Chapter 3: Xico’s Cherry Popping

Having one's mind violated, the deepest recesses of one's secrets, will naturally lead to a feeling of paranoia. Xico could have said anything next - revealed some terrible secret of mine, declared that she would tell Mira that I really was fucking Kate, or a thousand other alternatives. The one thing I did not expect her to say?

"Nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya!" She practically yelled it out, clenching her eyes shut, her twin tentacle-tails braiding around one another like they were hair. She continued to make that repetitive annoying noise for another five seconds before the door opened and Mira entered, looking at the (still-making-the-noise) Xico like she was an alarm that had ruined her beauty sleep.

"She tell you about her power?" Mira asked, and I could only nod in response. "The first time anybody hears she's a telepath, they immediately think of whatever the worst thing to possibly think is. Or, if they don't, they do it after I say this." She made a little spinning motion with her finger, and naturally my brain was immediately drawn to the secret information that I was from a world whose sense of gender was different from this one. I then got really annoyed at it falling for such an obvious ploy, and also annoyed at the fact that Xico was still making repetitive, annoying noises. "I guess you just did it?"

"Yes," I admitted, only grudgingly because I didn't want to wind up with Xico overhearing it in the future. I chose to change the topic from my thoughts to her decisions. "How could you put a telepath right next to me?"

"Xico is a good girl. Whatever she picks up, she keeps secret. She knows all about the time I drunk dialed the CEO of Korn Industries and suggested an arranged marriage to unite our dynasties." There was a pause. "A joke. I'm joking. Sheesh, Roger," she said, giving me a light slug to the upper arm. "I'm trying to lighten the mood from your concern that we'll find out about your terrible murders, which were committed in a foreign country we don't have an extradition treaty with." She smiled as she finished off the comment, a certain playful note to her expression, like she enjoyed being the one to make this stunning reveal. "Really. Even if you did commit terrible crimes back in your USA, we couldn't prosecute you for them here. Strange but true."

"I didn't commit terrible crimes back in my USA."

"Oh? Did you do something terrible, then, that you're worried about being found out?" She leaned forward, lacing her fingers together with interest in her eyes.

"No."

"Puh," she said, letting out a grunt and waving her hand. "That's so boring. I like my men dark and brooding, so if you could add a little dash of that, it'd be great. I wouldn't say drug habit, but underground fight club? Motorcycle gang?" She suggested. "That'd shoot you into pretty much perfect, since you're already riding high on smart and sexy and not having told me to knock it off yet." She gave another wink.

This whole conversation was going on while Xico was still doing her repetitive yelling thing. I glanced her way. "How long is she going to do that for?"

"Until you tell her you're okay, and you got out the thinking about bad stuff and will only think about good stuff, like how much you want to have sex with me," Mira said.

"I'm pretty sure that qualifies as bad stuff, since you're my coworker."

"There we go, a little reciprocation." She had a warm, friendly, gregarious smile, seeming completely ordinary and friendly rather than the smile belonging to some kind of rapacious billionaire. "So it'd only be bad if I'm your coworker? If I quit the company would you be willing to fuck me then? I don't need this job, but I would love to spend more time getting to know the handsome, devilish stranger standing across from me."

She really did love to lay it on thick, yet she couldn't possibly think it was working, so why was she so insistent on continuing to flirt with me? The caterwaul of Xico rang in my ears and made it obvious why. "Okay, okay," I breathed out. "Your flirting has successfully distracted me. She can stop now."

"Oh. Yeah. That's why I was flirting with you," she said, with a smile on her lips. "To distract you." The way she said it, it was difficult to quite tell if the playful note in her voice was meant to be ironic or not. Whether she really had been flirting just to distract me or not. I decided to assume she had been, since otherwise her obsession with flirting in this context made no sense. She reached out to Xico, poking her. "He's done thinking about how he left the iron on," Mira said. "Plus I'm here and I'll think extra loud."

Xico's tentacles untangled from each other in a slow, ginger movement. She was clearly using her petite size and innocent appearance to her full social advantage, blasting me with big, guilty eyes, and Mira with a similarly outrageous pair that said she was truly sorry to have failed her. "Sorry," she said. "He, um. Kept thinking about. You know. Something I shouldn't say."

The obvious something she shouldn't say would be sex with Kate, though it was also possible that the something she shouldn't say was the multiple times where I had thought about Xico giving me a blowjob. Which felt rather more embarrassing now that I knew she could read my thoughts, and the embarrassment was clearly shared by the bright red tone of her cheeks. Her tentacles began to tangle themselves back up. "Are they how you read minds?" I asked, pointing to the tentacles.

"Um. Kind of." She reached for her ear, pulling on the lobe to draw my attention to it. "They're kind of like... this part of the ear."

"The cartilage," Mira offered.

"Kart-a-lij," Xico sounded out.

"Cart-il-age," Mira repeated, sounding it out slowly to the girl.

It took a couple more repetitions for her to get it down. "Sorry. I don't know... a lot of words... in English. I speak Xaxuther... um..." she wiggled her fingers in the air, looking for a word.

"Fluently? Natively?" I suggested. People often avoid correcting individuals speaking in their second (or later) language on minor grammatical errors, but except in situations where time is of the essence, it is almost always appreciated. Most people naturally give far too much value to social niceties. After all, with even two seconds of thought, it becomes obvious that being told that the word is actually pronounced one way is something of direct, permanent value to the person you're speaking to, while ignoring the error gets no one anywhere.

"Which is... difference?"

"What is the difference," I corrected, and she nodded. "Fluently means you speak it well. Natively means it's your first language."

She blinked for a couple seconds, then nodded. "Natively. And fluently. Yes?"

"Natively implies fluently, but yes," I nodded.

"You two are cute together. How come you're nicer to her than to me?" Mira pouted. "Is it because I come on too strong?" If there was to be one reason, that would be it.

"Does this kind of flirting ever work?" I asked instead.

"Does having lots of money and promising to lavish the guy with expensive gifts ever work?" Mira asked it as if I might have a concussion and that was the only conceivable reason for me to ask such a question. "Yes. Yes it does. Men are just as shallow as women, only in different ways. No shame in that. I wouldn't be hitting on you so much if you didn't have a body like that," she said, idly rolling her tongue along the inside of her lower lip, her gaze dipping low as if this was her first, last, and only excuse to eye me up. "Really, though, I'm mostly running on autopilot. If you said 'eeek, go away,' at any point in all this, I'd have stopped, but you haven't. So I have to assume you like it, and just enjoy playing sullen broody boy." She gave me a wink that suggested she also enjoyed me playing 'sullen broody boy.' "Hard for me to work with, but I can manage."

There was a moment there, just a second or so but which felt like so much longer, in which I actually contemplated telling her to knock it off. Just thinking about that, though, having the option, completely changed the calculus. I was asking myself if I wanted to make this hot woman stop flirting with me, calling me handsome and telling me she was rich and willing to give me expensive gifts, and once I actually processed all those thoughts together, it became obvious I very much didn't want that to stop.

Admittedly, the little smirk that crawled across Mira's lips as she no doubt realized exactly my thought process in that moment did make me want to tell her to stop just to spite her, and Xico let out a soft laugh at that thought. "It's fine," I said at last. "Can I get back to work?"

"I like a man with a work ethic, so sure," Mira said, "but I'd prefer Xico stick around. The alternative is that I have to spend the next week going over your work for today, and so on, and so forth, and at that point why are we even employing you?"

It was obvious on consideration that they couldn't trust me with their funds and no oversight, and my power made it practically impossible to perform oversight on me in a reasonable timespan. Certainly, in the long term - months, maybe a year - they'd find it if I committed some crime, but there was a lot of money going through the company. "I suppose that's fair enough." Mira's eyebrows actually raised at that.

"Really? Wow. Easier than I thought. Too bad you're not as easy to ask out," she added, taking a step backwards towards the door. "Call me if you need anything." She didn't say anything to Xico. I didn't even notice at the time, but in retrospect, she was obviously attempting to push Xico into the back of my mind so that I could focus on my work.

After an objective hour of work, and a subjective ten hours, my thoughts drifted towards a topic they probably shouldn't have gone to. Until that point, I'd kept my wandering thoughts restricted to media I'd consumed, in this world or back in my own. Wondering what the ending to that gag manga with the pirate wizard protagonist would ultimately be. How the love triangle between the young mortal girl, the vampire, and the IRS agent finally resolved. Or when the next episode of Vive Colette would be aired; the seasons started in February in English, didn't they?

At the objective hour mark, though, they went back to sex. Namely, the sex with Kate that I'd had the previous night, and my idle curiosity as to what more I could get out of her. She'd proven rather submissive, and... I had a telepath behind me who I could hear squeak in response to my thoughts. My mind arrested its movement, stuttering in place, but my arousal meant my next thought was still horny as it leapt to the subject of Xico. She was eighteen. She was clearly interested in me, gauging by the way that she looked at my hard-on whenever she thought she could manage without getting caught, and I could even see out of the corner of my eye as she ducked her head in response to the mental accusation. She was cute.

"You think I'm cute?" You could almost hear the squeak as she realized what she said, hands going over her mouth. Her tentacles curled up in that familiar anxious movement before she spoke again. "Sorry. I shouldn't-"

"I do think you're cute." Not just her face and pigtails and personality, but also her body. Petite, slender, but I had broad tastes in terms of body types, and I could easily see myself hefting and moving her body all around...

She actually smiled at that, both the compliment and my continuing thoughts (though, they did produce a faint flush). Her tentacles unraveled, drawing my gaze to them again. They were almost like a dog's tail, from a certain perspective, and dog girls wagging their tails happily were one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen in hentai. Her eyes actually bulged at that particular thought, and she swallowed loudly. "You... really think I'm sexy? Ulzscha valbho dar lathar," she muttered to herself a moment later, no doubt the equivalent of "what the hell are you saying you idiot" in Xaxuther. By the flush of color to her cheeks, she was surprised both that I heard that, and that I'd correctly translated it. "Sorry. I'm just... you're just thinking, about sex. So when you think of me... you're still thinking, about sex."

My brain turned the gears slowly as I tried to appraise this situation. Sexy older woman is hired as a secretary by a superhero group. Shy, homeschooled, probably-a-virgin (Xico blushed at that, understanding she was the probably-a-virgin in question), boy is put in close proximity to her for hours. He discovers that she's always thinking about sex.

"You're not always thinking about sex! I'm not discovering that!" Xico waved her hands defensively, but I barreled on with my thought process. If we consider this as a pornographic story, then in that case, he'd obviously get fucked, wouldn't he? And he'd be very happy, too. It would probably be one of, if not the, best days of his young life. Now in real life there were a great deal of other possible factors, like that he wouldn't actually find her attractive, or that he wouldn't be interested in casual sex, or any number of other things...

But I didn't think any of those things applied to Xico. Her cheeks burned as I went through the thoughts in question, her eyes widening as I approached her. She let me guide her to the wall, silently pushing her up against it without laying a single finger on her, as far from the door as I could get. I heard the faint click of the door, swiveled my head around in sudden alertness, ready to use my superpseed to change my position if somebody was entering - but she had just locked it, the deadbolt now in place. "I don't want... anyone to come in... and think something bad..." she said, in a quiet mumble of a voice that was both pitiful and sexy, defeated and hot as hell.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Xico. And, I do think you're sexy." Her cheeks bloomed in a vivid red. For a moment, I was almost a telepath myself, her thoughts coming through on her face: the wild hope, the increasing arousal, the anxious energy as her tendrils remained curled up. "Dogs wag their tails to spread their pheromones," I said, glancing down at the tentacles. She seemed actually baffled by the statement, which was good because it meant that she couldn't read my thoughts too deeply or quickly, though of course the thought had come to me almost the same moment the words had come out of my lips. One other advantage of superspeed: a slightly increased ability to control motormouth. "That's also why they curl them up when they're afraid - they're trying to hide the alarm pheromones they've just released. Is it the same with your tentacles?"

"Uum. Yes. That... is why they curl up, and things... it helps hide my emotions... from other telepaths. It's... instinct."

"Are you afraid of me?"

She blinked at that, confusion on her face. "No... Why?" She frowned as she looked up at me, trying to figure out why she should be afraid of me. She looked at my body, my arms in particular. "Are you going to hit me?" It literally did not even occur to her that a man, pushing her up against the wall, with a hard-on, who had been thinking about sex... "Why... would I be afraid of that?" She sputtered it out suddenly, but her cheeks were glowing that same moment, head ducking downward. "Are you teasing me?"

"No. Just testing you," I replied, my voice gentle as I cupped her cheek. If a woman was cute, enthusiastic enough to worry she was being teased, knew about your other sexual partners, what exactly was the reason not to have sex with her? Fraternizing in the office? "Do you want to have sex?"

She gulped at that, loud enough that it seemed to echo in the room. "Yes?" She glanced at the door. "What if we get caught?"

"What is the policy on sex between coworkers?" I asked her. She swallowed again, then simply shrugged. She didn't know.

I was so, so very tempted to go further. The way she responded just to the thought I had of going further was incredibly enticing. But, we were at work. Anyone could stumble on us. I pulled back, and she let out a sigh, not quite of relief, more like... completion. She had been anxious about something, and it had come to pass, so there was nothing more to be anxious about. A half-second later, I was delivering her a card with my number on it, and she was staring at it. "That's my number. You can read, right?"

"Numbers," she agreed. "Well enough," she corrected. "I learned math in..." she trailed off as she realized she was getting pointlessly specific, staring at the card again. It was like a hypnotic token to her, something unreal that occupied her entire mind, over and above anything else. She didn't even react to my thoughts about her for a long few seconds, that's how distracted she was. She was so cute. Seeing those lips parted just a tiny bit like that made me want to push my cock past them and watch them bulge. That thought meant I got to watch her eyes bulge instead. "Guys... really like fellatio, that much?"

I had to carefully consider exactly how to respond, mentally flipping the genders around to appropriately arrange things. The shy, nervous boy, having just received the number from a hot older woman, stammered out, Girls really like cunnilingus that much? The appropriate response was...

"When it's from you," she mumbled under her breath, completing my thought in the sexiest way possible. Fuck. My cock was instantly rock hard in my pants, and I was so, so very tempted to ask her if she'd be willing to get down under the desk. In a way, just thinking about asking her clearly amounted to it, because her gaze went to the desk, no doubt mentally appraising its size and how she would fit under it.

"Let me get back to work. Try to hide it when you notice my thoughts straying," I told her, sitting down at the desk and falling back into the motions.

* * *

When we were finished and left the office, we were pretty much immediately accosted by Mira. "So? How was it, Xico? He doesn't have any nefarious plans for the company money, does he?" Xico just swallowed, blushed, and shook her head. "You're getting real quiet. Did he think something terrible to you? Probably thought about all his vicious crimes, back in his old world. Bad boy like this, who knows? Maybe he's like that Baxter hottie?" Baxter was a fictional serial killer in this world, who was apparently the subject of significantly more women's sexual attention here than his equivalents back on mine were. Which was, admittedly, saying something. How many vampires, werewolves, serial killers, mercenaries, and other general Men Who Did Violence were the subject of female-targeted romantic media, after all?

"No! He's nice! Really, really nice!" The way she said it was almost overwhelming. It made me wonder what I had even done to be considered 'really nice,' but after a second I reached the obvious conclusion it was the sex. She blushed and glanced my way, shaking her head quickly. "Not for that," she said, then paused, then shook her head. "I... I'm going home. Bye." She waggled her hand at me. I gave her a passing thought that I wanted to reach out and give her ass a firm squeeze, and she sped away, blushing, but clearly delighted by the look on her face.

"Wow. I mean, Xico's a little shy, but what'd you do to her?" It was odd, mentally adjusting to talking to somebody who couldn't read my mind, after spending what amounted to seventy or eighty subjective hours (sometimes I'd slowed down my perception of time, to talk to Xico or to wait for pages to print or whatever else) doing so. I instinctively tried to avoid, mentally, the subject of what I had done to her, simply because it would feed this woman's rapacious lust. It didn't even occur to her that the thing I had done to her was sexual, though. "Not going to say? I'll guess then." She rubbed her chin gently, staring me dead in the eyes. "It has to be embarrassing for her, not you, so... wage comparison?"

Wage comparison. Wow. She was way off. "No. I'd prefer not to talk about it with you."

"Roger that, Roger," she said, with a playful smile. "How about you come up with a way to embarrass me? If you went out on a date with me, it'd be so embarrassing," she said, pressing a hand to her heart as if it was completely sincere. "I'm sure I wouldn't be able to contain myself in your presence."

"All the more reason not to agree to go out with you."

"Ah! My insecurity is making me self-sabotage!" She almost cried out in panic, as if her feelings really were being hurt, except for the insanely ridiculous level of overacting. "I just figured that the only way you'd cause that level of effect on Xico was if you were doing it on purpose. Only like teasing kids? No stomach to do it to a mature adult woman who can stand up to your assault?"

"If you could read my mind, I doubt you'd be embarrassed by the things I was thinking." Her eyebrows raised at that, clearly very interested in whatever it was that I was thinking. No doubt she'd start trying to convince me to say more on the subject - somehow, she always seemed to manage to get me to talk more than I really intended to. Superman has kryptonite - I had to guess that I was simply weak to flirting. In any case, I had the perfect excuse to not talk to her any more. "I'm finished with my work for the day, so I'm going to head home."

"Ah, a man after my own heart," she said. I didn't respond, just heading towards the door. She didn't follow after me, though I heard her let out a long-suffering sigh that practically begged for me to turn my head around. No doubt that it was very well practiced and carefully refined for exactly that purpose - as such, I did not fall into the trap.

I will confess that it required a great deal of willpower, and I may have used my superspeed to enhance my walking speed by a factor of ten, though only for entirely unrelated reasons. Superspeed didn't affect my subjective perception of how long it took to get to the door without checking to see whether Mira was pouting or had already given up or something else entirely, after all.

* * *

I had gotten home, kicked off my shoes, peeled out of my socks, and proceeded to pull off my shirt to enjoy the cool air on my bare skin rather than the vaguely sticky sensation of my clothes. Wearing the same thing for eighty subjective hours made you want to take it off the very same millisecond you got the chance. As I was unbuttoning my pants, I got a call on my phone. Xico?

"Hello?" I heard her voice, tinny, on the other side of the line.

"Hey," I said, trying to affect warmth. Would it be easier to talk like this? It would be for me, since I wouldn't have to constantly monitor my own thoughts to avoid saying anything too incriminating. But if one thought about it for even a second, Xico didn't appear capable of meaningfully turning her telepathy off. It might be very difficult for her to handle a phone conversation, just like how when you text, it suddenly flattens and ruins your personality, making jokes come off as cruel rather than friendly. "I just got home."

I had meant it in a friendly way, making conversation, but you could practically hear Xico's cheeks pale on the other end of the line. "Oh! Um. Sorry... I was just excited..." She felt that she had come off as unduly clingy, now, and it made me feel bad. Maybe her extreme apparent flusterability wasn't feigned. "To talk. Other people find it easier... on the phone..."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," I reassured her. "I appreciate the call. I don't have a lot of friends in this world." To be entirely honest, I had none. The closest thing I had to a friend was the cashier at the grocery store whose name I knew and had occasionally made bits of conversation with - and him, only because they didn't have self-checkout lines in this world. Saying that would obviously simply make me look like a desperate loser, however, so I didn't. "How have you been in the past half-hour since we spoke?" I tried to be playful with the question.

"Thinking about... calling you," she admitted, and her blush was almost audible. "Um... I did think about something..." I could envision her tentacles, curling and uncurling behind her anxiously. "The thing... with the guy, and the girl... I mean, if you have a virgin and a man-eater, then... well, if it was a virgin and a... promiscuous man, then it would be that he was teasing her, because of her 'cute' reactions, right?"

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She had once again defaulted back to the idea that I was teasing her. It was hard for her to imagine that someone could be interested in her. The implicit much less someone like me did soothe my ego quite a lot, and I quietly sank into my seat. Politeness could not provide the clarity that she needed right now, I saw. I needed to establish unambiguously that I was sexually interested in her, or low self-esteem would eternally sabotage any intimate relationship I might hope to have with her. "First of all, he would only 'tease' her for her 'cute' reactions if he liked her. Secondly, do you think that when I imagine my cock pushing past your lips, I'm teasing you?" She squeaked in response to that, so loud I could hear her eyes widen. "If you come over right now, we can talk, and chat, and flirt, and then I can fuck your brains out."

I could practically hear her blush. "Really?"

"Yes. In fact, I'd do it just so that you'd stop getting scared I'm messing with you and we could actually talk without you coming up with increasingly elaborate reasons that I'm not actually going to do anything sexual with you." It was over the top explicit in purpose, and perhaps a tad mean, but I couldn't see any other way to convince her of what she needed to be convinced of. "But, I'm actually going to do it because I think you're cute and sexy and that you definitely would be happy to be fucked silly, so I don't have to feel guilty for taking advantage of you. Are any of those things wrong?"

"No," she said. Her voice was almost a hushed whisper of a thing.

"Then let me text you my address, and you can come over," I told her.

* * *

It was barely ten minutes later when there was a rapid, light pounding on my front door. When I opened it, there stood Xico. She didn't look quite like she did at work. She was wearing shoes, for one, and her feet were actually on the ground. She was wearing a billowing dress that hid her tentacles (or else she'd lopped them off, because I couldn't see them). She was, perhaps more strangely, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses.

I had actually gotten dressed properly before answering the door. As fun as it might have been to watch Xico's reactions when I arrived wearing nothing but a single pair of underwear, I decided to wait to enjoy that until at least the second time she came over.

"Hi," she said, with a waggle of her fingers. "You said... to come over?" She asked it, like she wasn't quite sure it had really happened, but I knew it had. Just thinking that made her posture relax slightly.

"Come on inside, Xico," I said, widening the door and letting her in. Once she was inside, I closed it behind her. "So. What would you like to do before I pop your cherry? You only get one chance to lose your virginity, and I want to make it as good for you as possible." I had spent a good chunk of the past ten minutes considering exactly that question: how does one make a girl's first time maximally pleasant? For a moment I'd thought about candles and flowers, but then I realized that most girls here probably wouldn't appreciate them. I thought maybe a long cunnilingus session, but she might just want to skip to the action and feel unable to say we should move on. (I also wasn't confident in my cunnilingus skills, to be entirely honest.) Then I finally settled on the obvious: who was going to complain if their cherry-popper just asked (and did) whatever they asked for their first time?

Xico was staring at me as I waited on her answer. There was a brief hint of her 'really?' face - the face she wore when she was doubting if the situation she was in was real - but almost as soon as I noticed it, she banished it away. "Can we... kiss? If you don't mind... my tongues," she said, actually opening her mouth to display them. There were six of them, two pairs tucked on top of each other with another pair on either side, producing a wide, fat wedge shape. She stuck them out a moment later, displaying that they could reach almost a full two inches out of her mouth, and instantly making me rock hard in response. She flushed and snapped them back like a frog pulling its tongue back into its mouth. "You want... to kiss, still?"

I didn't answer her verbally, but instead in my mind, and my body language. I reached out for the back of Xico's head and halfway hefted her up, pulling her up towards me and kissing her on the lips. At first it was something soft, the gentle press of lips against lips; then one of her tongues flicked against my lips, like a nervous little knock on a door. I opened my mouth an inch, and one of her tongues slithered in, brushing along the inside of my mouth until she spotted my weak point on the back of my upper gums. I twitched in response to the brush, but I'm pretty sure my mental groan was more than enough to set her on the warpath: four of her tongues wriggled into my mouth and started to make soft up and down motions against the sensitive gums.

Her body pushed into mine, and I was distantly aware that her knees clacked against my thighs - impossible, if she wasn't floating again. I could feel her bra through her dress, the wiry fabric enticing. She was by no means a busty girl, but it was still dead sexy, having her press against me like that. She could feel my erection in my pants, pressing against her thighs, and she shifted her weight, brushing against it with intentional work. I could actually feel where her tails were wrapped around her legs, and suddenly they weren't, brushing softly against my dick through the fabric of her dress and my pants, caressing it through layers of fabric.

She had so many tongues that they soon began to split their attentions. Two remained on the back of my upper gums, but two slithered deeper into my mouth, making a pincer attack on my own tongue, caressing and squeezing it. Then the last two tongues slipped into my mouth, pinching my tongue from the top and bottom, holding it in place, warm and wet as they did so, my cock throbbing in my pants as she did so.

Her hands went to my chest, at first tentative, but when my brain immediately responded by noting how nice they felt, she got more enthusiastic, sliding them up and down my stomach, as if trying to count out my abs. Her tentacles meant she could - and did - lift up her dress without even breaking off the kiss, without removing her hands from my stomach, and soon they were actually undoing my belt buckle.

I could tell that she very much wanted to get to it quickly. At that thought, she popped off my lips, flushing red. "Sorry... what do you-" want to do, she never got the chance to say, because I just grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back against me, sliding my tongue into her mouth this time.

With my free hand, I unzipped my pants. I was perfectly, perfectly happy to have sex with her without conversation. She seemed cute and sweet and thoughtful and while I didn't want to make her waste time on blowjobs during her first time, the sooner that she got through her first time, the sooner that she could have her second time and start learning about things like that. The heat that glowed from her cheeks at that thought was matched only by the ferocity with which her tongues started to play with and tease my tongue, as if showing off her fellatio talents in advance.

At some point in that mess my erection popped free into the open air, and her tentacles - which felt soft, warm, and wet, almost like very large tongues - gently guided it into the space in between her thighs. She gave me just a handful of thrusts into the space between her thighs before I started to wonder if this was what she really wanted. After all, intercrural sex was entirely a matter of teasing, limiting the stimulation to improve the body's later response. Was she attempting to do that to me? To herself, to make it better? Perhaps she planned to bring her tentacles into it and have them caress the head?

One of her tentacles did start to swivel around the head as my thoughts wandered, but she popped off my lips. "Do you... really want... to have sex now? We haven't... done foreplay..."

"Do you want to do any more foreplay than this?" I asked her, my hand reaching down to her ass, softly squeezing the petite thing. "I'd really love a blowjob from you, but only if that's something you specifically have fantasized about for your first time. Right now, just do whatever you want. Trust me, I won't mind."

She paused for a moment, her tentacle halfway wrapped around my cockhead; then she started to move, hurriedly yanking my clothes off in a few quick movements of her hands and free tentacle. She reveled in my bare skin, drinking in my lithe, muscled chest, a soft pant escaping her throat as she stared at me like that. I reached out for her, grasping that dress of hers and peeling it up and over her head, revealing her slender body. She was cute. She didn't have the outrageously curvaceous body of Kate, or the svelte height of Mira, but something about her body made me want to just grab her legs and start twisting her into a fresh position.

The idle thought that we could fuck doggy style while I was standing, thanks to her floating telekinesis, made my cock twitch in the open air, a little droplet of precum smearing across her tentacle.

The movement of her tentacle that came a moment later was clearly spontaneous, but also deeply sexy: she brought it up to her mouth and licked the precum off. My cock was still wedged in between her thighs, which is fortunate, because the sight of her (seemingly oblivious to its effect on me) licking my cum off her tentacle might otherwise have made me explode.

Of course, the second after she did it, she turned bright red, having heard my entire thought process. "I was just... curious how it... tasted..." she said, softly.

"Good, I hope," I told her, giving her a warm smile. My hands slid up and down her flanks, my thumbs occasionally brushing against her nipples. "We're both naked now," I told her. "What do you want for your first time? Lay me down on the bed and ride me? Have me on top, kissing you? Maybe some long cunnilingus as a warm-up?" That last one made her blush, which was all the signal I needed to drop to my knees, grabbing her thighs and pulling her up against me. Her bush was light, but untrimmed, long thin wisps of blonde hair that seemed ephemeral in the light.

I kissed her there, a gentle smooch, and I followed it with other pecks up and down her lower lips, eventually finding my way to her clit and softly suckling on it. My tongue flicked away, and I did my best to read her expression from down there. It wasn't too hard: the girl had the worst poker face in the world, and she blushed and squirmed exactly as my tongue did the right thing. I could also vary the intensity and speed of the movements to a far greater extent than anybody normal, and it became clear that a rapid back-and-forth movement against her clit at about twice what a normal tongue could manage was going to drive her absolutely insane.

Her fingers reached down for the back of my head as I worked. "Valbho!" She shouted, no doubt an obscenity born of how good she was feeling, and it only encouraged me further - my tongue increased its pace by a bit, and her fingers clawed against my head, her hips moving sporadically. "Valbho! Ia valbho!" Her thighs snapped on either side of my head, basically sitting herself on my shoulders; her tentacles curled around my bare back, soft and wet and intimate as they ground me up against her like she was trying to absorb me into her body. I could feel her whole body tense with pleasure. "Ia valbho, thubnid Kthe!" It was the last thing she managed to say before coming, her words becoming incoherent as she gasped and jerked in place, pressing me hard against her as she lost herself in the moment.

When her orgasm finished its rush through her, she gently disentangled herself from me, flopping onto the couch. The way she moved onto it was odd, like a haphazard toss rather than the casual floating she normally managed. She panted, gasping for air on the couch, her skin flush with exertion. Her chest heaved, rising up and down, and her whole body quietly trembled on the couch.

Had I gone too far with it? Was that all the energy she had? Her eyes bulged at those thoughts, and she hurriedly shook her head. "Just... a second... please." I understood after only a moment's consideration. Her pride as a woman was on the line. Making her first time as good as possible was about more than just pleasing her physically and making her come - it was about providing a basis for her to feel good about her sexual talents, too. A first time where some hot busty girl made me come a half-dozen times while I just laid there brainlessly would certainly be nice, but it could no doubt build up neuroses if it was one's only sexual experience. It was obviously far better to let her catch her breath, then have conventional sex in whichever position she wanted.

She swallowed, looking at my face - no, at my lips, specifically. Her own wriggled unpleasantly, and I touched my face, fingers coming away a little sticky from her juices. I quickly understood - she didn't want to lick up her own juices during a kiss. "I'll go wipe my face and brush my teeth," I told her, and was out of the room before she could even object. If our positions were reversed, I might feel awkward about telling her to clean away my cum, but I would very definitely want her to.

Fortunately, at superspeed, what was two minutes for me was twelve seconds for her, and I was back and with minty fresh breath in short order. She blushed faintly as she saw me, then started to leverage herself up on the couch. "Sorry... I just..."

This served as an opportunity to establish some of my own boundaries for the future, so I took it. "There's nothing to apologize for, as long as you're willing to wipe your face down after I come on it and before you get a kiss," I told her. She flushed, but nodded quietly at that. "Have you decided on a position?" I asked.

She looked down at her own naked body, her gaze trailing over to my cock with a certain thirst to feel it inside her. "Missionary?" She asked. "On your bed? Unless you don't-" was as far as she got before I had her in my arms, carrying her bridal style into my bedroom.

I laid her down on it, letting her head rest on my pillows and moving atop her. I took a deep breath, taking a moment to admire her naked body. The circular marks trailed all along her body, producing a curious, almost... animal, impression. Like leopard spots, or a tiger's stripes, though obviously rather more cephalopoid in her case. Her tentacles splayed out on either side of her as she laid on her back, and she stared breathlessly up at me as I took hold of my length and angled it at her sex. I was gentle as I pushed inside, taking my time to fill her up over long, slow seconds. She trembled at the feeling, lips gently opening and closing, her eyes wandering down towards where our groins were inching towards each other.

When I had completely pushed myself in, I took a moment to just appreciate the feeling. She was tight, very tight, her insides seeming almost coiled around my cock. The faintest tremble that ran through her body as I sat there, cock buried deep inside her, translated to an intense gripping of my cock, making me let out groans of pleasure. My fingers weren't on her body, but instead tangling up around the blanket on either side of her, as I strained to control myself.

"Go ahead... and come..." Xico said in the softest, sweetest, gentlest voice with which a girl had ever made that request of me. I was going to deny her, of course - just like her, I didn't want to fancy myself a quickshot. I began to pull out at those words, though, making a methodical, slow movement that seemed to almost turn her inside out, with how tight she felt. She shuddered softly in response to the movement, her lips working at air, her tongues flicking oddly inside her mouth in very appealing ways. Her tentacles, too, shifted and twisted on the bed, like she was trying to swim through it; her legs kicked behind me, before I began to force my way deep inside her again, groaning as I went.

"You feel fantastic," I grunted out, though after only a moment's thought I realized that saying it was completely unnecessary, since she could quite literally read my mind.

"I still... like to hear it..." she said, with a flush of color to her cheeks. "Can you... say I'm tight, too?"

"You're very, very tight," I told her, and she smiled at that, this almost dopey smile, cute and sweet and self-satisfied at hearing those words. I did wonder if she would like it if I told her she was even tighter than Kate.

By the little squeeze of her cunt around my cock as I thought that, and the way her cheeks brightened as she looked away, she would prefer me to just think it very loudly. I leaned down over her, kissing at her neck. I nibbled at the bare flesh for a few seconds, then started suckling on it, and instantly her response intensified, her cunt clamping down sharply on my cock, her legs snapping around my hips and suddenly grinding against me with a force that said this was the sort of thing she liked in the bedroom. It wasn't the kiss, or the nibble, I could tell that in a moment - it was the feeling of my lips sucking at her neck, so I began doing my damnedest to give her a hickey.

She moaned and quivered at the touch, her hand coming up to trail through my hair with one hand. Her whole body undulated beneath me like a snake, feeling more flexible in that moment than was quite natural. Her tentacles came up, wrapping around my hips along with her legs, and she ground me deep, deep inside her, orgasming herself. The way her wet sex tensed and gripped and squeezed my length left me no choice but to come; I closed my eyes and found release inside her, panting into her neck desperately.

When I was finished with my orgasm, I took a deep breath, pulling back to look down at her. Her skin was a little shiny with sweat, and she wore this blissful, proud smile, the same kind of grin you'd see on any teenager who made their sexy older lover come. It wasn't quite dopey, I wouldn't say, but it was close. Completely self-assured and oblivious to anything but her most recent accomplishment.

It was cute, on her. I leaned down to kiss her on the lips, another soft press. After only a second, it transformed into another makeout session, her tongues wriggling their way into my mouth, her pushing her body up against me, her arms wrapping around me, holding me close, her nipples scraping against my bare skin as she started to actively move. I was still hard, I have to admit, so it was no surprise she'd try to take full advantage of me like that. If you'd just had your first time with a beautiful woman, and you could keep going, wouldn't you?

I met her movements with my own, pumping back against her, balls slapping idly at her ass. My hands went to her legs, tilting them back, and I found her body surprisingly flexible in a whole new way, breaking off the kiss to push her legs all the way back so I could hook them under her shoulders. It transformed her into a very sexy, very cute pretzel, her pussy presented to me beautifully in that position, pink sex surrounding my still-hard length.

I didn't get much time to appreciate the view, though, because she was soon pulling me back down into a kiss, tongues hungrily grabbing and playing with my own as I started to fuck her in that position.

In retrospect - though not at the time - I realize that I lost myself to lust in that moment. I had been doing what she asked, what she requested, up until that moment, and then I simply did whatever I felt like. However, I would argue this was ultimately for the best: what could be better for a young person's self-esteem than watching their sexual partner's self-control genuinely melt right in front of their very eyes, as they forget about all their planning and attempts to make you feel good because they're simply that aroused?

Certainly, Xico was very happy to get pounded away in that position. She even managed to orgasm again, moaning into my mouth, latching onto me like some kind of leech with her mouth sucking my tongue inward, her hands clawing my head downward, her tentacles grasping and pulling my body downward, while her legs remained lodged firmly behind her shoulders. She pushed and pulled us as tight together as she could in her ecstasy, and dragged me over the edge as well, making me groan as I found sweet, sweet release, mere minutes after the first time.

When I was finished coming, I rolled off her. Both of us panted on the bed. Both of us were rather sweaty, naked. I wondered if she'd like to be cuddled, almost absently, and she started to use her tentacles to wiggle her way towards me, as if her hips or arms were completely disabled from the sex. I let out a small snort, reaching out for her and pulling her into me, letting her rest her head on my chest. She smiled at that, nuzzling my chest cutely, her blonde hair sticky with a mix of both our sweats, becoming an increasingly tangled mess, but I'm rather sure she didn't much care.

We both drifted off to sleep, in the post-coital exhaustion.

* * *

I woke up maybe half an hour later, seeing Xico sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously playing with her phone. She glanced my way as I woke up, wearing the strangest smile. It was almost apologetic. "Can I... take a picture... to remember this?"

"As long as you don't share it," I told her, "and send me a copy." If she wanted to do something terrible with it, she could have taken it while I slept. She smiled at my offer, quickly moving onto the bed next to me, pushing her naked body against mine, holding her phone up in the air and taking a shared selfie, our two bodies pressed together. She then hurriedly sent me the photo, and my own phone buzzed, making me reach for it where it rested on the nightstand.

Xico glanced over my shoulder at it, then spoke up. "That isn't... how you spell... my name," she explained. At the time, her contact info on my phone was under Sheeko.

"Oh, sorry. How is it spelled, then?" I asked.

She took a second to remember. "Ecks aye see oh," she told me.

I quickly corrected it. "Sorry. The name is just a little foreign."

"Foreign?" She asked, in the tone of voice of an ESL speaker who didn't immediately recognize a word.

"Not from here."

She smiled at that, as if at a joke. "It is very foreign," she told me.

There was a rapping at the door, then, interrupting our conversation. Xico's eyes widened and she blushed crimson as she waved for me to go answer the door, nervously biting her lip and pulling the blanket up over her naked body to hide herself. I got dressed in a few seconds, though my clothes wound up sticky with sweat in the process. When I went to the door... it was Kate on the other side.

Ah. She was hoping for another go around. Except that Xico was in my bedroom, so I couldn't invite her in. I opened the door a few inches, but stood in the way of her coming inside. "Kate?" I prompted.

"Hi," she said. It was at that point I noticed that she'd brought a bag with her, and a frown appeared on my face. "I brought ice cream? For after the sex?" She tried. She was clearly trying to do her best, which only made me feel bad. "It's just ice cream," she said, as she saw my expression. "Are you lactose intolerant?" She tried.

I sighed. In this situation, it was important to be honest, over being polite. I had told her I wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with her; this would serve well enough to make it clearly the truth. She could do whatever she wanted with that information, she was an adult. "No. I have another woman over right now."

Her cheeks lit up, bright red. Her mouth opened, then closed. "Oh," she said, softly. "Ha... guess you can't exactly invite me in, then," she said, glancing down at the bag. "Maybe you could share the ice cream with your lady friend?" She suggested, holding it up to me. "I got vanilla since I didn't know what flavor you liked. Chocolate Quintuple Fudge for me," she noted, her cheeks still warm from the embarrassment of trying to do a booty call to somebody who's currently calling a different booty. "It's depressing eating ice cream alone, and my freezer's busted, so, here," she said, practically thrusting the bag at me before starting to walk off.

"Wait," I said. It wasn't an annoyed 'wait' of 'take this back,' and instantly she was facing me, snapping up as close as she could. It wasn't superspeed, she was just that eager to hear whatever I had to say. "Let me give you my number so this doesn't happen again."

"Oh." She sighed at that. What had she expected? That I'd drag her inside and fuck her stupid while Xico was a room away? I would like to imagine I have more sense than that, and further like to imagine that this is obvious to other people. "Okay." She took out her phone, and we quickly exchanged numbers.

"Thank you, Kate," I said. "Sorry the timing didn't work out. Sex with you is fun." She nervously smiled at that, having no idea what to say, and I closed the door before heading back to the bedroom.

Xico's tails fidgeted in the air behind her, glancing behind me as if halfway expecting to see Kate there. "Kate came by, she brought ice cream."

"I know," Xico said, and I remembered she was a telepath at that moment. "Kate... liked that you were having sex... with somebody else." She realized what she'd said a moment after she said it, wincing. "Sorry. Please... forget... I said that." She was actually starting to tear up a little at the realization of her own mistake. I guess post-coitus could mess with anybody's sealed lips. I just put the ice cream at the foot of the bed and moved to wrap my arms around her, studiously avoiding thinking anything about Kate, because I knew that approximately two seconds after I did, I would immediately think about the thing Xico had asked me to forget about.

Of course, not thinking about Kate didn't make me forget what she'd said, it just meant that I pushed thinking about it off for the rest of the night.

We did wind up eating the ice cream together. We actually shared both the cartons, like the dorkiest couple possible.

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