otherworlderotic
It’s quiet in my dorm room, almost too quiet after the chaos of the weekend. I’m unpacked and bored, lounging around on my bed. I wish Laura was here, I’d really like to talk to her about all this. Her level-headed but open-minded approach would be really helpful right about now.
Amy. My thoughts buzz and buzz around Amy. Are we dating now? If not, will we be soon?
Will we… have sex?
The thought sends a thrill through me. Not the usual thrill that accompanies my regular salacious thoughts. It certainly has a lot in common with those thoughts, proof being how my body responds as I imagine Amy leaning in to kiss me. As I imagine Amy unbuttoning my jeans and sliding a hand down. As I imagine Amy running a finger along my folds…
Ok, now I’ve done it. I’m turned on, but my feelings go beyond the response of my body. My heart leaps into my throat when I think about her. That’s the unique part. Sure, I get turned on imagining getting railed by a buff guy, but my heart isn’t doing any acrobatics.
I can’t get Amy out of my head. As my thoughts get dirtier and dirtier, I find myself sinking into a fantasy. Do people use strapons in real life, or is that just a porn thing? I want Amy to use one on me. God damn.
I fidget around on my bed, not quite sure if I want to fully commit to a full-on bean-flicking sesh. I also want to take some time to process my emotions and to play back my conversations with Amy. I’m in full, smitten, day-dream mode, and I want confirmation of any sign she’s into me.
Oh! I’ll re-read Bren and Adaric’s story! That’s a double whammy - I can think about it, processing why Amy wrote each part. Plus, I can also enjoy some “me” time. That’s what sexy stories are for!
I strip down without ceremony, getting into position on my bed, phone in hand. There are some perks to having a solo room, I suppose. Naked, spread out, and humming with excitement, I start to read.
As I work through the story, I’m getting more and more turned on. I lean back and fondle myself, gently, casually. No desperate, needy strokes just yet. Just playful, relaxing self-pleasure, my fingers softly rubbing along and around my pussy.
The parallels between Bren and I are so clear now. She’s so assertive, so easy to physical intimacy. Adaric is just like Amy, from a certain lens. Well-spoken, reserved, driven. I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t notice earlier. But I’m more turned on than embarrassed. I move my fingers a little faster along my clit now. I’m not really imagining Bren and Adaric, but Jo and Amy. It’s turning me on more and more, and I slide a finger inside me, gently working along my inner walls, imagining it’s Amy’s finger.
As I get to the tent sex scene I’m so wet, I could set myself off if I just increase my pace a little bit more. Amy, hands on me. Amy, pinching my nipples. Amy, her tongue hot on my sex…
Getting closer… And then my phone vibrates, pulling me out of my reverie. The screen lights up, and I see it: [1 unread message from Amy]
My heart skips a beat, and I scramble to my phone, mashing 9999 to unlock it.
[7:29 PM] Amy: I hope you’re having a relaxing time back 💕
[7:29 PM] Amy: I spent my afternoon writing… want to read some more pages? The story is finally coming together.
[7:29 PM] Amy: See you soon, I hope 💗
A link to her next pages follows. I’m spread eagle on my bed, soaking wet, smiling my ass off, when another message comes through.
Oh my god. I’m so turned on and already so close. I stare at the picture and start playing with myself again. It feels a bit naughty, but I don’t think Amy would mind so much. And frankly, I don’t care. I stare at those lips and imagine them on me. I start rubbing myself faster, and faster, holding the phone close to my face, imagining Amy’s there with me. I imagine pulling down that cute lace top, licking that curve of her breasts, feeling her hands tangled in my hair…
I’m desperate, needy, and so turned on it hurts. I strum my clit over and over again, my back arching. My fingers tighten around my phone, the screen flashing as I push buttons, but I don’t care. I’m soaked, taken over by pleasure so intense my mind goes blank. In moments I’m there, my fingers and toes curling, phone dropped to the floor.
I wail, my moans sharp. My body is wracked in spasms as I come, my clit pulsing underneath my relentless fingers.
I come down, returning to earth, my body tense. I gasp, pulling in big lungfuls of air as I recover. After a minute, I can bend down and pick up my phone from the floor.
My heart stops. The last message from me was sent one minute ago. It’s an audio message. I just accidentally sent an audio message. There it is, 8 seconds long.
As I stare, the read receipt indicator turns to “read”.
Shit shit shit!
Ok, before I panic… maybe it isn’t so bad. Holding my breath, I push play.
My orgasmic moans are clearly audible through the scratchy noise of the microphone rubbing against my bedsheets. Yup, there it is. I’m coming so loud. My peak.
My blood turns cold. At least I didn’t shout “Amy!” But still.
Fuck. I start typing.
[7:37 PM] Jo: Oh shit! Amy I’m so sorry! I accidentally recorded that, that wasn’t…
[7:37 PM] Jo: I mean I wouldn’t just send you something like that just out of nowhere 😭😭😭😭😭
[7:37 PM] Jo: Please don’t listen if you haven’t already. Shit shit shit 🙈
My heart is hammering as I stare at the screen. Each message flips to “read” immediately as I send it, so she’s looking at her phone now. Every second is agony.
She’s typing!
[7:39 PM] Amy: Too late 😘
My heart stops.
[7:39 PM] Amy: What, you’re not generous enough to send a picture too?
[7:40 PM] Amy: I demand it.
… oh. OH.
My body vibrates, and I’m turned on again already. And still embarrassed. And surprised. I’ve got emotional whiplash here! I can’t tell if the heat coursing through me is arousal, embarrassment, nervousness, or all three.
I gather myself, looking at her message. “I demand it.” Oh, I like demanding Amy. I think for a minute. What sort of picture should I send? I’m still naked, should I put something on? Or should I get under the covers? Are we at that stage? Already?
I guess I kind of broke that barrier when I sent her a recording of my orgasm… My phone vibrates again, and I feel a wave of frisson pass up my spine.
[7:44 PM] Amy: I’m waiting.
I feel my heat rising again. Yes ma’am. I hold out my phone and snap a photo. My finger hovers over the send button, unsure. This feels new. Fuck it, we ball. I hit send.
[7:45 PM] Jo: How’s this? 💋
[7:46 PM] Amy: Mmmm, good girl.
Holy fuck. I’m so wet.
[7:48 PM] Jo: Don’t I get a picture?
[7:49 PM] Amy: You already did 😉 it seems like you enjoyed it plenty already.
[7:50 PM] Amy: Talk to you soon, gorgeous. Read the next pages.
I’m left dumbfounded, holding my phone. Where did this come from? What did I set off in Amy? Whatever it is, it’s incredibly sexy.
I start to play with myself again, the Amy in my imagination acting a little more firm this time. Amy taking control, telling me what to do… Oh, I like this…
But before I dive in too far, I remember the next pages of the story. Ultimately, curiosity wins out over horniness. I open up the latest document and settle in to read.
≋ ≋ ≋
Bren and Adaric were perched on a hill, wrapped in a cloak of thick silence. Before them lay a menacing structure, its dark, towering walls seeming to bleed evil into the night sky. It was a sinister monument to the forces they were up against, a symbol of power and terror that threatened to engulf the world they held dear.
Adaric's gaze was fixed on the fortress, his eyes scanning the fortifications with a trained eye. His face was a study of concentration that belied the turmoil he felt within. It was a mission that carried the risk, or perhaps even certainty, of ending his life.
Beside him, Bren watched the fortress with an equal intensity, her hands clutching the hilt of her ax tightly. She was a warrior, hardened by battles and seasoned by experiences that would have broken lesser individuals. Yet, her presence here was not part of any mission; she had chosen to follow Adaric, driven by an inexplicable pull towards him.
Adaric's gaze returned to the fortress, his mind working its way through the information he had received from his superiors.
"It used to be a place of worship," he said, his voice a low murmur in the quiet night. His fingers traced an imaginary path on the tattered, small square of a map spread out before them, marking the route through the catacombs. "A fortified beacon of light for this entire region, before the dark took over. Now, it's a fortress, but the catacombs... they remain untouched. I will pass through here, from the back, under cover of darkness."
Adaric turned to Bren. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, the words carefully chosen. "Our… companionship… ends here," he told her, his eyes never leaving hers. The statement hung in the air between them, a stark declaration that sliced through the tension. "This will be too dangerous, too likely to result in your death for you to join me."
Adaric watched as, as predicted, Bren became a roiling tempest of anger. Adaric's words, their intention a selfless act of protection, were a slap to her pride, a dismissal of her strength and resilience. The air around them seemed to crackle with her indignation.
"Who do you think you are?" she exploded, her voice an inflamed hiss. "You stand here, telling me to leave as if I'm some helpless damsel?" Her eyes flashed dangerously, her every word laced with venom.
"Do you mock me, Adaric? Haven’t you learned yet?" She jabbed a finger at his chest, her fury undiminished. "I am not weak. I am not some rich girl’s fragile doll. I am a thrallhost slayer!"
Adaric could only endure her tirade. He opened his mouth to interject, but she cut him off, her anger far from spent.
"And another thing," she raged on, every word punctuated with a pointed jab of her finger, tears appearing in her eyes. "You have no right to throw your life away, Adaric, no goddamn right." Her voice wavered, but she pushed on, her gaze never leaving his. "Not when you've given me something to care about in this bleak, forsaken world!"
A glimmer of unshed tears replaced the fierceness in her gaze, yet her anger remained palpable. The stern facade he held slipped away, replaced by a soft, understanding look. Wordlessly, he stepped forward, pulling her into a protective embrace.
Bren’s hand pushed against his chest to shove him away, but the motion was half-hearted. He resisted her push, holding her fast. In moments, her defiance melted as she sunk into his arms. Adaric held Bren, feeling her body tremble against his. He didn’t want to let her go, he never wanted to let her go.
Over her shoulder, he could see the fortress, his doom. For a moment, he considered just turning around, and leaving with Bren. They wouldn’t have to abandon the mission, they could stage raids from the countryside, ambushes. Disrupt supply chains… He shook his head. He knew what he had to do.
Then, he gently pulled back, creating a small distance between them. He held her at arm's length, his hands firm on her shoulders. His eyes, usually so hard and unreadable, were soft now, filled with emotions he often kept hidden.
"Bren," he began, his voice steady despite the emotional turmoil within him. "This is my solemn vow." His words were simple, yet they carried a weight. “I swear I will do everything in my power to return to you. I will not throw away my life, even if it serves a greater purpose, but for this day only. If my death seems imminent, I will leave, and return to complete my task another day.”
He was promising her something that was beyond his control, beyond their control. Yet, he made the vow nonetheless, because he needed her to understand, to know what he was willing to do, for her, for them.
Bren looked into his eyes, her own reflecting a mix of emotions. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she responded. The steel returned to her gaze, replacing the earlier vulnerability. "I'm coming with you," she said, her voice strong and unwavering. "There's no way in hell I'm even giving you a chance to die in there."
Her words, her determination to stand by him, stirred something within him. It was a feeling of connection, of belonging, that he had not experienced in a long time. It was a feeling that made him believe, even if for a moment, that they could face anything, as long as they were together. Against his better judgment, he nodded.
Bren turned away from Adaric, her shoulders rigid. Her hand came up to angrily wipe away the tears that had escaped her eyes. For a moment, she stood with her back to him, her body silhouetted against the dim glow of the moon. The night seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would come next.
Then, she turned back to him, her eyes hardened once again. She moved swiftly towards Adaric, her steps resolute. Before he could react, she reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him towards her. Her grip was firm, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.
Without a word, she pulled him into a kiss. It was aggressive and passionate, a manifestation of all the emotions that were swirling within her. It was a kiss born out of anger and fear, but also out of love and desperation. It was a kiss that said more than words ever could.
Adaric responded to her kiss, his hands coming up to cradle her face. He matched her intensity, his own emotions spilling into the kiss. His heart pounded in his chest, the reality of their situation forgotten for a moment as he lost himself in her.
As they broke apart from the kiss, Adaric's hands remained on Bren, moving from her shoulders to softly cradle her face. His fingertips traced the curve of her cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a gentleness that she did not resist. His thumb gently caressed her lower lip, a tender touch that seemed to still the world around them.
She held his gaze, her eyes softening under his tender touch. It was a simple gesture, yet it held a depth of feeling that went beyond the raw desire they had shared before. In that moment, they both understood that their bond went deeper than the physical. It was a connection of souls, a bond that was forged in the fires of their shared trials and tribulations. And that realization was more potent than any physical connection they had ever shared.
Finally, they broke apart. Bren kept her hold on his shirt, an aggressive fist full of fabric, her eyes locked onto his. There was a new determination in her gaze, a silent promise that she wouldn't let him face his destiny alone. It was a promise that Adaric accepted, knowing that together, they were stronger. And perhaps, just perhaps, they stood a chance against the darkness that awaited them.
Adaric's hands slid from her face, trailing down her body until they came to rest on her buttocks. He pulled her towards him. Bren responded to his touch, her body pressing against his as she initiated another kiss, her lips moving against his with a renewed passion.
A soft moan escaped her lips and flowed into his mouth as her hand moved lower, slipping into his pants. Adaric stiffened immediately. Her fingers closed around him, a provocative smile playing on her lips as she felt the reaction her touch elicited. She took her time, relishing the way his breath quivered against her lips each time her hand moved.
She traced the length of him, her fingers lightly dancing over his skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through him. She could feel him throbbing in her grip. His breath came out in short, ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling rapidly under her touch.
Pulling back from the kiss, Bren leaned into his ear. Her breath, hot and tantalizing, sent shivers down his spine. "This is all you'll get," she whispered, her voice low and teasing. Her hand moved, stroking him a few more times before she abruptly withdrew, leaving him panting and wanting more.
"I fight better when I'm worked up," she told him, her voice husky and filled with unspoken promises. "And I thought you could use some... motivation." Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she adjusted her clothing, the smirk on her face indicating that she knew exactly the effect she had on him.
As they prepared to leave, Bren turned to Adaric, her gaze playful. "If we make it out alive," she started, her voice firm and confident, "you can do anything you want to me." The promise in her words was enough to reignite the fire in Adaric's eyes, giving him a renewed sense of determination. Whatever lay ahead, he knew one thing for certain; he would fight with everything he had, for their survival, and for the promise of what could be.
