Solo Shots

Chapter 4: Cherry Pie

- Warnings: SoloF, Minor (type 2 - teenager), M/F (implied), F/F (implied)

Too excited to open her package the ‘normal’ way, Kitty reached through the nondescript brown cardboard and extracted the contents.  Her phasing power, a power for which she was eternally grateful, meant she never needed to bother with shrink wrap, or packing peanuts, or box-cutters, or even doorknobs.  She giggled to herself at the thought and examined her newest acquisition.

Kitty’s dark eyes took in the sight: flesh-colored from base to tip, nine inches long and two across, complete with head, veins, and faux testicles, the dildo she’d ordered online appeared to be a reasonable facsimile of her boyfriend Piotr Rasputin, the gentle giant Colossus.  She ran her hands along the length of it, noting that the ‘pleasure-skin’ material did, in fact, feel pretty realistic.  A shiver crawled up her spine and her breath grew ragged as she imagined the many times she’d actually handled Pete’s member just so; the only noticeable discrepancies were the suction cup at the base of the toy and the lack of the rest of Pete’s delicious muscled body.  Not to mention his gentle voice, thought the young woman wistfully.

Into an undifferentiated pile on the floor fell Kitty’s clothes – zippers and buttons were also obsolete to her – except for her favorite necklace, a gold Star of David that hung at the juncture of her clavicles.  Not even her hair-tie was spared, her signature ponytail devolving into its natural shoulder-length mahogany cascade.  She brought the faux phallus up to her face and began nuzzling; her nether regions moistened in response.  This thing feels so lifelike, she marveled.

On a whim, Kitty took the tip into her mouth, curious about the taste of her new toy.  I need the practice, she mused, because, despite Pete’s claims to the contrary, we both know how much I suck at… err, blow at… how bad I am at giving head.  She opened her small mouth as wide as she could, barely able to get her lips around the thing.

As soon as her tongue made contact, Kitty’s face scrunched into a grimace.  She pulled the dildo from her mouth, her hopes to improve her oral sex skills dashed.  She rubbed her tongue against her teeth, trying to scrape the awful flavor from her taste buds.  Back to the original plan, she told herself en route to her bathroom.

After retrieving a towel from the cabinet, the young woman took a moment to look at herself in the mirror.  Too dark to be ‘fair’ but too light to be olive, her unblemished skin formed a smooth surface for her toned, fit body.  The aforementioned necklace she thought looked most enticing where it hung.  Her breasts, crowned with dusky brown nipples, she wished were larger than a B-cup, but at least they were perky.  And Pete likes them, which counts for a lot, she reassured herself.  Her free hand roamed absently through the trimmed patch of hair on her groin, the moisture already coating the outer contours of her pussy.

Biting her lip, Kitty ran the disembodied penis, from tip to base, between her legs against her aroused genitals.  The textured surface of the toy, replete with veins, dragging against Kitty’s clit practically curled her toes where she stood, to say nothing of the return stroke.  Her juices began flowing in earnest and smeared all over the large toy, making each cycle more and more pleasurable.

The towel on her forearm fell to the floor when she pitched suddenly forward; she managed to catch herself on the countertop as an orgasm coursed through her body.  Kitty moaned in surprise as her insides throbbed with intense warmth and pleasure.  Her buttocks clenched and unclenched, the climax subsiding as quickly as it had begun.

Not nearly satisfied, Kitty picked up the fallen towel and hurried to her bed, where she laid the cloth lengthwise atop the sheets.  She herself climbed onto the mattress and lay back, her legs parted and her butt more or less centered on the terrycloth.  Her left hand spread her nether lips open while the tip of the dildo gently probed the opening.  Determined to see her plan through, Kitty tried to ensure the proper lubrication of her substitute lover.

The artificial penis, poised to penetrate her, pushed noticeably against her hymen – contrary to what romance novels claimed, the “virgin barrier” stood at the entrance to the vagina and merely formed a partial membrane, liable to tear at any form of penetration, not to mention several kinds of strenuous activity.  The young woman inhaled, deeply, shakily.  Relax, she soothed, this is why I bought this thing in the first place.  Gripping the base of the shaft in a manner resembling, as much as anything, a “happy dagger,” she pushed the dildo inward.

Eyes squeezing shut, Kitty hissed through clenched teeth at the sharp pain lancing through her most sensitive area when her hymen gave way.  For many long moments she could do nothing but lie there and wait for the pain to subside.  She felt something – probably blood – trickling out of her, down the insides of her thighs, and onto the towel.  Dimly she felt glad for her caution.

When the pain finally dulled, she resumed pushing the instrument into her, inch by delicious inch.  To her wonder, she actually felt herself slowly stretching to accommodate the manufactured member.  For a few moments, she merely lay panting, processing all the new sensations.

“Pete… ohhhhhh my God… it’s… so big,” she moaned in apostrophe.  Kitty marveled at how she’d managed to fit so much of it inside her – more than seven inches, according to her estimate – but at the same time felt disappointed that she just couldn’t handle the last two.  Still, not too bad for having never put anything in there before – not even a finger or a tampon.

Gingerly she began moving the monster in a slow, short thrusting motion.  Each and every one of the nerve endings inside her fired with each thrust.  Her legs spread even wider, as if to welcome the pleasure pouring into her body, pleasure the likes of which Kitty had never imagined, let alone experienced.

She laughed aloud, giddily, her heart light with elation.  “Pete, you can fit,” she cried, literally – tears of joy flowed freely from her eyes.  Kitty had been terrified that she could never enjoy making love to her big Russian teddy bear because of his size; Piotr had shared similar fears, vowing not to bed her if it meant he received all the pleasure while she received only pain.  Both sets of concerns had now been laid to rest because of Kitty’s bold, secret plan to experiment with a facsimile.  She sped up, enjoying the hell out of her experiment.

Vaginal muscles clamped down around the sex toy when Kitty peaked the second time.  In fact, the petite brunette’s whole body seized up, a look of pure bliss frozen on the young woman’s face.  The noises escaping her could have been moans, or they might have been sobs – even Kitty wasn’t sure.

When she could finally move again, the exhausted teen carefully withdrew the enormous inanimate object from inside her and started cleaning up.  The toy itself was simply covered in her fluids, primarily lubrication but her blood also.  She wiped it off with the towel before blotting her privates dry, noting the additional staining involved.  Once she’d finished that, she slumped back on her bed, too exhausted to put the towel into the laundry yet.

Kitty smiled tiredly to herself.  She could already tell that she would be sore in the morning, but judged it a fair price to pay to know that she could handle Pete’s large member inside her.  Just before drifting off to sleep, she kissed the tip of the lifelike phallus, murmuring, “Best forty bucks I ever spent.”

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Next door, an equally-fatigued, equally-sated Jubilee put her toy away and crawled into bed.  While listening in on Kitty’s session, she’d had a half-dozen more orgasms, none eliciting more from her than some heavy gasping.  From the noises she’d heard, Kitty had had a mind-blowing good time, and it took every ounce of restraint on Jubilee’s part not to interrupt her and ask to join in.  They’d masturbated together once, but afterward things had gotten… awkward, so she knew it wouldn’t happen again.

“Bobby Drake, Piotr Rasputin, Alison Crestmere, Kitty Pryde,” sighed the lonely bisexual girl, “you have no idea how lucky the four of you are.”