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A Woman's Need For Virile Little Boy Jizz	By : Tastatura Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 29701 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters portrayed. Pokemon does not belong to me. I make no money by doing this.

Chapter List
- 1-First Pokemon; First Orgasm
- 1
Throughout the world of Pokemon, the months of summer are typically consumed by a period of busyness unseen throughout any other portion of the year. It is within this 3-4 month period that the vast majority of fledgling trainers finally old enough to formally receive their first Pokemon take their first steps away from home. With adventure on their minds and dreams within their hearts, these children fearlessly approach the unknown with only the far-off fulfilment of their goals as motivation.

The yearly departures made by these children are for the rest of the world a time to relish youth, give back to society, and in some cases, profit from doing so. Few if any children leaving home for the very first time do so without proper provisions for their trips. Alongside a healthy amount of spending money, the parents of these children can be found carefully stockpiling items and equipment for their progeny in preparation for their journeys. Because of this, even the smallest of outlets within a given city see a considerable increase in sales revenue each and every time the months of summer roll in.

Described succinctly, a tidal wave of currency and resources submerge the modern world for the same period year in and year out. Most any one can profit from it, and regardless of who does, a fresh batch of trainers leave home prepared to take on the world.

Regrettably, as with any predictable economic upturn, there are those who use these yearly periods as a means of undercutting their fellow man for monetary gain. Sometimes through corrupt business practices and other times through outright criminal activity, these individuals make use of whatever 'tool' is most immediate to them to ensure that they walk away the financial 'winner' in whatever region that they operate within. Even if theft becomes necessary for them to remain afloat, their efforts continue unhindered.

How they accomplish this is not a matter of their having no scruples or the world around them turning a blind eye to their practices. In truth, it is a matter of organization; though a fair number of these criminals operate independently from one another, the majority are congregated under the same, multi-level banner.

The names and number of these organizations grow by the decade, but few are more prominent throughout the world than 'Team Rocket'. Year by year, the summer departures enjoyed around the world are sometimes blighted by the occasional instance of fraud or theft by the organization on a number of different scales.

Thus, for their own safety, children who leave home during the summer are cautioned by most parents with a phrase passed down from decade to decade:

“Watch out for Team Rocket.”

-

A ROUTE SOMEWHERE

Bryce was a boy that prided himself on his attention to detail. It was rare that he allowed something he learned in school to fall out of his head, and rarer still that he allowed something slight to escape his eye. Limited more so by his age than his actual ability, his failures with regard to 'seeing' things were almost always a consequence of youthful inexperience.

Today, his youth compelled him to walk across the main ROUTE leading in and out of his home town with his eyes focused on a Pokeball as opposed to the road ahead. Gifted with his first Pokemon mere hours prior, the dark-haired youth had spent a dangerous amount of time since then staring at the gleaming red ball that contained his newfound partner. Thus far, he had spared it from his gaze for only a few short minutes--just long enough for him to thank his professor, say goodbye to his parents, and make his way out of the city without harming himself.

This had occurred over an hour ago. Surrounded by sun-warmed wilderness well away from the safety of his home, the endearment that he felt towards the little red ball and the beast that it contained still managed to completely occupy his attention as he progressed.

Blameless and innocent, his was a condition that many other young trainers endured upon leaving home. It would pass with time and experience, but until this point, the world at large stood equipped to surprise the starry-eyed youth in any manner that it wished.

Whether or not Bryce would even react to this surprise was another matter entirely. Even now, the shorts and cap-clad youth could be found narrating his progression with youthful thoughts about Pokemon.

“So I already know that's he's gonna be good against those types of Pokemon, but that's not the end of it, huh?” he thought aloud. “No matter how strong he gets, he's still gonna have trouble with other types that are good against him. That means that I gotta catch a bunch of other types to help support him no matter what!”

Knowing his conclusion to be rather typical with regards to Pokemon team composition, Bryce nodded to himself to affirm the conclusion he had verbalized. Though he had come to understand the concept over a year prior, speaking it aloud on the road to a new place made doing so feel somewhat more significant to him.

“All of that stuff takes a lotta time, though. Everyone back home said that rushing wouldn't be a good idea, so for now, I'll just try to make this guy as strong as I possibly can!”

Just the thought of accomplishing this was enough to tape a smile to the fairly-skinned boy's face. Half cute and confident, the drive required to achieve his goal and the youth required to shrug off the difficulties that accompanied it shone through this smile like a beacon.

Perhaps too powerful a one.

“Mmm, yes, that'd be very helpful of you. That way, we'd have an even more valuable Pokemon on our hands when we inevitably steal it from you.” a male voice applauded.

“Dat's it, now you're tinkin' with ya head, James! We jus' gotta follow dis little squoit right here around four a bit an' we'll have a Pokemon ripe for a pluckin' hihi!” added a second voice, this one pitched higher and oddly accented.

“What is wrong with you two!? What kind of idiots recite their plans out loud right where the target can hear them? UGHHH, no we're going to have to take this brat's Pokemon right away!”

A third voice, this one disgruntled and feminine, spoke loudly enough to pull Bryce's attention away from his Pokeball and back onto the world around him.

To his surprise, this world was very different from the open road he had laid eyes on after leaving the city. Arranged horizontally at his front was a man, a woman, and a Meowth--all of whom seemed at odds with one another as a result of the woman's utterance.

None of the three were familiar to him, but the crimson block letter engraved into the outfits worn by the man and the woman told him that there was a reasonable explanation for this.

Thrusting his Pokeball behind his back, Bryce raised his subordinate hand in an incredulous point at the trio with a frown on his face.

“Y-You're Team Rocket, aren't you?”

Having unwittingly stated the obvious, the man referred to as 'James' by the Meowth closed his eyes in the production of a smug laugh.

“Mmm-hmm-hmm, yes, you've got that right!” he chuckled, arms crossed at his chest. “Regardless, I think it's about time we properly introduce ourselves.”

“MMMM To protect the world fr--”

Moments away from slipping into what appeared to be a rather long winded dialogue, another incensed exclamation from the woman thrust James' attention elsewhere.

“Oh for--he's already running away you idiot!!” she barked.

“She's right, James! Usually I'd be right there wit 'ya but we gots some twoip to snag!”

Whilst the trio bickered, Bryce fled. Bolting into the tree-line to his left the moment an opportunity presented itself, the boy sprinted through the thin brush between trees as quickly his legs could carry him.

The image of Team Rocket maintained within his mind was of a violent criminal organization willing to use force to steal Pokemon (among other things) from others. Being a new trainer with only a single Pokemon to his name, standing up against two adult members of such an organization was unlikely to turn out well for him. For the sake of his yet-started journey and newfound partner, heeding his fight or flight instincts and attempting an escape seemed to the boy as his best option.

As such, he emptied his mind and ran. Ignoring the sound of footsteps behind him, he weaved through branches and around deadfall along a path illuminated by what little light shone down into the forest from the tree branches above him.

Within a minute, the sound of footsteps behind him grew fainter.

Still, his body refused to slow. Believing its life to be on the line, the pace set by his frame would be maintained until his eyes confirmed that he was no longer in danger.

Or, as was the case in reality, until his sneaker-clad feet ran out of ground to sprint across.

In his desperation to escape from the forest, Bryce did not stop to consider what might be waiting for him past whatever 'end' of treeline he escaped through.

It thusly came as a painful surprise to him when this 'what' was revealed to be the edge of a cliff.

Without ground to dig his feet into, his eyes shot downward in search of the missing ground.

In place of this ground, his eyes found thin air, then, much further downward from his position leaping from the edge of a cliff, a stream.

Or perhaps a river.

Whatever it was, it would not be long until he found out.

Without a flying type Pokemon to his name or anyone capable of bailing him out of his current situation, Bryce did what all that he could:

He fell.

And he screamed.

By the time his pursuers arrived at the same cliff edge from which he had jumped, the fear and desperation within his voice existed only as an echo projected along the face of the cliff.

Fortunately, it was not yet quiet enough for the would-be villains to ignore.

“Ohhhh...ohhh shit.” falling to his knees by the egde of the cliff, James could only look off the edge in mild horror at what had come to pass.

“Uh...Meowth...that kid didn't happen to have a flying type on him, did he?”

Equally mortified, Meowth responded without taking his own eyes off of the stream below the cliff.

“N-No, James. I don't 'tink he did...”

Mutually shell-shocked by their folly, it once again fell to Jessie to act in the pair's stead. Feeling guilt wad within the back of her throat, she reached into her blouse and retrieved a miniaturized Pokeball. Maximizing it with her index finger, she smoothly tossed it past the cliff's edge prior to leaping off behind it.

Catching the talon of an ill-begotten flying Pokemon, she bent a scowl towards her peers in midair.

“Don't just stand there gawking! If the brat is alive down there, we should at least try to help him. We can worry about taking his Pokemon after that!” she barked.

“I'll fly down and find out; you two start scaling the cliff and meet me down there!”

Silent, James and Meowth nodded their heads. Now was not the time for a wordy dialogue amongst the three of them—however unsavoury their practices, trading human life for monetary profit was not a level that the pair wished to stoop to.

Like this began the trio’s unlikely rescue effort. Whilst James and Meowth returned to the forest line they had broken from in search of a way down the cliff, Jessie trained her eyes on the ground below and grit her teeth in hopes that concentrating might somehow will the boy below to safety…

-

AN HOUR LATER—RAVINE BASE

Darkness.

Light.

Overwhelming Fatigue.

In his return to consciousness, Bryce experienced these things at their utmost one after another. The darkness of his unconsciousness required the most time and effort for him to overcome, but it was the uncertainty in the world's light and the fatigue in his frame that worried the boy most when he regained consciousness.

When first he found the strength to open his eyes, his limbs felt different--heavier than they had been when llast he had connected with them. The complexion of his surroundings was different as well; bright, non-descript, and yet somehow crimson red in certain patches, it was to him a far cry from the world he recalled most fondly..

Eventually, the recalibration of his eyes by the world's light presented a reason for this. Within a short few seconds of blinking and staring, it became apparent to him that a familiar face was very close to his own.

One that he deeply wished to forget.

“Good, you're awake. You should be at your age, but that honestly took less time than I thought.” Jessie exhaled.

A faint flash of genuine relief flicked across the woman's face, but was swiftly overwhelmed by her usual haughtiness.

“How're you feeling? If you're hurt somewhere, I want to hear it now. And no, scraps don't count, twerp.”

Unpleasantly surprised, Bryce lurched backwards the moment his mind processed Jessie's identity. In the moment, his memories only extended as far back as his encounter with Team Rocket on the street. As a result, he arrived at the erroneous conclusion that his current condition and that encounter were connected.

“W-What do you care?” he stammered, hopeless aggression mapped out over his features. “I-Isn't this your fault? I-I only ended up where...wherever this is because of you guys trying to steal my Pokemon!”

Jessie had predicted an outcome like this. Peeling her palms off of the youth’s face, she afterwards kissed her teeth in annoyance when Bryce's defensiveness began to necessitate

“I know what you're probably thinking, but you're only half right, twerp...” eyes closed, she raised a finger to the sky.

If only out of reflex, Bryce's eyes followed.

“You see that cliff? You jumped off of that running away from us and ended up down here.” she explained. “I came down here expecting the worst, but it looks like whatever Pokemon you've got must've helped break your fall.”

“And for your information, I'm down here to help. Ungrateful little brat...”

Inadvertently, Bryce recalled a feeling. A pair of hands on his cheek; warm and unmoving.

Alone, the memory eased his fear into a mild dis-trust.

“W-Well...” he began, eyes surveying his surroundings. “...Thanks, I guess. I-I don't need any help from Team Rocket, though. If you're not here to fight, I'd prefer it if you just left me alone.”

To this, Jessie rolled her eyes in derision.

“Actually, twerp, I think you do. I mean, have you even looked at yourself yet? Even if you're not injured, you're still a complete mess.”

Distrustful of Jessie's assessment, Bryce turned his eyes downward. From the surface of his arms down to the tips of his sneakers, every inch of his body had acquired a thin layer of dust or dirt. Mild bruises and scrapes could be found wherever exposed flesh lay, but to his surprise, not an inch of his frame was wet.

Meaning that he had never collided with the river flowing nearby.

Obstinate nevertheless, he completed his physical survey with a sharp turn of his face away from Jessie's.

“I-I said I'm fine. When I get to the next town, I'll be able to clean up a bit...”

These were not the words that Jessie had intended to hear. Narrowing her gaze for a moment, she eventually rolled her shoulders in apparent submission.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Jessie's position ahead of Bryce shifted before she even finished speaking. In the blink of an eye, she lunged towards her stubborn captive and dug her palms into his shoulders. Grasps firm and aggressive, she drew him back to his feet with a quick extension of her knees, and even supported his weight when his worn legs attempted to give out.

She made certain that her efforts went unobstructed as well.

“If you even think about keeping up that stubborn act, I'll make you wish you were still unconcious.” she warned venomously.

Albeit unwillingly, Bryce compiled. One look up at Jessie's face as she spoke these words told him that, for the first time since their meeting, she was being entirely serious.

Her aim achieved, Jessie continued with her plan to 'help' the youth.

“Good. I think a quick dip in edge of that stream should fix you right up.” she suggested. “You're probably too weak to get anything done on your own, so I'll help you out just this once...”

All too casually, Jessie returned to her knees in front of Bryce. Hands reconvening at his hips, she guided several of her fingers underneath the waistline of his shorts.

“H-Hey, what're you doing!?” protested Bryce.

“Undressing you, obviously. No need to be embarrassed; you're just some idiot kid after all. I'm sure I'll mana--”

When the rim of Bryce’s shorts finally passed over his crotch and the entirety of his member was allowed to bob out into the air space ahead of Jesse’s face, all ‘cause’ she had to describe the boy as an actual child disappeared.

Without warning, over a few of perspiration glossed cock—likely just over 14 inches by her measure—sprang outer and upward from the boy’s naked crotch up through an imposing ‘hang’ above her face.

The moment Jessie laid eyes on it, both thinking and breathing became difficult for her. Really, a great many things did; everything unrelated to hungrily gawking at the sweaty, wrist-dense pipe became a conscious effort that she would have wished to rid herself of were she sane.

There was good reason for this. Putting aside its length and girth, the curved, light-brown baseball bat of flesh owned qualities that she deemed to be both disgusting and ideal. Gilding its monstrous girth was a succinct system of flesh-wrapped blood vessels organized in mimicry of a tree and its branches. Beginning from the engorged ‘trunk’ represented by his urethra, numerous branches reticent of sorely overcooked noodles spread out and around the surface of his member before branching off into similarly-sized (and similarly squirmy) extensions.

Regardless of their direction, most all of these veins painted a direct path to the boy’s glans. The helmet-shaped bludgeoning tool that ought to have been exposed alongside his smooth and musky testicles sat enveloped within a dense sock of loosely-drawn foreskin. As a result of this excess, the uncut sock managed to completely obscure his cock from its tip upwards without biting into the flesh of his glans as was ‘the norm’.

In every other sense, it was normal. At the fringe of this sock where its end met the nose of Bryce’s glans, a pale, yellow-white substance could be seen caked underneath his foreskin. The size and extent of this caking—a full circle trip around the nearly fist-sized bloat of his glans—led Jesse’s eyes to assess his endowment as having gone several days without a proper scrubbing.

As well, it prompted her to reassess her situation.

Now was no longer the time for playing the part of a helpful older woman.

Now was the time for fun.

“O-On second thought…” leaving Bryce’s shorts at the middle of his thighs, Jessie stood upright and backed away from his front by several inches.

“I could use a bit of a dip as well. If you’re going to be so finicky about this, I’ll show you that I mean business beforehand.”

Jessie did not need a shower...at least not to the extent of the boy in front of her. Still, where children were concerned, she was of the opinion that the best way to lead was by example. Thus, for no reason other than her desire to further tempt the half-naked boy towards her, she broke away from his side in a sultry, hip-swaying stride towards the edge of the river that she had pointed out. Hooking her gloved fingers underneath the black tanktop beneath her uniform's mini-top as she went, both garments were smoothly peeled up and over her breasts and skull just before she arrived at the water's edge.

After this (and without turning around to confirm Bryce's reaction to the heap of clothing she had left behind), she leapt forward into a curved dive straight into the water. Carried into its depths by momentum, she quickly found her chest inches short of contact with the sloped flooring of the water body’s shallows.

A few seconds lingering at this position was all that she needed. Once elapsed, she pushed off of the ground with both of her feet to send her frame through a sharp ascent back up to the river’s surface. Finding her footing as she rose, she went from swimming through its water to climbing through it as though a staircase had been set underneath her feet. Exiting the water with the same hip-swaying saunter she had used to approach it, her first step back onto dry land acquainted Bryce with a woman very different from the one that had left him.

This woman was drenched with water, half-naked, and better off for both of these things. The sleek and stable sickle of rouge hair that had curled away from the back of her head could now be found suckled to her face, shoulders, and upper back in an assortment of soaked, individual strands. No less luscious and lengthy for the moisture infused in them, many of these strands could be found clumped together in miniature curtains that both obscured and protected fractions of her upper body from the naked eye.

At least they did until Jessie removed them.

The slight blankets of wet hair draped over the palm-width plumpness of her breasts and the feminine tone of her shoulders and abdominals were momentarily drawn out of position by her left hand. Collected into a single massive bundle at the back of her head, the gesture seemed a natural consequence of her having an excess of hair that needed to be drawn off of her body.

It was. But this did not change the fact that Jessie had exposed herself intentionally.

By collecting her soaked hair in this way, the D-cup mounds highly-strung to her chest were exposed in all of their moist and buoyant glory. Owning a squishy ampleness betrayed by the clothing that so often obscured them and a gleam rooted in the descent of water droplets across their mass and between their cleavage, the fact that they were hidden from the world more often than they were exposed to it was almost a shame.

Owed in part to Jessie's above average height, neither of the pale mounds owned a swell fat enough to obscure the indentations of her abdominals from view. Instead 'announcing' themselves by way of a pair of pert, gum-drop pink nipples threaded to appropriately wide areola and a curved sloping off of her chest and towards whomever she might face, her breasts could be clearly made out as a 'part' of her figure as opposed to its defining feature.

Below her abdominals could be found a 'reservoir' for the water that trickled down through their striations. As Jessie had opted not to remove her mini-skirt and underwear prior to plunging into the river, both articles of clothing could now be found accentuating the construction of her lower body with a mouth-watering whorishness.

Now laden with water, her miniskirt's waistline sat a pair of inches below the grooved peaks of her hips. As well, its soaked threads bit into the meat of her thighs with more force--enough for the naked eye to discern exactly how thick the layers of flesh and muscle at the region were.

In spite of their enhancement, the framing of these regions still couldn't be considered as the 'best' things about her lower body's appearance. As a result of her skirt's shift, the title of 'best' was shared between the presentation of her ass and crotch curvature.

From the front, string-thin straps undoubtedly owned by a thong or micro-bikini could be seen digging into the pockets of fat plastered to the curvature of her hips. Trailing in towards her hidden lower lips across an appropriately obtuse path, the strings descended to a point just underneath the soaked hem of her mini-skirt and left nothing to the imagination as they went.

From behind, another set of strings could be found fractions-of-an-inch away from complete consumption by the fat of her buttocks. Though not so excessive as to invalidate the skin-tight hold her mini-skirt applied to their mass, the scale of both cheeks could be clearly inferred through the soaked garment's threads. Made to jiggle and bounce for each step that Jessie took in her approach, the fact that the frame-scaled peach was hidden by Jessie's position was in truth a boon for boy ahead of her. Had Bryce been forced to watch it throughout this sequence, his mind was sure to have created its own mental picture depicting the patch of fabric secured between Jessie's cheeks sliding and swaying alongside it.

Appropriately, Jessie did not waver after deciding to flaunt her figure. Planted confidently at the lake's edge without a hint of shame, she allowed Bryce to take in the sight of her for several seconds before speaking up about his gawking. In this time, she could not help but muse to herself about how appealing innocence could be when combined with outrageous sexuality.

“Well, well, that's a first; he actually seems shy about looking at me like this. I guess that cock of his hasn't pushed him to indulge in porn yet.” she thought to herself. “It's fortunate for me, but I almost feel bad for the brat. The amount of cum he's carrying around inside that thing is probably downright painful...”

Whereas her thoughts suggested a degree of sympathy, the expression on her face suggested that she derived a great deal of pleasure from the thought of Bryce's ball's being bloated with cum.

Really, though, her thoughts on the subject were irrelevant. Soon enough, she'd be able to experience the truth of his condition first hand.

“I suppose I'd better let him off the hook before he starts drooling or something. Somebody really ought to teach him manners, though; making a lady have to be the first one to speak in a situation like this is downright unacceptable.” she grumbled internally.

“Cute, but unacceptable.”

Mind made up, Jessie released the bundle of red hair at the back of her skull. Dried just enough (hardly any at all) to flop down into a relatively uniform blanketing of her back, the gesture left the entirety of her front exposed just as it had been before. Now, however, her facial features did not have to fight for salience with her hair.

Visually speaking, she was as she ought've been upon stepping out of the lake in the first place.

“There, now we're the same.” Jessie started, voice more so bored and annoyed. “Now all you have to do is get into the water and let me help you get cleaned up. What I'm asking for isn't very difficult, so you can either leave, or stop being stubborn and let me help you.”

Well aware of what it was held Bryce to his spot (this being the still-fattening spire of cock pulsing and drooling at his crotch), Jessie played ignorant in hopes that the boy would create an opportunity for her.

As starved as she was for the monstrous endowment and its crotch-soaking stink, she had an image to uphold. So long as she could help it, immediately dropping to her knees and stuffing her face into a boy's balls was not something she wished to do.

At least not out in the open.

Much to her surprise, it didn't take long for Bryce to produce the 'in' that she had been hoping for. Like any other adolescent, time was required for him to come to terms with the soaked and shapely female figure ahead of him. Once relatively acclimated to it (or as much so as was possible for a pent up child), a semblance of the boy's personality returned to him.

“...You might be telling the truth, but that doesn't mean I want to make you do anything that's gross or hard...” he muttered, frowning. “ I-I was really excited to leave home today, so I didn't get a chance to bathe properly. So i-if you try to do that...”

“What, so your body is a mess and you don't want me to have to deal with it? Just who do I think I am you, kid?” as Jessie interjected, a haughty smirk spread over her lips. “I'll have you know that I've dealt with much larger males with much nastier bodies than yours. It'll take more than a cute little twerp like you to scare me. As a matter of fact...”

As fearless as ever, Jessie closed the gap between them with another sultry stride into Bryce's space. At the boy's front, she spread her legs apart and dropped her moistened frame down into a deep, almost-practised squat ahead of his front. Face (and mouth by proxy) levelled precious inches away from the gloved tip of his member, she nevertheless pressed the outer fringes of her palm (gap between index finger and thumb) directly against the opposing sides of his waist to pull his crotch even closer to her face.

Just the smell of sweat and urine alone was enough to tease a thin strand of drool out from the right side of her mouth into a curved slide towards her chin. Diving forward and smashing the boy's entire member into the lust-slicked embrace of her throat was presented by her mind as the only 'means' by which she could stop this drooling, but for the moment, doing so was not an option that she could make use of.

Presently, there was a point that she needed to prove to her youthful captive at any cost. Thus, the faster she succeeded in proving this point, the sooner she'd be able to whet her appetite for his unwashed cock however she wished.

Pushing this point to sit at the forefront of her mind, Jessie snapped her skull inward. Bracing her move with the hands she had set to Bryce's crotch, she cleared the handful of inches that separated her face from his cocktip. Tilting her head upwards throughout the seconds-long progression, she came to a stop only when the boy's foreskin-wrapped cock stood out to stop her. More specifically, Jessie ceased to push her face inwards only after the smegma-flecked nose of Bryce's glans pushed her nostrils backwards and upwards like the prongs of a hook.

Driving herself this far made the elating stink teeming from the boy's shaft even more overpowering. Though her breathing had been shortened and sharpened by arousal, each of the light 'huffs' she produced swelled her nostrils with a pungent pocket of the boy's humid, semen-scented musk.

Within a handful of these breaths, simply willing her frame to continue with its 'presentation' was no longer enough to guarantee its compliance.

All at once, Jessie found herself in the midst of mentally describing her own circumstance and attempting to normalize it.

“G-God, he smells s-so fucking p-pent up. The way h-his cum smells is s-stronger than anything I've s-snorted from an actual man...♥” she thought. “J-Just how long did this little brat go without washing his dick or masturbating? I-Is it even possible for a kid his age to function dealing with something like this?”

For as much incredulity could be found within Jessie's internal utterances, equivalent amounts of acceptance existed to balance it.

To a point, the 'facts' concerning Bryce's frame were something that her body had already accepted. The why of this wasn't ambiguous, either :

Somehow, someway, Jessie wanted to feel his cock inside her and aid him in spurting every drop of rancid nut stored within his balls right down her throat.

To this end, she pulled herself together.

“D-Dealing with a cock like this is going to be a massive pain, but it'll only get worse if I can't stop him from putting on his little twerp tough guy act...” she reasoned to herself. “Since words aren't working, I'll just have to show him how outclassed he is by force!”

In time with the passage of this thought through her mind, Jessie sharply inhaled to draw a heavy snort of cock-scented air into her lungs and sinuses. Drawn straight from the filthy air-space most immediate to Bryce's glans, a heady dollop of precum built up at the region was drawn up into her nostrils alongside it. Owning the width of a thumbnail and the thickness of a thumb, the cock-warmed lubrication carried enough volume within it to glaze lengthy stretches of both her nasal cavities with warm, slimy precum.

Just as she had expected, flushing this goopy air into her sinuses felt to Jessie as a shot of stimulant straight into her brain. Warmed by pleasure from skull to crotch, a shiver of bliss rippled through her body throughout the seconds most immediate to the act.

Whilst her shoulders trembled and her tongue spilled from her mouth, Jessie continued snorting. Not so 'inexperienced' as to be rendered invalid by musk alone, she dragged heavy snorts of musk and precum up into her skull again and again with no signs of stopping. Repeated in short succession, the blasts of reeking air and lubrication she breathed in soon became her sole source of oxygen as well.

If only slightly, Jessie underestimated the consequences of drawing cock-stink through her porcine-drawn nostrils. Initially, her planned 'purpose' for doing so was the removal of all doubt within Bryce's mind regarding her comfort with his body.

Under the influence of intensely-potent cock-stink, her 'plans' were swiftly subjected to a great deal of change.

Donning a lustful smile, Jessie drew both of her hands off of Bryce's waist. Pushing both over towards his right hand, she gently commandeered the limb between her palms and drew it over towards the enlarged base of his member. With this, she spread the youth's fingers away from one another, and finally fastened his open palm to the very root of his shaft.

Bryce, having been both confused and stunned by Jessie's snorting, was abnormally amicable throughout this.

The contact imposed between his dominant hand and his erect endowment saw him regain just enough awareness to recognize that he was being 'purposed' against his will. But, just before an incensed 'Cut it out!' could erupt from his lips, arousing motivation wafted from Jessie's in the form of a taunt.

“What, not convinced yet? You're a hard twerp to please, aren't you~?” she exhaled slyly. “In that case, do your worst. If my snorting the stink off of such a fat fucking cock isn't enough for you, why don't you take a shot at plastering its grease onto my face?”

“If you did that, I'd smell of you for at least a few days. This should go without saying, but a mature lady such as myself would never offer something like that if she weren't prepared to take on the consequence, right ♥?”

These words tempted Bryce's conscious mind into action. He stood well aware of the fact that he was being tempted--he was simply far too worked up to care.

Donning a frown* (a petulant display of frustration more cute than it was threatening), he tightened the grasp Jessie had set around his member. Then, after bracing himself for what was sure to be a crippling amount of stimulation, he flicked his wrist downward to push the meat of his towering shaft into a descent. As a result, the sweaty underside of his shaft collided with the full length of Jessie's face to the tune of a moist, sweat-cushioned *PLAP*.

The dull, throbbing pleasure that trickled through Bryce's erection proved addicting. Whilst in no way savvy as to the best way to beat his cock across Jessie's face, he quickly slipped into a natural wrenching and flooring of his member's base with his hand. First peeling the underside of his shaft from off of Jessie's face, then slamming it back down from whence it had came, these contrastive flicks saw to the creation of an outright cock-slapping of Jessie's smooth facial features with his cock.

Between the size and span of the boy's loaf like erection and the comparatively narrow target it was beat down upon, there was no other way to describe the impacts that were delivered across her face. As Bryce's cock dwarfed Jesse's cheeks in both width and filth, each downward wrench of his wrist suffocated over half of her face underneath a curved pipe of leaking and greasy flesh. Sometimes delivered vertically and other times to a slight angle, Bryce's thumping progressively smeared the sweat caked to his member all about the surface of her face as a semen-scented exfoliate..

By virtue of biological circumstance alone, Jessie's features were spared the 'double-coating' of sweat and precum that a more conventionally-sized erection would have imposed. Whereas the meat of her cheeks were reddened and shined by the weight Bryce's cock, the beginnings of her still-moist hair received a thorough soaking with the precum continually wrung from the tip of his shaft. For every wet *PLAPP!* driven against Jessie's features, a languid rope of murky sexual lubricant was flung out into a perverse skirt towards the peak of her skull.

Despite the messes and discomfort brought about by Bryce's efforts, Jessie endured every second of her 'beating' with a hungry smirk curled across her lips.

For her, the event offered three distinct sources of satisfaction: the knowledge that Bryce had enough manhood within him to 'spank' her face, the pasting of his overwhelming musk to her cheeks, and the uterus-deep throb induced within her waist for each blow he delivered.

So long as she had these, Bryce could slap her face until his wrist failed him and she would do nothing but smile throughout.

But Bryce wouldn't do this. Jessie's gut instinct told her that the boy would tire eventually, thereby creating an opportunity for her to feed the desires that had driven her thus far.

Like a predator in its element, she awaited this moment with baited breath.

“I'm impressed. I thought it was just dumb luck that this kid ended up with such an awful horse cock so early on. Feeling him use it like this kind of makes me want to keep him ♥.” she thought to herself. “....Who says I can't, anyway? I mean, this is you you're talking about, Jessie...”

Openly licking her lips at the thought, she inadvertently produced yet more fuel for her suitor's efforts.

“I suppose we'll have to see, huh? I'll make my choice once I know how rich that chewy porridge built up within his balls actually is. But before that...”

Driving her hands upward at a moment's notice, Jessie cupped the midsection of Bryce's cock between her palms to bring his slapping session to an abrupt halt. No sooner did she feel the throbbing organ's heat against her palms did she snake their placement right up to the underside of his glans.

“...I think that's about good enough, don't you?” she suggested aloud. “Now that you know you can trust me, I'm going to get started on cleaning up your body once and for alll...”

With this, all of her fingers became involved with her grasps.

“I wonder just how filthy his smegma really is ♥.”

Again brandishing a fear-inspiring sexuality, Jessie folded the underside of her fingers straight into contact with the top half of Bryce's glans. Forming a threaded 'cage' of digits at the region, she pinched the fringes of his foreskin between her hands' thumb and index fingers, and finally began to peel the filth-laden sock of flesh clinging to his glans down across its length.

She didn't stop until this task was finished. Inch by painstaking inch, she exposed the unwashed exterior of Bryce's glans from its tip right down to the fleshy entrenchments of flesh that led right back into the trunk of his cock.

This time, it was the sight (and not the stench) of the off-white paste matted to the bulbous organ-section that pushed rivulets of saliva from between her lips. Denser, and far more pungent than any semen-based build-up ought to be, the streaks and mats that encircled the region collectively mimicked the cylindrical 'shape' held by his glans before its compression down to his cock tip’s root.

Despite being the one who had engineered the descent of the boy's foreskin and the first to lay eyes on the revolting section, Jessie did not see a shape of filth affixed to Bryce’s glans.

To her, the chunks of discoloured cheese looked like a meal.

With this in mind, she indulged in it. Parting her lips to finally flaunt the countless towers of saliva connecting the surface of her tongue with the roof of her mouth, she drove her skull forward just far enough to leave the entrance to her maw settled just short of Bryce's urethra.

Then and only then did she press his cock into her mouth. Spreading her lips as wide as was required to envelope his glans between them, she all the while inched her skull far enough forward to completely consume the initial 4 inches of his cock within her mouth.

Presently, these inches were all she needed. When her lips were pressed into the sweaty meat of his shaft and the lurid muck caked to his cock was mashed down against her taste buds, she became convinced as much.

Any extent of cock-sucking that caused her cunt to tremble and squirt before she even penetrated her own throat simply had to be correct.

“God it's so thick and salty ♥. Just feeling it melt on my tongue like this is fucking disgusting ♥.” she cooed internally. “I-I can't believe how rich it is, either. With how long it's been under there, I shouldn't still be feeling his SPERM of all things writhing in it!”

Whilst very obviously awed by the taste of Bryce's cock, Jessie's goal had not yet changed. She needed not only to properly 'clean' Bryce's cock, but to coax it to the point at which it burst.

To this end, she pushed the flavour of the sour mire melting against her tongue to the back of her mind and began driving her inward and outward like a monster starved a fluid based meal. From her position suckling to the entirety of Bryce's glans, she squeezed several additional inches of his cock past her lips before wrenching all but one of these inches right from the depths of her throat. Repeating these drives and retreats without any thought of the gooey stimulation driven against the comparatively 'clean' inches of Bryce's cock, she soon slipped into the execution of the plan that she had formulated when first she laid eyes on the state of Bryce's cock.

Formally speaking, this plan consisted of soaking Bryce's glans with her saliva and aggressively 'scrubbing' its exterior with the depths of her throat until the majority of its stinking surface area could be deemed 'free' from filth. Bryce's cock was sure to erupt in the process, and as a by-product, the 'bathing' subterfuge that she had used to get to this point would be substantiated.

So far as Bryce was concerned, Jessie's plan was not so much a plan as it was an aggressive and invasive attempt at churning the meat of his cock within her esophagus until it ceased to function. Ignorant to her thoughts and the degenerate desires that prompted them, he could only assume that her voracious throating effort was what she had meant by helping him 'get clean'.

Though initially gifted with the wherewithal required to question his circumstance, the 'why' of his bliss swiftly acquired exemption from explanation. As he watched Jessie's spread lips glide up and down his cock and muddle its sweaty gleam with layer after layer of saliva, the boy's sole concern regarding his stimulation became the 'what'.

Whether luckily or unluckily, this 'what' was presently responsible for the pleasure surging through his cock's nerve endings. Each and every inward plunge of Jessie's skull coincided with a depression of his shaft along the wriggling face of her tongue, and past this point, down into the undulating constriction of her esophagus. Passage through these regions ground the grime-caked underside of his shaft across a wriggling organ desperate for its flavor before submerging it into a mucus-backed prison just tight enough to disturb the half-melted cock-filth coating its entirety.

Thanks to Jessie's pace, Bryce perceived these slimy plunges as just fleeting enough to be indistinguishable from one another. Nonetheless, the stimulation they provided--a wringing of his meat for the liquefied grime caked to it and the reproductive mess trapped inside of it--ensured that their recurrence was salient regardless of whether or not Jessie was sliding inward or outward.

Visually speaking, it was difficult to tell whether she was sucking or throating his member. The maximum depth achieved by any one of Jessie's skull plunges enveloped nearly half of his member's ludicrous girth into the warmth of her gullet. Firmly penetrated with a sodden *GULCK!* wrenched from her esophagus as its compliment, there could be no mistaking his cock's partial engorgement of the makeshift sex tube's depths as anything other than taxing.

Despite this, Jessie never lingered. Once at the foamy* (some mixture of throat-slop and spittle) lip-line marked at her chosen depth along his member, the vicious, mucus-drenched retractions she produced seemed without the slightest bit of obstruction. As far as Bryce could tell, obstruction should have been inherent to her efforts. Bloating her neck and esophagus with his cock--a phallus progressively painting several days’ worth of smegma against the lining of her digestive tract--seemed to him as a task that only the worst sort of cock-sucking monstrosity could accomplish with ease. Resisting the urge to swallow his liquefied filth, refraining from gagging as the girth of his member pushed through the curvature of her throat; the list of difficulties she should have encountered only went on.

But they didn't. As seconds of her efforts turned to minutes, the vigorous *GLRP-GLRP-GLRP-GLRP* produced as she facefucked herself was never interrupted by anything other than the occasional sputter or gulp. Consequentially, Bryce did not feel certain that her throat and esophagus were being purposed any at all. Of course they were, but to his eyes, it appeared as though his member was being punched through one uniform, phallus-milking organ.

Additional years of vibrant sexual experience would be required for him to acquire legitimate confidence in this assessment.

Uncertainty on his part held no bearing on reality, however. Just as the boy had postulated, Jessie had turned the hole behind her lips into a single organ for the combined purpose she had chosen for her time with the youth.

She had done more than merely select this configuration as well. For each pinch-tight drag of her lips along the writhing bulk of Bryce's cock veins, she remained entirely aware of what it was she was accomplishing with her mouth and the sort of stimulation she was grinding into Bryce's cock.

And she enjoyed every single second of it.

“Mmnngh, god, this twerp's cock filth is getting caked to my throat~! I can feel it getting smeared deeper and deeper every time I stuff my face with it ♥.” moaning internally, Jessie basked in any and all of the nasty fruits bore from her labor without hesitation. “It's n-no wonder that it's as salty as it is. His cock has done nothing but throb inside my throat since I started. If it's like this already, the amount of cum he d-dumps out must be insane. Letting all of it get drained into my stomach almost seems like a waste ♥.”

“I wonder which one he'll like best? The way he keeps looking away and squeezing his fists together makes me feel like he wants me to splatter his dick milk right into my stomach more than anything else. If only he knew how good it felt to blow his load inside of a woman anyway at all...”

The abundance of 'internally generated' pleasure for Jessie did not distract her from the wellspring that Bryce offered. Watching the boy pant in a desperate struggle against his own stimulation fed her ego in a way that few other things could.

Before she knew it, her desire for 'more' from the youth resulted in the creation of a plan for her to get it.

Without warning, Jessie paused one of her retractions partway through in favor of driving her lips down to a wet hilt at the rooting point she had selected. Rolling her skull back and forth after the fact, thoughts as to how to make the best of Bryce's upcoming orgasm were rolled within her mind in the very same direction.

“Let's see if this doesn't change his mind a little bit…♥”

Sharpening the whorish gaze she directed up at Bryce, Jessie snapped her unused hands up into another domineering clasp of his own. Guiding the limb upward, she brought it right up to peak of her skull and forced it flat across the region.

Upon placement, she froze. Avid throating replaced with a stagnant wait over 7 inches down the length of Bryce's mast, she used her position beneath the youth to project a message towards him with her eyes.

“Wouldn't this feel so much nicer if you did it by yourself~?”

Gifted the ability to hear Jessie's urgings by virtue of desperation, Bryce agreed.

Not by choice, but by necessity.

“W-Why did she have to stop? I-If she doesn't keep going, I-I'll...”

Stirred up by his displeasure with Jessie and his need for more constriction from her throat, Bryce threaded his fingers through her moist locks as deeply as the meagre digits would go. Once locked, he mustered all of his arm strength in a clean backwards wrench of her lips right up to the tip of his cock.

Despite holding her hair for several seconds, his eyes completely missed the replacement of his cock's smegma with saliva.

“I'll do it myself!”

Galvanized, Bryce slipped into a haphazard reproduction of the messy gut-stuffing that Jessie had subjected his member to seconds prior. Punching her lips back down along his shaft at one angle before dragging them back up to his glans along other, he in doing so created a brand of stimulation all his own.

Expectedly, Jessie leveraged his efforts to her advantage. Defaulting to the production of exaggerated moans and squelching noises, she allowed her skull to be used as a fleshlight for the sole purpose of hastening the approach of Bryce's release.

Of course she succeeded in this as well. With the changed pace of penetration for her throat came a marked increase in the pulsing and twitching of Bryce's member. These changes were projected against the lining of her gullet, thereby allowing her to track their acceleration until they suggested that her muse would no longer be able to withstand the bliss he was grinding into his member. Accentuating the vile *GLRPING* her throat produced whilst gored by his cock right up until this point, she brought Bryce's efforts to an abrupt, insanity-inducing end with a single yank of her skull.

Slobber-laden lips nearly glued to one another with saliva, Jessie spoke and manipulated her hands at the same time.

“Go ahead; dump every smelly drop of your cum onto my face.” she taunted, hands finding the slop-slick midsection of his shaft again. “The inside of your cock has to be just as clean as it is on the outside, doesn't it? Otherwise, there'd be no point to any of this.”

Jessie uttered her suggestion with confidence; at this point, Bryce was sure to follow her lead. Even so, she resumed stroking his member with a conjoined 'cupping' from her palms, and parted her lips to make a target out of the pit of mucus and flesh within her mouth.

Making Bryce burst did not require any more effort than this. Dizzied by Jessie’s words and frustrated by his own circumstance, Bryce took hold of the sole freedom that remained available to him. Biding his time until moments before Jessie’s stroking edged him past the point of no return, he stabbed his hips forward to grind his member through her gunked palms and finish the task that she had started himself…

-

UNFORTUNATE CHILDREN

The sudden change of heart that saw Jessie draw Bryce's cleaned cock from the depths of her throat ended up creating a much larger 'mess' than even she had anticipated.

By the end of it, her standards for the 'size' of the average male orgasm were forever changed. As well, her trust in the idea that an orgasm within one of her holes would be bigger than one outside of her holes was shaken as well.

Neither of these changes were perceived by her as a 'bad thing'. Then and there, she thought that they were best described as trying.

In her opinion, accepting these 'changes' meant accepting that a boy mere steps into his first journey away from home (a rather small and slight boy at that) owned a musk and virility so potent that she preferred them over the qualities offered by all of her male partners in the past.

Though she had harboured quite the appetite for cum and cock-filth before hand, the knowledge that she was in fact a boy-eating predator was a little difficult for the haughty criminal to swallow.

Fortunately for Jessie, these disquieting epiphanies appeared within her mind well after Bryce finished drenching her face with cock juice. From the beginning of his erection's eruption to its end, her mind focused only on the balmy strands of nut that jetted out into contact with her musk-smeared features and the congestion of her faultless pores with their contents.

When the first of these fermented strands leapt into a vertical 'draping' across her face from her forehead down to the end of her right cheek, all of the effort that she had invested into cleaning and teasing Bryce's member was validated. A congested thread of denatured proteins and long-pent nut with the thickness of her thumb had forced her right eye closed whilst simultaneously refreshing her air-space with the pungent and painfully-arousing aroma of virile semen. Seemingly more plaster-like in quality than the 'fluid' that it was supposed to be (this suggested by the rigid 'hold' that the steaming jizz-strand applied to her face), her mind quickly arrived at the conclusion that the warmth and stench it had been treated to would soon become all consuming.

Bit by bit, the prediction that she made came true. Whilst her hands squeezed and stroked the midsection of Bryce's cock, additional ropes of curdled semen were blasted out against her features more quickly than her wrists could coax them out. Some lengthier than their predecessors and others more wadded and fat, the sludge like substance progressive degraded the musk-mired surface of her face into a slovenly canvas of smooth skin and discoloured cock juice.

There was no organization in this transformation; no clear path to follow and no clear marks of 'progression'.

It simply happened.

Behind the first, similarly sized blurts of seed joined the first in vertical bisections of her features. The majority of these were compounded atop the first (or delivered close enough to it to be added to the glutted bandage it had pasted to her face). Many others, however, were backed by enough pressure to skip the right side of her face entirely. Instead arcing across to the left side of Jessie's face, their compilation across the region complimented the caking of the right side of her face in the form of a shape. Curdled noodles of greasy seed squished beside or atop one another at both sides of her face eventually projected the shape of a oriental fan across her face--one with only a scarce few 'gaps' in its material (these gaps constituted by Jessie's skin).

Much to Jessie's surprise, the suffocation of her face under so much stinking semen was nearly orgasm inducing for her. Well before her left eye was forced, and later glued shut by the matting of the substance atop its lid, the warmth and stink that she had basked in at the beginning of Bryce's release was bolstered by two new sources of pleasure: an imagined squirming of sperm cells against her face and the conduction of an orgasmic bliss through her uterus and straight out against the crotch of her thong.

Though over half of her face was consumed underneath a steadily widening blanket of semen, the extent to which she enjoyed these things was obvious. Still with her sanity and a great deal of control over her frame, she made certain that her lips were held in the perverse smile she had projected at the beginning of Bryce's release. As well, she refused to allow the orgasms sputtering from her crotch to alter her posture. No matter how heavy the arcs of cunt-syrup that burst from between her legs, she remained squatted in place to ensure that Bryce never lost the 'canvas' for his orgasm.

Jessie did not believe Bryce to be so dense as to somehow miss the signs that she was projecting. At the same time, she did not intend to leave a single stone unturned where the youth's release was concerned.

Thus, when the streaking of semen-strands atop semen strands became the leakage of sludge dollops onto the voluminous crescent-moon of seed on her face, she broke her smiling silence to coax every additional dollop of semen possible from out of the youth's balls.

“That's right, spew out every drop of that nasty cock juice right onto my face you little brat...” she exhaled, a sultry air clinging to her voice. “You've already coated by whole face with it, so you might as well keep it going, right? That way, the inside of your cock will end up as clean as the outside. You want that, right ♥? Keeping all of this reeking, squirming baby juice inside your balls must've been unbearable for a kid like you...”

“So don't hold back. Keep staining my face with cum until my cheeks fucking stink of it ♥.”

These words ensured that Jessie would have her way--regardless of the amount of time it would take to achieve.

Urged to act in spite of the soothing euphoria that had consumed his brain, Bryce worked his dominant hand up to the midsection of his shaft inch by inch. Features worked into a grimace throughout its progression, what tightness threaded itself into his face vanished the moment his palm made contact with Jessie's fingers.

From this point onward, the boy found it within himself to smile.

Wearily, but happily; just as was appropriate for a growing boy finally at the end of his first real ‘adventure’ away from home…
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A Woman's Need For Virile Little Boy Jizz