Well, Eriell had said to do it...
And anyways, what's a little fun with yourself gonna hurt? Not like anyone else was going to do it, and even if you wanted to suck someone else's dick...bulge...whatever, no one would be a willing participant. You weren't all that demanded, at least not for anything even close to sexual, so this seemed the best option. You got more out of it anyways.
With a squint of your eyes and a small push off your desk, you're pulling your attention from the screen of your husktop and to the smooth span of your belly, an experimental hand tracing patterns above the hemline of your sweat pants. In a way, your suit ripping was a blessing. You had more freedom now, and it didn't take you for fucking ever to put on and take off your clothing. That blasted thing would have rendered this whole feat impossible, and with the excitement of something new bubbling in your chest the way it was, that would have been incredibly disappointing.
Your ears swivel forward in your new found attentiveness, eyes straining to see what you were doing behind the helmet you still wore. Wait why was it on in the first place? Actually, now that it's brought to your attention, maybe you should take that off...Yeah. Huffing in slight frustration you almost rip the protective gear from your head, and it catches on one of your horns enough to send a spark of pain in your skull, eliciting an unhappy chitter. Wow maybe you need to calm down a little, take this a bit slower there speedy.
Sucking in a deep breath from your nose, you let it out slowly from your mouth, eyes slipping close for a moment before you open them again. Then you repeat.
There. Much better. Now a little more at ease, you continue to run your hand right above and around the slit on your crotch from under your pants, occasionally delving a digit or two into the fissure. You hiss, your split tongue flicking over your lips as you lay your head back against the computer chair you remained sitting in. The sensitive area quickly responds to your fingers, twitching under your touch as your heartbeat rises in tempo once again, though for a much different reason. Your groin twists, and in their sheath you can feel your two, slender bulges stir, the skin around them flushing a soft yellow and spreading slightly to where you can begin to make out the tips of them emerging.
Gentle claws then reach down and touch at them, wrapping the dark yellowish grey appendages around your hand to stroke and finger at them into more of an aroused state. Which with your eagerness and fervor, was not hard at all. Within a few minutes of play the two tentacles are a writhing, weeping mess of yellow on your stomach and thighs, as well as your hands that were now soaked in your lubricating fluid, a slick translucent cream. Full size, they were about a foot in length each, an impressive length you think. Enough to be uncomfortable under the rough fabric under your sweats that are now quickly being shed off to pool around your ankles.
Soft murmurs and sighs elicit from your lips, brows furrowed in concentration as appendages twist and twine for a more practical hold, forming one much larger together instead of two. To be honest it was way easier to get yourself off this way, taking two times less the effort than using one hand for each.
The pads of your paws come up to press against the edge of the desk, curling your spine into a crescent shape and aiming your dicks almost directly in front of your slightly parted lips, so much your pants of breath ghost against them. You don't do much more than that for preparation just yet, content on just fondling yourself for a few more moments until you got bored and/or needed more friction. Until then, your hands work quickly, the soft underside of your fingers dipping into the small grooves that expelled the liquid practically dripping from your bulges. It added to the pleasure, soft moans and whines becoming more urgent as you brought yourself closer and closer...Really you just couldn't keep your mouth shut at this point.
It takes you a while to remember what your intention of this all was to begin with. You were supposed to do more...actually suck on them. Afterall that was what started this. Cracking open your blank, white eyes, you suddenly become embarrassed. Why, who knows. You were completely fucking alone, not a soul in sight. Just you, yourself, and your two bulges. But for some reason you were still hesitant. Maybe because it was so taboo, something that might have been considered 'weird'. Eh.
What the hell. Why not actually go through with it? A mental shrug of the shoulders and you're confident enough to proceed. You reluctantly part your mouth a little more to analytically lick the tips, and instantly you pull back a few inches to make a face. The taste wasn't necessarily bad, more bittersweet than anything, confusing almost. You needed to get used to it, and you would eventually but for now you needed to just get on with it.
Your hands grasp the bases, 'straightening' them enough to where they're relatively still. They still twitch slightly, not perfectly unmoving but when are you ever not moving yourself? Never? Exactly.
Opening your mouth once again, you allow them to actually slip inside and past your lips, going in as far as you could manage to bend your body. The rest that you couldn't exactly fit, you rubbed with your hands, and soon you were bobbing your head in tune with your firm crasses. It felt surprisingly good, better than with your hands alone. You should have expected it, and you sort of did, but not like this. The way your short teeth grazed the slick sides juuuust a little, the way you could press your tongue to the undersides and add just that much more pressure. And fuck it was so much hotter than your hands, so much more tight and arousing that it was almost too much for your overactive body to handle. But what was the biggest turn on, you think, was that you were in control. You knew what you liked and wanted, and you could hit just the right spots.
You only last a few more minutes before you find your stomach pooling and twisting with that creeping sensation akin to molten lava, and you manage to get in a few more sucks and licks before you need to pull away to avoid the quick snap of your hips when you're quickly and suddenly cumming. Your head lulls to the side as you cry out, your hands continuing to stroke as thick ribbons of yellow genetics shoot across your chest and stomach, down your shafts and coating your hands.
It takes a while for you to stop, for the tremors and aftershocks of orgasm to cease. But when it does, you're left quite satisfied and pleased with yourself, a wide, snarky grin replacing your previous expression. Despite the mess you'd have to clean up, that was way worth it.
You'd have to thank the seadweller later.
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