Bitch or Vixen
"Haa…. It's just fantasy… Fuck, the post-nut clarity is hitting hard….."
The comedown really was brutal.
I shouldn't be jerking off into some goddamn onahole. I should be burying myself in a real woman's pussy, degrading her, pumping her full of my seed…
That's how it ought to be….
But I didn't have a girlfriend right now. No one I could even call a partner.
I'd been alone for a long time.
"Ugh… Might as well shower."
Muttering under my breath, I left the room, stripped everything off, and walked naked into the bathroom.
Creak.
Fsssshhhhh.
"Hoo…!"
The moment I turned the shower on, hot water hit my skin and warmth flooded through me. It felt so good I could have melted right there.
I scrubbed every last bit of lube and onahole residue off my cock, finished the shower, and stepped back out.
"Hooo."
A satisfied sound slipped out of me on its own — body clean, head a little clearer.
I went into my room, dug a pair of briefs out of the closet, and pulled them on. Nothing else. Just the underwear. Then I sat back down in front of the computer.
Still up on the screen was the Blow page of the Sect girl I'd been watching a minute ago.
"Haa… Nabi, you fucking slut. You really do get me hard as hell."
Nabi.
That was the profile name of the Sect account whose sex videos I'd just been jerking off to.
In the Sect scene, Nabi was something of a celebrity. A hundred thousand followers — what people crudely called a major corporation. High follower counts were normal in Sect, sure, but a hundred thousand put you in the top one percent.
Most accounts like that only thrived in the shadows. Nabi was different. She was known even in the sunnier corners of the internet, whispered about here and there.
There were plenty of reasons she was that famous, but first and foremost: her body was absurdly fuckable.
In Sect, physique was the biggest draw by far. A body that made you hard was something no one could resist. But a good body alone didn't buy you that kind of popularity.
Across the board, Nabi's Sect videos ran hot. That particular moan of hers, that filthy cry — it could drag arousal out of a man who hadn't felt any. And some of the clips went further still: crude, shameless play. Watching a few of the rougher ones, you got the sense she had a real streak of SM in her. There were plenty of videos of her tormenting her own body and pussy with all kinds of toys — fairy vibrators, dildos, the works.
From a guy's point of view, you could close your eyes and recite the Heart Sutra trying to hold it together, and the sound alone would still get you rock hard…
Maybe I was laying it on a little thick. But yeah — Nabi's videos were that fucking good.
Ever since I'd followed her on Blow, the number of times I jerked off to her instead of regular porn had gone up. No — more accurately, she'd replaced porn entirely.
Of course she had a hundred thousand followers. How could she not?
I sat there and started slowly scrolling through the Blow posts on her page.
"She's posted a lot…"
The words came out of me without thinking. Not snide — genuine surprise.
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.
I rolled the mouse wheel and scrolled through her tweets, the ones with photos. Every post was packed with filthy captions, and every one of them came with pictures — tits and pussy fully on display. Some were nothing but extreme close-ups of her cunt. You could even see the sticky sheen where her juices had run down in thick trails.
"Jesus… this bitch is a real… just a perverted little fox, isn't she… Or a bitch in heat… a fucking freak…"
The curse came out half admiration.
Nabi's tweets were crude, but underneath them you could feel a kind of taunt aimed at her followers. Something like:
You losers just sit there staring at me on a screen and jerk off, you pathetic bastards~ Meanwhile I'm out getting fucked, getting my pussy stuffed all over town~
She never wrote anything that openly mocked or baited anyone. But somehow that feeling kept bleeding through.
"She tweets like that — but if she actually met someone, would she spread her legs?"
I wondered.
What if she really did come face to face with someone who'd been jerking off to her posts…?
Hey. You.
Y-yes???
You're her, right? Nabi. Don't even try.
….What???
I played it out in my head, but realistically it made no sense. In the little fantasy I'd spun, Nabi just stood there flustered, asking the other person what they meant. Even a pervert down to the bone wasn't going to casually spread her pussy for a stranger.
"Yeah… it doesn't make any sense…"
The words came out on their own. Of course it didn't. Common sense said as much.
"And… what if she's a catfish?"
Another mutter, unbidden.
I'd never seen Nabi's face. Among her posts there was definitely one where she'd written her username on a scrap of paper and framed it in the same shot as her pussy and tits. But if someone was determined to fake it, that was easy enough to fake. In the end, whether she was a real woman or some guy catfishing behind a screen — nobody knew until they met her.
"Ugh…."
The fantasy ran its course, tore through my head, and then reality slammed back in. The post-nut emptiness hit like a truck. A sigh followed right behind it, whether I wanted one or not.
"Fuck… I want it so bad…"
The curse just spilled out. How good would it feel, doing it with a freak like that…? If I ran into her by chance… what then…?
"Ah, fuck it…"
Another curse, another sigh, at my own ridiculous delusion.
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.
I muttered to myself and kept rolling the wheel.
….Huh?
Scrolling through her Blow feed, I stopped on pure instinct. I'd been about to keep going, mindless and mechanical — but something made me freeze.
An openly provocative post.
"Holy shit… is this bitch insane…."
Another curse, pure genuine awe.
It wasn't just text. There was a video attached.
Click.
I hit play.
Squelch.. squelch.. squelch.. squelch.. squelch..
Haa… haa… haa… haaaa….
The video loaded: Nabi slamming a dildo into her own pussy without mercy, moaning like a whore while she masturbated. The wet, sticky sound pouring out of the computer speakers was her juices being crushed and forced out around the toy. Over that came her filthy little gasps.
Squelch.. squelch.. squelch.. squelch.. squelch..
Haa… haa… haa… haaaa….
She gripped the base of a clear glass dildo and drove it in fast, like she meant to split herself wide open. The camera closed in hard on her cunt, and you could see her labia stretched into a perfect oval, raw and fully exposed. She hammered that transparent glass cock into herself without restraint, violent enough to force her pussy open. She'd been at it so hard her juices were being shoved out from inside, soaking her folds until they glistened. The crushed fluid had gone milky white, almost like semen — enough to make you think she'd just taken a creampie.
The angle was a dead-on close-up of her pussy. You could even glimpse the inside of her vagina through the spread. When she drove the dildo deeper, the view distorted, but for a second you could almost make out her cervix.
"Haa… fuck…"
Another sigh, automatic.
The way she masturbated was too goddamn hot. A body that fuckable, a bitch with a filthy nature doing perverted shit on camera — you couldn't hold instinct down watching that. Any man would be the same.
The lust that had gone quiet after I'd come started climbing again. I'd just finished, but my cock was already sending signals, hungry for a woman's pussy one more time. It rose the way clam meat swells — slow, then hard. The stiffening shaft peeled its own foreskin back and the swollen head bloomed open like a flower.
My hand went to the onahole on the desk on its own. The same one I'd just cleaned, the one I'd filled imagining I was breeding Nabi's cunt.
I picked it up. With the other hand I grabbed the lube off the desk and smeared it over my swollen head. Then I eased the onahole down over the slick tip, pushing it deeper — over the foreskin, down the shaft — slow, all the way.
"Haaa…!"
The lube coated my whole cock, wet and sticky.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
Haa… haa… cock… cockkk… ahhnn….♥
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
"Hua.. hhuk… hoo…. huuuh…!!"
From the computer and from reality at the same time — the wet sounds, the filthy moans. My own voice in the room. Nabi's voice through the speakers. They mixed together.
We were each working our own toys, separate, alone. But I fell into the delusion that I was the one fucking her.