In my humble fucking opinion

Pokemon Erotica (Part I)

The road to Saffron City was long and hard. Misty knew this better than most. She had found herself constantly adrift in a sea of pokemon, sex, pokemon, sex, and was beginning to go under. Lucky for her she was mistress of the ocean and could beckon star shaped pokemon Starmie to her aid. Often finding herself cooling her burning labia with a concentrated cleanse from his ever gushing water gun. Gone were the days of sulking in her room buried half a vagina deep into Starmie’s top spike, she was finally with two men, two powerful and presentable men, Brock and Ash. In Ash she saw a deep power still hidden in the body of a boy, while with Brock a brooding secret holder, choosing to act with huge Onix rather than his powerful hands. Hands that had held hers only nights before as he drunkenly rubbed his flaccid cock against the worn denim material of her jean shorts. She sucked on his finger as it curled like an ekans in her mouth, promises of cum torrents wet her ears, and he fingered her suspender strap with his free hand. Sadly that’s a s far as his curious digits explored, passing out abruptly into the still of the night as a Noctowl perched, glowing eyes and all at the fizzling sexual fireworks that ended in the abrupt and violent outbursts of Brock’s persistent snoring. That had been days ago, the trio had walked in closely quite comfort, never saying, but thinking heavy thoughts that made Misty wet against the beads of sweat parading down the front of her short yellow tee pooling in her tightly wound panties, grimy with age and frustration.

Lost in thought about Misty Ash noticed his cock grow strangely hard. It wasn’t the first time he had experienced an erection. Once when he was playing in the woods near his home he had spied two Pidgeys furiously beating at one another with rampant wings, their feathers molting and blanketing the ground. As the birds rolled, squawking at one another, he had found his hands gripping at his swollen phallus, extinguishing his burning seed into the soft underbrush of Eterna forest.
He and Misty had met by mistake, a bike accident, more fate than misfortune. She had tagged along out of determined claims of retribution, but the way she looked away blushing when their eyes would meet spoke the words she never could. When he closed his eyes he sometimes thought nothing of badges, or of pokemon glory. No. His mind toyed with the pure pleasure of pulling Misty down onto his quivering cock, perched right above its swollen head, toying with its entrance. Her eyes, obscenely large, terrified as gravity worked against her struggling muscles and she succumbed to cum. That was fantasy, he had set out with a heart full of good intentions and despite his numerous misadventures he didn’t want his gentle cargo to crack and tumble from his human sheath, he didn’t need the sharp dagger of love to penetrate his resolution, he elected to watch. Spying the more matured Brock fumble with Misty’s soft, giving flesh. Wishing that as Misty had sucked the fingerprints from his hands that he, Ash, could be every one of those fingers.

The trio marched mechanically into the dimming sky as night fell heavy on their backs. Each adventurer lost in their heads as their feet did the finding. Daydreams spoiled! Team Rocket appeared with a flash, descending from the quivering blackness in a cat shaped balloon. Jesse, James, Meowth, that’s right. The two teams faced each other quietly, there were no words that hadn’t been spoken, no pain that hadn’t been felt. Repetition had played this stage every night, and as the actors took their tired places they felt marionette strings jerk their limbs into routine position. Unbeknownst to Ash, Misty, Brock, Jesse, and Meowth James had taken ground up Ryhorn horn into his nose and was concealing a throbbing growth under his ‘R’ belt buckle. In typical spaghetti western style the opposing forces faced one another, protagonist vs. antagonist, yin vs. yang, and with a deafening battle cry they clashed. As the skilled combatants reached for the prison balls containing their gladiator animals, James reached for his yearning balls and threw them from his sequenced white pants. Ash’s eyes dropped from James’s bizarre haircut to the throbbing pillar of flesh that ran in an impact course collision with slow to the turn ass. Colliding in a frenzy of furious hands and tearing fabrics the other warriors paid no attention to the cries of one Ash Ketchum as James slid himself into the welcoming, nubile bottom of the young pokemon master. Pikachu stood aghast at screamed “pikapikapika,” at deaf ears. Too scared to shock James in fear of electrocuting Ash Pikachu sat humbled in the grass and closed its eyes to the horror unfolding in front of its apple red cheeks.

Ash found the pressure in his ass comforting as his struggles turned into steady movements that complemented the ancient dance James performed with rough but guiding ease. What were once struggling hand flailing movements turned into reassuring grips on James’s own mitts, comforting the older man with understanding caresses, adding complacency to his position.

Brock spying the assault on his acquaintance leaped on Jesse and wound her red locks into his penetrating talons. Letting out a bird like cry she fell to the ground, pulling Brock’s legs out from beneath him. The pair tumbled, searching for hand holds in the fabric of their loose clothing, soon their furious swipes turned into sensual clawing as Jesse held Brock’s semi limp dick in her mouth. Grating her teeth across its vein ridden surface Brock howled with two parts fear and equal parts arousal, his limp organ stiffening responsively. Gripping his firm sack in her fiercely manicured nails, she pulled on his small testicles, milking him like she had done with so many Miltanks back on her father’s farm. With traces of surprise on the corners of her mouth there was no heavy cream load to spit back into the collection bucket, Brock’s lone udder was a fighter. Submerging from the depths of her throat Brock’s vessel surfaced, jettisoning a load of pre-cum ballast onto Jesse’s arched lips. Almost as soon as it had come up for air was it back down once more, down into the warm, wet tunnel where tonsils lay in wait, probed gently by a solitary eye on a grinning purple head. Brock held Jesse’s mane tightly, his hand’s interwoven into her nappy red roots, pushing himself deeper into her face pussy as he felt her tiny palms scurry, crab like, up his moist shaft. Pumping his hot iron they ascended only to fall inches that felt like stories, rising once more and plummeting again quickly. His balls ached and prayed for a discharge. Swollen stones seemed to replace his once fleshy testicles, and ground between hungry palms they produced a heavenly ambrosia, a milk nectar, trumpeting from his fountain spout, and cascading in cream torrents deep into the vacuum of Jesse’s starving gullet. Letting out a maddening cry Brock tried to pull himself away from the suction but found his deflating prick being drained by a lashing tongue, slurping the trace remnants of baby fluid that hung loosely from a punctured hole, gasping cum breaths. Jesse swallowed every morsel of Brock’s mammoth salty load, and slapped the rubbery cock against her chin, shaking free a few drops still trapped in the shaft. Brock collapsed backwards onto the grass as Jesse stood, licking her ruby demon lips, watching as Meowth slowly advanced on terrified but unsatisfied Misty.

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