[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/geb1ns/my_quarantine_survival_guide_part_1_reenter_riley/) is here, for those that want repeat exposition. We pick up a couple days later down the hall from my apartment…
“No, I don’t have a jockstrap.” Brian was fuming.
“Of course I have a jockstrap. Everyone does.” Benny replied innocently as he coasted past the blue-shell shocked Yoshi, guiding Princess Rosalina’s Kart to victory.
I coasted past Brian too, launching a salvo of irrelevant green shells past the finish line as I went. “Well, I thought I did, but I haven’t seen it in years. No telling where it’s gone.”
“Fucking Mario Kart is stupid. We should go back to Smash.” Brian made a move to toss the controller, thought better of it, and slouched down to start the next race.
“Honey, not in front of the company.” Benny deadpanned, clearly pleased with himself.
“Fuck off.” Brian tossed his controller onto the oversized ottoman and stalked off toward the bathroom, abandoning his racer at the starting line as Benny and I sped forth.
Plus or minus a few annoyed outbursts, which had been progressing in recent days, this was our morning ritual. It had been the brainchild of Brian the Shortfused. It was important, he had reasoned, to have something to do during quarantine, some semblance of structure. So, while we used to have games periodically at night, it was now on a set schedule. Nine in the morning, get up, come play for an hour or so. I’m not saying we were any paragon of productivity, but compared to people still on their phones in bed at 10 am, we were looking pretty good.
Brian’s current living situation was also clearly starting to wear on him.
He was living in his girlfriend Kylie’s room. She was living in his single apartment. Kylie was a Physician’s Assistant student, and scarier than most people’s journeys through the plaugelands, she had had honest, real exposure and gotten the novel coronavirus. It may have been her case that got the school to shut down all their clinical rotations. This was doubly bad for Kylie – not only did she have the virus, but her graduation still might get delayed like everyone else. As with many things, it was up in the air, with decision makers reassessing on a day-to-day basis.
She never had anything more than standard cold symptoms, and was at the tail end of it in the smaller single that was nominally in Brian’s name. After her symptoms stopped, she was still going to have to take her temperature four times a day and keep careful records, before a nurse practitioner would let her get on with her life via a video “visit”.
In the meantime, Brian was stuck with Benny.
I liked them both, and in a lot of other contexts, I think they would have gotten along fine. But it’s a lot to ask. Benny had been Kylie’s roommate, and had been living pretty large, as she was down the hall much of the time. Now he was stuck with the boyfriend. Brian is a friend, but he’s made from brittle steel, and I think that living with him would be a challenge for a lot of people. Clearly, it was grating on their nerves. It showed more plainly in Brian’s behavior. Benny channeled it into an unnatural cheery positivity that annoyed Brian all the more.
“I know what your problem is.” Benny started a common refrain.
“That I’m not racing.”
“Nope. You need to get laid. Poor guy, locked away from his girl. It’s sad, isn’t it, Rob?”
I replied disinterestedly, not wanting to get caught in the middle.
“Rob, his seminal vesicles could burst!” Benny chanced a glance away from the screen as Brian rolled his eyes. Benny had been in that same anatomy class. I hadn’t known him at the time, but he was referring to the reservoir of semen in the lower pelvis (not solely within the testes themselves, as common knowledge would suggest).
Brian glowered. “What about your central vesicles? It’s not like you’re getting a ton of action in the quarantine.”
“Alas, you’re right.” Benny sighed. “But my people have it twice as easy – I’ve got more apps to choose from on my phone.” Benny had asserted his bisexuality the day before to Brian – he had been hitherto known to be gay. It had likely been a half-truth spun by Kylie to minimize the potential stressors on their early relationship.
“Bullshit, male bisexuals are fleetingly rare,” Brian asserted. “I mean, it depends how you define it.”
Brian had taken the harder position that not only did he know better than Benny about Benny’s sexuality, but that his entire posited mode of attraction did not exist. I thought this was a weak line of argument, but focused on maintaining my lead, the argument more effective in my favor than a red shell.
“Well, I guess I’m a fucking unicorn then.”
“See, that analogy actually makes my point.”
Everyone focused on a particularly difficult stretch of a classic course.
“What girl have you even fucked?” Brian couldn’t resist.
“I’m not sure I should tell.” Benny paused and made sure he had Brian’s attention. “I mean it was like… months ago. August.” He smiled.
“Oh, convenient. The last girl you fucked was right before I hooked up with Kylie. In September. So I wasn’t around, so there’s no way I’ll know. Pretty fucking crazy coincidence, don’t you think, Rob?”
I executed a perfect power slide and mushroomed to victory. “I win.”
“Maybe not such a coincidence.” Benny was pulling around the same corner. “Maybe it was directly related.”
Brian was focused on the race. “What do you mean by that?” He took a minute to process it. “Wait.” He put down the controller, “What do you mean by that. Not Kylie.”
Benny scrunched up his face and nodded. “Like, the week after she moved in.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Benny sighed. “Kylie has a port wine stain on her left buttcheek.”
I suppose there are a lot of potential ways that Benny could have known that would have been in keeping with the ‘gay roommate’ mythos. Maybe she had shown it to him. Maybe she had said something about it. They were both in healthcare fields, so it could have come up in conversation. Brian’s face reddened as he either dismissed or failed to consider those options.
“Bullshit.” Brian picked up the controller and set it down again immediately. “Bullshit.” He grabbed his phone. I surreptitiously watched out of the corner of my eye.
>”Did you fuck Benny.”
Kylie’s reply came almost immediately. A quarantine cluster of one is a boring place.
“Everyone fucks Benny.”
>”No, seriously.”
The ellipses came, and went, and came again, then disappeared for good. I scratched my forehead as Brian looked around to cover my poor eavesdropping. His phone rang and he stormed out of the room. Brian had lost his second consecutive race to forfeit.
“I think I might go.” I stood.
“Yeah, probably time to get on with the day.” Benny stretched his arms. “You going to go work out?”
“Yep, gotta get one in before lunch.” I nodded. It was an important part of surviving a quarantine. Rule two – find a way to keep fit. Extra points for creativity because there probably won’t be a gym. “Everything going to be alright here?”
Benny exhaled. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “He’ll go to his corner, I’ll go to mine, we’ll come back to a kind of equilibrium. You want to come play *Diablo* this afternoon? Your presence helps… dilute things.”
For the record, local multiplayer is a godsend in the era of quarantine. “Sure, I’m down.”
With that I was up to the third floor. I gave a knock and pushed Riley’s door open. She was on the floor in yoga pants and a sports bra.
“Seventy-one,” she grunted, as she raised herself in a flexed knee girl-pushup with mocked exhaustion.
“How’d you know when I was coming in?” I looked at her. We’d been doing this for three mornings in a row now since the initial contact. Each time, she was somehow “midway” through a new exercise.
Riley scrunched up her face, winked an eye and sucked air through her locked teeth. This was Riley language, an expression that can mean many things depending on context. But in this case, it was clear: “I am betrayed.”
I looked around the room. Couch, coffee table, TV arbitrarily showing some Netflix reality TV. Aha. Coffee cup on the windowsill. Half full (dash of milk, no sugar), steam still coming up. I walked over to the window and let out a low whistle.
“Shit, their window is right across the courtyard. You can see right down in there.”
“Yeah.” Riley popped up and retrieved her coffee, leaning into me. “I never put it together, but they used to have these purple blackout curtains. But you mentioned that Kylie took them down the hall so she could sleep during the day. Bro-time is exposed to the world.” She turned to me. “Speaking of, where’s my motivation?”
I ran my hand under the lower hem of her sports bra and sighed, taking off my shirt and sweatpants. “Sorry, no jock strap. You’ll have to settle for boxer briefs.”
“I fucking hate this quarantine. Can’t get anything good.”
This was our ‘motivation’ to work out: it was done in minimal clothing. There are certain articles of workout clothing that are necessary, in a real workout, to ensure that one’s dangly bits don’t become uncomfortable repeating the same series of motions *ad nauseum*. Particularly, a guy’s gotta lock down the scrotum, and most women, depending on build, are going to want a sportsbra to hold the girls in. Maybe you need something to protect your hands or feet or teeth or head, depending on what you’re doing. But that’s about it. Everything else is superfluous and worse, gets in the way and overheats you. And also shrouds your motivation.
Otherwise, our workouts were real. At least for the first forty minutes. I told her about the latest friction between the accidental roommates downstairs between ever more breathless sets of push ups, sit ups, and plyometrics.
“Last burpees!” Riley called, and I finished, wiping the sweat from my forehead. There are things you can’t do without equipment, but no fancy equipment is necessary for the things you need to do to maintain a level of fitness that’s far above average.
“I need a shower. Help me pick some toys?” She grabbed my hand, thought better of it, and grabbed my crotch before leading the way to the room that had formerly been used by her roommate for sleep.
It was now a sex toy armory.
The shower too, was real. The toys were our addition. Well, hers. As it was her turn to select, she went with a glass buttplug and a ridiculous opalescent dildo shaped like a monster penis.
“It’s a demogorgon, asshole, and they don’t have penises. I’m pretty sure it’s a… tendril.” Riley waved an opalescent tendril at me accusingly. “Maybe a seed pod.”
Rule three – nerds fuck better.
Riley started the shower as I considered the spread. There was a blue dinosaur – no, dragon – dick from yesterday. There were a variety of other fantasy-themed creations “…and some much more pedestrian,” I thought as I gave a black horse dick a trial wiggle in the air. She definitely had a type. That said, the collection was silicone and glass, well made, and unlikely to leak ridiculous plastic chemicals through one’s mucous membranes. Plague or no plague, don’t poison yourself with sex toys. I’m not sure that rises to the level of a real aphorism.
I had been reminded on our first attempt three days prior that Riley’s propensity to steal all the blankets extends to hogging all the hot water coming out of a showerhead. It’s actually jiu-jitsu, I’m pretty sure. You don’t realize she’s maneuvered you completely out of the spray until it’s too late. Importantly though, this only applies if she’s cold. If she has five minutes to warm up her body and steam up the bathroom, she will share. So I give her a five minute head start.
The cleaning part of the shower is real, but comprises only about 10% of our time in there.
“Bring lube!” I grabbed the bottle off what had been formerly been an innocent nightstand. I stripped off my underwear and stepped into the shower, placing the bottle on the shelf. “This gives a really nice stretch, but I can’t knot it,” Riley pulled the tendril or seed pod out of her pussy. “I need your fingers.”
I knelt down, letting the warm spray wash over the back of my head as Riley put a leg up on the edge of the bathtub, a wild spray of wet hair coquettishly stuck to her forehead. I lubed up my fingers and quickly inserted the first two.
“You’re leaving the plug in? Interesting.” I looked up at her, feigning amazement as I tapped the base of the plug in her ass.
“For now,” she smiled, and then let her head fall back as I pushed the third lubed finger into her pussy.
Stretching, as part of a workout, is real. This is not usually what people have in mind. Riley was determined that I should fist her after our night in my bed. If she’s being diplomatic, she says I have the right hands for it. If not, “dainty fingers.” Personally, I think of them more as pianist’s hands, and told her so, but the point stands. I do not have the fingers of a bricklayer.
“I don’t want to hear about your thick girthy pianist right now.” Riley arched her back. “Hold on, I need this out.” I felt the density shift as she worked the buttplug out, stretching her asshole open and letting the bulbous head snap out of her rear hole, a trickle of clear lube following it. “Ungh.” She grunted.
In a deft motion, Riley swapped the plug for lube, drizzling a stream down onto my waiting hand as I inserted the fourth finger and wrapped my thumb inside.
“Fucking hell.” She panted. “That’s good, talk dirty to me.”
“That’s a good girl.” I looked up at her. Riley’s eyes were shut tight in concentration. “My good slut needs to have her cunt used like this, doesn’t she?”
“Yessss.” Riley hissed, shifting her weight and moving my fingers a fraction of an inch deeper. “Ooh. Wait, gentle.”
I eased off the pressure a little bit, gently caressing her flank with my other hand. “Again?”
“One more try.”
The first four lubed fingers went in easily and I pumped them up and down a bit, feeling her juices mix with the lube on my hand. Riley reached her hands down and worked her clit in tight circles as she simultaneously spread her labia with the other hand. I corkscrewed my hand gently one way and then the other with each of her little bounces, feeling her pussy stretch as I worked it in to the knuckles, then watched them disappear, little animal grunts coming from Riley with each bounce. Lube ran down her clit, slathered all over her pussy and legs, and covered my hand and forearm, running down to my elbow.
“Take it, you dirty bitch.”
“Yes, I fucking want it so bad, stretch my little pussy.”
My hand was in at its widest part and I continued bouncing gently, trying to talk her down another fraction of a centimeter.
“That’s right baby, push your pussy open, take my fist inside like a good girl.”
Riley pushed a few more times and then began furiously rubbing her clit. She came hard, like a cannon, and pushed my hand out.
“Holy fuck!” She leaned on the wall and took a few minutes to catch her breath. “How far was that?”
I showed her on my hand where the texture of the lube changed, and she gave my hand a thankful lick. “Close.”
I nodded.
“Alright, pick up the soap. No free rides.” Riley rinsed the plug in the water and went for the lube.
I bent over a bit, placing my foot where hers had been, facing the wall. I felt her lubed finger over my ass and the tip of the buttplug push inside. With an exhale, relaxing my jaw, I shifted my weight back to meet it stretching my ass and quickly locking the plug in at the base. Riley gave me a pat on the ass cheek. “One good turn deserves another.” She spun and presented her ass.
I’d fucked her the first day without the plug, but I liked having it. For one, my cock was dripping precum, which Riley loved, the effect of pressure on my prostate (and I guess on my seminal vesicles). But two, having this plug come directly out of her ass and go into mine… it’s a feeling that we can directly share. At least, as close to it as we’re going to get. There’s not a lot of that in heterosexual sex. I have no idea what it must feel like for her to rub her clit to orgasm while I fill her vagina with my hand. No idea and no way to ever have an idea. But I have some idea what the pressure feels like in her deep pelvis with this plug in my ass. It makes me a better sex partner. And if it feels good to me (which it did, once it was in), so much the better.
Her asshole gaped the tiniest bit as I moved into position, the smooth muscle of her rear sphincter trying to recreate the memory of the fiber of every last position when it was stretched around the glass of the plug – the very plug that was currently violating my rear hole, stretching my anus into a relaxed configuration. I dripped some lube down the length of my shaft, erring as always on the side of too much, and positioned my glans at the entrance of Riley’s ass.
She pushed back and I watched a rivulet of water cascade down her back. Sex tip number next for the less experienced out there: anal sex is optimal for the shower. Full stop. Don’t get me wrong, the shower is basically my favorite room in the house. I love the water, always have. It’s cleaning, it’s relaxing, it’s great. But there are serious downsides for the normal methods of heterosexual fucking. Penis in vagina sex does not work well. First, if the woman is significantly shorter than the guy, as is the case in many couples, it’s going to be hard to even line up the strokes. Riley and I don’t have that problem, as we’re both a bit taller than average, which gives a lot of options as far as setting feet further apart to get the height right. But I never could have done this with the more petite Becca, for example. Two, and worse, pure water destroys or washes away vaginal secretions quickly and just about all exogenous lube, albeit slightly slower. So either you fuck out of the water (which is cold and miserable) or you have no lube (which is just miserable).
Blowjobs can work. You’ll find quickly that the person giving the blowjob is going to be in an uncomfortable crouch while the blow-ee takes all the water to shield them to avoid getting waterboarded, but it can work. It’s probably even worse for eating a girl out in the shower due to subtle differences in height and angle, but it can work.
But anal rocks. You need to bring lube anyway. Check. It’s a tighter hole surrounded by buttcheeks, keeping it way more sheltered from the water than a vagina. Awesome. And the main downsides to anal, mainly the mess and the need for prep, are easily accomplished in the shower or shortly before. Check-fucking-mate.
Riley leaned back, taking my length deep into her rectum. “Mmmph. I needed that, I felt so empty.”
“Fuck yes.” I brought a hand up to her wet breast as she gently lifted her pelvis up and down, teasing my cock with shifting pressure points.
“Grab my neck.” Riley arched her back and I put gentle pressure on either side of her trachea. “Yes.” I grunted and she continued her dirty talk. “Fucking pin me exactly where you need me, daddy, give me that cock deep in my ass-cunt.” My cock pistoned in and out of her ass, squelching out a perverse rhythm. “I need you to teach my ass with your cock. I need cock inside me. More. More!”
She rocked back against me and I snuck a look down at her hand. It was making an ‘okay’ sign. A slap on her own thigh meant ‘too rough’. The hand signs took precedence, one of her kinks, but there were safewords too. She had a fake safeword, (‘banana’) and a real safeword, (‘hootenanny’). This was all new, the more evolved Riley.
But I liked it.
I growled in her ear. “You’re going to take that cock, and do you know why, slut?” I put a little more pressure on her neck and got a little cry of pleasure.
“No,” she whimpered.
“Because you’re just a fuckdoll for me to use. I’m going to batter your little asshole because that’s what you need.”
“Yes, please,” Riley whimpered.
“You’re going to take it…” still okay sign, “and I’m going to force your safeword out of you. You know what that means, don’t you, slut?” I shifted my weight and brought my other hand around to slap her pussy, the shot ringing out like a whip in the echo chamber of the shower.
“Unngh.” Riley grunted, I’m not sure how pretended. Her hand was still okay, but she was clearly slipping into subspace somewhere.
I slapped her pussy again and pinched her nipple, keeping steady pressure on her neck. “You want more?”
“Yes… please…” Riley’s voice echoed out.
“Please what?” I momentarily stopped thrusting.
She moaned in primal frustration. “Please, fucking give me that-“ I thrust into her, quickening my pace. “Please give me your cock and- arrgh!” I pinched her nipple. “Give me your huge cock and wreck my asshole please. Please, I’m just your slut, ungh, slobbering holes waiting to be filled with your- uhngh- cum!”
“Louder.” I pinched harder.
“Banana!”
“Not so fast,” I sent a spray of water into the wall with a hard thrust and then slapped her pussy. “Beg me, slut.” I confirmed her hand still said ‘okay’. “You know the only way out of this,” I squeezed harder on her neck, ”is to fuck your way out.”
“Fuck yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” her hand rifled down to her pussy and she shifted her weight forward, using the hand on her neck to keep her balance. “Use me, please daddy, give it to your slut. I’m your slut and I need it. Fuck yes, spill your seed in my ruined asshole. More!”
I bit her shoulder lightly and sucked shower water into my mouth off her skin as I came hard and felt her hips buckle too, either another orgasm or damn close to it. We crumpled down onto the floor, the water collecting in the bottom the tub, my leg partially blocking the drain. Riley rested with her head against my chest, I gently stroked her flank from her shoulder to hip in long, languid motions as the water poured over us.
“Did you leave a mark?” She looked up at me. I peered down at her shoulder.
“Nope, it’s maybe just a little bit red.”
“Well, maybe next time.” Riley kissed me. After a moment, we stood, I gingerly pulled the plug, and did a final rinse of ourselves and the toys, and then shut the shower off and toweled dry. If you’re considering apartment living make sure there are industrial hot water heaters that can service the shower, the largest sex toy in your bathroom, for the better part of an hour.
We dressed and had a light lunch, relaxing on the couch with Riley reclined on my chest, a blanket pulled over both of us.
“I told the guys I’d come back to play some more this afternoon.”
“That sounds good. I need a nap anyway.” Riley yawned and extended her arms in a feline stretch. “Knock on Kylie’s door and make sure she doesn’t need anything, okay?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” I nodded and walked to the door. We had a workable system with a dropbox outside the door where we could put things and Kylie could bring them in, a container of bleach wipes set alongside.
“Oh, and Rob?”
“Yeah.”
“Grab a condom from the drawer there.” I opened it and sure enough. Riley continued, “Just… leave it on the windowsill in 202. You don’t need to say anything.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her.
Riley shrugged. “I have an academic interest.”
Thanks for the kind comments – it really lifts the spirit that someone is out there enjoying my ‘prevent quarantine insanity project’. I’m thinking there are 2-3 more parts left to write. I’m aiming to drop Part 3 by next weekend. Stay healthy, pervs!
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ggmr2f/my_quarantine_survival_guide_part_2_but_buddy_mf