Cosplay [M22/F22] [con][sex] (3/3)

[Part 2](https://redd.it/102g3de)

11. *Yor*

He heard the shower turn on, and welcomed the extended break. He
wondered about his own hygiene, but at the moment there was little he
could do about that as he did not dare disrupt Seung-hee’s
performance. Her warning before leaving, however, had him a bit
concerned. Even though he knew it was part of the act, the way she
said it had an undeniable sense of urgency to it. He suddenly felt
vulnerable, and decided to put back on his boxers and his t-shirt. By
then the jet of water had ceased, and he waited, expectantly.

Minutes went by until he heard a click coming from the bathroom, the
light which had been leaking through the edges of the door frame
disappearing. He saw the entrance starting to open, slowly, a figure
enshrouded in darkness quietly emerging from the shadows.

“Where is Tsubaki Rurikawa?”

It was too dark to discern who was asking, the silhouette of a long,
black dress was all he could see. That and the glimmer of an edge
reflecting the dim light of the nightlamp next to him.

The figure took a decisive step forwards, revealing itself.

“I’ll ask just one more time, where is Tsubaki Rurikawa?”

Yor Forger, expert assassin, stood mere steps from him, menacingly,
her eyes piercing his. She held a dagger in her hand, a short Rondel
with a cylindrical handle and a blade of steel, pointed towards his
chest. There was not a doubt in his mind that this was not a prop, but
an actual, lethal weapon. The word “Fidelio” was on the tip of his
tongue, cognizant that he didn’t actually know Seung-hee all that
well.

“If you kill me you’ll never know, will you?” he replied, his voice
wavering ever so slightly.

She stood there for a moment, motionless, weighing her options. A wry
smile appeared on her lips, as she slowly sheathed the Rondel into the
scabbard hanging from her hip.

“I guess you too have a point,” she said, more amused than him by
the pun. “What ever should we do?”

While she pondered her next move he took the opportunity to scrutinize
this new opponent, the so-called Thorn Princess. She stood on tall,
black stilettos, stirrup stockings also in black tightly wound around
her thighs by an elastic mesh. The raven dress had a long tail which
revealed its red lining as it was shorter in the front, showing off
her legs. It was cinched at the waist, sheath on her hip, and held up
by straps connected to a complex mesh around her neck which exposed
her bare shoulders and upper back. A pair of black fingerless gloves
and a golden headband with roses above each ear completed the
look. Though a near-perfect doppelganger her jet-black hair was, as
with Tsubaki, still Seung-hee’s. It nonetheless suited her Yor, as did
her curvy body which filled the tight suit in all the right places,
including her ample cleavage.

“You have something I want and, judging by your lecherous gaze, I
have something you want,” she said, with a knowing smile. “A quid pro
quo perhaps?”

Slowly and deliberately, she first took off her shoes and then
proceeded to unzip the mesh around her neck, allowing the top to fall,
revealing the fact that not all the straps were part of the dress. As
she lowered the zipper on the side and pulled it down he was able to
finally see the black, full-body leather harness hugging her frame.
The criss-cross pattern of the straps lifted and exposed her breasts,
the bottom of the harness forming a pair of leather garters around her
thighs, the open-crotch design allowing full access to her sex and
shamelessly showing off her large clit. She took off her golden
headband, leaving it on the counter behind her, but kept the stockings
and the gloves.

She approached him, leaning into his body, cupping the bulge between
his legs through the fabric of his boxers, whispering into his ear.

“I’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before,” she said,
“and if afterwards you don’t tell me Rurikawa’s whereabouts I’ll fuck
you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

Grabbing hold of the hem of his t-shirt she lifted it up in one smooth
motion, throwing it aside. His boxers too were soon around his ankles,
leaving him impressed at how she managed to single-handedly navigate
the waistband over his erection.

She gave him an aggressive, ravenous kiss on the mouth, pulling down
on his head with both hands, smashing her lips against his, her tongue
swirling around inside, biting, licking, sucking. He responded by
running his hands across her back, pulling the straps. She was glued
to him, his body sandwiched between hers and the bed behind him. She
lifted her right leg up against his thigh and planted her foot on top
of the mattress, offering her slit and pushing her hips forwards,
engulfing his stiff member. She began to buck against him, fucking him
as she continued to devour his mouth.

He decided to take the initiative, hooking his arms under her legs,
lifting her up. Still impaled, she continued kissing him as she rode
his cock, paying no heed to his precarious stance. He began to walk
across the room, her legs now tightly wrapped around his waist,
stumbling the last couple of steps until her back leaned against the
wall. The newfound leverage allowed him to push up against her, making
her bounce up and down with each of their violent thrusts.

“Fuck!” he screamed, as she broke their kiss and bit into his
shoulder, very nearly drawing blood. In response he smashed her back
against the wall, making her grimace, a painful grunt escaping her
lips. She dug her nails into his back, again biting into his
shoulder, to which he responded with another charge against the wall,
rocking her entire body. Weakened by this counterattack she eased her
hold and he violently turned around, flinging her towards the bed.

She fell on her feet, stumbling backwards unto the mattress. He stood
there, dumbfounded, as she glared back at him, her expression defiant,
animalistic. She leaned back, her feet on the edge of the bed, and
opened her knees wide, exposing her slimy pussy, her engorged labia,
her ferocious clit.

He was on her in a second, ramming his cock into her cunt as he pinned
her down by the wrists, pistoning into her with abandon.

“Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!” he groaned with every jab, his body drenched in
sweat due to the enormous effort he was making.

“Fuck me! Come, on, that’s it, fuck me hard!” she yelled, urging
him on.

“Gonna… spurt…” he groaned, losing control.

“Seed me, come in my pussy!”

He arched his back, managing one last thrust, legs trembling, rigid,
toes pressed against the carpet, pushing as hard as he could into her
while a fountain of jizz exploded from the tip of his cock, spraying
her insides.

She suddenly lifted her feet and planted one each on his
shoulders. His orgasm hadn’t fully subsided yet and the move caught
him by surprise as she gave him a violent push, sending him reeling
backwards. He fell to the floor, on his ass, dazed.

Before he could recover she was already straddling him, forcing him
into her, her nails digging into his chest. The continuing stimulation
of his dick was painful and he grabbed her wrists, ready to wrestle
her off him, but as she started to aggressively ride him he began to
respond, the muscles in her vagina clenching and churning and
suffocating his cock.

“Augh! Augh! Augh!”

It was now she who was screaming with every thrust, desperately
seeking her own orgasm. She suddenly squealed, her body tensing as she
forcefully ground her cunt and her clit against him.

“My… pussy… is… comiiiinghhhh”, she growled, leaning
forwards, biting hard into his chest, making him grit his teeth in
pain.

She fell on top of him, their piled bodies a heaving, panting, sweaty
mass of flesh, a mix of vaginal secretions and semen streaming down
from where they were still connected, oozing down his balls and
dripping on the carpet, a large stain forming underneath.

Time had become meaningless, as they remained there on top of each
other, unable to move. She was the one who managed to get up first and
stagger to the bed, falling on her back. He followed soon after,
laying next to her.

He dozed off, exhausted, his arms and legs and chest aching from her
nails, her bites, and the effort of their fucking. He had no idea how
long he was out, he suspected not all that much, when he felt Yor’s
tongue pressing against the tip of her urethra, her lips wrapped
around her member. She was fellating him in the same manner Tsubaki
did, it was of course obvious the expertise would carry over. His cock
started to respond, quickly hardening again.

He soon felt Yor’s legs straddling his hips, but also something soft
under his chin. As she lowered herself on his erection she pulled on
the black stocking wrapped around his neck. He gasped for air,
attempting to push her away, only to realize she had used her other
stocking to tie his wrists to the bedpost. His ankles were bound by
Catherine’s red sash which was in turn tied to a bedpost at the foot
of the bed. Having taken her gloves off only the harness remained
hugging her body.

As soon as she bottomed out she eased the tension, allowing him to
breath.

“No more games, where is Rurikawa?”

“She’s a sweet girl,” he replied, “she’s just a maid.”

“She’s a maid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, now
where is she?”

“What did she do?”

“Enough explanations, where did she go?”

“I don’t know.”

She pulled on the stocking, feeling his cock twitch as he
grimaced. She began to slowly rock back and forth, feeling his member
press against the walls of her pussy while grinding her clit against
him.

“Nnnnnnnnngh,” she groaned, the effort making her shiver before
easing her choke.

He gasped, quickly trying to get his breathing under control.

“Where is Rurikawa?”

“I won’t say.”

She responded by leaning forwards and cutting off his airflow.

“Nnnyyyygh,” she mewled, using his penis to churn her insides.

He arched his back, straining for air as she kept pulling, slowly
gyrating her hips, feeling his erection become even larger, her legs
pressing against his hips.

“So wet…” she whispered, salty beads forming on her forehead, her
entire body damp with sweat. Strands of grool dangled from her slit,
soaking his thighs, his anus, his inflamed testicles, the sheets. She
eased the choke, panting, her harness digging into the skin of her
chest and around her breasts.

“Where is she?”

“I won’t…” he started to repeat, before being cut off by the
stocking squeezing around his neck.

She repeated cycle, again and again, a question and a rebuke, followed
by her strangling and fucking him.

“Nnnnnnggh! I’m… close…. nnnnngh!” she growled and groaned,
writhing on top of him, her cunt forcefully contracting with the
effort she was making as she tightened the fabric around his throat,
asphyxiating him.

Suddenly hypoxia kicked in, making him convulse and buck his hips,
driving his pulsating penis deep into her.

“Fuck! Aaaaauuuugh! Nnnnnnggh!” she screamed as the sensory tsunami
overwhelmed her, the powerful orgasm ripping through her very core,
vaginal secretions flushing out of her cunt, every single muscle in
her body tensing against the straps of her harness, her toes painfully
curling in an agonizing paroxysm.

She collapsed on top of him, shaking and heaving, her breasts crushed
against his chest, her face buried into his shoulder. She had let go
of the stocking, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair instead.

They lay motionless on top of each other, her flushed body returning
to its usual pale, slightly yellowish hue, his pallor slowly becoming
a natural pink tone. It took five, perhaps ten minutes for her to
recover enough to straighten up, still impaled on top of him. She
grabbed the ends of the stocking and pulled, again suffocating him,
though her strength had considerably waned by now. His erection
twitched in response.

“Where is she?” she asked, more a plea than a question.

He slowly shook his head, his eyes closed, a weak smile full of pain
and hurt on his lips. Again she pulled, loosely this time, unable to
maintain the tension for more than a few seconds.

“Why? Why won’t you say it?” she cried, her eyes filling with
tears.

He whispered something inaudible. She crouched forwards, turning her
head, her ear nearly touching his lips.

“Let her go.”

The room became completely silent. He felt her teardrops falling on
his cheek.

“Fidelio,” she whispered, as she finally released him.

12. *Seung-hee*

As she removed the ties his breathing finally normalized, but his
erection, though softer, still beckoned her. She had by now taken off
the harness and was completely naked. She gently mounted him, tenderly
easing him into her cunt as she kissed his chest, his neck, his
cheeks, his lips.

“It’s me,” she whispered, “finish inside me… please.”

“I’m too weak, Seung-hee.”

“It’s OK, just relax, just relax.”

She quietly began to ride him with a slow, nearly hypnotic rhythm,
taking turns gyrating her hips, then rocking back and forth, then
moving up and down, repeating the sequence over and over. She fucked
him for a very long time, and though at first he remained still he
eventually began to explore her body, sliding his hands over the curve
of her hips, the length of her thighs, the smoothness of her abdomen,
the contour of her breasts, absorbing the soft texture of her skin
against his palms. Their lovemaking lasted deep into the night.

“I’m going to come, Seung-hee,” he gasped, at long last.

“Me too, I’m coming…” she said, leaning down to give him a deep,
passionate kiss on the mouth.

They trembled as one, in silence, as they orgasmed together.

13. *Cosplay*

She eventually rolled off of him during their slumber. They had slept
for a few hours but, in spite of their gruelling tryst, dawn found
them laying side-by-side, looking up towards the white nothingness of
the ceiling above them, in silence.

“Seung-hee,” he quietly said.

“Yes?”

“Would you be my girlfriend?”

She turned towards him, perplexed. Was this high-school? A Korean
drama? Did people really ask that question? Was he making fun of her?
He was still looking up, and she noticed he was nervously biting his
lower lip. She should have known by now, he would never mock her.

“I’m not girlfriend material,” she whispered.

He paused for a few seconds before replying.

“If it’s about materials we’re all made of stars, Seung-hee, we just
forget sometimes.”

Seung-hee smiled a sad smile, in wonder.

“You just want a cute cosplayer for your shoots, don’t you?”

“Well,” he said, “that too.”

They remained still for a couple of minutes, listening to each other’s
breathing.

“We could also shoot at my place sometimes, or yours if you like,
if it’s too cold outside,” he said.

She pondered the offer.

“Yours is better, I live in an ugly little room.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Like Joe’s garage, huh?” he remarked.

“Who?”

“You know, Zappa?

“Who’s Joe Zappa?”

“Frank Zappa. Wait, give me a second,” he said, reaching for his
smartphone on the nightstand, flinching for an instant as his aching
body complained. He laid back and quickly found the track he was
looking for.

“Listen,” he said, as the Central Scrutinizer began its soliloquy.

“What’s that?” Seung-hee asked when Joe began to feel depressed.

“You’ll see.”

Seung-hee thought it the strangest song she had ever heard, talking
about imaginary guitar notes and vocals. Was this really music?

“And, ultimately, who gives a fuck anyway?”

The percussion starts with a slow crescendo, the bass line underneath
accentuating the cymbals, the monologue ongoing. When Joe went back
to his ugly little room Seung-hee suddenly understood. When he
started to dream the chords, she knew. She knew.

It was her, Seung-hee, just plain Seung-hee, lost and made of stars,
she was the last imaginary guitar solo.

A quiet sob escaped her lips.

“Why am I crying?” she turned towards him, feeling a warm dampness
as she touched her face. “I feel so sad, I can’t stop crying.”

“It’s OK to cry sometimes,” he comforted her.

She smiled, eyes trembling, tears falling down her pale cheeks.

“Could you just… hold me for a bit?” she asked.

He took her in his arms as she wept, and she held unto him, a tight
embrace fuelled by loneliness and fear, by emptiness and pain, by
despair and hopelessness, by the overwhelming melancholy of a life
passing her by.

As the room again became silent he started to fall asleep, listening
to Seung-hee’s gentle snoring, her face buried in his chest, her body
pressed against his, completely naked, no more cosplay to be had.

If you liked this story please consider checking out
[The Grade](https://redd.it/zn5gcx)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/102g458/cosplay_m22f22_consex_33