Leah woke up to a low humming in her head, the familiar scent of iron and mold clinging to the corners of the room. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, greeted by a beautiful chaos: a grey bed soaked with sweat, her tight green dress bathed in the dim morning light, and three purple silicone toys scattered around like domesticated mosaics of lust.
She spotted the black headset on her pillow, and the Poké-ball lying near her feet—memories of last night's virtual adventure flashing back. Heavy breaths still teased the strands of her orange hair, and her own sweaty scent told a tale of half the night spent in delightful madness.
Leah propped herself up on her elbows, a sly smile blooming on her lips as thick, white fluid trickled from between her thighs—a clear, honest trophy of her victory. She grabbed the largest of the silicone beasts, held it before her eyes like a magic sword from a world that scoffed at shame, then glanced mockingly at the red-and-white ball in the corner:
> "Guess the egg's just not enough anymore…"
She sat at the edge of the bed, pushed the pillow aside, and peeled off the emerald dress in soft, dancing motions. Her full breasts glistened under the faint light, the torn folds of the fabric revealing the entirety of her figure. A deep breath later, she clicked on the headset.
A chaotic rap beat exploded into the room, vibrating the bed as she nodded to the rhythm.
The purple toy brushed against her quivering lips. Leah couldn't resist its ribbed texture. She pushed it between her lips, then let it slide in with one swift thrust, triggering a ripple across her lips, her belly tightening with pleasure.
The music grew louder, mixing with the scent of arousal in the air. Her body arched with every push, every deeper stroke of the toy.
One drop... then two...
And the rhythm began.
She lifted the toy.
Dragged it up.
Drove it deep.
Exhaled wide and leaned back.
Every tool of desire was summoned that morning:
The beat in her ears.
The pulse of the toy.
The purple light flashing against her moving skin.
Her body shivered. Tears welled under her lashes—not of pain, but raw, unfiltered pleasure.
Then, a knock—sharp, fast, like a drumbeat: "TAP. TAP. TAP!"
Tears dried instantly. A spark of shame pulsed through her chest. Leah fumbled for the headset, scrambling to turn off the music, but it was too loud, too late. The knocking had morphed into a mocking rhythm in her head.
The door swung open.
There stood Kaito Arashi, pale-faced, eyes caught between shock and barely restrained rage. He froze at the scene: a bed soaked in fluids, a massive gleaming toy in Leah's hand, and sticky strands trailing behind her.
Leah paused for half a second... then burst into laughter. A hot, defiant laugh that sliced through the room like a blade:
– "Good morning, babe! What do you think of the latest silicon model?"
Kaito's hand trembled as he tried to speak, his voice choked with disbelief:
– "Leah… Why didn't you tell me…?"
She winked with her left eye, flashing a teasing grin:
– "You know I hate routine. Toys... they're just my way of staying fresh."
Kaito stepped forward cautiously. Leah still held the toy like an art dealer presenting a rare piece. But he took a step back.
– "Maybe… I should learn too?"
Before he could finish, Leah leapt at him. Their lips collided in a hot, clumsy kiss, swirling with curiosity and leftover shame. The toy slipped from her hand onto the bed, forgotten.
Their bodies wrapped around each other, caught in a very unconventional morning dance.