I belong to the Naught Ninjas, you can see our group website
here, and this week we had a FB Christmas Party full of wrongness. One thing that has caught the Ninjas imagination is squid/octopus. Apparently there's a lot of sea-animal porn online and it's captured Ninja attention, along with Sharknado.
So, in the wee hours after teh party, when I had too much wrongness in my head, I wrote this Tentacle Porn for the Ninjas. It's less than 1000 words, so I guess it's flash fiction.
Feel free to skip it...it's all sorts of wrongness!
Tentacle Porn especially for the Naughty Ninjas.
The globular head slithered between her thighs as the
octopus was hurled into the boat by her fisherman husband. Bloody useless man! A whole boat and he lands the freaking thing in my
lap.
Before she could jump, the damn animal nestled against her,
tentacles clutching her thighs through her jeans.
In seconds, the beaky-mouth
closed over her crotch and intense suction rendered her speechless, incapable
of moving.
Her fishing rod loosened in her grasp, and a tug on the line
saw it fly over the side of the boat. Not
good. But she couldn’t care, not with the octopus causing havoc with her
cunt.
Stretching in the chair, she arched to give the creature
room to move, and it did. Taking far more notice of her needs than her husband
ever did, the octopus set a frantic pace on her, closing it’s mouth right over
her clit and attaching as if permanently. The suction and heat were
extraordinary.
Then the tentacles moved with little tugs against her body.
Two slid upwards before finding their way beneath her shirt. Tiny pulls of the
suckers on her stomach were excruciating and exciting. They went higher. To the
undersides of her breasts and then over them, into her bra and, fuck, the suckers caught her nipples.
Tight. Fucking hell. It was like the best lips in the world, squeezing on her
tits.
The beak probed her crotch through her jeans before two more
tentacles slithered beneath her shirt. These ones didn’t move upwards, they
ducked into her jeans and slithered downwards. She groaned, loudly. She
couldn’t help it. Her husband may hear but she didn’t care. He’d thrown the
damn thing at her so it was his fault…and her pleasure. But over the rhythmic
rock of waves on the hull, he never heard her, or maybe he had an ignored her
moaning, that was more likely.
The tentacles slithered slowly, suctioning against her belly
as they angled down. Then more tentacles moved, beneath her this time. She felt
the little kisses as the suckers moved across her lower back. They moved
higher, right along her spine, giving her long sucking kisses at the edge of
each vertebrae. She hissed her pleasure. Wrapped by octopus was not something
she’d ever thought of as sexy, well, actually she’d never thought of it at all,
but dear God, this was the sexiest sex she’d ever had.
The tentacles going south at the front, slipped either side
of her slit and kissed their way down her labia. She was soaked, from tentacle
goodness and octopus-suction slobber. Her jeans were wet down her thighs,
rubbing on her clit as the mouth-like beak sucked and pulsed. Then two
tentacles slid into the back of her jeans.
Holy mother fucking squid-topus.
She was hardly sitting now. She was more sprawled across the
chair with the backs of her thighs and the tops of her shoulders anchoring her.
Her feet dug into the side of the boat. Tentacles slithered, kissed, sucked and
pulsated against her. Nipples were caught up in suction pads that caught, held,
squeezed and released. It was like sucking lips and pinching fingers all at
once. Her labia were experiencing similar exquisite kisses, but the extra
slickness meant these were sloppy, slippery and sliding along her lips.
Sometimes they dipped into her slit and she almost died of pleasure. The
tentacles on her back held her, like an embrace, but one that teased her skin
with hickeys, as if a hundred pairs of lips suckled her flesh. And the rear.
God. The tentacles at the rear were touching up her arse. Slipping against the
tight hole, while at the same time suction squeezed around it. Was it trying to
force her open, or just easing the opening? She didn’t know and it was so hot,
she didn’t care.
She couldn’t focus on any point of contact. The tentacles
and the octopus mouth were working furiously together keeping her riding the
edge of an orgasm that was going to kill her. And if it didn’t, her husband
would do that for losing the rod, or fucking a fish, or more precisely being
mounted by a mollusc.
Mother fucking octopussssssss.
Tentacles all clasped at once. Squeezing her as they found
her holes. A tentacle slid inside her arse as if it was the most natural thing
in the world. Muscles stretched but not uncomfortably as it wriggled inside
her. Another pulsed into her vagina not exactly filling it until, holy fuck,
she was filled by it. Stuffed tight by suctioning tentacle that seemed to twist
itself in knots as it filled her. She writhed as her body sang. Suction
everywhere had her arching, writhing, squeezing, pulsing.
Tentacles pumped into and out of her. Faster and faster.
Then the one in her cunt eased, before it got thicker. Fuck. So thick. How?
Moving to send her insane. Two tentacles maybe? They pumped her. Cunt in, arse
out. Arse in, cunt out. The suction on her clit matched with the anal probe.
She couldn’t last any longer. Stars buzzed behind her eyes. Colours whirled.
Then the beak sucked her clit tight, sucking harder and
harder, no rest, no break.
All the tentacles thrust into her together. And the ones on
her back and breasts seemed to suck tighter, like they were trying to peel off
her skin.
Every muscle in her body went rigid. A scream echoed in her
brain, round and round and round, and finally her mouth opened and the scream
was released into the air.
The tentacles were unrelenting. Thrusting continuously,
never to be spent. Never to be flaccid. Never to shrink and flop from her.
She rode that orgasm as if her life depended on it. She rode
it high into the clouds and beyond. The octopus was taking her beyond anything
she’d felt before. And she was never going to stop. She rode that orgasm into
the outer realms of space.
Her husband was jailed for murder. The jury were horrified
at the number of puncture wounds he’d inflicted on his wife’s body. They
weren’t fishermen, he claimed, and didn’t understand that an octopus could
attack a human. They didn’t know that he’d stabbed his wife inadvertently when
she screamed. All he was trying to do was to kill the octopus that was
attacking his wife. It had already eaten her fishing rod, so he knew it was
going to consume her. He was only protecting her.