Stray Cat Strut - Interlewd Five (Patreon)

(Volume Six - After Chapter Forty-Eight)

Interlewd Five

Delilah was somewhere approaching exhausted when she arrived at... home?

She wasn’t sure if the place was home yet.

She flew the Fury around the building a couple of times, idly watching the fading sunlight play across the silvery cat sitting atop the skyscraper. It was... extremely gaudy. Cheesy, even. But also very Cat, and very samurai.

Most corps shied away from anything this overt. That was asking for trouble. Cat didn’t seem to even have a second to spare to wonder about her appearance when it came to this kind of thing. Which was one of the big reasons why Delilah... Gomorrah, chose to make this place her home.

It was an overt declaration. ‘A samurai lives here. Don’t mess with it.’ And she liked that.

Driving the Fury around, she slid into the parking garage and into her slot. Soon she’d have a parking spot for the Fury in her part of the building, but for now this place was private and secure enough.

She wasn’t impressed with Cat’s security so far. It was lackadaisical. Some turrets tucked away on the outside of the building, none hard enough to break through the armour of a flying APC. It was enough to deter civilians, maybe, but that was it. She was working on upgrades, which started with the suite of flamethrowers tucked into the roof of the elevators. Anyone riding it with ill intent would reach their destined floor as char.

She’d be adding more, of course. Scanners, and security drones on patrol routes. Some flamer turrets here and there. Maybe some missile pods hidden in the walls able to fire out of the building?

She didn’t plan on turning it into a fortress... just a place that would be so costly to attack that it wasn’t worth it.

Her home, when it became home, would be safe. For her, and for...

For Franny.

Delilah swallowed. She’d gone a whole ten minutes without thinking of Franny. Almost a record.

She had no idea what Franny was to her at the moment. A girlfriend? Maybe? She hoped.

They certainly kissed like girlfriends did.

They were getting better at it. No more clicking teeth together, no more bruised noses. Though... the fumbling early stuff had been nice too, in a way. Inexperience and awkwardness all led to something that was as funny as it was... hot.

Delilah found herself licking her lips. She wanted that taste again.

Franny liked a particular brand of lip balm. It was minty.

Delilah wasn’t a big fan of mint anything. From cookies to toothpaste, she found the taste too strong.

She loved it on Franny’s lips.

The elevator opened so suddenly that Delilah jumped a little. Atyacus sent her augs a silent report from the house. There wasn’t much to report, really. Everything was still under construction.

She stepped out and took it all in. More walls had been added, but they were unpainted and rough still. The construction drones were deeper in, moving at a snail’s pace as they lifted a precut piece of metal and then bolted it into place on some framing.

Her home wouldn’t have anything flammable in it. That meant metal walls and tile floors. It would be tricky to decorate, but that would come in time.

“Oh.”

Delilah turned, then paused to take in Franny. She was standing there, out of her habit. Instead, Franny was in tattered, very tight jeans, with a belt that looked like it had little bullet casings all around it. Her shirt was a size too small. Maybe two, judging by the amount of stomach it left exposed, and the way it clung around her chest.

“Hi,” Delilah said as her brain engaged. She blinked as she finally noticed Franny’s hair. Or one lock of it, in any case. It was a bright, almost neon blue. It clashed hard with Franny’s natural, orange-y hair.

“Welcome home,” Franny said with a grin. She was blushing a little. It was always very obvious with her, her skin was too pale to hide it, and her freckles stood out whenever that line of red blossomed across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah,” Delilah said. “It’s nice to be back. Did... did you need a ride back, or something?”

It was getting kind of late. Delilah wouldn’t mind driving Franny back though.

“I thought I’d stay the night,” Franny said.

“Oh,” Delilah replied. She could feel the blood rushing up to her face, but she willed it away. “Is the guest bedroom done?”

“No,” Franny said matter-of-factly.

Delilah started jumping to conclusions. “Oh,” she repeated. Then she cleared her throat and pushed on. This wasn’t the first time she was tongue-tied, but it used to be a rare occurrence. She’d always prided herself on having a good demeanour, on being stable and level-headed. Recently, that had been harder, and not because she was frequently facing off against hordes of ravenous aliens.

It was her ravenous maybe-probably-girlfriend that was a bigger threat in Delilah’s mind.

“I’m starving,” Delilah said. “Do you want to order something?”

“Yeah, sure!” Franny said. “The kitchen’s not ready, but there’s an island to eat at, and I found a couple of stools we can use.”

“Alright,” Delilah said.

So they ambled over to the kitchen while Franny talked about food. Delilah only glanced down at Franny’s rear once. A quick peek which still made her feel impossibly guilty. It was wrong. She needed to have better control over herself.

They ordered from a place nearby, just a building over, in fact, and Delilah abused her control over the few drones she had on security duty to have one waiting in the parking garage for the food.

By the time they were sitting next to each other in the barren kitchen, the food was already being cooked up in some little kitchen somewhere.

They started talking about furniture. “We’ll have to decide what you want to buy for points, and what we’ll buy for credits,” Franny said.

“It feels almost sacrilegious to spend points on something like a couch,” Delilah said, and she was happy to see Franny nodding.

“Yeah. Probably ninety-nine percent buy the old fashioned way. We need a fridge, some cabinets, couches, seats.” Franny patted the stool between her legs. She always sat inappropriately, knees apart. It was distracting.

“I think we can manage that,” Delilah said.

“But some things we should get protector-made,” Franny said.

“The doors,” Delilah replied instantly. “I want them to be safe.”

“And the bed.”

Delilah felt her mind hitch, but she didn’t let it show.

The bed.

Singular.

As in only one of them.

“Ah, yeah,” Delilah said. So far she’d been sleeping in a small blow-up mattress she’d grabbed from the convent. It was easy to set up, and durable. She didn’t need luxury. “The bed,” she said.

I have several beds I could supply. Based on the dimensions of your room, I think I could easily fit one that you and Franny would find comfortable. Sleep is important.

She swallowed again. “Maybe later.”

Franny gave her a look. “Maybe later,” she said.

Food arrived, and Delilah delighted in being distracted by some extremely fatty poutine with smoked meat while Franny chewed through a salad and occasionally stole a forkful of Delilah’s meal.

They talked, about not much at all, and soon Delilah realized that she didn’t own a trash can either.

“Want to see about the bed while I get freshened up?” Franny asked. She was trying to sound casual. Delilah had lived most of her life near Franny, she could tell. Her friend was nervous about something.

“Yeah,” Delilah said.

Franny came closer, leaning in towards Delilah. Delilah leaned in too, and they kissed. It was surprisingly chaste.

She watched Franny go, and participated in a little bit of sin as her eyes wandered down before she could snap them up.

They had... rules.

Delilah, in a fit of what was possibly divine inspiration or insanity, had told Franny that Franny was in charge. She’d dropped the reins of whatever power they had in their relationship by Franny’s feet, and decided that that was... that.

The memory of what she’d done, in their old classroom, no less, was seared into her mind to this day, and would likely stay there until she died as either one of the most... arousing or embarrassing moments of her life. Maybe both.

Franny had decided to use that right that Delilah had given her. It happened in Burlington, a few awkward days later. After some kissing, Franny had demanded to know what Delilah’s limits were.

The idea didn’t seem like one that came from Franny. Delilah suspected Lucy was to blame, but... she wasn’t all that disappointed by it.

Franny had Delilah’s permission to do whatever she wanted with Delilah, and the first thing she did with that was ask Delilah what her limits were.

It was extremely sweet.

Delilah had to think on it, but she’d eventually drawn a line, and it was a hard one to follow.

She didn’t want sex.

Actually, no, that was an awful lie. Delilah wanted sex a lot, with Franny, at a frequency that was likely unhealthy. What she meant was she didn’t want... intercourse? Penetration? She didn’t want to spoil herself, not before marriage.

It was stupid, and antiquated, and even a little haughty. Delilah was terrified that Franny would laugh at her, or push past that line (and Delilah would fold, because she’d given Franny that right, and she wanted it as much as she didn’t), but Franny had been beautiful.

They hadn’t pushed things since.

Oh, there was lots of kissing.

Very nice kissing.

Some hugging. A few... many moments where hands wandered. Franny seemed to really enjoy Delilah’s breasts, which Delilah enjoyed the enjoying of.

Delilah snapped out of her state of wasteful pining and followed after Franny, who was already far ahead. She found the redhead in the bedroom, folding the blow-up mattress up into its little box. The main floor space was clear and empty. “I made room for the bed,” Franny said. “Well, more room, there’s only a chair, really.”

Delilah nodded, then paused. There was a chair. A nice, plush one that she didn’t recognize at all. “Where did you get that?”

“It was in the building already,” Franny said. “I think it was in some C-suite office? It’s kinda heavy, but nice. I washed it off, so it’s fine.”

It was a nice chair, a bit modern, all leather. She didn’t know if it fit, but she didn’t complain, not when it accounted for... almost one hundred percent of her furniture at the moment.

“Right, a bed,” Delilah said.

She started to subvocalize with Atyacus. A bed wouldn’t come in a box, she hoped. The AI was usually good at pointing her towards what she needed, but he also tried to upsell her often. In this case, she wasn’t sure she needed a self-heating and cooling bed... until she started to think about it.

A warming bed would mean that she couldn’t naturally gravitate towards the nearest source of warmth, who might also be occupying the bed.

That would be nice, actually. And blankets. Two sets.

It didn’t take long before the order was up, and she asked Franny to step aside even if she was in the clear.

With a thump, a bed appeared. It was done up with blankets already. Black and white, with a faint flame pattern embroidered into them. A bit... on the nose, but not too badly so. It was large too. King-sized, or something close to that. Its footprint was almost as large as her car’s.

“Nice!” Franny said. She hopped up, knees first onto the bed, then bounced onto it, rolling onto her back with a laugh. “Oh, it’s sinky.”

“It can harden,” Delilah said. “Or... change consistencies, I suppose. So you don’t move as much as you sleep. And it stays warm or cool.”

“That’s interesting,” Franny said. “I’d never really thought about... bed technology, before.” She reached towards the pillows, grabbing one and hugging it even as she sat up. There were two small thuds as she kicked her shoes off over the side.

Franny eyed Delilah.

Delilah stared back.

Then Franny smiled. “Sit,” she said.

Her voice had that same laughter in it, but also an edge. It was a Command.

Delilah swallowed, then moved to the chair. It was facing the side of the bed that Franny was on. She sat. Properly, at that, with her knees together and her skirt adjusted just-so. She waited for Franny to say something.

Instead, Franny shifted on the bed, then fell back. Just for a moment. She arched her hips up, then undid her belt with a clinking noise that sounded louder than some gunshots she’d heard. The belt came loose, then Franny started to remove her pants. Slowly.

Delilah felt like some sort of perverted voyeur as she just sat there and watched as Franny squeezed out of her pants. “Oh, you have no idea how tight these are,” Franny said as she finally pushed the jeans down her legs.

Delilah had an idea.

Franny let the pants fall to the floor. It was slovenly, but they were sinning in much more interesting ways at the moment.

Delilah didn’t know where to look, but she had the impression that that was part of the... game here. So she stared.

Franny was wearing black panties. Not the kind of underthings they had at the convent, which were all beige and kind of square and about as modest as such things could be. These were shapely, sporty. They covered all of Franny’s... derriere, but little else. There was text on the back, and it took her a moment to parse it.

God’s Chosen. In large, white all-caps.

She found her mouth incredibly dry at the moment.

Franny sat up, then reached down, crossed her arms, and tugged her t-shirt off in one more. Her breasts jiggled and Delilah discovered that she didn’t know where she wanted to stare more, because Franny wasn’t wearing a bra.

A little “Oh,” escaped Delilah’s lips.

She noticed Franny grinning at her and realized that she felt very warm. “You haven’t seen these in a while, huh?” Franny asked. She wasn’t as endowed as Delilah. Delilah didn’t really care.

“Not since... we went to that park, with the water slides,” Delilah said.

“Huh... oh yeah, with those awful bathing suits,” Franny said. She casually reached up and squeezed a breast. “I remember those. They were itchy.”

And they covered everything from mid-arm all the way down to their knees. Delilah hadn’t cared for them either. Though she still vividly remembered the changing room where... anyway.

“What are we doing?” Delilah asked.

“You’re sitting there,” Franny said. A leg came up, bending in half until Franny leaned back onto one elbow. Her free hand carefully slid across her torso, then down to the underwear. There was a cross on the front of them. White against the black cotton.

Franny’s fingers pressed against the material, pushing over the cross and outlining what was just beneath that thin layer of cloth. They went down, then slowly moved back up, then back down again.

Delilah’s eyes almost boggled as she realized what was happening. She adjusted the way she was sitting, just a little, still keeping her legs together, but making damned sure that her thighs weren’t rubbing as she watched... as she watched Franny casually masturbate in front of her.

And Franny was watching, half-lidded eyes, a small knowing smile, fingers still stroking across her very lewd panties. Franny’s breathing stayed careful and even, and Delilah continued to watch.

A minute passed, then another. There was silence except for Franny’s breathing, which was coming in quicker. So were her strokes across her panties.

Delilah wondered if she was imagining the stain on the front of the panties or if the wetness was just a trick of the light.

Franny leaned back, her arm which had been holding her up moving to squish her breast, pinch her nipples. There was a gasp, a faint moan, and Delilah stopped her legs from rubbing against each other with a force of will.

Franny’s movements grew faster. Delilah grew more desperate to do... something. She didn’t know what. She was ordered to sit. So she sat, and watched, and sweated.

She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she wasn’t ordered to sit.

Delilah perked up as Franny’s breathing started to hitch. She wasn’t imagining the smell in the air. Then Franny jerked upwards to a sitting position, and Delilah started in her seat, startled at the sudden motion.

Franny swept a hand through her hair, then locked eyes with Delilah. She reached under the pillow next to her, then scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. Delilah leaned back as Franny walked over to her. She could definitely smell the arousal in the air, the faint scent of Franny’s shampoo, the taste of mint.

Then Franny sat on Delilah’s lap.

It was only possible because the seat had no arms. Franny sat with her legs wide apart, her weight on Delilah’s thighs and her butt resting on Delilah’s knees. Franny leaned in for a kiss, which Delilah very gladly reciprocated.

The kiss ended all too soon. It had done nothing to help Delilah calm down.

She had no idea what to do with her hands. Grabbing was... out of the question. So she sat with both arms loose by her side, awkwardly.

Franny moved a hand up, the same one that had been... rubbing a moment before. “Open,” she murmured. Delilah opened her mouth, then almost gasped as Franny’s fingertips traced along her bottom lip. “Don’t swallow,” Franny ordered.

Delilah blinked at the command, but endeavoured to obey as Franny carefully moved her fingers into Delilah’s mouth.

In a way, this was pushing the ‘no penetration’ rules, but Delilah’s brain was far too fuzzy to start rules lawyering. Her mouth was filled with saliva, and she hyper focused on Franny’s fingers which touched her tongue.

Was... was she tasting Franny?

Delilah squirmed a little, which made Franny grin. “Let’s try something new,” Franny whispered.

Delilah nodded, then something unexpected happened. Franny pulled her hand back and raised the other which held... a small black object. It looked shiny, like plastic, and was all curved and soft edges.

“Kiss it,” Franny said as she held the thing close to Delilah’s mouth.

She complied, kissing the little thing.

Franny grinned. “Open,” she said. When Delilah did as she was told, Franny slipped the little thing into her mouth. It was about as long as Delilah’s middle finger, with space for a sort of curved handle on the end. It was thick, and soft, and warm. It slipped into her mouth, where she still hadn’t swallowed. “Lick it,” Franny said. “Make it wet for me.”

Delilah had no idea what this was about, but she didn’t fail to obey. She worked her tongue under the thing, then around it.

“All wet, Delilah,” Franny ordered. “As wet as you can make it.”

Delilah worked her tongue some more, even as Franny started to push and pull the thing almost all the way out of her mouth, then all the way back in until it was nearing the back of her throat. It was almost enough to make her forget Franny’s weight, her presence so close to her.

Franny reached up and touched Delilah’s breast with her other hand, squeezing it through the material of her sweater. It wasn’t close contact, but it was contact all the same. Franny kneaded it, and Delilah found her breathing speeding up as Franny toyed with her and the thing in her mouth.

“I think,” Franny said, “That that’s enough.”

She stood, and instantly Delilah missed her warmth even as the thing in her mouth ‘popped’ past her lips.

Franny raised it, and Delilah had her first good look. It was a small, black... very phallic thing.

She gulped, swallowing even as she felt a line of drool running down the corner of her lip. There was a gossamer-faint line of her spittle going from her mouth to the... to the dildo.

Where had Franny even gotten that?

The thought soon left as Franny turned and swayed to the bed. She climbed back on, then knelt and leaned forwards, her rear towards Delilah, raised in the air, her weight on one shoulder as she twisted a little so that she could look back.

Franny shifted her hips, spreading her legs wider apart.

She moved the hand with the dildo back, then reached over with her other hand.

Carefully, she tugged at her panties, pulling them aside. There was wetness there. So much that the fabric clung. But Delilah was only passively aware as she stared, in the dim lighting of the room, at Franny’s... most intimate parts.

There were lips, puffy and wet, and shadows that Delilah could almost not make out. She swallowed again, not even bothering to hide the way she was squirming in her seat.

Franny moved the dildo back, to her entrance, and Delilah gasped as she watched, her face aflame. Delilah had never... never pushed anything into herself before. Rubbing, sure, but only when she was desperate. Penetration felt taboo, it felt wrong to do in a way that she could barely articulate. And yet here Franny was, a piece of silicon sin poised by her entrance, covered in Delilah’s drool.

It slipped in, knuckle deep, and Franny moaned softly. The drool leaking off the dildo pooled by the entrance, then started to slowly leak down.

“Franny,” Delilah gasped.

“I love you,” Franny replied quickly.

It was enough to muddle any words and thoughts Delilah might have had.

Then Franny pushed the dildo in, and Delilah was transfixed as she watched it slip in. it moved in deeper, disappearing within Franny who moaned at the penetration.

Then Franny was there, gasping, panties still only pulled aside a little, God’s Chosen in brazen defiance above an act that was certainly unrepentant. She flicked something, and the little device started to hum as it vibrated.

“Oh,” Franny gasped weakly. She started to move, mostly her wrist, pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling. It was slick and dark and wrong and very, very hot. Delilah almost felt faint as she watched Franny defile herself. She couldn’t think of another word for it.

She wanted to... to do something. Touch her. Kiss her. Lick that little thing some more for another taste of Franny.

Instead, she sat, as she was ordered to, and watched. Her hands were on her lap, kneading. Then she noticed Franny looking back at her through half-lidded eyes. Yes, there was a lot of lust there, but also a hint of worry. Delilah’s mind might have been foggy, but not to the level where she didn’t catch on.

Slowly, Delilah spread her knees apart, then started to push against the fabric at the front of her skirt. She could barely feel the press through the material of her skirt and her underthings, but it was there, and she made a show of rubbing herself.

The worry she saw in Franny faded, and Franny’s moans took on a new, more frantic pace even as she continued to move her wrist faster and faster. “Oh, Delilah,” Franny said, it was almost a complaint.

Her head turned, and Delilah saw her bite into their brand new blankets.

Then Franny’s entire body shuddered. Her thighs wiggled, and she let out a moaning little squeak that almost made Delilah laugh before she let go of her panties and fell to her side, panting.

They were both quiet for a good, long minute while Franny caught her breath. Then she scooted to the side, reached down, and carefully extricated the dildo which was still humming away inside of her. She turned it off and let it lay on the bed next to her.

Franny looked over to Delilah, and Delilah could barely read her expression. Worry, shame, lust, fear, more lust.

“That was...” Delilah began. She swallowed, adjusted her skirt so that it was more natural, then she adjusted her hair. “S-so, is that, uh, your side of the bed?” she asked.

Franny laughed, then giggled, then laughed some more.

Delilah joined her a moment later, feeling a lot of relief.

And a whole lot more pent up than she’d been just an hour ago.

If things continued this way, she was afraid that Delilah would be the one breaking her own rules first.

***