Living in Cyn

Cynthia/Marley

“Yes, more.” It was the most unenthused, monotone cry of joy Cynthia had ever heard. She thought when she took the gothic lolita up to one of the rooms, eager to see if the doll-looking girl was as kinky as she hoped, she hadn't expected such overwhelming deadpan. She quite honestly suspected Marley was enjoying it, too, and just that dull a speaker.

She was on her knees, Marley bent over the dresser, still wearing her frilly black skirt. Her modest panties—pink, which Cynthia found adorable and comments on which almost added a bit of colour to the girl's face—were stuffed into Cynthia's pocket as a little memento, allowing unimpeded access of her tongue to the girl's slit.

A slight motion in her hips was the most she could muster. She genuinely loved the feeling of Cynthia lavishing her pussy like that, expertly working her over with skill and adoration for every inch of her core. “M-my ass,” she said a little lower, the fluctuation in her voice giving away to Cynthia the effect she was having. “Please, do something to my ass.” It was almost a little embarrassing to ask, to dare ask for something from such a master of her trade—and at Pokemon battling, too—who knew exactly what she was doing.

Cynthia just smirked though, not at all unwilling to oblige that fetish. Her hands ran over the girl's cute, pert ass before spreading her fingers across her alabaster skin and slowly dipping her middle finger into her tight pucker. The gentle shiver in her spine told her it was working, and her tongue slipped in deeper to the moist warmth, eagerly tasting of the apparently very shy gothic girl. She had missed stuffing her head up a nice, roomy skirt full of frills, and she intended to get her fill of things. Her free hand lingered around the girl's folds, brushing her thigh or massaging her clitoris or any of a number of a things. People said idle hands were the devil's tools, but she felt she could get much more sinful when she devoted every last finger to her cause.

“I-I'm going to...” Marley could hardly keep her words straight, it seemed, and it was music to Cynthia's ears. She was slowly coaxing the girl out of a shell that would hopefully bring with it the reward of a powerful explosion between her own loins. She rubbed her legs together at that thought.

“Do it,” she snarled, muffled by the pink pussy lips she payed tribute to. “I want to taste it.”

Marley just squealed; still deadpan and more lifeless than a corpse, but it was a squeal nonetheless. She trembled a little, hands pressed hard against the dresser to maintain her balance. She repeated “Yes,” over and over, the only difference from her normal speech being the hard breath she took every time. Her hips moved a little more now, her body on fire as the orgasm finished its build-up and exploded from within her core, spreading white-hot pleasure throughout. She moaned, not a particularly erotic moan, but Cynthia thought she had somehow made deadpan sound sexy. Maybe it was the dress, and everything lying beneath the dress.

The rush of sweet juices sent Cynthia's sense of taste reeling as she lapped at the dripping pussy, finger still pumping in and out of her pale rump. “So good,” she lamented as the girl breathed heavily, orgasm subsiding. She withdrew the finger from her ass and sighed. Getting up, she turned Marley around pulled her into a short kiss and dropping her pants and the black thong she wore, lying spread on the bed and smiling at the gothic trainer. “Your turn.”

Cynthia/Cheryl

Cynthia's turn to squirm on the bed first as her next conquest, a green-haired woman who went from friendly and kind to fiercely single-minded the moment they were behind closed doors, insisted Cynthia get her turn first. The blonde wasn't going to turn down an offer like that, and the moment she spread out on the bed, wearing only her coat wide open, she didn't regret that choice.

“Yes, right there!” she cried as the forest-wandering girl's tongue hit places that marked her as a very experienced girl. Two fingers to part her opening, another to frantically rub against the very top of her vagina, another two to tease the clit, and a tongue to do the rest of it. She knew her way around a vagina, and Cynthia was so happy for it.

Cheryl's legs were clutched shut, holding in place a vibrator she had that filled her up adequately and pulsated inside her. She moaned into the Pokemon league champion's pussy as she tried her best to get in a good rapport with her. A sultry blonde with so much experience? It would be an honour to make her orgasm hard on her tongue, to feel the fluids fill her mouth as she drank of such a respected woman. The thought helped her along, getting her even more horny as the vibe inside her shook.

Moans continued to escape the blonde's mouth as her hands grabbed hold of her large, round breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching the nipples. She licks her lips and thinks about how great it will be to go down on this girl at long last and reward her. Maybe she'll stick the vibrator up Cheryl's ass, see how that augments matters. Or maybe keep it in place and rim her, since she did hope to get to that on one girl rather soon. And maybe Cheryl, whose figure, now that it wasn't obscured by that damn dress, was rather attractive. Oh, she would definitely have to sink her teeth into that round, tight ass very soon.

Wasn't really an option. It was a need. An insatiable hunger driven by lust to fill her needs, to conquer whatever she set her mind to. And her mind was rather focused; every cute, sexy, adorable, hot—it didn't matter what adjective they fit—girl she set her eyes on. Forget Sinnoh. There lay countries out there she could indulge any carnal pleasure she so desired, and she would start by finishing off here in the Battle Frontier. And foremost, by devouring that rump.

Cynthia wasn't very forceful. Just a simple, “Turn around,” was necessary. Cheryl didn't need much coercion to listen to her. Readjusting herself on the bed, she had a prime position now. Cheryl's vibrator was still buried inside her, her tongue and fingers still working into the blonde perfect unison, and when a tongue entreated entrance at her rear, all she could do was give it a moan and a good shake.

The tongue licked the green-haired girl's plump ass eagerly, hands grasping the soft skin and spreading the cheeks for better access. She set to work devouring her ass hole, love and lust swirling around in an amalgam of pleasures and different techniques all at once on Cheryl, set strangely to the rhythm of the buzz made by her sex toy.

Any conquest. No girl was safe from her.


Cynthia/Mira

“Where did a girl your age learn stuff like this?” Cynthia groaned, head hung back. She had her legs entwined with a young girl, maybe a bit younger than Dawn, as between their pussies was a long, double-ended dildo the girl, Mira, had produced. They were close, equally taking in the plastic cock, and their pussies pressed together, rubbing with the motion of their hips, producing loud moans of pleasure from them both.

“I can stop, if you'd like.” She stuck her tongue out teasingly. “Some girl on Route 206 named Cassidy!” she felt the older woman's pelvis, complete with a nice trimmed patch of blonde, press against her hairless slit, and she threw her head back. Her long pink pigtails swayed back and forth in time with her hips and her head.

The feeling of a young girl already too far gone to be corrupted amazed Cynthia and made her wonder why this Cassidy couldn't have found Dawn, tribbed with her, and given her the double-ended dildo instead. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and Mira was still pretty damn good. And cute, too. She had a nice smile, and a bit of a bratty attitude that, paired with her hair and—when she was wearing them—clothes, made for a nice little combo and some sick appeal Cynthia knew she'd go to hell for being turned on by. Not that she cared too much about hell as her body moved and shifted, grinding against a girl so much younger than her while they rode her sex toy that reached so deep into both of them.

Mira's panties were cast to the side, white bikini panties with a little red bow on the top, and Cynthia was desperate to have those by the end of it. Keep a pair for every conquest, she decided, a little memento of each wonderful, thrilling fuck on her journey. Used, preferably soaked with juices, in case she got lonely and needed a little help. She already had Dawn's, Dahlia's, Marley's, and Cheryl's in her briefcase, and she was soon to seize Mira's, whether she liked it or not. The little bow on the top just sold it for her, and she knew she'd have them by the end of things.

Robbing a little girl's panties. Was there no length she wouldn't sink to?

Okay, bad question. No, there wasn't.

She pulled Mira into a deep kiss, lips locking and tongues dancing as they fucked each other harder, working up a steady rhythm of their bodies grinding against each other. The girl's small hands fumbled with Cynthia's tits as she took one of the nipples into her mouth and clumsily attempted to suckle it and knead the flesh with her hands. She may have had some experience with tripping and kissing—no doubt some oral, too—but she did not know her way around a pair of breasts, so Cynthia pulled her back up into a kiss. Bad pleasure wouldn't do her any good, while the taste of the girl's mouth, sort of fruity from whatever she had last drank, was a lot better for what they were doing.

It seemed she'd have to teach this girl something after all.