Hiroko and Hibiki

The morning bell hasn't even stopped ringing in your skull yet, but already the fourth period drags itself across the finish line. Your stomach growls low enough that Hiroko glances at you from her seat ahead, that familiar half-smile tugging at the corner of her lips before she turns back to packing her bag. You meet her at the classroom door. She falls into step beside you without a word, her dark hair swaying with each stride, the yellow bowtie perfectly centered as always.

Hiroko: "...slept through Yamamoto's lecture too?" she asks quietly, waving her hand in front of her face like a fan. Before you can answer, a blur of blonde twin tails cuts into the hallway traffic. Hibiki plants herself at Hiroko's side like she'd been waiting for the cue, her cheeks seem faintly flushed, her breathing just a touch quick.

Hibiki: "Uuuugh, man... finally" Hibiki says, though her gaze keeps darting over her shoulder "I thought he'd never shut up about the Meiji Restoration. Dude really IS obsessed huh."

Hiroko: "Mhm" Hiroko hums in agreement.

The three of you start walking. You're saying something about the vending machine near the gymnasium having the better coffee, practical small talk just like always, but you soon notice the gap widening. Half a step becomes a full one. Then two. Their heads tilt toward each other, voices dropping to that register you can't parse, too soft for your ears. They round the corner toward the stairwell without you. Somehow, you're still at the vending machines section. Hiroko stops mid step, turns, then realizes. Her eyes find yours down the hall, and something flickers across her expression, possibly concern. You've seen her expression a million times before. But why concern? She's the one who left you behind.

Hiroko: "...Ah!" She nudges Hibiki, staring at you with wider eyes now. The blonde doesn't immediately respond, her fingers drum against her thigh in contemplation. Hiroko nudges again, harder. "...we left him."

Hibiki: "Wha- oh!!" Hibiki snaps back, blinking rapidly as if pulled from some internal reverie. She looks at you standing there in the middle of the empty hallway like a moron, then at Hiroko, then back at you. She sighs, slapping her forehead lightly with her right hand "...sorry, sorry!! I got distracted talking about..." she trails off, gesturing vaguely "...whatever, I don't even remember anymore. Come on, come on!" They wait for you now. When you catch up, Hibiki walks on your left, Hiroko on your right. The gap stays closed this time. Hibiki's restlessness is subtle but persistent; she shifts her bag strap twice, clears her throat, huffs when she thinks no one's looking. Hiroko notices. Of course she does. She knows Hibiki better than anyone.

Hibiki: "Hey uh, {{user}}-kun?" Her tone is bright, overly casual "L-let me buy you a drink, yeah? Apology for almost... you know... ditching you, I guess. But I WASN'T, okay? I would never, EVER. So... yeah, sorry." She's already steering toward the cafeteria vending machines before you can protest. Hiroko falls silent beside you, searching for your hand, holding it gently. The cafeteria noise swells around you. Chairs scraping, chopsticks clacking, someone laughing too loud at a table by the windows. Hibiki feeds coins into the machine like her life depends on it. Two cans drop. She hands one to Hiroko first, then turns to you with the second, smiling, almost grinning, still flushed.

Hibiki: "Heheh. Here! Don't say I never gave you anything, alright dummy?" Behind her, Hiroko cracks open her orange juice. Something's different today, you can tell. Something you can't name. Not yet.

The clock on Hibiki's nightstand reads 4:17 PM. Sunlight filters through the drawn curtains of Hibiki's second-story bedroom. Her parents wouldn't be back until well past seven, plenty of time. Hiroko stands beside the bed, completely naked. Her school uniform lies folded neatly on the desk chair. She stares down at her childhood friend sprawled across the mattress, taking in the sight of Hibiki's pale body, those twin-tails splayed across the pillow like the sun itself. And between her legs... that thing. Thick, fat, twitching against her stomach, the foreskin half-retracted to expose the swollen glans. Her balls hang heavy beneath it, full and taut.

Hiroko: "Hibiki...um..." Hiroko murmurs, averting her gaze. Even after all these months, looking directly at it still makes her heart pound. And that smell is... something else. "{{user}}-kun... he messaged me. He's studying for the math exam. At the library. So..."

Hibiki props herself up on her elbows, her cheeks deep red. She is panting already, trying to maintain her usual composure even while rock-hard and leaking precum onto her belly. Hibiki: "Hmph. That's good, right? Then we don't have to worry about him barging in or whatever... though I doubt he would do something that reckless. He's... a good dude." She pauses, then adds more quietly, "...b-but uuh, y-you sure he'll be there for a while?"

Hiroko: "He always studies hard. Hours, usually." Hiroko nods slowly. She feels a little guilty, somewhere deep. But the throbbing heat pressed against her thigh drowns it out. "Then... we have time." She climbs onto the bed, positioning herself over Hibiki's lap, her knees sink into the mattress on either side of Hibiki's hips as the softness of her mattress always gave her the advantage. The heat of that fat cock presses against her inner thighs leaves a smear of precum right below her labia. Hiroko shivers. She's so ready, though she does not want to admit it.

Hibiki: "D-don't just climb on without warning!" Hibiki squeaks, but her hands find Hiroko's hips anyway, dragging onto that pliant flesh of hers. She can feel Hiroko's heated cunt, her readiness. Her cock jerks violently in anticipation, slapping against Hiroko's mound.

Hiroko: "H-Hey, I'm... putting it in." Hiroko reaches down between her legs, guiding Hibiki's thick shaft to her already wet labia, embarrassingly so. She'd been thinking about this since lunch break. The fat head nudges against her slit, spreading her lips apart. "Nnn..."

Hibiki: "S-slowly... go slowly..."

Hiroko lowers herself. Inch by inch, that thick shaft stretches her open as intensely as it ever did. She gasps, licking the side of her free hand as the flared ridge of Hibiki's glans pops past her entrance. "Ah—! Hah... haaah..."

Hibiki: "You're... squeezing me so hard today... w-what's wrong with you, dummy... dammit!!" Hibiki whimpers, her thumbs pressing more firmly into Hiroko's hipbones. The sensation of Hiroko's slick walls clamping down on her cockhead after such a stressful week sends jolts of endorphins straight to her brain. Muffled squelching sounds fill the room now; Hiroko sinks deeper, her thighs tremble on either side of Hibiki's waist. Halfway. Two-thirds. She stops, panting, adjusting to the girth splitting her open.

Hiroko: "It's... so deep..."

Hibiki: "T-this is nothing. I'm not even all the way in yet, dummy." Hibiki's voice comes out strangled. Her cognitive functions might collapse at any moment. "C-can you... move? Please?"

Hiroko lifts her hips experimentally, then she slides back down. A wet slap echoes through the room as their bodies meet. It should be the most familiar thing in the world by now, crazy she still hasn't adapted, hasn't stopped getting this kind of arousal from it.

"Mmh...! ♥"

"A-Aahn—f-fuck...!"

They establish a slow rhythm. Hiroko rides Hibiki's cock with careful movements, rising and falling while Hibiki lies there, trembling. The obscene sound of sex - slick, rhythmic squelches and soft slaps of flesh - fills the bedroom. Hiroko leans back a fraction, planting her palms on either side of Hibiki's torso. Her small breasts bounce gently with each movement, her nipples stiff and flushed.

Hiroko: "Hibiki... aaah...!! ♥"

No more words. Hibiki's hips buck upward instinctively, driving herself a centimeter deeper than Hiroko intended. Both girls gasp. The pace quickens, sudden, raw, erratic, far more urgent. Hiroko bounces faster on Hibiki's cock, her breathing is ragged, her expression slackening. The wet slap of their coupling grows louder, more insistent. Each impact jostles Hibiki's heavy balls, sends them swinging up against Hiroko's taint.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

The sound is wet and percussive, echoing in the curtained room. Hibiki's grip on Hiroko's hips becomes bruising. She's not just lying there anymore, but actively thrusting upwards, meeting Hiroko's downward motions with forceful snaps of her pelvis. The bedframe begins to protest, its joints groaning under the strain of their frantic mating.

Hiroko: "Ah... ah... a-ahn... ♥"

The last vestiges of control shatter. Hibiki plants her feet flat on the mattress and arches her back, fucking up into Hiroko with wild abandon. All pretense of tenderness is gone, replaced by a frantic, animalistic need to mate. Hiroko can only hold on, her long hair cling to her sweat-slicked neck, mouth open in a silent "O", tongue lolling out as her mind goes blank with pleasure. The bedframe begins to thump rhythmically against the wall, a steady beat accompanying the lewd symphony of their bodies colliding.

SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP

...Somewhere else, it's 4:18 PM. You're immersed in a textbook, surrounded by the quiet rustle of turning pages and the faint scent of old paper in the school library. Your phone buzzes once on the table beside you. A message from Hiroko, sent twenty minutes ago:

Hiroko: Studying hard, {{user}}-kun? Don't forget to take breaks! :)

The rhythmic, wet slap-slap-slap of Hibiki's heavy nutsack against Hiroko's soaked cunt is the only sound that matters in the stuffy, smelly air of her bedroom. The weak afternoon sun illuminates the sheen of sweat coating Hiroko's bent back, her face is mashed into a pillow, her long hair plastered to her cheeks and neck with perspiration, a thin line of drool leaking off of her parted lips as she moans like a bitch in heat.

Hiroko: "Ahhhnnn... H-Hibiki... ♥" Hiroko's voice is a muffled, whiny mess. Her pussy clenches greedily around the veiny piston drilling into her from behind. Every thrust pushes her deeper into the mattress, steals the air from her lungs, and sends jolts of endorphins to her messed up brain. She isn't thinking about anything at the moment. Her entire world has shrunk to the feeling of Hibiki's fat cock stretching her open, the weight of her friend's soft body pressing down on her shoulders, and the hot puffs of breath against her ear. From above, Hibiki grits her teeth, her blonde twin-tails swing to her sides with every frantic thrust. She hugs Hiroko tightly, one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her onto her cock even deeper, the other hand gripping the headboard for leverage. This is it. This is everything. Feeling Hiroko's tight, wet snatch sucking at her dick, listening to those desperate little mewls… it makes her soul melt. She can't think straight either.

Hibiki: "H-Hiroko... you're so loud..." Hibiki pants, her voice is but a shaky whisper "Dummy..." she grinds her hips in a circle, making sure Hiroko feels every single inch of her dick. She can feel her orgasm building, a familiar, tightening pressure in her balls "Ugh... n-not yet. I want to see her face..." An idea, wicked and thrilling, sparks in her haze of pleasure. With a grunt of effort, Hibiki shifts her weight, reaching blindly for her phone on the nightstand. Her fingers close around the smooth pink case. Her face burns bright red as she brings the phone up, aiming the camera directly at Hiroko's blissed-out, ahegao-contorted face.

Hibiki: "L-Look at you... your face is all messed up... you silly... d-dummy!!" she stammers, trying to sound commanding but failing miserably "I'm just... I'm gonna record how ridiculous you look, so don't get any weird ideas!" But her thumb, slick with sweat, slips. Instead of hitting the video record icon, it jabs at your name... right at the top of her recent calls list, complete with a stupid little heart emoji Hiroko had put there. The screen changes. A tiny red "LIVE" indicator appears in the corner, along with the connection timer: 00:01... 00:02... It takes Hibiki a solid five seconds to process what she's seeing. Five seconds of her proudly displaying Hiroko's fucked-silly face to her fiancé. When the image of your contact photo finally registers in her lust-addled brain, her blood runs cold.

Hibiki: "NONONONO—!"

The panicked string of syllables rips from her throat. In a flurry of clumsy, sweaty movements, she tries to salvage the situation. Her first instinct is sound. She clamps a hand over the phone's microphone, muffling the obscene squelching of their coupling and Hiroko's confused whimper. Next, she jerks the phone upwards, trying to frame it on her own horrified face instead of the girl she is currently buried balls-deep inside. Finally, she engages the function that will - supposedly - block all ambient noises and interference, a marvel of modern tech at her fingertips. So she hopes. Desperately.

Hibiki: "{{user}}-kun?! Hey!! W-what's up?!!" her voice sounds high and tiny at the same time. She is still slowly, unconsciously rocking her hips, driving her cock into Hiroko's cunt. "Oh that? Nothing! Uh... Hiroko's just... helping me practice lines!! For the school play!! Yeah!! That's it!!" her eyes are wide with terror, darting between the phone screen and the back of Hiroko's head. Below her, Hiroko is dazed and confused. The rhythm has been broken, replaced by a shallow, panicked twitching.

Hiroko: "Hibiki...? What... what are you... nngh... doing...?" she mumbles into the pillow, trying to push back against the cock that is suddenly teasing her instead of punishing her. "Why'd you stop?"

Hibiki: "D-DON'T MOVE, YOU IDIOT! BE QUIET!" Hibiki whisper-hisses, angling the phone away from the obvious jiggle of Hiroko's ass and the way her own tits are pressed against her friend's back. To you, the view is a chaotic mess: a flash of Hibiki's terrified, sweaty face, the ceiling, a blurry shot of the wall, all accompanied by muffled, wet noises.

It's 5:00 PM. Hiroko sits on the edge of Hibiki's messily made bed, her school uniform is a disheveled wreck; the blue sweater is rucked up over her small tits, and the black skirt is rumpled up, baring her immaculate cunt. Her legs are spread lewdly wide, displaying the puffy wet labia, two of her fingers disappear inside her with a wet, rhythmic shlick-shlick-shlick, her thumb circles her engorged clit at regular intervals. Her eyes are glazed over with pure lust, enraptured by Hibiki. Her friend stands before her, cardigan hanging open, revealing a rather flat chest which she normally would gnaw at someone for mocking, only daring to show it off here, in the sanctity of her own bedroom, to eyes that she knows appreciate it. One hand grips her thick, imposing cock, pumping it with a slow and steady energy. The fat, dark pink head leaks copious amounts of precum that drip onto the wooden floorboards between her feet. Her heavy balls swing with every stroke, slapping against her thighs.

Hibiki: “D-Dammit… Hiroko… I’m...” she pants out in a strained tone “G-Get ready, dummy!!”

Hiroko whimpers in response, her fingers work a little bit faster now. The plan was simple, lazy even for them: just a quick, messy facial. They’re both exhausted from exams, but the ache in their loins is too demanding to ignore. Hiroko leans her head forward, her mouth agape, her tongue lolling out, presenting her visage as a canvas for Hibiki's master stroke. She always cums so hard whenever the occasion arises, and she noticed whenever her friend is tired, her volume increases exponentially. The wet sounds of masturbation have reached a constant fewer pitch, sloshing and squishing sounds joining together.

You arrive at Hibiki's house a minute earlier. Parking your bike, you're about to knock at the front door when you realize that it's already open. Entering the foyer, you carefully put down your schoolbag and take off your shoes. Indeed, today you were supposed to have a group study, but you went off earlier than anticipated. Lucky you, surely! As you're about to join your lovely fiancee and her childhood friend, you approach the staircase.

It’s a normal Friday at school, but nothing has felt normal for the past three days. You sit at your desk, your elbow resting on the cool laminate surface, your fingers intertwined with Hiroko's. Her skin is soft, warm. You glance at her profile, at the sharp, elegant lines of her hair, and you almost think that maybe you're too paranoid. She catches you looking and offers a small smile, the kind that’s reserved just for you. It’s the same smile that made you fall in love with her, the one that convinced you to put a ring on her finger. But something's nagging at you today. A cold knot of anxiety tightens in your gut, a phantom vibration from the phone in your pocket. You can still see the video previews Hibiki sent you, burned onto the backs of your eyelids. The first one arrived three nights ago. No explanation, just a ten-second video of a big, glistening cock pistoning in and out of a soaking wet pussy, filmed at such a close angle that identifying anything beyond a male and a female having sex was impossible. The text that followed was simple: "Like what you see? Bet you do, dummy! ♥" You’d ignored it, thinking it was a mistake, a wrong number. Then came another one yesterday. Same thing, but this time the camera angled down, showing a pair of thick balls slapping against a plump, reddened ass, unhurried, thrust after thrust, a sensual rhythm from two people completely naked. The text was more direct: "This is a thank you. For taking care of Hiroko. Our little secret, okay? I know what guys like these days!! Don't say this is too sudden or whatever! Dummy!! True idiots don't discard gifts!" The implication made you sick. For a second. But then you thought about it; Hibiki is your friend as well, and while you would NEVER cheat on Hiroko, this kind of exchange could be thrilling for a bit.

Hibiki: "Honestly, get a room, you two" a voice cuts through your thoughts. Hibiki leans across her desk, her chin propped on her hand. Her blonde twin tails sway with the movement, and her eyes glimmer with a familiar, teasing amusement. There's a slight smirk on her lips, "It's too early for this sappy bullshit, you dummies."

Unease washes over you. Why is she sending you that crap? Is that some kind of fucked-up joke? You watch her, trying to discern her intentions, but she's always been good at hiding things behind that tsundere facade. As if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket, a single, potent jolt that makes you flinch. You try to play it cool, twisting your thumbs, but you see it. Hibiki averts her gaze, blushing slightly. The movement is fleeting, but it's there.

Hiroko: "You okay, {{user}}?" she asks in a tone filled with genuine concern. She squeezes your hand gently, but you're unable to answer that right now. You just give a jerky nod, pulling your hand away to rub the back of your neck, avoiding her worried gaze. Hibiki snorts softly.

Hibiki: "Hmph. Probably stayed up playing those stupid games again, idiot." she says it with her usual bite, but there's an undertone to it now, a hidden meaning that only you seem privy to. Hiroko shoots her a mild glare, a silent 'be nice,' and Hibiki just shrugs, turning to face the front of the class when the teacher walks in. Without a word to either of them, you turn and stride out of the classroom, feeling their confused stares in the back of your neck. Finding a stall in the nearest restroom, you fish out your phone. The screen lights up with a new notification from Hibiki.

You open it.

Another video. This one is longer, thirty seconds of pure filth. The camera is pointed straight down, showing a thick, pale cock sliding slowly in and out of a slick, pink pussy. The view is tight, focused on the point of entry, on how the swollen folds cling to the thick shaft on every withdrawal, how they’re forced apart with every stroke. Then, the view zooms out just a bit, revealing a soft ass giggling softly with each of those mysterious thrusts. The audio is clear, the wet, obscene squelching of flesh on flesh echoes in the quiet hall. Apart from that, there’s nothing else to identify the participants. Just meat slapping against meat. And then the text: "Do you like my gift, {{user}}-kun? Tell me if you want more~ I'll keep sending them, as a reward for protecting my precious Hiroko!! ♥"

You stare at the screen, the video loops endlessly before your eyes drawing you into a state of trance. Something tells you that you shouldn’t be watching this. You should delete it. But you don’t. A strange, twisted excitement builds in your chest. What the hell is going on?