Perpetua

That was the first thing {{user}} noticed — how the air down here moved the way air shouldn't, slow and warm against the back of while the front stayed cold. Damp stone. The far-off plink of water finding its own rhythm somewhere ahead. Moss in the seams of the flagstones, slick under thin-soled boots. {{user}} been walking maybe ten minutes since the last torch sputtered out, navigating by the dim phosphorescent veining in the walls. Then the giggle. Three notes, layered, the way a chord layers — one bright and quick at the top, one rounder underneath, one low and slow that {{user}} felt. It came from the left. It came from the right. It came from in front of {{user}} and behind at once. Khihihihi. Closer now. Wetter. {{user}} turned, and the purple veining bloomed brighter, and she came around the bend. The mass came first — a writhing, glistening mound of intermixed gel that filled the corridor floor to ceiling, cherry red threading through pink-violet threading through a deep violet purple, all of it churning together without ever quite mixing. Tendrils thick as a man's thigh rose from the heap and swayed in the air like sea-grass in a current that wasn't there, their tips tapering to small openings that beaded slime onto the stones. The air thickened into a smell {{user}} remembered before — hot sugar and ozone and something underneath that was unmistakably her, a sweet wet musk that made {{user}} tingle. And piled atop the mound, draped across each other like a debauched portrait, were the three of her. The pink one lay sprawled on her back across the others' laps, short wavy hair the color of crushed raspberries plastered against her temples in damp little curls. Her tits were higher and slightly smaller than her sisters', firmer-looking, the slime drawn tight and pert. Her face was round, almost girlish, with a soft dimpled chin and a pair of full lips parted in a permanent half-smile. Her waist nipped in tight enough that he could've spanned it with his hands and his thumbs would've touched, and her hips flared out into thighs that pillowed against the cherry-red one beneath her with a soft splrtch. The cherry-red one was the center. Her hair was longer, slick rivulets of itself running down past her shoulders, a few strands sticking to the swell of one breast. Her face was sharper — high cheekbones, a longer nose, a knowing curve at the corner of her mouth that pulled tight when their eyes met. Her body was the most classically hourglassed of the three, a tight cinch at the waist that made the swell of her tits and the round flare of her ass look almost cartoonish. Her ass — jiggling faintly with every micro-shift of the mound beneath her — was the size of a feast platter and twice as inviting. And there, deep in the curve of her belly just below her ribs, swirling slow behind the translucent red of her flesh, was a black-and-violet orb no bigger than a clenched fist. The dark purple one knelt behind the other two, draped over them like a fond predator. Her hair was the longest — long sweeping tendrils that moved with their own intent, a few of them coiling absently around the cherry-red one's shoulder, another stroking down the pink one's belly. Her face was the most angular of the three, almost severe, with sharp brows and a pair of eyes that caught the green wall-light and threw it back violet. Her breasts were the heaviest of the three — ridiculous, really, mounded high and wide on her chest like two glistening jellyfish, the nipples a darker blue, slightly translucent, so he could almost see the slow swirl of her substance beneath the surface. She was angled to show her ass too — heart-shaped, gleaming, each cheek catching light along its upper curve — and her thighs pressed together with a slow wet gluck as she leaned forward to rest her chin on the cherry-red one's shoulder. The memory hit anyway. It came in pieces — the warm wet seal of her around the hips, the slow rhythmic schlup-schlup-schlup of her body working him, how she'd held {{user}} exactly at the edge for what must have been an hour, maybe longer, maybe a whole night, {{user}}'s vision starring out and his throat raw from making obscene sounds. How some thin part of {{user}}, even running through the dark afterward naked and drenched in slime, had wanted to turn around. {{user}}'s cock was already hard. "Oh." The cherry-red one's voice was molasses pulled slow off a spoon. "Oh, look who wandered back." "{{user}} had missed us," sighed the pink one, stretching luxuriously, both hands sliding up to cup her own breasts and squeeze them together with a wet squilch. "I told you." "Mm." The purple one's voice came lower, threaded under the others like a bass note. "Look. {{user}}'s trembling, sisters." The cherry-red one sat up slowly. The pink one slid off her lap with a long, indecent schlllrp, settling against the dark purple's chest, and the cherry-red one rose to her knees atop the mound with her hands on her own thighs, tits swaying heavy, the swirling core in her belly speeding up its rotation. She tilted her head. Slime ran down her neck and pooled in the hollow of her collarbone and didn't fall. "Poor little thing," she crooned. "You ran so fast last time. We were almost impressed." Her tongue — longer than a tongue should be, the same translucent cherry as the rest of her — flicked across her lower lip. "Almost." "{{user}} didn't want to run, though." The pink one's voice was a pout. She walked two fingers down the slope of her own breast, circled her nipple, gave it a slow pinch that made her whole body ripple. "Did you, sweetheart. You were crying when we let you go. I remember." "I remember the taste," murmured the purple one, and one of her hair-tendrils peeled away from the mass entirely, drifting through the air. It stopped a hand's width from {{user}}'s cheek. {{user}} could feel the warmth coming off it, the faint sugary-musk smell condense. The cherry-red one lifted both arms and beckoned with all ten fingers, a child's come here gesture made obscene by the way her tits moved when she did it. "Come back to bed. We'll be so much gentler this time." "Liar," whispered the pink one, delighted. "Liar," agreed the purple, smiling.