Totally Into Her by Bathynalia

“Gods, I hate this. Can you tell them I went to go throw up somewhere?” Quinn groans, sticking out her tongue in exaggerated disgust.

“If that is your wish, I will see it done,” replies Cam, in the similarly exaggerated tone of a royal vassal.

Quinn, sitting at the foot of a ratty couch, rolls her head back against its seat cushion. She used to straighten her hair, but doesn’t anymore. Tonight, it’s bunched up into two messy buns, showing off a sapphire underlayer and pentacle earrings. She usually doesn’t bother making herself up, but a party of loosely interconnected post-graduation friend groups full of people she hasn’t seen in years warrants full goth. Black dress, fishnets over leggings, platform boots. She’s here to make an impression—to show she isn’t such a prude anymore. More importantly, she’s here because Cam is here.

Cam, kneeled dutifully at Quinn’s side, looks like a nerd because she is a nerd. Her hair is buzzed short for practicality, but years of routine have gradually led to a balance that makes it just fluffy enough to be stylish. She is wearing square glasses, a button up, and slacks, because that’s what she usually wears, and because she likes it. She’s the one who’s actually kept in touch with people, but is less of a party person than her extroverted nature would suggest. Mostly, she’s here because Quinn expressed interest when she brought it up.

“Fine, Camelot, I’ll go” Quinn takes Cam’s hand, allowing the shorter, skinnier butch to pull her to her feet. “But you have to make up my truths and lies for me if we play any dumb icebreakers.”

“Hmmm, ‘I’m a powerful witch, my dick is huge, and all your dads owe me 20 bucks.’”

“None of that is true. Kiss my ass more, why don’t you.”

“If you insist, madam~” Cam kneels once more, and Quinn shoves her away, scoffing.

They’re both a little high, as are most of the partygoers. Tyler, the party’s host, insisted everyone take a brownie at just the right time for it to kick in at sunset, at which point they would move to the bonfire. Tyler is a meathead, but has a surprising knack for logistics. The firepit is so big that he must have spent all spring digging it, and the sunset provides just enough light that no one needs a flashlight to get to the backyard. The house is out in the boonies, its yard framed in trees and scrub. The world outside the sphere of firelight seems to fade into the darkening sky.

Most of the folding chairs have already been taken, so Cam and Quinn find spots side-by-side on a log.

“Oh hey, are you two finally together?” A woman in a jumpsuit that Quinn doesn’t recognize, but Cam seems to, nudges in next to them.

“Nah, I wouldn’t stand a chance,” Cam laughs it off, and Quinn raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s too busy trying to get me a boyfriend,” Quinn adds, truthfully. It’s a pattern of theirs. Quinn would say a guy was hot, Cam would bring her to an event like this, Quinn and the guy would hit it off, and the relationship would dissolve in a couple of weeks or months. Tyler was actually one of the first, and had the least hard feelings about it. As fate would have it, he’d conveniently reached the epiphany that locking down with a girl meant less bro time, and he couldn’t do that to the boys. Quinn didn’t have any hard feelings either. It was kinda sweet that he didn’t consider her one of the boys. Besides, being with him would have meant less time with Cam.

“Alright ev-ery-bo-dy!” Tyler paces around the bonfire, clapping his hands on each syllable, signaling everyone to wrap up their side conversations. He proceeds to launch into a rules explanation of what sounds like three different “hidden identity” games taped together, with roleplay, scavenger hunt, and subterfuge elements. Quinn follows along, Cam figures she’ll get it after a round or two. Tyler walks around the circle, passing out cards to everyone, stopping last at Cam and Quinn.

“Ah, okay, hey! Didn’t know you were gonna be here!” He gestures apologetically at Quinn. “You two don’t mind sharing, right?”

“That’s cool,” they say, simultaneously. Cam giggles, Quinn rolls her eyes and takes the card, though she can’t hide her smile.

Tyler glances back and forth between them, and the other girl nods knowingly at him. He mouths an “ohh” of realization and describes the next steps to the group. Each of them will break off on their own—Cam and Quinn acting as one entity, to look over their card and get acquainted with their characters and fulfill their first objective before returning, and will be called back after half an hour via air horn.

“So, where do we start—?" Cam tries to ask, but before she can finish, Quinn grabs her wrist and starts dragging her towards the tree line. The air chills quickly, embers replaced by fireflies, crackles fading to crickets. In another world, their peers’ chatter fades as they all find their own private stages.

“Cam, Camster. Camtelope. I need you to be honest with me.” Quinn grasps her friend’s shoulders forcefully. Cam’s heart pounds, her face heats up. Sure, she’s fantasized something like this countless times, but she never thought…

“Uh, yeah, me too-” she sputters.

Quinn nods. “Yeah, you noticed, right?”

“I, I think so?”

“Let’s say it on three.”

One,

Two,

Three-

They make identical confused faces, and each try to respond with repeated half-starts, until Cam manages to deflect.

“Yours was weirder, you first.”

“Yours was definitely weirder!”

“What do you mean getting bigger?”

Quinn takes the loss, and starts over, pinching her forehead and gesturing widely.

“I dunno, like, it’s weird, usually your head is like. Above my shoulder? And now you’re kinda…” She pinches her fingers together slowly.

“I mean, you’re wearing platforms, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeahhhh.” Quinn stumbles, as if the knowledge of her raised heel makes it harder to balance on.

“Also were like. Super high,” Cam reminds her.

“I’m not as bad as I could be. I can still remember stuff.”

“Yeah, I dunno. I got mine from that weird girl.”

“You didn’t have Tyler’s? Wait, hold on, no time for that. You said you were into me?”

“No!” Cam yelps. “I mean, maybe, but I asked if you were-”

“Maybe?” Quinn takes a step closer, and Cam startles as she backs into a tree.

“Well, I mean, you only ever seemed interested in guys, but when you said that boyfriend thing, you sounded. I don’t know, like that was the reason we weren’t a thing-”

“Uh, yeah, why would you wingman for me if you were into me?” Quinn moves in closer.

“Because you’re straight and I’m a good friend?” Bark digs into Cam’s back. She barely feels it.

“Cam-quat. I’m not straight.”

Their faces are inches apart. The woods may as well be silent, they only hear each other’s breath and the shuffle of their boots on twigs.

“Do you wanna…”

“Yeah.”

Quinn’s lips engulf Cam’s without even needing to part. Cam feels like she’s sinking into a cloud. She pulls Quinn closer, letting the bigger girl’s chest press around her own. The kiss deepens, and deepens, until finally Quinn pulls back, giggling more brightly than Cam is used to hearing.

“That’s, um, that was really…” Cam stutters.

“I figured it out!” Quinn squeals.

“Yeah, you-“

“I’m not growing, you’re shrinking! Look!”

Quinn stands fully, and Cam is unable to deny that even with Quinn’s boots, she should be eye to eye with her collar bone, not her chest.

“Oh my god, you’re a goddess,” Cam gasps.

“Do you wanna keep making out?” Quinn asks.

Cam sighs. “Goddess, yes,”

The dwindling butch stretches her neck out, lips puckered, eyes closed, and doesn’t connect with Quinn’s lips. Instead, Quinn takes Cam’s glasses, wraps a hand around the base of her neck, and shoves the shorter girl face-first into her cleavage.

“You’re sure making me feel like one… keep sucking up like that and… yeah just. Keep sucking up to me like that…”

If Cam hears any of that, it’s the word “sucking.” She paws at Quinn’s chest, and Quinn indulges, slipping out one tit. Cam plants a kiss on the goddess’s sternum, peck by peck working her way towards her areola. She can feel her own clothes starting to sag, her head full of beautiful static, all sensation clustering towards her face. She kisses over and over, mixing in licks, nuzzling, pressing herself as close to Quinn’s body as she can reach. Quinn’s nipple stiffens quickly in the night breeze, and Cam uses it to trace patterns on her cheek, takes it in her mouth, tugs eagerly. She knows she’s done well every time Quinn stumbles and pushes her down further. Every press is electric, the force seeping from the point of contact and spreading across her skin, wrapping around her, compressing her.

It’s getting harder for Cam to reach, and Quinn tucks her boob away again. She strokes a hand across Cam’s cheek.

“If you keep getting smaller like that… you’re gonna have to kiss my ass, wont you?” The words swirl from Quinn’s lips, and Cam swears she feels herself drop another few inches.

“Yes, ma’am…” she moans, dreamily.

“Like, actually?” For a moment, Quinn’s façade drops. As much as she’s playing the part, she didn’t ever expect to get so far. Let alone this far, in a single night. Not after their years of steady friendship.

But Cam is already pawing at her thigh over the skirt, pressing her face to Quinn’s belly, so needy that her voice cracks.  

“Please.”

Quinn feels like she can slow time by holding her breath, as if the wind moves with deep inhale and exhale. She glances around, suddenly self-conscious, but too eager to stop. She hikes up her skirt, and tugs her leggings down past her thighs. Bracing herself against the tree—her arm resting a foot above Cam’s head now—Quinn turns around and takes a step back.

Cam stares, barely able to move at first. Quinn’s cheeks were probably wider than her head to start with, probably more than twice as wide now. Her lavender cotton panties ride up her crack, and Cam envies them. She gulps and presses her lips against the cheek on her right, groping the left one in a desperate need to take in as much of Quinn’s rear as possible. She plants kiss after kiss, feeling the contours of every stretch mark against the creases of her lips.

She barely notices her own fingers fingers crawl up towards Quinn’s waistband.

"S-seriously?” Quinn asks up above. “You… you really wanna kiss my ass, that bad?” She’s astonished, but not at all opposed.

“Will it kiss me back?” Cam begs.

Quinn can’t help herself. Her friend—more than friend—is too fucking cute like this. She yanks her panties down and rams her hips back, stuffing Cam’s face as far in as it will go.

Another blissful shrinking shock goes through Cam. She finds herself up to her ears in no time. All sound is muffled by the thick flesh squeezing around her. And just at the tip of her nose, she feels an eager clench.

This is how she must worship her goddess.

Cam tips her head upwards, and begins to make out with Quinn’s hole. Just like with every other part of her they’ve touched so far, Cam’s lips feel out the texture, the ridges and valleys, soft hair tickling at her face. The scent of her is musky, heavy with pheromones, Cam moans deeply, so enrapt in her worship, her tongue slips out as well, circling the rim of her best friend’s asshole.

Quinn wasn’t surprised to be into this, but hadn’t anticipated just how good it would feel. Every flick of Cam’s tongue pulses through her like a wave. If she focuses, Quinn can even feel her little acolyte shrinking further, dwindling away every time she bucks her hips. She can’t help stroking herself, her cock pulsing in time with Cam’s syncopated, gasping rhythm. She doesn’t hear Cam’s muffled enthusiasm so much as she feels the vibrations of it, feeding into the pleasure loop. Her fingertips inch further and further down Cam’s back until the shrunken woman fits fully in her palm.

Cam luxuriates in the process. She chills as every garment slips off one by one, and it only makes her more eager for her goddess’s warmth. She slips deeper, past her shoulders, past her hips. She can take individual wrinkles between her lips now, and adds the dexterity of her hands to her cause. She can hardly envision a world outside of this anymore. It’s where she’s meant to be.

The goddess humps into one hand with increasing desperation, while the fingers of her other hand pull back, one by one, until all she needs is a finger to rub Cam’s body around her twitching hole. Cam can press her whole face into the middle of it now, and does so with unflinching readiness. Anything to bring her closer to her goddess, each hungry flex pulling her deeper, and deeper.

Neither of them can take it much longer. Quinn starts to spasm into her palm, Cam allows her arms to fold in, relenting to every needy pulse.

A half second after Quinn climaxes, a blaring horn pierces the air. The suddenness of it shocks her hard, manifesting as a powerful pumping, a dizzying relief as her whole body tenses, more cum pumping out of her than she can hold back with her fingers, splattering somewhere into the weeds. She pinches at her hole with her other hand, fishing for Cam’s legs, but doesn’t find them.

She can still feel her kicking away, though…

Oh.

Putting the pieces together, Quinn hastily wipes her hand off on some leaves and pulls up her underwear, leggings, and stockings. She never even looked at the damn game card. It was in her hands at some point, she must have dropped it at some point during… all that. She shakes ecstatically as she feels another eager wriggle from somewhere below. Just assume you’re a werewolf, Quinn thinks to herself, trying to right her gait as she stumbles out of the woods towards the bonfire. She has to stop and sit once or twice. Between the heels, the tension in her legs, and the toy continuing to work away inside of her, it’s a wonder she can keep her footing at all.

The girl in the jumpsuit from earlier catches her near the edge of the pit, and asks what happened to Cam. Quinn needs a moment to catch her breath.

“She, uh, had some nerd stuff to do. Probably won’t see her the rest of the night.” The afterglow is written all over her face, and the other girl smiles conspiratorially.

“I knew it. I just knew she was into you.”