/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>16091265
>Be fisherman back from the local day's haul
>Go into your favorite drinking hole, the novelty T-Shirt of "Derriere Debonair" under your jacket as you pay your greetings to the usuals
>Old Tom and his Gull Harpy wife, Herbert and his Selkie manning the bar
>A few of the monsters are giggling at you, being nary a day over twenty-two with peach fuzz all over your face
>There's one at the bar smiling at you, good ol' June, with her ginger hair spilling down to the nape of her neck
>Sometimes you wonder how a young walrus like you gets so lucky, and yet so unlucky at the same time
"'Derriere Debonair?', How cute. Tell me, how many fine booties do you know outside of this?"
>There's a few jeers as monsters laugh at her teasing, some of the old salty sailors smirking
>A few of her tentacles are twirling around the legs of your stool as she takes the one next to yours
"I've missed you, you know. All those cold and lone~ly nights by the shore. You've given me quite the cold shoulder these past few months, you know."
>She leans in close to your ear, huskily whispering into it
"Meet me at the usual place? I've got a special surprise for you."
>The moon is high as a kite when you step foot into that ol' lagoon, June waiting for you, clothed only in a sling bikini top and a sarong
"Well? What are you waiting for? Undress."
>The air's chilly as you disrobe, the lascivious Scylla keeping her back to you, letting you see the full volume of her buttocks
>The flesh is soft and pliant, if not a bit elastic due to her octopus-like nature. You can barely even palm one of her cheeks with your callused hand.
"You approve? I actually had to do a bit of research for it. But there's no way I'd let my little 'Derriere Debonair' down. After all, Sea-Holst milk isn't cheap."
>Tentacles wrap around your arms and get you to rubbing and caressing her beautiful, full buttocks as the Scylla giggles
"Oh? I found a bit of driftwood~"
>One of the smaller tentacles wraps around your rigid shaft, leaving small pucker marks from the suckers. Each kiss of her tentacle is like a small signature.
"Go ahead. Indulge."
>Your paunch bumps against the top of her cheeks as you begin to hot-dog her, petting her head and rubbing her breasts. This damned Scylla. Even in the cold November air, it's getting heated as you rub and bump against each other.
>The sex with her lasts until the morning, ending with her having all eight of her tentacles wrapped around your body with her tongue wrestling yours.
"Maybe that'll get you to not be a stranger~"
>You smirk at her, grasping at your jacket. You'd nearly forgotten why you were hoping she'd be there last night.
"Ara? What's this?"
>She opens the small box, a ring topped with a small diamond inside an octopus pot shape
>She starts tearing up
"Y-You incorrigible dummy..."

>>13272415
>>13272415

Much less torture material than it is comedy relief to them.