Breakfast and Bred – The Synth, The Human, and the Grapefruit, by Dijkstrawoo

A two-hour writing challenge.
Content warning: food play, submissive anon, oral/anal sex, mistreatment of serving trays

It’s a late Saturday morning – 11:00 AM. You recall poignant, small bits of the night before. Everything is calm now, but you start remembering the last night in small, flashing memories. You still can’t believe that Swift actually fucking let you do that to him. Maybe he’d like something a little more wholesome today – it’s your first real day off in weeks.
Despite being a synth, Swift is what you’d call “not self-motivated”. He’ll gladly make food for you or clean or do anything for you if you gently ask him but asking him to do things like “actually wake up before you in the morning” or “be dominant in bed” is a bit of a Herculean task. However, where he certainly doesn’t fail is the bedroom, direction-giving, suggestion-making, or even little things like bouncing off of you in conversation. Regardless, though, you’d normally give him shit about it, but today is a bit of an exception.
You make him food so that you can surprise him with breakfast in bed, among other things. You plate up bacon, eggs, half of a grapefruit and a bagel with cream cheese on it, then carry it up to your room. He loves grapefruits, even without sugar. No, you can’t quite understand why.
Swift makes his presence known through yawning and stretching. You observe the muscular form that you simply can’t get enough of – an ass for days, but pecs, abs, lats, and biceps for nights. You’ve had a few “noncon play” romps based on him holding you down and having his way, and just seeing the strength that held you down makes you want more. However, today is a day for simple, gentle things. At first, you questioned his choice in color. There’s something warm and inviting about a black synth with a purple underbelly to you, now that you’ve had time to sleep it over, under, and inside.
The sleepy synth slowly scans the room, locking eyes on the food after brief glances at you. “So, uh… What’s the special occasion?”
“Not much, my guy. I wanted to surprise you and all. Let me break out the tray for you.” You pull the “breakfast in bed” tray from the closet – this isn’t exactly a new experience to either of you. After a bit of propping up the tray to his chest height, you place the plate on top. The big guy immediately begins to stuff his face after thanking you for the food, leaving his morning wood perfectly exposed. Not one to give up opportunities, you run down and grab your tactical grapefruit.
Swift immediately notices the smirk on your face as you come back up. “Babe, what are you doing?” You start to crawl under the covers. Like proper couples, you both leave your bits exposed, leaving morning wood wide open for harvest. Not even answering your question, you start rubbing the warmed, cored grapefruit half against his cock, juice dribbling down his cock as the hole you cut proves a little too small for the magnum dong attachment you both splurged on. You two got to test it out last night, but you’re craving to use this thing more. You also want to see him squirm a bit, as you know that he’s still sensitive from the part exchange yesterday.
Veiny, sensitive, faintly ridged and very, VERY thick, his cock practically impales the grapefruit as he gasps at the strangest feeling he’s had in years. He huffs out, bucking his hips a little into it.
“Ah ah ah, keep still, Swiftie. Tell me what you think.”
“I-it’s tight, t-textured, uh… Mmf…” You could tell it was starting to drive him nuts. His dick starts flexing under your grip as he just lays back, breathing quickening. You decide to squeeze the grapefruit half over the tip, twisting it as you stroke him, tasting the mix of musk and juice as you massage him.
“And? What else, Swiftie?”
He’s starting to buckle a little under your grip, tongue lolling out a bit. If you’re not careful, he might pop already. “I-it’s… Ah… I… F-fuck…” Yeah, he’s probably really close. Let’s knock one out.
“Yeah, you’re probably a little overwhelmed. Just cum as hard as you can and I’ll give you a moment to breathe.” You come out from under the tray, still working the grapefruit around his shaft as you start to kiss and bite him on the neck. Immediately, he pops as you feel the grapefruit pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse, then pulse one last time as he sharply exhales, squeaking and squirming as you twist it a little after. “Wow. That much left after last night, huh? Either way, thanks for the sugar, Hon.”
You reveal the grapefruit half, which somehow caught the majority of that sweet, sweet blast of cream. After looking inside and seeing the slurry of cum, pulp, seeds, and grapefruit juice, you decide to just start to drink it down like any ordinary glass of fruit juice. Swift stares at you the entire time, his shaft already rising again from that display. “Want a taste?”
“I-I, uh—” You immediately stop Swift as you motion to kiss and make out with him, letting him have a taste of it for yourself. Your saliva and his become one for this moment, as tastes of bacon, egg, grapefruit, and musky, sweet cum all become a medley you’ll not forget for a while. Not one to let a good moment draw too long, you pull away from his lips, a thick strand of saliva linking your mouths together despite all the tension in the room. With Swift a panting mess, you take the first word.
“How’s that for a wake-up call? Hah, I thought you’d like that!”
“A… A grapefruit? Where did you learn that?”
“Being a lonely college student teaches you a lot about what you can shove your cock into for a bit of fun, y’know.”
“It’s a wonderful idea, I’ll tell you that. You’re a great engineer.”
“That’s why they pay me, Swift.”
“Right… Do you want to get some snuggles out of the way?” Swift begins lifting up his breakfast plate, setting it to the side.”
“Your breakfast will get cold, though.”
“But you’re still hot.” The synth’s visor lights up with this cheesy “OwO” expression that you swear he only installed to make you giggle. It still works.
“Okay, okay, let’s cuddle.”
Knocking the tray out of the way and onto the floor of the bedroom, you start to hang over him. You knew what you were doing when you looked exclusively for synths that liked being tall and muscular, but his size difference over you is still gargantuan and intimidating. A mere dwarf in comparison to his amazing enhancements, you begin to snuggle and frot up against him. This is one of many moments with Swift that you wish could just last forever, yet time torturously moves forward.
You, being a man of taste, turn on an English version of Plastic Love by Mariya Takeuchi, a lovemaking song that you swear is practically the anthem of your robot-fucking brethren.
“Horny human.” “Smug synth.” You two, after needing to catch a breath, decide to just cut the making out for kinky nose-on-nose action that is simply too lewd for this world. After what feels like ten minutes pass, your synth notices something, then just smirks.
“Looks like you’ve sprung a leak, sir. I can fix it if you want.” You look down and notice your member, throbbing and needy, a string of precum stretching down about four inches from your shaft to his abs. You catch on, then respond.
“Sure – plug it up for me and call it an impromptu visit from the plumber.”
“Mama mia, you catch on fast. That’s a spicy meatb-“ You put a hand over his mouth.
“Knock it off, dork! You’re no Italian” Your breathy, low cackling, one of the few things that brings Swift more joy than anything, fills the room.
“Alright, alright – if I’m gonna stuff you, though, can you at least clean the grapefruit juice off of me?”
“Yeah, sure.” Your immediate motion is to get down in front of his cock, leaving your ass in full, arched view as you start lapping the grapefruit juice off of his cock. The now sticky substance cleans off with a sort of squeaky, skipping ease as you drag your tongue up and down the shaft, making sure to do a thorough job of getting around under the head once you work your way up to that. Clumsily knocking around his towering erection as if to tease him, he just grabs your head.
“Maybe I should start with plugging up this big mouth of yours.” You open your mouth as if to speak, and his immediate motion is to throat you down on it, holding you there for a few moments before pulling out, your neck bulging out a bit. That was immensely, immensely hot but now isn’t the time. You gasp as he lets you up for a breath. You opt against more blowjobbing, deciding instead to climb up and start giving little love bites on his neck. One of his few weaknesses, he responds by wordlessly grabs the lube from the nightstand, dribbles it over his cock, and starts to rub it over while you’re distracted trying to overwhelm him.
“I can do this fast, or I can do it slow.” Your hand closes over the synth’s jaw. “Let me handle it today, Swift.” Blushing and staring down at his member, he just nods.
You begin to grind your asshole against his shaft, gripping his hands as he grimaces, resisting thrusting forward. As you angle him in slowly, he feels his dick slowly pop into you. After about five minutes of groaning, grimacing, and shuddering, you bottom out on him. That big, sensitive head of his is beginning to work against him as he starts thrusting up into your depths.
“Hey. Hey. Slow your roll, big guy. There’s no race.” You kiss him on the cheek, beginning to ride up and down his shaft slowly. While he’s panting openly, you whisper little things like “this is the best investment we’ve ever made” and “I bet you won’t be able to go back to your old model” into his ears amid grunts, stifled grunts, and shaky, loose moaning.
Swift, still thrusting a little into you, grips down on your hands and just starts to buck in and out of you, using gravity to do the rest of the work. The big, clumsy cock head makes an imprint in your stomach as he does this, letting him feel his ego grow and grow at seeing how huge he is, your form acting as a mere cock-cozy for him.
You, getting close, begin to feel yourself grow weak as your control over the synth begins to shake and stifle. Your grip weakens, your bites are replaced by heady chuffing and grunts, your breaths condensing against his warm, smooth skin.
“Want me to take control, Anon? You look a little winded.”
“Yeah, sure.” The synth picks you up, still fully bottomed out inside you. One hand holding you by your back, another hand feeling at your tummy bulge, you see a bit of a smirk forms as this demure, shy look slowly transforms into a smug one.
“H-hey, buddy, not too rough, alright? I-I’ll bust really hard at this rate…”
“Isn’t that what you want?” He pins you down to the bed REALLY hard and feels your heart race through your veins. Basic little smidges of primal fear – something you both have grown to love. Nothing you’d make a kink out of, but little splashes certainly color up lovemaking.
He starts to collect some pillows from off the side of the bed, propping your rump atop enough pillows that your head is naturally aimed at his face, as if subtly telling you to consider who exactly is stuffing you here. You’ve always loved how simply he dominates you. Even taking a simple break from it for a grapefruiting session made your next time bottoming feel amazing. Rather than bottoming out into you, he instead opts to shallow thrusting, making sure to grind his head against your prostate and overwhelm you by a force that you both love.
“You know, for a guy that calls me DORK a lot, you sure know how to play bottom.”
“S-shut up, Swiiift…” Your quips are becoming colored by your immense pleasure as you lose out to your own body. An hour that feels like mere minutes pass as he continues to grind your insides into dust.
With fanfare, you feel your climax coming. Your body clenches, gripping down around his cock in spasming, twitching bursts, your hole practically commanding him to do the same not so much as mere seconds. You both let out heady, bestial grunts as Swift slows down, his dick pumping out a messy, goopy mess of cum into you. A bulge forms as this goes on, the pressure in your stomach increasing. Not a huge bulge, mind, but enough that you can’t see the outline of his dick anymore. Amid breaths of “that was amazing” and teasing your synth about how sensitive he is, you two both work out an “I love you” that the rest of the morning might as well have said for you.
Cum leaking from your hole, you two just sit together and take in the moment, his massive balls pulsing from mild overwork. Another morning passes, and soon you two decide to pass the rest of the day together like this. Amid breaks to shower, drink water, make food together, or make more love, you two instead binge-watch synth part advertisers and talk about what kinds of weird upgrades could be in your future together.
A day off well spent, you two fall asleep around midnight as another day of work waits you. With every day or two or three or thirteen, though, you know that there will always be days like this to ease your tension.

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Pub: 30 Dec 2020 13:33 UTC
Views: 860