Well, I decided to post a full version, in the end. So there you go!
Held to his word
It was nearly a week after, and something had changed. Even Chikara and Michiko noticed. An uneasiness of sort had settled between Iori and his partner. Armadimon always seemed to be the only one, beside Miyako, who could truly break through the boy's shell, but Iori had been growing more silent over the last few days, and neither parents were sure what to do about it. Chikara doubted prune juice could help. If he forced more down his grandson's throat, there might just be adverse effects.
The intimate events between himself and his partner had left Iori confused. Not so much about his own sexual orientation (he had been confused about that for a while) as to how this was going to affect them. They were soul mates, a fact Iori had accepted a long time ago. Armadimon was a part of who he was, and vice-versa. What the boy wasn't sure about was whether he could love his partner... Differently. Of course, he wasn't sure he was supposed to in the first place, hence his confused state of mind.
Iori felt he had to deal with this himself. After all, this was just another example of stuff he could hardly explain to people around him, not even Daisuke. What could he say? "I couldn't sleep, so my partner went down on me?" The mere thought made him snort. He had made it a point to avoid discussing what had occurred with his partner, and the digimon in turn had respected that wish, even though Iori could tell how much it cost him. Armadimon was still his jocular, easy-going and nap-loving self, but the silences between them were growing deeper, and neither liked it. Right now the absence of dialogue was culminating in a one-sided exchange as the digimon tried to catch the attention of his homework-busy partner.
He did not normally do such a thing out of respect for his partner's dedication, but the situation had several advantages in his favour. First, Iori sat to do his homework and never got up until he was done. Second, he usually went into a state that Armadimon could only describe as "hypnotic", and would give a quick, but frank answer to just about any question. What worried the digimon the most was that his partner was still ignoring his efforts to talk to him.
"Iori, stop that!" he implored. "It's going to destroy us! Do you want me to go Gabumon on you or what?"
The teen gave a sigh. That his partner at least acknowledged his attempts rekindled Armadimon's hopes.
"Please..." he pleaded. "Talk to me."
"I'm doing my homework," the boy stubbornly answered.
Armadimon grinned. His partner had talked. Victory was practically his.
"Oh! Come on!" he protested. "Do you really believe I would interrupt you if I didn't think it was important?"
Iori turned toward the mammal digimon to answer, and then immediately fixated his gaze back on his geography homework.
"Right. But I don't want to talk about it," he said flatly.
Armadimon groaned. That was going to be harder than he'd thought. He decided for an oblique approach.
"Well, let's talk about something else then," he continued "You haven't kept your promise, dagya."
Iori blinked.
"What are you talking about?"
Armadimon gave the teen a hurt look.
"Don't you remember? You said you wouldn't let something like that happen again."
Iori's pulse quickened and he could feel the blood rush to his face. He had not really forgotten about it, but he had hoped the digimon would not bring it up.
"What...? How...?" he stuttered. "How do you know?"
Armadimon rolled his eyes at his partner.
"Think about it Iori! I can smell food a hundred yards away and I could track you across the city if I wanted to, dagya. I tasted you. You think I wouldn't know if you had done it?"
Iori's blush deepened some. Armadimon couldn't help but chuckle at this. Seeing his partner uncertain and blushing was so rare it felt good to know he had still something of a normal teen in him.
"I won't say I haven't had the time. It's more like... I haven't found a good time."
Now it was Armadimon's turn to blink.
"This whole thing is making me feel like..." Iori hesitated, "like I'm losing control. Ever since our adventures in the Digital World, I've yearned for nothing more than some stability, but I was denied that. If I can't keep control over that little aspect of my life, how am I to find some firm ground in the future?"
Iori looked down at himself and the slight tenting in his pants with shame. Just talking about it was causing a reaction. Armadimon let out a sigh of understanding.
"So this is it? Oh... Iori... You're getting it all wrong!" he chastised playfully. "It's not about controlling your tensions, it's about releasing them so that they don't cause you to lose control completely, dagya."
Iori gave the digimon a weak smile.
"Maybe you're right."
With that comment he resumed working on his homework, but Armadimon was determined to go all the way with it.
"I'm still waiiiitiiiiiing," he drawled.
To his great amusement, it took Iori a few seconds too much before understanding the matter. Then the blush returned just as quickly as it had disappeared, stronger then ever, and he turned toward his partner with a panicked look.
"What? Here? Now?"
Armadimon grinned.
"Why not? Now's as good a time as any, dagya," he stated.
"Are you crazy?" Iori was holding back his yelling. "My mother and grandfather are in the other room. They could walk in anytime!"
The digimon shook his head.
"Uh uh! No way. You told your mother you were doing your homework, and she'd never dare interrupt. She'd be more likely to give you a call on your cell phone if something really big happened."
The boy sighed. The worst about it was how right his partner was. Armadimon would not let go anytime soon. Iori wanted to smack himself for walking right into that one. The digimon chuckled at his partner's dilemma.
"I can still provide some... incitement, you know," he offered.
Iori sweatdropped. His partner was probably serious about it. The boy looked away as he talked.
"I... don't think we should continue down that path, Armadimon... I'm sorry."
To his surprise, the digimon smacked his forehead with a yellow paw.
"Oh Iori... You really don't get it, do you? As nice as it was, I do not expect it to repeat itself, and I don't think you should either. Remember what Chikara-san says about kendo?"
"That others can help you, but only what you're doing yourself is really changing things," Iori blurted out.
"See? I can get you started and help once in a while, but the rest is, if I dare say so, in your hands, dagya."
Armadimon chuckled at his own wordplay and Iori had to swat him lightly on the head.
"Besides, I don't even need to go that far," the armadillo added almost as an afterthought.
"What do you... mean..."
Iori's question dissolved into a gulp. His partner had flipped onto his back, revealing a purple underside. The digimon curled over and nuzzled lightly at his sheath and tight ballsack with his nose. The boy could see the digimon's crinkled asshole right under the smooth scrotum. Coaxed out by the gentle nudging, the creature's penis emerged and rapidly grew to a full 4 inches. It was almost cylindrical and ended in a wrinkled, concave surface, as if maintained so by internal suction. A slight bulge of flesh marked the edge of the extremity and was the only thing comparable to a glans. It was almost entirely smooth, lacking the veins so prominent on Iori's own member, although it was slightly curved outward. The color of it was a flat shade of yellow, much like a banana, and the skin was streaked with darker marks the color of tea stains. The bright purple of the surrounding skin made it stand out like a lone dandelion in the middle of a well-kept lawn.
Armadimon gave the transfixed boy a sly look and grinned. His plan was working to perfection. He gave a sniff and the familiar cocktail of raw cotton, sesame oil and buckwheat filled his lungs. A clashing tinge of urine was also present, but Armadimon was used to it and was not going to let that deter him. The digimon wrapped his tongue around the tip and shuddered lightly as he gave a long lick along the sensitive edge, the feeling setting off prickles of pleasure. He then shoved his tongue in the member's crater-like top, licking it clean of the piss and secretions before lapping at the end, making as much noise as possible (though still not enough that Michiko would wonder what was going on) to get his partner into gear.
Iori could not miss Armadimon's goal either, and he knew his was a lost cause at this point, and he might as well give up. With a mild blush, he arched up in his chair to slip his pants down his leg. They fell to the ground with a faint sound, revealing a pair of loose, sky blue and black-trimmed briefs. The movement caused his chair to rollback and he almost fell on the floor, managing to catch himself on the desk. The fabric outlined five inches of growing arousal that were only made more obvious when he sat back. Iori stroked uneasily at his hardening member through the clothing, which caused Armadimon to stop his self-pleasuring so he could give his partner a good-humored glare.
"Come on! It's not like I haven't seen you naked, and even willing before!" he exclaimed.
With a curt nod, Iori grabbed the two sides of the underwear's front fold and pulled his member through the fly. Armadimon's face brightened in understanding. He returned his attention to his own needy penis and slid his lips around it, collecting the dripping precum on his tongue and swallowing the salty liquid. The digimon continued to lick and slurp as he slowly moved his mouth up and down the shaft, until his lips reached the sheath, at which point the tip of his member was sliding down his throat. Armadimon hummed, the vibrations further stimulating the flesh in his throat and making him close his eyes with satisfaction.
Iori watched in utter amazement, having never imagined before that this was an usual occurrence for his partner. The teen joined his thumb and index into a ring wrapped over the foreskin that covered his cock's head, and moved them rapidly up and down over the edge. The undefinable sensation encouraged a faster movement.
Here I am, masturbating in front if my best friend, a creature from another world practicing autofellatio, to keep a promise I made, he though.
The absurdity of the situation made him smile and he completed it with Just another day in the life of a chosen child.
Iori continued to move his fingers over the sensitive past of his member. The retreating foreskin often revealed a bit of purplish skin underneath. A clear pearl of precum was pushed out and spread by contact with the closing and opening skin.
Armadimon spit his own member out for a few seconds and suggested: "Try using your whole hand."
Without really thinking, Iori wrapped his hand around the member and began pumping his fist up and down the length. The broader movement revealed most of the glans to the brute light of his desk lamp. Extra precum spread around as the boy's less and less controlled movement uncovered more of the head. The hot member throbbed lightly in his hand. Iori's eyes closed and he inhaled sharply at the increased feeling when the skin slipped over the edge and rubbed back over it.
Armadimon continued to stimulate his own member. He had brought his paws around and begun kneading at his ballsack. The strange sensation of pressing against the balls inside only serving to make his penis harder. His mouth moved with practiced ease from the top of the sheath until his lips were just brushing the bulging edge of his member, each movement serving to increase the tension building inside. His tongue slavered over the smooth skin and saliva down and wetting the skin of his sheath and balls.
He opened his eyes to look at his partner. Iori was busy with himself and he could now conclude with a complete peace of mind in that the boy would finish on his own alright. Armadimon's head lurched forward and the oversensitive member slid down to the sheath inside. He did not stop there and, opening his mouth further, forced the end of his penis firmly down his throat as his lips parted to allow entrance to the bulging edge of his sheath. His member gave a slight twitch, dribbling liquid down his throat. The digimon shoved his tongue inside the sheath and moved it around, stimulating a normally hidden part of the reproductive organ.
It was like electroshock. Armadimon's balls pulled tightly as the very liquid and buckwheat-flavoured semen poured into his throat. The orgasm continued for interminable seconds until, with a final, weak twitch, a last spurt trickled from his meatus. Still licking to clean up, Armadimon let the softening member flop out of his muzzle and retreat back to its hidden location. He shuffled himself back on his legs and sat to observe his partner.
Iori's fist twisted as it pumped up and down the length of his penis. The head appeared and disappeared in rhythm with the movement of his hand like a whacking mole. The boy's breath grew more irregular and short. His other hand moved to massage at his ballsack through the soft fabric of his briefs, his face contorted in a painful-looking expression and, with a groan and a few sharp strokes, went immobile as his penis squirted two long jets of cum. In a fraction of a second, Armadimon's head had moved and the now familiar taste flowed into his mouth and down his throat. Iori, apparently paralysed by the initial sensation, resumed his pumping after a second, and more cum leaked, as if unwilling, from his member.
Wheezing long, tired breaths, the boy flopped back into his chair, a smile drawing up the corners of his lips. He could feel the tension flow out of his muscles like water. He opened his eyes to look at his partner.
"Thanks," he said with a satisfied tone. "I really needed that."
Armadimon licked his lips clean of the cum stains and grinned back at the boy.
"No problem!"
Iori moved to tuck his penis back into his briefs, and it was then that he noticed his fingers were still covered with the whitish slimy substance. He raised it to his face so he could give it a closer look, the liquid squishing lightly between his fingers, his face one big interrogation mark. The digimon looked on and shrugged.
"Just do as I do," he proposed casually.
Iori's eyebrows cast up and he gave his partner a doubtful look. Armadimon rolled his eyes.
"It's certainly no worse than some of the stuff you already eat," he explained. With a smile, he added: "And besides, I can assure you it tastes better than tomatoes, dagya."
The boy was not sure about this. But then he was hardly sure about anything these days. Did he really have any reason not to trust his partner? He decided that he didn't and, opening his mouth, slipped the fingers inside to suck them clean. The slime had an undefinable, rather salty taste, and a texture that reminded him of the raw eggs his grand-father would often give him, but it was certainly not altogether disgusting. He pulled his fingers free and swallowed. He then, to Armadimon's surprise and delight, proceeded to collect the leftover semen on his soft member and eat it too before he pulled it back inside his underwear.
"You know, Armadimon," he began as he bent over to pull up his pants, "You've helped me so much, I think it's time I help you."
Armadimon blinked. That was not part of the plan.
"Wha... What do you mean?" he hesitated.
Iori finished tying the cord belt and gave his partner a serious look.
"I could help you with Patamon," he stated.
The digimon looked away, blushing.
"You knew?"
Iori chuckled.
"Please, Armadimon! Don't take me for less observant than I am. What I'm more surprised about is that nobody else has smacked you about it already."
Armadimon's lips quivered.
"I understand why he would have that effect on you," the boy commented. "He's sweet, and innocent. And sometimes he makes comments that makes you wonder about him. And he doesn't necessarily realize the effect he has on people."
Armadimon nodded at each phrase, blushing more and more.
"And he's pretty cute, of course," his partner added.
"It's the ears!" the digimon suddenly blurted.
Iori froze. Armadimon got up on his hind legs and he leant against Iori's knees for support, resting his head on the teenager's clothed thigh.
"The way they move, the curves, the way they rest on his back when he's sleeping, the way they raise above when he's angry... And the twitches! Oh... The way they twitch..." he trailed off dreamily.
His partner gave another chuckle and grasped at the digimon's own palmate appendages, tugging gently on them. Armadimon gave a low murr at this.
"Of course, of course," the boy agreed as his fingers began to rub at the relaxing ears. "How could I have forgotten the ears."
He continued to massage at the cartilaginous extremities. Armadimon continued to give out throaty, contented sounds and absent-minded nods as his partner spoke.
"But you're not sure about it. You're not sure about him, Tailmon and V-mon. You've tried to help her the last few times she lapsed in these depressive mood swings she has sometimes..."
Iori, finding the position a bit straining for his arm, scooped his partner and plopped the digimon in his lap before resuming his massage. He began to gently rub the upturned armadillo's belly with his left hand.
"...to help her understand that she's not alone anymore. Because you wouldn't want her to get hurt. But as much as, I'm sure, Patamon appreciates what you've been doing for her, it's him you have to work with. He is a contented soul. He never really considered that his relation with any of you could become something more, something beyond friendship. You have to show him that you want that relation to evolve..."
By now, Armadimon was lost in an inattentive, pleasurable haze, nodding out of pure reflex and moaning slightly at his partner's treatment. What had distracted Iori from his exposition was that his ministrations had apparently a greater effect than he would have originally expected, and the digimon's member was crawling out of it's purple cave to poke him in the hand. Iori moved it to rest on the growing, still wet member, which drew a sharp breath from its owner. Iori's eyes moved between his partner's contented expression and the hardening member, and a smile crept up his face. It was time he really helped his partner.
He delicately wrapped his fingers around the hot, yellow fleshy cylinder. It throbbed lightly within his closed fist, the blood inside pushing against his skin so the penis could grow to its full size. Iori gave it a light squeeze, earning himself a low, pleading moan from his partner.
"Ohhhh, Iori... Please... Don't stop."
That was when Iori noticed he had stopped rubbing the digimon's hear. With a chuckle, he resumed it and gave the penis in his other hand a second squeeze. This time, he drew out a dribble of clear precum. Encouraged, the boy began to stroke the member. These actions caused Armadimon's contented purring to shift into definite moans of pleasure, unrestrained by the makeshift gag that the penis usually constituted. Iori maintained a steady pace to his stroking until he chose to try his partner's own medicine.
Letting go of the now precum-covered member, he moved his hand down to squeeze and knead at the sheath. Sometimes he would barely brush at it, as if trying to tickle, at others he would grasp at it fully, feeling the sheath rub against the extended member inside. With an excited look, he fumbled and squeezed at the balls, feeling the olive-sized organs slip and escape under his touch. Armadimon rewarded his partner with light squirming, his tail furling and unfurling like a party noisemaker. Still rubbing the digimon's ear between his thumb and index, Iori grasped the twitching penis in his hand and proceeded to pump it in slow, measured strokes. The movement generated wet, slurpy noises due to the saliva and precum that covered the throbbing flesh.
Armadimon kicked and moaned, lost in an alien form of pleasure, eyes tightly shut by paradoxically fluttering eyelids. They opened as he managed to muffle his cry of pleasure and the nearly transparent semen flowed between the boy's squeezing fingers.
"Iori!" the digimon cried.
His partner smiled and patted him on the head with one hand as the other was cleaned from the semen that dripped all over the digimon's belly.
"It's nothing," he said.
He raised Armadimon with both arms and licked his stomach, crotch and member clean in a couple of licks. Armadimon gave him a stern look.
"You didn't have to do it," he said.
"Neither did you," Iori retorted. "Now, my school's summer festival is in two weeks. Why don't you invite Patamon to come? It should be great fun."
Armadimon nodded before scrambling to get down to the floor. He yawned.
"I could use a nap, dagya."
"And I could use some quiet to do my homework," Iori teased. "So, please, try not to snore."
Armadimon mumbled an "OK" as he curled around and fell asleep. Iori returned to his homework with a sharply focused mind and resumed his listing of the main rivers of Honshu. Five minutes later, Armadimon produced a loud snore.
Held to his word
It was nearly a week after, and something had changed. Even Chikara and Michiko noticed. An uneasiness of sort had settled between Iori and his partner. Armadimon always seemed to be the only one, beside Miyako, who could truly break through the boy's shell, but Iori had been growing more silent over the last few days, and neither parents were sure what to do about it. Chikara doubted prune juice could help. If he forced more down his grandson's throat, there might just be adverse effects.
The intimate events between himself and his partner had left Iori confused. Not so much about his own sexual orientation (he had been confused about that for a while) as to how this was going to affect them. They were soul mates, a fact Iori had accepted a long time ago. Armadimon was a part of who he was, and vice-versa. What the boy wasn't sure about was whether he could love his partner... Differently. Of course, he wasn't sure he was supposed to in the first place, hence his confused state of mind.
Iori felt he had to deal with this himself. After all, this was just another example of stuff he could hardly explain to people around him, not even Daisuke. What could he say? "I couldn't sleep, so my partner went down on me?" The mere thought made him snort. He had made it a point to avoid discussing what had occurred with his partner, and the digimon in turn had respected that wish, even though Iori could tell how much it cost him. Armadimon was still his jocular, easy-going and nap-loving self, but the silences between them were growing deeper, and neither liked it. Right now the absence of dialogue was culminating in a one-sided exchange as the digimon tried to catch the attention of his homework-busy partner.
He did not normally do such a thing out of respect for his partner's dedication, but the situation had several advantages in his favour. First, Iori sat to do his homework and never got up until he was done. Second, he usually went into a state that Armadimon could only describe as "hypnotic", and would give a quick, but frank answer to just about any question. What worried the digimon the most was that his partner was still ignoring his efforts to talk to him.
"Iori, stop that!" he implored. "It's going to destroy us! Do you want me to go Gabumon on you or what?"
The teen gave a sigh. That his partner at least acknowledged his attempts rekindled Armadimon's hopes.
"Please..." he pleaded. "Talk to me."
"I'm doing my homework," the boy stubbornly answered.
Armadimon grinned. His partner had talked. Victory was practically his.
"Oh! Come on!" he protested. "Do you really believe I would interrupt you if I didn't think it was important?"
Iori turned toward the mammal digimon to answer, and then immediately fixated his gaze back on his geography homework.
"Right. But I don't want to talk about it," he said flatly.
Armadimon groaned. That was going to be harder than he'd thought. He decided for an oblique approach.
"Well, let's talk about something else then," he continued "You haven't kept your promise, dagya."
Iori blinked.
"What are you talking about?"
Armadimon gave the teen a hurt look.
"Don't you remember? You said you wouldn't let something like that happen again."
Iori's pulse quickened and he could feel the blood rush to his face. He had not really forgotten about it, but he had hoped the digimon would not bring it up.
"What...? How...?" he stuttered. "How do you know?"
Armadimon rolled his eyes at his partner.
"Think about it Iori! I can smell food a hundred yards away and I could track you across the city if I wanted to, dagya. I tasted you. You think I wouldn't know if you had done it?"
Iori's blush deepened some. Armadimon couldn't help but chuckle at this. Seeing his partner uncertain and blushing was so rare it felt good to know he had still something of a normal teen in him.
"I won't say I haven't had the time. It's more like... I haven't found a good time."
Now it was Armadimon's turn to blink.
"This whole thing is making me feel like..." Iori hesitated, "like I'm losing control. Ever since our adventures in the Digital World, I've yearned for nothing more than some stability, but I was denied that. If I can't keep control over that little aspect of my life, how am I to find some firm ground in the future?"
Iori looked down at himself and the slight tenting in his pants with shame. Just talking about it was causing a reaction. Armadimon let out a sigh of understanding.
"So this is it? Oh... Iori... You're getting it all wrong!" he chastised playfully. "It's not about controlling your tensions, it's about releasing them so that they don't cause you to lose control completely, dagya."
Iori gave the digimon a weak smile.
"Maybe you're right."
With that comment he resumed working on his homework, but Armadimon was determined to go all the way with it.
"I'm still waiiiitiiiiiing," he drawled.
To his great amusement, it took Iori a few seconds too much before understanding the matter. Then the blush returned just as quickly as it had disappeared, stronger then ever, and he turned toward his partner with a panicked look.
"What? Here? Now?"
Armadimon grinned.
"Why not? Now's as good a time as any, dagya," he stated.
"Are you crazy?" Iori was holding back his yelling. "My mother and grandfather are in the other room. They could walk in anytime!"
The digimon shook his head.
"Uh uh! No way. You told your mother you were doing your homework, and she'd never dare interrupt. She'd be more likely to give you a call on your cell phone if something really big happened."
The boy sighed. The worst about it was how right his partner was. Armadimon would not let go anytime soon. Iori wanted to smack himself for walking right into that one. The digimon chuckled at his partner's dilemma.
"I can still provide some... incitement, you know," he offered.
Iori sweatdropped. His partner was probably serious about it. The boy looked away as he talked.
"I... don't think we should continue down that path, Armadimon... I'm sorry."
To his surprise, the digimon smacked his forehead with a yellow paw.
"Oh Iori... You really don't get it, do you? As nice as it was, I do not expect it to repeat itself, and I don't think you should either. Remember what Chikara-san says about kendo?"
"That others can help you, but only what you're doing yourself is really changing things," Iori blurted out.
"See? I can get you started and help once in a while, but the rest is, if I dare say so, in your hands, dagya."
Armadimon chuckled at his own wordplay and Iori had to swat him lightly on the head.
"Besides, I don't even need to go that far," the armadillo added almost as an afterthought.
"What do you... mean..."
Iori's question dissolved into a gulp. His partner had flipped onto his back, revealing a purple underside. The digimon curled over and nuzzled lightly at his sheath and tight ballsack with his nose. The boy could see the digimon's crinkled asshole right under the smooth scrotum. Coaxed out by the gentle nudging, the creature's penis emerged and rapidly grew to a full 4 inches. It was almost cylindrical and ended in a wrinkled, concave surface, as if maintained so by internal suction. A slight bulge of flesh marked the edge of the extremity and was the only thing comparable to a glans. It was almost entirely smooth, lacking the veins so prominent on Iori's own member, although it was slightly curved outward. The color of it was a flat shade of yellow, much like a banana, and the skin was streaked with darker marks the color of tea stains. The bright purple of the surrounding skin made it stand out like a lone dandelion in the middle of a well-kept lawn.
Armadimon gave the transfixed boy a sly look and grinned. His plan was working to perfection. He gave a sniff and the familiar cocktail of raw cotton, sesame oil and buckwheat filled his lungs. A clashing tinge of urine was also present, but Armadimon was used to it and was not going to let that deter him. The digimon wrapped his tongue around the tip and shuddered lightly as he gave a long lick along the sensitive edge, the feeling setting off prickles of pleasure. He then shoved his tongue in the member's crater-like top, licking it clean of the piss and secretions before lapping at the end, making as much noise as possible (though still not enough that Michiko would wonder what was going on) to get his partner into gear.
Iori could not miss Armadimon's goal either, and he knew his was a lost cause at this point, and he might as well give up. With a mild blush, he arched up in his chair to slip his pants down his leg. They fell to the ground with a faint sound, revealing a pair of loose, sky blue and black-trimmed briefs. The movement caused his chair to rollback and he almost fell on the floor, managing to catch himself on the desk. The fabric outlined five inches of growing arousal that were only made more obvious when he sat back. Iori stroked uneasily at his hardening member through the clothing, which caused Armadimon to stop his self-pleasuring so he could give his partner a good-humored glare.
"Come on! It's not like I haven't seen you naked, and even willing before!" he exclaimed.
With a curt nod, Iori grabbed the two sides of the underwear's front fold and pulled his member through the fly. Armadimon's face brightened in understanding. He returned his attention to his own needy penis and slid his lips around it, collecting the dripping precum on his tongue and swallowing the salty liquid. The digimon continued to lick and slurp as he slowly moved his mouth up and down the shaft, until his lips reached the sheath, at which point the tip of his member was sliding down his throat. Armadimon hummed, the vibrations further stimulating the flesh in his throat and making him close his eyes with satisfaction.
Iori watched in utter amazement, having never imagined before that this was an usual occurrence for his partner. The teen joined his thumb and index into a ring wrapped over the foreskin that covered his cock's head, and moved them rapidly up and down over the edge. The undefinable sensation encouraged a faster movement.
Here I am, masturbating in front if my best friend, a creature from another world practicing autofellatio, to keep a promise I made, he though.
The absurdity of the situation made him smile and he completed it with Just another day in the life of a chosen child.
Iori continued to move his fingers over the sensitive past of his member. The retreating foreskin often revealed a bit of purplish skin underneath. A clear pearl of precum was pushed out and spread by contact with the closing and opening skin.
Armadimon spit his own member out for a few seconds and suggested: "Try using your whole hand."
Without really thinking, Iori wrapped his hand around the member and began pumping his fist up and down the length. The broader movement revealed most of the glans to the brute light of his desk lamp. Extra precum spread around as the boy's less and less controlled movement uncovered more of the head. The hot member throbbed lightly in his hand. Iori's eyes closed and he inhaled sharply at the increased feeling when the skin slipped over the edge and rubbed back over it.
Armadimon continued to stimulate his own member. He had brought his paws around and begun kneading at his ballsack. The strange sensation of pressing against the balls inside only serving to make his penis harder. His mouth moved with practiced ease from the top of the sheath until his lips were just brushing the bulging edge of his member, each movement serving to increase the tension building inside. His tongue slavered over the smooth skin and saliva down and wetting the skin of his sheath and balls.
He opened his eyes to look at his partner. Iori was busy with himself and he could now conclude with a complete peace of mind in that the boy would finish on his own alright. Armadimon's head lurched forward and the oversensitive member slid down to the sheath inside. He did not stop there and, opening his mouth further, forced the end of his penis firmly down his throat as his lips parted to allow entrance to the bulging edge of his sheath. His member gave a slight twitch, dribbling liquid down his throat. The digimon shoved his tongue inside the sheath and moved it around, stimulating a normally hidden part of the reproductive organ.
It was like electroshock. Armadimon's balls pulled tightly as the very liquid and buckwheat-flavoured semen poured into his throat. The orgasm continued for interminable seconds until, with a final, weak twitch, a last spurt trickled from his meatus. Still licking to clean up, Armadimon let the softening member flop out of his muzzle and retreat back to its hidden location. He shuffled himself back on his legs and sat to observe his partner.
Iori's fist twisted as it pumped up and down the length of his penis. The head appeared and disappeared in rhythm with the movement of his hand like a whacking mole. The boy's breath grew more irregular and short. His other hand moved to massage at his ballsack through the soft fabric of his briefs, his face contorted in a painful-looking expression and, with a groan and a few sharp strokes, went immobile as his penis squirted two long jets of cum. In a fraction of a second, Armadimon's head had moved and the now familiar taste flowed into his mouth and down his throat. Iori, apparently paralysed by the initial sensation, resumed his pumping after a second, and more cum leaked, as if unwilling, from his member.
Wheezing long, tired breaths, the boy flopped back into his chair, a smile drawing up the corners of his lips. He could feel the tension flow out of his muscles like water. He opened his eyes to look at his partner.
"Thanks," he said with a satisfied tone. "I really needed that."
Armadimon licked his lips clean of the cum stains and grinned back at the boy.
"No problem!"
Iori moved to tuck his penis back into his briefs, and it was then that he noticed his fingers were still covered with the whitish slimy substance. He raised it to his face so he could give it a closer look, the liquid squishing lightly between his fingers, his face one big interrogation mark. The digimon looked on and shrugged.
"Just do as I do," he proposed casually.
Iori's eyebrows cast up and he gave his partner a doubtful look. Armadimon rolled his eyes.
"It's certainly no worse than some of the stuff you already eat," he explained. With a smile, he added: "And besides, I can assure you it tastes better than tomatoes, dagya."
The boy was not sure about this. But then he was hardly sure about anything these days. Did he really have any reason not to trust his partner? He decided that he didn't and, opening his mouth, slipped the fingers inside to suck them clean. The slime had an undefinable, rather salty taste, and a texture that reminded him of the raw eggs his grand-father would often give him, but it was certainly not altogether disgusting. He pulled his fingers free and swallowed. He then, to Armadimon's surprise and delight, proceeded to collect the leftover semen on his soft member and eat it too before he pulled it back inside his underwear.
"You know, Armadimon," he began as he bent over to pull up his pants, "You've helped me so much, I think it's time I help you."
Armadimon blinked. That was not part of the plan.
"Wha... What do you mean?" he hesitated.
Iori finished tying the cord belt and gave his partner a serious look.
"I could help you with Patamon," he stated.
The digimon looked away, blushing.
"You knew?"
Iori chuckled.
"Please, Armadimon! Don't take me for less observant than I am. What I'm more surprised about is that nobody else has smacked you about it already."
Armadimon's lips quivered.
"I understand why he would have that effect on you," the boy commented. "He's sweet, and innocent. And sometimes he makes comments that makes you wonder about him. And he doesn't necessarily realize the effect he has on people."
Armadimon nodded at each phrase, blushing more and more.
"And he's pretty cute, of course," his partner added.
"It's the ears!" the digimon suddenly blurted.
Iori froze. Armadimon got up on his hind legs and he leant against Iori's knees for support, resting his head on the teenager's clothed thigh.
"The way they move, the curves, the way they rest on his back when he's sleeping, the way they raise above when he's angry... And the twitches! Oh... The way they twitch..." he trailed off dreamily.
His partner gave another chuckle and grasped at the digimon's own palmate appendages, tugging gently on them. Armadimon gave a low murr at this.
"Of course, of course," the boy agreed as his fingers began to rub at the relaxing ears. "How could I have forgotten the ears."
He continued to massage at the cartilaginous extremities. Armadimon continued to give out throaty, contented sounds and absent-minded nods as his partner spoke.
"But you're not sure about it. You're not sure about him, Tailmon and V-mon. You've tried to help her the last few times she lapsed in these depressive mood swings she has sometimes..."
Iori, finding the position a bit straining for his arm, scooped his partner and plopped the digimon in his lap before resuming his massage. He began to gently rub the upturned armadillo's belly with his left hand.
"...to help her understand that she's not alone anymore. Because you wouldn't want her to get hurt. But as much as, I'm sure, Patamon appreciates what you've been doing for her, it's him you have to work with. He is a contented soul. He never really considered that his relation with any of you could become something more, something beyond friendship. You have to show him that you want that relation to evolve..."
By now, Armadimon was lost in an inattentive, pleasurable haze, nodding out of pure reflex and moaning slightly at his partner's treatment. What had distracted Iori from his exposition was that his ministrations had apparently a greater effect than he would have originally expected, and the digimon's member was crawling out of it's purple cave to poke him in the hand. Iori moved it to rest on the growing, still wet member, which drew a sharp breath from its owner. Iori's eyes moved between his partner's contented expression and the hardening member, and a smile crept up his face. It was time he really helped his partner.
He delicately wrapped his fingers around the hot, yellow fleshy cylinder. It throbbed lightly within his closed fist, the blood inside pushing against his skin so the penis could grow to its full size. Iori gave it a light squeeze, earning himself a low, pleading moan from his partner.
"Ohhhh, Iori... Please... Don't stop."
That was when Iori noticed he had stopped rubbing the digimon's hear. With a chuckle, he resumed it and gave the penis in his other hand a second squeeze. This time, he drew out a dribble of clear precum. Encouraged, the boy began to stroke the member. These actions caused Armadimon's contented purring to shift into definite moans of pleasure, unrestrained by the makeshift gag that the penis usually constituted. Iori maintained a steady pace to his stroking until he chose to try his partner's own medicine.
Letting go of the now precum-covered member, he moved his hand down to squeeze and knead at the sheath. Sometimes he would barely brush at it, as if trying to tickle, at others he would grasp at it fully, feeling the sheath rub against the extended member inside. With an excited look, he fumbled and squeezed at the balls, feeling the olive-sized organs slip and escape under his touch. Armadimon rewarded his partner with light squirming, his tail furling and unfurling like a party noisemaker. Still rubbing the digimon's ear between his thumb and index, Iori grasped the twitching penis in his hand and proceeded to pump it in slow, measured strokes. The movement generated wet, slurpy noises due to the saliva and precum that covered the throbbing flesh.
Armadimon kicked and moaned, lost in an alien form of pleasure, eyes tightly shut by paradoxically fluttering eyelids. They opened as he managed to muffle his cry of pleasure and the nearly transparent semen flowed between the boy's squeezing fingers.
"Iori!" the digimon cried.
His partner smiled and patted him on the head with one hand as the other was cleaned from the semen that dripped all over the digimon's belly.
"It's nothing," he said.
He raised Armadimon with both arms and licked his stomach, crotch and member clean in a couple of licks. Armadimon gave him a stern look.
"You didn't have to do it," he said.
"Neither did you," Iori retorted. "Now, my school's summer festival is in two weeks. Why don't you invite Patamon to come? It should be great fun."
Armadimon nodded before scrambling to get down to the floor. He yawned.
"I could use a nap, dagya."
"And I could use some quiet to do my homework," Iori teased. "So, please, try not to snore."
Armadimon mumbled an "OK" as he curled around and fell asleep. Iori returned to his homework with a sharply focused mind and resumed his listing of the main rivers of Honshu. Five minutes later, Armadimon produced a loud snore.
