Timing | By : ShadowProc213 Category: +1 through F > American Dad Views: 19049 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own American Dad or any associated property, I make no money from this writing. |
Francine had arrived at the CIA office just ten minutes earlier, and Deputy Director Bullock was still explaining how this 'Avatar' movie was supposed to work.
"And this rare material is called unobtanium--" Bullock continued.
"May as well have just called it plot contrivance number five." Francine shot.
"This explanation will go a lot faster if... never mind about what it's called." Bullock insisted. "You want to order some pizza if we're going to go over the whole thing?"
"Sure." Francine agreed.
While she argued about plot contrivances, Steve had already brought Phyllis to the chemistry lab at Pearl Bailey High. There were rose petals all around the front table, and that table was more than big enough for them to do what they wanted.
Steve knew that nerves might get the best of him, and girls had run away for far less than one poorly-timed comment, let alone a string of anxiety fueled farts. He considered going to the bathroom to release all of that pressure, but decided instead to gamble on Phyllis being the prize that she seemed to be.
"Are you as ready as I am for me to plow your Oculus Rift?" Steve did his best to smirk, but those aforementioned nerves were more than taking their toll. He helped Phyllis up onto the table.
Stan's uncertainty shone on Phyllis' eyes. Steve might have been mistaking it for the usual feelings swimming through the head of any teenage girl, but Stan had a far more complicated question to ask himself than anything about abstinence or self-respect. His question, 'Do I love my son enough to have sex with him, in constant eye contact, just to spend more time with him as Phyllis?'
That long and twisted question, and Stan could only manage one word to reply to Steve. In Phyllis' sultry voice; "Absolutely, cowboy." She agreed, staring him right in the eyes as she removed her thong.
Steve watched, expecting this girl to remove her clothes, but having no idea how girls' clothing really worked. Instead of fully removing anything, thong notwithstanding, Phyllis just tossed back her strawberry blond hair, and started hiking up her dress.
Steve could already feel himself getting hard, and didn't want to trip himself up while taking his pants off, so hurried to unzip them now and kick them aside. He wasn't really thinking ahead, just racing to get naked in front of this girl as quickly as possible. The best part was, she wasn't judging him for his eagerness. She just lowered the top of her dress, now leaving only her midriff covered.
Steve leaped onto the table and he, completely naked; and Phyllis, only her midriff covered, were now so close together. Stan reached down and realized the total lack of moisture between his avatar's legs. While Phyllis was a highly functional machine, Stan couldn't be sure if this was the fault of the machine or his own lack of arousal.
Trying to slow things down, at least momentarily, Phyllis leaned in toward Steve's ear, and whispered "Why don't you tell me all about some of your favorite parts of a girl? What screams 'sexy' to you?"
Steve was confused, but figured that a conversation like this had to come up sooner or later. He had just assumed that it would come a lot later. "A curvy blond, with luscious lips, and a nice stacked chest." Steve tried to be charming, though the wording probably would have resulted in a real girl backhanding him.
Stan did his best to focus on that description, even tried to focus on the women that matched it, but that didn't stop something stupid from coming out of his mouth. "You know you just described your mom?" Phyllis teased.
"Well then, I guess we need to ask for a threesome, don't we?" Steve teased back. "Besides, you're so much hotter than her." He assured Phyllis, cupping a breast in hand as he ran his tongue up her neck.
Stan could feel the moisture building up in the folds of his synthetic sex, and even felt something new and tingly as Steve continued these ministrations. Whatever Steve had been watching on the internet, and whatever creepy graphic novels he'd been reading, they were apparently teaching him a very practical trade.
Even with all of that physicality embroiling Stan, getting his loins ready to erupt, it was still doing a number on his head. The comments about hot blonds hadn't just been a good way to get Stan wet; the assurance that he had real feelings for this girl, that he like-liked Phyllis, that just seemed to build up more anxiety.
Contrary to a lot of what God... and Reagan... had told him, Stan was really enjoying having a boy on top of him, and he was eager to go all the way. Phyllis wrapped her legs around Steve, ankles crossed as they rested against his flat little butt. She reached up to really embrace Steve, and failed to realize that there was now nothing holding them both up.
Phyllis fell down, her back now flat on the table, and her legs proudly splayed to present a fresh and unused womanhood. Steve was a little concerned at first, until those nurturing eyes and welcoming smile assured him that she hadn't been trying to push him away.
Steve tried to slide closer to this beautiful blond as he lay atop her. He could actually feel that moistness that his biology textbooks had talked about. He looked at Phyllis, expecting some greater reaction. Even with her fingernails resting on his shoulder blades, and her legs wrapped firmly around him, he still needed an invitation to move forward.
Stan gave that invitation by using Phyllis' ankles to pull Steve's ready member deep inside. Steve gasped at the feeling, and so did this girl on the table at all of the new feelings inside of her loins. Stan actually couldn't take much more of those feelings. He could feel his own abdomen tightening as his avatar had an orgasm, tightening Phyllis' pussy around Steve's cock.
That wonderful reaction, involuntary though it may have been, was a wonderful invitation. It drove Steve to thrust more quickly, and wrap his arms around her. Phyllis squeezed every part of this boy inside her and atop her; his hips with her legs, his cock with her insides, but what really drove him over the edge was her fingernails, digging into his back.
Steve couldn't even pull out far enough for a thrust to accompany as he sprayed Phyllis' insides, assuredly leaving them soaked. He still didn't have any considerable composure as he spoke, "Sorry about that. I was going to pull out, and I meant to last longer, but--"
"Steve," Phyllis said, catching a glimpse of her blood-stained fingernails and realizing that there may be a real problem, but just wiping those nails clean on her white dress, "No guy is expected to last all too long on his first time. Even when you pass out..." she said, shrugging.
"Pass out?" Steve began actually laughing. "I'm not about to just go to sleep if you're ready to go again." He assured her, gasping for breath. "I just need a few minutes to get ready for round two."
"Get ready?" Phyllis asked, certain that Steve was already soft inside her.
Steve leaned in close, his lips almost touching hers as he explained, "A little making out goes a long way." his tongue darting inside her mouth. Eyes now closed, they continued a similar embrace, grinding their moist and sloppy nether-parts together. Faster than they expected, they were already building up for another round, and Steve was already sliding inside her again.
This time, they did manage to last longer, and Phyllis started tousling Steve's hair as his cock was tickling the very deepest parts inside her. At the CIA, Francine was finally done listening to Bullock, and turned to see Stan on his back, mouth open and tongue thrusting forward. No matter what he was doing with Steve, Francine felt a deep need to stop it. She grabbed a power-lifter, and took off toward the school.
Steve had an odd amount of endurance, probably since he did tend to masturbate to porn often enough that doing it multiple times was becoming a skill. At his third time inside Phyllis, the power-lifter crashed through the wall, piloted by Francine. "Get away from my son, you bitch!" She shouted.
"Mom, this is a bad time to be super-possessive." Steve cautioned, still not missing a beat of physicality inside of his lover. "If you want to talk about Ellen Ripley, though, I guess you could grab a desk..."
"This isn't about me being possessive!" Francine screamed at both of them. "Stan, tell him the truth!"
"Wait, Stan?" Steve questioned, raising an eyebrow at Phyllis, then turning to Francine, then back to Phyllis. "What the hell is she talking about?"
Phyllis pushed Steve away gently, and turned to face the desks of the classroom, most of which had just been displaced by the large yellow piece of construction equipment. "I am your father."
"Please tell me that you're trying and failing to quote Star Wars." Steve begged, turning to face the student desks as they both sat on this teacher's desk.
"Nope." Phyllis explained. "I'm a bionic avatar, being controlled by your dad at CIA headquarters."
Steve stood up from the desk, silently got dressed, and walked out through the trail of rubble that Francine had just left on her way in. On his way out, he said something to his mother, though it was too quiet for Phyllis to hear.
"What did he say?" Stan asked through Phyllis.
"He said that, if you wanted to spend time with your son, you didn't need to break your son's heart. I'm paraphrasing." Francine said. "Come on. We should really get this equipment back to the CIA."
Stan and Francine both arrived at home at about the same time, turning on the light to see Steve, sitting on the couch. He was no longer in his formal clothes, just his regular red-and-yellow. Francine sat down next to him, and Stan just went upstairs. "Sweetie, is there anything you need from me?" Francine asked. Nobody else in the house knew what had just happened, and she figured it was best not to advertise.
"What is the right thing to do when your father does something like this?" Steve asked. "He didn't rape me--"
"Debatable." Francine interrupted.
"He was trying to help." Steve continued.
"Probably." Francine halfway agreed.
"It's just one more layer of stupid confusion on top of everything else!" Steve finished.
"What do you mean by 'everything else'?" Francine asked.
"I've never felt like I really fit into this family. I mean, you're beautiful, and Dad isn't exactly horrible either. But look at me!" Steve argued. He was short, no muscle, no hair below the belt, and stuck wearing those birth control glasses.
"Steve, someday you're going to be big and strong." Francine reassured him, putting just one hand on his shoulder. "I think what you really need right now is to just spend some time away from this house."
"I thought you wanted me here to assure that you'd always have a purpose as a caretaker." Steve cocked an eyebrow at his mother, and she just averted her eyes, having previously thought that Steve was unaware of that little urge inside her.
The next day, Steve left with a few of Stan's associates. Stan didn't see him off, and Francine went to the dining room to confront her husband only to find him crying over a picture of Steve and Phyllis together at the dance.
"Stan, what do you think you're doing?" she yelled.
"Sulking. Trying to keep my tears off this photo." Stan snorted before continuing, "I couldn't face Steve knowing how much he hates me."
"He doesn't hate you. He hates Phyllis." Francine assured him.
"Exactly. Who did you think I was talking about?" Stan asked.
"Why should you care what he thinks of her? She's not real. You're real." Francine demanded, trying to drag some logic out of Stan, which was always a chore.
"I care because, as Phyllis, I really got to know my son." Stan smiled and set down the photo on his nightstand. "And I love him."
"I love Steve too, but that doesn't--" Francine stopped when she saw Stan's eyes, and saw real determination. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going back to work on Monday. I'm going to find Steve, and tell him the truth. Hopefully, he'll accept me." Stan finished, walking toward the front door.
"Stan, that's insane! The only reason he was even--" She stopped talking when she realized how much her words would just depress him.
When Stan was out the door, Klaus finally spoke up. "You should realize, you have no conviction."
"Shut up, Klaus."
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