The first time Eddie clicks on the tentacle porn video, it’s genuinely an accident.
There’s a split-second of wait, what did I click on then an uncomfortably familiar flash of writhing black tentacles curling lovingly around the arms and legs of the lithe young woman in the animated video, spreading her legs wide as she tosses her head back, moaning happily as the tentacles curl into – Eddie squeaks, hurriedly clicks the back button and scoots backward in his chair, feeling unaccountably guilty.
There’s a tickling in the back of his mind, and he can feel Venom’s curiosity, but the symbiote says nothing. They’ve had numerous discussions about Venom respecting Eddie’s “private time”, and while Venom still isn’t happy about Eddie having any time that’s separate from him at all – he’s a little possessive that way, not that Eddie really minds – but, well, a man has needs, okay?
Eddie’s been single for a while now, and he really doesn’t want to have to explain the concept of jerking off to his alien. Venom tends to be pretty hands-on about most things; he might even want to…help. Eddie’s cock twitches at the thought. He stares down at his traitorous cock incredulously, then determinedly hunches over his laptop again.
Venom’s curiosity is there, though; not intrusive, exactly – Eddie’s become too used to having Venom in his head for any of the symbiote’s thoughts to feel out of place anymore – but present enough that it’s distracting Eddie from his evening’s goals of (1) having an orgasm (preferably a really good one), and then (2) taking a nice long nap.
“Okay, out with it,” he says out loud.
There’s a brief silence, then, as if finally realizing that Eddie’s talking to him, Venom unfurls from the corner of Eddie’s mind he’d sequestered himself in.
You said my species had not come to your planet before. That when we found each other, it was the first time you had encountered one of my kind.
“Yes?” Eddie says. He wonders vaguely if he should zip his trousers back up, because if Venom wants to have some kind of existential discussion then it’s going to be a little awkward doing it with his dick hanging out and his favorite porn site still open on his laptop.
Then why do you have instructional videos for mating with my kind?
“Instruc– oh, oh god. No, no, that isn’t an, um, instructional video.”
It is not?
“No,” Eddie says firmly. “No, it really isn’t.”
Good, Venom declares. Because it is extremely inaccurate.
“Wait, what? – it is?”
Good night, Eddie, Venom says gleefully, then disappears back to whatever corner of Eddie’s mind he hides in when he’s not demanding food, or getting entirely the wrong idea about Eddie’s tastes in porn, or making Eddie wonder what “accurate” tentacle porn is. God damn it.
Eddie halfheartedly clicks on the link he’d meant to click on in the first place, the one right below the tentacle porn. It’s a nice harmless video of two gorgeous muscled dudes fucking; the taller one has the smaller guy on his hands and knees and he’s got a lovely thick cock, one that Eddie wouldn’t mind in the least getting impaled on; most importantly, there are no tentacles in sight. But – it’s too late. Now, he’s burdened with the heretofore unknown information that there is apparently a correct way to get fucked by tentacles. Vanilla gay porn suddenly seems a lot less interesting.
“Dammit, Venom,” he says out loud, just to see if he can maybe coax more information out of the symbiote. Irritatingly, Venom makes no reply.
Eddie sighs and shuts his laptop. He goes to bed orgasm-less and mildly frustrated.
The next afternoon, when Eddie opens his laptop, the tentacle porn link is still there on his open browser window, taunting him. He scowls at it. When he hovers the mouse over the link, the little preview that pops up shows him a glimpse of dark, sinuous tentacles sliding smoothly over smooth, creamy skin, curling lovingly around a slender limb –
Nervously, Eddie jerks his hand away from the mouse, clenching and unclenching his fist. And…okay, he’s never actually given much thought to tentacles before – well, no, he’s never given much thought to tentacles in the context of sex before. But now, with Venom in his head and the sense-memory of the symbiote’s inky coils sliding smooth and warm over his skin whenever Venom materializes, he can’t help how his mind connects the two concepts, how his cock perks up in his trousers at the thought.
He flicks his tongue nervously over dry lips, then takes a breath, reaches for the mouse again and clicks on the link.
When he’s done, he hesitates, then scrolls down to the list of recommended videos under the one he’s just watched. He clicks on the next one.
Over the next hour, Eddie learns more about creative uses of tentacles than he’s ever thought about in his entire life. His favorite videos are the ones with long, dark tentacles coiling around a nude, very enthusiastically interested male body, spreading the man’s legs wide and wrapping around his stiff, leaking cock; he tries his best not to think about why he likes these particular videos so much.
In a few of the videos he watches, the person in the video doesn’t seem to be enjoying the tentacles very much. He clicks back out of those ones quickly.
Over the next few weeks, Eddie goes down a veritable rabbit hole of tentacle porn. Some of the more fantastical stuff that goes on in the videos seems rather anatomically improbable to him – not impossible, though, and he can’t help but wonder…
That night, he wakes up from a dream in which he vaguely remembers tentacles playing a starring role, damp with sweat and panting desperately, rock hard and already humping his hips into his sheets.
“Jesus,” he groans into his pillow.
He squirms a hand into his sweatpants and wraps it around his cock; within thirty seconds he’s coming hard into his fist and all over his sweatpants, biting his pillow to muffle his groans.
“Goddammit, fuck,” he mutters to himself, wiping his hand off on the sheets before sliding back into sleep.
This is bad, Eddie thinks the next morning, after he’s thrown his sticky sweatpants into the laundry and hastily taken a shower: it’s turning into an obsession. His brain is still skirting around the fact that in his head, he’s starting to replace the person in the videos with himself, and the tentacles with – with – no no no not going there, Eddie, shut up shut up.
He’s sitting at his desk at home, taking a break from writing up a report of an interview from yesterday and clicking into his favorite video when Venom breaks the unspoken rule of not talking to Eddie during his “private time”.
Eddie jerks away from his laptop like he’s been burned. Reflexively, he slams his laptop shut and then realizes that, yeah, that was dumb, because it’s not like Venom hasn’t seen every single damn video Eddie’s been watching for the past however many weeks he’s been doing this.
Is there something you would like to tell me, Eddie?
“Er,” says Eddie. He clears his throat noisily. “No?”
A single dark tendril materializes out of Eddie’s upper arm, stretching toward his laptop and opening it. The screen flickers back on to the video Eddie’d been watching before Venom interrupted him.
Venom’s tentacle taps lightly on the screen, where its mirror image is currently fucking in and out of the ass of an enthusiastically moaning blond man. Eddie blushes bright red.
I told you it was inaccurate. Venom sounds weird, kind of – sulky?
“You – uh – what?”
Focus, Eddie, Venom says severely, and Eddie’s cock, oh god, jerks at the sound of Venom’s voice.
Before he can apologize, or try to explain himself – although he has no idea what he could say, anyway: sorry I’ve been obsessing over porn where one of the participants really, really looks like you? – Venom saves him from himself by speaking again.
If you wanted instruction, you only had to ask.
“Oh, god,” Eddie squeaks. His cock has gone from half-mast to hard enough to pound nails in the span of half a second. “Yes. Uh, god, yes, please.”
Venom materializes a few more inky tentacles, curling them warm and heavy over Eddie’s limbs, guiding him to stand up from his chair and bending him over his desk. A couple of smaller tendrils make short work of his belt, then unzip his fly and shove his trousers and boxers down together to the ground in a heap. Eddie shivers as he’s abruptly half-naked in the cool air of his study, then gasps as a few more dark tentacles sprout from his arms and slowly unbutton his shirt, sliding under the fabric to tease gently at his nipples until they pebble up.
Is this okay, Eddie?
“More than okay,” Eddie says dizzily, and moans as Venom gives a pleased little twitch of his tentacles in response, sending red-hot little sparks of pleasure skittering out from everywhere he’s touching Eddie’s skin.
Eddie steps out of the pool of his trousers and underwear, then jumps as Venom curls two larger tentacles around both his ankles, spreading his legs further apart. Venom’s gotten Eddie’s shirt fully unbuttoned now and it’s hanging open over his thighs, shirttails draped over his bare ass as Venom imperiously arranges Eddie how he wants him: leaning over his desk braced on his elbows, legs spread wide and ass in the air, Venom’s tendrils still teasing his nipples and slipping warm and slick over his abs, his stomach, his thighs; touching everywhere except his poor neglected cock, granite-hard and already drooling precome from the tip.
“Venom, please,” he moans, then sucks in a sudden shocked breath as more tentacles (how many does Venom have? Are they unlimited?) gently pull his ass cheeks apart. Something hot and slick teases at his rim – Venom feels so good, fuck, he’s not even going to need lube – and that thought proves true as Venom slips a tendril into him, slowly stretching him.
The symbiote’s skin is warm and smooth and slippery and it feels a million times better than any kind of lube Eddie’s ever used. By the time Venom’s got four tentacles up his ass, Eddie’s so ready to be fucked that he’s almost crying.
“Venom – god – fuck – ”
Even through the haze of arousal clouding his brain, Eddie can tell that Venom sounds amused. He’s teasing Eddie, the bastard; Eddie makes an incoherent noise of rage that Venom apparently takes as permission to start really pounding into him. At the same time, smaller tendrils wrap around Eddie’s cock, stroking him firm and hot and slick, and Eddie almost weeps with joy because god, finally.
His chest and head are flat on the table now, cheek mashed into the keyboard of his laptop and he doesn’t even care because he feels fucking incredible. He’s panting open-mouthed as Venom fucks him hard, deep ragged breaths in time with Venom’s thrusts, so when a larger tentacle curves languidly over his cheek, trailing gently over his lips, it’s almost instinct to take it into his mouth, closing his lips around it and sucking hard at it, curling his tongue around it.
Venom’s deep pleasure at the gesture sparks through him, an echo of his own bliss; and when Eddie shifts a little, adjusting the angle until Venom’s tentacles brush his sweet spot, he almost passes out from the sensation.
He gasps “yes” and “there” around the tentacle in his mouth, and even though he’s barely coherent at this point Venom must understand him because he keeps up the perfect angle, and it’s too much, Venom deep inside him and wrapped around his cock and in his mouth and – and then he’s coming, crying out as pleasure fizzes white-hot through his entire body.
Eddie wakes up sore and contented in his bed, which is weird because he distinctly remembers Venom fucking him to within an inch of his life in his study. Well. Venom probably moved him after he passed out on his desk. Or on the study floor, he doesn’t really remember.
Venom materializes his head out of Eddie’s shoulder and peers down at him.
You have been asleep for ten hours. I thought you were dead.
Eddie laughs. “I sleep well after good sex. Thanks for moving me to the bed, by the way.”
You are welcome. It was good, then?
“Very good.” Eddie squints up at the symbiote. “Hey, by the way. You know how you said those, er, videos I was watching were – inaccurate? How did you know, anyway? This is your first time on this planet too, right?”
There’s a long silence.
It was an educated guess, Venom says finally.
“Oh my god. You made that up!”
I am right here. There was no need for you to watch videos, Venom says, sounding distinctly sulky.
“You could have just asked, you know,” Eddie points out.
So could you.
Eddie snorts. “Fair enough.” He grins. “Anyway, thanks. That was very…educational.”
You are welcome. Would you like to do it again?
“Oh, hell yes.”