Davis's Dorm Room

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Woo, time for another gift for Narse. Good old Davis/Veemon fun, years after the whole digidestined-bit is well over. Check the keywords. Normal Digimon is owned by Bandai/Toei etc ~


Davis wiped across his brow as he carried his bags up the stairs. He was on the third floor, and the slow elevator killed him. A backpack hung from his back while his sports bag hung at his hip. Finally he reached his dorm room, his brain (little as he used it) exhausted from a day of classes (really- he was going to have a noodle cart, why did he need classes?) and his body from soccer with friends after. As he stepped in, dropping his shoes, Davis threw his bag onto the computer chair. On the other side of the room Veemon was laying on his back in bed, watching the TV.

"Have you even moved today?" Davis asked the digimon with a rather accusatory tone.

"Have you even..." there was a short pause, "Showered toda- this week?" Veemon countered with an equally sharp tone, Davis's scent quickly filling the room.

Davis rolled his eyes and laughed. He tossed off his shirt, landing on the poor, abused computer chair as well. He rolled onto the bed, scooping up veemon and laying back. They ended up belly to belly, Davis holding around the veemon and laying on his back.

"You saw me go out in my towel this morning, remember?"

Veemon grumbled and fixed his vision back on the television.

"Well yeah, and if you weren't such a numbskull you'd notice I did that apocalymon-size pile of laundry you've let build up the past two weeks. Y'know how hard it is to haul that to the laundry room when I'm a rookie?"

Davis laughed at veemon's grumpy tone. He leaned down and squeezed the rookie, kissing atop his head.

"Thank you. Next time ask me to digivolve you."

Veemon squirmed playfully, but relented to the affection.

"Yeah, that's all I need, people staring at my gorgeous Flamedramon body."

The image of the girls downstairs fawning over Flamedramon, carrying a huge sack of dirty laundry, made Davis laugh out loud for a bit. Veemon gave a huffy pout. He laid his head down again, watching the television.

Davis's hand slid down along Veemon's back, comforting the little guy. He began teasing the spikes that ran along the small blue dragon's spine. He chose not to continue the conversation, instead turning his attention to the television as well. Veemon loved humorous material- which meant the TV was almost always on ridiculous game shows, now being no exception. Davis watched a moment before tilting his head back, resting an arm behind it.

They watched the show a while. Davis only watched them for Veemon's sake. The digimon did go out now and then, but among digimon he was a bit of a celebrity. Humans had much shorter memories, and Davis managed to shrug off most attention- Veemon had learned a distaste for constant attention and recounting old tales, despite how much he relished it earlier on. Davis worried about isolation for the poor guy. Most of Veemon's life was Davis, when Davis was free.

Davis's thoughts remained on Veemon's welfare for a bit. He considered encouraging Veemon to join some digimon clubs on campus again. Or possibly starting up a digidestined hangout now and then, all meeting at some central location. His mind didn't remain there long, distracted easily as always. His fingers were wandering along Veemon's spine, from tail base to the highest spike on his back. But he started to feel something hot, wet against his belly. His hand wandered lower. It had been a few days, after all. And they would never talk about it; the heat was the only sign Davis really needed to know.

Davis's hand slowly caressed lower. His fingers wrapped around Veemon's tail base, squeezing firmly, tugging on it gently. His eyes remained on the TV, but he knew what was happening. Veemon's soft gasping and whimpering sound meant veemon's eyes were closed, the dragon-digimon pressing tighter against Davis's bare torso. Davis could feel it well now- each feature defined. The thin ribs along it, the hot, conical pink flesh, three and a half inches pressed against his belly. And the mess- oh, how much mess there was. Digimon were programmed with excess in mind, Davis was sure, as pre dribbled down the side of his belly already.

Davis's hand explored. Both their eyes were fixed on the TV. They didn't talk about it; even the first time, it just happened, and they'd never spoken a word about it since. From gripping and tugging Veemon's tail base, his hand sunk lower. It caressed the small, firm cheeks of Veemon's rump. He listened closely for veemon's pants, his little whimpers and moans. His fingers explored deeper, until they rest upon Veemon's taut little hole.

A soft gasp came from the small digimon. Davis couldn't help but get a cocky grin. He closed his eyes, rolling his head back, face pointed to the ceiling. It was wonderful to feel, to hear the small beast- infinitely stronger than Davis was- to tremble and whimper under his touches. His fingers were persistent, not letting up. They circled and stroked the small hole, pressing against it. The pressure steadily increased with each circle and stroke. The small hole was slick with the natural moisture of Veemon's undertail. That helped as his finger slowly pushed in.

It was a key moment. They didn't speak about it; it was all signals, all touches, all sounds. If Veemon's tail pressed down, Davis would know to draw away. But it didn't. It lifted, stretching the already tight hole even further. Davis pressed on, knowing Veemon had prepared. The little dragon might whine, might complain, but the love between the two was obvious. Veemon had already cleaned out, prepared, knowing when Davis would be home.

Davis pressed his finger deeper, deeper, and deeper still. It was impressive, but not as impressive as what would come later. The digimon took him to the knuckle, despite being a third his body height. Davis's finger curled, explored, and found that sensitive, firmer nut of flesh. He stroked along it, pressed on it, massaged it. He traced circles around the slick, soft flesh around that thick gland, then teased it again. Veemon's eyes were closed now as well. His small muzzle was tucked into the pit of Davis's raised arm, the television forgotten. The small dragon took in Davis's scent, reveling in it. He became saturated in the feel, scent, sound of his unacknowledged lover.

Davis felt almost merciless, teasing the small dragon upon his belly. Davis's stomach was now soaked in pre, the bed beneath him a hot, wet mess- but he couldn't care less. He loved the spice of his little Veemon just as Veemon loved his own, the bed sheets they slept within a reminder of their sensual touches and relationship.

His finger worked inside the small digimon, teasing and twisting, for a good while. The more pre Veemon dribbled upon him the better. It was almost sadistic, to work the now gasping, whimpering, almost pathetic male. And Davis couldn't help but savor the heat, knowing soon he'd enjoy it more intimately. Veemon's internal temperature was much hotter than Davis's, giving a pleasure Davis could never find anywhere but his fiery little lover. Davis walked the line of sadistic pleasure and guilt for a brief moment before he drew his finger out. He didn't want to work the digimon too hard, lest he be sore for further activities.

Davis drew his hands up, caressing Veemon's back and sides again. The little digimon quietly panted against his chest. For a minute, five, ten, the digimon panted, his hips thrusting beyond his control, drunk with lust. When the thrusts finally slowed, and stopped, Davis continued. His hands slowly explored along Veemon's back, back spines, tail. Every inch, every detail was his from years of experience. Now his fingers went from this spot to that, teasing the places that made his little lover tremble.

Finally, after his long teasing- which was entirely warranted, given the endurance of digimon, Davis made his next move. He moved his hands to Veemon's hips, lifted. Fourty five pounds of powerful dragon was lifted, turned, lowered. Veemon's shaft now rest between Davis's ... not quite pecs, balls resting at his collar bone. The target was closer to his lips, while Veemon had a perfect view of Davis's tented shorts.

Davis got to his job. Even after these years, Veemon had to be prepared, had to relax. It was much better than it used to be, of course- Veemon could fit Davis now, which was amazing given Veemon's short stature. But it took work. Davis dragged the digimon back by his tail base, earning a submissive whimper from Veemon. Davis leaned closer, sniffing a little. A habit, a small check to make sure Veemon was ready. Clean, pungent musk filled Davis's lungs. The small digimon's scent was powerful and quick to build. But it's what Davis wanted, expected. His hands slipped to Veemon's thighs and held tight. He leaned in, his nose slipping comfortably between Veemon's tail and rump cheeks. His lips met perfectly with Veemon's tailhole, as though they were meant for each other.

Practice had given Davis just the right touch. He teased around Veemon's rim with his tongue tip. Firm, teasing pressure around the pucker. He drew up into the nook between Veemon's tail base and ass crack, then back down, making another circle. The digimon panted, needing. He pressed back, his arse pressing firm against Davis's face. His motions begged, his breath panted with need. But it wasn't time yet. Davis made another lap, his stiff tongue tip teasing along the center of that tight pucker, back up to the tail base. He liked the taste there, sweaty, salty, and masculine. Then it ventured back down to the soft flesh of Veemon's tail hole.

Veemon would only take teasing so long. Veemon's large hands reached forward, gripping Davis's shorts. They pushed down his thighs, the dragon digimon insistent. Davis's jock followed soon after, his shaft finally freed from an uncomfortable prison. Veemon quickly drew back, but it was no use. Davis's cock was hard and eager. It slapped him right across the muzzle, springing from its confines. Practice let him shift so the cock avoided the digizoid horn upon his nose. The smart sting of it across his muzzle still got the digimon, though. Got him harder, even, at that. Veemon's hips shifted forward, digging his stiff length into the puddle of pre between Davis's pecs and belly. His toes curled as a tongue sunk into him, his lips eagerly mouthing upon Davis's shaft.

Veemon brought his hands up, into the mix. They were the equalizer between himself and Davis. His hands were large for his size, the same as Davis's own, but so much softer and a pleasant texture upon his digimon hide. He gripped Davis's stiff shaft. The dumb, cocky boy now sported quite the piece. The dumb ones always seemed to have quite the package, and as an adult- though it was laughably small when they first met- Davis now sported a good, meaty eight and a half. Now stiff, the shaft would easily go down Veemon's short muzzle, throat, and tease the sphincter to his stomach.

Veemon dug his hips back as Davis's tongue sank to its depth, demanding more of the sensual touch. Veemon trembled, clenching around the invader. It burned with a familiar stretch. The feeling was pleasant, a tinge of pain paired with a deep need for his lover. Veemon repaid the gesture, taking Davis's cudgel of a cock and squeezing it with his two hands. Davis grunted against Veemon's arse, hips pushing forward. Veemon moved his hands up in time, not letting that copious foreskin Davis sported slip along the head. Davis's hips began to rhythmically thrust with a feral, instinctual need, but Veemon was well practiced. His hands went up and down tight the cock, Davis's copious overhang remaining just that. He simply alternatively squeezed between his two hands, forcing blood up and down the shaft. Every squeeze of his right hand made Davis's glans bulge obscenely in the hood, the outline defined so perfectly through the tight hood. Veemon loved it, the sweaty, soft cock flesh under his palms and fingers, the heady spice of Davis's personal scent. He leaned in and nuzzled into Davis's pubic hair, just at the base of Davis's cock, taking a deep whiff and sighing happily.

Their sensitive balance shifted. Davis drew his tongue out of Veemon. His lips worked to Veemon's tail base. He bit it, his lips working around the tail base and pressing firm. Veemon quickly pushed his hands down, knowing he was pressing the limits. His lips caressed along the top of Davis's cock while his eyes eyed up along the tip. Davis's thin, but copious hood peeled back slowly. The lips of his deep-red glans peeked out. The hood continued to peel back. Veemon kissed up toward its opening. He grimaced as he got to the tip. So long used to it as he was, the scent was a wallop. Davis's bare glans showed proud, bulbous and dark. Frenulum stretched tight, earning Veemon a pathetic whine from Davis, pleasure overriding the human's senses. Along the lower portions of the crown were flecks of white, and a semi-ring of the grime in the deep foreskin groove behind the head.

Davis's hips pathetically bucked up to the hands but Veemon held fast again. His hands held where they were, not allowing Davis's copious hood to stroke up and down along his glans. Davis grunted and leaned in, shoving his tongue in and right into Veemon's prostate. The small mon bucked forward, spurting copious pre down to Davis's navel. He grunted indignantly and leaned in, his tongue pressing around Davis's glans. He couldn't blame Davis for having a long, productive foreskin- he knew it had been cleaned that morning. Veemon had gone down on Davis in far worse a state before, anyway- he'd grown used to the taste, where the flavor of internal digi-cock still made Davis gag now and then.

A pungent taste spread across Veemon's tongue and invaded his throat. His muzzle tilted forward and down, paw guiding the cock to point up toward Davis's head. A third the shaft fit easily in Veemon's huge maw, not even using his throat. The offensive taste melting away after a couple moments, the offensive buildup slipping down Veemon's throat. The taste was replaced by the rich, pleasant taste of human cock. Veemon loved the taste, his body reacting to it. He felt pleasure heat his loins, his tail hole relax around the tongue in it.

Davis could feel the change. He pushed Veemon's hips up, tongue drawing out. Veemon's lips sunk to the root of Davis's shaft, making the human gasp and grunt up against his lips. Davis's heavy orbs drew up a moment, thick pre spurting heavily down Veemon's throat. Davis relaxed back, panting with lust. Veemon drew off, both their jobs done. Veemon was relaxed and lubricated under his tail- lubricated as human saliva could be- and Davis's throbbing length was covered in thick digi-drool.

Veemon took the initiative and began turning. Davis had little patience, hands going to the small digi's armpits and lifting him. Years ago this pace wouldn't work, Veemon too sensitive, too tight. Now Davis could let his lust take hold. Veemon's feet rest on his belly for a brief moment, fighting the pressure, before they slipped aside. Davis's hands let the digimon lower, feeling the taut little hole sit upon his cock tip. Davis slipped his hands those slim blue hips. Davis shifted his hands down, pressing Veemon to a familiar position. Davis's hips pressed up, his bulbous head pressing against a hole so tight and small.

Veemon grunted, gritted his teeth, but watched. He loved the expressions. Davis's eyes were always closed at this point, but that made it even better. Davis didn't know how his jaw tightened, his lips pulled back in a snarl as he pressed against a passage smaller than he was made for. The way Davis bit his lip as Veemon's hands pressed to his chest, claws digging against the flesh oh-so-gently, made Davis jerk forward. Veemon's smaller shaft flexed hard with it, further drenching Davis's chest.

The best was that moment. Where his tight under tail relented, where Davis's head sunk in and his hips quickly halted. The glans throbbed within Veemon, Davis's face showing pleasure and relief, the tension finally leaving. Davis's eyes slowly opened, looking to Veemon's. Neither spoke a word, but their eyes met. Veemon's let Davis know it was okay, and his hands pressed down further. Veemon loved the care Davis took, so sure not to injure his little lover- And Veemon loved the rough savagery that took over when care was no longer needed.

With his glans in, and the conformation from Veemon, Davis relented to lust. His shaft sunk deep into the digimon. When they began having sex it was just the glans; then an inch, then two, and three. A year and a half later his entire length could rest in the digimon, which panted and whimpered and whined from the pressure within. Now Davis shoved in without heed, his length hilting in the small sex toy of his lover. Veemon let out a little squeak, a sound that Davis loved so.

Davis let a moment's rest, not truly a sadist at heart. The small dragon panted, sweated in his lap, insides surely tense by the intruder. They clenched, rippling upon the shaft within, hungry for more. Davis could see the faint bulge of his cock, from pelvis to chest, within the digimon. He held, held, waited... his love for Veemon outweighing his biological need.

Veemon's eyes shut again, head pointed to Davis's chest. Veemon's hands explored up, the dull claws teasing the sensitive flesh of his partner. They found Davis's nipples, long familiar with their location. He squeezed and began tweeking the nubs of flesh and small areolas around. Davis gasped and bucked up, just as Veemon knew he would. Their sensual rhythm began. Veemon rest his weight upon his feet, down on the bed, letting Davis thrust up into him and draw out from him. Davis's hands helped guide the digimon as his cock slipped in and out, the saliva just perfect to allow Davis's cock movement, but for Veemon's tight passage to stroke Davis's long hood up and down along the stiff core and swollen glans.

Their rhythm was steady, practiced, well known by both of them. Veemon shifted up and down as Davis thrust, working himself upon Davis's shaft. Davis trembled, a hand going from Veemon's hip down to the bed below them. The sheets gathered between curled fingers, tugging against them. Veemon's tight passage was stimulation; the excessive heat of the small dragon's body atop it was torture. Davis's body worked on its own, breeding the smaller being above him.

Davis's eyes winced, teeth grabbing hold at his lower lip. He bit hard, trying to delay what was building. The first times Davis came against Veemon's tail- the... many, many first times. Then he'd come as he entered; then seconds... finally a minute. Even after years, he'd never reached two. Veemon loved it, his claws teasing Davis's sensitive nipples, his insides tugging against the sensitive flesh of the human inside him. Veemon was the master at a computer, each switch and touch and motion controlling the human beneath him, making every little gasp, twitch and moan he wanted.

As satisfying as it was, it was also over far too soon for Veemon's taste. It always was. In some ways it flattered him, in others it was disappointing, to feel Davis's balls draw up under his tail so quickly. The human's grip tightened, his teeth bared. His body trembled in arrhythmic twitches, his shaft badgering deep against Veemon's insides with some genetic need to mate. Then it hit, seed filling him, spreading a warm through Veemon's chest, stomach, slowly seeping into his limbs. Even without orgasm, it was a most welcome feeling, a sense of being filled and whole, to be together with one so close. Veemon panted at the sensation, a wonderful afterglow long before his own would arrive.

Davis's fingers dug at Veemon's hips as the rookie began to rock and rhythmically clench upon the flesh within him. A hiss escaped between Davis's teeth, to Veemon's delight. He loved how sensitive and pathetic humans were after they came. More than anything, it kept Davis attentive to the fact Veemon was still awaiting his own turn.

The hands on Veemon's thighs quickly lifted him up and off the softening cudgel of Davis's masculinity. Veemon assisted, his feet pressing to the bed. The thick, meaty, and oh-so-moist sound of Davis's length splatting upon the human's belly was music to Veemon's ears, the sound of a job well done. He glanced back, spotting the dark, heavily hooded flesh, laying upon Davis's happy trail and up past his navel.

Veemon turned forward again, his breath a little quicker now. He watched Davis, curious how the human would get him off this time. Davis would never ask, of course. Their pants and grunts were their language; men didn't talk about what they were doing.

Davis lifted Veemon a bit further, blue soles leaving the bed's tousled- and very rarely made- bedding. Veemon's grin spread as he was turned, his feet returning to the bed on either side of Davis's neck. Davis's hand slid to the base of Veemon's tail, squeezing and pushing it up.

Veemon's actions were somewhere between eager and impatient- as Davis was quite used to. Veemon sat back and pressed a hand to Davis's chest, lifting his feet up off the ground. The human grunted, his nose dug between the base of Veemon's tail and his slim arse cheek. His lips rest, practiced, against Veemon's tail hole. The passage was a bit looser form its use, the pungent taste of Davis's own cock and vigorous sex on the hole. Veemon moved his hand down. The sizes of his rather large hands and his less impressive shaft made masturbating a bit different for Veemon. His thumb laid along the top of his shaft, his middle and ring fingers along the belly of his shaft, his dull claw tips pressing against the slit his shaft had slipped from.

As Veemon began to thrust into his fingers, squirting pre into his palm, Davis got to work. He pressed against Veemon's weight, eagerly pressing his lips and tongue against the passage. His tongue swirled around the passage, but the time for teasing was over. Davis's tongue pressed deep into Veemon, lapping along the hole and into it over and over. His tongue tip cold tease and lick at Veemon's prostate, drawing grunts and huffs from the thrusting digimon.

Veemon's hand spread across Davis's chest, getting better purchase. His thrusts became more vigorous, his small shaft slipping in and out of his fingers. He began squeezing harder, pushing his dull claws against the base. They caressed against his male slit, his erection having tugged them forward, making the white lips avert and expose the pale pink flesh just within.

Davis's tongue matched Veemon's rhythm, prodding and caressing with each back grind, teasing up toward his tail base with each forward thrust. Davis's hand alternatively tugged on Veemon's tail base, then pushed it upward, stretching the taut muscles between the tail and Veemon's tailhole.

Davis's other hand wandered up and down along Veemon's thigh and foreleg, teasing atop his large blue foot. Toes wiggled and dug into the sheets, getting better purchase. Veemon collapsed forward, his hand pinned between his white belly and Davis's tan chest. Davis leaned his head up and licked along Veemon's tail base. His hand slid up from Veemon's foot, two fingers pressing into the mon's slightly gaping passage. Davis began to firmly massage Veemon's prostate, pressing and stroking along it. Veemon's pants turned to grunts as he thrust with feral lust into his fingers. His lips drew back, a snarl across his small muzzle.

The buildup spread through him, a heat and pressure from his groin, spreading in tingling waves up his chest, back to teased base, down to his toes. His toe claws sank into the sheets, going onto his toes as his thrusts became rougher still. He felt his hand reach and grab Davis's hip, bracing better to rut into his large hand. Even the buildup took ages, his lust and heat spreading through his whole body. It almost felt like digivolving, the energy building a fire inside him. And finally, just like digivolving, the release came.

The energy spread through his entire being. Every square inch of his blue and white skin tingled and prickled with pleasure, every muscle in his small body burned as it tensed. Finally, the pressure released. Shot after shot after shot poured into his hands, easily three, then four times Davis's release- which was by no means unimpressive on its own. Veemon's orgasm drew out a good minute, even after he finished shooting, his shaft tensing hard into his hand, over and over. As he got close, ridges had formed along the belly of his conical member. The turgid texture stroked across his fingers over and over. Finally his hips slowed, relaxed, his weight slumping fully against Davis.

Veemon rest a moment, panting. His body was hot against Davis's, flesh feeling like a dangerous fever for a human. Davis loved it, his fiery little lover so hot against him. Davis's head rested back, staring at the ceiling. His shaft was half hard, but left ignored, rather basking in the pleasant emotions of afterglow. He felt Veemon's breath against his foreskin, only a couple inches before the digimon's snout. It slowed from pants to shallow breaths as Veemon relaxed.

A while passed, each enjoying the relief, the heady scent of their love in the room. Something akin to worn jockstraps and heady semen scent. Veemon's easily outweighed Davis's, the thick spunk now painting his entire torso a rather pungent creation. Whatever code had led to digimon sex had been written in a rather excessive way, if Veemon was anything to gather the knowledge from.

The blue little dragon sat up and slipped off Davis's torso, to the ground. He grabbed a towel from the floor and wiped cum off his chest and belly, groin, legs... it was most everywhere. His male vent was little a little pink, his shaft tip hanging just out. Veemon tossed the cummy towel atop Davis.

"Gonna shower. Don't want to start smelling as bad as you." The Veemon went to the small closet in the dorm room, grabbing the small, waterproof pouch containing soap and a clean towel.

Davis sat up, cum dribbling down his torso and into his happy trail, his pubic hair, onto the bed. He took the towel, wiping the excessive seed up off himself. His head still swam in the scents, the tastes of his digimon. The effect of digimon sex upon humans was awesome, the first few times Davis having passed out from the experience.

Davis lifted his arm, sniffing at his own pit.

"You wish you could smell this good." His arm lowered, "All the ladies would be all over you, just like me."

Veemon scoffed and shook his head, heading to the room's door. Davis swung his legs off the bed and quickly pulled shorts and a t-shirt on over his cum-tacky skin. He grabbed another towel, following Veemon to the shower, as though nothing had happened between them, neither acknowledging their special connection.