Chapter 30

“Come on,” Zoey said. “You’re saying you’re not even curious?”

“No. I’m not.”

“I know you’re lying. You’re me.”

“Clearly not.”

“It’s the same thing as masturbating.”

“Hardly.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Pretty sure masturbating doesn’t include cock going into a pussy,” Not-Zoey sneered. “Honestly, with how much you’ve got down there, do it to yourself!”

Zoey paused.

“Oh my god,” Not-Zoey said. “Not actually. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not! I was just.” She shrugged. “Never thought about it.” She’d considered her ability to suck on herself, but never ... putting it into herself in the more traditional sense.

“Would it even work?” Not-Zoey asked.

Zoey blinked. She considered it. “It’s still a bit flexible when it’s hard,” Zoey said. “So, uh, maybe? I think it’d be easier to get it when it’s only half-hard. And then, um, when it filled up, it’d...”

A long silence.

“That’s kind of hot,” Not-Zoey said. “Try it.”

“I’m not trying it! What the hell? You’re supposed to be the not-perverted one.”

“We’re the same person, dumbass.”

“So you want to see me fuck myself, but not—”

“You fuck yourself?” Not-Zoey sneered. “This is getting old.”

Okay, maybe they were the same person; she was taunting Zoey in the same way Zoey would’ve taunted Not-Zoey.

“I’m not putting my own cock into my own pussy,” Zoey said flatly. “I’m not that perverted.”

“Irony? Hello?”

“Shut up.”

“Also—yet,” Not-Zoey said.

“Huh? What do you mean, yet?”

“Please. We know where all this,” she waved around, as if to indicate their lives in general, “is leading. You’re trying to fuck a clone of yourself—you think you won’t play around, at some point? I know for a fact you’ve thought of sucking yourself off.”

“That—that was just a thought. I never actually planned to.” She didn’t know why she was defending herself to herself; the only reason Not-Zoey knew that tidbit was because it had happened before their consciousness-splitting. And hell, it was normal to wonder what her cock would feel like in her own mouth. To most people, it just wasn’t possible; they didn’t have fourteen inches. Lost in the haze of lust, anyone would try it. And Zoey hadn’t even, yet. That made her less perverted than average. So, there. Proof.

“You’re not fucking me,” Not-Zoey said, as if coralling them back to topic.

Zoey collapsed into the bed and huffed. “Well, what else are we doing until our saviors arrive?”

Not-Zoey was quiet for a bit. It had been a rhetorical question, so the eventual answer surprised Zoey.

“I guess ... I don’t want you inside me ... but we could still have some fun.”

Zoey blinked and sat up. Not-Zoey blushed under her questioning gaze.

“I’m just saying, it’s practically masturbation, isn’t it?” Not-Zoey said, contradicting her own stance from a minute earlier. “And ... since we brought it up ... I’ve been wondering what it tastes like. Sucking my cock isn’t as embarrassing as sucking ... yours.”

Zoey almost pointed out how that made no sense, before realizing Not-Zoey had offered to give her a blowjob. Her cock started to swell with blood, quickly growing to full mast. “Not remotely as embarrassing,” Zoey lied in agreement. “And it gives us something to do.”

“Right,” Not-Zoey said. “Gotta pass the time somehow.”

They stared at each other, blushing. It’s me, for fuck’s sake. Why is there so much tension?

Zoey shuffled against the bed until she was leaned against the backboard, pillows supporting her. “Set your own pace.”

Not-Zoey hesitantly crawled over to her; she’d been seated on the opposite end. My own tits shouldn’t be turning me on. But they were so perfectly shaped, and all Zoey’s monkey-brain registered was a cute girl—not herself, even if it was—shuffling across the bed toward her, naked body fully on display, with her eyes locked to Zoey’s cock.

Not-Zoey lined up to Zoey, situating her legs across Zoey’s own. Zoey had an excellent view of her own pussy. Her cock pulsed. I really want to know what it feels like.

I’m such a pervert.

Not-Zoey’s hands quested out, wrapping around Zoey’s member. It twitched in happiness.

Not-Zoey laughed, suddenly. “You know,” she said, “I think this is maybe a moment for self-reflection. We should talk about us.”

“Us?”

“Delta brought it up. Why don’t you use your other part? You know. What God gave you.”

Zoey couldn’t help but hunch forward in defensiveness, even if the person asking the question was herself. “Dunno. Just haven’t.”

“Let’s be honest with ourselves,” Not-Zoey said. Her hands wrapped around Zoey’s cock were highly distracting. “Is it because you like topping? And it feels more natural to top with this?” She squeezed Zoey as if to emphasize what she meant.

“Where’d all this confidence come from?” Zoey asked, breath growing labored at Not-Zoey’s hands. A second ago, Not-Zoey had barely been able to look at her straight. Now, she was stroking up and down and interrogating her.

“Dunno. Ask yourself. We’re the same person, remember?” She grinned.

Zoey was silent for a while. It was a heavy question; and the pleasuring of her lower half—by her own long, slim hands—made it hard to think. “I ... that might be it?”

“I don’t think it is.”

Zoey sighed. “Maybe it’s part of the reason.”

“Is it because it’s overwhelming?” Not-Zoey suggested. “And ... using both at once would make you feel weird. Different?” The words were as much admissions as anything else. Not-Zoey was speaking Zoey’s mind for her. “But we should get used to it. It could be a lot of fun.”

Another silence.

“It probably would,” Zoey sighed.

“You’re not weird because you have a cock now. Embrace it. You’re more than you were before, not less.”