The House She Gooned
Copyright© 2025 by Shad0wgoone
Chapter 12: The House They Gooned
Each part of that ‘computer’ was auctioned off to the lowest bidder. Desk included. Claire and Nadia were wise to not have any part of that machine remain in tact given the circumstances.
Nadia no longer wanted to goon alone. Claire always welcomed her. The nightly routine of seeing each other became just as important as gooning as itself. Over time, they both decided to buy a house together and built each room as they saw fit. Every room had a screen playing porn. Windows were blacked out. Neon lights were placed everywhere, and high end speakers were always playing classical music and porn. This was their home. This was their truth. Their perversion was everything.
Nadia perched on the edge of their shared king-size bed, her bare feet swinging idly between silken sheets. Nadia kept her promise. She still remained nude as much as possible for porn and Claire.
Every now and then, Nadia would catch Claire’s eye – those eyes that had once held a hint of something guarded, something almost professional, now sparkled with unadulterated desire, mirroring Nadia’s own.
“You think it worked its magic” Nadia asked, tracing patterns on the duvet with her nail. Claire chuckled, a low rumble in her chest that resonated through Nadia’s core. “Completely,” she said, tossing the box onto a stack of others beside their overflowing recycling bin.
“Remember when you couldn’t look at me without blushing? Now?” She crossed the room in a few long strides, kneeling before Nadia and capturing her lips in a kiss that tasted of freedom and shared fantasies.
“Now,” Nadia breathed into the kiss, “I can barely think straight when you’re near.”
Claire pulled back slightly, thumb stroking Nadia’s lower lip. “Good,” she murmured. “Because we have work to do.” She winked, a playful glint in her eyes that sent shivers down Nadia’s spine. Work indeed.
Their days no longer followed the rigid structure of deadlines and responsibilities. They were free now, tethered only by their mutual obsession. Porn and masturbation were the very fabric of their existence. The house throbbed with the low pulse of an endless stream of porn – multiple screens scattered throughout each room, casting a perpetual glow on their bare limbs.