Rocket’s Delight

Story by ShorkScribbles on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

After a won escort, Rocket is enjoying some private time with Venom


Rocket’s Delight

After a won escort, Rocket is enjoying some private time with Venom

“Flarkin’ bastards! ‘Had to mess with us!”

“Calm down, easy… We still successfully escorted the statue. We are fine. We did great!”

“I know! But it wasn’t so easy for me! Cunts, they busted three of my beacons!”

Still, as Mantis leaned forward with her hands out to appease him, Rocket passed a hand on his sweat-caked mohawk and fur, glancing around. The Wakanda Empire, well.. The Hall of Djalia looked downright cozy and pompous. Except for the traces of explosions here and there, the busted-up walls, the broken pillars, and that portion of a ceiling that had been destroyed. A little gift from Rocket. Nevertheless, even if they won and managed to bring the big Chrono-vibranium statue to the halls, it had been a somewhat Pyrrhic victory.

By the end, the opposing side had invested the Halls and turned them into a deathtrap with all sorts of magic and other shiny effects; Rocket thought he should have lost his tail twice per minute. But no… He did break a sweat, but he didn’t lose his tail… Or a limb. Or anything vital for him. In the end, like the others, he pocketed the Chronovium.

So far, Rocket hadn’t found a way to integrate it into his B.R.B tech entirely, but he was sure it could be a massive progress to find how to exploit the chronal energy stored within the material. And if he didn’t, well, he could still sell the excess to someone else like that Richard-stretchy-but-not-so-sketchy-human.

His gear checked, loaded back on his belt, and his mind feeling a bit at ease, Rocket Raccoon checked who else remained.

Mantis had gone somewhere else, maybe with Quill… The burning Human was gone, same as the massive spider-like armor and the tiny human inside. Though, as his eyes focused on the last member of the crew, Rocket’s red eyes narrowed.

“Flarkin’ slimy,” he said.

Sure enough, his swear was enough to catch the Symbiote’s attention before the hulking humanoid, covered with black and white slime, approached. The steps were heavy… But heavier was the presence as it approached, the head splitting into a toothy smile completed by an elongated tongue.

“Rodent.”

“What’s that? Again begging for my help?”

“We would be glad if you could indulge us. We were helpful during last fight… And we are sure you wouldn’t mind.”

“Hrmph… Pretty sure my fur’s kinda caked under that suit… If that’s what you ask.”

“It was not what we asked. But it would be satisfying. We have found a nest nearby.”

“Urgh… Hopefully better than last time. It reeked!”

“We promise, it is better.”

Well, it was a fucking lie. Or rather, it was another type of scent that made Rocket’s nose clog up. He frowned, grimaced… Though the stench would remain. At least, it wasn’t the stench of Symbiote protoplasm, filled by the squelching noises of all their flesh growing everywhere.

But that place reeked like no one had vented it in and had instead spent a whole year fucking inside. It reeked of sex, of sweat, and other horrors Rocket’s nose could pick, analyze, and put into perspective… Much to his displeasure.

“I don’t know what gets you off from this, seriously,” said Rocket Raccoon as he had his hand going to the front of his suit, on the zipper he lowered.

Small and not so imposing, the Raccoon was still a prime example of a Halfworlder. His fur was well-groomed by most standards, and his muscles were maintained with an adequate diet. His eyes were sharper, his ears and nose sharper… And though some spots of his tail were burned, from experiment, it was looking great.

However… The prize was below the blue jumpsuit he wore on most occasions. Gala, festival, ceremony, fighting, shopping, it was a piece of his story he wore like a badge and rarely removed… Except for some special moments. Much like when the front of his suit was entirely opened, revealing his furry torso… And genitals that were way too big to fit inside the suit through normal means.

Nevertheless, those apple-sized testicles almost flew out of the suit, right to land on a face covered with protoplasm slime, same as the uncut cock that smacked the slick and cold surface.

“That’s enough for you?” asked Rocket, releasing the zipper and stretching his legs, still sitting on the half-undone desk. The rest of the room was a mess, a mix of an office and a bedroom. But with his butt plopped on the flat surface, Rocket was downright comfortable to see Venom’s face contort in a grin. More than that, to see that elongated loll out while the Symbiote took a long, sharp breath… And sighed.

“We are enjoying your scent, Rodent.”

“Flarkin’ cunt. Get me some cleaning!”

He still didn’t know why and how their relationship really started. Rocket had no reason to trust the Symbiote, even though they met on Klyntar to handle Knull. However, after a few more missions with Venom tagging with the Guardians, it seemed the Symbiote had taken some affection. He would never say so… But the fact that he always followed Rocket, more than Groot, was a sign.

That and the fact it was Venom who offered to help “Clean” after one difficult mission when they had to hold a bastion for half an hour under constant assault.

It had been a request under the guise it was to “Thank you for keeping us alive”… But the result… Well, it ended almost no different than at that moment, with the Symbiote happily sniffing Rocket’s groin, taking whiff after whiff while Rocket returned to the pouch of Chronovium he had been given… Again… Money is money, and Rocket wasn’t against it as he counted the large purple crystals, smiling while he felt the Symbiote’s breath brush his hairy and sweat-caked nuts.

“Use your tongue properly, this time,” said Rocket, shaking his legs and kicking Venom’s hands off of them before he returned to his counting.

“We will.”

It wasn’t suave. It was only a statement from the Symbiote as he brushed his face against the fuzzy nuts again. Big, round, perfectly nestled within that tight scrotum, each orb would easily fill one’s hand. However, they were pretty warm to the touch. Excessively so, compared to others, so the sweat glands on it were constantly releasing a constant and musky stream, drenching the dark-brown fur. And so… It was with that scent, heavy with hints of powder, Venom filled his nose.

Whiff after whiff, the Symbiote was getting high on Rocket’s scent… And on his sweat, highly salty and dense on the tongue.

On one tongue that kept dancing, licking, brushing, and again massaging Rocket Raccoon’s heavy scrotum. Its prehensile presence could only be equaled by the softness of it, by the tender embrace it offered, and by the removal of the sweat-soaking Rocket Raccoon’s fur. But as it did, as it removed, there was more that was soon to be added as Rocket Racoon was still feeling warm, bothered… The local climate wasn’t to his liking, much warmer than most worlds he’d been to.

And so, as the Symbiote’s tongue licked and collected, it was more to be offered. More to be pressed against Venom’s face and for the skin to start… Absorbing it, too.

Steadily, a few tendrils expanded from the black, oily skin. They flailed around at it, almost like feeling the environment. Before they dashed and ran over Rocket’s hairy ballsack, caressing, stroking it too. And with it, Venom was feeling, inhaling, and licking again. More tendrils, more limbs, more sensations, the Symbiote could feed off as a loud purr emanated from it, completed by the satisfied grin and the half-closed eyes.

“That thirst, it never stops?” asked Rocket Raccoon, still going over his count and potential plans. With that much chronovium, he could try… Six new prototypes. Though he was sure he was close to the final version.

“No. Like our hunger. But we control it. As long as our thirst is satisfied,” replied Venom, the voice rumbling with that purr… That satisfaction as he was consuming that salty liquid in ample amount, while massaging and giving Rocket’s nutsack one tender caress after another tender caress.

It would continue, progress… More tendrils would go, until they ruffled the fur, strained it, collected the droplets from every strand. And that, without leaving any protoplasm somehow. And it felt… Great. Enough for Rocket to drop the Chronovium aside and recline back, on one hand, while the other went over… Well, his chest, muscular and fit. Over his waist, without excess. Over his groin, covered with a thicker coat. And finally his half-hard and uncut cock. The organ was swollen and swelling, blood rushing underneath the pink skin to make the veins bulge and the spire grow bigger…

Big enough, Rocket’s fingers were barely holding a portion of it, incapable of fully wrapping over it unless he went at it with two fingers.

It wasn’t… Natural or expected.

But so was Rocket Raccoon. And so was his body as his cock continued to grow, to the point he had to readjust his posture to accommodate the enormous organ that went up, then arched to point forward. The glans itself, with the foreskin slightly peeling back, delivered a few droplets of salty and slightly acrid precum… However, it wasn’t what Rocket Raccoon desired. He chuckled to himself, peeling on the foreskin as precum and sweat began to slide over it, covering the pinkish skin with that glimmering and slightly greasy presence.

“What’s so funny, rodent?” asked Venom, perking up while his neck craned. By then, his tendrils were somehow shifting, the skin rippling while they descended along Venom’s neck and chest, only for them to protrude from the collarbone and go at it with Rocket’s testicles, massaging them with two larger tentacles that were lifting and teasing the delicate orbs.

“Not your flarkin’ business,” growled Rocket, closing his eyes and sighing… Bliss. A blissful moment as he continued to peel the foreskin off, until its rippling skin had entirely left the glans and straightened around the tip. Then, he pushed it up, forcing the greasy mix to coalesce at the tip, forming one translucent blob. “But… It’s funny. People always think I’m tiny here.”

“You’re big. But you don’t look like so. We noticed that.”

“Yes. That’s plain spatial folding tech. I could do more with that, but I don’t have the gear.”

“We understand.”

Venom’s words were still low, prone to purring. But he was waiting, smiling, like a predator before Rocket Raccoon’s cock. The Symbiote hadn’t made his move yet, and so the Raccoon continued to pull up and down, making the precum and sweat slowly accumulated then descend along his frenum, his cock’s underside, until it dropped into the bushy scrotum, only to be collected by the black tendrils flaring around it.

“Fine… Have it, you hungry dipstick!” grunted Rocket, releasing the cock as it throbbed and somehow bounced a bit. Then it jolted when the Symbiote’s tongue coiled around the base, only then for the elongated appendage to slide and ascend… Steadily, ever so steadily. It was a coiling serpent, a beast… A hungry predator whose hunger and thirst could only be satisfied by the Raccoon’s fluids. And as the droplets were collected by the tongue, a sickly shiver overtook Venom.

“So good,” he said, articulating with his tongue stuck out.

“Yeah. That’s why you pay it so dearly. Rocket Raccoon, all for you, slimey,” laughed Rocket, stretching back and passing his arms behind his neck, showing off his damp armpits, each possessing a black spot on the fabric.

And Venom? Venom didn’t fight back, instead too busy purring while blissfully licking and worshiping Rocket’s cock. The tongue continued to progress, and soon, it reached where the foreskin formed folds. Right then, the tongue started to… Split. Reddish tendrils were expanding from all over the tongue, akin to little fingers going to rub and press against Rocket’s enormous spire.

Somehow, it wasn’t the freakiest sex Rocket had experienced. But with a Symbiote? That was the oddity, the novelty, the little pleasure ending in -ty that made his tail wag.

It felt good for one slimey, and the extending touch, spreading to all directions, was a nice addition… To a beefy bastard who could be a mess to handle during combat but had muscles and strength. Nothing beat like having someone bigger and nastier than you bending over like a pretty whore.

It was pleasing to have that tongue going in all directions, licking the air and licking the sweat, while it coursed in every direction.

Same as Venom, extended his arms and hands up, going over Rocket’s body. Instead of acting jumpy or swatting them away, Rocket allowed the Symbiote to be touchy-feely. If he so desired to touch Rocket’s fur, he was welcome to do so without leaving a trail of slime behind.

However, what the flarkin’ Venom did was… Well, most welcome and unexpected.

The Symbiote’s skin vibrated, akin to rippling water, along the hands and arms. However, as the surface touched Rocket’s fur, it seemed to change, to open, to welcome. And a slurping sound filled the room. Beyond what had been before.

While Venom was busy sucking with his mouth, having his tongue rolling and twitching and worshiping, his fingers and hands were becoming something like… Mouths. They slip, revealing tongues dancing on the fur strands.

They went and salivated over the fur, only then for the tongues to dance, lick, collect, and savor the sweat sticking to Rocket’s fur.

“Hey, slimey. What’s that? You’ve got a new trick?” asked Rocket, scoffing while he reached down, past Venom’s hands, to push that cock down, to shift the angle, to force the Symbiote to take… Not lick it. Suck it. Suck it so dry, Rocket was to feel sore and sorry for his future self.

“Yes. We found th-this trick! Are you happy, rodent?” asked Venom, smiling and speaking. Not with his mouth, mind you. But the ones sporadically appearing all over his body. All over his arms that stretched over Rocket’s body, until they encompassed his torso and began to massage it, with small tendrils brushing from the abdomen to the collarbone… And beyond.

Those hands, almost as large as Rocket’s head, were going up and down, the fingers stretching and somehow forming an elongated presence… One that widened, too, wrapping and encapsulating Rocket’s torso until the fur couldn’t be seen and only remained the black goo. Yet, Rocket wasn’t feeling… Yucky or drippy, like covered with protoslime, like their first time.

“Heh. What’s this? ‘Sure you could learn one thing or two, big guy.”

“We learn well. And Eddie had-”

“Yeah, yeah. More sucking, less talking.”

A dissatisfied growl escaped from the Symbiote. But far from fighting the order, Venom seemed to nod… And began to properly suck on Rocket’s cock, displaying the skills that made Rocket Raccoon partial to having Venom around.

That mouth, as toothy as it was… Was divine. The subtle caress of the tongue, the velvety walls, the eager throat, the saliva dripping, and keeping everything moist. Only a few holes in the galaxy could compare to this. And Venom? He had that, right for him. Right so long as he could get a taste of sweat, a whiff of musk, a sample of Rocket’s presence.

What was given was unequal. But it was on Venom to be so needy and yearning.

Rocket? He merely exploited the situation.

Such as when he reached for the Symbiote’s head, pressing against it until he had his fingers dig into the soft scalp to drag Venom closer… And closer… And closer.

With each tug, the gargling from the Symbiote was louder. Each time, it seemed Venom was pushing back more and more. And each time, Rocket was feeling how tighter the throat and hole was, even after many attempts.

He even felt the Symbiote over his chest, slurping his sweat like it was honey, tremble. Was it too much?

Nah. He even started to kick the air, in a juvenile display. Was it too much, especially as he kicked against Venom’s ‘nads and belly? A bit. But he still did, nonetheless, enjoying the tremor shaking the Symbiote as much as the slight freeze, the stops, and the moment when Venom seemed dazed… or angered. Or controlling his emotions so he could still be around Rocket.

Finally, with enough growl, Venom was back… To sucking. His tongue danced, coiled… And even one tendril started to roll to the tip so it could caress and tease Rocket’s urethra. Far from stopping him, Rocket leaned back further, still kicking… And watched… No, enjoyed as the tendrils over his chest started to progress and delve along his sweaty pits.

Much like his testicles, it was impossible for him not to be sweaty there. Impossible not to have a strong musky stench coming from it, merely from raising an arm. And from fighting all day in a suit? It was a moist jungle, a musky swamp, a chaos of fur and sweat. Venom darted many tendrils against until the pits were covered.

Each one was covered by the tendrils delving between each strand, each one carefully gripping a tuft of damp fur to straighten it. Then, as it was straightened, the tendril would tense and comb over the fur, collecting the little droplets resulting from squeezing the strands… Before that same sweat was collected and brought to the Symbiote’s arms.

From there, it produced the same reaction each time to Venom, even with those constant repetitions: the Symbiote would shake and purr like a kitten, ready for more… Doing more.

“You’re never gonna stop licking me? Right?” asked Rocket, smirking and satisfied even as the tendrils were going along his arms. No, more than that, they were going down his legs. They went on the muscular and fuzzy thighs, the knees, the calves, down to the kicking feet without even stopping them.

“You taste… Great!” confirmed Venom, his voice now coming from almost everywhere around Rocket. In a way, it was unnerving to feel his breath against his skin, to sense the touch everywhere and creeping up. But what could be said than it felt… Great.

It was great. And beyond that, there was still the wondrous sensation of Venom’s throat as he was choking on his dick… Enough that Venom’s throat bulged obscenely, imprinting on Rocket’s enormous cock. The veins could almost be drawn… And though the tip had vanished past the pectorals, Rocket could almost feel that esophagus tugging on it… Or maybe it was his stomach… Rocket wasn’t an expert in Human or Symbiote anatomy.

“Well then? What if we kick this off? Venom… Rub my cock.”

An order.

Followed then by what was… An entire body entirely controlled and dedicated to milking his cock. Now, those lips were closed, sucking on the shaft like it was the holy grail while the teeth were nowhere to be found. The lips sucked, even the gums pressed on the flesh as Venom started to move his head back and forth. He could do without, using his esophagus and making it ripple like waves, giving the impression of tugging on the skin back and forth.

But it was better… No, it felt better to watch that head bob back-and-forth, with purplish saliva frothing near the corner while Rocket’s cock seemed to throb, going up and down. With the back and forth, Rocket was fully aware of the bulge his cock was…

And so, he was aware of the effort Venom did to satisfy him as he saw the throat clench with muscles that could not exist, just for the purpose of yanking on Rocket’s foreskin, on the swollen corona. There was even a few set of tendrils that were happily stroking and teasing Rocket’s urethra, going at it with his large pisshole until they were thrusting inside his cock to get him going and releasing more of that sweet sweet precum.

Which he did.

It didn’t take long for Rocket’s cock to become a faucet of salty and delicious precum the Symbiote gulped down, echoed by the many mouths going all over Rocket’s torso. Some of them were fixated on his pits. Some on his belly. Some at the base of his cock, on his lower belly. A hefty chunk was on his ballsack, too, turning the brown-furry orbs in… Well… Dark-slimey orbs.

Every mouth was dedicated to slurping him… Except two that were on Rocket’s nipples, licking and sucking on them like he would produce some milk or something.

Rather, he wouldn’t… But the sensation was agreeable and completed the whole concert of touch, caresses, and strokes that was his body.

A concert in which Rocket could have let himself go, swallowed by the pleasure the Symbiote offered to him. And so… he sighed, craning his neck, feeling his groin heat up as the Symbiote’s tendrils delved down to his overworking and swollen prostate.

Already, the Raccoon was feeling hot and bothered… And excited. Already, his muscles were jolting around his abdomen, trying to tug on his testicles, entrapped by the Symbiote. He felt the tension growing in his groin, sensed the prostate tensing… More than that, he sensed how the Symbiote himself was holding his breath. The tendrils stopped, the tongue halted, the sucking ceased. It was as if, for one second, the world itself held its breath.

For two individuals, two aliens merely enjoying themselves in one dirty and dusty room.

Then, as the crescendo reached its peak, as Rocket felt his entire body tense like a rope… His feet froze. His nostrils filled with the musty aroma. Their breathing, his and Venom’s, became deafening. And then… it all stopped. Everything, nothing. What surrounded them.

The pleasure swept away, hit him across his body. It hit every cybernetic node, every little spare co-processors non-dedicated to combat and whatnot. It fried the internal sensors. It rewired the nervous system. It burnt connection after connection, leaving behind a jumble of scrambled data that was his sensory input.

But so when the mechanical parts were letting go and the organic side resumed its functions, Rocket was already… Far gone.

His scroungy face, often adorned with a smirk, was a mask of utter pleasure. His red eyes rolled, his tongue lolled out, his ears flicked… Even his nostrils were open wide to take in the aroma hanging in the air.

Everything… Everything was pleasure, blissful… Pleasure for Rocket as his lower reaches were working without direct orders, following on principles his cognizant self was unaware of and often ignorant of.

Below his waist, his prostate kept pushing and clenching, sending forth waves of cum mixed with precum. A hefty mix of fluids, dense, white, and gooey that forced onward… Right into Venom’s mouth and throat, without many options left for the Symbiote.

Not that Venom minded, his gurgling loud enough to be heard through the walls if one used their ears.

However, it was becoming evident that if Rocket was endowed, gifted by something beyond nature… Well, he was also endowing Venom with a generous amount of cum.

Of cum that kept pouring and swelling and pushing within the Symbiote’s recesses, pushing against his guts, against his stomach, against his intestine. The white flood wouldn’t stop or break. It continued, making that belly go from thin to swollen. From perfectly flat to rotund. From empty and hungry to replete and satisfied.

Yet, Venom kept swallowing and Rocket producing.

Yet, the tendrils kept licking and sampling the saliva, and the body producing it.

A dance, a status quo that was bound to fail as time went on. As it was certain Venom couldn’t keep up if it was to continue. And it did. As Rocket Raccoon kept his eyes closed, his humps humped the air and pumped, emptying gallons right into the Symbiote’s stomach until… The lips parted, and the Symbiote pulled back.

He pulled back with his mouth, with his tendrils, with his hands and arms… Until everything that had been coating Rocket Raccoon was back into his body, leaving a pristine and sweat-free Raccoon… At least, until the next physical effort.

But not cum-free.

With his cock still spraying forward, Rocket opened his eyes to see the Symbiote on his knees, looking defeated… And swollen, almost pregnant. But happily licking his lips despite the flow hitting that nasty face.

A flow that was soon to stop, to end… To turn into a rivulet before the two faced one another, with Rocket offering that smug grin once more.

“Well. Ain’t so hungry anymore? Feeling big enough, Slimey?”

But as he said that, before Venom could even say something else, Rocket outstretched a hand toward the chronovium.

“Not going to use all you’ve paid for?”

“Maybe… We have more room for you.”