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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Cassie</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content"><a href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/4561/" target="_blank">View attachment 4561</a></div>
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</div><br/><br/>Cassandra Nolan learned that she was adopted when she was thirteen and that had been an accident, a slip up from her parents in front of their newly made adolescent. At the time, she hadn't taken it well, but not because she felt deceived by her parents. Well – maybe a little. What had caused her to slam the door to her room shut then was the fact that they hadn't told her what she already knew sooner, or the fact that after she had cried her frustration in seething words in her journal that she kept under her mattress and had finally faced her parents again, they knew nothing about her real parents or who they were. But what Cassie really wanted to know was<i>what </i>they were.<br/><br/>She'd always been that smart girl that sat in the front of the class; a know it all who wasn't afraid to show that she knew what was up, and yet at the same time, she was finicky about the people she chose to spend her time. As an adult, she had only become even more of an introverted recluse. At twenty two, she had finished her degree in journalism and now worked for a blogging company and was paid by the article while she worked on her graduate degree. Part time, she had taken up working at the used bookstore five blocks away from the tiny apartment she rented in the Lower East Side of New York, New York.<br/><br/>Don't worry, she didn't live all by herself. She had Montgomery, Winston, Meryl, Angus, and Gertrude. Gertrude was her favorite, but she would<i>never </i>tell the others that the plump white Persian mix was her personal foot warmer at night and that was why she got an extra treat when she got home from work every night.<br/><br/>There had been Mildred too, before Angus had joined their family, but she had died at the tender age of just sixteen late last month. They had all thrown her a mourning party in memory and her Calico's face was still propped up on the mantle she had installed. Right alongside the Bobblehead figurine and Yoshi plush. It was all a fitting display against the ugly brick that was one of her walls. Second hand furniture made up the majority of the studio apartment. Even the somewhat lumpy mattress was an old college friend's before she moved across the country to enjoy sunny California and the four poster it sat on was something out of an estate sale up north, complete with twisting wooden poles topped with fanciful roses. A quilt that had come from her grandmother was tossed across it, the motley of squares different cats, which was strangely fitting.<br/><br/>Considering she had brought one more home. A sleek tomcat that she had found on her walk back from the subway, his front paw injured from a fight. But that was... how long ago was it? A month now? Maybe more? Right around the time she had met her new - and perhaps only - real friend in the city, Matt.<br/><br/>Last she had checked, the tomcat was sleeping now on the blanket she had given him, set up in the corner of the apartment away from the other cats that seemed to eye him warily from the back of the brown couch that had seen better days, or on top of the cat tree, where Angus swished his tail back and forth in agitation at the presence of another male cat that he had to contend with. But she hadn't been able to say no to the animal that had fallen in front of her, injured, literally on the side walk as if he had been looking for her. The vet had informed her that he would be fine, with time and care, and that had proven to be correct, as the tom had healed up more quickly than she had anticipated.<br/><br/>Then there was Gertrude who had propped herself at the very foot of Cassie's, watching the rest of the small space indifferently even though her human was up to no good.<br/><br/>Cassie had set up her laptop next to her on the bed and at an angle, the streaming site already loaded. The heady sounds of lusty groans and high pitched moans engulfed the tiny space, overriding the whir of the vibrator that the girl clutched in one hand while her other gripped the pillow behind her as she sucked hard on her lower lip. The fifteen inch screen displayed the erotic copulation of a pair of elves in the woods, the actors cosplaying their roles with her in a scantily clad tunic and pointed ears and him with his pants dropped and cock slapping the round curve of her ass while she clutched the tree in front of her.<br/><br/>Dark hair fanned out around her face and bright eyes were hooded with the arousal she had worked herself up to. Sprawled out on her bed like she was, she still wore an over sized t-shirt over her nudity, though her thighs were spread brazenly to allow the stroke of her toy between her legs. She provided her own lubricant for the occasion, her outer most lips damp and glistening with her own juices while the swollen pearl that peeked from between them throbbed greedily at every pulse of the little device that moved in a deliberate circle around it. She finally bit down on her lower lip as she moaned out loud when the elven woman in the porn looked like she reached her own orgasm. Her thighs stiffened out as her hips writhed up, her toes inside the fuzzy socks still on her feet curling as her head thrashed back. Her teeth released their hold on the tier as she emitted another, louder moan as the orgasm ripped right through her. Her hand spasmed around the vibrator before she tossed it aside as her body shuddered with the self-delivered rapture of self-stimulus, the sudden rush and flow of liquid between her legs making her squeeze them shut as she convulsed internally. Her heart pounded in her beast, her breathing labored as she shut down the laptop with a slap of her hand and rolled over, riding out the temporary euphoria.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="1302" data-username="@Theo" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1302/">@Theo</a>