#chub rub club

[lovertm]

pins by lydiawritesgood

[bunny-jpeg]

show-off (price's version)

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, filth, dirty talk, filming, mirror sex, doggy style, age gap (20s/40s)

simon's version | johnny's version | kyle's version

what belonged to price, belonged to no one else. that was sort of the rule. but that didn't mean that price didn't share... images. while the rest of 141 couldn't touch what was his, they could touch themselves to photos and videos of price's "puppy".

the cute little failed cadet that price swept away to a charmed little life. he told the boys you did better as a girlfriend than a cadet.

"ain't she a beauty?" price beamed over drinks on evening, "prettiest fuckin' thing i'd ever seen. let's me do all kinds of dirty things to her. she's my baby girl." then laughed.

even in a photo the other members of the team were chubbed in their pants. you just had this charm to you that greatly turned them on, you beyond gorgeous.

it made them a little jealous, and price knew that.

simon, johnny and kyle all woke up on the second day of their time off, to a video file in the group chat. the file was dense in size. what they didn't expect was the following.

you were in front of the mirror with price holding his phone camera. in the reflection was your naked body knelt in front of the full length mirror. price was behind you, he was nude as well. his built. hairy body was such a contrast to you.

you looked so small compared to him. like he had plucked you from the heavens and bounced you on his cock. you held onto the carpet under you as you rolled your hips.

"that's it darlin'." he said, "that's my baby girl." his voice was low, but picked up by the microphone on the phone. there was a nice sheen of sweat of your body as you worked yourself on price's cock like a good girl.

"john, please." you whimpered as you tried to keep yourself up right. withering on his cock was he stayed perfectly still. he was letting you do all the work.

"look up at the mirror, love. show the boys what their missin'." price chuckled as he rubbed his cock inside of you. the stimulation made you moan. when he saw that you weren't looking, he used his free hand to yank on your face till you were looking right at the mirror, "bad girl." he said, "and i was just gloatin' about ya to the team. tellin' them how much of a good girl you were for me. listenin' and, waitin' with legs open."

you whimpered as you continued to jack hammer your hips against him. there was a fire burning in your belly as you fucked yourself on price's cock. you made him promise that this wasn't going to be sent to everyone on base. price told you it was just "for the boys".

which meant simon, johnny and kyle all had the luxury of seeing you fuck yourself on their captain's cock.

"see how she is, boys?" he asked the camera, his eyes on the screen to make sure that they could see the video in the clearest definition, "ya gotta get yourself a good girl. ya keep findin' them at clubs and bars. don't bother, find yourself one who's eager to please. make her a better wife than a solider." price laughed before he buried his face in your neck and gave you what you craved.

movement of his hips.

you were practically face first in the carpet as price started to fully take over. the camera panned away from the mirror down to the back of your head as he took control.

your noises were so sweet they bordered on pathetic. the sounds of your wet pussy filled the room and easily caught on video. price got right in there, watching your pussy take him too his root.

"see boys." he said, "just find yourself a good girl like that. maybe if you behave, she'll tell her friends all about the task force." he laughed, the idea of your sweet friends ending up with someone like simon was almost adorable.

you whimpered and he held your head into the carpet, your ass right in the air as he started to really work at your pussy. your ass bounced with each hard thrust.

"pretty little slut." price laughed as he fucked you into the carpet, "knows how to keep her man happy, and it ain't from good cookin'!" he erupted in laughter as he just ruined your cunt.

his pace became ragged, his thrusts more desperate than before. he sole focus was getting to finish inside of you. but you beat him to it, you clawed at the carpet and whined. your pussy clamped around price's thick cock. you orgasm spurred his on and he almost dropped his phone as he buried his entire length into you.

a few heavy pants and he slowed down. he managed to focus himself enough to film himself pulling out his bare cock out of your sweet pussy. watching the stretch as the entire thing came out.

he pointed the camera one last time and asked, "ready for another round?" followed by a airy laugh.

you responded by lifting your head and nodded. you looked painfully blissed out. but ready for more. and price was going to give you more.

the video ended and a few minutes later, price sent a message.

rise and shine, boys! the message said, early bird gets the worm! followed by an image of your cum filled pussy as you laid on the carpet.

the rest of task force 141 was not embarrassed to admit the video and photo were quickly saved for later usage. what would they say, price's girl was just fuckable.

[alienpossession]

After a very demanding workout session and having several hours to spend before his date, Dean decided to slide into his Instagram and treated his close friends with some personal Q&A sesh

But, all the close friend and Dean himself are not necessarily of this world, to put it simply. Hence, the question that started to pile up might not sound like a series of question that you would ask in a normal human conversation

"How can you end up in his body? What's the trick? My host is a decent-sized jock and the battle to gain control over his body was crazy tough, cannot imagine yours,"

I just followed the manual, you know. Caught them off-guard and ensure that they are tired. He fell asleep inside this personal sauna after a grueling workout. Add the fact that he was cutting to prep himself for a bodybuilding competition, well, that's a cocktail for success to tame a beastly jock this size

"Is the sexual stamina better compared to your previous host, noting the size differences 😜😜"

LOL, sorry for the disappointment back then, Gustavo. There's not a lot of people that can withstand your sexual prowess anyway, but I'm definitely the top if we are ever hooking up again

"How do you handle the first 24 hours? The crash after all his memory become accessible must've been out of this world!"

Messed my bed like a baby, but it's cum and sweat instead of piss HAHAH. Yeah, crazy shit, dude is a horny, power-hungry muscle beast

"So, have you converted his significant others? Or do you plan to just mindfuck them later so they will be working as indentured labor?"

Nope, not yet. He lived on his own anyway so we gotta wait for the 4th of July break for it to happen. But the girlfriend already fell though, bitch never stood a chance once I plugged her throat with this monster, she was a sobbing flailing mess when mini-mes swarmed her throat and entire body. Now I told her to help out on slowly infecting my friends. Gotta do it subtly though, no reason actually, just love to play with those oblivious human

"Favorite thing to do as human, aside from sex obviously,"

To be honest, partying. It's just so nice being a 6'6", 225 lbs mass of a presence in a dark, packed club or even festival grounds with great music. I always have party or at least a night out inside my calendar for most of the week, such a blast. And of course, sex also involved to really spice things up, but honestly I don't mind if there's any sex or not as long as the party is lit

And Dean keep on answering all sort of other questions, thinking that his identity as a converted alien puppet remain hidden due to the close friends feature. But his little brother, a 21 years old sophomore living 300 miles away from him, took screenshot of every single close friend stories that Dean made, his mind distraught by the fact that his older brother practically no longer exist but his dick chubbed up to the point of leaking pre as his wildest sexual kink manifested in real time and happened to someone he personally knows.

So, like any horny 21 years old, he decided to rub one out while letting his brother stories played in loop. Should he confront Dean about all of this? Or will that risk him turned into a puppet too?

[himbosandhardwear]

A snippet from my latest WIP. Steve goes to a kink club looking for something in particular, and ends up with more than he bargained for...

The conversation becomes less fraught, lots of shop talk, which for a kink club is actually pretty boring. Steve does eventually apologize for their swift departure the night before, if only because he missed the show downstairs. And as much as he's willing to get into Eddie's pants, he really did have a great time with Diana, and doesn't want her to think he's forgotten about it.

“You can make it up to me another day, baby.” She reaches across the bar and pinches his cheek.

“Oh my god, stop,” he whines, rubbing his face. She wasn't being soft about it. He chubs up a bit.

“Actually,” she drawls, contemplative and possibly scheming, “I wanted to run an idea past you.”

“Yeah? What's up?” He tries to look cool, and not like he's praying she doesn't embarrass him in front of everyone.

She leans over the bar, into his space. She's ditched the corset for a comfortable T-shirt but her tits are still huge and are pushed up to her collarbones with the maneuver.

“You know how we said it was going to take awhile before we worked up to…that thing you really want?”

He nearly takes his own chin in his hand so he doesn't turn to see if everyone is listening to this. Of course they are, they're all sitting three feet away.

“Yep.”

“I was thinking, Eddie's better than me at that sort of thing.”

Time stops. He doesn't misunderstand her, he knows what she's suggesting, but the way Eddie goes stiff in his seat…

“Di.” His voice is reprimanding. Angry.

Steve's stomach plummets.

“Oh please, you know it's true. And we both know it's not really about sex with him, he just needs the set and release, so what's the problem? Are we not all adults here?”

Eddie doesn't want to. That much is clear. Despite what he'd said that first night. He's angry at her for even suggesting it, silently communicating that she drop it. Steve has to clear his throat before speaking.

“It's okay,” he says softly. “He doesn't have to do anything if he doesn't want to. I'm not worried about…I mean, I'm fine with what we were doing.”

Eddie turns to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Steve asks, not sure why he's being picked apart about this.

“If I don't want to?”

Steve goes to use his food as a reason to stop looking Eddie in the eye and finds he's somehow already eaten it all. Even the soggy pancake bits. Fuck.

“Yeah, man, it's cool. Don't even worry about it.”

“I am worried about it.” He turns in his seat and, fucking Christ, reaches out and physically turns Steve in his. Steve looks up in shock as their knees bump into each other. “Stop acting like I'm the one who hates the idea.”

Oh. Okay.

What?

“You're the one who said you had a preference for women. Remember?”

This is it. This is the moment that will make or break his chance with Eddie. He needs to think fast. Flirt or play it cool? With everyone watching he can't suddenly show his hand. This is so embarrassing. Fuck. Thinking fast has never been his strong suit.

“That was back when it was all sexual, though. Right? Like she said, that part hardly matters anymore. It's all about,” he looks over at Diana, trying to remember what she'd said that first night, “confronting trauma in a safe place?”

“Exactly.” She pats his arm and then turns to Eddie. “See? You're the only one here who sees an issue.”

Eddie shakes his head like he's trying to wake up. “Me? I don't- There's no problem. I just thought… Okay.”

The emotional rollercoaster Steve's been on has gone completely off the fucking rails, he's in freefall.

“Okay?”

He looks Steve over, like Steve's the one who might be fucking with him. “Yeah. I'm free the rest of the day. I assume you are too? Not a school day.”

Today?!

“No but, uh, tomorrow. Tomorrow is a school day.”

“So we do it now and not later tonight.”

Now?!

“Holy shit,” Megan says, which reminds him, horrifyingly, that other people are still here, “are you a school teacher?”

He somehow manages to rip his eyes away from Eddie long enough to answer her. “Guidance counselor.”

She coos over this, and immediately wants to know if all the kids have a crush on him. He almost says, no, of course not, but he realizes on the spot that it's not true and Matt Owens had a very obvious crush on him two years ago. Embarrassing.

“I mean, maybe. But nothing too bad.” He knows his face is still red, so he probably looks like he's trying to hide some kind of nefarious deed.

Eddie startles him when he places his hand down on Steve's arm again, leaning in to mutter, “Wait here, I'm gonna grab some stuff. Gimme ten?”

Sweat is gathering on Steve's lower back.

“Yup. No problem.”

“Cool. Meet me in Room Six.”

“Will do.”

Eddie leaps off the bar stool and half jogs downstairs. Everyone is suspiciously quiet. He looks back to find them all staring, various looks of excitement across their faces.

“What?”

Diana snorts. “Ignore them. They don't get out much. You want a shot of something?”

“Yes, please.”

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Title: If only he would say

Pairing: None.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 952

Warnings: None.

Summary: Dean was certain this case would be the death of him. Vetalas had been found to be feeding off this particular street. Their targets were pretty men, around six feet tall and in decent shape. There seemed to be no preference if the person was a dom or sub; they were just looking for food since the four victims had been two doms and two subs, all male. So, Castiel and Dean went into the club, in character and costume, as a different kind of bait.

A/N: Drabble for bingos. Thanks to my two betas @mrswhozeewhatsis and Chase.

Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo / Square(s) Filled: Accidental boner

Dean watched Castiel walk into the bar, confidence written on his face and how he held himself. He was a dom, if there ever was one. He could feel the blood drain south. It was frankly embarrassing how the just sight of Castiel had Dean chubbing up.

Dean was certain this case would be the death of him. Vetalas had been found to be feeding off this particular street. Their targets were pretty men, around six feet tall and in decent shape. There seemed to be no preference if the person was a dom or sub; they were just looking for food since the four victims had been two doms and two subs, all male. So, Castiel and Dean went into the club, in character and costume, as a different kind of bait. Sam, outside in the back alley near the employee exit, as backup.

But Dean didn’t expect Castiel to look like an entree—Castiel was dressed in a mesh, long-sleeved shirt with a belt buckle cover that said ‘Daddy’ on it. His thick thighs were clad in black jeans that barely held him, pushed into black cowboy boots. He walked past Dean, eyes scanning him from head to toe and, with a nod, then took a seat at the end of the bar. The angel did his own research in regard to the case and went to a different store than Dean, it seems. He must have gotten help because Dean did not take Castiel as a daddy.

Dean blushed under Castiel’s gaze, finished his beer, and signaled for another. Dean’s mouth was dry and he downed half of his new beer in one take. Castiel ordered a beer and turned around to look at those dancing. Not twenty minutes later, Dean nearly did a spit take when he found Castiel on the dance floor surrounded by two men in similar gear talking to him. With a shake of his head, they left him alone. Cas remained there dancing and he wasn’t bad. He had rhythm but his moves were somewhat lacking. Dean looked around scanning for a potential pair of men or a single male luring people to go out back.

Dean adjusted his own tight jeans as he glanced back at Castiel, trying to remain unnoticed, as he licked his lips and watched sweat slowly roll down Cas’ tanned skin into his top. Dean’s pleather harness was rubbing against his pectoral a bit due to the sweat, but he was fine. What Dean didn’t realize was that Castiel was watching him in return.

Sam, tired of couples stumbling into the alley for privacy and/or a smoke, decided to watch from the Impala. He texted Castiel and Dean this information, and then proceeded to the vehicle.

A few beers later, Dean was chatting with a nice-looking man who sat on the stool next to him for the last five or so minutes. Castiel, who had taken a dark corner booth with a whisky neat, remained observant of Dean and the man. The guy bought Dean another beer, subtly touching Dean on his arms and outside of his thighs. They began leaning into each other, as if whispering. Dean was touching the man back.

Suddenly, they both got up and headed towards the back. Once outside, the man slammed Dean against the wall and passionately kissed him while Dean worked to grab his silver knife from his back. The kiss ended, Dean sighed, and his partner grabbed Dean’s harness, throwing him at the dumpster only to be caught by a big, warm, hard chest and arms. Dean looked up, first noticing a smile with oddly pointed teeth and realized he was in danger.

“Shit!” exclaimed Dean.

Castiel slammed open the back door at Dean’s exclamation. Taking in the alley, the angel threw his angel blade at the vetala holding, which went straight into the creature’s shoulder driving a scream from the large vetala male. He dropped Dean on the asphalt ground as Castiel touched the creature’s forehead, the large vetala male’s eyes and mouth glowed brightly, burning the creature from the inside out before it, itself, dropped to the ground, hollow and dead. Meanwhile, the smaller vetala male was behind Castiel as the angel helped Dean to stand. Luckily, Sam heard Dean yelling and came running. Upon entering the alley, Sam continued until he was in range and hit the smaller vetala male with a silver knife in the chest. He ran up the creature, grabbing the blade, twisting it with a snarl until the monster dropped dead. He pulled the knife from its chest and cleaned his silver blade on the dead vetala’s clothes.

Dean stood there, heart pumping and adrenaline coursing through his body. His cock, which had been persistently chubby all night, had gone to full mast thanks to the fight. The hotness of Castiel throwing an angel blade right next to his head was not to be denied. The slight fear made the rescue and knife-throwing that much sexier. Dean was unable to hide his boner.

“Dean,” Sam groaned. “What did you do?” he asked before walking back towards the car.

“Shut up, Sam. I was making out with the guy,” Dean explained. His face heated up as he avoided Castiel’s gaze.

“Dean,” Castiel said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just a bodily reaction. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Dean’s face began to darken in color, ashamed of his reactions to Castiel while Castiel tried to console Dean. “Yeah, thanks, Cas,” Dean replied through gritted teeth, avoiding eye contact as he headed to the Impala. Castiel stood there a moment, eyes squinting at him and head tilted, trying to read Dean’s body language.

[pipwasreal]

Day 20: investigate + voyeurism

Characters: Charles Rowland, Esther Finch, Crystal Palace (mentioned), Edwin Payne (mentioned)

Content warnings: voyeurism, nipple play, exhibitionism

Charles has regrets.

They need information on the witch, don't they? And he's been using mirrors as windows for decades. Mostly just to keep an eye on his mum, but occasionally for... personal reasons.

He's limited his explorations to nearby strip clubs and, more recently, saunas. Places where people might reasonably expect to get a bit perved on. Probably not from afar by a teenage ghost, but still. It makes him feel slightly less guilty about it.

So when it occurs to him to have a little spy on Esther Finch's house the night before they break in, he doesn't think twice, just heads into the dark bathroom next to Crystal's room and passes his hand over the mirror above the sink.

A darkened living room, the mirror wall-mounted, based on the height and angle. Nothing to see there. A bathroom, steamy and unlit, a towel hanging on the back of the door. A bedroom with a lamp on!

Oh bollocks, a bedroom with a lamp on. How could he have known the witch would still be awake?

But there she is, popping up sideways from the bottom of the frame, twisting a towel up into a weird turban on top of her head.

She leans in close to the mirror. It's eerie, the way she seems to be looking straight at him. But of course she's just looking at her reflection, isn't she?

She's middle-aged but nice looking, even without any make-up on. She rubs some cream from a tub into her skin, tugging at her face as if to smooth out the fine lines on her forehead and around her eyes.

She leans back and oh shit she's naked, her tits hanging big and round and golden in the lamplight.

She rubs more cream down her neck and shoulders, over the tops of her tits. She gives her nipples a little pinch and rub with her black-painted nails and oh fuck Charles might have half a chub for a witch.

"Like what you see, you little pervert?" she says. "Kinda rude not to give me a show in return..."

It takes Charles a full second to remember that mirrorwatching doesn't usually include sound.

He frantically waves the image away, to the sound of throaty laughter. Despite not actually needing air, his chest is heaving. He feels tingly all over.

Crystal and Edwin can never find out about this.

[dogwittaablog]

Before some people jump on the “I can ignore his red flags for sex” train… let’s all remember his second favorite pastime

#tuggers anonymous #gripping clubs and rubbing chubs

I personally don’t think he’s capable of satisfying a woman entirely if he can’t tie a necktie or needs help rubbing one out. Just sayin…

Honestly he has much more concerning red flags then the tuggers and probably being all talk when it comes to women. I think you should all remember this is the same dude that tweeted "I hope those boys f*cked her good" regarding a girl who got assaulted LOL.

[chubbywangji]

Some new OC’s for WIP Wednesday. Baz is a dancer, Tristan used to be, both of them will end up chubby~

Sitting on his bed, among a heap of jeans he’d left in ribbons and shirts he’d burst out of or ripped while trying to button, Tristan hadn’t been able to look Baz in the eye while tearing up and confessing that the club’s management had kept giving him extra chances to slim down again, but gaining over a hundred pounds from when they’d hired him had been the final straw.

So, a realistic mindset and assessment of Tristan’s habits could absolutely believe that, since adopting some of Baz’s fat clothes to wear himself, Tristan had gained another seventy pounds. Part of Baz struggled with believing that Tristan had only gained that much. Surely, eating the way he did must have added more weight to his frame than that, especially considering how, these days, Tristan only worked out enough to keep Baz from overly worrying about him.…

But in the moment, hearing how much Tristan weighed, Baz hadn’t known what knocked the wind out of him more: the fact that Tristan’s weight had climbed so close to three-hundred pounds, allegedly; the brazen audacity in his grin as he told Baz so; or the way that Tristan briefly eased off rubbing up against him, only to double back and slam Baz into the wall again, his full, fat belly practically enveloping Baz’s trim, toned midriff.

“Ugh,” Tristan had groaned, writhing against Baz and letting his rolls wobble like a tease, “remember how skinny I used to be, Bakery Boy?” That old nickname had earned a blush and an uneasy noise from Baz, which had in turn made Tristan laugh delightedly. “Aww, come on, don’t be so shy, okay? I know the bakery’s out of business, and you’re a salads and grilled chicken boy now—” As if his meaning had really needed clarification, Tristan had poked at Baz’s jawline, then at his cheek. “—but salads and grilled chicken aren’t as cute as bakeries, and anyway?”

He’d shifted against Baz, and made his flab bounce in the process. “I miss your jelly-belly and your chub-rolls, even if you don’t.”

[zivzap]

40-Love

⁅ Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! This story was commissioned by the wonderful pickleherring. He writes too, so give his stuff a look. (〃￣︶￣) ⁆

﴾Google Doc Link with additional tags﴿

Part One

“Here we are!”

Justine awoke with a start at her mother’s announcement, half-lidded eyes rolling around to the blurry figure in the driver’s seat.

“Hwuh?” She mumbled, rubbing the imprint that the seat belt had left on her cheek as she slept against it.

“Here you go, sleeping cutie…” Her mom laughed, pulling Justine's glasses down from the sunglasses holder, "I took your glasses off when you fell asleep so they wouldn’t smush into your face."

She slipped them onto her half-conscious face. With a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, Justine’s mom hopped out of the car and began to rifle through the trunk. By the time Justine finally got out of the car, she had already closed it and approached her sleepy daughter with gym bags in either hand.

“Here’s yoouuuurs⁓♪” With a sing-song voice and a big smile, she put the bag in Justine's hands with characteristic insistence, “Now let’s get inside and get changed. We don’t want to be laaaaa-aaaaate⁓♪”

Justine yawned and reached down to scratch herself as her body walked behind her mother on auto-pilot. The slap of her flip-flops soon quieted as they transitioned from the sidewalk to the soft carpet. The cool whoosh of an air-conditioned room signaled their entrance, which beckoned Justine’s eyelids to open.

“Ahem.”

A rather insistent voice drew Justine’s attention to a rail-thin woman in her mid-50s. She looked down the end of her long nose, her pale and powdered cheeks stretching in an opaquely insincere smile.

“Oh… c-can I h—uh… I mean… what can I d—” Justine

“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, ma’am,” the smiling woman interrupted.

“Wh—” Justine’s eyes shot open as she suddenly felt very awake. As she clutched her bag in front of her chest, the young woman glanced around the room. She found nothing but the stares of the many older patrons, their breakfast interrupted by the intrusion.

“I’m afraid that your… attire…” Her beady eyes rolled down her long nose and back, scanning Justine condescendingly, “…does not meet our dress code.”

Justine looked down over her bag in horror as she realized that she was still in her pajamas—and not cute ones either. No, she was wearing a T-shirt that was a couple of sizes too big, a pair of very loose boxer shorts, and flip-flops. The half-chub that remained of her morning wood made a rather obscene arch down one side towards her leg, millimeters from breaching containment.

Nervous sweat began to bead on her forehead as she realized how well-dressed the average person in this room was, as well as the stunningly expensive-looking décor that surrounded her. With a mouth that felt like it was stuffed with peanut butter, she struggled to explain herself. Nervousness progressed into full-on panic as she realized that she had no idea what she was doing here—or even where ‘here’ was.

“Excuse me, is something the matter?”

Noticing that Justine had been stopped, her mother turned back with a sense of urgency that made her curls bounce as she approached. She stood beside her daughter, a bag over one arm and two brand-new tennis rackets tucked under the other.

“Oh, this young lady wandered in, and I was—”

“Wandered in? Good god, some things never change.”

“Is there a problem here?” A suited man entered the conversation from behind them, and he positioned himself alongside the doorwoman.

“Indeed there is. This woman has been very rude to my daughter—”

“This club is for members only, ma’am.”

With that, her mother’s expression darkened to the new man as it had with the long-nosed woman.

“Mom… People are staring…” Justine whispered, shrinking with embarrassment.

“You should be used to it, dear. Eyes tend to follow the glow,” Minerva pulled out her phone, angrily tapped the screen a few times—taking care to turn up her fingernails to avoid the screen—and put it to her ear. She glanced at either of the two employees in turn, “That’ll be all from the both of you, thanks.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to lea—”

“Annie? It's Minnie. Hi, I’m sorry to call you like this, but it seems we’ve arrived a little early, and—… Yes. Exactly. This under-stuffed screech owl and her frat boy fling are being very rude to me and Justine—… Thank you, honey. Hugs and kisses. See you in a few.”

Minerva tapped the end call button with a bit of flourish to her motion, spreading her fingers out to show off her immaculately-styled nails again. She turned from the two as if they had vanished from her sight and proceeded inside, grabbing Justine's arm to pull her along. They started to pursue in protest, but both of them ground to a halt as their pockets started vibrating.

“Mom… I could’ve just gotten changed in the car if you’d—”

“They have a changing room for a reason, dear. So we’ll change there.”

“But the dress code—” Justine began to protest.

“Trust me, dear—if you were a white girl with straight hair, they wouldn’t have given a shit about their dress code.”

"But I'm barely dres—"

"Then they should be grateful they don't have to pay for the privilege. Ah! Here we are!"

Minerva led Justine through the entryway, the fancy dining room, the bar area, and the locker rooms before they finally arrived at a private changing room with a small reserved sign on it.

“Mom… we were going to go get the rest of my stuff. From the dorm…?” Justine grumbled—shaken, but now thoroughly awake.

“Oh of course we are, College Queen! Annie called while you were sleeping—she's my girl from way back in my college days—and she invited us to play a game or two with her and her daughter Elaine. I haven't seen Annie in so long, so I just couldn't refuse!" She held her phone up next to the knob, causing the red LED above it to turn green.

"Mom, I didn't pack any clothes to play tennis. I don't have anything but flip-flops and hiking boots."

"Oh, I know dear. That's why I stopped off and bought us some equipment for the occasion! What did you think was in that bag you're carrying? Silly…"

“Great…” Justine mumbled, her mood still thoroughly soured from the rude awakening at the entryway.

“What was that, honey?”

“Oh… it was nothing. Sorry. I’m just really tired, is all…”

“I’ll grab you a coffee while you’re getting changed, then,” Minerva held the door open and waved her daughter inside.

Justine hesitated for a moment but proceeded inside regardless. She didn't want anything to do with this, but given all the equipment her mother had bought, she would feel pretty bad turning her down. Then again, knowing her mother, there was a pretty good chance that was part of the plan.

"Mom… I don't really want to play…" Justine rubbed the back of her neck in the uncomfortable silence, "I mean, I haven't practiced in a long time. So I bet I'm gonna be super rusty. I don't want to drag you down."

"Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sweetie; this is just for fun! Just a friendly game between old friends and their beautiful, talented daughters," She patted Justine on the shoulder with a broad smile, "The stakes couldn't be lower, dear!"

Somehow Justine still had doubts. Her mother was the woman that shame forgot. Her face was never without a veneer of infectious confidence. She was a star athlete, a part-time model, one of the most accomplished trial attorneys on the east coast, and an incredibly shrewd investor besides.

Justine, on the other hand? She often joked that she must’ve been adopted. She inherited none of her mother’s natural charisma or confidence, and certainly none of her outgoing personality. Justine was a bookish, awkward, kissless virgin at the age of 22.

That’s not to say she lacked friends—she had plenty of those that she cared for very deeply. But the moment of complete exposure and vulnerability that came with expressing romantic or sexual feelings towards another person seemed like an insurmountable anxiety.

One thing she did inherit from her mother was her natural talent on the tennis court. However, love of the sport was not something they shared—much to her mother's chagrin, Minerva had been trying to convince her daughter to pick up the racket again ever since she left for college to no avail.

Then again, Minerva had done her more favors than she could count during her college years. As she had a few minutes prior, Justine’s mother always had her daughter’s back, and Justine doubted that she’d ever have made it through the roughest parts of exam season without her. So she tried not to make too big of a stink about the mild subterfuge used to get her here. Just a couple of games? She could do that. Besides, there was no arguing with her mother anyway, as many an unprepared prosecutor had figured out the hard way.

Minerva closed the door behind them as Justine sat the bag on the bench facing a row of lockers and started to undress.

“Oh, that reminds me—when was the last time you masturbated, dear?”

Justine was caught so off guard by the question that she nearly fell over while stepping out of her shorts.

"Mom!" Justine hissed, instinctively looking around the empty room to make sure no one heard.

“You have a condition, sweetie," Minerva explained with a patience seen only by her daughter, "Asakura Syndrome isn’t a joke, and I know we’ve been stuck in the car for the past couple of days. Maybe you should consider… loosening your strings… before we hit the court?”

Asakura Syndrome, for the unaware, is a genetic disorder that affects girls with dicks. In short, the condition is caused by a chronic hormonal imbalance, which can itself have a wide range of potential causes. Common symptoms include hyperspermia, hypergonadism, and aggressive sexual urges—each of which will steadily increase in severity without treatment. In extreme cases, this can result in a compulsive pursuit of sexual release. Thankfully, patients with this condition usually respond well to simple medication and manual stimulation therapy, so such cases are extremely rare.

“I’ll be fine,” Justine assured her, “I can handle it.”

“I know you can, Justine. You can do anything. Whether or not you will is more my concern,” Minerva crossed her arms, eyebrow raised.

"My new meds keep it under control, Mom. So just let me do my own thing, please?” Justine scoffed.

"You do your own thing ten to fifteen times a day, Justine. I'm just asking you to do it once before we head out to the court. You know you embarrass easily, so…"

“Mom, I’m not jacking off in a country club locker room. E—… end of discussion!” Justine’s voice got a little shaky at the end, but she stuck to it nonetheless.

“Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with having a strong sex drive—especially for someone with your condition,” Minerva glanced down only briefly, and Justine’s gaze followed hers.

Justine’s face turned pink as she discovered the very visible tent in her pajama pants. She averted her eyes with an indignant scoff—intent on further protest but found her tongue frozen with embarrassment. Closing her legs a little tighter, she pulled the bag onto her lap to hide it from view.

“Now I’m going to go get us some coffee,” Minerva announced, walking toward the door, “I’ll be gone for twenty minutes.”

Minerva stressed the last couple of words, giving her daughter a pointed stare. The implication was clear.

“Okay…” Justine grumbled.

“I’ll knock when I come back, okay?” Minerva told her, already halfway out the door.

“Fine.”

“Okay!” Her mother smiled and closed the door behind her.

Justine rolled her eyes with a sigh as she turned the shower on and began to disrobe, neatly folding her PJs into a pile next to the bag. She briefly considered taking her mother’s advice. On any other day, she probably would have. But the incident at the door along with her mother’s embarrassing (though not necessarily untrue) remarks had left her feeling somewhat obstinate.

She huffed with the kind of frustration that comes with being told what you don’t want to hear. Still stewing, she ransacked her bag for her pills and bitterly struggled with the cap. After a few frustrated grunts, both the cap and the bottle popped free of her grasp. Justine could do naught but watch in horror as a half-dozen pills shot across the room and began to dissolve on the damp shower floor.

“Fuck!” Justine cursed in a scramble to pick up at least one, but they had all been reduced to foamy splotches on the tile before she could reach them.

Hesitantly, she looked into the bottle to confirm what she already knew. She cursed again, finding it empty. Taking a deep breath, Justine tried to stay positive. The next week wouldn’t be pleasant, but she would survive. She just had to get through today. With a sigh, she stepped into the falling water and turned the knob until the water began to run out cold.

Part Two

“Mom… are you sure about this outfit?”

Justine glanced down at herself, feeling a little self-conscious. The shorts that Minerva had bought barely reached her thighs, and it had left her feeling more than a little exposed. Stuffing her ample endowment into them was quite the task, and she found herself repeatedly checking to make sure nothing had slipped. If she managed to keep it soft, she was sure she would be fine…but that was a very big if.

“You promised not to be a stick in the mud…” Minerva whispered, well out of earshot of the approaching duo. Giving her daughter no time to respond, she waved her old friend over excitedly, “Annie! Over here!”

Justine waved nervously, trying to stifle her embarrassment as her mother hopped up and down like a child in the middle of the court. Her friend for her part waved warmly. Unable to contain her excitement, Minerva ran to meet them halfway, nearly tackling them to the ground.

“Oh hello, Minnie!” Anabel gasped, warmly returning the embrace as soon as she had regained her footing, “It’s been far too long, dear.”

“Couldn’t agree more, girl… couldn’t agree more,” Minerva laughed.

After a short exchange outside Justine’s range of hearing, she threw an arm around each of their shoulders and walked them back toward the court.

“Justine, this is my best friend from college: Anabel Descoteaux…”

Anabel wasn’t entirely a stranger; She was a constant presence in Minerva’s stories and photo albums, and they maintained almost daily contact via Facebook and text messages. This was the first time that Justine had met her in person, however. She was an active woman in her mid-40s, much like Minerva. However, where Justine’s mother was energetic and approachable, Anabel had the presence of royalty. Justine found herself feeling very small and under-dressed in her presence.

Justine extended her hand, only to be pulled into a tight hug instead. The girl’s mind briefly left her body as a multitude of sensations hit at once: the softness of her skin, the warmth of her embrace, the sweet smell of her perfume, and the caress of her womanly curves. Justine absentmindedly wrapped her arms around Ms. Descoteaux’s back as Anne nuzzled her cheek into her shoulder.

“Sorry, dear,” Anabel chuckled as they parted, “I hope your mother warned you. I’m very much a hugger.”

Her eyes darted downward for just a split second, and then rose back to meet Justine’s. Her expression was unchanged, but Justine instinctively checked herself to make sure that she hadn’t fallen out of her shorts. Thankfully, all was well.

“Nah… no worries! I uh… I like hugs!” Justine laughed nervously.

“…And this is her daughter, Elaine!” Minerva concluded, gesturing to the hooded girl with her nose buried in her phone.

As if unsettled by the sound of her name, Elaine raised her head with a start, nearly dropping her phone in the process. She looked from Minerva to Anabel, and finally to Justine. They exchanged an awkward glance. Elaine went for a handshake. Justine went for a hug. Both laughed nervously and stalled, feeling foolish as they tried to correct their incompatible greetings. Justine went for a handshake. Elaine went for a hug.

They silently agreed to cut their losses and settled on an awkward wave in lieu of embarrassing themselves further.

“Nice to meet you,” Justine smiled as genuinely as she could manage.

“Y—yes!” Elaine nodded, before adding, “Me uh… me too…”

Justine turned and took her place down the court. She took a few practice swings in hopes that her body would remember the proper motions. Anabel bounced the ball a few times as she prepared to serve from the opposite side of the net.

“Best of three, dear?” Anabel called across the court to Minerva.

“Sounds good!” She responded with a sweet smile, “You just pick how many games you want to lose, Annie!”

The pleasantries quickly faded as Anabel readied up her serve. She cast a final, confident glance at Justine and tossed the ball skyward.

“Haaaaa—UNGH!” With an unrestrained grunt of exertion, she fired the serve from her racket, clearing the net with practiced form. A smile crossed her lips…

The return was a sharp contrast. Justine hit the ball back with a criminally precise slice, giving the ball barely any bounce as it unceremoniously rapped twice against the clay court before Anabel could even begin to approach it. Wide-eyed, her gaze darted to Justine, then to Minerva, and then back.

Minerva burst into laughter.

“I guess it’s our serve now—right, Annie?” She yelled to her dumbfounded friend.

Anabel grumbled, retrieved the ball that now rolled lazily across the court, and tossed it back to Justine with a scalding glare. Justine laughed nervously under her breath and attempted to avoid eye contact with her gloating mother.

“The stakes couldn’t be lower,” she said.

“Just for fun,” she said.

Justine did not want any part of her mother’s ravenous competitive appetite, but she knew that if she intentionally threw the game, the ride home would be torturous. And Minerva would know—she always knew. Justine took a deep breath and tossed the ball up to serve.

Anabel tensed as Justine’s backswing reached its full extension, and she darted forward as soon as the lanky girl’s racket made contact, intending to intercept the low bounce as she had failed to do seconds earlier.

Justine tilted her racket at the last second, sending a moonball bouncing fast and high over Anabel’s head—far beyond her reach.

The older woman jumped with a growl of equal parts exertion and frustration. She swung her racket high overhead, hitting naught but air as the ball sailed past and lodged itself in the chain link fence. Clearly rattled but unbroken, Anabel straightened her visor and took her place back on the court; a determined look fixed on her face.

“Love-15!” Minerva cackled.

“M—Mom?” Elaine piped up, finally getting her mother’s attention.

“What is it, Elaine?” Anabel responded, trying her best to hide her embarrassment.

“W—…would you like me… to um—… Should I return the serve?” Elaine asked somewhat apprehensively—clearly concerned about further bruising her mother’s ego, “She’s… pretty good…”

“Thank you, dear, but no,” Anabel flashed Elaine a smile, “I simply underestimated little Justine, that’s all. My mistake. Knowing her mother, I should’ve been more prepared…”

“You’re doing great, sweetie!” Minerva waved to her daughter from across their side of the court, “She’s got them old lady reactions though, so don’t go too hard on her!”

“D—don’t be like that, Mom…” Justine smiled nervously, refusing to make eye contact with Minerva, “It’s just like… a parlor trick. Everyone falls for it once…”

Elaine’s expression mirrored Justine’s. Though Anabel wore a warm smile, the look in her eyes was downright wrathful, and that made both daughters very nervous. Their mothers were clearly taking this far more seriously than they were. What’s more, Minerva’s antagonizing remarks were clearly finding purchase, adding extra powder to this already overfilled keg.

“Justine, dear?” Anabel called across the court.

“Y-Yes, Ms. Descoteaux?” Justine called back.

“Doctor,” Anabel corrected.

“D-Doctor Descoteaux, my bad…” Justine apologized, “Wh—… I mean… what did you—”

“I have a suspicion, dear. That you’re planning to ‘accidentally’ give me a sub-par serve. To take it easy on me, as it were…” Anabel loosened her white-knuckled grip on her racket, exhaling softly to re-center herself. The look on her face hadn’t lost an ounce of its original intensity, however, “That would frustrate me. Quite a bit. You understand, dear?”

Justine swallowed hard and nodded. They used different words, and their outward personalities couldn’t be further from each other… but suddenly Justine completely understood why Anabel and her mother had been so close for so long. Because the look on Anabel’s face was very familiar. It told Justine that she would accept no handicap.

“You heard her! She asked for it, J!” Minerva cheered, “Serve this old bat up a few more aces. The sooner we’re done using her tennis balls, the sooner she can put them on her walker where they belong.”

“Still ever the joker, Minnie…” Anabel laughed with a shake of her head and looked to Justine, “Come now, girl. We haven’t all day.”

* • •

Anabel dived for the return, merely grazing the ball with her racket. The fuzzy little ball flew up and bounced off of the empty umpire’s chair, landing squarely back in their court. Set point—McVie.

After she failed to return Justine’s initial serves, the set had more or less devolved into an awkwardly paced singles match. Anabel wished to prove that she could consistently return Justine’s surgically precise serves, and as such had given Elaine a rather wilting look every time she had tried to assist.

To her credit, Anabel had managed to return a fair few… but she simply didn’t have the speed to both react and put herself in a position to return much of the time. The individual games were never blowouts, but before long, the McVies had captured set point before the Descoteauxs had managed to capture even a single game.

Justine wanted to be swallowed up by the Earth. The tension on the court could’ve been cut with a knife. That probably had something to do with the fact that her mother hadn’t stopped her snide jabs for even a second, and continued cackling at her exhausted rival’s unsuccessful effort.

Anabel picked herself up off of the court. She rolled over onto her backside and leaned back on her arms, gazing up at the clouds while she tried to catch her breath. Sweat poured down her neck and ample chest as it rose and fell, her white tank top already soaked and sticking to her body. She pulled off her visor and fanned herself with it in an attempt to cool down.

Justine could feel it happening. The crackling tingle in her tummy happily sizzled like a lit fuse as it slowly traveled south, making its way to her chemically-restrained testes. Her medicine was wearing off… and now she had second thoughts regarding what she’d like to be swallowed up by.

“It’s my turn to serve now, isn’t it?”

Elaine called across the net for the first time, which took everyone by surprise. Her mother nodded from the ground. Elaine held her hand out for a ball—jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed.

Justine jumped a little as Elaine’s icy stare turned to her, as she scrambled to fish a fresh tennis ball out of the canister. After she dropped it a few times, further embarrassing herself, Justine finally managed to pass it across the net.

“Thank you,” Elaine responded with a robotic, warmth-less pleasantry.

Justine’s shoulders fell. This was the reason she didn’t play anymore. She didn’t care if she won or lost. It was a game to her. It always had been. She didn’t even practice beyond the amount that she was forced to tolerate for her mother’s sake.

And that was fine… until she played against someone who it wasn’t just a game for. Someone who practiced constantly and put their heart and soul into it. For someone like that, losing to her was just a never-ending cycle of confusion and frustration… and Justine couldn’t help but acknowledge that it felt more than a little unfair, in a cosmic sense.

In short, playing didn’t make Justine happy… and it made a lot of others very unhappy. So she quit.

Elaine set her racket and the new ball down on the ground and grabbed the hem of her baggy shirt with both hands. Justine’s eyes were sucked to her midsection like a magnet as each tiny motion of her body made her abdominals ripple through her sun-tanned skin. Her lower body pulled a similar trick as she bent over to kick off her shorts, leaving her only in her leggings and a bright-orange sports bra.

The tingling had turned into a rumble, and Justine pinched her legs together in anticipation of the imminent failure of her tuck work. She could feel her heart beating faster by the second. Her medicine was fighting a losing battle. She could already feel her panties stretching uncomfortably.

Elaine picked up her equipment and shook her hair out of her face, sending a pleasant shiver down Justine’s spine. Though she’d never been particularly religious, she found herself praying that Elaine wouldn’t flash her that cold stare again. Her libido was rapidly becoming more and more of a problem by the second, and there was a non-zero chance that she might cream her shorts if Elaine stared her down again.

As Elaine tossed the ball skyward to serve, Justine was snapped from her daydream by the horrible realization that she couldn’t move—not without flashing her leaky half-chub to a dozen sentient polo shirts, anyway. She tried to get her mother’s attention, but Minerva was already poised to react and return.

“NnnYAAAAAAHHrr!”

Elaine’s serve sounded like a gunshot, and the ball fired off her racket with comparable speed. Minerva moved just a little too late, and the serve bounced at the edge of her box and into the fence.

Minerva did a bit of a double take between young Elaine and the ball, eyes widened, equal parts surprised and impressed. Elaine flashed her a toothy grin, her braces shining in the bright sun.

* • •

With Anabel still catching her breath and Justine desperately fending off her libido, the match once again devolved into a mostly one-on-one affair. However, Minerva and Elaine played a much more athletic contest than their inverse pair had. While there were few aces to be found, Elaine dashed and leaped around the court with the speed of a pronghorn, and had the endurance to match.

Minerva’s rally was powerful and precise, but she, unfortunately, possessed the mortal weakness of finite stamina. Elaine seemed to share no such weakness. She was a brace-faced terminator—utterly relentless. Minerva may as well have been playing against a brick wall for all the hope she had of getting the ball past her.

The second set ended in much the same way as the first—one player exhausted, another barely breaking a sweat, and their respective doubles partners standing around awkwardly like racket-wielding trees had sprung up from the court. Set Point—Descoteaux.

Minerva paced around her box, malding at the rather decisive loss she had just suffered. Justine finally managed to catch her eye and shot her mother a pleading look.

Part Three

“Time out, Annie!”

“Hm? Don’t you even consider ending this on a tie, Minnie,” Anabel yelled, “I know where you live!”

Though Minerva couldn’t resist flashing a momentary “I told you so” smile in her daughter’s direction, she didn’t labor the point otherwise. She marched over to Justine and snatched her racket from her hand. After a brief inspection, she shook her head.

“I told you to loosen your strings for this court, Justine,” Minerva performatively scolded.

“What? No, you di—” Justine suddenly realized her meaning as she desperately kept her legs pinned together, “Oh, right! I—… I forgot…”

“Well, hurry up!” Minerva shooed her daughter away from the court, “You remember how to do it, right?”

“Yes!” Justine blurted out, already making a beeline back to the locker room, “I’ll be right back!”

…

“Fuck…” Justine cursed through her teeth, a condom wrapper held between them as she worked at freeing her cock from the uncomfortable-bordering-on-painful confines of her shorts. They didn’t even make it to the ground before her hand gripped the base of her cock and rolled the rubber over.

Justine began to stroke furiously. For a few seconds, she didn’t even open her eyes. Familiar fantasies and favorite porn scenes flashed through her mind, the salacious sights and sensations spurring her on. That’s when she felt it. A surge traveled through her body like she had put a finger in a light socket—down her chest, through her tummy, and finally came to rest in her aching balls.

Her medicine had worn off completely… and the feeling of pop rocks crackling inside her testes told her that her problem was about to get a lot bigger.

Her conscious restraint began to fade as she started to massage her lightly swelling nuts in time with her strokes, slowly making her way onto her back as she kicked off her shorts. As the warm water from the shower flowed over her, the true culprits of this overflow of lust began to invade her usual mental movies.

“You didn’t take your medicine!? Oh, god… that looks painful!” Elaine gasped in her head and revealed a duet of hypnotic handfuls from the concealment of her top, “Will this help? I mean… if you like looking…”

Another tingly explosion inside her nuts made her hips buck as the milky skin of Elaine’s untanned pussy flashed into her mind.

“H—how about this? You… do like girls, right?” The fantasy Elaine blushed, spreading her pussy as she leaned back against the wall for balance, “I spend a lot of time practicing… outdoors you know… so I’ve got some tan lines. Please don’t laugh, okay?”

Justine’s tongue fell out of her head as she nodded, enticing this fantasy Elaine to continue.

“M—maybe… I don’t know if it’ll fit, but… you can try to put it in—Ohhh gooddd~”

Justine slammed her hips up into her grip as she fantasized about slamming balls deep into Elaine’s tight hole. Elaine arched her back as she moaned, accentuating the tiny bump just below her belly button. Another surge of lust came at the sight of her cock poking a bump into Elaine’s perfectly toned stomach. She thrust into her hands, stroking like mad as her fantasy cock fucked the shy athlete in every way she could imagine—and Justine grew very creative at times such as these.

Her nuts churned a final time and began to ascend.

“I—…it’s probably safe, so—”

Even in Justine’s lascivious fantasy, Elaine didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence. Justine pushed her cock all the way in and shot it full.

Her release bloated the rubber like a latex balloon with thick, distending spurts as Justine smashed her pelvis against her fist. Only her shoulders and the tips of her toes touched the ground, her back arched in a rapturous, spasming climax. Moans echoed through the empty locker room—her restraint and shame eroded to the point of nonresistance by surging, overwhelming lust.

Justine covered her face with her off-hand, sighing heavily as she milked the last bit of runoff from her under-vein and into the dangerously bloated condom. She shook her head with an embarrassed squint in her eyes as her post-nut clarity turned her fantasy from a sizzling hot daydream into an embarrassingly indulgent bit of sleaze.

She couldn’t even get through a single set without eye-fucking her opponent until she literally couldn’t control herself. Justine covered her face with her other hand, fuming. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t a big deal; it wasn’t like she had hurt anyone.

Even still, her condition made her feel like such a sex pest. It was why she had been such a shut-in for most of her teenage and young adult life. No matter how careful she was, it would always break through. Whether she forgot a dose, or just had an unexpectedly intense flare-up, she would always find herself trapped in a conversation with someone that she could not stop undressing in her mind—no matter how hard she tried.

Truthfully, she usually handled these situations rather well, all things considered, but her anxiety wouldn’t allow her to see it that way. No, in her mind, they could see it. In her eyes. In her body language. In her suspiciously clenched thighs. Her utterly concupiscent mental pictures may as well have been projected onto her rapidly perspiring face. They could see Justine turning them into obscene caricatures of themselves to properly suit whatever fetish suited her ravenous libido’s desires.

Then she would make up an excuse to leave. When they would call or text her, she would be too mortified to answer. Eventually, they would stop calling.

Trying to recover from her spiral, Justine posed to herself that it could’ve been worse. After all, Elaine was the type of girl that could drive most woman-loving libidos insane. She wasn’t being weird about it or anything. They were the same age, Elaine was exactly her type, and they had gotten along…relatively well in their short interaction. Add in her condition, and it sort of made sense.

And it wasn’t surprising, looking at Elaine’s mother. She had to be in her mid-forties at least, but Anabel was like royalty in every sense of the word. The shift in her figure past motherhood put the extra weight in all the right places. Her breasts were comfortably the size of small melons, and she no doubt had a very expensive sports bra to keep them compressed and supported enough to play.

Justine’s eyes shot open as she felt another ticklish crackle bubbling down in the dregs of her stewing cum tanks. Desperately, she tried to think of something—anything to take her mind away… but to no avail.

“Oh? What size are they?” Anabel put a finger to the cute dimple on her cheek, grinning sweetly as she looked to the sky to consider, “Hmm… how about you guess, dear?”

Anabel’s eyes lidded as she bit her perfect, crimson lip and rolled her sticky, sweaty t-shirt up to her chest. Stopping only for a moment to hook her perfectly manicured nails under the elastic of her bra, she lifted… and lifted… and lifted…

Justine pinched the base of her cock as she felt it surge to life, desperately trying to banish the sporty MILFs glistening, voluminous underboob from her mind’s eye. She curled her toes and sat up, resisting climax with every muscle in her body as her nuts churned and boiled with a freshly-cooked load that threatened to burst forth at any second.

The elastic had finally stretched too thin to contain the tsunami of sun-kissed, milk-swollen, pillow-soft breasts that spilled through. The tumultuous flesh rippled lewdly as Anabel’s oh-so-suckable nipples and sweet pink areolas flowed from containment and took their rightful place at the lead of her gargantuan milkers.

Justine’s nuts rapidly grew another centimeter in diameter just before her scrotum clenched them so tight against her body as to cause a jolt of pain. Her grip loosened for only an instant, but that was all it took. Justine screamed, at first in shock and discomfort. The rolled band shot up her shaft as a veritable deluge of thick, viscous spooge distended the rest of the overwhelmed latex barrier, the relentless jet of her release creating a swirling, sloshing current within. Justine briefly panicked, but it was too late. A hole became a tear, one tear became many, and the poor little condom was shortly obliterated by the twisting whirlpool of opaque white jism. The fat gob it had formerly contained splashed down onto the shower floor, coating Justine’s legs and tummy. She covered her mouth to stifle herself, inadvertently slathering her face with her own cum.

Justine’s eyes rolled back as the salty, slimy facial crawled around on her tastebuds, the heavy scent overwhelming her nostrils, provoking her mind to remix the lewd fantasy.

“Look at this mess! Young lady, you clean this up right now!” Anabel scolded, Justine’s sizable cock barely peeking out from between the MILF’s titanic breasts. Rope after rope of salty milk shot into Justine’s face from her throbbing cock as Anabel directed the business end of it toward her. Anabel had held her head in place until it was clear that Justine wouldn’t dare disobey, dutifully accepting the self-facial with an open mouth and eager tongue.

Another explosion ripped forth as Justine’s eyelids began to fall, a thick rope of cum striping the shower wall just before she fell onto her back—deep, satiated breaths reaching her ears in the darkness behind her closed eyelids…

Part Four

After Justine’s shameful return to the court, the match resumed. Unsurprisingly, when the two teams played in proper form, the match suddenly grew quite competitive. Justine’s ability to control the ball with microscopic precision proved quite a unique challenge for the much more athletic Elaine, as Elaine’s relentless, untiring playstyle had provided a similar challenge for Justine. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was actually having fun.

Elaine bounced the ball in her off-hand, and looked toward Justine. Their eyes met one another, as they had many times in this game alone. But then… she smiled. Her braces flashed a little in the bright sun as she stifled a giggle, and Justine nervously waved in response.

Elaine took a breath and put her game face back on. Her sweat-glistened skin shined in the sun as she leaned back for the serve. The perfect, fluid motion in her follow-through highlighted every working muscle in the athletic machine that was her body. Even her grunt seemed to have Justine enraptured.

tok!

Justine was shaken from her daze by the sound of the ball hitting the court. She had been watching Elaine instead of the ball. By the time she began to consciously look for it…

SHPOP!

The ball slammed into Justine’s orbital bone before she could even flinch, which sent her stumbling backward for a few steps before she lost her balance.

“Oh my god!” Elaine gasped as Justine’s back hit the court. With equal parts guilt and concern, Elaine rushed over to check on her.

“Eye on the ball, dear!” Anabel cackled as she turned to Minerva, “She’s a real chip off the old block, ain’t she, Minnie?”

Justine’s face started to burn with embarrassment as she looked up at the clear blue sky, and her eye had already begun to puff up. When Elaine’s face suddenly appeared, looking down at her with concern, it became even warmer.

“Are you okay? I’m s—so sorry! I—I guess I g—got a little too into it…”

“I—I’m fine. I just—” Justine’s cheeks were on fire, “—got a little distracted… sorry.”

“I—it’s okay!” Elaine smiled warmly and offered her a hand, “It—uh… it happens to the best of us.”

Justine averted her eyes from Elaine as she caught herself staring, unaware of how long she had been doing so. She took Elaine’s hand and pulled herself up.

“You’ve got quite a serve…” Justine laughed, attempting to break the ice.

“Oh… thanks,” Elaine responded, awkwardly shuffling her feet, “I was surprised that you kept pace. I didn’t know that you played.”

“In high school, but that was mostly because of my mom.”

“You should play more! I’d be happy to help you uh… y’know… shake the rust off,” Elaine bounced with excitement.

There was an awkward silence and mutual nervous laughter as the two of them walked toward the locker rooms. Their mothers stopped their trash talk to exchange a knowing glance.

“I uh… might have to take you up on that,” Justine responded, “Maybe we could get some dinner afterward?”

“There are some great restaurants around here,” Elaine blurted out, “I could show you…”

“Oh… I have to clear out my dorm room by 7 o’clock…” Justine blushed a little at Elaine’s obvious disappointment.

“I’ve got like… sponsor meetings all this week… b—but I’m free on the weekend, maybe…” Elaine smiled as they reached their lockers—coincidentally located right next to each other.

Justine disrobed as slowly as she could manage, trying to conceal her hidden glances up and down Elaine’s increasingly exposed body.

Much like what had happened on the court, Elaine’s body seemed to go into autopilot as she stripped down without a trace of her usual hesitation and awkwardness. Justine reasoned that she must have done this countless times, so it shouldn’t have surprised her. Yet even still, Elaine’s confident disrobing had Justine somewhat fascinated. As did what lay beneath…

Elaine’s form-fitting tennis gear hadn’t left too many surprises regarding her figure, but the few that remained were more than worth the wait. Her breasts practically tumbled out of their restraints as Elaine rolled her sports bra across her moist and glistening skin. Her panties fought a similar battle, the sweaty cloth clinging to her damp body. After a bit of awkward wiggling which made her bounce in all the right places, she finally stepped out of them.

As she turned to toss her dirty clothes into her bag, though, Elaine’s eye caught Justine’s and froze.

Justine only then realized that she had been so captivated by the other girl’s body that she had been staring slack-jawed for at least the last minute or so. Her shirt and shorts lay in a heap on the floor, one shoulder slipped from her bra strap. Her face heated up even more as she realized that her weighty cock was close to half-mast, and nigh inconcealable from such close proximity.

“O—…” Justine began, with the mortifying realization of how creepy Elaine must find this.

“N—…” Elaine began, cutting Justine off with the last thing she expected to hear, “Nice…”

Before Justine could even process what happened, Elaine flashed her a smile and hurried off to the showers, leaving the confused girl with several questions and very mixed feelings.

Part Five

After stowing her clothes and grabbing her shower bag and towel, Justine proceeded to the showers. She was somewhat disappointed to find that the showers were separated into individual stalls, complete with sliding glass privacy doors. She had hoped to explain herself a little bit before the awkward moment got too far away, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

Briefly, she considered knocking on the foggy glass and asking Elaine’s permission to join her… but her stomach tied itself in knots at the mere thought. With a sigh of defeat, Justine proceeded past the first stall that Elaine currently occupied and into the next shower, closing the door behind her.

Anxiety and hope played a rather frustrating tug of war within as Justine lazily stuffed her braids beneath a shower cap, adorned with pink bubbles and bunnies. She allowed her mind to drift as the warm water washed over her body. The white noise of the falling liquid and rising steam gradually coaxed her eyes closed. A hum came from her lips as she finally started to relax.

The schoof of the sliding door and a rush of cool air on her wet skin made Justine’s eyes open with a start. Her shock became twofold upon seeing Dr. Descoteaux stepping into the spacious shower and shutting the door behind her.

“D—! Doct—!?”

“Hello, Justine. Your mother wished me to examine your eye,” Dr. Descoteaux interrupted with a firm, clinical tone, seemingly paying little mind to their mutual state of undress.

The white noise of the falling water became deafening in the silence that followed. Justine—caught so completely off guard—simply froze. Thighs pinched together to restrain her rapidly swelling femme-ber, back pressed firmly against the cold tile, and desperately trying to keep her eyes above the doctor’s neckline.

“May I see it?” She asked, though her tone was far more of an imperative than a question.

“Oh,” Justine responded, utterly devoid of the understanding that such a response usually implies, “When?”

There was a pause while the doctor’s eyes shifted slightly, the tilt of her head implying that she was giving Justine the chance to realize her rather dim-witted question and answer properly. She did not, so the doctor proceeded.

“Now, dear,” Anabel clarified, clearly unsure if Justine was simply shy or an utter moron.

“S—… uh… c—could it wait, Mrs—er… Dr. Descoteaux?” Justine babbled, still frozen in a knock-kneed stance—one hand over her crotch, and the other arm across her breasts, shielding her intimate areas from view.

“No,” Anabel responded flatly, refusing to offer further comment in the awkward pause that followed.

"C—could you hand me a towel? I’ll just dry off and cover up—”

“Justine, really! I am a medical professional with over two decades of experience. What part of your body do you believe is so unique that I haven’t seen its kind before?” Anabel huffed, putting a hand on one of her wide, child-bearing hips.

Justine found herself without an answer for the insistent doctor’s question—or at least not one that didn’t make her feel like a stubborn child. Reluctantly, she nodded.

“Good.”

Anabel produced a penlight from her bag, stowed the bag on one of the hooks on the back of the door, and hurried over to Justine. She began her examination—poking, prodding, and shining a light into the injured pupil.

“Hrm…”

“Is it okay?” Justine finally asked, “I mean, it’s only a tennis ball, right?”

“Well, unfortunately for you, Elaine is a professional. Her average serving speed is around 120 miles per hour, and the serve that hit you was markedly above that. Had it struck you near the net, a hit like this could’ve caused a detached retina or even permanent loss of vision. As it stands, you only have some mild corneal irritation and the beginnings of a deep bruise around your eye socket. You’ll have a nasty-looking black eye in a day or so, but you’ll most likely survive…”

“Most likely???” Justine exclaimed.

“It’s a joke, dear. You’ll be completely fine, I assure you,” Anabel chuckled.

Justine sighed in relief.

“Thank you, doctor. I didn’t know it could’ve been so serious…” Justine sighed in relief, “I’m sorry about being so fussy. You were just trying to help…”

“It’s quite alright, dear,” the doctor reassured her as she stowed her penlight in the hanging bag.

Justine looked at the floor, her anxiety not yet appeased by her apology.

“Is there… um… any way I could make it up to you?” Justine offered, “It’s just that you’re my mom’s best friend. And I don’t want to make a bad first impression.”

“Really, dear,” Dr. Descoteaux laughed, “It’s alright. I am a mother too, after all. I’ve dealt with my share of ‘fussy’ patients.”

“Oh, okay…” Justine looked down again.

“But if you insist…”

Justine looked back up at the doctor.

“Yes? Yes. I do insist, Doctor,” Justine beseeched with an almost comically dramatic tone.

The older woman started to laugh but quickly realized that Justine’s plea wasn’t at all in jest. She stifled her laugh, not wanting to hurt the poor girl’s feelings.

“Well, I have something of a phobia; showering alone—outside my own home, of course—leaves me quite anxious. Furthermore, I have forgotten my toiletries. Would it bother you immensely if I showered here?”

“Not at all, Mrs—I mean… Dr. Descoteaux,” Justine corrected, “There’s plenty of room… and I have soap and shampoo if you need it.”

As the doctor smiled gratefully, Justine seemed to forget her anxiety, seemingly distracted by her relief that she hadn’t offended. The doctor approached and Justine fumbled through her bag. Finally locating the shampoo, she squirted some onto her hands and passed the bottle to Anabel—probably a little faster than she needed to.

“S—sorry…” Justine shrugged, “I guess I’m just on edge today…”

“There’s no need to be so nervous, dear,” Anabel chucked as she lathered up her hair, “I don’t bite.”

“Oh,” Justine laughed, “Of course not.”

But, obviously… it wasn’t a bite she feared. Justine kicked herself once again for forgetting her pills. Every glance at Anabel’s nude form was a potential disaster, and the older woman’s curves grew more magnetic by the second as water and suds made rivers down all of her most tempting hills and valleys. Justine felt her lust begin to strain against her squeezing thighs. She redoubled her efforts to keep it in check.

“Dear?” Anabel asked.

“Yes, Ms—er… Mrs—uh…—DOCTOR… Descoteaux?”

“Please just call me Anne, dear… for both of our sakes” Dr. Descoteaux smiled warmly, eyes closed as she rinsed herself, “Are you holding that… puddle of shampoo for any particular reason, or…?”

Anabel was already rinsing the conditioner out of her hair. Justine must have spaced out. Embarrassed, she put her hand in the water and let the shampoo wash down the drain.

“Decided not to wash your hair, dear?”

“Nah… I’ll wash it at home…” Justine sighed.

“Probably for the best. It can be difficult to get all the soap out of braids like yours. Best to take your time in your own shower rather than a strange locker room.”

“Yeah…” Justine agreed.

“They are beautiful, by the way,”

“Whuh?”

“Your braids,” Anabel clarified, “Did your mother teach you?”

“Yeah… and if I’m being honest, she usually helps me. I have no coordination in a mirror at all…”

“Justine, if your mother lived within a hundred miles of here, it would put my hairdresser out of work,” Anabel sighed, “Even Elaine’s father is better with her hair than I am.”

This brought a question to Justine’s mind.

“M—… Doctor… Why didn’t you shower with Elaine? N-Not that I mind or anything! It’s just… Well, I’m not always here… obviously… so…” Justine trailed off as she caught sight of Anabel rubbing soap over herself. The young girl’s eyes seemed to have quite a struggle to tear themselves away from Anabel—her body now covered and dripping with white, foamy suds.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear,” The older woman tittered with a shake of her head.

“Hear what, Mrs—… Anne,” Justine stumbled as she second-guessed her choice of address once again.

“Cup an ear against that wall, dear,” Anabel chuckled, tilting her head toward the eastern corner of the shower, “You’ll understand.”

Confused and intrigued enough to follow the doctor’s odd directions without argument, Justine cupped her hands around an ear and placed them against the indicated surface. At first, she heard nothing. But after a moment, a droning tone began to stand out from the constant hiss of running water. The wall vibrated every second or so as if someone were kicking the other side. Only when she heard the restrained but audible gasps and moans did she put two and two together.

Once she heard it, she found it impossible to tune out. She wondered how she had ever done so before. Elaine was masturbating. Vigorously masturbating. Just mere feet on the other side of the tiled wall. Anabel must have seen the realization on her face because she giggled softly.

“I’m sure you understand why showering with her while she’s in this state would be rather… uncomfortable for the both of us,” Anabel explained.

“Yeah, I get it,”

Justine nodded understandingly, unable to look at Anabel while increasingly pornographic visions of the good doctor’s daughter danced through her head. Nor could she banish the question, “Was that because of me?” Had the mere sight of each other naked driven them both into the depths of sexual frustration? Justine suddenly regretted not having the nerve to knock on her shower stall…

“I should explain; Elaine is…—” Anabel trailed off, making circles with her hands to draw the proper words from her mind, “—She becomes quite alarmingly aroused after matches. The sweat, the physical exhaustion, the heavy breathing… they all—shall we say—produce a particular itch; An itch which is thusly scratched…”

The doctor gestured to the eastern wall once again. Justine’s legs were beginning to burn with exertion, her cock intent on making its presence known. She felt like a total degenerate. Anabel was confiding in her a potentially embarrassing secret of her daughter’s, and her cock drooled precum with every new detail, painting increasingly salacious scenes in her mind.

“I’ve been trying to play matchmaker for some time, but none can seem to keep up with the poor thing’s libido. In my desperation, I’ve even tried sending two or three at a time. She’s proved to be somewhat insatiable…”

That latest anecdote certainly didn’t help much.

“You look frightfully uncomfortable, Justine…—Oh dear me, I apologize if I’ve over-shared,” She approached with some concern as Justine’s back pressed against the tile in an attempt to take some of the weight off of her awkwardly-positioned legs currently tasked with concealing her arousal, “I hope you won’t think any less of dear Elaine.”

Justine certainly wouldn’t be thinking any less of Elaine. In fact, she might be thinking of Elaine at least once a day for the rest of her life.

“Are you sexually active, dear?”

That question popped Justine out of her lustful haze and put a flush in her cheeks. She stumbled for an answer for a moment or two but finally shook her head.

“Dear? You’re looking a little ill…” Anabel worried, “Let me look at—”

Justine’s legs wobbled as the doctor drew close, huge motherly breasts softly compressing against her own. Her resistance crumbled as Anabel’s nipples brushed over hers. Justine’s cock lept free and slapped between the older woman’s legs with a wet slap.

Justine’s heart stopped in the instant that followed. The doctor’s eyes slowly panned downward. She felt a little faint as time seemed to slow, though she could do nothing to stop the slow pan of the doctor’s eyes down to ground zero.

“Oh my… god~!” Anabel exclaimed in a whisper much too loud for Justine’s comfort. She turned her head away and covered her mouth, but her cheeks began to rouge as she found herself unable to keep her eyes off of it for long.

Anabel wrapped her fingers around Justine's traitorous cock. Justine vocalized a small apology but was still far too stunned to protest—or even come to a decision about whether or not she wanted to, for that matter.

“Is this why you’ve been acting so strangely, dear?”

"Nyeahnuh…uh…” Justine vomited out, still looking a little faint.

“Aw, sweetie—did you perhaps neglect your medication?” Anabel clicked her tongue, “tsk tsk tsk.”

“Iforgotit’msosorry—” Justine’s mind raced as she desperately tried to explain.

“Would you like my assistance?”

“…e—excuse me?” Justine’s thoughts all seemed to stop dead at the unexpected question. Anabel couldn’t mean what Justine thought she meant… could she? Surely, Justine reasoned, she must have misunderstood.

“Elaine. What do you think of her, dear?” Anabel prodded.

Justine struggled for words as several less-than-decent answers to the doctor’s question jumped to the front of her mind.

“I like her,” Justine plumped out, “Um… we had a nice convers—”

“Did you get a look at her body?” Anabel pressed on.

“P—Pardon?” Justine’s face blanked.

“When you were changing, dear. Did you look at her naked body?”

The blank look on Justine’s face took on a hint of panic.

“W—Well, I’m sure I saw a little, but I promise I wasn’t staring or anythin—“

Anabel silenced her with a finger to her lips.

“Do you find her attractive?”

Justine nodded with a flush in her cheeks.

“I’ll be frank, dear—This particular 'frustration' of hers has begun to affect her athletic performance. I was hoping that you might be willing to help… soothe her… assuming you’re up to the task,”

“Oh,” Justine monotoned once more, her body language showing only confusion and mild panic.

“Dear, are you quite alright?”

“W—I mean—… Yea—Just—”

“Justine, if you’d like me to leave—”

“No!” Justine blurted out, far more imperatively than she had intended to.

As powerful as her anxiety regarding the situation was, her desire was far stronger. The dull ache of unsatisfied lust radiated from the lowest depths of her overburdened nuts to the pit of her stomach. As increasingly salacious visions played through her mind, the objections of her anxiety were soon completely unhearable—buried beneath the symphony of moaning MILFs that echoed through her mind.

“In which case… I believe you and my Elaine might just be a rather fortuitous solution to each other’s problems. Now would be the perfect opportunity to test that, as well as provide you some relief.”

Justine made several sounds—unfortunately, none of them words—as her brain began to melt down. Anabel put a finger to the younger girl’s lips.

“I’m going to make you ejaculate, Justine,” she stated matter-of-factly, “Is that okay with you?”

Justine hesitated for a split second, but slowly began to nod. Anabel smiled as she snuggled up closer, pressing her full, pillowy lips to Justine’s. Her hands danced their way down the lithe girl’s body. Justine stood stiff as a board with her back pressed against the wall, completely lost for what to do with herself. After a second or two, Anabel pulled back and looked at her.

“Dear, is everything alright?”

“Yes!” Justine whispered back.

Anabel raised an eyebrow, obviously less than convinced.

“Sorry… I—I’m just a little nervous…”

“It’s quite alright, Justine,” Anabel reassured, “You just let me know if I make you uncomfortable, alright?”

Justine nodded, eager for the doctor to continue. Anabel resumed her deep kiss, playfully prodding Justine’s tongue with her own as her hands reached Justine’s bouncing cock once more. Upon wrapping her hand around it, her eyes popped open. She stepped back, holding the impressive shaft in her hands as she looked down to examine it.

“Oh my…” Anabel gasped, slightly in awe as she sank to her knees, “Why, look at the size of it…”

“I—it’s not that big…” Justine muttered.

“Dear, I know my hands are rather petite, but…” Anabel gripped it with both hands to illustrate her point, “…I’d need about four of them to cover all this. Where I come from, we consider that quite large…”

Justine didn’t have a response to that, so she couldn’t manage to look at Anabel. The doctor giggled at Justine’s shyness.

“Have you measured?”

“Huh?” Justine asked reflexively, “N—No.”

Anabel directed a disbelieving smirk up toward Justine. Justine looked away.

“It’s only like… 8 inches…” she said quietly.

“8 inches around, maybe…” Anabel chuckled.

Justine hid her face behind a hand to hide the flush in her cheeks and the guilty look in her eyes.

“Your mother told me it was large, dear… but I never expected such an obscene… monstrous thing…”

“My… m—mom told y—you?” Justine stuttered, utterly mortified.

“…And your father… dear lord, she was nowhere near this large. My husband was bigger than her, but you…”

“Wait… how do—”

“That’s not to say she was unskilled, mind you—Kris knew her way around the bedroom, to be sure… and she curled my toes at every opportunity given—but this…” Anabel’s hands continued to explore her cock, “…This is a masterpiece…”

Justine cried out in pleasure as the creamy-skinned MILF pinched her shaft just around the base with her left hand and gave it a deep, rough stroke up and down with her right.

“Mrs—Doct—Anne…!” Justine began, trying to explain her current predicament.

“Do you want me to suck your cock, dear?”

Justine froze as she felt the sporty MILF’s words echo in her mind. The protests of her rational mind had long been silenced. Her head began to slowly rock back and forth in a slow, silent nod.

“Mmm… good girl. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. My pace might be a trite slow. I haven’t handled one this size since undergrad…”

Justine vocalized in an attempt to assure the vixen that her efforts would be appreciated regardless of their speed, but what came out was mumbling gibberish and another slow nod.

Anabel wore an infectious smile as she guided Justine’s cock through her parted lips. Humming softly in delight, she repeatedly engulfed the glans with her soft lips, planting a kiss at the tip with each retreat.

Justine’s mouth fell agape. Her fingers grasped and slipped across the wet tile, trying in vain to find something to grab onto. With weak knees, she braced herself against the wall, breath catching with every note of Anabel’s delightful melody.

Anabel grasped Justine’s shaft around the base with both hands. With a devilish grin, she sucked hard on the virgin glans. Her cheeks sunk inward until the convex dimples grew deep enough to touch Justine’s swollen cockhead. Then she began her retreat.

Justine slapped both hands over her mouth as Anabel’s velvety soft mouth vacuum sealed around her throbbing prick. She weakly protested the cruel overstimulation, shaking her head while her feet had begun to slip out from under her. Her muscles clenched and spasmed, dousing Anabel’s throat in a liberal coating of sticky precum. Just when she thought she might explode…

Pop!

“Oh godddd…” Justine moaned through her clenched fingers, half in relief and half in disappointment.

“I’m sorry, dear—you’re just too big!” Anabel released Justine’s shaft and sat back on her knees, observing the twitching mass and the heavy, throbbing burden stored in the tanks below with predatory rapture.

“P—please don’t stop…” Justine whined pathetically.

“Okay… okay… I’ll stop teasing you…” Anabel chuckled playfully, “Hand me the soap, dear.”

Anabel gave the glans a rather wet kiss and smothered the shaft in between her more than generous breasts. Justine gasped in surprise as her hips needily lurched forward, thrusting into the soft, pillowy cleft of the doctor’s bosom. With a liberal coating of soap, the sudsy, slippery cleavage around her cock quickly drew her back to the rapturous peak of climax.

“Enjoying yourself, dea—”

Anabel didn’t get to finish her question before a gooey jet painted a white stripe across her face. Justine twitched and trembled silently against the wall, both hands clasped tightly over her mouth as her orgasm overpowered her.

It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She had always understood that sex would feel better than going solo, but to experience it was something else entirely. Powerful urges from deep within her core propelled her viscid lust down her bulging under-vein and out the tip of her rock-hard cock—the creamy ropes either splattering across Anabel’s encouraging smile or gurgling loudly as they shot between the smothering cleft of her tits.

“Oh… g—god…” Justine finally gasped as her orgasm finally tapered off.

“Oh, dear! What a mess!” Anabel giggled, milking the last from Justine’s softening cock.

Anabel stood up and began to wash herself in the shower stream. Looking down at Justine’s slumping form, she clicked her tongue.

“You’ve certainly got the equipment and the gusto, sweetie…” She shook her head and closed her eyes to rinse the shampoo from her hair, “…but you’ll have to work on that stamina if you hope to keep up with Elaine.”

“Can I go again?”

Anabel jumped a little, surprised to feel Justine’s body pressed against her back. She glanced down between her thighs as Justine rubbed her shaft between them.

“Oh… y—…you’re already hard…? Again…?” Anabel stumbled, quite surprised.

Justine nodded, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh of Anabel’s breasts, freshly rinsed of her generous release.

"Justine…?" Anabel prodded cautiously, "Ready for another round already?"

"Y—yeah… sorry, Doct—I mean uh…—Anne," Justine corrected, slightly short of breath, "I'm a little… y'know…it's been a while—well no… I guess I kinda… took care of it… earlier… but—"

Justine trailed off, her speech somewhat slurred beneath her increasingly ragged breathing. Her hips thrust slowly back and forth, rubbing her rigid meat between Anabel's creamy thighs.

"I see… not your first time today?"

"N—no, ma'am…" Justine confessed, "S—sorry…"

"No need to apologize, sweetie," Anabel placed a hand on Justine's cheek and a quick kiss on the other, "It's impressive to have so much left. You practically gave me a second shower. I can't imagine what you left in the shower this morning…"

Justine smiled at the attention and affirmation.

"What set you off, hmmmm~?"

Justine stammered for a moment.

"Don't be shy, dear…"

"Y—you and Elaine…" Justine bashfully admitted, "When my mom told me to tighten my strings… I was… yeah…"

Anabel was briefly amused but soon came to a realization.

"You… dear, that was less than an hour ago…"

"Mm—hmm…" Justine grunted, trying and failing to be patient, and continued humping Anabel's thighs.

"And… you came once before…?"

"T—twice…" Justine clarified, "I forgot… um… my pills. Well, I dropped them… s—so…"

“Oh my… quite the marathoner, aren’t you?” Anabel trailed off in realization, muttering to herself, "Just like her father…"

“S—sorry? Did you say som—” Justine began.

“Oh, it’s nothing, my dear,” Anabel giggled.

"C—can I put it in now, Dr. Descoteaux?" Justine badgered, her thrusts now rapid enough that their wet skin lightly clapped on contact with one another, "I—I'll do better this time! Promise!"

"A—alright, dear. Just take it sl—" Anabel trailed off into a breathless moan as Justine pushed inside without hesitation, "Oooh… oh my god…"

"A—are you okay?" Justine leaned forward to peek over Anabel's shoulder—her expression both concerned and apologetic. She worried that she had hurt the doctor in her eagerness, and felt more than a little embarrassed at herself.

"Fffff—… fine.," Anabel responded, taking a few deep breaths, "You're just a bit… larger than I realized…"

"D—do you want me to stop, Doct—I mean…"

"No, dear…" Anabel interjected, "Just… keep still for a moment? While I get used to you…"

Justine nodded, cautiously wrapping her arms around Anabel. A soft hum of contentment escaped her lips, and she nuzzled her cheek into Justine's, which was still perched gently on her shoulder. Emboldened, Justine began to explore her partner's body with sweeping, gentle caresses.

"Hmhnh…" Anabel mumbled, biting her lips together.

Just as it was on the tennis court, Justine's precision was of the sort that is engineered rather than performed. Her fingers steadily worked Anabel's clit through the increasingly slick folds of her hood, prodding and caressing in small circles in time with her first few cautious thrusts.

“O—Oh… oh fu—… d—dear—” It was Anabel’s turn to struggle for words. Justine’s pace quickened steadily with every bit of encouragement that Anabel’s moans provided. Justine sank deeper and deeper into her slavering depths and planted soft kisses on her neck and shoulders as she slid an exploratory finger or two across her partner’s swollen little bud. Before long, the doctor’s generous breasts were pressed firmly to the tile, her hands flat beside them to brace herself on the wall as Justine pounded her equally generous backside.

“I’m… I’m close, Annie…” Justine panted into Anabel’s ear.

Justine’s words pulled Anabel’s mind back to earth just in time for her orgasm to begin. As it arced through her body like a flowing current, she managed to utter only a single word.

“Inside…”

Justine’s eyes widened briefly as her climax arrived ahead of schedule, the cum-trembling MILF’s breathless command setting a torch on her already simmering lust. She thrust hard into Anabel, which drew a final wet clap from her bouncing booty, and pressed her face against the cool tile alongside her hands and breasts. Anabel’s wetness squirted out as Justine’s load poured in, the both of them shuddering and twitching with climax.

Moans bordering on screams echoed in the small shower stall. Justine thrust deeply as her cum poured into Anabel. With her mons already pressed firmly against the doctor’s ass, she continued to buck her hips—wishing every last millimeter of her cock to sink inside. Her clitoral ministrations continued, pushing Anabel to a second orgasm—the sensation of being filled so generously priming the creamy MILF to peak once more.

When Justine withdrew, a deluge of white followed her wilting erection, pouring from Anabel’s well-fucked pussy not unlike a small stream—The sight of which already had Justine’s cock pumping back to attention. When Anabel slid sensually down the wall and got down on all fours, it had already begun to throb and leak once more.

Anabel put a hand under the stream of leaking cum from her pussy, then smeared the slimy release between her spread cheeks—lubing her asshole methodically and thoroughly.

“Whu… One more test…” Anabel slurred, her breath heavy with need, “I hope you’re not spent just yet…”

Anabel got her answer in short order. Justine practically pounced onto the MILF’s milky-white ass. She dragged her cock across Anabel’s lower back, across the thong-shaped tanline, and finally into the cleft of her spread ass. With a hand braced against the wall for balance, Justine lined her leaking glans up with Anabel’s tight little starfish.

A tentative thrust made Anabel’s breath catch as Justine carefully prodded her entrance. A second one made her squirm. By the third, she kicked her feet impatiently—practically begging Justine to continue.

“I suppose turnabout is fair play, but please dear…” Anabel glanced back at Justine, face flushed as she held her lascivious pose, “…don’t tease me.”

Truthfully, Justine hadn’t intended to tease—far from it. While 90% of her brain cells were currently fixated on sinking balls deep into Anabel’s ass, the remaining 10% were somewhat concerned. Her overeagerness had already caused the doctor serious discomfort once, after all. She was merely being careful, not vindictive.

“W—wh—… oh, I wasn’t—… I was just try—” Justine’s attempts to communicate this seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Anabel promptly interrupted.

“Please fuck my ass, Justine.”

It was the sort of request that simply bypassed the brain. Before Justine had even consciously processed what Anabel had said, her hamstrings had already contracted. Her hips thrust violently. Anabel’s poor little back door squeezed with all it had but could do nothing against such an onslaught. It twitched around Justine’s wide base as her rapidly filling nuts made a wet slap against Anabel’s freshly fucked pussy.

Anabel squealed with delight as Justine took an unprompted fistful of her hair.

“I’m… I’m gonna move now…” She huffed with a heretofore unseen sternness in her voice.

“Mmmhmmm…” Anabel moaned through her bottom lip, pinched between her wide smile, “Pay special attention, dear…”

Anabel raised off the floor and whispered over her shoulder into Justine’s ear.

“This is Elaine’s favorite~”

Justine’s fingers sunk into the soft flesh of Anabel’s wide hips as she withdrew, directing their sway as their rhythm’s tempo rapidly escalated. Within a few seconds, Justine was full-on reaming the older woman’s generous backside. Anabel’s fingers slid down to her swollen clit, and she rubbed her cum-drenched jellybean in vigorous circles as Justine’s cum continued to drip down from her pussy.

Climax wasn’t far for either of them. Justine’s sack had been swollen and heavy since the start of the second game, and the problem had only gotten worse with her two opponents bouncing around the court in their form-fitting gear. Now that the fantasies dancing in her head had seemingly come true, she could never hold back for long.

The same was true of Anabel, however. The surprisingly forceful ass fucking had scratched her itch, and Justine was giving her exactly what she had craved. Her muscles began to twitch as she writhed in pleasure, unable to keep her moans quiet any longer.

“Fu—…fu—…fuck me… oh god, fuck me, Daddy!”

“CUMMING…” Justine growled with failing restraint as her aching balls flooded Anabel’s guts with spurt after spurt of hot, claggy white cum. She continued to thrust deeply as Anabel’s pussy squirted her release, tinged with the white of Justine’s previous deposit.

“Oh… oh my god… are you still…?” Anabel asked over her shoulder, out of breath and somewhat astonished.

“Mhm…” Justine grunted with obvious heat in her cheeks, her self-consciousness returning with every ounce of jism she released, “S—sorry…”

“Oh god… Don’t apologize, dear. It’s just—URP!” Anabel covered her mouth in embarrassment as she eyed her slightly bloated midsection, “I’m getting rather… full…”

As her spurts were beginning to taper off, Justine thrust hard and deep one last time. The final rope seemed to fire twice as hard and twice as much, eliciting another little squirm from Anabel. Completely spent, Justine finally pulled her softening cock free, leaving a river of white pouring from both of Anabel’s freshly fucked holes.

“Ooooh… fuck…” Anabel sighed, chewing her bottom lip with a wide smile, “I think I quite like you…”

Epilogue

“So, did you have fun with Annie?”

“W—what?” Justine startled from her daydream and looked over to her mother, “What um—what do you mean?”

“Your little song and dance. With all the aces you served? She was soooo mad!” Minerva laughed, drumming her hands happily on the steering wheel.

“O—oh… haha yeah…” Justine sighed in relief, “I’m sure it was just an off day for her.”

“Hardly. You wore that ass out, J!” Minerva laughed, “Annie told me her legs felt like jelly before you even finished the first round.”

Justine didn’t respond and dodged the interaction by taking a long sip from her water bottle. She looked out the window, feeling heat rush to her face again.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You get your stamina from your father, you know…” Minerva talked with her hands as always, and put a hand on Justine’s shoulder, “And Annie? God, she was always a sweaty, panting mess after Kris got done with her.”

Justine’s eyes practically bulged out of her head. Her water shot out of her nose as she choked, and a fit of breathless coughing soon followed. Minerva patted her back with concern.

“Oh, sweetie. Are you alright?”

“F—fine,” Justine nodded, still coughing as her body tried to clear her airway of liquid, “D—did Anabel… um… tell you…?”

“Tell me what, sweetie?” Minerva asked, “I haven’t talked to her since she went to the shower.”

“Oh, just y’know…” Justine breathed a sigh of relief, “You asked her to check my eye. She said I got lucky, so I should be fine.”

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart,” Minerva smiled.

The radio played over the silence that followed for a few minutes. Justine had learned more about her parent’s sexual exploits that week than she ever wanted to know. Thankfully, they were almost home.

“So, did she call you Daddy?” Minerva prodded with a knowing smirk.

“M—… Mom!” Justine gasped, covering her face, “Oh my god…”

“She did! I knew it! Bitch owes me $50!” Minerva cackled.

“Oh my god, kill me…” Justine whined, curling into a little ball of embarrassment.

“Oh, don’t be like that, honey,” Minerva laughed.

“How did you—”

“Baby, I set the whole thing up,” Minerva proudly announced, “Annie said she was going nuts ever since her husband went to Hong Kong for business. You needed to get some ass so you could stop being so weird about it. So I made sure you two had the opportunity.”

Justine refused to un-ball herself and pouted as she looked out the window.

“That was a nasty trick, Mom. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? I made myself look like an idiot…”

“Sorry, sweetie. Mother knows best,” Minerva chuckled as they pulled into the driveway and parked. “Besides, I think you’ll forgive me.”

“Hmph. And why is that?” Justine glared.

“Because I put Elaine Descoteaux’s number in your phone for you,” Minerva grinned, unhooking her seatbelt, “She asked me to give it to you before she left. Said something about a sponsorship meeting being canceled .”

“Wh—” Justine glanced down at her phone, “Uh… would it be okay if we unload my stuff… later?”

“You want to leave it in the car for now?” Minerva raised an eyebrow, “Got somewhere else to be?”

“J—just need to um… loosen my strings…”

[rotteneldritchhorror]

No chub, no club. Half chub, give it a rub. Full chub? Epstein didn’t kill himself!

[thesexaddictdiaries]

Day 9: Strip Club

It was 2011, and my love for all things the female body and sexual things seem to growing by the day.. I had accepted a job interview in Post Falls Idaho, now this was an opportune time to enjoy some extra curricular activity as I would be staying overnight by myself. I’ve always been a fan of strip clubs but never enjoyed the ones that are essentially topless only.. since I was going to Idaho and their strip club laws are fairly loosely goosey I’d find something that was popular and see what kind of trouble I could stir up, or get into either one. I had found a club called “Stateline showgirls” omg I’m pretty sure hottest girls on the west coast were here! Well prior to leaving I did some homework (I’m kinda nerdy that way) I discovered by reading some blogs that wearing soft exercise pants (still fashionable) no underwear and just looking very clean cut and smell amazing I could have an amazing time.. I walked into this place on a Thursday afternoon.. wasn’t many girls there but was told it got busy the later it got (normal) flash forward a couple hours of throwing 1’s it was roughly 5pm … I was sitting in a booth enjoying some good conversation with one of the waitresses and I saw her.. tall, blonde, absolutely amazing real tits.. and a personality to match.. I quickly made eye contact with her and struck up a conversation.. we ended up doing a few private dances where she found out very quickly that I had done my homework..I’d had a few lap dances that day but this was different… she started grinding on me and being she seemed cool she let me suck on her tits.. that made her grind more… I soon had a fairly good chub going and it was laying just right on my leg… she moaned and smiled.. at one point she said “I think I’m liking this a lot” we must of had 4 or 5 dances and she was clearly enjoying herself.. as the music continued she almost started to dry hump my cock .. (which was hot) she was not far from cumming at this point and my pants were wet with her cum (also hot) .. she moaned and grinded .. her tits bouncing in my face.. she started to cum and with her arms around my neck she arched her back and moaned so loud I thought someone had to of heard that. After the rousing lap dance sessions we had it was time for drinks with a couple of her friends .. I remember sitting on a stool between these two strippers .. one seemed to be drunk and horny.. she reached her hand across and ran it down my crotch brushing my cock… saying “mmm I bet you taste good” I winked and said only one way to find out” she smiled… obviously I was more interested in this woman I’d been with for the past few hours.. I decided to take it up a notch, after one of the dances I asked if I could take her out to dinner… she actually said yes! We had a nice dinner and picked up a bottle of wine on the way back to the hotel.. now the next part I’ll never know why it happened this way but it did, we got back to the room and I was rubbing her massaging her shoulders as we watched something on tv, it was late.. she was drunk off her ass but she asked me wanna take my picture? I was fuck ya!! I’ve always been somewhat of a closet photographer so when she handed me her camera I was like well ok let’s do this! She was a natural! Obviously a performer, then she asked me to come closer to her.. I was already very aroused but trying to keep it together because I didn’t know what she was up for .. she looked at me, slightly bit her lip and pulled me into her.. her soft hands on my face and the taste of her lips were intoxicating! My clothes quickly went every direction.. she was laying in her back as I made my way up her leg slowly with my hands.. gently kissing along the way she gently pulled my head into her pussy to have a taste.. I started to lick and suck on her clit gently and slowly, i put slid two fingers i her dripping wet pussy and immediately found the nickel sized spot that seem to be pulsating ( I knew I’d found my target) she moaned so loud and arched her back as my fingers teased her g spot .. to be continued

[muscletfloverbackup]

As if Kevin didn't have enough to deal with between being a RA, ectronical engineering major, and vice president of the AV club. Kevin also had to run around campus putting out fires all day. He had an exam to study for, people on his floor having conflicts, and 4 different clubs all had to pick some technical event today? First it was the film club having issues with their showcase, then the anime club encountering sound issues during a on the lawn screening they were doing of some show, the gaming club having internet issues in the student lounge and last but certainly worst, Gamma Tau having issues with the sound mixers and amps they borrowed from the university for some dance party. Why was something like that even allowed? Because they had a table where people could pay $1 for a hug, $2 for a kiss, or $5 for a dance with thhe Gamma boy of their choosing. All funds going to some charity of course. Kevin had to give the frat credit. For a bunch of dumb bros they sure knew how to trick the school into letting them do basically whatever they wanted by making their less than approvable activities a charity event. So here he was, when he really outta be studying, or telling the guy in 306 that no his commuter girlfriend can't stay over so often she's practically moved in, or maybe applying for internships. Instead he's on stage at a interupted frat party trying to get the computer, sound board, and amps to talk to each other. As he's messing with some wires and settings one of the frat guys with a camera comes up and snaps a pic. The flash suprising and temporarily blinding Kevin.

"What the hell bro!" Kevin shouted covering his mouth after he noticed his use of the word bro and then rubbing his eyes to get rid of the spots from the flash.

"Sorry bro but couldn't take pics of the party without gettin' the DJ too" the guy chuckled.

"I'm here to fix the equipment not be a...DJ" though as he said it it began to sound a lot more like what he was here for. Yeah. He knew how to use this equipment. Computer. Sound mixer. Yeah these dumb bros must think he's such a genious because he can use all this tech. His chest started to slim down, smoothing out. Body hair fading as his chub from sitting all the time vanished. Soft pecs pushing out as his stomach hardened into abs. Shoulders cracking and getting broader as the sun felt more intense than usual as he began to sweat, his expanding torso feeling so fuckin' constricted in his shirt. He soon took it off while his jeans turned into gray cargo pants with lots of pockets. The sun was in his eyes until the bro with the camera noticed he kept shading his eyes and quickly got him a gray hat to wear. As soon as it was slapped on he started to feel dumber. Harder to think. A sudden emptyness in his head but nah a quick glance at the equipment reminded him he was smarter than the others. His legs started to get thicker in the cargos. Growing taller as well as brown hairs started to dust them. His feet started to swell until they felt uncomfortable in his shoes. His big bro feet get so hot and uncomfortable in his tight shoes. Deciding they must be the source of his confusion, he kicked them off. Now standing bsrefoot and shirtless on the stage. All the bros, babes, and random other guests all able to see him. He soon got the equipment working and was rewarded by thumping music that only seemed to make the sudden emptiness in his head expand. His hair got sweaty and messy curling out a bit on the sides and back of the hat. His skin tanned slightly as he grabbed headphones. Soon he was dancing along to the beat. Soon pressing a button to add his own mix to the music. "D-D-DJ Kyle!" The computerized voice said as they party resumed and Kyle grinned. Happy to be away from his RA responsibilities and hanging with his bros.

[giggly-squiggily]

Masterlist (Headcanons To Dabbles)

Heyo! My Sentence Starters/Headcanons To Dabbles List was getting long, so I decided to separate the two :D

(Totally didn’t do it for a reason to use a Kurama gif what are you talking about)

Full Masterlist

Updated: 5/19/23

Black Clover

Black Bulls Tickle Royale! (Group Tickles: Black Bulls)

Blue Lock

Cuddles? (Lee!Niko, Ler!Isagi)

Crimes In Glam (Lee!Chigiri, Ler!Aryu)

Brat (Lee!Rin, Ler!Bachira)

Moody (Lee!Chigiri, Lers!Isagi, Nagi, Barou)

Not Ticklish (Chigiri x Reader)

Respect (Lee!Chigiri, Lers!Barou, Nagi)

Sacrificial Lambs (Lees!Isagi, Chigiri, Ler!Gagamaru)

Simba (Lee!Chigiri, Ler!Kunigami)

Whatcha Say? (Lee!Chigiri, Lers!Bachira, Isagi, Kunigami)

Wet Willy! (Lee!Kunigami, Ler!Bachira)

Buddy Daddies

Iity Bitty (Lee!Rei, Ler!Kazuki)

Lesson Not-Learned (Lee!Miri, Lers!Rei, Kazuki)

Bungo Stray Dogs

“Back” To Work (Lee!Dazai, Ler!Kunikida)

The Empiricists Have No Clothes (Lee!Kunikida, Ler!Reader)

Ushanka (Lee!Fyodor, Ler!Reader)

Chainsaw Man

Suckers (Lee!Yoshida, Ler!Octopus Devil)

Collar x Malice

Distraction! (Lee!Ichika, Ler!Takeru)

Experiment (Lee!Ichika, Ler!Kageyuki)

Multi-tasker (Lee!Ichika, Ler!Takeru)

Danganronpa

Do The Thing? (Lee!Maki, Ler!Kaede)

Check-In! (Lee!Taka, Lers!Mondo, Leon, Chihiro)

Cheer Up, Kiyo! (Lee!Korekiyo, Ler!Gonta)

Come here (Hajime x Platonic!Reader)

Company (Lee!Shuichi, Ler!Kokichi)

Foot Rest (Lee!Yasuhiro, Ler!Mondo)

Sweet Talk (Nagito x Reader)

Demon Slayer

Air Tickles (Lee!Akaza, Ler!Hantengu Clones)

All Ears (Lee!Douma, Ler!Akaza)

Cupid (Lee!Sanemi, Ler!Tengen)

Douma's Army (Lee!Daki, Gyutaro, Kaigaku, Ler!Gyokko)

Drummer Boy and The Pesky Spider (Lee!Kyogai, Ler!Rui)

Eyes On Me (Lee!Koku, Ler!Douma)

Five Seconds (Lee!Akaza, Ler!Douma)

Fluster (Lee!Douma, Ler!Kokushibou)

Future Sightings (Lee!Kokushibou, Ler!Douma)

Gone In The Wind (Lee!Gyomei, Ler!Sanemi)

Heat Of The Moment (Lee!Douma, Ler!Akaza)

Keen Sense Of Hearing (Lee!Tanjiro, Inosuke, Ler!Zenitsu)

Kibble (Lee!Roark, Lers!Pokemon)

Lavender Fly (Lee!Giyu, Ler!Shinobu)

Medicine (Lee!Gyomei, Ler!Shinobu)

Messed With The Wrong Demon (Lee!Douma, Ler!Koku)

Mending (Lee!Genya, Ler!Sanemi)

Ribs (Lee!Gyutaro, Ler!Rui)

Run (Lee!Rui, Ler!Douma)

Sit With Me (Lee!Gyomei, Ler!Kagaya)

Spell It For Me (Lee!Sanemi, Ler!Tengen)

Stripes (Lee!Akaza, Ler!Douma)

Taisho Era Tickle Monster (Switch!Tanjiro, Lees!Zenitsu, Nezuko)

(Tickle) Fight Me! (Lee!Inosuke, Ler!Tanjiiro)

Team Work Makes The Dream Work (Lee!Tengen, Lers!Sanemi, Giyu)

Thick Skin (Lee!Douma, Lers!Daki, Rui)

What I Like About You (Lee!Douma, Ler!Kokushibou)

Who’s Better? (Lees!Sanemi, Muichiro, Lers!Tengen, Rengoku)

Dr Stone

Flower Language (Lee!Gen, Ler!Senku)

I Smell A Storm (Lee!Tsukasa, Ler!Ryusui)

Returning Hug (Lee!Ryusui, Ler!Tsukasa)

Fire Emblem

Retainer's Contribution (Lee!Sylvain, Lers!Dimitri, Dedue)

Splitting Sides (Lee!Claude, Ler!Hilda)

Fire Force

Begone, Devil! (Lee!Shinra, Ler!Arthur)

Free! Iwatobi Swim Club

Temper Tantrum (Lee!Rin, Ler!Nitori)

Fruits Basket

Rival (Lee!Nao, Ler!Yuki)

Haikyuu!!

Bicker Buddies (Lees!Hinata, Kageyama, Ler!Asahi)

Buzzing (Lee!Yamaguchi, Ler!Tsukishima)

Challenge Time (Lee!Suga, Ler!Yamaguchi)

Don’t Panic! (Lee!Hinata, Ler!Kageyama)

Jokes On You (Lee!Tsukishima, Lers!Tanaka, Noya)

Sneak (Lee!Tsukishima, Lers!Bokuto, Kuroo, Akaashi)

Will you? (Lee!Kenma, Ler!Kuroo)

Wrestling (Lee!Hinata, Ler!Kageyama)

Heartstopper

Breakfast Awaits! (Lee!Nick, Ler!Charlie)

Blush (Switches!Charlie, Nick)

Chub (Lee!Nick, Ler!Charlie)

Cutie (Lee!Charlie, Ler!Nick)

I know Him Best! (Lee!Charlie, Lers!Tao, Nick)

Hunter x Hunter

Secret (Switches!Gon, Killua)

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Birthmark (Lee!Jotaro, Ler!Kakyoin)

Tiramisu (Lee!Giorno, Ler!Bruno)

Weekly Antics (Lee!Abbachio, Switch!Giorno, Ler!Mista)

The World (Lees!Jotaro, Okuyasu, Koichi, Ler!Jotaro)

Komi Can’t Communicate

Mood (Lee!Katai, Ler!Tadano)

My Hero Academia

Back Rub (Lee!Todoroki, Ler!Shinsou)

Brotherly Antics (Lee!Ojiro, Ler!Bakugou)

Can We Try It? (Lee!Hawks, Ler!Mirko)

Catch Me! (Lee!Midoriya, Ler!Todoroki)

Feathers (Lees!Bakugou, Midoriya, Ler!Hawks)

Feather Sensitive (Lee!Hawks, Ler!Dabi)

Fish Out Of Water (Lee!Bakugou, Ler!Kirishima)

Fucking Adorable (Lee!Torodoki, Ler!Bakugou)

Fluster (Lee!Todoroki, Ler!Deku)

Game Over (Lee!Shigaraki, Lers!Dabi, Spinner)

I Spy A Tickle Monster! (Lee!Hagakure, Ler!Ojiro)

Laugh It Off (Lee!Endeavor, Jeanist, Ler!Hawks)

Manicure! (LeeKanimari, Ler!Mina)

Muscle Groups (Switches!Bakugou, Midoriya)

Palms Up! (Switches!Bakugou, Todoroki, Midoriya)

Play With Me! (Lees!Tokoyami, Tsuyu, Shoji, Ler!Dark Shadow)

Shoulders (Lee!Bakugou, Ler!Todoroki)

Softie (Lee!Todoroki, Ler!Midoriya)

The Claw! (Lee!Midoriya, Ler!Kirishima)

Wakey, Wakey! (Lee!Todoroki, Ler!Sero)

Pokemon

My Dearest, Maxie (Lee!Maxie, Ler!Archie)

Feathery Flurry! (Trainer Reader, Talonflame)

Gem (Trainer Reader, Sableye)

Ghost Army Tickle Attack! (Lee!Raihan, Ler!Allister)

Glint (Lee!Volkner, Ler!Roark)

Lack Of Direction (Lee!Gold, Ler!Aipom)

Land Vs. Water (Switch!Maxie, Archie)

Lesson Plan (Lee!Claval, Ler!Tyme)

Mermaiding (Hardenshipping)

Nibbles (Trainer Reader, Hydreigon)

Poke The Bewear (Hardenshipping)

Stay Still (Lee!Roark, Ler!Reader)

Thunderstorms (Lee!Maxie, Ler!Archie)

Wooloo Goof! (Lee!Hop, Leon, Ler!Wooloo)

Sk8 The Infinity

Best Win Yet (Lee!Langa, Ler!Reki)

Movie Night (Lee!Kojiro, Ler!Karou)

Spy x Family

Agent Mama On The Move! (Lees!Loid, Anya, Ler!Yor)

Give It Back! (Lee!Loid, Ler!Franky)

[mollysdarkthoughts]

It's totally fine if you're not up for it but can I request the obey me brothers x plus size reader headcanons. Like maybe they're all really touchy/cuddly with her in their own different ways. Sorry if you not up for this. Hugs!

A/n: I really hope I did this well, I'm not plus sized myself because of an eating issue that I have so I couldn't bring experience to the table. However, I tried my best and if you find that it I wrote something offensive or not well please let me know! I'm open to honest and kind criticism :)

Genre: Fluff head canons (I don't know how but it turned out more suggestive as well.)

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan

Tw: Swearing because it's me. Mentions of beating up an asshole. suggestive. Mention of bodily autonomy (gender neutral). A lot of fondling and kissing.

Lucifer:

Do you think the over 6-foot tall pride demon gives two shits about your weight? Dude, he's second only to the Demon Lord himself; he's got more important things to worry about than your body type.

Honestly, he just wants you to feel confident in how you look and how you display yourself. He's the demon of pride. He expects you to be on par with his level of self-admiration.

Buys you clothes and stuff that show off skin (Not in a perverted way…Ok maybe a little, but he'd never admit it.) if you're not comfortable with that sorta thing, that's fine by him.

You are sitting on his lap. No ifs, ands or buts. You're too heavy? No, you're fucking not; he could throw you if he wanted to. You're blocking his view? Don't matter, didn't need to finish that work anyway, too busy admiring how hot you are in the new stuff he bought you.

His hands are going to be all over your waist once you're sitting on him. Rubbing up against your stomach, torso and up your back. He's just going to sit there and be mesmerized by your body. This is unironic paradise for him. If he could have his way, he would never let you leave his lap.

Loves kissing your waist while you're lying down. If you're sleeping in the same room, Lucifer's dipping down and slowly gliding his lips over your sides. Be careful with this one. He'll bite them just to watch you squirm.

Mammon:

Honestly, loves the chub. Absolutely loves it. Thinks it's cute. So he is spending every waking moment when he is not thieving, just fondling you like a kid with a brand you toy.

His absolute favourite thing to do? Shove his face in your chest. Small tits, big tits, no tits, doesn't matter. His face, your breasts, just as God intended. If he could die in between your tits, he'd be one happy corpse.

Mammon is easily embarrassed by many things; however, giving your chest affection seems to not be one of them. In a park, in a club, at the dinner table, at R.A.D, at Lord Diavolo's castle; he'd do it anywhere any time.

If you don't want him to do it, he won't, but he's going to be one sulky demon for the rest of the day until you eventually give in to his childish pouting and let him get a face full of the goods.

He bites, kisses, nibbles and sucks across your chest like no tomorrow. He's wrapping his arms around your tummy, and he's going to town on your tits. It's also his favourite place to sleep. Get's the best nights rest when he's lying on your chest, to the sound of your heartbeat and the plush skin of your rolls in his hands.

And frankly, not always a sexual thing. You've just got a gorgeous thick body; what else is Mammon supposed to do other than take a nosedive between your breasts?

Leviathan:

Also an avid admirer of the chubby. Like, what's not to love? Unlike Mammon, though, Leviathan is a bit shyer when it comes to physical affection.

Don't get me wrong, he absolutely wants to cuddle with you and give your fantastic body the love that it deserves; he just can't bring himself to actually do it.

So for the first bit of him getting used to physical affection, he's going to latch on to your arms. His small lanky arms snaked across your bigger ones while your fingers intertwine.

He mostly does this when he's not gaming and feeling really anxious. He'll latch on to you like a tic, and he won't let go until he feels better. Your presence honestly makes him feel so comfy.

The best thing ever for him is while he's gaming, he likes to hook one arm around yours and rests his head on your shoulder, cuddling into your chubby side as he plays God knows what.

If you wear cosplay in front of him, he's going to have a significant nose bleed. Expect admiration to cloud all judgement because he's following you around like a puppy dog. Does not care that the character isn't your body type. Does not care if your skin colour doesn't even look alike. Because his little nerd heart is pumping faster than ever before, and he just wants you to himself forever now.

Will touch you everywhere in the cosplay. Your stomach, your rolls, muffin tops, your arms, he is admiring every little detail of you in that cute costume because his hot chubby partner is cosplaying as his favourite character.

Satan:

Wins first prize at romantic affection. Similarly to Lucifer, has no preference about your weight or even your physical appearance. You were the one person in his life that truly understood his anger and him as a person. So fuck modern beauty standards; it's a stupid social construct anyway, so who gives a shit?

This does not mean that he doesn't find you physically attractive because he spends every other waking moment letting you know that he does.

Spending time with Satan outside means you are never leaving his side, not even once. He will have his arm wrapped around your thick plush waist, and he is stroking the skin with his thumb whilst walking around. Sitting down for a break means he's grabbing your larger hands in his own and playing with your fingers.

Does not care what anyone says about your appearance. Actually, no, Satan does care. He cares enough to send the asshole flying across the several layers of hell in one punch. But their words didn't matter that much to him, only the fact that they had the nerve to insult you in his vicinity.

Now in private, affection is maxed out to a hundred. He lays you down, sets the mood, and caresses you gently from head to toe. He crawls on top of you and traces his fingers over your neck and shoulders. Cross your arms, along with the rolls of your stomach, etc.

He's leaving kisses that range from small sweet pecks to open mouth moaned out sloppy snog. His intentions are to make you blush, to make you feel loved and appreciated, simply because of the euphoria rush it gives him. Your joy is his reward. Your self - appreciation is his drug.

The link to the rest of the brothers is here :)

[angy-mouse]

BESTIE IM HERE AND I HAVE MCYT WHO WOULD LOVE BBW!!

First off Awesamdude! Like please he adore you and kiss you everywhere. Loves to see you be confident and will buy you sets of lingerie to see you wear. Gets full of hard thinking of you riding him.

Second Punz, like mans adores ass and tits but when his s/o has chub he just fuckinf looses it. Loves feeling all over you.

And of course sapnap mans would worship every bit of you. 

This took 3 days and its 2500 words... I have no regrets *^* fluff first, then smut under the cut

Awesamdude strikes me as the kind of guy who says he loves all kinds of women, and he actually does. He’d never let you feel self-conscious just because of how clear he makes it that he loves your body. When you hug him he probably holds your hips as you pull away, giving them a squeeze as he just looks at you with a smile because you’re just so gorgeous. He's the kind of guy who makes you feel just as beautiful in a modest dress or something that shows every roll. He'd give you that cute little smile, take your hand and twirl you so he could get the full view, and give you a kiss on the forehead and tell you, "You look stunning, darling. Are you ready to go?"

Of course, just because he thinks you look beautiful in everything doesn't mean he doesn't prefer certain clothes over others. When you’re going out I think he’d wanna put you in a dress. He just seems like the kind of guy to love seeing his girl in dresses. A flowy sundress (with pockets bc he’s a feminist) when you’re going somewhere casual, but on the special occasions when you go out to a formal restaunt he’d buy you a tight fitting dress that showed off your figure. On the (now rare) occasion that you put on the dress and don’t like how it makes your fat look, he’d gently coax you out of the bathroom to come show him. “Oh, what’s not to like, baby?” He’d take your hands in his and put them on his shoulders to make you stop hiding behind them. “God, you look gorgeous.” He’d grip your waist and pull you into his chest, kissing your cheek before trailing his lips along your jaw. “If you really don’t like it I’m sure we can find you something else to wear, but you’ll still wear this just for me sometime, right?”

As for my emotional support chads-

I feel like Punz loves bbw. He’s the type to see a big girl across the club and instantly go “that bitch gonna be mine… at least for tonight”. He wouldn’t shy away from your fat- look me in the eye and tell me this man wouldn’t give you tummy or booty rubs when you cuddle. That’s right, you can’t. Because you’re absolutely right: Punz is the assiest ass man to ever ass (did that make sense? No, but I’m vibing so shut up) but he also watches anime and if there’s one thing I know about motherfuckers who watch anime (coming from a motherfucker who watches anime) it’s that they fucking love tiddies.

If you’re dating Punz then 1: mans is smacking your ass whenever you’re in reach. Especially if you decide to be sweet and refill his water bottle while he’s streaming. He doesn’t care if he’s got facecam, hand cam, all of the above- he’s smacking that ass. He’d get a good whack in as soon as you entered his peripheral, then grab your ass and pull you closer until you gave in and leaned down to give him a kiss. “Thank you, baby girl,” he’d hum as you traded his bottle for a full one. “Isn’t she so sweet chat? Fuckin’ wifey shit.” And 2: if he walks in on you laying on your back he’s faceplanting into your tiddies. If you’re laying on your front he’s faceplanting on your ass. Only way to stop him is to tell him seriously that you don’t like it but let’s be real you wouldn’t do that. Whether he’s on your tits or ass he’d mindlessly play with the fat, grabbing a handful and kneading, give a rough pat to make it jiggle against his face and make himself giggle- honestly more fat in Punz’s mind is just more to play with.

Sapnap is probably a bbw appreciator. He might not be as much of a fanatic as Punz, but he’s definitely crushed on a few big girls. I think he’s the kind of guy to not care much about someone’s body beyond ‘yeah I can acknowledge that they’re attractive’ until he starts crushing because we all know when you get a strong crush suddenly everything that motherfucker does is hot. Suddenly he’s watching you adjust your shorts after they ride up due to chub rub, he’s grinning like an idiot because you found something cute in your size and you’re just so happy about it, he’s seeing clothes and thinking about how good they’d look on you. He’d probably admit he likes you on pure accident, maybe you’re hyping yourself up after one too many people were cruel to you about your weight. And he’s watching you pace his room (because of course you had to get your best friend in on this) going between ‘fuck all of them I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me’ and ‘is it really that difficult to find someone who likes big girls’ and he’s tired from staying up all night playing with George and Dream so he just mutters, “so just date me, then… I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Once you start dating he discovers the joy of ‘girlfriend wearing your clothes’ and can’t get over it. Maybe you avoid it, telling him you don’t think they’ll fit, but he looks so excited to see you in them, so you try. Some hoodies and shirts actually fit pretty well, but some are a little tight around your chest and stomach. The first time you felt embarrassed and tried to sneak out of the bathroom to grab a bigger one, but he was waiting for you. He let out a strained breath and you were afraid he was trying to not be mean. “Fuck, darlin’, you look so pretty in my clothes,” he’d breathe out, settling his hands on your hips and pulling you closer. He’d pull you into bed to cuddle, spooning you and loving the feeling of your plush body against him. His hands would constantly be all over you whenever your around- on your thigh when you sit next to him, cupping your tit when you’re spooning, rubbing your hip when you’re laying with your head on his chest, giving you tummy and back rubs when you don’t feel good- he just wants to touch.

Sam always wanted you on his lap. You tried to resist at first, all too conscious of your weight, but he’d pout until he managed to pull you to sit on his thighs, pressing a kiss behind your ear with a smile. “See, darling, I’m fine. Now come on, settle down so we can watch the movie.” And soon it became a habit to settle on your boyfriend’s lap whenever he was on the couch. Of course, often he couldn’t seem to keep his hands under control and he’d find himself reaching under your skirt to rub and knead at your thigh. He seemed to always find himself losing interest in the movie, much more concerned with trailing sweet kisses down your neck and slipping his fingers into your panties.

“My sweet baby,” he cooed as he made you come on his fingers again. You moaned, hand trying clumsily to get him off through his sweatpants through your own pleasure. He gently tsked, crooking his fingers and grinning when your hand faltered against him. “Let me focus on you, darling,” he persuaded, lifting your skirt up around your waist to watch his fingers work. He groaned as he saw the familiar black lace and set to work taking your outer clothes off. “You’re wearing the set I bought you, baby?”

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Wanted to look pretty for you,” you murmured as you helped him tug your dress off. He groaned as you exposed the full set to him, lace accentuating your gorgeous body, and turned yourself to straddle him, grinding against his hard on in his sweats.

“You look gorgeous,” he gushed. His hands roamed your body like he couldn’t believe you were letting him see- let alone touch you. “I want you to ride me, baby,” he whispered reverently, grabbing your ass and pulling you to sit directly on his cock so he could latch his mouth onto the skin above your breast.

You moaned, scrambling to pull his cock out. “Please,” you whimpered, pumping him in your hand as he marked up your chest. He pulled your panties to the side and let you sink down on him, throwing his head back as he was wrapped in your tight heat.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, eyes flying as he watched you bounce on his cock, every part of your body calling his gaze. It was everything he’d ever wanted- seeing his goddess-like girlfriend use him for your own pleasure and take what you wanted from him, wearing what he picked out for you. His hands gripped your ass as he thrust his hips to meet yours, swallowing your moans with a sloppy kiss. “God, you’re so perfect.”

Punz nearly didn’t make it through the front door the first time he brought you home. He growled into your mouth as he pressed you against the hallway wall, your hands pushed under his unbuttoned shirt feeling him up while his found the zipper on your tight dress. You helped him get the dress off with just a hint of shyness that immediately vanished as he groaned and groped your ass with one hand and your tit with the other, grinding his body against yours. “So fucking sexy, bunny,” he groaned, bucking sharply against you and grinning when it pulled a sharp moan from your lips. “Mmm, come here, baby girl.” He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, grinning against your neck as you shreiked in surprise and latched onto his shoulders.

“I gotcha, bunny,” he promised, pulling you off the wall with a deep kiss and carrying you off to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed with you on his lap, leaving one hand kneading your ass while the other slid up to thread through your hair. He purred against your lips as you grinded down on him, his hips coming up to meet yours. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, giving a sharp pull on your hair so he could mark up the underside of your jaw and grinning at your moans- he loved every reaction he pulled from you. He needed more.

“Wanna eat you out,” he growled, helping you push his shirt off his shoulders. “You gonna sit on my face, bunny? Let me drown in your sweet pussy? You panted out a hundred breathy ‘yes's- he’d made it clear earlier, when he made you beg him to finger you while he drove, that he needed verbal consent. You climbed off his lap so he could lay back and as soon as he was settled he was tugging you over by the hips. You kneeled over his head, glancing down at him to double-check that he was okay with this.

He had a dopey smile on his lips as he looked up at your gorgeous body. When he caught your eye he grinned wider, sticking his tongue out and lifting his eyebrows invitingly. You giggled at him but it turned into a moan as he pulled you to his mouth, eagerly lapping at your folds and curling his tongue around your clit. You let out a breathy moan, trying to stop yourself from grinding against his mouth but as soon as you made the slightest movement his strong hands on your hips were pulling you to do it again. He growled against you as he ravenously ate you out, one hand holding your thigh like an anchor and the other guiding your hips- save for when he gave a swift smack on your ass.

He moaned almost as loud as you did as you came on his tongue, making positively obscene noises as he slurped up every last drop. “Good fucking bunny,” he cooed, using your shaky legs to his advantage and firmly holding you down on his mouth. “Can you do it again for me? I’m not done eating yet.”

Sapnap was just so touchy. You never had to question what he thought about your body because his actions told you clearly- but he still made sure to tell you.

“So- haaa- look so pretty, darlin’,” he panted, holding his hair out of his face so he didn’t miss a single second as you sucked him off. “Fuck, so fucking good to me.” You gave a pleased hum at the praise, pulling off his cock to nuzzle against his inner thigh. He leaned closer and cupped your cheeks to pull you up to meet him, covering your face in soft kisses. He pulled you up to sit sideways on his leg, distractedly pushing his fingers into your panties as your hand returned to his cock. He pulled away from your lips just enough to give a needy whine, hot breath fanning over your face. “Fuck, sugar. So fucking pretty- gorgeous, baby.”

You pressed forward, swallowing his praise as you rocked your hips, grinding your clit against his palm as he fucked you open on his fingers. He groaned into your mouth as your hand pumped his cock, stomach tensing as he resisted bucking into your hand- he had no right, he told himself. He should be happy that such a gorgeous, perfect person wanted to pleasure him in the first place- he should be grateful for anything you wanted to give him.

On that note he gently brushed off your hand so he could focus, pumping his fingers inside of you while he searched for your g-spot. He smiled against your lips as you started whimpering, one hand latching onto his shoulder and the other onto his wrist to ground yourself as he worked you closer to your orgasm. “Let me make you come, sugar,” he coaxed, nose brushing yours as he refused to pull away. He had pure adoration in his eyes as your hips jerked against his hand. “Just wanna make you feel good, baby.”

You buried your face in his neck to muffle your moans as you came all over his thick fingers and he carried you through it, cooing how wonderful you were and how pretty you looked when you came until you were pushing his hand away. He laid you down on your back on the bed, covering your face with sweet kisses as you came down from your high then moving down your body. He gently helped you out of your bra and panties then lay down between your legs, resting his head on your chest as he waited for you to come down.

When your hand came up to cup his cheek he looked up at you with a grin, propping himself up and kissing you softly as one hand drifted down to line himself up. “Gonna make you come one more time, darlin’,”

[writerofchub]

Even the sharpest shooter might get dull (stuffing)

Yeah, I almost missed the update today because I spent too much time thinking of my Arthur Alter ideas. But this is Billy the Kid, and I've been owing him a story for a long time, so here's the best outlaw getting properly stuffed with Embers.

And yeah, this fic does reference my older work where Robin gets huge, and Billy gets to help. You can read it here (AO3 link).

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Billy knew his tastes well. It had taken him some godforsaken effort to find out - including one holy boy that would make even the devil scramble, plus his best pal growing into a holy-wholly tower of beef! - but he knew his heart as good as the book.

If a guy could grow into a nice, tubby oinker, Billy’d be there to watch the show. He’d give them a nudge with a sweet word, or two, then let them try it out. If it turned out reckless gluttony was not for them, well - all their power. If it turned out they were like Robin, though -

Billy wasn’t sure if Siegfried had stopped showing up in his armor because his gut would’ve busted the metal.

Still, with how many guys he’d rounded up in his herd, he’d never think to join them. Yeah, it was nice to dream, but he was just a rascal that was a damn good shot. Nothing like Robin, or David, or Arash. And with the Golds in the mix, fortune wouldn’t bless him anytime soon.

But it blessed the Master, who came home with Embers to the ears. All highest quality Archer Embers, not a fake among them. All for Gilgamesh, David, and … him.

“Well?” Master asked after the last of Embers went down Billy. “How’s it being part of the big guys club?”

“Why askin’, Master? Ain’t you the type to know that better than anyone? Went from a lanky beanstalk to true oinker in no time.” Billy drew a big circle with his hands, mirroring Ritsuka’s serious chub. After all, his Mystic Code was lagging over his belly like a cheap cloth.

Billy’s vest still belted a bit of his belly like a mummy’s bandages. One point for his sense of shame, minus a hundred for his comfort; he wasn’t sure he could stand up without his stomach being stuffed in the rigid clothes.

“Well, hanging around so many big guys rubbed off on me, I guess.” Ritsuka walked over the lying outlaw, and his flabby underbelly pushed into Billy’s cannonball.

Hoo boy, was this Master’s rumored pervy side? Billy thought it was just him being watchful like a pack of mice in cat town that made Ritsuka suspect. But no, the Master did have his kinky side, and it was making Billy blush.

“Then I guess this is just the start for me, Master! With how much Robin’s with me, plus how fast Siegfried’s been growin’, seems fate must’ve got something big in store for me.” It was only half a joke; Billy’s gut still had room for more. And that was just the start, the end -

Nah, that small thinking! Perhaps it didn’t need an end!

“That’s how it starts up,” Ritsuka replied, jiggling his fat belly. The ripples crashed against Billy’s gut like waves, and he almost felt huge. “And it all adds up until you end like -”

“What, you? Master, I don’t wanna make you feel the blues, but you’re still a runt to practically everyone else. Expect me, maybe.”

“It’s different - they’re going big. We’re pushing them, after all.” Ritsuka’s belly spilled over Billy’s gut as if embracing him. “Unless you’re saying you want to go big like them?”

“I’m sayin’ I still got a long way to my max, Master.” Billy grinned.

Watching Robin gorge himself into a mountain was fun, but it was just kinda getting to his head. They were rivals, and Billy couldn’t let him be in the lead for long.

And a blushing, shocked Robin would always be a good reason for something!

Ritsuka licked his lips. “Then want to try something else? We’ve still got a lot of Bronzes leftover. How does a quick experiment sound?”

Billy patted his belly. His vest was tight now - with enough Servants to push him to his best inside - “Why a quick one, Master? Best things ought to be treasured!”