something something choso using his blood manipulation to keep himself hard for hours… 18+
a man with supernatural stamina sounds so good in theory, and you have so much fun with it most of the time, but when you’re so stuffed with cum you can almost taste it, and your pussy is sore and quivering so much every thrust feels like it’s splitting you open and putting you back together again—you start to regret not teaching your sweet, inexperienced boyfriend to pace himself.
he’s on top of you, whining in your ear like a mutt - humping his cock into you like one too. he’s been at this same unrelenting pace for what feels like hours, pressing your legs to your chest to give him more leverage, more reach into your squelching, sloppy cunt. it’s bullying, really, and no amount of pretty words he whispers into your ears can change that. not when it’s paired with the drag of his unnaturally hard, large dick along your spasming walls, his thick tip kissing your cervix and leaking his precum into your swollen womb.
“‘s deep, cho—slow… slow down.”
“i can’t, i’m sorry, baby—you—haaah—your pussy feels too good. i cant help it,” he whines, voice cracking with remorse. he presses in closer to you, dropping onto his forearms, prying your legs open with his broad hips instead. your sensitive nipples rub against his strong chest, and your jaw goes slack at the new angle—with how close the two of you are, it’s hard to pinpoint where he ends and you begin. “it’s not enough, never enough. i need it deeper, please. how can i get my cock deeper inside you?”
“mmf—can’t! y’r gonna break me, baby.”
choso flat out sobs at the denial, salty globs of tears dripping from his flushed cheeks while his long, messy hair tickles your face. a large hand slides down your body, stopping to cup the swell of your ass, and you gasp and clench around him when he drags you down in time to meet his brutal thrusts. the sound of your hips meeting, his taut balls slapping against you fills the room, making a symphony out of your breathy moans. you can feel every vein on his dick, all that throbbing length and thick girth stuffing and stretching you as he pounds you like it’s his last time.
“deeper, deeper, deeper, please,” he’s chanting desperately, panting like a puppy. each cant of his hips jostles you farther up the bed, and all you can do is lay there and take it, your hands weakly gripping his bulky biceps, small noises being punched out of your throat. “i wanna cum again. gonna shoot it so deep—fill your stomach with it. please, can i? can i?”
way passed the point of trying to speak, all you manage is a weak little nod. choso’s pleading breaks off into a series of thank you’s, and he drops his head into your neck, kissing and sucking gently, trying to make up for the erratic, brutal way he’s drilling into you.
you wrap your legs and arms around him in attempt to tether yourself to the earth again, forcing him deeper, somehow, someway, and he lets out a drawn out moan that sounds a lot like relief. “yes, yes, there we go. oh—i’m all the way inside you now, baby. can—can you feel me?”
as if to emphasize his statement, he presses in as far as he can go and stops thrusting, hips rolling in a deep grind instead. you swear you feel his spongy tip piercing your stomach, breaching an uncharted depth of you, and it makes your skin burn—all it takes to force your third orgasm of the night out of you. either choso doesn’t notice you spasming uncontrollably around him, or he feels too good to care, but he doesn’t give either of you time to catch your breath, pulling out just a little before shoving back in. his hips stutter as he pumps his fat dick into you with short, deep thrusts, babbling incoherently, crying prettily. completely and utterly pussydrunk.
“—mmm—y’r milking me—so good, s-so tight and warm inside. gonna cum for you again—”
and he does. you feel it, the hot release spurting inside of you. he fucks you through it, using your pussy as a cocksleeve to milk every last drop of it. pumps it in so deep, and there’s so much you feel it leaking out from the sides where his girth has you all plugged up. you feel something wet drip onto your breasts, and you realize choso’s fucked himself so stupid he’s drooling, arms shaking from exertion.
you run your fingers through his hair, a halfhearted attempt at consoling him—really, it should be the the other way around—and he moans, small and pained, when you involuntarily clench around him.
“baby…” you lift his head up to look at him. “are you still hard?”
shyly, he nods, an apologetic look in his glassy, unfocused eyes. “please… one more?”
puppy!Dennis obsessed with the way his boyfriends smell.
Waking up from his nap in puppyspace with his nose buried in Robby’s armpit.
Jack trudging through the door from his night shift and Dennis launching himself from the dog bed next to the couch, to stuff his face into Jacks’ crotch, taking slow, deep inhales.
Robby who tries to indulge him but can’t stand feeling dirty for too long. Dennis who whines outside the glass his whole time Robby’s in the shower. Then pinning him against the wall to sniff out any leftover musk.
“Where’s my good boy?”
“In the laundry room sniffing our underwear. Again.”
