Warnings: size/body exclusive (descriptions of fat pussy, belly, thighs), body hair description, pussy job, strapon, fem!reader (no explicit pronouns).
Characters: au!Sasha x fem!reader
A/N: very self indulgent, for those with fat pussies
You know Sasha inadvertently spends all day teasing you with ice cream dripping down her fingers and licking it off, or wearing those tight gym shorts that show off her powerful thighs, or idly playing with your tit while you two lounge on the couch after breakfast. And when you finally look at her with a quirked eyebrow and a crooked finger, she’s all over you claiming it was her plan all along to have you creaming your panties and slicking down your leg. But what really gets her, what really stops her in her tracks between your thighs with a cocky grin akin to something a vampire wears upon seeing a meal; is that when she peels your panties over your hips, there is an audible schk from just how wet she’s made you,
“This all fr-from me? For me?” Sasha gets giddy, gets childish, rubbing the gusset of your soiled knickers and marvelling at the marbling of your arousal while you lay before her heated and grumbling in embarrassment, whining for her to do something about it.
But she doesn’t - well, not really, she reclines on her stomach, nose inches from your mounded mons and she breathes in your heady scent, several times, too many times. Then, well first she swallows the drool threatening to fall from her mouth and then she takes two fingers, thin but muscular and long, the middle baring a plain silver band; and she starts at your pubis, the hood of your clit trembling in anticipation. Sasha carefully, slowly, meticulously slides her fingers down over your pussy, hard enough to spread the fat, puffy folds and the noise you make, the sound that squelches from your cunt is scandalous, it’s loud and lewd and crude and it makes Sasha’s eyes roll into the back of her head, moaning when she presses her fingers back up the curve of your cunt.
“S’your mess Sasha,” you’re hiding behind your hands, knees knocking together when she pulls away and taps her fingers together, witnessing the strings of slick and drool clinging, stretching between her digits before breaking oh so dramatically. She does it again, with the same fingers, slowly parting the lips of your cunt and groaning at the slick squelch, eyes following each ribbon of arousal, every pearl of translucent cum calling for her to - to -
“Wait here doll, just wait - I gotta - don’t move,” she disappears from the bed, from you, from your pussy, clattering about the room and you’re too embarrassed to move, to see what she’s doing because even breathing causes little drippy sounds from between your legs. You can feel it, smeared on your thighs, painted on the outer folds of your pussy and even - oh god is it dripping down to your ass?
“I wanna try this,” rough hands spreading over your thighs causes you to squeal in surprise, jumping further into her grip, eyes opening wide with shock at the touch. Something hits you, hard and cold and wet between your legs and your chest deflates with the recognition, ridges sending chills down your spine and -
“Hear that?” Sasha fiddles with the strapping over her hips, untwisting where it got caught in her desperate attempt to put it on in less than thirty seconds. She’s not even got her leg in the proper hole, but you realise that she...doesn’t really care; you can see her eyes zeroing in on the curved silicon laying over your belly and you can hear the gears turn in her head dictating the way her hips pitch just so - in that perfect angle that has the dildo audibly flicking over your clit, “Listen baby, listen to you,”
“I am Sash - it’s -,”
“A smash hit? The next Christmas number one?” she hitches your thigh higher over her hip and grips your soft flesh a little harder than she probably intended, but it causes you to whimper and rut your pelvis into hers. And the sound, the slchk your pussy makes as her cock curves through your puffy folds is enough to send you both down a very dangerous, very messy rabbit hole. You can’t even reprimand her for trying to be funny or witty when she has a dick slicing over your clit and catching on your hole oh so enticingly,
“Fuck - listen t’you, look at ya,” you’ve got your hands over her tits, trying to feel the swell from under her sports bra and she’s still fucking her cock against the length of your sex. Sasha threads her fingers down between the two of you, slipping and sliding through the thatch of curls over your clit and pressing down clumsily so with every pass of her cockhead catching harder and harder. You yelp, neck craning, eyes squeezing closed at the near painful shocks zipping over the swell of your belly, quivering with every measured and surprisingly precise thrusts she delivers against you.
More. Sasha pulls away for a moment and taps the head of her cock against your cunt, strings of slick connecting the two and producing disgusting noises probably loud enough to wake her roommates. More. You’re so close, even without penetration, Sasha knows how to work her hips and it’s a bit of a strange angle, especially with how wet you are but looking up at her, gazing up through your eyelashes at how she’s staring hard and desperately at your pussy licking the underside of her cock - it’s enough to have you toeing the edge. Sasha’s got her hands iron over your hips, fat squeezing through the gaps of her fingers, the thick ring probably leaving an indent in your skin and she’s got you hitched just so, just at the right height so she’s thrusting up, rolling her cock through the puffy, soaked folds of your cunt, hitting your clit every. single. time. Hair sticks to her forehead and the side of her face, sweat shining over her nose and you can trace the red spatter of flush over her collar and chest, disappearing into the strapping of her bra. She’s so -
“Sasha, m’gonna cum, close - I’m close,” you’re whining before you can stop yourself, rolling your hips in tandem with hers, knees caging her waist and you can see her choke on her breath, panting hard and the wet sounds between your legs. It’s coated, you both are; pussy spilling creamy and sticky over her cock and smearing thick down her thighs and belly. Her thumb pulls the hood of your clit back, the soft fat of your mons parting and cushioning the mean, hard digit and it’s enough to send you over, head digging back into the pillows with a howl.
And she doesn’t stop. Sasha keeps going, keeps rutting her cock through the flush of your orgasm, the sounds of it loud and awful, smacking and squelching with a horrible schk schk schk that only grows in crescendo thanks to your partner’s sudden fascination with how fucking loud you are,
“Can’t wait to do this again, can’t wait to make you all needy again - maybe I'll make you wait a whole week! No - wait - that’s too long,” she’s still fucking up against you, cock so slippery and so thick with translucent cum that it veers under your ass a few too many times, “Can’t believe you didn’t say anything earlier dolly, s’like you maybe liked being all messy and wet all day huh?”
“Shut up,” you’re still coming down, you’re still twitching and sweating, belly quivering and thighs trembling with every sticky pap against your clit, and already - with her continued jerking of her hips - you can feel yourself climbing again. Moaning, you attempt to push Sasha away, hand hard against her firm stomach and she doesn’t seem to want to move, slowing but not stopping, loosening her hold but never letting go,
“Admit it,” Sasha leans over you, knees and thighs hoisting yours up by her arm pits and there's an audible ripple from your cunt, “You loved feeling dirty, being a filthy little thing all cause you wanted me - I wasn’t even doing anything doll, you’re the pervert here,”
In this position, she’s inches away, nose touching yours and lips tracing your own. But it’s the way your pussy curves against the girth of the dildo, hugging the underside and you whimper at the feeling, heavy and ridged against you. Bellies touching, chests pressed together, one hand curled around your head and the other bent at the elbow, propping up her body over yours.
“M’not a pervert, you are,” your pout earns you a harsh, smacking thrust against your sex,
“You wanna say that again pretty baby?” Another thrust, rolling and heavy, thighs bulging against your ass. Sasha huffs into your mouth as if she can feel the way your puffy pussy flutters in acceptance of the dildo, clit kissing the head for a moment before its pulled back, sliding up, up and over before retreating again. And again. And again. You’re shaking in her arms, mewling in time with the pap pap paps of her cock slipping harsh over your cunt.
“Again,” you’re the one speaking this time, begging into her mouth, tongue licking over her lips, “Again Sasha please!”
Her desperation leaks into you, accepting her perversion, ears twitching at the lewd, wet sounds of you - of you. It’s so clear, so sticky, so filthy and yet you want more, god, so much more of it, an addiction you didn’t know you had until Sasha gave it to you. And what? An addiction to yourself? To your own pussy making disgusting slapping sounds every time your partner’s cock sliced through it? Or to Sasha’s shoulders bulging and her jaw ticking, her stomach flexing and her hips rolling so hard, so precise into you? An addiction to the perverse filth of her? Of them?
You’ll just have to find out I suppose.
Tagging: @dearbraus