Mini Torso Masturbator (5 pound stroker with flat ass base, large tits on top, and pussy in center)

Randy ripped the cardboard box open and the five pound silicone toy landed on his unmade bed with a soft, heavy bounce—those ridiculous, pale tits jiggling like they were proud of themselves. It was a mini torso masturbator with two entrances, pussy and anus, with large tits on top and a flat ass that can easily be positioned on a table or bed. He stripped fast, cock already aching, and flipped the toy onto its back. A quick squirt of lube down the tight pink slit between the breasts, another into the molded pussy tucked just beneath, and he was on his knees between its nonexistent thighs.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered, lining up and sinking in to the hilt in one slow push. The silicone gripped him like a fist, warm from the heater he’d left running. He grabbed a fat tit in each hand and started thrusting hard, the whole toy rocking under him, tits slapping against his wrists with every stroke.

That’s when it happened.

The toy jerked—hard. Not the lazy bounce of dead weight, but a sharp, living clench around his cock that made Randy’s eyes snap wide.

“What the fu—”

Another spasm, stronger. The pussy clamped down so tight his hips stuttered. The toy arched violently, flat ass bowing off the mattress, trying to shove him out. Randy’s heart slammed against his ribs; he yanked backward on reflex, cock slipping free with a wet pop. The thing immediately flopped forward, tits smacking the sheets, and started humping the bed like a panicked seal.

“Holy shit, holy shit—” Randy scrambled back on his knees, dick bobbing, staring at the living fuck-toy desperately trying to crawl away from him. It managed six inches, dragging itself with frantic little thrusts of its hips, pussy winking open and closed, dripping lube onto his comforter.

It was the hottest, most insane thing he’d ever seen.

“Holy shit, you’re alive?” His voice cracked, half terror, half lust. The toy bucked again, twisting its upper half sideways, trying to roll off his cock’s memory. Those massive breasts swung like wrecking balls; one caught the edge of the pillow and it spun, landing tits-down, ass slightly up, still inching forward in pathetic spasms.

Randy’s shock lasted exactly three seconds. Then the sight of that tight, panicked pussy clenching on nothing while the toy tried to escape sent a jolt straight to his balls.

“Fuck—no you don’t.”

He lunged, grabbing a tit in each hand like handles and dragging it back. The toy squirmed harder, whole-body rippling, pussy fluttering wildly as he lined up and slammed back in. It clenched again—angry, terrified, involuntary—and Randy groaned like he’d been punched in the dick.

“Shit, keep fighting. That cunt’s milking me so good.”

He pinned it down with his weight and started pounding again, harder than before. The toy thrashed under him, arching and twisting, trying to wrench itself off his cock. Every time it managed an inch of wiggle room, Randy just yanked it back by the tits and buried himself deeper.

In a **** attempt it threw everything into one massive convulsion, back bowing so high the pussy nearly spit him out. Randy growled, hooked an arm under the curve where thighs should be, and flipped it over. The sudden shift caught it off-guard; momentum carried it forward, tits dragging across the sheets, and for one glorious second it actually slid clean off his cock.

It immediately started the inchworm panic-crawl—pussy smacking wetly against the comforter, dragging itself toward the edge of the bed in **** two-inch surges.

Randy watched, panting, cock glistening and furious. The toy was halfway to freedom, ass shelf jiggling with every pathetic hump, leaving a shiny trail of lube and fear behind it.

“Damn, this is kinda fun.”