The Spirit of Competition [pt. I]

Water splattered across the practice ring as Korra ducked and spun, sweat gleaming on her bare brown shoulders. Her breasts bounced with every motion; big, round, and totally unrestrained, swaying and jiggling for all to see as she lashed a whip of water at Bolin. Bran’s suggestion, naturally. He’d grunted, “If the boys can’t focus with your tits out, they don’t deserve to be in the ring,” and as with everything Bran did, no one on the team could think of a good reason to argue.

On the bench, Bran lounged like a mountain of muscle and belly, boots up, shirt half-buttoned, his presence so casual and dominant he may as well have owned the place. He looked like he was only half-watching, but Korra knew those shrewd eyes missed nothing. A faint grin tugged at his rough mouth as he watched her spar with Bolin.

Bolin, for his part, was flustered and happy, cheeks red as he tried to keep his eyes on her whips of water and not her swinging tits. “Not fair, Korra!” he gasped, dodging another blast. “You know it’s, uh, really distracting when you-”

She cut him off, laughing. “That’s the idea! If you can’t keep your eyes off my boobs, how are you gonna dodge a fireball?” Her tone was teasing, but there was pride behind it: pride in her body, her confidence, and the power she had over males. Bran had taught her that, too: there was nothing wrong with being a little whorish if you owned it.

Mako grunted from across the ring, arms folded over his chest. He scowled, glancing away as if he hadn’t just been caught staring. “If you want it fair, Korra, how about you actually put your top on for once?”

She shot him a smug look. “You want it fair, Mako? Drop your pants and swing that dick! Level the playing field.” She watched him, heart thumping in her chest, wishing he’d say yes- wishing he’d do anything that would make him less aloof and more hers.

Spirits, he was handsome. Tall and lean, sharp-featured, smoldering. When he barked orders or flashed those rare crooked smiles, it made her want to melt. He was the kind of guy she could imagine having a real relationship with- someone to hold her at night, to walk with her through Republic City as a real boyfriend, not just a fuck-buddy. Someone she could brag about, could dream about.

And yet…

In the back of her mind, there was always Bran. The man was nothing like Mako: older, heavy, balding, his face blocky and a little homely, but with arms thick as tree trunks and a belly that pressed against her in ways she’d grown to crave. Her pussy practically fluttered just thinking about him: how he could fold her up, fill her up, fuck her dumb and leave her shaking and happy. She adored the way he grunted her name, the way he made her feel like a wild animal in heat. He got her, on a level that went deeper than words.

If Bran ever wanted her in the way she wanted Mako, she probably wouldn’t even hesitate. It was insane, but true: a part of her would have gladly settled for a rough, vulgar, big-bellied earthbender as her boyfriend. But Bran didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He’d made that clear from the first day, after he’d taken her virginity and ruined her for other cocks. “We’re not sweethearts, Korra,” he’d grunted as she lay panting on his chest, “just friends who fuck. You wanna do love and flowers, find someone else.”

She respected him for that, honestly. But sometimes, when she watched him snoring or eating or laughing at one of his own crude jokes, she felt a little tug, just a whisper of longing, quickly shoved aside by his indifference and her own pride. She wanted more, but Bran was all action, no sentiment. And she needed something that felt real and tender, not just rough and raw.

And so her eyes always slid back to Mako, her heart hitching every time he grumbled at her, every time his dark gaze met hers and lingered- just for a second too long.

Korra snorted, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and thrusting her chest out even more. “Tell you what, Bolin: you win the next round, I’ll give you a reward. Full tit-fuck, front and center. Think you can focus with that kind of prize on the line?”

Bolin’s face went beet red, and his pants tented unmistakably. “You… you mean it?” His voice cracked. “I, uh, I’ll do my best!”

Mako let out an exaggerated sigh, scoffing hard. “Spirits, Bolin, how are you still this excited? She gives you tit-fucks for sneezing in her direction. You pop a boner during drills and suddenly it’s ‘best day ever.’” He shot his brother a look that landed somewhere between amusement and mild disgust. “You’d think after the twentieth time you’d calm down already.

Korra pointed straight at Bolin’s crotch, totally unabashed. “Well, I can’t just leave a teammate suffering, can I?” She stuck out her tongue at Mako, hips cocked. “Besides, he’s got a full batch ready to go. Look at him! That’s a seal-tiger’s nut right there, full strength and primed for action!”

Bolin gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up, still red as a beet.

She turned to Mako, flashing him a challenge-smirk. “What about you, Mr. Serious? You get a boner watching and I’ll give you a tit-fuck too. Even the playing field.”

Mako hesitated for half a second, a flash of heat behind his stoic eyes, before giving his usual half-scoff. “I’m here to win matches, not blow loads all over the gym floor. Save it for when we’re not on the clock.”

Korra let her challenge-smirk linger a moment longer, but inside, his words left a little bruise. Spirits, why did he have to be so distant? She knew she was hot- hell, she’d had more cocks in her mouth in the past month than she’d had growing up. She could make Bolin melt with a wink, had half the Acolytes on the island lining up for a chance to sample her tits, and Bran’s gigantic cock was basically her second home by now. But with Mako? Every teasing offer, every not-so-subtle invitation, just bounced off that handsome, stubborn shell.

It stung- a sharp little jab under all her bravado. Most guys would kill for the attention she threw at Mako. The fact that he kept brushing her off didn’t make her want him less, either. If anything, his aloofness just made her ache for him more. She found herself hungry for that moment when he’d finally break, finally pull her in and give her what she craved: not just a quick fuck, but the sense that she’d finally cracked through that brooding mask and made him hers.

But for now, she just rolled her eyes and grinned wider, shoving the pang down with practiced ease. There was a match to win, a brother to tease, and a whole lot of sexual energy swirling through the gym…just the way she liked it.

And besides, she could always count on her big fat dick to be in her corner:

Bran barked a short laugh from the sidelines, his deep voice echoing in the gym. “Heh. Maybe your balls are just too small, Mako. Or maybe you just don’t know what to do with a girl like her.”

Bran was such a dick, to anyone and everyone. Probably her favorite part of him.

He didn’t bother lowering his voice or hiding the smirk tugging at his lips as he eyed Mako. Everyone knew Bran had no filter, especially when it came to sex, and that his sense of hierarchy only extended as far as someone’s ability to put out or put up a fight. Mako generally ignored Bran but Korra caught the flush under his cheekbones. Bolin just laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bran bent a chunk of dirt from the ring smacking it solidly against Bolin’s shoulder with a thud of approval. “See, Bolin, at least you got the stones to go after what you want. You let a beauty like Korra swing her tits in your face, you thank her proper. That’s why you’re my favorite Ferret.”

Korra bobbled her boobs at Bran with her hands, “I thought I was your favorite…” but she grinned at her stud and turned back to wink at Bolin, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Alright, ready to lose again, champ?”

Bolin grinned, determination flickering in his green eyes. “You’re on, Korra! I’m not gonna get distracted this time-”

He charged, a disc flying from his fists, but Korra was faster, water swirling and coiling around the rock, redirecting it harmlessly aside. She pressed the attack, closing in with a smooth, fluid motion -her tits swinging, water coiling- and Bolin stumbled, cheeks blazing. He managed a half-hearted earth wall, but she swept it aside with a jet of water, then struck again with a sharp crack of her water whip, snapping it across his chest and forcing him to retreat with a grunt. Bolin dug in, face set, and stomped hard- earth discs burst from the racks and shot toward her in quick succession.

Korra ducked the first, spun around the second, and slapped the third aside with a coiling stream of water that hissed against the dirt. Bolin wasn’t giving up easily. He moved fast for a guy his size, circling, hammering the floor, raising low walls and sudden jutting pillars to keep her off-balance. Spears of rock burst from the ring, but she flowed between them, slipping through tight spaces with the ease of a dancer even as Mako barked at him about illegal moves.

Water cracked like a whip again, chasing Bolin to the edge of the ring. He countered with a rising wave of dirt, forcing her to backpedal, and then launched himself forward, discs in both fists, roaring.

They clashed again and again. Blast against block, strike against sweep. The ring churned with motion and noise, the floor a mess of gouged stone and puddled water. Bolin looked winded, soaked and panting, but still swinging.

Korra closed in one final time, a swirling vortex of water wrapped around her arms. Bolin tried to wall her off, but she smashed through, surging in with a heavy blast of water straight to his chest.

He flew back with a shout, tumbling through the air and landing flat on his back just beyond the chalk line.

Korra let out a whoop and jumped in place, fists raised, tits bouncing wildly with each joyous hop. “That was awesome!” she beamed, grinning from ear to ear as droplets of sweat flicked from her brow.

Bolin groaned from where he lay sprawled in the dirt, but the grin tugging at his lips said it all.

Mako, arms crossed and unimpressed, stepped closer with a scowl. “Bolin, that was reckless. Half those moves aren’t even legal in the arena. What’s the point if you’re just throwing flashy junk?”

But Korra was already at Bolin’s side, grabbing his hand and yanking him up into a tight, excited hug. His face went right into the middle of her big, slick tits- sweaty and soft, and bouncing gently against his cheeks as she laughed.

Bolin blinked, dizzy, not even pretending to resist. “Totally worth it,” he mumbled into her cleavage, dazed and delighted. “I was inspired.”

Bran’s deep laughter boomed through the gym, even as he was already pushing up off the bench. By the time Bolin managed to break the ice and stagger upright, Bran was already lumbering forward, boots thudding on the mat. He peeled off his half-buttoned shirt as he walked, leaving it to crumple on the ground. His cock- grotesquely huge, swinging between his thighs- was already thickening with anticipation.

Korra grinned, not missing a beat, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pants. With a teasing little twist of her hips, she pushed them down, revealing a fancy, sweat-soaked thong that clung desperately to her body. The fabric was slick and ruined, plastered between her cheeks, practically see-through.

The moment felt frozen- that ass, rich brown and gloriously round, jiggling ever so slightly as her pants dropped around her boots. It wasn’t just big. It was obscene, full and firm, the kind of butt that demanded attention, framed perfectly by the ruined sliver of damp fabric lost in the deep crease between her cheeks.

She stood proudly in the center of the ring, hands on her hips, tits rising with every heavy breath. “Looks like I get the prize this round,” she said, clearly enjoying all three pairs of male eyes glued to her butt.

Bran’s big, pale hands landed on those thick, brown buttcheeks, sinking in, greedy and possessive, his thick fingers dimpling the flesh. He loomed, eyes glinting with hunger as he gave her a rough squeeze and growled, “Come here, girly.”

Korra let out a squeal, equal parts thrill and delight, and without a second thought she leapt into Bran’s arms, wrapping herself around him. Her legs locked around his waist as she pressed her face to his chest, laughing breathlessly while Bran’s arms, strong as iron bands, hauled her up and squeezed her close. The boys could only stare as Korra melted into Bran’s embrace, completely unashamed, completely his.

Mako rolled his eyes and turned away, but it was a show; he always pretended not to look, but his ears burned red, and his eyes always flickered back.

No one was surprised. Bran had only started hanging around a week ago, but he was already a fixture at their training sessions. The first time, the boys had walked into the gym to find Korra had arrived early- so early, in fact, that she and Bran were already at it, right in the middle of the space. Bran had introduced himself without missing a thrust, one big arm hooked around Korra’s waist as she clung to his front, bouncing shamelessly on his massive cock while he stood, casual as could be.

Suffice it to say, the Fire Ferrets’ training session that day had started with an impromptu sauce-milking- Bolin, wide-eyed and eager, jerking off into his pot while staring openly at Bran’s unbelievable size thrusting into Korra’s pussy while Mako, red-faced, retreated to the far end of the gym to try and keep his dignity (and his load) for later.

But his own erection had been so insistent, so overwhelming, that he’d barely made it to the storage room before he was furiously jerking himself off, breath ragged. The orgasm hit so fast and hard he hadn’t even managed to get his sauce bottle in place: he’d ended up wasting an entire night’s load all over the floor, panting in shame and disbelief as he cleaned up the mess.

Bran’s presence in their training routine had changed more than just the mood of the gym, it had changed the brothers themselves.

Having a mountain of a man like Bran hanging around, his cock swinging like a club, fucking their hot, teammate at a whim… well, it was impossible for Mako and Bolin not to feel it in their guts. Their balls seemed to be working overtime just being near him. Something about the constant sexual tension- Korra’s bouncing tits, Bran’s heavy meaty tool, the raw slap and squelch of sex echoing off the walls; had put both Fire Ferret brothers into a permanent state of arousal. Just training with Korra was enough to make their cocks hard. With Bran in the mix, their own sauce production was up like never before.

And Bran, for all his crude attitude, wasn’t stingy with his own loads. On days he stayed for lunch, and Korra had sucked and jerked his monster cock over their bowls of noodles or rice without a second thought, splattering the heavy, pearly nut sauce with a few lazy pumps of her fist. It was rich, almost buttery, and packed so much protein and flavor that both brothers started using it for everything: stir-fries, dipping sauce, even drizzled over roasted veggies. Bolin claimed it was “the secret to pro-bender gains.” Mako pretended to grumble but never left a drop behind.

But Bran’s real impact wasn’t just culinary. His presence meant Korra’s discipline was shot half the time. It was a wonder they got any training done at all with the way she’d let Bran bend her over the equipment racks, squat on his lap between sparring rounds, or ride him in the corner with the kind of moans that echoed up into the stands. Most days, if Bran wanted to fuck her, she’d go from trash-talking Bolin to sucking Bran’s cock in the blink of an eye, sometimes while Mako tried to call out strategy.

And Bolin? It was impossible for him to concentrate when Bran had Korra pinned to the mat, her fat brown tits wobbling with every thrust. More than once, Mako had to snap at him: “Bolin! Get your load in the sauce-pot, don’t waste it just drooling on the floor!”, so they could actually cash in on the extra money they were making from their newly abundant supply.

If the price of having a monster-cocked, heavy-handed brute hanging around was that their gym had become part training ground, part brothel, and part five-star nut-sauce kitchen… well, nobody was complaining. Not really.

And if Korra ended most sessions sweaty, sore, and full of Bran’s cum, well, that was just normal.

Now, Bran had barely gotten his hands on Korra before he was spinning her around, manhandling her like she weighed nothing. She squealed, laughing breathlessly, her tits bouncing as he twisted her hips and dropped her on all fours right in the middle of the ring.

“Don’t bruise me up too bad, Bran,” she teased, bracing herself, hair wild and eyes glittering with excitement.

Bran just grunted, running his big hands up the curve of her back, grabbing her hips. “Quit your yapping, girly. Only thing you need to worry about is if you can walk after.”

He lined up behind her and after slapping it wetly against both asscheeks as he pulled the string of her thong to one side, he pushed in. Korra gasped, rocking back into him with a greedy roll of her hips. She slapped her own ass with a wild laugh, egging him on. “Spirits, that’s what I’m talking about!”

Bolin hovered at the edge, dick out and hard and bobbing as he watched, unsure whether to get closer. Bran jerked his chin at him, voice booming with approval. “C’mon. After that hell of a match, you earned yourself a treat. Get over here and put her mouth to work.”

Bolin lit up, nearly tripping over his own pants in his rush to kneel in front of Korra. “You sure?” he asked, grinning, his cheeks red but his eyes full of eager, dumb hope.

Korra didn’t even pause. She winked up at Bolin as she stroked his cock with her fist. “Open for business, champ. You wanna see how fast you can fill my mouth while Bran pounds my pussy?”

Bran chuckled, pressing deep, his hands digging into her wide hips. “Don’t take all day, kid. Her sweet cunt is already trying to suck me inside out.”

Korra moaned around Bolin’s cock, greedy and sloppy, her head bobbing in his lap while she slammed her hips back against Bran’s brutal thrusts. Her brown ass rippled and shook with every smack of his hips, the whole room echoing with the slap of flesh and Korra’s muffled, eager slurping.

Bolin barely lasted a minute, groaning helplessly as he shot into her mouth, hands fisting in her hair. Korra swallowed every drop with a satisfied hum, never missing a beat as she kept pushing her ass back against Bran’s relentless pounding.

Bran watched her cheeks ripple, pride rough in his voice. “That’s my girl. Turned you into a real damn thoroughbred, didn’t I?”

Korra let Bolin’s softening cock slip from her lips and glanced over her shoulder, grinning wickedly. “Only because you trained me right, big guy. Keep going, I’ll let you know when I need a water break.”

Bran just snorted, doubling down, and Bolin, dazed and spent, flopped onto his back, watching the two of them with wide, amazed eyes—already looking forward to the next round.