Striptease

HAPPY NEW 2026 YEAR, GUYS!!!!

Sorry for the slightly delayed chapter. It's the New Year holidays, I hope you understand.

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Chris slowly exhaled. His gaze fixed on Kyoka in her insanely sexy shorts. She knew what she was doing. And he understood perfectly that it was time to add some fire.

His hand slid to the nearest rack with lingerie, running over the hangers with revealing, barely noticeable scraps of fabric.

And suddenly – a godsend.

Black translucent nylon, glossy, shiny, wildly depraved. A G-string with ultra-thin straps that would disappear between buttocks, and a tiny bikini bra that would barely cover the nipples, if at all. A smirk flashed across his face – bold, dirty, challenging.

«It's just perfect for her~...».

— These… They will sit perfectly on your bum~… — he said, biting his lip. His face made it clear he was confident in his choice and already fantasizing about her in such a revealing outfit.

Kyoka caught that look right away – and the smile that played on her lips gave away that she fully understood Chris' "hidden" desire to see her in lingerie. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a playful spark flashing in them, ready to burn the whole world in a blaze of passion. Sliding her fingers over the smooth nylon, she slowly curved her lips into a sultry half-smile. In that gesture was a silent answer: «Yes, I WILL make your fantasies come true~». He'd see her almost naked, covered only by a few daring strips of thin lingerie… And she herself craved the moment when his face would twist with lechery and desire.

— M-mh~… Ya flatterin' me again, Chrissy-kun — she purred, tilting her head to the side; a smile played on her lips – dark, confident, and promising. — Fine… I'll slip into this naughty thing, just for you. But on one condition… — She leaned towards Chris' chest in a playful pose, not taking eyes off him. — After the fittin', you take off whatever's left on me yourself... Deal, cutie~?

His heart skipped a beat.

He still hadn't fully gotten used to how quickly and drastically her behavior had changed. Just recently, she was a bold and shy girl, someone fun to hang out with as friends. But not like this – not so openly, not so willingly showing her sexual wishes and lust, not so desiring him. Now she was practically dragging him along with the luscious sway of her sinfully appetizing hips. She was doing what the old Kyoka would only dream of in her hottest and wettest dark fantasies.

And he loved it immensely.

He suddenly realized: this wasn't just physical attraction to a beautiful girl ready to jump on his cock at any moment. Every move of her hips, every charming seductive gaze, and her lewd playful smile with a hint of debauchery drove into him not just desire – to dive into it, consume it, and at the same time – cherish it carefully. Love seeped into lust and made it sharper, bigger, more aggressive: he loved her with his whole body and soul, and that feeling only fueled his appetites. Chris felt the arousal weighing heavy in his stomach, pulling downward, throbbing in his balls, as if every cell in his body demanded Kyoka Jiro in every possible way and pose…

They reached the fitting rooms – her hips moved in a slow, measured rhythm. The tight shorts hugged every curve, lifting slightly with each step and teasing him with fleeting glimpses of soft skin. In her hand, the thin straps of her micro-bikini dangled like bait, lazily swaying between her fingers. He followed her without thinking, drawn in by the gravity of her movements – as if bewitched by a spell that left only one truth in his mind: he had to possess her, or become entirely hers.

Kyoka stopped at one of the booths – sized almost like a small room. There was plenty of light and mirrors on every side, so the customer could see themselves from all angles. Without a word, she tossed the set onto the small couch in front of the open booth and stepped inside. Then in the booth's doorway, she stopped abruptly, as if remembering something, though in her head she was just thinking about her actions: «So, just clothin' off in front of him? …Boring and no fun at all… Mm~! Maybe… put on a "show" for him~? Hi-hi-hi-hi~...». — she smiled extremely slyly and promisingly — «Hm, I think he's earned his reward for today~».

Kyoka lightly brushed her shoulder against the curtain separating the inner space from prying eyes. Stepping inside, she only glanced at it briefly, making sure not to snag the fabric. Kyoka knew perfectly: in her revealing show, the curtain would only get in the way, hiding what, in her opinion, should soon be put on display…

Chris eased silently onto the soft couch in front of the booth, first grabbing the lingerie set without bothering to question why she'd left it out with him. His knees relaxed and spread apart. Hands resting on his thighs, and his pants tightened around his crotch, giving Kyoka a great view of the quite thick and elongated bulge of his reproductive organ. His eyes froze on her, his gaze becoming exactly what she wanted – greedy, predatory, anticipatory. He had no intention of looking away until she revealed ALL her secrets.

Kyoka, briefly pondering her next moves, decided to start the "show". Unnoticed by the passionate pair, the music that had been quietly playing throughout the store switched to a new one. Slower, smoother, sexier, and hotter. The bass and vibrations of the new track pulsed in Kyoka's temples, nipples, and clit, making her subconscious flow into the rhythm of the music, while for Chris, the "excitement" was happening mainly just in the head of his dick.

She elegantly turned to face Chris and began to saunter toward him like a stripper in a private dance, under the beat. Her eyes, hazy with hornyness and accentuated by black eyeliner, slid first over Chris' face and chest, but when the music's tempo shifted slightly on the first playthrough, her gaze and mind by themselves began to greedily devour his juicy, aromatic, slightly pulsating bulge, from which her mouth watered more and more, and her pussy got wetter.

From such succulent forms hidden in Chris' tight pants, dirty scenes of active interaction between her throat and lips with the male "joy stick" in front of her started flashing in Kyoka's head on their own. Her hips and ass swayed sweetly in an exaggerated "cat on the prowl" gait, while her breasts bounced mesmerizingly in time with her sharp steps and the booming bass.

Kyoka stopped in front of Chris, looked him sharply and piercingly in the eyes, drawing his gaze from her ample breasts to her cute, seductive face expressing quiet proud – the face of a girl who loves when guys stare so boldly and dirtily at her titties. Her palms ended up on her fertile hips, and her whole appearance screamed boldness and a desire to be examined and studied by the keen, hot gaze of the guy she loved.

Kyoka quite skillfully and gracefully managed to take off her heels, despite her wide stance and high stilettos. Her toes touched the cold and shiny, though not very clean, floor. Here and there were spots of something dried and clearly organic.

«Looks like someone already had som' fun here before us~». — Kyoka thought, almost stepping in one such spot with her short black sock. With her foot she pushed the heels aside.

Her hands began to move as her fingers grabbed at the now useless undone zippers. Her shoulders were freed from the artificial material's captivity in one motion, revealing the toned arms of the girl, practically radiating strength and months of intense workouts. The jacket was deftly and quickly tossed back – into the booth, where it hit the wall with a loud but dull thud before falling to the floor.

— Whoa~. Getting all heated up already? Am I that hot~? — Chris asked with unharmed sarcasm and a lewd smile.

— Yeah, very much. — the girl of his long-time dreams replied quickly and thoughtlessly shutting him up with a pleasant but harsh answer.

Kyoka drew Chris' attention back to herself by firmly pressing his legs together with her hands and gently landing on their base near his crotch. Her toned arms carefully and romantically wrapped around his neck as their noses were almost touching. Her soft ass wiggled and rolled on Chris' crotch to the music's beat for extra tension, marked by Chris' stifled quiet moan and his grip on her muscular sides. A Cheshire teasing smile spread across her lips as in one moment Kyoka felt "the well-hardened phallic object" with the edge of her inner thigh. A swarm of butterflies rose in her stomach from such a surprise, and ecstasy intoxicated her head even more. She whispered hotly, her face flushing more and more with blood, tinting her peachy skin in a sexy deep blush.

— O-oh~, Chrissy~… already standin' at full attention, my sweetie~? But I've literally just warmed up… fu-fu-fu-fu~! — She laughed mockingly-playfully — O-o-o… I could call ya pathetic like those losers who pop wood the second they see me... But na-a-ah~… you look WA-A-AY too tasty for that kind of crap~. — She purred, stretching her lips into a sly-arrogant-sweet smile, while memories of "the past" from school days flashed in her head, when she often fucked all sorts of wimps and sissies who were always on the bottom. They were never enough for her, and she was always looking for someone on her level – bold, brave, witty and ultra horny. But she always ended up with either pumped-up dumb jocks with too huge cocks that would sooner tear a girl apart than please her, or those same wimps whose dicks were often too small for any kind of pleasure.

But it seems she'd hit the jackpot.

As she "recalled" her school years, a soft pink aura shimmered near her crotch. Her virgin hymen disappeared, and both her passages stretched and smoothed out, as if from years of pounding with sex toys and cocks of various sizes and shapes. Gradually, her brain was filled with the memory of a former gyaru-tomboy with an unbearably high libido that hadn't calmed down after a couple of years. Kyoka no longer remembered a single moment in her life when she wasn't aroused or didn't get turned on "with half a turn" starting from the beginning of puberty.

She was ALWAYS on edge.

Snapping out of the "new" memories, Kyoka pulled Chris into what was now a skilled and experienced kiss, rising on one leg, resting her knee of the other leg on his thigh, and hugging his head with both arms, kissing him vertically actively. Chris' hands unconsciously slid to her sweet plump buns. And when they reached their goal, Kyoka suddenly remembered that she wanted to tease Chris, not give in to the desire to fuck the guy in front of her. With a loud "SMACK", she abruptly pulled her lips from his, then quite quickly grabbed his hands, removing them from her ass.

«Like, there ain't a whole menu o' places to grab on me…» — Kyoka thought to herself a bit offended, but still smiled. «Though… Maybe he's just an "ass guy"?», then saying out loud:

— Na-ah~! Hmf-… — As a final "no", she decided to smack him quickly on the lips, though she didn't succeed, as she got lost again in the Chris' scent and taste. Peeling her eyes open from the sweet haze a second later, she finished her sentence:

— These goodies gotta get inspected first before you can use 'em~… — She pointed to her protruding large breasts and bit her equally plump lips, on which a small string of saliva remained.

Kyoka's hands slid from his neck and braced against the wall behind him, her legs stood straight. Her breasts were right in front of his face, and her smooth knee was too close to Chris' crotch, so it kept accidentally brushing against his cock shaft, involuntarily causing shivers in him. Kyoka noticed the pattern between her joint and the tremors on his body, making her lips, already spread in a greedy smile, stretch even wider, creating small dimples at the corners of her mouth.

After just a couple of such repeated circular movements, when Kyoka would already be so aroused that she was ready to just snap and fuck Chris, she held back. First, her knee straightened, breaking the distance with his crotch, and then her leg stepped back, so the second one repeated the action. She stepped back to free up some space for movements.

Her hands deliberately slowly began rising up the sides of her torso to reach her head. The fingers of her gentle hands dove into her hair, pushing it back so her right eye became visible. She kept her wide lustful smile on her face as she seductively narrowed her eyes during another assessment of Chris' body. Her lower lip completely hid behind her upper row of teeth in a sexy bite. Elbows pointed almost upward, making her breasts the center of attention.

Kyoka began slowly and languidly swaying her torso so her firm breasts swung with her body. She did it mindlessly, as if instinctively knowing how to please males' eyes when you want to show off your assets. The girl decided to develop her movement, starting to languidly move her hips in opposite directions to the beat of the new composition that had quietly but noticeably started playing from the speakers. The new movements helped her tits sway more strongly and hypnotically jiggle, overcoming the tension of the bra and the tight crop top. Kyoka boldly, with a touch of audacity, stuck out her tongue, showing her piercing that she'd gotten back in school, but which "for some reason" hadn't been noticed by Chris until now.

Though… in his head, quite vivid "memories" were already slipping in of how he actively licked the metal in Kyoka's mouth even during their first kiss. «Must have been lost in the moment…» — Chris noted to himself, continuing to watch and trying to not notice the changes.

After a couple more hips movements, Kyoka decided to shift Chris' attention, turning her huge ass toward him. She lowered her hands, interlacing her fingers, her gaze fixed on Chris as her head turned to him on the left side, so her only visible eye locked onto the guy's face, while his eyes wandered exactly where she wanted to direct his gaze, and it was clearly lower than her face.

She spread her legs a bit wider to better shake her "mass" in front of hungry for the show man. Her hips, buttocks, and thighs started swaying and jiggling much more intensely as the music picked up, along with the couple's lust. The movement in Chris' pants increased with every sway of Kyoka's hips. His cock was slowly continuing to grow, surpassing the 7-inches mark.

Her dance became more vulgar, clearly aimed at attraction and arousal. Her ass in the tight shorts swayed, practically begging to be touched, groped, fucked. In every movement, there was a deep, wild, primal desire to mate. She bent her knees slightly, placed her hands on her wide hips, arched her back and began smoothly rotating her ass, tracing circles. Her buttocks, squeezed by the fabric, moved rhythmically, rising and falling, teasing Chris with their firmness. Kyoka leaned forward a bit, letting the shorts hug her curves even tighter, and added her hands to the motion, sensually grabbing the pliable flesh. Her breathing grew heavier, her eyes burned as she started rotating her ass in a figure-eight, not breaking eye contact with him, even though he wasn't looking back at her.

She was preparing for the next stage of her show.

Kyoka sensually and slowly turned to face Chris again. Their eyes met, each clearly seeing the partner's desires and passion. They wanted each other. But they also wanted to delay the climax until its logical end. Though Kyoka decided to speed up the process a little, feeling an itching emptiness in her pelvic area.

Her tender and strong hands erotically flowed forward – to her wide hips, traveling a bit lower down her thighs and ending at her knees. Her back straightened, and her palms shot upward, landing on the waistband of her shorts. Her fingers deftly fiddled along the seam of the edge, searching for the button – the only reliable barrier now protecting her sexual body from nudity. And just as quickly as her fingers found the button, it was yanked out of its loop, opening space for viewing and new moves.

Kyoka bit her lip after coming up with something more to offer Chris, but not giving him too much. Her hand slowly slid over the zipper pull, with a hypnotically SLOW sound revealing the space of fabric on her black lace panties, through the thin, translucent fabric, through which one could see her pussy if the shorts weren't in place and if Kyoka *didn't have the desire to do "something different"****...***

The walls of the depraved devil's womb began rhythmically contracting in time with the music and her heartbeat, as if calling for action themselves – knowing what she wanted and why she was opening herself to him. Kyoka slightly pulled the edge of her panties with one finger, at the same moment as her other hand slipped inside, diving under the thin wet silk with high precision.

The panty fabric stuck to her skin, and when her fingers broke through the narrow gap, they smacked wetly, peeling away from her stretched and glistening labia. Without a word, Kyoka spread her legs wider – firmly, resiliently, confidently – displaying her entire lower abdomen and the front plane of her shorts, parted just enough for Chris to see her fingers tormenting the hidden depravity between her legs, covered by scraps of fabric. Her chest heaved more, her nipples pressed against the crop top fabric, swollen and clearly rubbed against the inner side of the material. Her plump lip-kissers trembled, her eyes darkened, filled with a moist gleam. Her mouth transformed again into a depraved bite.

She began moving her fingers – slowly, with pressure, tracing along the edges of her labia, pulling them inward and revealing more of the glistening center. Her pussy skin was now wet and hypersensitive, easily yielding to pressure. Her sharp nails dragged down and back, pressing, smearing the mucus, making the aroused flesh pulse even stronger.

— Mgh-h~… O-o-oh~! — escaped from her low, intermittent, almost plaintive moan. Her gaze unwaveringly followed Chris' face, spread in a satisfied smile, patiently awaiting the finale.

The pads of her fingers gently settled right in the center and began circling her sensitive clit hood, brushing the swollen head. She shuddered. Her body rocked forward, her hips jerked, her stomach arched slightly, and a muffled moan escaped her open mouth. Her fingers started moving faster – sliding over the taut skin, going up and down, losing focus. From under the fabric, the wet smacking grew louder, and Kyoka almost involuntarily began moving her hips forward and back, impaling herself on her own fingers. Her head tilted back, hair falling behind, and her body sank deeper and deeper into a wave of scorching, sticky arousal.

— Gr-ra-ah~! A-a-a~… — Kyoka growled through her teeth, parting her mouth and arching her back as her middle and ring fingers slowly plunged into her hot, thoroughly soaked pussy. She inserted them deep, almost to the base, and began slowly but confidently moving in and out, with each new thrust feeling how everything inside tightened more and greedily accepted her. Her palm was now making loud wet slaps, each thrust was accompanied by a quiet moan, and sometimes short screams. Her eyelids trembled, her mouth opened wider, and her voice broke through in stifled sounds of restrained desires. Her pelvis rhythmically moved toward her own hand, as if she dreamed that it was no longer fingers, but something much thicker, longer, and hotter… And connected to Chris' crouch.

Kyoka continued caressing her pussy – confidently and rhythmically, not breaking her gaze from her sexy guy. Her fingers either slid along the edge of her labia or pressed inside, gathering the thick, glistening mucus. Each circular pass over her clit caused pulsations and contractions in her body, but Kyoka didn't lose control – only biting her lip a bit more often and breathing through her mouth, occasionally letting out stifled moans.

With every second, she felt something improving inside her: her clit swelled and grew, becoming a bit longer and thicker. Her breasts became denser and heavier, softly spilling out of the bra cups, hugged by the now not form-fitting but constricting crop top. Her waist narrowed a bit, her hips rounded – her body movements began feeling smoother, more powerful, resilient. The shorts sat lower and tighter, digging into skin and flesh, the underwear fabric stretched like on a mannequin. Against all this, her skin became more sensitive, but not painfully so – only a pleasant vibration, like a light tingling at the points of contact.

Chris watched her greedily, his gaze warm and admiring, but also barely restrained and saturated with suppressed lust. It turned her on how he devoured her with his eyes. It turned her on that she knew – he wanted her just like this, dirty, vulgar, unsatisfied...

«I want him to FUCK me right he-e-ere~… SLAM me down on this cold-ass floor an' POUND me till I'll be broke-en~! ...Wanna tongue his balls… I want him to roughly GROPE me and dirtily call me his moanin' gothy-slutty-GF~…» — these desires weren't whispered by someone from outside. She whispered them to herself. And with each thought, the hand between her legs moved faster and more actively.

Kyoka's fingers were moving so fast and precisely that her body trembled from each slam into her pleasing hole, as if striving to finish with a fantastic orgasm as quickly as possible. Stomach muscles twitched, lips formed an ecstatic anaware *"O"*,* breathing became ragged, and breasts swelled naughty under the top, ready to burst from the tight fabric at any second. A few deep, wet presses and a wave of bliss surged upward, from the roots of her thighs to her chest.* She almost reached the peak. One more movement – and squirt would strike her, but...**

«But… no…».

Through the heat, trembling, moans, and shaking, Kyoka caught herself in the moment and stopped hand, leaving the orgasm smoldering inside, like an unquenchable coal under her skin. She exhaled heavily, as if after a long run, and slowly pulled her trembling hand out of her panties – sticky, glistening, covered in her own juices. Her fingers were shaking violently. She lifted them to her lips and, without breaking eye contact with Chris, slowly licked each finger, tasting sweet transparent juice of her pussy. Then she began sucking them one by one – with an indecent, piercingly wet sound, in which there was almost animal pleasure.

«Yummy-y~... A lil' salty and pretty sweet~…», she thought about the taste of herself.

Kyoka slowly licked the last finger, drawn out and with a loud, deliberately vulgar smack, then smirked and threw Chris a dense, brazen gaze from under her heavy lashes. Her voice sounded like lazy but venomously sweet provoking:

— Watcha you lookin' at, Chrissy~?... Wanted to do it yourself~?

He held her gaze and replied with a light, horny half-smile:

— Maybe… You are drinkin' delicious and sweet "peach" juice and don't share it with me-e~... I'm gonna cry 'bout this~. — he said with feigned offense.

A satisfied grin flashed on Kyoka's lips. She stepped closer to him, her shorts still hanging unbuttoned and loose at the hips. But as she moved, a sudden, intense heat bloomed deep in her core, a throbbing pulse that started as a subtle tingle and quickly escalated into an unstoppable swell. Her pussy lips began to plump up, bloating thicker and fuller with each rapid heartbeat, the sensitive flesh inflating obscenely like ripe peach under pressure, pushing against the confines of her panties with a vulgar insistence that made her softly gasp. The entire clitoris swelled and lengthened, both internally and externally, gradually increasing in sensitivity. The elongated, hidden clitoral crura began to gradually extend into the anus and move closer to the surface.

The slit between the shorts' panels revealed an even more explicit view: black panties with delicate lace edging on the sides, clinging desperately to her hips, behind which the wet fabric stretched impossibly tight – smooth dark silk, so thin and sheer that the exaggerated outlines of her swollen, engorged pussy lips showed through in lewd, unapologetic detail, the folds visibly parting wider, quivering and slick. The transformation didn't stop at swelling; her cunt grew juicier by the second, flooding with hot, viscous arousal that soaked the material beyond measure – not just damp, but utterly drenched, the silk turning translucent as fresh waves of slickness oozed from her depths, drenching everything with a shine. She could feel it happening, but she ignored it, that delicious ache of expansion, her clit hardening and peeking out from under its hood, throbbing in rhythm with the bloating lips, while the growing stain spread wider and darker across the fabric. Its vertically elongated shape now boldly pronounced and impossible to ignore, tracing the full, vertical gape of her throbbing, sopping wet cunt. The wetness began trickling down her inner thighs in thin, warm rivulets that left her legs trembling slightly with the raw, overwhelming sensitivity.

Kyoka bit her lip, a mix of shock and thrill coursing through her as the changes settled in, making her feel heavier down there, more exposed and wanton.

— Wait... I may be wrong but... Did you just hint at the shape of my pussy? — She tilted her head, a sly grin creeping across her flushed face, eyes sparkling with playful accusation. — What a fa-ast bo-o-oy~... And when did you manage to see everything there?

— Heh-heh... First off: I'm only this fast when it comes to fun stuff like this~. Second: back, when you were aggressively inhaling my scent, you were grinding those swollen, puffy lips right against my leg. So, I didn't exactly see it all… but I sure as hell felt every juicy detail~…

— ...Naughty bo-o-oy~. — Kyoka purred, her voice stretching the words like a teasing caress, her ear jacks twitching with barely contained excitement.

— Pervy gi-i-irl~. — He shot back with a wicked smirk, his gaze dropping to her heavied chest, heat building in the air between them.

— Oi! I'm not a pervert… — She protested with a huff, crossing her arms under her chest, which only accentuated her newly enhanced curves. — ... Atleast less then you... — Her voice trailed off into a sly murmur, a smirk tugging at her lips as she uncrossed her arms, letting her body sway toward him.

— *... Aha...* Then who was fapping infront of me seconds ago~? Fap-ghost?** — Chris arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with mock innocence.

— ... 'Key-'key. Ma-a-aybe I AM a "little bit" pervert... — Kyoka admitted with a breathy laugh, the confession sending a fresh wave of heat pooling between her legs as her body shifted closer to Chris. — But, hey! Who's out there without a few dirty sins tucked away in their past, right~?

Chris caught a sweet, quite distinctive and soft smell when she came right up close. It wasn't close to sweat, perfume, or body density... It was something raw, wild, intimate, and maddeningly hungry smell. It smelled like sex in its purest form – not metaphorically, but literally: hot pussy, heated flesh, natural lube, aroused skin, salt, and body. He felt everything in his stomach suddenly sink downward, and his cock squeezed the belt tighter than before. He gently hugged Kyoka around the waist, still sitting on the sofa, and grabbed his right wrist with left hand as she stopped in front of him. Then he stayed in place. And watched the show with deep interest.

Kyoka, without breaking eye contact, demonstratively slowly lowered her hand down, slipping it under the fabric, first under the shorts, then under the panties. Her fingers instantly plunged into the wet slit between thick and squishy pair of flesh. Her thighs tensed and her stomach tightened, which was quite noticeable. The fresh air fanned the smoldering embers of orgasm, reigniting the abnormal, slowly fading feeling of pleasure. She exhaled quietly, jerked her body, closed her eyes – rolled them back – and parted her mouth, as if a fraction of orgasm pierced her for a second when a small stream of a mix of female cum and squirt suddenly sprayed onto her hand, like from an automatic dispenser. A few lazy, circular movements – and her hand slipped out: two fingers thickly coated in the gloss of semi-transparent vaginal juice, droplets, stretching viscous stickiness.

Kyoka was glad that Chris had asked for it himself; asking him herself would have seemed weird, too much. Even in their situation. This way, she got the chance to share a piece of herself with her beloved, knowing the favor wouldn't remain one-sided for long...

She raised her fingers to Chris' face, confident and deliberate, and slipped them slowly into his mouth. Chris didn't pull away. He sealed his lips around the slick digits, drew them deeper, and began working his tongue with patient, hungry strokes, savoring every second. He caught the taste, absorbed her scent, let the soft, warm notes of her hot pussy spread across his palate, flow over his tongue, and go deeper into his throat. The taste was rich, slightly salty, thick, with a very perceptible soft sweetness – viscous and arousing him.

«Delicious…», was his only thought.

Kyoka pressed her two glistening fingers a little more insistently, more languidly against his hot tongue, slowly dragging them along the full length with torturous precision, leaving thick, stretchy-transparent trails of her slick in their wake. She traced slow circles around the tips, smearing every last drop, as if she wanted him to memorize her taste forever. His hands naturally found themselves on her muscular, soft hips.

Chris greedily pulled her fingers deeper, sealing his lips tight around them, and started sucking: his tongue slid along the underside of her digits, insistently lapping at the soft pads, diving between them, licking every tiny crease at the base of her knuckles, chasing the final beads of her juices like it was the sweetest, most forbidden nectar on earth. He gathered every drop, swallowing quietly, deeply, with a low, animal growl that shot straight through her swollen clit like an electric jolt.

At that sound her pussy clenched hard, her womb aching and throbbing sweetly inside, forcing another hot, invisible trickle into her already soaked panties. The fabric is clinging to her lips, slightly outlining a juicy cameltoe on the shorts. Kyoka barely held back a moan: every swallow he took echoed inside her as a fresh surge of wetness, as if he were fucking her with nothing but his tongue** through her fingers.**

Chris' body began to change, triggered by the exchange of bodily fluids. His forms, somewhere between two breaths, started restructuring. Shoulders widened just enough to make her mouth water, chest hardened into sleek, defined slabs, arms carved into lean, wiry muscle that flexed with every breath. His legs stretched taller, calves and thighs packing on hard, sculpted mass without turning bulky.

Abs snapped in like someone yanked a cord, ridges popping sharp under his shirt, begging to be licked. His spine straightened, hips rolled forward, every move suddenly dripping raw, animalistic power.

Then came the part that made Kyoka's thighs clench on pure instinct. His cock surged thicker, longer, pushing nine fat inches down the inside of his thigh, the swollen head shoving against the fabric so hard the outline looked too obscene. A single, heavy vein traced the length, pulsing visibly. Below, his balls had grown heavier, fuller, hanging low and packed, swaying with each shift of his hips like they were already loaded and impatient.

The entire fitting room was drenched in Chris. His scent rolled through the air in thick, warm waves: sharp musk laced with fresh sweat, tangled with something raw and animal, like a stud still radiating heat after pounding someone senseless. Underneath it all lurked a sweet, almost honeyed trace of his skin and the faint, sugary salt of cum that somehow leaked beyond his body and soaked the room.

It hit her brain like a powerful ****-aphrodisiac.

Kyoka dragged in a deep, greedy breath and the world blinked out. Her head spun, a soft ring hummed in her ears, and between her thighs an aching, gnawing emptiness exploded into frantic itch. When reality snapped back, only one thought remained, blazing neon-bright and screaming louder than everything else: she HAD to slam herself down on that thick, fragrant cock until his heavy balls pressed against her ass, feel it stretch her trembling, dripping cunt to its absolute limit and flood every hole until she was **** on pleasure and cum down her throat.

Kyoka stood so close she could feel the heat pouring off him, her breath catching in ragged little hitches, heart slamming against her ribs like it wanted out. A molten ache bloomed low in her belly, slick flooding her thighs so fast her knees almost gave. Her lips parted on a silent gasp, eyes dragging helplessly over his chest, his arms, the sharp cut of his abs, that obscene bulge, and finally his face, where every line now felt carved straight into her womb, branding her empty and ****.

Her fingers curled without permission, pressing harder against his mouth, feeding him the last of her taste. A soft, calm moan slipped out before she could trap it, low and needy, vibrating in the tiny space between them.

To anyone else it would’ve looked like two filthy perverts playing a game. To her it felt like a vow. Chris wasn’t "just hot" anymore; he was devastating, raw power wrapped in lean muscle, radiating a hunger that matched hers perfectly. And none of it surprised her. Deep down she’d always known this was who he was: her Chris, hard, gorgeous and ravenous, the only one who could ever ruin her exactly the way she craved.

Right then, with his tongue still chasing her slick from her fingertips and his eyes locked on hers, he was flawless.

«Go-o-osh~… what a sex-man he is… I'd gift-wrap my slutty ass for him. Wrapped up in ribbons. Definitely in shibari style. And waitin' for him on his bed~… shit, just imagine him walkin' in and losin' his mind~…». — she thought, while her lips slid into a soft, horny-loving smile. This scene no longer seemed like a teasing game to her. Now everything in her burned with the desire to be with him not just for sex, of which there would obviously be a sea. But also for the feeling of completeness and closeness.

Kyoka slowly pulled her slobbery fingers from Chris' mouth, leaving a thin thread between the pad of her middle finger and his lip. Her gaze slid over his face, like over something delicious and very personal – approvingly, with a light smirk. She bit her lip, feeling anticipation. Silently, without explanations, she lowered the same hand down, under the edge of the shortened crop top, slipping it between her increasingly heavy breasts, as if checking how much heavier they had become and how sharpened their sensitivity was, but actually just continuing the striptease, moving away from the "short" interruption in her show.

Her fingers immediately sank into the hot cleavage. Even a light touch caused a shiver: the skin in that area seemed to ignite with fire, saying that her entire chest had become one big erogenous zone. Every movement caused waves of goosebumps and strange inner feeling of some kind vibration. She ran her palm between her firm, spherically elongated forms, squeezing them slightly from below, and exhaled heavily – arousal burst out from every part of her body, and her new sensitivity clearly let her know: her tits had become not just one of the main ornaments, but a separate organ of pleasure, which it wouldn't be a sin to use further.

She sharply raised her hands and began yanking off the crop top – it caught on the bra, strained on her wide DD-cup breasts, bordering on E. The material gave way with difficulty: stretching, getting stuck, creating extra pressure on her nipples. Kyoka, wincing from a light electric shock, yanked upward – and in the moment of the pull, the top slipped off, revealing her firm breasts with a muffled fabric pop. The freed tits in the bra trembled and bounced, as if in a relieved sigh. Wet, warm, dense, they heavily settled, slightly springing, and immediately fell under Chris' full focus.

Kyoka slowly squeezed her breasts with both hands, feeling the weight of the massive forms seemingly "melting" under her palms. Her fingers began gently kneading and rolling her long-swollen nipples through the thin bra fabric, causing waves of continuous, building pleasure in her body. Each time her thumbs touched the protruding and hot nipples, she involuntarily let out a short, wet moan.

She knew Chris was watching, and that added a special spice to what was happening – the feeling of being observed, of being desired by him, ignited an inner fire, spreading through her whole body. The bra under her fingers was becoming thinner – the fabric seemed to melt under the heat of her aroused body, exposing the clear outlines of her large elongated nipples and plump, convex areolas in a tender pink-coral shade. The semi-transparent fabric shimmered, allowing a glimpse of what was usually hidden – and Kyoka savored this intimate secret with pleasure, which belonged only to her and Chris.

Her fingers didn't stop, tirelessly moving over her breasts: squeezing, kneading, caressing with even more tenderness, as being afraid to miss even a drop of sensation. Each new touch echoed in her lower body with a pleasant pulsating heat that filled her from within, and with each breath, she became more uninhibited. Her head buzzed with thrill from allowing herself to be like this in front of him – herself, open and sexual, bold and greedy.

Meanwhile, her panties, obeying the same heat, already tightly hugged her crotch, the silk fabric seemingly dissolving on her skin, firmly holding the moisture, but neither of them paid attention to it – their world was now focused only on her breasts, on each breath, each touch, each moan that Kyoka allowed herself to make more and more often and louder, sinking deeper into a sweet lustful state.

She lingered in that silence for another moment, savoring "the aftertaste", then slowly straightened up. A predatory smirk slid across her face, and her fingers, leaving her breasts, lazily trailed down the line of her stomach, gathering its residual warmth along the way. Her hips swayed slightly – barely noticeably, but enough for a new, more loose rhythm to flash in the movement.

Kyoka turned toward the fitting room, moving slowly, savoring every step. The itch in her pussy made her sway her hips "a bit" more widely than necessary, and that heavy, viscous rhythm openly echoed the pulsation of Chris' dick. She entered the booth unhurriedly, playful and teasing, and came right up to the large mirror opposite the couches where Chris was seated. On the floor lay her jacket carelessly – a small pile of leather and metal, transformed into such, previously denim, tossed there at the start of the striptease.

The dense denim fabric is stretched over her full, swollen with fat buttocks so tightly that half of their soft roundness protrudes from under the fabric, luring gazes. With each side-to-side movement the plush thighs sway appetizingly and the shorts cut even deeper into the tender flesh and skin, deliberately emphasizing her forms. Kyoka's hands leave marks on the mirror.

They're not the first, if you look a little lower: matte, dried stains are visible-dried sperm, squirt, and something else, left by one of the previous clients, who apparently decided to do something similar to what Chris and Kyoka are doing now.

She wasn't in any hurry to get out of that pose. Her sways become slower and more accentuated; ass works actively and precisely – bouncing, smoothly goes aside, lingers for half a second before returning and repeating. Chris continues to watch as the fabric of the shorts shortens thread by thread, covering less and less of her magnificent butt and becoming more flexible and form-fitting.

Then Kyoka slowly rises, lifting her elbows off the reflective surface. Her back remains arched in a tempting curve, her chest pressing and flowing against her toned torso, swaying gently back and forth. Her freed hands glide over her own skin – from her chest down along her waist, tracing the smooth line to her lower back. With a lustful loud "SMACK", they seize her firm, pliant buttocks – greedily squeezing them one moment, then softly pulling them apart, revealing a deep, shadowed cleft between. She kneads and caresses them, her palms testing their springiness and perfect fullness. Her fingers slip into the back pockets, stretching the already tight shorts even more, teasing the flesh beneath it. As if drawn by instinct, her hands begin to move in slow, circular motions, making her ass roll and sway, forming vague, symmetrical patterns before sliding up again to the upper edge of her shorts.

Her fingers hook the edges and start slowly pulling down.

The top slides off the lower back, exposing more smooth, heated, pale-peach skin. She strokes the side lines of the pelvis, sometimes returning to buttocks, running palms over them, slightly squeezing, preparing them for liberation and further "games".

But the shorts stubbornly hold – even unbuttoned, they tightly sit on her meaty ass and firm thighs. Kyoka bites her lower lip, changing rhythm: starts lightly bouncing and shaking, pulling fabric down in time with these movements. Each her jump makes the meat sexually tremble and bounce.

The fabric's resistance weakens with every shake and jump, threatening to slip from her flawless skin. A few more of those springy movements and the denim finally gives in.

The shorts slide down in one smooth, fluid motion, gliding over the curves of her ass and releasing the soft, rounded flesh beneath. Her skin quivers, the muscles underneath flexing and pulsing with freedom, her buttocks lightly bouncing with each movement as the fabric passes her thighs. The rounded shapes settle, spreading and regaining their natural fullness – as if the body itself breathes out in relief, returning to its true, unrestrained form.

Kyoka stood before the mirror and turned just enough to catch her heart-shaped ass in the side reflection, two fat, flawless peaches glowing under the bright lights, rounder and heavier than physics had any right to allow. The shorts, bunched uselessly halfway down her thick thighs, the elastic biting softly into plush skin and making every tiny shift send electric ripples straight to her clit. Goosebumps raced across her cheeks and down the backs of her legs like someone had dragged an ice cube over burning silk.

She straightened, squaring shoulders, allowing her body to take natural, provoking pose. Her buttocks, freed from tilt pressure, became visually even fuller, their mass rounded, gaining sharp, luring for slaps and touches outlines. Kyoka felt her own body respond to this sight: pulse quickened, and inside belly stronger spread warm, viscous arousal.

«Damn gosh~… That ass needs claimin'. If I were Chris right now, I'd grind in and expand that naughty hole till it knows nothin' but my shape~», her lips curved in daring, predatory smile full of self-satisfaction.

Kyoka began to slowly sway her hips. The movement was unnecessary, even somewhat illogical – it would've been far easier to just simply pull them down with hand. But she wanted every motion to be smooth and deliberately teasing, so Chris would understand without words that she, just like him, was savoring every second of this show.

Her shorts, unable to withstand the slow ripple of her movements, slipped down her thighs, then her calves, and pooled on the floor with a soft rustle. Kyoka felt her skin being freed, the air brushing against her body. That sensation of liberation only heightened her euphoria. She stepped over the fabric with light grace, then with a slight disdain kicked the shorts toward the crumpled jacket in the corner of the fitting room wall.

Now completely rid of them, Kyoka slowly turned to face Chris, doing it in such a way that her breasts and hips moved out of sync, each in its own rhythm. Her body was clad only in thin, semi-transparent lace lingerie that barely clung to her. The fabric was treacherously small – the straps dug into her shoulders, the cups barely covered her voluminous breasts that strained to escape their lacy prison, and the panties were pulled so tight that the narrow strip constantly threatened to slip inside, revealing far more than intended. On her feet – simple black socks, ordinary and unremarkable.

Kyoka took a step back. Her movements were precise, as if she were performing a long-rehearsed dance rather than an improvisational striptease. She stopped in the center of the fitting room, letting the lamps above the mirror softly outline her figure. Her breasts, still slightly swaying from the motion, and the now fully exposed curves of her hips drew Chris' gaze like a magnet. She knew he wouldn't look away for a second, and that knowledge filled her soul with warmth, making her womb shudder more actively.

She arched, smoothly throwing head back, so bangs fell back, exposing her face. Chin lifted with slight tilt aside. Her movements simultaneously daring and yielding. Then she rose on tiptoes, stretching body into string, throwing both arms behind head, clasping them palms to opposite elbows, baring smooth armpit curves. This pose emphasized each curve: thin but strong neck, bouncy big boobs, barely held by thin lace lingerie, pumped arm muscles, narrowness of waist with defined abs, roundness of soft and firm hips and long, trained legs. Kyoka felt her skin tremble from coolness blown by conditioner, and arousal blown by act of exhibitionism.

Her mind was sinking deeper into the whirlpool of lust that kept multiplying inside her, feeding off every new metamorphosis.

«Look at ME, Chrissy~... Only at me-e-e~... Ye-e-es~... keep those filthy eyes glued to your naughty, always-horny goth-punk GF~...», her lips curling into a bright, impudent smirk that dripped with pleasure.

At that moment, a black choker appeared around her neck. A thin strip of velvety fabric hugged her throat tightly, and in the center glistened a small metal ring, trembling slightly with every movement. It wasn't just a decoration; it was a reflection of Jiro's secret desires, an eloquent hint for Chris – a silent signal of the submission she was ready to accept if he could "tame" her..

Kyoka's uneven pulse skipped when she noticed Chris' gaze fixed on the new detail. Her fingers slid to her neck, following his stare, and brushed the ring. She tugged it lightly, her throat arching forward, offering the sight deliberately.

— Only noticed it, and already thinkin' of clippin' a leash on, huh~? Dirty, handsome, horny pervert~... Ha-ha-ha! — Kyoka laughed, her voice thick with playfulness and arousal, projecting her fantasy straight onto him. — So-o wanna see me on my knees, ye-es~? Want me to take your gaze as an order to open my mouth for your big, tasty, juicy, luscious COCKY-COCK, huh~?! Am I right, Chrissy-ku-u-un~?! — she teased, dragging out each word, her hips swaying, rubbing against each other, spreading her wetness even more.

Just one hint of interest from Chris and her imagination exploded, spiraling down into a raw, shameless fantasy. She saw herself on all fours, Chris behind her, thrusting hard, the leash ribbon wound tight around his hand. She "felt" it – how his movements restrained hers, how the pressure on her neck sent heat through every inch of her skin, how each thrust made her boobies bounce, her booty spread in tempting waves, her back arches into a sexual arc and her voice break into hoarse moans and loud screams.

Chris' gaze lingered on the smooth metal ring at Kyoka's throat, the centerpiece of her entire image. For a heartbeat, the edges of his vision blurred, tinted faintly pink, then snapped back into clarity. The ring caught a shard of light, and something in his mind clicked:

«Ring for a leash…» – the thought surfaced by itself.

Not just an accessory. A tool for rhythm, for control. His fingers twitched slightly against the couch, as if they could already feel the phantom texture of a ribbon slipping between them. He saw it – the knot tightening, the leash held firmly in his hand, a sharp tug making Kyoka's smirk falter, then blossom wider with delight. Her knees touching the floor. Her chin lifting under his pull. The ribbon forcing her gaze upward, right on his dick. The imagined strain of the belt, the arch of her neck when he yanked her head back, the choker pulling like a collar on a beautifully obedient pet. Her lips parted, his hips driving forward – the sound, the friction, the shared breath turning into something primal and wild.

— Yeah, babe... You're right~. I can only see you *there – on your knees*, sucking me, and LOVIN' every second of it~… What can I say, I'm a visual learner~? — his voice was low, taunting, the words dripping with heat.

He was aroused, not just by her teasing, but by the dangerous thrill of what her words awakened. Her boldness, her need to toy with him, to play the dominatrix for a heartbeat, all turned inside out the moment he imagined that same wild girl moaning through the tension of a pulled ribbon. That sense of control – the perfect balance between dominance and desire – didn't feel new. It felt remembered. One of many ideas, but all lead to one…

Her clothes – or what remained of it – only emphasized her image. Black lacy lingerie, thin, almost transparent, seemed created to tease and show. Bra, a bit small for her sizes, tightly hugged her chest, making it bulge even stronger, and lace patterns barely covered most sensitive areas. Panties, same thin, sat low on hips, their edges cut into skin, emphasizing soft roundness of her forms. They were clearly not sized – too tight to be comfortable enough, but this tightness made her image even more provocative. Kyoka felt fabric slightly chafing her skin in sensitive places, and this sensation, instead of irritating, added only sharpness to her perception. She knew she looked like her lingerie was on the verge of giving way and exposing her to the world, and that awareness only made her skin burn hotter.

On her legs remained only black thin socks, simple but visually harmonizing with her rest image. They ended just below the ankles, and their modesty only emphasized frankness of rest outfit.

Chris no longer exactly remembered what Kyoka said during the day. That she's disgusted by such overtly-slutty lingerie, or it incredibly arouses her?...

Only thing he remembered perfectly, how he and Kyoka had good time today… And knew for sure that today's night, to which they unspokenly but mutually want to reach, will be promising…

Kyoka, standing on tiptoes, slightly swayed, allowing body to move in uncomplicated rhythm of quiet languid song from speakers. Her hands slowly slid along sides, from waist to hips, wanting to emphasize each curve, each skin area opened to his gaze. She felt simultaneously **** and strong – her body is her weapon, her tool, and she skillfully learned to play it well.

She knew this moment is her triumph, and she intended to stretch it, enjoying every second of male attention.

With smooth, measured dance movement she turned to Chris back. Muscles of shoulders and graceful spine line barely noticeably tensed under smooth skin. Arms rose, elbows spread aside, and hands behind back moved with already habitual, daring confidence. Fingers with nails – painted deep glossy purple-black – groped clasp of bra.

Fingers fiddled tiny hooks, tracking pressure point where taut fabric deepest cut into flesh around her ribs. Bra was prisoner of own design and girl's size – too small for abundance it contained. Thin lace tightly stretched on swellings of her tits, mercilessly digging into tender skin slightly above hard, protruding nipple peaks, noticeably deforming fabric along their contour.

Quiet click sounded in air.

Tension binding bra instantly vanished. Taut lace with loud *"**CLICK"* unhooked from her body, like suddenly snapped overtight spring. Freed from bonds, her heavy, incredibly bouncy breasts dropped forward with tangible weight, slightly swaying from sudden freedom. Warmed by hot skin, bra silently fell to cold floor, gradually transferring its warmth to latter. Sensation of body freedom came to Kyoka instantly: cool air washed heated, sensitive skin, tightly squeezed seconds ago.

Chris' gaze stolen. Limited by breathtaking architecture of her back. He saw elegantly flared shoulders narrow to firm, smooth waist, how back muscles sharply curve and tense in movement. And, most importantly, behind her torso, behind her, he could see wide mass of two big perfect melons. Beyond curve of her ribs, protruding out and forward from silhouette borders of her back, was frankly visible outer bulges of each of two heavy mounds. Skin there looked impossibly soft, taut over volume, begging into palms for appraisal. Lower curve indecently rounded "inward". Her tits, defying gravity weight and hard, craving lip touches tips, now free and open, but invisible to him, and thus so desired for his hungry gaze. Contrast sharp, frank: narrowness of her trained back and waist framed overwhelming, luscious abundance, spreading both sides as two hemispheres.

Kyoka tirelessly watched Chris' gaze over shoulder. She understood even before what effect her actions would have, but feeling on herself his wandering, lustful, appraising and so beloved gaze – meant drowning in indescribable high from herself. She already wanted to lower fingers to panties, but another idea flashed in her head.

Her body, especially near Chris, burned with sensitivity, every cell responded with heat to his presence. So why not use it?

«Tease him and reward myself – two birds with one orgasm~... Or how was that saying?». Her lips curved in uneven, anticipating smirk full of nervous expectation, as if she herself wasn't quite sure in her actions. Maybe doubted that, starting now, she won't stop and their unspoken plan for night will fall apart... Or that it won't cause expected effect on her nervous system. Or something else, that overall not important, since tips of her fingers already touched soft flesh.

Her hands drifted upward, slow and trembling with the fever that licked through her veins, until her palms finally cupped the heavy, impossible softness of her own breasts. She lifted them gently at first, almost reverently, fingers sinking into the warm, yielding flesh that spilled over her hands like liquid silk. For one breathless second she just stared down at herself, the sheer size, the swollen weight pulsing against her palms, the way they changed shape when she pressed them together, and a shaky little: «M-m-m~…», slipped out before she could stop it.

Then greed took over.

Her nails dug deeper, shamelessly tearing, twisting, and squeezing, as if she were trying to milk herself. Even if she had no milk. Each ruthless pinch sent molten sparks racing straight to her clit; her nipples, hard as diamonds and slick with sweat, scraped across her palms and fired lightning bolts that made her thighs clench and her breath hitch. She lifted them higher, let them drop with a soft, heavy bounce that echoed in the tiny booth, and a long, broken moan tore from her throat, sweet, helpless and filthy all at once.

Being naked for him, teasing without surrender, lit her up like a cathedral on fire. Her skin glowed under the lamps, every breath making those massive tits tremble, every heartbeat making them pulse. She pressed her arms together, cleavage deepening into a dark, hungry valley, and another raw: «Fu-u-uck~…», slipped out, unplanned, shameless, delicious.

Fresh fantasies kept blooming behind her eyes, vivid and vicious: Chris pinning her against the cold mirror, stuffing her dripping cunt with whatever he could grab while she screamed loud enough for the whole mall to hear; the two of them fucking on every rooftop in Musutafu until the city lights blurred and her voice gave out. She could almost feel the stretch, the burn, the obscene, perfect mess of sweat, cum and breathless laughter.

The air cooler blasted another icy "kiss" across her overheated skin, making her nipples twitch and her pussy clench so hard she nearly came from the contrast alone. It seemed that the vent was aimed on her, teasing every nerve until her own fingertips felt like sparks on wet silk.

Kyoka drew a slow, shaky breath, chest rising high, and when she exhaled a thin ribbon of steam curled into the cool air. She rolled her head over one shoulder, locking eyes with Chris, and the fantasy slammed home: her fat boobies smothering his face while she rode him reverse-cowgirl, ass bouncing so hard the mirror rattled, grinding down until his cock kissed her cervix and she painted his thighs with squirt.

She needed more. Needed him inside her yesterday. Chris looked ready to snap, cock straining against his jeans like it was about to rip the zipper open, so her hands kept drifting lower, lazy and deliberate, tracing the sharp lines of her hips until her fingertips brushed the flimsy ribbons of those pathetic lace panties.

«Classic spin, sway, bend, flash and drop…? That's all?!», she thought, lips curling into a slow, wicked grin. «Ble-e-eh… Too mundane, long and not too sexy for this moment…».

Her eyes flashed with pure mischief. She wanted vulgar. She wanted dramatic. She wanted him to lose the last thread of control and fuck her until the booth smelled like sex for a few weeks.

And Kyoka always got exactly what she craved. ALWAYS.

When her fingers on panties felt soaked, sticky fabric, desperately stuck to "lower pair" of lips, somewhere deep inside flashed spark – hot and demanding. And as if in response to her desire for easier baring, air at panties edges invisibly rippled. There, where before only standard elastic for panties dug into skin, already were tender silk ties on ribbons, smoothly woven into lace right on hips. They appeared from old elastics, tearing them so they intertwined and tied into neat knots, now tenderly framing hips.

— Jesus, Kyo… you planned this down to the goddamn bows? What are you, a walking birthday present? — Chris laughed low, the sound rough, edged with heat. — Those look like they were made to fall off the second someone just thinks about touching them.

Kyoka's smile widened, like a child enjoying a surprise. The "surprise", naturally, was for the one who would see these panties, not for her. She really worked hard to find just the right ones. The ones that would look perfect on her hips and show off her body in the best possible way.

— Ye-e-es~… Hi-hi-hi~. Better to wear somethin' easy to take off, ri-ight~? Especially when you KNOW somethin' naughty and dirty is coming soon~…

Her painted fingers, moving with deliberate slowness, simultaneously hooked the ribbon loops on both sides. With a soft, measured motion, the black bows unraveled. The knots loosened, the silk threads slipped out, and the ribbons fell limp downward.

The tension on the sides vanished, but surprisingly, the panties didn't fall. Her wet crotch, soaked with her arousal – some places fresh and slippery with juices, others quite sticky where they started drying – clung to the fabric with indecent tenacity, like a second skin, unwilling to let go.

Kyoka understood the "problem" of her position. So, with a small smile, she grabbed the edges of the ribbons. Biting her lip, she began pulling those at the back, since all the main "sticky mass" was in front. Slowly pulling them down and looking at Chris, who had quickly perked up, deciding that THIS stage of the show he'd watch with wide eyes, she lowered her fingers further. The fabric and ribbons wedged between her juicy buns carefully emerged from the shadow between her buttocks. With a small final effort, her panties now held on only by the "result of arousal" of the "almost-nymphomaniac girl".

Kyoka bit her lip juicily as her languid gaze appraised the face of Chris rejoicing in the show's climax. She stopped her hands so he shifted his attention to her face, not her shadowed anus. Kyoka's face expressed absolute satisfaction and pride in herself, bolstered by male's admiring gazes. Just one last step remained before her body would appear before Chris in "all its glory".

The lace sat tightly, soaked with her juices and as if digging into her flesh. Her hands began moving down: every thread of fabric peeled from her body echoed with varying, tickling, bright ecstasy. In some places, the fabric peeled gently, in others it pinched at the dried edges of the stain, like someone playfully pinching the edges of her labia, teasing sensitive spots. From this tension, Kyoka exhaled hoarsely, turning into a deep but quiet throaty moan on the way out. The lower Kyoka pulled the panties, the more pleasurable it was for her and the more indecent it sounded for him.

The slick, sticky and vulgar sound of someone gently peeling stuck panties from their pussy incredibly turned Chris on. Even more arousing was the impending chance to see Kyoka in her "natural", wild form. To see her pussy drowning in its own juice and her hands reaching for him to embrace, to take him into a new session of kisses from their shared passion and lust – that's what he started all this for. That's what he slaved over for months to get into UA.

Everything was coming together right now and right in front of him.

When the thin lace peeled halfway down, Kyoka's ass clenched hard, involuntary and greedy, as a stubborn patch suddenly ripped free. A sharp, high-pitched moan tore from her throat; her head snapped back, eyes squeezing shut in bliss. That tiny strip was all it took. A full-body shiver slammed through her, carving razor-sharp dimples into her firm cheeks, and a hot, glistening squirt shot straight from her pulsing pussy, splattering the freed space and then the floor. She slowed for a couple seconds, savoring the fleeting sensation of the passed mini-orgasm.

And finally, with a drawn-out, wet, arousing sound, the lace fully detached from her visibly pulsing pussy. It was a thick, sticky sound, too vulgar not to drive both into even greater heat. Between the fabric and her pussy stretched one thick, glistening thread of lube – transparent, viscous, and clear. It stretched in the air to the limit before finally snapping, leaving the gaping pussy to drown in its own fluids. The air pleasantly enveloped her exposed pussy, cool and arousing on her body's wet heat, making her stomach muscles involuntarily contract.

— Damn… you actually came *just from peeling off those soaked panties?* Holy hell, does stripping in front of me turn you on SO BAD** you're already squirting~?

Kyoka cracked one eye open, tongue sliding slow across her bottom lip, grin widening even more:

— Mhm~… oh fuck, Chrissy… that lil' squirt was just a naughty teaser sip~… And that was still without your thick cock buried deep. Just imagine "the fountain" when you finally slide in, baby~… N-n-nh~…

The sound of the wet panties falling to the floor vanished in the space between them.

Kyoka was finally naked.

Her old, "rudimentary" reflex took over – her hands quickly rose, one covering the soft spheres of her breasts, the other protectively squeezing the slippery, glistening spot between her thighs. A flash of vulnerability crossed her face, showing her slight embarrassment with the situation. After all, despite her rich sex life in the "past", she was completely naked in front of a male for the first time.

Kyoka carefully shifted her weight to one leg, tensing her muscles, ready to turn and step toward Chris to finally get to what they'd been putting off for so long-

But she immediately froze in place.

Her head tilted slightly in mild confusion at herself:

«Am I... REALLY just gonna spin around and shove my pride down like... some damn nervous lil' virgin bicth…?». — It flashed through her head.

Her brain met dissonance: here she was, so bold and stubborn, preparing for a couple-three hours to fuck the hunk next to her at least ten times, and here she was shrinking and covering her charms in shame before that same guy.

«No way in hell… No, no, NO! I'M the one WHO TEASES. I'M the one WHO OWNS THE ROOM – so why the FUCK am I blushin'?!?! …Hua-a-ah… Wait a sec… I just got the perfect way to end this show with a big last firework that'll melt his brain~…», — she didn't have time to get properly confused before her new "lustful side" immediately returned control to her.

With deliberate, almost dramatic slowness, she lowered her hands. They moved down her body, fingertips gliding over her stomach then hips, before finally hanging freely at her sides. Kyoka fully relaxed, defiant, naked, and stunning. Her back straightened. She had already planned her final move in this drawn-out game, deciding to finally put that damn "checkmate". Shoulders squared. Vulnerability and modesty completely evaporated from her being, replaced by powerful, defiant self-confidence and huge, inexhaustible lust. She proudly lifted her chin, a wide, anticipatory smile on her face.

After a couple breaths, her quirk showed signs of existence – the usually motionless jacks from her earlobes came alive. They began sliding down with intricate, silent grace. Flexible, long, and strong. Both made symmetrical movements over young naked body, twisting and descending lower. First, they wrapped around her neck, crossing further on her breasts and going to the sides – on her ribs, twisting around her torso at the level of her nipples and areolas. Further, the jacks went over her pumped up tummy, forming a "diamond-shaped" pattern emphasizing her abs' musculature and supporting her heavy boobs from below.

Sliding lower and pressing tighter to her skin, the jacks reached her pelvis, where with a few more twists they made something like thin thong straps from four diagonal and symmetrical ties. At the end of which they tightly encircled the upper part of her thighs in a circle, beautifully diverging and converging already on her buttocks. The end of the rope art masterpiece was marked by both jacks simultaneously rising up her back, twisting and intertwining in an intricate web pattern.

Finishing weaving the erotic knots, the jacks flipped over her shoulders and fastened somewhere near the "temporary bra", securing it so it wouldn't slip from the spherical forms. In mere seconds, a complex "organic" shibari harness materialized on Jiro's torso, created literally from her own flesh. It was captivatingly indecent:

Each nipple was almost fully hidden behind knots, from which protruded only a small part of her aroused, heavily swollen and enlarged areolas. The cords tightly gripped each breast, lifting and framing it, leaving it in a raised, proud position. They weren't hidden; they were on display and emphasized by Kyoka's sudden talent for depraved self-bondage techniques.

Between her legs, wires formed a tight structure, blocking outside views but allowing moisture from inside. They pressed firmly against her labia, slightly smoothing the plump, slippery folds, but deliberately leaving the very bottom inch of her slit – the swollen entrance and glistening extremely sensitive protrusion of darker pink flesh under the hood – slightly open in a gap.

The transformation was thorough: like a living statue of the goddess of lust, bound but not limited by her own power and desires. Kyoka gently ran her fingers over the intricate knot where the cords crossed just below her navel, then she gracefully turned to Chris, who was looking at her in slight stunned silence.

Slowly, with the measured, smooth grace of an experienced striper, she headed toward him. Each step was calculated for seduction: her hips swayed in an exaggerated, mesmerizing rhythm, her breasts appetizingly bouncing with them. Her back lightly arched, emphasizing the curve of her powerful spine holding nearly five pounds of breasts. The shape of her buttocks, the curve of her hips – every movement was meant to showcase the body art she had and the treasures it so openly framed. The cool air touched her wet skin on the inner thighs and the slippery, open lower part of her slit, causing visible goosebumps on her skin as she closed the distance like a sex-crazed queen approaching her throne crowned by a massive upright dildo, ready to jump on it any second...

The black choker tightly encircled her neck, and the only thing still covering her from full nudity was the thick cords of her own quirk, barely restraining her firm forms. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and her eyes, half-lidded by heavy long lashes, burned with such greedy fire that it took his breath away. Her sweat-slick breasts pressed flush against his chest, leaving some dark, wet imprints on his shirt. Her hips ground into his crotch with such raw, **** hunger that he could practically feel the ache radiating from her, making his cock twitch hard in response, straining against the tight denim, dying to punch through and bury itself deep in that hot, dripping, starving sensetive "cave".

— Whoa, Kyo~… I didn't know your jacks could tie like tha-… — Chris didn't even have time to blink before Kyoka pressed her whole body against him – her heated, almost burning flesh instantly warmed his skin through the t-shirt fabric as she interrupted him with her lips, plunging into them with such passion that he almost lost his balance trying to get up.

— M-m-mh~… Shut up already, sugar… Just wrap those arms 'round me tight~… — she breathed between deep, wet kisses, voice quivering with raw need, hips already grinding slow circles against him. — And now… kiss me like ya miss me~…

— Well, come 'ere, beauty~...

Her hands slid lower – one palm gently but dominantly cupped his balls, squeezing them with experienced confidence, the other dug into his ass, her fingers pressing into the tensed flesh, hinting that she'd dictate the rules, even despite her desire to be led.

Chris didn't flinch this time. He'd started getting used to Kyoka's wild switches – one second she's only teasing smiles, the next she's shamelessly grabbing whatever she wants – usually him – turning the air thick with raw lust. A soft huff escaped him, half-laugh, half-groan, as he let his body sink into hers without hesitation. His hands found her buttocks on their own – now even fuller, even firmer, literally bulging from under his fingers, like big balloons filled with something thick and warm, ready to burst from the slightest pressure. He squeezed them, feeling her body shudder in response to the pressure, her thighs involuntarily pressing against him harder, as if already imagining him entering her.

Chris felt with his tongue and lips how the metal bar in Kyoka's tongue moved and rolled in her mouth along with his. Their kisses became deeper, wetter, their tongues intertwining in a greedy "dance", while their hands explored each other. His fingers tenderly squeezed and groped her rounded, soft buttocks, sometimes sliding a bit lower to her thighs, kneading them too. His palms eagerly touched the tender flesh, which sometimes toughened from tensed muscles for a second when Chris hit particularly sensitive parts.

Chris wanted more, wanted to finally wrap up this scene to move, to the main meal. So he decided to take a more active role.

His hands groping Kyoka's gorgeous ass first started more often dipping a bit lower to the bottom of her buttocks, lifting and feeling them from there. Then one of his hands began slowly and in jerks, between new gropes, squeezing around her thigh to start "slipping" to the inner wet and sticky areas. His palm smeared slippery drops of warm, sweet lube over Kyoka's skin as his fingers gradually rose toward Kyoka's crotch, which she immediately stopped:

— Mwah~… — Kyoka sharply pulled away, grabbing his wrist with her hand slightly trembling from arousal. Devils danced in her eyes, screaming for immediate SEX with him, and her lips twisted in a teasing smile. — Where are you sneakin' off to, pal~?

— Oh, just thinking, — his voice was hoarse, almost rough, — it's time to go from show to action, my lovely little seductress~. — His fingers crept inward on her thigh again, but she intercepted his hand, pressing it back to her buttock with ****, making it ripple slightly from the impulse. Then her hands moved to his lower back, locking there like a clasp.

— Oh, Chrissy-kun~… Don't worry, it'll all be soon~… — her voice became soft, purring, but it rang with such lust that goosebumps ran down his back. — You got no clue how BAD I ache to smother that pretty face between my titties…— she lifted her palm up, gently stroking his cheek. — ...How I need ya suckin' my nipples while A'ma ridin' that juicy cock wild and deep~… — she moaned the last syllable as her thighs involuntarily jerked. — O-o-oh~!... How I wanna you to feel me tighten 'round ya EVERY TIME you slam into my ass… How I want to do *messy sixty-nine *with you, sweetie~…\

His cock twitched again, this time so hard that he barely held back a moan from the slightly painful sensation of the restrained penis in the tightness.

He wanted her

He craved her

To unravel this tangle of cords and thrust into her hard, not stopping pounding her slit for at least few hours... But Kyoka clearly enjoyed every second of this eternal longing and didn't intend to head to the climax for another couple-three minutes or hours.

— And you have no idea, — he whispered, his head leaning forward, his lips touching her neck, — how much I want to fulfill ALL your dark dreams, my dear Kyo… — his teeth lightly bit her earlobe, making her shudder and momentarily open her mouth in fleeting ecstasy. — How I want to fuck you until you go hoarse from loud moans and screams… — his hand began gently stroking her back, searching for an erogenous zone there, which, overall, was quickly found, marked by a light shiver in Kyoka. — How I want us to enjoy long hours at home and outside, fucking each other with unseen passion… How I want your charmingly seductive face to show unprecedented, exceptional ECSTASY from every joint orgasm and squirt~...

Her breathing faltered, her knees buckled, but she stood firm, her nails digging into his shoulders.

— O-o, darlin'~… You are so care of me~? I love it… I love you, ya know? He-he-he~… — she whispered, her lips touching his in a light, loving passionate kiss. — …And don't worry~… We both know this show will end with a intense "fireworks", isn't it~? — Her hand slid down, her fingers again gripping his erection through the fabric, lightly squeezing and stroking it. — So... let's wrap up this performance and move to the real fun, m-m~? — She finished saying by sexily biting her lip.

Kyoka slowly pulled away, her lips spreading into a tender and simultaneously sly smile. Her gaze slid over his face, then dropped to his crotch, where the pants' fabric barely held the ever-growing arousal, and her hand was still on his cock. Then, without looking away, she lowered down one of her quirk's jacks and picked up the black nylon micro-bikini set from the couch.

— Whatcha think, Chris: if two dirty pervert minds are already cravin' the exact same filthy things… can ya really call that first spark anythin' but fate…? — she turned, demonstratively swaying her hips, and entered the booth. — Heh-heh~… 'Kay-'kay, the question's obvious, and thus stupid... I did my part of the deal, soon it'll be your turn to do yours~…

Chris watched as she froze, and the jacks began to slide off her body, untying knots, gradually exposing skin. First they crawled off her back, slowly freed thighs and buttocks. Then Kyoka took panties and quickly pulled them on, allowing jacks to completely slip off hips and ass. Thin V-strings from dense black nylon immediately cut between labia, softly but insistently sticking to wet skin, slightly shining through swollen folds. From friction against soft material Kyoka's pelvis slightly pushed forward, and she let out a muffled quiet moan.

She slightly spread legs and swayed hips – strings pressed denser into slit, fabric stretched, outlining every fold, shining under lamps with soft gloss.

Kyoka deftly scooped up micro-bra, dark-purple sharp nails glided over smooth surface, hooked edges. Slowly turning back to Chris, she showed curve of spine and even lines of shoulders before starting to untie shibari on breasts. Jacks wrapped around nipples began to slowly untwist. Each knot loosened without sound, for fractions of second opening skin – areolas flashed and immediately disappeared behind nylon. Breasts slightly bounced from release, heavily swayed in time with breathing; nipples rubbed against dense fabric from inside, giving pleasant shiver down belly.

Finally, when last knots near her throat unraveled and jacks returned under hair, Kyoka quickly covered breasts with thin black bra. Fabric lay like second skin, soft and tender to touch, but with light nerve-exciting friction, from which nipples were pierced by bright flash of pleasure. Kyoka heavily and satisfiedly sighed from pleasant sensations of material. Nylon was dense enough to confidently embrace breasts, but at same time shone through – elongated pink-crimson areolas and sticking out hard nipples unclearly but noticeably drew through it, as if "coming out of black haze".

From material came warm, slightly sweetish smell of new lingerie, mixed with her own musk and smell of her berry perfume. This aroma stirred and invigorated Kyoka's mind, making her think about sex even more actively and dirtier. Surface of fabric slightly gleamed, sexually reflecting part of light from fitting-room lamps.

She with confident movement tied thin straps on back crosswise and pulled, from which bra tightly cut into skin, pleasantly pricking and lifting breasts. Nipples now outlined even more clearly, fabric stretched so that each breath made them slightly rub from inside and bend fabric clearly along their shape.

Kyoka slowly turned to Chris fully. Bra barely covered nipples, and strings cut deep between her thick lips – fabric got wet and stuck, outlining every fold, slightly shining through dark triangle. Nylon gleamed on thighs and buttocks, reflecting light with soft overflows, and when she arched back, material stretched even tighter, softly sliding over skin, leaving light sensation of exciting itch.

— We-e-e-e-ell~?... I'm SEX! Aren't I, Chrissy-ku-u-u-n~? — her voice was full of challenge and arousal, betrayed by her body's micro-movements.

Chris stood from the couch, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe, burning this image into his memory forever.

— Kidding...? — he stepped to her, one hand wrapping her waist, the other linking with her mirroring hand, pulling her close. — You're divine… I love it… I love you~… needed to say it before, sorry.

Their lips met again, but this time the kiss wasn't tender, but greedy, almost wild. His tongue invaded her mouth, his hands squeezed her buttocks, pressing her so tightly that she felt his cock, hard as rock, pressing into her stomach.

They were tired of waiting.

They needed each other like a living being needs oxygen.

She moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his skin.

— He-he-he~… don't ya worry none~. If you mean it, then quit makin' me wait on that fine ass~… — she whispered the second their lips broke apart, breath hot against his mouth. — I want you. All of you. Now. Foreplay time is finally over, sweetie~… Get over 'ere~!

Her hand slid to his belt…

---

DO YOU HAVE ANY CREATIVE IDEAS THAT WOULD LOOK GOOD IN THE UPCOMING CHAPTERS?

If you have thoughts even just about poses, phrases, fetishes (+ whose they are + under what circumstances they "reveal" themselves), actions, quirks, transformations, etc., that would look sexy and "beautiful" – please write to me about them in the comments. I'm collecting ideas for future chapters (I already have some stock of ideas – mostly about sex or transformations), and it'd be cool to see YOUR ideas of it all (most likely I'll jot them down and implement them in future chapters. P.S. at the end of chapters where I use your ideas, I'll mention you as the author of that specific idea, unless you ask otherwise).

The author of the idea for "peach" transformations: fluffysheeplion
(All Kris' and Jiro's thoughts about plump lips and juicy peaches are purposefully twisted by the Pink Sky to give Jiro an oversized, puffy, vulgar pussy giving her a very obvious cameltoe in her new shorts.)

"And remember! The Empire cares about you!"