Kristi in a panic

Inktober Day 7: Panic

---

The green chick looks up at you with those coy fuck-me eyes. She just asked how you liked it. "Sure, not a bad titfuck, slut," you tell her. "You know how to use your sweater puppies. Come polish my dick again next time you need some milk."

Princess Fiona licks her lips. "What about our deal, Captain David?"

You point your thumb to the backyard. "Oh, the portal to the Shrek Universe is out back. Kristi over there's been trying to hide it for some reason. Dunno why. She's just a bitch sometimes."

Fiona throws Kristi a poisonous glare and walks out.

Kristi's top is still wet and sheer. The brunette receptionist looks a little panicked. "I wish you wouldn't throw me under the bus like that, David," she says.

You aren't having it. "I literally just said what you were doing. Why are you such a bitch all the time?"

She leans in. "We are being audited, David. The whole Blowjob Universe. I'm trying to protect you. You've got to stop raiding other universes for, like, one second. Literally every hottie you've ever met is already here in the BJU. Can you please just facefuck your sisters and your step-mom and your crush from school and the ice cream girl down the street like you're supposed to while the auditors are looking? No more fucking inter-dimensional princesses for one day? Else they are going to land some compliance bullshit on us and you'll have to remember how to read and write and fill out Blowjob Form 1A and Facefuck Form 67DD and Able Master knows what else every fucking time!"

You reach out and grab her by the tits. "Stop being a fucking bitch, Kristi! I fuck who I want."

Kristi looks terrified, though not actually of you. She's figuring out a very obvious ploy to keep you here so that you're not invading other universes. She puts on a pout. "Can't fuck me," she provokes you.

You just roar in lust and rage. *RIP* You tear off her stupid slutty white office shirt. *RIP* You destroy the zipper on her black pencil skirt and toss the skirt aside. *RIP* You disintegrate her lacy black panties. Then you grab her by the tits and throw her onto her back on Brooklyn's expensive pink velvet couch. *JIGGLE* Her body bounces, and her mouth conveniently falls open.

*BURBLE* You dive to motorboat Kristi's tits, and then you grab them like the clawable fuck-handles they are and park your dick so far down her throat she'll be hoarse for a week. *GLUCK* Kristi's always denied it, but Able Master knew what he was doing when he hired her to be the receptionist for your Blowjob Universe. *GLUCK* She exists to be the tightest throatpussy for you dick. *GLUCK* Getting drilled by your tonsil puncher is her entire life's purpose. *GLUCK* Her denial of her reason for existence only makes using her hotter. *GLUCK*

You crush her funbags in your grip and drill her gurgling facepussy. *GLUCK* You're sure her throat's only gotten tighter since the last time you put this bitch through her paces. *GLUCK* Her office strumpet tits are a delight to mash and crush in your vice grip. *GLUCK* Her throat's getting tighter as she runs out of air, the better to pleasure your cock. *GLUCK* You keep fucking her with those long, deep, satisfying strokes. *GLUCK*

Fuckdamn, you love a tight facepussy. *GLUCK* There is nothing like putting a slut to good use. *GLUCK* Kristi ought to be grateful you're here in this Blowjob Universe to fuck her like the feisty throathole she is. *GLUCK* She's beginning to make more incoherent noises. *GLUCK* Her throat is vibrating in service to your dick just like it should be. *GLUCK* You twist and pinch her nipples, and then you pump her stomach full of your jizz. *GLUCK* Your jizz keeps cumming, verging on inflating the stupid slut.

You give Kristi a slap as reward, and then you pull out. She drools on Brooklyn's expensive velvet couch but doesn't spill a drop of your cum. You've got this receptionist well trained by now. "Fuck," she whispers hoarsely. "Thank you for throatpieing me, David. Your cock is fucking amazing. I just hope that's enough for the auditors."