Tashigi and Tsujo pt. [III]

We had been wandering through the northern market long enough that I had stopped keeping track of how we got there. Tashigi had guided me past several rows of stalls while explaining local produce, import duties, and which merchants routinely cheated tourists. I couldn’t have repeated a word of it.

I had been hard for most of the tour. Tashigi’s warm fist had stroked me through half the city without letting me finish, and my cock felt swollen enough to burst. My balls hung heavy beneath it, aching every time her hand squeezed behind the head.

Six times a day was about what I needed to keep my thoughts clear. Anything less and sex started pushing everything else out of my head. I was well past the point where I could pretend to care about historical buildings, trade routes, or another one of Tashigi’s lectures.

The sword-crazy Marine had spent the afternoon holding my cock, letting me grope her tits and ass, and pressing her hot pussy into my hand while surrounded by people. Whatever she wanted to call it, her fist was giving me a handjob now. Her face remained flushed, her nipples showed through her crooked shirt, and the seam of her trousers felt damp whenever I reached between her legs.

She was ready. I was more than ready. I was done playing around.

For the last several blocks, the agonizingly slow tour had steadily deteriorated from a humiliating obligation into a relentless, full-body tease.

Every step Tashigi took with her fist wrapped around his massive, throbbing erection had sent another pulse of liquid heat straight into her increasingly soaked panties. But the true shift happened when Tsujo stopped pretending to care about her explanations at all. The mocking questions about her past lovers faded as his attention narrowed into the blunt, uncomplicated lust of a young man who had realized exactly how wet she was getting for him. His appeal remained crude and almost boyish: a skinny, messy-haired pirate with a stupid grin, an enormous erection, and all the self-control of a stud in heat.

Yet with that monstrous cock throbbing through her fist and his hands roaming confidently over her body, Tashigi could no longer see him as merely some lewd tourist playing games. He felt intensely male to her, a virile young stud packed with more cock and cum than seemed possible, delighted by her arousal and eager to put all of it inside her. His groping grew firmer, bolder, and more impatient. He stopped asking questions and, with vulgar enthusiasm, began telling her exactly how he was going to fuck her.

Tashigi’s breathing was a shallow, ragged metronome against the deafening clamor of the Loguetown market.

Every few steps, the tour simply ground to a halt because Tsujo decided he wanted to put his hands on her again.

She gasped, her boot catching on the cobblestones as he spun her around and pinned her against the side of a shuttered stall. A pair of sailors walking past didn't even blink, merely stepping around them.

His mouth crashed over hers, his tongue pushing past her lips with the same aggressive entitlement he applied to everything else. Tashigi melted against the wood of the stall, a shameful, muffled whimper escaping her throat. Her hands, which should have been reaching for Shigure to strike any other pirate down who tried this, instead fluttered weakly before gripping the lapels of his purple jacket to keep her knees from giving out.

Tsujo broke the kiss just enough to grin down at her, his hands sliding around to aggressively knead her ass through her trousers. He ground his hips forward. The sheer mass of his erection pressed firmly into the aching cleft of her thighs, sending a shockwave of heat straight to her core.

“You feel how wet you’re getting for me?” he murmured vulgarly. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Tashigi. I’m going to pull these tight little Marine pants down and bury this huge cock inside you while you scream for it.”

He pushed his hips again, harder this time, tracing the heavy ridge of his shaft against her most sensitive spot through the fabric.

Tashigi’s head spun. Her body was betraying her in the most absolute, devastating way possible. The two brief relationships in her past had offered nothing to prepare her for this. This completely normal random guy, this pirate, was a walking force of pure, raw virility. The sheer, intimidating size of the weapon he carried, the heavy, pulsing weight of it that she had been forced to hold, the massive balls she had seen exposed, triggered a deep, primitive instinct within her. It was an undeniable biological signal of superior fitness, flooding her brain with a cocktail of sex hormones that made rational thought impossible.

He was a pirate. He was dangerous by definition. But right now, the only danger she cared about was the desperate, burning ache between her legs.

“I can do whatever I want with you, right out here in the open,” Tsujo crowed, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin right beneath her waistband, his eyes triumphant. “And nobody is going to do a damn thing to stop me. I can take my time stretching you out, claiming every inch of that tight little pussy until you forget you were ever a Marine.”

Tashigi shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut. An ordinary tourist who claimed such liberties would earn a slap, and she’d just take whatever criticism she received for mishandling the tour. But Tsujo could do exactly what he promised. That was obvious to her and to everyone strolling past them. She would still have preferred a locked room, somewhere she could preserve the last scraps of her dignity while finally giving in to him. Yet after an half an hour of his kisses, grasping hands, and enormous cock rubbing against her body, even that preference was weakening. Every overheated inch of her wanted him to stop promising and finally satisfy the need he had spent all this time building.

When a passing woman cast an envious glance at the heavy cock trapped between Tashigi and the pirate, the forbidden thrill that had been building throughout the tour flared hotter. It had begun with the stares when she led him through the streets by his erection and deepened each time he groped her in full view of shoppers and sailors. Now anyone could see how completely he was handling her, and anyone close enough could hear the filthy promises whispered against her lips. Every witness heightened the pleasure, pulling Tashigi tighter until she felt one more touch might make her shatter.

“Yes...” Tashigi gasped, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

Tsujo went still for half a heartbeat. Then his grin widened.

“There it is.”

His mouth covered hers again. One hand stayed buried in the flesh of her ass while the other forced its way beneath the front of her trousers. His palm settled over panties so wet that the fabric slid freely across her pussy. Tashigi whimpered into his mouth when two fingers pressed the soaked cloth between her lips and rubbed firmly over her clitoris.

The admission had escaped her, but her body kept repeating it. Her hips rolled into his hand. Her fist tightened around his cock. When Tsujo pulled away, she followed his mouth before catching herself and turning the movement into a clumsy attempt to straighten her glasses.

“Keep walking,” he ordered.

Tashigi pushed her glasses into place. “The central square is straight ahead.”

Her voice shook, but she resumed the tour.

The next block passed in broken pieces. Tashigi managed fragments about market permits, the old harbor wall, and the streets feeding into the square. Tsujo answered every fact by squeezing her ass or pressing close enough for his erection to drag across her hip. He kept telling her that he was going to fuck her. He said it against her neck, into her ear, and once directly into her mouth before silencing her with another kiss.

By the time they reached the fruit stalls, Tashigi could feel her pulse beating inside her swollen pussy.

“The avenue ahead opens onto the central square,” she said. “Roger’s execution platform is on the far side. We can be there in ten minutes if you stop interrupting me.”

“Stop here.”

Tashigi stopped.

Tsujo took his cock from her hand and moved behind her.

“Tsujo, what are you doing?”

“I’ve been smelling your wet pussy for two streets. I want a taste.”

Tashigi stared at the shoppers passing on both sides. “H-here? Everyone can see!”

“I know.”

He pushed her over the fruit stall.

She landed chest-first across the counter with both arms buried among the peaches. Several rolled loose and bounced onto the street. Her sword knocked against the wooden frame while Tashigi struggled to keep her glasses on her face.

“Tsujo!”

I stood there for a moment with my hands on her hips, marveling at what I could simply do now.

Tashigi was a Marine officer. She carried a sword, commanded armed men, and had probably arrested pirates tougher than me. I had decided I wanted her bent over in the middle of the market, so I had bent her over. Now her ass was raised toward me while she sputtered into a pile of fruit.

The earrings were incredible.

Before she could push herself upright, I opened her belt and dragged her trousers down. Her soaked white panties peeled away with them, briefly clinging between her pussy lips before both garments caught around her knees.

Tashigi gasped and started to look back. Then she noticed the passing crowds. Her hands twitched toward her trousers, but instead of pulling them up, she made the much funnier decision to hide. She shoved her burning face deeper into the peaches, leaving her bare ass in the air.

“My trousers,” she mumbled into the display. “You have pulled down my trousers.”

“You noticed that, huh?" I laughed.

Her coat still covered the best part, so I gathered both tails and flipped them onto her back, uncovering her completely from the waist down. I held the coat high like I had just unveiled something worth seeing, presenting her naked ass to anyone walking past the stall. When people glanced at my erection first, I gestured toward her instead. When one woman tried to look without turning her head, I squeezed Tashigi’s left cheek, making the pale mound bulge between my fingers to earn a proper double take.

Tashigi could not see any of this. She could only hear the slowing footsteps, snickers, and low appreciative whistles gathering behind her.

Suddenly, the matronly curly-haired fruit seller grinned, slapped one of her peaches, and shouted to the street. “Get your juicy lady Marine butt right here! Two for twenty berries! Firm, ripe, and dripping when you bite in!”

“Please do not help him advertise my ass,” Tashigi whimpered, her voice muffled just as a nearby spectator immediately bought four peaches.

Once everyone nearby had received a good look, I released her coat and settled into a squat behind her. From that low angle, her ass looked enormous. The two pale, tightly packed cheeks swallowed almost everything between them, hiding her deep cleft in shadow. All I could see at first was the plump lower end of her slit squeezed between her thighs, completely glossy with wetness.

I planted both hands on her ass and pulled the soft lower curves apart, opening the cleft while Tashigi stiffened over the peaches. Her small, puckered asshole appeared first, followed by her pussy. Dark hair framed thick outer lips swollen by the afternoon’s constant arousal. The softer folds inside pushed visibly between them: pink, plump, and slick enough to gleam in the sunlight. Clear juice coated the entire slit, welling out of her opening to leave a shining trail toward the white panties stretched between her knees.

It clenched while I stared at it, the little opening tightening and relaxing to squeeze out fresh wetness.

“Sweet seas,” I murmured. “Look at that.”

“Tsujo,” Tashigi pleaded desperately into the fruit. “I am trying very hard not to.”

I didn't just look. I pushed two fingers directly into her dripping slit. She was so incredibly wet that I slid all the way to my knuckles with zero resistance. The hot, tight muscles inside immediately clamped down, milking my digits as I curled them upward.

Tashigi’s spine arched violently over the stall, a high, breathless whine vibrating through the peaches.

“Your insides are all gooey and totally eager to take my cock, aren’t they?” I asked, pumping my fingers in and out of her slick channel.

The truth normality locked into place in her mind. She couldn't deflect, and she couldn't hide behind her embarrassment. She had to answer me completely.

“Y-yes!” Tashigi gasped out loud, her voice trembling uncontrollably as her hips instinctively pushed back against my hand. “I’m extremely wet. My pussy keeps squeezing your fingers, and I want your cock inside me so badly I can barely think! You’re a pirate and I’m a Marine officer. I still wish we were somewhere private, but I want you to fuck me even if you do it here!”

My cock jumped between my thighs.

I drove my fingers into her again and curled them hard. Tashigi cried out, hips bucking against my hand while her pussy clamped around both digits.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

I gave her several more slow thrusts, enjoying the wet sucking sound her cunt made around my fingers. Then I pulled them free. Her opening clenched after them, shining and empty.

I spread her cheeks wider and leaned forward until I could smell the clean sweat on her skin and the stronger musk rising between her legs.

Then I put my mouth on her.

The first taste was strong. Her cunt was hot, musky, and distinctly sour after spending the afternoon wet inside close-fitting panties. Sweat added salt, but the deep sour tang stayed across my tongue as I licked from her entrance to her clit.

It tasted like a pussy that had been dripping for me all day.

Tashigi jerked hard enough that her glasses nearly fell into the peaches. I tightened my grip upon her ass and licked her again, slower this time, gathering the wetness my fingers had drawn from inside her.

Marta leaned across her peaches because everyone in the western market knew Tashigi.

The young officer inspected weapon stalls, chased pickpockets, and scolded men who didn't take care of their swords correctly. She was earnest, stiff-backed, and easy to fluster. Now her trousers were around her knees while a young man held up her coat and buried his face between her spread cheeks. Her blue white furred jacket framed her bare hips and marked the wet pink pussy beneath them unmistakably hers.

That was worth staring at.

The young man earned a quick glance. Skinny, messy-haired, and ordinary-faced. Marta would have forgotten him by supper. At first, he mattered mainly for what his hands and mouth revealed about Tashigi. A burgeoning brazen little slut, this one! What a surprise! Perhaps she should have been a barmaid rather than a sword-toting Marine! The proper young Marine was trembling over a crate of peaches and pushing her ass backward whenever his tongue moved faster.

Then he shifted his squat. His knees spread wider, his hips moved back, and Marta saw what hung between his legs.

That forced a second appraisal. His face remained forgettable. Everything memorable about him apparently hung below the waist.

He balanced in a deep squat with both feet planted and his backside clear of the street. Despite this, his scrotum still reached the ground. The immense sack rested on the cobblestones beneath him, loose skin spreading against the warm stone around two testicles whose weight made Marta’s fingers curl with the urge to lift and cup them.

From above that sack, a cock projected forward so monumentally that the first glance failed to make sense of it as a penis. The wrist-thick shaft thrust out like a veined secondary limb, passed beneath Tashigi’s exposed pussy, and continued through her parted legs. Its broad, swollen head emerged in front of her thighs, hanging in open air and bobbing whenever the young man worked his mouth more vigorously.

The shaft was flushed dark with blood, ridged with veins, and heavy enough to bow into a shallow curve between his squat and the head bobbing before Tashigi’s thighs. Precum shone across the blunt head. Every small movement made the whole impossible pole sway.

That was worth staring at.

People came in every conceivable shape in the East Blue. Across the lane, old Boro arranged cabbages with hands broad enough to hide them completely. His head was as round and large as a festival pumpkin, balanced upon shoulders barely wider than Marta’s own.

Boro had been a fixture in the northern market for thirty years. Thanks to two ex-wives, an unfortunate bathhouse incident, and the speed at which intimate information traveled between market women, Marta also knew that the cock between his legs was entirely average (though she’d heard good things about those sausage fingers of his).

Enormous hands did not guarantee an enormous cock. Neither did a giant head, a barrel chest, legs twice the ordinary length, or arms capable of reaching across a street.

As a girl, Marta had occasionally wondered whether the same generous accidents that produced oversized hands and heads might produce men with cocks and balls equally out of proportion. She had listened for stories in bathhouses, questioned boastful sailors, and inspected a respectable sample of men during her younger years.

She had never found one.

Now one was squatting behind Tashigi, answering the question she had carried since girlhood.

His fully erect penis projected between his thighs like the champion of every obscene tavern argument Marta had ever overheard.

A man whose cock and balls had received the same extravagant portion nature sometimes gave to heads, hands, noses, legs, breasts, and everything else.

Marta felt absurdly pleased to have lived long enough to see one.

She wondered how those balls would feel in her hands. She wondered how it would feel to stretch around every last inch of that magnificent cock while the head drove deep enough to knock against her lungs.

Then she wondered how long it had been since a young man had squatted behind her, spread her open, and licked until his face shone with her juices.

Eight years, unless she counted her late husband’s birthday attempt, and she didn’t.

She watched Tashigi’s fingers dig into the stall. The officer’s thighs trembled while the young man dragged slow, glistening strokes through her pussy. Each pass gathered more wetness, leaving his lips and chin shining.

A hot, wistful ache stirred beneath Marta’s apron.

“Fresh peaches!” she shouted, partly because business was business and partly because shouting gave her something to do. “Soft skin, sweet juice, and a cleft you’ll want to bury your face in!”

Tashigi’s world dissolved into the wet, relentless friction of Tsujo’s tongue and the mortifying cheers of the merchant.

Every tongue swipe against her swollen clitoris sent a jolt of pure lightning up her spine, her fingers blindly crushing the soft peaches beneath her palms. She couldn't think about her uniform, her sword, or her duty; her entire existence had narrowed down to the heavy, musky scent of her own arousal and the pirate eagerly devouring her. With a final, helpless sob, her climax hit her like a cannon shot. Her internal muscles spasmed violently, clenching and weeping around empty air as a blinding wave of pleasure crashed through her nervous system, leaving her trembling, pliant, and entirely ready to be claimed by the impossible weapon she knew was waiting right behind her thighs.

But the colossal intrusion never came. Instead of the brutal, stretching thrust her body was practically begging for, the wet heat of his mouth vanished. Before her shattered mind could even process the loss, rough hands grabbed the waistband of her trousers and yanked them up. The soaked fabric of her panties slapped coldly against her hypersensitive, throbbing slit, followed instantly by the thick material of her uniform pants. Her belt was abruptly buckled. Tashigi pushed herself up from the crushed fruit, her glasses hanging sideways from one ear, blinking dazedly at the cobblestones as Tsujo casually dropped her coat tails back down over her legs.

"Alright lady, Let's continue our tour, okay?" he said with amusment clear on his face shiny with her juices as he grabbed her hand and wrapped her fist right back around his massive, throbbing erection.

Tashigi obeyed on pure autopilot, her legs shaking so badly she nearly tripped over her own boots. As she steered him away from the cheering fruit seller, a hollow, devastating ache bloomed in her lower belly. The realization was more humiliating than the public display itself: she was actually disappointed. Her body was practically weeping from the lack of his big cock stretching her open, leaving her frustrated and painfully empty as she babbled mindlessly about municipal zoning. She was still hopelessly clutching his rigid shaft when the narrow market avenue finally widened, the shadows of the stalls falling away to reveal the bright, sprawling expanse of Loguetown’s central square, where the towering scaffolding of Gol D. Roger’s execution platform loomed silently over the crowds.