Used by Nami [Pt. I]

As Nami worked her way through a rapid succession of outfits, it became harder and harder to ignore a shift in her behavior. She was moving with the same confidence as before, that sharp, calculated edge in every step, but now there was something else—something quieter, more deliberate. Her sharp eyes flicked to me more often than before, her gaze pointed, almost expectant, like she was daring me to react to what she was doing.

I, of course, was finding this awesome. This Straw Hat navigator hottie who Buggy's crew treated like some sort of thieving mastermind was dancing to my tune perfectly. So I did nothing.

She didn’t say anything, of course. That wasn’t her style. But her actions spoke louder than words. She lingered longer as she adjusted each new outfit, turning in ways that gave me more glimpses of her bare skin than necessary. When she peeled off a dress, her back turned toward me, she took her time with it, bending slightly at the waist so the curve of her ass and the thin strip of her g-string were on full display.

At one point, as she stepped into a new skirt, she tilted her hips just enough that I caught a glimpse between her legs and her g-string hung oddly loose. It gave me a direct view of her pussy! It was shaved, her thick, puffy lips concealing most of the pink slit between them, with just the barest hint of her hooded clit visible at the top. Above it, a neatly trimmed patch of flame orange hair added a splash of color, framing her arousal like a work of art.

Her movements were so smooth, so deliberate, that I almost missed the way her body responded to the situation up top. Her nipples—utterly mouthwatering—stood out prominently hard, half an inch of stiff pink flesh capped by areolas the size of a berri coins. Every time she slipped off a top or adjusted a strap, they swayed slightly, bouncing just enough to keep my attention locked on her chest.

It wasn’t just her body, though. It was the way she watched me. Her sharp eyes lingered on me more often now, not with annoyance or scorn but with something else. Something calculating. Each glance felt like a test, like she was trying to gauge my reaction without giving anything away.

Then finally she stepped back into the stall and all pretense was gone. She closed the curtain with a sharp flick of her wrist, her sharp eyes locking onto mine with a mix of irritation and resignation. Her orange hair framed her face as she crossed her arms over her chest, her tone as cutting as ever.

“Alright,” she started, her voice dripping with exasperation. “Because—of course!—you’re just as much an irritating idiot, in your own way, as my crew of male morons, and apparently, inexplicably and all of a sudden can’t take a hint…”

She let the words hang in the air, her gaze never leaving mine as she stepped closer, her movements deliberate and measured. “I’m going to make this simple,” she continued, her hands moving to her hips. “You sit there, you shut up, and you let me handle this. Got it?”

I blinked, surprised but intrigued by her sudden decisiveness. A grin spread across my face as I leaned back against the stall wall, spreading my legs wider. “Your show, lady,” I replied smoothly, gesturing toward the obvious invitation between my thighs.

Her new outfit was something else. The skintight stretchy pants clung to her legs like a second skin, showing off every curve and line. They were practically painted on, and when she stepped closer to me, her hips swayed just enough to make the tight fabric stretch and pull in the most distracting ways.

She’d already removed her top, and the motion of her (maybe) I-cup beauties was impossible to ignore. Bigger than her head and perfectly full, they moved with a heavy sway that contrasted with the lithe sharpness of her figure. Each step sent them bouncing lightly, their natural weight making them shift and jiggle just enough to draw the eye without needing any effort on her part.

I leaned back on the bench, spreading my legs wider as she moved between them. She didn’t look at me—not directly—but her movements were calculated, each one designed to draw my attention exactly where she wanted it. And it was working.

She stopped in front of me, her back turned, and bent over as if to grab something from the floor. Her ass bumped against my cock, and I sucked in a breath as the massive thick length twitched in response. She didn’t react, at least not outwardly, but I caught the tiniest shift in her posture, like she’d enjoyed the reaction.

I grinned, my hands twitching as I fought the urge to grab her hips and pull her closer.

“Don’t get handsy,” she muttered as if reading my mind, glancing back at me over her shoulder with a sharp glare. “You’ve already done enough of that.”

I knew I could grab her, do whatever I wanted and whatever her preference, she'd let me do it.

But no—this was better. Let her take the lead for now. Whatever had changed in her mind, it was too good. I'd loved messing with that Marine slut Tashigi, but that had been too easy with me leading the rule-obsessed chick around like a dog on a leash. This was better. Nami probably thought she was such hot shit—like she had the upper hand, like I was her little toy to play with and toss aside when she was done.

And yet, she didn’t realize how much she was already playing into my hands. Sure, she had control for now, but the best part? She didn’t even know I’d planted the ideas in her mind. That confidence, that sharp attitude, thinking she was running the show—it made this so much sweeter. Because soon enough, even she wouldn’t be able to deny it: I was already in her head, and the more she tried to take charge, the more I’d enjoy watching her unravel.

She straightened slowly, her hips brushing against me again, and turned just enough to glance over her shoulder. Her sharp eyes caught mine for a brief moment, unreadable but definitely not really annoyed by my attention. Then she reached for the waistband of her tights.

Nami’s fingers hooked into the stretchy fabric, and she began to peel it down, her movements agonizingly slow. The pants slid down her hips, inch by inch, exposing more of her smooth, tanned skin. My eyes followed the motion, captivated by the way her ass came into view—round, plump, and barely covered by the thin strip of her g-string. I’d seen this woman reveal her ass what felt like fifty times in the last twenty minutes, but the way she moved, the deliberate tease in every inch she revealed, made it so damn sexy it felt like the first time all over again.

She bent forward as she pushed the tights lower, arching her back and presenting herself in a way that felt almost casual. The curve of her ass was perfect, the soft flesh jiggling slightly as she adjusted her stance. The g-string disappeared between her cheeks, framing them in a way that made my mouth go dry.

My cock twitched again, harder this time, the thick length pressing against her as if it had a mind of its own. She paused briefly, the tights now bunched around her thighs, and glanced back at me again. This time, there was the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips, but she didn’t say a word.

I leaned back further, my grin widening as I watched her. “Looks like you’re finally warming up,” I said, my voice low and teasing.

She didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge the comment. Instead, she straightened slightly and began to sway her hips, letting her ass bump against me again. The sensation was electric, and I couldn’t help but groan as she pressed herself more firmly against my cock.

This was perfect. She must have been some kind of slut before hand, because just that little tiny normality I'd made to her mindset couldn't possibly have made this much of a difference, and now here she was, practically offering herself to me without a single complaint. I had no idea what was going on in her head, but I didn’t need to. All that mattered was that she was finally giving in—and I was going to enjoy every second of it.

She lowered herself onto my lap, her soft, round ass pressing against my cock, which was still throbbing with anticipation, pressing into my chest by the weight of her bottom. The thin strip of her g-string barely covered anything, and as she shifted, my shaft nestled perfectly into the cleft of her cheeks.

The heat of her body, even through the thin fabric, was maddening. She began to move, her hips rolling back and forth in slow, sensual motions. My cock throbbed with each grind, the thick length captured snugly between her cheeks as she worked herself against me.

The sight alone was enough to drive me wild—the way her plump ass jiggled with every motion, the curve of her back as she leaned forward slightly, giving me an even better view. I couldn’t help but groan, my hands twitching with the urge to grab her, to take control. But I held back, letting her set the pace.

After a minute of teasing me like that, Nami suddenly lifted herself off my lap. My cock pulsed at the loss of her warmth, but before I could say anything, she bent over in front of me, her hands reaching back to grab her cheeks.

She spread them wide, her toned, tanned body on full display as her ass jiggled slightly with the motion. The thin strip of her g-string disappeared between her cheeks, barely covering anything, and I caught a perfect glimpse of her tight, pink asshole nestled just above her slick folds.

My breath hitched as she looked back at me, her sharp eyes daring me to make a move without saying a word. It was an invitation, and one I wasn’t about to pass up.

Apparently, I got to be handsy now.

I reached out, my hands gripping her soft, pliant cheeks firmly. My fingers dug into the smooth flesh as I squeezed, savoring the way it yielded under my touch. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away—she just held herself there, her back arched, her body practically begging for more.

I spread her cheeks further, exposing her completely. My gaze trailed over her perfect pink star and the wet, glistening folds below it. Without thinking, I hooked a finger under the thin strip of her g-string and pushed it aside, leaving nothing between me and her.

“Damn,” I muttered, my voice thick with appreciation. “You’re incredible.”

She didn’t respond, just held her position, her body shifting slightly as if to say, What are you waiting for?

My hands slid along her cheeks again, spreading and squeezing as I leaned forward, ready to take what she was so clearly offering. This was better than I’d imagined—better than anything I could’ve planned. And I wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

As I held the thin strip of her g-string aside, Nami shifted her weight, arching her back to give me an even better view. Her glistening folds peeked out, the soft, wrinkled edges slick with her juices. The sight was mesmerizing—the way her arousal glistened under the dim light, a thin string of her wetness slipping free and dangling for a moment before falling.

She didn’t hesitate, leaning back against me, her ass pressing against my cock as she began to grind. Her movements were slow, deliberate, the heat of her slick pussy spreading over my length as she worked herself against it. The sensation was electric, her juices coating me as she adjusted her angle, the soft curves of her ass molding perfectly to my shaft.

I couldn’t resist. I reached down, gripping my cock and smacking it against her ass with a loud thwack. The sound echoed in the small stall, and she let out a soft, almost amused noise as her cheeks jiggled slightly from the impact.

As the sound of the smack faded, Nami paused, glancing back at me with sharp eyes and a slight, unimpressed smirk. “You done playing around?” she asked dryly, her voice laced with that cutting sarcasm she wielded so well.

I grinned, my hands still resting on her ass, spreading her cheeks again as if daring her to complain. “Just appreciating the view,” I said smoothly, giving her a slow, deliberate squeeze.

She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath about “idiots and their obsessions.” Then, to my surprise, she reached back, her fingers curling around the base of my cock. Her hand barely wrapped around its girth, but she held it steady, tilting it downward as she adjusted her stance.

“Like hell I’m going to try sitting on something this ridiculous,” she muttered, her tone dripping with exasperation.

She angled my cock horizontally, positioning it like a third leg parallel with my thighs as she began to back onto it. The curve of her heart-shaped ass pressed firmly around my dickhead, her movements slow and deliberate as she aligned herself. Her slick folds brushed against the swollen head, and I sucked in a breath as the heat and wetness of her entrance teased me further.

She pushed back slightly, the tight ring of her pussy stretching around me as she took the tip inside. “Seaking!!!” she cursed, her voice low but not quite steady. Her hips rolled as she inched herself further, her slick walls gripping me tightly as she adjusted to the size.

I watched, mesmerized, as her perfect ass slowly swallowed more of me. Her cheeks jiggled slightly with every movement, the curve of her back arching as she focused entirely on the task at hand. It wasn’t just sex—it was precision, control, a demonstration of her determination to take what she wanted, no matter the challenge.

As she got further, her breathing quickened, a faint grunt escaping her lips as she paused. She was nearly halfway there, but her body trembled, her slick walls clenching tightly around me as though trying to decide whether to accept more.

She glanced back at me, her fiery hair sticking to her damp skin. “Don’t even think about saying something stupid,” she snapped, her voice sharp despite the breathlessness in her tone.

I raised my hands in mock surrender, biting back a grin. “Not a word,” I said, though the sight of her struggling to take me was almost too good not to comment on.

She growled softly, gripping my cock tighter as she adjusted her angle again. Another inch slipped inside, and she exhaled sharply, her knuckles whitening as she braced herself by gripping my knees.

It didn’t take a genius to see what she was doing—her entire manner, her posture, her refusal to even glance my way unless absolutely necessary—it was all deliberate. She was avoiding any real interaction with me, her focus entirely outward, her sharp eyes scanning the stall wall like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. The way she angled her body, leaning forward with her hands braced on my knees, made it clear: I wasn’t a partner to her in this moment. I was a tool. A means to an end.

To Nami, I wasn’t a person. I was a statue with a dildo attached, and she was using it exactly how she wanted. No strings, no intimacy, no acknowledgment that I was even here beyond the fact that my cock was buried inside her.

And I was so totally here for it.

She adjusted her hips again, pushing back slightly to take another fraction of my length. Her slick walls clenched tightly around me, her body trembling with the effort, but her expression stayed sharp, focused. She didn’t look at me, didn’t speak, just muttered curses under her breath as she worked to fit more of me inside.

“Damn it,” she hissed, her voice low and frustrated. “This thing is absurd.”

Her ass bounced slightly as she shifted again, the curve of her back arching as she pressed down harder. The sight was mesmerizing, her heart-shaped cheeks jiggling with every movement, but I kept still, letting her take the lead.

She didn’t need me to do anything. Hell, she didn’t want me to do anything. This was all her—her pace, her rhythm, her determination to make this happen on her terms.

“Stupid… giant… thing,” she muttered, her voice strained as she managed another inch. Her sharp nails dug into my knees, her knuckles white as she braced herself. Her movements were deliberate, every roll of her hips calculated to maximize what she could take while minimizing anything that would acknowledge me as, well, me.

I grinned, watching her work. “Need a hand?” I asked, unable to resist.

“Shut up,” she snapped immediately, her sharp eyes cutting toward me for the briefest moment. “You’re here to sit there and let me handle this. Got it?”

“Crystal,” I said, biting back a chuckle.

She turned her focus back outward, her lips pressing into a thin line as she pushed back again, taking another inch. Her body shuddered slightly, her breathing heavy, but she didn’t stop. She was relentless, and I couldn’t help but admire the sheer determination it took to keep going.

To her, I wasn’t even part of this equation. And for now? That was just fine by me.

She remained bent over, her hands braced against the floor as she backed onto me inch by inch. The sight was almost surreal—her gorgeous, heart-shaped ass slowly growing larger as she pushed back, her cheeks jiggling faintly with each movement. With the rest of her body bent forward and out of sight, it was like watching a detached, perfect ass docking with my crotch.

Her tight, wet walls clenched around me as she sank back, and I stared at her tiny pink asshole just above my plunging shaft. It seemed almost animated, moving slightly with each motion as if it, too, was riding along for the experience.

She continued to back onto me slowly, her ass jiggling slightly with each careful movement. The swollen lips of her pussy parted as she took me in, inch by inch, the heat of her channel gripping me like a vice. My cock throbbed with each push, and I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her determined movements.

But as she got closer to the base, her pace slowed. Three inches from the hilt, her progress halted, her walls clenching tightly as if her body was trying to say, That’s enough. She froze for a moment, her breathing heavy as she adjusted, trying to take more but clearly struggling.

I leaned forward slightly, my hand sliding down to tap a spot on my cock an inch from the base. Quietly, deliberately, I murmured, “It’s normal for a woman to have a long, rolling, incredible minute-long orgasm the first time they get this much cock inside them.”

The earrings hummed faintly, their subtle magic weaving through the air and settling into place.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, her voice sharp but low. “I know how huge dicks work, okay?”

And just like that, she responded as if her defeated halt had only ever been a mere brief rest. Her ass pushed back against me, more insistent now, her slick channel tightening around me as she fought to take more. She didn’t say anything at first, just let out a quiet grunt of frustration as her hips shifted, trying to stretch herself further.

I chuckled softly, keeping my hands steady on her hips as she continued her efforts. The heat and tightness of her body were almost overwhelming, but I held back, letting her push herself. She managed another inch, but then stopped again, her head dipping slightly as her fingers curled against the floor.

Finally, she let out a frustrated growl, glancing back at me over her shoulder with a sharp glare. “Help,” she snapped, her voice firm despite the breathlessness that laced it. “I’m not missing out on my big-dickgasm.”

The term caught me off guard, the way it rolled off her tongue like something she’d always known. My grin widened as I gripped her hips tighter, bracing myself. “Whatever you say, Nami,” I said, my voice low and teasing.

Without waiting for her response, I pulled her onto me hard, my cock plunging the last few inches into her tight, soaking pussy. Her body jolted, her ass slamming against my thighs as I buried myself completely inside her. The sensation was electric—her walls clenching around me like they were trying to pull me even deeper, her slick heat gripping every inch of my cock.

Nami froze for a moment, her body trembling as a low, guttural moan escaped her lips. Her head dipped lower, her hair falling around her face as her hands clawed at the floor. The orgasm hit her hard, her walls fluttering and spasming around me in a way that sent shivers up my spine.

“Fuck,” she muttered, her voice breaking as she tried to catch her breath. “That… that’s…” She trailed off, unable to finish as another wave of pleasure rolled through her.

I grinned, leaning back slightly as I let her ride it out. This was exactly what I’d hoped for—and more.