Using Nami [pt. II]

I barely had time to revel in the moment, her tight, wet channel finally taking the full length of my cock, before it really happened. Nami froze for just a second, her body tense and trembling as if she were on the edge of something enormous. Then, with a guttural, almost primal grunt, her body gave in completely.

Her pussy clamped down around me, the tight, slick walls gripping and squeezing in rolling waves that sent shudders through my entire body. It was like her pussy had come alive, each spasm pulling me deeper into her heat, milking me with a relentless rhythm. I gritted my teeth, trying to maintain control, but the sheer intensity of it was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, my hands gripping her hips tightly to keep her steady. Not that it was doing much good—her body was trembling violently, her ass bouncing back against my thighs as if it had a mind of its own.

Nami’s vaunted composure, that sharp, confident edge she always carried, was nowhere to be found. Her head dipped low, her hair hanging around her face as she grunted and moaned uncontrollably.

“Ugh, damn it—fuck—” she hissed, her words barely coherent as she rocked back and forth. Her ass jiggled wildly with every movement, her body driven purely by instinct now.

I shifted slightly, leaning forward to get a better view, and caught sight of her enormous tits swinging beneath her. They jumped around and quaked with the rest of her body, the fleshy mounds banging against the cage of her arms as she clawed at the floor for support. The sight was mesmerizing, the way they bounced and wobbled with every thrust making it impossible to look away.

She let out more loud grunts, more guttural, almost animalistic. “Unnghhh! Hhhrrnnnk!” she snarled, her voice thick with frustration and pleasure.

“Hhhhrk! Ungghh! Hhhnnnnnhh!” Her grunts grew louder, more ****, blending into short, sharp squeals that echoed in the small stall. The sound was animalistic, primal, and it sent a thrill down my spine.

Her rolling climax went on for what felt like forever, her pussy gripping and releasing me in waves that left me barely able to think. I groaned, my own body trembling as I fought to hold back, determined to let her finish before I even thought about losing control.

When she finally began to slow, her movements becoming less frantic, I loosened my grip on her hips slightly. She was still panting heavily, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, my voice low and rough. “That was… something else.”

Nami didn’t respond right away. She stayed bent over, her hair falling in a messy curtain around her face as she let out a shaky breath. “Shut up,” she muttered eventually, her voice hoarse but still carrying that sharp edge. “Just… shut up.”

I grinned, leaning back slightly as I ran my hands over her ass, savoring the way her body still trembled under my touch. “You’re welcome,” I said smugly, earning a glare over her shoulder that only made me chuckle.

This was exactly what I’d hoped for—and more. Seeing her like this, completely undone, was the kind of victory I could savor for a long, long time.

Nami groaned, her body pressed against the floor of the changing stall, her legs spread wide as Huge Dick relentlessly pounded her from behind. Her flushed cheek rested against the wooden floorboards, her tits swaying and jiggling freely with every thrust. The curtain covering the stall had slipped open slightly, leaving her head and chest exposed to anyone who cared to glance their way.

“Of course this is happening,” she muttered, shifting slightly to try and brace herself better. Her breasts swung heavily with the motion, her pale pink nipples brushing against the floorboards. Great, she thought, irritated. She was vaguely aware of the shopkeeper hovering nearby, his muffled footsteps betraying his flustered presence, and she knew this could easily draw the wrong kind of attention. But it was hard to care at the moment—she just hoped this didn't get back to the boys.

Every thrust from her fuckboy sent a shock through her body, her brain scrambling to keep up with the relentless rhythm. The way he drove into her—fast, hard, and unrelenting—had her biting her lip just to keep herself from making more noise.

She’d started this for one reason: a big-dickgasm.

Her well-developed treasure sense had hit jackpot this time. Her little fashion show had lured in a true whopper. She’d spotted the promising lump when he wandered in, confirmed her hunch when her butt brushed it during his dry-humping antics, and, to his credit, he’d had the rare good sense to whip it out and offer it up to her like a proper fuckboy should.

She’d felt it the moment he entered her, that rare sensation that only a select few women ever got to experience. And now, she was milking this rando for everything he was worth, just like she’d planned.

The big-dickgasm was over now.

That once-in-a-lifetime surge of pure, mind-numbing pleasure had come and gone, leaving her spent but somehow still eager for more. Her pussy, drenched in juices and stretched to its limit, was wide awake now, clenching and gripping with greedy enthusiasm. The sensations were raw, primal, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was loving every second.

If her brain had reluctantly acknowledged the universal truth that a big dick was a terrible thing to waste, her body had fully embraced it like gospel. Her pussy chewed down on him, wetter and tighter with every stroke, and her cervix seemed to be joining the party—sloppily kissing the fat, swollen tip of his cock every time he buried himself to the hilt.

She’d started this with a plan, but Huge Dick—true to his name—was no longer letting her call the shots. He’d taken control minutes ago, turning her body into his personal playground. He’d pinned her to the wall, her legs wrapped tightly around his back as he drove into her. He’d slapped her face with his cock, the massive, veiny length leaving a wet trail on her flushed cheeks before shoving it into her mouth.

She’d gagged and coughed, her throat straining as he pushed in deeper than she was used to. She hadn’t particularly liked that part, but it was normal for him to fuck her face. And, of course, it was just as normal when he’d slapped his big, hairy, smelly ballsack against her flushed cheeks afterward, smearing her skin with his sweat, and made her lick and suck them before he’d put it back in her pussy.

Irritating as it was, she’d done it, her sharp mind already thinking about what she’d take from this encounter to make it worthwhile.

Beside the orgasms, that is.

And now, here she was, face down, ass up, her slick pussy practically singing as another orgasm began to build inside her. Her body trembled as another wave of pleasure tore through her, her ass bouncing against his hips as she rode the edge of a climax. Her cervix kissed the tip of his cock again and again, like it was starving for him, and her pussy clenched so tightly around him that she could feel every pulse of his length.

Some of her past lovers hadn’t been able to make her cum at all, their short dicks and awkward fumbling leaving her frustrated and underwhelmed. But Huge Dick? He’d already made her cum again, and it hadn’t even been that long since they’d started. Sure, it was nothing like the big-dickgasm, but it was still leagues beyond what most men had managed to accomplish.

Her mind spun, caught between irritation and ecstasy. She didn’t want to like this, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction—but her body had made its decision. And that decision was to milk him for everything he was worth.