"…Quiiinn! Quh-wiii-hiiiin…!"
Thump, thump, thump…
The long-suffering boy, who until that very moment had been blissfully busy painting a miniature, immediately froze at his desk, glaring at the wall in front of him. He stopped what he was doing, entirely, and drew a long, deep breath. Delicately, he set down his figurine, then his paintbrush. Folding his hands together overtop one another, he simply stared at the wall, deflated with a sigh, and waited, listening as the heavy, plodding footfalls of his stupid big sis came stomping up the stairs by leaps and bounds. As predicted, in the next instant she'd simply thrown his door open and burst into his space, his tall, chubby, purple-haired and scantily clad sibling rocketing inside and flapping around her oversized sweater sleeves with sheer, child-like excitement.
"Wheeee! They're finally gone, bro, we're home free!"
"Home free for what, stupid," Quinn bluntly demanded, spinning around to face her over his desk chair.
The withering glare he fixed her with didn't seem to discourage her, not in the slightest. The thick, curvaceous young woman, voluptuous like a plus-sized model-turned-porn queen, was smiling from ear to ear; eyes closed, she lazily bounced her loose, oversized hoody sleeves back and forth, rocking her huge hips in time with her hidden hands. "Mom n' daaaad are gooone," she cooed, using that drawn-out cutesy voice he found so cringe-worthy, "so you know what thaaat meeaans!"
Quinn rolled his eyes. "Oh, God-"
"We can do whaateeeverr we waaaant," she cooed through puckered lips, affecting a girlish tone before grinning, giggling.
Quinn sighed, hard. Brow furrowing, his eyes closed as he all but clapped a hand to his forehead, briefly leaving it over his eyes before groaning, hard. His hand messily slid down his face out of frustration before he'd fixed her with another glare, snapping "You're kidding, right? You seriously expect another handjob outta me after leaving me out to dry with mom n' dad? That's done."
Angel's dancing slowed to a stop, a confused noise creaking out of her. She didn't even bother opening her eyes.
Quinn: "When you played hooky, you told me you'd say something to mom and dad. You totally let me take the heat for that, they're still pissed at me!"
Angel flopped her arms back down to her sides, then held her hips through her oversized sleeves. She finally opened her eyes, again, and gave him a bit of a sleepy look, pouting her lips off to the side with frustration before containing a whiny growl to her throat. "Mmmmmgh. Don't be a meanie, Quinn! I'm sowwy, okayyy? I'll say somethin' when they get back tomorrow night, 'kayyy?"
"You promise," Quinn demanded, dropping his chin, lifting his eyebrows at her.
She smiled again, nodding hard enough to bounce her bright purple bangs across her eyebrows, the fluffy locks almost long enough to cover her eyes, now. "Yeah, yeah – for sure, for sure, I pwomise," she answered, at first sounding at least somewhat sincere before affecting her cutesy voice, again.
He pulled an unimpressed face at her. "Uh-huh," he dryly groaned. His eyes dropped to the bottom hem of her hoody, hanging a third of the way down her thighs like a built-in skirt. He groaned out "Angel, just…Urghh, are you even wearing any underwear, under that?"
She beamed, again nodding somewhat vigorously. "Uh-huh," she happily chirped back, "I'm wearing undies today, of course I am! See?"
She promptly lifted her sweater, pulling it up to her round, plump belly, unceremoniously exposing her…Surprisingly innocent choice of white cotton panties. Of course, the material was just the vaguest bit translucent thanks to some sweat, plus it looked at least one size too small; between the width of her childrearing hips and the stupendously gargantuan size of her fat, seam-busting junk, the panties had been stretched so thin, so narrow, that they ultimately functioned more like a thong. For crying out loud, the waistband was stretched down so low that it couldn't even cover her black, bushy pubes, and the basin was pulled out so taut across her mass of fuck-meat that it was a wonder her bloated, billiard ball-sized spunk reactors weren't already spilling out either side.
Hell, the seat to those panties was probably a lost cause, buried for all time between those giant, jelly-jiggling booty cheeks, locked away for eternity against her sweaty taint, her hole…Ew, right?
Lips twisting into a sneer, Quinn rolled his eyes and spun back around in his chair, facing the set-up of miniatures over his desk. "Pfft, yeah, whatever," he dismissed, "I doubt they'll even be staying on much longer, now that mom n' dad are gone."
He heard Angel giggle, voice swiftly approaching his rear. "Well, I didn't say how looong I'd be wearing undies for, hee-hee! Y'got me there," she tittered, right before latching onto his shoulders. He flinched, pulling a face. His lip nearly curled up, his pretty brown eyes going into their corners, into her direction. She'd bent over far enough to press the massive shape of her fuck off huge HH-cup sweater-puppies against the back of his chair, even dropping her head next to his, her chin just over his shoulder. He could smell her – and tried not to. She wrapped an arm around him well enough to point at his incomplete miniature, blurting out a dopey "Ooooh, lookit thaaat one! He's cuuute, he got any sexy lady elves on the sidelines? If not, you should totally paint his face all white like that last one, hee-hee!"
"Dang it, Angel, what do you want," Quinn demanded, pulling away from her, twisting in his chair to shoot her a sour glare. "If you're just here to bug me, if you're just here to pester me for a handjob, well, forget it. You can definitely kiss that goodbye, at least until you say something to mom n' dad!"
The way she stayed bent-over close to him left her tits hanging heavy against the chest of her hoody; the way she fluttered her big, thick, fake eyelashes at him and grinned that lip gloss-rimmed grin at him couldn't help but feel like a taunt to poor little Quinn, deepening the furrow in his brow and escalating the resentment in his glare. "Relaaax, lil' bro," she cooed, "I'm totally gonna say something to them, don't even wooorry about it – it's all handled! Besides, we can't do another porn-watching sesh yet, remember? We're all out of lube, remember?"
She blinked, glanced skyward, then grumbled a pouty "And we're out of rubbers…I guess. Even though they kinda suck. And kinda ruin the feeling. And that makin' messes is kinda fun, anyway."
"You know we need to wrap it up if we're at the computer," Quinn muttered, just a little sulkily. "You almost broke the keyboard, last time. We're just lucky I got on cleaning it when I did – even one minute later and it would've been fried, I bet. If it gets any worse, dad is for sure gonna suspect one of us is whackin' it at the family PC. You know they'd have a cow."
She stood back up straight, taking just enough of a step back for him to fully turn his desk chair, face her, and sit a little more comfortably. "Well, yeah, obviously," she breathed out, tone a hint sassy, eye roll left implied. She briefly pulled a face before descending into a long, noisy yawn, hands barely coming up for a covering of her mouth as she exhaled "So, y'know…We're just gonna…Get in a quick…Ah, hah…Mm…A quick shopping trip, first."
Quinn sighed, shoulders deflating. "You mean you want me to run out and buy you stuff – with my money," he dryly, bluntly pointed out.
Angel grinned, guiltily, but giggled utterly shamelessly. "Awww, c'moooon, Quinn! I'll totally pay you back, this time!"
He pulled a face, all but laughing at her. "Yeah right," he blurted out, "you and what money?"
"It'll just be a coupla things, your bank account won't even feel it," she eagerly promised, still grinning her head off. "C'mooon, please? I pwooomise, I won't ask you to buy aaaanything else, all weekend – all week, even!"
The short, skinny little boy with the androgynous face, a pair of enormous, womanly hips, and that big, thick, bounceable booty sighed without too much irritation, standing up from his desk chair with an only slightly sour look her way. "Alright, alright," he groaned, "but you better mean it, Angel. I don't want to have to spend any more on you this week, got it?"
She nodded, grinning, eyes closed. "Yaaayyyy," she placidly dragged out, voice a girlish singsong, "so sweet, woooww, my stepbrother 's so cool an' nice an' cute n' stuff!"
Quinn shut his eyes and tensed at the dreaded C-word, mouth a firm line, jaw tightly set. Drawing an inwards sigh, his eyes were annoyed slits as he made for his dresser. "…Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, "just get out so I can change into some outside clothes. Text me your list."
Angel promptly spun around, rapidly taking little bouncing steps towards his bedroom door, hands up by her sides and bouncing around her oversized sleeves. "Yaaayyyy, woowww, this weekend's gonna be wiiild," she happily sang on her way out.
Quinn's lips twisted, the femme-looking young man waiting until she'd shut his door before making any moves to undress. Unfortunately, it wasn't until after she'd shut his door that he thought to stand his ground and declare "I'm serious, by the way! Not one more thing, after this! And you owe me!"
He heard her voice through the door, the muffled noise suitably affirmatory. Sighing, shaking his head, Quinn started changing for his begrudging task, thumbs hooking into his comfy shorts and dragging them down his big, wide buns…
…
Halfway to the drugstore, Quinn's phone went off and, as expected, it was Angel's shopping list…And the longer his eyes scanned the list, the wider they got – until they started narrowing, his brow sinking deep. By the end, his eyes had widened all over again and he was urgently calling her up.
"Angel," he hissed into his phone, "you can't be serious-!"
"Ohh yeah, buster, you better believe it," she chirped back into his ear, tone a mix between cutesy and commanding, "this is our first weekend completely alone in weeks! No parents, no school, no work, no plans – you're crazy if you think I'm gonna waste this! We're gonna have, like, so much fun!"
Quinn sputtered, stammering out "Angel, you're crazy – some of this stuff is just…No! I won't do it! What kind of money do you think I even have-?!"
"Relaaaax – are you talking about the stuff from, eh heh, Love Shack? That's already been paid for, you just gotta, like, pick it up for me. I threw in the address, didn't I?"
Quinn froze, brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, already paid for? You bought them? With what money?"
She yawned. "Don't worry about it, just hurry on back," she cooed, "c'mon, we've got the house aaall to ourselves and you're waaasting it!"
His eyes almost bugged out. He sputtered before hanging up in a hurry, face red and contorted in frustration, embarrassment. He sucked air, growled a harsh "Mmmh" in his throat, and started marching up the sidewalk, again…
…
The diminutive boy did as he'd been asked, and in record time, too – more out of annoyance than eagerness, of course, but that didn't take away from the fact it'd gotten done. Every last item on the drugstore list had been accounted for: more fake eyelashes, a stick of glittery black lipstick, a bottle of iridescent blue nail polish, a fresh pack of heads for a women's brand of razor, a new bottle of facial cleanser, a fresh tube of Angel's jock itch cream, a glittery pink bath bomb, a whole heap of candy and chocolate bars, a Monster energy drink, a fresh box of XXXL-sized condoms, a cock ring and, last but certainly not least, not one but two bottles of lubricant. Angel had even specified these ones: "the fat red one," as she'd called it, "and the curvy purple one," recent favourites of hers.
The former was scented, flavoured like guava, more gel-based; the latter was neither scented nor edible and was instead oil-based, designed to heat up upon friction for extra stimulation. As per usual, the only available cashier wound up being a cute, twenty-something woman who'd frozen up upon seeing his order, then couldn't seem to make eye contact, anymore, or stop smiling. She'd sounded like she'd been holding back a laugh as she'd said goodbye and wished him a nice evening; his face had gone scarlet as he'd avoided her eyes and muttered goodbye under his breath.
Quinn had endured, sure, but the worst had yet to come. The next stop on his list was even more embarrassing: according to the list Angel'd provided, the Love Shack, a local adult accessories boutique, had a couple mail-order packages waiting for her to pick up. Quinn found it suspect that Angel hadn't specified what the packages were supposed to be but told himself that maybe it was better he didn't know; he'd never actually been inside the Love Shack, before, but he knew it by reputation and from local gossip. They said it was filthy, gross, the kind of place nobody wanted to be seen going into or coming out of, the kind of place where just being a raging pervert, alone, was almost like a mark of decency.
The kind of place where, if you knew the right person, you could probably score some drugs before heading into one of the cock-pulling booths in the back, turning on some hardcore porn, and gagging on anonymous dick through the secret gloryhole.
The kind of place you had your extreme sex toys mailed to because you knew they'd hold onto it until you could send your personal assistant to pick it up on the sly.
Quinn's belly was filled with tingles before he'd even entered the store; his face went balmy red as soon as he'd opened the door, stepped past the threshold, and smelled that very distinct combination of latex, lube, and sweat. As soon as he'd walked in, the heads of men twice his age and well below his standards swivelled over, their eyes conveniently lingering in his direction yet awkwardly avoiding his gaze…Or the opposite, staring until he happened to make eye contact with them, at which point they'd shoot him leering smiles and make red-faced Quinn avert his gaze. He wished he'd thought out his outfit, better; he knew how he must've looked, especially to this crowd.
In his white and pink sneakers, his black, booty-hugging yoga pants and hot pink crop top, with his face a bit prettied-up under invisible makeup and lip gloss, he must've looked exactly the sort to choke on nameless cocks before gargling what came out of them. How…Frustrating.
He didn't waste time turning to the cashier's corner; head down a bit, only sheepishly making the briefest of eye contact, he mumbled a hello before mentioning something about picking up his stepsister 's package. He didn't really hear himself speak, too preoccupied with the feeling of eyes boring into him from behind, of stares fixated on his hips; he could just imagine some of those dudes he'd seen, secretly groping their own crotches as they gaped and marvelled from afar his big, round bakery. The thought made his skin itch; they definitely didn't have the air conditioning on in this place, it was too warm and muggy, kind of…Musky.
Quinn uncontrollably trembled, a brief but intense surge of shakes coursing him from head to toe. His eyes only briefly flicked up in the direction of the tall, male cashier's eyes as he asked for Angel's name alongside some identification. Quinn didn't think twice about pulling his little wallet – a skinny, black, metallic thing – from inside the waistband to his contour-accentuating yoga pants, dropping Angel's full legal name before sliding his personal ID across the counter with his fingertips and long, professionally manicured, blue-painted nails. The steady smirk on the employee's face ensured Quinn's eyes stayed down and his face stayed hot; what made it worse was when the employee abruptly began announcing Angel's orders, rapidly rhyming them off.
"Ooookayy, let's see, here. Right, that order's the-"
Quinn's eyes subtly widened. His body froze. He couldn't possibly interrupt him, least not politely.
"-two pairs of Sweet Seductress brand body stockings in pink and purple, two pairs of Let 'em Breathe open crotch thongs, one jumbo-sized Rectal Re-Shaper butt plug with the prostate curvature design and deluxe self-heating feature, and one deluxe My Little Whore-ny brand, uh…Equine dildo, it looks like, almost twenty inches long with the optional fake cum recipe, ingredients, and squirting tube with hand pump."
"For all your deluxe squirting needs," someone muttered, somewhere behind Quinn – he was sure of it.
"That sound about right," the employee casually asked with an eyebrow raise, still smirking.
Quinn's heart thumped in his ears. "Oh, ffuh…Y-Yeah, that, uh…Sounds about right."
"For your stepsister , right," the employee almost chuckled.
Quinn's brow flicked downwards, and although his eyes rose, he didn't make eye contact. True to Angel's word, the things had been prepaid; once they'd been stuffed into a black shopping bag stamped in gold with the shop's logo, Quinn was hauling the entire payload back home…
…
"Ohhh my gawwwsh," Angel gushed, eyes widening.
Sucking a noisy, dramatic gasp, mouth falling open in a smile, her hands hovered over her cheeks, elbows helplessly pressing her huge tits together and perking them up beneath her too-big hoody. She couldn't tear her eyes away as Quinn flipped the shopping bags over, dumping out the entire haul of goodies he'd gotten for her – mostly on his dime, exclusively.
"Waoow, you got it all, yayyy," Angel tiredly sang out, head playfully bouncing from side to side.
Quinn huffed a sigh, blurting out a clipped "Yep, now I'm gonna get back to my painting, see ya-"
He turned to leave, but screeched to a stop as his elder sibling sucked a little gasp. "Whuhhhh," Angel moaned in confusion, looking at him from her bundled-up, blanket-covered spot over her bed. "You can't go anywhere yet, silly," she laughed, grinning, "we're gonna hang out all night!"
"Ohhh no, I never agreed to that," Quinn promptly snapped, nearly growling, whirling around to face her with frustration in his eyes.
It was lost on Angel, who just straightened her spine, pouted her lip, huffed a sulky sigh, and grabbed her hips – then broke out into a sudden smile. "C'moooon," she playfully whined, "I need help cumming, again! I don't wanna use 'em, they kinda suck, but we've, like, got condoms, now, riiight?"
He gave her a firm look, frowning, eyes unimpressed.
She shrugged her shoulders high, hands held palms-up by her shoulders. Giving him a look like he was the one being stupid, she remarked "Well? Aren't we gonna, like, break 'em in? C'mon, the computer's free all weekend!"
Quinn's frown intensified. "Angel-!"
…Six minutes and twelve seconds later…
Quinn rounded the corner into the living room, movements stiff, face already cherry red. God damn it, Angel.
His hands hovered together over his groin, the pear-shaped boy doing his best to cover up his exposed shame. Both his dainty little hands were needed just to completely cover up the limp shape of his flaccid, six-inch root, his bloated scrotum helplessly bulging past his fingers as he did his best to cup his balls, too.
Although his ass technically had some small measure of modesty thanks to the thong's seat wedged up tight between his cheeks like dental floss, the front was just completely exposed. He could've died.
Can you fucking imagine?! His big, dumb, lazy-ass stepsister , trying to see his puh…H-His pecker?!
She was no fucking better, of course. She hadn't pulled on a body stocking, but she had pulled on the matching purple thong – which, of course, was also open crotch, and she didn't give a fuck about covering herself up, of course. She just let it all hang out to breathe, her giant balls drooping like a pair of apples hanging heavy in her fleshy undercarriage, her flaccid member hanging heavy through the split in her underwear like an overstuffed seven-inch sausage, circumcised tip crowning the end like a fat, bulbous mushroom cap. Her pubic hair had grown thicker, longer, bushier; the untamed jungle of soft, black, curly little hairs crept around the thong, through it.
Impossible not to notice was her complete toplessness. She hadn't even pulled on a bra; it wasn't his first time catching sight of them in full, of course, but now was different.
Angel did a bouncy little happy-dance, twisting her hips and bouncing over the balls of her feet while flapping her hands around at chest-height, gasping out a reverent "Woooww, Quinn, you look so. Damn. Cute!"
His face burned, brow furrowed and stare resentful. "N-No," he urgently protested through his teeth, "I'm not cute! Don't call me cute! And stop looking, already – this is so humiliating!"
Angel giggled and waved him off, happily pouncing into the main computer chair, leaving the second, slightly off-center chair to him. "Sure, bro," she practically laughed him off, "whatever you say. I'm just, like, trying to keep it exciiiting, y'knooww? Like, I was just hoping we could keep it fresh, keep it fun! I mean, it's gonna suck using a condom, first of all, so we're, like…Already getting a handicap."
"Don't push your dang luck, Angel," Quinn simply commanded, hips wiggling as he walked his way over.
Their new purple bottle of lube had already been unsealed and set up at the computer, as had a single XXXL condom. While he pulled up Pornhub, Angel excitedly cooed out that she thought she knew what kind of porn she wanted to watch, tonight: curvy trans women fucking boys, cock-loving cumsluts, and maybe other futas, too, giving them sloppy toppy femdom action. With a guilty smile, she batted her long, fake eyelashes at him and mentioned she'd especially love some kind of rough face-fuck compilation, or really noisy and vocal cumshot compilations. She wanted to get edged, she wanted to get gooned, and she expected him to make it happen.
His limp cock felt hot all of a sudden, twitched around despite the way he'd tucked it and his balls beneath his shut thighs; he hesitated, feeling jittery as he typed her expectation into the website's search bar. She pointed out a video and he got it going on full screen, immediately covering the monitor corner-to-corner in flashing scenes of boys from the world over getting their face-holes tenderly fucked into a red, teary-eyed, slobbering and moaning mess, oftentimes jerking themselves silly to their own defilement, masturbating furiously to their own debasement. Quinn couldn't help watching the screen alongside his stepsister as he started tearing open her condom wrapper.
"Ooh, yeah, look at him take it deep. What a good boy," Angel breathed out, giggling her way into an earnest grin.
Quinn's ears burned as he continued with the near-routine process. Angel'd started swelling upon seeing the porn, eyes locked to the screen in rapt fascination; she barely even seemed to notice him or what he was doing as he leaned over, a little, towards her front, reaching into her lap with both hands as he set the rubber over her bulbous cock tip and casually started feeding it down her length. Unrolling it across her cock, trying not to whimper or squirm at the way it only seemed to grow faster as he manipulated it, he quietly listened as Angel innocently sighed "I wish we dressed like this more often, together…"
His mouth opened, then closed. He watched her face as he finished preparing her penis for her assisted masturbation session, gently tugging at the reservoir bubble to her condom.
"You're too cute not to dress sexy once in a while, liiiike…"
She sucked her teeth, eyes still glued to the femmed-out twink getting vigorously throat-swabbed across the screen.
"Lemme dress you up more," she weakly warbled, one of his hands wrapping around the middle of her twitching ten inches. She was so incredibly solid in his hand, so hard in his fist, so hot – and twitchy, throbbing and pulsing with her thumping heartbeat. "I keep thinking about us just, like, dressing sexier around the house, together, especially when mom n' dad are gone."
Quinn's lips twisted uncertainly. Quietly, his arm started pumping, delicately pulling at and stroking her wrapped-up manhood. Angel subtly tensed, then sighed a quiet "Haahhh," relaxing further back into the chair.
Her meat throbbed as she offered "I'd wear my body stocking, with you. We could, like…Wear them all weekend, together. Just chillin', prettied-up and femmed-out. Slutty and sexy and horny, together." She sighed, eyes briefly closing. "…Dicks just always hard and leaky, gooned out of our minds and edged-up," she dreamily exhaled, corners of her mouth lifting in a little smile.
Quinn's face briefly went long in shock before he'd simmered cherry red, lips twisting around. He never actually responded, maintaining a sheepish silence until, several long seconds later, Angel'd groaned in pleasure, and he'd considered the subject dropped. Thighs still pressed together, tucked cock and balls sealed underneath him against the seat of his chair, he focused on the increasingly familiar task, the chore, of only half-heartedly watching the mind-melting degeneracy of nonstop hardcore porn, essentially getting in an arm and shoulders workout in the process by periodically trading off dominant arms while cranking her giant, musky, hairy and veiny rubber-covered root. She squirmed over the chair as his pumping arms worked and manipulated her positively overgrown inseminator into edge after edge; Quinn's arms tired, in time, from the burden of lifting up, controlling, and manually pleasuring his stepsister 's prostate-masher to near-climax over and over again, but he never gave up, never stopped.
Sure, he complained, but he didn't stop. Every time she urgently grunted "Slow down," he obeyed.
The sheer heat coming from his stepsister 's positively colon-widening cock was incredible, veins pulsing against his palms as he came to two-fist Angel's just over ten solid inches of guts-rearranging fuck-stick. She started sweating, the fragrance surrounding them both; her black bush, creeping around her little open crotch thong like an overgrown forest, began to feel humid and damp against his hands. She'd started out limp as jelly, but as edge after edge had piled up, she'd twitched her way through steady waves of euphoria until she'd been left tensed-up, shivering. As per usual, his stepsister was vocal; Angel moaned and groaned as much as her heart wanted, as loudly as she wanted, huffing and puffing as she gripped her armrests, stared at the porn, and half savoured, half endured the relentless hyperstimulation of this forbidden little stepbrother goon sesh.
For nearly a full hour, all Quinn really heard was the sound of his arms pumping, his stepsister 's huge, musky balls constantly bouncing, flopping, and swinging around between her opened thighs as he beat off her dipstick for her, her vocalizations largely a never-ending stream of grunts, gasps, hisses, moans, and shuddering groans. For nearly an hour he worked his stepsister 's shaft, comforted in the way his own cock never inflated to more than a half-hard chub, never coming close to the full nine or so inches. Out of nowhere, Angel grunted for him to stop, but this time, she straight-up touched his hands, pawed at his hold, lifted them off – of her brain, really, when you got right down to it. Before he could get too confused, she ringed two fingers around the base of her pole, held it steady, and impatiently began dragging the condom back off it.
"Get this outta the way," Angel grunted, lips twisted, eyes glassy beneath her furrowed brow.
She threw it aside, sending it flopping somewhere unseen. As Quinn's hands came back in, wrapped back around her bare, purple-red meat, and resumed pumping, Angel belted out an even more enthusiastic moan, moaning the kind of horny-as-fuck, dying-to-breed moan she could never get away with while their parents were still home. Quinn's heart thumped away; nostrils blind to her scent, mind hazy and body on autopilot, Quinn's eyes went back and forth between the smut on the screen and this gargantuan beast of his stepsister 's he'd been tasked with getting off.
"Angel, we can't make messes," Quinn tried firmly reminding his stepsister before biting down on his lower lip, brow briefly furrowing in determination as he went into a burst of speed, biceps well-defined as he went back to only one fist on her cock, the other going down for a rough cupping of her tense, drawn-up pair of billiard balls.
"Uhhhng, hhhng, nnnngh, I knoooowwww," she harshly groaned out, tension mounting in her strawberry red face, eyelids flickering over glazed eyes struggling not to cross.
Her moaning got even louder, even more enthusiastic, even more full-throated and intense. Quinn couldn't help checking on her, watching her, gauging how close he brought her to the crest. She was soaked in sweat, flushed skin glossy with it from head to toe. Her incredible tits were just out there, nipples hard as rock and poking out well enough to put an eye out; her chubby tummy gently quivered and jiggled with each gasping breath. Her pubic hair was soft, damp, and tickly against his hands; she smelled like queens and goddesses should've. One of her arms came up, hand sliding behind her head and staying there, fingers sinking into her hair. "Spit on iiit," she suddenly begged in a hiss.
Immediately leading by example, she quickly tilted forwards, her glazed eyes briefly dropping to her own gooned-out dong. After a puckering of her lips and a noisy drooling, she'd spat onto the end of her own engorged meat; Quinn could feel the warm, sticky wetness roll down to his fingers. His face went uncertain, but then he, too, was leaning over, head over her lap, face above her meat.
"Ohhhhh yyyeeeessss," Angel euphorically gasped out, barely able to watch her boy little stepbrother pucker up and drool spit out onto her cock tip, a gentle moan – moan? – humming in his throat as he did it. He'd stopped his pumping as he did it, but he'd never stopped stroking his stepsister 's ball sack, gently rolling her hefty, bloated beanbag around in the palm of his hand. As soon as he'd finished spitting, her eyes had crossed and rolled back, eyes shutting as her brow sank in tension. Her other arm went up, that hand joining the first through long, fluffy locks, the two linking together behind her head as she basked in edged-out bliss.
Her moans hitched up, lips curling, tongue sticking out in an O-face so intense it simply had to be intentionally exaggerated; "I'm gonnnaaaa nuuuuuut," she croaked out through a throat tight with tension, followed by a harsh "Hhhhn" through clenched teeth.
That look on her face, though…She looked like she was enjoying herself, him. His meat flickered.
Quinn desperately pointed her up towards herself, and she reacted just as fast by falling back into her chair more, tilting it backwards even further. Quinn felt the veiny sausage tense a hint harder, urethral bump rising along the underside of her record-breaking dipstick – and then the fucking squirts started rapid-firing from the end of her hog, his stupid big sis' ridiculously thick, rich, aromatic ball-butter ejecting itself with force damn near akin to one's thumb over a faucet's spout. Essence d'Angel arced into the air like a hot, frothy milk fountain and came back down in huge, clingy splats across her tits and tummy, Angel moaning her damn head off all the while and panting like she'd just ran a marathon, squirming over the chair as she unloaded and wasted her syrupy lust all over herself.
Her cock didn't even soften up, but all the same, Quinn unhanded her. She reeked, now, with the pungent aroma of her own wickedly virile seed, the thick, curdled white running thin across her tits, down through her cleavage, and across her potbelly, the last few spitting dribbles and dregs leaking out across her still-throbbing prick, the dribbles spilling to her crotch. Eyes glassy, face still a balmy pink to his ears, he unhanded her weapon of ass destruction and groaned "There…Definitely needed that, I see…I'm gonna go wash my hands. You need a shower. Next time, the condom stays on."
Angel, eyes closed, had already begun the afterglow process of melting into jelly, remaining sunk back into the chair. She breathlessly laughed. "Noooooo," she whined, long and low…
------X------
"…Yeah bro, finally done it – finished painting the last of my minis last night," Quinn's friend happily announced, nodding proudly, "I'm finally all set for a war game! So hyped to try 'em out."
"Cool, nice," Quinn happily chimed in, the petite, lithe lil' boy having to tilt his head back, a little, just to look up at his two considerably taller friends. "I'm super psyched to try out my Elven Alliance against your Holy Sunburst Empire, dude!"
Quinn's other friend, Ludwig – a name he'd always gotten more than his fair share of teasing over – promptly grinned a little, lightly throwing one fist into the other. "Yeah man, sick," he agreed, "we can finally use the new terrain board I've set up in the basement. Yo – I just remembered, we should totally do it at my place, next weekend! My parents'll be gone, we can pull out the chips and crank up the mood music, it'll be cool! If Martin's down, too, we can do two separate fights – or even a two-versus-two! Aw, that'd be sick."
Quinn smiled broadly; he and his other friend, Jake, both happily remarked their agreement, glancing over as Quinn's home came into view just up the street.
It was a sunny Sunday morning, not a breeze to be felt. Each of the trio were carrying their own little white shopping bag from the same hobby shop; Quinn's two college friends couldn't have looked more different from him, but when it came to each other, they were clearly cut from the same cloth. Jake and Ludwig were both tall, painfully nerdy-looking, and somewhat lanky, and while the skinniness was a superficial quality Quinn shared, they were both built much more…Traditionally masculinely than huge-hipped, soft-faced, fat-bootied boy Quinn, with broader shoulders, more boyish haircuts, and much plainer, more manly clothing.
They walked like men, talked like men. Quinn, on the other hand…
He'd turned heads at the hobby shop, but then, that wasn't unusual. Quinn'd gotten used to the reactions he typically received in those spaces a long, long time ago, but getting used to something and liking something were two very different things, he'd feel compelled to point out.
He knew how he looked. He knew he was somebody's wet dream. It made the stern boy cringe.
His friends, though, were different. They didn't look at him, that way. They made eye contact.
As they reached Quinn's home, he nodded his head towards the empty driveway. Warmly, he announced "Well, this is me, guys. Thanks for heading out to J&J's with me, I've been meaning to buy a new Bellem for a while, now, but it's been tricky finding the time to actually head out there around school and work."
"Oh, yeah, for sure, Quinn," Jake agreed, nodding, smiling. "I needed new paint, anyway."
"Absolutely, man," Ludwig chimed in, "I'd been meaning to check their comics, this was fun."
"I know it was short notice," Quinn further apologized, smiling ruefully as they slowed to a stop.
"No, no," they were both quick to start saying, waving him off, still in the middle of reassuring him it'd been a fun time for all involved when they all abruptly heard somebody's front door being noisily unlocked and yanked opened. None of them bothered to look over until said door had loudly been thrown shut, again. Right as they turned their heads to look, Angel called.
"Quiii-hiiinn! Yooo-hoooo!"
Quinn grimaced, hard. "Oh, no-"
Angel's flip-flops noisily clipped and clapped against the porch and paved driveway as she eagerly made her way towards them all, moving with an energy, an enthusiasm almost unusual for the chubby, chronically lazy young woman. Quinn's big stepsister looked like peak bed rot, as it were, with her big, long head of purple hair pulled up high into a thick, fluffy ponytail with a soft, pink scrunchie and only the bare essentials on her body: a comfy green sweater and a black pair of barely-there booty shorts that showed off her whole legs, crotch-down. She, like him, had only put on some light makeup, for the morning; lip gloss made her pouty DSL shine while eyeliner ringed her pretty brown eyes, emphasizing the honey-like hue in her innocent, carefree gaze.
Ponytail swinging, waving with both hands, laughing a little, she seemed oblivious to the way everyone could see her thick thighs wiggling, could see the way she obviously wasn't wearing a bra by the dramatic, exaggerated way her huge, HH-cup bazongas helplessly bounced around inside her sweater, her melons throwing around the stretched-out fabric at the chest like a couple of trapped bowling balls. The one saving grace to her comfy, casual get-up was how the black colour to her booty shorts helped minimize, somewhat, the gargantuan size to her overgrown package, but it couldn't hope to completely disguise it, not at the sizes they came at in their family, no sir. Like it or not, the crotch to Angel's shorts was a laughably obvious bulge, round and plump enough to jiggle n' jostle just like the rest of her juicy thickness.
Stuffed sock? Unlikely. Jaws dropped.
Quinn broke away from his buddies, trying to meet Angel halfway, hands drifting up to gesture for his stepsister to halt, but she was already sticking an arm straight up into the air, grinning with child-like glee as she flapped her fingers in a chipper hello.
"Angel-"
"Heyyyy, hiiii, you guys-!"
Quinn tried to stand in her way, tried to hiss her name again, but she did the craziest thing: she didn't side-step him, she certainly didn't stop, she merely threw her arm around his shoulder, spun him around, hugged the side of his head to her chest, and practically dragged him alongside herself, all but forcing her little stepbrother to hurry at her side in a little face-to-tit headlock.
"I've never met either of you two guys," Angel excitedly announced, smiling ear to ear.
Quinn's face was swiftly flushing from agitated pink to a more embarrassed shade of scarlet, which he internally insisted was solely because of her hold around his neck. He could see the way Jake and Ludwig were looking at her, already…And just couldn't blame them.
"Quinn almost never lets me meet his friends," Angel explained, nearly whining it, all pouted lips and sad eyes.
"That's insane," Jake innocently commented, smiling and shaking his head. "Wow."
"Can you imagine," Ludwig dryly joked – and Quinn couldn't tell if it was aimed at him or Angel.
"Rghh, go back inside, Angel, we were just saying goodbye," Quinn frustratedly protested, trying to wriggle free.
Angel held him fast, more overtly forcing his face into the side of her left tit, all but crushing her little stepbrother's face into her sweater-stretching bust – a move he struggled against and loudly, angrily protested, voice muffled into obscurity by the soft, squishy mountain she clutched him to. He could still hear perfectly well, however, and had no choice but to listen as the conversation continued apace without him: "Y'know, we were just thinking, like, the other day how none of us have ever, like, been to Quinn's place," Jake casually revealed.
"Yeah, don't you guys have, like, a whole extra living room you guys never use, or something," Ludwig further pointed out. With a smack of his lips, he all but laughed "Well, I think this settles it: we have got to hold a tourney at Quinn's place, sometime."
"Totally, dude," Jake chimed back in.
Angel just laughed like she was flattered, but Quinn finally managed to slip his head back out through Angel's arm – only for her to grab him around his shoulders again, keeping him side-by-side with her, even going so far as to reach over with her free hand and rest her palm against his chest. "Wow, like, for those lil' figurinies he likes painting," she asked, rubbing a circle around the middle of Quinn's chest with a surprisingly delicate, dare he say even intimate touch. "You'd wanna, like, come over n' play your lil' war-fighty games?"
Quinn's friends nodded; he could see the way they were looking at Angel, could feel the change in the foursome's vibe. Whether or not Angel noticed the same things was irrelevant to him.
"I mean, like, I don't have any problem with it," Angel innocently cooed, briefly gesturing towards the center of her chest with her free hand, dipping her sweater that much more into her cleavage.
"Alright, g'bye, guys," Quinn tried announcing, trying to be clipped and stern about it.
Angel kept rubbing at his chest as she softly whined with confusion, looking over at him. "What's the matter, bro, introduce me to your frriieeends, like, I don't even know their naaames yet," she passively protested.
"Yeah, Quinn, how come you never told us about your stepsister, before," Ludwig remarked, smirking.
When Angel's fingertips brushed across one of his nipples through his tank top, Quinn's eyes widened. In the next instant, he'd wormed himself free; grabbing the hand she'd kept over his shoulder, he ducked his head, spun around, and promptly yanked Angel's arm behind himself as he veritably dragged her towards their front door. "Let's go, Angel," he ordered, "inside, now."
Angel lurched after her little stepbrother, stumbling in her flip-flops. "Oh, uh – okay, well, g'bye, guys," she eagerly called back, waving over her shoulder.
Quinn heard his buddies call back, saying goodbye – to her. As soon as he'd gotten Angel inside, he was shutting and locking the front door, fixing her with a sulky, glaring glower. "What're you doing, Angel," he demanded, pouting uncontrollably.
Angel froze, a second. "…What'd I do," she innocently asked, smiling more with confusion.
Quinn's brow knit, lips twisting. Hands finding his curvy hips, he tried his best to maintain a stern, steady tone of voice as he pointed out "Ever since we started…Doin' stuff, you've been getting way more…Touchy-feely."
"Huhh," Angel mumble-whined, looking legitimately confused, maybe even hurt.
Quinn crossed his arms, partially turning away from her, still sulking with his bottom lip pouting. "Ever since I started helping you…Get relief, you've been getting overly affectionate, Angel, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! I don't like PDAs! Like, all last night you had me watch movies with you in your bed – and for some reason, I had to sit in your lap, half the time!"
Angel only briefly grinned, eyes flicking skyward. She briefly held her hands together behind her back, playfully twisting her hips like the misbehaving, unapologetic brat she was.
"Soon as you figured out I was awake, you wanted me to spend the whole morning chilling in your bed, too! That was part of the whole reason why I even wanted to get out of the house, so early!"
Angel looked confused; the young woman's thick lips twisting into a bewildered smile, she innocently pointed out "But that's not public?"
Quinn momentarily closed his eyes, frowning immensely as he drew a deep, slow breath, just as slowly exhaling before fixing her with an unimpressed stare. He raised his eyebrows, as if to say "Really?"
Angel grinned, fidgeting in place. "C'mon, Quinny-winny, you're being meeeaan," she quietly whined. "I don't understand, is this just 'cause I touched your nip in front of your friends?"
"We're stepbrother and stepsister," Quinn sternly reminded her with arched eyebrows, all but stamping his foot out of annoyance. "You can't do that, they might've seen!"
Angel suddenly smiled and laughed, turning her head and only slowly running a hand through her ponytail before throwing it around, fluffing it up. She quietly sucked her teeth, arching her eyebrows, smiling all too knowingly as she checked her nails.
"What," Quinn demanded.
As if on cue, Angel's cell phone started buzzing; pulling it from the waistband of her shorts, she hurriedly explained "Oh, nothin', just, y'know, I don't think it would've made them uncomfortable, like, I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't already thinkin' it. I mean, they had "horny energy" aaaalll over 'em."
Quinn did a double take. "Wh…What? That's not-"
"Shh – it's mom n' dad," she urgently explained, "they're video calling-"
"W-What," Quinn repeated – right before Angel'd grabbed him close again, hugging him tight against herself with the one arm while bringing up her phone with the other, hovering the blindingly bright screen around face-level for them both. He didn't bother resisting, this time – much.
"Hiiii, guuuys," Angel happily greeted as soon as the call had connected, grinning cheerily with Quinn's head hugged close to her chest, his cheek smooshed to her collarbone.
Quinn did his best to look over at the screen; his parents were both in frame, both looking pleasantly…Confused. He couldn't blame them. In the corner of the screen, he could see what they saw: all their parents could really see was Angel's bright eyes and cheery grin, some of her sweater and purple ponytail, and most of his face, busy pressed to her sweater awfully deep in his stepsister's personal space.
"You caught us at a great time, Quinn was just getting back from his lil' hobby shop or whatever," Angel freely revealed. "You guys still gonna be back home, later?"
"Yeah," their father confirmed, voice a hint distant from the phone, "we can't talk long, we just wanted to let you two know we'll probably be back a little late. We're still planning on being back home tonight, though, so don't go thinking you can stay up all night, now. You've both got classes, tomorrow. If you're still up when we get home, we won't be impressed."
"It's so cute seeing you two getting close," their mother chimed in, "I haven't seen you two be friendly like this in years, now, I think." Quinn could hear the way she smiled.
Angel squeaked a happy, humming laugh before planting a quick kiss overtop Quinn's head, right in plain view of the phone; he froze, eyes subtly widening, but his parents didn't react. "Yeah, isn't it nice," she coyly agreed. "I mean, I think I still, like, annooyy him, but we're mellowing out!"
"Anyway, that's all, you two," their father curtly announced, "just wanted to keep you in the loop. Alright, see y'later."
"Buh-byeee," she was quick to respond – and as she tapped the End Call button, Quinn again pried himself from her possessive embrace. He fixed her with another glare.
"What was that," he demanded. "Right in front of mom n' dad?! Angel, you're going too far!"
"Oh, pssh," Angel scoffed, rolling her eyes with a little grin, "unlike your, uhh, "friends," mom n' dad don't know nothin'."
Quinn blinked. "W…What?"
Her grin grew. "Nothing! Did I tell you how cute your outfit is, today? Really nice."
Quinn blinked harder. "Oh, uh – no, you…Heyyy, wait a second, don't call me cute!"
Angel started grinning from ear to ear, one hand openly starting to cup and fondle the bulging crotch to her own shorts. She didn't seem to have heard him. "In fact," she slowly said…
Quinn's face fell. "Oh, no-"
"Do you think maybe we could get in another porno sesh, now that you're back?"
Quinn fixed her with a withering stare.
Angel pouted her lips. "I haven't shot rope all moooorning," she whined, "my bwaaalls are gonna bwuuust! Pweease, you're my bwother, you've gotta help me!"
Quinn's stare became a full-on glare. "Angel, you just embarrassed me in front of my friends and mom n' dad – do you really think you're gonna squeeze another handjob outta me?! I said that that was all done! What makes you think you could possibly convince me to take back my word?!"
Angel grinned. "Wwweeeellll," she slowly uttered…
…Eight minutes and twelve seconds later…
Quinn sighed hard enough to deflate.
Here we go again: porn opened on the family computer screen, Angel and he both had an XXXL condom, silicone cock ring, and bottle of lube all conspicuously perched just next to the keyboard. In the event things went on for a while, there was a cup of water to slake Angel's thirst. Their chairs were pulled right next to each other's; Quinn, as the Porno MC, had his chair pulled just a little closer towards the keyboard and mouse, whereas Angel, the designated Lazy-Ass Pornosexual Goon-Slut, was inched back just a little bit more than him, giving her room to recline back into her chair and stretch out her legs. If the accessories they'd brought to the family computer didn't give away what they were about to do, the get-ups they'd both put on would've made it undeniable: stepbrother and stepsister were freaky.
"Yaayyy, it's Tuggy Time," Angel happily cooed, delicately clapping the ends of her fingers together, playfully bouncing a little over her own big, fat, dump truck of an ass. Her choice of wording made Quinn cringe, hard.
"God…I gave in too damn quickly," he muttered under his breath. Leaned forward and a little towards her, reaching across Angel's lap for the computer mouse, he looked over his shoulder in her direction as he added a cool "Don't forget, the only reason I'm even doing this is 'cause you promised to put on the other body stocking."
He scrolled through Pornhub's long page of porn categories, idly questioning "…So, you know what you wanna look at, this time? More of the same from last time? Seemed to be doing it for you."
"Mmm…Why don't you put on something you like," Angel curiously suggested.
Quinn froze, a second. He didn't look over his shoulder, simply giving a rapid shake with his head. "Not a chance, stupid," he immediately shut down, "don't push your luck, you're lucky I'm even doing this!"
He heard her give a little whine. "…More of the same, then, I guess," she agreed.
He nodded, ignoring the flutter in his stomach, ignoring the warmth at his groin. He'd been doing everything he could to ignore the fact that it wasn't even noon, yet, and he was already stuck giving her a handjob! When he clicked on the hour-long porn compilation, however, he was reminded in the black, glassy reflectiveness of the screen: Angel was done-up with full faces of makeup with foundation and fake eyelashes, heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow, lipstick and blush, both wearing crotchless, largely assless lace body stockings, both wearing open-crotch thongs that framed and displayed the siblings' enormous cocks. Even flaccid, they had breathtaking hangs to them; Angel's hairy, circumcised bitch-breaker was bigger than her little stepbrother's, but Quinn's smooth-shaven, uncut prick was no shrimp slouch.
It was just a routine to Quinn, now: porn goes on, his hand to her meat, up n' down awhile, then clean-up. Only things different about this time was how he wanted to insist Angel keep her condom on, this time, and how they had fresh lube for him to massage his stepsister's fat monster-cock with – not to mention a snug cock ring he could fit around her base, if she insisted. It'd been her perverted idea, to begin with; he didn't really care one way or the other, so long as she shot rope and it was over. To his frustration, however, to his simmering annoyance, even after a whole fifteen to twenty minutes of impotently rubbing and tugging at her long, fat root, trying to kickstart her motor, the most he'd managed to get out of her was the weakest flicker of growth. Not even the lube helped.
He kept pumping her seven meaty, flaccid inches of lubed-up fuck-meat as he huffed a terse sigh. "What's wrong, Angel," he asked with a look over at her, his patience surprising even himself.
"I dunno," she cooed in her cutesy, babyish tone, lips twisting as she shot him what amounted to a remorseful look. "I'm twyin', hooonest, but it's just not wooorking…"
"Is there something better you'd rather watch," he asked, his curiosity ironically innocent.
Her uncertain grimace was just as surreally honest. "I dunno, I don't tink so," she mumbled in her cutesy voice.
There was a second's pause before she'd started puckering her lips off to the side, eyes finding his.
He silently sighed through his mouth. Eyes hardening with suspicion, he slowly asked "What?"
"No, no-"
"Angel-"
She smiled, already looking guilty. "I can't, I couldn't," she bashfully protested.
His eyes went half-closed, unimpressed. "Well, obviously you want to if you brought it up," he pointed out, not taking any of her bullshit even as he kept holding her fat, fuzzy, lube-slippery, musky-smelling hog. "Just freakin' out with it."
Angel's eyes were steady on his, but the more the words tumbled out of her mouth, the more her face split itself into an enormous shit-eating grin. Using her cutesy little voice again, she guiltily suggested "Well, okaaayy…I jus' don't really know if hands are good enough, anymore…"
"But I lubed it up," Quinn pointed out, tone subtly sulky. "Don't you like this stuff?"
"I do, but…I dunno, it's just not working," she whined.
Quinn sighed. "Well, we're not stopping," he reminded her, "if we don't do this now, you're just going to want it even more badly, later on."
"Do you think," Angel started, briefly trailing off before finishing her thought. "…Do you think we could, like…Maybe do more than hands?"
Quinn's face fell before his eyes started widening, noisily sucking a gasp as his mouth fell open-
Angel immediately planted a hand over his mouth. Wincing, pouting her lips and looking extra contrite, she quickly, quietly begged "Please, please, please! Pweeaase! Pwease, lil' bro, I swear, this will just be a one-time thing, I'll never ask you to do it again! I'll tell mom n' dad about how I stayed home and none of it was your fault, I'll pay you back for all the things you've bought me in the last month, I-I'll even take the heat for gunking up the keyboard! I'll buy you McDonald's and all the miniatures you want! Pwease, I'd never ask if I didn't think it'd work – and my balls are screamin', lil' bro, they're churning, I just…Can't get it out on my own. Don't let me suffer!"
Quinn never brushed away her hand. The longer she went on for, the more his glare slowly softened. Finally, she dropped her hand, revealing the disgusted little frown his lips were still puckered into. He sighed through his nose before, almost under his breath, muttering "…Only if you promise, Angel, and I really mean it."
"I pwomise," she begged, clapping her hands together, praying at him with puckered-up lips.
"…Fine, but let me wash it off," Quinn begrudgingly mumbled, "this isn't the edible lube-"
"Buuut Quiii-hiiin," Angel whined, dramatically hanging her head back, "I need to cuuuummm, like, nooowwww!"
Quinn hesitated, mouth barely hanging open. He turned his chair to face her more, his knees by her left one; he looked down at her crotch, eyeing the obscenely big, fat frankfurter his stepsister called a baby-maker, the billiard ball-sized nuts loose and heavy in her smooth, hairless beanbag. Her circumcised cock, at least, was all shiny with the oil-based lube.
"Just don't swallow," Angel tried offering. "O-Or deepthroating," she added as an afterthought.
Quinn's lips twisted; he found his throat feeling dry, so he swallowed his spit, but that only left his mouth feeling dry, instead. "…O-Okay, but only…Only 'cause I'm too damn nice to you."
"You are, you really are, I swear, I'm so dang lucky to have such a nice little stepbrother!"
Quinn could finally feel life stirring in her root; the anticipation was finally waking her meat up, swelling the slippery thing in his hand. He found his heart thumping; somehow, before he'd even noticed, his breathing had started quickening. He held Angel near her tip with the one hand, supporting himself against her thigh with the other; the deeper he leaned into his big stepsister's lap, the faster his heart pounded. His breaths came in quick, short huffs through his mouth; his head spun, eyes glazing over and brain fogging up as the raw smell of her musk at first overpowered him before leaving him nose blind. The perfume of the lube helped cover the subtly sweaty, concentrated Aroma d'Angel, but not by much.
Quinn started shaking and couldn't stop; the mushroom tip to her slowly growing hog was maybe an inch from his prettied-up, femmed-out face and lipstick-covered lips. He found his mind remarkably empty; it helped not to think about it, helped keep him and his ignored cock calm.
"Pwease – you're so nice to me," Angel begged, softly panting, "I can't do this withoouut you, I'm sowwy, I know I'm asking a lot, but…But you're so sweeeet to me, I just need it, I wouldn't ask just anyone!"
When had his face gotten so hot? Even his ears felt hot – that's what'd tipped him off, in the first place. "I'm so nice to you," he whispered, just before taking the plunge.
His mind went blank almost instantly. He knew it'd help not to think about it. He focused on his breathing, doing his best not to listen to her moaning and gasping no matter how loudly she made him hear it. She couldn't stop repeating herself about how good it felt, about how lucky she was, about how she couldn't believe he was actually sucking on her hard cock, yadda yadda yadda – in his mind, he may as well have been sucking a massive, salty popsicle hotter than his ringed lips. In his mind, he was at his desk painting his newest miniatures – and then, out of nowhere, it was suddenly over.
Angel, voice rising in pitch: "OhhhhhgawwwdI'mgonnashoot-!"
Quinn – huffing and puffing and already spitting out the oily lube that's been left coating the inside of his mouth – threw himself back up into a sitting position and, thinking fast, grabbed the cup of water over the computer desk, brought it to Angel's cock, and pointed her down into it as well as he could, all but dunking the head of her cock into the water before she'd started shooting. She started shaking and moaning like it was a strong one, face contorting in blissed-out intensity, urgently sitting up and holding onto the glass cup alongside him as he beat her off into it, stroking her off as her wads splashed the water over the cup's rim. As soon as she'd taken over the cup, he let go of her cock, leaving her quietly gasping and panting, perched over her big, fat, squishy ass as she unloaded into the water, letting it catch her cum.
Quinn immediately got up from his chair, marching for the upstairs staircase on his way to the shower, hands clutching his crotch and shielding himself as best he could. "That's it, we're done – hope it was worth it," Quinn spat, figuratively and literally – he couldn't purge the taste of oily lube from his filthy mouth!
"Noooooo," she groaned behind him.
He just ignored her. He didn't think about what he'd just done – he couldn't.
His cock, however, couldn't forget, not until the half-hour long shower had run its course…
------X------