Fast — the agile, low movement of a man who has made a decision and is executing it before the decision can be discussed, his body dropping from the seat to the floor in one smooth descent, his hands finding her before she could fully process the trajectory of his approach.
He twisted her.
Her boobs jiggled hard from the rotation — the full enormous weight of them swinging sideways as her body turned, the cum on them flicking in small arcs from the motion.
"WHAT THE HELL—"
She hit the floor.
Face down. Her boobs compressing against the wood and spreading outward on either side of her chest like two enormous pale cushions, the nipples pressing flat against the floor, her face turned sideways with her blonde hair covering half of it.
"What are you—"
His hands found her hips.
Lifted.
Her ass came up — the full enormous spread of it rising as her hips came off the floor, her knees bending under her, her face staying against the wood, her boobs now acting as the floor contact for her upper body, the two enormous masses pressed flat beneath her.
She was on her knees. Face down. Ass up.
Her thick ass cheeks spread from the position — the pale flesh of each enormous cheek on full display, the crack between them deep and dark, and at the base of it her anal: pink, tight, a small perfect pucker that clenched once as cool air hit it.
Her tail twitched.
"Wait—" Her voice was muffled against the floor. "Shouldn’t you go for the other—"
"I will."
He pressed his cock against her ass crack.
The shaft lying between the cheeks, the warmth of the two enormous masses closing around the length of him on either side, his balls resting against the base of her pussy from behind — the puffy lips warm and slick against the sac.
"I want this." His voice came from above her. Even. Direct. "The euphoria of fucking this ass first."
Her tail grabbed his cock.
The pink tip of it wrapping around the shaft below his hand — coiling, the same tail that had fed vitality through his balls — but this time the motion was different. Not feeding. Gripping. Dragging the head of his cock downward toward her anal, positioning it.
"You—" She turned her face more fully against the floor. "You absolute—"
He snapped.
His hips forward.
The head pressed against her anal — tight, impossibly tight, the pink pucker resisting with the full force of something that had never been breached, the pressure building as he pushed forward.
One inch.
"HAAHIIEENGH~!!"
Her whole ass jolted — both enormous cheeks clenching simultaneously, the flesh compressing around his shaft, the sound of the clap audible in the room.
Two inches.
"AAANGH — NNNGH — TOO MUCH—"
Three.
Her ass cheeks were bouncing.
Each thrust sending the enormous pale flesh clapping back against his hips, the sound of it sharp and wet in the apartment, each clap followed by the jiggle — the enormous weight of each cheek bouncing from the impact and then oscillating for a full second before settling for the next.
PAH—
"HAAAIYAANGH~!!"
His balls swung forward on each thrust and hit the base of her pussy from behind — the warm slap of the sac against her puffy lips, the contact making her hips jolt forward, the dual sensation of his cock in her anal and his balls hitting her pussy simultaneously overloading every available channel.
Her eyes rolled.
Face against the floor. Saliva running from the corner of her open mouth, her lips slack, her tongue pressing against the wood from the force of her sounds.
"OUNGH~!! — HNNGH — HAANGH~!!"
PAH— PAH—
He grabbed her blonde hair.
Both hands — the full grip at the roots, his fingers closing around the thick blonde strands and pulling her head back, her spine arching from the floor, her boobs dragging across the wood as her upper body lifted, the enormous masses of breast flesh scraping the floor as her back bent.
"NNIEENGHHT — AAANGH~!!"
Her face pointing at the ceiling from the hair-pull, her eyes still rolled, the saliva running freely from her open mouth, her tail lashing in the air with the chaotic motion of something that has lost its coordination.
PAH— PAH— PAAAH—
"HAAANGH — AAANGH — HAAAIYAANGH~~!!"
"Ah shit," he said.
His voice came out low and rough from above her.
His hips working without pausing, each thrust driving forward into the tightest thing he’d been inside all night, the grip of her anal around his shaft different from everything else — tighter, hotter, the walls with no natural give, simply receiving him by force.
"Now you’re a tight ass."
He smacked her ass cheek.
The full open-palm smack across the left cheek — the sound of flesh against flesh cutting through the apartment.
SMACK—
"HYAAK~!!"
The cheek bounced. Both of them bouncing from the impact, the ripple traveling through the fat of each enormous cheek in visible waves that hadn’t settled before the next thrust landed.
She screamed something.
It came out in the shape of words but arrived without consonants — a long, vowel-dominated cry that had the emotional content of a sentence and the structural integrity of none.
"AAANGH — I’LL — HNNGH — YOU—"
He smacked the other cheek.
SMACK—
"HAAHIIEENGH~!!"
Her hands scrambled against the floor.
Her fingers finding no purchase on the smooth wood, nails scraping, her body trying to move forward and his grip on her hair keeping her exactly where she was, the tug of it pulling her head back further, her throat exposed, her golden horns catching the lamplight from below.
PAH— PAH— PAAAH—
"AAANGH — HAAAANGH — NIEENGHHT~~!!"
"Cry louder," he said.
She did.
Not because he told her to — because her body had simply been doing this from the moment of entry and the instruction and the reality arrived at the same time.
"HAAAIYAANGH — AAANGH — HHHNN~!!"
His hips pounded harder.
The sound of it filling the apartment — flesh and wood and her cries and his breathing and the wet obscene percussion of his balls hitting her pussy on every thrust, the clap of his hips against her enormous ass cheeks constant now, the dual rhythm of the fuck and the bounce of her ass becoming a single continuous sound.
PAH— PAH— PAH— PAH—
"AAANGH~!! — OUNGH~!! — HHHNN~!! — HAANGH~!!"
He grabbed her hair harder.
Pulled her head back so far her face was fully skyward, her throat fully exposed, her golden eyes rolled toward the ceiling, her mouth wide open with the sounds pouring out of it freely and unmanaged.
He leaned over her back.
His mouth at her ear from above.
"How’s the euphoria," he said.
Her response was not a word.
It was the specific sound a demon makes when asked a question it cannot answer because every available neurological resource has been redirected.
He kept going.
PAH— PAH— PAAAH—
"HAAAIYAANGH — AAANGH — AAANGH~~!!"
Her ass was red.
Both cheeks — the pale skin flushed deep rose from the repeated impact of his hips, the slap marks from his hand still visible as slightly darker patches on the surface, the whole enormous spread of her ass bouncing with each thrust in a continuous jiggle that hadn’t settled since he started.
Her tail had stopped organizing itself.
It lashed behind them both with the random motion of something that had surrendered its motor function to the same overload running through its owner.
He didn’t stop.
PAH— PAH— PAH—
"HAAAANGH — NIEENGHHT — AAANGH~~!!"
Her boobs were taking the floor’s friction at this point — dragged back and forth against the wood as her body moved with his thrusts, the enormous masses of breast flesh warm and heavy against the floor, the elongated nipples dragging red marks across the skin of her chest that she was not currently in a position to be concerned about.
He smacked her ass again.
SMACK— SMACK—
"HYAAK — HAAHIIEENGH~!!"
"Tight-ass demon," he said.
She screamed his name.
"CRUXIUS~~♡♡~~ AaaaNnnGggHhhh~♡~~ y-your wife is enjoying the show~~ pftt~~♡"
She screamed his name and he heard it.
And then he heard something else.
A small sound. Behind him. The soft, involuntary sound of a woman pressing her thighs together very hard and not quite succeeding at making it silent.
He turned his head.
Soha was on the floor where the succubus had dropped her — still there, still limp from the earlier destruction, except she wasn’t limp anymore.
She was very much awake.
Her dark eyes wide and fixed on the two of them, her face carrying the expression of a woman who has been watching something for an indeterminate amount of time without meaning to and has been caught in the watching.
Her thighs were pressed together.
Hard. Both legs clamped against each other, her knees turned sideways, her whole lower body trying to close off information that her face was already broadcasting.
She looked at him.
Looked away immediately.