An Agreement Gone Wrong Ch. 02

There was nothing like the tightness of a newly fucked hole!

Penetrating this place that wasn't meant to be touched brought an indescribable joy to Christie; it was like no other feeling in the world! She relished this sensation by slamming into it even harder, battering it forward, deeper and deeper into the woman's body. The futa could feel her insides stretch around her fleshy club, hugging her like a condom - or at least how she assumed a condom felt. They didn't make them big enough for someone like her after all!

Fucking into this part of a slut always brought an increase to Christie's precum production, like her endless, expanding cum factories knew where they were depositing their load. Her bitch breaker flexed, bouncing the woman on the seat as it shot more of its thick batter into her depths. Christie could feel the woman's skin around her shaft expand as it was filled, weighing it down. Pistoning into her again, the futa felt the bottom of her dick slide against the seat, rubbing against the leather through the pear-shaped whore's flesh.

Now that half of her cock, or close to it, had thundered into the woman, Christie was able to take her hand off her shaft and place it next to her other atop the vehicle; if she didn't hold her self steady while fucking someone, her cock was liable to bend or slip out as it made its way to a deep enough spot within them. Using the van as leverage, the futa started to actively plow into the woman. Leisurely at first, she rocked back and forth as she split the woman in two, casually fucking her with more force then the fat assed slut had ever experienced before.

But Christie was just getting started.

Growling as she did when she got serious about sex, Christie began to pick up her pace. She watched the woman's enormous booty jiggled faster and faster as she pounded into her, the giant globes shaking back and forth, practically spanking into the middle of her back on each thrust. If there was one time Christie wished her cock was smaller, it was now; the feeling of all that butt bouncing against her washboard abs while she was fucking the slut would have been heavenly! Despite this plight, she carried on, even as the van started to rock slightly from the power of her pussy pummeling.

As Christie sexually brutalized the unprepared brunette, occasionally laying open-palm smacks on her jello-like behind to emphasize her prowess, she tried to see the path her cock was taking in the woman. Sure she could feel how far her cock had burrowed into the slut's guts, but seeing it just added to her enjoyment. It didn't help that the woman was relatively flat-chested, so Christie couldn't even feel if she was battering at her tits yet! The shots of slimy sperm her spire spilled in the slut's swelling stomach didn't help the situation either.

The constant gasps and cries from the woman Christie was ravaging were quickly dying down. It was not that the woman wasn't feeling intense pleasure from being fucked like this, of that the futa was sure; it was more like her brain was overloaded from the unheard of rapture it was being put through. She was still moaning and her cunt was still non-stop convulsing around it's gigantic invader though, so at least Christie knew she hadn't killed her! Chuckling at the thought, the futa continued to hammer her hips towards the woman with increasing intensity.

By this point Christie was fucking the slut so hard she was practically holding onto the car just to make sure it didn't tip over! Looking down, the futa realized the woman's feet weren't on the ground anymore, her legs flailing helplessly in the air; it seemed like her weight was fully on the seat, and Christie's cock! Trying to peer around her reality-defying pole, the blonde futa saw that the back of the woman's legs were bruised from where her sperm-filled wrecking balls had been punching into them. That also explained the cold feeling on her balls whenever they swung forward.

No wonder the slut couldn't stand!

The slut's tight insides, the ever-present view of her jiggling, head-engulfing ass, the shaking back and forth of the car: eventually, all these things brought Christie to her own peak. Her pounding grew more irregular as her rhythm started to falter, her cock jutting the skin in the brunette's stomach out in random directions, nearly tearing the shirt she'd foregone taking off. The van was rattling at this point, it's tires bouncing in place, the suspension dipping when Christie leaned forward to try and shove however much more of her cock the woman could take into her womb. If Christie's tremendous testicles could pull up they would have, and they rumbled loudly, adding to the erotic cacophany that permeated through the supermarket parking lot.

Her last thrust pushed the vehicle onto two wheels, the driver side pair lifting into the air from the ridiculous strength Christie displayed in just her hip pivots; if she hadn't been holding onto it, it might have tipped all the way over! But she wasn't focused on that. What the futa was focused on, was her painfully distending urethra as a steaming hot blast of cum flew up it's length. She howled into the night as her cumslit gaped open, mirroring the cunt it was wrecking, and her orgasm truly began.

"Here it comes slut!"

The cum she had deposited in the slut's womb before was nothing compared to what was torrenting into her now. Like a firing cannon, Christie's cock visibly recoiled, flexing and nearly bending as it rocketed the first shot into the woman's body. A gasp rang out from the car as the bottom-heavy bitch was filled, her stomach inflating instantly and pushing her top up to her chin. Even from Christie's awkward, hunched-over-and-not-in-the-car view, she could see the woman's torso balloon out, smushing against the seat, quickly covering it with it's expanded mass.

Christie made small jerking movements as her cum exploded into the woman. She took her hands off the roof of the car, unknowingly leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal, and smacked them down onto the woman's ass. The pliable booty-flesh molded around the futa's grasping digits, her large fingers sinking into the tan mounds. Christie used these ass-handles to drag the stranger back and forth, using her brutalized cunt to jerk herself off. Her cock twitched as a new load shot up her cum tunnel, vibrating the woman's entire body.

When the woman's midsection bloated enough that the sides of her stomach touched the back of the driver's seat, the steering wheel, and her own chin at the same time, Christie decided to give the living onahole a break. The muscled giantess stepped back once more, the top half of her cum-slicked cock sliding free of the slut's ruined hole. Her prodigious pole popped out, pissing it's progeny over the woman's body and beyond; it covered her back with an ankle-thick beam of seed, before whitewashing the passenger's side window.

Before Christie even had a chance to get a handle on her virile volcano, the next eruption boomed from its mouth. It shot upward as her cock bucked, splattering against the ceiling, leaving a slimy trail from one end of the front of the van to the other. As she got her cock under control, that same blast continued, painting the far door until the entire thing was a wall of pearly sludge. As that shot petered out, it sprayed in an arc onto the front passenger's seat, leaving a puddle of boiling seed that would sure to surprise anyone who sat in it. When that stream began to subside, it ended on the woman's face-down head, matting her hair to her cheeks and the seat below her.

But that was only her second salvo!

Christie's cock continued it's liquid rampage. The prone slut was, of course, covered, enveloped completely in the futa's personal frosting; even her gigantic cheeks, which no man could even hope to cover a tenth of, were drenched. Christie had practically painted a new pair of pants on her! Her shirt was re-dyed a much more murky white, and the woman's tan skin was given a new, paler complexion. As always, she let her cock unload onto her partner until she was nothing more than a hill of sloshing frosting.

After that, Christie gave the interior of the woman's vehicle a personal makeover; her van was gonna be unrecognizable once her orgasm was done! The steering wheel was first, the horn blaring every time her pressurized cum hose hit it. Cum pooled in the footwell, covering the pedals. The slut wouldn't be able to turn her radio on anymore, Christie's sperm gluing every button and knob stiff. She wouldn't be able to see out of the front windshield or her rearview either, unless she was trying to admire the futa's gooey progeny. Some of her semen managed to fling into the back seats as well, an amount that was an afterthought for the futa that still made it look like the result of an orgy. If she wasn't so exposed, Christie would've given the outside of the vehicle a new paint job too!

By the time her climax had reached its end, the car was nothing more than a cum-trenched swamp. Semen poured from the open door, both from the vehicle itself and from the woman's gaped, dilapidated cunt. Christie stepped back as the waterfall of her ambrosia splashed into the parking lot. She stroked her cock as she watched the slut's unrecognizable body twitch, her ass inadvertently shaking, slinging cum around the air. Her monster pulsed at the sight, drooling cum onto the back of the woman's legs, as she watched the obscene display. Christie stepped forward.

She could always buy more protein powder later...

The door to the raised truck slammed as a muscled figure stepped out of it. Her blonde hair swayed in the night wind as she swaggered towards her house. Her uncovered package bounced against her massive legs as she walked, having never bothered to change her pants; besides, it was late enough that no one would be out to see her anyway! Well, that, and she had fucked every willing woman in the neighborhood after Melissa had let word get out about her experience. Christie briefly smiled at the thought before turning an eye to the street, noting sadly that her husband's car wasn't parked in its usual spot. He must still be at work.

She didn't know why he bothered at this point. Shortly after fucking her boss, Christie had coincidentally gotten a raise to a managerial position in her company, and was making more money than ever. She still showed up to work, enjoying having something to do besides fuck and workout all day, even if the former happened there too. But still, she could basically afford to support her and John with little issue now! The only reason he worked so much must've been to avoid her, she contemplated glumly.

And he had every reason too.

She hadn't... she hadn't meant for that next morning to go the way it had. After ravishing Raven all night, she'd fallen asleep on the couch, but still woke up at her usual time, which was always earlier than John. By the time she had started making herself coffee, that fucking homewrecking slut had waken up and crawled over to her, begging for more dick; and who was Christie to deny her such a request? But she'd forgotten. Forgotten something important. She'd forgotten that John's sister was supposed to come over that day to spend some quality time with them.

It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did! She was going to kick the slut out and clean up, wait for John to wake up, and talk to him. To try and gauge his feelings. To try and apologize. To try and make things work. But her libido had won out over her common sense, over her thoughts of her husband. When his sister walked in, always freely invited to do so, she had barged in on a scene of debauchery: Christie, crouched over the floor, angrily fucking Raven once again, her cum still caking the living room.

The memory of how things happened after that was still fuzzy. She knew they had fucked on the kitchen counter. She knew that somewhere in her lust-filled haze that she'd remembered to text John, some semblance of the rules still lurking in the back of her brain. She knew that when John walked in, she was so caught by surprise, she had treated it like the morning before - probably not the right reaction. And John's reaction... It was hard to describe how it made her feel. Some unholy mix of sorrow and arousal.

He ran away from her. At the time her impending orgasm was more important to her, and she wasn't in any kind of mind to try and sort out her feelings. She didn't see where he'd gone, all she saw was the wet stain on his pants and then his back as he scurried away. A door slammed somewhere in their home, and that was the last she'd seen of him that day. Christie went back to fucking his sister. She didn't chase him.

As it turned out, he'd run back into their bedroom, the bedroom Christie had just slouched into.

She sat on her side of the bed, not that they ever shared it at the same time these days. The mattress sagged under her naked, massive form, having shed her clothes once she had actually entered the empty house. Her cock hung down towards the carpeted floor, her cum-filled globes gurgling between her shins. The only thing she had brought with her was her phone, discarded casually next to her, the screen alight with messages from potential booty calls.

They'd both fucked up, but she'd fucked up even worse. She crossed a line she didn't ever intend to. It ate at her every day, especially since John never gave her a chance to apologize. He'd mastered avoiding her, only seeing each other in passing at the most. He stayed in the guest room a lot these days when he actually came home, but sometimes on those days she got lucky and would catch him when he was still sleeping. It was pathetic standing there, gazing longingly at his slumbering form. There was nothing more she wanted them to crawl under the blankets next to him. To wrap her arms around him. To hold him.

She missed him.

Here she was, torn between two lives - between two desires. She didn't want things to go back to how they were, repressing herself to a state of half-happiness. But she also didn't want to live how she did now, in a state of half-sadness. Being unable to unite her two worlds, John and her true self, was her biggest failing. Something had to change, she just didn't know if they could. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought. What was she even doing?

Her phone chimed next to her, a certain rare sound she hadn't heard it make in months. A bleary eye peaked from between her fingers, past a curtain of her blonde hair towards the device. A small jingle played from its speakers, one she'd set up when activity on her phone started to pick up - John's jingle. Her phone buzzed and rang so much, she was afraid of missing... anything from him, so she assigned a distinct song to his name; this was the first time it'd ever played on its own. She picked up her phone with a shaking hand.

His name flashed across the screen.

We need to talk.