Ashley and Soup Thumb

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Ashley can't get no satisfaction.
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Ashley's bottom was soft and pliant under the graceless pressure of Soup Thumb's hand, and she fell quite silent when Thumb began to touch her there, her silence amounting, in his simple mind, to permission. In any case her pantied assflesh was so supple and alluring that Thumb could not resist his drive to possess the young ass fully once he came into contact with it, and he reached his hands around to her buttocks and squeezed them both firmly. He dug his fingers so hard into them, in fact, that the hapless Ashley squealed and bounced on her heels, not in pain but startled at how rudely Thumb was claiming her, without giving a single thought to her pride or privacy.

"Feel your butt," he said suavely. His groping, clumsy fingers played lightly over the goosepimpled flesh of her ass. He tested the fabric of her silk panties between his thumb and forefinger. The panties were smooth as cream, and their silver fabric shimmered in the room's light. As he toyed with the panties he rubbed her buttock, up and down. It was cool to the touch. She had been stripped of her jeans quite some time before and had been mostly nude from the waist down for more than an hour, her ass bare except for her underthings, unprotected from the room's chilly breezes. As he rubbed her ass vigorously it began to warm beneath his touch. Ashley obligingly leaned forward and propped her hands on the table in front of her. This allowed him better reach to her backside, and now that her ass stuck out a bit from the edge of the table its slopes and the crevasse between them formed an invitation to Thumb's swelling penis, and he decided then that he would pleasure himself on Ashley by stroking his cock in this fold between her buttocks until he squirted come on her silken panties. He had to deny himself the luxury of penetrating the young girl's body because his masters, and hers, had forbidden him from allowing her any pleasure in this encounter.

This was fine. He didn't care about her pleasure. He took firm hold of her asscheeks and pressed them together, delighting in the sight of her panties gathering and folding in the furrow between them. His breath began to quicken. Ashley lowered her head, the ends of her blonde hair tracing along her spine. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and her buttocks sidled slightly in the cradle of Thumb's greedy hands.

Thumb slid his hands up Ashley's slender back and reached around her ribs to cup her breasts in his palms. It surprised him how light they were, light and bouncy and tender; he knew that to squeeze them too hard would hurt her but to gently knead them made the tips of his fingers tingle. He pressed his pelvis against her ass, sidled the hard shaft of his cock into the meaty slope of one of her buttocks. He was so anxious now, impatient to shoot his sperm onto Ashley's soft, clean skin. He made a quick and undignified move to unsnap and unzip his jeans and pulled them down to his ankles while Ashley waited almost indifferently to bring him to the pinnacle of pleasure simply by giving her flesh passively to him. When he bent over to lower his jeans down his hirsute legs Thumb realized for the first time the magnitude of his good fortune, for here was Ashley's bottom directly in front of his face, jiggling slightly as she shifted her weight again. Her panties gathered in the fold of her ass, exposing past their hem a delicate tan line making its way diagonally along the slope of her bottomcheeks. They were beaded with perspiration from Thumb's palm. It was cool enough that portions of her bottom had broken out in gooseflesh. Thumb paused to poke his nose into the valley between her cheeks and deposit a few sniffs there: her ass smelled like perfume, floral. The satin of her panties was thin enough to expose a hint of the tan flesh beneath them. A wave of delirious pleasure momentarily crippled Thumb's brain at having Ashley's bottom fill his field of vision; he felt that her ass was the only thing in the world.

He ran his tongue along the peak of one of Ashley's buttocks. Her bottom was dry, he had to pull his tongue over her skin, but when he licked the same portion of her bottom again his spit had made it slick. He gripped her thighs and began to lick her bottom hungrily. He was angry with lust. He bit her at the middle of her buttock, where the flesh was most ample, and—liking the way she caught on her breath and let a high-pitched, helpless gasp—he kept a moderate pressure on for a few moments, gauging to ease or harden the force of the bite by listening to her quick, shallow breath, or measuring the trembling tension that rippled through her thighs. In this way he kept her at the edge of discomfort, and she did not move or resist.

"Do you like it when I bite you?" he asked her ass when he was done. "Do you want me to do it again?"

"No," Ashley said. "Please. It hurts."

A crimson sore the shape of a football, pocked with toothmarks, marred the surface of her ass. Thumb raised his mouth to it, and fumbled a moment to fit his teeth back into the marks that the had left. Then he bit her again, more gently this time, on the tender skin. Once more poor Ashley caught on her breath, and squirmed slightly to try and wiggle her bottom away from Thumb's petty torments.

"Do you like it when I bite you?" he asked. "Do you want me to do it again?"

"Y-yes?" Ashley stammered, unsure what response Thumb wanted. Thumb cupped her other buttock in his hand, moved his head to it while he pinched it to gather its flesh up, then gradually dug his teeth into the fresh asscheek. Just as the pressure began and intensified Ashley sighed in apprehension, then again she started and squirmed as pain rippled through her, blossomed across the soft surface of her bottom like a firestorm.

"Please," she said. Her fragility fascinated Thumb, her body's easy capacity to experience and tolerate pain, the thin fabric of her panties, the insubstantial softness of her limbs and the frail mewlings of her breath. His cock was so hard and unyielding it felt like it might burst in a froth of boiling steam. Such a pretty little flower, forced by her weakness and her beauty to trust a cruel and uncaring world, and unable to resist a villain like Thumb when his desires turned to her, a body stamped "victim."

"I don't know what you want me to say," she said at last, timidly.

"I'll do what I want. You can't stop me. What you want doesn't matter. I'll bite you if I want, just to show you that I can do anything to you."

"I can't stop you," said Ashley. "I can only ask you to be kind to me."

Thumb stood upright and gripped the base of his cock. He pressed his bare cock against Ashley's bottom, first lightly, relishing the cool silk of the panties and the way they caused a tingling in him. It was a tingling that intensified when he looked at her ass, or when he looked at the back of her head and imagined her round face turned up in a pout as she allowed him to use her for his own pleasure. She was so close. He leaned forward and smelled her blonde hair—it bore the punchy scent of shampoo and of perfume that had filtered up from her neck. He held a length of her hair against his lips as his cock swelled to fill the crack of her bottom, and her buttocks pressed warmly against the front of his hips. He looked down; his cock had vanished into her warm assfold, and her bottomcheeks wrinkled as he squeezed his pelvis against them. But when he thrust his pelvis forward the head of his cock peeked through the crest of her silver panties, accompanied by a shuddering wave of pleasure that stimulated his midsection like a kaleidoscope of kisses.

Thumb gripped Ashley's hips firmly and stroked his cock back and forth in the furrow of her ass with a quick rhythm. In a matter of seconds a tide of pleasure took him to another world, and he stared fixedly at the gentle countermotion of her bottomcheeks as his hips pressed against them then pulled away. Her panties rubbed at the tip of his penis with each stroke, near the small of her back, and the inside of her buttocks brought an easy, delicious friction against his dicksides. He cared about nothing but the feel of her ass against his penis. He pressed against her hard enough to force the fronts of her legs against the edge of the tabletop, but he liked this because it held her bottom fast. Semen swam in his testicles, rose pulsing through the shaft of his cock like thermometer mercury, getting higher with each pulse. Her breath quickened—not because of any pleasure she felt, but because of apprehension, of feeling the hardened knob pistoning between her bottomcheeks, and wondering how powerful the explosion would be when the pent-up desires shot from it.

"That's so good," Thumb groaned. "Such a stupid girl, such a pretty, soft butt." He worked his cock harder. "Such a soft butt," he said again, and smacked his lips. "Pretty butt, all mine."

"Please fuck me, Thumb," Ashley said simply. "Everyone toys with me, but no one will ever fuck me."

But Thumb ignored her; she looked so beautiful bent over the table, as though she bore a great weight on her shoulders, the burden of satisfying the desires of others while hers were left neglected, over and over again servicing countless men with her mouth, with her hands, and now with the shape of her body, as the need within her escalated beyond tolerance, beyond arousal, nymphomania, psychosis—but still she presented herself to him, cowed, with lowered head, faceless.

"Please fuck me."

But Thumb could imagine nothing worse than a moment's abatement of his pleasure, it had swept him away and robbed all of his control, he could not pause even long enough to strip Ashley of her panties and find his way inside of her...

"Please..."

"Pretty butt," he grunted, then his vision went and a volley of semen erupted from his cock. He hunkered down to burrow his organ in the fold of Ashley's ass and his hips twitched arrhythmically as he dampened the crotch of Ashley's panties with thick wads of sperm. Her soft, wet bottom. He moved his hips from side to side and rapidly thrust his cock back and forth against her smooth panties, ejecting every last dribble of sticky come onto her placid, waiting body. Her ass jiggled.

Finally he slowed. His cock was soaked in come, Ashley's bottom was dark with it. When he pulled away from her strings of sperm bubbled from her speckled ass. "Humping you is like squashing a bug," he said with delight.

"Fuck me," she said, knowing now that it was hopeless, that he had satisfied himself and would soon be limp. He massaged the clear cream into her bottomcheeks. The salty seafood smell of jism wafted in her nostrils. Maybe sometime Ashley would get fucked, but it would not be today.

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