Rosie Cheeks Ch. 03: Night Life

She felt him... her dumptruck quaked with anticipation as he undressed himself. She looked backward, wanting to take in his form, but her view was obscured by her own ass. She saw beads of sweat trickling down her cheeks, combining together and maneuvering downward toward the junction between her butt and upper body.

She felt his gentle chuckle, and she sucked in as much air as she could muster as she felt his fully erect cock graze against one of her cheeks as he guided himself toward her inviting warmth. This was happening. She was here. Her hands gripped the futon, vying for whatever purchase they could find. Somehow being blind to everything behind her was a boon -- she closed her eyes and awaited the feeling of penetration.

"What happened to that cocky attitude?" Titus jested behind her. He lightly kneaded her doughy ass.

She exhaled, steeling herself, preparing herself. "I'm yours," she whispered.

With that, she felt his dick enter her, forceful and demanding. She yelped with more pleasure than pain as the walls of her pussy were forced apart, her eyes rolling backward immediately as he lifted her ass up further to allow himself a better angle. Titus struggled to lift the thing -- she was well and truly immense, and he was only able to drive his cock inside her thanks to the intense arch of her back. She moaned with ecstasy almost as soon as his head had passed inside, her arms giving out as her chest collapsed onto the futon. He sloooooooowly pressed himself further in, his hips pushing forward, every inch of his upper body making contact with some part of her titanic ass. He reached an arm around the top of each of her immense cheeks.

"H-HAH! Mmmm...MM!" Rosaline cried out as his tempo began to increase. Again and again, she felt herself widen as Titus found his stride. His dick was of an average size, and he showed off experience in wielding it as his torso clapped against the enormity of Rosaline's ass. Matchin his rhythm, they began to ripple and roll with recoil, running from his strokes, clapping against Rosaline's slender back, and returning to Titus to clap against him as well. They were endlessly moving with barely input from either one.

"Ah! Fuck..." Titus had to avert his eyes from the display. He compensated by further increasing his beat, pounding into her cheeks with increased momentum as her fat thighs spread yet farther to accommodate his girth.

"F-Fuuuuck me!" Rosaline was a woman possessed, arms slack, mouth wide open, lost in the plethora of sensation. "Fu-fuck... FUCK!"

"Christ! You have a mouth on you!" Titus laughed as he raised an arm, letting loose the wobbling adipose of her right cheeks as he brought it back down on her, wide hand meeting massive ass with a satisfying SMACK!

"SHIT!" Rosaline lost herself, driving her hips backward and catapulting her enormity straight into the lucky man behind her. Her ass knocked the wind out of him, but he persevered, cock pushing through mounds of tissue to find her inviting embrace. "Shit, SHIT! Ty... I'm gonna..."

Titus felt himself slip balls deep inside of her, her massive ass resting wholly on his upper body. Abandoning any illusion of control, he reached downward and plunged a thumb into her asshole. It swallowed his finger greedily, barely needing any force at all to force its way in. Rosaline bucked like an animal and felt every muscle in her body constrict as she began to orgasm, waves of pleasure spreading from her pelvis to every extremity she had to offer. She seized, unable to move, unable to resist Ty's assault of her womanhood, unable to suppress the torrent of sighs and wails that erupted from her like the roar of some feral beast. She impaled herself on his cock with incredible fervor, her modest tits emerging from their constraints from all the motion and joining the unstoppable wobbling from her immense body.

"Spank me!" She cried. She hadn't even though about it: the words just erupted from her without consideration, like they had been on the tip of her tongue all night.

The bartender spanked her again, and her cheeks reacted violently with recoil beyond anything the young man had ever laid his eyes on before. He was positively star struck.

"HAH! Harder! Puh-please!"

He obliged, delivering another, leaving a third cherry red handprint on her impossibly wide ass. And another. And another. She lapped up every one, caught between the joy of her muff swallowing every inch of her partner's cock and the punishment he inflicted upon her legendary rear. She seized, overtaken by the motion of her body, her fingernails scratching against the futon helplessly, her sandy blonde hair matting to her forehead with sweat. She'd had sex before -- short lived, pitiful experiences with ambitious boys and manipulators from her home town -- but nothing yet compared to the euphoric blend of pain and pleasure that robbed her of the control of her own massive body. Her asscheeks wobbled and leapt from their position on her pelvis, separating to briefly release their grip on Titus's arm up to his elbow and slam together, filling the simple little room with an applause that sounded fit for a stadium. The regularity of the claps actually began to hurt Titus's forearm as he slipped another two fingers into her gaping asshole, his other arm grasping her opposing cheek for dear life. Gasping for air, thrown off balance by the monumental weight of booty, he angled his hips downward and plunged into her with a rising motion, the impact forcing her own goliath hips upward and the new angle delivering an even sweeter friction to the myriad of feelings overloading Rosaline's brain.

She may as well have been on another planet, another plane of reality. She was gone to the world, her thoughts ceasing, existing only as a wobbling mass of pure sexual bliss. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, she drooled on the surface beneath her as she was fucked relentlessly, without pause. She wanted more -- NEEDED more. Autonomously she followed her body's momentum and forced her hips backward yet again, this time pushing her inviting asshole onto Titus's trapped hand. With little prompting it swallowed a fourth finger and engulfed his knuckles. His thumb resting on its outward bulge, the bartended kept himself from wincing as it inched its way back toward him, obscured, then revealed, then obscured again by torrents of jiggling white skin. Both of her orifices constricted around different parts of his body as another orgasm shot through her, her cry of ecstasy barely heard over the collisions of her meaty ass. Titus was being swallowed alive and was losing control, his hips and stomach barely breaking contact with the soft flesh ahead of him.

"Rosaline... I... I can't..."

She didn't hear him. How could she? He was disappearing into her ass crack, her mighty cheeks clenching like a vice around him, holding him in place. She had always done her best to ignore her ass, but as Titus was learning, it couldn't be ignored. It REFUSED to be ignored. It demanded attention, and violating, and grabs and cock and spanks, annunciating its point by obstructing the whole of her upper body at the angle he was having her. He obliged the monstrous thing as it suppressed the will of her upper body, her pussy quivering and twitching to the thrusts he could provide. He began moving his fingers that had been trapped in her asshole and relished in her wails, moans with an added urgency to them as yet another sensation rocked her body, barely audible as she was held hostage, pinned to the futon by her overwhelmed brain and the weight of her boat-sized yams. Their sweat mingled, their panting synchronized, and there was a moment -- just a moment -- where time stood still.

There was pressure -- the sweetest pressure either of them had either felt. Rosaline paused, propping her torso up with dainty hands as she regarded the wall before her blankly. She had just done so when a hand emerged from the tonnage of her asscrack and grabbed a handful of her wavy hair, pulling it backward and deepening the arch. Its unseen owner gasped out, and Rosaline felt the rapid removal of his pulsing cock from her insides as a hot liquid push itself through the might of her titanic asscheeks in exhausted spurts. She exhaled with her eyes suddenly facing the dirty ceiling, examining this new, painful sensation. It had the same flavor as being spanked -- there was an air of humiliation about it, of ownership. Rosaline's cheeks -- both the ones on her face and the massive globes of her ass -- became rosy with embarrassment as she came to a realization. That humiliation, that ownership... she... liked it?

Barely any of Titus's load managed to emerge from the cheeks it had been expelled into. He simply didn't have the force to ejaculate through the gargantuan barrier that was Rosaline's ass, reddened by both blush and smatterings of cherry handprints left lightly wiggling on its surface. She collapsed, and he did beside her, the two of them panting in exhaustion and twitching from their own aftershocks. They sat like that for a time, Rosaline on her stomach, Titus on his back, alone with their thoughts as they processed the union. Titus was roused from his statis upon hearing light, satisfied giggles.

Rosaline smirked at him. "You're... going to need to help me get those jeans back on."

He clapped a hand to his forehead, unable to contain a belly laugh that erupted without his control. "Of course."

"T-tomorrow?" Rosaline asked, a tinge of hope touching her voice.

"Tomorrow."

And before long, the two had dozed off.