Suburbia

The important thing to remember about Tambi is that she is not a good person. She may not be a monster or a villain or some sort of cartoon villain, but she was certainly not good. She tried to be nice and helpful, she helped out her friends, she donated to charities that she felt would do the most good, and she had a soft spot for taking care of stray animals. But it's easy to do good things and still be bad.

Sunday mornings were her favorite days to run. She was not religious, not that Sunday mornings were the only times that religious people went out en masse to gather and worship, but in her area of the nameless suburban midwest, it left the streets fairly barren and that meant that she didn't get stared at nearly as often when she ran. Not that she minded being stared at. Quite the contrary, she took some pleasure in it because she knew she was hot.

Even if people weren't staring at her for her assorted wiggles and bounces achieved through the process of running on the sidewalks of a sunny suburban setting, they would definitely stare at the only brontosaurus they had ever seen due to certain incongruencies such as her moving about on two legs instead of four and also being alive in the early part of the current millenia rather than 65 million years ago.

Once people got over the fact that she wasn't human like most, they tended to stare at other things like the fact that to the shoulder she may have been an above average six feet for a female (though who knows what the average would be when you're the only human-shaped extinct dinosaur known in a world of human-shaped humans) with another four feet of neck above it.

Some people would, and certainly through no fault of their own, stare at other attributes she had. This was because in addition to all the good things that she prided herself on and the fact that she wasn't good (which has been glossed over and will assuredly be addressed), Tambi was a creature of pride in herself. She both hated and loved the heat because it facilitated that pride through the sheer white tanktop she wore, the titanic breasts straining the thin white fabric that turned near translucent when drenched in the constant sweating she did. She loved the leers she got, but she hated the sweat. It even soaked through the tight running shorts she wore, hot pink to call attention to the equally strained fabric covering the bulge between her legs.

On her hip she had an mp3 player clipped at her waist with the long, long cable leading up to her headphones facilitated by a cable extender. The soundtrack for her run this morning was a mix of classic 70s rock. It helped her keep a decent pace that kept her going for hours. She was no sprinter, but if she kept her pace, she could handle strenuous activity forever. Something about her genetics helped with that though it's not like she could ask her ancestors, whoever they were, millions of years ago.

What she particularly liked about Sunday mornings were the housewives. Not the good, God-fearing ones that went with their nuclear families to pray or even the ones that didn't go to church and sat out on the lawns with their husbands or families and took in the nice day. No, Tambi was on the lookout for the sad ones. The ones who had husbands as bad as she was, going out on false errands to meet their mistresses or to fulfill other vices. The ones that needed a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on. That's what she was out on Sundays for.

She had a few leads. She was active in the community, always willing to help out, so she was both known and knew everybody. She knew the most likely targets in a several mile radius around her own small slice of suburbia and now she found herself several blocks away from that refuge, passing by The Pitney's residence, Mary standing on her front porch holding a pitcher of lemonade that was practically comically large, the glass dripping with condensation on a hot day.

As if simply needing a rest on her run, Tambi slowed down and strategically stopped just barely before the driveway of the small ranch house, breathing heavily and dripping with sweat. Her tail swayed back and forth to keep her steady and she made a show of being worn out, long neck dropping down as she pulled her headphones off. She did a double-take and gave the housewife a big grin and waved, "Hello, Mary! How nice to see you! How's Burt?"

A brief scowl passed over Mary's fine features. It was a strategic move to mention her husband, but Tambi wanted him fresh in Mary's thoughts or else it wasn't nearly as fun. The scowl was only there for a second, barely a microexpression, but Tambi was looking for it and she smiled even wider when she saw it. She walked up the driveway slowly, wiping sweat off of her face as she did, each step shaking the ground just a tiny bit, not nearly as much as when she was fully running. She was not some monster towering over others (other than her neck) but she was very densely packed. She couldn't sit on most normal furniture.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I know it's a sore subject. Did you talk to that therapist I recommended? Maybe the two of you can work things out." She reached out and took the big pitcher of lemonade, raising it up to her lips and took several long gulps right from the spout. Her long neck pulsed with each swallow and rivulets of sweetness mingled with the saltiness of her sweat. If she wasn't already soaked through, her white top would be after that.

Mary sighed lightly and, no longer holding the pitcher, brought her hands together and twisted her fingers together nervously, "He won't do it. And he denies everything about his secretary but I just know he's cheating on me. He hasn't so much as touched me in three months." As she talked, her hands roamed over herself. Whether it was subconscious or a presentation, Tambi's eyes followed as she drank more lemonade. Mary was short and most people would call her fat. Tambi would never call her eyed prize fat, though. She was perfect.

Barely five feet and possessing of hips that seemed almost as wide, Mary had certainly let herself go from her early days of marriage. She was a housewife, a traditional role that was mostly as extinct as the brontosauri that Tambi descended from, and with nothing else taking up her time Mary had developed a bit of a gut to match those hips. Tambi needed to will herself to calm down, bloodflow increasing to her loins as she eyed the woman.

Tambi handed the half-empty pitcher back and slowly lowered her head down until she was level with Mary's so she could look her in the eye. She put on her best sympathetic expression and gave a soft smile, "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you." She said as she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, rubbing back and forth. Almost on instinct, she kept speaking soft words of affirmation and camaraderie as her hand slid lower. Past her shoulder and eventually on Mary's hip. She was barely able to keep it help there, so close to her target of desire.

Mary hadn't responded to the touch yet, simply performing her societal duties of responding to the conversation but once Tambi's hand had slid down to cup her plump ass, she inhaled sharply. This was the moment when she would find out if the housewife was being just polite or if the weekly offerings of lemonade were more of an invitation, as she suspected. "You know....I have heard you are very handy and was wondering if you could help me with something in the house, dear."

Tambi grinned lightly and just couldn't help giving that plump read a squeeze before she nodded, "I am a bronto of many talents, Mary." She said in a voice suddenly husky with innuendo. She removed her hand and made a show of adjusting her shorts with it as she stuck her other hand out in a 'lead the way' gesture before following her inside, head ducked down low under the doorframe as she passed.

~~~~~

Ten minutes later, with hot pink running shorts and sweat-drenched tanktop in a pile with floral-patterned housecoat, Tambi was standing in front of the couch, her tail and backside fully on display in the front picture window of Mary Picken's living room with the latter's hands on the former's ass the only visible indicator that she was in the home as well. Anyone watching from the sidewalk would see the green and tan mottled skin of the dinosaur being squeezed by the pair of well manicured hands digging in to hold on tight.

Thankfully for Mary, it being Sunday morning,only her current houseguest tended to occupy that sidewalk at that time so she was free to bury her face against the slowly growing cock in front of her. She buried her face under it's length and inhaled the strong stench of those sweaty balls, her tongue darting out to slide over the taut skin. She held on for her life as she worshipped those heavy balls, doing her best to suck one of them completely in her mouth, cheeks sucked in as she settled for what she could manage.

Tambi's cock draped over her shoulder, leaking thick trails of pre down her back to drip onto the couch's upholstery. She had been setting this up for weeks, manipulating Mary, complimenting her or negging her as needed so that she would always be at the forefront of the housewife's mind. This was inevitable and Tambi was reveling in it. She stood as tall as she could, only needing to keep her neck bent a little in the tall living room, watching intensely as she kept a hand on the back of Mary's well-styled hair. She ran her fingers through it, almost intentionally ruining it's perfection, holding the woman in tight to her musky nethers.

She could have lived in that moment forever, been perfectly content to have her balls worshipped by this sad, lonely housewife. She could have, but her slowly rising cock was starting to demand more attention than the warm skin of Mary's shoulder. She rumbled softly before she said in a voice that would brook no arguments, "Suck my cock." Even if that voice hadn't been commanding enough, the step back she took that slowly dragging her sweat-slick length over the housewife's cheek would have been the final word. Once she had stepped back far enough that Mary's hands could barely reach to maintain the hold on her rear, Tambi reached down with her free hand and hefted her heavy length and slowly smeared it all over those already musk-covered features.

On some deep, instinctual level, she was marking this woman as her property. She took several long moments to press the underside of her cock against the housewife's face and smear it around, mascara and foundation and lipstick getting ruined by the combination of sweat and musk and pre and saliva and she could tell that Mary was in bliss at the feeling. She felt wanted for the first time in months and just like the bronto a moment earlier, she reveled in that moment. She never wanted it to end. Soon, however, her partner moved on and she felt that heavy warmth slide off her face and she was staring it down from the tip.

She stuck her tongue out and gave a long, slow lick to the head, making a show of swallowing the pre that was dripping from the bronto's slit before sticking her tongue out again, opening her mouth wide. She could feel the strong hand on the back of her head and she was momentarily torn between taking that presented dick or being forced forward. She could feel herself adding wetness to the couch and while part of her wanted to be claimed even more by this towering force of nature, she couldn't deny that she wanted it too.

It was an effort but she was more than happy to add her drool to it as she slobbered her way down that length, cheeks puffing out as that thick head worked past her lips. She couldn't get very far as her throat, despite her desires, just wasn't up to the task. She sucked and swirled her tongue over that enveloped head, though, and was rewarded with a slight groan of pleasure from the bronto standing tall before her. Her hands moved off of Tambi's ass for the first time since she sat down and moved to wrap around the unattended length, wrapping both small hands around it as best she could. She stroked and twisted, feeling like she must not be doing anything with them but soon she felt a heavy spurt of thin, salty liquid slide down her throat and she practically squealed in glee.

For several long minutes, her jaw aching more and more, she sucked and swallowed and licked and worshipped the head of that cock before she had to look up, tears and mascara running down her cheeks to mingle with snot as she breathed heavily through her nose. She met the eyes of her partner, only seen past that titanic chest because of the bronto's bent neck and wordlessly pleaded for air.

Tambi was not a good person, surely, but she was not cruel and besides that, she had other things in mind. Her iron-grip relaxed and she pulled her hand off the back of Mary's head who immediately pulled back, coughing and gasping for air. She had a grin on her face as she did though and after a few moments of her chest heaving with effort, her own breasts nowhere near as large but still impressive (especially as she gasped for breath), the housewife went right back to slathering her tongue over that rigid length, cleaning up smeared lipstick and mascara, dragging the velvet-softness over it until was shiny with her saliva, cleaned of all the musky sweat and mess of her makeup.

Tambi took a step back and again said in her most commanding voice, "Stand up. Turn around." The housewife practically leapt to her feet, her chubby form jiggling pleasantly. The bronto licked her lips, watching the short woman turn around and place her hands on the back of the couch, presenting herself to her partner eagerly. She spread her legs apart and swayed her hips back and forth eagerly. "I didn't say bend over. Nice to see you can think ahead, though." She said, a bit of her authoritativeness slipping and some of her own eagerness taking over. She placed her hands on the woman's hips and bent her long neck down, down, down until she had her nose buried in the crack of Mary's ass. She stuck her wide, bronto-tongue out and slurped noisily, tongue curling to scoop up the dripping wetness of the folds just in front of her. She slathered her tongue all over them, neck pulsing with the obscene swallowing of that wetness.

Mary writhed under the attention, moaning deeply as her pussy was attended to with that wide, soft tongue. She found herself shocked as, seemingly out of nowhere, she came all over the bronto's face. Months of no attention had left her so craving of affection she was instantly lost in herself, humping back against that tongue as it probed her depths, wriggling around and prolonging the waves of pleasure. She felt fulfilled for the first time in so long and absolutely, horrifyingly empty as Tambi pulled away, straightening her neck and dripping her own cunt juices on her lower back.

The emptiness was immediately replaced by the sudden warm pressure of the bronto's cock pressing against her, though, and she gasped. She was still riding out the last little quivers of her climax as she felt that thick cock insistently pressing forward. She was not sure how it could possibly fit but somehow she hadn't even thought of that until this moment. She would make it fit. She would let herself be destroyed by it if she needed to. She gripped the back of the couch harder and pushed herself back to meet that slowly invading length and she squealed in the effort.

Almost cruel in her need she dug her fingers into the soft, pliant flesh of Mary's wide hips and she started to bury herself. It was tight, almost painfully tight for her and her thick cock. All that wetness from sweat and saliva and need certainly helped and she pushed forward, straining the capacity of her partner. She wouldn't knowingly injure her, but she would certainly push her to her limits in her pursuit. She found she couldn't get any further once she was halfway in. With a frustrated growl she wrapped her arms around Mary's plump waist and she spun around, holding the housewife in the air and sat down on the couch. A sharp crack filled the air as she ruined the furniture but neither of them seemed to even notice.

Gravity and her own strong arms started to finish the job she started when she was on her feet and she could feel that hot, wet, clinging cunt slide down her length slowly. She groaned loudly, burying her face against her partner's neck as she sunk herself deeper and deeper. Mary was handling it even better than she thought, the woman panting heavily but not crying out. Tambi knew she had chosen well, the woman's wide hips ideal to take her big bronto dick.

It took several long moments, or minutes, or years, but eventually she felt the thick bushy hair of her partner tickling her balls and she groaned loudly, the tickling sensation causing her balls to clench and a thick splattering of pre coated the deepest parts of Mary. They both panted heavily in exhaustion, feeling like they had been at this for their entire lives. Tambi was not a printer but she knew how to go forever if need be. She slowly stood up, holding Mary by the waist and walking her forward until she was resting her hands on the windowsill of the big picture window before Tambi started to pull back.

Mary whispered, "No, please..." in such a desperate, hoarse voice that the bronto almost came right there. Her whole length throbbed, somehow stretching that strained cunt even more and it was only through years of playing out this same scenario over and over in suburban homes all around that she held back. That whisper wasn't a plea to stop, it was a plea not to pull out. Mary need not have worried though, as her partner had no plans for that.

After a five count to maintain her composure, the bronto started pulling back again, only withdrawing a couple inches before she just as slowly pushed forward again, burying herself against that thick tangle of hair that was growing less and less ticklish and more like a swamp by every passing second. She kept up this achingly slow pace, pulling back just a bit and hilting herself again, over and over, for as long as she needed to. She waited patiently for Mary to relax, to accommodate and overcome, to take her completely.

Mary was a trooper, it seemed, and soon she was meeting those slow, short thrusts, her big backside jiggling beautifully for Tambi to watch. She loved all of it, but if she was pressed, watching the big ass of a sad, lonely housewife bouncing on her dick was what she lived for. Every thrust was making it jiggle just a miniscule amount more. Every thrust was Mary getting more accustomed to that thickness. Every time she slid all the way home she watched her jiggle even more. Tambi fucking loved suburbia.

What felt like years of slowly sliding out a millimeter more, years of thrusting forward a tiny bit harder, all passed much quicker in real time. Soon Mary was rocking back and forth with both the power of the bronto's thrusts and the need to push back against them. Mary was, again, doing her best but it wasn't long before she couldn't hope to stand up against the rough fucking she was getting and she found herself pressed against the glass window. Her makeup smeared over it, her heavy tits framed and on display for the whole neighborhood but especially for the car pulling into the driveway.

Burt was stunned as he stood halfway in and halfway out of his car. He watched as his wife, on display for the whole neighborhood, was absolutely getting railed. Daylight made it so that he couldn't see anything but her pressed against the glass lewdly, but clearly someone was doing it to her. He stood, stunned, unable to look away and she locked eyes with him. He hadn't made his wife look like that in years, if ever if he was honest with himself, but even he could see the constant waves of pleasure and ecstasy visible on her face, her mouth hanging open, tongue pressed against the glass as well. He could see, mixed in with smeared makeup, the dripping line of drool, frothed saliva that dripped down the glass. He had never been harder in his life.