Dance of the Swelling Noble

 

Artwork - Shinbross

Crude, crass and a bit on the small side, that best summed up the rebellious spitfire Beckett. He was foul-mouthed for fun and showed little care for the moral principles and customs commonly instilled in society. He bounced from job to job, gig to gig, earning only enough to keep circling around the same chaotic vortex that was his life. His only true friends was Jared—who called him Beck—who allowed him to leech off his goodwill and live in his apartment.

Jared and Beck were inseparable vigilante teens in their high school days, pranksters and troublemakers. Eventually, life caught up, and Jared decided to get his act together and push for something more in life. Beck however, did not, clinging to his past wiles while trying to drag his friend back down. While Jared still retained much of his punkish vibe, he took things serious now and only indulged Beck to a reasonable degree. Over time they grew more distant and apart, and Beck began to worry that soon he’d be tossed to the curb.

“He really does seem fed up with me.” Beck pondered aloud in an empty studio apartment, whipping his short, black, side-swept emo cut to the side in frustration.

Jared was out doing sound mixing for another music album. He had done well for himself, gaining footing within the music industry as an audio engineer creating the wild, soulful punk rock music he always adored. It did mean he was quite busy though and often left Beck alone.

He paced, bored out of his mind and thinking about where it all went wrong. He had been acting out a lot more as of late, trying anything he could to grab Jared’s attention. Infantile pranks and vulgar storytelling were the usual go to, but his friend never budged, keeping on with his hours of chilling and gaming at home.

Walking into Jared’s room, Beck’s brown eyes glared at lines of anime and video game character posters slowly overtaking the rock band decor of old. Jared had fell into the deep end of nerd culture the past few years, which only made things harder for him when it came to keeping a grip on their connection. He hated all these games and geeky shows and refused to indulge in them, even at Jared’s insistence. The guy even owned some collectible statues of the sexy, fictional, female characters he enjoyed.

Beck scoffed, sourly scanning a row of figures on shelves.

“Fuck man, how the mighty have fallen. What a fucking wreck, filling your room with all these damn fake-ass babes.”

Beck’s eyes eventually met Jared’s tallest, most prized statue, a 1/6 scale figure of Eula from Genshin Impact. It was the game he was most obsessed with, playing it for hours on end every night. It was a fantasy style hack-n-slash game with a huge variety of pretty ladies with swords. While not being familiar with the game himself, Beck certainly could see the appeal in all the fuckable women.

He stewed in his mind thinking, Come on J. You’re really fucking desperate if you think some big-ass thunder thighs like her is gona waltz into your life.

Who would pine over a fictional character enough to want a provocative figure of them? Even if—especially at this size—the figure possessed a very convincing, enticing…

“Ass… shit, look at that ass!” Beck laughed, some noticeable arousal building. “I gotta admit, she is packing a dangerous amount of junk in that trunk. Shit could make a man brick on sight.”

Beck had to applaud his friend’s good taste as he looked over the figure inquisitively. She seemed frozen within a dance, one arm raised high to the sky, the other arm bent over, touching gently the forearm of the first. She held a firm posture, legs pressed firmly together and ass pushing noticeably out. The contours of her body were exactly to Beck’s tastes, long legs, large thighs and butt feeding into a flexible torso bearing modest sized breasts. Her face bore the visage of a high-class lady, stoically proper, with sharp refined edges across every feature. It was complimented beautifully by her pale skin and purple-yellow eyes, and the framing of her light blue hair that fell long and over her shoulder on the left side of her face and shoulder-length on the right, her bangs reaching her eyebrows.

Her outfit was no slouch either, though a bit too elegant for Beck’s liking. It consisted of a black leotard with a translucent center and the back cut out with a silver, clan-like symbol at each side of the bottom. The upper body and sleeves ruffled out into blue and white with the sides of the shoulders cut out, held by a black belt strapped below her chest. Additionally she had a blue tie, blue cape, black lace headband and hairpin to her left, a pair of black gloves colored blue on the underside, and blue stockings with black thigh-high boots which had an additional strap. The boots were highlighted with silver, with blue soles and silver heels adorned with spurs. Below the boots of the figure was a plaque with the name Eula carved into it.

The name Eula rung a bell. Jared had been gushing about her a few times, using her as a bargaining chip to convince him to play. He said she’d be the one he’d most likely enjoy, not just because he was an ass-man, but she also had a rebellious side like him apparently, only far more wrapped up in nobility. Beck did have a thing for making good girls go bad, making it easy for fantasies of turning this aristocratic rebel into a moaning, punk-princess to spill in. Along with them came an impossible to ignore stiffy in his jeans.

“Damn, I can’t believe a fucking statue is getting me excited.” Beck embarrassingly chuckled.

He took off his pants, kicked them to the side and plopped on his friend’s desk chair in front of the figure, wearing only his pushed down boxers and over-designed black t-shirt of some underground rock group. The thoughts racing through his head were only building the excitement, his dick at full-mast by the time his fingers coiled around it. He positioned the Eula figure facing away, her ass staring down his cock which he began to pump. It’s heart-shape seemed so inviting; he wished he could jam his dick straight into it.

He continued to pump faster. It had been ages since he had reached such a heated state so quickly, his cream skin sweating bullets and dick throbbing as if it could blow at any moment. Maybe it was the pent-up anger, or because he hadn’t beaten off in a week. Regardless, he was relishing the moment. Ideas of getting back at his friend were creeping in, fueling the rampant emotion of the moment. He would get back at Jared, enacting some form of vengeance upon him!

Driven by lust, Beck leaned up out of the seat and jammed the head of his cock under the ass of the figure between the small opening of the thighs. It was hard to truly wedge it in there, but the head did tuck itself in enough to receive a nice polishing through his mild thrusting. It was enough to send him over the edge and ruin his friend’s figure with ropes of spunk.

“Haah, yes! Here’s a big ass creampie for your precious lady you shit!”

Thick wads of white pooled at the figures feet and stained the statue from ass to foot, a small trail still connected to the deflated dick that had borne it.

“Man, that was fucking weird. Never done anything like that before.” he commented. A lone finger went down to teasingly rub at the crotch of Eula wet with white. “I bet this bitch enjoyed it.”

While his finger scrubbed away, a small crack began to form upon the crotch. Minuscule at first, each pass of Beck’s fingertip spread the crack out until it looked as if it might split apart. His actions transmitted a strange sensation back towards his body, his own crotch being teased as well. His cock swelled once again, a reservoir of arousal tingling within his balls and warmth pooling in his hips.

A heated exhaustion swept over him and he fell back onto the chair, pulling up his boxers while trying to take deep breathes. He’d never felt so wiped out after masturbating. Sure, he wasn’t in the best of shape, his body somewhat thin and malnourished, but this shouldn’t have been enough to throw him into such a frenzied state. He had been hitting the drugs again recently too. Was he having a heart attack?

Beck could feel the warmth becoming a need that spread out from his loins into a circle around his hips and ass. He palmed at the dick tenting his boxers and closed his eyes in distress not knowing what to do. His heart was beating wildly out of his chest, a throbbing in his lower body matching its rhythm, building up to an uncomfortable pleasure. Unbeknownst to him though, this ordeal was very much tied to a continuing development with the Eula figure he had defiled. More cracks were forming along the statue’s hips and butt, correlating with a pressure building inside him.

Slouching in the chair, he groaned and clamped harder to his dick, delightful shocks firing from his balls towards the tip of his cock. At this same moment a large, distinct crack splintered the crotch of the Eula statue. With it came heavy, passionate plaps of spunk firing frantically into Beck’s boxers, wetting his patting palm. With each jettison of cum he could feel a tug on his balls and a pull at the base of his cock. Eventually his balls outright disappeared beneath his fingertips, nothing but the skin of his sack pulled taught in their place. More concerning was his shrinking rod, its length rubbing against the surface of his hand as it was pulled inch by inch into an expanding cavern devouring the inside of his lower abdomen.

He couldn’t help but let out a flurry of moans and curses, his cum spilling out as clear fluids of piss by this point. His fingers pulled up in tense reaction, feeling the now soft and wet skin of his sack that was holding back an emptiness, an emptiness that was like a drooling mouth ready to open wide and nibble on his fingertips like succulent sausages. The lips were slowly pursing, his dick now a mere nub above it. It was no more than a deflated morsel now, dangling before the hungering flesh, everything it had to give a puddle upon the chair in which he squirmed.

“W-What the fuck is happeniiingaaah!!”

Beck’s composure broke into a confused, orgasmic howl as the blissful heat overwhelmed him, while cracks forming on the Eula statue’s hips opened wide.

During the intense release, his bones quaked and the meat of his flesh rippled with vigor. He could feel a thickening mass being added onto his haunches while his pelvis rumbled like the rails of a train track, leading to a fierce, burgeoning flurry of cracking bone and twisting sinew, his hips snapping incredibly wide. Following in its wake came a tear between his legs, the lurking mouth finally ripping apart into a moist maw. His fingers had the ground pulled out from beneath them, sinking into the unmistakable void of a pussy. They pushed the barrier of his boxers in along with them, a camel-toed imprint chewing at the fabric.

Leaning back from the shock of his slit’s new pleasure ridden nerve endings, he had little time to rebound as another set of large cracks on the figurine opened on its ass cheeks. Delivered with them was another barrage of ecstasy as his butt clenched, Beck gritting his teeth before releasing an embarrassing squeal. Floods of fat sludge and toned muscle rippled across the surface of his bottom, making him hop. It came in several bursts, each one adding more mass, desperate to consume the excess space created by the enticing width of his hips. It became as much a bubble butt as it did a tightly pressed pair of muscular cheeks fighting against each other for dominance.

Beck reeled, pulling his hand from his loins and gripping onto the armrests of the chair while his sweaty, cum-slicked thighs slapped together. The cleavage of his large ass wedged his boxers deep, causing them to yank tightly on him from the front and grind against his pulsating pussy. The orgasm that followed was unlike anything he had felt with his male parts, the waves of pleasure seemingly never ceasing and attacking every inch of him. Even when the end seemed in sight, a final tug on his dick sent him heaving forward, the small nub sucked under the upper folds of his slit. The pretty pink pearl now carried with it a terrifying form of stimulation, able to burst open the gates of passion through a single electrifying touch.

Thankfully Beck avoided such an ordeal; his transformation ceased, giving him a moment of reprieve.

“Fuck! This can’t be real! The hell happened to my dick?” he cried out in a panic, gazing down at his unnaturally wide hips for his frame, feeling the cushion of his massive ass. He of course avoided touching the now barren space between his legs, afraid of the sensations that might await him. He made very few sudden movements as his whole body felt on edge, ready to be thrown on the maddening ride of rapture the moment he wasn’t careful.

He nervously groaned over the sight of his body, thick booty and broad hips painfully creaking as bone and mass rubbed against his undersized limbs and torso that hadn’t changed. His legs were like string cheese hanging limp beneath his giant pear of an ass, and his upper body was as if someone had taken the upper half of an action figure and attached it to the bottom of another ill-fit one. However, this looked quite familiar, a physique fresh in his mind for he had laid eyes on it only moments ago. He was female down there, no question about it, but this butt, those hips made for dancing, the way his boxers held onto his body like a leotard…

“E-Eula?”

Beck glanced at the figure, noticing fractures had appeared around the areas where he had transformed. An unsettling rumble was building in his gut, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the dire revelation forming or—

SNAP!

Another large crack splintered the Eula figure right down the middle of its navel, this one more brutal than the cracks that had come before. On cue, Beck’s own navel dipped inward and his gut sucked in. Flesh from the middle of his tummy was siphoned, leaving a stark crevice running from his stomach to just below his chest, his belly button sinking below the elevation of his abdomen’s muscle. That was the only mass removed though, his shivering gut being held in like a vacuum bag deprived of air with the rumblings of something powerful brewing. It was as if all the contracted muscle was being strained through years of workouts, his core tightening across the surface while a pressure tickled beneath it, anxious to breach.

Gritting his teeth, he felt his stomach churning out of control, innards twisting and bending to its will. Any moment it could explode.

“Fuck, fuck, FUUUCK! Something’s inside me!”

SNAP! CRACK!

Three more chips in the Eula statue formed all at once, two on the sides of the torso and one on the backside. Like every time before, it brought about fierce change to Beck’s figure. His sides caved inwards into tight, slender slopes while his backside snapped his posture forward, spine completely reforming in a flurry of popping bones. The new dip to his lower back accentuated his butt far more and allowed his cinched waist to thrust forward with new flexibility. It was the shock to his core that his body needed, as the pressure finally went supernova.

His stomach rose from its puckered state into a flat plane of smooth, feminine canvas brandishing toned muscle. But this eruption of femininity was far too large for Beck’s pathetic frame, thus his body expanded to accommodate. His belly bulged in size, flesh and muscle shifting, bones growing as the girth of his abdomen thickened. He quickly found himself creating a rhythmic wave with his body to the flow of the changes. With each dip and thrust back out, more mass was piled onto him, his height climbing by way of his lengthening torso.

Beck moaned with each roll of his figure, unable to help it. It was as if he was attempting to imitate a dance to match the pleasurable beats of his body. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to move in such a way, knowing that with each tantalizing motion he was further transformed. There was something deep in his soul craving the expression of it. It felt fierce and rebellious, like his own desires, yet chilled and calming at the same time--this dance meant for himself and no one else’s eyes.

“Shit! I… I can’t… stop! Ooooh!”

It had reached the point where Beck was dripping hot passion into his boxers, wetting the crusted remains of his male cum with the crystal clear waters of female bliss. He had never cummed as a woman, but even he thought this was unnatural. It was absolute chaos, his pussy frantically squirting out fluids before the previous orgasmic quake could even build into the next.

He knew this was only the beginning, more rumblings within his body starting to build. This meant the figure was bound to break some more, the crafted Eula ashamed of its own form after its desecration. Whatever karmic force was at play, it had sided with the statue, allowing it to shed its form upon the disgraceful Beck. He would learn of grace, courtesy, and proper rebellion, all that for which Eula stood for. This idol was a testament to her, and he dared cum on her face.

SNAP! SNAP! CRACK!

These ones he could hear with thunderous clarity, though he was unable to see the cracks themselves forming on the breasts of the figure.

“No more! P-Please! No mooooohh!!”

Suddenly his body felt compelled to sway from side to side, building off the rolling upward thrusts and working in consort with them. The dance was evolving alongside his body, Beck looking as if he was trying to execute a dipping, circular hip swing from his seat. His mind fell into a haze and he could feel something large burgeoning beneath the surface of his chest, tugging at his heartstrings. It began thumping so fiercely against the walls of his frame that it actually slowed down the dance, allowing him to brace himself.

He needed to, as he was hit by a strong blast going off like an airbag within his chest. Every muscle fiber within his bust had rapidly inflated in an instant to become softer and more supple, causing the shape of his pecs to expand dramatically as they barely held in the explosion. He tried mustering up words of protest, but he was exhausted and dizzy from the kickback, moans all that were leaving him.

BOOM, another blast rocked his body, which was beginning to recapture the pace of the dance once more. Another hit him, and another, and another, until he was throbbing in the throes of a fatty eruption. After each release his chest seemed a bit fuller, the flat, scrawny muscle from before now perking with vigor as a pair of modest, teardrop breasts.

The opulent orbs rocked with the motions of his body’s unorthodox performance, dragging his bare nipples against the underside of his shirt. Both teats felt far more sensitive than they ever had before, becoming engorged by an erotic fervor that would not cease. Flat discs rose as hills upon the already prolific mounds on his chest, and their tips climbed erect towards the heavens, fishing for a liberating bolt of lightning.

Their efforts paid off, as during an attempt at pushing his breasts back inside Beck palmed one, delivering an electrifying bolt from his nipple straight to his loins. It was such a shock to the system that he wet himself and recoiled back towards gripping the chair, the orgasm yanking him back onto the dance floor.

He looked dressed for the part, his boxers resembling dancer shorts the way they hugged his wide hips and his shirt now appearing smaller on his larger frame, like a dancer’s croptop exposing his midriff, lifted by his breasts. This body had a beat all its own, every change hammering it home, every motion ingraining more of the dance’s methodology onto his soul with frightening excitement. It was becoming second nature, as if he’d done it all before.

“Oh no! Ahn! Shit! I think I’m! Oooh! I can’t!”

Beck couldn’t find the words amongst the growing conflict, his eyes darting all over his body. He possessed an incessant need to complete this dance and it was driving him mad, a twinge of relief coming over him as he saw all the bushy bodyhair from his chest and stomach roll off his body with his sweat. A hairy male wasn’t built to carry the extravagance of this budding performance. But why would he think such a thing? Was he truly losing his grip on—?

CRASH!

Beck’s legs slammed into the desk, his lower body sliding forward. Both of his shoulders had suddenly popped into low, slender slopes, and the blowback had been too much for him to keep his grip onto the arm rests of the chair. The collision he made with the desk caused the figure to fall harshly on its side, the arms of it contacting first and shattering into bits upon impact. From his slouched position he could feel the consequences of it, both his arms splitting with warmth, a fissure cutting through the bones.

He darted up in his seat, braced his hands onto the desk and screamed in a manic, blissful tone. Both his arms were rushing through the process that had otherwise been more gradual with the other changes in his body—perhaps a result of the figure’s arms breaking all at once. The short limbs ill-matched for his lengthened torso popped erratically, several quick, intense growth spurts elongating them and shoving his posture back into his seat. Beck arched back, stiffing his arms as he felt them pulsate, the sickly, scrawny mold building in size just enough to gain a healthier, more feminine splendor. They were elegant limbs, ready to sway to the song of his body, trembling with excitement over their fingers soon to follow. Each digit snapped to attention and was pulled by a compelling force at the tips until they reached a longer shape. A woman’s complexion quickly devoured the course landscape of what had changed, polished nails the cherry on top as it reached his fingertips. His hand were gorgeous, soft padding of the tips and palms concealing a strength forged by the labor of a fine-tuned physique that balanced femme and fatale. That power was now his own, his grip invigorated as he shook the desk during the throes of yet another orgasm.

“Oh, oooh fuck! I feel! I-I feel so—hooh!”

Powerful? Alive? Horny? Beautiful? Beck wasn’t sure what word he intended before he kicked forward yet again, the Eula figure scooting towards the edge of the desk. His mind was lost in a passionate lust, wanting the dance his body craved to take better form in his mind so he could know how to finish it. It was torturous, the dance something he felt his soul needed more than anything, as if it was the only way to save him. Save him from what though, he wasn’t sure. He’d lived his entire life aimless and admittedly alone outside of Jared.

Whatever was happening to him was like a door opening to a new life, thoughts of etiquette and civility mingling with his rebel nature. But it didn’t seem like he was losing anything. No, all the decorum was enhancing his maverick persona into something far more appealing, one that would not be tossed to the side. But these evasive thoughts also craved for what he possessed through his free-wheeling lifestyle—an easier life. They were on a collision course, two tracks of mind stewing together, ready to copulate through the power of dance!

Beck launched his arms into the air, striking a pose mirroring the smashed Eula statue, his hips starting to gyrate as he rose up from his seat.

“Yes, I-I can feel it! The dance! Guh, no wait!”

He willed his hands out of their position and slammed them down onto the desk. He gritted his teeth, eyes shaking with determination.

“Darn it, this is wrong! I condemn you, whatever you are! You shall not have my body!”

He hadn’t noticed, but his strike had sent the Eula figure flying off the desk. In the moment before it hit the ground he twitched at the recollection of his own words, realizing their prose was unlike his own. The figure made its final blow, smashing into pieces and unleashing its full, furious tutelage upon him. Eula’s lesson was over… vengeance was hers.

Beck flew off his feet and into the chair once more, his entire body racked with a pleasurable, piercing heat. Things were most concentrated on his legs and head however. There was a throbbing throughout his cranium, the two personas at battle swirling together in a mess. It was now clear to him the other was Eula, and she was seeking something simpler in Beck. For himself, he thirsted for her refinement, her grandeur, but he couldn’t be sure if these were his own desires. He was scared to let go, but the dance, it beckoned him so sincerely, as if it had much to teach him. The curiosity was too much, and he turned his gaze down towards his legs haphazardly stepping about to an inaudible beat, his face twitching in-between expressions as he stammered and moaned over the sight.

“T-This’ll make, t-things easier… right? Gh, I-Ooh! Hooh… It will remove m-maah! Many! Many of l-life’s complications. S-So… so, w-what’s not to l-looh—Looove! Aaaahn!”

Beck closed his eyes as the throbbing in his head intensified, his throat tightening during a shrill moan. His voice cracked into a higher pitch before it was suddenly consumed by Eula’s refined tones. The more he tried to deny it, the more tempting she became. It couldn’t be this easy to let go could it? He no longer had an excuse that made sense, both him and Eula wanting to see this dance to its completion, feeling that their heart’s fulfillment waited for them on the other side.

Through squinted eyes, Beck gazed upon his legs becoming hers, panting in excitement. Everything from the thighs down were throbbing, tugging and twitching. It was a wild romp of muscle, tendons and sinew thickening, layering, and popping.

Beck would’ve usually creamed himself over the chance to be between a pair of legs such as these. What a sloven animal he had always been, his attitude a stain upon the freedoms he paraded. To rebel was to carve out one’s way of life through their own hands. Admirable sure, but not an excuse for lack of manners and etiquette. He had it so good and he was throwing it away! No wonder he was ending up alone. It was time to get rid of that abhorrent side of himself… she had to crush it between her legs. So she squeezed, every cord of muscle and roll of fat tensing into a beautiful cut of marble closing like a vice around the collected projection of the man known as Beck. He had stained the majesty of what she was becoming and he had to be punished.

It felt wrong to call herself Beck at this point, Eula far more appropriate beyond just the physical. She was bringing a piece of beautiful fiction to life through her body, offering up her old self as a sacrifice. Her anger, her thirst for a simpler freedom, it now had a proper outlet and it was time to purge her life’s mistakes.

“I will have… ooh! I’ll h-have! Hoh! Have my…! VENGANCE!”

Following her intense declaration, she felt her legs complete their transformation and buckle in on whatever resistance Beck had left, killing the past between thick thighs. The pressure decimating the imaginary Beck translated directly to Eula’s own head—still a spitting image of him. Her skull scrunched  and her eyes rolled back as a magnificent compression molded her features into that of Eula. Her hair began to lengthen as well, Eula’s hair taking shape, becoming oiled and shampooed to model. All the while her mouth was open wide, howling in a manner no longer that of a confused ruffian, but a liberated aristocrat finally able to let loose, free from all judgement.

After an arduous final release, Eula’s lavish eyes settled forward once more and her body fell into a heap on the chair, ass splashing into a puddle of her own creation. So many thoughts were running through her head, too many for her to compartmentalize at the moment. So instead she closed her eyes, and she hunted for the calm within the white noise. She sought the dance that had brought her into being. Nothing else mattered until she could finally taste its decadence.

She opened her eyes once more and softly tilted her head upwards, and simply muttered, “Yes…”

She had not a name for the dance, but as she rose to her feet and took her starting position inspiration came to her, and she delivered its name with a calm conviction and refined pronunciation that had eluded her as a man.

“Dance Of The Swelling Noble, Act II, Freedom’s Flight.”

Her dance started from the same pose as the figure before her legs began to scurry in small, elegant paths across the floor, carrying her away from the messy scene of her transformation. Once she found more space in the middle of the room, her movements became full of breadth, each heel tap and step moving her body as fluidly as water, both her arms painting strokes upon the air, sweeping low and high to the sway of her hips. Occasionally her arms would move in perfect concert with one another, simulating the flap of wings as she struck a confident pose. This ebb and flow repeated again and again, carrying a reliable repetition that perfectly communicated the dance’s broad, relatable message. It all ended with a few flourishing twirls of the body, arms reaching to the sky, fingers lax without a care in the world.

As it all came to a halt, the weight of everything was lifted from her. She gently let her arms fall and trace her bodily features on the way down, all the way until they settled below her hips. It was her way of making sure it wasn’t all a dream, that this body, this freedom, was indeed hers. A lesser her would’ve squealed in excitement, but she kept a serene calm.

“Who knew such a dance could bring such comfort and clarity.” Eula said while glancing at the harder to see ends of her new body, making sure all was in proper order.

Eula’s eyes then turned to her room and she gave glares at every direction.

“It pains me to think of how crude I was before. Fortunately I’ve not only been reborn, but reformed as well.”

Her speech was firm and elegant, despite the daggers she was tossing at her former self. Only as much emotion as was necessary filtered through into her voice.

That said, she thought. Unlike myself from the game, I am now free from social mores and stigma, and no family obligations… But what now? Jared’s perplexing figure has left me in quite a predicament. Hmph, for this, he must pay!

The sound of a door opening and closing in the living space caused Eula to perk. Jared had returned and arousal began to bubble inside her. It was a mix of friendly admiration—him the only true friend she ever knew—as well as pent up aggravation. To be standing here in male boxers crusty and soaked, it was unsightly! Jared had to take responsibility.

Jared turned the corner into the living room and was immediately met by the sight of Eula, his gaming crush, in the flesh! She was ridding herself of her underwear, flinging them aside with her foot while she stared dead straight at him, creating an erotic tension. She closed some distance between them before coming to stop a few feet away, a hand confidently resting upon her cocked out hip.

“E-Eula! E-Eula! Y-You’re—!” Jared stuttered, unable to fully process what he was seeing. Was this some cosplaying wet dream Beck had setup for him? The room was certainly easy to read what with her standing in the nude before him.

“Yes, I’m Eula.” she assured him, tired of his stammering. “Formerly your friend Beck. No, I suppose I am still your friend. And as your friend I am happy to see you have returned.”

Jared was left addled by her comment.

“Wait, what do you mean you are my—woah!”

He was grabbed by the woman and thrown onto the couch, back first. He was then told to take his pants off. He didn’t dare say no and quickly got to it, a large boner growing fast beneath his jeans.

“I’m pent up and I can think of no one more equipped for the task of bedding me than you my dear Jared.”

Jared finished kicking his pants away, his heart feeling as if it could beat out of his chest. She sounded frustrated, but with a playful level of insincerity, just like Eula.

Straddling herself on top of him, she rubbed his cock between her massive butt cheeks and said, “Your precious figure is what did this to me, and while I can’t complain with the results, you always had eyes for it rather than me. Well…”

Eula lifted herself slightly, hovering above the quivering man’s throbbing rod.

“Just try and ignore me now.”

Eula descended, feeling Jared’s long shaft pierce her in one intense motion. She leaned forward and gripped onto his shoulders, bewildered by the euphoric entry as she felt her snatch clamping tightly to its prey. Both she and Jared moaned, his more feral sounding, but that was all well and good to her. Such noises were confirmation that he was hers completely.

Eula regained her composure and directed her heated gaze towards the eyes of her now lover who was trembling with childish excitement.

“You want Eula? Now you have her.” she teased while gracefully guiding his hands towards her plump ass. He grabbed hold tight, causing her a minor shiver.

A smile crossed her face as she watched the nervous man ponder whether he should make the first move. Such a cute thing he was. She gave her hips a little wiggle, agitating both of their genitals. It was time to begin the final act of her dance.

“Don’t disappoint me~.” Eula cooed, as she placed her palms atop the hands of her man that were sweaty and squeezing away. “Remember, it takes two to tango. Shall we?”