The tatami mat was occupied by the finest family in Karakura Town: the Kurosaki Family. Headed by the ordinary yet mighty Ichigo Kurosaki and wifed by Orihime Inoue. She was perhaps the bustiest, most beautiful woman in the living world. Certainly it was up for grabs.
Long orange hair, a fluffy pink dress, big round eyes, and bigger round tits. The cute factor was counterbalanced by her sex appeal and her little smile. As she clapped her hands together and prayed, she wore a smile that infected the rest of her family.
"Thank you for the meal," Orihime said softly, then put her hands away and fetched her chops. The table in front of them was all noodles.
Ichigo finished a second earlier and already had his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "Sorry, I'm starvin'!"
Kazui giggled, his small hands clapping together for a third time. He like to pray. "Mama, Dad is so fast!"
"Because Mama is polite," Orihime said, winking at her son. "Unlike some grumpy daddies I know."
Ichigo grunted, but the corner of his mouth twitched. The Kurosaki household was quiet tonight with just the three of them. The sliding door to the backyard was open a crack, letting in the cool evening air and the sound of crickets.
It was good. The normal, peaceful life Ichigo had fought so hard to protect.
"Oh!" Orihime's eyebrows shot up. "The match is on tonight, isn't it? Chad's exhibition bout."
"Oh yeah, I think so."
"Can we watch it, Ichigo?" Orihime's eyes went wide and sparkly. "Please, please, please?"
Kazui immediately copied her. "Please, please, please!"
Ichigo sighed, but it was the kind of sigh that meant yes. "Fine. But you two are cleaning up these bowls."
"Yay!" Orihime clapped her hands. She got the TV remote, pointed it, and all eyes were glued to the screen.
The announcer's voice boomed through the living room. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the World Collegiate Boxing Championship! Tonight, we bring you an exhibition match featuring the reigning heavyweight champion, Yasutora Sado—better known to his fans as Chad!"
The camera cut to the ring.
Like any right boxer, Chad stood in the corner, his massive frame silhouetted against the bright lights. Every muscle in his body was double-sized, whether it was legs or arms. His arms hung at his sides, thick and powerful, the kind of arms that could knock a man unconscious with a single punch.
"Whoa," Kazui whispered. "Uncle Chad looks super strong."
"He is super strong," Ichigo said with a tinge of pride.
The opponent was announced. Some guy from Brazil with an impressive record and a face that looked like it had been in one too many bar fights. The scar was mildly scary. Chad was unfazed though.
The opponent bounced on his toes, throwing practice jabs at the air. Chad just stood there, calm as ever, his eyes fixed on the opponent with that quiet, unreadable expression he always wore.
The bell rang.
The Brazilian came out swinging. A flurry of jabs, a hook, another hook. Chad blocked them all with his forearms, his feet barely moving. The punches seemed to bounce off him like pebbles.
"Uncle Chad doesn't even flinch!" Kazui bounced on his heels.
"That's because he's used to fighting things a lot scarier than some boxer," Ichigo commented.
Orihime leaned forward, her eyes shining. "He's so amazing."
Chad threw his first punch. Bam! The Brazilian flung back. After that, Chad sent three right hooks, dizzying the man.
After that, bam! As though it was over before it started, a single straight up the jaw ended it. The Brazilian's eyes went wide, his mouth forming an O, and then he collapsed to the canvas like a puppet with its strings cut.
What was that? Five punches? The crowd erupted.
"Wow!" Kazui jumped up. "Knock out! He knocked him out!"
Ichigo was mildly impressed. "Sheesh, he pulled that punch too. I don't even think he put in any reiatsu in there."
Orihime was staring at the screen with a strange, soft smile on her face. The camera lingered on Chad as he raised his gloved fist to the crowd, his hairy chest heaving, sweat dripping down his abdominals. His boxing shorts hung low on his hips, showing off the deep V of his Adonis belt. His thighs were like tree trunks, his calves corded with muscle.
"Damn," Ichigo said. "Chad looks buff."
"Mmm," Orihime agreed, still smiling.
Ichigo glanced at her. "What's with the face?"
"What face?" Orihime blinked innocently.
"That face. The one you make when you're thinking about something you're not supposed to be thinking about."
Orihime stuck out her tongue. "I don't have a thinking face."
"Yes, you do. It's the same face you made when you tried to sneak an extra cake from the bakery."
"That's a lie."
Kazui looked back at them. "I'm telling Uncle Chad you both think he's buff."
"I think you should tell him he's amazing too," Orihime said, ruffling his hair. "And that we're proud of him."
The broadcast cut to a post-match interview. Chad was standing in front of a wall of sponsors, still shirtless, a towel draped over his shoulder. The interviewer was a beautiful woman who looked comically small next to him.
"Yasutora, congratulations on the win! That was absolutely stunning."
"Thank you," Chad said in his usual flat tone.
"How do you stay in such incredible shape? What's your secret?"
Chad paused. "I eat well," he said. "And I work hard."
"Short and humble," the interviewer laughed. "Words of wisdom from the champion!"
Ichigo clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "Same old Chad."
"That's what makes him Chad," Orihime said.
They watched the rest of the program in comfortable silence. Kazui fell asleep on the floor, his head resting on a cushion. Ichigo carried him to bed, and when he came back, Orihime was still on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees.
"Looks like it worked."
"Hm? What worked?"
"Huh?"
"Huh?
There was a moment of silence. Orihime blushed and scratched her cheek. "Well, uh, you know, I actually go to Chad's gym sometimes. To help him out."
Ichigo cocked his head. "Seriously?"
"Just here and there. He doesn't really need him but…"
"What, do you heal him between matches? Does he recover better than the other boxers? Is that why he's so strong?" Ichigo asked.
"Eh…kinda…"
"Hah…" Ichigo shook his head with a smile. "Come on, that's cheating."
"I-it's not that!"
"Really? Then what? How do you help him out?"
Orihime giggled, her eyes crinkling with a secret light. She put a finger to her lips, her pink tongue peeking out behind it.
"My secret," Orihime said.
Ichigo blinked and chuckled. "Really?"
"Really."
"Come on, is it food?"
"Hehe, good night, Ichigo!" Orihime hopped up from the couch, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "Love you!"
He watched her disappear down the hall, then stood there for a long moment, scratching the back of his head. It didn't sound a big deal but…
He was curious: what did his busty wife help Chad out with? Mm, like it mattered, Orihime was his wife. The mother of his child. Whatever she was doing, it was helping out his best friend. What was there to be worried about?
***
The next morning, Orihime woke up before dawn. "Ichigo…I'm going to get some groceries."
"Mm…"
Orihime giggled at his mute response. She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could, pausing to look at Ichigo's sleeping face. He lay on his back, one arm flung over his forehead, his breathing deep and even. Her husband looked content.
Orihime smiled, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and then padded to the bathroom to get ready.
In the shower, she scrubbed every inch of her body with lavender soap. She shaved her legs slowly, carefully, dragging the razor in long strokes from ankle to thigh. She washed her hair twice and conditioned it until it felt like silk. When Orihime Inoue-Kurosaki stepped out, she did not wrap herself in a towel right away and she stood in front of the fogged mirror. She wiped a circle clear with her palm.
Her reflection stared back at her.
She wasn't a young girl anymore. Her body had changed over the years—her hips were fuller, her waist softer, her chest heavier. But if anything, she was more beautiful now. Her breasts were large and round. Her nipples were pink and large. Her stomach was mostly flat, but there was a softness to it now, a gentle curve that spoke of motherhood. Below that, the slit of her MILF pussy. She cupped her breasts and squeezed lightly, feeling them. Her nipples tightened against her palms. Her breath came a little faster. Then she went to her closet and picked out her clothes.
The outfit was deliberate. She had bought it weeks ago and hidden it in the back of her drawer, waiting for the right day. Today was the right day.
She pulled on a pair of black leggings that clung to her legs and ass like a second skin. They were so tight they left nothing to the imagination: every curve, every dimple, every inch of her slutty busty bode was on display. They were the kind of leggings that made men twist their heads for a second look and women tut with jealous disapproval.
On top, she wore a white tank top. It was too small. That was the point. The thin fabric stretched tightly over her enormous tits, the outline of her bra clearly visible. The neckline plunged low, showing off the deep cleft of her cleavage. Her nipples poked against the fabric, which she did nothing to hide. Over it all she threw an unzipped gray hoodie, which hung open and accentuated rather than concealed. She tied her hair into a high ponytail, letting it swish behind her as she walked. A pair of white sneakers completed the look.
Orihime paused at the front door and checked herself in the hall mirror. "Perfect," she whispered to herself with a giggle.
The grocery store was empty at this hour. Orihime moved through the aisles efficiently, filling her basket with everything she needed. Rice, eggs, vegetables, chicken thighs, a bag of apples, a carton of milk. She hummed to herself, imagining Kazui's face when she made his favorite curry later.
But instead of turning toward home, the wife of Ichigo Kurosaki walked in the opposite direction.
The morning was cool and gray. Her sneakers made soft thudding sounds on the pavement. Her breasts bounced with each step, the fabric of her tank top pulling snug. A few early commuters passed her, and every single one of them stared. She smiled and kept walking.
Chad's gym was a converted warehouse on the edge of Karakura Town. It was a place for serious fighters, not the polished fitness club that advertised on TV. The exterior was plain brick, the windows blacked out. A faded sign above the door read "SADO'S BOXING GYM" in big block letters.
Orihime had a key.
Heh.
She let herself in quietly, the door swinging shut with a soft click. The gym smelled like sweat and leather and floor polish. Dim light filtered through high windows, casting long shadows across the ring. The sound of rhythmic thudding came from the far end of the room.
Chad was hitting the heavy bag.
He was shirtless, his back to her. His muscles rippled with every punch, the tattoo on his left shoulder standing out. His fists slammed into the bag with a steady, punishing rhythm. Thud. Thud. Thud. The chain above the bag creaked and groaned.
Orihime stood there for a moment, just watching. She smiled. She loved seeing men work hard, whether it was her husband or Chad. Masculinity, like for any woman, turned her on.
Then she called out, "Chad! I brought breakfast!"
Chad turned, his eyes softening slightly when he saw her. "Orihime," he said. "You're early."
"I wanted to make sure you ate before your training." Orihime held up the grocery bag with a bright smile. "I have chicken, eggs, rice, vegetables—everything you need."
Chad nodded once. "Thank you."
"Go sit in the ring. I'll prepare everything."
Chad climbed through the ropes and stood in the center of the ring, his hands hanging at his sides. Orihime fetched two folding chairs from the storage closet and set them up facing each other. She spread out the food on a small folding table: rice balls, cold chicken, sliced vegetables, boiled eggs. Then she pointed at the chair.
"Sit."
Chad sat. He was like a silent guard. Smiling widely, Orihime sat across from him, close enough that their knees almost touched. She picked up a piece of chicken and held it out.
"Open wide."
Chad opened his mouth. She placed the chicken on his tongue, her fingers brushing his lower lip. He chewed slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Good?" Orihime asked.
"Good."
"I woke up extra early to make it. I used the secret recipe, you know." Orihime winked. "The secret ingredient is love."
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "That's your secret ingredient for everything."
"And it works, doesn't it? You won last night."
"I did."
Orihime fed him another piece, then another. Each time, her fingers lingered a little longer against his mouth, his chin, his jaw. Orihime leaned forward, her cleavage pressing together, perfectly framed by the low cut of her tank top. His eyes flicked down once, then back to her face.
"You looked amazing on TV," she said. "Ichigo thought so too."
Chad didn't respond. He was embarrassed. Aw, so cute!
"Kazui was so excited. He kept shouting at the screen."
"...he's a good kid."
"He has a good role model." Orihime took a bite of rice herself, chewing thoughtfully. Then she leaned back, stretching her arms over her head, letting her tits push forward. "You work so hard, Chad. You deserve to be taken care of sometimes."
His eyes were typically covered in bangs. So what? Any man was going to dare to take the plunge of Orihime's tits. "I…manage."
"I know. But sometimes it's nice to let someone else take care of you." She reached out and placed her hand on his thigh. He didn't move. His muscle was hard under her palm, warm through the fabric of his shorts. She watched her own fingers crawl upward, inch by inch. She licked her lips. "Chad," she said, batting her eyes at him, "do you want me to take care of you?"
His jaw tightened. There was also a soft smile. "So…this is for my next match?"
Orihime squeezed his thigh. "Mhm. Absolutely~!"
Slowly, Orihime slid off the chair and onto her knees. The canvas was rough beneath her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening, her mouth slightly parted. Her hands moved to his waistband, finding the drawstring of his boxing shorts. She pulled.
The shorts came down.
Thwap! "Oh my god!" His cock flung up and smacked her chin. Just like she wanted it too. See, Ichigo's dick never did this, even erect. But Chad, his flaccid dong was thick and long. Orihime's mouth watered with a big brown cock. She wrapped her fingers around it, her hand looking tiny in his girth. She stroked him slowly, from base to tip, feeling him twitch in her palm.
"You're always so big, aren't you?" A giggle. "Mm, Ichigo would be so jealous~! It's like a sword compared to his little baby knife!"
Chad didn't answer, but his chest rose and fell a little faster. That was his pride swelling. Cute! So cute!
Orihime stroked again and again. Each pass brought more blood rushing to his cock, the shaft hardening, thickening, lengthening. The head emerged, glossy and swollen. The veins along his shaft began to protrude. Her eyes widened as it grew in her grip, inch by inch, until she couldn't wrap her fingers around it anymore.
Until it was parallel to her face, with the tip past her head. What a lengthy beastly cock! Brown-touched, pristine and clean, a little sweaty, and the ultimate of ultimates.
"It's so big," Orihime whispered. "It's like a monster."
By the time he was fully hard, he was at least thirteen inches of raw, throbbing meat, thick as her wrist. The head was a bulbous crown. The shaft was veined and ridged, curving slightly upward.
Orihime leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip. "Mmm~!" Then she opened wide and took him into her mouth.
Chad grunted. Silent guy. He was not as vocal as Ichigo.
'Time to make him groan~!'
She took in six inches and started bobbing up and down. The first tiny groan came out of Chad very soon. With her cleavage and MILF experience, no man in the world could resist. If there was a hypothetical Quincy blessed with the shrift of willpower, it would not have made a difference.
"Orihime…!" His big, boxer hands found the back of her head, not forcing, just resting there. Orihime moaned around him, the vibration traveling up his shaft. She worked the first six inches with her lips, stretching her jaw to accommodate his girth. Her tongue swirled around the head, lapping at the slit, tasting the salty pre-cum that beaded there.
"Slrrp—schllup—hrrk—glrk—mmmnh—!"
This was a married woman. This was a big titty woman. This was a woman with a husband. She didn't look the part though. There was no loyalty here. There was only a desire to please his man and his lengthy, fat cock. This cock deserved her effort and Orihime sucked and slurped and gagged, drool spilling down her chin. Her hands pumped the base of his shaft while her mouth focused on the top. She hollowed her cheeks, creating a tight vacuum that made his hips jerk. She took him deeper, inch by inch, until the head of his cock hit the back of her throat.
"Gllurk—!"
Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't stop. Orihime breathed through her nose and pushed deeper. The sounds were obscene, wet and sloppy and echoing off the gym walls. Her ponytail bobbed and swayed as she fucked her own face on his cock.
"Orihime," Chad grunted. "I'm close."
Orihime pulled back for a moment, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft. "Don't hold back," she said, her voice hoarse. "I want you to cum, Chad. Cum for me."
She took him back into her mouth, and this time she didn't slow down. She took him down to base. All thirteen inches—gone into her throat.
"Oh fuck…!"
Chad's fingers tightened in her hair. And then he came.
"Hnnngh—!"
The first rope of cum shot down her throat, thick and hot. It was a hell hole after that. Orihime went gulp, gulp, gulp, and swallowed until his ropes started to weaken. Once she felt that, she pulled back, stroking him fast, and a meager jet hit her directly between the eyes. Cum dripped down her nose, her lips, her chin.
"E-eh?"
Except, to her surprise, Chad did not wither. He was not Ichigo whose ended at ten or so ropes. "R-right—nnngh! This cock is totally different! Sorry Chad!"
That big Mexican dick cock kept pulsing, kept shooting, until her entire face was glazed with his seed.
"Mmmnpfh…" Orihime moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. She licked her lips, tasting him. "So much…"
She looked up at him through her cum-soaked lashes, a flirty, satisfied smile on her face. "You really made a mess, Chad. Let me clean it up~"
She took his softening cock back into her mouth and cleaned it thoroughly, licking off every drop, kissing the head with soft, wet smooches. When she was done, she sat back on her heels and wiped a glob of cum from her cheek, then pushed it into her mouth and sucked her finger clean.
"Delicious," Orihime purred.
"W-wow." Chad stared at her with a mixture of awe and hunger. "You're incredible."
"I know." Orihime winked. "But we're not done yet."
Her hands went to his chest, pushing him back onto the chair. His cock, still half-hard, twitched against his stomach. She traced the lines of his abs, then leaned in and whispered in his ear.
"I want you to fuck me, Chad. Right now. I want your big, beautiful cock inside me. Do you want to fuck me?"
"Yes," Chad admitted.
That finger then went to chin. She kissed him on the lips, soon entering a make-out session. Tongue slipping in, tongue clashing. Chad was causally dominant, not overly dominant. He let Orihime taste him. He let Orihime's tongue go deep and he let her arms around his head.
After breaking apart, Orihime could not have looked more horny and disloyal. Those brown pupils were heart-shaped and coloured. "Mmm, then take me to the locker room. I'm SO ready for his big, burly cock, Chad~"
The boxer lifted her like she weighed nothing, carrying her through the gym while she wrapped her legs around his waist. His fully-hard, cum-leaking cock pressed against her cunt through her leggings, and she ground against it, giggling.
Chad kicked open the locker room door and set her down on the first bench. Then he spun her around, bending her over, his hands on her hips.
"Tell me what you want," he said.
"I want you to fuck me like I'm yours," Orihime said. "Fucking destroy me, Chad."
He grabbed the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down, baring her ass to the cool air. She wasn't wearing panties. Her pussy was already soaked. He ran two fingers through her wet folds, and she shivered.
"So wet…!"
"For you," she said with batted lashes. "Only for you."
Not Ichigo.
Chad.
He lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance. Bent over, huge butt shining and fat and wanting, he put that cock good to use and entered MILF cunt.
It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Ichigo's penis was one thing. Painfully average at six inches and rather slender. A humble sword for someone with such prestige. Chad though—
"Unhhhh~!!"
Every inch forced her pussy to stretch around him, to open up to something too big to fit. Her pussy resisted at first, clenching, squeezing, trying to push him out. But he was relentless, sliding deeper and deeper, splitting her apart. This was thirteen inches! Thirteen inches! Her husband's measly six inches was NOT good enough practicer for this Mexican beast!"
"Oh fuck—oh god—oh FUCK—!"
Her face contorted, eyes watering, mouth gaping. The sensation was overwhelming, painful and pleasurable and perfect all at once. Her inner walls spasmed around him, rippling and pulsing, trying to accommodate his impossible girth. The canal of her pussy stretched wider than it ever had, the pink flesh gripping him like a glove.
Orihime panted. "Sooo big~! I love! D-don't stop—don't stop—!"
He bottomed out. His balls pressed against her clit. She could feel him in her stomach, her whole cunt full to bursting.
And then he began to fuck.
CLAP—! The sound of his hips slamming into her ass echoed through the locker room. CLAP—! Again. CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! Her fat ass jiggled with every impact, her tits swinging in the tank top she was still wearing. The bench shook.
"Oh yes, yes, yes! This is it! This sex! This, this, thiiis!" Orihime screamed with a big smile. "Pound me, Chad! Pound me hard! Pound me clean in half—!"
Chad grunted and pounded into her without mercy. His hands gripped her waist tight enough to leave bruises. His massive cock pistoned in and out of her cunt, the shaft glistening with her juices. Each stroke went deeper, harder, his balls slapping against her ass.
SLOSH—SCHLLLK—SPLTCH—!
Her pussy made the most disgusting, beautiful sounds as he fucked her. Every thrust pushed more of her cream out, splattering onto her thighs. Her inner walls gripped him like they were trying to hold on, trying to keep him inside. She could feel every vein, every ridge, every inch of him tunneling through her, stretching her to her limits.
Oh yeah, Ichigo wasn't doing.
"Ichigo! Ichiiigo! Oh Ichigo! I'm sorry! But this cock is SO much biiiiger~!!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"You're so deep—I can feel you in my womb! I'm in LOVE, Chad! LOVE—!"
"Your pussy is mine," he growled.
"Yes, yes, yes!! It's yours, it's all yours!!"
He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back. His mouth found her neck, kissing and biting, and she moaned even louder. One of his hands slid around to cup her breast through the tank top, squeezing hard. The fabric tore slightly under his grip, the sound of it sending a thrill through her.
"Harder," she begged. "Plow me harder! I want everyone to hear! I want everyone to know—!"
Her voice broke into a high-pitched wail as he complied. The bench beneath them creaked and groaned. The lockers rattled. His grunts mixed with her screams in a chorus of frantic, meaningless noise.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
The fucking went on and on. He was tireless. He was a machine built for this. The sheer power of his thrusts lifted her off the bench, and he had to hold her down, forcing her back onto his cock. Her body was on fire. Her brain had shut off. All she could think about was his cock and how big it was and how much better it was than anything she'd ever had.
Ichigo was nowhere in her mind. There was no guilt, no hesitation. There was only Chad and his thirteen inches of hot, hard cock and the way he was using her like she was his personal fuck toy.
"I'm close," he grunted. "Where do you want it?"
"Inside," she gasped. "Cum inside me—fill me up—please—please—!"
He drove into her one final time, burying himself to the hilt, and exploded. Spurt, spuuurt, spuuurt! His cock pulsed and throbbed inside her, shooting wave after wave of hot cum into her pussy. She felt every spurt, every rope of his seed flooding her inner walls. It filled her, warmed her, spilled out around his shaft and dripped down her thighs. Her own orgasm crashed over her at the same time, her vision going white.
Orihime loved it. Orihime loved his dick. Orihime was in love.
"CHAD~!!"
For a long moment, they stayed like that, panting, sweaty, connected. Then he pulled her up and spun her around, and his mouth crashed against hers in a sloppy, cum-stained kiss. She kissed him back just as hungrily, her tongue sliding against his, tasting herself and him and everything they had just done together.
His hands slid down her back to her ass, squeezing, lifting. He walked them toward the bench on the other side of the locker room, never breaking the kiss. He laid her down on her back, the cool metal pressing against her spine through the damp fabric of her hoodie and tank top.
Orihime looked up at him, her face flushed and bright with satisfaction. Her legs fell open, revealing her freshly fucked, stuffed pussy. His cum oozed out of her in creamy rivulets, pooling on the bench beneath her.
"Again?" Chad asked.
Her eyes went wide, then dark. "Mmm, obviously~!"
He gave her his rare smile. Then he took his still-hard cock in his hand and lowered himself over her. The head of his cock nudged against her entrance, spreading her folds, painting her with the mix of his cum and her arousal.
"I'm glad. You…you complete me. You make me who I am."
And the fat, glistening head of his monstrous cock lined up with her milf pussy, kissing it with a promise of more.
***
NEXT DAY
The smell of ginger and soy sauce filled the Kurosaki house. Orihime moved through the kitchen with practiced ease, her bare feet padding against the cool tile floor as she stirred a pot of miso soup and checked the rice cooker. Steam curled upward, fogging the window above the sink. Morning light slanted through, catching the shine of her hair where it spilled loose over her shoulders.
Orihime was wearing the apron. Ichigo had bought her years ago as a joke, back when they were first married. It was pink with ruffled edges and a little cartoon bear on the chest pocket. But the apron itself was the least important part of the outfit. Beneath it, she wore nothing at all.
The apron covered her front from collarbone to mid-thigh, but the sides were completely open. Her back was bare from her shoulders to the swell of her ass. The thin fabric strained over her huge tits, the neck strap digging in between them, pushing them together and up until her cleavage looked like it might spill over the top. The waist ties cinched tight, showing off the curve of her hips.
Her ass was barely covered. Every time she bent to check the oven, the hem rode up, flashing the underside of her cheeks. The soft skin was still marked from yesterday, faint pink crescents where Chad's fingers had gripped her.
Orihime touched one of those marks now, her hand sliding back to press against the spot. A shiver ran through her.
"Mom! I'm going to school!"
Kazui's voice rang through the house. Orihime smoothed the apron down and popped her head around the kitchen doorway, smiling brightly. "Have a good day, sweetheart!"
The front door slammed. She heard Ichigo's heavy footsteps in the living room, then the sound of water running as he washed his breakfast dishes. Normal sounds. Normal morning.
Except for the fact that her pussy was still sore from the day before. Except for the fact that she could still feel Chad's cum inside her, a warm phantom presence that made her thighs clench every time she moved.
She squeezed her legs together and bit her lip.
'Focus, Orihime. Focus on the food.'
But her mind kept drifting back to the locker room. The way his cock had stretched her. The way he'd bent her over and fucked her until she couldn't see straight. The way he'd laid her on the bench afterward and lined himself up for more.
"Unh, unh, unnhhh! CHAAAAD!!"
Squatting, he drilled into her. He nailed her into the bench.
Or that that tittyfuck…
…
…
…
"Orihime, Orihime, Orihime…!" Chad grunted. His huge Latino cock was buried in those huge mammaries. It couldn't be but it was. This was Orihime, ladies and gentlemen.
The MILF squeezed her tits tighter around his cock and twisted. The head brushed against her lips. She confidently and sluttily parted them, letting it slide into her mouth for just a moment, tasting the salt of his pre-cum, then pulled away.
Imagine being hung. Imagine being a stud. Imagine being at your own gym and being dominated. That had been Chad's experience.
Orihime's eyes sparkled. Orihime grinned.
"Going to cum?"
"Y-yes. Yes!"
The silent, deadly attitude was dissolving here.
She worked his cock faster now, her tits a blur of motion between her hands. Chad was literally trembling with the effort of staying still. Once upon a time, his cock conquered. Now it was losing and throbbing in her boobs. She could feel his climax building, the cock twitching and jerking in its prison of soft flesh.
"Chad," Orihime whispered, so quietly only he could hear. "Cum for me. Cum all over my tits. Let your champion's load cover me."
On that bench, in his own gym and locker room, Chad busted in two minutes.
His seed splattered across her grin, her face tits, her neck, her collarbone. It dripped down her cleavage, pooling in the valley between her breasts.
Orihime kept stroking him with her tits, milking every last drop, until his cock was twitching weakly and his cum covered her like a glaze. The champion had been conquered. And the MILF had claimed her prize.
For this round anyway.
After all, Chad hadn't gone soft.
…
…
…
Again, there was a reason Chad was a damn stud. Why masculinity fueled him; it was because a beautiful feminine woman was there to complete him.
They'd gone three rounds that morning. By the end, she could barely walk. Her legs had been like jelly, her pussy raw and leaking, every nerve in her body singing. She'd had to stop at a pharmacy on the way home to buy wet wipes just to clean up enough not to raise suspicion.
And now he was coming over for brunch.
Her fingers tightened on the wooden spoon stirring the soup. She could feel herself getting wet again.
The doorbell rang.
"Got it!" Ichigo called.
Orihime's heart jumped. She heard the door open, the low rumble of Chad's voice, the slap of a handshake. She wiped her hands on the apron and made her way toward the front hall, her pulse fluttering in her throat.
When she rounded the corner, there he was.
Chad stood in the entryway, filling it with his bulk. He wore a simple white t-shirt that stretched across his chest like it was struggling to contain him, and dark jeans that hugged his massive thighs. His arms hung at his sides, thick and brown and corded with muscle.
Chad gave her a subtle look. Just a glance, quick and unreadable, but it made her insides flip.
"Chad!" Orihime smiled brightly, stepping forward. "It's so good to see you!"
"Likewise," Chad said in his usual flat tone.
Ichigo clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on in, man. She's making enough food to feed an army."
Orihime laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to make sure our champion ate well."
They moved into the living room, and Orihime returned to the kitchen to finish the last of the dishes. She could hear the murmur of their conversation through the wall, Ichigo's voice rising animatedly about some fight from the other night.
"You're seriously getting strong. We gotta arm wrestle some time."
"Agreed," Chad replied with a flat, amused smile.
Orihime arranged the food on plates, arranging each one with meticulous care. The chicken was glazed with a honey-ginger sauce. The vegetables were cut into small, precise shapes. The rice was fluffy and fragrant. She carried everything into the dining room and set the table, conscious of the way the apron rode up when she bent over. She didn't adjust it.
But Chad barely looked at her. He sat at the table with Ichigo, his expression neutral, his hands folded in his lap. She couldn't tell if he was excited or nervous or simply being himself.
Orihime sat at the head of the table, smiling as they ate. Ichigo dug in enthusiastically, groaning at the first taste. Chad ate more slowly, methodically, his eyes occasionally flicking to her face.
"This is delicious," Ichigo said through a full mouth. "Seriously, Orihime, you've outdone yourself."
"Thank you, honey." Orihime smiled, but her attention was on Chad. His mouth moved as he chewed, his jaw flexing.
The hunk was thinking about yesterday. She could tell.
Fuck, so was she.
********
FULL PART ON PATREON!