Bespoke Lovers, Bathroom Bulls


Written by Septia.


I let out a long sigh as I leaned back on the toilet seat, a moment later my titanic jugs toppled after me and bound back into my frame. The knockers moved with a viscosity of pudding, but hit like boulders — the rattling jugs were pure, jellied lead. 
	“Fmgns, ass,” I huffed out and clung to my tits, heaving as I felt their weight press into me whilst my arms sank into the gargantuan blubber and cleave them, immersing them in dunes of rocking breast dough. It was a chore to lug them hard, I guess a day wasn't enough to get used to them. But oh boy… if those twins were harsh on me, then how could anything else stand a chance? This thought had slapped a smirk on my face.
	With a snicker I heaved myself to the side, my bust lagging behind into a swing, the behemoths drawing the air our of my lungs as they swung back and forth as a pair of lead blimps. In the swing cracks of dried cum and crusted spittle crumbled and launched off in a hail of damp soot. They garnered enough momentum to crash into the wall to my right, the blubber for a moment moulding around the beams of our towel rack, before their density flipped the roles and mangled the hollow metal into a cast of the bust, to the tune of an orchestra of scrap metal being dropped down a flight of stairs. I burst out into a chuckle, interrupted by the bobs of my tits as they settled back into covering my torso, leaning back in the seat with a deep sigh. I felt my ass hit the end of the warped groove sculpted into the seat, biting my lip I smushed and kneaded back my ample ass to slug throughout the bowl of the ass-print. It felt close to Xanto's ass, who'd left the groove here just yesterday. Drool pooled in my cheek thinking back to the plastic creaking when that sacred, grand bubble butt had bore down on the fortunate seat. How could he be so perfect? 


~ 1 ~


The creak of porcelain underneath didn't bother me, I only shuffled up closer so I could see myself in the mirror, tits pooled into the cupping sink below, writhing in tension from their weight. I could rest my elbows on my bust as I brushed my teeth, peeking at my molars as I scrubbed off spunk stains and ass grime that'd gotten stuck. I rinsed, then spat — straight down my cleavage, which entirely plugged up the sink below. Peering down, I watched the white suds tainted brown and yellow clot down the sweat of my breasts, and trickled down the flume of my valley of flesh. 
	Something hit me. “The dick am I doing this for?” I plunged my face down into my cleavage, smushing my face into the spittle, lapping and smearing it up, as the extra weight sent ripples with thick droves of breast fat down the hills. And the creaking of the sink amplified, cut off by a sharp crumble of supports and masonry as the sink bent out of shape, warped into a slope under my breasts which followed suit and bobbed off of my face. I peered at myself in the mirror polished by spit and suds, littered with a carpet of residual filth. That felt better. 


~ 2 ~


My breasts stopped me at the doorway, hugging around the threshold of the door, I sighed to myself. That's what happened when I forgot to walk in sideways. Though without care I kept going. The wood splintered as the titanium tits claimed another victim, breaking through the frame and warping the wood concave around in a disfigured outline of my front. I clasp my palms over my face. Xanto is still sleeping… He lies spread out on the bed in a tumble of sheets, his chest partially covered by the blanket like a toga, allowing his steel sculpted abs to peek through; the visage of his sturdy abdominals taunting me, teasing me with their soft rustle between his breaths. And behind them, beckoned, the mountains of his buff pectorals, like mountain peeks taunting me to contour them. 
	I sauntered closer, seeing the fabric covering his leg twitching. From far it looked like someone had strapped a backpack to Xanto's thighs, though one that twitched as I crept closer. I felt sweat beading at the side of my face, as if I'm going to realise that all of this was a dream. But as soon as I lifted the covers draping him, the terror abides. There, glued to his hay bale of a thigh by sweat laid Xanto's dick. A length of woven muscle and skin that would embarrass bulls and make mares swoon. The hooded head rested just atop his knee, though by the bed I knew how it would reach further. The head in a luscious pink peeks out from the drape of flesh. A rhythmic pulse of blood pump through the mast, inflating veins sprouting up the sides in time with his heartbeat. He seems to not have bothered cleaning, cus along the massive girth of his shaft 
I see outlines stained into the skin, solidifying cum or tainted circles of grime near the base, illustrating the promiscuous ventures we have already had, where my mouth or pucker clamped down so hard our collective fuel branded it — each ring a trophy.
	“Mmfs, oh dude you are way too good to me.” I wheezed out and huddled up under the blanket, my tits bulldozing the sheets in its path and saddling onto his calves. Here under the blanket, I could sense the briny heat radiating form the mast  – a stove of brawn – the air growing damp as I cuddled up with the meter of meat. I It was even bigger than I had imagined it, this tree trunk of a dick I had helped to sculpt. I wrapped my arms around it, dragging my chest under me to get as close as I could, feeling fingers playing along the surface of polished leather and gently bob along with the husk of his sheath, rubbing my face against his head, smearing off some of the toothpaste suds and grime just to lap it back up with light strokes of my tongue. I feel the shaft quake, the rhythmic pumps developing into throbs. The dick stiffened, raining upwards. I clung close to it so it ferried me along, tenting the blanket around us as I nursed his erection. Though when it came time to hoist my breasts off his thigh, the shaft teetered. 
	“Fmgr gmmrh,” Xanto mumbled in his slumber. 
	I help it along, raising up my chest, and wrapping them around it, at which point I feel the mast tense solid, muscles flexing to the tune of a bass drum as it hoisted me up, and the drape of the covers peeled off of us as I hugged into his shaft with the veil trickling free. “I thought I was the early riser between us,” I snickered and clung to his dick, smooshing my tits around the dense girth of meat. With its breadth, ribbed veins, and dense musculature, Xanto's cock was a fire hydrant, and with enough coaxing and nursing from me and the twins, it would play the part of one too. Sitting at the edge of his lap I was at a prime position to just tilt my head a touch to be at the peak of his mast, suckling the sensitive meat and flushing it with humid breaths of excitement 
	The suckling and pumping from the hydrant of a dick rustled through me. “Mmfg, mggphsa…?” Xanto mumbled, huffing in his sleep as the pleasure stimulated his senses. 
	“Just a bit more,” I huffed out, wrapping him up in my breasts and jerking his shaft off with them and my whole body, bouncing down on his tip and feeling how is sac engorged to sprawl over my lap. The springs of the bedding squealing in a tense choir beneath, which followed along all out to the woof of the wooden frame as the excitement filled Xanto's cock like a bottle of champagne. And just as I see Xanto start to wink awake with shivers through his face, his mast erupts before me, a bath of congealed, rich, hot spunk flooding my face and streaming through my hair. Tendrils of the cock snot plastering against my eyes and draining through the crevices in my face, a steaming heat saunters my face and a sense of roiling trepidation through my veins, though as much as the heat pangs and roasts my tear-ducts, throat and ear canals the lusting desire and satisfaction ravage my body all the more. I savoured the onslaught of pearly white gunk clotting over me and drooping over my back like thick porridge, liters of cum, enough to overfill a mop bucket cast over me and greasing my balck locks heavy with white tethers. 
	Xanto groans, quivers through his frame clapping his pecs together as she hoisted himself up by his arms, to peek at me behind his shaft. 
	“Mfms gmmsa, Fabio mfms dick. Mmfrg. Couldn't ask for better mm, wake up.” He bucks his hips to push his cock into my face, packing more spunk against it, draining down every open crevice I have, until the flood subsides as I reel back for a gasp of air. Even then I feel like vines of his sticky phlegm are lathering my lungs. 
	“Was just finishings up washhing off yesterday's grime off, Didn't want you to miss all the morning, dude.” 
	Xanto bit his lips, looking down at the droves of spunk caking me like Wax. “Sorry to get you messed up first thing…” He mumbled, voice carrying an uncertain sentiment. 
	“Heck dude,” I responded, pushing back his cock and swinging my hair back, whipping off a swirling arc of cum to splatter like cake batter in streaks over the bed, walls, and us, “That was my shower, has my hair ever looked better?” I ask as it has spiked from the swing, drooling in his cum that I lap u whenever it gets close to my lips. “But if ya wanna make it up to me, I've had that bountiful hot ass of yours on my mind alll morning…~” 


~ 3 ~


Xanto placed his hands on the wall at the front of the bed, looking back at me from above his muscular back and his thick, angled trapezius jutting forth below the panting anticipation in his smile. My gaze follows down his back, the labyrinth of creases clutched between boosted musculature, his glistening obliques, his toned teres, until my gaze lands on his gratuitous glutes maximus, plump with a saturation of brawn and fat, bubbled smooth and pliant around his crack. Sliding his ass as wide as a suitcase; the bulk carrying just the slightest sag under its own majesty. It’s enough to have my dick springing with tension and lounging up over his ass, standing above him, this massive figure of my for-. O-of my lover, belabouring before me, eager to have his ass swallow my cock. 
	“Mfmmfs, Give me that dick hard, Fa bio.” he huffed out, and jostled his rear to dance. 
	“Oh, I'm gonna make your ass choke on all this cockmeat,” I proclaim as I heaved forwards, slapping my breasts onto his lower back and aiming my erection for his pucker. My mast passing through his cheeks with a squeak of rubber, my eyes rolling up in my head as I savour the sensation of his latex covered couch cushion of an ass smothering my member. In a mouthed thud like a clap underwater my dick pumps into the plush, gaping pucker, with a crinkling withdrawal shaping his ass before the second thrust bats my member into his ass. The plush ribbons of flesh making up Xanto’s bowels entomb my dick, my breathing ramping up as I stuff my dick deeper into the embrace of his hind, gritting my teeth at the pleasure spiking through my shaft like a rod of hot iron. 
	“Mmd heck yeah I'm gonna wreck your butt.” I wheeze out, my dick throbbing thicker, plumping its girth up well inside of him embedding its girth. 
	Xanto's howl quaked through his body, hitting his forehead to the wall so the plaster dents. “Mfmrggs, heck yeah. Destroy my ass.” He huffs out as I clambered over him, wringing my grasp around the obliques at the sides of his core, clutching onto them -- the bull’s horns -- as I ramped up into a rut, burrowing my cock down to the base, so I felt his ass kiss my lap at the culmination of each thrust. A glistening creak and splutter of greasy rectum oils and sweat smattering between the claps of ham and thigh. 
	“I'm gmms gonna screw your ass up so hard it can't enjoy anything other that my huge dick, it'll be gaping and longing for the only bastard out there with a big enough battering ram to stuff it.” I called out, frothing through drool as I battered his bubble butt, the plush cheeks bouncing me back up, only so I could plunge down with all my weight behind it. 
	“Mmmf, aawwffn dick, yeah wreck me gaping.” Xanto huffed out, his frantic breathing whistling out through his teeth. Soon my panting matched his, cramming my meat down his taut, undulating tunnels at a pace that rocked us both back and forth, our bodies wagging into each other in a twisted pendulum of meaty squelches and fluttering brawn. Meat brought together so that stacks of steam rose between our union. Squeezing his obliques in my grasp, their tissue responding by knitting taut enough to rebound my digits against the solid meta. Ahead I see trails of snot flinging from Xanto's nostrils, webbing him against the wall along with ferrying tears from the pounding. Each thrust gumming more vines to the indent which his head was making in the wall. A spectre of worry passed by me, but I knew what a freak he was. 
	“I won't stop even if you plunge your whole head through that wall and suffocate in your own phlegm.” I screamed out. 
	“Mfmgms gmpahhfaaa.” Xanto heaved in a guttural moan, the bed creaking and the covers flinging up as Xanto's cock plunged into the bedding, my knees briefly leave the mattress in the bounce before I heard the discharge piping from his crotch hose. Dunes of white cum pooling in lakes of balm over the bed, hardly getting a change to settle before the flood was drowned in a second wave, the sludge of his piping, raw lust soaking through the covers to turn them slick, buttered in his knot batter, and cascading down the floor. 
	“Mfmmffms, the heck dude, I am not even finished with your ass.” 
	“Mfmfs Bro, I c-can't stop.” I panted out, spiking my cock into him and keeping it pinned. “Then you better not stop cumming, you hot bastard.” I hissed and upped my rhythm, dick burrowing into the depths of his bowels to straighten them out in my rampant thrusts, hearing Xanto’s moans sing a chorus that echoed while I batted into him, his bubble butt turning flat in the pummel of my hips… until. I felt the raging heat flush through me, and launch as I heaved my dick in to its base. Pouring his ass stuffed with sizzling spunk lubing up his bowels so his constipation begun to creak and crumble. But even more, I felt my knot start to fill… the pouch of flesh inflating inside the mountain of beef's rectum, plumping to dimensions past what his ass had come to expect. The nerves throughout his rectum strummed taut to a shrilling guitar string, and torching through his bowels. A hot white tear through his ass which jostled through his back and escaped through his maw as a spluttered, spittle filled growl. 
	“Mgpgha ghhsash. Aahsoh s-so m-much c-cock.” 
	“More than you can handle, you stinking hot swine,” I called out and heaved so my breasts sloughed and clapped into his back. My fingers curled around this handlebars, and tugged back. 
	Another spike of sardonic cocktail coursed through Xanto, his dick submerged in a pool of spunk through which new waves only rose and bubbled forth, as his brim strained, already clinging around the thigh thick mast, and now forced to break, rupture and tatter past their limits for the emerging grease and bowel gunk smeared knot to emerge. 
	“Mfms yeach you're my cock’s bitch, and itmgms gonna let you know.” I huffed out, withdrawing against the grasp of his ass until… it uncorked like a champagne bottle with my plug reeling out as a red sack, matching the girth of a steroid-grown pumpkin. The splotch and splatter of fluid crashing back from the tug that set my knot free. 
	“Mghrhyyaarh.” Xanto howled, clenching his fits, pinched so his skin turned red under his fingers, then white, then blue, similar to his pucker, flapping and yawning over the zenith of my knot. 
	“Don't think I'm done with you yet.” I called out, and hammered the knock right through the weakened pucker, ploughing into Xanto so hard that he rammed his whole face into the wall, the foundation of the house shook a moment, with his dick pushed down under his weight, then surfacing thorough the pool of cum gushing liters of whipped lust, the flow roaring over the bed and reaching back to my knees as I plunged the knot deeper, feeling his pucker tugging me into it, choking but still hungry enough to devouring my dick at every chance it got. 
	“Mmg, that's more like it, fmmafs, getting mms, soft and loose, obey my dick, you stinking ass.” I cried out, and gripping him so my veins bulged across my fingers, and I railed him in a rampant clobbering. The claps of his ass joining in with the subdued squashing from my cock trawling through his cheeks, a sloughing smatter of dredging through thick syrup with (swimmers) echoing along from the abused rim. In between each thrust the worne pucker splattered up and fluttered from the strained tension surging through it, only to be tamed by the gargantuan knot crashing through once more. The bed beneath us shifted and schooched with cries of winding springs and creaks of pressure coursing through the oak wood, under the pressure of my dick sloughing into Xanto's thick ass. 
	As sweat was pooling and exhaustion lingered, my pace only ramped up, hammering in like a bull fuelled by pure lust, the pace of my beating through the squealing of Xanto's broad ass blistering the skin between us as we ground each other raw. My knot at first near as wide as Xanto's hams, though now seemed smaller as the raw pressure and constant tension moulded and bended, clearing his sheeks to a sprawling, abraded gape. 
	“Mgms, har-hardmmf, her,” Xanto panted from the crater in the wall around his head, wailing into the crumbling plaster between suckling up snot and spittle. 
	“Mgmsf, I knew your filthy ass would handle all of my dick, msmmf. your butt's made to be, ploughed by my cock plug.” I panted out. Soon a chill came to sooth the scathing skin. The onslaught piling some rich, cum whipped butt fudge to drape in over my dick and slather my knot between driving it in his colon. Each heave scooping out clumps of steaming butt clay smashed together with my fluids. In the middle of it all I started to grow more lucid. Looking around the bedroom and seeing how Xanto's cum covered the floor, draping back in huge heaps towards the broken door, and beneath the bed the semi-solid had reached all the way up to the mattress. Though it all parted and spilled down around us, the bed serving as an island in the sea of spunk. 
	“Mmfs… this won't do…” 


~ 4 ~


Porcelain tenses and shudders under pressure like the bed did; though a more shrill and worried tune, always on the cusp of cracking. Its wails were subdued and smothered under the beating of our bodies coming together, My raw knot squeezed into Xanto's bowels and smoushing through his pucker, hefting out dunes of raw, hot sludge beaten into batter and decanting down my chest and lap. All as the tub filled with the torrents of his spunk, rising the level of yogurt and chocolate into one steaming, humid mud bath to encase me. A new line of rivers melded with the sore pleasure of his depraved grime crinkling like putty and soaking its moulding tart chocolate aura into the reeking cum load. It filled up until instead of excavating, my thrusts started to pump the slurry back into Xanto. It was mesmerizing to watch his ass gape and siphon in sludge with each gasp between my knot corked it up his bowels, to wage once more into an even more potent concoction. “Mfmf s fmphaa fowa t-this is'st the best Ida' y-youve ever had… fmfms. Sick yeah.” Xanto bleated out. 
	The soothing sludge and exhaustion was beginning to set in, my pace trickling to a few, solid, thrusts. 
	“fmmfs, yeah, so-so much.” 
	“Mmpfah haa. Babe, I want mmd, ore… T-think you can use me as your toilet now? I'll lap up every bit of grime straight form yer ass.” Xanto mused. 
	I heaved, and sank back in the flooding back tub. “Mmpfh…  yeah. You freak, as good as well. Phaa… the sink’s busted anyway.” I mumble, breath robbed from my lungs as I plunge back, face barely staying above the  surface as the rest of me laid caught in the raw heat of our union of spunk and sludge. The world grows dizzy, before I see Xanto above me. Then it’s all encased in muck, the stinging of the tart clay piling into my eyes, snorting it up my nose and I feel little loaves pacing in to plug my ears. When Xanto dunks me back up I cough up a mouthful of dung into his face, then slap myself onto him for a kiss, sloughing the muck between our cheeks and sculpting it with our tongues to the bale, which I tug out with my teeth and squeeze up his nose. 
	“Yeah, mfsph you've the makings of the best toilet out there, bud....” 
	“Bro, you armsf, fmsm just so…” He huffed out and plants his lips to mine, smearing the muck between our faces in a crude mud mask. We stayed in the embrace, dunking each other into the mound, and sculpting clay casks around each other's cocks, until one flex too many and a too violent bounce of my chest cracked through the tub, and the muk leaked out to terraform the bathroom into a sludge-scape of a swamp. 


~ 5 ~


“Bro?” I asked, sloughing over Xanto, his chest buffing my cheeks, my boobs lazily smothering his abs. 
	“Yeah?” 
	“You've got such a hotcake.” I mumble. 
	“You too, bro.” 
	“Mmm, I want you to peg my sister with it,” I mumble in a pleasured, drunken haze and cycle up to the plush buffness of his chest. 
	There is a short span of silence, before I feel his pecks rattling in a chuckle. 
	“Then I hope she's got an ass as loose as yours. If not, I'll make sure she does.” 
	I blink, a bit confused, in the haze I had spoken my thoughts aloud, but now, I could only smile.