The warmth and pebbled sweat of fat rolls. The way skin gives way so easily to a squeeze and droops heavily when lifted. The way a fat belly rests on thighs when they're sitting like a thick blanket that's begging to be gently pulled up. The way fat breasts hang heavy, framed by stretch marks that aim down, down like a treasure map. The way thighs pool over a seat and take up so much space that you have to squeeze them against your own to get closer. The way rolls feel like hills and valleys you just absolutely must take the long, scenic way through or it would be such a waste. The way no amount of opening thighs will give you a real glimpse of your treasure, you have to fucking work for it, you have to spread them open with purpose. The way the weight and heft of a fat body just blankets you whole when they sit or lie on top of you, like this irresistible invitation to bury your hands in soft, heavy skin as a bad excuse to readjust them. The way their whole body just puddles around their skeleton, muscles, and nerves, like drizzled frosting that adorn the main course so perfectly you couldn't imagine the meal before you without it.
The way every movement you make can't be small and delicate, it has to be deliberate, it has to be grand and full of purpose, because enveloping a fat body with a hug or a caress or even a flirtatious brush of fingers must be done with real fucking intent. You can't half ass your devotion to a body made with dips and folds that leave so much of it tucked away, you gotta do it with desire, you gotta put your whole self into it. A fat body is one you love with commitment, and that's so fucking hot
Biting my phone over Gaz being so sweet and degrading as he pushing you over the edge again, and Ghost watching?? mwah
Ghost is an observer by heart, known people watcher and infamous for lurking in corners. So it's only natural that translates perfectly into voyeurism. He loves watching every way you can fall apart under someone else's hands, especially Gaz.
Mainly because Gaz ruins you like no one else has, sends beautiful cascades of tears down your sweet face, leaves you a stuttering, whimpering mess of shaking limbs, covered with sweat and cum.
There's something about your lidded gaze locking with his as Gaz drives his cock into you, the rough echo of skin slapping as his hips drive against your ass at a bruising pace, the way your eyes glass over, panted little moans spilling from parted lips, and yet you never look away from him. It drives him to near insanity, fingers griping the arms of the chair he resides in so hard the wood creaks under the pressure of his fingers, cock twitching where it lays against his exposed abdomen.
But he won't touch himself, won't let his hands drift anywhere close, because the second Gaz as finished pumping his cum into your fluttering cunt, Ghost will take his place. Taking his time to drag the tip of his cock, flushed red from self-restraint, through your folds, gathering Gaz's cum on the head before sinking into your velveteen heat, and finally allowing himself to lose his mind in the sweet walls of your pussy.
Penny: "Come on! Someone insulted your girlfriend and you just let him do it? I thought you Texas guys stood up for your women folk?"
Sheldon: "Penny, please. I think I've evolved beyond my simple rustic upbringing."
Penny: "Sorry."
Sheldon: "On the other hand, that low-down polecat done wrong my woman."
The Big Bang Theory 6x07 "The Habitation Configuration"
Oh I would love to be a service hypno top for you. Yes you're a good boy, and you're so good at being a good fucktoy. And I would love to fuck you.
But it wouldn't be for me.
You'd be lying there, rubbing your dick while I fill your hole with toys, feeling the biggest waves of pleasure wash over you. No thoughts at all; just drop into that pool of ecstacy.