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Fatgum form smut pleaseeeeeeeee 🤲🏼 I just want them to love each other and bang
His fat form is good for many things. It's good for his job, obviously. It's good for combat and his brand, good for making him seem more approachable-
It's not good for intimacy.
Tai keeps the light off, as if that makes it any better. That way, he can't see your face when he sits down next to you on the couch. Surprisingly, you're quick to throw a leg over him, straddling his lap with wide legs.
"This is what you've been hiding from me?" you tease. Your touch is so liberal; you give it so easily, so much. Everything about you is pressing and touching and-
A hand on your hip to keep you apart for him.
"I know it's not..." he trails off. It's not a lot of things. The though won't form; his skin is buzzing too loud.
"I like you like this." You cup his cheeks in your hands, head tilted with an abundance of affection and a hint of mischief. "I like a big boy."
But Taishiro can't shake off the feeling that you're lying.
"It's okay." He laughs this time. "I know I'm not-- I know I'm not attractive like this."
He can feel your weight shift as you tilt your head to the other side, watching him in the dark.
"Give me your hand."
Both of your hands fit into his. Easily, you guide it to your mouth and kiss each knuckle, slowly, unrushed, each touch a love letter in itself. It's tender. So tender tgat he gives into you, lets you moce him how you need him.
Then, you drag it to your cheek, down your neck, all the way to the top of your collarbone. He almost pulls away on instinct, but your grip is firm and trustworthy. The give of your breast shocks the breath out of him, especially when you close your hands around his and force him to squeeze.
"Oh," he manages. He's never fully allowed himself this, never allowed himself to touch you, but now you make him. He's caressing your stomach, fumbling with your shirt--
Oh.
Oh.
His hand is suddenly down the front of your pants. Your panties are soft and lacey, but you don't give him time to admire that. No, you're pushing him lower, until his thick fingers are pressing between your folds-
"Tai," you whisper, right into the shell of his ear. "Am I wet?"
"Y-yeah."
Your hips roll into the palm of his hand and he's amazed at how your excitement slips between his fingers.
"Am I wet for you?"
His breath gets caught in his throat. "Yeah."
Your laugh goes so deep that it's almost a purr. Throwing an arm around his neck, your hips move again, this time more securely. It happens again, then again, then again, and your head dips low into the crook of his neck.
"Mm," your voice is buttery with want. "Yeah, I am."
It takes him a while to cut through the static thats built on in his brain and realize what you're doing. You're masturbating. You're masturbating using his hand.
"I'm so wet for you." Your body presses closer to his torso. "I want your fingers."
Oh, he should move, but he's just so gobsmacked that he can't. This has to be a dream, a hallucination-
"I want your cock."
Your tone tips up, wobbly and tender and ugly in the most delicious way, the way that makes his ribs open with want-
When you cum, it's with a garbled tone. If he weren't touching you, feeling how your pussy twitches and pulls and wets, he'd think you were lying to him, protecting his ego.
But, instead you chuckle, right into the shell of his ear.
"That's how bad I want you."