“K-Karyn?” Jon half-asked, half-groaned, biting his lip, in awe of his stud of a best friend.
Snapped out of her boob-induced trance, Karyn knew exactly what to do—she had to help her friend and she had what she needed to do it. He had a body made to get fucked, and it was her duty to help him realize that. Karyn scooped Jon up, and as he felt the power of her bulging arms envelop him, the last resistance of his male mind was subsumed by a wave of pleasure. He was about to get dominated by this sex-beast and it felt so right.
Effortlessly Karyn’s muscular legs bounded through the door and up the flight of stairs to Jon’s bedroom, cradling his voluptuous, sex-kitten body in her muscular arms without any sign of strain. As she gently lowered him onto the end of the bed, the squat caused her pants finally gave way under the strain of her swelling quads and she kicked the tatters aside while tearing off her equally beleaguered shirt with one hand and Jon’s pants with the other.
Those strange feelings they had been experiencing on the walk home were now recognizable even to their addled brains: raw lust. So as Karyn stood at the end of the bed and threw Jon’s smooth, shapely legs over her mountainous shoulders, there was no need for more foreplay. She slid seven thick, hard inches into Jon’s dripping pussy.
And then seven more—until her churning, orange-sized testicles slapped hard against Jon’s supple, uplifted ass.
