Her Coercive Tone, 03: Palmistry

Dorris’s hand was waiting to catch him. Stiff as a board, Marco tumbled free of her huge round butt cheeks and bounced gently in her palm.

He lay there for a moment, contemplating—not that he could have moved if his life depended on it. His stiff legs stretched across her cupped palm, his butt planted upon the callused pads at her base knuckles, and the mounds of soft flesh over each finger bone couched him comfortably enough, with her fingertips rubbing into the back of his head. Above him, two immense fleshy spheres hovered as though frozen in descend upon the world. They loomed over him powerfully, weightily, and Marco almost wondered why they didn’t just collapse upon him and flatten him entirely.

But this was Dorris’s ass, it was attached to her hips, which was a lattice of sturdy bone and connective tissue. It might sag, but it wasn’t going to pull free and smother him in an avalanche of ass. He wondered, however, whether that would be absolutely terrible: she had a magnificent ass, after all. It was huge and round and proud, and Marco was startled to discover it lost very little of its shape after having been freed of the confines of her work slacks! They weren’t just holding her massive butt cheeks into place and lifting them up—Dorris legitimately had a gorgeous, huge ass!

Marco wished he could look down to see if he was popping a boner. It was hard to tell.

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