“A little more,” Miranda murmured.

“Take it, take it all,” Bruce responded eagerly.

She shifted on his hips, leaning heavily on one of his muscular thighs. “Just a bit more.”

“I’m all yours!” He gave a playful thrust up into her, rocking her slightly off-balance. One of her palms slammed into his abs, steadying herself; her other arm stayed twisted behind her.

“Come on, get in there.”

“I’m in, baby, I’m all inside you.”

“Oopsie, slipped.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“There you go. Easy, now. Almost there.”

He laughed. “Almost? Any more, and I’d have to crawl inside you!”

She looked at him with huge, round eyes. “Which… you couldn’t do.”

“Heh, no, I don’t see how I could. I’m nearly twice your size.”

“Right… right.” Her focus shifted from him to whatever she was doing to her own butt.

He didn’t know and right now he didn’t care. If she wanted to squirm around on his hips and take his thick cock all the way inside, that was fine with him. If she wanted to twist and clench on him, that was great, too. If she didn’t need him to do all the work, all the better, honestly. He wrapped his large hands around her large thighs and gripped her, savoring how her hips slurped his cock so hotly, wrenched him, milked him relentlessly. Holy shit, she was good! She was definitely a keeper, if this was how it was going to be every day.

Since moving in together, Bruce was able to stave off the foreboding sense of entrapment with enthusiastic fucking. Did he want to settle down with one girl? Of course not, but there was something about Miranda that kept him on the line. She was playful, she was gorgeous when she dressed up, and she was a fucking machine. That is, a machine designed for fucking, not merely a machine. Bruce had to step back and admire the chaos of the English language, when such a simple sentence could mean so many things! Anyway, she had a sweet ass and he loved to stare at it when he fucked her from behind. If she’d let him fuck her ass, that would be perfect, but as of yet she’d been stupidly coy about that. Sometimes that pissed him off, but at least it was something to look forward to. If she didn’t let him cum in her ass after he built the patio, which he didn’t totally expect that she would, then he had plans to remake the garage and there’s no way she could say “no” after that. And if she did, well, then maybe he had to broad his horizons and start looking around.

Her voice shook him out of his thoughts. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I’m great. Getting so close. Why?”

“You did this weird thing just now.”

“Weird like what?”

“You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes and shrugged your shoulders. Like you were having a conversation with someone.”

He realized his hands were no longer digging into her supple thighs but were tucked back under his head. When did that happen? “Nah, just lost in my head. Thinking about how great my life is with you.”

Miranda sighed but tried to hide it. Goddamn it, Bruce, why did you have to and say things like that, she thought. So much of the time he was a clumsy, selfish oaf, but once in a while he dropped a gem like this and it just melted her. Not often, but maybe that’s what made it all the sweeter. “How close are you, baby?”

His broad hips wobbled beneath her. “Pretty close. Another minute, maybe.”

She nodded and resumed squirming atop him. She was getting dry again, but it didn’t matter because he was already inside her and couldn’t push his way around. As long as she clenched him every once in a while, he seemed to stay in place and liked it well enough. Now, if her other guy would just cooperate as well and get inside her, she could get this show on the road. Without being able to see him, she had to estimate that Ricky was just about inside her up to his chest, yet he hadn’t tucked his arms inside. Maybe that wasn’t important, she thought, grinding Bruce’s dick inside her… right next to Ricky. The image of that almost made her laugh. How close were they, right now? Could Ricky feel Bruce if he started thrusting inside her? Vaguely she wondered how many layers of tissue there were between them as she massaged the tiny man’s shoulders with her two fingertips, trying to encourage him to get stuffed inside her. She had pictured hiding him inside her ass with just his little head sticking out, but maybe this was okay too. Unless he did something stupid.

Sighing, she tried to scrabble the tiny man’s arms together and nudge them toward her butthole. He was proving highly resistant to hints and could only hope that this was clear enough.

“Message received and message rejected!” Ricky pushed the giant, fumbling fingertips away, over and over again. “Get off me! I’m not going inside your stinky ass! I can already smell it.”

He’d lost sight of so much of his ex-girlfriend, at this point. Her butthole clutched his chest, amazingly. He wouldn’t have thought he could fit inside her, and yet on and on he went inside her. He preferred to fold himself up into as tight a ball as he could manage, rather than stretching out and bumping up against the lining of her rectum… or worse. God, there was so much shit he had to push out of his head… and the puns wouldn’t stop. That was the worst, perhaps worse than curling up in a snug sleeping bag of feminine feces. Which he didn’t want to picture, dammit. He tried to think of what else it could be, what else could feel like this, like a mud pit. Maybe yeah, a thick muddy pit after a rainfall. Except rather than being chilling, it was the internal temperature of Miranda.

Her full, fat butt cheeks rose on either side of him, blocking out all of the bedroom. So much flesh, so much round, succulent flesh… He loved to bury his face in her ass, but even then, he could still see her spine or the ceiling or whatever. Instead, now he espied a very narrow peek at the pillows behind his giantess ex-girlfriend and the broad headboard behind them. Light was coming from somewhere but he couldn’t see it. If he strained, he could just glimpse her round heels behind him, where the bridges of her feet rested on the mattress. That wasn’t a reliable view, either, as her huge, annoying fingers kept struggling to bury him in her ass.

It was insane, how he couldn’t even fight her finger! It just reached into the shadow of her valley, curved down at him, and her round fingertips mashed into his body until they flattened and he could sense the little bones inside them. They bore down on his shoulders, or they stretched out just slightly to shove his arms closer together. Then one finger would stroke his arms until it found his elbows, and it pushed on his elbows and folded his arms, and he watched his forearms disappear beneath the rubbery, wrinkled ring of her asshole. He couldn’t compete with strength, but he could slip his little arms around the large, clumsy fingertip and pull them back out. Her asshole snugged up under his armpits, but his chest was almost clear, so he drew his arms close to his chest, right under her fingertip, and sprung them back out. It took her a few moments to realize he’d done so, but then her fingers would start searching for his spindly arms once more.

Why didn’t she understand he wouldn’t want to be stuffed inside her shitter? If only there were some way to talk with her right now, find out what the fuck this crazy bitch was thinking! Her gigantic hand was so insistent and determined to get him in there.

Should he trust her? Could Miranda be trusted?

Ricky frowned at the thick tissues that bunched just below his nipples. If anything, between the two of them, he was the one who couldn’t be trusted. So when her fingers returned and gathered his arms and bent them in half and shoved them inside… he let them. Fine, I trust you, Miranda, he thought. I trust you’re not going to suffocate me inside your butt. Let’s see where this goes.

At last! Miranda gasped with relief, causing Bruce to absently apologize. He took it as a compliment when she uttered pain or surprise at his cock, flattered that he was too big for a healthy woman to contain. He told her so, said it was the only thing that got him through a bad day, sometimes. It took her a long time to figure out how he was not bragging about feeling like a man for causing a woman pain where she was most vulnerable. She shouldn’t have had to do that heavy lifting, but…

Anyway. Ricky was inside her, finally. Now she carefully probed his little body, feeling exactly where he was inside her clenching ring. Her nails dug into one massive butt cheek and spread her crack wider, to give him a little more room. She didn’t want him feeling overwhelmed and desperate, because that guaranteed he’d do something to fuck this up.

But how did this feel to her? Miranda churned Bruce’s cock very slowly, thinking about this. Her thick, hard boyfriend was stuffed inside her front, nearly her entire ex-boyfriend, fragile and squirmy, curled up inside her back. If she had a hamburger, she’d be stuffed everywhere. That was kind of a funny picture, eating a greasy-ass burger, dripping grease down her chest, over her oblivious boyfriend’s cock, while Ricky danced like a panicky little bug in her butt.

“How’re you doing, baby?” she asked Bruce, mostly. “You ready to come home?”

The dense, buff man took a couple moments to refocus on her and riddle out what she was asking. When he did, he smiled broadly at her and waggled his eyebrows.

“All right, then.” She rested her hands upon his hard pecs, so large and round, and shifted a lot of her weight upon his chest. She couldn’t detect that she even made a dent on him: he was a marble slab for her to rest on, unyielding and reliable. Her thick curls flung around her cheeks as her hips rose and fell gently, methodically. There was something about getting away with something this serious that aroused her: the familiar grind of Bruce’s cock deep inside her, coupled with the sensation of a tiny, living being stuffed inside her rear, struggling for his life… here came the moisture again. She rode the fat cock easier now, squatting a little faster on his hips. He responded by getting harder, just like the trooper he was, and she had to be careful with how deeply she admitted him. She knew, yes, he would’ve liked to bury himself entirely inside her.

This would’ve been the perfect moment to warn him against making such a wish, complete with visual accompaniment.

Focus, focus! “How’s that, honey? You like that?”

His laugh was ragged and deep. “You’re one to talk. It feels like you’re getting off on this pretty good. You know what?”

“What, lover?”

“What if we tried to cum together tonight?”

It took a lot of willpower to keep from jumping off the bed. That would’ve been the perfect ruse, any other time, but with only Ricky’s head sticking out of her butt, she had no idea what that would do to him. When she came, she climaxed pretty hard, and that meant sneezing sometimes, getting a leg cramp rarely, and a highly active asshole. She knew that. She felt her own asshole gape and flex and clamp shut on her own; Bruce liked to slip a finger inside her, and he sounded impressed at how active her ass was when she came.

Doing that now, to the tiny little man wedged so deep inside her… that could be trouble. It could be fatal.

Oh shit! the thought of her cheating ex disappearing inside her asshole just as she came, that got her so fucking wet. It’s like the huge penis her pussy labored to swallow was otherwise frictionless. Her juices ran down her inner thighs, coating Bruce’s hairy thighs, so she likewise glided over them as well. He had a love-hate relationship with how wet she got: he knew that more lubrication meant smoother, faster fucking, but the sight of the stained sheets gave him the dry heaves.

Ricky savored that. Miranda used to laugh at Ricky kissing the sheets after they made love, pretending to gnaw on her wet spots as though he couldn’t get enough of her. Ricky, so hungry for her sex, now nearly entombed in her big, fat butt.

How could anyone be bored in a world where literally anything could happen? You never knew what bizarre shit the next day could hold.

Bruce was getting close. His long, beefy arms unfolded and he clutched the bed sheets in fists like sledge hammers. She sucked in more and more air to feed her muscles, and she doubled her tempo on his hips. So thick, so fucking thick inside her. There were definitely parts of Bruce she wished she could detach from the big, stupid, oafish parts and keep for herself in private moments. If she could take a couple inches off his cock and store it her nightstand… oh, God, she gooshed at the thought of that.

“I’m almost there, baby,” she lied. He couldn’t detect the lie and he didn’t care whether she came. He told her how great that was and held his breath, and that meant he was less than a minute from bursting. Good, right on schedule and time to deploy all the other little things she knew he liked. She curled her fingers and scraped her nails backward across his pecs, flicking his nipples. She let her head hang forward slightly, let her lips go slack, and mustered up a little drool  to well up in her bottom lip and overflow. A slim silver thread shot from her mouth and struck his sternum; his eyelids fluttered open at the contact, in time to see the shiny spittle stretch and snap from her mouth.

“Holy shit, I love when that happens,” he said, as he said every time.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, don’t be! That’s fucking awesome.”

That was their script, too. She pretended to be ashamed, and he pretended to have the grandness of spirit to overlook her fuckups. Having a man who was an open book came in handy sometimes. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, trusting that he’d look up and see that and fall for her all over again, and she clenched his dick as hard as she could.

He came hard. He always came hard. It’s like he held himself back to get the most out of an orgasm, but every single time. No such thing as a quickie with Bruce: every time he blew his wad, it had to be amplified with ten or twenty minutes of restraint. In a way, she admired him, because he insisted on the best experience each time. In contrast, sometimes Miranda wanted him to pump and shove and stuff her for a long time, and she’d come so hard she could barely walk. Other times, it was strictly mechanical and she just wanted to get off as soon as possible—almost just to get it out of the way. It was like an itch that built up inside her, and she couldn’t focus on anything else until she popped that erotic zit. Bruce was usually up for that, but sometimes he wouldn’t give her her cookie until he got his, and, yeah, that could take forever because he held back, to the point where she just wanted to punch him and fuck his unconscious body because it would be quicker.

Wow, her mind was wandering. It was hard to focus on anything right now: she needed Bruce to cum, but she was hung up on how badly she wanted to kick him out of the bed, out of the house. He was such a fucking caveman most of the time, but then he could be thoughtful and sweet or clueless in an adorable way. Was that enough to throw him over for Ricky? And who said she was getting back together with him, anyway? Getting rid of Bruce didn’t mean she had a slot that needed to be filled. She laughed to herself at the thought of that, as she rhythmically clenched Bruce’s fat cock, making sure she got everything out of him, the way he liked. And she didn’t think she disturbed Ricky too bad, either, so… she was awesome. She did it.

Miranda fucking sucks, thought Ricky. What a goddamn bitch. She stuffed him up her asshole, right up the portal where logs of human waste dump out, and he put up with that. And rather than stretch his body down her internal corridor, he curled up to stay unobtrusive, stay out of the way, keep to himself.  And yet, as tiny as he was now, he wasn’t small enough to avoid feeling his rival’s monster cock throbbing against him, right next door.

It was disgusting. It was more than disgusting: it was a fucking nightmare. As horrible as it was to be embedded in this giantess’s shitter, he could at least focus on her cute little asshole. Even at this close-up perspective, it was still pretty in its way, healthy and pink/orange and so active as it suckled his body. It would’ve been nice to have been turned around, so he could study her pussy, maybe massage her as far as he could reach, but it was a small mercy that he couldn’t because he only would’ve been confronted with the old-growth redwood of Bruce’s gigantic cock. No one needed to know that his rival had a member literally larger than his entire person.

But then he was trapped in her ass, and rather than make the best of that, he had to feel that monster genitalia grinding against him, right through whatever separated her colon from her vagina. Skin, fat, tissues, maybe some veins: it wasn’t enough. Ricky could feel everything: when Bruce went a little soft, when he got raging hard, and every little clench Miranda gave in response.

That. That was the real kick in the teeth. It was bad enough to basically be curled up with that huge shithead’s penis, but to feel Miranda responding to him, acting on him… He could have slit his own throat. It was a kick in the teeth, a punch to the gut, a crushing blow where he was tenderest. Feeling the woman he still lusted after, very intimately feeling how the epicenter of her arousal responded to this slope-browed cretin…

And there was nothing he could do about it except hug himself in the cramp, stinky darkness of where the feces came out. What a world. Who could be curious about the next day, when something like this could happen?