Transit, 71

The soft click of the suite’s main door was the only warning she received. Lori didn’t flinch. She remained sprawled on her stomach across the vast, opulent bed, propped up on her elbows, the golden phone held casually in her manicured hands1. Her face, a perfect mask of sultry boredom, was illuminated by the screen’s glow as she scrolled through the deluge of worshipful comments her latest posts had summoned. Each crude compliment, each desperate plea from a faceless fan, was a sip of the finest champagne, feeding the glorious, vain creature she had become. The only things she wore were the towering, glossy red platform boots, their laces crisscrossing all the way up her toned thighs.

Ivan P. stepped into the room and paused, his sharp, clinical gaze immediately locking onto the scene before him. The suite was exactly as he’d left it, but the main attraction was even more magnificent than before. Lori’s ass, freshly swollen from her recent transformation, was a masterpiece of surgical perfection. It was huge, shelf-like, and impossibly round, the two perfect globes separated by a deep, inviting cleft. The brand, “MADE IN THE USA,” was stretched taut across her left cheek, a declaration of quality he found darkly amusing2.

Slowly, deliberately, he began to undress. His expensive suit jacket was discarded onto a chair, followed by his tie and shirt. His eyes never left her form as his trousers fell to the floor, until he stood before her completely naked, his erection thick and heavy in the dim light.

Lori finally looked up from her phone, as if just noticing his presence. A slow, predatory smile spread across her plump, glossy lips 3. "I was waiting for you," she purred, her voice a low, throaty rumble of promise. With a fluid, practiced motion, she pushed up onto her hands and knees, presenting her magnificent, augmented ass to him directly. Then, she gave a deliberate, obscene shake of her hips, making the heavy, silicone-filled cheeks jiggle in a way that was utterly mesmerizing. It was a silent, shameless command.

Ivan moved to the bed, his presence radiating a cold, dominant energy. He knelt behind her, the heat from his body washing over her skin. Lori braced herself, expecting the immediate, stretching fullness of his cock, but he had other plans. Instead of penetrating her, he pressed the thick, wet head of his erection into the valley between her butt cheeks. He began to thrust slowly, his shaft sliding up and down between the firm, massive mounds of her ass.

"Oh, fuck," Lori moaned, the sound raw and unfiltered. The friction was incredible. She ground back against him, her own slickness moistening the base of his cock. This was a tease, a prelude she hadn’t expected but now craved with a desperate intensity. His hands gripped her waist, holding her steady as he continued the maddening, rhythmic friction, his cockhead rubbing against her tight, waiting entrance with every stroke.

After what felt like an eternity of this delicious torture, he pulled back. Lori whimpered in protest, but then she felt the blunt pressure of his cockhead pushing insistently against her. She relaxed instantly, her body knowing exactly what to do. He slid inside her with a single, deep, authoritative thrust, filling her completely.

"Yes," she screamed, the name a prayer to the god of her own depravity. "Fuck me, Daddy."

He began to move, fucking her with the relentless, piston-like rhythm of a seasoned porn star. He was using her, a product built for this exact purpose, and she gloried in it. Her heavy, enormous breasts swayed with each powerful thrust, their weight a thrilling pendulum marking the time of their filthy union4444. She moaned loudly, her voice echoing in the suite, a symphony of shameless pleasure. She was an anal queen, and this was her coronation5.

He reached forward, his hands gripping her massive tits, squeezing the firm, surgically-perfected globes roughly. "Perfect," he growled, his fingers finding the silver barbells of her nipple piercings and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. Sharp jolts of pleasure shot through her, making her pussy clench helplessly around nothing as her ass tightened around his cock.

Then, with a sudden movement, he pulled out, flipping her onto her back. He pushed her legs back, lifting them high over her shoulders until her red boots pointed at the ceiling. The position was obscene, leaving her utterly exposed as he drove back into her from the front, his cock sliding deep into her ass once more. Now she could see him, his face a mask of cold lust as he hammered into her. Her breasts, free from gravity, splayed out across her chest like two magnificent offerings. He manhandled them as he fucked her, grabbing, squeezing, and pulling, his touch possessive and rough.

"Look at them," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Look at what you are."

Lori's eyes fluttered open, watching her own tits jiggle and bounce with each of his brutal thrusts. She was a spectacle, a caricature of sex, and it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. The pleasure built, coiling tight and hot in her core, her moans becoming frantic, desperate screams. She was close, so close.

He could feel it. With a final, deep thrust that made her cry out, he pulled out of her ass. He stood over her, his cock slick and dripping. Lori’s eyes widened, her lips parting in anticipation. She knew what was coming. She offered herself to him completely.

He came with a guttural roar, his release erupting in thick, hot ropes that sprayed across her face and chest. Lori closed her eyes, not flinching, taking it all. The hot, sticky seed covered her plump lips, dripped from her chin, and splattered across her enormous, heaving breasts. She lay there, painted in his release, a masterpiece of her own submission. When he was finished, she slowly opened her eyes, a triumphant, slutty smirk on her face. She licked a drop of his cum from her lips, savoring the taste of her own perfect performance.