Before she could make a conscious objection, Susan was imagining herself—a little buffer and taller than she actually was perhaps—holding a naked Frieda to her muscled torso and lowering her down on her cock. She could see all of it: Frieda's blushing face, her delicate hands clinging to her strong shoulders, the feeling of penetration, the feeling of her soft, plump bottom in her large, powerful hands. Susan hadn't been prepared for this, but one usually wasn't for these things. When the mind drifted, it typically went where it wanted to go, with or without your approval. And it happened like a flash.
She walked awkwardly, trying to cool her metaphorical jets and physiologically prevent what she was afraid of happening from happening. But now Frieda was down on her knees in front of her on the soft dirt and moving her hair out of her eyes. With one hand on Susan's crotch she closed her eyes and stretched her mouth open wide...
Susan's dick was not one for negotiations. It rose steadily at a steep, pronounced angle and swelled in size and thickness. Her pussy was not far behind, moistening itself and running a slow stream of arousal down her thigh. She officially had a problem on her hands. Glob in the sky, if having a dick was an annoying inconvenience, having one roughly the size of your forearm—and she had a rather large forearm—was even worse. As much as she cursed her active imagination for getting her into this mess, this was a boner that she didn't intend to waste. It was one of those full, wonderful ones that made you feel big and powerful and virile, that teased you with every shift of your clothing. Of course, she would need to find a place to relieve herself, and that wasn't going to be right in the middle of the plains of Ooo.
Susan pulled her purple dress down over her enormous erection, pushing on it with her hands in an attempt to push it down and conceal it as much as possible. Of course, pushing on it only slid the fabric over it more and fueled her lust. At that point Susan just wanted to fuck the first breathing thing she came across, even if she wouldn't. She groaned in frustration, her ragged, torn dress straining and stretching in her desperate attempts to hide her bulge. A small, moist, dark spot grew where her cockhead was pushing her dress outward, and she felt the hot, wet arousal of her other, smaller organ running down her leg. She offhandedly wondered if she should invest in some underwear one of these days. The short length of the dress and the tattered, frayed state it was in didn't help matters, the ragged hem of the thing just barely stretching beyond her shaft and leaving a little bit of underside visible if one was looking in just the right way.
She looked around nervously, hunching over to help her hands hide the evidence in whatever way she could—though it was not as if an awkwardly hunched over, waddling Susan Strong wouldn't raise the eyebrow of anyone walking by. In the distance she spotted a dense forest and set out to get there as quickly as humanly possible. She clenched her teeth, sweat rolling down her forehead underneath her cat hood. As terrifying and embarrassing as this was, part of her was relishing it, her blood pumping and member throbbing slowly. It would feel amazing when she finally came. That is if she didn't come into her dress or lose the erection all together, both of which were real dangers.
Her hands moved involuntarily with the rest of her body as she waddled forward at an absurd pace, her dick bouncing with every step. The resulting friction threatened to send her over the edge, but she tuned it out and kept going, knowing the constant walking and bouncing could just as easily dull the sensation too much. Her mind clung to the simple image of Frieda smiling shyly and blushing, looking incredibly pretty and giving Susan the strength to go on.
When she finally reached the forest's edge she did not falter for a minute, knowing she had to find a place that was more private, away from the gossipy woodland creatures that would endlessly gab to their friends if they happened upon something so scandalous. If she ran into anyone now though, especially someone she knew, it would be completely unambiguous as to what was going on, her bulging dress resembling a small tent, the moisture from her pussy now freely dripping onto the forest floor. Thankfully the underbrush was dark and dense, giving her a good deal of cover for the time being. Though now she felt her erection fading ever so slightly and panic seized her mind. No no no no
no
, not yet. Was she thinking about it too much? Was she getting used to the stimulation of her hands as she walked? Was she too anxious? She didn't know how to handle this. Of course, if it did fade she could always get it back...but it just wouldn't be the same.
And then she broke free of the bushes and stumbled into a new place. It was a stunningly idyllic, grassy clearing in the middle of the woods, filled with colorful flowers, and in the center a round, modestly sized lake with the clearest surface Susan had ever seen. But she didn't have time to enjoy the scenery. Frantically looking all around her, Susan determined she was completely alone. Not even birds in the trees above. Perfect. It was unrealistic to assume no living things would come through here, but if someone intruded now it would be on them, not her.
Not wasting any more time, she lifted her dress from around the curve of her bulbous glans and walked forward, her rigid length bobbing clumsily as she did. She stopped before the edge of the lake and squatted slowly, taking care not to fall. She sat, her hands and feet resting against the grass. Her inordinate pink length stared her in the face and she stared back at it. Now that she had found a way out of her awkward predicament, she could focus on Frieda again. She didn't even have to think of her naked or doing anything in particular—just the thought of her smiling face and cute laugh was enough to get her started.
Susan brought both her hands up and began running them up the sides of her member. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, finally able to relax. She sat farther back, eventually lying back on the soft grass, letting her hands do all the work. She needed to use both of her hands to get them around it, and even then it was a stretch, linking them together to get the feeling of one big hand stroking her cock. Without lubricant, the sensation of skin and flesh against her palms was pure and unfiltered, in a way that rubbing her hands against lube on her skin was not. Perhaps she would be a little red and raw afterwards, but shooting into that lake would be worth it.
She moaned, separating and alternating her hands now, as if trying to warm herself on a frigid day. She got the message that her cunt was faintly trying to get across, and she would address it, just not quite yet. She cradled her balls in one hand, rubbing and molding her cock slowly and patiently with the other, pawing at the soft, malleable flesh. Sighing, she slid her hand over and back along the hard, unyielding rigidity just beneath the smoothness of her foreskin, needing to move her palm around its circumference to get any kind of consistency. Now that she had found a place to claim as her own, she intended to take her time and enjoy herself. With her eyes closed Susan couldn't see a thing apart from Frieda's lovely brown eyes, her soft parted lips and the twin swells of her bottom and her bosom. She could however feel a gentle breeze blowing across the flowers and the heat of the steadily rising sun warming her bare legs and crotch. She opened her eyes briefly just to take in the nature around her, and was not disappointed.
In the darkness of the lakebed, two piercing, jade almond eyes the size of dinner plates opened, staring up at the masturbating Susan. They watched intently, seeing what she would do next.
Susan sat up on the grass, sacrificing comfort for a front row seat to the action. She slid one hand along the underside of her fossilized stiffness, admiring the size and thickness of her shaft. Her other hand pulled her incredibly tight foreskin down below her bulging, rosy glans, before appreciatively polishing it like an especially distinguished trophy, shivering at the touch. She shook violently and let out a sharp cry before taking her hand away and breathing heavily. It was the kind of stimulation that was best in short, intense bursts. She lifted her balls and moved them out of the way so her other hand could reach down and tentatively touch the soft lips of her labia. It felt good, but it still wasn't the proper time.
The being in the lake bravely inched forward to get a better view, revealing itself to be a woman of blue skin and bluer hair, easily two or three times larger than Susan in build and stature. Her name was Canyon and she often watched the denizens of the forest do various things from inside her lake, from moving around furniture, to sloppy, drooling, spit-stained blowjobs, to the nervous anticipation of a couple's first blindfolded BDSM session, to oratory practice, to wild orgies drenched in gooey spunk and soaked in sweat—and all of it was equally fascinating. It was interesting to her to see how people's daily lives played out. She figured there was nothing wrong with simple curiosity, especially if no one found out. But this was different. This new person was shockingly pretty, with her stout, bulky figure, her thick, bulging biceps, and her feminine curves. Light, wispy strands of blonde hair trailed out from beneath her cat hood and fell delicately over her moaning, sighing face.
There was also her huge, swollen member that cast a long shadow over the lake and seemed to sag under its own weight whenever it wasn't being held. It seemed like it might even be big enough to fit
