Meeting Hoshoa

I have a confession to make, readers. I've given up all control of this story; there's no outline that I'm following, no three-act structure, I just sit down with my laptop every night and let the story do as it pleases. This chapter begins and ends in very different places emotionally, and I think chapter 5 might be a bit of a melancholy one; but I offer up a quote from Guillermo Del Toro: "Accepting that you are a monster gives you the leeway to not behave like one." I also leave you with the promise that however long the winter, spring returns.

CW: Monsterfucking (human male/Japanese Oni female), femdom, size difference, BBWs, dommy mommy play, the word "cunt" used to refer to vulva and vagina, some food play/feederism, emotional vulnerability, monster accidentally injures her lover but is remorseful.

***

It was mid-morning by the time I woke up, sunlight filtering in through the blinds. I felt so refreshed, so relaxed...so soggy. Hoshoka's face was buried in my hair, and she was giving me the snore and drool combo like a supersized bulldog. She also had me pinned, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist and legs entangled with mine. For how "diminished" she viewed her physique as being currently, she was phenomenally strong; even in a deep sleep, there was no wriggling free of her powerful embrace. When I tried, she hugged me tighter and growled against my scalp without waking up. I also realized just how much heat she was putting out; my back felt like it had an electric blanket pressing into it, instead of Hoshoka's breasts and belly.

After about fifteen minutes of ineffectual wriggling, I stroked the back of her hand softly and said, "Mama, I need to get up."

She stirred briefly at that, and mumbled the word "no" into my hair before resettling.

"C'mon, Mama, let me up." I tried squirming free again. I felt her exhale sharply through her nose and her hands flexed against my stomach.

"Teddy bear stays here with me," she murmured, a tone of finality in her half-awake voice. "Teddy bear has a very important job snuggling Mama."

I had one more card to play.

"C'mon, I gotta pee."

She shifted, and finally said, "I want to say that that's not my problem, but I don't want my bed warmed in that way. Answer nature's call and hurry back here." Her arms unclasped, letting me slip out of bed. The sweat on my bare back chilled instantly in the cool morning air once I was free of Hoshoka's furnace-hold on me.

I stumbled to the bathroom and relieved myself, washing my hands and hurrying back to the bedroom as instructed. There, I found that in my absence Hoshoka had pulled the pillows in close to her body and coccooned herself in the comforter, with just her smirking face and horns peeking out at me.

"What are you prepared to do to gain entrance to my stronghold, sweet boy?" she teased.

"I could introduce you to doughnuts," I countered. She arched an eyebrow.

"Tell me about these doughnuts," she purred.

"A variety of pastries made by frying dough in hot oil. Some of coated with powdered sugar or cinnamon, others are iced like cakes, some are filled with jam or cream." I felt confident that this would win her over.

"And you eat these for breakfast?" she asked, visibly intrigued.

"Oh yeah. Sometimes two or three of them at a time. Usually with coffee."

She looked thoughtful. "I've seen references to 'coffee' in shows. It's a bitter black drink, isn't it? Like a cup filled with squid ink?"

I laughed. "No, not like squid ink, exactly," I said. "It's made from a kind of bean, like chocolate is. It's ground fine and boiling water is poured through it. You can add sugar, cream, other flavors to make it more palatable. It's got caffeine in it, which helps wake you up and makes you more alert."

She unfurled, spreading the comforter open like wings to reveal her nude, slightly-sweaty form. "You've won me over with your offer of fried cakes and castle sentry drinks, sweet boy. Mama and her bed are all yours again...after you feed me."

"About that. I don't have a ton of money to my name, and you have a...healthy appetite," I said awkwardly. "Did the guy you eat have a wallet, do you remember? If you're ordering ChowDash on his account, maybe he's got a debit card or something we can use to buy breakfast."

She made a sympathetic noise, and rolled over, fumbling for the nightstand and rattling open a drawer. She came up with a slightly-gnawed leather wallet on a chain.

"Is this what you're looking for?" she asked, "I'd pulled it off him before eating him, but it didn't have anything I recognized as money inside. And the outside tasted like ass-sweat."

"I don't want to imagine what that tastes like," I said, "but yes, let's take a look."

Inside the wallet was $40 cash, a student ID and driver's license - the guy looked pretty much exactly like what Hoshoka had described, and he was wearing a fedora in his student ID photo - and a debit card.

"Bingo," I told her. "Breakfast is on this guy today. I'll take a quick shower and go get us something to eat."

"Be quick about it, sweet boy," she smiled as she curled back into the covers.

I washed the tangy perfume of Oni pussy off my junk and shampooed the saliva out of my hair, then hurriedly dressed and got in my car. There was a Tammy's Doughnuts franchise around the block - just like there was one around every block - and I was famished despite how much pizza I'd eaten the night before.

I ordered three sausage, egg and cheese breakfast sandwiches, four hash browns and a dozen assorted doughnuts. I also bought a regular coffee for myself and, knowing Hoshoka's sweet tooth, a large frozen coffee with whipped cream and caramel syrup. The heavyset older woman behind the counter smiled as she took my order.

"Rough night at the frat?" she guessed, looking at my still-damp hair and scruffy beard. I looked at her uncomprehending for a moment, and then said, "Uh, yeah, something like that." I hoped I didn't still smell like sex; Hoshoka had a very rich, powerful body odor that I guessed was laden with pheromones because it didn't smell gross to me at all, but it was a scent that permeated the bed and couch and lingered around the house. If any of her scent was still clinging to me after my shower, I couldn't detect it, but I was a little paranoid that I'd just gotten used to it enough to not notice.

I paid and collected my order when it was ready, and returned to the house. Hoshoka had fallen back asleep, the comforter wrapped around her waist, one pillow under her head and the other tucked in her armpit.

"Breakfast is here," I told her softly, and she snorted herself awake, blinking in the light.

"You're serving Mama breakfast in bed?" she murmured as she levered herself halfway into a seated position. "How thoughtful of my sweet boy." She stretched her arms out over her head, rotating one shoulder and craned her neck in a couple of directions as she managed to fully sit up.

"The raised bed is still strange to me," she commented idly as I unpacked her sandwiches and hash browns. "It's mostly comfortable, though obviously not meant for a woman of my, err, dimensions. It's certainly an improvement from sleeping on the ground or propped up against a tree."

"If I can figure out how much money this guy has - had - maybe we can start planning on getting you a bigger bed at some point," I said.

"That would be lovely," she commented with a smile as she took out half of a hash brown in a single bite. Chewing thoughtfully, she mumbled around it, "this is a doughnut? It's more savory than I thought it would be."

"No, no," I corrected, "that's actually something called a hash brown. It's potato - a starchy vegetable - shredded, repacked into a patty, and fried in oil. Sorry, I didn't get a chance to tell you all of what I've got here. So hash browns, and then these are breakfast sandwiches - eggs, pork sausage and cheese on a toasted bread roll. I also got you a cold coffee drink with some flavored syrups and whipped cream, so it's like a dessert with caffeine in it. And then we have a dozen assorted doughnuts for you to explore."

"My

man

," she breathed after she'd swallowed the remainder of her hash brown. "Do you have any idea how phenomenally sexy you are to me right now? This is an admirable meal you picked out for me, thank you."

I blushed. "I mean, you've been very generous, uh, with your body towards me, I feel like this is the least I could do." I mumbled awkwardly. I've never been great at accepting praise.

She nudged me with her foot. "Take my compliments or I'll fuck them into you," she said seriously. "Nobody has ever, EVER, treated me with the kindness and thoughtfulness you're consistently showing me through every one of your actions. I mean, fuck, the last man to bring me a drink was that fucking shit-prick priest, you know?"

She fumbled with the plastic straw, and then, annoyed, pulled it out and took the lid off her drink. She daintily licked the swirl of whipped cream and caramel syrup off the top, smacked her lips a few times, and took a sip.

"This is fucking amazing," she said, licking her lips. "This is a level of sweetness and decadence that the Emperor would have gotten a few times a year. You really do make me feel like an Imperial concubine when you bring me things like this, Dave."

She punctuated her statement by taking an enormous bite of her first breakfast sandwich, inhaling half the sandwich. Her cheeks bulged as she chewed, giving me sexy eyes as she did so. She swallowed, and hiccuped.

"Fuck - hic! - being sexy, I guess," she groused.

"Take a drink," I told her. "These sandwiches always do the same thing to me."

She took a swig of her coffee and held her breath as she swallowed. The hiccups subsiding, she forced herself to take smaller bites as she continued on her sandwich.

"This is also delicious," she said as she licked the last crumbs of sausage and bread from her fingers. She helped herself to another hash brown, crunching thoughtfully while watching me eat my own sandwich. By the time I finished, she was halfway through her second sandwich.

Washing her sandwich down with another swallow of coffee, she pointed at the pink and orange Tammy's box. "Is that, then, the legendary doughnuts I've been promised?" she asked. I nodded and opened the box, showing her the variety I'd gotten for her enjoyment. Her eyes widened.

"So many choices," she mused. "And I can eat as I please?"

"I mean, I'd like to have one, but other than that, yeah, help yourself." I said.

"I have a request, young man, and I hope you won't think it's too frivolous," she said, sultry and warm, sliding her hand up my thigh. "I want you to...cuddle me...while we eat our doughnuts. Is that...something you'd do for me?" The smoky seductress front she was putting on cracked a little bit as she made her request, giving me a tiny glimpse of vulnerability.

Squeezing her hand in mine, I gave her a reassuring smile. "I'd love to, Mama." She smiled back - a little shyly, I thought. She scooted down the bed and pulled the comforter back around herself, resting her head on her pillow; I put the box of doughnuts in easy reach for her, and stripping down, got into bed behind her and spooned up against her.

"I've never had a flaccid cock against my ass," she giggled. "And...I've never been held like this. You're a cozy teddy bear from behind, too."

I kissed between her shoulder blades. "Well until this morning, I'd never been the little spoon," I told her. "So we're both getting cozy experiences today."

"Little spoon?" she asked.

"Yeah, laying together like this is called spooning," I explained, "right now I'm being the big spoon and you're the little spoon. When I woke up I was the little spoon. It feels safe, doesn't it?"

"It does," she agreed. "Nobody's ever held you like that before?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Been the big spoon plenty of times, but never the little one." Her hand found mine and squeezed.

"I'll be your big spoon any time you want, sweet boy," she said softly. "Now," she continued, "tell me about these doughnuts. Which do you want?"

I wriggled upwards so I could look over her shoulder and pointed. "Could I have that one there? I think that's a Boston Creme." My cock started to stiffen as I inadvertently dragged it up the crack of her ass, but I tried to not press it into her back while we were eating.

"Boston Creme..." she echoed as she picked up the doughnut I'd indicated. She sniffed it, giggled, and took a surprisingly modest bite.

"Mmmf!" she said as she chewed. Swallowing hurriedly, she held the doughnut up, showing the cream filling slowly leaking out the bite. "You make me look like this!" she announced proudly. I laughed with her.

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but yeah, it does look like that," I said as she passed the doughnut over her shoulder to me. She selected a jam-filled powdered doughnut for her first, making a variety of pleased noises as she bit into it and discovered the filling.

I scooted back down into prime spooning position, my cock rising to full hardness against Hoshoka's big soft ass cheeks. She could tell I was hard - I knew because she started gently rubbing her butt against me - but otherwise didn't acknowledge my erection while she was eating. She kept up a running commentary between bites, telling me her opinion of each doughnut in turn; she enjoyed the filled doughnuts more than the regular doughnuts, referring to them as "delicious little treasure chests." Of the regular doughnuts, the chocolate cake and red velvet doughnuts received the highest marks from her. When she finished her last doughnut, she casually pushed the box off the bed and pressed her ass firmly against me.

"Have I teased you enough, my sweet boy? Kept your handsome cock hard and unfulfilled for long enough? You could have slid this wonderful hard club into me and fucked me senseless while I was eating, you know. Made me your own fat Boston Creme!" She giggled.

"And maybe I still will," I teased back, grinding against her watermelon-sized ass cheeks. The pressure brought a soft moan from her.

"Take me from behind today, Dave?" she asked softly, looking over her shoulder at me. I kissed her shoulders more.

"I would love to, Mama. Put this beautiful ass in the air for me, please."

She giggled a little. "Please," she repeated, grinning as she did. "Please! Oh, my sweet boy - you're the first man to use that word with me for anything other than 'please don't eat me, giantess.' Very well, since you said 'please,' I'll put this big ass up for you!"

She kicked off the comforter and rolled on to her stomach, drawing her knees up to lift her hips off the mattress. Her pussy was glistening wet already, her lips spreading on their own to welcome me. I ran my hands up her thighs to squeeze her ass cheeks as I got between her legs. I couldn't help myself; putting my hands on her cheeks I clapped them together a few times, loudly. We both laughed.

"Yes, Dave," she said between giggles, "it's a very fat ass. Are you complaining?"

"Not in the least," I told her, "just hoping I've got enough cock to get past it into your pussy from this angle." I pressed forward, her ass squishing against my belly; her hand found my cock, stroking and teasing as she guided me into her pussy. I could just barely get my cock halfway in her from this angle; hard thrusting was going to be out of the question, and I told her as much.

"So be gentle with Mama," she purred. "Take your time and let me luxuriate in how you feel..."

Holding her hips, I began to thrust slowly; she kept one hand between her thighs to keep me from slipping out, one finger tip lightly resting against the underside of my cock. Her pussy felt even hotter than the rest of her body had pressed against me earlier; I could feel the temperature difference as I slid in and out of her.

"That's my good boy," she murmured softly, "giving Mama exactly the fucking she wants...give me those nice, slow strokes..."

"Anything for Mama," I murmured back, my hands sliding over her hips and sides. There was a dirty mirror on the closet door, facing the bed; I was watching her body move in the reflection as I humped her, all the things I couldn't see from my angle - her thighs jiggling, her breasts and belly wobbling with each thrust. Hottest of all though, was seeing her eyes drift shut in dreamy satisfaction, her tongue running over her lips and tusks like it had a mind of its own.

"That's right," she said softly, dreamily. "Mama gets anything and everything she wants from her sweet boy...and he loves to serve his Mama, doesn't he?" She flexed her pussy muscles around my cock, almost pushing me out of her, as she said this. The only thing keeping me from popping free was the guiding touch of her hand.

"Oh yes!" I gasped, feeling her pussy massaging the head of my cock with short, focused clenchings. "I love serving Mama Hoshoka...she's so sexy...the sexiest I've ever seen..." Holding her hips firmly, I tried to push myself back as deep inside her as I could. She moaned as I did, long and low. Her hand shifted off my cock, and the slick sounds of her rubbing her clit reached me between thrusts.

"Let me hear your pleasure, sweet boy...make some noise for your Mama..." she groaned, her legs starting to tremble. I was clinging to her hips, trying to steady myself for her oncoming climax; her ass wasn't even clapping against my stomach any more, I just stayed pressed tight against it, hoping my cock wouldn't slip out of her sopping pussy before she orgasmed.

"Oh, Mama," I moaned, "I love being your sweet boy...oh fuck...oh fuck...oh Mama..."

I could feel my own orgasm building, my balls starting to tighten; the rhythmic contractions of her pussy urging me to cum with her.

"Cum with me, baby," she murmured, and it sent me over the edge, her orgasm rising to meet mine. My first spurt of cum entered her, but as her climax struck it pushed my cock out of her; the rest of my load ended up splashed across her inner thighs and soaking her bush. Spent, she collapsed onto her stomach and I let myself down next to her. After a few moments to catch our breath, she rolled onto her back and I turned on my side to face her. Her face was flushed a deeper crimson than its usual shade and a thin sheen of sweat shown on her skin. She gave me a smile and tousled my hair with one hand, before glancing down between her splayed, still-trembling legs.

"That's my good boy," she purred, inspecting the mess I'd made in her soft dark curls. "So much hot cum for Mama..."

"I'm sorry I didn't get it all inside you," I started, but she put a wet finger to my lips.

"No," she said firmly, "do not apologize. You should be proud of making me so slippery! Whenever your legs start working again, though...I would like a cloth I can use to clean this up. Having cum drying in my nether hair is not my idea of a good time." She then leaned in, kissed me, and smiled again.

After a moment, I pushed myself back out of bed and, casting around, found the boxers I'd worn the previous day. They were cleaner than most of the clothing scattered across the floor, much of which might have predated Hoshoka's release, and would be washed soon anyways. I began dabbing the cum off her thighs and loins, eliciting a giggle from her.

"Humor a vain woman," she said as I tossed the boxers aside and laid back down, curled up against her side with her arm around my shoulders. "What did you like best about that?"

I thought for a moment, and then drew her attention to the mirror. "I really enjoyed watching you," I told her, "you had your eyes closed, mouth open, tongue out, whole body trembling. It was honestly really hot to see."

She looked at me, eyes narrowed, and gave me a playful swat on the chest. "You utter flatterer," she said, "there's no way in Hell that you really enjoyed that more than orgasming."