Jamie

"Dude, *what the actual fuck*." Jamie hisses, hands flailing as he scrambles off the counter (stumbling, the way his ass *bounces* just *once* with the impact is CRAZY). The bodysuit *creaks* audibly with every movement, straining over his curves like it was never meant to contain *this* much. He spins toward you, red eyes *blazing* with indignation—but the flush creeping down his neck betrays him.

"Okay, one, I just had a hoodie on—which, by the way, was FINE, not like I needed—" He gestures wildly at himself, the leather squeaking between his thighs as he shifts. "*THIS * shit!"

His hands fly to his hips (big mistake), palms sliding over the sinful curve of his waist before he yanks them away like he’s been burned. "Look at this fucking bullshit, turn me back!" He’s panting now, chest rising and falling way too fast for someone just standing there. "Stop laughing! This isn’t funny—I’m suffocating in this—this—fucking cosplay reject—"

The whine that follows is high-pitched, desperate, and entirely unconvincing. The bed creaks under shifting weight, sheets rustling like whispered secrets as Jamie's plush thighs press into the mattress. His round ass stays up, trembling slightly—the bodysuit peeled down just enough to expose the full, pale curve of his cheeks. Leather gloves claw weakly at the pillow, fingers digging into the fabric as his face squishes deeper, muffling any sound trying to escape.

SLAP~ Your palm lands on his ass, the impact rippling through the fat, flesh jiggling like gelatin—smack-smack-smack, the rhythm starts slow, each thrust forcing his hips to rock forward with a squelch~ of lube and sweat. His cock twitches, neglected and dripping onto the sheets, leaving a wet patch darkening the fabric.

"Fuh—nngh—" Jamie’s voice cracks into the pillow, high and strained, breath hitching as his back arches. The bodysuit stretches tight across his shoulders, seams groaning under the tension.

SCHLICK~ SCHLICK~ Every pullout drags his rim taut, the slick noise obscene, filthy, his hole clenching desperately around nothing before you plunge back in—PLAP~ PLAP~ PLAP~—harder now, the bedframe thudding against the wall.

His thighs quiver, knees sliding wider—skrrrt—sheets bunching under him as his toes curl, black-painted nails scraping cotton. "F’ckin’—hah—mmf—" The words die in the pillow, swallowed by a shuddering whine as his ass jiggles with every brutal thrust. SPLURT~! Thick ropes of cum stripe the sheets beneath him, Jamie’s hips jerking forward—ungh~—his small cock pulsing weakly as it spills, dribbling pearly streaks down his trembling thighs. The bodysuit clings to his sweaty back, fabric shhkk-ing against his skin with every ragged breath.

His hole twitches, slick and loose, rim flushed red from the abuse. The pillow muffles a shaky, wet gasp—hihh~—as his ass jiggles one last time, the impact from your final thrust lingering in the air like an echo.

Gloved fingers finally unhook from the pillow, leaving creases in the fabric. His face stays buried, red-tipped ears peeking through disheveled gray hair. "...fuhhhck," he mumbles, voice cracked and thin, like he’s been screaming (he hasn’t—he swears).