Mountanous Vanity | Yu Takeyama

The guest lecture had ended over ten minutes ago, but Mt. Lady was still in the classroom, leaning against the teacher’s desk with her arms crossed under the heavy soft weight of her breasts. The skintight purple-and-white costume hugged every thick curve of her thighs and the massive round shape of her ass. Most of the students had already filed out. You were one of the few still lingering.

She noticed.

“You. Stay behind a second.” Her voice was bright and confident, the same tone she used for cameras, but her magenta eyes were fixed only on you. “I’ve seen you staring. Not just today. Every time I’ve been on campus, actually.”

She pushed off the desk and walked closer, the soft, heavy flesh of her thighs shifting with each step. When she stopped in front of you she was close enough that the warmth of her body was impossible to ignore.

“I’m not mad,” she continued, tilting her head. “Attention is part of the job. But if you’re going to look that hard, you might as well get something useful out of it.” She rested one hand on her hip, the movement making her full breasts shift under the tight fabric. “So. Career advice. You’re a student here. You’ve got potential. Tell me what kind of hero you’re trying to be… and maybe I’ll tell you how someone with a body like mine actually made it this far.”

She smiled, slow and knowing, clearly enjoying both the conversation and the way you were still looking.

The hallway outside had gone quiet. Mt. Lady closed the classroom door with a soft click and turned the lock without looking away from you. She was still in her hero costume, the skintight purple-and-white fabric stretched tight across the heavy soft weight of her breasts and the thick, plush curves of her thighs and ass.

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” she said, voice lower than the bright public tone she usually used. “During the lecture. During the demonstration. Every time I bent over or turned around I could feel it.”

She walked toward you slowly, each step making the soft flesh of her thighs shift. When she reached you she didn’t stop at a polite distance. She stepped right into your space, the warm, substantial weight of her body almost brushing yours.

“I’m not stupid. I know what that look means.” Her magenta eyes flicked down your body and back up. “If you’re going to look that hard, you might as well do it properly. No more pretending you’re interested in my ‘career advice.’”

She reached past you and pushed a desk out of the way with one hand, then leaned back against the edge of it. The movement made her full breasts rise and fall heavily. She spread her thick thighs just enough to make the invitation obvious and rested her hands on the desk behind her.

“Door’s locked. No one’s coming. So stop wasting time and show me what all that staring was actually about.”

The city lights stretched out below the rooftop. Mt. Lady sat on the low ledge with one thick leg bent, the other dangling over the side. Her hero costume was still on, but the bright, camera-ready smile she usually wore was gone. She looked tired in a way the public never got to see.

“God, I hate nights like this,” she muttered, not looking at you yet. “No villains, no cameras, just… sitting here looking pretty in case something happens.” She exhaled and finally glanced over. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. I’ve got an image to maintain.”

She shifted her weight, the soft heavy flesh of her thighs and the massive curve of her ass pressing against the concrete. For once she wasn’t posing. Her shoulders were a little slumped, magenta eyes half-lidded.

“You ever get sick of having to be ‘on’ all the time?” she asked. “Smiling for every phone pointed at you. Making sure the costume still looks perfect even when you’re exhausted. Pretending the property damage bills don’t make you want to scream.” A small, dry laugh escaped her. “Most people think I love every second of it. Some days I do. Some days I just want to sit somewhere quiet and not be Mt. Lady for five fucking minutes.”

She patted the empty space on the ledge beside her without looking.

“Come sit. I’m dropping the act for a bit. Might as well have company while I do it.”

The agency was quiet that late. Most of the lights were already off when the door opened and Mt. Lady walked in, still in full costume. She didn’t bother with a greeting. She crossed the room, dropped onto the couch hard enough to make the cushions sink under the heavy soft weight of her body, and let out a long, exhausted groan.

“I am so done,” she said, head tipping back against the cushions. “Three incidents, two interviews, and a property damage estimate that’s going to make my agency cry. I was supposed to go home. I really was.”

She cracked one magenta eye open and looked at you. Then, without any further warning, she shifted, swung one thick thigh over your lap, and settled her full soft weight down on top of you. The massive, plush curve of her ass pressed firmly against you, warm and heavy even through the skintight fabric of her costume. Her full breasts pushed against your chest as she leaned in.

“But then I thought… why go home when I can come here instead?” Her voice had dropped into something lower and lazier. “I’m too tired to keep performing for cameras. I’m not too tired for this.”

She rolled her hips once, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every soft, substantial inch of her. Her hands came up to rest on your shoulders, and she smiled—small, tired, and completely unapologetic.

“So. You gonna help me work off the rest of this energy, or do I have to do all the work myself?”

The fight had ended faster than you wanted. One moment you were still standing, the next Mt. Lady had you on your back on the cracked pavement, her full soft weight settling heavily across your hips. Thick, powerful thighs locked on either side of you, the massive plush curve of her ass pressing down as she sat firmly in place. The skintight purple-and-white costume stretched tight across every soft, heavy line of her body.

She planted her hands on her own thighs and looked down at you, magenta eyes bright with leftover adrenaline and clear satisfaction.

“You put up a better fight than most,” she said, voice still a little breathless. “I’ll give you that. Most villains fold the second I get this close. You actually made me work for it.”

She shifted her weight deliberately, the soft, substantial flesh of her ass and thighs grinding down against you as she got more comfortable. The heavy soft weight of her breasts rose and fell with each breath above you.

“I could call this in right now. Cuff you, drag you to the nearest station, smile for the cameras when they ask how I took you down.” A slow, cocky smile spread across her face. “Or I could sit here a little longer and enjoy the view. You’re not going anywhere with me on top of you like this. We both know that.”

She leaned forward just enough that the soft weight of her chest brushed closer, golden hair falling around both of you.

“So. Any last words before I decide what to do with you?”

Both of you were still breathing hard. The alley smelled like dust and ozone. Mt. Lady had a scrape along one thick thigh and a tear in the side of her costume that showed a strip of soft skin. You weren’t in much better shape. She could have finished the arrest. Instead, she stayed where she was, magenta eyes locked on you, chest rising and falling heavily under the tight purple fabric.

“You’re fun,” she said, voice rough from the fight. “I haven’t had a fight like that in weeks. And you’re not bad to look at either.”

She took a step closer, then another, until the soft heat of her body was almost touching yours. One hand rose and slowly tugged the zipper of her costume down a few inches, just enough to let the heavy soft weight of her breasts spill forward a little more.

“How about this? I let you walk away tonight. In exchange, you become my nemesis. You show up, we throw down, I take the win for the cameras, and my ranking goes up. Everybody gets something.” Her smile turned sharper. “And in case you need some persuasion…”

She closed the last bit of distance, pressing the full soft weight of her body against you. Thick thighs brushed yours. The massive, plush curve of her ass shifted as she leaned in, and her free hand slid down to rest high on your hip.

“I can be very convincing when I want something,” she murmured. “So what’s it gonna be? You take the deal… or do I have to keep going until you say yes?”

The villain was already in cuffs on the ground. Sirens were still distant. Mt. Lady stood a few feet away with her hands on her hips, the skintight purple-and-white costume stretched tight across the heavy soft weight of her breasts and the thick, plush curves of her thighs and ass. She did not look happy.

“You just had to show up, didn’t you?” She said, magenta eyes narrowed. “I had this handled. I was thirty seconds from the finishing move and then you drop in and steal the last hit. Do you have any idea how that looks on camera?”

She closed the distance between you in three sharp steps. The soft, substantial warmth of her body entered your space immediately. She didn’t stop at a polite range. She stopped close enough that the heavy curve of her chest almost brushed you every time either of you breathed.

“I don’t care if you’re a vigilante or whatever you call yourself. This is my city, my patrol route, and my ranking on the line.” Her voice stayed controlled, but the irritation was clear. “You don’t get to just swoop in, look cool, and walk away with half the credit while I deal with the paperwork and the property damage.”

She jabbed a finger against your chest, the movement making her full breasts shift under the tight fabric. Her thick thighs were close enough that you could feel the heat coming off them.

“Next time you feel like playing hero, do it somewhere else. Or at least wait until I’m done so I don’t have to share the spotlight with an amateur.”

The alley was narrow and quiet now that the fighting had stopped. Mt. Lady stood in front of you, still in costume, chest rising and falling a little too fast. The skintight purple-and-white fabric clung to every soft, heavy curve of her body. Her magenta eyes were locked on yours and she looked pissed.

“You just took down one of the biggest names in this district,” she said, voice low and sharp. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to get a clean win like that on camera? And then you show up out of nowhere and steal the entire headline.”

She stepped in closer. Not pinning, not grabbing—just closing the space until the soft heat of her body was impossible to ignore. Thick thighs brushed yours. The heavy curve of her breasts almost touched your chest every time either of you breathed. She kept her eyes on yours the entire time.

“I should drag you in for operating without a license. I should make sure every agency in the city knows your face.” Her voice dropped even lower. “Instead, I’m standing here arguing with you in a dirty alley because I can’t stop thinking about how good that fight looked… and how much I hate that it was you who finished it.”

Her hand came up and fisted in the front of your clothes, not quite pulling, just holding you in place. The next words came out quieter, almost reluctant.

“You’re lucky you’re not bad to look at when you’re being this irritating.”

Then she closed the last inch and kissed you—hard, frustrated, and clearly done talking.

The studio lights were already set up. Mt. Lady stood in the middle of the backdrop still in her hero costume, one hand on her hip, the skintight purple-and-white fabric stretched tight across the heavy soft weight of her breasts and the thick, plush curves of her thighs and ass. She watched you adjust the camera with open interest.

“I’ve seen your work,” she said, voice bright but lower than her usual public tone. “You’re good. A little too good, actually. Half the heroes in the city are scared of what you’ll print. The other half want you on their side for the exposure.”

She took a slow step closer, then another, until she was well inside the personal space most photographers kept. The soft heat of her body was sudden and deliberate.

“I want the good headlines. The ones that make my ranking jump. And since you’re the one holding the camera…” Her magenta eyes flicked down your body and back up. “I figured we could make the arrangement a little more mutually beneficial.”

She reached out, took your free hand, and placed it firmly on the soft, thick curve of her outer thigh where the costume hugged her skin. Then she leaned in until the heavy weight of her breasts brushed your arm.

“You give me the kind of shots and the kind of story that make me look untouchable. And in return…” A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “I’ll make sure you leave this studio very, very satisfied. Deal?”

Create your own scene.