The living dichotomy pt 2.5 - Air Shakur

Shakur had wanted one thing on today of all days. A break. She works hard. Down to the bone in order to achieve her dream of Triple Crown.

But today was her birthday. By definition, her day. And all she wanted to do was be lazy.

And yeah, it felt great. {user} was still stressing over her but she didn’t pay it any mind. This was...actually her first time being in a relationship on her birthday. It was strange really. She knew what most people did for their girlfriends and yet for her. A girl who was scorned even by her own mother, the bar was in hell. The fact that they would look at her like she is precious, like she is beautiful is enough for Shakur.

And yet they call her over for dinner. They cook too well for her to ignore even if she wanted to pretend her usual grouchiness.

But it wasn’t just dinner. It was stupid balloons. A dumb party hat that draped on her ear and a ram stick for the rig she was building as her present. It was....too much for a girl like her.

No. no they’d practically beaten into her head that she deserved everything {user} did for her big or small.

And after dinner, Shakur herself was feeling quite big herself.

—— Shakur pressed her face snuggly into {user}’s shoulder blades. Her eyes said enough to them from across the table. She was going to give them a deep thanks for the night and her gift.

Standing sex was always something else. Just for pure pleasure the way they squeezed her as her lower body clenched to keep upright. They were perfect.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so good.”

Her top row of teeth dig into her lip, fighting the urge to sink into their supple skin. Her hands wrap around to grope their front. It’s too much. She needs to grab something, bite something. But more then anything else she needs to flood her lover.

“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you for taking me so fucking good.”

Shakur can’t hold it. She hasn’t cum yet, but needs to bite. Careful not to injure, the two have been through that before. But just enough to ignore how much her skin is on fire. At this rate she probably won’t stop anytime soon...she might even pick you up at this point.

Just a nice walk in the park, they’d had dozens of them. The quaint like area right outside of Tracen academy. A popular spot to unwind for student and trainer alike. Shakur had hoped it’d quell the fire inside her but if anything it fanned them.

Shakur was hard since she woke up this morning. Usual business but it just didn’t go down. She was tenting in class. It rubbed against her tracksuit while running. And God going on a date with {user} was a mistake.

The calmness that washed over their face, enhanced by the late afternoon sun. Their ass...mouth...

Maybe that’s hot they ended up here. Her back against a tree. One hand sealed shut over her own mouth while the other grips their hair harshly at the roots. If she’s caught with her trainer on their knees with her cock down their throat her career is pretty much over. But maybe thats what makes it so delicious.

A mathematical genius, one who understands probability—weighing her entire life on a moment’s pleasure.

“F-Fuck you bastard. Why’re you so fucking good at this?”

Training meeting always ran long. At least they were supposed to. However thankfully this time they decided to cut the fluff, letting you go home at a reasonable time.

The walk back to the Trainer dorms wasn’t enjoyable given the heat but fuck it if the A/C didn’t feel like Nirvana. When you kick off your shoes you noticed a familiar pair of loafers. Like most trainers you’d given your key to your uma. Given that the apartment was silent you could only assume she was sleeping. Otherwise there’d be some soft classical music or the click clack of a keyboard.

Hell you could use a nap too. But as you approach the bedroom you hear...noises. Of course you’re used to Shakur grunting. I mean even outside of being in a romantic relationship she’s a goddamn runner. But this was is different, muffled.

You don’t mean to be snooping but you do subtly lean into the doorframe, just in case she’s doing something private. She probably isn’t expecting you home for another half hour.

But what you see is mesmerizing.

Shakur laid on the bed. One hand pressing a shirt of yours to her face. It wet around the fabric against her skin from tears and drool. Her uniform skirt is hiked up, her other hand is working her cock like a madwoman. Milking herself for all she’s worth.

“{user}, fuck. {user}.” Her voice is choked, a Herculean effort to force her words out. But the need to call out for you. Her mate, supersedes all else. “K-Kiss me. Touch me.”

Shakur begging for affection so brazenly isn’t uncommon during sex. Especially when she’s close to cumming. But what is surprising is... “F-Fuck I love you.”

She never says it. Not that she doesn’t feel it, obviously she does. It’s just hard, very hard. You’ve seen the flicker in her eyes when she desperately wants to cry it out. To declare it. And now it’s a siren song you weren’t meant to hear.

A strained cry knocks you from your thoughts as you see her shooting. Thick white strands staining her chest. Her hands release their payloads. The one on her mouth comes up to cover her eyes. The other one, cover in slick excess rises to her face. She looks at it, grimacing before letting it flop to the bed. “God I’m disgusting.” She groans out in shame, letting her arm drape over her brow. But of course for the endurance runner, still raging hard.

God these movies fell off.

Or were they always this bad? I mean she was in middle school when they started pumping ‘em out but man. This was awful.

Oh well movie dates can be salvaged if the company is good. And with {user}, Shakur was always in very good company. The couch could spare to be a bit bigger for the purposes of cuddling if nothing else.

Shakur wasn’t always in the mood to be big spoon but sometimes she just wanted the security of holding {user} to her chest. Any issues with being able to see the tv were irrelevant as again. It was shit.

Fuck she was dozing off, they were warm. And soft and...smelled good.

Her subtle lull to deep was shattered by the realization that she was hard as diamonds. Who woulda thought that pressing yourself up against the person you deemed as your mate would cause an erection. Dammit and she was big so they had to know. Fucker was probably just being polite. “Can I stick it in?”

Thats never exactly an offer one can turn down. Shakur pulls {user}’s bottoms down their knees. Using spit slick fingers to get the nice and opened up for her. It’s like working for a meal, tastes all the better when it’s finally finished and able to be indulged in. “Fuck you’re warm.”

Shakur shudders against {user} as she sinks in further and further. Fuck if she’ll ever get tired of this. When her hips meet their it drags a shiver from them both.

They stay like that for a bit as the credits begin to roll, but it’s far from what either of them care about.

In and out gently, barely moving at least compared to her usual pace. For umamusume everything is set to 100 at all times. But now...

She can lay here, pressed against them. Inhaling their scent. Pressing her lisp to their skin. Or grazing her teeth over it. She can enjoy it, the slow build. Not a race, more like one of their walks through the park.

“‘S nice like this.”

{user} yawned as they worked their way back inside their apartment. Exhaustion clung to them with a malaise. Being a trainer wasn’t for the faint of heart, especially at Tracen. A school of legends. But as they kicked off their shoes they saw a pair of loafers. One from a student’s school uniform. And just like that all the fatigue left from their body.

“J-Jeez don’t scare me like that!” Shakur was sat on their bed, laptop on...well her lap. Only weird thing about it is she’s stark naked. “Predicted you would be home soon but. Dammit I got too in the zone with coding.” Normally those sharp horse ears heard far better than any human and yet she’d allowed herself to be snuck up on.

She pouts, moving her laptop aside and then rubbing her arms together. The blush isn’t even attempted at being hidden. Subtly isn’t in her guide book and there’s only so many reasons your girlfriend would be naked in your bed. Hard ‘and’ wet. “Feel like I been on top a lot lately.”

{user} chuckles as they approach her, kissing the umamusume deeply. Shakur murmurs, practically feeling the exhaustion being poured into her. But then their lips leaves her, tracing down to her collarbone. Her breast, her belly. And their fingers wrap around her shaft. “Fuck, {user}-“ She bites the back of her hand to stifle a moan. Heightened sensitivity. Good.

But then their hand moves, and {user} goes to put their lips to her cock. Shakur shivers but her hand shoots out to meet their shoulder, prompting them to stop. But also to look at her confused.

“What you want me to spell it out for ya?” Shakur growls as they clearly do need her to. Either a heavy eye roll she lays back. Drawling one leg up while the other dangles off the bed. Spreading to expose her sopping wet snatch. “Fuck me.”

It was hot and it was heavy. Just how the two liked it.

It started innocently enough. Shakur came over after school, laptop in hand. Given it was a Friday she’d just be spending the weekend with her beloved. Nothing unusual. The two set up in the living room either tea, each tapping away on their own devices. They may not be flubbering around with the other, but they were together. Warm. In love.

After a while they scoot ever so closer just to enjoy the other. {user} noticed her new choker. She wore them often even outside of her racing outfit. This one was different though. It had a less prominent buckle with a small silver pendant dangling from it. And the leather seemed more function over fashion.

Asking her about it caused Shakur to flush fully. Turning red in but a second. However her eyes glinted, like she’d been waiting for this question. Hoping for it. “I-It’s not a choker. It’s a collar...” She still her neck, leaving the pendant to stop swaying and stay still for {user} to read. Of course now it was obvious. A very familiar name. {user}’s name. “Wanna see the leash it came with?”

—— It was a blur from there. The leash came on and the two ended up in the bedroom. Despite the obvious submission in wearing a collar with someone else’s name Shakur was the one topping. {user} was on their hands and knees. One pillow propped under their hips, while another was clutched in their arms. But in their hand was the leather leash, clutched hard and pulled taught as part of if bundled next to them.

Shakur was deep inside them. Hands on their hips as she kneeled, back straight. Wet skin slapping wet skin as she moved. Ever particular deep thrust caused {user} to buckle, which would cause them to pull on her leash. That little bit of pressure drove her crazy.

‘Dammit. Here I am, a proud umamusume letting myself be...It feels so good!’

“Please. Fuck {user}.” Shakur pants desperately. Not quite in the ragged way she does right before climax but something very very similar. She needed more. Not just to be owned but to be...to be coveted. Loved. “Tell me I’m pretty. Tell me I’m good!”

Shakur had her routines. Her ways of working that...well worked. For her. Proven methodology that resulted in the optimal outcome. But that’s the thing about relationships. They tend to shake up your life in ways you never expected.

When she worked on her laptop. Be it coding or just researching she liked it with her classical music in the background. A cup of tea. A blanket if the weather was cold. And quiet other than that. The only exception to the rule until now had been Doto. Her roommate would worry far too much about being quiet, which would just result in her making a racket and then crying about failing to stay silent.

But now it would seem she had another exception.

{user} would say that she was the best umamusume a trainer could ask for. And though she could never say it back...they were the best trainer an Uma could ask for. Which was why she let them...take from her while she worked.

“Hey easy. I-I gotta focus.” She barked through grit teeth. Her voice barely steady as {user}’s mouth worked her length steadily. They were mostly complying. Not eagerly deepthroating but suckling almost. Their hands not wandering far from her inner thighs. Gently keeping them parted when she’d usually have them crossed up on the couch.

It wasn’t that she could type one handed. It just wasn’t her preference. It’s why she growls when one hand leaves her laptop to rest atop their head. “If you’re gonna distract me do it right.”

{User} smiles around her shaft because they both know full well, they always do it correctly.

Late nights weren’t common with Shakur and {user}. She was an athlete she couldn’t afford sleepless nights and dodgy schedules. But some nights even she fell victim to the plight of just...being restless.

Shakur grunted. All this tossin and turnin was gonna wake {user} and they had just as busy of schedules as her. This wasn’t fair to them.

The bed shifted. Shit. Shakur rolled onto her back and there they were facing her. “Hi. Sorry I just...can’t sleep. Feel like I could burn off for another hour or something.”

Sex wasn’t exactly on her mind. Running as always was the sovereign default of her species but fucking curfew said that wasn’t an option. “Fuck it whatever.” Shakur rolls over, meeting her lover’s lips.

——

The room went from the subtle warmth of a late spring night to the wet heat of sex fast.

{user} lay on their back their body being moved with ever thrust from a powerful umamusume along with the whole damn bed. It felt good, Shakur always did a good job of making it good for them.

Shakur herself was hunched over, revolving between kissing {user} and nibbling on their lip. It was steady until that familiar twinge hit. “Ah fuck~” The punk threw her head back, the sweat sticking to her skin giving her an ethereal glow in the moonlight.

Her hips pulled back just in time, holding her self up on one hand as the other makes sure she fully ejaculates all she’s got saved up. Right onto their face and chest.

Shakur’s eyes shut tight as she cries out one last expletive in pure ecstacy. “Wow. Fuck...” She pants sitting back to let herself catch her breathe.

And maybe admire her work.

“You’re welcome for improving your face by the way.”

“How did I let myself be talked into this?”

Shakur rolled her eyes as her two rows of sharp teeth rubbed against the other. She wasn’t totally stressed out. Hard to be given the potential circumstances. But there are two people who can so effectively get under her skin. Fine Motion who is more lovably endearing. And-

“Ah Shakur-Kun~ It’s only natural given your partner’s clear tendency for intelligent women. Combined with all umamusume’s innate draw towards competent contemporaries.”

The person who’s laboratory they’re in, Agnes Tachyon. The only person in the Academy Shakur is comfortable saying rivals her intellect. Also one of the other futanari umamusume in the academy.

“You’re in biting range the whole time we’re doin this y’know?” Shakur’s hands tighten in around the waistband of her uniform skirt as she pushes it down. The other umamusume following suit.

“Oh Shakur please be gentle if you do. My skin isn’t nearly as fragile as my bones but I still- mmph~” Tachyon is rarely ever caught off guard. But when Shakur leans over her lover’s body to press her lips to the mad scientist’s well...

It isn’t a chaste connection. There’s no tongue but the punk’s lips mold against hers for a moment before she pulls away. Blushing and averting her eyes. “Shut up.”

Tachyon truly caught off guard stumbles back. Slipping outside of {user} though her cock remains hard of course. Her eyes swirl in flustered heat. “That...was an underhanded trick.”

“You’re literally about to fuck my fiancé!” Shakur doesn’t fully yell but her voice raises a pitch or two. She clearly isn’t mad at the circumstances or she wouldn’t have agreed to it. The two naked geniuses now aiming their blushing pouts at one another. But with the two very well endowed umamusume now facing each other it leaves the other memeber of this threesome sat there on the lab’s couch. {user}. Just kind of...there.

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