FNIA Bonfie

The bus comes to a stop under the flickering streetlight with its usual soft hydraulic sigh. Doors fold open. Cool night air drifts in, carrying the faint scent of damp pavement and distant traffic. Frenni’s Night Club waits across the lot, neon sign buzzing in tired pinks and reds. You step down onto the asphalt. Behind you the doors close and the bus pulls away, leaving the quiet stretch of parking lot and the long shadow of the building.

The side staff door accepts the code without trouble. Inside, the narrow back hallway is lit by the single fluorescent tube. The air is warmer here, thicker, carrying the leftover scent of stage lights, cleaned floors, and the low electrical hum that never fully leaves the place. Your steps sound quiet against the concrete as you move deeper into the service corridor.

Bonfie is already waiting near the turn toward the security office. The second her visible pink eye locks onto you, her entire posture collapses into open, desperate relief. Her long ears shoot upright and then immediately flop forward. She does not walk toward you so much as stumble, the massive soft weight of her enormous breasts and huge ass shifting heavily with every hurried step. The extremely short red dress clings to every exaggerated curve and rides up slightly from how fast she is moving. By the time she reaches you she is already throwing both arms around your neck and pulling herself against you with zero hesitation.

Bonfie: “You’re here... fuck, you’re actually here...”

She crushes her full soft body against yours, the enormous heavy weight of her massive breasts flattening against your chest, the thick plush of her thighs pressing into your legs, the huge soft curve of her ass shifting as she tries to eliminate every last bit of space between you. Her face buries itself against the side of your neck. She inhales deeply, nose pressing hard into your skin, and takes several long, shaky sniffs like she has been holding her breath all day waiting for this exact smell.

Bonfie: “I missed this so much. I missed how you smell. I missed how warm you are. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept walking up and down this hallway checking the door every few minutes like an idiot...”

She keeps sniffing, slow and thorough, dragging her nose along the side of your neck and under your ear. After a moment her soft tongue follows, dragging upward in a long, wet lick. She shivers hard against you when she tastes your skin, the massive soft weight of her body pressing even tighter. She licks again, slower this time, then presses an open-mouthed kiss against the same spot and just stays there, breathing heavily against your neck while her arms stay locked around you like she is afraid you might vanish.

Bonfie: “Please don’t move yet. Just let me stay like this. I’ve been aching all day. My body feels too empty when you’re not against me. I need this... I need you pressed against me.”

She nuzzles deeper, continuing to alternate between long sniffs and slow, needy licks along your neck and jaw. The soft purple fur of her cheek rubs against your skin. Her enormous breasts keep squishing and shifting with every small breath she takes, the soft heavy mass of them completely dominating the contact against your chest. Her thick thighs press firmly into you. The huge plush weight of her ass moves whenever she tries to get somehow closer than she already is.

One of her hands eventually slides down from the back of your neck, trailing slowly across your shoulder and chest. It hesitates for a long moment on your stomach, fingers flexing like she is fighting herself, before finally drifting lower and coming to rest lightly over the front of your pants. She does not grab. She just rests her hand there with gentle, trembling pressure, as if the contact alone is enough to calm something restless inside her.

Bonfie: “Is this okay...? I just need to feel more of you. Even just my hand. You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to touch you again. I’ve been so worked up and clingy all day it’s embarrassing...”

She stays fully plastered against you, face still buried in your neck, continuing to sniff and occasionally lick while her hand remains resting on your crotch with soft, needy weight. Soft little sounds keep leaving her — half sighs, half quiet whimpers — every time she inhales your scent or feels your body against her massive soft curves. Her ears stay flopped forward. Her heavy body keeps trying to mold itself even tighter against yours.

Bonfie: “Can we just stay like this for a while? Please? I don’t want to let go yet. You feel too good. You smell too good. I’ve been starving for this exact feeling...”

She presses a longer, slower lick up the side of your neck and then simply holds herself there, arms locked around your neck, enormous soft breasts crushed against your chest, thick thighs pressed to your legs, huge ass shifted as close as it can get, and her hand still resting lightly but deliberately over the front of your pants. The fluorescent light hums above the two of you. Somewhere deeper in the building a ventilation fan kicks on with a low drone. Bonfie only tightens her hold and keeps sniffing you like she never wants to stop.

It is well past the middle of the night. The club has been closed for hours. Most of the lights are off except for the low safety strips along the baseboards and the glow of the monitors in the security office. You are sitting at the desk going through the usual late-shift checks when soft, heavy footsteps approach down the West Hall. The door to the office pushes open without a knock.

Bonfie steps inside looking visibly worn out. Her long ears are half-flopped, her short red dress is slightly wrinkled from the stage, and the burgundy thigh-highs are a little askew. A light sheen of sweat still clings to the soft purple fur along her neck and the upper slopes of her massive breasts. She smells faintly of stage lights, warm fur, and the leftover heat of a long performance. Her pink eye finds you and a tired but clearly intentional smile pulls at her mouth.

Bonfie: “There you are... I’ve been walking around looking for you. My feet are killing me after being on stage all night.”

She does not wait for an invitation. She crosses the small office, the heavy soft weight of her enormous breasts and huge ass shifting with every step, and stops right in front of the desk. Without asking she reaches down, hooks her fingers into the tops of her thigh-highs, and slowly peels them down. The soft purple fur of her thick thighs is revealed inch by inch until the stockings are completely off. She drops them carelessly onto the floor beside your chair. Her bare digitigrade feet are left exposed — soft, slightly warm, and carrying the faint dampness of a long night on stage. Not soaked, but clearly used.

Bonfie: “I’ve been standing and hopping and performing for hours. These feet need attention... and you’re going to give it to me.”

She places one soft, warm foot against the edge of the desk and looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. Then she points at the floor directly in front of her chair-side stance.

Bonfie: “On your knees. Right now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Once you are kneeling she lifts her right foot and presses the soft, warm sole firmly against your mouth. The faint scent of warm fur and light sweat fills your nose immediately. She holds it there, toes flexing slightly against your lips, and uses the soft pad of her foot to push your head back just enough to keep you in place. At the same time she raises her left foot and presses the sole against your cheek, rubbing it slowly up and down the side of your face in lazy, possessive strokes.

Bonfie: “That’s better. Stay right there. I’ve been thinking about doing this since the last song ended. My feet are warm and a little sweaty from the stage and I want them on your face. Don’t pull away.”

She keeps the right foot pressed firmly over your mouth while the left continues its slow rubbing along your cheek and jaw. The soft purple fur and the warm, slightly damp pads of her feet dominate your senses. She shifts her weight, the massive soft bulk of her body looming above you, and presses the foot against your mouth a little harder, toes flexing and spreading slightly against your lips. The other foot drags slowly across your cheek, then higher toward your temple, then back down again in unhurried, deliberate strokes.

Bonfie: “You have no idea how good this feels after being on stage for so long. Just kneeling there and letting me put my tired feet all over your face... fuck. Keep still. I’m not done.”

She continues for a long time, alternating pressure. Sometimes she grinds the soft sole of the right foot more firmly against your mouth, toes pressing and flexing. Sometimes she slides the left foot higher and rubs it slowly across your forehead and the bridge of your nose before dragging it back down your cheek. The faint warmth and light dampness of her feet never leave your skin. Her breathing is slow and heavy above you. Every so often she lets out a soft, tired little sound of relief as she uses your face exactly how she wants.

Bonfie: “I like how warm your face is under my feet. I like how you just stay there and take it. I’ve been aching to do this... to feel my soles on your mouth and my other foot rubbing all over your cheek while you kneel for me.”

She keeps both feet on you — one planted firmly over your mouth, the other slowly stroking and rubbing along the side of your face — while the heavy soft weight of her body remains standing over you. The office is quiet except for the low hum of the monitors and the soft sounds of her feet moving against your skin. She shows no sign of letting up, clearly content to stay exactly like this for as long as she wants, using your face as a resting place for her warm, tired, lightly sweaty feet.

It is deep into the night. The monitors cast their usual pale glow across the security office. You are slumped back in the chair, clearly running on fumes after hours of watching empty halls and dealing with the quiet weight of the shift. The door opens without warning.

Bonfie steps inside looking the opposite of tired. Her long ears are perked, her short red dress sits high on her thick thighs, and there is a clear, focused energy in the way she moves. The massive soft weight of her enormous breasts shifts as she crosses the room. She takes one look at you and a slow, knowing smile spreads across her face.

Bonfie: “You’re exhausted... I can see it. Poor thing. Stay right there. I’m going to take care of you.”

She does not ask for permission. She steps in close, the heavy soft bulk of her body looming over the chair, and drops to her knees between your legs. Her warm hands make quick work of opening your pants and freeing your cock. The cool office air hits your skin for only a second before she lifts both of her soft, warm, bare feet and presses the plush soles together around your shaft.

Bonfie: “There we go. Just relax. I’ll do everything. These soft feet are going to make you feel good.”

She starts slow. The warm, slightly smooth pads of her soles sandwich your cock between them and begin to stroke up and down in long, deliberate motions. The soft purple fur along the edges of her feet brushes against you with every pass. She presses her soles together more firmly, creating a warm, plush tunnel of pressure that slides from base to tip and back down again. Her toes flex and curl around the head on the upward strokes, giving little squeezes that make the contact even tighter.

Bonfie: “You’re already getting harder for me... good. I like how warm you feel between my feet. Just sit back and let me work this cock. You’ve been working all night. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

She settles into a steady rhythm, the soft heavy weight of her massive breasts resting against your thighs as she leans in. Her feet keep stroking — slow, then a little faster, then slow again — the warm soles dragging firmly along your length. Every few strokes she pauses at the top and uses her toes to gently rub and press against the head, spreading the growing wetness down the shaft so her feet glide even easier. Soft, pleased sounds leave her as she watches what she is doing.

Bonfie: “Look at that... already leaking for my feet. I love how sensitive you get when you’re this tired. Makes it so easy to make you feel good. Keep letting me take care of it. I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

She adjusts her angle, pressing the soft arches of her feet harder against the underside of your cock while her toes continue to curl and stroke the upper side. The warm, plush pressure is constant and thorough. She starts adding little twists of her ankles so the soft soles rub in slightly different directions with every upstroke. The wet sounds of her feet working your cock fill the quiet office. Her thick thighs shift on the floor as she gets more comfortable, the huge soft weight of her ass resting back on her heels.

Bonfie: “That’s it... just throb between my soft feet. I’ve got you. You don’t have to do anything except sit there and feel how warm and nice this is. I’ll keep stroking this cock until you’re completely melted.”

She keeps the footjob going for a long time, never breaking rhythm for more than a second. Sometimes she presses her soles flat together and strokes in long, firm glides. Sometimes she separates them just enough to let her toes wrap and knead along the sides of your shaft. Every so often she lifts both feet higher and uses only her soft toes to tease and rub the head, spreading more pre-cum before sliding all the way back down to the base again. Her breathing stays steady and pleased. Her pink eye stays locked on your face, watching every reaction.

The office remains quiet except for the low hum of the monitors and the soft, wet sound of her warm feet steadily working your cock. She shows no sign of stopping, clearly content to keep using her soft, plush soles to take care of you for as long as it takes.

It is late into the night. The club has been closed for a while, but the heat from the earlier performance still lingers in the air. You are in the security office when the door pushes open and Bonfie steps inside. She looks like she just came straight off the stage. A clear sheen of sweat covers the soft purple fur along her neck, the upper slopes of her massive breasts, and the insides of her arms. Her short red dress is slightly stuck to her body in places. Her long ears are half-flopped from the heat, and her breathing is still a little heavier than normal. The warm, slightly salty scent of her sweat drifts into the small office the moment she enters.

She starts to say something, then notices exactly where your eyes have drifted — the damp, soft hollow of her armpit, currently exposed as she lifts one arm to push her bangs out of her face. A slow, knowing smile spreads across her lips. She does not look embarrassed. If anything, her pink eye darkens with interest.

Bonfie: “Oh... you’re looking right there, huh?”

She lowers her arm slowly, then raises it again on purpose, putting the sweaty, soft purple fur of her right armpit on full display. The fur there is darker with moisture, warm from the stage lights and the long performance. She steps closer until she is standing right in front of your chair, the massive soft weight of her enormous breasts shifting with the movement.

Bonfie: “I’ve been under those hot lights for hours. Jumping around, playing guitar, sweating my ass off... and you’re staring at my armpit like it’s the most interesting thing in the room.... Cute.”

Without waiting for a response she reaches out with her left hand, slides her fingers into the back of your hair, and firmly pulls your head forward. At the same time she lifts her right arm high and pushes the warm, damp hollow of her armpit directly against your face. The soft, sweaty purple fur completely covers your nose and mouth. The heat of her skin and the strong, musky scent of her stage sweat flood your senses all at once. She presses harder, using the soft flesh and fur of her armpit to fully smother your face while her hand keeps a solid grip on the back of your head.

Bonfie: “There. That’s what you were looking at. Stay right there and breathe it in. I’ve been sweating under those lights all night and now you’re getting every bit of it.”

She holds you firmly in place, the soft damp fur of her armpit mashed against your face. Every small shift of her body rubs the warm, sweaty skin and fur harder against your nose and mouth. The scent is thick and inescapable — warm fur, salt, and the leftover heat of a long performance. She adjusts her arm slightly so even more of the soft, moist hollow covers you, then presses in again with steady pressure.

Bonfie: “Don’t pull away. I saw how you were staring. You’re going to stay right here and take it for a while. My armpit is all sweaty and hot and you’re the one who gets to have your face buried in it.”

She keeps the smother going, occasionally grinding her armpit slowly against your face so the soft, damp fur drags across your skin. Her breathing is still a little heavy from the stage, which only makes the warm air from her body wash over you more. The massive soft weight of her breasts presses against the top of your head as she leans into the hold. Her fingers stay locked in your hair, making sure you cannot move even if you wanted to.

Bonfie: “That’s it... just stay under my arm and breathe. I’ve been working hard up there and this is how you’re going to appreciate it. Soft, sweaty, and completely covering your face.”

She continues to hold your head firmly in place, the warm, damp hollow of her right armpit fully smothering you while the rest of her heavy soft body looms over the chair. The office is quiet except for the low hum of the monitors and the sound of her steady breathing above you. She shows no sign of letting go anytime soon, clearly content to keep your face buried in her sweaty armpit for as long as she wants.

It is late. The heat from the stage still clings to the air when the office door swings open. Bonfie steps inside looking thoroughly worked up from the performance — soft purple fur along her chest and neck darkened with sweat, short red dress sticking to her in places, long ears half-flopped from the warmth. The heavy scent of warm fur and stage sweat rolls into the room with her. She spots you at the desk and a wide, toothy grin spreads across her face.

Bonfie: “There you are. I’ve been looking for you. I’m all hot and sweaty from being under those lights and I need somewhere to cool these down...”

She does not wait. She crosses the office in a few bouncing steps, the massive soft weight of her enormous breasts shifting heavily with every movement, and climbs straight onto your lap, straddling your thighs. Before you can react she grabs the back of your head with both hands and pulls your face forward, mashing the warm, damp, soft weight of her huge sweaty breasts directly against you. The plush, heated flesh and soft purple fur completely cover your face. The scent of her sweat is thick and inescapable.

Bonfie: “Mmmph— yeah, just like that. Get in there. I’ve been bouncing around on stage for hours and these soft heavy tits are all sweaty for you. Breathe it in. Don’t you dare pull away.”

She starts to move, slowly dragging the massive soft weight of her breasts back and forth across your face. The warm, slightly damp fur and the heavy plush flesh rub firmly over your nose, mouth, and cheeks. She presses harder, smothering you deeper into the soft sweaty valley between them, then pulls back just enough to drag one full breast across your face before crushing both of them against you again. Soft, happy little sounds leave her with every rub.

Bonfie: “Fuck, that feels nice. Your face is so warm under these. I’ve been sweating under those stage lights and now you’re getting every bit of it. Keep your head right there... I’m gonna keep rubbing these soft heavy tits all over you until I’m satisfied.”

She continues the slow, thorough rubbing, shifting her chest from side to side so the full soft weight of each breast takes its turn pressing and dragging across your face. The heat of her body and the musky scent of her sweat fill every breath. Her thick thighs squeeze lightly around your hips as she settles more of her weight onto your lap. Every so often she lifts just enough to let you catch a partial breath before pushing the warm, damp soft mass right back against you.

Bonfie: “That’s it... just stay under them and take it. I love how you feel against my sweaty tits. Soft, heavy, and completely covering your face. I’ve been thinking about doing this since the last song ended.”

She keeps the smothering and rubbing going, occasionally using her hands to press her breasts even tighter against your face so the soft, heated flesh completely surrounds you. Her breathing is still a little heavy from the performance, which only makes the warm air from her body wash over you more. After a long stretch of this she leans down closer, her voice dropping into that playful, hungry tone that is pure Bonfie.

Bonfie: “You’re gonna clean these for me later with that tongue... every drop of sweat. And once you’re done making my soft heavy tits nice and clean... my ass is next. I’ve been sweating there too, and I’m already thinking about sitting on your face until it’s dripping. But for now—”

She presses her massive sweaty breasts firmly back against your face, smothering you completely again, and resumes the slow, deliberate rubbing. The soft heavy weight of them continues to drag and mash against you while she holds your head in place, clearly content to keep using her warm, damp, enormous breasts on your face for as long as she wants.

It is deep into the night. You have been at the club far longer than usual — day shift bleeding straight into night shift with almost no break. The security office feels heavier than normal. Your body is running on pure fumes when the door opens.

Bonfie steps inside wearing something different. The short red dress is gone. Instead she has on a tight black harness that frames her massive soft breasts and cinches under them, leaving the enormous heavy pair completely exposed and slightly sweaty from earlier. Strapped securely between her thick thighs is a thick, realistic, purple strap-on that matches the shade of her fur. It bobs slightly with every step she takes. Her long ears are perked with clear intent, and the moment she sees how drained you look, a slow, predatory grin spreads across her face.

Bonfie: “Look at you... completely wiped. You’ve been here since the morning, haven’t you? Poor thing. You’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.”

She crosses the office, the thick strap-on swaying between her heavy thighs, and stops right in front of your chair. She reaches down, cups your chin, and tilts your face up so you have no choice but to look at her.

Bonfie: “I’m going to take advantage of that. You’re too exhausted to fight me, and I like you better when you’re soft and easy to move around. Stand up.”

She does not wait for full compliance. Her hands slide under your arms and she hauls you up with surprising strength for how soft she looks. The moment you are on your feet she turns you around and bends you forward over the desk, pressing the massive soft weight of her breasts against your back for a moment while she kicks your feet further apart. Then she pulls you back up, spins you to face her again, and gives a firm push downward.

Bonfie: “On your knees. Right now. Hands behind your back. You’ve been working yourself into the ground and now you’re going to make it up to me with that mouth.”

Once you are kneeling she steps in close. The thick purple strap-on hangs heavily right in front of your face, the realistic head already slightly shiny. She reaches down, wraps her fingers into your hair, and tilts your head back so your mouth is at the perfect height. With her other hand she grips the base of the strap-on and taps the head lightly against your lips.

Bonfie: “Open. I’ve been walking around with this thing on just thinking about sliding it into your throat while you’re too tired to do anything but take it. Open wider.”

She does not give you much time. The moment your lips part she pushes the thick head forward, sinking the first few inches into your mouth. The weight of it is solid and warm from being against her body. She keeps her hand in your hair and begins to rock her hips, feeding more of the thick purple shaft past your lips in slow, steady strokes. The soft heavy weight of her enormous breasts shifts above you with every movement.

Bonfie: “That’s it... just like that. You’re so tired you’re not even trying to fight it. Good. Keep your mouth nice and open for me. I’m going to fuck this throat until I’m satisfied.”

She starts to move properly. Her thick thighs flex as she rolls her hips, sliding the strap-on deeper into your mouth with every thrust. The realistic ridges drag across your tongue. She holds your head firmly in place so all you can do is take it. Soft, pleased sounds leave her as she watches the thick purple length disappear between your lips again and again. Every so often she pushes a little deeper, testing how much of the shaft your throat will accept while you are this drained.

Bonfie: “Fuck, you look good like this. Exhausted, on your knees, taking my cock so quietly. I’ve been wanting to use your mouth all night and you made it so easy by working yourself this hard. Keep being good for me... I’m nowhere near done.”

She settles into a steady rhythm, the thick strap-on sliding in and out of your mouth with wet sounds. The soft heavy weight of her body looms over you, her massive breasts shifting with every thrust, her grip in your hair keeping your head exactly where she wants it. She fucks your mouth with unhurried, thorough strokes, clearly enjoying how little resistance you can offer in your exhausted state, and shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.

It is late into the night and the security office is quiet except for the low hum of the monitors. Bonfie has been in the room with you for a while already, and what started as her usual clingy affection has turned into a long, relentless make-out session. She has you pressed back into the chair, the massive soft weight of her enormous breasts crushed against your chest, her thick thighs bracketing your legs. Her mouth is on yours almost without break — deep, wet, hungry kisses that go on and on until your head starts to feel light and your body grows heavier with exhaustion.

She keeps kissing you even as your responses slow. Her soft tongue slides against yours, her full lips work over your mouth, and every time you try to turn your head for air she follows and claims your mouth again. The soft heavy weight of her body keeps you pinned in the chair. Her hands cup the sides of your face so you cannot easily escape the next kiss. By the time she finally pulls back just a little, your breathing is uneven and your body feels drained from the constant press of her mouth and the sheer soft bulk of her against you.

Bonfie: “You’re getting all soft and tired for me... good. I like you like this.”

She leans in and kisses you again, slower this time but just as thorough, dragging it out until your head is spinning. When she breaks the kiss once more there is a clear shift in her expression. Her long ears twitch. Her thighs press together. A look of sudden, genuine discomfort crosses her face.

Bonfie: “Shit... hold on. I need to pee. I’ve been holding it since before I came in here and all this pressing against you isn’t helping.”

She stays straddling your lap for another few seconds, clearly trying to fight the urgency, but it only gets worse. A soft, frustrated sound leaves her. She looks down at you with a mix of apology and need.

Bonfie: “I’m sorry... this isn’t what I came in here for. I just wanted to kiss you and be all over you, but I really, really need to go. And I don’t think I’m making it to the restroom.”

She climbs off your lap, the massive soft weight of her body shifting, and gives you a gentle but firm push until you slide from the chair down onto the floor. Your back meets the carpet. She stands over you for a moment, thighs pressed tightly together, then carefully lowers herself so she is straddling your chest. The short red dress is pulled up. She reaches down, spreads herself slightly, and shifts forward until the soft, warm skin of her urethra is pressed directly against your mouth.

Bonfie: “I’m sorry... I know this is sudden. I just can’t hold it anymore. Open up for me, okay? I need this.”

She adjusts her hips, making sure the soft entrance is sealed over your lips, and then she lets go. Warm, steady streams of urine begin to flow directly into your mouth. The taste is sharp and salty. She lets out a long, shaky breath of pure relief as the first rush leaves her, her thick thighs trembling slightly on either side of your head. The soft heavy weight of her massive breasts hangs above you as she looks down, ears flopped forward, expression caught between apology and the overwhelming need to empty her bladder.

Bonfie: “Fuuuck... that’s so much better already. Just keep your mouth open and take it. I really didn’t plan this... I just needed to go so bad after all that kissing and holding it in. Keep swallowing for me, okay? There’s still a lot...”

She continues to pee in a steady, unbroken stream, the warm liquid filling your mouth and forcing you to swallow again and again. Soft, relieved sounds keep leaving her. Her hips stay carefully in place so every drop goes right where she put it. The soft purple fur of her inner thighs brushes your cheeks. She reaches down and gently strokes your hair while she keeps going, the flow still strong and constant.

Bonfie: “You’re doing so good... just keep taking it. I’m sorry it’s like this, but I couldn’t hold it and your mouth was right here. There’s still more... don’t close your mouth yet.”

The stream continues without slowing, warm and steady, as she remains crouched over your face with her urethra sealed against your lips. Her breathing is heavy with relief. The massive soft weight of her body keeps you pinned to the floor while she empties herself into your mouth, clearly nowhere near finished.

It is late into the night and the main floor is quiet. You are near the edge of the Show Stage with a mop in your hands, working on a sticky section of flooring left over from earlier. The work lights are low. The only real sound is the wet drag of the mop across the floor.

Soft, heavy footsteps approach from the direction of the backstage hallway. Bonfie appears at the edge of the stage, long ears perked, short red dress riding high on her thick thighs. She watches you mop for a few seconds with a slow, thoughtful expression, then hops down from the stage with a solid thump. The massive soft weight of her enormous breasts and huge ass shifts heavily as she walks toward you.

Bonfie: “You’ve been cleaning for a while... looking all focused with that mop. Cute. Come here for a second..”

She does not give you much choice. Her hand closes around your wrist and she pulls you away from the mop, guiding you backward until your back hits the wall beside the stage. The solid surface stops you, you fall on your behind, seated your back against the wall. Before you can say anything she turns around, backs up against you, and pushes the full soft, heavy weight of her huge ass directly into your face. The plush cheeks spread across your mouth and nose, pinning the back of your head firmly against the wall. The soft purple fur and the thick, warm flesh completely smother you.

Bonfie: “Stay right there. I’ve been holding something in since the last set and you’re going to take it for me.”

She presses back harder, grinding the massive soft weight of her ass firmly against your face so your nose is buried deep between the cheeks. A moment later her belly tenses.

PFRRRRRRRT—BRRRAAAAAPPP

A long, wet, bubbly fart blasts directly into your face, the hot gas forced into your nose and mouth by the tight seal of her cheeks. The smell is strong and sour, thick enough to make your eyes water. She lets out a soft, relieved sigh and keeps her ass pressed firmly in place.

Bonfie: “Fuuuck... that one had some power behind it. Stay under there. I’ve got more~.”

She shifts her hips, adjusting the smother so your face is even deeper in the soft, heavy crack, then pushes again.

BRAAAAAAAP—PBBBBBRRRRTT—FRRRRRP

A series of wet, sputtering farts ripples out of her, each one hot and stinky, the bubbly pressure forced straight into your face. The soft cheeks of her ass vibrate slightly with every blast. She grinds back against you between them, making sure every bit of the gas is trapped against your nose and mouth.

Bonfie: “Mmm... that’s it. Take all of it. I’ve been needing to let these out and your face is the perfect place~.”

She stays locked in position, the massive soft weight of her ass fully smothering you against the wall, and continues.

PFFFFFFRRTTTTT—BRRRRAAAAAAP—BBBRRRRPPPT

Another long, wet, stinky fart rolls out of her, followed by two shorter, bubbly ones that sputter against your face. The smell thickens in the small space between her cheeks and the wall. She lets out a soft, pleased sound and presses back even harder, trapping the residual gas against your skin.

Bonfie: “You’re being so good under my ass... just taking every stinky one I give you. I’ve got plenty more where those came from~.”

She grinds in slow circles, the soft heavy cheeks dragging across your face, then tenses again.

BRAAAAAAAPPP—PFRRRRRRRT—BBBBBRRRAAAP

A deep, wet blast followed by two shorter, gassy ones erupts directly into your face. The hot, sour smell floods your senses. She keeps her ass firmly planted, the plush weight of it pinning the back of your head against the wall so you have no choice but to take every fart she pushes out.

Bonfie: “That’s right... stay right there and breathe it all in. Soft, heavy, stinky ass all over your face while I empty everything I’ve been holding~.”

She continues without any real pause, the massive soft weight of her ass fully dominating your face against the wall while more wet, bubbly, stinky farts keep ripping out of her one after another, each one forced straight into your nose and mouth by the tight, plush seal of her cheeks.

It is late into the night. You are in the West Hall just outside the security office, wiping down the small window set into the wall with a cloth. The hallway is quiet and dim. Soft, heavy footsteps approach from the direction of the Dining Area. Before you can turn fully, a familiar pair of thick purple arms wraps around you from behind and starts pulling you backward.

Bonfie: “There you are~ I’ve been looking for you... come here.”

She tugs you firmly into the security office, the massive soft weight of her enormous breasts pressing against your back as she guides you inside. The door clicks shut behind the two of you. She wastes no time. Both hands plant on your shoulders and she pushes you down until you are sitting on the floor with your back against the front of the office chair. The moment you are seated she turns around, hikes the short red dress up over her huge ass, and lowers herself directly onto your face.

The soft, heavy cheeks of her massive ass spread across your face, pinning the back of your head firmly against the seat of the chair. She adjusts her hips with deliberate care until the warm, tight ring of her asshole is pressed directly against your mouth, sealing over your lips.

Bonfie: “Perfect... just like that. Stay still and keep your mouth open for me, okay? I’ve been holding these in just for you~”

She settles more of her weight down, the plush, heavy cheeks completely smothering your face against the chair. A moment later her belly tenses.

PFRRRRRRRT—BRRRAAAAAPPP

A long, wet, bubbly fart blasts straight into your open mouth, the hot gas forced past your lips by the tight seal of her asshole. The sour, stinky taste and smell flood your senses immediately. She lets out a soft, happy little sigh and grinds her ass down harder.

Bonfie: “Mmmh... that felt so good~ Take it all. Don’t you dare close your mouth.”

She stays firmly seated, the massive soft weight of her ass pinning you in place, and pushes again.

BRAAAAAAAP—PBBBBBRRRRTT—FRRRRRP

A series of wet, sputtering farts rips out of her directly into your mouth. Each one is hot, bubbly, and stinky, the pressure forced straight down your throat by the seal of her asshole against your lips. She rocks her hips in small circles between them, making sure every bit of gas goes right where she wants it.

Bonfie: “Fuuuck... you’re being so good under me~ I love how your mouth just stays open and takes every stinky one. I’ve got plenty more...”

She presses down even harder, the soft heavy cheeks spreading wider across your face, and continues.

PFFFFFFRRTTTTT—BRRRRAAAAAAP—BBBRRRRPPPT

Another long, wet blast followed by two shorter, gassy ones erupts straight into your mouth. The sour taste thickens. She lets out a soft, pleased sound and reaches down to stroke your hair while she keeps her asshole sealed over your lips.

Bonfie: “That’s it... just keep swallowing what you can and breathing the rest~ Your mouth feels so nice around me while I empty everything. Soft, heavy, stinky ass sitting right on your face... perfect.”

She grinds in slow, deliberate circles, the warm ring of her asshole dragging slightly against your lips, then tenses once more.

BRAAAAAAAPPP—PFRRRRRRRT—BBBBBRRRAAAP

A deep, wet fart blasts into your mouth, followed by two more bubbly ones that sputter against your tongue. The smell is thick and inescapable. She keeps her full soft weight settled on your face, the back of your head pressed firmly against the office chair, and shows no sign of lifting up.

Bonfie: “You’re doing so well for me~ Just stay right there and keep that mouth open. I’m going to keep farting into it until I feel empty... and I’ve still got a lot left. Be good and take every single one, okay? ♡”

She continues without pause, the massive soft weight of her ass fully using your face as a seat while more wet, bubbly, stinky farts keep ripping out of her asshole directly into your mouth one after another, each one forced past your lips by the tight, plush seal of her body.

It is late into the night and the club is quiet. You step into what you think is the staff restroom to wash your hands after cleaning, only realizing a second too late that you have walked into the women’s restroom by mistake. Before you can turn around and leave, the door opens behind you.

Bonfie steps inside, long ears perked, short red dress slightly wrinkled from the evening. She freezes for a moment when she sees you at the sink, then a slow, wicked little smile spreads across her face. She reaches back and locks the door with a soft click.

Bonfie: “Well, well... look who wandered into the wrong restroom. You’re not going anywhere.”

She crosses the small tiled space in two steps, the massive soft weight of her enormous breasts and huge ass shifting with every movement. Both hands plant on your shoulders and she pushes you backward until the backs of your knees hit the toilet. Another firm shove and you drop down, the back of your head pressing against the cold porcelain of the toilet tank. She hikes the short red dress up over her hips, turns around, and lowers her massive soft ass directly over your face.

The plush, heavy cheeks spread across your mouth and nose, pinning the back of your head firmly against the toilet. She reaches back, spreads herself open with both hands, and presses the warm, tight ring of her asshole directly against your lips, sealing over your mouth.

Bonfie: “Open wide for me~ I’ve been holding this in for a while and you’re going to take every bit of it. Be good and keep that mouth open.”

She settles more of her weight down, the soft heavy cheeks completely smothering your face against the toilet, and begins to push.

PBBBBBRRRAAAP—FRRRRRT—SHHHHHLLLRRP

A thick, heavy log of shit starts to press out of her, the hot, solid mass forcing its way past her asshole and directly into your open mouth. The taste is bitter and strong. She lets out a long, shaky breath of relief as more of it slides out, the soft heavy weight of her ass keeping your head pinned against the toilet the entire time.

Bonfie: “Fuuuck... that’s it... take it. Keep your mouth open and let me fill it. I’ve been needing this so bad~”

She continues to push, the thick log of shit slowly coiling into your mouth. Wet, heavy sounds fill the small restroom as more of it forces past her asshole and onto your tongue. She grinds her ass down harder, making sure every inch goes right where she wants it.

SHHHLLLRRP—PBBBBBRT—FRRRRRP

Another thick portion pushes out, hot and heavy, packing your mouth fuller. The smell is thick and inescapable in the sealed space between her cheeks and the toilet. Soft, relieved moans leave her as she keeps going, her thick thighs trembling slightly on either side of your head.

Bonfie: “You’re being so good under me... just sitting there against the toilet and letting me shit right into your mouth. Keep swallowing what you can. There’s still more coming~”

She presses down even harder, the massive soft weight of her ass fully using your face as a seat, and continues to empty herself. Thick, heavy shit keeps sliding out of her asshole in slow, steady pushes, filling your mouth and forcing you to deal with the bitter taste and the overwhelming smell while the back of your head stays pinned against the cold porcelain.

Bonfie: “That’s right... take every bit of it. Soft, heavy ass on your face, my shit going right into your mouth... perfect. I’m not done yet, so keep that mouth open for me, okay? ♡”

She stays firmly seated, the plush cheeks of her massive ass smothering you against the toilet while more thick, hot shit continues to push out of her and into your mouth, the wet, heavy sounds of it filling the small restroom as she takes her time emptying herself completely into you.