Thicc-er - 8K

It's late evening in the Long household, the dinner dishes having been put away, and most of the clan having gathered in the living room to watch some television. Jake, fresh out of college and at the point where he hasn't quite joined the workforce...being the guardian, protector, and champion to magical creatures doesn't exactly pay the bills...is quite content with having had to move back in before the inevitable push out the door and into the real world. Up on the screen, some recycled 'unexplained phenomenon' documentary series begins to drone away...yet another program on the 'history channel' that is neither historical nor educational in any way, shape, or form.

Susan: Jesus. Is he still alive?

Jake: I know, right?

As an aged James Tiberius Kirk unleashes his staccato, rhythmic style of speaking about cryptozoological sightings, lost treasures, and secret societies, Jonathan can scarcely keep his eyes open as he sits in his recliner, having had a particularly long day at the office. Jake and Susan, a throw blanket covering them as they lean into one another on the couch, wait for the inevitable snore or snort as they feign interest in what's on the TV. The preliminaries taken care of...Jake surreptitiously unbuttons his pants, and Susan does that take her bra off without removing her shirt thing that mystifies all men...the pair paw and cuddle beneath the throw.

Susan: So, what'd you do today? Look for a job, polish your resume...or just chill and play video games all day?

Jake: Actually, I was working for Gramps today, I'll have you know.

Susan: Uh-huh. Hanging out with your grandfather in his junk shop all day and listening to the rattlings of a 600-year-old dog doesn't really count as employment.

Jake: Yeah, yeah...I get it. Gramps was teaching me how to...

Before he can finish his sentence, Jonathan lets out a deep snore...T.J. Hooker's exaggerated style of speaking has successfully put him to sleep.

Susan: Sweetie? Honey? Why don't you get up and go to bed?

Jonathan mumbles something unintelligible, reaching for the lever to lower his recliner's footrest. Up and out of his chair, he makes a weary attempt to wave goodnight as he turns towards the stairs, muttering something that sounds like a combination of 'goodnight' and 'love you' as he disappears up the darkened stairway.

Susan: 'Night, honey. I'll be up in a bit.

No sooner have they heard Jonathan close the bedroom door, Jake is at the hem of Susan's shirt, pulling it up and over her head, her breasts jiggling and jouncing upon release from their green, cotton prison. Susan has a moment of pause, remembering that Haley had gone out earlier that evening...a date with some Brooklyn College freshman...and the idea of the fresh-out-of-high-school hottie coming home to find Jake and her in deep in the middle of...

Susan dismisses the thought...it's too late to stop now. She's gotta have it. Besides, Haley's way over in the East Village and probably won't get home until well after midnight. Already relieved of the button and zipper, Susan pushes her pants under her hips, kicking her 'Mary Jane' shoes off as she does so. Shoes flying, one landing on the coffee table with a 'clunk', the other barely missing the television screen, she lifts her hips, reaching to free herself of the last of her underthings.

Jake: Uh-uhh. Leave 'em on.

Susan leaves the black, lace-fringed panties in place, giving him a salacious smile as she maneuvers herself onto the couch. On her hands and knees, she gives Jake an inviting wiggle of her motherly derriere. Himself down to little more than a pair of socks and a toothy grin, Jake positions himself behind her, pulling the fringed undergarment aside as he presses the head of his substantial manhood between her labia.

She's already slick, her opening practically drooling as Jake pushes inside. All the way in...Susan digs her fingernails into the arm of the couch, her toes balling into fists as his hips come to rest against the backs of her thighs. Hands gripping her waist, where once he would simply start to madly pump away...Jake slowly gyrates his hips, letting her savor every inch of his weighty rod inside her.

Susan: S-s-so... What'd th-that ol' dr-dragon muh...muh...

Susan's voice waivers off as Jake arches his hips, pushing himself into her as far as he can. Hard up against her cervix, she shivers all over, her eyes rolling up in her head as her inner musculature clamps and relaxes around the young man's shaft.

Jake: I'm sorry, what were you saying?

Susan: Ohhhmyfuckinggawd... You... That's... Don't... Don't s-s-stop...

Jake: That... That doesn't sound like a question.

Susan attempts...and mostly fails...to compose herself. This is one of Jake's favorite games: He gets her there, drives her right up to the edge of climax...teasing her...and then tries to carry on a semi-intelligent conversation with her. It's annoying, sometimes letting her peer over that cliff's edge for hours, but she doesn't hate it per se.

Susan: Wh-what'd Gr-gr-gramps t-teach you today?

Jake: Ah, well, I'm glad you asked. He's teaching me the Wǒ de yībùfèn* technique.

Susan: W-woo dee-who... Wh-what now?

Jake: He's teaching me how to use part of my dragon power. Like, for example, staying in human form, but being able to breathe fire -or- dragon-sizing certain parts of my anatomy.

Before his last words can even register in her head, Susan's mouth drops open, letting out a guttural moan of pleasure. Inside her, Jake's manhood expands exponentially, filling every void and pushing the rippled walls of her vagina flat. Not quite dragon-sized, but...

Susan: H'OHMYFUCKINGGAWD!

Susan can't see it, but she can most certainly feel the distinctly column-shaped bulge in her stomach...like something straight out of one of those dirty ecchi comics she sees behind the counter at the corner bodega. If she wasn't standing at the cliff's edge before, she certainly is now...Jake withdraws and plunges the monster inside her, dragging his now-massive head past her 'spot'. He doesn't even need to try very hard; every single erogenous spot inside her, all of them firing at the same time.

Jake again demonstrates his newfound technique, not so much expanding inside her...she can't physically hold any more...but growing in length. And, in effect, he physically pushes her away from him, pinning her shoulders against the arm of the couch. Susan claws and squirms, unable to form coherent words, her vision reduced to a dark tunnel as wave after unending wave of climax courses through her.

With the peaks ebbing and stars dancing in her peripheral vision, having been quite literally been thrown over the cliff, Susan manages to stammer out something semi-intelligible.

Susan: H-hhh-how... How buh-big... How big c-can you...?

Hours pass, and Susan, having been tossed over that cliff several more times, can do little but smile in disbelief. 'How big can you get?', she asked him...

Neither of the pair registers a set of keys in the front door lock, nor notice when Haley comes through the door, home early from her date. Seeing the television on, Haley strides up to the couch, expecting to see someone asleep there...perhaps Susan waiting up for her.

Haley: Hey, I'm ho... HOOLLLY SHIT!

Bug-eyed, mouth agape, Haley can't take her eyes off the traffic-cone-height edifice before her. It... It can't be real, but... Susan, lying across Jake's lap, her arms literally wrapped around the colosus...her face nuzzled up against its streetlamp diameter shaft, she looks up at the young woman with a sleepy-eyed smile.

Susan: Ohh... H-hi, pumpkin. How'd your date go?

*Wǒ de yībùfèn - "Part of me"

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Original Art by Unknown

Colors and Edits by Phillipthe2