Me:chubby girl confesses her raw, unfiltered double life. She’s addicted to her boyfriend creamping her, swallowing his cum, and their extreme kinks from
I never thought I’d be the type to lay all this out, but here I am, 22 years old, sitting in my room in Colombia, feeling the heavy humid air coming through the window, and I just need to get this off my chest. I’m not skinny. I never have been. I’m chubby, definitely a bit overweight, but my body carries it in a way that drives guys crazy, mostly because of my chest. I have massive boobs. They’re heavy, they get in the way sometimes, but the way boys stare at them, the way they lose their minds just trying not to look I’ve learned to use that. But despite the attention, I’ve only had a few boyfriends. And none of them ever got the real me. Not like my current boyfriend does. None of them ever got to creampie me. That was a line I held. I don’t know why I was scared of it, or maybe I just knew they weren’t the right ones to feel that with. But him? I let him. I *love* letting him. There is nothing in this world that compares to the feeling of his hot cum filling me up inside. Feeling it pulse, feeling the heat, and then the heavy, wet trickle of it when I stand up. It makes me feel completely claimed. And I love tasting myself on him. I love when he’s been deep inside me and I go down on him after, taking him in my mouth, tasting my own vaginal juices wet and slick on his dick. It’s raw, it’s dirty, and it makes me so horny I could go again right there. He noticed. Of course he noticed. He says I suck his dick like I’m starving for it, and maybe I am. I swallow his cum like it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I love the thickness of it, the way it coats my throat. It’s an addiction. But the kinks don’t stop there. He has one that binds us together in a way I never expected. He loves my pussy smell. Not just in a casual way he *craves* it. He’ll finger me while I’m pissing in the shower, playing with my stream, getting his fingers soaked, and then bring them right up to his nose, inhaling deep like it’s something sacred. The first time it happened, we were about to shower together. I was sitting on the commode toilet, pissing, and he just walked right up to me, leaned down, and kissed my lips. Then his hand slowly moved down, cupping my pussy while I was mid-stream. The feeling of his hand there, the warmth of my pee soaking his fingers, his palm pressing against my clit while I was going—it was overwhelming. I didn’t feel gross. I felt desired in a way I’d never felt before. Like even this private, unsexy thing was something he wanted to be part of. That was the door opening. Then one day in the shower, he told me he wanted to pee on my boobs. I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I felt submissive. Something in me just clicked into place. I went down on my knees in front of him, kissed his flaccid dick, soft and warm against my lips, and told him to do it. His warm pee hit my chest, running over my big boobs, down my stomach, and the smell of it mixing with the steam of the shower it made me insanely horny. It felt like a marking. Like he was claiming me in a primitive way. And I loved it. He’s also the only man who’s ever really known how to touch my ass. He fingers me in anal, sometimes with one finger in my ass and two in my pussy, and the combination makes my whole body seize up. It’s an orgasm sensation that hits from two directions at once, making me clamp down so hard I nearly crush his fingers. He’s great at making me squirt too. He fingers me so hard, so relentlessly, that I’m constantly on the edge of losing control, fighting not to pee while the pressure builds and builds until I explode. Now, I’m a straight girl. I love men. I love my boyfriend. But I have a best friend another girl who I share *everything* with. She knows all of this. Every detail. And my boyfriend knows her. She and I spend overnight stays at each other’s places all the time, just us girls. When we’re chilling at home, we’re often without a bra, sometimes without a top at all. Just comfortable. As girl best friends, we’re totally at ease with each other’s bodies. Bare boobs are no big deal. We walk around, talk, cook, lounge just existing. Our parents don’t know, obviously. But it started back in our dormitory days when we shared a room. That shared space broke down every barrier. One night, while we were laying in bed after sex, the sweat still cooling on my skin, I confessed something to my boyfriend. I told him that when I was younger, my best friend and I were watching porn in her room. No one else was home. We were both fingering ourselves, so horny, so wet, and eventually we tasted ourselves on our own fingers. Then, I don’t even know how it happened—we offered each other our fingers. We tasted each other. And we didn’t feel disgusted. Something shifted. We fondled each other’s boobs, sucked on them, and ended up in a 69. We ate each other out like we were eating our own pussies. We knew exactly what felt good because we knew what we’d want done to us. We made each other squirt. We took showers together. We even pee’d in the shower together. We never went as far as tasting each other’s pee, though. Maybe because we didn’t live in that dorm room long enough for things to go further. Maybe because some line, even a blurry one, still existed. My boyfriend wasn’t shocked when I told him. He just nodded and said it made sense that’s why we’re so close, why we seem more than just best friends when we’re together. Recently, she went through a bad breakup. Her ex was trash, and it had been falling apart for a while. When she finally ended it, I went to see her. She was a mess. Sad, hollowed out. I spent time with her, held her. And then I kissed her lips not a friendly peck. A real kiss. And I whispered to her that no matter what, at least I’m here to eat you. She laughed, but her eyes were wet, and she pulled me closer. I told her everything about my sex life with my boyfriend—the creampies, the cum swallowing, the pussy smell kink, the pee play, the anal fingering, the squirting. All of it. And she wasn’t weirded out. She was genuinely happy for me. She said I was so lucky to have someone I could enjoy that level of kink with, someone who matches my energy and doesn’t make me feel ashamed. And she’s right. I am lucky. But this is my confession. Because as much as I love my boyfriend, and as much as I love what we do, there’s a part of me that still burns for what I have with her. And I don’t know what to do with that. But I know I’m not giving either of them up.
The next weekend, she came over to my place. My boyfriend was out with his friends, so it was just us. We ordered food, put on some series, and settled in. She took her top off almost immediately, like it was a reflex. I did the same. We were just two chubby girls on the couch, boobs out, eating empanadas, not caring. But the air was different this time. She was quieter. Kept looking at me. After a while, she paused the show and said, “I can’t stop thinking about what you told me. About him. About how good it sounds.” I looked at her. “It *is* good,” I said. “Maybe too good.” She bit her lip. “When we were in the dorm… I think about that too. I think about it a lot.” My heart started pounding. I didn’t say anything. She moved closer. Our knees touched. She put her hand on my thigh. “I miss being touched by someone who knows my body,” she whispered. “And you’re the only one who ever really did.” I put my hand over hers. “I know,” I said. We sat there, breathing, the fan humming overhead. Then I leaned in and kissed her. Not like the comfort kiss from before. This was the kind of kiss that pulls something from your gut. She opened her mouth to me, and I tasted her sweet, like the aguapanela we’d been drinking. Her hands found my boobs, squeezing them, kneading them the way only another girl knows how to do firm but careful, thumbs brushing my nipples until they hardened. I did the same to her. Her boobs are smaller than mine but sensitive. She gasped into my mouth when I pulled her nipple. We sank back into the couch, hands roaming, relearning each other’s curves. It was like muscle memory. My hand slid between her legs, and she was already soaked through her panties. “You’re so wet,” I whispered against her neck. “Shut up,” she said, laughing softly, but her hips bucked against my hand. I pushed her panties aside and slid two fingers inside her, curling them the way I know I like, pressing against that front wall. She grabbed my arm, nails digging in. “Fuck, yes right there.” I fingered her slowly at first, then harder, using my thumb on her clit in tight circles. She was breathing hard, boobs heaving, legs shaking. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I’m close I’m gonna ” And then she broke. She squirted, soaking my hand, her thighs, the couch cushion beneath her. She covered her mouth to muffle the sound, but the trembling gave her away. When she came down, she looked at me with wet, wide eyes. “Your turn,” she said, and pushed me back. She yanked my shorts off and buried her face between my legs. Her tongue was hot and precise, licking my clit, then sucking it, then dipping inside me the way she knows makes me crazy. I grabbed her hair, thick and black, and ground against her face. It didn’t take long. The orgasm ripped through me, and I squirted too—right into her mouth, onto her chin. She didn’t pull back. She licked me through it, lapping up everything until I was shaking and oversensitive. We lay there afterward, tangled up, sticky, the couch a mess. She rested her head on my boob, tracing lazy circles on my stomach. “That was better than I remembered,” she said. “It was,” I agreed. We didn’t talk about what it meant. We didn’t need to. Not yet.
A few days later, I was in bed with my boyfriend. We’d just finished he’d creampied me deep, and I was lying there feeling that warm fullness, his cum settling inside me. I was playing with it, squeezing my kegel muscles just to feel it shift. He was lying next to me, tracing my hip. “She came over,” I said casually. He looked at me. “Yeah?” “Yeah. We had sex.” He didn’t flinch. His hand paused for a second, then continued tracing. “How was it?” he asked. I turned to look at him. “Good. Really good.” He nodded slowly. “I figured it was coming.” “Are you mad?” “No,” he said. And he meant it. I asked him if he was okay with her, with what had happened between me and my best friend. He looked at me steadily and said something I’ll never forget. “She was your first partner. She has every right to have sex with you. I’m second.” The way he said it—no jealousy, no insecurity, just simple acceptance—made me love him even more. He understood. She was there first. She knew my body before any man ever touched it. That bond was real, and he respected it. The game was on. And I was the prize both of them wanted to taste.
The following Friday, she came over. My boyfriend was sitting in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, exactly as she’d demanded. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, no shoes. His phone was on the dresser. No distractions. Just him and the show we were about to put on. She walked in and looked at him. “Rules,” she said. “You watch. You don’t touch. You don’t speak. You don’t even breathe too loud.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Understood.” She turned to me. “Take your clothes off.” I pulled my top over my head, unhooked my bra, and let my big boobs fall free. She watched, licking her lips. I shimmied out of my jeans and panties, standing completely naked in front of her and my boyfriend. She undressed slowly, making a show of it for both of us. Her body is softer than mine, curvy in different places, with small boobs but wide hips and a round ass. When she was naked, she stepped close to me and kissed me. It was demanding. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, and I opened for her. I could feel my boyfriend’s eyes on us, burning into our skin. She walked me backward to the bed and pushed me down. Then she crawled over me, kissing my neck, my collarbone, down to my boobs. She sucked one nipple while pinching the other, and I arched into her, moaning softly. I glanced at my boyfriend. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring intently. There was a visible bulge in his sweats. She kissed down my stomach, over my soft curves, and spread my legs. “Look at this,” she said, loud enough for him to hear. “She’s already dripping.” She ran a finger through my wetness and held it up, glistening. Then she put it in her mouth and sucked it clean. “Delicious,” she said. I heard my boyfriend exhale slowly. She went down on me. Her tongue was hot and insistent, licking broad stripes up my pussy, then focusing on my clit, sucking it between her lips. I grabbed the sheets, twisting them, trying not to cum too fast. But she knew me too well. She added two fingers, curling them, pressing that spot, and I was gone. I squirted into her mouth, crying out, body convulsing. She lapped it up, not stopping until I pushed her head away. Then she crawled back up and kissed me, letting me taste myself on her lips. “Your turn,” I breathed. She lay back, and I went down on her. I licked her pussy like it was my own, tasting her, feeling her wetness on my chin. She was different from me lighter taste, but so wet. I fingered her while I licked her clit, one finger, then two, pumping in and out. She grabbed my hair. “More,” she said. I added a third finger, stretching her, and she moaned loudly. I looked over at my boyfriend. He was gripping the armrests now, knuckles white, breathing hard. His cock was straining against his sweats, a wet spot of precum visible. I fucked her with my fingers harder, sucking her clit, and she came apart squirting too, soaking my hand and the bed. I pulled my fingers out and sucked them, looking right at my boyfriend as I did. His jaw was clenched. He was losing his mind. I crawled over to him. “You’ve been good,” I said. I reached out and palmed his cock through his sweats. He groaned, hips bucking. “Can I?” I asked her. She was lying on the bed, flushed, watching. She shrugged, a lazy smile on her face. “He earned it,” she said. I pulled his sweats down and took his cock in my mouth. He was already close so worked up from watching. I bobbed my head a few times, taking him deep, swirling my tongue around the head. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned. I pulled off. “Not yet,” I said. I climbed onto his lap and sank down onto his cock. He filled me perfectly, stretching me, hitting that deep spot. I rode him while she watched from the bed, playing with herself lazily. It didn’t take long. He grabbed my hips and thrust up, burying himself deep, and came inside me with a groan. I felt the heat flood me, that incredible feeling of being creampied. I stayed on him, feeling every pulse. Then I climbed off and lay back on the bed next to her. Cum leaked out of me onto the sheets. She looked at it, then at me. “He really does cum a lot,” she said. I laughed. “Told you.” My boyfriend got up, pulled his sweats on, and went to get water.
When he came back with the water glasses in his hand, he stopped in the doorway. She was between my legs again, eating me out. But this time, she wasn’t just licking my pussy she was licking his creampie out of me. Her tongue was buried inside me, lapping up the cum that was leaking from my opening, mixing it with my juices, swallowing it down. She was moaning as she did it, eyes closed, like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. I was lying back, legs spread, one hand on her head, whimpering softly. The sensation of her warm tongue inside my freshly fucked pussy, scooping out his cum, was indescribable. He stood there watching, mouth open, glasses almost slipping from his fingers. I looked up at him, caught his eye, and smiled. She finally pulled back, lips glistening with a mix of his cum and my wetness. She licked her lips and looked at him. “I love it,” she admitted, her voice raw. “I love tasting you inside her.” He set the water down on the dresser, shaking his head slowly, a stunned, aroused smile on his face. “You’re both going to kill me,” he said.
We lay there catching our breath, the room thick with the smell of sex and sweat. After a few minutes, she and I looked at each other and without a word, got up and headed to the bathroom. We stepped into the shower together, pulling the curtain closed, letting the hot water run over our bodies. It was like the old days in the dorm just us, wet and close, washing each other’s backs, hands sliding over soapy curves. She cupped my boobs from behind, soaping them up, and I leaned back into her. We were in our own little world, steam rising, the water drowning out everything else. After some time, I heard the bathroom door open. I peaked around the shower curtain and saw my boyfriend walking in. I knew exactly why he was there he needed to pee. The toilet was right next to the shower. He was standing there in his boxers, looking a little awkward about interrupting. But when I saw him, something submissive in me sparked. I opened the shower door wider and called him inside. “Come in,” I said softly, my voice low and hungry. “I want to suck you. In front of her.” He hesitated for just a second, then stepped into the shower, the hot water immediately soaking his boxers. He pulled them off and tossed them out. I went down on my knees on the shower floor, the water streaming over my face and chest. She was behind me, giving us some space but still close, watching through the steam, her back against the tiled wall, arms crossed under her wet boobs. I took his flaccid dick in my mouth. It was soft, warm, heavy on my tongue. I sucked it gently, swirling my tongue around the head, feeling it start to harden. I knew exactly what I was doing. I looked up at him with my eyes, and he looked down at me, his jaw tightening, unable to control his reaction even though he’d just cum. I could feel him growing in my mouth, thickening, his girth filling my lips. Then, with just my eyes, I told him what I wanted. I looked down at my boobs my big, wet boobs with the water cascading off my erect nipples then back up at him. He understood instantly. He reached down and squeezed my shoulders, steadying himself. And then he let go. His hot stream of pee hit my chest, splashing over my boobs, running over my hard nipples, warm and thick, mixing with the shower water. I moaned around his dick, keeping him in my mouth, letting the stream wash over my chest. The smell of it hit the steam—sharp, primal, claiming. I was in heaven. Behind me, my best friend gasped softly. She was shocked—I’d told her about this kink, but seeing it was something else entirely. But the shock melted into something else. Her eyes went wide, then dark with curiosity and arousal. A slow smile spread across her face as she watched me on my knees, my boyfriend’s thick girth dick in my mouth, his hot pee streaming over my boobs, and me loving every second of it. She saw how I arched into the stream, how I pressed my boobs together to catch it, how my eyes fluttered shut in pure enjoyment. She saw her best friend being marked, and she understood it completely. When the stream slowed to a trickle, I took him deeper, sucking hard, bobbing my head, and he hardened fully in my mouth. I was still on my knees, pee and water mixing on my skin, his dick thick and pulsing between my lips. Behind me, she whispered, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” I pulled off for a second, looked back at her, and said, “Your turn to find out what it feels like.” We finished the shower together, the three of us standing under the hot water, my boyfriend’s hands on me, my hands on her, the steam hiding everything and nothing at all. That night, the three of us slept in the bed together. Me in the middle. His hand on my boob, her head on my shoulder. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t complicated. It just was. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had to choose. I didn’t feel like I had to hide a part of myself. I had a boyfriend who creampied me, who loved my pussy smell, who peed on my boobs in the shower and fingered my ass while he fucked my pussy. And I had a best friend who knew my body from the inside, who could make me squirt with her tongue, who tasted like home. And somehow, they both understood each other. She respected what he gave me. He respected what she and I shared. And in that shower, something new was born something that belonged to all three of us.
🔞 Candy.AI 🔥 AI Sex Chat – Roleplay, Erotic Stories, Try for Free 🕹️