Alex had been jerking off to the same fantasy for months: Mia next door, that ridiculous O-cup body spilling out of every tank top she owned, begging him to fuck her raw and fill her until she leaked.
Tonight she stood in his living room at 11 p.m., wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie that barely contained her. The zipper was already halfway down, offering a deep, creamy valley of soft, heavy titflesh that swayed with every breath.
"I'm done with condoms, Alex," she said, voice low and filthy. "I want skin on skin. I want to feel every vein of your cock dragging inside me bare. And I want to watch it later—every load, every messy push-out, every time you breed me like I'm your personal cumdump."
She lifted her phone, already recording. "So here's the deal. We film everything. No limits. All night. You cum wherever you want, but I want it dripping out of me on camera. And tomorrow night we do it again. Convenient. No strings. Just your cock and my greedy pussy until we can't walk."
Her eyes sparkled with something darker than lust. "You in?"
Alex's cock was already straining against his shorts. "Fuck yes."
She dropped the hoodie. Two massive, perfect O-cups bounced free—soft, pale, veins faintly visible beneath the skin, nipples thick and already stiff. She cupped them, squeezed, and moaned like she was touching herself for the first time. "Then start recording, baby. I want the first load on film in the next five minutes."
He set up the tripod, hit record, and she was on her knees before the red light even finished blinking.
Mia rode him reverse cowgirl on the couch so the camera caught everything: her enormous tits swinging like pendulums, the wet, obscene stretch of her shaved pussy swallowing every inch of his bare cock.
"God, you're so much thicker than my ex," she gasped, grinding down until her clit rubbed his balls. "Feel that? No rubber. Just my hot little cunt milking you. You're leaking pre-cum straight into me already, aren't you?"
Alex gripped her wide hips and thrust up hard. The wet slap of skin filled the room. "You love it raw, don't you? Love knowing I could knock you up any second."
"Fuck yes," she whined, bouncing faster. Her tits clapped together loudly. "I'm on the pill but I still want you to flood me like you're trying. I want to feel it shooting against my cervix on camera."
He sat up, reached around, and mauled those gigantic breasts while she rode him like a woman possessed. Her pussy fluttered, clenched, and then she was coming—squirting in messy pulses that soaked his thighs and the couch.
"Inside—now!" she begged.
Alex roared and pumped rope after thick rope straight into her. The camera caught it all: the way her pussy lips gripped him, the first white overflow already pushing out around his shaft.
She didn't let him pull out. Instead she spun, still impaled, and kissed him slow and deep—tongues lazy, breaths shared—while his cock continued twitching inside her.
"Round two in the shower," she whispered against his mouth. "I want to watch the cum run down my thighs on film."
They fucked for six straight hours.
He took her against the glass, tits smashed flat, his second load dripping down her legs in thick white rivers. He bent her over the kitchen counter while the third load painted her womb. On the bed at 3 a.m. she spread her legs obscenely wide, held the camera herself, and narrated every filthy detail as he gave her the fourth: "Look how swollen my pussy is… look how much of your cum is already inside me… push it deeper, baby, I want it leaking out for days."
By sunrise they were exhausted, sticky, and laughing like idiots while she lazily rode him one last slow time—missionary, eye contact, his hands full of her massive tits.
Three weeks later the "convenient" arrangement was anything but.
They had terabytes of raw footage. Mia had started editing the best close-ups into private little movies she watched while she touched herself—then sent him the clips with the caption "miss this inside me right now."
But tonight the teasing had teeth.
She was on all fours on his bed, ass up, back arched so her enormous O-cups hung and swayed beneath her. The camera was rolling from two angles. Alex was balls-deep, slow-stroking, dragging every inch along her g-spot.
"You fucked that girl from the bar last night?" she asked, voice sweet poison. "Did she let you cum inside her raw like I do?"
He gripped her hips harder. "Jealous, baby?"
Mia pushed back, fucking herself onto him. "Yes. I'm the one who's supposed to be dripping your cum every night. I'm the one whose pussy you own on camera."
The dirty talk cracked. Her voice broke on the next thrust.
"I don't want convenient anymore, Alex. I want you to look at the footage of us and realize every single load was because you're falling in love with me the same way I'm falling in love with you."
He pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and slid back in so deep her eyes rolled. The camera caught the tear that slipped down her cheek even as her pussy clenched greedily around him.
"Then stop pretending," he growled, kissing her hard. "I've been in love with you since the first time you let me film my cum leaking out of you. This was never just fucking."
Mia wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper. "Then give me the biggest load of the month right now. Mark me. Claim me. And tomorrow we delete the 'convenient' label and just be us."
He fucked her through another shattering orgasm, then buried himself to the hilt and unloaded—long, heavy pulses that made her belly feel full and warm. She held the camera between her tits so it caught the exact moment his cock throbbed and flooded her, the overflow already starting to seep out around his shaft in thick, creamy rivulets.
When they finally collapsed, still joined, she whispered against his neck, "Keep filming us forever. But now… every load is because you love me."
Alex kissed her slow and sweet, cock still twitching inside her overflowing pussy.
"Deal."
The End