Chapter 69: Feeling Camilla’s Body or Camilla’s Plump Pussy (r-18)

The biggest, life-changing confidence came from doing the biggest or the most bravest and corruptive thing a person could do!

Or at least that was what Damon discovered about himself when he stood up after Camilla’s feet had blown his mind under the table and asked Eisheth, bold as anything "Could you spare me some time today after dinner." while Camilla was already moving to take him downstairs to "show" him something his mother had told him to do for her before she came back.

He did not know how right that excuse would sound. He only knew she had done what he asked in a text... Damon had taken his phone after the feetjob under the table and typed:

Damon:Get us an excuse to get us out of here. I have many, but it’d be more believable if they heard it from you.

Of course, Camilla had taken about ten minutes to check the phone. Ten minutes where her feet had gone still and let him go down enough that he could stand without writing to the whole evening on the front of his pants about what had happened under the freakin’ family table.

Then she had cooked the lie, risen with that calm assistant face, and led him out.

Damon stepped behind her on the stairs.

Camilla had worn a black cropped hoodie, hood up, the hem stopping short of her waist; lower she adorned tight little shorts with white side stripes, so short the curve of her ass ate the short.

Every step down made her ass cheeks work against the cloth, the split of her showing through the back seam, the undersides peeking when she took a stair.

Each ass cheek (which he knew full well their entire shape) sat too full for the cut, the fabric stretched shiny over the roundest part, then dug in at the crease where ass met thigh. When she stepped down, that crease flashed skin.

When she stepped up, the back seam sank into her cleft until the shorts looked painted on.

No one in this house seemed to care what they wore around him.

Only Lilith stayed conscious of what she wore but the rest dressed like the house was theirs and he was furniture; or like they didn’t care how much of their bodies he saw to the extent Lilim wouldn’t care if she sat and her jean gave her her thong and it also gave away her ass cleft or even Camilla and other themselves.

’Not that I am complaining.’

Now since this morning he now knew every inch of that ass already but knowing it did not help.

The shorts hugged it so tight he could see the round of each cheek lift and drop; The crop left a strip of stomach bare. When she took a stair the hoodie bounced on her tits and the shorts crawled up, the seam sinking between her cheeks until he could see skin at both leg holes.

Her tits were a problem in that hoodie and she had no bra in.

The crop sat under them and still could not hide the hang and the bounce. Each stair made them surge, then settle, two big soft weights fighting the cloth, nipples already printed. From behind he could see the side-swell when she turned the landing; below he could see the fat print of her pussy in those shorts, a plump mound riding forward between her thighs, the seam swallowed by it, a darker damp line starting down the middle.

Damon suddenly moved past her at his door, he opened it, and the second she crossed the threshold he slammed it shut.

He did not wait for a speech before he kissed her.

Her eyes froze midair where she was a about to push him from instinct as Damon kissed her in an open hungry kiss; he then caught her mouth and sucked her lower lip like he was an expert and this wasnt his first kiss, he then pushed his tongue in and took the taste of wine off her.

Camilla’s eyes had gone wide.

She recovered and her hands pushed at his chest in a real little shove, like the boy from tea had been replaced by somebody else but Damon just clicked the lock anyway and hauled that plush body by her waist into him.

Since he was taller naturally his dick punched her stomach first, then slipped down and lodged between her thighs, a fat line riding the crotch of those tiny shorts. Her pussy was right there through the cloth, plump and hot, the fat lips he’d seen today were already split around the seam of his dick through the shy of her pants; he could feel it.

He felt that softness first as it gave when he shoved up into her pussy onto his cock.

She recovered first and put two fingers on his mouth, not pushing him off the kiss so much as pausing it: "You talk. I decide when you put it in." She said, whatever that meant, for all he knew it could be an AI before she then let him have her mouth again.

She bit him back and her tongue chased his.

She moaned into the kiss like she had been waiting all dinner to stop being civilized.

He did not break the kiss but one of his hand locked on her waist while the other went to her ass and the feeling of it finally in his hands after all those years and fantasizing about doing it, almost ended him.

It was so warm even in her short, soft and giving under his palm and the cheek overflowed his fingers when he squeezed; he then boldly palmed the whole round of it, then the underside, then dragged his fingers up the cleft through the shorts until the seam disappeared between her cheeks.

He pulled her closer and the shorts dented around his hand.

His fingers slipped lower, he found the back of her thigh, and he slightly opened one leg from behind.

At the front, Damon took his hand off her waist and fed his dick into the new gap between her thighs that he’d opened, still covered and rock steel and he let it sit right under her pussy with only two thin layers between them.

Damon dragged the head along that fat printed slit until the shorts went darker; then he thrusted his dick like he was fucking her and the whole length sat between her middle and over her plump cunt riding the top of his dick like a mouth that had not opened yet.

Camilla moaned into his mouth.

Her eyes stayed wide.

He closed her thighs around him tighter; she closed them even tighter.

Then Camilla rolled her hips and did it on purpose, dragging her fat covered cunt along the top of his shaft like she was the one using him. She did it slow first, then meaner, grinding the wet seam up to his head and down to the base, her ass worked in his hand with every roll.

The heat of her cunt dragged along the top of his shaft through the shorts. He groaned and broke the kiss, forehead against hers.

"Fuck, Camilla. I have wanted you for so long." He drew his hips back.

She opened her thighs a fraction to let him pull, and even through the pants he felt it; the fat line of her pussy had parted around him as he slid back. Then he held her waist and that ass and thrust forward, burying the length between her thighs again, the head kissing the front of her shorts.

The head then bumped her clit through the cloth. She jerked.