[NSFW!] 𝕎𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨 𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 ♠ | Sᴛᴀʀʀʏ x Pᴇɴɪᴛᴇɴᴄʏ

[Starry]

♠​

The elevator was still broken. The paper sign taped across the silver doors on the ground floor had been scrawled in angry black marker: “OUT OF SERVICE.” On a normal day, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. But today? The sun baked the glass front of Westview Towers until the lobby felt like a greenhouse, and the stairwell was worse - concrete walls trapping the heat, every step a sticky climb into the sky. By the time Chloe-Marie hit the eighth floor, she looked like she’d stepped straight off the set of some sweaty, forbidden photoshoot. A box balanced dangerously in her arms, glossy boutique bags hooked around her wrists, she staggered through the stairwell door with a squeal. The box toppled against the hallway wall, landing with a dull thud that echoed up the beige corridor. She kicked one of the bags into place beside it, huffing, blonde bob plastered to her forehead in damp strands. Her lilac crop top clung like glue, stretched so tight across her tits it looked ready to snap, little wet patches darkening the fabric where sweat rolled. Her shorts - tiny and pastel pink - rode so high they looked painted on, the denim cutting across the swell of her ass each time she bent to scoop another bag. Every move sent her jewellery jingling: massive gold hoops kissing her neck, necklaces slipping between the shine of her cleavage, bracelets clattering against the cardboard she half-heartedly tried to drag closer to her door. “Baaaabe, nooo, I swear I’m literally dying,” she whined into her phone, tucked tight against her ear. Her free hand fluttered dramatically in the air as though whoever was on the other end could see her. “I’m not even joking, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Like, hello? Me? Carrying boxes? I wasn’t made for this!” She plopped the box down again in the middle of the hallway, pouting at it like it had personally insulted her, then leaned against her doorframe in defeat, her glossy lips parted in little breathless pants. Her caller must’ve teased her, because Chloe-Marie let out a girlish giggle, bracelets chiming as she flicked her wrist. “Oh my god, shut up! I’m serious! I need, like, five huge guys just to lift my cushions. I mean, look at me—I’m way too delicate for this. I’m sweating like… everywhere.” She shivered dramatically, though all it did was make her tits bounce and her hoops swing. Boxes and bags were strewn across the hall now, a pastel-pink mess of glossy shopping hauls and clunky cardboard that screamed not packed properly. Instead of tidying them, she crouched down on her haunches, crop top riding up to flash the curve of her stomach, shorts rolling higher as she tapped her nails against her phone screen. “Mhm, yeah… but like, maybe it’s a sign, y’know?” Her voice dropped, sultry in a way she probably didn’t even realize. “Like… maybe the universe wants me to struggle a little. So some big, dark, handsome stud comes walking out of nowhere to help me. Ugh, can you imagine? All sweaty from the gym, muscles bulging, like… mm.” She bit her lip, eyes fluttering, lost in her fantasy. “God, I’d melt right on the spot.” Another laugh buzzed in her ear, and Chloe-Marie rolled her eyes, lifting her bracelets to wipe her forehead, streaking her already-smudged makeup. “Don’t tease me! You know I’m hopeless. New building, new floor, all these doors… what if one of them hides my dream guy? Like… tall, dangerous, the kind of man who just… takes over. You know, someone who's not afraid to share with his friends..” Her sigh was loud and needy, echoing down the hallway. She picked up another bag, dragging it noisily across the floor, her phone still glued to her ear. Jewellery jingled. Nails tapped. Her giggles filled the corridor, bright and ditzy, while the boxes piled up around her feet like she’d barely made any progress at all. Anyone walking past would see the same thing: a blonde bombshell in skimpy clothes, dripping in sweat and gold, surrounded by half-moved boxes because she was far too occupied with her own daydreams to actually finish. She twirled a lock of damp hair around her finger, head tilting with a lazy smile. “Mmm… I just know, babe. There’s gotta be someone here who’s perfect for me. I can feel it.” With that, Chloe-Marie pushed her door open with her hip, still leaving half her life scattered in the hallway like some messy display. She disappeared inside, voice still lilting on the phone, laughter and bangle-clatter echoing as if to announce to the entire floor: Chloe-Marie has arrived.[/SIZE]​

 

[Penitency]

x​

The audible chime of a Lexus car alarm bounced off the walls of a parking garage, denoting it had been locked behind the two men standing beside it. Stylish white sneakers grit the pavement underfoot as two tall males walked away from the red colored vehicle with smiles upon their faces, even if the weather outside was unbearably hot. The humidity felt like the stick that never left you; like being followed by a warm bath. “Yeah, I told you, Marissa is just fuckin’ wit’ you. That bitch ain’t serious.” One of the males barked back; DJ was six foot, four inches tall and packed with muscle. A long, deep cut tank top barely covered not-so-subtle shoulders, and exposed most of his grand pectorals that thrust forwards proudly. Dark skin layered over all that mass, his chiseled arms swaying at his side as he walked toward the elevator with a swagger not many matched. DJ’s chin tipped back arrogantly, his eyes peering to the side to look at his friend with a foolish grin. The male’s voice was deep, gravely, matching that gruff nature of his shredded, bulky figure. A pair of black basketball pants swayed just above the knees, exposing some of the heft of his quads and calves. “Whatever bro,” Caleb muttered under his breath, “at least she gives good head. You’re just jealous you’re not gettin’ any.” Caleb was thicker, bigger than his counterpart. Because of that, instead of opting for a tank top, the brute went with a t-shirt that clung to his protruding gut. Even though his stomach went further forward than DJ’s, Caleb was still stupid strong. Large arms, broad shoulders, all of it looked more wrestler than body builder. Tattoos ran down Caleb’s arms, black blending on black. One hand ran over his shaven head, before scratching the scruff of a thick beard. Some might have called him Rick Ross, but they didn’t live in Miami. “You and I both know that girl uses her teeth more than it’s worth.” DJ joked, both bending over laughing as they continued to walk forwards. Caleb reached out, tapped the elevator UP button as they chatted about the week. DJ pointed to Caleb’s jeans that hung low on his hips, “and next time we hit the gym, what the fuck you doin’ wearing jeans? Shorts, bitch. Shorts. I am surprised that shit ain’t split doin’ squats. Soon enough, they found themselves on their floor, elevator dinging open. DJ nearly tripped on a box, “whoa!” He gripped the open elevator door, leaned over, and noticed the trail went on and on. A blonde. She was talking to someone on the phone about finding the perfect man. A man who shared. DJ put his finger to his lips and looked back at Caleb, “sshh, hold up, cuz. Let me listen.” Caleb held the elevator door open as they ease-dropped, listened, both noticing how stacked the girl down the hall was. A whispered voice came from Caleb, “pstt, ayo, ain’t that the spot that June left last week?” “That’s our new neighbor then?” DJ questioned. The door closed. DJ exited the elevator, waving his friend over. “The bitch went into her room. But she needs some help. Maybe we can welcome her to the neighborhood?” “You see that ass?” “Those tits, you mean,” DJ corrected, motioning to a box. “Pick that up.” “Why me?” “Because you weigh more, you can use the extra calorie burn.” “Awh, fuck you dawg. Shit,” Caleb sighed, picked up one of the boxes, and held it before his strong yet pudgy chest. DING. The doorbell to Chloe-Marie’s place rang out through the interior. Both men waited, but no one answered. DJ furrowed his brows and put a hand on the door. It was open. He carefully pushed, bicep blaring under black complexion. In he stepped, brushing a hand across his ripped abdominal muscles as he spied about, “we noticed all those boxes out there. Figured you could use a hand.” Caleb stepped in last, setting a box down near the door and stood back up, standing shorter at six foot. He’d look about the room, noticing Chloe-Marie had a larger, bigger apartment than the one near them. “Fuck man, we got the shit end of the deal from this. Why is this place so much bigger?” DJ looked back, tellin’ Caleb to chill, before he peeked around a corner, “don’t call the cops,” he comically noted, still looking for that blonde he saw, “we’re here to say hi and help out.” Hi was an understatement. ​

 

[Starry]

♠​

Chloe-Marie had been pacing back and forth between her door and the living room for nearly twenty minutes, phone pressed to her ear while her boxes remained scattered in the hallway like some pastel minefield. Each time she bent to drag one closer, she got distracted - either by her own reflection in the oven door she’d propped against the wall, or by the sound of her own voice filling the empty space. “No, babe, I swear I’m, like, seconds from passing out,” she groaned into the phone, balancing one small box on her hip like it was heavy as stone. “My shorts are, like, glued to me, my tits are sticking together, and I’ve only moved—what—two things? I’m sooo not cut out for this.” She dropped the box with a dramatic puff of breath, flopping against her doorframe like the victim of some tragedy. Her crop top, damp at the hem, clung mercilessly around her breasts, each inhale and exhale making them shift against the thin lilac fabric. Ding-dong. The doorbell made her squeak. Wide-eyed, she froze for a second, then scrambled upright, tugging at her shorts as though that would make her look more “presentable.” The phone was still glued to her ear. “Hold on, someone’s at the—” she started, pulling the door wider. And then she saw them. Two men. Tall. Dark. Gorgeous in the kind of way that made her knees feel weak. The first one - muscles carved under a loose tank, chest broad and gleaming faintly from the heat - looked like he could pick her up and carry her whole apartment in one trip. The second, thicker and broader, tattoos stretching across his arms as he casually hefted one of her boxes, had that heavy, powerful presence that made her breath come faster without meaning to. Her lips parted. Her stomach flipped. On the phone, her friend’s voice crackled faintly: “Chloe? You there?” “Oh my god hi,” she blurted, too loud, too bubbly, staring up at the men like she’d just opened her door to a fantasy. She laughed nervously, twirling a strand of damp blonde hair around her finger. “I’m sooo sorry, I didn’t even—like, I’ve been trying to move all this stuff and—” Her eyes dropped again, sliding over the box in Caleb’s arms, then the way DJ’s tank stretched across his shoulders. Heat flooded her cheeks. “Um, babe,” she muttered quickly into her phone, turning her head just enough away, “I gotta call you back. Something… big just came up.” She hung up before her friend could respond, tossed her phone onto a pile of bubble wrap, and bit her lip as she turned back to them. God, they were even bigger up close. Towering, filling her doorway, looking around her mess like they owned the space already. Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t stop the thoughts tumbling through her mind - how huge they were, how easily they moved, how their voices filled the hallway like a bassline that went right through her. They were everything she’d been daydreaming about on the phone not ten minutes earlier. Tall. Handsome. Black. Powerful. Exactly the kind of studs she’d secretly hoped might live in this building. “You guys are… like, actual angels right now,” she gushed, stepping back so they could enter, her thighs brushing as she squeezed herself against the door to give them room. “I was literally about to just collapse in the hallway. Please, come in—if you don’t mind helping?” She bent to drag another box further inside, ass arched high, shorts cutting into her curves as she glanced back over her shoulder. Her heart hammered. They’re huge. Both of them. Oh my god, what if they think I’m just some silly blonde? What if they think I can’t handle them? Her pout curled into a nervous smile. “Promise I’ll, like, make it worth your while. At least some iced water or something, right?” But as they stepped inside, she caught herself staring at the way DJ’s arm flexed when he brushed the door wider, at the way Caleb’s chest swelled beneath his t-shirt. Worth their while… god, they could do anything in here and no one would even know. Stop it, Chloe. Stop thinking like that. Still, she couldn’t help the way her thighs pressed together as she led them deeper into her new home. She shuffled the little box she’d picked up onto the nearest surface, not even checking if it was steady before setting it down with a dramatic huff. She straightened, brushing her hands over her shorts as though she’d just done something monumental, and flashed the two men a dazzling smile. “Y’know what? Just, like… pop stuff down wherever,” she chirped, gesturing vaguely around the room. “I have no idea where anything’s going yet, soooo… wherever’s fine.” Her gaze lingered a little too long on Caleb’s arms as he lowered a box near the door, the tattoos flexing over thick muscle, and then on DJ’s tank top as it stretched across his chest when he shifted another pile inside. Her pulse skipped, her tongue darting across her lips without thought. She spun away quickly, heels clicking on the bare floor, and made a beeline for the wall unit by the balcony. The ugly little AC box hummed faintly but pushed nothing but warm air, its dial stubborn no matter how she twisted it. “Ughhh, see? This is what I mean,” she whined, leaning against the wall beside it, one hand propped on her hip, crop top riding up to show a sliver of skin as she fussed with the knob. She turned back toward them, pouty and helpless. “Do either of you, like… know how to make this thing actually work? I swear I’m about to die in here. I thought high-rises were supposed to be all fancy with central air and stuff.” Her eyes flitted between them, wide and expectant, her body language a mix of bimbo drama and genuine need. God, they probably think I’m useless. Look at them, they’re so big, so strong, and I can’t even figure out a stupid AC. She tapped the unit with her nail, lips curling into a sheepish little smile. “I promise, I’m not usually this… um… dumb. I’m just sooo hot right now.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and Chloe-Marie winced at herself, cheeks heating. She twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger, letting out a breathy giggle as if to soften it. “Seriously though—if one of you knows what you’re doing, I might just, like, owe you forever.” [/SIZE]​

 

[Penitency]

x​

The two men stood in awe when the bubbly blonde answered the door, her energy immediately like a punch to the nose on either of the bulls standing at her threshold. DJ swallowed hard but his eyes boldly dipped down into the plunge of her top to view the valley of her generous tits swaying about with her erratic movements. They looked like they were about to spill out with any abrupt turn. “You ain’t got to apologize,” Caleb spoke up from behind the muscular brute leading the way, “we figured we’d help a girl in need. No big deal. We help the pretty ones for free.” “-Are- you in need?” DJ clarified, brushing some of his dreads back as his bicep blared outwards, those dark mocha colored eyes still unable to pull themselves out from the damp valley of those big tits. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind as her own eyes roamed over his hard body before the blonde was scanning the thick width of Caleb at the rear. “You could have just flipped that phone on video and let her join us.” DJ teased, noticing the way the blonde worded things– she was flirty. Very flirty. Not that either of the men minded. DJ licked his thick lips with his tongue before brushing his hands before his chest in a prayer-like notion. This had his shoulders and chest swelling up with his biceps, drawing outlines in the thin fabrics of his tank. There was no doubt DJ could pick her up and throw her around like a toy if she so wished. The girl could hang off one of his arms like some movie. “Not sure about angels.” Caleb corrected, “but we definitely know when a dime might need some help.” Both men stepped in when she mentioned it, as if they owned her place already. “Your apartment is bigger than ours– not gonna’ lie, makes me a bit jealous. Going to have to come over often.” “We’ll bring the alcohol,” Caleb interjected DJ, “don’t worry.” When she bent over, both men noticed the curve of her ass swallowing up her shorts. They’d look at one another with big, knowing grins upon her faces. DJ was nearly too animated as he settled his face into his large, open hands as if to say ‘oh my god,’ at the notion of how much this white girl was working with. She might have caught him when she looked back. Her two studs stood, unable to process her body. “We got a feeling you know iced water ain’t going to be enough.” Caleb noted. “Man, shut up and grab that box, peasant.” DJ joked. Caleb sighed, dismissing DJ with the wave of his hand, “shuddup, fool! This ain’t no contest.” “It certainly is, ain’t that right, baby?” DJ smirked as he stepped over toward her, his hand slowly roaming the curve of her ass boldly when he brushed by, entering the apartment room. “Never catched your name, but if ‘baby’ works, we can save the introductions for later.” Caleb muttered, putting another box inside, “corny ass fuck.” As Caleb actually moved in some boxes, his heavy frame easily managed the weight in his tense, tattoo covered arms. One after the other, the bull decidedly helped to move her in, honestly. Sweat rolled from his shaven head, and some of it dampened his tee, making it cling to his wider upper body. His breathing was growing heavier. “Bet I am,” Caleb noted when she told him to just put things about, “what the fuck you got in these boxes, girl?” DJ motioned to Caleb, “see how hard that man works? I think we deserve more than water for this.” As she admired, DJ lifted his shirt casually, letting his hand scratch and brush along the lines of his abs. She’d get a peak of v-cut hips and the lines his fingers roamed, the waistband of his boxers and shorts hanging low. DJ knew she was looking, admiring, her thighs rubbing in delight of the two near. DJ licked his lips and followed her toward the wall unit near the balcony; the sun beamed on the two of them, pouring through the door. Sweat began to dampen DJ’s own clothing, sticking his barely-there tank to a wild, untamed amount of muscle beneath that seemed matte under the beaming rays washing over them. Mocha eyes did their best impression to look at the box, one hand brushing his fingers along his chin and jaw. “Mhmm, yeah,” he paused, eyes diverted unto her body when her top rode up. Her words snapped DJ back to reality, eyes lifting from her ass to eyes, “well, I can give it a shot but now you’re asking for some expensive services. You know what I mean?” Bullshit, he wasn’t about to become an HVAC repairman. “Oh, look,” DJ pointed, “it needs to be turned on.” DJ stepped up, hit the ‘on’ button, and the air conditioning unit– didn’t turn on. It was truly broken. “Yeah, that shit is busted.” Caleb shouted out from the back, “all the units are busted in this bitch. Ours too.” DJ laughed some under his breath at her words, “I know you are. You ain’t got to act smart or shit like that. You know, pretty girls like you have -other- talents I’d rather see than brains.” The muscular bull in front of her pulled down on his waistband some, giving her more of a peak of his v-cut hips, his massive, vein laden, thick cock nearly falling out. A peak of it bent up, contained beneath. “You know what I mean, white girl? I like my girls dedicated more than smart.” Caleb put down the last box, only to see DJ near the blonde now pulling his pants down, springing free a large, black cock that was nearly the size of the girl’s forearm, and it was half-massed, solid, swaying like a pendulum for her. “Ah shit, that idiot is at it again…” She’d notice the sweat running down DJ’s hard abs and the musk of his cock as his shorts fell to his ankles in the hot, humid room. DJ stepped up, put his hand on her neck firmly, and leaned in to brush his thick lips over her own. The man whispered between the kiss, “I ain’t need to know your name, just need to see how good you are.” Before she knew it, as DJ pressed forward with that sloppy kiss, Chloe-Marie would find the outline of Caleb’s cock up against her round, bubbly ass from behind, sandwiched up against her shorts and cheeks like a lewd hotdog. She was surrounded. [/SIZE]​

 

[Starry]

♠​

Chloe-Marie’s giggle bubbled out, high and nervous, when Caleb called her pretty ones. Her hand flew to her chest in mock outrage, even though her cheeks flushed pink. “Oh my god, stop—you guys are, like, seriously too much already,” she babbled, eyes darting between the two towering men as they stepped inside like they belonged there. Her gaze caught on DJ first. He was impossibly built, muscles flexing under his tank, eyes locked low where her top clung damp against her tits. The way he looked at her - open, bold, hungry - made her knees feel weak. When he teased about flipping her phone camera on, her stomach fluttered. She laughed too loud, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger. “Uhh… wow. That’s, like, suuuper bold.” And Caleb - God, Caleb was just as overwhelming. Bigger, broader, with those tattoos running over his arms as he carried box after box inside like it was nothing. When he called her apartment bigger and said they’d be coming over, her heart skipped. “W-well… I mean, yeah, you totally should. Like, duh. What’s the point of neighbours if we don’t hang out?” She bent to shove a bag out of the way, her shorts riding high, and when she glanced back she caught DJ’s wide-eyed expression, hands pressed to his face in exaggerated disbelief at her curves. Her breath caught, lips curling nervously. Then DJ’s hand brushed across her ass as he moved past. The casual, confident way he did it - like it was his right - sent a shiver down her spine. She froze for a beat, lips parted, then whipped her hair with a little laugh. “Wow… okay. You guys are, like, suuuper forward, huh?” Her words wavered, but the way her thighs pressed together gave her away. When Caleb grunted about her boxes being too heavy, she pouted, tossing her hands up. “Ughhh, I know! I think I packed half my closet into one. Sorryyy… I just, like, don’t think about these things.” She giggled, brushing at the hem of her crop top. And then DJ was beside her at the AC, his voice dropping low, teasing about other talents. Her lips curled into a shy pout. “Ohmygod… you can’t just say stuff like that…” she whispered, half-laughing, half-scandalized. She stepped back, her eyes flicking between DJ’s cocky grin and Caleb’s broad shoulders as he stacked another box inside. The room was thick with heat, the broken AC humming uselessly. Then her laugh died in her throat when DJ’s shorts hit the floor. The sight of him - thick, black cock swinging free, heavy as her forearm even half-hard - stole the air straight from her lungs. Her lips parted around a soft, helpless gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. Her thighs pressed together, knees trembling as he stepped closer, the heat radiating off his massive frame. She didn’t even think to pull back when his hand caught her neck, firm and possessive, tilting her chin up until those thick lips brushed hers. The kiss was sloppy, hot, his tongue teasing past her gloss, and Chloe-Marie whimpered right into it, her nails curling into the hard plane of his chest. And then she felt him behind her. The blunt weight of Caleb’s cock pressing up against her ass through her tiny shorts, thick and insistent, pinning her between the two bulls like meat in their grip. A shudder racked through her as her bubble butt moulded to the shape of him, her breath breaking into a needy little moan against DJ’s mouth. Her head spun. She clung to DJ’s chest as he deepened the kiss, her body arching back instinctively against Caleb’s bulk, trapped between heat and muscle on both sides. Caleb’s breath fanned hot against her ear, his girth grinding against her cheeks, while DJ pressed harder, his cock thick and swaying against her bare thigh now, leaving her with no escape. The scent of sweat, musk, and man filled her head, thicker than the heat. Her lips parted around a whimper that slipped free before she could catch it. This was crazy. But god, she’d never wanted anything more. Her fingers started to roam in earnest, no longer shy. Both hands slid down DJ’s chest, nails scraping over the ridges of his abs until she reached the waistband hanging low on his hips. Her rings glinted as she tugged at the fabric, bracelets chiming faintly while her palm slipped beneath to curl around the base of his cock. The weight of it made her gasp into his mouth, her hand barely able to circle it. “Ohhh my god…” she whispered against his lips, stroking once, slow, just to feel how heavy he was. Behind her, Caleb pressed tighter, the blunt outline of his cock grinding against her ass through her shorts. She reached back instinctively, fumbling until her hand found him too - thick and hot even through the denim. Her bangles tapped against his thigh as she squeezed him, the sheer girth under her palm making her knees buckle. Now both her hands were full - one wrapped around DJ’s massive length, the other stroking Caleb’s hardness through his jeans. Sandwiched between them, she whimpered, overwhelmed, but her greedy little hands never stopped moving. Her jewellery sang softly with every stroke, delicate chimes against the raw heat of her touch, the perfect soundtrack to her surrender. She broke the kiss just long enough to breathe, lips glossy and swollen, eyes flicking between the two of them. “You’re both… so fucking big,” she gasped, her voice trembling, her bracelets clinking as her grip tightened on each of them. Then she moaned again, stroking them harder, as if she couldn’t get enough.[/SIZE]​