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Spamton panted shallowly, grinding as hard as he could against Tenna’s fingers as the TV gently, slowly inserted them into him. He sighed in contentment as he began to feel that stretch, rolling his hips to encourage them deeper. God, yes, that was it, he’d been craving this all day. Tenna groaned approvingly, slowly curling and dragging his fingers inside of Spamton, his other hand furiously working over his own cock.
They’d been fooling around like this for about two months now. Kissing had quickly escalated to over-the-clothes groping backstage, to touching each other in Tenna’s or his own dressing room. They couldn’t get their hands off each other. It almost scared Spamton how strong his attraction to Tenna was (and that was all it was, physical attraction, he told himself) but Angel, he couldn’t get enough of the way Tenna made him feel when he ground down on him, his cock easily dwarfing Spamton’s, and where it ought to make him feel small he felt powerful as Tenna begged for him. How it felt to have that tongue on him, how it felt to have those fingers working him open, bringing him to orgasm—fuck, Spamton was hooked, and it was the most powerful drug he’d ever tried.
And he needed more.
“T-Tens, T—mmm, hey, Big Guy,” he gasped, biting his lip to stop from whimpering as Tenna stroked a particularly sensitive part inside of him. Tenna whined, steam curling from his vents as his hand sped up behind Spamton’s back. Spamton managed to reach down and pat Tenna on the wrist, getting his attention.
“I—hah—what?” the CRT managed, forcing himself to slow down and try to pay attention to Spamton.
“I-I want you i-inside me tonight,” Spamton said, gesturing back towards that monster cock that he ~totally had not been fantasizing about~ for weeks. They’d teased it but Tenna had been reluctant to go further, explaining that it was hard for him to stay small when he was happy and he didn’t want to hurt Spamton. Spamton didn’t care if it hurt, only how it would feel to have that thing inside him, stretching him out—he didn’t consider himself a size queen but he was going to go insane if he didn’t get to ride that dick right the fuck now.
Tenna looked shocked. “But Spam—”
“Come on, Tens—ah!” He thrust against Tenna’s fingers again, his legs trembling. “Don’t m-make me beg,” he huffed.
“Mmm…” Tenna paused, though Spamton wasn’t sure if he was just playing it up or genuinely thinking it over. Spamton gritted his teeth. The damn CRT was going to make him swallow his pride and beg, wasn’t he? Spamton G. Spamton didn’t beg for anything—
“Ok,” agreed Tenna. “But we have to go slowly, ok? Don’t, ah, want to hurt you.” Ha. Tenna folded like a wet noodle, just like Spamton knew he would.
“Oh puh-lease, I can take iiiiIIIAAHHH!” Tenna cut off his assurance with his tongue, holding Spamton prone in one hand while he scissored him open and lapped at his aching, deep pink cock. “Te—Tennnnnnaaaa… what’re you—” He couldn’t even finish his sentence as he felt everything begin to tense up.
Tenna didn’t answer; his mouth worked over Spamton relentlessly as the addison exploded into orgasm. Spamton was deaf to his own cries of pleasure as he writhed on Tenna’s fingers, his sock-clad feet pressing and slipping against Tenna’s screen. He trembled as Tenna withdrew from him, feeling warm, boneless and empty.
“Nnngh… why’d you—”
“You’re going to need to be pretty relaxed if we’re gonna do this,” murmured Tenna, sucking his fingers clean and then carefully cradling Spamton in both hands. In spite of his post-orgasmic bliss Spamton’s eyes widened as he felt the head of that cock rubbing gently against his dripping, relaxed cunt. Oh fuck, Tenna was huge—maybe this was a mistake—
No! Don’t you fucking back out now!
Spamton took a breath as Tenna gently lowered him so he was kneeling over his cock. “Ok?”
“Ok, [Cathode.]” Spamton rubbed against Tenna and the TV whimpered, his hand brushing down Spamton’s back.
“Oh, Spammy… mmmm…”
Before he could overthink it, Spamton lifted himself up—Tenna gently caught his hip to support him—and slowly lowered onto the fat head of Tenna’s cock, the stretch already impressive as it pushed into him. Ohhhhh Angel! The head popped past his opening, snug inside of him. It stung, but that just made him want to keep going.
Tenna’s grip on his hip tightened and he could feel the TV Darkner squirming beneath him, trying not to thrust into him. Forcing himself to relax, he flexed his knees, sinking down onto the massive dick. It was so big—God, it was huge, could he even take it all the way? Tenna seemed to be wondering the same thing, because he blurted out, “You don’t have to go all th—OH MY GOD—”
Spamton G. Spamton was not a quitter. A Big Shot like him? Yeah, he could take any cock. Including the one belonging to TV World’s boss. He pushed down the rest of the way until Tenna was completely inside him.
“S-Spa—Spa—ohmyGod—it’s—you’re so tiiiiight,” groaned Tenna beneath him.
Spamton panted, eyes squeezed shut—he was so full. God, Tenna was impossibly big inside of him, stretching him to his limit, filling every possible inch. He whimpered, shifting back and forth minutely, trying to soothe the sting and ache in his coded muscles. Fuck, he’d never felt the size difference between them more than now. Slowly he opened his eyes, feeling them water, and looked down.
Oh shit, he could see the bulge of Tenna through his own abdomen. He swallowed hard, reaching down and palming it, and Tenna sighed, squeezing at his hips. Thank the Angel addisons were built to be flexible and take a lot of punishment. It did hurt, but almost in a pleasant way, like a deep, soul-filling ache he never knew he’d needed. The pain was melting into sort of a pleasant, aching stretch—no sensitive pixel of him was free from the stretch or the friction—
Ohhh. Mmmm. He needed to move. Carefully, ever so carefully, he rose up a couple of inches and sank down. Tenna moaned in approval and Spamton felt a slow-burning fire catch inside of him. More. He needed more.
He’d never fucked himself on anything this big before but he got the hang of a rhythm after a while, sighing with pleasure as the ridges of Tenna’s cock stimulated his most sensitive spots. He reached down to his own cock, which was steadily dripping precum, and began stroking himself.
The CRT’s antennae twisted at the sight. “Oh, Spammy—y-you—you look ah! Amazing r-riding me,” he managed, his hips rocking slowly underneath the moaning, gasping addison. “[#^@&]—shoot, censors—n-no one’s ever taken all of me on the f-first try,” he sighed, reaching up and gently tracing where the outline of his cock pushed out from Spamton’s stomach.
Spamton’s head was so fuzzy with pleasure he was impressed he got a sentence out. “T-that’s cause you ain’t never had anyone as [good deal!] as m-me,” he croaked, moving faster, needing more friction.
“Can I mo—”
“YES, c’mon Cathode!” he cried as Tenna finally got the hint. The CRT pushed up against him, a gentle upward thrust and oh—OH. Spamton keened with pleasure, rubbing his free hand over his torso, needing to do something with it. Tenna somehow thrust in even deeper and Spamton was surely going to lose his mind with the feeling—
“Oh—Spammy—yes—you feel so perfect—don’t stop—” praised Tenna, thrusting harder, and Spamton met each thrust with shaking legs, the breath punching from his lungs each time he impaled himself onto that giant, ridiculous, perfect—
“Spam—I’m cl—mmm—d’you want to pull off?” asked Tenna suddenly in a strained voice, puncturing the cloud of euphoria. “I’m—it’ll be a lot—”
“I KNOW!” shouted Spamton. “Don’t pull out!” He was so close—
“Spam—”
“I can take it!” He wasn’t actually sure if he could, but he sure as hell wasn’t stopping now. His toes curled as he felt a second orgasm close in. His body clenched rhythmically around Tenna’s cock, every squeeze painfully exquisite. Angel, they should have done this sooner! He was almost there—
“Oh f—f—” Tenna’s attempt to say anything was broken off in a guttural moan as he thrust upwards and Spamton felt him throb and start to come. Oh ok, that was a lot—oh shit it was a LOT—
“AH—” Spamton revised his previous opinion—he’d never felt so full now. Tenna flooded him with so much semen that Spamton could feel it seeping out past the massive dick inside him, having nowhere left to go inside. The increased stretch, the sudden painful saturation—he came so hard he nearly blacked out, his own release splattering Tenna’s stomach in long arcs and his cunt squeezing so tightly around Tenna that the other couldn’t move for a moment. His voice went ragged from his shouts of pleasure, and he absolutely didn’t care at that moment who may have heard him.
He was going to die, but it was going to be amazing—
“Oh… oh, Spammy…”
Tenna’s desperate gulps of breath brought him back out of cloud nine for a moment. Spamton felt dizzy; he was covered in sweat, glowing and shaking, absolutely wrecked. He’d never, in his entire existence, ever been fucked so well. Damn, Tenna might have just ruined him for all other Darkners. And he felt… heavy?
He looked down, eyes wide, and then slowly ran his hand down the round, pregnant-looking swell of his belly. “Oh fuckkkk,” he groaned. Fuck, he was still so full—Tenna was either more pent up than he realized or some kind of freak to be able to come like that. The tight soreness was rather pleasurable. Tenna’s cock was still plugging him up below, keeping him swollen with the amount of cum he’d filled him with. Tenna was staring at him as though entranced, screen dark red, steam clouding the air around them both. His antennae were curled into a heart.
Rubbing one hand against the sore apex of his midsection, Spamton smirked down at him, ignoring the ache in everything below his ribcage.
“Told you I [woulda coulda shoulda] take it!”