Thunder Thighs
Five minutes ago, the sirens started going off.
Everywhere, people stopped what they were doing and swarmed the streets, fleeing to the safety of the city’s designated bunkers. Tight crowds packed shoulder to shoulder as they headed down into the city’s subterranean complexes, ready to stay there for the entire day if need be.
The alarms were situated throughout the city, and their distressful droning was audible everywhere. Even after hearing the sound for years, it still put you on edge as you resisted the urge to bolt from your apartment and join everyone else who was making a bee-line down to the building’s private bunker.
Instead, you held tight to the vintage camera that hung from a strap around your neck and waited. Too many times your courage faltered, making you flee to the basement at the last minute. There, you would be sealed safely inside with everyone else.
Not this time, though.
The minutes passed, and you waited until silence fell. No people. No alarms. Your apartment was emptied out, and now you could make your way into the hall. Already, faint tremors shook the building. A very faint booming echoed in the distance.
Wasting no time, you bolted down the fire escape stairs. Your heart was racing as the tremors slowly increased in intensity. Still, they were far enough off – you knew you had time.
You exited the building and found yourself in an empty city. The experience was uncanny, looking at the streets and tall buildings near your own apartment, all completely devoid of people. Nearby, flashing red monitors displayed the message:
CITY ATTACK IMMINENT SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY
In the distance, the screeching of steel and concrete in collapse rang out. Elsewhere, the tremors grew faster, more rhythmic, moving in time with the repeated booming sound that tore through the city.
He was running.
You didn’t have time to waste. Taking out your city map, you ran forward along the sidewalk. Abandoned cars littering the streets shook with the increased intensity of the tremors. You had made a lot of guesswork several times before this, and almost every time, you had been correct by a block or two.
Your guesstimate put the final destination about three blocks down, but he was faster. As you continued running, you saw him effortlessly close the gap between one block and another as he bounded down the road.
For a brief moment, Thunder Thighs came into view.
He was a lean, snow white cat, one wearing a black eye mask that accentuated his piercing, green eyes. He boasted a lithe upper body and the taut muscles of a gymnast. It was in sharp contrast to his signature thighs: thick, powerful, and wide enough to gently brush the sides of buildings when he walked more narrow streets. This, of course, meant he was packing a backside that was the envy and desire of many admirers – yourself included.
And to top it all off, he was absolutely massive.
Not just his hips, of course. Thunder Thighs was a giant. A giant large enough to crush a car underneath a wayward footstep.
He was large enough that he could peer into the upper floors of an office building and wave, all the while giving those a few floors below an eyeful of his bouncing bulge, poorly concealed by a layer of spandex.
And spandex was certainly something he knew how to use to flatter his assets. The sleek, black bodysuit that was his costume ran from calf to shoulder, more accentuating than hiding its owner's shapely figure, leaving little to the imagination while contrasting with the heavenly white fur underneath.
You had seen him before, of course. Everyone in the city had. At parades, routine patrols, or even those rare emergencies where civilians just couldn’t get underground in time. Once or twice, you’d even looked out and watched wistfully as his enormous legs passed your bedroom window, separated by a few inches of glass.
Thunder Thighs was an on the nose moniker for the size-shifting superhero who protected your city. The name began as an insult on the internet in the hero’s earlier years. It was an accurate one, considering the impossibly prodigious hips the feline possessed, but he took to this new title with gusto, and that was when he adopted his stretched, skin-tight suit that left little to the imagination.
Many had complained about the indecency of it, but others, like yourself, loved that costume. And that's why you were about to take a risk – a very stupid and incredibly dangerous risk.
You were going to take photographs of the city’s titanic protector.
While he fought a giant monster.
You heard a terrible screech reverberate through the air, not too many blocks away. The two must have finally encountered one another. And from the sudden, percussive booms, you were sure that the fighting had begun.
At this point, you fought every instinct to flee, going on a full sprint past subways with shelters you could still retreat into. You weren’t going to throw your chance away. Rounding a corner, you finally reached the street where they were fighting. The silhouette of a misshapen monstrosity the size of a city building undulated in the fallout of dust and debris, which was already coating the cars and roads. You snuck inside the entrance to a parking garage, waiting for the haze to clear as you hid behind a wide support beam of concrete.
The two titans were grappling, you could tell that much, Thunder Thighs’ arms had entwined with a series of tentacles that lashed at his chest and arms. Even a simple shift in weight from one of the opposing behemoths created a percussive boom that forced you to shift back behind the garage’s concrete pillars.
Then, Thunder Thighs spun away, actually turning his back on the thing. You gasped as you saw an enormous tentacle strike him. The behemoth hero let out his own gasp, staggering forward a little. He swiveled to face the monstrosity once more, but began to back up.
Towards the parking garage.
If you hadn’t been a complete idiot, that would have been the sign to flee, but you were rewarded for your mixture of bravery and foolhardiness, because when Thunder Thighs drew closer, you saw that the monster’s attacks had done a number not on the hero’s body, but most definitely his costume.
There it was, in all its glory: the two behemoth globes that made up Thunder Thighs' backside – two perfect, white furred cheeks twice as tall and wide as any man.
Even if he was a bit of a tease, the times Thunder Thighs went nude were practically nonexistent. Except, of course, in the case of a wardrobe malfunction.
You were going to make a killing with this picture. After you kept a copy for yourself, obviously.
There was a flash of light from the camera, and that perfect shot of Thunder Thighs was all yours.
What you didn’t expect was for that flash to catch his attention.
For a split second, the titan turned to the source of light, and in doing so, left himself open. A crushing tentacle surged forward and knocked him off balance, sending Thunder Thighs stumbling backward.
Directly into the parking garage you were hiding in.
It sounded as if the entire world was collapsing upon you. The roar of destroyed concrete and crushed cars cascaded from above. You futilely covered your head as debris began to rain downward. This had always been a stupid idea, but you never expected it to be fatal, all because you had a crush on a stupid…
You were bracing for an impact that never came.
Opening your eyes, you saw that the ceiling wasn’t a ceiling at all. It was a wall of white fur and shredded spandex. Behind you, two hands dug into the earth, and from above, Thunder Thighs himself stared directly down at you.
You took a step back, unsure what to do. Somewhere behind Thunder Thighs, the monster lumbered forward. You looked around, but wherever Thunder Thighs hadn’t used his massive body as a shield, rubble and piled cars blocked your path.
Before you could even begin to weigh your options, an enormous hand wrapped around you. You were faced with a rush of wind for only a brief moment before being tossed into a warm, wet, and lightless cavern.
You let out a strangled cry as gravity shifted around you and you started to grasp exactly where you were: the inside of Thunder Thighs' maw.
A powerful tongue that surpassed your own height pushed down on you, leaving you pinned against a wall of jagged teeth, far from the back of his throat. Some hopeful part of you thought that might be a good sign, but the rest of your psyche only permitted that you shake in absolute terror as Thunder Thighs began to move.
Though you were still held in place, you could feel every movement he made while the sound of the ensuing fight echoed around you. The bass roar of the monster. Thunder Thighs’ grunts. Buildings collapsing and alarms suddenly blaring. You could hear it all through the muffled interior of your hero’s maw, and all you could do in the meantime was cling for dear life to his wet tongue.
Minutes passed, the thick air growing hard to breathe. Thunder Thighs had kept his mouth clamped shut the entire time. You could hear his haggard breathing, in fact, you could feel it, as each pant wafted up from the back of his throat in the form of a powerful gust of hot air.
An agonized cry came from outside: the guttural groans of the enormous beast Thunder Thighs had been fighting. Its unearthly wails were beginning to die down.
Thunder Thighs seemed to slowly walk away. Then, at last, the world grew still, and all was quiet. You were gasping for air, as the damp breath of your heroic captor didn’t seem to be a perfect substitute for oxygen. To make matters more uncomfortable, you were sure you had started sweating at some point, but you were so utterly saturated with saliva that you couldn't be sure how much of the fluid on your body was truly yours.
Light came from the end of the tunnel, or rather maw. A steady hand reached in and pulled your soaking form out. You couldn't be sure how much time you had spent in there, but your eyes had grown so used to the dark you were now squinting against the not-so-harsh rays of the noon day sun.
As Thunder Thighs raised you to meet his gaze, you offered no struggle. Instead, you shook with the sheer adrenaline that a near-death experience brings. Whether it was the terror of having been trapped in a mouth larger than your own bedroom, nearly being entombed in five stories of concrete, or the lack of air, you were deliriously lightheaded, with a racing heart that belonged more to a rabbit than yourself.
"Are you okay?" Thunder Thighs asked in a surprisingly gentle voice.
It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. Still dazed from your wet and wild encounter with your hero's maw, you could only nod. He let out a relieved sigh, then scowled a little. His grip tightened ever so slightly, reminding you of the fact that, however gingerly he handled you, he could crush you with ease.
"What were you thinking, citizen?" he asked. His voice still wasn't loud, but he sounded stern, now, like a parent scolding a child. "You need to stay in lockdown until things are safe out here.”
“Where’s the monster?” you asked, stupidly, still trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t move your upper body from within his grasp, but you swiveled your head around – though you wished you hadn’t. With Thunder Thighs standing, you realized you were high above the ground, high enough that you suddenly wanted to be held even tighter.
“I’ve dealt with it,” he said, that gentleness returning. “You’re very lucky I spotted you.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, your heartbeat slowly starting to steady itself. You were smiling, even, though that was mostly in disbelief. How many people could say they had been in Thunder Thighs’ mouth, of all places? “I didn’t expect you to put me in your mouth, but… Thank you.”
“It was the safest place I could think of.” He grinned. “No need to thank me, though, citizen.” Just then, his eyes narrowed a little. “But, now that I think about it… There was something that caught my attention. It wasn’t you that I spotted…”
You gulped, knowing you couldn’t do anything to conceal the saliva-soaked camera that hung at your side. You could only brace yourself as Thunder Thighs gingerly tilted his palm back and opened it, leaving you reclined in his right hand while his left was cupped just underneath it, as if to make sure you wouldn’t fall.
You could only lay there, propping yourself up slightly with your elbows as his nose drew closer to you, and those two huge, green eyes surveyed your entire form. His eyes widened.
"I knew I heard something!" A small grimace played across his maw, but he was glaring a little. "No wonder you were out here – you're paparazzi."
"No!" you exclaimed, but it was too late. He brought you closer to the maw you had just been trapped within, giving you a front row seat to those jagged teeth that had protected you only a minute ago.
In spite of having been well acquainted with that mouth, it was still absolutely terrifying. Of course, you knew that Thunder Thighs hated the idea of paparazzi. Not only because they were putting themselves in needless danger by coming up here during an attack, but also because he knew that the most compromising of pictures would be relentlessly circulated on the internet. Thunder Thighs may have been a showoff, but he did keep his figure relatively covered.
What you didn’t know was whether or not he had ever caught someone taking a shot of him in the almost nude, and if he had, what had become of that person.
You supposed you were about to find out.
"Maybe you wanted to get a shot at my shredded costume?" he asked. "Show my butt off to the world?"
The open palm you had been reclined on became a closed fist yet again, tighter than before, but still not enough to be crushing. Rushing wind and sudden vertigo crashed over you as Thunder Thighs lowered you until you were face to face with his backside. He still held onto you as he showed off his round, white-furred rump, still dirty with dust and debris from his battle, and poking out from his shredded, black suit; it was a miracle that those rolling hills of toned rear had ever been contained by that thin veneer of fabric.
In any other situation you might have appreciated the sight, and if you lived, maybe you would look back to that moment as the closest you ever got to an ass large enough to crush a bus, but right now you could only try to stammer a half-baked explanation as Thunder Thighs moved you once again on a rollercoaster tour of his body.
Effortlessly, the titan lowered himself to a sitting position, stretching both of his long legs down the entirety of the city’s street, thick thighs spilling out and pushing parked cars onto the sidewalk.
"Or maybe you wanted a close-up of my namesake?" You were now held just above Thunder Thighs' thunder thighs. You could normally only imagine what his fields of cream white fur and the jiggling expanse of soft flesh might look like restricted underneath all of that spandex – now, as he held you over them, you got the most tantalizing view of your life. The spandex had been ripped in places along both of his impossibly long legs, and where shredded fabric once contained the enormity of his thighs, it now made them look even thicker. The fabric was taut around the exposed parts, which seemed to strain and push against their confines, hinting at just how tightly the spandex hugged those creamy thighs.
"I, um..." But you were speechless at the sight. He lowered his hand before loosening his grip, letting you stumble out onto the pavement, right between those walls of white fur and black spandex. You righted yourself as you now stood face to crotch with your hero, his prominent bulge only slightly concealed by the tatters of his costume.
"Well?" he asked, arms folded as he looked down at you. "Aren't you going to take your shots?"
"What?” you balked.
"You heard me, citizen." You had, you just didn't quite believe it. "You risked your life to come all the way out here, aren't you going to get what you came here for?"
“I, um, I already got a shot. I'm not even sure the camera still works." You practically stammered the words.
"Only one way to find out, right?" He still regarded you coolly. Even if Thunder Thighs wore revealing clothes and stood a good 75 feet tall (76 feet, 3 inches, in truth – one of the many bits of trivia you knew about your city’s resident hero), he still liked to have some semblance of privacy. This was obviously a ploy.
With a nervous gulp, you raised the camera. From your perspective, you could make out the edges of those white furred balls underneath his shredded spandex suit, which was now more like a skirt at his midsection. To your left and right, high-rising walls of flesh, fur, and fabric hedged you in.
With shaking hands, you used your camera to frame the curvature of his titanic thighs and crotch. You angled it slightly upward, allowing for a perspective shot of the smirking, white cat.
You pressed a button, and the camera flashed. At the very least, it was still functional. Hoping Thunder Thighs was satisfied with your work, you lowered the camera.
"I didn't say stop," he huffed.
“Oh, um… How many shots did you want me to take?”
“Just keep taking them, and we’ll find out.” You didn’t trust his smile one bit, but who were you to argue with a man who could raise a single paw up and crush you underneath it?
Raising the camera, you continued to take your shots. You tried slightly different angles, though your efforts were half-hearted. Mostly, you just hoped he would get bored and finally stomp off, and you could go home and possibly have a heart attack after everything that happened today.
Instead, with each shot, you noticed the not-so-subtle shifting of his thighs. How could you not? Each movement seemed to send a slight quiver through them. What worried you, however, was the fact that they were inching or, from his scale, footing closer to you.
Having done your best to ignore it, you continued to take your shots. That is, of course, until most of your shots had become nothing but a wall of black and white. The distribution of fat in his thighs was thickest near waist, forming a natural barrier that started to block him from view. Of course, his legs had also grown dangerously close to you. Close enough that, if you truly had a death wish, you could reach out and touch them.
“Uh…” was the only thing you could think to say as you looked at the natural barrier that surrounded you.
Then, in an instant, you were clapped between both legs. The two monumental thighs closed in around you, and you were surprised that their owner let out an almost effeminate giggle as the warm, jiggling walls took up every inch of space available to you. Underneath all of that pressure, you could only gasp for air as you heard the camera’s click going off repeatedly from the constant jostling. You pushed in every direction, trying to gain ground against the overwhelming thighs that continued to squish you into one another, but it was hopeless. Even if the flesh was so cushy that your hands practically sank into it, wherever it yielded, more would take its place.
For a normal person, this experience of being mercilessly smothered within a velvety prison would have been terrifying. Of course, normal people didn’t go out into the city when a giant monster was attacking it just for a photograph of a superhero.
A superhero you were very much attracted to.
A superhero who was now completely entombing you in the monstrous set of thighs you had long since dreamed and drooled over.
You couldn’t help but start to get hard. Almost painfully so, as the erection confined by your jeans was mercilessly pressed by a tonnage of smooth spandex and soft fur.
Overhead, you received an occasional glimpse of your captor, now slightly reclined, arms stretched back and hands resting on the road behind him. “Maybe you could be my photographer,” he said, though his words sounded muffled from your current position. “I could fit you right into one of my pant legs whenever I go on patrol… And maybe I’d pull you out when I thought it was time for a flattering photo op.” He laughed again. “Kind of like having a camera in your pocket.”
Suddenly, like a change in the sea’s tide, both thighs receded, and you were left standing between them, gasping for air once again as Thunder Thighs looked down at you, clearly pleased with his handiwork.
“I’m sorry,” you gasped, hoping that was what he wanted to hear, while also trying your best to be inconspicuous about the erection that had formed in your pants. “I won’t do it again.”
"You know…” Thunder Thighs leaned forward, and you knew from the way he said those words that he wasn’t done with you. “Even if I'm not totally nude, I'm still showing a whole lot more skin than you." He prodded you with a single pointer finger, smiling all the while. “In fact, even if my costume wasn’t ruined, one of my bare hands shows more skin than your whole body, so..."
You let out a yelp as Thunder Thighs extended a single claw. That thing was used to slash through the hide of stories-tall monsters. On you, well… You didn't want to think about it. You backed away, only to end up walled off by the palm of his other hand.
Then, the claw slashed downward.
You closed your eyes and screamed.
A rumbling laugh came from overhead. Realizing that you were miraculously still alive, you slowly opened your eyes…
And realized your shirt had been shredded right down its middle, the rest of it sliding right off your body.
"You could have killed me." You meant to have shouted it, but you were so shocked by what had happened, you uttered the words breathlessly.
He seemed to have heard you nonetheless, as he replied, "I never hurt citizens." He sounded serious. "But I do dispense justice!" His chest puffed out a little at the last word, and if he had been standing, you were certain he would have struck a heroic pose.
"Now, are you going to take the pants off, or do I have to?"
"We're outside!" you protested. “What if someone sees me?”
"That would be embarrassing," he agreed, a fresh grin playing across his face as his thighs closed in on you once more like crashing waves. The warm flesh kneaded you from all sides. The soft strands of fur felt amazing against your bare chest, and you wondered just how it might feel to have your crotch squished against those downy thighs. Your erection went to full-mast, almost painfully tightening against your pants.
He released you again, and you doubled over, hands on your knees. "What was that for?” you asked, trying to catch your breath.
"Just proving a point," he said, casually. Just then, you felt a single claw at the back of your pants, and in an instant, they had been shredded right off of you.
Left stark naked, your crotch was bared to Thunder Thighs, and before you could cover up in embarrassment, you were sure he could see your erection. Surprisingly, the sight must have pleased him, as you saw the concealed monster of his crotch stir ever so slightly underneath its canopy of fabric.
"Not just paparazzi, but an admirer, too!” You were unsure if he said that to mock you this time. “How about you take some more pictures?" he asked. "You know, some shots of me with one of my fans – it even looks like you were practically swallowed by a giant monster!"
You suspect it did, considering your hair was still damp with Thunder Thighs' saliva.
“Well, I’m not wearing any clothes,” you said, trying not to call attention to the very obvious erection you were covering up. Luckily, with you no longer smothered by those massive thighs, you had started to soften a little.
“They must have dissolved,” he said, nonchalantly. “The monster’s saliva melted them right off of you.”
You didn’t say anything, but he still looked expectantly down at you.
With no choice but to comply, you sighed and turned away from him. You took some "selfie" shots – not the most professional photoshoot of your life, especially with you sporting an erection while a much larger, partially aroused cock lurked in the background, its owner hunched over, posing and making stupid faces while giving you the largest bunny ears ever recorded on camera.
At the very least, it didn’t seem like he wanted to crush you with his thighs any longer. Well, you hoped he didn’t. Without any clothes, you’re not sure how long you could last before your hormones forced you to do something very, very shameful.
"Well, citizen, I think you’ve almost gotten enough shots. Though, when you took your first photograph, I think it was at a very different angle," he observed, smirking down at you. Now that he knew some part of you was enjoying this, he seemed to be enjoying it even more than he had been.
Perhaps a little too much, if the gradual stiffening from his crotch was any indication.
Like a tent, the tattered fabric rose around the titan's stirring loins, and even at half-mast, it already dwarfed you with ease.
"But who could blame you," he tutted, thighs slowly closing around you once more. You struggled in vain. “Or, should I say... Butt who could blame you?”
You would have groaned at the stupid joke if you didn't have several tons of squishy cat thigh compressing you from all directions, made all the worse by your shameful enjoyment of it. Each muscular contour and overlapping patch of fat rubbed against your crotch in a relentless, jiggling massage.
Once you were painfully hard, he released you from your prison. He seemed to lean in closer, as if to observe the effect he had on you. "Better take some good shots while you're back there, citizen.”
His hand came down and pinched you up from the sides. For a few moments, you dangled before being placed about ten feet behind him, leaving you in the shadow of his arched back, but you were sure that wasn’t what he wanted to show you. Instead, you looked on at his colossal cheeks, situated underneath a long, white tail that playfully swished through the air. Even having sat on the street for only ten minutes, the prodigious posterior had managed to create a set of craters in the ground. Even the slightest of Thunder Thighs’ movements sent some part of his backside in motion; it was an impossibly perfect mixture of fat and muscle, freed from its spandex confines and left in the open for you to gawk at.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he admitted. He had swiveled to look down at you. You were sure those superheroically keen eyes were regarding your very obvious erection. “That’s why I usually keep them covered.” You winced at the accusatory tone, but when he said nothing else, you got to work.
At the very least, it was starting to look like you would live through this, and if you did, these photos would become a collection worth having, even if it was a very, very private one. However, with each shot you took, you realized that he was starting to scoot back. Considering what happened last time he started closing in on you, this gave you a bit of a bad feeling. Of course, part of you wanted him to come closer, his vast backside bringing itself more and more into view for you to appreciate.
You noticed a parked car nearby, easily dwarfed by a single, encroaching cheek. “Ah…” You spoke up, and somehow, Thunder Thighs heard you, swiveling his back to look down.
“Hm?”
“Why are you backing up?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt.
"Why am I backing up?” He turned to face forward once again, as if the question wasn’t worth consideration. "I just want to make sure you get a shot that really shows exactly how… statuesque I really am.”
You watched helplessly as he backed up again. He didn't even care as his ass overtook the hood of a car, a single cheek pancaking its front, the rest of the car suspended mid-air. Despite your surprise, you thought to take a shot of this. Never had you seen a picture that impressed the sheer weight and enormity of that ass than an effortless crushing of a car. Soon, he backed up again, and the car’s seats were crumpled underneath the encroaching tide of white cat cheek. Soon, the entire thing was lost beneath the rotund wall of rump.
"The state will pay for it," he said, uncaringly. “People are irreplaceable, citizen, but things can just be bought and built again.”
And now, with the car lost in the plush wall of fur and flesh, he had closed the gap between the two of you, having drawn so close that you now stood face to face with his canyon of a crack, a deep divide that separated two meteoric cheeks which formed strained spiderwebs in the pavement.
"You know..." You jumped a little as part of his enormous tail brushed against your bare back. It had glided silently through the air, like some great serpent sneaking up on you despite its size. "After all of this work, maybe you've earned a close-up...”
You started to back up a little, ready to protest, when you were pushed forward by his tail. You tripped and would've landed flat on your face if not for the fact that there had been a plush wall of posterior mere feet away. Instead, your face planted right into his soft ass, sending another quaking rumble of laughs from your heroic captor.
"I'm always so stressed after a fight," Thunder Thighs admitted, his voice sounding a little husky. You felt the shifting of his weight as you propped yourself up, hands practically sinking into his backside.
You couldn't be sure, but it seemed that one of his hands was slowly moving up and down. "All of this life and death heroism can really put you on edge," he sighed – and that sigh made you almost certain about what he was doing.
“It's lucky I caught myself a cute, little troublemaking admirer.”
His butt inched back a little, bumping into you and forcing you to stumble backwards, causing you to trip on his long tail. You were sprawled right out on top of it, its width and silky fur making it feel almost like a bed.
"Stay right there," he said. And suddenly, keeping his tail in place, he used one hand to start propping his massive form up in the air.
From your new vantage point underneath Thunder Thighs, you could now see his other arm working an erection twice the size of your body, and your hero's huge face looking down at you.
Then, with a sudden shift of his legs, the ass that was raised above concrete and a crumpled car now hung directly above you, blotting out the sun and transforming into what seemed like your entire skyline. Bits of dirt and debris fell down, and for a second it was like you were in the collapsing parking garbage all over again.
Even as he did this, Thunder Thighs continued to masturbate.
"Take a shot," he said. "I promise you, no one else in the world has ever seen this."
You didn't doubt it. Fighting the instinct to get up and run as far away as possible, you raised your camera to frame those mountains of soft, white fur, and the slight hint of the pink hole between his enormous cheeks. It was all topped off with two person-sized balls that bounced along with each gentle stroke of his shaft.
And you took the shot.
When the camera flashed, Thunder Thighs smiled. "You’re a pervert, citizen," he huffed, and in an instant, you found yourself pinned beneath a mountain of ass flesh.
If you had been lying on the concrete, the sheer tonnage that came crashing down would have been more than enough to crush you, but here, wedged within the cleft of his two cheeks, your back pressed against his tail, you were almost comfortably cushioned. Your camera hung at your side, pressed into the plush cat rump.
Your erection was back in full force as you were gently squeezed on all sides. You had expected some kind of smell, but the only aroma was one of faint sweat.
Everything around you rumbled as you felt yourself being lifted slightly from the ground. Caught between his cheeks, you were carried upward for a few feet before plummeting back down onto his tail. Then, his ass came crashing down on you again, and this time, he started to grind against you.
You could only let out groans as you felt flesh and fur slide all around you, cheek flesh invading your mouth whenever you opened it. Every now and then, he would raise his body off the ground, with you still wedged in the cleft of his cheeks, and then come crashing back down. It was like being picked up by two warm, bus-sized mattresses that grinded against you with a cushy suppleness that should have been impossible.
You started to realize that he was giving you a sort of lap dance. Or, at least, that's how your mind rationalized it. All of his twists and turns started to bring his hole in and out of sight, as you had found yourself deep within the chasm of his crack. Your dick and face were occasionally grinded against it, eliciting a series of rumbling moans from far up above.
Past your terror and now caught within the throes of overpowering arousal, you did what you could to please your captor. As he ground against you, you bucked your hips, trying to hump against ass flesh or even offer an ineffectual act of penetration whenever your crotch leveled with the clenching hole that was half the size of your body. He might not have felt that, but you certainly did, and to make up for the difference in size, you ran your tongue against his hole every chance you got before pressing upward and brushing your hands against the sensitive, quivering ring.
He seemed to enjoy that, as his tail was practically pressing you up against his hole now. Your heart racing, sweat pouring from every inch of your body, and erection now shamelessly quaking in the confines of your erotic prison, you took hold of his ring and ground your entire body against it.
Each wiggle within Thunder Thighs' crack seemed to elicit deeper moans and sudden, earthquake-like shakes from overhead.
"Oh f-fuck," you heard his muffled voice mutter. "That's not what I expected you to do..."
You were raised into the air once more as Thunder Thighs lifted his hips off the ground. You were now wedged so deeply that you were completely stuck, so he reached in and pulled you out by hand instead. Soon, you were free from your fleshy prison, instead sprawled out on his palm while sucking down air that wasn’t saturated with his scent.
You were face to face with him once more. Well, entire body to face, as he looked down at your exhausted form and smiled. This was not the professional superhero smile he offered when he was relieved that you were safe, nor was it the bemused grimace of someone who had just caught a Peeping Tom.
This was a smile above half-lidded eyes tinged with lust, something you doubted anyone else had seen from the behemoth feline.
He gently lowered you down, directly on top of his squished-together thighs, which cradled both of his balls and a painfully erect cock. It looked like a volcano more than ready to blow.
Thunder Thighs started to slowly stroke himself as he looked down at you and your own throbbing erection. It was such a strange feeling, watching your hero stroke himself off to you, as you reclined on the downy fur and impossible softness of his thighs. It was like a dream - maybe it was a dream, but if that was true, you really hoped you didn't wake up just yet.
You rose to your feet, trying to stabilize yourself as you practically sank into his thigh flesh. Overwhelmed by your own arousal, you stumbled forward toward the titan’s cock. He stopped masturbating at your approach, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen next. Unable to help yourself, you wrapped your arms around his cock, a full-bodied hug against the monstrous appendage that throbbed with each tug you gave it, your comparatively diminutive manhood humping wildly along its sides.
A low, rumbling moan filled the sky above you, as the pre-slicked appendage, and Thunder Thighs himself, both shuddered with your movements. You couldn’t help yourself, even if you had started out completely terrified, you were now just as aroused as the enormous cat. You planted kisses along the shaft, your tongue sliding over the sweet, pre-slicked flesh.
Then, Thunder Thighs’ hand pressed against your back, pinning you to his shaft.
“I’m sorry,” he panted, “I’m just so… Oh…” He moaned as he pumped your entire body up and down the shaft, your own cock forced to hump his. Thunder Thighs jerked you wildly, your head pressed against his cock as you looked down to see his thighs shaking apocalyptically on the street. The masked giant’s eyes were closed as his breaths hitched. The heat emanating from his crotch made it seem like it was about to explode, just like the pressure in your own made it feel like you were ready to blow.
And blow you did.
Your own seed was lost in the warm and sticky tidal wave of semen that showered down all around you. Thunder Thighs released you, the cat finally panting with the same exhaustion that your abused body had endured throughout the day.
Between your near-death experience, orgasming in the middle of a city street, and being coated in a giant’s cum, you could do little but fall back into the cushioned cradle of Thunder Thighs’ thunder thighs, overwhelmingly exhausted as you continued to soak in the cat’s seed.
A few minutes passed in silence until you felt a strange sensation. Something slick ran over you. As you opened your eyes, you realized that Thunder Thighs had bent over, his tongue grooming you and lapping his cum away.
“That was amazing,” you muttered, though your words were muffled by the giant tongue sliding over you.
When he had finished running his tongue over every inch of your body, you had reverted to a fresh coat of saliva. Better than having to walk around the city covered in cum, you supposed.
“You weren’t so bad yourself… Citizen.”
Picking you up again, he parted his thighs and gently lowered you back to the middle of the city street, next to the tattered remnants of your clothes.
“Lockdown will be ending soon. You’d better get yourself home,” he said, slowly rising to his feet.
“Yeah,” you agreed, bending over to pick up the shredded shirt and jeans, though you were so exhausted you wondered if you’d even make it back. “Thank you for saving me,” you called up. Then, smiling, you added, "And thanks for the… shots. I’m sure this thing can’t actually work anymore, but I can probably salvage the film.”
"Oh, about that..."
Thunder Thighs reached down, and with effortless grace and indomitable force, he plucked the camera from your hand. You gawked, watching as he popped it right into his mouth. There was an audible “gulp” as the thousand dollar piece of equipment plummeted down his gullet.
He started to hum a little tune as he bent over and lowered one of his hands to the ground right next to you. You jumped back a little, watching as his fingers began to dig into the street.
It seemed like he was writing something, but you couldn't begin to guess what. Until he lifted his hand away and you were starting down at ten numbers, each the size of your body.
The behemoth hero stood up again to his full height, leaving you standing just taller than his enormous paws, pristine white fur and pink pads dirtied with debris. You let his enormity sink in once again as you looked up, past his thunder thighs and a still dripping cock barely concealed by his tattered costume, all the way up his chest to his taunting grin.
"You know, you're kind of cute for a pervert, citizen." His left foot paw moved right over you as he used it to tap the number he’d written.
"Call me?" he asked.
Before you could even think to reply, your city's superhero turned away and sauntered off with an uncharacteristic swing in his step. He didn't look back, but the sway of his hips and swish of his tail made it clear that he was well aware that you watched every step he took before he rounded the block and disappeared from sight, the quaking of his monstrous footfalls growing more and more distant.
The next day, newspapers were already reporting on the strange occurrences of the previous monster attack.