Fish Fetish

Pete owned that bright yellow fish costume like he wore it every weekend for drinks. The second he climbed on top of me the suit made this wet slap sound, head still bobbing. That goofy foam mouth kept staring down while he spread my ass and pushed in slow, one smooth push till his balls slapped skin. He laughed and started pumping, working me open with those quick jabs he likes, like he's trying to fuck his name up inside me. Suits creaked with every thrust and my cheeks clapped raw around him, the tail flap still kicking my thigh. Felt twisted and hot at once—he in that ridiculous fish get-up, wrecking my hole like it owes him money. Neither of us lasted long after that.