Fritzle and Emma Rival Mascot Creampie Sex
by John FCCF Poseyabout 1 hour ago
•long read•hot intensityThey were both eighteen, the official club mascots of two bitter Bundesliga rivals, and the only reason they were in the same empty stadium suite after a midweek fixture was a joint sponsor event that had run late. The lights in the private lounge were low. The city outside was quiet. Fritzle, the bright-green alligator in the white-and-red VfB kit, had already pulled off his red cap and tossed it onto a chair. Emma, the soft yellow bee in the black-and-yellow Dortmund shirt, stood by the window with her antennae twitching.
She turned. “You kept staring at me on the pitch.”
“Hard not to,” Fritzle said. His voice was low, rough. “That smile. Those hips under the jersey.”
Emma walked over, close enough that her plush yellow body brushed his green one. “Show me what you were thinking about then.”
He didn’t need more invitation. Fritzle’s hands found her waist, slid under the hem of her oversized yellow shirt, and pushed it up. Emma lifted her arms and let him strip it off. Her soft, round body was warm, the yellow fur fine and dense. Small, firm breasts sat high on her chest, nipples already tight. Fritzle ducked his head and took one into his mouth, tongue circling, sucking. Emma’s fingers dug into the soft scales at the back of his neck.
“Fuck… your mouth is hot,” she breathed.
He switched to the other nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make her jolt, then kissed down the soft curve of her belly. Emma pushed at his jersey. He stripped it off in one motion, green torso bare, the long alligator tail twitching behind him. His cock was already hard, thick and ridged, the head flushed dark green, a bead of precum shining at the tip. Emma’s blue eyes locked on it.
She dropped to her knees on the thick carpet.
Her three-fingered hands wrapped around the shaft. She stroked once, twice, feeling the heat and the slight roughness of his scales under the softer skin of his cock. Then she leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe from the base to the head. Fritzle’s hips jerked.
“Emma—”
She took him into her mouth. Warm, wet, eager. Her tongue worked the underside while she sucked, cheeks hollowing, taking him deeper with every bob of her head. Saliva slicked his cock; the wet sounds filled the quiet suite. Fritzle’s claws rested lightly on her antennae, not forcing, just holding on as she worked him. She pulled off with a soft pop, stroked him with both hands, and looked up.
“You taste good for a Stuttgart lizard.”
“And you’ve got a filthy mouth for a Dortmund bee.”
She grinned, then swallowed him again, deeper this time, until her nose pressed against the soft scales at the base. Fritzle groaned, head tipping back. She sucked hard on the way up, tongue swirling the head, then took him all the way down again. He lasted maybe two more minutes before he pulled her off, cock glistening and throbbing.
“Bed. Now.”
There was a wide daybed against the far wall, covered in club cushions. Fritzle guided her there, stripped the rest of her kit—socks, sneakers, the little black shorts underneath—until Emma was completely bare, yellow fur soft under his hands, her pussy already slick and puffy between her thighs. He spread her legs and buried his snout against her.
Emma’s back arched. Fritzle licked her open with long, deliberate strokes, tongue broad and hot, then focused on her clit, circling, flicking, sucking. Two thick fingers slid into her pussy, curling, stretching her while he ate her out. She was loud—short, needy moans that turned into his name when he added a third finger and fucked them into her steadily.
“I’m gonna come—don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He licked harder, fingers driving deep, and Emma came with a sharp cry, thighs clamping around his head, pussy clenching and pulsing around his fingers. He kept going until she pushed at his shoulders, oversensitive and shaking.
Fritzle climbed up her body. His cock dragged wetly against her inner thigh. Emma hooked a leg around his hip.
“Fuck me,” she said. “Hard. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
He lined up and pushed in.
The stretch made her gasp. His cock was thick, ridged, filling her completely in one long thrust until his hips were flush against hers. Emma’s hands scrambled for purchase on his back. Fritzle stayed deep for a second, breathing hard, then started to move—long, powerful strokes that dragged every ridge along her walls. The wet sound of her pussy taking him filled the room.
He fucked her missionary first, deep and steady, one hand braced by her head, the other gripping her thigh to keep her open. Emma met every thrust, heels digging into his ass. When he angled higher and started hitting the spot that made her see stars, she came again, tighter and longer, crying out against his shoulder.
Fritzle pulled out, flipped her onto her hands and knees, and slammed back in from behind. The new angle made her moan louder. His hands gripped her hips; his tail curled around one of her legs. He fucked her harder now—deeper, faster, the slap of green scales against soft yellow fur sharp in the quiet suite. Emma pushed back onto him, greedy, antennae bouncing with every thrust.
“Harder—use me—”
He did. One hand slid under her to rub her clit in tight circles while he pounded into her pussy. Emma came a third time, voice breaking, walls fluttering and squeezing around his cock. Fritzle’s rhythm stuttered. He buried himself to the hilt, hips locked tight against her ass, and came hard—hot, thick pulses of cum flooding her pussy, overflowing around his cock as he kept grinding deep through every spurt.
They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard. When he finally pulled out, a slow trickle of his creampie slid down her inner thigh. Emma reached back, scooped some onto her fingers, and tasted it, looking over her shoulder at him with a wicked little smile.
“Rival clubs,” she said, voice rough. “But that was not a rivalry.”
Fritzle leaned down and kissed the back of her neck, still half-hard against her ass.
“Next home game,” he murmured. “My place after. We’re doing that again. And I’m finishing in your mouth next time so I can watch you swallow every drop.”
Emma pushed back against him, still dripping his cum.
“Deal. But only if you eat my pussy until I come on your tongue first.”
He laughed, low and satisfied, and rolled them both onto their sides on the daybed, cock already starting to thicken again against the soft curve of her ass.
The suite stayed quiet for a long time after that—just the sound of skin and fur and the wet, filthy noises of two rival mascots who had decided the derby could wait until morning.
She turned. “You kept staring at me on the pitch.”
“Hard not to,” Fritzle said. His voice was low, rough. “That smile. Those hips under the jersey.”
Emma walked over, close enough that her plush yellow body brushed his green one. “Show me what you were thinking about then.”
He didn’t need more invitation. Fritzle’s hands found her waist, slid under the hem of her oversized yellow shirt, and pushed it up. Emma lifted her arms and let him strip it off. Her soft, round body was warm, the yellow fur fine and dense. Small, firm breasts sat high on her chest, nipples already tight. Fritzle ducked his head and took one into his mouth, tongue circling, sucking. Emma’s fingers dug into the soft scales at the back of his neck.
“Fuck… your mouth is hot,” she breathed.
He switched to the other nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make her jolt, then kissed down the soft curve of her belly. Emma pushed at his jersey. He stripped it off in one motion, green torso bare, the long alligator tail twitching behind him. His cock was already hard, thick and ridged, the head flushed dark green, a bead of precum shining at the tip. Emma’s blue eyes locked on it.
She dropped to her knees on the thick carpet.
Her three-fingered hands wrapped around the shaft. She stroked once, twice, feeling the heat and the slight roughness of his scales under the softer skin of his cock. Then she leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe from the base to the head. Fritzle’s hips jerked.
“Emma—”
She took him into her mouth. Warm, wet, eager. Her tongue worked the underside while she sucked, cheeks hollowing, taking him deeper with every bob of her head. Saliva slicked his cock; the wet sounds filled the quiet suite. Fritzle’s claws rested lightly on her antennae, not forcing, just holding on as she worked him. She pulled off with a soft pop, stroked him with both hands, and looked up.
“You taste good for a Stuttgart lizard.”
“And you’ve got a filthy mouth for a Dortmund bee.”
She grinned, then swallowed him again, deeper this time, until her nose pressed against the soft scales at the base. Fritzle groaned, head tipping back. She sucked hard on the way up, tongue swirling the head, then took him all the way down again. He lasted maybe two more minutes before he pulled her off, cock glistening and throbbing.
“Bed. Now.”
There was a wide daybed against the far wall, covered in club cushions. Fritzle guided her there, stripped the rest of her kit—socks, sneakers, the little black shorts underneath—until Emma was completely bare, yellow fur soft under his hands, her pussy already slick and puffy between her thighs. He spread her legs and buried his snout against her.
Emma’s back arched. Fritzle licked her open with long, deliberate strokes, tongue broad and hot, then focused on her clit, circling, flicking, sucking. Two thick fingers slid into her pussy, curling, stretching her while he ate her out. She was loud—short, needy moans that turned into his name when he added a third finger and fucked them into her steadily.
“I’m gonna come—don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He licked harder, fingers driving deep, and Emma came with a sharp cry, thighs clamping around his head, pussy clenching and pulsing around his fingers. He kept going until she pushed at his shoulders, oversensitive and shaking.
Fritzle climbed up her body. His cock dragged wetly against her inner thigh. Emma hooked a leg around his hip.
“Fuck me,” she said. “Hard. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
He lined up and pushed in.
The stretch made her gasp. His cock was thick, ridged, filling her completely in one long thrust until his hips were flush against hers. Emma’s hands scrambled for purchase on his back. Fritzle stayed deep for a second, breathing hard, then started to move—long, powerful strokes that dragged every ridge along her walls. The wet sound of her pussy taking him filled the room.
He fucked her missionary first, deep and steady, one hand braced by her head, the other gripping her thigh to keep her open. Emma met every thrust, heels digging into his ass. When he angled higher and started hitting the spot that made her see stars, she came again, tighter and longer, crying out against his shoulder.
Fritzle pulled out, flipped her onto her hands and knees, and slammed back in from behind. The new angle made her moan louder. His hands gripped her hips; his tail curled around one of her legs. He fucked her harder now—deeper, faster, the slap of green scales against soft yellow fur sharp in the quiet suite. Emma pushed back onto him, greedy, antennae bouncing with every thrust.
“Harder—use me—”
He did. One hand slid under her to rub her clit in tight circles while he pounded into her pussy. Emma came a third time, voice breaking, walls fluttering and squeezing around his cock. Fritzle’s rhythm stuttered. He buried himself to the hilt, hips locked tight against her ass, and came hard—hot, thick pulses of cum flooding her pussy, overflowing around his cock as he kept grinding deep through every spurt.
They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard. When he finally pulled out, a slow trickle of his creampie slid down her inner thigh. Emma reached back, scooped some onto her fingers, and tasted it, looking over her shoulder at him with a wicked little smile.
“Rival clubs,” she said, voice rough. “But that was not a rivalry.”
Fritzle leaned down and kissed the back of her neck, still half-hard against her ass.
“Next home game,” he murmured. “My place after. We’re doing that again. And I’m finishing in your mouth next time so I can watch you swallow every drop.”
Emma pushed back against him, still dripping his cum.
“Deal. But only if you eat my pussy until I come on your tongue first.”
He laughed, low and satisfied, and rolled them both onto their sides on the daybed, cock already starting to thicken again against the soft curve of her ass.
The suite stayed quiet for a long time after that—just the sound of skin and fur and the wet, filthy noises of two rival mascots who had decided the derby could wait until morning.