Pursa-kun and Frecce's locker room creampie
by John FCCF Poseyabout 1 hour ago
•long read•hot intensityThe locker room under Sanga Stadium by Kyocera was quiet after the final whistle. Most of the players and staff had already filed out into the humid Kyoto night, leaving only the soft hum of the ventilation and the faint echo of distant cheers still drifting down from the stands. Pursa-kun sat on the long wooden bench, his crimson feathers slightly ruffled from the post-match dancing, purple jersey clinging to the broad, powerful lines of his avian chest. The golden-yellow flame crest across his forehead caught the overhead lights every time he turned his head. His curved cream beak parted in a lazy, satisfied grin.
The door clicked open.
Frecce stepped inside, closing it behind her with a soft push of her golden-brown paw. The pink satin bow between her rounded ears bobbed as she locked the deadbolt. Her royal-purple Sanfrecce jersey sat snug over her full breasts, the EDON logo stretched across the soft curve of her chest. The number 903 on her matching shorts rode high on one thick thigh. Her cream muzzle lifted in a cheeky smile, black nose twitching as she caught his scent—warm feathers, sweat, and something sharper underneath.
“You looked good out there,” she said, voice low and playful. “All that fire. All that energy. Figured you might still have some left.”
Pursa-kun’s large anime-style eyes tracked her as she crossed the room. His cock was already half-hard inside his black athletic shorts, the thick shaft pressing against the fabric. He spread his feathered thighs a little wider.
“Come find out,” he answered.
Frecce didn’t bother with more words. She dropped to her knees between his legs, golden-brown fur soft against the cool tile. Her paws slid up the insides of his thighs, pushing the shorts higher until the waistband stretched over the heavy bulge of his balls. She tugged the fabric down. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed a deeper crimson than his feathers, the head already glistening. Veins traced the length. She wrapped one paw around the base and gave a slow stroke, feeling him thicken fully in her grip.
“Fuck,” he breathed, beak tipping back.
She leaned in and licked a long, wet stripe from the root of his cock all the way to the tip, tongue hot and broad. Then she opened her muzzle and took him in. The soft heat of her mouth closed around the head, tongue swirling under the ridge while she sucked. Inch by inch she sank down, throat relaxing, until her nose pressed into the soft feathers at his base and her cream muzzle was stretched wide around his shaft. She held there, swallowing around him, then pulled back with a wet glide, saliva shining along his cock.
Pursa-kun’s clawed hands settled on the pink bow and the soft fur of her head, not forcing, just holding. Frecce bobbed in a steady rhythm, cheeks hollowing, one paw stroking what her mouth couldn’t take while the other cupped and rolled his heavy balls. The wet sounds of oral sex filled the locker room—soft gags when she pushed herself deeper, the slick slide of her tongue, the quiet, hungry moans she made around his cock. She pulled off just long enough to drag her tongue over his balls, sucking one into her mouth, then the other, before returning to his shaft and taking him to the root again.
He was throbbing against her tongue when she finally released him with a soft pop. A string of saliva connected her lower lip to the head of his cock. She stood, peeling her purple jersey up and off, freeing her full, soft breasts tipped with dark nipples already tight. Her shorts and the simple black panties underneath followed. The light golden-brown fur between her thighs was already damp, the plump lips of her pussy glistening.
Pursa-kun stood, kicked his own clothes aside, and spun her around. He bent her over the bench, one strong arm around her waist, the other guiding the thick head of his cock between her folds. He rubbed the tip up and down her wet slit, coating himself in her slick, then pushed forward in one long, steady thrust.
Frecce’s moan echoed off the lockers as he filled her. Her pussy stretched wide around his cock, hot and tight and dripping. He bottomed out, hips flush against the soft fur of her ass, and held there a moment, letting her feel every thick inch. Then he started to move—deep, rolling strokes that dragged the ridge of his cock over every sensitive spot inside her. The wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room. Her breasts swayed with every thrust. She pushed back to meet him, greedy, the pink bow bouncing.
He reached around and found her clit with two feathered fingers, circling it in tight, firm strokes while he fucked her. Her pussy clenched hard around his cock. She came with a broken cry, walls fluttering and squeezing, more slick pouring down the insides of her thighs and coating his shaft. He didn’t slow. He kept driving into her through the orgasm, chasing his own, the wet slap of his hips against her ass growing louder.
When her legs started to shake he pulled out, turned her, and lifted her easily. Frecce wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her to the wall, pinned her there, and sank back into her pussy in one hard thrust. This angle let him go even deeper. She clung to his shoulders, face buried against the soft crimson feathers of his neck, moaning with every stroke. His cock pistoned in and out of her, shiny with her juices. He fucked her like that until her second orgasm hit, tighter and sharper than the first, her whole body shuddering against him.
Pursa-kun’s rhythm grew ragged. He carried her back to the bench, laid her down on her back, and climbed between her spread thighs. He hooked her knees over his arms, folding her open, and slammed home again. The new position let him watch every inch of his thick cock disappearing into her stretched pussy. He thrust hard and deep, the head of his cock kissing her cervix on every stroke. Frecce’s eyes were glassy, mouth open, tongue out, taking everything he gave her.
“Inside,” she gasped. “Come inside me—fill my pussy—”
He buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural sound. Thick ropes of cum pumped deep into her, flooding her cunt. He kept thrusting through it, shallow and slow, working every drop into her. Creamy white seed began to leak out around his cock, running down over her ass and onto the bench beneath them. When he finally stilled, still buried inside her, more of his creampie welled out with every tiny pulse of her aftershocks.
They stayed locked together for a long minute, breathing hard. Pursa-kun’s beak brushed the soft fur of her cheek. Frecce’s paws stroked down the feathers of his back. Outside, the stadium had gone quiet. Inside the locked locker room, the only sounds were the soft drip of cum onto the wood and the slow, satisfied rise and fall of their chests.
The door clicked open.
Frecce stepped inside, closing it behind her with a soft push of her golden-brown paw. The pink satin bow between her rounded ears bobbed as she locked the deadbolt. Her royal-purple Sanfrecce jersey sat snug over her full breasts, the EDON logo stretched across the soft curve of her chest. The number 903 on her matching shorts rode high on one thick thigh. Her cream muzzle lifted in a cheeky smile, black nose twitching as she caught his scent—warm feathers, sweat, and something sharper underneath.
“You looked good out there,” she said, voice low and playful. “All that fire. All that energy. Figured you might still have some left.”
Pursa-kun’s large anime-style eyes tracked her as she crossed the room. His cock was already half-hard inside his black athletic shorts, the thick shaft pressing against the fabric. He spread his feathered thighs a little wider.
“Come find out,” he answered.
Frecce didn’t bother with more words. She dropped to her knees between his legs, golden-brown fur soft against the cool tile. Her paws slid up the insides of his thighs, pushing the shorts higher until the waistband stretched over the heavy bulge of his balls. She tugged the fabric down. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed a deeper crimson than his feathers, the head already glistening. Veins traced the length. She wrapped one paw around the base and gave a slow stroke, feeling him thicken fully in her grip.
“Fuck,” he breathed, beak tipping back.
She leaned in and licked a long, wet stripe from the root of his cock all the way to the tip, tongue hot and broad. Then she opened her muzzle and took him in. The soft heat of her mouth closed around the head, tongue swirling under the ridge while she sucked. Inch by inch she sank down, throat relaxing, until her nose pressed into the soft feathers at his base and her cream muzzle was stretched wide around his shaft. She held there, swallowing around him, then pulled back with a wet glide, saliva shining along his cock.
Pursa-kun’s clawed hands settled on the pink bow and the soft fur of her head, not forcing, just holding. Frecce bobbed in a steady rhythm, cheeks hollowing, one paw stroking what her mouth couldn’t take while the other cupped and rolled his heavy balls. The wet sounds of oral sex filled the locker room—soft gags when she pushed herself deeper, the slick slide of her tongue, the quiet, hungry moans she made around his cock. She pulled off just long enough to drag her tongue over his balls, sucking one into her mouth, then the other, before returning to his shaft and taking him to the root again.
He was throbbing against her tongue when she finally released him with a soft pop. A string of saliva connected her lower lip to the head of his cock. She stood, peeling her purple jersey up and off, freeing her full, soft breasts tipped with dark nipples already tight. Her shorts and the simple black panties underneath followed. The light golden-brown fur between her thighs was already damp, the plump lips of her pussy glistening.
Pursa-kun stood, kicked his own clothes aside, and spun her around. He bent her over the bench, one strong arm around her waist, the other guiding the thick head of his cock between her folds. He rubbed the tip up and down her wet slit, coating himself in her slick, then pushed forward in one long, steady thrust.
Frecce’s moan echoed off the lockers as he filled her. Her pussy stretched wide around his cock, hot and tight and dripping. He bottomed out, hips flush against the soft fur of her ass, and held there a moment, letting her feel every thick inch. Then he started to move—deep, rolling strokes that dragged the ridge of his cock over every sensitive spot inside her. The wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room. Her breasts swayed with every thrust. She pushed back to meet him, greedy, the pink bow bouncing.
He reached around and found her clit with two feathered fingers, circling it in tight, firm strokes while he fucked her. Her pussy clenched hard around his cock. She came with a broken cry, walls fluttering and squeezing, more slick pouring down the insides of her thighs and coating his shaft. He didn’t slow. He kept driving into her through the orgasm, chasing his own, the wet slap of his hips against her ass growing louder.
When her legs started to shake he pulled out, turned her, and lifted her easily. Frecce wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her to the wall, pinned her there, and sank back into her pussy in one hard thrust. This angle let him go even deeper. She clung to his shoulders, face buried against the soft crimson feathers of his neck, moaning with every stroke. His cock pistoned in and out of her, shiny with her juices. He fucked her like that until her second orgasm hit, tighter and sharper than the first, her whole body shuddering against him.
Pursa-kun’s rhythm grew ragged. He carried her back to the bench, laid her down on her back, and climbed between her spread thighs. He hooked her knees over his arms, folding her open, and slammed home again. The new position let him watch every inch of his thick cock disappearing into her stretched pussy. He thrust hard and deep, the head of his cock kissing her cervix on every stroke. Frecce’s eyes were glassy, mouth open, tongue out, taking everything he gave her.
“Inside,” she gasped. “Come inside me—fill my pussy—”
He buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural sound. Thick ropes of cum pumped deep into her, flooding her cunt. He kept thrusting through it, shallow and slow, working every drop into her. Creamy white seed began to leak out around his cock, running down over her ass and onto the bench beneath them. When he finally stilled, still buried inside her, more of his creampie welled out with every tiny pulse of her aftershocks.
They stayed locked together for a long minute, breathing hard. Pursa-kun’s beak brushed the soft fur of her cheek. Frecce’s paws stroked down the feathers of his back. Outside, the stadium had gone quiet. Inside the locked locker room, the only sounds were the soft drip of cum onto the wood and the slow, satisfied rise and fall of their chests.