Chad's stomach lurched as the Cheetos bag crinkled louder with every twitch of his dick. "Autumn, this… doesn't feel right!" he stammered, his voice pitching high. "I'm not going to get… umm… dick cheese from this… am I?"
"Course not!" Autumn shot him a look, then inspected the Cheetos bag. Upon seeing the Flamin' Hot label, she smiled. "Me favourite, this... Flamin' Hot... just like you."
Chad swallowed hard, trying—and failing—to keep the so-called "fun-sized" bag in place. It kept slipping. His pride refused to acknowledge the truth—it was too damn big for his dick.
No. Absolutely not.
He was extra large… at least for regular condoms.
Without hesitation, Autumn stepped in. She gripped the bag around his dick and twisted—firm, precise, no hesitation. Like she'd done this a thousand times.
Chad wasn't sure what sort of witchcraft she'd just done, but now the bag wasn't moving as much.
Cheetos were the kind of snack a disgusting nerd like Aiden Finn would munch on while grinding away in games like Panty Party. There was a high chance this exact bag had belonged to Aiden Finn… and that was gross AF.
Wait a second, what happened to A.F. anyway? Was he still locked in the storage closet? He couldn't be. He didn't care as long as he didn't come out of the closet and announce it to him.
With a grunt, she yanked him forward, lining him up, and shoved the crinkly, Flamin' Hot mess right inside her. The bag scraped against her skin with a loud crunch, orange dust puffing out like a spicy cloud. Chad's eyes bulged; a mix of shock and that burning sensation creeping up his shaft, he thought, "Bloody hell, it's... like sandpaper and lava had a baby!"
Autumn let out a guttural moan. "Ooooh, what a fuckin' dick…" she gasped, her voice faltering with each movement. "Ain't—mmm—never felt anything this intense before."
He put a bit more energy into his thrusts now, and she moaned even louder. How is she even feeling this? I'm getting nothing from this—no slippery rush of her wetness coating him tip to base. None of that sexy, messy glide that makes your head spin, or that tight, sucking pull that drags you in deeper. Not even a hint of that raw, primal squelch when you hit just right. Just dry, scratchy plastic grinding against him.
Then Autumn unleashed a tigerish roar of a moan, fierce and guttural, ripping through the air like a beast unchained. "Ooooh, fuuuuck—yesss!" Her pussy clenched hard around the mangled Cheetos bag, and a flood of hot, sticky juices gushed out, drenching it. The plastic glistened under the mess.
At least she was enjoying it. He couldn't even tell his dick was inside a woman—it just felt like a plastic bag. Even wearing a sock while humping her would've been better than that. Oh, a sock—now that was an idea. He thought of his love sock, aka his jizz sock, and wondered what it would feel like if one of his Spongebob socks were wrapped around his junk… and penetrating her right now. Surely, it would've felt better than this.
She leaned down, her back against the fieldstone wall, and directed his dick from behind... and said, "doggy me!"
"Dogging and doing doggy? An interesting combo," he thought. (Dogging was slang for sex in public. Keep your mind out of the gutter... it has nothing to do with dawgs, okay dawg?)
He shoved it inside her again from behind, and she screamed, "Wrong hole… fuck!!"
Then, gasping, "Wait… don't stop… it feels good."
The wrong hole—what? He couldn't even tell where his dick was going with this bloody plastic bag wrapped over it.
He continued to shove his Cheetos bag-covered cock into what he assumed was up her butt.
Something Chad hadn't noticed before was an Adidas partnership advert on the back of the Cheetos bag, featuring Lionel Messi… Well… he'd certainly made a mess of Messi. He laughed. "The GOAT!" he thought to himself. He was just glad he hadn't brought up the word 'goat' around Autumn, or she might've tried to involve one somehow.
Autumn let out a deep, shuddering moan, "Ooooh, good Blimey… That feels nice up me arse!" Her voice dripped with delight, rough and thick, as she pushed back against him. "Keep it there, lad… feels proper filthy and good!"
No chance in hell he was busting a nut inside this bag. The Flamin' Hot dust was scorching his dick, a prickly sting that was half-torture, half-numbness, and he was getting zilch from pumping her ass. Zero tingle, no buildup, nada—just a crinkly, cheesy prison choking out any fun. "These things are fuckin' jizz-proof," he thought.
Maybe he should patent this. Perhaps he should wear Cheetos bags in public, wrapped around his junk, just to play it safe—so he didn't end up in some awkward mess when thoughts of his waifu hit him out of nowhere. The heat from the Flamin' Hot Cheetos and the discomfort of the plastic really sucked the life out of his erection. Even now, just thinking of his waifu, there was nothing stirring. Not that it mattered much, since he'd already shot his load ten minutes ago, right in the middle of a muddy path and over Autumn's dress.
Autumn let out a guttural, feral growl, then bellowed, "HUMP ME, LAD! Hump! Hump! HUMP!!" Her voice cracked with raw, desperate hunger, each "hump" punching the air like a barnyard war cry, eyes blazing with unhinged need.
The word "hump" had perked up Humpy's ears, and Chad had heard the doggo barking. "Oh no…" he thought, as he heard it pacing around. But Autumn didn't care one bit—she was lost in it, getting thrust hard in her 'rose', loving every brutal second. Her moans drowned out everything, too caught up in the pounding bliss to notice. Then they heard the doggo growl and make a muffled sound, as if it had something in its mouth.
Then came Humpy's low "Grrrrrr…", a rumbling growl, followed by a muffled "Nomf! Rrrrip! Chomp!" —the sound of jaws clamping down, fabric tearing as the doggo savaged a dress, shredding it with wet "Rrrf! Rrrf!" snarls and the faint snap of threads splitting apart.
Chad noticed this, stopped humping her, looked at Humpy, and said, "The doggo is ripping apart your cosplay dress."
"My what?!" Autumn yelped. "I don't cost or play or have a dress… Oh, my precious pinafore dress! Get here now, Humpy!"
Precious dress—the one she'd dropped on the dirt path near the horse shit? "Okay…" he thought, eyebrow raised.
She stopped the activity and pulled free, and the Cheetos bag that was on Chad's cock was now stuck deep within her butt. She chased after Humpy, the bag lodged up there like a crinkly orange plug, flapping slightly with each frantic step as she hollered, "Oi, you mangy mutt—drop me bloody dress!"
The doggo just bolts, loving the scent of Chad's cum soaked into her dress from earlier too much to let go.
Autumn's figure shrank into the distance, a naked blur chasing her dog across the sprawling field, her shouts fading into wild, echoing curses carried off by the wind.
Chad stood there, dick still dangling, the faint sting of Flamin' Hot dust lingering on his skin. He shrugs, kicking at a pebble with his boot, and mutters to himself, "Might as well go. Not my circus, not my bloody dog." The absurdity of it all quirks his mouth into a half-grin as he turns to trudge off, the distant bark-bark of Humpy punctuating the madness.
If I had stayed any longer, she might have tried to get my erection locked inside her, like how dogs get stuck together during sex when the dick swells and can't pull out easily. I don't know how she'd manage it—maybe with some Pritt Stick glue or something.
He threw on his clothes and froze—there, like a shimmering, ultra-rare loot drop in the game Genshin Impact with a five-star glow, he spotted some Valentine's Day chocolates on the ground.
Jackpot. He scooped the box up, tucking it under his arm, and strode off, popping one into his mouth as he went. The caramel one melted slowly and sweetly across his tongue, rich as hell—"Bloody lush, this," he thought—but it was gumming up his hound teeth, sticking in tacky clumps.
He picked at it with a fingernail, grimacing as the gooey mess clung like a stubborn debuff.