Roommate's Monster Cock Claims Her in the Fitting Room

The lingerie boutique pulsed with Friday evening chaos, racks of silk and lace packed tight under harsh fluorescent lights, the air thick with perfume and the murmur of shoppers. Lena yanked Grom by the wrist through the narrow aisle, her pulse already hammering. At twenty-two she was all soft curves and restless energy, college textbooks abandoned on their shared apartment couch so she could hunt for the perfect tiny black lace set. The one she planned to wear on a date that suddenly felt pointless. Grom, her twenty-four-year-old orc roommate, loomed behind her like a green-skinned wall of muscle, tusks glinting as he grunted complaints under his breath. Six-foot-six of corded arms and broad chest stuffed into a plain black tee that strained across his pecs, jeans riding low on narrow hips. He had that hidden reputation among a few whispered campus stories—something about a cock so thick it ruined girls for ordinary men—but Lena had only ever seen the outline when he walked around their place after showers, towel low, water still beading on green skin.

“Come on, just two minutes,” she hissed, shoving him into the fitting room at the back. The stall was barely big enough for one person, let alone an orc his size. Curtain yanked shut. Mirrors on three walls threw their reflections everywhere: her flushed human face and his massive frame crowding the space. She held up the hanger—sheer black lace bra with cups that would barely contain her full tits, matching thong that was little more than two strings and a triangle of fabric. “I need your brutally honest opinion. Does this make me look like someone worth fucking, or do I look ridiculous?”

Grom’s nostrils flared. The cramped box forced him right up against her. His already-hardening bulge pressed heavy and hot against the small of her back through the denim. Months of secret fantasies crashed over both of them in that second. Lena had touched herself countless nights thinking about those green hands pinning her down, about the rumored ridges and girth splitting her open. Grom had jerked his thick orc cock in the shower picturing her soft pink pussy stretched white around him, her moans bouncing off their thin apartment walls. Neither had said a word. Roommates. Friends. Safe. Until the fitting room walls closed in and his cock twitched hard enough for her to feel every inch of the outline.

She stripped without waiting. Shirt over her head, jeans kicked off, standing in plain cotton panties that were already damp. The lace set went on slow. Bra first—cups lifting and presenting her breasts, nipples dark and stiff against the sheer pattern. Thong next, the string disappearing between her ass cheeks. She turned, presenting herself in the mirrors, heart slamming. “Well?”

Grom’s voice came out rough, low. “Turn again.” His green eyes tracked every jiggle. The bulge in his jeans was unmistakable now, a thick vertical ridge fighting the zipper, the head clearly flared even through fabric. Heat rolled off him. Lena noticed. Of course she noticed. She deliberately stepped back half an inch, grinding the soft curve of her ass against that monstrous outline while she watched his face in the mirror.

“Does it make me look fuckable?” she asked, voice breathy, rolling her hips once, slow and filthy. The pressure of him against her made her cunt clench. Fabric scraped. His cock jumped.