Puffy Nipple Femboys Make Love with Baby Oil and Toys

The late light in the apartment had gone the color of warm honey, pooling on the rug and the coffee table where two mugs had gone cold. Octavia, twenty-four, had been pretending to read. Elise, twenty-two, had been pretending not to stare at the way Octavia’s thin tank clung over her chest. They had shared the place for months, and for weeks the air between them had been getting heavier—glances that stuck, fingers that brushed and stayed, jokes that turned breathless halfway through the punchline.

Octavia shut the book. Her nipples had been a problem all afternoon, the way they always were when Elise was near: prominent, soft, that swollen pink that made every brush of fabric feel like a secret. Elise’s were the same. Delicate. Puffy. So sensitive that a careless thumb could undo her. They had compared them once, laughing on the couch, and the laugh had died when Octavia’s knuckle dragged across one and Elise made a sound she couldn’t take back.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Elise said. Her knee bounced, but her eyes didn’t flinch. “The oil. The toys. You and me, not as a someday thing.”

Octavia’s mouth went dry. She set the book aside and looked at her girlfriend properly, at the towel still knotted low on Elise’s hips from the shower, at the faint color already rising across those puffy nipples. “I’ve been thinking about it every night for three weeks. I want you slippery. I want my hands all over those nipples until you can’t sit still. I want the drawer open and both of us greedy. Messy, loud, and right now—if you want it too.”

Elise stood. The towel slipped an inch and she let it. “I want it. I’ve wanted it since you first said baby oil like it was a dare. Clear yes. Right now.”

“Bedroom,” Octavia said, already on her feet. “I’ll warm the bottle. You get the toys.”

They moved like people who had rehearsed this in separate heads and were startled, and thrilled, to find the choreography matched.

The bedroom was already warm. Elise had cracked the window earlier and then thought better of it; the air sat close against the skin. She pulled the drawer open while Octavia ran the bottle under hot water in the bathroom sink, testing it against her wrist the way she tested everything she meant to put on Elise. When she came back, Elise had laid their favorites on the nightstand in a neat, shameless row: two thick vibrating dildos, a pair of curved prostate toys with flared bases, and the slim plugs that buzzed hard enough to make Octavia’s knees unreliable. Lube sat beside them, unnecessary if the oil did its job, present anyway because they liked options.

“Still yes?” Octavia asked, because she wanted to hear it in this room, with the toys in sight.

“Still yes,” Elise said. She dropped the towel. “Pour it on me. Don’t be polite about it.”

Octavia tipped the bottle. Warm baby oil spilled in a glossy ribbon over Elise’s collarbones, split, and ran. It slid between her small breasts and gathered, shining, along the underswell of those puffy nipples before breaking into slow trails down her stomach. Elise shivered so hard her cock twitched against her thigh. Octavia didn’t stop. She poured until Elise’s chest gleamed, until oil dripped from both nipples in fat, lazy drops and pattered onto the sheets. Then she set the bottle aside and put both hands to work.

The oil made everything obscene and easy. Her palms skated. Her thumbs found the swollen areolas and circled, pressing just enough to feel how soft and full they were, how they pushed back, how Elise’s breath broke every time she pinched lightly and let go. “God,” Elise whispered. “They’re so—Octavia, don’t stop, they’re so sensitive like this.”

“I know,” Octavia murmured, and pinched again, rolling the oily peaks between finger and thumb until Elise’s hips jerked. “Look at you. Already trembling and I haven’t even touched your cock.”

Elise grabbed the bottle with slick fingers and paid her back. Oil cascaded over Octavia’s shoulders, hot and excessive, flooding the shallow valley of her chest and coating her own prominent nipples until they shone like wet fruit. Elise’s hands were less patient. She massaged in broad, hungry strokes, then zeroed in, tugging, flicking, squeezing those puffy nipples until Octavia moaned and had to brace a hand on the mattress. Oil ran down Octavia’s stomach, over the lean line of her hips, and dripped from the head of her cock onto the sheets. Neither of them reached for a towel. They wanted the mess.

They kissed like that, chests sliding, nipples dragging through oil with every shift of weight. Every accidental brush made one of them gasp into the other’s mouth. Elise pinched both of Octavia’s nipples at once and held, and Octavia’s thighs shook. Octavia answered by bowing her head and sucking one of Elise’s oil-coated nipples into her mouth, tongue flicking the swollen tip while her fingers worked the other. Elise cried out, high and startled, and clutched Octavia’s hair.

“Toys,” Elise managed. “Please. I’m—if you keep doing that I’m going to come before we even start, and I want all of it.”

Octavia released her with a wet sound and a last soft bite that made Elise whimper. She looked at the nightstand, at the glistening bodies, at the hunger plain on both their faces. “Grab them,” she said. “I want you on your back. I want my mouth on you and a toy in you, and I want the same. We said slippery. Let’s be slippery.”

Elise’s answering smile was wrecked and eager. She snatched the vibrating dildos and the plugs, thumbs already finding the switches, and the low buzz filled the room like a promise.

They arranged themselves on the oil-soaked sheets with clumsy, laughing care that turned serious the moment skin met skin. Elise lay back. Octavia swung a leg over and lowered herself into a slow sixty-nine, her cock hanging heavy and slick above Elise’s mouth, Elise’s cock rising to meet Octavia’s lips. Oil made every inch of them gleam. It pooled in the hollow of Elise’s throat. It ran down the crack of Octavia’s ass and dripped onto Elise’s chest. The sheets were already a dark, shining map under them.

“Ready?” Octavia asked, voice gone rough.

“Put it in me,” Elise said. “Slow. I want to feel all of it.”

Octavia coated a thick vibrating dildo in a fresh pour of baby oil until it shone, then pressed the broad head to Elise’s tight hole. She went slow, the way Elise had asked, watching the rim stretch and flutter and take it. Elise moaned into Octavia’s thigh, the sound vibrating straight through her. Inch by inch the toy sank, oil squelching, until the base sat flush and Octavia thumbed the vibration up. Elise’s whole body jumped. Her cock jerked, smearing oil and a bead of precome across Octavia’s cheek.

“Your turn,” Elise breathed, and reached up with her own toy.

She worked it into Octavia with the same aching patience, one hand spreading her, the other guiding the slick shaft. Octavia dropped her forehead to Elise’s hip and swore when the thickest part pushed past her rim. The buzz kicked on a second later, deep and relentless against her prostate, and her arms nearly gave out. They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing, adjusting, the toys humming inside them while oil dripped and dripped.

Then they started to move.

Octavia rocked her hips in a slow grind, fucking herself shallowly on the toy while she bent and took Elise’s cock into her mouth. Oil and salt and the faint sweetness of the baby oil coated her tongue. She sucked, hollowed her cheeks, and pulled off to mouth at the shaft, then lower, licking the oil from Elise’s balls before surging back up to swallow her again. Elise answered in kind. Her mouth was hotter than the oil. She licked Octavia from base to tip, flicked her tongue under the head, and sucked her down while her free hand found one of Octavia’s puffy nipples and pinched in time with the thrusts.

They traded. Octavia pulled off Elise’s cock and latched onto a nipple instead, sucking the oil-slick peak, flicking it with her tongue until Elise sobbed and pushed the dildo deeper into her own ass with a shaking hand. Elise craned up and caught Octavia’s nipple between her lips, nursing at it, teeth grazing just enough to make Octavia’s cock jump and slap wetly against Elise’s chin. The room filled with the sounds of it: wet mouths, buzzing silicone, the obscene glide of oil, two voices breaking on each other’s names.

“Deeper,” Octavia gasped against Elise’s chest. “Fuck, Elise, thrust it. I can take it.”

Elise planted her heels and drove the vibrating dildo in and out of Octavia’s ass in long, slippery strokes, angling until Octavia shouted and her nipples went even tighter under Elise’s tongue. Octavia did the same for her, one hand working the toy, the other rolling Elise’s neglected nipple between oily fingers, pinching, releasing, pinching again. Elise’s cock leaked steadily onto her own stomach. Octavia’s dripped onto Elise’s tongue whenever she pulled back to breathe.

They could have come like that. Both of them knew it. Octavia felt the tight, bright edge gathering low in her belly, fed by the toy hammering her prostate and Elise’s mouth and the relentless attention on her nipples. She pulled off with a gasp before it crested.

“Switch,” she said. “I want our cocks together. I want to see you.”

They eased the dildos out, both of them whimpering at the loss, and fumbled for the vibrating plugs instead. Smaller, meaner, easier to keep inside while they moved. Octavia poured more oil—too much, gloriously too much—over both plugs and over their cocks until everything ran. She pushed her plug in with a groan, feeling the buzz seat itself right where she needed it. Elise did the same, biting her lip, eyes glassy. Then they knelt facing each other on the ruined sheets, knees spread, and Octavia wrapped a slick hand around both their cocks and pressed them together.

The glide was filthy. Baby oil made their shafts slip and catch and slip again, heads kissing, ridges dragging. Octavia stroked them in one fist, then two, twisting at the top, squeezing them tight so every throb passed from one cock to the other. Elise added her hands. They frotted in the excessive oil, hips rolling, plugs buzzing deep inside both of them, the dual stimulation so intense that Octavia’s vision sparkled at the edges.

“Look at us,” Elise panted. “God, we’re so wet. Your nipples—Octavia, they’re so puffy, I can’t—”

She leaned in and sucked one into her mouth without letting go of their cocks. Octavia cried out and did the same, bending awkwardly, greedily, to flick her tongue over Elise’s oil-coated nipple while her fist kept working them both. They couldn’t quite reach and stroke and suck all at once, so they traded in frantic little bursts: a pinch, a suck, a harder stroke, a grind of hips that drove the plugs deeper. Oil splashed. Their cocks slid together in a hot, shining press. Precome mixed with the baby oil and made the glide even slicker.

“I’m close,” Octavia warned, voice shredded. “Elise, I’m so close, don’t stop, pinch them, fuck—”

Elise pinched both of Octavia’s nipples hard and rolled them, and at the same time ground her own cock up through Octavia’s fist, the plug inside her buzzing mercilessly. “Me too. Come with me. I want it all over us. Please.”

Octavia nodded, beyond words, and tightened her grip. They stroked faster. The plugs throbbed. Nipples were pinched, flicked, sucked whenever a mouth could reach. The pleasure stacked and stacked until there was nowhere left for it to go.

Octavia came first by a heartbeat, a broken shout tearing out of her as her cock pulsed in their joined hands and thick stripes of cum lashed across Elise’s chest, her stomach, the shining swell of one puffy nipple. The sight and the feel of it—hot cum striping oil-slick skin, Octavia shaking apart against her—yanked Elise over the edge. She moaned loud and open, hips jerking, and came in heavy spurts that crossed Octavia’s torso, painted her nipples, dripped down to mingle with the baby oil already running everywhere. They kept stroking through it, shuddering, gasping, cocks twitching together in the mess until the last weak pulses smeared between their fingers and the plugs’ buzz became too much to bear.

Elise fumbled the switches off. The sudden quiet rang. They slumped together, foreheads touching, breathing like they’d run up every stair in the building, cum and oil cooling in glossy streaks across both their chests.

They didn’t rush to clean up. Octavia eased her plug out, then Elise’s, setting both aside with shaking hands, and they collapsed sideways into the wet sheets, limbs tangling because neither of them wanted an inch of space. The aftershocks moved through them in slow waves. Octavia kissed Elise’s mouth, soft now, unhurried, tasting oil and salt and the faint sweetness that had started all of this. Elise kissed back and sighed into it, one hand drifting up to cup Octavia’s breast.

“Still so puffy,” she murmured, and traced a gentle finger through the mix of cum and baby oil, rubbing it in slow circles over Octavia’s nipple. Not to tease. Just to touch. Octavia made a small, wrecked sound and returned the favor, painting the same glossy mess over Elise’s swollen areola with two careful fingers, watching it gleam. They stayed like that while the tremors faded, trading lazy kisses and quieter praise—how good Elise had looked taking the toy, how perfectly Octavia’s hands had fit around both of them, how neither of them had known it could feel that slippery and that safe at the same time.

Octavia pressed her lips to Elise’s temple. Her voice, when it came, was hoarse and fond. “Next time, do you want even more oil, or do you want me to hold you down and make you ask for every drop?”