“Hey,” Damara said softly, and probably a bit dangerously. That might go without saying; it was Damara, after all.
Tavros swallowed. A little bit shy, a little bit sort of terrified. He shifted back a bit as she approached, his shirt feeling uncomfortably tight across his broad, muscular body, sleeves outlining every curve of his arms as he cautiously waved, flexing a bicep the size of a full-grown watermelon. As she got closer, he couldn't help but stand up straighter, swallowing again, trying his best to suck in his stomach. Yes, it was big and a bit on the pudgy side, but it was almost all muscle, and that didn't do much good for him.
Damara stopped a few feet from him, her shadow cast over him. Big as he was, close as he was to the average maximum height of the male spectrum for trolls, he was tiny compared to Damara. He loomed up from somewhere around the region of her upper thigh, and he could plainly see that it was several times as wide and thick as he was; round, the strong muscles softly defined, the black carapace lightly tinted with rust-tones so bright they looked dark red in the right light.
He looked up, past a belly that was fairly big and solid with muscle, and couldn't see her face at all. He just knew she was smirking down at him intently, he could feel her doing it at him. (That, and it was essentially Damara's default expression when she wasn't enraged.) The problem was, her rumblespheres got in the way. They were massive, the size of troll-issue exercise balls relative to her size, and she was holding herself in such a way that he couldn't possibly see her face. A hint of her long horns, certainly, bit of hair, but nothing of her face.
Damara was gorgeous, and frightening, all at once, beauty and badass-ness blending together to something that was intoxicating and terrifying at the same time. His biomechanical legs tensed, impressively large backside clenching and loosening as bits of his mind couldn't quite decide between staying there or discreetly zipping out of there.
That sweater. The only thing Damara seemed to be wearing was a sweater, if you could call it that, and he wasn't sure what to call it. Heavy knit rust-red fabric, evidently in the style of the nation of Beforus that Damara originally called home. It covered her breasts except for a few inviting outlying regions, the dark skin showing up nicely against the color of her sweater, the lower sections sliding around her waist in a wide band and stopping just short of her upper thighs. There was no back at all, the sides exposed as well, and he could see the massive globes of her backside rising high over her body, wobbling and shifting as she moved and the sweater constrained her figure just enough to give her extra bounce.
Damara carefully lowered herself down, body wobbling invitingly all the while. Tavros gulped, entranced by the display. He'd heard all the terrible stories about Damara, but she'd never done anything to him, never even hinted anything like that. Maybe she was working her way up to it...?
Her rumblespheres lowered as she leaned over enough to look him in the eyes, which was a considerable degree as he was less than half her size. Due to the sheer size of her rumblespheres, they occupied all the space between her body and the ground, actually buoying her up a little bit. They squished up as one thick arm clasped her knee, the other holding a cigarette burning dully between her very large and thick lips. Tavros couldn't help but stare at the dark red shapes, thicker around than his palm, and his eyes darted up to her eyes.
Pure rust, and they were older than they should be. He felt bashfully aware that his own brown eyes still had a hint of childish yellow in them, though it had been years since he'd matured to adulthood.
The cigarette floated away from her, twirling away and the smoke turning into spirals, going over his horns. The cigarette extinguished itself, and without thinking about it Tavros politely took it and placed it into a waste disposal receptacle. Damara blinked and raised an eyebrow. “You are...” she paused, looking for the right sort of words. “Too nice?”
It was a little hesitant, like she wasn't sure she'd thought of the right phrasing. “Um...” Tavros looked at the ground. That was hardly any better, because his view was dominated by rumblespheres bigger around than he was. He instead looked straight up to the sky. He could feel her smirking again. “I guess so?”
“Hmm.” Damara stood a little straighter, still on level with him but adjusting herself so she was just tall enough to remind him how toweringly big and curvaceous she was. Her free hand patted him on the cheek, claws lingering on her skin. Her palm was big enough to cover his face, the edges of her claws light on her claws.
Tavros got the impression that she hadn't been expecting him to do that in particular, he wasn't sure if she liked it or not.
Regardless, her hand was still on him. He'd expected her to basically grab him and disappear with him, and he was still standing where he wanted so... progress? “You,” Damara said finally. “Come with me.”
Tavros tilted his head. “Huh?”
She snorted. “Alternians. Slow.” She moved forward, and Tavros squeaked as her face approached, lips parting. Her rumblespheres got there before the rest of there, the sweater enfolding him and twin spheres completely overtaking his whole body, from head to shoulders he was surrounded in softness. She was so warm, made warmer by the sweater, and it was actually rather comfortable before he realized just how soft and squishy her rumblespheres were, a faint sloshing around him, his arms pinned to his sides by her encroaching body-
Her lips met his face. She was bigger enough than him that her kiss took in his entire face, rust-red lips softly meeting the entire part of his face from chin to just below his horns. The world went dark, went soft, went warm. Soft and passionate, the squishy pressure around the rest of him getting stronger as her arms wrapped around her breasts and pressed in, every inch of him buoyed up by her body.
Her kiss went deeper, ferocious, like if she stopped kissing him right then and there the world would collapse beneath his feet. Her arms squeezed harder, he squeaked into her mouth as the wobbling squishinesss against every inch of him was too much and his bulges uncurled from his nook, soft metal against his pants and inquisitively moving against her breasts. Damara rumbled approvingly, kissing him harder before finally releasing him with a very faint noise that might have been a pop.
As her head moved back, reluctantly but acknowledging that Tavros did need to breathe, their horns tapped together nicely.
Her eyelashes fluttered at him as she stood up straight, Tavros still clutched between her rumblespheres and starting to sink now. “I...” Damara spoke slowly, trying her very hardest to find the right words and make a proper impression and not screw this up. “Wish for you to... hrm. See my hive?” She raised an eyebrow challengingly. “And then... breakfast?”
“I, okay?” Wait, he thought. It was the afternoon. You had breakfast in the morning. He followed this train of thought, extrapolating appropriately...
Damara sighed, but waited patiently.
“...Oh. Oh!” Tavros blinked up at her. “You... okay? Um. Okay!”
Damara smiled and patted his head. Without another word, she marched off back to her hive, Tavros in tow and quite comfortable in her cleavage.
