Goblin House of Mischief - [LeSane & JennyDK]

[JennyDK]

Roleplay between: @JennyDK & @LeSane

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It is a very normal and regular Friday afternoon and in one of the smaller houses in town, a new caretaker has recently been hired to come and look after the building, the grounds and is residents. This person being the young and sexy Molly, whom has been wanting to move her way into and up in the landlord business and general housing industry and this was the first job she has been able to get after a year or so from when she started wanting this. This has led her towards this place which only has a handful of apartments and lies on the outskirts of town. Still, she wants to do the best with this opportunity and thus has sworn to herself to not let anything hinder her.
She has no idea about pretty much all of this is about to change soon, from the very resident of this place.

She finally reaches the place on her motorcycle and after parking she makes her way towards the small office of the landlord who is in today so they can go over the arrangements and other necessary details. The noise from the bike likely have caused any resident to be aware of someone coming as not many comes this way. This leads to getting a lovely and yummy view of the woman who has arrived. She is dressed in a tight biker outfit, but her jacket is not fully closed and thus it is easy to see the 30 tons of fat jiggling tits flesh and its deep, deep cleavage, as well as her huge, wide and lovely ass and thighs. Generally, she is very much well endowed in all of the right places and all of huge and welcoming.

[LeSane]

The air in Rou's apartment is thick with the scent of stale energy drinks, ozone from overworked electronics, and the faint, lingering musk of goblin. It is a cramped sanctuary of chaos, where the only organized thing is the tangle of RGB cables snaking across the floor like neon vines. Rou is perched on the edge of a reinforced gaming chair, his wiry frame practically vibrating with intensity. His long, straight black hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, though a few stray strands cling to the raccoon-mask markings on his green face, dampened by a thin layer of stress-sweat.

His long, spindly fingers dance across the mechanical keyboard with a manic, clicking speed, the sound echoing like a swarm of insects. His muddy brown eyes are wide, pupils blown, reflecting the chaotic flashes of a high-stakes battle on his dual-monitor setup. He is leaning in so far that his nose is nearly touching the screen, his teeth bared in a sharp, jagged grin of anticipation. He's one hit away. One single, frame-perfect strike to secure the victory and the bragging rights for the next month of streaming.

"Almost... just one more... come on, you laggy piece of—" His voice is a raspy, high-pitched grate, punctuated by a sudden, sharp goblin snort of excitement. 'If I clip this, the chat is going to absolutely lose their minds. I can already see the clips trending.'

Then, it happens. A sudden, jarring spike in latency. The screen freezes for a microsecond—a digital hiccup—and in that heartbeat, the enemy’s blade slices through his character’s health bar. The screen flashes a mocking, crimson 'DEFEAT' in bold letters. Rou freezes. His hands hover over the keyboard, trembling. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the whirring of his PC's cooling fans.

"WHAT?! No! No way! That was a frame-drop! That is straight-up robbery!" He lets out a guttural screech, slamming his palms onto the desk with a loud thud that makes his empty cans rattle. He throws his head back, his bulky gaming headset sliding down to rest around his neck as he lets out a string of rapid-fire, slang-heavy curses that would make a sailor do a double take. 'I'm going to report this. I'm going to find this guy's IP and make him regret the day he touched a controller.'

As he begins to frantically type a manifesto of rage into the game's global chat, a distant, mechanical roar cuts through the apartment's oppressive quiet. It is the unmistakable, aggressive growl of a high-cc motorcycle pulling into the parking lot below. The vibration of the engine is low and heavy, rattling the windowpane of the apartment and momentarily distracting Rou from his digital meltdown.

Rou pauses, his long ears twitching violently toward the sound. He narrows his lack luster brown eyes, his irritation shifting from the game to the outside world. He doesn't recognize the bike, and in this complex, new sounds usually mean one of two things: a delivery person with a very large pizza, or someone new arriving to suffer through the neighborhood's madness.

"Who the hell is making that much noise?" he mutters, his voice dropping to a low, suspicious rasp. He slowly pushes himself away from the desk, his oversized grey hoodie swallowing his small frame, the fabric bunching around his waist. He doesn't bother with shoes, his open-toe sandals slapping against the floor as he creeps toward the window to peer out, wondering if the new caretaker has finally arrived—or if it's just another reason to complain to the landlord.

Rou clings to the windowsill, his green fingers digging into the peeling paint as he peers down into the parking lot. The motorcycle's engine gives one final, throaty rumble before cutting out, leaving a ringing silence that is quickly filled by the sound of a kickstand snapping into place. Rou's eyes widen, pupils wide as he catches sight of the rider.

The woman is a vision of excess, wrapped in a tight biker outfit that looks like it's fighting a losing battle against her curves. As she dismounts, the movement causes a rhythmic, heavy jiggle that sends a shockwave straight to Rou's groin. Her jacket is left provocatively open, revealing a sprawling expanse of cleavage—deep, inviting valleys of flesh that seem to defy gravity and fabric alike. Every breath she takes causes those massive, soft mounds to shift and swell, a sight that makes Rou's breath hitch in his throat.

"Holy... fuck," he whispers, his voice a strained, raspy wheeze. He doesn't even blink, his gaze traveling downward. As she turns to head toward the landlord's office, the view shifts to the back. The biker gear is stretched to its absolute limit over a pair of colossal, wide hips and a rear that is nothing short of mountainous. With every confident step she takes, her huge ass and thick thighs oscillate in a mesmerizing, heavy sway, the fabric straining against the sheer volume of her welcoming curves.

'Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Is this a dream? Tell me I'm not dreaming.' The anger from his gaming defeat vanishes instantly, replaced by a sudden, violent surge of lust. He feels a familiar, heavy throb beneath the baggy fabric of his sweatpants, his massive goblin endowment reacting with an immediate, pulsing hardness. The sight of her—so huge, so soft, and so profoundly well-endowed—triggers every primal instinct in his hyper-sexual brain.

He lets out a shaky, high-pitched snort, his tongue darting out to lick his sharp teeth. He watches her walk away, his mind already racing through a dozen different scenarios. He isn't thinking about the landlord or the rental agreements; he's thinking about how that much flesh would feel pressed against him, how those thighs would feel clamping around his waist, and exactly how loud she would moan if he got his hands on her.

"I don't care who she is... I *need* to know where she's staying," he mutters to himself, his voice dropping into a predatory, needy rasp. He pulls back from the window, his chest heaving. He's already forgetting the 'DEFEAT' screen on his monitor; he's just found a much more interesting objective for the day. He glances at his phone, wondering if Fret or Skev are around, because a view like that is too much for one goblin to handle alone.

[JennyDK]

Molly reaches the door to the office, which can be found on the outside of the building and there is a small bell that chimes as she opens and enters. She is five minutes early just to be there in proper time and she was told the Landlord wants things to be done properly and well and in timely fashion, so she may as well seek for a good first impression when it is face to face."Hello. I am miss Forrester, Molly Forrester. I hope I am not interrupting?", she says once inside and in the same room as the elderly man who owns the place and were the one seeking a responsible caretaker. The older man is very delighted to see such a voluptous young lady, so any notion of "old grumpy man" leaves immediately and they have a short, productive conversation with each other and she is given a few folders with instructions, manuals and so on. She leaves shortly after and the bell chimes once more and due to the quietness of this place, that is easily heard by most of the apartments. Once more she steps out, her fat assets just as bouncy and jiggling around like mad.

[LeSane]

 

Skev is still plastered to the door, his forehead practically pressed against the wood, peering through the gap like a starving animal looking at a steak. He doesn't hear the bell chime—or rather, he does, but it's just background noise to the symphony of leather and flesh. He's too busy tracking the movement of her hips. He watches her disappear into the office, his yellow eyes lingering on the way her leather pants cling to her rear, the fabric stretching to its absolute limit with every step.

He stays there, frozen in a state of high-alert horniness. He's not even breathing; he's just observing. His mind is a whirlwind of degenerate calculations. 'How wide are those hips? If I just... dove in... would I even be able to reach the edges? I bet I could just sink right into her. Like a green little pebble in a mountain of cream.' The thought makes his toes curl against the linoleum, and the heavy weight in his overalls pulses with a rhythmic, demanding throb.

Then, the bell chimes again.

Skev practically jolts, his head snapping back toward the office door. He doesn't move from his spot, staying hidden in the shadow of his doorway, but his eyes are wide, pupils blown into huge black voids. As Molly emerges, the visual impact is even stronger than before. The sunlight hits the leather, highlighting the sheer, wobbling mass of her assets as she walks. Every step is a masterpiece of kinetic energy—the way her breasts bounce in a heavy, unconstrained rhythm under that open jacket, and the way her ass jiggles with a violent, mesmerizing fluidity.

He lets out a small, pathetic whine, a sound that is half-sob and half-moan. He's completely captivated by the jiggle. To Skev, it's not just sex; it's an art form. He watches the way her thighs rub, the leather making a soft, rhythmic 'shick, shick, shick'sound that sends a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. 

'Look at it. Just look at it move,' he thinks, his breathing becoming shallow and raspy. 'She's a walking earthquake. I want to be the one causing the shaking. I want to see if I can make those things bounce even harder.'

As she starts to move away from the office and back toward the parking area, Skev finds himself leaning so far out the door that he's nearly falling over. He's not even pretending to be subtle anymore; he's just a green, wiry goblin staring with raw, unadulterated lust at the most voluptuous woman he's ever seen in his life. He can smell the faint, lingering scent of her perfume and the heavy musk of the leather drifting through the air, and it makes his mouth water.

The sheer size of her is intoxicating. He feels tiny, insignificant, and absolutely thrilled about it. The idea of being dwarfed by her, of being swallowed up by those curves, is a fantasy that's currently overriding every other function of his brain. He doesn't care about his comedy set. He doesn't care about the orange puffs on the floor. All he cares about is the fact that this woman now officially living in this building.

He lets out a loud, shaky breath, his hand immediately diving into his overalls to grip the throbbing length of his cock, squeezing it tight as he stares at the closed door.

"Oh, man..." he rasps, a wide, jagged grin splitting his face. "I'm gonna be the best damn neighbor she'll ever had. Now I gotta think of an icebreaker."