Kiara Star’s life had come to orbit around the bright, buoyant forms of inflatables—she was their devoted satellite, guided by every subtle shift. Her bedroom, living room, even the bathtub: each corner overflowed with vivid colors and playful grins, and she drifted from one to the next as though carried by a warm, private current.

Yet nothing held her fascination like the unicorn—a massive latex marvel, the crown jewel of her collection.

Every morning she pumped it full of air until its seams strained and its belly ballooned tight, the steady rhythm of the pump quickening her breath. Her arms ached, palms tingled, heart racing harder with every stroke as the unicorn grew rounder, firmer, more alive beneath her touch.

By the time it stood fully inflated, glossy and towering over the bed, anticipation already hummed low in her stomach.

That afternoon, Kiara stepped into the room clutching only a bottle of coconut oil, her breath soft, shallow, eager.

The house felt too quiet.

Too still.

Like it was waiting.

She approached the unicorn with reverence usually reserved for something sacred. Her fingertips skimmed along its ridged spine, slow and lingering.

“You’re even more magnificent today,” she whispered.

It answered with a playful squeak.

The sound sh*t straight through her.

Her pulse kicked hard.

Heat bloomed everywhere at once.

She straddled it like mounting a throne, thighs spreading over the wide, slick surface. The latex was cool at first touch, then quickly warmed beneath her skin. Oil shimmered across her palms as she smoothed it over the vinyl, over herself, until everything gleamed.

Leaning back, arching her spine, she let the unicorn cradle her curves—firm, buoyant, unyielding yet giving just enough to make her shiver.

Her movements started slow.

Testing.

A gentle rock of her hips.

A shallow glide forward.

The friction sent sparks up her stomach.

She exhaled softly, lips parting.

Then she rolled again—deeper this time.

Bolder.

Each sway forming a slow, rolling wave that lifted her higher, stole more breath, demanded more from her body. The latex squeaked faintly beneath her, every tiny sound feeding the heat pooling between her thighs.

She pressed her cheek against the unicorn’s head, hugging it close, as if it might listen.

“You’re perfect... you make me feel so good... I need you...”

The words spilled out in breathless fragments.

Her hands wandered instinctively—stroking its inflated flanks, gripping for leverage, fingers sliding over oil-slick skin, over the curves of her own body, mapping every shudder and tremble.

The world narrowed.

Just sensation.

Just pressure.

Just the steady, maddening glide of latex against warmth.

Each movement grew heavier, more desperate, more needy.

The squeaks came faster now, matching the rhythm of her hips. Her breathing broke into gasps, soft moans swallowed by the quiet room. Her thighs tightened, muscles trembling as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, like a spring wound too far.

When release h*t, it crashed through her without mercy.

Her back arched hard, fingers digging into smooth vinyl as waves tore through her, one after another, leaving her shaking and breathless. She clung to the unicorn as if it might float away, riding every aftershock, every fading pulse, not wanting to let the feeling go.

Even when the intensity softened, she kept moving—slow, languid rolls—savoring the last sparks like embers after a blaze.

Finally, spent and glowing, Kiara melted forward against its smooth plastic neck.

Her skin slick. Her heartbeat thunderous.

She laughed softly, delirious and radiant, pressing her lips to its vinyl ear like a secret kiss.

Eyes closing, she let the room dissolve around her.

All that remained was the faint hiss of air, her slowing breath, and the deep, satisfied calm of being exactly where she wanted to be.

Held.

Floating.

Alive.

XOXOXO

Kelli

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