Mejiro McQueen and Ikuno Dictus Fantasizing about their Trainer (Umamusume)

Art by: baobao771100 

Mejiro McQueen lay sprawled on her narrow dorm bed, the late afternoon sun filtering through the thin curtains and turning the cramped room into a humid oven. Sweat beaded on her forehead, trickling down her temple as she fanned herself with a racing magazine, her silk blouse clinging damply to her ribs. The air smelled of their shared body lotion, floral and musky, and the faint tang of exertion from their afternoon training session still hung heavy. Across the room, Ikuno Dictus stretched languidly on her own bed, her tank top riding up to expose the smooth curve of her underarm, glistening with a fresh sheen of perspiration. McQueen's gaze lingered there, her breath catching at the salty allure, her mind drifting unbidden to her Trainer, his strong hands adjusting her form during drills, his voice low and commanding.

Ikuno noticed, her lips curling into a knowing smirk as she propped herself on one elbow, her long legs dangling off the bed. "Hot in here, isn't it, McQueen? Or is it just you thinking about him again?" Her voice was teasing, roughened by the day's heat, and she lifted her arm casually, wiping sweat from her pit with the back of her hand, the motion deliberate. The scent wafted faintly, sharp, intimate, like the edge of desire McQueen couldn't ignore. McQueen's thighs pressed together under her skirt, a flush warming her chest as she imagined Trainer's mouth there instead, tasting Ikuno's skin while commanding them both.

McQueen swallowed, her pulse quickening. "Ikuno... don't say it like that. But yeah. Trainer's hands on me today, god, I can still feel them gripping my hips." Her words came out breathy, vulnerable, and Ikuno was across the room in two strides, her bare feet padding softly on the worn dorm carpet. She loomed over McQueen's bed, her shadow falling across the smaller girl's body, and without a word, she climbed on, straddling McQueen's waist with confident weight. The mattress dipped, springs creaking under them, and Ikuno's knees pinned McQueen's hips in place. Up close, the heat radiating from Ikuno's body was overwhelming, her sweat-slicked skin brushing McQueen's blouse, the fabric sticking where they touched.

"You're soaked already, aren't you?" Ikuno murmured, leaning down until her damp hair curtained their faces. She grabbed McQueen's wrists, guiding them up and over her head, pressing them into the pillow. McQueen arched instinctively, her nipples hardening against the damp silk, aching for friction. Ikuno's free hand trailed up McQueen's side, bunching the blouse higher, exposing her soft belly and the underside of her breasts. The air cooled the sweat there for a moment, but Ikuno's palm followed, warm and possessive, sliding under to cup one breast, thumb circling the nipple with slow pressure. McQueen gasped, the sound wet in her throat, her pussy clenching emptily as she pictured Trainer watching, his cock straining in his pants.

Ikuno shifted forward, her thighs flexing as she planted one knee between McQueen's legs, forcing them apart. "Imagine him here with us," Ikuno whispered, her breath hot against McQueen's ear, carrying the faint mint of her gum mixed with sweat. "Trainer pinning you down like this, making you beg while I lick every inch of you clean." She released McQueen's wrists to lift her own arm, bringing her armpit close, inches from McQueen's face. The skin there was flushed pink, damp with sweat that dripped slowly onto McQueen's collarbone, cool then warm as it spread. McQueen inhaled sharply, the sharp, salty musk flooding her senses, making her mouth water. She turned her head, lips brushing the slick hollow tentatively, tongue darting out to taste. It was bitter-salty, like sea air after a race, and Ikuno groaned low, grinding her hips down harder.

"Good girl," Ikuno praised, her voice husky as she rocked against McQueen's thigh, the friction pulling a damp spot through her shorts. She reached back with one hand, hiking McQueen's skirt up bunch by bunch until it bunched at her waist, exposing her panties,white cotton, darkened at the crotch with arousal. Ikuno's fingers traced the seam, pressing just enough to feel the heat radiating through, the fabric slick and clinging. McQueen whimpered, bucking up, but Ikuno held her down with her weight, fingers slipping under the edge to stroke the swollen lips of her pussy directly. The touch was slippery, McQueen's folds parting easily, her clit throbbing under the pad of Ikuno's thumb.

Ikuno pulled back slightly, shedding her tank top with a quick tug, the fabric peeling away from her skin with a soft, wet sound. Her breasts bounced free, nipples dark and erect, sweat trickling between them. She leaned in again, offering her armpit fully now, rubbing it against McQueen's cheek, smearing the sweat across her lips and nose. McQueen lapped eagerly, tongue flattening against the smooth, hairless skin, savoring the texture, soft yet taut from the day's tension, the taste intensifying as more sweat beaded up. Her own body thrummed, pussy leaking onto Ikuno's fingers, which delved deeper now, two slipping inside with a squelch, curling against her walls.

"You taste like him," McQueen moaned into Ikuno's pit, her words muffled, hips rolling up to meet the thrusts. She imagined her Trainer's scent mixed in, his sweat from training dripping onto her tongue while Ikuno fucked her senseless. Ikuno chuckled darkly, withdrawing her fingers, glistening with McQueen's juices, the scent musky and sweet, and brought them to McQueen's mouth. "Suck. Pretend it's his cock, stretching you while I ride your face." McQueen obeyed, lips sealing around the digits, tongue swirling to clean them, the flavor of her own pussy tangy on her palate.

Ikuno wasn't done. She swung one leg over, repositioning so her feet framed McQueen's face, toes curling against the pillow on either side. Her soles were damp, arches flushed from running, carrying the earthy scent of leather insoles and faint sweat. "Lick them too," Ikuno ordered, pressing one foot forward, the ball against McQueen's lips. McQueen parted them willingly, tongue tracing the curve from heel to toes, the skin slightly gritty with lint, tasting of salt and faint rubber. She sucked on the big toe, hollowing her cheeks, while Ikuno ground her heel into McQueen's cheek, smearing sweat across her skin. All the while, Ikuno's hand worked McQueen's pussy relentlessly, fingers plunging in and out, thumb grinding her clit, the wet sounds filling the room alongside McQueen's muffled moans.

Sweat poured off them now, Ikuno's body glistening as she leaned back, her own shorts pushed aside to rub her pussy against McQueen's thigh. The friction was slick, her folds parting around the muscle, clit dragging with each roll of her hips. "Trainer would love this, watching you worship me, your tongue buried in my feet while I make you cum," Ikuno gasped, her free hand pinching her own nipple, twisting until she hissed. McQueen's world narrowed to sensations: the flex of Ikuno's toes in her mouth, salty and warm; the stretch of fingers inside her, hitting that spot that made her vision blur; the press of Ikuno's sweaty armpit against her neck as she was marked.

Ikuno sped up, her breaths coming ragged, thighs trembling as she chased her peak. She pulled her foot free, replacing it with her armpit again, grinding the slick hollow over McQueen's open mouth while her fingers pistoned faster. McQueen cried out around the intrusion, her body seizing, orgasm crashing through her in waves, pussy clenching hard around Ikuno's hand, juices squirting onto the sheets with a hot gush. The scent of her release mingled with their sweat, sharp and heady. Ikuno followed seconds later, grinding down with a guttural moan, her own cum slicking McQueen's skin, body shuddering as she collapsed forward, their sweat-soaked forms sliding together.

They panted in the humid air, Ikuno's weight a comforting press, but neither pulled away. McQueen nuzzled into her roommate's pit one last time, tongue lapping lazily.

Ikuno lingered there for a long moment, her chest heaving against McQueen's, their sweat mingling in a sticky sheen that cooled slowly in the dorm's stagnant air. The taste of Ikuno's armpit still coated McQueen's tongue, salty residue lingering at the back of her throat, and she licked her lips unconsciously, chasing more. Her pussy throbbed with aftershocks, sensitive walls fluttering around nothing now that Ikuno's fingers had slipped free, leaving her feeling achingly empty. Ikuno shifted her weight, rolling to the side but not off, propping herself on one elbow to survey McQueen's flushed face, the smear of sweat across her cheek like a claim.

"You're not done yet, are you?" Ikuno's voice was low, teasing, laced with the rasp of her own release. She traced a finger through the mess on McQueen's thigh, her own arousal mixed with sweat, and brought it to her lips, sucking it clean with deliberate slowness, eyes locked on McQueen's. The sight made McQueen's clit twitch anew, a fresh trickle of wetness seeping from her folds. Ikuno grinned, feral and hungry, and pushed herself up, knees straddling McQueen's chest now, her shorts tugged fully aside to expose her pussy fully. It was puffy, lips darkened and slick, a drop of cum dangling from her clit before falling onto McQueen's sternum with a warm splat.

"Clean me up. Just like you'd do for Trainer after he fucked me first." Ikuno's command sent a jolt straight to McQueen's core, her mind flooding with the image: Trainer pounding into Ikuno from behind, his grunts filling the room, sweat dripping from his brow onto her back while McQueen waited her turn on her knees. McQueen nodded eagerly, hands rising to grip Ikuno's thighs, fingers sinking into the damp muscle there, feeling the quiver of lingering tension. Ikuno scooted forward, lowering herself inch by inch until her pussy hovered over McQueen's mouth, the heat radiating down like a promise. The scent was intoxicating, musky arousal sharpened by sweat, with an undercurrent of their shared lotion.

McQueen tilted her head up, nose brushing Ikuno's clit first, inhaling deeply before her tongue extended, lapping broad and flat along the slit. The flavor burst across her taste buds: tangy cum, salty sweat from Ikuno's inner thighs, the smooth texture of her folds yielding under the pressure. Ikuno moaned, hips rocking forward to smear herself fully across McQueen's face, coating her chin and cheeks in glistening wetness. "That's it... tongue fuck me like he would. Deeper." Her hands braced against the wall above the bedframe, the wood creaking faintly under her palms, body arching as McQueen obeyed. Tongue spearing inside, McQueen curled it against Ikuno's walls, sucking gently to draw out more of the creamy essence, the wet suction sounds obscene in the quiet room.

Ikuno's feet found purchase on either side of McQueen's head, toes curling into the mattress for leverage, her soles flexing visibly, still damp, arches glistening. One foot slid sideways, pressing against McQueen's ear, the ball grinding lightly into her temple, transferring fresh sweat that trickled down her neck. McQueen reached up with one hand, abandoning Ikuno's thigh to grab the foot, pulling it to her lips mid-lick. She sucked on the heel while her tongue plunged deeper into Ikuno's pussy, alternating between the two, salty skin and creamy folds, the contrast making her own hips hump the air desperately. Her free hand snaked down, fingers finding her clit, rubbing circles through the soaked panties still tangled at her hips.

"Yes, imagine Trainer grabbing your hair, forcing your face right here while he takes my ass," Ikuno gasped, grinding down harder, her clit bumping McQueen's nose with each thrust. Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripping onto McQueen's forehead, cool trails mixing with the slick on her skin. The room smelled thicker now, a heady cocktail of pussy, sweat, and the faint rubbery tang from Ikuno's feet. McQueen's fingers sped up on her own clit, dipping inside briefly to feel the renewed slickness, her moans vibrating into Ikuno's core.

Ikuno wasn't content to just ride. She lifted her other arm, bringing her armpit back into play, rubbing it against her own breast first, smearing sweat across her nipple, before leaning down awkwardly to press it toward McQueen's free hand. "Touch it. Lick if you can reach." McQueen stretched, fingers kneading the damp hollow, thumb tracing the slick crease while her mouth stayed buried in Ikuno's pussy. She craned her neck, tongue flicking out to lap at the pit when Ikuno angled closer, tasting the fresh sweat mingled with the faint floral soap clinging underneath. Ikuno shuddered, her rhythm faltering as pleasure built again, thighs clamping around McQueen's head, muffling her world to slick flesh and heavy breaths.

The pressure built relentlessly. Ikuno's hips stuttered, then slammed down, flooding McQueen's mouth with a fresh gush of cum, hot and viscous, sliding down her throat as she swallowed greedily. McQueen's own orgasm ripped through her seconds later, fingers buried knuckle-deep in her pussy, walls pulsing around them while her tongue lapped Ikuno clean. Ikuno collapsed forward, bracing on her forearms, their bodies a tangled, sweat-drenched heap, breaths syncing in ragged harmony. McQueen's face was a mess, glistening with Ikuno's release, sweat-streaked cheeks pressed against a damp thigh, but she smiled hazily, nuzzling in, already craving the next fantasy of their trainer joining them. Ikuno chuckled breathlessly, fingers carding through McQueen's hair, neither ready to move from the humid cocoon of their dorm bed.