Peach glove

Dumb luck, or you pulled off a miracle. Pressing your back into the tree, your shoulder blades wrapping tense around the bark, you try your best not to sound pathetic as Peach circles her gloved thumb and forefinger around the base of your flaccid cock. She gently wrings it and out of your pants, slipping the silk and cotton on her fingers down the length of spongy flesh until they hooked under the fat bulb of a head, giving your cock an expectant stretch test. Whatever you felt when you asked for this, hurriedly adding that Peach didn't need to undress, drains away with the blood pumping into your dick.

Princess Peach looks is too curious to pay attention to your pleading face. Her bright eyes are fixed on your swelling cock, her thick lips pucker in amusement and arousal, and she's completely unaware of the way she's leaning into your chest, her breasts and billowing hair idly teasing you while she pumps slowly but energetically. She adds a finger to her grip, then another, eventually holding up just her pinkie daintily while you finally engorge to full size in her palm. She speeds up, amusing herself and giggling from the way the skin just glides up and down. Sometimes she pouts and moans in complaint when she can't squeeze you like she did when you were soft, fights to keep your dick from pointing any way but forward, and puffs out her cheeks at you finally.

"Make it go back to how cute it was before!" she moans, using her full palm now with a finger polishing the tip at each pass.