Hipoint Smut

You nearly run across the apartment complex when the front office calls to let you know your package arrived. You’re in and out the door in under five seconds, greeting, thanking, and saying goodbye to the receptionist in one breath as you scoop the box up off the floor. You’re soon back in your two bedroom apartment, pocket knife attacking the shipping tape. Your roommates hear the commotion and step out from the secondary bedroom they all share.
	“Whatcha got, Anon?” Lili, you’re AMD-65, is standing in the doorway.
	“New stock for Sam,” you announce, pulling the High Tower box from the plain cardboard shipper. At the mention of her name, you’re Hi-Point 995ts pops her own head around the corner, jet black hair falling around her face from inside the hood of her pink Hi-Point hoodie. Her hazel eyes widen when she sees the box.
	“For me?” she gasps, pushing past the bunny-eared AK geist.
	You nod, continuing to open the packaging as she hugs you tightly from behind, her generous bust pressing against your back. Your face reddens as she bounces up and down on the floor in excitement, rubbing herself against you. She’s no idea of what she’s doing to you, but she probably wouldn’t care if she did.
	“Shiet, Anon, you gon’ put it on me now?”
	“If you want, yeah.” You stand, stock and parts carried by your left hand and arm.
	“I’m all yours, nigga, just be gentle” she says with a blush, jumping into your right hand, morphing into carbine form midair. Your face reddens moreso at her words and you look to Lili for a response.
	“I’ll keep the others busy,” she chuckles, disappearing back into the bedroom. You hear a chorus of excitement when she asks the others who wants to play Risk. You make a mental note to thank her later for keeping the rest of the girls busy for the next eight hours.
	The next half hour finds you sitting in your own room at the secondhand desk turned workbench. You pour over the instructions multiple times and set assembly videos to replay constantly while you transfer Sam to her new configuration. As you take away pieces from her old stock to replace with new, you notice them turn into articles of clothing as you set them on the floor. Black track shorts, pink hoodie… a black, lacy thong. Your mouth goes dry.
	You finally finish reassembling Sam and work the bolt a few times before shouldering her, pretending to clear your bathroom and closet as you admire the new distribution of weight. You practice changing magazines with a few empties, familiarizing yourself with the new setup. Satisfied, you set her down on your bed. She changes to human form, breathing heavily, face red. The changes to her are obvious.
	Her track shorts and pink Hi-Point hoodie have been replaced with an OD green windbreaker and a pair black track pants, her shoes the same as before. Her hair is still the same length, but as she brushes it out of her face, you notice green hi-lights running throughout it. She moves to a sitting position with her legs folded behind either side as she leans forward, using her hands to support herself.
	“A-Anon… T-That was fun,” she breathes, a grin playing across her face. You watch her chest rise and fall, noticing that her once expansive chest seems to have deflated. She notices you looking.
	“The girls are smaller, you perv,” she giggles, licking her lips. “But I think you’ll appreciate the new… distribution.”
She moves to all fours and slowly turns herself around, laying her head down onto the sheets, rearend in the air. That’s when you notice it. That ass. That holy pair of buns. That thick, juicy posterior, the likes of which you have only ever dreamed of seeing outside of pictures.
And it’s right in front of you, slowly and seductively swaying side to side.
“C’mon, you dumb honkey,” she coos. “Show me what your anaconda likes.”
It’s at this point you notice the tent you’ve pitched in your own gym shorts, like a SCUD missile being made ready for launch. You waste no time in attending to it, however, as her words have you closing the gap between the two of you in a flash. A flurry of fabric and her track pants are on the floor, allowing her to further spread her legs as you admire her new underwear: a pair of pink boyshorts with “juicy” spelled out across her cheeks.
Your hands quickly find their way into the undergarment, squeezing and kneading her voluptuous rear as you kiss along her savory thighs, taking in her scent as you draw closer to your prize. Lusty moans slip from her as you explore her new assets, her body pressing itself back against you.
“Whip it out, fuckin cracka,” she begs. “I wanna feel it.”
You’re happy to oblige, slowly pulling away her boyshorts before planting a kiss upon each exposed cheek. She whines, shaking her ass as you deliberately take your time in removing your own clothing. But you’re merciful, finally unsheathing your bayonet and laying it between her smooth mounds. You grunt in satisfaction as it’s engulfed between her ass, the feeling sending shudders down your body.
“Thaaaat’s it.” She smiles, biting her lip as she looks back at you. “Use that beast and claim your hoe’s ass.”
Before you can respond, she begins to move her cheeks along your shaft, hotdogging you. In no time, you’re leaking precum like a water faucet, adding lube to the situation and speeding up her rhythm. You feel yourself growing close and take matters into your own hands, literally, and grab handfuls of her ass as you begin pumping your girth between her cheeks. She settles her face down onto the sheets, content to let you pound away and eventually whitewash her.
“S-Sam, I’m gonna… “ You grunt, doing your best to hold back, wanting this experience to continue for as long as possible.
“Cover me like a toaster strudel, nigga,” she half giggles, half moans. You give her rear a hearty smack for the shitty joke, but in turn become mesmerized as it jiggles around your cock. A sharp cry of pain and ecstasy escape her as your hand swats her booty. “A-Again,” she begs.
You don’t hold back for the last few moments, eagerly spanking her till she’s red and hoarse from crying out in pleasure. Finally, you bury your rod as deep as possible between her pillows as you release jet after jet of thick jizz across her back. You pull out just in time to shoot a few across her ass, the pearly white contrasting with the redness of her skin. You fall onto your back on the bed beside her, spent. Catching her breath, she crawls on top of you, your hands immediately going to grab her luscious rear despite your seed covering it.
“You done already, fuckboy?” she asks, shit eating grin plastered across her blush red face.
“Not yet, you bootylicious geist.”
You lean up and gently peck her on the lips, eliciting a small chuckle from her as she returns it. The next two hours are then spent “trying out” her new configuration, both of you obviously more than pleased with it.