I love fat women. You know what they say: If your hunger is to satisfy, you have to grab a lot of meat

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Plot:

In the quiet of January’s breeding season, when the racetracks fall silent and instinct takes full control, Grass Wonder moves through Tracen Academy with a singular focus. The refined, soft-spoken Umamusume is driven less by bloodlines and more by her intense private hunger for soft, plump, “chubby” bodies—those rounded midsections, yielding rolls of fat, and full, cushioned figures that make her mouth water and her futanari member stiffen beneath her skirt. The mere sight of such plush softness is enough to override her usual composure, flooding her with the urge to claim, caress, and bury herself in that delicious chubby warmth.

When she finally finds the object of her desire, Grass Wonder wastes no time. She approaches from behind, wraps her arms tightly around the soft form, and immediately begins stroking and lightly pinching the inviting rolls of fat, her voice sweet and confident as she introduces herself and offers to serve as stallion for the season. Every word and every touch is steeped in her open worship of chuby flesh—the way it gives under her fingers, the way it promises comfort and heat, the way it alone can satisfy the deep, specific craving that the breeding season has fully awakened in her.

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