It’s pretty insane how D.Va can keep her figure considering the diet she has. Yeah, maybe she works out a lot, but she’s a hardcore gamer and mech pilot. She fixes her mech and games all day. The only work out I’ve ever seen her do is jump around like a money while I’m trying to hit her with my hammer after she bounced out of her mech.

I mean, seriously, if that guy tried plowing me in a shed at the beach, that thing will break. Let’s be real here. Hot summer day at the beach, my 350 pound Dorito’s and Mountain Dew flesh bag covered in sweat and regret is not going to be held up like that from anyone. The shed is gonna be lopsided. Yeah, yeah, the sound of flesh slapping against each other is hot, but not the sound of the guy grunting like he’s taking a stressful dump while I try to mount on top of him.

The sound of flesh slapping together is probably going to be coming from me alone. Fat ass tits that could be milked for soda would be smacking against my chest, reddening my skin. The physical sound of diabetes would be heard with each flab moving about with the motion of this gentleman’s thrusts that fail to go beyond my thighs because of how big they are. I won’t feel anything, but he sure will. He’ll probably reassure himself that he’s inside me, when in reality, he’s just shoving his dick between my sweaty thigh fat.

I’m jealous of D.Va’s figure. Lucky ass fantasy character.