Sasha's Secret Feast: A Forbidden Craving Fulfilled Under the Moonlight

The scent of damp earth and pine needles hung heavy in the air, a familiar perfume of the Garrison’s forested training grounds. Sasha Blouse, her normally boisterous demeanor subdued, leaned against the rough bark of a towering oak. The moonlight, a pearly luminescence, dappled through the dense canopy, painting shifting patterns on her flushed cheeks and the curve of her substantial breasts beneath her simple tunic. A low hum of crickets provided a soft counterpoint to the frantic thumping of her own heart. Tonight, the craving was more than just for food; it was a different kind of hunger, one that had been simmering in the quiet corners of her mind for weeks, ever since Corporal Levi had begun to favor her with glances that lingered a fraction too long, smiles that were almost shy, and conversations that veered away from the usual barracks banter and into the realm of shared vulnerability.

She adjusted the collar of her tunic, a nervous gesture. The academy had just concluded its intensive training for the new recruits, and the mess hall had been a riot of relieved shouts and overflowing plates. But Sasha, despite her legendary appetite, had found herself strangely abstemious, her thoughts occupied by a singular, captivating image: Corporal Levi’s intense, sapphire eyes, usually so stern, softening as they met hers across a crowded room. He was a man of few words, a warrior forged in hardship, and to imagine him looking at *her* with anything beyond professional assessment… it was a daring, almost scandalous fantasy.

A twig snapped in the undergrowth. Sasha’s breath hitched, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her (currently sheathed) ODM gear. But then a familiar, low voice cut through the night. “Blouse? Still out here?”

It was him. Levi. He emerged from the shadows with his characteristic silent grace, his lean frame clad in his dark uniform, the moonlight catching the silver threads in his hair. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze sweeping over her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Sasha felt a blush deepen, her own gaze falling to the ground, suddenly fascinated by the intricate patterns of moss on a nearby rock. She was "Potato Girl," a nickname born from her most memorable culinary indiscretions, a girl known for her uninhibited enthusiasm for food and her often-clumsy but well-meaning nature. The idea of the most respected soldier in the Survey Corps, the man who could quell a horde of titans with sheer prowess, being interested in *her* in any romantic or carnal way felt like a delusion.

“Corporal,” she managed, her voice a little breathy. “Just… taking some air. It was a long day.”

Levi took a step closer, the space between them shrinking. The air grew charged, not with the danger of titans, but with a different kind of intensity, a raw, undeniable pull. He smelled of the crisp night air, of the metallic tang of his uniform, and something else, something uniquely his. Sasha’s senses, always so attuned to the subtlest of aromas, were on high alert. She could feel the heat radiating from him, a palpable aura that belied his calm exterior.

“You seemed… distracted at supper,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was feather-light, yet it sent a tremor through Sasha’s entire body. Her large, expressive brown eyes widened, looking up at him, searching for an explanation for the sudden wildfire igniting in her veins. His proximity was intoxicating. She noticed the sharp, defined lines of his jaw, the faint stubble that hinted at his tireless dedication, and the surprisingly gentle curve of his lips. He wasn't looking at her like a subordinate, or even a comrade. He was looking at her with a nascent, hesitant desire that mirrored her own.

“I… I was,” Sasha admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She couldn’t help but notice how the moonlight highlighted the generous swell of her bosom, a fact that usually didn't trouble her, but now, under his direct gaze, felt acutely… prominent. The loose fabric of her tunic seemed to cling to her curves, a subtle testament to her womanly form. She wondered if he noticed. Of course, he noticed. Corporal Levi noticed everything.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes still locked on hers. “Is there something you crave, Blouse?” he asked, the question loaded with a double meaning that sent a shiver down her spine. The "potato girl" in her understood the literal question, but the burgeoning woman within, the one who felt an overwhelming attraction to this enigmatic soldier, heard a different, far more thrilling proposition.

Sasha swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Maybe,” she breathed, her gaze drifting to his mouth. The dark, disciplined set of it seemed to promise a release she'd only dared to dream of. She imagined his lips against hers, the rough texture of his stubble against her skin. The thought was so potent, so immediate, that she instinctively leaned forward, her own hunger for him eclipsing any rational thought. Her large breasts pressed against the front of her tunic, the movement drawing his attention. She saw his gaze momentarily flicker downwards, a subtle darkening of his pupils before he quickly met her eyes again, a faint flush rising on his own pale skin.

“And what is it you crave?” he repeated, his voice even lower now, a husky rumble that vibrated through the silent night. He closed the remaining distance between them, his hand moving from her cheek to gently cup her jaw, his thumb stroking the soft skin. Sasha’s breath hitched again. This was real. This was happening. The esteemed, terrifying, beautiful Corporal Levi was standing here, wanting her.

“You,” she confessed, the word tumbling out in a rush of pure, unadulterated honesty. “I crave… you, Corporal.” The admission hung in the air, a fragile butterfly about to take flight. The boldness of it startled even herself, but the intensity of his gaze, the undeniable heat in his touch, emboldened her further. Her large breasts heaved with each rapid inhale, the fabric of her tunic stretched taut across their fullness, a clear invitation. She knew her figure was more developed than many of the other women, a fact that sometimes made her self-conscious in the rough and tumble world of the Survey Corps, but now, in this moment, she felt a surge of pride. This was a part of her that he seemed to be seeing, and it was igniting something powerful between them.

Levi’s expression softened, a slow, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips. It was a rare sight, a precious thing, and it sent a wave of exhilaration through Sasha. He brought his other hand up, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her collarbone before drifting lower, to the curve of her shoulder. His touch was deliberate, possessive, and utterly intoxicating. Sasha shivered, leaning into his touch, her head tilting back slightly, offering him better access to her neck. The desire was a physical ache now, a deep thrumming in her core. She was a woman, and he was making her feel like one, a woman who was desired, who was *wanted* by this extraordinary man.

“Sasha,” he murmured, using her given name for the first time, and the intimacy of it made her knees weak. “You have no idea how long I have… observed you.” His gaze swept over her again, lingering for a moment on the generous contours of her chest. “Your… spirit. Your… hunger. It’s a fire that draws me in.”

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her throat, just below her earlobe. Sasha gasped, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath his uniform. The night air, so cool moments ago, felt electric. His kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration, but then it deepened, a slow, languid exploration that spoke of restraint and longing. Sasha responded with an eagerness that surprised her, her lips parting to welcome him, her tongue tentatively meeting his. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of strength and a surprising sweetness.

His hands moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the outline of her body. He cupped her breasts through the fabric of her tunic, his thumbs brushing against the hard nubs of her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her. Sasha moaned, arching into him, the sensation almost overwhelming. The sheer volume of her breasts, something she was accustomed to, felt amplified under his appreciative touch. She felt a surge of confidence, a womanly pride in her own abundance, as his hands explored their fullness. He seemed to revel in their softness, their weight, his touch both reverent and possessive.

“So soft,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with desire. “So… full.”

Sasha’s mind swam. The world outside this small clearing, the threats of titans, the burdens of the Survey Corps, all faded into insignificance. There was only him, his touch, his kiss, and the burgeoning, unstoppable wave of arousal that consumed her. She felt a desperate need for more, a yearning that went beyond the playful, impulsive desires that usually characterized her. This was a profound, consuming need, a hunger for connection, for intimacy, for the release that only he could provide.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers. His breathing was heavy, ragged. “This is… unexpected,” he admitted, a wry twist to his lips. “But not unwelcome.”

Sasha’s hands, emboldened by his reaction, reached up to unbutton his uniform, her fingers fumbling slightly with the unfamiliar fastenings. She needed to feel his skin against hers, to taste him more fully, to bury herself in his embrace. As the buttons yielded, revealing the taut expanse of his chest, she gasped. His body was lean and powerful, a testament to years of relentless training. She ran her hands over his skin, marveling at the smooth, cool texture. Her gaze, however, was drawn to the impressive length and thickness that was already pressing against his breeches, a blatant testament to his arousal.

Levi watched her, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her blush anew. He unbuttoned her tunic with practiced ease, his fingers brushing against her skin as the fabric parted. The moonlight spilled across her chest, illuminating the generous curves of her breasts, their tips already taut and aching. He looked at them, his gaze filled with a raw, unadulterated appreciation that made Sasha feel exquisitely beautiful. He lowered his head, his lips finding the swell of her breast, his tongue tracing the delicate veins before capturing a nipple in his mouth. Sasha cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched her back, her hips thrusting forward instinctively. The sensation was exquisite, a sharp, sweet ache that radiated through her entire body.

“More,” she panted, her voice hoarse. “Corporal… Levi… please.”

He moved to her other breast, his ministrations just as thorough, just as devastatingly effective. Sasha felt herself teetering on the brink of something profound. Her large breasts, so often a source of comfort and nourishment, were now a focal point of pleasure, their weight and fullness a thrilling sensation as he lavished attention upon them. She loved the way his mouth felt, the gentle tug, the warm, wet exploration. It was a feast for her senses, a culinary delight of a different kind.

His hands moved lower, tracing the curve of her waist, dipping beneath the hem of her tunic. His fingers found the soft skin of her belly, then traveled lower, towards the juncture of her thighs. Sasha’s breath caught in her throat. She was wearing simple undergarments, functional and discreet, but now, under his touch, they felt like a tantalizing barrier. He teased the edge of her drawers, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Sasha moaned, her hips instinctively swaying, seeking his touch.

“So eager, Sasha,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Such a voracious hunger.”

He knelt before her, his eyes meeting hers as his hands worked their magic. He pushed aside the fabric of her drawers, his fingers sliding into the wet heat that pooled between her legs. Sasha gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. His touch was expert, knowing, igniting a firestorm within her that threatened to consume her. He explored her with a gentle but firm pressure, his thumb teasing her clit, driving her to the precipice of ecstasy. She felt herself vibrating with need, the culmination of weeks of unspoken longing and this sudden, overwhelming intimacy.

“Corporal…” she whispered, her vision blurring with pleasure. “I can’t…”

Levi looked up, his sapphire eyes blazing with a shared intensity. “Just let go, Sasha,” he commanded, his voice a low, resonant whisper that stripped away her inhibitions. “Let me feed you.”

And she did. She surrendered to the exquisite sensations, her body arching off the ground, her cries of pleasure echoing softly through the night. He continued his ministrations, his hands and mouth working in perfect synchronicity, pushing her higher and higher until she could no longer hold on. A powerful orgasm wracked her body, leaving her breathless and trembling, her mind a blissful void. Her large breasts heaved, slick with perspiration, and she clung to him, her whole being singing with a pleasure she had never known.

When the last tremors subsided, Sasha found herself sinking back against the rough bark of the oak, her body heavy with languor. Levi rose to his feet, his gaze still fixed on her. He unbuckled his breeches, and the moonlight revealed the magnificent length and thickness of his cock, a testament to his potent desire. Sasha’s breath hitched again, the primal instinct to consume, to devour, resurfacing in a new, intensely carnal form.

“Now,” he said, his voice rough with need. “My turn to be fed.”

Sasha, still dazed but filled with a bold new confidence, reached out. Her hands, usually clumsy, now moved with deliberate intent. She guided him towards her, her own desire reignited by the sight of him. She knelt before him, her large breasts spilling forward as she embraced his manhood. The sheer size of him was awe-inspiring, and a thrill shot through her at the prospect of taking him inside her. She took him into her mouth, her tongue teasing, her lips encircling him. It was a feast, a forbidden banquet of pure, unadulterated pleasure. She explored every inch of him, savoring the taste, the texture, the power she felt in her hands and mouth. She felt his body tense, his hips thrusting against her face, his groans of pleasure filling the night.

“Sasha… damn it…” he gasped, his hands coming up to cup her head, guiding her in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender. Her large breasts brushed against his thighs as she moved, a constant reminder of the duality of their desires – her hunger to consume, his to be consumed, their shared need for passionate connection.

When he was close to his own climax, he pulled her up, his eyes burning into hers. “My turn,” he rasped, pushing her back against the soft mossy ground. He kicked off his breeches and undergarments, revealing himself fully. Sasha’s breath hitched. He was magnificent, his body lean and powerful, honed by years of fighting. Her gaze immediately fell to his thick, hard cock, throbbing with life and anticipation. Her own wetness seemed to seep through her drawers, a clear invitation.

He entered her slowly, deliberately, his cock sliding into her wet heat with a delicious friction. Sasha cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. The sheer fullness of him was overwhelming, yet incredibly satisfying. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her large breasts pressed against his chest, a comforting warmth against his skin. They moved together, a primal rhythm in the moonlight, their bodies slick with sweat, their gasps and moans filling the quiet forest. He thrust into her with a powerful, driving rhythm, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through her. She felt his muscles tense, his breaths grow ragged as he pushed her towards another peak. Her own desire, still simmering from his earlier ministrations, surged anew. She met his thrusts with an eager abandon, her body aching for the release she knew was coming.

“Levi…” she whispered, her voice raw. “Don’t stop…”

He slammed into her with renewed vigor, his eyes locked on hers, a shared understanding passing between them. Their bodies moved in perfect synchronicity, their climaxes building, intertwining. With a final, guttural groan, Levi surged deep inside her, his body shuddering as he spilled his seed into her. Sasha cried out, her own orgasm crashing over her, a powerful wave that left her breathless and trembling. Her large breasts heaved with each gasp for air, a tangible testament to the passion they had shared.

For a long moment, they lay entwined, their bodies slick and heavy, their hearts pounding in unison. The moonlight continued to filter through the trees, a silent witness to their shared intimacy. Levi, his face buried in her neck, whispered, “Sasha… that was…” He trailed off, the words inadequate to describe the depth of their connection. Sasha, her head resting on his chest, felt a profound sense of peace and fulfillment. The hunger that had driven her, both literal and metaphorical, had been sated in the most exquisite way imaginable. She had found her secret feast, not of potatoes, but of passion, with the one man who had ignited a craving she never knew she possessed. She nuzzled into his skin, savoring the lingering scent of him, the warmth of his body against hers. She was no longer just "Potato Girl"; she was Sasha, a woman who had found a different, more profound kind of satisfaction in the arms of the man who saw her, truly saw her, and desired her for all that she was.