Posts

[search help]

Layout Settings

Blacklisted
(help)
Director
Franchises
Characters
Species
General
Meta

Information

  • Source:
ID
151602
MD5
4588e3fa55b442b9ca0452a555945208
Size
1856x1280 (3.36 MB)
Type
PNG
Status
Active
Rating
Explicit
Score
11
Faves
30 Show

Related

kermit the frog and miss piggy (muppets) directed by gridanon
Viewing sample resized to 66% of original (view original) Loading...
View
Description

They're practicing a new routine for The Muppet Show!

Alts: https://imgbox.com/g/gdkue5Kp1R

Tech Talk

I used NovelAI's unlimited gen membership for $25 a month. Note that "unlimited" is kind of a lie, it's only unlimited if you're under a certain resolution and only if you're not using any of the advanced features. Upscaling and other features cost the on-site currency, which the membership gets you 10000 a month. That should be more than enough for a month, but you can burn through it quickly since NAI gens so quickly.

AI Story - It's Not Easy Being Green

In the glittering underbelly of the Muppet Theater, where the spotlights dimmed and the velvet curtains hung heavy with secrets, Miss Piggy had finally cornered her elusive green paramour. The air was thick with the scent of her signature perfume—a heady mix of lavender and ambition, spiked with the faint, metallic tang of stage lights cooling down after a raucous show. The dressing room was a chaotic shrine to her diva glory: feather boas draped over mirrors like defeated rivals, lipstick stains on champagne flutes, and a king-sized vanity bed that she'd "borrowed" from the props department, now serving as their illicit playground. Pink neon hearts flickered on the walls, casting a rosy glow that made everything feel like a fever dream of forbidden passion.

Kermit the Frog, that ever-reluctant amphibian heartthrob, hopped nervously onto the bed, his slim green limbs trembling not just from the chill of the air-conditioned room but from the sheer force of Piggy's unyielding desire. "Piggy, are you sure about this? I mean, the show's over, but what if Fozzie walks in with another bad joke? Or Gonzo with his chicken cannon?" he stammered, his wide frog eyes darting to the door. But oh, how his body betrayed him—his collar ruffled, his webbed feet curling in anticipation, and down below, his surprisingly virile frog anatomy stirring to life, green and glistening like a dew-kissed lily pad.

Miss Piggy, resplendent in nothing but her pearl necklace that dangled teasingly between her ample, heaving bosom, and those killer red stilettos that clicked like castanets on the wooden floor, tossed her golden curls with a dramatic flair. Her pink skin flushed a deeper rose, her curves jiggling enticingly as she positioned herself on all fours, arching her back like a prima ballerina mid-pirouette. "Oh, Kermie, mon cher, stop your silly frog fretting! Moi has waited far too long for this rainbow connection of ours to finally... connect!" She wiggled her plump, inviting rear, the soft flesh quivering like jelly in a spotlight, sending a ripple through the air that carried the musky aroma of her arousal—sweet and salty, like popcorn mixed with forbidden fruit.

Kermit gulped, his throat bobbing comically as he approached, his small hands—cool and slightly sticky from swamp-born moisture—gripping her wide hips. The touch was electric; her skin was warm velvet under his palms, yielding yet firm, like hugging a cloud stuffed with sass. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, a humid invitation that made his own member throb insistently, growing harder, longer, until it nudged against her slick entrance. "Well, gosh, Piggy... if you insist. But remember, this is just between us frogs and pigs—no tabloid scandals, okay?" His voice cracked with a mix of nerves and excitement, but there was no denying the comedic irony: the straight-laced emcee about to dive into the swamp of sin.

With a theatrical moan that echoed off the walls like a diva's aria gone rogue, Piggy pushed back against him. "Fuck me, Kermie! Yes, right there—make moi scream like the star I am!" Her words were a command wrapped in velvet, her French accent thickening with lust, turning "Kermie" into a sultry purr that vibrated through his bones. Kermit thrust forward, his green shaft sliding into her with a wet, squelching sound that was equal parts erotic and absurd—like plunging into a warm, welcoming bog. The sensation was overwhelming: tight, hot walls clenching around him, pulsing with her heartbeat, milking him with rhythmic squeezes that made his eyes cross in cartoonish delight.

"Oh, ribbit—er, I mean, oh yeah!" Kermit yelped, his hips bucking instinctively, the slap of his smooth frog skin against her plush piggy posterior creating a rhythmic percussion that could rival Animal's drum solo. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure up his spine, his balls—small and green, like unripe grapes—tightening with building ecstasy. The room filled with the symphony of their union: her breathy gasps, high-pitched and operatic; his goofy grunts, interspersed with awkward compliments like, "Golly, Piggy, you're tighter than Scooter's schedule!" The scent intensified—her feminine musk mingling with his earthy, pond-like freshness, creating a bizarre cocktail that was intoxicatingly primal.

Piggy's breasts swayed pendulously beneath her, nipples hard as pearls scraping against the satin sheets, sending sparks of friction that made her toes curl in those red heels. She reached back with one manicured hand, nails painted a fierce crimson, and grabbed his thigh, pulling him deeper. "Harder, Kermie! Pound moi like you mean it—make my pearls rattle!" Her voice was a mix of demand and delight, laced with laughter as she felt him fumble slightly, his webbed feet slipping on the bedspread. The taste of sweat beaded on her upper lip, salty and sweet, as she licked it away, imagining it was the flavor of victory over his hesitations.

Kermit's tongue lolled out involuntarily—long, sticky, and frog-like—brushing against her back, tasting the faint powder of her makeup mixed with the tang of exertion. It was comedic gold: the frog prince turned accidental licker, sending Piggy into giggles that tightened her around him even more. "Hee-hee, Kermie, that tickles! But don't stop—oh, oui, right there!" She bucked wildly, her tail—curly and pink—swishing like a metronome gone mad, brushing against his belly and adding a feathery tease to the overload of sensations.

The intensity built like a Muppet musical number reaching its crescendo. Kermit's thrusts grew frantic, erratic, his slim body slamming into hers with surprising vigor, the bed creaking comically under the strain as if protesting the interspecies romp. Piggy's moans escalated: "Ahhhhhhh! Yyyyyeeeessss!! Fuck me, Kermie—deeper, you slimy stud!" Her inner muscles fluttered, squeezing him in waves that made stars explode behind his eyelids. He could feel every ridge, every velvet fold, hot and slippery, coating him in her juices that dripped down his thighs, warm and viscous like melted butter on a hot griddle.

In a burst of creativity, Piggy flipped her hair dramatically, sending strands whipping across Kermit's face like golden whips—soft yet stinging, adding a playful pain to the pleasure. "Tell moi how much you love it, Kermie! Admit I'm the queen of your swamp!" she demanded, her voice husky, breaking into a laugh as he stuttered, "Y-you're the best, Piggy! Better than banjo pickin' on a lily pad!" The humor fueled their fire; she clenched deliberately, making him gasp, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts—full and bouncy, nipples pebbled under his palms, rolling them like worry stones as she arched higher.

The air grew heavier, saturated with their mingled scents: her floral perfume now undercut by the raw, animalistic odor of sex, his fresh-water essence turning brackish with sweat. Sounds amplified—the wet smack of flesh on flesh, her heels scraping the bed, his ragged breaths puffing like a bellows. Taste lingered on their lips from stolen kisses earlier: hers like strawberries and stardom, his like minty freshness from the swamp. Touch was everywhere: his cool skin contrasting her heat, her softness yielding to his firmness.

As climax neared, Piggy's body tensed, a coil ready to spring. "I'm coming, Kermie—make it spectacular!" she wailed, her voice hitting notes that could shatter glass. Kermit, pushed to the edge, thrust one final, heroic time, feeling her convulse around him in shuddering waves, her cries peaking in a comedic operetta of "Ahhhhhhh!" that echoed like a punchline. He followed suit, spilling into her with a groan that was half-ribbit, half-ecstasy, his release hot and abundant, trickling down in sticky rivulets that made them both laugh breathlessly.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and laughter, the room spinning with post-coital haze. Piggy rolled over, pulling him close, her pearls pressing into his chest. "See, Kermie? That wasn't so bad. Now, about that sequel..." Kermit, flushed and spent, could only chuckle. "One show at a time, Piggy. One show at a time."

But as the neon hearts pulsed on, their adventure was far from over. Piggy's eyes gleamed with mischief, and she whispered, "Encore, mon amour?" Kermit sighed, but his body stirred again—damn that frog resilience. She straddled him this time, her weight pinning him deliciously, her breasts brushing his face as she lowered herself onto his reviving shaft. The sensation was immediate: slick from before, sliding down inch by green inch, enveloping him in her warmth once more. "Oh, Piggy, you're insatiable!" he protested weakly, but his hands roamed her curves, squeezing her ass with newfound boldness.

She rode him like a rodeo queen, hips grinding in circles that made wet, slurping sounds, her clit rubbing against his base with each gyration. The friction built fireworks—sparks of pleasure shooting through her, making her snort-laugh in piggy delight. "Faster? Slower? Tell moi what you want, frog boy!" Dialogue flew as she bounced, her hair flying wildly, slapping his cheeks like affectionate reprimands. Kermit thrust up to meet her, the bed now groaning like Statler and Waldorf in complaint. "Just like that—gosh, you're a natural disaster!" he quipped, tasting her skin as he nipped at her shoulder, salty and divine.

Senses overloaded anew: the sight of her jiggling form, voluptuous and unapologetic; the sound of her ecstatic French curses mixed with moans; the touch of her thighs clamping his sides; the smell of their renewed passion, thicker now, like a steam room in a burlesque house; the taste of her kiss as she leaned down, lips crashing in a sloppy, tongue-twisting frenzy.

Piggy's second orgasm hit like a karate chop—sudden, powerful, her body seizing as she cried, "Yyyyyeeeessss!! Again!" Kermit, caught in the vice, erupted once more, filling her with frog essence that overflowed comically, pooling on the sheets. They panted, giggled, the comedy of their coupling as intoxicating as the eros.

Yet Piggy wasn't done. "One more position, Kermie—for the fans!" She flipped him onto his back—wait, no, she was already there. Creativity surged: she pulled him to the edge of the bed, wrapping her legs around his waist as he stood (on tiptoe, comically), plunging into her missionary-style with her heels digging into his back. "Fuck me standing—show moi your frog legs!" The angle was intense, hitting spots that made her eyes roll back, her pearls swinging like pendulums.

Thrust after thrust, the intensity peaked again—dialogue devolving into grunts and gasps, senses blurring into a haze of green and pink bliss. Climax number three crashed over them simultaneously, a shared "Ahhhhhhh!" that shook the mirrors.

Exhausted, they finally sprawled, bodies entwined, the room reeking of sex and success. "Best performance ever," Piggy murmured. Kermit nodded, too spent for words, but his smile said it all. In the world of Muppets, even love was a spectacle—erotic, explicit, and endlessly comedic.

Blacklisted
(help)
  • Comments
    •

    There are no visible comments.