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She likes that he's big. It's not the thing Moana likes best about him, not by a long-shot, but it definitely isn't something that makes her any less interested.
Maui is so much taller than she is- her head only reaches part of the way up his chest, he has to bend down to see her eye-to-eye. And he's so much broader, arms thicker around than her waist, legs like tree trunks. Bigger than anyone else she's ever met, and in idle moments she wonders if it's because he's a demigod or if it's just him.
His hands can wrap entirely around her waist and it makes her shiver to think about how much power there is in his grasp, the things he could do to her if he wanted.
She lined up their hands once, palm-to-palm. The tips of her fingers didn't quite reach the roots of his; she would have needed three hands side by side to fill out the width of his palm.
Moana likes curling up in his lap. She feels her smallness most acutely when he's surrounding her like that, thick thighs underneath her and solid middle pressed against her and his heavy arms wrapping around her. It makes her feel safe, protected. She can defend herself just fine, especially these days, but it's a nice feeling, to think that she doesn't have to, that he's going to take care of it- of her- himself.
Even his mouth is bigger than hers, his lips and his tongue covering and filling in a way no one else ever has. Not that she has very much to compare it to, just a few fumbling attempts with the boys of the village; Maui kisses her with all the accumulated experience she would expect from someone immortal, stealing her breath and filling her veins with fire.
His size makes him hesitant when he touches her. Him, nervous. It makes her laugh, the idea so absurd- he wouldn't hurt her, couldn't. Not with all the strength in his muscles could he do anything that would injure her, not any kind of real pain.
She has to ask several times, reassure him of her desire and her confidence in his control, before he actually lets her fuck him. She couldn't pretend to be content just kissing forever, not when every time she touches Maui her whole body comes alive, sparking with desire like a lit flame.
Finally he relents, allows her to have her way once again. His cock, when she sees it for the first time, is exactly as larger-than-life as she would have guessed from the rest of him, thick and proud where it juts from his body, swirled with the same patterns that darken the rest of his skin. She doesn't know if it'll fit inside of her but she wants to try, wants to know what it feels like to be joined so deeply with him.
Would he have let her even attempt this, before? When her skin was unmarked, before the Gods let eternity unfurl welcomingly ahead of her? There's no use asking, she knows, but she splays her tattooed hand against the dark marks of his chest and wonders.
He uses his fingers first, even those by themselves big enough for Moana to feel the warm stretch of it, to keen and shake in his lap as he fills her up, sliding in so easily with the wetness of her desire it almost seems like one of his tricks. If she looks down past her naked body she can see where the head of his cock bobs in the air, wet at the tip and swollen, looking for someplace to bury itself. Her fingers graze the hot skin, measuring, assessing, and he groans, the length of his cock pulsing against her touch.
"You're gonna be the death of me," he says, words muffled against the curve of her shoulder.
It makes her smile, rocking back further into his embrace even as her hips hitch and roll restlessly, wanting more of his touch, more of him. "I'm flattered," she tells him, forcing the words out when all she wants to do is whine and call his name pleadingly.
Maui huffs a breath of laughter she can feel against her skin, a quick press of teeth and the soft drag of his lips following. Her fingers tangle in his hair, anchoring herself as his grip shifts, his fingers sliding out of her. She makes a noise at the loss, so empty without his fingers stretching her open, filling her.
She makes louder noises when his cock slides against her folds, rubbing long and slow, huge and hard enough that she maybe admits to feeling some apprehension. Moana wants him with all of her heart, and knows without hesitation that he'd never mean to hurt her- but his demigodly-proportions are somewhat daunting when faced with the reality of it all.
She could call it off at any moment, she knows. Just rubbing against him like this, her throbbing cunt splayed against the shaft of his cock, would be enough for her to find a satisfying climax- and she's sure she could figure out how to make it happen for him, as well.
But Moana has never before given up halfway, not when she's set her mind on something. She shifts in his lap, seeking an angle that might work. He'd suggested it like this, said it might be easier if she was the one more in control, but she wonders if maybe they just won't mesh.
She shuffles forward slightly, hooks an ankle around his massive thigh, gently presses on his cock to guide it into place- and suddenly their bodies align. The head of Maui's cock notches against her opening and both of them stop breathing, her eyes fluttering open to see, wanting to watch him disappear into her body for the first time.
It takes more work than she's expecting, her body slick and opened by his fingers but still not prepared, not really. How can anyone prepare for something like this? Moana rocks her hips and feels the tip of his cock press against her, feels her flesh draw tight and struggle to contain his.
"We don't have to," Maui says, words quiet and somehow soft, as if she can't feel how tense his body is where it surrounds hers, his muscles like tight seaworthy cording under his sweat-damp skin. "We can stop."
And she could stop- but she doesn't want to. It's a stretch, yes. Just the barest tip of him inside of her cunt is more of strain than anything she's felt before. But that doesn't make it a bad thing. Doesn't make her any less aroused, any less determined to fit as much of him inside of her as she can possibly manage.
"Call- calling it quits?" she pants out, moving herself so his cock slides deeper inside her in tiny increments. She's finding space for him she didn't know she had, emptiness she's aware of only now that it's filled. And yet when she looks down, there's so much more of his length left to go.
His hand slides down the front of her body, fingers splaying out against her belly. Can Maui feel himself inside of her, she wonders? She sucks in a deep breath at the thought, feels another bit of his cock slip that much deeper.
His face nuzzles against the side of her head and she tries to turn, to take in his expression or kiss him or maybe just to breathe their mingled breaths, but even that much movement seems like it will disrupt the progress her body is making. He's trembling under her, body rocking in tiny increments like he can't help himself, helping along or just caught up in the sensations.
Moana grabs at one of his arms for leverage but can't get a grip; his arms are too thick with muscle, their skin too slick. He's more than halfway seated in her now and she thinks she might cry from the feeling, so good and somewhat painful, like there's no space inside of her that he isn't filling.
His fingers tangle with hers, enveloping her more slender hand, anchoring her. He moans her name like she really is the death of him, his body quavering around her with the effort of holding himself still.
"Just a, a little more," she groans, feeling the inevitable limits of her body catching up to her. His cock is nearly all the way inside of her, somehow; she feels as if she will catch fire, as if she will split open, as if she'll dissolve into an ocean wave and drag him down to the bottom of her sea.
"Oh," Moana gasps out, dragging their entwined hands down to where his cock disappears inside of her, where she's so full even her own touch is nearly too much.
And then, there is no more she can fit. Maui is filling her completely, swallowed to the root by her yearning cunt, and she tries desperately to catch her choppy breath before it runs completely away from her.
They stay like that, in tense stillness, for a long few beats of her racing heart. Moana moves her hips just a little and shudders at the feeling of his cock rubbing deep inside her, heavy and hot and thick against her taut walls.
"Hang on," Maui says, his voice rough around the edges, strained.
But she can't, now that she knows her body will contain his, now that she knows how much better just that little bit of friction makes everything feel. She rocks against him, drawing herself up just enough to feel him start to slide out, and then eases herself back down, taking him in again.
"Fuck, Moana," Maui groans, "How are you-" He breaks off his words, hand tightening against her skin where he's bracing her. "How are you real?"
She rolls her head back so their faces align, dragging out a lazy smirk as if she isn't almost completely overwhelmed with the actions of their bodies. "Think that's my line," she says in her best attempt at teasing.
With a playful growl he kisses her, using her distraction to bring his hand up above where they're joined, stroking gently along the swollen flesh of her clit. The extra sensation is too much; Moana all but screams as orgasm slams through her, her whole body tensing and shuddering as pleasure like a heavy ocean wave buffets her.
Her nails dig into his skin, blood pounding in her ears. Climax stretches out in a way it never has before, every squeeze of her cunt around the massive, impossible girth of Maui inside of her setting off more sparks of pleasure until she's nearly sobbing with it, wrung out.
When the sharpest peaks level out she feels his breathing harsh against her neck, ragged like he's been running circles around the island instead of just sitting here with her, letting her do all the work.
"Maui," she gasps out, and then more urgently as his hips give a tiny roll upwards against her body, and the reality of being over-stretched and over-full catches up with her. "Maui-" she hisses out a strained breath- "Too much, you gotta pull out."
He obeys instantly, hands cradling her hips to lift her off his cock in one smooth motion that nevertheless has her whining and flinching at the drag of his skin against her suddenly oversensitive walls. "Easy," he tells her, thumb rubbing a soothing circle on her skin where he's holding her, "Easy, I've got you."
Moana collapses back against his chest, grateful for the sturdiness of his body against hers, the way he effortlessly holds her up when she has no strength left in her limbs.
"You good, Curly?" he asks, nose nuzzling against her cheek.
"Just give me a moment," she says. She's still struggling to catch her breath, her heart racing and her body unsure if it wants to protest how much of a challenge she's put it through. But she can feel his cock still hard and throbbing against her legs where she's squeezed her thighs together, squirming with the feeling of how open and wrecked she is, and she wants to make sure that he comes as well.
"Take all the time you need," Maui says, but his voice is edged with something sardonic, "We've got plenty of it to go around, these days."
Laughing helps, even just a weak chuckle assisting her in regaining a sliver of her energy. The thought of letting him near her cunt again so soon, even just having him rub his cock between her thighs, is too daunting- but she can reach down and wrap her hand around him, or at least as much of him as her fingers can fit around.
His skin is slick from being inside her, blood-hot and twitching in her grasp. Moana twists around in his lap to make the angle easier as she strokes him, hardly knowing whether she'd rather look at his face or his cock, eyes dancing between the two so she doesn't miss either.
His hand joins hers, so much larger, actually able to fit around the girth of his cock. His eyes trap her gaze as he comes, moaning her name and staring at her like she put the stars in the sky, the kind of expression that makes what they're doing so much more intimate than just the joining of bodies. She surges forward and kisses him as his cum spills and spurts between them, sticky and hot over their entwined fingers.
He groans and flops down heavily onto his back, tugging her down along with him, making her yelp at the sudden action, splayed out all along his front.
Moana lets him catch his breath, fingers tracing idle patterns over his tattoos, smearing the black marks with white streaks of cum. If she presses her thighs together she gets the most amazing pleasurable sore twinge, which will probably deepen to something actually uncomfortable but for now just makes the accomplishment of fucking him all the sweeter.
"So," she says, "I'm thinking we need to practice this some more. A lot more." She grins at him, wondering at the twists of fate to have brought them together, to have allowed her to be this happy, so much it almost feels like it's leaking out from behind her eyes, a glow rising off her skin.
"That's a training goal I can get behind," Maui agrees. He lifts up her hand, the one covered in her Gods-given tattoos, and presses a kiss to the marked skin over her knuckles. It'll take time for her to get used to using her body like this, time to adapt to the way he can test her limits so completely, but time is something they have in abundance.