Snow White Pinup | Disney Erotic | 106 pics

She bursts into the dwarfs’ cottage thinking she’s found safety. Wrong. These aren’t the singing, work-song dwarfs. These are seven horny, pint-sized degenerates who’ve been jerking off to faded pinup mags for decades. The second she collapses on their table, panting and flushed, every tiny cock in the room stands at attention like they’re saluting royalty.

“Look what the Queen chased in,” Grumpy mutters, already palming himself through his pants. Snow tries the sweet routine – “Oh thank you, kind sirs” – but Dopey just giggles and yanks her skirt up. No chit-chat. They swarm her like greedy goblins.

One pins her wrists above her head while another buries his face between her thighs, lapping like she’s the sweetest apple pie. She squeals, half protest, half moan, because damn if that scruffy beard doesn’t hit every spot. “We protected you,” Sleepy growls, climbing onto the table. “Now you protect our blue balls.” They don’t ask. They take.

Happy goes first – ironically the roughest. He flips her onto all fours, smacks her pale ass until it glows pink, then slams in deep. Snow’s eyes go wide, mouth forming a perfect “O” as he stretches her tight little pussy. The others circle, stroking, waiting their turn. Doc is clinical about it – “Fascinating how wet she gets when she’s crying” – before shoving his cock down her throat to muffle the sobs. She gags, drools, but her hips keep rocking back like her body’s already signed the consent form her brain forgot to read.

They rotate like a perverted assembly line. Each one leaves her a little messier – cum streaking her thighs, dripping from her chin, pooling between her tits. By the time Bashful finally has his go (he blushes the whole time but fucks like a jackhammer), Snow’s a giggling, trembling wreck, begging for more even as she pretends to fight.

Then comes the apple scene we all pretend isn’t erotic as hell.

The disguised Queen slips in at midnight, wicked smile gleaming. She doesn’t just offer the fruit – she straddles Snow’s lap, grinds against her, and pushes the shiny red apple past those plump lips. “Bite, princess. Let it choke you like their cocks did.” Snow’s eyes flutter, body going limp as the poison hits, but not before the Queen fingers her sloppy, used cunt one last time, laughing as Snow shudders through one final, helpless orgasm.

Glass coffin time. She’s laid out like the sexiest corpse pinup ever – dress hiked, legs parted just enough, nipples poking through sheer fabric, a trail of dried cum still glistening on her inner thigh. The Prince arrives, takes one look at his sleeping beauty turned cum-dump princess, and loses it. No gentle kiss. He climbs right in, rips the gauze aside, and buries himself balls-deep in her slack, welcoming heat. Fucking a limp Snow White while she dreams filthy dreams? Peak taboo.

When the spell breaks mid-thrust and her eyes snap open? She doesn’t scream. She wraps her legs around him, whispers “Harder,” and cums so hard the whole forest hears it.

Fairy tales were never this dirty. Or this fun.