100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 513: Chapter 512- A Teenage Crush

”Yes,” he said. Against her breast. Calm.

”You—” She was shaking. The full, ’my body is processing several things simultaneously and cannot manage them all’ trembling of a woman who was angry and overwhelmed and aroused and somewhere past both. ”You did that ’without asking’—”

”I wanted to make sure.” He lifted his mouth from her nipple. The milk ran freely down her breast without his mouth to catch it. ”That when the time came, you would be ready fast enough.”

She turned her face toward him.

Her eyes — wet, flushed, the ’I cannot decide which emotion is winning’ expression of Eliantra Westing at the complete end of her capacity for composure — looked at him from three inches away.

”Ready for ’what’—”

”For this.” His hand moved down her belly.

Found the hair between her thighs.

Tugged it. Once. The firm, ’I know this exists and I am acknowledging it’ pull of fingers closing around her pussy hair and drawing it downward — the sharp, ’I did not expect that’ cry it produced from Eliantra’s throat bouncing off the mansion walls.

”HIIEK~!!’ Viktor— what—”

”For me,” he said simply.

His fingers spread over her mound. Rubbed. Slow circles over the swollen, soaked exterior of her cunt — the hairy, well-used lips still sensitive from an hour of being stretched, flinching under his touch with the ’everything is raw and even gentle is too much’ oversensitivity of a pussy that had been thoroughly worked.

”Hnnngh~...” She could not prevent the sound. ”...Viktor, I don’t—I can’t—”

”You remember,” he said, ”the first time you wore that green dress.”

She blinked.

”What?”

”The formal one.” His fingers worked her. Slow. Thorough. ”The fitted one. With the— you wore it to the county reception. You thought it was too tight.”

Her face went a color that had nothing to do with arousal.

”How do you—”

”Because.” His mouth returned to her ear. His cock, between her thighs, had been doing something without announcement — that half-limp weight was no longer half-limp. It pressed forward slowly between her ass cheeks, along the crease, its tip emerging from between her thighs in the front. She felt it before she saw it — the ’something has arrived between my legs and it is large and it is hardening’ awareness of it pushing through, the cock head appearing from the front, thick and flushed and enormous, pressing upward against her mound from below.

She looked down.

His cock head, pushing up from between her thighs, his shaft pinched between them — wide enough to spread her thighs apart from the inside, the flared head pressing against the underside of her soaked cunt lips from below.

”Victor—” she gasped. ”What are you—”

”When I first became a man,” he said, ”in this world—”

His fingers pulled her pussy hair again. Gentle this time. Deliberate.

”—the first person I thought about.”

His cock head pushed upward against her cunt.

”The first person I touched myself thinking about—”

She felt it. His tail. Sliding across her hip from behind — the ’I had forgotten about this’ return of the spade-tipped thing, its slick tip tracing along the outside of her thigh, moving toward her.

A memory surfaced.

The waterfall. The ’darkness’ between her thighs. The thing she had told herself was current.

’The shape of it.’

”—was you,” Viktor said. ”In that dress. Walking through the hall.”

Eliantra’s heart did something it had no business doing.

Her face — already flushed, already wrecked from an evening that had revised everything — went an entirely new red. Her chest tightened. Her cunt, against his cock head pushing from below, got measurably wetter.

”That’s—” Her voice came out small. ”That’s not—you’re lying—”

”I kept it to myself.” His cock pressed up harder from between her thighs. The fat head pushing against her soaked lips from below, her own body producing the slick that eased its movement. She felt herself opening against it without deciding to. ”Nobody tells their first crush they thought about them when they were fifteen.”

”Your first—” She made a sound she hadn’t planned. ”Viktor, I’m— I’m old enough to be your—”

”I know,” he said.

Like it was obvious. Like it had always been obvious and had never been the relevant point.

His cock pushed upward and she felt the head breach her — just the tip, just the ’the first inch of something that her body had already decided to accommodate’ entry of it from below, the fat head pressing past her outer lips, her cunt fluttering against it with the overwhelmed, ’something is entering me from an angle I did not anticipate’ clench of walls that had been worked all evening and were apparently still not done.

”HHnngh~!!’ Viktor— that’s— I’m still— from before—”

”I know,” he said again.

He stood.

The rising was slow and inevitable — his arm crossing her belly, his cock entering as he rose, lifting her with him as he straightened to his full height — Eliantra’s toes dragging the carpet and then leaving it entirely, her body suspended on his cock, his arm the only thing between her and the floor. Her legs dangled. Her thick thighs spread over his, her body impaled on him from below as gravity did what gravity does.

”AAANGHH~!!’ TOO DEEP— VIKTOR— PUT ME DOWN— I CAN’T— MY TIPTOES CAN’T—”

She couldn’t reach the floor.

She was on his cock. Suspended. Her fat, motherhood-built body hanging from his arm and his cock in the moonlit room, her breasts swinging and spraying milk in two directions from the ’my body has no framework for this position’ shock of it, her hands gripping his forearm with the ’I need to hold something or I will die’ desperation of a woman who has run out of ground.

Viktor walked.

Toward the bed.

Each step — the ’I am carrying a woman on my cock across a room’ movement of it, her body shifting with each step, the cock working inside her with every stride, her walls clenching and releasing and producing sounds from her throat that she was not authoring.

”Hhnngh~!! Aahh~!! Vik—tor— every step— it’s moving inside me— put me— ’AAANGHH~!!”

Rihana and Senna watched from the far wall.

Rihana’s mouth was open. Her cunt dripped.

Senna had stopped breathing for several seconds before remembering that was inadvisable.

He threw her.

The bed received Eliantra Westing with the full, generous, ’this mattress has never been used like this’ impact of a thick, well-fucked woman landing on her back — her body bouncing once, her breasts swinging with the momentum, her thighs falling open on the rebound with the boneless ’I have no muscles left that are under my command’ spread of complete exhaustion.

She looked up at him.

Wild. Swollen-eyed. Lips parted. Mascara everywhere. Hair wrecked. Both nipples dark and dripping, the milk running down the sides of her breasts onto the bedding. Her thighs spread across the mattress — the hairy, puffy, soaked pussy between them gaping slightly, flushed red, leaking steadily, and apparently having formed its own opinion about the evening independent of anything she’d decided.

Viktor stood at the foot of the bed.

His cock — fully hard now, the ’I was half-resting and have apparently found a second opinion’ erection of it standing thick and flushed, still slick with everything she’d produced — jutted forward in the moonlight. His tail curled behind him. His hair, black and disheveled from her hands and from the general violence of the last hour, fell across his forehead. His eyes — that warm, ’I see all of this’ purple — caught the moonlight.

He ruffled his hair back.

The gesture again. Fingers dragging backward. The ’I am here and I am unhurried’ confidence of a man who had just carried a woman across a room on his cock and was now taking a moment to appreciate the view.

”Finally,” he said.

Quiet. The ’I have been waiting for this for a long time and I am acknowledging it to myself’ quality of a man releasing a held breath.

”Fucking the body I fell in lustful love thinking about.” He looked at her. All of her. ”In a previous life, before any of this.”