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

Chapter 716: Chapter 715- Entering depth of the Prietess

Viktor lifted her.

The motion was instant. His hands found her body. One arm beneath her shoulders, the other beneath her knees. The princess carry. He stood. The grass, beneath them, was pressed flat. His wings, still retracted, didn’t emerge. His legs, enhanced by the physical ability, carried both of them without effort.

Myra gasped. Her hands, which should have been covering herself, went to her face. The ’if-I-cannot-see-them-they-cannot-see-me’ logic that was childish and desperate and the only thing she could think of. But covering her face left her body exposed.

Her robe, bunched at the waist, was pushed higher by the motion.

Her underboob, the soft lower curve of her breasts, was visible. Her belly, the round, soft belly of a woman who enjoyed her food, was bare. Her skirt, raised, was bunched at her hips. Her panty, displaced, was pulled aside. Her pussy, the hairy, wet, swollen, freshly-orgasmed cunt, was visible. The lips, still parted, leaked. The arousal, thin and clear, ran down her thigh.

He moved. Away from the boy. Toward the stable. The wooden structure, the small building that housed the orphanage’s single horse, sat at the edge of the clearing. The doors, half-open, revealed the interior. Hay. Wood. The horse, a brown mare, stood in its stall. The smell of hay and animal and old wood filled the air.

He carried her inside. Past the horse. Past the stall. To the back wall. The hay, piled high, received her body as he set her down. The stalks, dry and golden, scratched her skin. She didn’t care.

She covered her mouth. Both hands. The ’I-cannot-make-a-sound’ gesture that was essential because the boy was outside. The boy was looking. The boy was searching.

”Wait!” the boy’s voice came through the stable doors. The sound was close. Thirty feet. ”I heard someone was here. Is that... Sister Myra?”

Myra’s eyes, above her hands, found Viktor’s. The ’he-heard-me’ terror. The ’the-children-call-me-Sister-Myra’ reminder of who she was to these children. The woman who taught them prayers. Who healed their scrapes. Who told them stories about the Goddess. The woman who was currently lying in a stable with her tits out and her pussy dripping.

Viktor stood. In front of her. Between her and the door. His body, broad and tall, blocked the view. He looked back at her. The calm expression. The ’nothing-is-wrong’ face.

The boy’s footsteps came closer. The ’patter-patter’ of small feet on wood. The sound of a child searching. Myra’s heart hammered. Her hands, on her mouth, trembled. The ’please-go-away-please-go-away’ prayer that she sent to the Goddess with every fiber of her being.

”Hello?” the boy called. ”Is someone there?”

The footsteps stopped. Paused. The boy, confused, stood outside the stable doors. The ’I-thought-I-heard-something’ hesitation of a child who was not sure.

Then the footsteps retreated. The ’patter-patter’ faded. The boy, giving up, returned to his game. The ball, forgotten, lay in the grass outside.

Myra exhaled. The breath, the held breath, came out in a rush. Her hands, on her mouth, dropped. Her body, which had been rigid with terror, went soft with relief.

Then she looked up.

Viktor was standing over her. His hand, on his waistband, was at his zipper. The sound, the metallic ’zzzzp’ of a zipper being pulled down, was loud in the quiet stable.

His cock emerged.

Twelve inches. The full size. The shaft, thick and veiny, the head dark and swollen, hung free. The pre-cum, thin and clear, dripped from the slit. The length, the girth, the weight of it, was visible in the hay-scented air.

Myra shook her head. The motion was violent. Back and forth. The ’no-no-no’ denial that was both refusal and recognition. She had seen this cock before. In the bathroom. Inside Berenga. The cock that had fucked the commander. The cock that was about to fuck her.

”No,” she whispered. ”It is impossible. I cannot take it. It is too big.”

Her eyes, involuntary, went to the horse. The mare, in its stall, was calm. Unaware. The horse’s anatomy, the equine equipment that hung between its hind legs, was visible. The length, the equine length, was similar. Twelve inches. Maybe eleven. The same ballpark.

But Viktor’s was thicker.

The realization, the ’his-cock-is-the-size-of-a-horse’s-cock’ realization, hit her. The ’he-is-hung-like-a-stallion’ comparison that was both absurd and undeniable. The ’I-cannot-fit-that-inside-me’ certainty that was biological fact.

Viktor followed her gaze. To the horse. To the equine anatomy. Back to his own. The comparison, the ’she-is-looking-at-the-horse’s-cock-and-then-at-mine’ observation, made him laugh.

”Come on,” he said. His hand found her breast. Groped. The milk beaded. ”Aren’t you a mare?”

The word, the ’I-am-calling-you-a-female-horse’ word, was too much. The combination, the ’he-is-comparing-me-to-an-animal’ humiliation and the ’his-cock-is-the-same-size-as-the-animal-next-to-us’ reality, broke something inside her.

”You—!!” she sputtered. The indignation, the ’how-dare-you’ fury, was genuine. ”It is like a horse! You are comparing me to—!!”

He laughed. The sound was warm. Genuine. The ’you-are-adorable-when-you-are-angry’ laugh that made her want to hit him and made her pussy clench simultaneously.

He leaned. His hands found her skirt. The black fabric, already bunched at her waist, was pulled higher. Up. Over her hips. Over her belly. The cloth, gathered, was folded. Bunched. Her body, from the waist down, was exposed. The panty, displaced, was pulled aside. Her pussy, the hairy, wet, swollen cunt, was visible. Her thighs, full and pale, were spread. Her legs, bent at the knees, were apart.

He positioned himself. Between her legs. His cock, twelve inches, the head dark and dripping, pressed against her entrance. The panty, the thin cotton, was nudged aside by the shaft. The fabric cut into her left thigh. The right side was bare.

His cockhead found her opening.

The contact, the ’his-cock-is-touching-my-pussy’ contact, was direct. The head, the thick, crimson, pre-cum-covered head, pressed against the entrance. The lips, swollen and wet, parted around the tip. The flesh yielded. The opening, virgin, stretched.

”No—!!” she cried. Her hands found his chest. Pushed. The force, her force, was nothing. The 100x enhancement meant her push was a breeze against a mountain. ”Please—!! It is too big—!! I cannot—!!”

He pushed.

The head entered. The opening, the virgin entrance, stretched around the girth. The tissue, the elastic flesh, expanded. The pain, the ’something-is-too-big-inside-me’ pain, was sharp. Immediate. Her back arched. Her hands, on his chest, clawed. Drew blood.

”AAAAHH—!!♡!! IT HURTS—!!♡!! PLEASE—!!♡!! STOP—!!♡!!”

He didn’t stop. He pushed deeper. One inch. Two. The canal, wet but tight, gripped. The walls, never penetrated, were being stretched for the first time. The hymen, the thin membrane, was there. The cockhead pressed against it.

He pushed through.

”AAAAAAAAHHH—!!♡♡♡♡♡!!”

The membrane tore. The blood, thin and red, appeared. The fluid, the virgin blood, mixed with the arousal. The pink liquid, the combination of red and clear, covered his cockhead. The sight, the ’she-is-bleeding’ evidence of her lost virginity, was visible on his shaft.

Myra screamed. The pain, the tearing, the ’I-am-no-longer-a-virgin’ reality, was overwhelming. Her hands, which had been pushing, went to her face. Covered her eyes. The tears, the fresh tears, ran through her fingers.

”Goddess—!!” she prayed. The words, the desperate, ’please-help-me’ prayer, came out broken. ”Goddess, forgive me—!! Goddess, please—!! Goddess—!!”

He pushed deeper. Three inches. Four. The canal, blood-slicked and wet, accepted. The walls, stretching, gripped. The friction, the ’she-is-so-tight’ friction, was intense. The tissue, virgin and untested, compressed around his shaft.

Five inches. Six. Seven.

”AAAAHH—!!♡!! IT IS—!!♡!! TOO DEEP—!!♡!! I CAN FEEL IT—!!♡!! IN MY BELLY—!!♡!!”

Eight. Nine. Ten.

”PLEASE—!!♡♡!! STOP—!!♡♡!! YOU ARE—!!♡♡!! DESTROYING—!!♡♡!! ME—!!♡♡♡!!”