"Thank you," he said.
She laughed against his shoulder.
Her enormous boobs shaking with it against his back.
"Sentimental," she said.
"Practical."
He grabbed Soha by the wrist.
Pulled her up from the table — her legs going around his waist automatically, her pussy still full of him, the pregnant belly pressing against his lower abs with the new angle. Her arms found his shoulders, her face in the curve of his neck, her body now held off the ground entirely by his grip and her own clenching thighs.
"Wait — WAIT — I’m going to fall—"
"You won’t."
PAH—
He thrust upward.
Soha’s whole body jolted in the air — her pregnant belly bouncing with the impact, her boobs swinging upward and slapping against his chest, the dark nipples dragging across his pectoral.
"AANGH — HHN — AAANGH~!!"
The succubus moved behind Soha.
Her enormous body positioning itself at Soha’s back — her massive boobs pressing against Soha’s shoulder blades, the enormous soft weight of them enveloping the smaller woman’s back in warmth, her hands finding Soha’s hips from behind.
Her fingers found Soha’s ass cheeks.
Spread them.
Both palms pressing into the flesh and pulling outward, the motion changing the angle of the penetration — the spread opening Soha wider, the cock inside her finding a deeper press with the adjusted position, the head of him pressing against the top wall of her with a force that her body reported with a scream.
"HAAAIYAANGH~!!"
"There," the succubus said softly. Against Soha’s ear. Her lips brushing the shell of it, her blonde hair falling around both of them. "Don’t you like that cock?"
"I—" Soha’s voice was barely a breath. Her eyes half-open, rolling with each thrust, her head lolling back against the succubus’s shoulder. "I don’t — hnn — I—"
PAH— PAH—
"OUNGH~!! — HNNGH~!!"
"Soon," the succubus said, her voice warm and intimate against Soha’s ear while her hands held her ass cheeks spread, "I’m going to take it."
Soha blinked.
"His cock." The succubus’s tail flicked contentedly. "Once I’m full enough from your lust. Once your body has given me enough." Her lips pressed against Soha’s temple. "So be a good girl. Give me what I need."
"You—" Soha’s voice cracked. "You’re using me—"
"We’re all using each other, sweetheart." The succubus’s hands on her ass cheeks tightened slightly, the spread deepening. "Be a slut for him. Make me aroused. I need the energy and I don’t want to harm him."
PAH— PAH— PAAAH—
"HAAANGH — AAANGH — NIEENGHHT~!!"
Soha’s head fell back harder against the succubus’s shoulder.
Her tongue came out.
Not deliberately — the involuntary extension of a woman whose jaw had gone completely slack from three consecutive orgasms and was no longer accepting instruction, her tongue pressing past her lower lip as her eyes rolled upward until the dark irises were mostly behind her lids.
Her expression.
Every muscle in her face dissolved — the furious, cold, organized expression of the woman who had threatened him in the warehouse entirely and completely gone, replaced by the naked, demolished face of someone whose body had taken over all available resources and left nothing for performance.
The succubus looked at her face over her shoulder.
"There she is," she said.
One hand left Soha’s ass cheek.
Found her breast from behind.
The full, heavy weight of the pregnancy-full breast filling the succubus’s palm, her fingers closing around it with the practiced grip of a woman who knows exactly how to hold something like that — and pinched.
The nipple compressed between her fingers.
The milk came.
Not a drip — a ’jet’, a thin forceful stream that shot forward from the compressed nipple and struck him directly on the chest, warm and thin, landing in a line from his sternum downward.
"HAAAIYAANGH~~!!"
Soha’s body seized.
The third orgasm arrived in the form of a full-body lock — every muscle engaging simultaneously, her inner walls clamping down around his cock with violent force, her thighs squeezing his waist, her back snapping into an arch even while the succubus held her upright.
The squirt came with it.
The fountain of it — hot, gushing, completely uncontrolled, the accumulated slick of the entire session releasing in one wet eruption that soaked his lower abs and ran down both their thighs and dripped from the junction of them in a continuous stream.
He kept thrusting.
Through the clamping. Through the squirt. Through the lock of her body around him, her inner walls trying to hold him still while he refused to be held still, the friction of moving through the clenching pulling sounds out of both of them.
"AAANGH — HHHNN — HAAAANGH~~!!"
Her tongue still out.
Her eyes still rolled.
Her head heavy on the succubus’s shoulder, the succubus’s boobs pressed against her back, the succubus’s hand still milking her breast in slow rhythmic squeezes that sent thin jets of milk forward with each compression.
He felt it.
The build — not the gradual kind, the kind that announces itself early. The sharp, sudden kind that arrives at the base of the spine already fully formed and moves upward in a wave that doesn’t ask permission.
His hips lost their rhythm.
PAH— PAH— PAAAH— PAH—
"HAAHIIEENGH — AAANGH — HAAAANGH~!!"
He came.
The release was deep and full — the thick load of it, pumped in long surging pulses directly into her, his cock buried nine inches as the first pulse hit, her inner walls receiving the heat of it and clenching harder with the sensation, the second pulse following the first before the first had finished, the whole of his body tensing with the force of it.
Her body jolted.
Once — the single violent full-body jolt of a woman receiving something inside her for the first time, her spine snapping back, her boobs swinging hard enough to slap the succubus’s forearms, the milk spraying in a wild arc from both nipples with the jolt.
She made a sound.
Not a scream. Not a moan. Something below both of them — a long, low, absolutely unguarded sound that had no category, the sound of a body that has been taken completely past the edge of its experience and has found something on the other side it has no name for.
He held her there.
Through the last pulses. His hands gripping her hips, his cock buried fully, the warm thick load filling the deepest part of her, her inner walls still clenching in the aftershock rhythm.
The succubus’s tail unwound.
Slowly. From his balls, traveling back down his leg, retracting to its natural position at the base of her spine.
The pulse of vitality stopped.
He breathed.
"Don’t you want to know," the succubus said.
Her voice was warm. Conversational. The voice of a woman who has been patient for a very long time and has arrived at the point of the conversation she’s been waiting for.
"How her anal would feel?"
He looked at Soha.
Soha was limp.
Completely, comprehensively limp — her body held upright only by his grip on her hips and the succubus’s hands on her back, her legs loose around his waist, her head on the succubus’s shoulder, her eyes at half-mast and carrying nothing operational behind them, her mouth soft and open, the expression of a woman who has left the premises and left her body running on maintenance mode.
He looked at the succubus.
He sighed.
Pulled out.
The withdrawal produced a sound — wet and obscene and accompanied by the pour of his cum following his cock out of her, the thick white load running from her entrance down her thigh in slow rolling waves, mixing with the dried blood and the squirt-soaked skin.
The succubus released her.
Her hands simply opened.
Soha sank.
Straight down, her legs giving way, her body sliding from the table’s edge to the floor in a loose, graceful collapse, landing on her side with her pregnant belly pressed against the floor and her boobs resting against the wood, her eyes half-closed, her pussy leaking his cum onto the floor in a steady drip.
The succubus looked at her hand.
The one that had been milking Soha’s breast — her palm still damp with the milk, the warmth of it visible as she turned her hand over in the lamplight.
She raised it.
And cleaned it.
Her tongue moving across her palm in two slow strokes, her eyes on him over the top of her hand as she did it, the golden irises direct and carrying the specific satisfaction of a being who has gotten what she came for and is now moving to the next item.
She walked toward him.