[So they’re in agreement. They both want her to feel good. (And he can come, too ♡)
Kiritsubo’s attentions are consuming and electric, the natural byproduct of centuries of experience in lovemaking and of fucking, two connected but yet entirely different arts. It is the former that makes her kisses so passionate, pressing affection and comfort in between the moments they part for their little pants and whines, moans smeared between tongues and whimpers nipping into lips. It is the latter that makes her thighs spread in a quivering offer when she feels his hand trace down her back and the crack of her ass to get between her legs, brushing the sopping confluence of cunt and cock and tentacle.
Did she want him deeper? Of course she did. But their guest had designs there first… for the both of them. It is not painful, for Kiritsubo, because though she has hardly advertised it… Kiritsubo can change her own shape. And though many people imagined that as a flashy, all or nothing sort of talent… she could just as easily shift her insides without disturbing the face or outer shell of whatever form she chose that day. She adjusts so that the press of Reign’s cock and the tentacle do not rip or tear, simply fill, just on the edge of too much but not crossing, leaving her delightfully stuffed and ready to cry out when the beast’s tendril curls around Reign’s erection within her, using the man’s penetration to go further itself, deeper, deeper, until it could wriggle the bulb tip up against the entrance to her womb and-]
Reign-
[She calls out her more sentient partner’s name as it happens, as she feels the moving swell of transferring eggs and morphs her body temporarily into one that would not hurt to have such a secret place forcefully invaded, choking on her own breath before she can get the cry out as egg after egg is moved into place, swelling her taut belly with their presence. Her head falls back forward, cheek resting on the top of Reign’s head where he tucks against her neck, her wild panting disturbing his hair as she refocuses, groping for his hand and dragging it up over the swell of her “pregnant” belly as if he’d done it, as if it was the result of their coupling.]
Hah… Me, too…
[Job done, the ovipositors slowly begin to withdraw, but even that gently jostles the eggs within them, causing a swell of discomfort and pleasure mixed.]
But don’t worry… Just feel it…
[Even if it’s strange, even if it’s foreign, even if it’s terrifying… It could also be good.]
Just feel me…
[Her movement resumes from how it had been arrested momentarily by the deposit, easing back into her eager bounce in his lap only slightly gentler, a bit more careful, all too aware of the way it would rearrange the eggs in her belly and his rectum, stimulating his prostate, heavy inside of her-]
Just cum with me…
[Her free hand urges him to lift his head so she could look at his face, so he could see the flush on hers, so that she could kiss him again, moaning insistently,]
no subject
Kiritsubo’s attentions are consuming and electric, the natural byproduct of centuries of experience in lovemaking and of fucking, two connected but yet entirely different arts. It is the former that makes her kisses so passionate, pressing affection and comfort in between the moments they part for their little pants and whines, moans smeared between tongues and whimpers nipping into lips. It is the latter that makes her thighs spread in a quivering offer when she feels his hand trace down her back and the crack of her ass to get between her legs, brushing the sopping confluence of cunt and cock and tentacle.
Did she want him deeper? Of course she did. But their guest had designs there first… for the both of them. It is not painful, for Kiritsubo, because though she has hardly advertised it… Kiritsubo can change her own shape. And though many people imagined that as a flashy, all or nothing sort of talent… she could just as easily shift her insides without disturbing the face or outer shell of whatever form she chose that day. She adjusts so that the press of Reign’s cock and the tentacle do not rip or tear, simply fill, just on the edge of too much but not crossing, leaving her delightfully stuffed and ready to cry out when the beast’s tendril curls around Reign’s erection within her, using the man’s penetration to go further itself, deeper, deeper, until it could wriggle the bulb tip up against the entrance to her womb and-]
Reign-
[She calls out her more sentient partner’s name as it happens, as she feels the moving swell of transferring eggs and morphs her body temporarily into one that would not hurt to have such a secret place forcefully invaded, choking on her own breath before she can get the cry out as egg after egg is moved into place, swelling her taut belly with their presence. Her head falls back forward, cheek resting on the top of Reign’s head where he tucks against her neck, her wild panting disturbing his hair as she refocuses, groping for his hand and dragging it up over the swell of her “pregnant” belly as if he’d done it, as if it was the result of their coupling.]
Hah… Me, too…
[Job done, the ovipositors slowly begin to withdraw, but even that gently jostles the eggs within them, causing a swell of discomfort and pleasure mixed.]
But don’t worry… Just feel it…
[Even if it’s strange, even if it’s foreign, even if it’s terrifying… It could also be good.]
Just feel me…
[Her movement resumes from how it had been arrested momentarily by the deposit, easing back into her eager bounce in his lap only slightly gentler, a bit more careful, all too aware of the way it would rearrange the eggs in her belly and his rectum, stimulating his prostate, heavy inside of her-]
Just cum with me…
[Her free hand urges him to lift his head so she could look at his face, so he could see the flush on hers, so that she could kiss him again, moaning insistently,]
Cum in me…