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The tendrils' crept over her body, leaving her skin awash with its slime. She wore a strong expression, holding fast against its advances after having damaged the creature thrice, but… Her weapon lay westward, knocked from her hand, and her grappling hook was... She wasn't sure. Her world had become ensnared. The monster was keeping her wrists bound, with one coiling slowly around her neck, squeezing gently at its sides. Ada's attempts to struggle were in vain, her grunts falling upon deaf ears. As the bio-weapon's tendrils slithered across her body, slathering it in a further helping of slime, she felt one appendage begin to gloss over the bud of her ass. She grunted, shook, tried her best to wriggle free, but with a wince the tentacle had slithered inside. Ada moaned with distaste, whining softly as it soon pressed deeper, slowly widening her bud, and stretching her deep. She moaned through a series of expletives, not unused to such attention, but bracing against the sudden pressure and heat. The creature kept her steady, elevating her form so that she was held aloft. She could feel it poking and prodding her insides, guts crammed full. And in that moment all she could muster was the will to bear it - that, if she could not flee, at the very least she could endure. She felt it press into her stomach, causing a guttural noise to slip from her maw, her lower abdomen becoming distended across her navel, pressing to and fro - the soft gurgle and schlorp causing her ears to prickle, the air vacating her lungs whenever it'd pressed deep, causing her dress to become torn just from the pressure.

But when she felt another tendril come around, teasing the length of her pussy lips, her whines had devolved into whimpers. Walls stretched tight, the tentacle pushed through, easing inside her cunt as it began to fuck her from both ends. Ada's head threw back, strands of spittle connected to the inside of her mouth and her lips opened wide, screaming aloud her voice of pleasure. The sounds were sickening; droplets of slime and sweat and pleasure clattering to the floor in a mess, Ada's sounds slowing to a standstill as she gritted her teeth. Hands balled into fists when she'd felt it coming, her body broken down into crying out for more of its punishment. As both tendrils pressed inwards, inside her cunt and inside her ass, a torrent of fluid left her pussy suddenly and to her restrained cry. The orgasm shook her body to its core, grounding her nerves - doubly so when the tendril inside her cunt had kissed against the opening of her cervix. The first prod sent bolts through her body, the second a soft kind of discomfort, and before she could attempt to buck her hips, twist and shout after several shocks of numbing pain, the tapered appendage pressed inwards, managing to slip inside. Ada groaned, her legs writhing, body struggling to remain animated as it was fucking her deeper, making her squirt even harder than she'd done previously. Yet when the eggs came, a momentary panic spread across her form, lightning searing each and every vein. Eggs were slowly deposited inside her ass and deeply within her womb, each stretching across the length of her entrances, stuffing her deep:

The bioweapon deposited a clutch of eggs inside her. With Ada's womb and colon feeling impossibly tight, volcanic, heavy to the touch, her mind growing numb to the prospect of it all... She'd lost count, thoughts going blank, as it continued seeding her with its progeny. When all was said and done... what Umbrella would stumble upon in the wake of her having been bred would become a handsome opportunity.

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Her throat was burning, each attempted swallow more troublesome than the last. "P-Please..." She didn't beg, least of all to someone as wretched-seeming as him, but there was something running through her mind. Something about desperate times?

She gave a quiet groan after he yanked on the thread a second time, more harshly than before. "C'mon, girl... Only a bit'a ways now." His skin peeled from the rising of his cheeks, an evil smile creasing his chapped lips. "What's the matter?" He feigned a look of concern. "Little girly hankering for some sweet release? Tongue stuck in ya throat, darlin...?" His gloved digits found purchase against the rein, threatening to yank upon it a third time. "Don't get heavy-foot now, you fall and I'll just drag your sweet tush around." A laugh followed, something dry that sickened her stomach. He turned his back to her, voice brimming with an engineered sort of apathy towards her condition. "C'mon, girly. We're burnin' daylight."

"I-I'm so," she coughed, tried to wipe at her lips, and then stumbled forward before continuing, "Water..." She sounded the word out, like doing so would make the liquid drop past her wanting lips from some dispenser on-high. "I-I can't..."

Ghoul kept his back to her, having slowly peeled around to shoot her a glance from a single glossy obsidian. His neck twisted, head half-turning as he glanced westward - mind spinning, caught in a bind. Lucy took in the shape of him, and it was like the Ghoul was somewhere else, currently. His boots scraped across the dirt when he looked back at her, proper. "You want somethin' to drink?" A half-smile returned to his mouth. Lucy’s breaths were shallow, her skin clammy, and with bags forming neath her eyes. She’d shot him a particular look - something forming from a modicum of hope until her thoughts held upon his tone, the expression animated his half-dead features. She stepped a single boot back, the exasperation spreading across her fiercely as her thoughts remained pernicious. But she wasn't saying no. “On your knees, then, girly... I'll give ya somethin'."

Lucy stared daggers at him, the very idea behind his suggestion almost leaving her liable to cut and run - or damn well attempt to. But her throat remained awfully dry, her body sapped of energy, her spirit dampened. If she didn't get a source of water now, she was going to keel over. Too much was at stake for her to die in the dirt now, left to rot lest some ferals find her. She attempted to swallow, her eyes darkening, as she carefully approached him and settled upon her knees.

The Ghoul was slow to pull the wealth of his cock out, and when he'd done so Lucy's face scrunched mildly in distaste. "Open up," he ordered, to which - with great reticence - she complied, her dry lips spreading open underneath the heft of his cockhead. She wouldn't dare look up at him, her eyes remaining glued to the shape of his length - the heat she could feel from here. Suddenly, a trickle began, like a spout giving life to a grander stream. Ghoul began pissing in her mouth, the taste hitting her senses sourly and dry. She couldn't pull away, she couldn't afford to sputter and cough; Lucy forced herself not to savor the taste but to swallow dutifully, causing her throat to burn doubly so from the acidity. The soft click of her pip-boy aired its concerns, interspersed with the quiet satisfaction of the man above her as she continued swallowing down his urine. Her thoughts were blankly scattered, nary a detail crossing the woman's mind when primordial need had taken over. Some dribble had kissed her lower lip and chin, urging her to shuffle closer and almost enclose her lips around the head of his dick. Ghoul didn't force her, lest she bare fangs and cause him a momentary inconvenience and an indefinite inconvenience for her... He let the relief wash over him, until his stream was coming to its fateful end.

Shake, shake went the movement of his dick, ensuring none remained upon his head. Lucy almost licked the remainder away and, from this vantage, she remained there simmering; her cheeks burned, belly warm with him, and coughed finally after having swallowed the rest. She hocked a spit, tried to wipe at her mouth and ignore the rads.

"You wanna... get to some more business down there?" He arched a playful brow. "I'm sure I'm backed up there, too. but-"

Lucy struggled to stand, but mustered the strength to find level ground. She ignored his cock, his smarm, the reality that she'd even drank his piss at all. A tongue found her lips, wetting them carefully. Ghoul smiled a shit-eating grin at her with his not-so-pearly whites. It was an image he wouldn't soon forget.

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A claw kissed against a portion of her thigh, tracing just south of where the rose had been inked into the soft cream of her flesh. The beast snarled, his nail pressing into her suddenly but gently, drawing forth a sliver of darkly-colored crimson. The wolf's tongue lowered downwards, droves of hot spittle in its wake, as it lavished the wound messily. She groaned, wouldn't allow him the chance to dig deeper in that way... But his claws left marks in the tender flesh of her body all the same, softly reddened gashes from his lavishing. Ciri leaned forward to mount him excitably, but the wolf paused her motions. He grabbed her with a roughness like before, turning to force her to the ground. She withered under his show of strength, pinning her there. Pushed into the dirt, her face nestled against the cold surface of muck, her ass was propped and his claws drew along the sensitive skin. The rougher his motions grew the further her thoughts began to fade. His actions left her a mess, but his cock brought a new difficulty as the tapered end met her lips.

Her digits dug into the ground, her mouth agape as the wolf’s cock worked itself inside her cunt with elation. She could feel the carefulness of his humanity tempering only so much, as the beast pushed forward whether she wished to or not - the pressure mounted heavily, body brimming with sweat at the panicked thrill of it all. The thrill, the danger, the momentary pain. He felt volcanic, impossible to bear. But she would bear it. She moaned aloud, a guttural sound filling the void in her lungs now, as his arousal sunk into her folds, a mass of flesh spreading the Witcher to her limit. It burned hotly, hotter than anything she had felt in weeks. The heat made her mewl, the pressure leaving her lungs weak. It felt immense, stretching her to the point of where pain and pleasure were giddy bedfellows, and before her lucidity slipped completely she felt the wolf tower over her. His talons nestled upon her form; gripping her, leering over his prey as the bulge of his knot soon pressed against the battered lips of her womanhood. She gasped; a tiny, weak, ineffective sound unbecoming of someone as dominant as her. The wolf began to rut her, his snarls and grunts a cacophony that rendered her comparatively small. The fur of his pelvis met her ass repeatedly and without remorse, the dew of her arousal plentiful, running down her inner-thighs. The frustration he felt that night burned through his actions as he owned her in those next few minutes, the desire coming undone as her cunt blossomed around his cock, clinging to him and clamping around every inch.

Ciri was fraught with a series of grunts and coos, groaning as her body shook and rocked with each impact of his thrusts. She clawed at the ground, the air stolen from her lungs with each stroke the wolf bestowed. His teeth gnawed at several locks of her hair, biting and pulling back. She yelped, entirely helpless now. He fucked the stress from her body, the years of guilt and pain and remorse, of yearning and struggle. As his knot continued to press against her core, the lustful haze she had fallen into did much to gloss over the concerns involved. She was but his mate, a thing to be fucked and filled and rutted into.

The wolf took his mate greedily, the breadth of his chest lingering over her. As the moon glossed over him the beast howled, an animalistic coo signifying much. Ciri had not the sense to feel shame; her cheeks flushed, eyes glazed even as they shut tightly. She shook, faintly; rendered a quivering mass of flesh, wanting more.

His snarl poured into something lesser as the knot broke past her lips, slipping inside with a shock that rattled her form. The Witcher cried out, a roar befitting the outpouring of pleasure and pain. Soon his seed would fill her deeply, sowing copious amounts with a slowness that made her weak, a hotness that made her whimper. It was all so much and still her orgasm refused to ebb; the numbing chill almost second nature now, almost too much. The werewolf claimed what was his, a warmth sorely needed, a soul desperately missed. He did so in the only way a filthy beast possibly could. The wolf savored his bounty: scrumptious flesh with supple intent.

Ciri shivered, air filling her lungs slowly with every heave of her upper back. She clawed at clumps of dirt once more, whilst the wolf nestled close, still inside her, and licked her cheek.

The blush that grew upon her cheeks had betrayed her breathless retort. “F... fuck you-“

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The somersault had led her into a stumbled dive, crashing through a weaker portion of drywall. Her chainsaw had come out the other side, slipping free from her grasp, clattering to the floor into soft spirals that wound up severing the legs of several zombies in the distance - a move she’d wanted to pump a fist at if it weren’t… She glanced behind her, tried to move. No dice. Fuck. Much to the cheerleader's chagrin, Juliet was unable to move, the front half of her body on one side, her lower half on the other, stuck in the wall. She grunted, commenting to herself the comical nature of this position, how familiar it felt from her time browsing online, and though she struggled, she never lost hope, not even when she soon felt cold, hungry hands fall upon the wealth of her backside.

She attempted to move, jostling, wanting to jerk free and work herself backwards, but the zombies were already beginning to appraise the wealth of her backside. Undead fingers draped over the tender flesh, their groaning incongruous with the deathly slowness of their touch. Pulling aside the short length of her skirt, her ass had stood on high, full and lush and with the perfect amount of give. Ignoring the muffled displeasure from the other side, the zombies were hastily ripping into the thin veneer of her panties. Tearing the cloth asunder, she was left open to them, a multitude of hands groping at the wealth of her flesh, fingers mashing into her succulent backside, and as they assaulted her from behind, several approached from the front. She found greater success in attempting to fight some of them off, and yet they proved too many. Hands caressed her face, raked through the lengths of her blonde hair, until she felt a flurry of dicks lightly smack across her face, rub against the bridge of her nose, across her forehead, covering her eyes, until her world was nothing but dick, dick, dick.

Her body brimmed with energy - the desire to flee, to break free and kick some zombie ass, but alongside those feelings had grown the specter of need. It hounded her form now, leaving her wet and wanting. Hands draped across and mashed into her shoulder-blades, her ample tits, her thighs... Fuck it.

She felt one enter the length of her cunt, and another press inside her mouth, and there was nothing she could do but remain helpless to their advances. The horny zombies bucked, rocking the wealth of her form to and fro. It never took long for them to come, a torrent of spunk leaving the heads of their cocks in droves before they departed. Juliet sputtered, strands of cum seeping from her cunt and from past her lips, but she was afforded little time to recover as two more had taken their place, another one inside her mouth, and the one behind her deciding to take her ass instead. Her eyes began to flutter and roll, mind ceasing thought as the zombies had fucked her into submission. If she was going to get out of here, it wouldn't be for a long, long time.

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"Oh, m-my fucking fuck--ough-"

It felt as though her last synapse was firing, mind growing fuzzy like it were tuned to a dead channel; the stims that'd coursed through her brain, leveraging the chemical responses, almost coming to a stop. Was she drooling? Fuck, she couldn't even feel the strand seep past her lips - half-agape and quivering somewhat, though not as harshly as the violent quake of her legs. Her thighs jostled and shook, bearing the brunt of the actuator's thrust. The belt was fastened to her waist, she'd ran the instructions right... But to feel it now, to feel the automated piston work itself into her, she could have wept. Traces of tears fell from her, the visor's suction cleaving the strands of pleasured pain in two, and Rebecca could do nothing now but mewl softly like a fucking braindead whore; like she'd gonked out on speedo or boom. The piston rose, bringing the base of the toy upwards--the soft, wet, thickly heft of its suckling having been yanked from her well-worn bud. Each vein told a story, wove a narrative of pleasure, and as her asshole blossomed from around the darkened violet length, Rebecca's mind was alight with a moment of reprieve.

Schluck. Her body tensed, she breathed out, and tried not to scream as a liberal amount of cream was beginning to seep not solely from the lips of her cunt but around the base of her bud, too. The fake dick sunk into her like a dessert that'd been left in one of the hot zones, melting beyond reproach. Her poor, puckered hole widened - stretched beautifully around the intrusion, until the fake balls were pressing a kiss up against the sorely neglected lips. When it'd done so, she jerked again, her knees threatening to buckle and leave her body keeling over. But she maintained course, she held the length of the weighted pillow behind her, upon the toned muscle of her back, as her stomach lurched with the promise of distension. "Fuuu-cck, ungh, oh..." She chewed into her bottom lip, was left gurgling, almost babbling, like one of those new age religious baths you'd spot on the telescreen. The dick pressed inward, bumping up against the back of her stomach--the bulge impossible to ignore--and once more she'd felt her guts crammed full of not simply dick, but fake spunk too - the edible kind. Yummers. The soft, wet squelch of the dick departed the deepest recess of her colon, threatened to leave a void she feared might never be filled again, until it plunged back inside her slutty fucking asshole and had her coming buckets. She tensed, body shaking, pussy quivering - and worst of all, her ass was tight, bordering on snapping the length from where it'd plunged, leaving her liable to have an enlarged stick up her ass. At least then, Trenti could see it as finally becoming literal, whereas it was once only figurative.

Rebecca heaved, nearly blacked out, and then licked at her lips. She maintained focus, she wanted the brute to fucking ruin her good and proper. Schlorp. The long, fake dick disappeared past the opening of her rectum, after having retreated somewhat, pulling at the sensitive edges of her sphincter along the way, until it pressed forward again and collapsed into the wealth of her cheeks. She could take it. This was why she'd never skipped leg day. She could-

Rebecca whimpered, a noise slipping from her throat like she was less a functional worker and more a wounded animal - something helpless and messy.

From afar, Trenti couldn't keep herself from watching any longer. She'd felt it deep in her gut. Well, perhaps not that deep, given the remodeling session that piston dick machine was doing to the insides of her roommates backdoor -- but she'd grown tired of watching all the same. Was no fair to have someone else receive such a deep dicking in her ass. For Trenti, that was like sacred ground; a place to pay worship, and here her roommate was fucking around in VR! Given the size of the pillow, the way it was held to her back, and... She stepped closer, she had to be certain of what it was.

Trenti walked, she did not tippy-toe, she walked over to her roommate's bedside and then took a knee. From the side-view now, whereas previously she was granted a front-row seat to a blossoming asshole and cream-covered cunt, she was able to make out the details of Rebecca's face now. How slack her features would become, interspersed with moments of animation - knowing twitches, the movement of her lips in order to form semi-coherent appraisals. She was muttering now, it sounded like from Trenti's amplified hearing; something about how good of fuckmeat she was for him, his one-and-only. Trenti shook her head. Would have clicked her tongue disparagingly and in several strokes, had her roomy the wherewithal to pick up on the sound, but no... Trenti leaned closer, finding little difficulty in making out her roommate's words, but needed to pierce past the sound isolation of the headphones strapped to the woman's head.

After a few moments of focusing, channeling her augs, the sounds had come through.

Trenti leaned back, tried not to laugh, but words failed her. "Fuck... you're a nasty bitch, aren't you..." she whispered, before extending a digit to wipe at the drool that'd clung to her roomy's lips. "Poor girl all pent up and with no stud to breed those holes, neh?" Then, in a moment of clarity, a devious smirk spread across the length of her dryly plum-colored lips. "I'll give you a fuckin' stud..." She rose, possessed by the desire for 'revenge' and, with careful steps, the scorned woman headed to fetch something -a device to even the playing field.

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Every touch brought pain - not simply the horror of immediate hellfire but the crushing well that was his inability to embrace her in ways she’d only dreamed of. The lack of her touch, of being unable to truly savor her, was darkening the pit of his soul. Even a vial of water could only do so much, before her machine was right back to making it impossible to give her the love Karlach deserved. But the couple found their way - more than just long, meaningful glances, they would loom close, remaining in each other's orbit as carefully as they could. Night after night was spent sharing tales, funny anecdotes with friends… but once alone, the whispering of horny thoughts to the other had become paramount. Talk led to the indulging of fantasy, of all the wondrous things they would do once it’d been solved, before the coming tide of reality ushered them back.

But this night was different. They would get her fixed soon enough, ensure that her heart would be something that hadn't torn her asunder. But this night, Tav was greeted with softly burning eyes, dancing in the dark, of the woman he'd come to love and respect now towering over him with a simple ask. She stood at least two feet taller, and her words had left his body shuddering.

"Ditch the clothes,” she ordered, “and pay attention..."

The moon's light was low, bathing their surroundings in a fog-swept gloom as the heat of her body coursed through the night. When he seated himself across from her, upon the half-hearted picnic they'd pull together, he was drinking in the sight of her reveal. Boots cluttered to the ground, her leathers stripping slowly from the wealth of her thighs; the straps around shoulder-blade coming loose - more and more of her skin came into view. With a swish of her tail, her hands cupped around the swell of a breast and down below, above her cunt; her crimson frame painted somberly from the moon's light, every curve accentuated. She turned, giving something of a goofy sway to her hips before unveiling her heat to him, fingers dancing along the breadth of her cunt. She touched herself in front of him, toned muscle glossing over supple flesh, from her breasts to her toned abdomen. She spun, wiggled her hips again, and spread her cheeks, showed him everything she wanted to give, but could not - the collection of pleasure upon her sweet lips, the wink of her savory bud. She couldn't withhold a soft moan as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

And Tav could not help but encircle his forefinger and thumb around the base of his cock. Revealing the length of it, her gasp was quiet, breathy, and she muttered an expletive at its sight. And from there, the lovers saw fit to toy with themselves, a hand upon a cock and another inside a cunt. Karlach's moans were sweet, husky, ridden with the signs of a woman who had spent years unable to seek the pleasures the tiefling so desperately craved. The soft, slick allure of her cunny, the strands of pleasure that had already begun to cling to her digits.. she tasted herself, making a subtle show of it, as she watched him stroke the length of his dick. "Not bad there, Soldier..." A half-grin met her lips. as she was rubbing soft, affectionate circles into the hood of her clit, savoring her croon and his distant, restrained moan - until her middle and ring fingers found purchase deeply inside her heat. Through half-lidded eyes, she drank in the sight of him. As he pumped in an almost figure-eight motion along the wealth of his length. All the while, she was whispering sweet nothings. Wanting him to feel her, taste her. She wanted to use his face as a throne, to huff his sack and finger-fuck his hole and engulf the whole of his sex. She wanted his smell, the sweat from his skin, wanted to hold tight and refuse to let go. She wanted him to lose himself inside her heat, take each and every part of her; stuff her insides full of that which she had savored most.

Each word, every promise, had rendered Tav a weak and needing sort; she had brought himself to a resounding orgasm, quicker than he had wanted, strands of seed plastering along the blanket they'd settled together. Karlach shuddered, breaths weak and lacking as she endured the wave of a small but numbing euphoria - she couldn't stop herself from lowering, body wracked by the ebb and flow of the orgasmic bliss, swabbing her fingers over the remnants of his pleasure. Strands of seed clung to the length of her digits, smearing it betwixt her forefinger and thumb, letting it drop into her open mouth. She tasted him, and it was indescribable. When the tiefling glanced at him, only then had she finally licked her lips and, with a bob of the throat, wore a meager smirk. "Do it again."

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The sun was settling low, leaving her persona quarters awash in a rustic yellow sheen. The light framed her silouette with a heavenly trimming, the promise of things to come. She'd felt the pressure mounting, building in her core 'till she was fit to burst, and now their services weren't just required... but enforced. "Do not stop," she breathlessly said, her skin flush and body wanting. "Take more, the Goddess demands it-"

There was a soft shade of crimson over Seteth's face now, in light of her pleas. His face remained scrunched with a terrible fluster, nerves burning hot, but who was he to deny her? That the new arrival was brought here, paying service to Rhea's needs alongside him, was... a surprise. But his suspicions mattered little in light of the task at hand. His palms sunk into the soft, succulent flesh of her bosom. Rhea cried out, in earnest, as she then brought a hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. Several dollops of milk came free from the further tension held within her ample chest; she'd rolled her head back, calling his name, calling her name. It came as a series of weak-willed, throaty pleas. Interspersed with the soft, unbecoming sounds of a woman being milked as though she were a mere sow. Milk continued to pour from her tits, dropping from the soft buds of pleasure as they were, and it was clear now just how much of a mess it was making upon the cloth of her gown in her lap. Drip, drip, drip -- the darkened blotches of wetness littered the cloth.

The force of it was all too much, too wild, and too maddening. Byleth was content to suckle, but it was Seteth whom remained steadfast - as though it were more a chore than an act of pleasure, working herself into a more studious sort of stupor. Whereas Byleth, in quiet disbelief at the situation at hand, chose to glide over the madness of enforced consummation - the trials and tribulations of religious fervor. Every month was like this, was it? News to her. Byleth's lips popped free from the nipple, a squirting of thick milk jettisoning from the release, as a lone strand of saliva kept her bottom lip connected toward the areola. Byleth moaned terribly, with a desire glazed over in her eyes, as she began to pepper kisses along the underside of Rhea's ripe, round, perky tit. Then, further, further down, across the notably toned abdomen of the body she'd worked hard to achieve over the years.

Acting almost on instinct, Rhea had begun to spread her legs, to which Byleth responded positively. A series of kisses were peppered across the softness of her abdomen, below the expanse of her navel, toward where the strings of her clothed undergarments lay. Byleth was kissing into the soft, supple skin with a deftness greater than the older woman had seemed to expect of the younger girl -- the implication that Byleth had had some measure of prior experience in such matters brought a series of dark, wondrous thoughts to Rhea's mind. She mewled softly, victim to her fate now, whilst Seteth found himself blushing madly. They'd never gotten this far... When he crossed eyes with Rhea, sharing a look of concern, she could only beam at him and beckon his lips to return to where they sorely belonged.

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Caitlyn's touch lingered across the wealth of Vi's cheek, her kisses tender and sweet, tongue trailing over the breadth of not just the woman's sweet lips but her savory bud as well. Caitlyn crooned, savoring the taste. From there, before the redhead could dispense another word, the woman angled a digit deep within her, pressing to the knuckle... "You're all talk, aren't you?"

The muscle along Vi's back remained toned, shuddering faintly, as she breathed. "Get inside me and find out, cupcake..."

There was a hitch in Caitlyn's breath as she leaned forward a second time, lips tracing the scars along Vi's back. As she'd done so, Vi could feel the heft of the length that slid up the cleft of her ass. Another shudder, even more imperceptible than the last. As her fingers mashed into the sheets, her breath was quiet, voice firm when she said: "Do it."

Caitlyn's kiss remained soft, the harness surrounding her thighs and pelvis fastened tightly. "Hurry up." Vi was almost short of breath, the anticipation having built in her throat. Caitlyn wore a small smirk as the wealth of her hips reared back, the tension mounting between them, and that was when the head of the length found purchase inside Vi's lips. With a soft buck at the hips, she pressed inward and the redhead could do nothing but groan, savoring the thrill as it began to stretch her wide. When Caitlin pushed deeper, spreading her lover further, the noises in Vi's throat died, leaving naught but a whimper. Caitlyn's nails raked along the woman's back, gentle caresses, the seizing of a hip; as she gently cooed, shushing Vi's outpouring of pitiful sounds.

And then after a moment of care, allowing the tension between the two of them to simmer, for Vi to become more accustomed to the length and its heft, its size, Caitlin's hips began to press in earnest, fucking the woman into submission. Caitlyn savored the sight of Vi's backside rippling faintly against her pelvis, thrust after thrust, fingers mashing into the wealth of her ass. She chewed into her lip, unable to deny how good Vi looked in positions like this, how often she'd imagine it night after night... As her strap dipped into the soft heat of her cunt, Caitlyn's thumb brushed over Vi's savory bud, threatening to hook herself inside, lest she lose the reins. When she did so, Vi's moans was different than from before... She'd have to take her ass next, well and proper. But here and now, when the soft clapping of flesh aired aloud in the room, Vi was left with naught but the desire to be fucked and bred, made love to. And Caitlyn wanted nothing less.