Animalistic breeding

Xilonen watched the mounting for only a short while before her eyes narrowed into that familiar, precise focus.

She stepped closer, still half-dressed from sleep, and gave Varesa a rapid, expert once-over — the way the girl’s cunt clenched and fluttered, the timing of the milk spurts, the helpless rock of her hips, the faint pink fire trembling around her horns, the complete absence of higher thought. It took her less than a minute.

Then she spoke directly to Aether, voice calm and clinical even over the wet sounds of fucking.

“She’s pure appetite right now. No patience, no pacing. She needs deep, heavy thrusts that stay bottomed out as much as possible — keep pressure on the cervix, don’t tease the edge. When she clamps like that, grind instead of pulling back; it feeds the climax instead of interrupting it. Milk her tits if you can reach them; the release will keep her body locked in the same feedback loop. She’s not looking for variety. She’s looking to be filled, used, and kept full until the hunger finally quiets. Treat her like a breeding animal that’s been starving for the right bull. You already know the rest.”

Xilonen gave a short nod, satisfied the direction had been delivered, and stepped back. No full lesson today. She trusted her student to apply what he had already learned.

Aether adjusted immediately — longer strokes that ended in firm, grinding pressure, one hand reaching under to squeeze and stroke the heavy, lactating breasts so milk sprayed in thicker arcs across the hay. Varesa’s moans deepened into continuous, grateful lowing.

Around the barn the rest of the pride watched with open, restless hunger.

Yesterday’s work and the long night of Varesa monopolizing his cock had left them untouched and wound tight. One by one they gave up on restraint. Rosaria leaned back against a post, thighs spread, fingers moving in slow circles over her clit. Lisa’s hand slipped between her legs with a lazy, appreciative sigh. Dehya’s breathing roughened as she rubbed herself in matching rhythm to the thrusts. Even Ganyu’s hand drifted downward, cowbell soft, while Yelan’s usual composure cracked enough for her fingers to work under the edge of her clothes. Shenhe’s blank stare stayed fixed on the scene, one hand slowly moving between her own thighs.

Aether took Xilonen’s direction and treated her exactly like what she had become in that moment — his heifer.

He stayed deep, heavy, and relentless. Every thrust ended in a firm grind against her cervix. His hands worked her heavy, lactating tits in rough, rhythmic squeezes that sent thick arcs of milk spraying across the hay. Varesa’s body answered in pure instinct. She pushed back into every stroke, cunt clenching and fluttering in greedy waves, soft continuous lowing spilling from her throat. The faint pink fire around her horns brightened and steadied. There was no resistance left, only the animal need to be mounted, filled, and kept full.

The watching women felt it too.

The raw, uncomplicated breeding on display pulled at something older and quieter in them. It had been some time since Aether had last focused purely on knocking them up; their usual rotations had shifted toward pleasure, refinement, and stamina after Inazuma. That did not stop the sudden collective hunger to be treated the same way — to spread and present and pretend, just for a while, that the only purpose of the cock inside them was to breed. More than one pair of thighs pressed together harder. Fingers moved faster. Soft, envious sounds mixed with the wet slap of Aether claiming his heifer.

He did not try to break Varesa.

Name Bearers recovered too easily; overwhelming her would only have triggered the Flame’s reset and left her ready for more without true satisfaction. Instead he used everything Xilonen had taught him about pacing and pressure to bring her through peak after peak while keeping her mindlessly present. Each climax milked another spray of milk from her tits and another gush of clear fluid around his cock until her arms finally gave out and she rested her cheek against the hay, still pushing back weakly, still taking him.

Near the end her body made the choice for both of them.

On a particularly deep grind her cervix — already soft and welcoming from the long mounting — opened wide with a sudden, yielding give. Aether felt the change immediately. The next thrust slid past the usual barrier and sank straight into the open, defenseless heat of her womb itself. Varesa’s entire body convulsed in a silent, full-body orgasm. Her cunt locked down so hard it almost hurt. Milk poured from her in continuous streams.

Aether buried himself to the hilt, cock head pulsing inside her womb, and came hard.

Thick, heavy ropes flooded directly into the softest, most protected place she had. He stayed locked there, grinding through every pulse, making certain every drop was dumped exactly where her body now wanted it. Varesa trembled and clenched and milked him through it, a broken, grateful sound escaping her when the last spurt left him.

When he finally pulled back, a thick plug of cum followed and then slowly sealed itself inside as her cervix began to close again. Varesa collapsed fully onto the hay, pink fire still flickering softly around her horns, milk still leaking from her tits, thoroughly mounted, filled, and satisfied in a way that went deeper than simple orgasm.