Breedolotl [Erotic Content]

The crowd quietly stared at the horizon. Those on the ground saw little, the two and three story buildings all around obscuring their vision. Others had climbed to the rooftops, to get a better view of the fading light of the set sun.

Enchantments on the braziers activated just as the last vestiges of the evening were swallowed by the night. A brief moment of darkness was pushed back by the multitude of fires, starting as small sparks that spread through the beds of charcoal. The flames burned golden, intertwining with other magical machinations to raise the temperature along the entire street to tropical degrees.

John’s pulse quickened, from the warmth and the promise of what was to come. He snapped his fingers. “Cleanse,” he said, to free his women from their ongoing increase in horniness. It was an unnecessary extra step; the hypnosis did not take the wit from his harem. They vacated the pyramid at a leisurely pace. It was not part of the general ritual; in fact, it would have been more appropriate for them to stay close. Alas, the respect for the absurdity of his virility ran deep.

Only he and Nahoa stayed up there, flanking the mantle-covered altar. They stared at each other, their oiled up, gold-ornamented bodies clean despite the hours of teasing and lovemaking. Those same hours had done nothing to diminish their hunger.

Deep within the greater temple, a gong rang out. Demigoddess and Gamer climbed onto the pyramid in a hurry. To the cheers of the crowd, their lips mashed together. She tasted of mangos and the juices of other women. Her tongue pressed against him defiantly for just a few seconds, before yielding entirely to his dominance. Grabbing the three axolotl gills on the left, the side facing away from the crowd, he forced her head back until their kiss was at an almost vertical alignment.

His other arm slung around the small of her back, pressing her nubile body against him. Curving against him with all her petite body had to offer. John drank deep from the well of her passion, inhaling the scent of sweet fruits, especially peaches, from her hair.

Two sharp teeth gently pinched his lower lip. The love bite had John laugh into the kiss. He caught her intention, tilting back and dragging her along.

Layers of mantles made for adequate bedding, though John would have been just fine on the smooth stone. Atop of him, the axolotl maid grinded against him. Her slicked pussy glided up and down the length of his erection. He was quite fortunate to be superhuman, otherwise the several hours he had sustained it would have been medically concerning.

Nahoa’s legs parted. Smooth, slender and yet juicy in all the right places, they came to rest on either side of his hips. Straddling him, she broke the kiss, rising upright. She throned on him. The onlookers got a decent view of her profile, the slenderness of her waist and the firmness of her small, beautiful breasts.

John got the much greater view of her entire front. Slender shoulders and a chest that rose and fell in a shallow mound, forming no creases and casting no deep shadows. Though his like for large tits had grown over the years, his appreciation for the moderate and small remained as strong as ever. He delighted in the shape, the almost uniform curve of the up and then the down. The rest of her was every bit as gorgeous. The inwards swing of her waist, guiding the eyes down to her swelt hip. The pale curves on her chocolate skin were like roads to enjoy every peak and valley of her athletic form.

The dark blue of the Lover’s Will mark stood out intensely, a mark on the womb that he was about to fill. ‘I love breeding sex so much,’ John thought, his cock twitching with every heartbeat. Nahoa smirked, grasping his shaft. It was the only part of him where the axin had been rubbed off completely. Despite that, the gold ring around the base still stuck.

“Two tribes, one people,” Nahoa declared, her lower lips parting against the engorged head of her husband’s thick cock. “Unified… forever!” The descent was slow, the grip of her pussy intense. It was difficult to believe she had once been deprived of any and all libido. Now, she was whining in wanton lust, trying to sink faster down his cock while her gluttonous cunt clenched around him. Her insides were both that of a human woman and that of a slime, the folds reshaping themselves constantly while maintaining the heat and twitches of flesh. Usually that made for a smooth descent, but Nahoa was just too turned on. Her cunt clenched so tight, they both grit their teeth.

“Fuck,” John grunted, finally feeling her spread pussy against the base of his cock. Head tilted back, lips twitching into a broad, wicked grin, the demigoddess remained simply in place. Several seconds passed. “Nahoa?” he asked.

“Mhhhhmmmm?” a long, deeply satisfied hum echoed in the maidolotl’s throat. She looked down, devouring his abs with her eyes as they travelled up. When their gazes met, she slightly tilted her head. “Oh, right.” She sounded entranced, drunk on the moment. The broad smile stayed, revealing the sharp, white teeth behind her dark, full lips. “Gods, Heavens, Hells, I love this cock,” she moaned, slowly raising her hips. Her spine arched. Her hands came to rest on his chest. Her ass hovered above his hips, the tip barely still inside her. “I LOVE THIS COCK!” she screamed for all to hear and descended.

The oiled-up smack of her fat ass echoed in the air. It was the first of many of its kind. The truest echo followed from Nahoa’s repeated bouncing, her pear-shaped figure moving with ever more confidence and grace. Below, the crowd was roused to one more spurt of erotic debauchery. A whole generation of new Aztecs would be conceived that day. Women already dribbling cum threw themselves at their husbands once more. Those that had not partaken in carnality thus far split into two camps: those that finally broke, taking the perhaps bad decision to get knocked up by their current partner, and those that remained satisfied with their fingers. Similar effects were perhaps playing out with the men, but John paid not even fleeting attention to them.

His hands glided up thighs, feeling the muscles beneath the squish tense and relax with every repeated motion. Nahoa was racing. The magic that sustained her existence thrummed inside her body. A demigoddess made of metal, appearing as flesh and goo. The Abyss was full of such wonders, yet few compared to a woman approaching her first orgasm on her marital night.

Every bounce introduced a greater urgency to the cries that flowed from Nahoa’s lips. Her eyelids half-hid rolling pupils. Though her breathing was even, its pace was unsteady, growing ever faster. Her ears and axolotl gills wiggled in unison with the rise and fall of her chest. Her ass and thighs jiggled with every plunge. John held her by the waist, his thumbs framing the delectably visible rise of his large cock filling her up. She was such a small thing, capable of taking so much.

John put a thumb against her clit and moved it in small, rapid circles.

The touch set Nahoa off like a bomb on a hair trigger. Her rising cascade of cries unloaded in an entirely new scream, aimed at the very heavens. Her eyes clenched shut, then relaxed, then clenched again. Her toes curled, her breathing hitched, her scream stopped, replaced by a series of bursting gasps. Her pussy pulsed around John, eager to milk him, but his orgasm was a while off yet.

Nahoa’s up and down slowed as the spasms ran their course. Her breathing transformed from erratic to slow and entranced. “I would, like, switch this up, if that’s fine with you, Master?” she asked.

“Switch to what?” John asked, though his answer was going to be the same no matter what.

Giggling like a ditz, the demigoddess glided off his cock. Her pussy remained obscenely stretched, twitching around the nothing he left behind. The altar was intimately sized, so John had to sit up to give her room to lay down in his stead. Her pussy was now fully visible to the crowd. Her head hung over the edge of the stone rectangle.

“How about you, like, show my people how much of a throat slut their leader is, hmm?” the bottom-heavy shortie suggested.

‘This is definitely going to rewire some cultural expectations around oral sex,’ John thought, then fully ignored the potential consequences of this behaviour. Several of the mantles fell to the ground, displaced by the sheer speed at which he got off the altar and in front of the offered comfort hole. It was no accident that it was at exactly the right elevation for his cock to be aligned with Nahoa.

There was no easing in, no hesitance, not even an acclimation period. He slammed into Nahoa’s throat. His balls smacked against her face. Her hips bucked as she was almost made to cum again on the spot. John growled at that little failure and decided to savagely take advantage of just how durable this Natural Spirit of his was.

He held her by the neck while he fucked her mouth relentlessly. After the mild bulge in her stomach, the way her neck expanded when he filled it was quite extreme. Even stronger were her moans, echoing in the surroundings despite being muffled. They grew louder and louder as John upped her sensitivity percentage by percentage.

Nahoa’s pussy was higher up in the air. Fat mons described a deliciously cleft mount between tense, thick thighs. Pussy juice squirted in high arches – right up until one of her feet slipped. Her round bottom cushioned the fall. One leg angled, the other outstretched, she kept climaxing mindlessly.

That he was fucking a monster girl was abundantly clear by the texture of her throat. All of her mouth had transformed into a tunnel that existed for the sole purpose of sucking him off. Neither slime nor flesh, the hole was vacuum-tight, a clinging mess of folds and abundant lubrication. Her one planted leg kept tensing, raising her lower body partially up into the air, while her pussy kept on squirting clear juices, adding more and more proof to the sanctity of their marriage.

Sexual compatibility was a sign of legitimacy in Abyssal Aztec society, which was a concept John could more than get behind.

Speaking of getting behind, John had gotten his fill of pounding her throat. He slipped out, despite the grasp of those impossible walls. Long strands of various fluids connected them for the short moment between his retreat and him manhandling her into a different position. The honour of letting her lead initially was enough to satisfy the traditions of equal marriage, now he would do as he wanted.

“MASTER!” Nahoa cried, for all her people to hear, reacting once more to her fat ass getting smacked so hard that both cheeks were jiggling. John raised the other hand and delivered an echoing smack to the other cheek as well. Nahoa’s back curved as best it could, her dangling feet not quite reaching the bottom of the altar. “Use your fifth wife as it pleases you!”

John growled in agreement, seizing her waist once more and pushing into her pussy. All the extra lubrication from the orgasms certainly helped fill her again. This time, Nahoa came just from the act of penetration. “You’re such a perfect sex…” He swallowed the last word.

“Slave!” Nahoa spat it out for him. Even before all of her people, she was perfectly happy to use all their usual bedroom jargon.

Unashamed, submissive, masochistic, with wide hips and attitude – truly, a perfect maid.

His thrusts were rapid. Each time he moved out, he barely even reached a third of the way back before his instincts drove him back into her. Given her position, bent over the edge of the altar, Nahoa could do little more than take it and wiggle her ass. Each brutal impact of his hips sent ripples up her cheeks, deforming the roundness of her juicy posterior and not allowing it to ever stop jiggling. Her head was lowered, her screams broke against the surface of the stone.

“Come on, let our people see your dumbfucked face!” John roared and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Ripping her head back caused a wave of moans from the crowds, her axolotl ears to suddenly straighten, and her pussy to grip him so hard he actually had to stop moving for a second. Orgasmic juices squirted all over their joined sexes.

The moment of stillness inside her grippy hole made John aware just how close he was getting. Fertile swimmers inside him yearned to fulfil their destiny. Much as he liked this current position, he liked the mating press too much not to give honour to its name.

Nahoa let out a sound that implied her favourite cheese brand had gone out of business. In reality, he had just pulled out of her for long enough to reposition her again. The women in the crowd let out a series of appreciative murmurs when they got to see more of him again. He and Nahoa were once again sideways to the crowd. Showing off their profiles.

Even halfway to mindbroken, Nahoa had the wherewithal to bend her legs up, securing her knees to her shoulders with her own hands. Flames cast orange highlights on her shining body. John basked in the sight for just one second, imagining the round belly she would acquire in the coming months. Then he pushed into her again, to seal that fate.

The short woman was utterly buried under his frame. Long since gone were the days where he was thin as well. He was an Adonis of a man, pinning down a willing sex slave with his weight and size.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

That most rewarding sound echoed in the air, proof of the strength behind his thrusts and the wetness of her pussy. Drops of sweat and pussy juice scattered from her firm ass. The position wonderfully emphasized the prestigious girth of her thighs.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

John was getting slower. He was tasting every second of this event. The heat in the air, the scent of fruits, the distant sounds of flesh smacking against flesh from the wider crowd and the much closer moans of a harem feverishly pleasuring itself to the view of one of its number getting rutted into.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Fingers bunched into fists on either side of Nahoa’s head. Holding on was difficult now. The chain of orgasms Nahoa had been subjected to was broken, diminishing to merely regular climaxes. It was deliberate, to let her prepare herself for the moment they both were waiting for. She had made him a promise and every fibre of her being worked towards making it true.

PLAP! PLAP!

Long thrusts now, almost all the way out before going all the way back in. He aimed perfectly, grinding along every sensitive spot inside her that he could reach. Most of the mantles had dropped to the ground now, revealing the ornate stone. “Give me…” Nahoa gasped, her verdant gaze snapping to him in a final moment of lucidity. “…GIVE ME A DEMIGOD!”

PLAP!

John plunged into her for the last time. Euphoria washed through him first, a confirmation that he was past the point of no return – and who would want to return from this brink anyway? He merely held onto the threshold for as long as possible, tasting this pleasure for as long as he could. Her heels pressing against his shoulders. The anticipating tremble in her axolotl gills and pointy ears. The loving stare. That last second before he delivered her to a new stage of life.

His balls tightened. The crowd cheered ferociously as he instinctively roared out, his hips pressed against the flattened curve of her ass. Beneath him, Nahoa screamed her own climax as his seed triggered a squirting orgasm. He doubted it was the magic in it that was the deciding factor that time.

Over and over again, his balls tightened, sending surges of his virile load into her eager depths. The deep hunger with which she always milked him felt like a polite ask for sustenance compared to the voracious wringing he now experienced. Nahoa was draining him. Something inside her knew that this was different and it caused a series of milking pulses that only Siena could have mustered otherwise.

John’s own brain was made to shut down, his orgasmic pleasure reaching a breaking point. What had begun to weaken was immediately made to resurge as the Gamer experienced his own multi-orgasmic zenith. More and more competition flooded into her womb. He was locked in place not by shackles or tightly wrapped thighs but the raw intensity of it all, robbing him of control of his muscles.

When the pleasure threatened to become painful, he managed to take a deep, desperate breath and pull out. Below him, Nahoa was still locked deeply in her orgasm. He had to blink away the dancing lights to appreciate her in all of her bred glory – and she was bred. As before he had not a single doubt about it.

Legs still pulled back, her muscles too busy spasming to release the hands on her kneepits, the demigoddess squirmed. Her back arched and dropped. Her tongue was extended, her mouth halfway open, asking to be used. Her eyes were rolled up. The trembles that went up and down her spine were reflected in the tips of her frilly gills. Her pussy was a gaping mess of overflowing seed and squirting juices.

[Nahoa Impregnation AI: https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/be2fdf9e17cd.png ]

John watched her spasm. Watched her gasp. Watched her twitch – and then he mounted her again. He straddled her folded form, grabbed her head and let her taste the remnants of the load heading for her ovum. What little sense she had regained when he had slowed was unravelled in that instant. She melted away, sucking on the tip of his cock.

“First of a thousand,” John whispered.

He proceeded to keep pumping Nahoa until sunrise – just as the ancestors intended.