Training Montage

“It is with a heavy heart that we report our fearless Supreme Leader, Kim Jong-Il, passed away yesterday,” the radio announcer announces.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” Seulgi yelps as you penetrate her from behind, her shapely bare ass a truly wondrous sight to behold.

“Cum for me, my pleasure woman,” you command, and Seulgi collapses on the bed, her legs quivering, her whole body shuddering. The flush of her juices tells you that she’s cum; you didn’t even have to tap into her mind to check this time. You cum alongside her, your load firing into her channel, the release sweet as ever.

“Eighty-six minutes to make you cum,” you say, satisfied, as you pull out of Seulgi. “I’ve gotten faster.”

“Yes,” your trainer-cum-object-of-desire replies, breathless. “That’s a minute faster than last time.”

“Well then, we’ll aim for eighty-five minutes next time,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Then you’ll only have to take five-hundred and ten loads from me, instead of five-hundred and sixteen.”

“That would be appreciated, Eternal Leader,” Seulgi nods, her pussy practically sloshing full of your cum.

“Any tips for improving next time?” you ask.

“With all respect, Supreme Leader, try… try actually following my feedback,” she says. “If I say ‘slower’, that means you should fuck me slower, and not faster.”

“Marvellous advice,” you nod.

You contemplate following her advice for a second, and then discard that idea. Sex is about getting yourself off. What would be the point of obeying the whims of another? You’re a God.

“Oh, and something else, Eterenal Leader,” Seulgi says, staring down at her drenched pussy. “You can modify your own body, yes?”

“Would you like me to bring back the thundercock?" you grin, extending your wang into the six foot monstrosity that you’re rather fond of helicoptering around when Seulgi has to do mundane mortal things like sleep.

“No, no, not that,” she quickly says. “I was thinking… um… maybe you can increase your endurance? So that you don’t cum every ten seconds? It gets to be a lot…”

“Nah, that’s a shit suggestion,” you say. “The best part of sex is when I cum.”

“But it makes me cum slower,” she says. “And our goal is to get me cumming faster, remember?”

“Eh, I’m making fine progress,” you say. “We’re already down to eighty-six minutes after starting at ninety!”

“I felt it from my office in the great city of Pyongyang when he passed. It was like the world itself was weeping. The ground shook, the buildings screamed, the sky turned red… I thought the world was ending! I suppose, for all of us loyal citizens, it can seem like the end of the world, now that our Supreme Leader has departed,” the radio announcer announces.

You are jackhammering into Seulgi, holding her up against the wall, your cock slamming into her hundreds of times a second. You are a perfect male specimen, your muscles ripped and glistening, your refractory period only lasting mere milliseconds. Seulgi’s pussy is starting to feel a bit looser than when you first started. An unfortunate necessity.

While your left hand holds your lady up, your right squeezes her ass. This was a tip that Seulgi gave you, one of the few that you actually found useful.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” Seulgi yelps, and she cums, becoming a quivering mess once more.

“Twenty-seven minutes,” you smile to yourself, approvingly.

“How does it get precisely one minute faster each time, Supreme Leader?” she wonders aloud, sounding semi-dazed from the rough fucking you just delivered.

“I think it makes sense,” you reply, and she knows better than to question the words of her God. “Let’s go again!”

“Our Eternal Leader Kim Jong-Il ascended to Heaven at the too-young age of 69,” the radio announcer announces.

“Nice,” you say, cumming into Seulgi.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” Seulgi yelps, shuddering with her eyes shut tight.

While she bounces atop your cock, cowgirl style, you’re benching one-thousand pounds, giving your chest a light workout. Seulgi did say that women like men with nice chests, and yours is shaping up to be quite an impressive one indeed.

“Six minutes,” you say. “We’re heading down the home stretch now!”

“Only five more goes, Supreme Leader,” she says, sounding unreasonably excited about the prospect of this being over.

You would tell her off for having a bad attitude, but truth be told, you’re also starting to get tired of this woman after over three days of near-continuous fucking. She was a good romp, but it’s almost time to say goodbye.

“Ten seconds,” you say, staring at Seulgi’s exhausted, battered, sexual-fluid drenched body. “I’ve got ten seconds to make you cum. Do you believe in me?”

“I do,” she says.

But you can read her mind. She does not. She was shocked when you barely made her cum in a minute and ten seconds, but only ten seconds? That’s hardly enough time to do anything but…

You kiss her, grope her, stick the tip inside of her.

There your load goes, shooting into her, and here she cums, her whole body trembling in ecstasy.

“But how?” she cries, her eyelids fluttering.

"I must be the God of sex,” you say brashly, the thought that this woman, being one of your worshippers, might actually have her orgasms be induced by a command from your subconscious never actually occurring to you.

“You are the God of sex,” Cho Seulgi declares, prostrating herself before you.

“That’s a good woman,” you say, giving her a friendly pat on the head. “Now, if you don’t mind me, I’ll be heading off and seeing how many other women I can make cum in ten seconds.”