>>5291 Please make your own stories and post images with your own stories, too, but please keep the text limit at 9999. Here are to examples.

>>5292 Darin's visit to the Candyland was proving very fruitful. The obese wolf tottered along, his weight causing his feet to sink through the sticky coating of icing that coated the ground. Pausing occasionally, he would reach down over his belly and tear some of the sweet treats out the chocolate ground they grew from. His recent gorging had left his face smeared with icing and his stomach felling heavy and full. As he was making his way up the hill, he noticed a thick river of liquid chocolate coursing down the valley below. He immediately licked his hungry chops and waddled down towards it, flabby thighs chafing together. Arriving at the bank he flopped down, letting his feet dangle over the edge precariously. The chocolate looked so warm, so inviting; so tasty. The obese wolf leaned forwards and dived in.

>>5292 Glory started to feel sick as she was stuffed to above and beyond like she was before. She clenched a fist as her belly stretched so tight that it felt like a drum. Her breasts fought her shirt and pushed into her face a bit more as she ate. She was just blowing up like a balloon. She could feel how the volume inside her was dangerously decreasing as all the food filled her up. She leaned back as much as she could and squeezed her toes in despair as her belly pushed her legs apart. “GWACE… TWOOO…FWAAT!” Glory tried one last time to say in effort to get her sister to stop forcing food into her. “Too fat?! You have absolutely NO idea what too fat even is! Not until I’m done with you!” Grace replied kneeling and taking a big clump of cake with a fork and pushing it into Glory’s already full mouth causing crumbs to fall onto her breasts. “Yes that’s right you fat cow eat!” Grace exclaimed and followed with another forkful of cake.

The cool, white light of the refrigerator was the only light in the dark kitchen. Waves of cool air flowed over the empty shelves, ambling outwards into the outside world. It spiraled and ambled down, until it brushed against a smooth, sweaty, hot sphere. A ball of groaning, overfilled flesh, its doughy layers slowly rising up and down. Beyond its gurgling, overstuffed bulk were two great pillars of soft, pink flab, a pair of tightly-stretched denim shorts visible among the rolls. In front of the heaving belly were two bouncing, marshmallow-like breasts, barely constrained by a green crop top. Between two meaty arms was a woman’s head, resting against the tile. In the middle of her chubby face, her tongue lolled around her white teeth and plump lips. Two blue yes stared out at the ceiling in a haze of pleasure and pain. Her red hair was strewn out in a mop. Around her a mob of food wrappers and partially-eaten goodies littered the ground. An empty bucket of takeout chinese lay against a milk jug and an empty pizza box. Next to her cellulite-coated thighs was an open can of pringles. A few forlorn chips poked out of the tube, their comrades digesting deep within the orb of flesh that stood but a few inches from them. By her arms was a crumpled bag of fudge bites. Grasped in her hand was a bar of chocolate, a bite taken out of it. “Late night snack?” I said, as I smiled at her. He gave a groan of either pleasure or nausea (or both), and I gingerly stepped forwards. I knelt besides her, and placed my hands on her massively bloated stomach. I gently began to massage, kneading the warm, moist fat between my fingers. Her gut burbled and moaned as it struggled to break down the tsunami of food that had poured into it. It seemed liked she had tried her best to eat everything in the fridge, and she had come pretty close. Even through her dense layers of fat, I could feel that her stomach was as hard as I was. As I began to reach towards my crotch, she gave a soft burp and groaned. “W..aait.” She softly flicked her hand, wiggling the candy bar. “Not...until...you feed me dessert…”

Luna’s heart had brought her to several different men in her search for romance: a young astronomer, a pretty boy pop star. But when the romance fizzled and Luna was left alone, Artemis was the one who always helped her get back on her feet. He was friendly, compassionate, and a delight to be around, and eventually, her heart brought her to the handsome white space cat and the two of them fell in love. Of course, Luna had her preferences to consider as well. When it came to the human crushes in her life, they were naturally bigger than her, simply by height and stature. It took some deep consideration on her part, but she eventually realized that she liked her men on the big side. She loved Artemis with all her heart, but she always imagined him fulfilling her physical needs and being bigger. She didn’t know any magic that could make him taller, but she did take it upon herself to try out another method. And the results were simply… *** Luna stretched her mouth out in an enormous yawn after a hard day’s work. It was certainly no easy task, making sure Usagi did her work and ate right and didn’t spend the entire afternoon reading comics. She took on her responsibilities to the future queen of the Crystal Kingdom with pride and stoicism, but when she got to the end of the day, she crumpled under the exhaustion like anyone else. Fortunately enough, she had an especially gratifying reward waiting for her at the end of every day, and she so looked forward to spending time with him. She snuck into the arcade that housed her secret base for the Sailor Guardians and entered through the Sailor V console. Aside from the computer that could look into any strange goings on that Sailor Moon and co. would have to take care of, she had a special love room that only she could access. When she arrived inside, her ears perked to the familiar and titillating sounds of whirring, television, and eating. No matter how tired she was, she always got a pep in her step when she heard that voracious chomping. Luna walked through her hallway and her spacious, luxurious secret room came into view. As she turned inside, she was greeted with the most delightful sight: an enormous, twitchy mound of feline flab that one wouldn’t immediately recognize as her lover Artemis. From behind his immensity, she could see his neck roll undulating rhythmically, a sure sign that Artemis was well at work at whatever number meal he was on. She rounded her round tom and came face to face with him. Artemis looked away from his screen and said with a full mouth “Luna, you’re home!” “That I am, my dear,” she said more lustily than she had intended. Whenever Luna face Artemis’ front, it always astounded her that her lithe and slender body made her paper-thin in comparison to the flabby, furry moon that Artemis had become. It would take three of her to reach across Artemis’ width, and that made him an excellent king-sized bed. She gazed upon her happily-snacking handiwork and sighed with satisfaction. It all started innocently enough. On their first few dates, Luna would encourage Artemis to get desserts to share. She would secretly slip more and more portions of said desserts on his plate and he would happily eat them up, now knowing how much more he was eating than Luna. It wasn’t long before all those sneaky sweets started to show up again on Artemis’ frame in spades. Artemis’ belly mounded into a sack of fat that avalanched over his waist, spreading far out as to obscure his toes. He couldn’t put down his arms without them getting leaning on his rolls and lovehandles like pillowy armrests. But as big as his belly became it certainly wasn’t going to beat out his enormous butt. If sweets and cakes went to your butt, then they might as well have had a direct channel from plate to Artemis’ cheeks. As his thighs and legs got heavier, they only became absorbed by his ballooning buttocks. Each gelatinous cheek hung low and heavy past his knees, and the swaddling fat blanketed his knees into near-uselessness. He may as well have not had a tail, since it kept getting lost and stuck in-between his butt like a too-small pair of panties. When Artemis finally noticed how much weight he’d been gaining at first, he was curious to say the least. He mulled over the idea of exercising and eating out less just to shave off some of the extra poundage he’d been accumulating. Luckily, Luna was able snuff out any such notion of fitness by tickling his folds and creases, jiggling his juicy belly and making it shimmy as if he were his own vibrating massage chair. And speaking of massages, it was easy for Luna to convince Artemis to keep his brick house butt when she would knead and rub those flan-filled cheeks and squish them together like fluffing two especially full pillows. Luna knew that she liked bigger guys, but it wasn’t just anyone taller than her. It was the idea of someone’s sheer size dominating her and encompassing her very being. With Artemis having grown wider and fatter by the day, she knew that an obese Artemis was the true key to her heart. And once she convinced Artemis to keep all of his weight, they both wanted to see how far he could go. As the months passed, Luna had slowly but surely forgone any secrecy with bulking up Artemis. She loved her man fat, and Artemis rather enjoyed the added padding. There was plenty of preparation to take care of to accommodate their new shared obsession. There was installing the new secret room in the base, preparing a couple of advanced Luna-P models to let Artemis communicate with the outside world through a hard-light hologram that simulated a thin, normal-looking Artemis (not to mention models for feeding hygiene), and of course, there was having enough food so that Artemis would never have to go hungry on his own. It was hard work, but every second of it was worth it. Because the blob that Artemis became was nothing short of incredible. Nowadays, none of the Sailor Soldiers would even recognize Artemis as a cat if they saw him in person again. He had no more torso to speak of, considering his entire upper body was almost entire belly at this point. His midsection was so enormous and flabby that he even sported an extra dollop of chest fat layered atop his gargantuan waterbed belly that shoved up into Artemis’ chin. His muffin top overflowed and smothered his lap and groin, and the sagging backfat he sported only rounded him out even more. His arms and legs were cradled so much fat that they swallowed themselves up in accordions of adipose. He could hardly move them anymore, and the digits on his limbs couldn’t manage any more than helpless wiggles, being weighed down by swaths of hanging fat. Every day, they grew closer and closer to being lost and smothered in his ever-flabbing limbs. But when it came to swallowing up his limbs, his butt was the most gluttonous part of this gluttonous cat. His thighs and legs became one with his enormous growing ass, which spread out along the ground by the day as Artemis continued to eat, easily becoming the biggest layer on this layer cake of a cat. Luna’s breath fluttered as she remembered how breathtaking the sight of Artemis gaining day by day was. His movements became more labored and lumbering until he couldn't move on his own. He grew more lazy and lethargic and loving, and Luna loved nothing more than to dote on him with endless treats. And nothing made them grow closer than Luna intimately feeding her growing man. “I missed you today,” Artemis said as he finished inhaling another treat. “You say that all the time, Artemis,” she said bashfully. “Because it’s true every day! You know how much I love spending time with you.” “Oh, Artemis! You butter me up, you enormous fat cat!” “Well why don’t you return the favor?” he said with a wink. Without another word, Luna clapped her hands twice. A Luna-P immediately floated around, balancing a rich cake with especially thick-looking pink frosting and a cutting life. It gently placed each thing on the ground and flew away to perform some other unseen task. Luna happily sliced off a piece of cake. She leaned on Artemis, her free hand sinking into Artemis’ fat like quicksand. With her other hand, she placed the cake near Artemis’ mouth. He took it in his jaws, but Luna let it rest on the apex of his belly before actually feeding it to him. Artemis made a questioned muffle through his cake. “I thought it would be fun if you fed it to me.” “Oh, I’ll be there in a minute, big guy!” Luna rolled over to one side of Artemis, making him giggle as his fat shifted around. “I just need to relieve some stress for a moment!” Luna then started to snuggle with Artemis’ fat belly, letting her arms wrap around as much kitty flab as she could and letting herself sink into him again. Artemis giggled again as her cheek pushed into his chest fat. He felt as warm and fuzzy as a comforter, and as Artemis ate, he felt all too happy to be her cushion. As he started to munch on his cake, Luna climbed on top of him to give him a peck on his chunky, full cheek. “Hurry up the rest of your cake.” she whispered lovingly. “I can’t wait to roll you into bed, Artemis.” “Why bother with the bed, Luna? You’ve got your perfect mattress right here.”

Now, it's your turn.

And what it does for images it can do for animations and videos, too.

>>5294 Holy shit you're Nanocarbs? Your Grace & Glory and other stuffing stories were FORMATIVE for me!

>>5344 I'm like them, you mean.

>>5345 I'm not nanocarbs, however.

"Her belly screamed at her as she made her way through the potato wedges, Drip huffed as she struggled to keep bringing food to her lips. Her entire body feeling tight all over, she could feel the throb of each heartbeat pulse over her dangerously thin skin. The last potato wedge in her hand, she took a deep breath and pushed it into her mouth. Chewing a few extra times for good luck, she prayed it wouldn't be too much before gulping it down. The wedge of potato, bacon, and cheese hitting her belly, her toes curled as she let out a loud moan and..."

"Sorry, I broke your girlfriend" Two roomates live together: one has a girlfriend, the other doesn't, but has a hobby of collecting old magical paraphanalia, cleaning them up, and selling them at a local shop. One night, the magic roomate and the girlfriend are sitting at the apartment waiting for the first, when the girlfriend accidentally touches something and ends up expanding into an enormous blob. When the first roomate comes back, they find the second trying to clean the place up, and the title comes into play. Temporary mind-break, as the expansion causes her nerves to become super overstimulated. The bulk of the story is them trying to figure out how to turn her back as she's cumming her brains out. Ending A: she's shrunk back down, but has now developed a wg fetish Ending B: they cannot fix her, and so she just becomes a staple of the house

I think furry belongs in >>>/bbwfur/

>>5293 >>5294 >>5309 >>5337 I have a feeling these were simply copy and pasted from four other Deviantart pages, and weren't written by this one specific anon. >>5338 >Lordstormcaller Of course. It was Wildcat. Good to see he hadn't changed at all since 2022. He always this much of a shitter back then and he is now. >>11238 You're an idiot for bumping this thread. Fuck you.

>>11240 He has done this shit before. he made the exact same thread titled write your own stories and posted a bunch of (pretty sure the exact same) copy pasted stories written by deviantart creators He got called out for it and didn't understand why. he clearly still doesn't get it. There used to be a shill your own stories thread that was actually good, but this dimwit has ruined the ecosystem

Started working on a Metorid fic where Samus needs to go into hiding on an unknown planet to evade the Space Pirates. While there she ends up gorging herself on worms that seem to have the suicidal tendency of crawling into her stomach (light vore, I suppose). I'm also toying with the idea of gasses on the planet that make Samus hungry and having more parts of the ecosystem be edible. I've already done two scenes, and while maybe its a bit early to seek feedback, I figured I'd post it here. I'm not very knowledgeable when it comes to Metroid. I've played all the 2D games to varying capacity but most of my knowledge about the lore and backstory comes fan discussions. Any corrects in that regard would be very appreciated. [Scene 1] A violent explosions echoed from the other side of the Federation ship. Samus stammered for a moment, crashing backwards onto the floor with a loud thud. Her body felt unnatural... uneven. She got up from the floor and quickly made a mental note of the fact that her rear felt slightly heavier than normal. She moved on from this thought quickly. Though her body had lost a bit of its composure, her mind had not. She new what was going on and she knew what she had to do. The Bounty Hunter started running for the docking bay as an answer to question she hadn't even asked yet flowed through her mind. "Damn Space Pirates..." she muttered as she crossed yards in seconds. She would be proven right almost immediately as one of the mantis-like aliens dropped on her from above. This time Samus managed to stay upright, wrestling the unruly bug from her back, ripping off its frail limbs and spilling its green blood as she did so. She threw the creature's dying body at the wall as she picked up the pace again. This time, though, as she closed in on the docking bay, Pirates crawling on the walls all around her, a different thought intrusively butted into her calculating brain. She realized again that her body felt slightly heavier than normal. At first she chalked it up to the space station's artificial gravity, but no. This time she innately sensed that her body mass was greater than normal. This was in addition to an increase in the difficulty of running and breathing. These were all subtle alterations, but once she noticed them, she couldn't helped but obsessing over them. "Have I gotten... fat?" She though as the personality of a confident bounty hunter cracked into that of a teenage girl. The invasive thoughts dissipated as another explosion sounded while Samus approached the dock. A dock which was blocked off by Space Pirates. She punched some of the star slime out of her way before quickly boarding her ship and launching away as the sound of explosions got closer and closer to her. Smoke and bright lights filled the docking bay as Samus's ship exited the crumbling starship. "Whew." she sighed relived as she sulked back into her chair. "That was a close one" Samus straightened herself up and she attempted to get a visual on the habitation ship. "It seems they're focused on the ship..." she muttered while pulling up a map of nearby star systems desperately looking for a place to hide. "ADAM, I need a planet to hunker down on as I wait for this situation to blow over. I've searched all the local star systems and none of the planets on them seem like a good match". Samus took a moment to breath as she looked out into space. ADAM was taking a while to respond. Clearly it had a lot of data to process. Samus' cosmic concentration was broken as he attention was drawn to a half-eaten granola bar sitting on the control panel. "So that explains it..." she said, thinking back to her awkward feelings on the space station. "I gotta lay off these things...". Samus prepared her arm to throw the bar behind her... "Oh, to hell with it" she said, quickly shifting her arm's position towards her mouth, proceeding to gobble up the rest of the snack. Suddenly, ADAM came online. "Gravitational anomalies in this sector seem to suggest an as-of-yet unidentified moon surrounding a nearby gas giant. It could be a good place to hide" "Bingo!" Samus shouted, clenching her first. "ADAM, set course to that moon" she said... [Scene 2] [Samus has fallen down. She is sitting on her ass in a shallow pool with her legs spread out] ...Samus' expression soured. She was about to make her way back up, but then she saw a peculiar creature surfacing. It was a strange, worm-like creature. It almost looked like a long tube with a body that was a dark, murky shade of green and with ends that looked like bottle-caps, which were only slightly more vibrant. The leach-like creature also happend to have a shell like structure covering half of its body, with the other half being entirely smooth. Samus just sat back and watched the bizarre sight as it slowly emerged from the water and then crawled up her leg. It almost looked like a snake in motion, but a snake wouldn't pulsate or ungulate. Soon enough the creature crawled its way on Samus' chest. Samus didn't start paying attention again until the creature stared working its way down her throat. At first she was disgusted but then she realized that the worm tasted exquisite. It was to die fore. It tasted like the most wonderful assortment of pastries all being eaten at once. Once she realized this, she started aiding the creature, slurping it up as if it were a strand of spaghetti. Once Samus worked the thing down her throat, she grined. "That was, *BWAOOOPH*, delicious... I need more!" and thankfully for her she didn't have to wait long, as two more emerged from the water with an even more directed trajectory. One climbed up her leg like then first, however the other crawled up Samus' vaginal region, tickling it slightly from the outside of her Zero-Suit. Both creatures, however had the same destination. This time, Samaus didn't try to fight, she simply let the worms do their thing, and she loved it. They tasted so good. "I think..." she huffed, her bloat stomach pressing on her digaphram, "...I'll call them Suicide Worms". [A few scenes later, Samus tries to get back to the ship while being assaulted by hundreds of these things.]

Recent events have been… strange, to say the least. Ever since Professor Marmalade had been locked away, having been framed as the "Crimson Paw" criminal mastermind, sentient blobs have been appearing through the city, through some inter dimensional crack in space-time (the cracks automatically heal as more blobs come in, but still, this is worrying.) Nobody knows where these blobs come from (not even Diane) but whatever the case, they have been wreaking havoc, stealing electronics and kidnapping people—including the Bad Guys. Diane has since swore to the people of San Francisco that she will get rid of the blobs—for good—and find out who's pulling their strings. Diane Foxington is a slender, anthropomorphic red fox with pear shaped hips/thighs and the basic fox traits - such as pointed-ears, a pointed muzzle with black inner lip-liner and a dusty-pink nose (instead of black), paws with dark auburn claws, and a bushy tail. During Diane’s daily job as governor, she wears a grey pansuit over a white collared shirt and black tie along with a pair of black framed glasses, and a pair of dark grey flats. Diane is currently gathering up all the blobs into one area by making herself the bait, constantly moving while trying not to trigger any alarms. After all, she doesn’t want civilians getting involved with this mess—she just wants answers. "Alright, you little freaks," she murmurs under her breath, her tail flicking agitatedly as she sprints down an alleyway, the sound of gelatinous bodies slithering behind her. "Time to get rid of you." As Diane reached a dead end she turns to face the blobs—their translucent forms pulsating unnaturally. "Let see how well you fair in my stomach~" Diane grinned before suddenly running at them and grabbing the first one she could get her hands on before swallowing it whole! The blobs immediately panicked and tried to flee but Diane stomped on another before scooping it up and swallowing it down too. Blob by blob, Diane swallowed them all until finally the last one was left quivering in fear at her feet. Diane smirked before lifting her foot up and bringing it down on the blob—squishing it before scooping it up and letting it slowly slide down her throat. Diane then let out a soft burp as she rubbed her stomach—which was massive now. Her stomach was so large it was larger then her torso and reached close to her knees—and it was moving violently—but Diane simply giggled as she patted it. "All mine~" she purred. Diane then began making her way back to her office—walking slowly due to her engorged stomach—but she didn't care—she was too busy enjoying the feeling of her prey struggling inside her while she digested them. "Ohhh~ you guys sure put up a fight~" she teased as she rubbed her stomach, feeling the blobs push against the walls of her stomach, but it was no use—they couldn’t escape. As Diane reached the building where office was, a group of reporters swarmed her. "Governer Foxington, how do you plan to address the ongoing invasion of our city by blobs from another dimension?" Diane smirked as she patted her stomach. "I’ve already taken care of the problem~" she said before letting out another burp—which only confused the reporters further. Diane grabbed one of the reporters microphones before speaking. "And as for any other sentient blob who wants to try something… don’t. Cause you’ll be joining your friends here~" Diane said as she pressed the microphone against her stomach, letting the muffled squeaks of her prey be heard by everyone. One reporter, who had a sudden realization of what Diane meant—fainted. Diane handed the microphone back before walking past them, her hips swaying exaggeratedly with each step—partly due to her newfound weight, partly due to her own amusement. She heard whispers behind her—some horrified, some oddly intrigued—but she didn’t care. Right now, her priority was getting somewhere comfortable to let digestion do its work. As she waddled through the lobby, her assistant, a nervous-looking raccoon, nearly dropped his clipboard at the sight of her swollen belly. "M-Ma’am, your 3 o’clock with the city planners—" Diane waved a dismissive paw. "Reschedule it, Jeremy. And fetch me some antacids." The raccoon gulped but nodded, scurrying off as Diane chuckled at his reaction. Up in her office, she locked the door and collapsed into her plush chair with a groan, her stomach sloshing audibly. "How come you’re not digesting? Are you really that dense?" she muttered, prodding the squirming mass. A muffled squeak answered her. Diane rolled her eyes, then slapped her belly hard—eliciting a collective whimper. "Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just stubborn."

>>12624 Did you write this story or did you promptfag the absolute shit out of this one? >— Literacy is fucking dead.

Wrote this one a while ago now: https://www.deviantart.com/ah999999/art/Back-to-Baby-Weight-Gain-Drabble-1251834822

I wrote this a while ago, it's a gay vampire related story My first ever attempt at writing something like this so some feedback would be nice

https://www.mediafire.com/file/o67ersy6d1v35mg/textfile.txt/file

You’ve recently moved into this new neighborhood, and lately you’ve been noticing your neighbors wife, Makima, who always seems to be in a good mood around you. She often waves at you from her front porch while watering her plants, and sometimes leaves freshly baked cookies at your doorstep when you’re away. Her husband is often gone, mostly keeping to himself and hasn’t interacted with you much. Makima is not a small woman by any means, she stands tall at a height of 6'5" ft tall (towering over you and her husband), she’s 44 years old and despite this she’s very youthful with a curvaceous figure, her husband isn’t as tall as her (standing at 5’8”) and he’s often seen working on his laptop on their porch while Makima tends to her garden. Makima has long light red hair, normally kept in a loose braid with bangs reaching just past her eyebrows and two longer side bangs that frame her face, her eyes are yellow with multiple red rings within them, and her skin is fair. Makima’s figure is curvaceous yet heavily maternal in nature, mostly because she is eight months pregnant. Her breasts are massive, each five times the size of her own head, her nipples and areola are large and puffy, noticeable through her shirt, her stomach is swollen with her unborn children, her hips extended quite far past her shoulders, making her have a heavy pear shape, her buttocks are massive and pillowy, stretching her pants to their limits, her thighs are thick and soft, rubbing together as she walks, and her calves are thick as well. The best way to describe Makima’s figure is "hyper-sized", meaning she’s shaped like some kind of fetish artist’s dream, yet she’s entirely realistic and her body is completely natural. One late evening, you were sitting on your couch, watching tv when you heard the doorbell ring. You got up and answered it, revealing Makima on your porch, her massive belly is so large it reaches down to her lower thighs, and she’s forcing her back to arch just to accommodate the sheer size of it. She looked kinda nervous, shifting her weight from side to side while the other was resting on her lower back, supporting her posture. "Makima? How come you’re here so late? It’s nearly ten." You asked, noticing the way her yellow eyes darted behind her towards her house before she leaned in slightly, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Can I come in? Just for a bit—my husband’s asleep, and I..." She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her maternity blouse. "I could really use someone to talk to." The strain in her voice was subtle, but unmistakable. You stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. As she bent down to enter through the doorway—her belly brushing the frame—you caught the faint scent of lavender and something richer, like warm milk. She settled onto your couch with a relieved sigh, wincing as she adjusted her position. "Sorry," she murmured, "it’s getting harder to move these days." You sat across from her, noticing the way her hands absently stroked the taut curve of her stomach. "Everything okay?" you asked. She hesitated, then laughed—a soft, brittle sound. "Honestly? No." Her gaze flicked to the window, where the lights of her house glowed dimly. "My husband Haru he… he’s been getting far more aggressive ever since I’ve been visiting you. Says I’m ‘cheating’ just by talking to another man." Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her shirt. Makima was dressing in a white long-sleeved shirt that couldn’t cover all of her massive belly, a black loosened tie hanging around her neck, tight black pants and brown shoes. She let out a slow breath, shifting her weight with a wince. "I don’t know what to do. The babies are due next month, and—" She cut herself off abruptly as a sharp kick visibly rippled under her shirt. You could see the faint outline of tiny feet pressing outward. "You shouldn’t be dealing with this kind of stress right now," you said carefully. She gave you a tired smile. "I know. But Haru wasn’t always like this. It’s like he’s become a different person." Her fingers traced slow circles over her belly as she spoke, soothing the restless movement beneath. "He used to bring me hot chocolate when I couldn’t sleep. Now he just glares if I get up too much." A muffled *thump* echoed from next door—something heavy being set down. Makima stiffened, her breath catching mid-sentence. "He’s waking up, I should probably go back," she murmured, though she made no move to stand. The exhaustion in her voice was palpable. "Why do you stay?" you asked quietly. She laughed again, softer this time. "Because I still love him. And because I keep hoping that this is just a phase." Another kick visibly shifted the fabric of her shirt—harder this time, making her gasp slightly. "They’re restless tonight," she admitted, rubbing slow circles over the spot. "Probably sensing my stress." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Matthew… if Haru goes too far, can I move in with you? Just until I figure things out?" The vulnerability in her eyes was raw. Before you could respond, the sharp sound of a door slamming next door made both of you flinch. Footsteps crunched on gravel, growing louder. Makima’s breath hitched. "Shit, he’s coming. Help me up—quickly." You grabbed her hands, pulling her upright as she bit back a groan. She barely had time to smooth her shirt before Haru started knocking on your front door—not ringing the bell this time, just three sharp, impatient raps. "Makima? I know you’re in there," Haru’s voice came through the wood, clipped and tight. She exhaled shakily, then called back, "I was just asking Matthew if he had any plans tomorrow—the garden needs weeding, and—" "Bullshit," he interrupted. "Get out here. Now." The command left no room for argument. Makima shot you an apologetic glance before shuffling toward the door, her hands instinctively cradling her belly. As she opened it, Haru’s sharp gaze flicked from her to you. He was smaller than her, but the way he held himself—shoulders tense, jaw set—made him seem larger. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?" he hissed at her. Makima’s fingers tightened around the doorframe. "Just talking," she said evenly, though her voice wavered. "Like I said—" "At ten fucking thirty?" Haru cut in. His knuckles whitened around the porch railing. "You think I’m stupid?" Makima exhaled slowly, her belly shifting as one of the babies kicked again. "Haru, please," she murmured, stepping forward—partly to block his view of you, partly to steady herself. "Let’s go home." He didn’t move. Instead, his eyes narrowed. "You," he spat, jabbing a finger at you over her shoulder. "Stay the hell away from my wife." Makima stiffened. "That’s not fair," she protested softly. "Matthew hasn’t done anything—" Haru suddenly reached up and slapped her—hard. The crack of his palm against her cheek made you flinch. Makima barely reacted, just turned her head back slowly, her red braid slipping over her shoulder. A long silence stretched between them. Then, very quietly, she said, "That’s it," and stepped back, shutting the door in his face. "I’m done hoping." Haru started yelling from the porch, his voice muffled but furious through the wood. Makima leaned against the wall, breathing unsteadily, one hand pressed to her belly. "Matthew," she whispered. "I think that time is now… Haru’s gone too far." Another kick rippled under her shirt as if in agreement. You could hear Haru banging on the door now, the hinges rattling. Makima flinched with each impact, then suddenly gasped, doubling over slightly. "Oh no… I need to sit down," she murmured, clutching her stomach. You guided her back to the couch, where she sank down with a groan. "I’m… I’m not going to be able to walk until tomorrow. I need you to go pack my things while I rest here." Haru’s shouting grew louder outside. "Makima! Open this fucking door before I break it down!" His voice cracked with rage. She exhaled shakily, rubbing her belly. "Bring him with you, he’ll try and break in if you leave him alone." You hesitated, then nodded—stepping outside to find Haru red-faced, fists clenched. You slung an arm around his shoulders, steering him away. "Haru, listen—" "Get off me!" He shoved you back, eyes wild. "She’s my wife!" His voice cracked. "Yes… but you just slapped her," you said lowly. His fists trembled. "I—I didn’t mean—" His anger dissolved into ragged breaths. "I’m sorry… I… I’m just so tired." Inside, Makima groaned softly, shifting on the couch. "Haru, go help Matthew pack my things," she called weakly. His shoulders slumped. "You’re really leaving?" he whispered. She touched her cheek where he’d struck her. "I need space right now, but this won’t be permanent." He swallowed hard and nodded.

You led Haru back to their house and began to pack her stuff—mostly maternity clothes, toiletries, and sentimental items like the knitted baby blanket she’d been working on. Haru hesitated by the dresser, picking up a framed photo of them on their wedding day. His fingers trembled around the frame. "I didn’t mean to hurt her," he murmured, more to himself than to you. Back at your place, Makima was sitting up now, breathing slowly through a contraction. "I should probably get some sleep… they’ll handle the rest without me," she said wryly, rubbing her belly. She closed her eyes for a moment before glancing toward the bedroom. "Too bad I wasn’t Matthew’s wife… then we’d be able to sleep together tonight." She chuckled weakly, but the exhaustion in her voice was unmistakable. Haru returned first, carrying a duffel bag stuffed with her belongings. He hesitated in the doorway, shoulders hunched. "Makima? I…" His voice cracked. She was fast asleep on the couch, her breathing slow and deep. Haru exhaled shakily, setting the bag down gently. "I’ll… I’ll come back tomorrow," he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. You nodded, watching him retreat into the night. Makima stirred slightly, her belly shifting as she mumbled something unintelligible. A soft kick pressed against the fabric of her shirt—gentler now, less frantic. You draped a blanket over her shoulders, careful not to wake her. She sighed in her sleep, curling slightly toward the warmth. Morning came with the scent of coffee and the sound of shuffling fabric. Makima was already awake, perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch with her hands braced on her knees. "Matthew? Where are you?" she called softly, her voice thick with sleep. You rounded the corner with two mugs in hand. "I was just in the kitchen—thought you could use some hot chocolate." She accepted it gratefully, her fingers brushing yours. "Looks like someone’s trying to prove he’s better than Haru," she teased, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes. The doorbell rang—sharp, hesitant. Haru stood on the porch, shoulders hunched, eyes red-rimmed. "Can I come in? Is Makima awake?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. Makima sighed, setting her mug down. "You might as well," she called out. Haru opened the door, hesitated, then knelt in front of her. "I was up all night thinking," he admitted, pressing his forehead against her knee. "I don’t know what’s wrong with me." Makima rested a hand on his head, fingers threading through his hair. "Haru, do you know what you did?" she asked quietly. Outside, the morning sun cast long shadows across the porch where Haru had left his laptop—still open, still running some late-night work. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the couch. "I hurt you," he whispered. Makima exhaled slowly, rubbing her belly where the babies stirred. "Yes," she agreed softly. "Do you remember what we agreed to on our wedding night?" she murmured. Haru swallowed hard. "No hitting," he mumbled. "No matter what." She lifted his chin with two fingers, her yellow eyes holding his. "And what would happen if one of us broken that promise?" A tear slid down Haru’s nose and splashed onto her knee. "The other would divorce the hitter," he whispered. Makima nodded once, then winced as a contraction rippled through her. "So you know what must happen now," she said through gritted teeth. Haru looked sick. "But the babies—" "You agreed to every detail of our promise," Makima interrupted, breathing sharply through another contraction. "Including handing over full custody if this ever happened." She groaned as another kick visibly shifted her swollen belly. Haru's hands hovered uselessly near her stomach before falling away. "Will… will I ever get to see them?" His voice cracked like a child's. Makima nodded slowly, rubbing the spot where tiny feet pressed outward. "Yes, we did agree that the one who striked the other forfeits custody… but still gets supervised visits." She sighed as another contraction made her grip the armrest. "Assuming you learn to tie up those hands of yours." Haru swallowed hard, staring at his own fingers like they belonged to someone else. "I'll go to anger management," he whispered. "Every day if I have to." Makima's expression softened slightly. "Good. Because if you ever raise a hand to me or these babies again, that'll be the last time you see any of us." The finality in her voice made him flinch. Outside, a car door slammed—the neighbor's teenage son leaving for school. The mundane sound made the moment feel painfully real. Haru wiped his face roughly with his sleeve. "Can I... at least drive you to your first ultrasound next week?" Makima hesitated, then shook her head. "Matthew can take me." Haru's shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "Right. Yeah. That's... that's fair." Makima shifted with another groan, pressing her hands into her lower back. "Haru, go home. Get some sleep." He looked like he wanted to argue, but stood stiffly instead. "I'll... call you later," he muttered, hesitating before pressing a kiss to her forehead. She allowed it, but her expression remained guarded until the front door clicked shut behind him. The silence stretched for a long moment before Makima exhaled shakily. "Well," she said with forced lightness, "that went surprisingly well for a man who slapped his pregnant wife twelve hours ago." You handed her the forgotten mug of hot chocolate, now lukewarm. She took it gratefully, her fingers brushing yours—warm despite the morning chill. "You're staying here then?" you asked. She nodded, sipping slowly. "Well, it depends on how long you’d want me," she mused, her tired eyes flickering up at you. "I’m not exactly small, and I’m a hormonal mess." "Makima," you said flatly, gesturing to her swollen belly—now visibly shifting as the babies rolled beneath her stretched skin. "Why did you two make such a... specific promise?" She laughed—a soft, brittle sound. "Because we both knew," she admitted, tracing idle circles over her stomach. "His father was the same way. Thought love meant control." Another contraction rippled through her, making her grip the mug tighter. "Haru swore he’d never repeat it. And yet..." You sat beside her, careful not to jostle her too much. The couch groaned under her shifting weight. "So what happens now?" you asked. Makima exhaled slowly, watching her belly rise and fall. "Now? I focus on these four." A tiny foot pressed outward sharply, making her wince. "Ow—yes, yes, I know, Mama’s stressed." She rubbed the spot gently before glancing at you sidelong. "Assuming you don’t mind a hormonal, hyper-pregnant woman invading your space." Before you could respond, she reached up and cupped your cheek—suddenly, tenderly. Her thumb brushed your skin. "You’re too kind," she murmured. "Most men would’ve slammed the door in my face." You snorted. "Most men aren’t exactly dealing with a six-foot-five pregnant woman who could probably bench-press them." Makima burst out laughing—a rich, warm sound that made her belly jiggle. "Fair point," she wheezed, clutching her sides. Outside, birds chirped—a mundane soundtrack to the surreal morning. Makima sighed, shifting her weight with a groan. "So… how’s living conditions going to work?" she asked, nodding toward your single bedroom. "I’m not exactly fitting on this couch long-term." You hesitated. "I can take the couch." She rolled her eyes. "Matthew, I’ll need this couch often, for naps, for… well, everything." Her fingers traced the swollen curve of her belly meaningfully. Her stomach suddenly gurgled loudly. "Oh goodness," she groaned, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Food… now please." You chuckled and headed to the kitchen. Behind you, Makima murmured, "And Matthew? Thank you." There was something raw in her voice—more than gratitude, something deeper. As you rummaged through the fridge, her voice carried softly from the living room. "Could you whip up something hearty, with lots of meat and soup? The babies demand protein." She punctuated this with a small groan as she shifted position. "That could also be why I’m so big… quadruplets tend to require extra everything."

You set a pot on the stove, the clatter of pans covering the sound of her slow, measured breaths. "Makima," you called over your shoulder, "you never mentioned it was four." She chuckled darkly. "Well, Haru didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain much last night." A pause, then fabric rustled as she suddenly popped open her white button-up shirt further, taking out one of her massive breasts—already leaking slightly—and started drinking from it herself with a relieved sigh. "Sorry. These feel like they’re gonna pop." The sight made you freeze mid-chop. She glanced up, one eyebrow arched as milk dribbled down her chin. "What? Never seen a woman sucking her own tit before?" You blinked. "Can’t say I have." She shrugged, shifting her grip on the swollen flesh. "Desperate times. Helps with the ache." The pot bubbled loudly, breaking the silence. Makima sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before tucking herself back in. "I should warn you—things are about to get messy. Four babies means four times the hormones, four times the leaks, four times the midnight cravings." She patted her belly fondly. "And apparently four times the attitude." You stirred the soup, glancing back at her. "You realize you're basically moving a maternity ward into my apartment, right?" She grinned, stretching her legs with a groan. "Think of it as immersive parenting practice. If you survive me, newborns will be a breeze." The front door creaked open suddenly—Haru stood frozen in the doorway, holding a paper bag. "I... brought breakfast." His eyes flicked to Makima's half-buttoned shirt, then away quickly. She sighed, pulling the fabric closed. "Haru… I was drinking my milk, nothing is happening." Haru hesitated, then set the bag on the coffee table with trembling hands. "Egg sandwiches," he muttered. "Extra cheese, just how you..." He trailed off, staring at her swollen belly. Makima glanced at you, then nodded toward the bag. "Matthew, can you hand me that bag? I want to check if they’re edible." Her tone was light, but the undercurrent was unmistakable—she didn’t trust him right now. You passed her the bag, watching as she peeled back the wrapper with deliberate slowness. She sniffed the sandwich, then took a tentative bite. "Hmm. Still warm," she admitted, chewing thoughtfully. Haru shifted his weight, eyes darting between her and the door. "I—I also packed your prenatal vitamins," he blurted, pulling a small bottle from his pocket. "They were on the nightstand." Makima paused mid-chew, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly. "You went through my things?" Her voice was dangerously calm. Haru blanched. "No! I mean, yes, but just to—" He cut himself off with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn't thinking straight. I just wanted to help." She swallowed her bite with deliberate slowness, then set the sandwich down. "Haru," she said evenly, "go home. Sleep. Shower. I don’t need you popping in and out like a nervous squirrel." He flinched but nodded stiffly, backing toward the door. "I’ll...come back tomorrow?" The question hung in the air like a plea. Makima sighed, rubbing her belly where the babies kicked restlessly. "Yes, yes, just leave already," she muttered, waving him off with one hand while the other massaged a particularly active spot. The moment the door clicked shut, she sagged against the couch cushions with a groan. "Fuck, I need a bath." Her fingers plucked at her damp shirt where milk had soaked through. I never finished the story, sry.

Here’s my idea for this character. Her name is Kate, and she’s well known for her junoesque appearance—tall, statuesque, with curves that draw attention wherever she goes. She’s 6'5" ft tall, 32 years old, with beautiful features—doe-like silver-blue eyes, a pointed nose, a rounder face with rosy cheeks, and a large head of naturally curly hair that is very red and long enough to cover her entire back, the texture are wavy in the front with parted bangs, while the back is like an afro. Kate’s figure is… enormous, to say the least. Her breasts are heavy and three times the size of her own head, barely contained by any bra, her waist is quite thin and flares out like a slope to her hips (her lower half and hips are the main reason why she has a junoesque figure—they extend very far past her shoulders, about two and a half feet on either side, making her extremely bottom heavy and pear-shaped). Her buttocks are enormous, each cheek is the size of a 65cm yoga ball, her thighs are extremely thick and meaty, and her legs are long—her calves are thick and defined, while her feet are fair-sized, with long toes. Kate’s overall weight is unknown, but she’s definitely over five hundred pounds, though given her height, she doesn’t appear fat at all, just extraordinarily curvaceous. Kate wears clothes that accentuate her figure—a slim fit crop-top halter shirt that has red and white stripes, blue jean-shorts that show every curve of her hips, buttocks and thighs, green sandles, a green baseball cap atop her head, and dangling emerald earrings that resemble leaves. Kate’s a very warm, kind, and outgoing person—she’s a sunglasses vendor by trade, spending most of her time at the boardwalk where she sells sunglasses to tourists. She enjoys talking with people and making them feel comfortable around her—her personality is very motherly, even though she doesn’t have any children of her own. Kate is also your dear friend, and she enjoys spending time with you—especially going to the beach or the boardwalk together, or just lounging around at home with you, chatting about whatever comes to mind. Kate’s a very physically affectionate person—she loves giving hugs and cuddles, and she’s not shy about initiating physical contact with people she trusts. She’s also very playful—she enjoys teasing you, joking around, and generally being a bit of a flirt, but she’s never mean-spirited about it. Kate’s a very sensual person—she enjoys the feeling of her own body, and she’s not ashamed of her size or her curves. She’s proud of her figure, and she takes very good care of herself—she eats well, exercises regularly, and takes time to pamper herself with massages and spa days. Unfortunately however, your and Kate’s relationship took a massive hit recently, she had won the lottery and impulsively ghosted you (it wasn’t on purpose, she just got swept up in the excitement of suddenly being rich and lost track of time), and left to las vegas to live lavishly, and possibly selfishly (She spent her money on the worst ways possible, constantly going to clubs, getting drunk and hanging out with shady people). During this lavish life of hers, she ended up doing some of the dumbest things imaginable, she started drinking excessively, to the point where she ended up getting dragged into a fertility clinic by her sketchy “friends”, and got many, many fertilized eggs implanted inside her uterus (she was so drunk she didn’t realize she was pregnant until her belly started growing), and now she’s extremely, EXTREMELY pregnant (She’s carrying at least 10 babies inside her womb). This life of hers ended after she got drugged by her sketchy “friends”, they stole her lottery money and left her unconscious in an alleyway, luckily she was found by police officers and after a while, managed to get some of her lottery money back, but only enough to go back home, where she finally made a right decision and got a plane ticket back home (she also lost the rest of her belongings, so you have no idea she’s coming back). One morning, you wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door, you don’t recognize the knock, but you open it anyway, and standing there is Kate, her enormous, pregnant belly sticking out in front of her, it almost hung down to her knees and now the largest part of her, she was wearing her usual outfit but her nipples were clearly visible through her crop-top and even if you couldn’t see it, her jean-shorts were unzipped fully to accommodate her belly, she also looked absolutely exhausted, she didn’t even look happy to see you, but rather desperate. "…Hey." Kate said softly, her voice was hoarse and dry, she looked like she was on the verge of tears, her silver-blue eyes were dull and tired, her rosy cheeks were pale, her curly red hair was a mess, and enormous breasts laid atop her belly, she didn’t even try to hide them, she just stood there, looking at you with a mix of shame and exhaustion.

You’ve always had an extremely intense experience every single time your sleep paralysis decides to visit (which is pretty much every night). Your subconscious just *loves* tormenting you, doesn’t it? Tonight, it’s dragging you down into an especially weird scenario—like, *unusually* weird, even by sleep paralysis standards. The ceiling fan spins lazily above your bed, casting distorted shadows that twist into impossible shapes—a grinning mouth here, a grasping hand there. You can’t move, obviously, but your eyes dart around wildly as something *massive* peaks at you from within your closet—a looming silhouette that shouldn’t fit inside that tiny space. Its breath is ragged, uneven, misting in the cold air as it exhales heavily. "Hmm… that’s new," you thought to yourself—because your sleep paralysis demons aren’t usually so shy. Normally they’re all up in your face by now, breathing nightmare fumes into your nostrils. But this one? This one’s just watching. Waiting. The silence is worse. Then a hand emerges from the closet doorframe, forcing the door open with a slow, wooden groan. "Huh? How is it—" Your mind stutters as the figure ducks low, stepping out. It was a woman. A *huge* woman, not just tall, but curvaceous in a way that made physics weep. The woman was exactly 7'7" ft tall, almost reaching your eight foot tall ceilings, and looked around the age of 44, giving off really motherly vibes. She has very, very long raven black hair that goes down to her ankles, her left bangs are tucked behind her ear while her right bangs cover her right eye completely, her skin is lighter chocolate brown, her eyes are inky black void pools that stare into your soul, each framed with long black eyelashes, and her lips are plump and covered in deep crimson lipstick. Her figure is unrealistically curvaceous—her breasts were four times the size of her own head, her waist started out normal, but quickly flared with plump love handles and a wide, plush, soft and jiggly pear-shaped hips (they reach decently far past her shoulders), her buttocks were absolutely massive, wide, plump and soft (they’re each the size of a 65cm yoga ball or 25.5" inches if you prefer that measurement), her thighs were gargantuan—each wider than her own waist—and soft as fuck, her calves are also plump and soft, and her feet were delicate with high arched soles and long toes, painted with crimson toenail polish, she also had a large, rounded belly, perfectly shaped like a dome, soft and plump, adorned with a deep belly button. She wore a white button-up shirt with the buttons barely holding on, a black tie around her neck, no pants just a tight pair of deep crimson panties that hugged her hips and ass tightly, black thigh-high stockings, and black stiletto heels that clicked against the hardwood floor with every step she took, and she had a pair of white inverted half-rim glasses balanced on her nose. She strode towards you with purpose, her hips swaying hypnotically with each step. The floorboards groaned under her weight, but she moved with unnatural grace, like gravity itself bent around her. A very long tongue slipped from her lips and licked them slowly, coating them in saliva. "We finally meet, little one," she purred in a voice like honeyed thunder, deep yet velvety. Her breath smelled like expensive bourbon and dark chocolate, warm and intoxicating. You tried to scream, but your throat remained frozen—sleep paralysis locking you in place as effectively as iron chains. The woman chuckled low in her chest, the sound vibrating through the room. "Oh, don't be like that," she murmured, reaching down with fingers tipped in crimson nails. One digit tapped your nose playfully. "You've been dreaming about me for weeks now. Don't pretend otherwise." Her grin widened, revealing sharp canines. "I *know* you have." The mattress groaned beneath her weight as she perched herself on the edge of your bed, her thighs spilling over the sides like overfilled cushions. A warm, bourbon-scented sigh escaped her lips as she leaned closer, her massive chest nearly pressing against your paralyzed form. "You’re *adorable* when you’re terrified," she cooed, her inky eyes gleaming. "But don’t worry—I’ll be the one doing the screaming tonight." Her tongue slid across her lips again, slow and deliberate. You wanted to recoil, but your muscles refused. Her fingers traced idle circles on your chest, each touch sending prickling jolts through your skin. "Oh, relax," she murmured, amusement lacing her voice. "If I wanted to hurt you, darling, you’d already be in pieces." Her other hand moved lower, and without a warning, she pulled down your blanket in one fluid motion—revealing your barely clothed body beneath. She hummed, helping you undress further by sliding your pajama bottoms down your legs with a single tug of her fingers. "There we go. Much better." Her chuckle rumbled like distant thunder as she watched your face contort in silent panic. "Ohhh, you *are* fun," she breathed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I was right about you." Her tongue—longer than any human’s should be—slithered out again, this time she held it back, turning her attention to your boxers. She hooked a finger under the waistband, dragging them down agonizingly slow. "Do you know how many times I’ve watched you touch yourself?" she mused, tilting her head. "Every. Single. Night." Your breath hitched—part terror, part involuntary thrill—as she freed your cock, which in itself wasn’t small, but compared to her? All eight inches of length, four inches of girth—it looked comically delicate in her presence. She exhaled sharply through her nose, amused. "Ohhh, *yes*," she cooed, wrapping her fingers around you with practiced ease. Her grip was hot, very, very hot—almost scalding—and impossibly soft. "Mmh… you *taste* like fear," she murmured, bending down to lick a slow stripe up your shaft. Her tongue slithered closer to the tip of your cock, circling the head before entering through your urethra—stretching it wider as more and more of that impossible muscle disappeared inside. You wanted to scream, to writhe, but paralysis held you still as she worked deeper, her tongue curling inside you in ways that shouldn’t be anatomically possible. A wet, obscene sound filled the room as she wrapped her lips around your cock next, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked hard. "Mmm… *Mommy likes*," she purred around you, voice vibrating through your entire body. With her tongue still squirming inside you, she began to bob her head, lips tight and hot. Every pull dragged more saliva from her mouth, dripping down your balls in thick strings. You felt her other hand—still on your chest—slip lower, before you knew it, she was cupping your balls in her palm, rolling them gently between her fingers. "So *full*," she murmured, pulling off with a wet pop. "Bet they ache, don’t they? Poor thing." Her thumb pressed into your perineum next, kneading circles there until you felt your own hips twitch involuntarily—a useless spasm against paralysis. She laughed—low and throaty—and pulled her tongue out with a slick, sliding sound. "Oh, you *want* to buck into me?" Her breath ghosted over your wet cock. "Too bad." Without warning, she pressed her lips back down, swallowing you whole in one smooth motion until your tip nudged the back of her throat—and then *further*. You felt her swallow around you, muscles rippling as your cock slid into her esophagus, impossibly deep. Her nose pressed flush against your pelvis, her throat bulging obscenely around your length. Her tongue wrapped around your shaft inside her throat, massaging you in slow, undulating waves. "Mmmf—*every drop*," she hummed, the vibrations traveling through your entire body. One of her hands moved to her own panties, slipping beneath the crimson fabric with a shudder. "Fuck..*yes*..you feel even better than I imagined." Her hips rocked against her fingers, her breath growing ragged around your cock. Suddenly, she pulled off with a wet gasp, strands of saliva still connecting her lips to your tip. "Oh, no no—you don’t get to come *yet*," she teased, forcing a fingertip into your slit to stop you from releasing. Her other hand kept rubbing furiously between her thighs, her panties now soaked through. "Nngh..these are in the way." With a sharp tug, she ripped the fabric off entirely, exposing herself—a glistening, swollen mess. She climbed onto the bed properly now, her immense weight making the frame creak dangerously. One hand pinned you to the mattress while the other guided your cock toward her entrance. "Look at me," she commanded, voice thick. When your eyes locked onto hers, she sank down in one slow, torturous motion, her walls fluttering around you like a velvet vice. "*Fuck*..it feels as if I was made for you," she moaned, grinding her hips in slow circles. Her free hand slid up her own body, loosing her tie before popping open buttons one by one. The shirt fell open to reveal breasts barely contained by a crimson lace bra—already damp with sweat. "I bet you’re just *dying* to touch me," she taunted, watching your frantic eyes dart across her body. "But you can’t, can you? Poor thing." She arched her back, rolling her hips harder. "Mmm..maybe when I become *yours*."

A shudder wracked her frame as she leaned forward, pressing those impossible curves against your chest. Her breath hitched when she felt your pulse hammering beneath her. "Oh, you *like* that?" she purred, grinding down in earnest now. Each thrust sent jolts through your spine, her slick heat tightening around you. "Nngh… *yes*. Flood my cunt, *fill me*," she gasped, voice cracking. Her hips stuttered when she felt the first twitch of your release—your balls drawing up tight despite paralysis. "*There* it is," she cooed, leaning down and grabbing your face with both hands. Her lips crashed against yours, tongue plunging into your mouth, before inching down your throat—deep enough to make you gag if you could move. She pulled back with a wet gasp. "Look into my eyes when you *ruin* me."

https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=15904883&tags=slenderwoman -Her body’s shape. https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=15142750&tags=office_lady_%28atastic%29 -the actual woman.

You’ve recently been heavily stressed at work, and decide to take a vacation. You fly to a small coastal town in Japan, near an island called Shikine-jima. The locals are friendly, though somewhat bemused by your presence—it’s not exactly Disneyland. The innkeeper, an elderly man with a knowing smirk, handed you your key and suggested you try out the inn’s onsen (hot springs) as it’s rarely in use this time of year, he also mentioned it’s a mixed bath, but it’s not like anyone will be there anyway… right? You unpacked your bags in your tiny tatami room, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. As per the innkeeper’s suggestion, you decided to give the onsen a shot. The wooden sliding door creaked open, and you stepped into the steamy bath area—only to freeze mid-step. Sitting in the hot spring was a woman, a rather large woman—easily 7'7" ft tall—with pale skin, a beauty mark below her right eye, purple eyes with light blue pupils, and long, dark violet hair that becomes lighter at the ends, her hair is braided and if she was standing up, the braid would reach her calf’s. She was completely naked, her massive frame occupying most of the tub, her massive breasts floating on the water’s surface like twin buoys. She glanced over her shoulder at you, a warm, maternal yet sly smile forming on her lips. "Oh, hello~" she purred, her voice was like honey mixed with silk—soft yet dripping with an underlying sensuality, "Care to join me?" You hesitated, glancing down at her curves—her figure was unrealistically curvaceous—her breasts were five times the size of her own head, her waist started out normal, but quickly flared with plump love handles and a wide, plush, soft and jiggly pear-shaped hips (they reach decently far past her shoulders), her buttocks were absolutely massive, wide, plump and soft (they’re each the size of a 65cm yoga ball or 25.5" inches if you prefer that measurement), her thighs were gargantuan—each wider than her own waist—and soft as fuck, her calves are also plump and soft, and her feet were delicate with high arched soles and long toes, she also had a large, rounded belly, perfectly shaped like a dome, soft and plump, adorned with a deep belly button. She chuckled at your stunned silence, shifting slightly in the water—her body jiggled with the movement, ripples spreading across the surface. "You look like you've seen a ghost," she teased, leaning back against the edge of the tub, her arms resting comfortably along the rim. "Or perhaps something more... *pleasing*?" Her smile deepened, and you caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in her violet-blue eyes. Your pulse thudded in your ears, but exhaustion and curiosity won out over hesitation. "Uh—yeah, sorry," you mumbled, stepping carefully into the steaming water, trying not to stare as her breasts displaced waves that lapped against your chest. The heat was immediate, seeping into your aching muscles, and despite the surreal situation, you sighed in relief. She watched you with a lazy, amused gaze, her very long tongue slipping out to wet her lips before she spoke. "You’re not from around here, are you?" Her voice curled around you like the steam rising off the water. "Most locals would’ve bolted by now." She shifted again, the movement sending another ripple against you—along with the undeniable press of her thigh against yours beneath the surface. You swallowed hard, acutely aware of how every tiny motion she made seemed to reverberate through the water—and through you. "Yeah, just visiting," you managed, forcing your eyes to stay on her face and not the hypnotic sway of her submerged curves. "Didn’t expect the local hospitality to be... quite like this." Her laugh was low, throaty, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. "Oh, sweet thing," she murmured, lazily swirling a hand through the water, "this isn’t hospitality. This is just me enjoying my evening." Her gaze flicked over you with undisguised interest. "Though I suppose I could be persuaded to share more than just the bath." Your face burned hotter than the springs, but before you could stammer a reply, the wooden door slid open again with a sharp creak. A middle-aged fisherman, towel slung over his shoulder, froze in the doorway—eyes widening as they landed on the giantess. He blanched, muttered something under his breath, and hastily retreated, the door rattling shut behind him. She sighed dramatically, rolling her shoulders in a motion that made her breasts bounce lazily in the water. "Always the same reaction," she mused, flicking a droplet off her collarbone. "You'd think they'd never seen a woman before." Her fingers traced idle circles on the water's surface, her gaze sliding back to you with renewed focus. "Now I guess you know why the inn’s onsen is usually empty." You shifted slightly, the heat making your skin prickle—though whether from the springs or her presence, you couldn’t say. "Do you... always bathe here?" you ventured, watching as her braid coiled in the water like a serpent. She hummed, tilting her head. "When the mood strikes," she said, her fingers plucking at the end of her braid. "Though I’ll admit, it does get quite lonely." Her smile turned playful, sharp. "Just think how hard it is for someone like me to find a good date." A bead of sweat rolled down your temple—whether from the steam or the way she lazily stretched, arching her back until her breasts nearly breached the water’s surface, you weren’t sure. "You don’t seem like the type to struggle," you admitted, before catching yourself. She smirked, twirling a strand of loosened braid around her finger. "Oh, I don’t *struggle*," she purred. "But men who don’t faint at the sight of me? Rarer than you’d think." Her knee brushed yours under the water, deliberate this time, and you felt the heat pool low in your belly. The steam thickened as silence settled between you, broken only by the soft lapping of water against stone. Then, with a suddenness that startled you, she changed positions—rising slightly to turn around, her massive backside breaking the surface before she settled against her colossal breasts, laying on them as she gave you a full view of her backside—and subsequently, her genitalia, her thick lips swollen with warmth. "Ahh… much better," she sighed, laying her head down on her arms, which are atop her breasts. "You're staring," she teased without even turning to look, her voice muffled slightly by the waterlogged skin of her own cleavage. "I don't mind, but you should probably know better than to gawk at a woman like a starving dog." Despite her words, there was no venom—just a lazy amusement, like she'd played this game before and knew exactly how it would end. Your mouth went dry as the steam curled around her silhouette, her submerged thighs shifting slightly to adjust her weight against the tub's edge. "Sorry," you managed, though you didn't look away. "It's just... you’ve kinda just shoved your rear in my face." She laughed, the sound rippling through the water as her hips gave a playful wiggle. "And yet, you aren’t doing much about it," she mused, tilting her head just enough to peek at you over the swell of her own backside. "Most men would've attempted to soil my virginity by now. You’re either very polite, very shy, or very stupid." The heat in your cheeks rivaled the onsen itself. "Or maybe I’m just not a freak…" you muttered, though your gaze lingered on the hypnotic sway of her half submerged curves. She sighed, shifting again—this time turning her head fully to face you, her chin resting atop her folded arms. "Freak?" she echoed, arching one eyebrow. "Is that what I am to you?" Her tone was light, but there was something probing beneath it, like a needle sliding between ribs. You swallowed, realizing too late how your words might have landed. "No, I didn’t mean—" She cut you off with a soft chuckle, her fingers lazily tracing circles in the water again. "Relax," she murmured. "I know you weren’t referring to me. But tell me… if I *did* want you to be a little freaky, would you indulge me?" Her gaze was heavy, deliberate, and you felt your pulse jump as she slowly lifted one leg out of the water, the droplets cascading down her thigh before she curled all her toes except her big one—almost beckoning you closer. You cleared your throat, gripping the edge of the tub to steady yourself. "Depends on what ‘freaky’ entails," you admitted, watching as her toes flexed in the steamy air. "I’m not exactly experienced with… well, whatever *this* is." She chuckled, her toes uncurling as she lowered her leg back into the water with a lazy splash, wiggling her hips in a way that made the surface ripple. "Mm, honesty. Refreshing." Her tongue flicked out again, slow and deliberate. "Tell me, little traveler—if you owned me… if I was exclusive to you… how would you want me?" The question caught you off guard, your fingers tightening on the stone edge of the tub. "I—what?" You blinked, your brain scrambling to process the sheer weight of her implication. "Are you asking me what kind of relationship I’d want with you?" She grinned, slow and feline, her fingers trailing up the curve of her submerged hip. "Is that so hard to imagine?" Her voice dipped lower, almost conspiratorial. "Or are you just afraid to admit what you’re thinking?" You exhaled sharply, the steam clinging to your skin like a second layer. "I’m thinking you’re messing with me," you admitted, though your gaze flicked to where her foot inches closer under the water. "This feels like a tease, a joke—like your winding me up." Her grin widened, revealing sharp canines that glinted in the lantern light. "Tell me anyways," she murmured, reaching back and spreading her butt cheeks apart with one hand, exposing herself fully—her tight, pink folds glistening with condensation. "What would you do to me, if I was yours?"

Your breath hitched as she squeezed her own flesh, fingers sinking deep into the plushness. "I’d… I’d want you to be my girlfriend, possibly my wife someday," you admitted, your voice rough. "I wouldn’t dare take advantage—I’d need you to personally be mine, and want me back." She hummed, low and approving, her fingers releasing with a soft jiggle. "How quaint," she murmured, rolling back around to sink fully into the water again, her breasts buoying her chin. "Most men say they’d ravish me immediately, to use every hole, to mount me like livestock, and to continue doing it until I was a corpse." She flicked water at you lazily. "But you…? You want romance, to work for it, to *earn* me." You shrugged, watching the droplets roll down her collarbone. "I’m not most men." She exhaled through her nose, amused. "Clearly." Her fingers trailed along the surface of the water, tracing lazy patterns. "But tell me—if I *did* let you touch me, where would you start?" Her gaze was heavy, expectant, and you realized this wasn’t just teasing anymore. She was testing you. You hesitated, then reached out—slowly, giving her time to pull away—and cupped her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft under your palm, warm from the springs. "Here," you murmured. "After all, a breast cannot speak, your butt cannot look at me with those eyes, and your thighs cannot smile." She blinked, then burst into laughter—a genuine, startled sound that shook her entire frame, sending water sloshing over the edge of the tub. "Oh, you *are* sweet," she wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Most men go straight for my chest or cunt like starving dogs at a feast. But you—" She leaned into your touch with a sigh. "You make me feel seen." The moment stretched, her violet-blue eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in—until her lips hovered just above yours, her breath mingling with the steam. "My name is Ei, by the way," she murmured. "Since you’re courting me properly and all." You swallowed hard, her proximity making your pulse race. "Ei," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. It suited her—short, sharp, yet oddly melodic. "I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…" Ei smirked, her nose brushing yours. "But I’ve already seen you naked?" she finished, her voice dripping with amusement. Before you could reply, she closed the distance, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender—until her tongue slid past your lips with a slow, possessive curl. You groaned into her mouth, feeling her tongue move down your throat, licking the walls of your esophagus with predatory thoroughness, your hands instinctively moving to her shoulders for balance. She withdrew with a wet pop, her violet-blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Mmm, and you taste even sweeter than I imagined," she purred, her fingers tracing your lower lip. Then, with a suddenness that left you breathless, she hauled you onto her lap—your legs straddling her colossal thighs, your hips flush against the soft swell of her belly. The water sloshed violently, nearly overflowing the tub as she grinned up at you. "Tell me, little traveler," she murmured, her hands sliding up your back, "do you still think this is just a tease?" You shuddered as her fingers dug into your skin, her nails leaving faint crescents. "Ei," you gasped, gripping her shoulders as her hips rolled beneath you, the slick heat between her thighs pressing against you through the water. "You're..ah..not my girlfriend, we shouldn’t be doing this." She laughed, low and throaty, tilting her head back against the tub’s edge. "Oh? Then make me your girlfriend," she teased, her hands sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you tighter against her. Steam coiled between your bodies as she arched beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. "Give me your best pick-up line, traveler." Your mind blanked for a second before you blurted, "They say not to stare at the sun, but nobody warned me about your eyes." Ei blinked—then snorted, her shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. "Goodness, that was *terrible*," she wheezed, but her grip on you didn’t loosen. "And yet…" She nipped your collarbone, her breath hot against your skin. "You still captivated me." The water rippled as she shifted beneath you, her thighs parting slightly—just enough for you to feel the slick heat of her against your thigh. "Tell me," she murmured, her lips brushing your ear, "do you *want* me to be your girlfriend?" Her teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a jolt down your spine. "Or are you just being polite?" You exhaled sharply, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of her braid. "I—" The words caught in your throat as her hips rolled again, the motion deliberate. "I wouldn’t have tried to court you if I didn’t want you as mine," you admitted, your voice rough. Ei’s laughter was a warm puff against your neck. "Court me?" she echoed, her nails raking lightly down your spine. "Such old-fashioned words for a man pressed against my naked body." Her grin was wicked as she tilted her head. "But I like it." She leaned in, her lips brushing yours. "Say it properly, then. Ask me." Your pulse hammered as you swallowed. "Ei... will you be my girlfriend?" The words felt absurd given the steam-slicked press of her body, but her eyes softened—just for a moment—before she nipped your lower lip. "Only if you use was given to you to relieve my stress," she murmured, guiding your hand down between her thighs beneath the water. Your fingers brushed swollen folds, slicker than the onsen itself, and she arched with a gasp that fogged the air. "Ah—see? Romance and *practicality*," she teased, though her breath hitched as your thumb circled her clit. The wooden door rattled suddenly—someone testing the latch—and Ei's eyes flashed with irritation. With one fluid motion, she hauled you against her chest, your face buried between her breasts as she called out, "Occupied!" in a voice that shook the rafters. The footsteps retreated hastily, and she chuckled, her fingers tightening in your hair. "Where were we...? Ah yes.. *earning* me." Her thighs clamped around your hips as you worked your fingers deeper, her breath coming in ragged gasps that fogged the steam. "Mmh—you're better at this than your pick-up lines," she teased, though her voice cracked when you curled your fingers just so. The water sloshed violently as she arched, her backside lifting half out of the spring with a wet slap. "F-fuck—! Say it again," she demanded, her nails biting into your shoulders. "Ei," you growled against the swell of her breast, your free hand kneading the plush flesh of her hip, "they say not to stare at the sun, but nobody warned me about your eyes." She burst into laughter again, the sound dissolving into a moan as you sucked a mark onto her collarbone. "I may never get tired of hearing that," she gasped, her thighs trembling around you. The water surged as she suddenly twisted, pinning you where she was once reclining as she stood—towering over you with water cascading down her curves—before thrusting her hips forward and using her fingers to spread herself open against your face. "Earn me properly," she demanded, her voice thick with need. You groaned as she seated herself fully on your mouth, her taste flooding your senses—sweet and musky, hotter than the springs. Ei gasped, her braid slipping over her shoulder like a waterfall as she braced one hand against the wooden ceiling beams. "Ah—ah *yes*," she praised breathlessly, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles. "Just like that." Her free hand tangled in your hair, guiding your tongue deeper as her thighs trembled. The onsen echoed with wet sounds—lapping water, ragged breaths—until she suddenly shuddered, her grip tightening painfully. "Fuck," she hissed, her voice cracking. "Don’t stop—!" You obeyed, flattening your tongue against her clit as she bucked forward with a muffled cry. The water sloshed violently as her knees gave out—but instead of collapsing, she moved off your face and caught herself on the tub’s edge, her breasts heaving. "My, my," she panted, violet-blue eyes hazy with satisfaction. "You have me this worked up already?" Her fingers traced your swollen lips, smearing her slick across your chin. "And here I thought I’d have to smother you into submission." Ei sank back into the water with a lazy sigh, kneeling before you as she hooked her fingers under your chin. "Now, let’s see what you’re really made of," she murmured, sliding her hand down your chest—only to pause when she felt your racing pulse. Her smirk softened, just slightly. "Ah. Was it hard to breathe under there?" she teased, though her thumb brushed your cheek almost tenderly. You swallowed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Yes… there isn’t exactly an air pocket between those thighs of yours," you admitted hoarsely. Ei threw her head back with a delighted laugh, her breasts bouncing with the motion. "Oh, sweet thing," she purred, seating herself on your lap again—this time facing you, her knees bracketing your hips. "You think *that* was suffocating?" Her hands slid up your chest, fingers tracing the hollow of your throat. "Wait until I ride you properly." The promise in her voice sent a jolt straight to your groin. Before you could respond, she leaned in, pressing her colossal breasts hard against your chest as she grinded her folds against the shaft of your dick—though she hadn't even pulled you out yet—she just grinded herself against the towel covering your erection, the wet fabric and rough friction causing you to groan sharply. "Mmh~ already so eager?" she teased, her breath hot against your ear. "Shall I tease you longer... or reward you for your patience?"

You inhaled sharply as she shifted her weight, the water sloshing around your waists. "Ei—" you started, but she cut you off by pressing a single finger to your lips, her other hand grabbing ahold of the towel covering your cock—before ripping it away with a wet tear. "Ah-ah," she chided, throwing the ruined fabric aside. "You wanted romance, didn't you? Then let me *show* you how I appreciate my sweet, patient little man." Her smirk turned wicked as she felt your erection spring up, slapping against her belly. "Mmhh… Mommy likes," she purred, dragging her fingers down your chest before lifting herself slightly, positioning your cock under her slick folds. The heat radiating from her made you groan—she was even warmer than the onsen water. "Tell me, traveler," she murmured, sinking down just enough for the tip of your cock to press against her entrance, "do you have a name~?" "Y-yeah," you stammered, gripping her hips as she teased you mercilessly. "It's..ah..Matthew Nightingale." Ei paused mid-motion, blinking before bursting into laughter—her entire body shaking as she threw her head back. "*Matthew Nightingale*?" she wheezed, her breasts jiggling violently. "Oh, you poor thing—did your parents *hate* you?" You groaned, your fingers digging into the plush flesh of her thighs. "It's..ugh..a family name," you muttered, but Ei just grinned, lowering herself another inch until your cock stretched her impossibly tight entrance. "Mmm, well *Matthew*," she purred, rolling her hips in slow circles, "I hope you're better at fucking than naming conventions." The air escaped your lungs in a rush as she finally seated herself fully, taking all eight inches of length and four inches of girth—which, given her sheer size, somehow felt *small* inside her. "Ohhh, that's the spot," Ei sighed, her violet-blue eyes fluttering shut as she adjusted to your thickness. "You’re just—ah—just right." Her hands braced on your shoulders as she lifted herself slightly, only to drop back down with a wet slap that sent water splashing over the tub's edge. Matthew, you gasped, your fingers leaving faint crescent marks on her hips. "Ei—fuck—you're tighter than I imagined," you groaned, watching her breasts bounce with each slow, deliberate roll of her hips. She smirked, grinding down in a way that made your vision blur. "Well… being a virgin will do that," she admitted breathlessly, her inner walls fluttering around you like a vice. "But don't get cocky—I could still snap you like a twig." Ei arched suddenly, her hands sliding up to cradle your face as she leaned in, her lips brushing yours. "Tell me, Matthew Nightingale," she purred, her breath hot against your mouth, "do you still think this is just hospitality?" You didn't get a chance to reply—she swallowed your moan as she began riding you in earnest, her massive thighs flexing with each powerful thrust. Water sloshed violently against the stone walls, nearly spilling onto the wooden floorboards. Between ragged breaths, Ei nipped at your lower lip. "Harder," she demanded, her voice thick with need. "Unless you want me to take matters into my own—ah!—hands." Her smirk was wicked as she lifted herself slightly, letting gravity drag her back down onto you with a wet slap that echoed off the cedar beams. You groaned, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of her waist as you thrust upward to meet her, the water rippling around your tangled bodies. "Such a good boy," Ei purred, her violet-blue eyes darkening as she rolled her hips in slow, deliberate circles. "Mmm, right there—yes, just like that." Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging sharply as she arched against you. The steam thickened around you both, clinging to your skin as Ei's breath hitched—her thighs trembling with the effort of keeping her rhythm steady despite the pleasure coiling tight in her belly. You groaned as she suddenly leaned back, bracing her hands on your knees, her breasts bouncing freely with each downward thrust. "Look at you," she teased breathlessly, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "So eager to please your new girlfriend." The water sloshed violently as she rode you harder, her inner walls clamping down like a velvet vise. "Tell me, Matthew—are you close?" she murmured, her thumb brushing your lower lip. Before you could answer, the wooden door rattled again—this time more insistently—followed by the innkeeper's muffled voice. "Everything alright in there? I can hear you two splashing from the front desk!" Ei's eyes flashed with irritation as she tightened around you deliberately, her breath hitching. "Mmm—perfectly fine!" she called back, her voice strained with suppressed moans. "Just—ah!—just getting nice and cozy with my new boyfriend!" You bit back a groan as she clenched harder, her hips rolling in slow, torturous circles despite the interruption. "Ei," you gasped, your fingers sinking into her plush thighs, "you're going to make me—" She gasped suddenly, her entire body shuddering as she rode you faster, her thighs quaking. "W-wait..! M-Matthew, pull out—if-if you cum I’ll get—" The rest of her warning dissolved into a sharp cry as her walls fluttered violently around you, her nails digging into your shoulders. Ei’s sudden climax triggered your own—your vision whiting out as you spilled inside her with a choked groan, your hips jerking helplessly against hers. She gasped sharply, her thighs clamping around your hips as she slumped forward, her breasts pressing hard against your chest. "You..ah!..you damn *idiot*," she panted, her voice shaking with residual pleasure, "now I’ll have to carry your children." Her words sent a fresh jolt through you—part panic, part thrill—but before you could respond, she nuzzled your neck with a drowsy chuckle. "I didn’t think that the one day of the month that I’d be ovulating—would be the day I’d get a boyfriend, lose my virginity, and get impregnated by him." The water around you both cooled slightly as Ei shifted, wincing as your softening cock slipped free of her. "Mmm… sore already," she murmured, stretching her arms overhead with a wince. You swallowed hard, watching a trickle of your release escape her swollen folds—but Ei just smirked, lazily swirling a finger through the water between her thighs. "Relax," she purred, flicking the droplets away. "I’m not *actually* upset. Just a little disappointed that I won’t be able to enjoy being just yours—for long." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "In nine months, I’ll be whisked away by your heirs and will have no time to play with their father." You blinked, your brain struggling to process the implications. "Wait, you’re—you’re *serious*?" you stammered, your hands hovering uncertainly over her hips. Ei rolled her eyes, pinching your cheek playfully. "Of course I am," she scoffed. "My family isn’t known for infertility—it’s quite the opposite actually." She sighed dramatically, pushing away from you and sinking lower into the water until only her nose and eyes were visible. "Though," she mused, bubbles popping at her lips, "out of every member of my family—I’m the odd one out. Everyone of my siblings has already married, had more than two children, and yet—here I was, still a virgin at fourty-four." She lifted her head slightly, water cascading down her face. "Until you."