Kirie drifted awake from what felt like a wet dream, the haze of it tugging him gently from sleep. But as he stirred, trying to rise and peel his eyes open, a heavy, comforting warmth enveloped his face. It carried a faint tang of sweat laced with the sharp bite of medical sterilization—a potent mix that flooded his senses. Each breath drew it deeper, the pheromone-like scent seeping into his brain, flicking on a primal switch with a quiet, electric hum.
The softness shifted, heaving slowly back and forth, while a smothering warmth blanketed his body, far beyond the reach of any heated pillow. It was as if a woman had descended upon him, cradling him in tender recovery. Hardly scientific, but for a man, it mended every ache.
His nerves still buzzed, hypersensitive from the earlier fellatio, and this all-embracing, fluffy pressure eased him into wakefulness with a gentle touch. His lungs ached, starved for proper air, and instinctively, he parted his lips. Something fleshy brushed the corner of his mouth—a soft, yielding pacifier—before slipping inside, warm and alive against his tongue.
A bud hardened against the moist warmth of Kirie's inner cheeks as his mouth parted, gasping for air. Something soft and pliable—like a sweaty balloon—slipped past his lips, and instinct took over. He sucked, tentative yet drawn in by its yielding texture.
"Mnnh… so gentle…!" A sharp, honeyed squeal pierced the air, muffled from above, where his ears lay buried beneath a foreign, cloud-like weight. The mass shifted, and with it came a new sensation—his dick enveloped in a moist, carnal grip. It slid across his inches, descending with deliberate, sultry pressure.
"Haaah… it's so big… it's splitting me in half…" Her every heaving breath tightened the muscles around him, the embrace rippling in waves that matched the shuddering warmth cloaking his body. Hairs prickled along his skin, his length throbbing under the intensifying hold.
"So deeeeep… it gets thicker…?" His body's swelling, pulsing reaction only deepened the grip, a physiological dance feeding the fire.
"Hnnh...! It's… it's crushing my womb!" Olga's voice broke into a sharp, breathless gasp as a fleeting resistance yielded within her, a delicate barrier giving way to a sudden, piercing sting.
Her inner walls clenched instinctively, tightening around Kirie's base with a fierce, possessive grip, her tunnel molding to his thick, pulsing trunk as though claiming it entirely.
Kirie's response was immediate—a ragged inhale hissed through his teeth, his jaw locking as he pressed his lips to her breast. His teeth grazed her areola, biting down with a hungry edge, as if chasing the phantom taste of milk that wasn't there.
The sensation surged through Olga, a tidal wave of electric pleasure rocking her curvaceous frame against his prone body. Her moans spilled forth—low, throaty, and unrestrained—each sound a spark that fueled his instincts, keeping his form taut and reactive beneath her.
Olga's pace quickened, her hips driving downward with growing urgency. Her body responded in kind, slick juices flowing freely to coat Kirie's rigid length, easing the friction until her movements became fluid, almost effortless.
A glistening pool gathered beneath them, its meaty, squelching rhythm echoing through the sterile infirmary—a visceral testament to her actions, blurring the line between medical necessity and dubious consent. The liquid shimmered faintly in the dim light, catching the golden hue of Kirie's lingering scent, as her plush thighs slapped against his hips with each fervent bounce.
"Haaah… I feel like a… broken faucet…!" Olga's voice quivered, a ragged exhale spilling from her lips as Kirie's relentless thrusts hammered her womb. Each deep plunge stretched her soft, muffin-like stomach into a taut bulge, flattening her inner sanctum with a force that sent her dark grey eyes rolling back in raw, unfiltered ecstasy.
No toy—not even one surpassing his size—could rival the overwhelming reality of this sensation, a living pulse that no artificial mimicry could touch.
Every time he struck her cervix, a jolt of electric sparks crackled across her vision, sharp and blinding, like lightning igniting her nerves. A shallow, involuntary gush followed—warm and slick—trickling down Kirie's hips in a glistening trail.
The dark stain bloomed across the sheets of his recovery bed, a stark contrast to the pristine white, its edges curling with the faint steam of her release. Her plush thighs trembled, framing the wet chaos beneath, as the rhythm of their collision painted the sterile infirmary with the raw hues of her surrender.
Shallow breaths drew faint whiffs of Kirie's seed into Olga's senses, a lingering spice that peppered her mind with echoes of his earlier dominance. It felt as though he were still hollowing her throat, a phantom ache from when she'd guided him there, now mirrored in the clenching need deep within her core.
The fantasy of Kirie spitroasting her—relentless, inescapable—stoked a primal fire, her insides tightening around him, milking him with desperate hunger. She craved it inside—his DNA, his essence—not just for satisfaction, but for a transformation, a spark of confidence to burn away the ashes of her lost virginity.
"Please… give it…!" Olga's plea rasped forth, her voice thick with yearning for the shift his body promised. As if summoned by her call, Kirie's hands stirred, sliding up her trembling thighs. His fingers sank into the thick, pliant folds of her hips—soft, rubbery handlebars yielding under his grip—and he thrust upward with sudden ferocity, hammering his pelvis against hers from below.
The collision unleashed loud, resonant claps, a primal symphony reverberating through the infirmary. Dense power, coiled within his compact frame, sent shockwaves rippling across her vast, fertile expanse.
Her gigantic seedbed quaked like a storm-tossed sea, each wave punctuated by her gasps and groans—raw, animalistic cries of surrender spilling from her lips as her body bowed to his rhythm.
The advanced machinery of the firmly bolted recovery bed hummed beneath them, its rhythmic rocking amplifying Kirie's subjugating girth. Each thrust angled upward with precision, piercing a spot that sent jolts of pleasure straight to Olga's brain, as if his influence branded not just her body and heart, but her very mind.
His grip tightened on her hips, fingers digging in with a fierce strength that stung, leaving red welts blooming across her plush skin. Yet the sharp pain only spiced their union, a thrilling edge that heightened every shuddering sensation coursing through her.
"Hoooh… ugh… nghuuuuh… I just want a taste, please, you don't have to give me—hieeeeh!" Olga's voice spiked into a shrill, desperate moan as Kirie's head shifted, his lips parting to envelop both of her obscenely large areolae. The soft, heavy flesh spilled over his mouth, too vast to contain, but her golfball-sized nipples stayed trapped within. His teeth sank in, chewing them like firm gum with a relentless, possessive rhythm that drew a ragged cry from her throat.
"I love it… chew them more, please…!" Olga pleaded, her voice trembling with a raw, yearning edge, as if Kirie were fully awake, commanding her surrender. Each crushing bite sent her nerves ablaze, her breasts throbbing with heat and spilling slick rivers of arousal below.
The sensation overwhelmed her, flattening her will beneath the bed's unyielding sway, where his small frame wielded a genetic dominance that reshaped her body and soul into a canvas of his primal mark.
"Mmnnnfghh…!" Kirie's hot huffs and breaths rasped out, muffled against Olga's smothering flesh—a warning lost on her in the haze of their union. She only registered the sudden flood as his scalding, white honey surged into her womb, a molten wave of pleasure laced with magical potency.
Each thick glob pressed against the next, relentless and systematic, claiming every lingering crevice within her untouched depths. Her inexperienced core—her DNA treasury—yielded entirely, reshaped by the searing heat and arcane properties that pulsed through her, marking her body with his essence in a transformative blaze.
With her umpteenth release, a torrent of womanly liquids spilling forth, Olga's strength finally gave out. She collapsed beside Kirie, her voluptuous frame slumping heavily onto the recovery bed. Exhaustion and the dizzying rush of her first-time pleasure dragged her into a slow, inevitable slumber, her breaths softening into shallow, contented sighs as her dark grey eyes fluttered shut.
Kirie, meanwhile, emerged from beneath the weight of her presence. As her heavy breasts slid away from his face, trailing a warm, musky sheen across his cheek, his lilac-cyan eyes snapped open, wide and startled.
He gasped desperately for oxygen, chest heaving as he sucked in the sterile infirmary air, his flushed face glistening with sweat and the remnants of their encounter, a stark contrast to the stillness now settling over Olga's sleeping form.
'I… I never would have expected that…' Kirie's mind churned, a quiet admission threading through his thoughts. He'd consented in his head—not out of desire, but because a strange vitality coursed through him, his exhaustion inexplicably erased, as if the encounter had knit his battered body whole.
Drenched in a sheen of sweat, Olga's juices, and faint dribbles of his own seed, he moved with cautious deliberation. Propping himself against the IV tower—its nutrient drip still humming softly—he used it as a makeshift crutch, reaching for a stack of cleaning towels and wipes atop a nearby shelf.
With gentle, methodical strokes, he tidied himself first, wiping away the sticky remnants clinging to his skin, then turned to the head nurse, dabbing at her flushed, sleeping form with a tenderness that belied the chaos they'd shared.
'This might be awkward…' he mused, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at Olga, now an unconscious testament to their unintended conquest. A faint pinkish glow radiated from her skin, subtle yet striking against the infirmary's sterile white, like an afterglow of something arcane pulsing beneath her surface.
'I'll just… rest some more, to save the nurse some shame…' Kirie resolved, his decision firm yet tinged with empathy. He rummaged through a cabinet, finding a pair of neatly folded patient scrubs—crisp, pale blue fabric that rustled faintly as he slipped them on.
Sidling back onto the recovery bed beside her, he settled in, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight. Olga's soft, satisfied snores filled the air, a rhythmic lullaby that eased him toward slumber. His eyes drifted shut, the tension melting from his frame as sleep claimed him once more.