100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 767: Chapter 766- Rusty Got his Feed

Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

"HIEEKK~!! I — I’m — OUNGH~!! — cumming again — HAAANGH~!! AAANGH~!!"

She squirted again. The spray hit my thigh, my stomach. Her pussy clamped and released in rapid pulses. I held myself inside her, grinding deep, letting her ride the orgasm.

Then I pulled out. Lifted her. She weighed nothing — her small frame, even pregnant, was easy in my hands. I carried her across the room. Pressed her against the wall.

Her back hit the stone. She gasped. I hooked her legs around my waist, my hands under her thighs, and lifted. Her pregnant belly pressed between us. I supported her weight with one arm — the other guiding my cock back to her entrance.

I fucked her against the wall.

Pah Pah Pah Pah PAH!

"AAANGH~!! HAAANGH~!! OUNGH~!! HIEEENGH~!!"

The wall shook. Paintings rattled. Her back scraped against the stone with each impact, her tail wrapped around my arm, her fingers clawing my shoulders. I could feel my tail lashing behind me — slamming into the wall, into furniture, leaving marks. My horns — when had they come out? — glowed violet, casting shadows across her face.

"You’re mine," I growled. "Say it."

She was sobbing. "I’m yours — HAAANGH~!! — yours — OUNGH~!! — always — AH~!!"

I lifted her higher. My hands under her arms now, holding her up by her own body weight. Her pregnant belly hung between us — heavy, round, swaying with each thrust. Her tits bounced wildly, milk leaking from the nipples. Her pussy was a mess — wet, swollen, stretched around my cock, juices running down both our thighs.

"Look at you," I said. "Beautiful."

She cried. Happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. Her tongue was out, her eyes half-closed, her expression the face of a woman who had been fucked past the point of thought.

I carried her back to the bed. Laid her down gently. She was trembling — her entire body, from her ears to her tail. I straddled her face. My cock — slick with her juices, the head dark and swollen — hung over her mouth.

"Open."

She opened. I pushed in. Deep. Her throat bulged. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she took it — inch by inch, her throat relaxing around me. I could feel her tongue working the underside, her throat muscles massaging the shaft.

I leaned forward. My mouth found her pussy.

I ate her while she sucked me. My tongue dragged through her swollen lips, circled her clit, pushed inside. She tasted like salt and sweetness and sex. Her thighs clamped around my head. I could feel her tail whipping against my back.

|| His tongue — it’s inside me — I can’t — my mouth is full of his cock and my pussy is full of his tongue — I can’t think — I can’t breathe — I can’t—||

I sucked her clit. She screamed around my cock — the vibration traveling through the shaft, through my spine, into my brain. I ground my face into her. My tongue worked her, my lips pulling, sucking, and her hips bucked against my mouth.

She came. Her pussy squirted — directly onto my face. Hot, thick, running down my chin. She screamed, muffled by my cock, her throat clenching around the head. The vibration and the sight of her squirting pushed me over the edge.

I came. Hard. Thick ropes of cum pumping directly into her throat — she swallowed, gagged, swallowed again. Her throat worked around my cock, milking me. I ground my hips, pushing deeper, feeling the last spurts empty into her mouth.

I pulled out. Cum dripped from her lips. She coughed, gasped, her tongue chasing the strands that leaked from the corner of her mouth.

I held my cock in front of her face. She looked up at me — tear-streaked, cum-covered, her ears flat, her eyes glassy. She opened her mouth again. Licked the head clean. Sucked the last drops from the tip.

Then I stepped back. Picked up a silk cloth from the nightstand. Held it to her lips. She took it — wiped her mouth, her face, her chin. Her hands were shaking.

I dressed her. Slowly. A clean nightgown from the wardrobe — silk, dark blue, loose enough to accommodate her belly. I slipped it over her head, guided her arms through, tied the laces at her sides. She sat on the edge of the bed, passive, letting me work. Her ears were soft now. Relaxed. Her tail hung limp.

I picked up a brush from the vanity. Sat behind her on the bed. Began brushing her hair — long, silver, tangled from the sweat and movement. She leaned back into me. Closed her eyes. Purred.

The sound filled the room. Low, constant, the vibration of a cat-kin utterly at peace.

"You’re too good to me," she whispered.

I kissed the back of her neck. "I’m exactly good enough."

She laughed. Soft. Tired. Real.

I set the brush down. Wrapped my arms around her — my hands on her belly, supporting the weight. Her tail curled around my wrist. Her ears pressed against my jaw. We sat like that for a long moment. Silent. Breathing. The enchanted gardens glowed through the window. The sounds of babies splashing in an aquarium filtered up from below.

Then my cock stirred again. Hardening against her lower back.

Bella felt it. Her ears twitched. She looked over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

"Again?"

I kissed her ear. Bit the tip. She shivered.

"We have time," I said.

She groaned. But her tail was already swishing. Her thighs were already pressing together. Her nipples were already stiff beneath the silk.

We had time or so I thought.

GROOOOORHHH!!

The roar split the night like a thunderclap cracking open the sky. The walls of Clara’s room vibrated — the enchanted paintings rattled against their hooks, the fireplace flickered, and a fine layer of dust drifted from the ceiling. Bella’s ears shot straight up, her tail puffing to three times its normal size.

"What in the —"

My mouth twitched.

Not from fear. Not from surprise. From the sheer, undeniable absurdity of what I was sensing through the roof. That energy signature — bubbly, chaotic, slightly acidic — was unmistakable. I knew it before the upper layer of the roof blew off in a shower of enchanted tiles and timber.

Rusty.

My slime. My ridiculous, sentient, perpetually-horny slime.

The creature had grown. Massively. Where once a waist-high blob of rust-colored goo had wobbled around the mansion eating table scraps, there was now a dragon — fully formed, wings spread wide, its body a shimmering cascade of gelatinous scales that caught the moonlight and refracted it into a thousand amber and crimson fragments. Its eyes — two glowing orbs of molten gold — found me immediately through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Its maw opened, rows of translucent teeth gleaming, and it roared again.

GROOOOORHHH!!

But the roar wasn’t aggressive. It was excited. Thrilled. The thing was practically vibrating with joy, its tail — a massive whip of semi-solid slime — wagging like an overgrown dog. Because Rusty could feel it. The sex energy radiating from this room — from me, from Bella, from every surface I had touched in the last hour — was feeding it.

My Dirty Slimes Rusty and Rustina were elemental creatures of ambient magic, and there was no ambient magic quite as potent as raw sexual energy.

The room was practically swimming in it. Rusty was drunk on it.