Chapter 72 – Eroded Butt Hole (3)
Butt hole being eroded (3)
Drenched cloth. The underwear, which seemed like new, was gone, and there was a lump of moistly written cloth there. I pushed down the cloth that was clinging to my skin in the soaked water.
The pussy hidden under the cloth is exposed. The genitals were red from the heat and looked like reddish persimmons. The lewd appearance of sticky slime flowing down from the clothes, as if exhaling an excited breath, the hot heat escapes like steam from the underwear.
A strange sight enough to inadvertently swallow saliva.
Carefully, I put my hand between the delicate virgin soil.
My body trembled at the smooth sliding of the flesh of my pussy and the sudden current.
I was just gently caressed, but I inadvertently stopped at this level of pleasure, a sense of pleasure that came to me differently than before.
As it is, if I touch it more, what will happen if I masturbate? I stopped for a moment, very briefly, in fear that my head would really break down, but should I say inertia? Reason, once blunted, quickly subsides, and collapses into the nature of mere pursuit of pleasure.
A hand that moves cautiously, but more boldly. The slowly thickened fingers move boldly.
“Huh ♡”
An unbearable moaning.
Come to think of it, is this house well soundproofed?
Maybe every night, every night, someone stays awake at this flowing groaning sound? I think.
You might get caught, maybe someone is listening. Even so, this naturally lewd body did not allow even the slightest groaning to be concealed.
Pleasure to the point of being unbearable, to the point of allowing nothing else to be thought of but just thinking of this pleasure.
It felt like my uterus was pounding and pulsating.
It rises, it rises.
The flushed skin is dyed like a deliciously ripe peach.
Sweet female scent. He groans in a vulgar manner and comforts himself.
A female cry filled the room.
The floor was wet, the woman Yo-Yo-Han was nowhere to be found, and only a lowly beast howled hotly.
A burning sensation in the throat.
Mourn
It’s painful.
The more the heat, the faster the touch.
—Steamed —steamed
A rough grinding sound flows down.
The hot heat, moans like natural screams. The pleasure that rises according to the touch adds to the heat.
Still can’t fill it.
A thirst that burns hot, a thirst that is painfully demanding, more than anything else.
What?
The body demands Fingers that speed up accordingly, pussy that gets sticky. But it was not enough.
Lack of. Like a traveler thrown out in the middle of the desert, he is thirsty.
An unquenchable thirst no matter how much you drink. No matter how much I try to comfort myself, I wonder if this is not enough or the direction is wrong. The dry body was just a craving, not filled in the slightest.
A body that gets hotter.
I tried to move my fingers in an attempt to soothe her, but it only made me feel more sorry.
The curse she left behind.
Heat.
Estrus is a signal to eventually find a mate and mate.
Yes, comforting yourself alone will not satisfy this thirst.
It’s painful.
What comes to mind is the dark male body odor. That scent. Agi’s sweet, fishy taste.
Big, thick. An organ that exists to dominate females.
Your breath is hot.
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it, I feel like my head is going crazy, so I spur my seat like this, and if I run into someone…
My head is dizzy. It’s dizzying.
Whether it’s a virgin or pregnant, moral and ethical reasons are buried. All that remains is the longing for sexual love. Only the image of a submissive female who wants male dominance.
I just cry and comfort myself.
Even so, it wasn’t filled in the slightest, so I groaned in pain. Even just a little bit, to calm this throbbing, this urge.
It’s hot enough to burn your whole body.
With a hot forehead as if it were a lump of heat, an anxious expression like a girl suffering from love-sickness, she only comforted herself with a filthy appearance that didn’t match it in the slightest.
“Ahh♥, uhhhhh!!”
Zenith.
Moaning like a beast Conversation that was not thought of as a language, it was just a swearing sound like an animal that was in line with its nature. In the midst of the pleasure that seemed to stir my head into a mess, I howled according to my instinct.
It is dizzy enough to make you dizzy from the overflowing pleasure and peak waves, but even in such pleasure, a lack of thirst runs down your throat.
The lack of thirst only whipped the body more as if it was more painful.
The trembling womb vibrates as if it were disappointed, making me even more anxious.
The body, the instincts of the body, do not want this kind of clumsy self-consolation, as if they couldn’t be satisfied with this kind of play with their hands, it fanned me even more.
Pleasure continues to burn the opposite sex, but the more it continues, the more sexual desire, the desire to become a man. Its size is gradually increasing, but the thirst is not quenched in the slightest and continues to build up.
Lacking more… A larger fire is needed to quench this raging fire. I can’t be satisfied with this kind of hand play. I want to have more pleasant things. I want something hot— a male that penetrates deep into my brain.
And so on and on, instinct whispers to me.
Don’t hold back, become a beast. It whispers to you to take off one layer and become a real beast.
However, a very sweet whisper.
It was a whisper like a sweet poison apple, like the devil spilling in your ear.
Even so, even so, he desperately suppresses his instincts.
Suppress, put to sleep.
I almost passed it once, but even so, I don’t know if it’s useful, but I don’t know if it’s useful, but the morality that I’ve lived for 34 years, and social ethics barely succeed.
A barely audible sigh.
Heat… It seemed to have become absurd.
Somehow I was able to stop it without turning into a major problem.
If this place wasn’t home, if it were somewhere else, if by chance, very coincidentally, I’d run into another man.
Or, if only the slightest amount of self-control had been lacking.
What could have happened?
I was well aware of the fact that I couldn’t control myself at all.
But, perhaps, if I had been guided by my instincts, if I had been covered and weaved by unknown males, and if I had been able to fulfill my duties as a female… What would have happened if he had lived a life like a beast, captive to pleasure?
Maybe that ending wouldn’t have been happy either?
I ended up feeling a bit sad.
Lani, what are you thinking? Was it because of too much pleasure? Or is it because of the afterglow of heat still remaining? It didn’t seem like a normal accident yet.
Of course, I thought I wanted a self-destructive ending, and it seemed like it was gradually becoming that way, but it was too radical.
At least in the past, I would have at least felt ashamed or sorry for this thought, but on the other hand, I would have felt the fear of the abyss, but more than anything else, I felt regret.
Not good. Not good. I feel that I am changing.
I thought it would happen one day, and I had thoughts of making it happen myself, but it was too sudden.
It’s a situation that he himself wanted, but nevertheless, anxiety dwells in his own image of something being colored.
How can you change that much in one morning? I couldn’t understand at all how this was a basic treatment.
In an instant, a strange image of himself comes into view. Pupils vacantly loosened, cheeks strangely loosened. A smile flowing bewitchingly. It was an overly suggestive expression to say it was his own face. The expression of a woman who covets a male. An alluring, dreamy, obscene face that fascinates many men. I am surprised that I was able to make such an expression with my own face.
How messed up was it?
The clean room was filthy with all sorts of filthy bodily fluids.
The disheveled furniture and fabrics showed the intensity of the action.
The hardwood floor was damp. An unpleasant, unpleasant dampness wafts around.
What was even more unpleasant was that the uterus, which had not yet subsided, was throbbing and trembling.
Fortunately, I was able to endure this time, but what will happen in the future?
Now that she has calmed down, her excited breath is desperately looking for a male, and then, and then, and then. And then, can I stand it? No, after this, can my reason that is like a thread of my body, which has been touched even more, be able to endure it?
However, at the same time, there was a reason that if it became unbearable, it would be better to leave it as it is.
With my own fingers, I now feel something lacking. A simple act of masturbation now makes me feel a bit unsatisfied.
I felt that day when I remembered it. A man’s cock that was heavy.
Its weight, its scent, its reliable size.
Fishy, very disgusting. However, the sweet and slimy male fight that stimulates instinct,
The female instinct to want to be dominated and subordinated.
Female to be born.
Little by little, little by little, she finds that the weight of the scale is tipping against the desire of the female.
Little by little it starts to break down.
My vision is blurry.
I barely came to my senses, but my head still feels dizzy.
The precious organ in the lower abdomen, deep inside the stomach, was still tempting as if it had not given up.
The pleasure of melting.
If this wasn’t masturbation, but an act by a really superior male… How good, how good did it feel?
Gulp.
I swallow saliva just thinking about it inadvertently.
Was I so lewd?
Although he was aware that he had allowed himself to become like this, he was unfamiliar with his ever-changing image and felt dangerous.
Even so, like a runaway locomotive, he must have no intention of stopping.
Anyway, he was weak to pleasure.
I hadn’t noticed it until recently, because I was obsessed with pleasure, but my stomach was full before I knew it.
When I noticed it, I felt a stomach ache. A feeling of intense pressure began to run down my stomach.
The rough breathing and the appearance of the ship going up and down with each exhalation were impressive. It was clearly visible even over the shirt she was wearing, and I thought she looked like a pregnant woman.
I take off the shirt I was wearing in a cramped mind.
Naked, one black lingerie bra. It was a very sensational look. A small bulge of belly fat was swollen beneath it. The strange appearance of the naked body, which was not simply fat, but only the abdominal area was swollen non-ideally, even looked lewd.
A boat that protrudes out of proportion. I could see it with my own eyes, as if the shape of the intestine was swollen and swollen. Carefully touch the swelling. Her own intestines, which she faintly felt. I thought that the small capsule could inflate like this.
A swollen stomach that made it difficult to breathe.
The clumps of slime that clumped together exert intense pressure, as if they would jump out at the slightest carelessness. Like a dam about to collapse, the rabbit’s tail blocking the dam flinches.
A feeling of pressure that seems to be pushed away little by little. Even now, if you loosen up and pull out your tail, you will be freed from this pain.
Even so, she puts her mind behind her desire to be comfortable and puts up with it because the alarm she had set hasn’t gone off yet.
No one would find out if I didn’t keep an exact hour, but I waited for the alarm with a clear conscience.
The stomach, which was already full, urgently sent out a signal of bloating, but nevertheless, in pain, I endured it for now.
It’s a wonder, it was so hard to endure pleasure, but you can still tolerate this kind of pain.
I think about that while breathing becomes difficult.
It’s getting harder and harder to block with the tail. Consciously contract the sphincter around the anus, which you don’t normally use often.
My body keeps telling me to be comfortable, to be comfortable. I endure it nonetheless. Endure
Whether it was the experience of working life, it was worth enduring the pain.
Even so, I keep feeling that the hand is trying to go to the tail that is blocking the hand, whether it’s unconscious or conscious.
Abdominal pain, I had felt it before, but it was not easy to hold back the urge to defecate.
I get more and more nervous about the sound of an alarm that doesn’t go off.
That’s what a timer is. It’s not a problem when you don’t know how much time has passed, but when you check the remaining time in detail, every second feels like it’s passing slowly.
That’s why I tried not to look at the clock if possible, but my eyes passed by the timer inadvertently and unknowingly, even though I knew that it would be rather difficult to endure when I knew the remaining time.
57 minutes 48 seconds.
It would have been fine if there wasn’t much time left until the alarm time, or if there was enough time left to give up the leak.
An ambiguous time where it is difficult to do this or that, 2 minutes and 12 seconds.
Above all, I think that it is two minutes that feels long.
