Never empty again.
ZIA
Day Thirty. Portal day. The words mean nothing now.
I wake to Zkari's mouth between my legs, his forked tongue working my clit while two fingers curl inside me. This is how he wakes me every morning now. Says pregnant females need regular orgasms to maintain proper hormone balance. I don't argue with the science.
“Morning,” I gasp, hand finding his head, holding him in place.
He doesn't respond with words, just pushes a third finger inside while his tongue vibrates against my swollen bundle of nerves. My pussy clenches around his fingers, already wet, already ready. Twenty-three days since our first breeding and my body stays in constant state of arousal. Not the desperate torture of the tonic's initial effect, but genuine need for him specifically.
The orgasm hits quick and sharp, making my back arch off the furs. My belly, swollen with his offspring, rises like a moon. I can feel movement inside, the constant shifting of whatever grows there. Twins at least, maybe more. Vorthak pregnancies are faster than human, and at thirty days I look six months pregnant.
“Good,” he approves, withdrawing his fingers slowly. “Female responsive this morning.”
“Female is responsive every morning,” I point out, already reaching for his breeding cock.
Both cocks emerged while he was pleasuring me, but I focus on the breeding one. Even though I'm already pregnant, my body craves it specifically. The ridges, the knot, the fullness only it can provide. My pussy clenches just looking at it.
“Need you,” I tell him, spreading my legs wider.
“Demanding,” he observes, but moves between my thighs.
The first push gives me five ridges at once. My pussy has been permanently reshaped by twenty-three days of daily breeding, taking him easily now. The stretch still makes me gasp, but with pleasure not pain. Each ridge drags against spots that make my eyes roll back.
“More,” I demand, pulling him deeper with my legs.
The remaining four ridges push inside with his next thrust. Completely filled except for the knot, which already presses against my entrance. My pussy produces a flood of lubrication, preparing for what it knows is coming.
He fucks me slow and deep, each thrust deliberate. This isn't the desperate breeding of our first seven days or even the urgent matings of the second week. This is comfortable, familiar, perfect. Our bodies know each other completely now.
“Want your knot,” I tell him, clenching around his ridges.
“Greedy female,” he says, but I can feel it swelling.
Three thrusts later it pops inside, locking us together. Not for hours like those first times, but still long enough. Twenty to thirty minutes usually, sometimes longer if he's particularly worked up. His seed floods into me, adding to what's already there, to what's been there for weeks.
“Portal opens today,” he mentions casually as his cock pulses inside me.
“I know.”
“Noon.”
“I know.”
“Female not curious?”
I clench around his knot, making him groan. “Female is busy being bred. Again. As she will be tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.”
His tail wraps around my thigh, possessive and pleased. We don't talk about the portal again. There's nothing to discuss. My choice was made when I walked into his territory asking to be bred. Everything since has just been confirmation.
When his knot releases, I push him onto his back and straddle him immediately. His secondary cock wraps around my waist while I sink onto his breeding cock, taking all nine ridges in one smooth motion.
“My turn,” I announce, starting to ride him.
This is our routine now. He wakes me with his mouth, breeds me slow, then I ride him to my own satisfaction. After that comes breakfast, then often a third mating if we're both in the mood, which we usually are.
“Belly getting bigger,” he observes, hands spanning my swollen stomach. “Offspring growing well.”
