Goblin Chemist x Player
[Trials in Tainted Space writers]
Cupping your straining swell of a bulge, you follow behind the fallen, leaking greenskin, intent on getting relief for the urges she worked so hard to help stoke. The hungry, whorish look she flashes back at you beckons you to walk faster, but you’re in no hurry. She’s not going anywhere. You could lean against a wall and enjoy the sight and sound of her frantic schlicking for as long as you’d ever want to. You could content yourself with stroking off to the sight of her gyrations, depriving her of the skin-to-skin touches she so clearly craves, but that wouldn’t be any fun, would it?
You let it hang out, all four feet dangling just out of reach of the shortstack’s fingers. Dribbles of pre cling to the underside with more on the way thanks to your incredible virility.
“I want it so bad!” the chemist cries, midway through thrusting her entire fist into her distended cunt. Her straining lips shine with a sheen of fresh lust, and with each pump, spatters of excess goblin-juice drizzle the inky pavement below. “Gimme that dick!” The words shriek out of her with near-fiendish levels of need. “I don’t care if you rip me in half, just gimme... that... fucking... COCK!”
Ripping someone in half is only a problem if they don’t have the right lube, and your goblin friend, for all her aggressive impudence, thoughtfully brought you just the tool to synthesize something to take care of this little problem - that is, assuming you want to take the time to solve this particular problem properly. In theory, you could cum just as hard from having the pudgy shortstack climb onto your pole and work you with her entire body. It’s up to you: maximum effort or low-thought horny?
It occurs to you that stroking your member, as you’ve started to do, likely isn’t helping you choose a solution, yet you see little reason to stop. “Maybe if you just... climbed on top... of it and wrapped your arms and legs around it?”
Yes! Now that’s some passable sexual engineering!
The chemist’s eyes shine with understanding and delight at the suggestion. With her fist that far in her pussy, she was too busy pumping to figure it out on her own. “Yeah! Gimme!” She pops her fist free and splatters your feet with a cascade of breeding honey in the process. “Drop it down a bit, love?” she coos as she rolls onto her side and pushes herself up onto her knees. She reaches out with both hands, the right one absolutely drenched in slickness.
You angle your hyper-sized prick down so eagerly that it smacks the goblin broadside against her cheek and flips her ass-over-heels onto her other side. For a second, she sits still, torrentially leaking more girlcum than before down her quivering thighs. Her rise is shaky but rapid. Delight and animal need shine in her eyes. She liked it - loved it even. The gasping gabilani vaults onto your shaft with sudden alacrity, landing cunt-first on the tumescent mass of breeding flesh, flossing her weeping pussy-lips with the rhythmic pumping length of a convenient vein.
“Yes,” the drug-testing gutterslut barks, “that’s it!” She lunges forward, dragging her slit against your cock, shining a full foot of its length with the excess moisture clinging to her thighs and pumping from her fuck-engineered form. She whimpers when her plump, baby-ready breasts kiss against your sweaty skin, and her nostrils fill with the faint clouds of natural musk that surround your base. A hedonistic creature like her has no problem adapting to the situation in spite of the apparent sexual incompatibility - her inherent love for dick of all shapes and sizes is all she needs, a fact that’s confirmed when her nipples start to leak as well.
You grab the goblin by the hair and peel her face away from the surface of your prick, nearly losing your grip at the sensation of inch after inch of slowly wagging tongue peeling away. She unthinkingly licks her lips, her eyelashes fluttering in wild pleasure and confusion. Repeated tugs against your grip tell you exactly what she wants. The so-called chemist won’t even meet your eyes. She keeps trying to turn back to the cock at hand, her heavyset hindquarters wobbling in wild gyrations as she tribs herself silly on your shaft, and after a few more seconds of enjoying her look of near-pained distraction, you release her to carry on.
This proves to be exactly what the gasping puddle of sex on your member needs. She lurches the rest of her body into motion once you let go, dragging her tits along every inch of lust-swollen length they can reach. Squirts of creamy delight dribble out when she squeezes down with the insides of her arms, webbing you in pearlescent ambrosia that seems so much more clingy and... durable with the addition of your own free-flowing pre. It doesn’t want to let go, even if it turns your length milk-white enough to enthrall a dozen lactation addicts.
You slump back against the alley wall for support. You aren’t just carrying the weight of your own tremendous erection but that of the full-bodied gabilani as well. It’s a bulky burden made worse by the motions of the fat-bottomed shortstack. If the sensation of those chubby thighs back and forth against you didn’t feel so divine, you might get tired. There may come a time when you feel the burning in your legs, but it’s almost too easy to put such concerns aside and focus on the heated rutting right now.
Pillowy breasts rest against your flesh, and they spill rivers of fresh milk - for you. The scent of her syrupy pussyjuice fills the air because of you. Twitching toes dance along your urethra, contorting to give you that extra bit of contact. You’re dealing with a prime size-queen in the flesh, and it feels so good, especially when she blubbers happily against your member, spilling spit and garbled praise onto skin so sensitized that it nearly makes you cum.
Something presses against your glans. Something just as warm and wet as the chemist’s cunt but surrounded with a beveled metal edge.
Apparently gibberish like “Grnuh ffk whsh m’psshe” translates into “Gonna fuck with my pussy,” and there’s no time to formulate a proper response while the smooth, metallic limb swims upstream through your distended cumslit, scooping up thick lip-fulls of spermy pre. Getting something rammed up your dick seems like it should hurt, but it’s so effortless and easy to just stand there and let her do it. Having a segmented cybernetic cunt pumping deep into your tool feels better than good.
It feels amazing, filling and slick, and warm, and every bit as firm and achy as the tumescence of your own flesh.
“More,” you groan, unable to hold back a buck of your hips that makes the goblin bounce exquisitely upon your enormous phallus. “Just... fucking MORE!”
The chemist immediately grants your wish. Her tail slams deep into your unnaturally large, mammoth prick, thrusting as deeply as possible, bending so sharply that the flexible housing seems to mirror the shape of your dick. It traces your contours like a spray painted outline, but inside it’s ramrod straight and thrust so powerfully into your urethra that you can’t help but imagine all the swirling pre-jizz getting packed into the cloned quim.
You twitch and throb. The goblin, perched on top, rides along, bouncing and squeezing while her tail rocks back and forth, pumping and plunging. “More” turns out to be entirely too much for your poor dick. Assaulted by steady, near mechanically precise friction on the inside and the eager press of cushy green-skinned flesh on the outside, it jerks in sudden, violently irrepressible ecstasy.
You’re going to cum.
Powerful convulsions ripple through your gut, tightening your scrotum around your nuts as they lift up and contract, brewing the disparate components of your load together into a molten hot ball of ecstasy. You clench, vision going white, and erupt. Cum races through your internal plumbing only to slam into the chemist’s extended cunt. With nowhere else to go, it’s forcefully injected deep into those recessed folds, stuffing its lurid lips to glutted capacity.
Contorting atop you, the goblin’s whole body tenses. Her tits wobble, and her distended teats visible plump up a moment before bursting into glass-flooding streams of creamy white. Her cunt, squeezing onto a vein for dear life, drenches your orgasmically turgid pole in its fragrant feminine perfume, staining you so deeply with gabilani pheromones that you know you’re going to be turning ausar heads wherever you go. You can’t see the look on her face, but you can see her tongue hanging limp and leaking drool while she grunts with guttural, animal ecstasy.
It’s almost a shame when you have to stop cumming and let the goblin slide back down the ground to sit in a puddle of her own juices. Of course, her tail remains firmly planted in your glans, collecting as much as cum as possible. You have to pull it out yourself. It’s not an easy task with all the juices coating it, doubly so with how hellishly good it feels to slide through your climax-sensitized interior. You pull it out with a few shameful gasps of delight, wincing at how wide-open your dicktip hangs for the few moments before your body begins to recover.
The chemist, lying in a puddle of her own juices, fans herself dreamily. “You Rushers sure know how to fuck.”
Hell yes you do.