####
London, England.
"Your Majesty, your ripe age is passing. For the sake of your lin—"
"Silence!" snapped Elizabeth I, the Queen of the budding British Empire, although it wasn't called an empire yet. "There is only one man I seek. If you haven't been able to find him, resign!"
"B-But… He's a god, Your Majesty. Where can we find him?"
The Queen eyed the man with mockery. "Oh, so now you call him a god? Careful, they might term you a heretic for this."
"But he is a god, isn't he, Your Majesty?"
"And that's why I seek him. If I am to ruin this body and go through the pain of bearing children, I'd rather they be a god's children. Go, send whoever you must to explore the world. Find him for me."
And just like that, without even knowing, Marshall kicked-started the age of the British Empire's exploration. He didn't know that Elizabeth sent people to find him in the land that would be called America. In Marshall's defense, he'd only seen Elizabeth when she was young. He and Marty were flying above England when Marty had to take a dump, so he landed in a random spot.
That spot just happened to be where young Elizabeth was playing. And since then, the girl had been obsessed with the blonde-haired, weirdly dressed god. And it wasn't hard for her to find out more details about him.
Marshall, the First Man, was a name mentioned plenty of times in every religious text across the world, no matter which religion it was. In some, he was named an angel, in some, he was named an oracle, in some, he was named the father above all, and in others, he was named the birther of humanity. Heck, even Marty was often named as First Man's steed.
So, Elizabeth I began her quest to find the First Man and get him to breed with her and make her bloodline more legendary than what she believed she already was.
Sadly, she had no clue that Marshall's little tadpoles were useless to her human body. Nor was he interested in her. What the royals of Elizabeth's court and era considered beautiful was ugly to Marshall.
####
1636, Edo, Japan.
Slosh! Slosh! Slosh!
"Holy shit!" Marshall moaned like a man balls deep between two, soft, plump, voluptuous breasts, and that was exactly where he was. "Fuck—Should've done this before, Selene… Instead of making one of them do it."
"Heh—" Selene chuckled sultrily, her two decades-long attempts at seducing Marshall had finally come to fruition. She was trying to use it to free herself of that invisible, psychological shackle.
She was never asked by Marshall to stay behind. She was never chained. She was never ordered. Yet, she willingly chose to just stick around. She felt lust for this man, longing, and submission to him. She felt ashamed, her proud self feeling all those things. But they were undeniable.
So, she hoped to conquer her subconscious submissive mind by fucking Marshall's brains out. Sadly, even though Marshall was one horny bastard, she'd never been able to get him to her bed. Marshall rather chose to bed Ajak or Thena.
Finally, as the other two were too far away, she found her chance.
The tatami creaked beneath his weight. His samurai-style garb lay in a crumpled mess nearby. Selene straddled his thighs, her black kimono pushed off her shoulders, showing skin like pale moonlight. Her heavy tits swayed, squeezed tight together, wrapped lovingly around the thick trunk of his cock. She gave him a tit-job so slow, so snug, it bordered on torture.
"Do you like it?" she cooed, rocking her bosom in smooth strokes. Her tits flattened and shifted with every glide, surrounding him like hot, decadent clouds. "How about this?"
Marshall let out a strangled noise. Somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. "Goddamn… you feel like… Fuck! Like warm cookie batter… like sex with… gravity."
Selene smirked. She adjusted her angle slightly, pressing tighter. His cock pulsed between her soft slopes, slathered in spit and sweat. Precum leaked like syrup, slathering her cleavage, turning her pale skin glossy and sticky.
"Mm… getting leaky already?" she whispered, eyes glinting with hunger. "You like my big bosom, don't you?"
"Dammit—Big titty goth witch is an understatement… holy shit…!" Marshall felt his toes curl in that heavenly sensation. "Shit… shit, like… creamy apple pie, Selene—I swear..."
She leaned forward, letting his flushed tip peek out from the top of her humid valley. And then, her tongue was on him.
She licked his cockhead with a teasing flick, then again, slower, more deliberate. Her pouty, black painted lips kissed the tip, her tongue swirling in lazy circles, once, twice. Then, dipping, just barely, into the sensitive slit.
He had no clue what magic she used, but her mouth was practically unwinding his iron-hard cock. A stubborn screw being turned.
Marshall's whole body jolted. "GghHHnnnnn—fuck… Selene…"
She moaned onto him like a sinner in prayer, lips now parting wider to kiss the top of his cock properly, lapping at it between thrusts of her breasts. His iron-hard shaft was soaked now. Her tits were glossy, glistening, fucked full of his scent and taste. And she wanted more.
Marshall's fists clenched into the tatami mat. His thighs twitched.
And then he broke.
"Gaaackhh…" With a long growl that came from somewhere bottomless, his hips jerked up and spilled a thick, boiling load into her mouth.
Selene opened wide and swallowed him down, not even flinching at the volume. His batter filled her mouth, hot and viscous, and she gulped it down with a loud, deliberate swallow that echoed in his ears.
Gulk, Gulk, Gulk.
She kept her eyes locked on his as she drank him in. Her lips suckled his twitching tip, her throat flexing around every drop. She wanted him to see it. Hear it. Know exactly what she was doing to him.
When she was sure he was finished, she released him with a wet pop, thick saliva still connecting her lips to his crown. Her tits glistened with spit and pre-cum, still pressed together, but she didn't keep up the erotic massage. Instead, she wrapped one hand around his cock, slick with her own mess, and started stroking him slowly, keeping him greedy, pulsing, and ready.
"The real feast is still left, First Man," Selene mumbled with reverence.
Marshall's cock quickly came back to life in her palms. It stood proud, dripping, twitching. Still wet from her spit and his own need. He was a weapon, and she wanted to be the one to wield it. Ride it and conquer it.
Selene straddled him in a smooth, sensual crouch, heels planted beside his waist, squeezable thighs spread wide in that poised squatting stance. Her dark kimono peeled from her body with a bit of magic, discarded completely, revealing the full curve of her hips, the proud swell of her breasts, and soft, pale thighs. The inky waves of black hair cascading down her back.
"Hehe…" she giggled, a dark glint in her eyes. "Ready, First Man?"
She didn't sit. She squatted lower, showing him everything with her knees spread wide apart. Her twitching folds, the sheen of her arousal, all on display as if a masterpiece of sin. Her ass hovered high above him, never resting. She aimed his cock with two fingers, lined him up, and then slowly, she sank down.
"Been centuries since my last cock… Mmm… fill me good, First M—aaaaan!"
Her pussy parted with wet resistance, tight, hot, and soaked, swallowing the thick crown of his cock like she was birthing an egg.
It felt magical. It had to be magic. Every inch that disappeared into her sent sparks through her nerves. Her breath shallow, her spine arched. Her hands braced against his abs, claws digging into him as she started to ride. Not slowly, not gracefully, but with force.
Selene dropped herself onto his cock with full control, slamming down ruthlessly and yanking back up with animalistic rhythm.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Her bouncing ass cheeks slapped against each other with every downward thrust, those lewd squelches echoing across the quiet tatami room. Her breasts jolted with every bounce, swaying and shaking between her arms. Her face twisted in raw, ragged bliss. He was doing nothing, it was just her, brutally fucking herself on his godly cock.
Marshall just watched. He didn't thrust. Didn't move. Just lay there, gazing up at her with a look of awe mixed with amusement.
She was fucking herself with such intensity, such madness, like she was anxious to chase that euphoric high. Like she was trying to ruin herself on his cock. However, her control started to slip.
"Mmmm! Yes, yes~!" she moaned, half-crazed. Her thighs quivered, her voice cracked. She had set out to fuck him like a queen. But instead, he was fucking her like a god. And her body loved every nasty bit of it.
She could feel his cock throbbing inside her like an unyielding, rabid beast. He brushed her cervix with every drop of her ass. Her walls clung to him like wet clay. Her head lolled back. Her hair stuck to her slick neck. Her breath came out as pitiful little whines between curses. Each time she slammed down, she felt her pride crack. She was breaking.
She was the Black Priestess, feared for millennia. But now? Just a dripping, moaning cocksleeve. Bouncing herself stupid on a cock that didn't even move.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Then it hit.
Her body stiffened, every muscle locking as her climax overtook her. Her legs buckled. Her pussy throbbed and clamped down violently around his shaft. Her eyes rolled back as a scream tore from her lungs. "Aahhhh!"
Her climax struck harder than a meteor, and she came so hard it felt like her soul left her body. Juice gushed down her thighs, hot and thick, soaking Marshall's waist and the tatami beneath them.
"Aaaargh… Fuck, I can't take this anymore! Enough of this…!" Marshall groaned as he felt her pussy scorchingly throb around his cock. "My turn!"
He moved.
Before Selene could blink, she was thrown onto her back. Her legs were still around his waist from that squatting fuck, and Marshall used that to his advantage. He sat up, grabbed her thighs, pushed them up, and folded her, while he squatted now instead.
He folded her hard for that incoming pile-driver, her knees pressed to her chest. Her ass raised high. Her creamy pink pussy exposed, fully blooming, glistening and twitching. Her tits spread wider across her chest like melted butter, bouncing with every breath. Her face was flushed, and her black lipstick smeared, eyes glazed, and strands of hair stuck to her cheeks.
"OOOOH! Yes, yes… Take me… oh, take me, First Man… I'm yours! I offer myself to your blessing… your service… take me!"
Marshall snarled. "The fuck are you rambling -- ?"
Then he plunged into her.
Plap!
His cock crashed in with punishing force, sending shockwaves through her supple body. His hips snapped forward. His balls slapped against her ass with every thrust. Her back arched painfully under his force, tits bouncing wildly, but Selene took it.
Marshall held her down by the pushed-up thighs, pinning her like a pile-driver. The angle was brutal, obscene. Her hips couldn't escape. Her body had no choice but to bounce with every thrust, absorbing every devastating slam.
"Ahhh! Ahh...First Man—!" Selene screamed, louder than before. Her tongue lolled out. Her eyes fluttered. She was gone. "Mmmh… Deeeeperrrrr…~"
Her mind splintered with every plunge. Her thoughts blurred into white-hot need. She couldn't fight it anymore. Her body loved it. Her soul loved it. Her genes screamed for this man. Each thrust punched the air out of her lungs. Her back flattened against the mat, then bounced back for more. Again, and again, and again.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Harder. Deeper. Filthier.
Marshall fucked her like he owned her. He didn't know what came over him.
He had started slow, playful, and amused. Letting her ride him while she pretended to stay in control. But now, now he was on top of her, drilling her twitching, messy cunt into the tatami like he was trying to rearrange her womb.
And he couldn't stop.
Something in her face, something wild, something unguarded, unlocked him. The sight of her mascara running, her eyes glazed, her lips open in a helpless "O," was like gasoline poured straight into his instincts.
Her pussy clung to him, like silk soaked in sweat and surrender. Tight as a virgin. Skilled as a whore. He knew she was neither. She wasn't innocent, and she wasn't owned by anyone.
Except now? Now she was his.
His big-titty goth witch. His black priestess. His fuck-sleeve. He slammed in again, gritting his teeth as her slick pussy milked every inch of him.
"Hah… fuck…" He snarled, sweat flying from his hairline. "Lemme… bend you… harder… then!"
"OOOOH! GOD! FIRST… M-MAAANN!" Selene's scream shot through the room like lightning.
But he didn't stop.
Marshall's hands slid up from the backs of her thighs. He grabbed her ankles instead, planning something more brutal, a different version of that fantastic, hot pile-driver.
He folded her further, literally this time. Shoved her ankles down and pinned them right beside her head, almost pressing her knees and toes into the tatami. Her ass raised higher. Her pussy stretched and puffy, drilled to no end. Her back bent, locked into the deepest angle possible.
Then he fucked her like she was nothing but a hole, a folded lawn chair. A man in total, brutal control. And she loved every fucking plunge of it.
Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!
His cock hit that same spot again and again, jabbing it like he was pushing a button to her floodgates. And that button? It worked.
Selene came. Her body arched. Her pussy clamped. Her voice shattered. Her hips bucked, but she couldn't move. She came like a broken fucking faucet.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
Juice gushed around his cock. Her thighs shook violently. Her moans came out in gasps, hiccups, and sobs. And then—again. Another thrust. Another flood.
"Marshall—Marshall—I c-can't—I'm—I'm—AAAHH!"
She kept cumming. Over and over. Her pussy wouldn't stop. She was leaking all over him, soaking the mat, her cunt splashing back creamy filth every time he bottomed out inside her. Each orgasm just invited another.
"That's it! That's it!" Marshall groaned, literally doing a push-up on her with his hands firmly holding her ankles beside her head. It was so obscene, so unholy, that a common man would scream demons or a witch at sight. She was so flexible that it was outrageous.
He hammered her, brutal, deep, merciless strokes. He slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and roared. "I'm gonna—FUCKING FILL YOU UP!"
His cock pulsed, and thick molten batter exploded deep inside her womb. Hot and heavy, it poured out wave after wave. So much that it overflowed immediately, spurting back around his shaft and dripping down across her sloping belly.
Her creamy pussy twitched with every shot. Her body limp, legs still pinned beside her face, her face flushed and soaked in sweat.
But Marshall wasn't finished. He pulled out his cock and gripped his slick shaft. He aimed with the precision of an artist painting on canvas.
Splurt-Splurt!
White ropes of sticky cum landed across Selene's magnificent bosom, across her collarbones, across her fucking face. Her lips. Her cheeks. One thick glob painted her chin. Another caught her black lashes. She was drenched.
"Gaaaaaah… man… never thought… I'd find someone… better than fucking Ajak…" He was panting, body tight, veins bulging from his arms. But his cock? Still hard. Still twitching. Still hungry.
"Ffff-fuck… Take it!" He rammed his cock back inside her without a pause, hands once again pushing her legs beside her face. She must have felt an ache from that much bending, but she never complained.
Her body flinched, mouth gaping. "Ngahhh—! Oooooh… Fuck!"
More sloshing. More plapping. Her cunt was a fuck-puddle now, but still took him perfectly. It wrapped around him like it belonged to him. He kept thrusting, harder and harder.
The room smelled of sex, of sweat, of raw fucking. The air was heavy with it.
Marshall watched her face. Her eyes were going heavy. Her mouth hung open. Her breathing was ragged, uneven, desperate. She was turning to mush. And he still wasn't done.
Not after the first orgasm. Not after the second. Not even after the third time he spilled himself deep into her twitching cunt. Marshall kept going, fucking her more than a relentless machine, like a tireless beast driven by nothing but lust and greed.
Selene? She lost count after her tenth orgasm.
She'd squirted, screamed, twitched, and trembled, even slurred her words. By the end, she was nothing but a gasping, slick mess, folded under him, used, coated. Her pale, ash-white skin now contrasted sharply with the flush of her ruined face and the angry red of her swollen, puffed-up pussy. She looked like a painting, a desecrated temple, beautiful in its ruin.
"Ummmmmmmh…!" Selene whimpered one last time, legs twitching, back arching, before her body seized up.
A final, wet squirt sprayed across her own belly, followed by a long, shuddering breath. Her eyes rolled back. Her limbs went slack. She was completely and utterly… gone.
Not dead. Just fucked unconscious, collapsed into delirium. She loved every second of it, even in her last waking moment, she was smiling lewdly. Drunk on cock. Blissed beyond thought. She just accepted it.
Marshall was still creaming inside her when he realized. He groaned, annoyed, and slowly pulled out.
Her legs flopped open limply. The second he left her body, a flood of hot, white cum gushed from her gaping hole, pooling under her ass in a thick, sinful puddle that soaked the tatami in seconds.
He stared at her passed-out, twitching form, cock still half-hard, still dripping.
"Already done? Damn… I guess Ajak is still the best." Marshall sighed and complained, not realizing that Ajak was a literal alien machine he could breed forever, while Selene was just a lovely, soft body of human flesh. His beautiful goth.
Still, he let out a satisfied breath and stepped away from the sleeping beauty. His cock slowly relaxing, he went to the window and sat down there, looking outside into the Edo's street like a Geisha just done with her customer.
Man, I could use a smoke and feel like them whores after sex. Maybe I should get Marty to buy me some.
With that intent, butt naked, he walked out of that room. But just as he slid the door open, he chuckled as a usual sight awaited him there on the floor.
"Seriously, Hela?" Marshall said, eyeing the seven foot goddess of Death sitting on the floor by the wall, knees wide, her magical pants gone, her fingers dipping in that lovely tight slit. "I told you, if seeing me fuck ladies gets you going, you can just walk in and have a front row seat."
"Silence!" Hela roared in rage and fumbled to get up to her feet. "I have no such filthy ambitions! Pathetic leech!"
She escaped, her clothes covering her lower body again.
Marshall just chuckled and went to find Marty.
______________________
Check out Peggy Carter & Hela Facefucking NSFW ART, and advance chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 4 long chapters of this story on Patreon. That's equal to 20-24 Webnovel chapters.
Old Free Art on Discord: https://discord.gg/W5FdB6WXaP