Eva's legs trembled as she lowered herself back onto Jay's lap, the command echoing in her fucked-out mind. You're going to talk. The next call was a blur—a quick, fifteen-minute sync with a junior analyst where Jay had her greet the man, her voice shaky and breathless as Jay's softening cock rested inside her. She'd mumbled pleasantries, feeling the slow, warm seep of their combined fluids soaking into Jay's slacks, the analyst none the wiser. When it ended, Jay simply lifted her off, his spent cock slipping out with a wet, trailing sound, and pointed to the floor beside his chair.
"Kneel," he'd said, his own breathing finally steadying. "Clean me up."
She'd done so, her tongue lapping at the mess on his clothes, on his skin, swallowing the bitter-salty mixture until he was mostly clean. Now, she knelt naked before him as he stood, her body a wreck of spent sensation. Her belly was a taut, rounded dome, her cunt a loose, dripping opening. The leather harness felt tight across her swollen breasts, droplets of milk beading at the nipple shields.
Jay looked down at her, his eyes dark and focused. He unbuckled his belt, let his soiled slacks and boxers fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, naked now, his cock heavy and soft against his thigh. He was still magnificent to her, even in repose.
"Stand up," he said, his voice a low rumble.
She pushed herself up, her muscles protesting.
"Turn around. Bend over the desk. Arms out."
A flicker of confusion. They'd just finished. But obedience was her marrow. She turned, placing her palms flat on the cool wooden surface of his desk, spreading her legs. She presented herself—her swollen ass, the glistening, puffy lips of her cunt below, the dark, tight pucker of her asshole above.
She expected his cock. She expected to be filled again.
Instead, she felt his hands on her hips, holding her in place. Then, the heat of his body as he knelt behind her. His breath, hot and humid, washed over her exposed folds, then higher, over the sensitive skin of her perineum, and finally, directly over her asshole.
He didn't kiss it. He inhaled.
A long, deep, audible sniff that made her entire body clench. His nose pressed flush against her tight rosette, nudging between her cheeks. He held it there, breathing in her scent, a low, appreciative groan vibrating against her skin.
"Fuck," he whispered, his voice muffled against her flesh. "This smell, Eva. This fucking smell. It's mine."
He pulled back just an inch. "You know what I think about all day? When I'm in these boring fucking meetings? I think about this." His tongue, broad and wet, lashed out in a single, firm stripe from her dripping cunt, up over her perineum, and right over the center of her asshole. The contact was electric, shocking, deeply intimate. Eva gasped, her fingers curling against the desk.
"I think about the taste of your cunt juice," he continued, his voice a filthy, intimate murmur against her skin. His tongue did it again, another long, slow lick that gathered her wetness and dragged it over her back hole. "I think about the smell of your ass—musky, deep, private. I think about the milk leaking from your tits and the sweat on your skin and the ocean of cum I've pumped into your womb."
His nose pressed against her again, harder this time, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed deeply, obsessively. "It's the best thing in the world, baby girl. It's perfection. It's the smell of you being mine."
His words sent a fresh, shameful thrill through her exhaustion. He wasn't just fucking her; he was consuming her, worshiping her most base, animal scents.
"Now," he said, his hands spreading her cheeks wide, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. "Sit."
"W-what?" she stammered, confused.
"On my face," he growled, his tone leaving no room for question. "I want you to sit on my fucking face. I want your asshole on my nose and your cunt on my mouth. I want to eat you from below while I drown in your smell. Now, Eva."
He shifted, moving to sit on the floor behind her, his back against the side of his desk chair. He lay back, his head on the plush rug, his face turned upward, a dark hunger in his eyes. "Come here. Lower that perfect, filthy ass onto your daddy's face."
Trembling, Eva turned. The sight of him laid out like a feast for her was dizzyingly powerful. His strong body, his intent expression, his mouth already parted. She stood over him, one foot on either side of his ribs. Her swollen belly hung down, obscuring part of her view. Her cunt dripped, a thick droplet of creamy fluid splattering onto his chin.
He smiled, a predator's grin. "That's it. Feed me."
Slowly, her knees shaking, she lowered herself. She guided herself backward, reaching down to spread her own cheeks as she descended. The first contact was his lips, pressed against her lower lips, her swollen clit. A soft, hot connection. Then, as she settled her weight, the firm bridge of his nose aligned perfectly with the cleft of her ass, nudging insistently against her back hole.
She sank the rest of the way, her full weight settling onto his face.
The sensation was immense.
His mouth was sealed over her entire cunt, his nose buried deep between her ass cheeks, the tip practically inside her tight ring of muscle. Her world narrowed to the hot, wet, overwhelming pressure on her pussy and ass. She could feel his breath, hot and rapid, against her most intimate flesh. She could feel his tongue, already moving, a thick, probing muscle that speared into her dripping entrance.
"Glllrrk," he groaned, the sound muffled, vibrating through her core.
Eva cried out, her hands flying back to brace herself on his thighs. She was sitting on her father's face, her asshole pressed against his nose, his tongue buried deep in her cunt. The depravity of it, the sheer ownership of the act, shattered the last fragments of her coherent thought.
Jay began to eat her like a man possessed.
His tongue wasn't gentle. It was a piston, fucking in and out of her slippery hole with rapid, desperate strokes. He slurped at her juices, swallowing audibly, his throat working beneath her. Between thrusts of his tongue, he would seal his lips over her entire mound and suck, pulling her clit and swollen lips into the hot cavern of his mouth, creating a vacuum that made her see stars.
But it was his nose that truly defined the act. He didn't just rest it there. He rooted with it. He ground his face upward, rubbing the bridge of his nose firmly against her asshole, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, again and again. The pressure was constant, insistent, a blunt, intimate prodding against her most forbidden entrance.
"Oh, GOD, Daddy!" she screamed, her body bowing, her head thrown back. Her hips began to move on their own, grinding down against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction.
He answered by sliding his hands up her thighs, his strong fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her cheeks apart even wider, giving his nose even deeper access. He sniffed, a loud, wet, animalistic sound. "Snnnnnnnff! Hnnng!"
"You smell so fucking good!" he growled, his words distorted, buzzing against her soaked flesh. He pulled his mouth away for a second, just to speak, his voice ragged with need. "This ass… this perfect, tight little asshole… it smells like you. It smells like my good girl. It smells like home." He dove back in, his tongue licking a broad stripe from her cunt to her ass, then circling the tight pucker, making her jerk and sob.
His obsession was a tangible force. He was consuming her, not just her fluids, but her very essence, through scent and taste. Every slurp, every sniff, was a prayer of possession.
"Tell me, Eva," he commanded, his tongue plunging back into her cunt, fucking her with it. "Tell me what I'm drinking."
She was mindless, a creature of pure sensation. "M-my… my pussy juice, Daddy!"
"What about it?" he snarled, biting gently at her inner thigh.
"It's… it's yours!" she wailed.
"Damn right it is. And what's it taste like?"
She didn't know. She could only feel. "S-sweet! It tastes sweet!"
"It tastes like fucking heaven!" he corrected her, his voice fervent. "It tastes like your cunt was made to cream for my tongue. And your ass…" He shoved his face upward, his nose drilling into her. "Your ass smells like sin. It smells like the dirtiest, most perfect part of you. And I want to live in it."
He switched his focus then, his mouth leaving her weeping cunt and moving higher. His tongue, slick with her juices, pressed flat against her asshole. He licked it like an ice cream cone, broad, slow, worshipful strokes that had her screaming. Then he pointed his tongue and pressed.
The intrusion was slow, inexorable. The tight ring of muscle resisted for a heartbeat, then yielded to the wet, persistent pressure. The tip of his tongue slipped inside her ass.
Eva shrieked. The feeling was unbelievable—a hot, wet, violating penetration in a place that had never been touched, not like this. It was filthy. It was sacred. It was everything.
He tongue-fucked her ass with the same desperation he'd fucked her cunt, shallow, probing thrusts that stretched her open. All the while, his nose was buried in the crease below, sniffing, inhaling the musky scent of her perineum and the heady aroma of her arousal.
"Your fluids," he panted, pulling his tongue out only to dive back into her cunt, drinking deeply from the fresh gush his anal play had triggered. "The milk from your tits, the squirt from your cunt, the sweat from your skin, the musk from this perfect little ass… it's all nectar, Eva. It's all mine to drink. It's the best fucking thing in this world. Better than money. Better than power. It's you."
His words carved a new path in her corrupted mind. Her shame wasn't just being eroded; it was being replaced. Replaced with a perverse pride. He thinks I'm the best thing in the world. My filth is his treasure.
His hands moved from her ass to her hips, guiding her, lifting her slightly. "Ride it, baby. Ride my face. Fuck my tongue with your cunt."
She obeyed, finding a rhythm. She rose up on her knees, then sank back down, impaling her dripping pussy on his thrusting tongue, grinding her ass against his nose and mouth. The sounds were obscene—wet, sloppy schlorps and slurps, punctuated by his guttural groans and her own high-pitched cries.
"Yes! Fuck! Just like that! Use my face, you dirty little slut! Snnnff! God, I can smell your cunt and your ass at the same time! It's fucking intoxicating!"
She was climbing again, a new, different orgasm building from the deep, dual stimulation—the rough, fucking pleasure of his tongue in her cunt and the shocking, intimate violation of his attention on her ass. Her body was coiling tight, every muscle tensing.
"Daddy… I'm gonna… I'm gonna squirt!" she warned, her voice breaking.
"Do it!" he roared, his voice vibrating against her clit. "Soak my face! Let me drink it all! I want to swallow every drop that comes out of this perfect pussy!"
The permission was the final trigger. Her body exploded.
It wasn't a gentle flow this time. It was a violent, pressurized gush. A torrent of clear, sweet fluid erupted from her urethra, splattering directly into his waiting mouth. Splurt! Splurt-splurt-SQUIRT! It poured out in a continuous, pulsing stream, drenching his chin, his nose, his cheeks. He drank greedily, gulping it down as it came, his throat working furiously. Some of it splashed up, hitting his forehead, his closed eyes.
Her cunt clenched around nothing, spasming wildly as she squirted, her asshole fluttering against the bridge of his nose. She was a fountain, a geyser of release, and he was the basin, eagerly collecting every drop.
When the last pulse subsided, she collapsed forward, catching herself on her hands, her ass still in the air, still planted on his face. She was panting, sobbing, utterly spent.
Jay didn't let up. As the squirt slowed to a trickle, he went back to licking, cleaning her tender flesh, lapping up the remnants from her thighs, her lips, everywhere. His nose was still buried, sniffing contentedly now, as if savoring the aftermath.
Finally, with a last, long lick, he gently pushed her up. She stumbled off him, collapsing onto the rug beside his head, her body a boneless heap.
He sat up, his face glistening—wet with her squirt, her juices, his own saliva. He looked utterly debauched, triumphant. He turned to her, his eyes blazing. "Look at me," he said.
She looked. His face was her masterpiece.
"This," he said, wiping a finger through the mess on his chin and holding it up. "This is art. This is worship." He brought the finger to his mouth and sucked it clean with a loud, deliberate pop.
Then he crawled over to her, caging her with his body. His cock, now fully hard again, jutted against her thigh. The smell of her own arousal was thick on his skin.
"I'm never getting enough," he whispered, his lips brushing hers. She could taste herself on him—salty, sweet, musky. "I'll drink from you until the day I die. Your cunt, your ass, your tits… you're my personal fucking fountain, Eva. And I'm the only one who gets to drink."
He kissed her then, a deep, filthy kiss, sharing her own taste with her. His hand slid between her legs, two fingers easily sliding into her sodden, gaping hole. He scooped out a thick glob of the creamy, mixed fluids inside her—his old cum, her new juices. He broke the kiss and held his fingers to her lips.
"Eat it," he commanded, his eyes locked on hers. "Taste what we make together."
Without hesitation, she opened her mouth and sucked his fingers clean, swallowing the potent cocktail. It was the best thing in the world. It was them.
He smiled, a real, darkly joyful smile. "Good girl." He looked at the clock. "My last meeting is in an hour. A video call with Richard from legal. He's a sharp fucker. Observant."
He leaned down, his lips against her ear. "I want you under my desk. On your knees. And I want you to suck my cock the entire time. I want you to look up at me with those pretty, fucked-out eyes while I talk mergers and acquisitions. And when I cum, you're going to swallow it all, and then you're going to show me your empty mouth on camera. A little secret for me and him. Can you do that for me, baby girl?"
------X------
The first thing Eva registered was the taste. Salty skin, the musky, sleep-warm scent of his groin, the faint, bitter pre-cum already beading at the slit of his soft cock resting against her cheek. Morning light, pale and weak, filtered through the blinds, striping the rumpled sheets and Jay's sleeping form. He was on his back, one arm thrown over his head, his breathing deep and even. The monumental swell of his chest rose and fell.
Her own body was a live wire of need. She hadn't slept. Not really. Her mind had been a feverish whirlpool, circling around his words from the day before, a mantra that had burned away any hope of rest. I want to live in it. It's all nectar. It's all mine to drink.
She'd lain beside him for hours, feeling the slow, warm seep of his previous loads still inside her, a constant, possessive reminder. Her tits ached, heavy and full, a slow, sticky leak of milk dampening the sheets beneath her. But it was a different emptiness, a different offering, that had kept her awake.
Now, driven by a resolve that felt both terrifying and inevitable, she moved. She nuzzled lower, her nose brushing through the coarse, dark hair at the base of his cock. She inhaled deeply, her lungs filling with his pure, masculine scent—sleep, sweat, sex, him. It was her favorite aroma in the world. With a reverence that bordered on worship, she opened her mouth and took the soft, heavy weight of his balls, first one, then the other, onto her tongue.
She suckled gently, bathing them in the wet heat of her mouth, her tongue tracing the thick cords of his sac. A low, unconscious groan rumbled in his chest. His hips twitched. Encouraged, she moved upward, her lips leaving a slick trail along the underside of his shaft. She kissed the broad, flared head, her tongue darting out to collect the pearl of pre-cum. It was thick, potent, the flavor exploding on her tongue—bitter, salty, essential. She swallowed it with a soft, hungry sound.
Then she took him in, deep, her mouth stretching to accommodate his girth even as he began to swell and harden against her palate. She sucked, a firm, pulling pressure, her head beginning to bob in a slow, practiced rhythm.
Jay's breathing changed. It hitched, then deepened. A hand came down, not pushing her away, but tangling in her hair, fisting the strands. His cock surged to full, rigid life in her throat, making her eyes water. She relaxed her jaw, taking him deeper, until her nose was buried in his pubic hair and the head of his cock was nudging the tight entrance of her esophagus. Gllrk.
"Fuck," he rasped, his voice gravelly with sleep. His eyes opened, hazy with dreams that she was now violently, wonderfully interrupting. He looked down the length of his body, watching her blonde head work his cock. "That's one hell of an alarm clock, baby girl."
She pulled off with a wet, sucking pop, a string of saliva and pre-cum connecting her lips to his glistening tip. She didn't let go of him, her hand stroking the thick, veiny shaft as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and serious in the dim light. "I couldn't sleep, Daddy."
He smiled, a slow, lazy curl of his lips. His thumb stroked her cheek. "Too horny? My cum still bubbling in that greedy little womb?"
"No. I mean, yes, always," she breathed, nuzzling into his hand. "But it was your words. What you said yesterday. It… it stuck in me."
His gaze sharpened, the sleep melting away, replaced by that dark, focused intensity that saw right through her. "What words, Eva?"
"You said… you said you loved everything that comes out of me. That it's all nectar. That you want to drink it all." She took a shaky breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was the plunge. "You drink my milk. You swallow my squirt. You lick my sweat. You eat my pussy juice. You… you even sniff my ass, Daddy. You worship it."
He nodded slowly, his hand still in her hair, his cock throbbing against her palm. "Every fucking drop. Every scent. It's mine. It's perfect."
"But there's a part you're missing," she whispered, the words feeling both filthy and holy. "A… a whole offering I've never been able to give you. You've never had anything from my ass."
His fingers tightened in her hair. A sharp, predatory interest flashed in his eyes. "Go on."
The dam broke. The plan she'd agonized over all night came tumbling out in a rushed, eager whisper. "I want you to have it. All of it. I want to get an enema every morning. A deep, cleansing one. And I want to… to expel it. Not in the toilet. Directly into your mouth. So you can drink it. So you can have that taste, that part of me, too." She saw his eyes widen, his breath catch. She pressed on, the corruption complete, her modesty incinerated in the furnace of his obsession. "And that's not all. Our meals… I want to… to insert them. Into my ass. Let my body process them just a little, and then… then I shit them directly into your mouth. So you can taste our food, mixed with me. With my ass flavor. And I'll drink so much water, Daddy, gallons of it, just so I can piss for you. Frequently. Right into your mouth. I want you to have every fluid. Every single one that isn't… isn't that. The actual… solid… you shouldn't have to eat that. But everything else? It's yours. It's all for you."
She finished, trembling, watching his face. For a terrifying second, he was utterly still. Then a tremor went through him. His eyes, fixed on hers, began to shine with a wet, overwhelming emotion. His throat worked. His grip on her hair softened, becoming a caress.
"Eva," he breathed, the word sounding cracked, reverent. "My God. My perfect, filthy, ingenious girl." A tear, actual and undeniable, tracked from the corner of his eye into his temple. "You've been thinking about this? All night? Figuring out how to give me more of yourself?"
She nodded, tears springing to her own eyes at his reaction. "I want you to have everything, Daddy. I don't want there to be a single part of me you don't consume."
He pulled her up, his mouth crashing onto hers in a kiss that was pure, unadulterated joy. It was messy, passionate, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, claiming her all over again. When he broke away, he was grinning, a bright, boyish grin she rarely saw. He looked happy. Truly, deeply happy.
"It's the most beautiful fucking thing anyone has ever said to me," he declared, his voice thick. "It's a gift. A sacrament. Yes. A thousand times, yes." He kissed her again, sucking her lower lip. "We start now. The enema. The first offering. Show me."
The practicalities were suddenly, thrillingly real. Eva scrambled off the bed, her naked body alight with purpose. She went to the master bathroom, Jay following close behind, his erect cock bobbing with each step. From a high cabinet, she pulled out a small, discreet box she'd purchased online months ago during a furtive, shame-filled shopping spree she'd never had the courage to act on. It contained a premium silicone enema bag, a hose, and a smooth, tapered nozzle.
Her hands shook as she assembled it at the double sink. Jay watched, mesmerized, leaning against the doorway, stroking his cock slowly. "Use warm water," he instructed, his voice husky. "Very warm. As much as you can take. I want it deep, baby. I want to clean you out perfectly for me."
She nodded, filling the bag with warm water from the tap, letting it run until it was almost hot to the touch. She hung the bag from the shower curtain rod. The clear hose dangled, the nozzle gleaming under the bathroom lights.
"On the floor," Jay said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "On your hands and knees. Present that beautiful ass to me. I want to watch it take every drop."
Eva obeyed, the cool tile a shock against her knees and palms. She arched her back, pushing her ass high into the air. Her cunt, already wet and dripping from the excitement, gleamed below. Above, her asshole, that tight, pink pucker he adored, was clenched tight with anticipation.
She heard him move, then felt his hands on her cheeks, spreading them wide. His breath washed over her exposed hole. "Snnnff. God, even now. That sleepy, musky morning smell. This is the last time I'll smell it with yesterday's traces inside. After this, it'll be pure. Clean. Ready to be filled with our food. For me." He kissed the very center, a soft, lingering press of his lips that made her whimper. "Do it, Eva. Give yourself to me."
Reaching back, her hand trembled as she guided the slick, silicone nozzle to her entrance. The tip was cool, a contrast to the warm water in the bag. She pressed. Her body resisted, the tight ring of muscle clenching defensively.
"Relax," Jay crooned, his thumb stroking her perineum. "Open up for Daddy. Let it in. Let me clean you."
She exhaled, pushing past the instinctive tightness. The nozzle's tip popped past the guardian ring, and then it was sliding in, an alien, stretching intrusion. She gasped as it penetrated deeper, two, then three inches, until the flared base settled against her opening.
"Now," Jay whispered, his eyes glued to the point where her body was impaled by the tube. "Open the valve."
She reached up, fumbling for the little clamp on the hose. She released it.
A warm flood rushed into her.
It was a shocking, immense sensation. A ballooning fullness that had nothing to do with cock or cum. This was a deep, internal deluge, a liquid invasion that filled her colon, spreading through chambers of her body she never thought about. A low, guttural groan escaped her as she felt the water coursing through the tube, gurgling softly as it filled her.
"That's it," Jay murmured, his hand moving to rest on the small of her back. "Take it all. Feel it filling you up for me. You're such a good girl. My perfect little enema slut."
The bag slowly deflated. The pressure inside her built and built. It wasn't painful, but it was intense—a heavy, sloshing distention that made her feel profoundly occupied. Her belly, already softly rounded from his perpetual breeding, began to push outward further, growing taut and firm under the volume of warm water. She could feel it, a liquid weight low in her gut, a pressure that begged for release.
"Nnngh… Daddy… so full," she moaned, her arms shaking as she held the position.
"I know, baby. I can see it." His voice was full of awe. He was staring at her swollen abdomen, at the hose still connected to her stretched hole. "You look fucking incredible. A vessel. My vessel." When the bag was empty, he reached up and closed the clamp himself. "Leave the nozzle in. Hold it. Hold it all inside for me. For a few minutes. Let it work. Let it get nice and deep."
Those minutes were an eternity of exquisite torture. The fullness was a constant, pressing presence. She could feel tiny bubbles of air shifting inside her, a soft, internal slosh when she swayed slightly. Her need to expel it became a primal, overwhelming urge. Her asshole clenched rhythmically around the silicone intrusion, trying to push it out.
Jay watched it all, his cock leaking steadily onto the tile floor. He knelt behind her, his face inches from her stretched entrance, watching the way her muscles fluttered and jumped around the nozzle. He sniffed again, deeply. "The smell is changing already," he noted, his voice clinical and lustful at once. "Cleaner. Purer. Just the smell of your beautiful, empty channel, waiting to be used."
Finally, he nodded. "Okay, my love. It's time. Time for the offering." He helped her to her feet, her legs wobbly. The weight inside her shifted, a heavy, liquid landslide that made her gasp. He led her back to the bedroom, to the middle of the rug where the morning sun was now a stronger beam. "On your back," he commanded. "Legs up and open. I want to see everything."
She lay down, the position making the pressure even more acute. She pulled her knees to her chest, spreading herself wide, presenting her bloated belly, her dripping cunt, and the nozzle still protruding from her ass.
Jay positioned himself between her legs, on his knees. He leaned forward, his face hovering over her groin. He didn't go for her cunt. His focus was entirely on the nozzle. With gentle, precise fingers, he gripped the base. "Ready?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers, blazing with devotion and hunger.
She nodded, biting her lip. "For you, Daddy. Always for you."
He pulled the nozzle out in one smooth, slow motion.
Pllllop.
The sensation of it sliding free was a shock of emptiness, but it was immediately eclipsed by the volcanic pressure demanding release. Her body seized, her abdominal muscles contracting violently of their own accord.
"Now," Jay breathed, and he lowered his mouth. Not to her pussy, but directly over her asshole. He sealed his lips tight around the dilated, puffy opening, his nose buried in her perineum, his chin resting against her dripping cunt slit.
The seal was perfect. And her body could hold back no longer.
With a guttural, animalistic cry from Eva and a muffured, eager groan from Jay, the floodgates opened.
It wasn't a trickle. It was a warm, powerful gush of water, straight from the deepest part of her colon, out through her stretched hole, and directly into Jay's waiting mouth.
GLRRRK. SPLOOSH. GURGLE.
The sounds were obscenely loud in the quiet room. Eva could feel the torrent leaving her, a rushing, emptying sensation that was both a profound relief and the most intimate act of her life. She could feel the muscles of his throat working against her sensitive rim as he swallowed, gulping down the warm, slightly soapy-tasting fluid.
He drank it all.
He didn't pull away, didn't sputter. He held the seal, his hands coming up to grip her hips, anchoring her to his face as her body convulsed, expelling the enema water in a continuous, strong stream. She could see the muscles in his neck working, hear the wet, hungry swallows. Gulp. Gulp. Glrk.
The pressure inside her lessened, the taut swell of her belly subsiding. But the feeling… the feeling of him drinking so greedily, so willingly, from her ass, was unlocking something cataclysmic in her core. Her cunt, ignored and weeping, suddenly clenched around nothing, and a different kind of flood began. A hot, silky gush of her own arousal, of pure, unadulterated squirt, erupted from her urethra, splashing over his chin, his neck, mingling with the enema water at the edges of his mouth.
He felt it. His eyes, which had been squeezed shut in concentration, flew open. They met hers, and she saw unadulterated ecstasy in them. He was drinking from her ass while she squirted from the sheer deviance of it. It was too much. The dual sensations—the emptying, the watching, the sheer taboo of the act—hurled her over the edge.
Her orgasm ripped through her with no warning, a silent, seismic event. Her body arched off the rug, a strangled scream trapped in her throat. Her cunt sprayed another jet of clear fluid, and her asshole, still pressed to his mouth, fluttered and pulsed around the diminishing stream of water.
Jay's swallowing became frantic, eager. He was consuming her release, her purification, her offering, all at once. Finally, the torrent from her ass slowed to a trickle, then to a few last, drips. He sucked gently, coaxing out the final drops, his tongue flicking over her sensitive, well-used opening, cleaning it.
Only then did he pull back.
He sat up on his knees, his chest heaving. His face was drenched—with the enema water, with her squirt, with his own saliva. Water droplets clung to his eyelashes. He looked utterly, blissfully wrecked. He opened his mouth, showing her, then closed it and swallowed one last time with an audible gulp.
"Fuck," he panted, his voice raw. He wiped the back of his hand across his wet mouth, but he was smiling, a dazed, beatific smile. "Eva… that was… fuck."
He crawled up her body, collapsing beside her, pulling her into his arms. Her body was still trembling with aftershocks. He kissed her temple, her forehead, her lips. She could taste the faint, clean, unique flavor on his tongue—her flavor, from inside.
"You did it," he whispered against her lips. "You gave me your first offering. And it was perfect. Clean, warm, yours. I've never tasted anything like it. It's… it's empty. It's pure you. The canvas before the painting." He kissed her again, deeply. "My clever, perfect girl. You've thought of everything. My own personal ecosystem."
He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, settling her head on his chest. His heartbeat was a wild drum under her ear. "Today," he said, his voice full of wonder and dark promise, "we start the next part. We'll have a big breakfast. And then, my love, you're going to learn how to insert it. And by lunchtime…" He trailed off, his hand stroking her hair.
Eva nuzzled into him, a profound, corrosive peace settling over her. The last barrier was gone. He would have it all. Every fluid. She was truly, completely, his.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"I'm so happy."
He squeezed her tighter. "You've made me the happiest man in the world, Eva. You have no idea."
The morning sun climbed higher, painting them in light. The day, and its new, filthy rituals, had just begun.
------X------
The office hummed with a low, electronic quiet, broken only by the muffled cadence of Jay's voice from behind his closed door. Eva sat at her small, sleek desk outside, her body a live circuit of anticipation. Between her thighs, a slow, steady seep of wetness had already soaked through the gusset of her sheer panties, a constant reminder of the morning's devotions. The memory of his mouth sealed to her ass, drinking deep, sent a fresh, shivering pulse through her cunt. Her nipples, shielded by the cold chrome caps of the milking harness, ached with a dull, full throb.
She'd spent the last hour in a state of suspended, filthy grace, her mind rehearsing the steps. The large, lidded container of leftover fettuccine alfredo sat in the office's small kitchenette fridge, cool and ready. The plan was precise: two hours before lunch, she would insert it. The logic was obsessively clean: her colon, emptied and purified by the morning's enema, was now a pristine vessel, ready to be filled not with waste, but with an offering. Their lunch, processed first by her, then presented to him.
The corruption was absolute. The thought of what she was about to do didn't bring a flicker of shame, only a hot, slick coil of need in her belly. She wanted him to have it. She wanted to feel their food inside her, marinating in her unique, internal flavor, before he consumed it. It was the ultimate communion.
Jay's office door clicked open. He stood there, loosening his tie, his eyes finding hers instantly. They were dark, hungry, and focused with a predatory intent that made her pussy clench. "Come in," he said, his voice a low command. "Close the door."
She followed, the click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in the silent room. He didn't go to his desk. He leaned back against it, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "It's time, isn't it? About two hours till lunch."
Eva's breath hitched. "Yes, Daddy."
"You're ready? You know what to do?"
"I've been thinking about it all morning," she confessed, her voice trembling with eagerness. "I'm so ready. I want you to taste it. I want to feel it inside me, for you."
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "Fuck, that's my girl. Go get it. Bring it in here. I want to watch you prepare."
A thrill shot through her. She hadn't expected him to want to watch the insertion itself. The vulnerability of it, the clinical yet deeply intimate act, sent a fresh flood of arousal soaking her panties. She nodded, turning on her heel, her stockings whispering as she hurried to the kitchenette.
She returned with the glass container, a large-bore silicone kitchen syringe (purchased for "culinary purposes"), and a tube of slick, clear lubricant. She set them on the low coffee table before the leather sofa. Jay settled into an armchair, his gaze a physical weight on her.
"Strip from the waist down," he instructed, his voice rough. "I want to see that perfect ass. I want to see the hole I drank from this morning, clean and empty and waiting for its first real filling."
Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of her tiny skirt, then the garter clips. She pushed the stockings down, stepping out of them, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her soaked lace panties. She peeled them down, the cool office air kissing her wet folds and the still-sensitive pucker of her asshole. She stood before him, naked from the waist down, the black leather harness and her massive, milk-heavy tits making her look like a depraved, living doll.
"On your hands and knees on the rug. Present it."
Eva obeyed, assuming the position that was becoming as natural as breathing. She arched her back, pushing her ass high, spreading her knees wide. Her cunt lips, plump and glistening, peeked from below, already dripping a clear string of arousal onto the Persian rug. Above, her asshole, the pink, wrinkled star he worshipped, was clenched tight, virgin-like in its appearance despite the morning's invasion.
She heard him move, then felt his heat as he knelt behind her. His hands, warm and possessive, grasped her ass cheeks, spreading them wider. His breath washed over her, and then the wet, hot swipe of his tongue, licking a broad, flat stripe from her dripping slit all the way up to her tailbone.
"Nnngh! Daddy!" she gasped, her elbows buckling.
"Snnnfff. Still smells so clean. Like warm water and you. Just the pure, empty scent of my Eva's perfect little ass channel." He buried his nose between her cheeks, inhaling deeply, groaning into her flesh. "But we're going to change that. We're going to make it smell like us. Like our lunch, and my cum, and your beautiful, filthy insides." He kissed the pucker, a soft, sucking kiss that made her hole twitch. "Prepare the offering."
Trembling, Eva reached for the syringe. She unscrewed the lid of the pasta container. The scent of garlic, cream, and parmesan filled the space. Using a fork, she carefully loaded the syringe, packing the soft, cool noodles and creamy sauce into the cylinder. She coated the blunt, tapered tip liberally with lube.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was it. The first true, solid offering. She looked back over her shoulder, meeting Jay's burning eyes. He was stroking himself through his slacks, his cock a visible, thick ridge.
"Do it," he breathed. "Fill your ass with our lunch, baby girl. Make yourself a fucking buffet for me."
Guiding the tip back, she pressed it against her tight entrance. She took a deep breath, pushing her hips back against it. The resistance was firm, her body unused to such a substantial, non-liquid intrusion. She pushed harder, grunting with the effort.
"Pop."
The tip slid in, the stretch a burning, full sensation that was utterly different from the enema nozzle. This was solid, a packing fullness. She whimpered, pausing as her body adjusted.
"That's it," Jay coached, his hand smoothing over her lower back. "Take it. Open up for your lunch, you greedy little ass slut. It's going to live inside you, just for a little while. Just for me."
Emboldened, she depressed the plunger.
A thick, cool, squishing mass of pasta began to push into her colon. The sensation was profoundly alien, a deep, internal packing that stretched her inner walls in a way water never could. She could feel the individual noodles, the slick sauce, sliding in a dense, pasty column deep inside her. Schlllrp. Glorp.
"Oh, fuck… oh my God…" she chanted, her forehead dropping to her forearms. The fullness was immense, a heavy, solid weight settling low in her gut. She pushed the plunger all the way, emptying the syringe. Her belly, already softly rounded, began to distend further, a noticeable bulge forming just above her pubic bone.
"Fuck yes," Jay hissed, watching her body deform. "Look at that. You're already full of me, and now you're full of us. You're a fucking masterpiece, Eva." He pulled the empty syringe from her hole with a soft plut. Her asshole gaped for a second, a slick, dark circle, before clenching shut around the intrusion.
Eva panted, feeling the dense, cool mass inside her. It was a constant, pressing presence. She was profoundly, indelibly filled.
"Again," Jay commanded, his voice thick. "Fill her up. I want her packed. I want to feel it when I fuck you."
Shaking, Eva reloaded the syringe. The second insertion was easier, her channel already stretched and accepting. Another dense load of pasta pushed deep, joining the first. Her stomach swelled more, becoming taut and firm, a clear, rounded dome that pushed out against the leather harness. She was stuffed. She could barely move without feeling the heavy, sloshing shift inside her.
After the third and final syringe, she collapsed onto her side, breathing heavily. Her belly was a firm, prominent mound. She looked pregnant, but not with a child—with a filthy, culinary secret.
Jay was on her in an instant. He rolled her onto her back, his hands roaming over her distended abdomen, pressing down gently. A soft, internal squish answered the pressure. "Fucking hell," he whispered, awe-struck. "You can feel it. It's all in there. Our lunch." He leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. She could taste the pasta on her own tongue, mixed with his hunger. His hands went between her legs, his fingers sliding through her soaked folds and finding her clit, which was throbbing like a second heartbeat.
"You're so wet," he growled against her lips. "Does having a loaded ass make your cunt drip, you filthy whore?"
"Yes! Oh God, yes, Daddy! It's so full, I can feel it… and I know it's for you… hnnngh!" His fingers circled her clit, and her back arched off the rug, a strangled cry tearing from her throat.
"We were supposed to wait for lunch," he murmured, his voice a dark, tempting rumble as he trailed biting kisses down her neck, over the swell of a tit, sucking a milk-leaking nipple through the harness shield. "But I can't. I need to be inside you. I need to fuck this packed, perfect ass right now."
The words were a lightning strike to her core. "Please," she begged, her hands scrambling at his belt. "Please, Daddy, fuck my ass! I need it! I'm so full, I need your cock in there too! Breed my ass!"
With a feral growl, he stood, shoving his slacks and boxers down in one violent motion. His cock sprang free, fully erect, thick and veiny and already leaking a steady stream of pre-cum that dripped onto her swollen belly. He dropped to his knees, spreading her legs wide, his face burying between her cunt lips first, lapping up her juices with loud, hungry slurps.
"Gotta taste this pussy while your ass is full of my lunch," he grunted, his tongue spearing into her hole. "Fuck, you're sweet. You're celebrating." He ate her out with a brutal, focused intensity, his nose mashing against her clit, until she was screaming, her heels digging into the rug, her body bowing with a sudden, violent orgasm that sprayed her squirt over his chin and chest.
He didn't let her come down. He moved up her body, his cock, slick with her juices and his own pre-cum, nudging against her asshole. He used his thumb to spread lube over his shaft, then pressed the broad, mushroom head against her tightly clenched rosette.
"This is going to stretch you, baby," he warned, his eyes locked on hers. "You're already full of pasta. Now you're going to be full of my cock. You're going to take it all."
"Do it," she panted, her eyes wild. "Ruin my ass, Daddy! Make it yours!"
He pushed.
The stretch was monstrous. Her asshole, already distended from the pasta packing, had to open even further to accommodate the invading girth of his cock. It was a burning, tearing, blissful pain. She screamed, a raw, ragged sound, as the fat head popped past her outer ring and began to sink in.
"Fuuuuck! Oh, GOD! It's so big! You're splitting me!" she wailed, her nails scrabbling at his shoulders.
"Shhhh, take it, take it, you perfect ass whore," he chanted, his voice strained with the effort of his slow, relentless invasion. "Feel it? Feel your lunch inside you? Feel how my cock is pushing against it? I'm fucking you and our meal, Eva. I'm fucking everything inside you."
He was. As he sank deeper, inch by brutal, glorious inch, she could feel the dense mass of pasta inside her colon being compressed, shifted, rearranged by the advancing column of his cock. It created a deep, internal pressure that bordered on overwhelming. Her belly felt impossibly full, stretched to its limit from the inside out. She could hear a wet, squelching slorch with each incremental gain he made.
Finally, his hips met the full, round curve of her ass. He was buried to the hilt. His balls rested heavily against her dripping cunt. He was inside her ass, his cock buried in a channel packed with their food. He held still for a moment, both of them panting, sweating, trembling with the intensity of the connection.
"You feel that?" he gasped. "You feel how full you are? Your ass is hugging my cock like a fucking vise, and it's full of pasta. This is the most fucked-up, beautiful thing I've ever felt."
"I feel it… I feel everything… you're so deep… you're in my ass…" she sobbed, the sensations crashing over her in waves of pain-pleasure.
He began to move.
The first slow withdrawal was an agony of emptiness, her stretched ring clinging to his shaft. The thrust back in was a revelation of fullness. The squish and gurgle from inside her were loud, obscene, pornographic music. He set a slow, deep, grinding rhythm, each thrust mashing his cockhead against the internal wall of pasta, each withdrawal making her feel hollowed out before he filled her again.
"Smell it," he grunted, leaning forward to nip at her ear. "Snnnff the air, baby. Smell our lunch. Smell my cock fucking your ass. It's all mixing. It's all becoming one."
The air was thick with the scent of garlic, cream, sex, and her own unique musk. It was the aroma of their corruption, their union. It drove her wild. Her cunt, untouched, gushed another hot stream of arousal, soaking the rug beneath them.
His pace increased. The slapping of his balls against her cunt, the wet, rhythmic thwaps of his hips meeting her ass, the internal squelches and glurks—it was a symphony of depravity. He fucked her ass with a possessive, desperate fury, as if trying to imprint himself on her very insides, to mix his essence with the food that she would later expel for him.
"I'm gonna cum!" he roared, his rhythm becoming erratic, brutal. "I'm gonna fill your stuffed ass with my seed, Eva! I'm gonna breed this fucking hole!"
"DO IT!" she screamed, her own climax coiling, triggered by his words, by the brutal fullness, by the sheer psychological filth of it all. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up! Breed me!"
His control shattered.
With a final, savage thrust that buried his cock to the root and made her see stars, he came.
Inside her ass.
The sensation was cataclysmic. From her internal perspective, it was a geyser of pure, volcanic heat erupting at the deepest point of her already-packed colon. The head of his cock, nestled amidst the dense pasta, suddenly pulsed, and the first thick, viscous jet of cum splattered against the internal walls, coating the noodles and sauce in a layer of searing white.
Pulse. Another torrent, even hotter, flooding the cramped space. His cum wasn't just dripping; it was a surge, a flood of hyperspermia that sought to fill every crevice. She could feel it, a hot, liquid pressure behind the solid mass of food, pushing against it, seeking room. The warmth spread through her lower belly, a seeping, claiming heat that mingled with the coolness of the pasta.
Pulse. A third, seemingly endless jet. His shaft swelled and throbbed within her clenched channel, each throb pumping another gallon of seed deep into her bowels. The pressure inside her became astronomical. Her stomach, already distended, seemed to push outward another fraction, growing taut and round as a drum. It was a dual fullness—the dense, solid mass of food, and now the hot, liquid flood of his cum, swirling together in the deepest, darkest part of her.
"FUUUUCK!" Jay bellowed, his body seizing as he rode the tidal wave of his orgasm, pumping her ass full, his cum mixing with the pasta in a vile, intimate soup that existed only for them.
The feeling of being so utterly filled, so used, so claimed in this most forbidden of ways, hurled Eva over the edge. Her asshole spasmed wildly around his still-spurting cock, milking him for every drop. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and she squirted again, a helpless, arching gush that painted her own thighs and the rug. Her vision whited out. Her mind dissolved into a static roar of pure, unadulterated fuck.
For a long minute, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the wet, soft drip of her squirt from the sofa edge to the floor. Jay, spent, collapsed on top of her, his softening cock slowly slipping from her well-used, gaping hole with a wet, messy schluck.
A warm, thick trickle of white followed, dripping down her perineum to mix with the puddle of her own juices. But the vast majority of his load remained inside her, trapped behind the pasta plug, a hot, heavy reservoir in her guts.
He rolled off, pulling her against him. His hands roamed over her hugely distended belly, caressing the firm, round swell. "Look at you," he breathed, his voice full of wonder. "You're carrying my cum and our lunch in your ass. You're a fucking miracle."
She could only nod, boneless and wrecked. She felt like a overstuffed parcel, heavy and full and blissfully content. The mixture inside her was a constant, sloshing, warm presence.
Time blurred. They dozed lightly on the rug, a tangle of limbs and sweat and cooling fluids. When Eva's eyes fluttered open, the digital clock on Jay's desk read 12:58 PM. Lunchtime.
Jay was already sitting up, watching her. His eyes were clear, focused. "It's time for the main course," he said, a slow smile spreading. "You've marinated long enough. Are you ready to serve me, baby girl?"
Eva's heart hammered. The moment was here. She pushed herself up, her belly making the movement awkward, weighted. "Yes, Daddy."
He stood, going to his desk chair. He sat down, rolling it back from the desk. He was still naked from the waist down, his cock soft and spent but glistening with their mixed fluids. He patted his thighs. "Bring your plate. Sit on my lap. Facing me."
She moved stiffly, retrieving the now-room-temperature container of pasta. She brought a fork. She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, her massively distended belly pressing between them. Her asshole, loose and gaping, was positioned directly over his lap.
"Now," Jay said, his voice calm, instructional, as if discussing a quarterly report. "You're going to eat your lunch. Normally. Like a good girl. And while you eat…" He leaned his head back, opening his mouth wide, like a baby bird waiting to be fed. "…you're going to push out what's in your ass. Directly into my mouth. The pasta. My cum. All of it. Let me taste what we made together inside you."
The filth of the instruction made her cunt, sore and well-fucked, give a weak, interested throb. She nodded, her hands trembling as she opened the container. She twirled a forkful of the clean, uneaten pasta. She lifted it to her lips, taking a bite. The flavors of garlic and parmesan exploded on her tongue. It was delicious.
As she began to chew, she focused on the immense pressure in her lower body. She bore down.
It took effort. Her asshole, stretched and tired, had to dilate again. She grunted, pushing, her abdominal muscles contracting.
Plllrrrrt.
A wet, thick stream of pasta, now mushy from its time inside her and soaked in Jay's thick cum, began to exit her. It wasn't a solid log; it was a soft, semi-liquid extrusion, a creamy, beige slurry. It fell in a warm, continuous rope directly into Jay's waiting, open mouth.
SPLOOSH. GLRK.
His eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy as the first wave hit his tongue. He closed his lips around the stream, swallowing eagerly. The sounds were grotesquely wet, loud, and intimate. Eva watched, mesmerized, as she chewed her own bite of pasta, swallowing it down her own throat while she fed the ass-marinated version down his.
The taste, for Jay, was transformative. It was the familiar pasta, but deeply altered—warmer, musky, imbued with the unique, tangy-sweet flavor of her intestinal lining and the rich, salty cream of his own semen. It was the ultimate taste of possession, of circular consumption. He gulped it down, his throat working, his hands coming up to grip her hips, urging her to push out more.
Squish. Glorp. Gulp.
Eva took another bite, moaning around her food as another heavy wave of the mixture pushed out of her and into his mouth. The sensation of emptying her ass while eating, of seeing his absolute bliss as he consumed it, unlocked a deep, perverse pride in her. She was providing. She was sustaining him in the most fundamental, filthy way possible.
She ate. She shat into his mouth. He drank it down, his eyes locked on hers, tears of joy and devotion streaming down his cheeks to mix with the sludge on his chin.
She was halfway through her plate when the torrent from her ass began to slow, turning from a stream to a trickle, then to a few last, thick drips. Jay sucked greedily, cleaning her rim with his tongue, swallowing the final drops. He let out a long, shuddering sigh of utter satiation.
Eva swallowed her last bite of clean pasta. They were both still, breathing heavily. Jay's mouth was a mess, his chin glazed with the beige, cum-laced slurry. He looked up at her, his expression one of pure, beatific reverence.
"Eva," he slurred, his voice thick with her ass-offering. "That was… that was the best meal of my life. You are… you are everything."
He pulled her down, crushing his filthy mouth to hers. She tasted it then—the pasta, the musk, his cum, all filtered through her body and returned to her on his tongue. It was the kiss of complete corruption, of absolute unity. She kissed him back, passionately, devouring the taste of their shared, filthy sacrament.
------X------
The rich, heavy scent of garlic and cream still seemed to cling to the air in Jay's office, a ghost of their lunchtime sacrament. Eva lay curled against him on the leather sofa, her head on his chest, her hand absently stroking the incredible, softened dome of her belly. It was mostly empty now, just a lingering, warm hollowness and the faintest internal ache of profound use. Her asshole twitched periodically, a fluttering, loose reminder of the massive intrusion it had hosted and expelled.
Jay's fingers traced idle patterns on her shoulder. The silence was satiated, thick with the aftermath of mutual devouring.
"Daddy?" Eva's voice was a soft murmur against his skin.
"Hmm?"
"Tonight… after dinner. And… you know." She blushed, the warmth spreading across her cheeks. "What about breakfast?"
Jay went still, his hand pausing. "Breakfast?"
"The… the offering. If we do it like we did today, with the insertion a few hours before… there wouldn't be enough time in the morning. Not after the enema, I mean. The food needs time to… to marinade. To take on the flavor." She spoke the filthy logic with a calm earnestness that sent a fresh bolt of lust straight to Jay's cock, which stirred against her thigh.
He shifted, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. The hunger there was immediate and bright. "You're right. It does need time. The pasta was perfect because it had those hours inside you. For breakfast…" A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "We'd have to put it in the night before."
Eva's eyes widened. "The… the whole night? In my ass? For, like, ten hours?"
"Twelve, maybe," he said, his thumb stroking her lower lip. "Think about it. A full night's marinade. The flavors would be… deep. It would be soaked in you, baby girl. Every molecule."
A shiver ran through her. The idea was terrifyingly intimate, a violation that lasted through the vulnerable, unconscious hours of sleep. Her cunt, already sore and well-used, gave a feeble, interested pulse. "But… it would… it would change. It wouldn't be just food anymore. It would be… closer to…"
"To shit," Jay finished for her, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "It would be one step away. The very last stage before it becomes waste." He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. "And I would eat it. I would drink it down. As long as it's even one step before becoming shit, Eva, I want it. I want to taste that transition. I want to consume the very moment where our food becomes your essence."
His words were a corrupting drug, seeping into her bones. The concern didn't vanish, but it was transmuted, morphing into a dark, thrilling excitement. He wasn't just accepting the fringe of her taboo offering; he was craving its most extreme edge. "You'd really… you'd eat it? Even after all night?"
"I'd devour it," he promised, sealing it with a kiss that was all possession and promise. "You'll insert it tonight, after our evening session. You'll sleep with your ass full of our breakfast. And when you wake up, you'll come to me, and you'll shit your loaded, marinated ass straight into my mouth. Then you'll go to the bathroom and take a real shit, and you'll bring me that enema, too. I'll start my day drinking every fucking thing that comes out of you."
The plan was set. It was a liturgy of filth.
*
The evening passed in a haze of intense, familiar sex—a breeding session that left Eva's womb flooded with his hot seed, her cunt dripping and stretched, and her mind blissfully submissive. After, as they lay panting in the afterglow, Jay kissed her forehead. "Time to prep for breakfast, my perfect little buffet."
In the bathroom, under the bright lights, Eva performed her cleansing enema with practiced efficiency, the water flowing in and out, leaving her empty and clean. The silence of the house felt sacred, a church for their coming act.
Jay joined her, holding two plump, homemade chicken salad sandwiches on thick sourdough. They were cool, creamy, and fragrant with dill and celery. He also carried the large-bore syringe, its cylinder wide enough to handle the chunky salad.
"On the bed, on your hands and knees," he instructed, his voice thick.
Eva obeyed, presenting herself. The cool air kissed her well-used holes. She felt him kneel behind her, felt his lips worship her clean, empty pucker with soft, sucking kisses. "Snnnfff. Perfect. Empty and sweet. Ready to be packed."
She heard the snick of the syringe being filled, the squish of the chicken salad being packed into the cylinder. He lubed the tip generously, then pressed it to her entrance. "Deep breath, baby. This is going to be a big one. You're going to sleep so full."
She pushed back, taking the blunt tip. The stretch was significant, but her body was learning, adapting. It welcomed the intrusion with a hungry ache. He depressed the plunger.
A thick, cold, chunky mass pushed into her colon. She could feel the distinct pieces of chicken, the bits of celery, the soft bread all mashed together into a dense, pasty plug. It was a profoundly solid feeling, a heavy weight settling low in her gut. Glllrp. Schlorp.
"Oh fuck…" she moaned, her forehead dropping to the mattress.
"One down," Jay murmured, his hand rubbing her lower back as she took the immense fullness. "One more to go. I want you stuffed. I want you to feel this all night long."
The second syringe was even more intense. Her colon, already accommodating the first load, had to stretch further. Her belly began to distend, pushing outwards in a soft, rounded bulge. By the time the plunger bottomed out, she was panting, her abdomen a firm, prominent mound. She looked legitimately pregnant, a rounded curve under her pale skin. The weight was incredible, a constant, pressing awareness that she was carrying food in her ass.
Jay helped her roll onto her side, arranging pillows to support her heavy middle. He spooned behind her, one hand splayed possessively over the swell. "How does it feel?"
"So… full," she breathed. "Heavy. I can feel every bit of it. It's… it's in me."
"It's ours," he corrected, kissing her shoulder. "Sleep now. Let your body do its work. Let our breakfast get to know every inch of your beautiful insides."
Sleep was fitful, strange. Every time she shifted, the dense mass inside her sloshed and settled, a visceral reminder of her purpose. She dreamed in fragments of warm mouths and swallowing sounds. Jay's hand never left her belly.
*
Morning light filtered through the blinds. Eva woke with a gasp, the fullness in her gut immediate and urgent. It had changed. It wasn't just a heavy weight; it was a presence, a warm, settled mass that felt deeply integrated, as if her body had begun the long, slow process of claiming it. The thought sent a dizzying mix of shame and electric arousal straight to her clit.
Jay was already awake, propped on an elbow, watching her. His eyes were dark with hunger. "Good morning, my stuffed girl. How's our breakfast?"
"It's… it's ready," she whispered, the need to expel it becoming a physical pressure. "It feels… different. Warmer. Softer."
"Perfect," he purred. He threw the covers back. "Come on. Daddy's starving."
He positioned himself at the edge of the bed, lying on his back, his head hanging slightly over the side. He opened his mouth wide, his tongue lolling out. "Right here, Eva. Do it. Feed me the first meal of the day. Shit your marinated ass right into my mouth."
The sheer, graphic depravity of the command, delivered in the calm morning light, made her cunt gush. She scrambled to kneel over him, straddling his chest, positioning her swollen, full asshole directly over his gaping mouth. Her distended belly hung between them, a testament to the night's work.
She bore down.
It was harder than with the pasta. The mixture had compacted, becoming a denser, more cohesive mass. She grunted, straining, her abdominal muscles clenching.
Pllllrrrrrrtttt.
A thick, warm, solid log of the marinated chicken salad began to emerge. It was no longer recognizably sandwich; it was a soft, beige-brown cylinder, steaming slightly in the cool air, deeply infused with the musky, tangy-sweet scent of her colon and the long hours of internal fermentation. It dropped directly, with a heavy, wet splut, onto Jay's waiting tongue.
GLRK. SPLOOSH.
His eyes slammed shut, a groan of utter ecstasy vibrating up through his chest and into her thighs. The sound he made was one of pure, unadulterated worship. He closed his lips around the offering, his cheeks bulging as he chewed. The noises were obscenely wet, loud squelches and crunches of softened celery and bread.
Eva watched, mesmerized and panting, as she pushed, the long, continuous extrusion falling into his mouth. He swallowed greedily, gulping down the first massive bite, then opened again for more. "Mmmmph! Gaaah… yes! More, baby, push it all out!"
Encouraged, she bore down harder. Another length of the warm, ass-marinated food slid out. This batch was even softer, almost a slurry. It poured into his mouth in a creamy, beige stream. Jay lapped at it, his tongue swirling, drinking it down like it was the nectar of the gods. Tears of bliss leaked from the corners of his eyes.
The taste for him was transformative, complex, and overwhelmingly potent. It was chicken salad, but fundamentally altered—warmer, musky, with a deep, fermented tang and the unmistakable, beloved flavor of her underlying it all. It was food on the very precipice of waste, and to him, it was the most delicious thing he'd ever consumed.
"Fuck, Eva… your ass… it's so fucking good… it's perfect…" he slurred between gulps, his hands coming up to grip her ass cheeks, spreading them wider, helping her empty herself into him.
She pushed and pushed, her body convulsing with the effort of expulsion. The final third of the load came out in a soft, mushy flood, filling his mouth to overflowing. White, creamy drool mixed with the brown slurry leaked from the corners of his lips, running down his cheeks and into his hair. He swallowed convulsively, drinking it all, until she was empty, her belly deflating back to a soft, empty swell, her asshole gaping and twitching in the open air.
With a final, shuddering sigh, she collapsed forward, catching herself on her hands above him. Jay was beneath her, his mouth and chin a glistening, filthy mess, his chest heaving. He looked utterly wrecked and completely, divinely satisfied. He gazed up at her with pure adoration.
"That," he panted, "was the single greatest thing I have ever put in my mouth. You are a fucking miracle." He pulled her down, crushing her lips to his, forcing her to taste the remnants of her own night-long offering on his tongue. It was salty, musky, deeply organic, and hers. She kissed him back passionately, her own arousal a sharp, throbbing knot between her legs.
After a long moment, he broke the kiss. "Now. The enema. I know you need to go. Go to the bathroom. Take a real shit. And bring me every drop of the water you use to clean out. I'm not done drinking from you this morning."
Weak-legged, Eva stumbled to the ensuite bathroom. The urge was immediate and urgent now. She sat on the toilet, and with a series of grunts and sighs, emptied her bowels completely—the true, solid waste that had formed behind the food plug. The relief was immense. She then set up the enema bag, filling it with warm, clear water. She inserted the nozzle, opened the valve, and let the clean water flood into her now-empty colon, washing out the final remnants. She held it for a few minutes, letting it slosh inside, before expelling it into the toilet, the water now clouded and tinged.
But that wasn't the offering. She refilled the bag. This time, after the water flowed in, she didn't expel it into the toilet. She clamped the tube, removed the nozzle, and walked carefully, bowlegged, back to the bedroom, the bag of warm water sloshing in her hand.
Jay was still on the bed, having wiped some of the mess from his face but leaving a sheen of it behind. His eyes locked onto the bag. "There's my morning drink," he said, his voice rough.
He laid back again, assuming the same position. Eva knelt over him, guiding the loose end of the enema tube. She placed it between his parted lips. "Open wide, Daddy."
He did, sealing his lips around the rubber. She released the clamp.
A clear, warm stream of water flowed from the bag, down the tube, and directly into his mouth. But this wasn't just water. This was the second wash, the water that had swirled inside her colon after the real shit, collecting the final, lingering traces of her deepest internal filth. It was faintly clouded, carrying the essence of what had just passed through her.
Jay drank it in deep, greedy gulps, his throat working steadily. Gulp. Gulp. Glrk. His hands came up to hold her hips, his eyes locked on hers, blazing with devotion. He was drinking her clean, consuming the very last vestiges of her morning purge.
The bag emptied. He sucked on the tube until the final drops were gone, then let it fall from his mouth. A trickle of water ran down his cheek. He looked up at her, his expression one of satiated, blissful wreckage. "Now my day can start," he breathed. "I've had my Eva. I've had my breakfast."
------X------
Jay traced a path with his thumb over Eva's lower lip, his gaze fixed on her flushed face. The silence in his office had shifted from satiated to charged, the air thick with the scent of their morning's consumption and the lingering musk of sex. "Deep throat," he murmured, the words a low, possessive rumble. "You did that so beautifully, Eva. You took me all the way down, you conquered that reflex for me. You made your throat my hole."
She knelt on the rug, her body still trembling from the effort, her throat sore and stretched. "It belongs to you, Daddy," she whispered, the words slightly hoarse.
"Everything belongs to me," he agreed, his hand moving to cup her jaw. "And now, I want to talk about making that official. Not just in our private world, but in the one outside these walls."
Eva's breath caught. "Official?"
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "A wedding, Eva. Our wedding. A ceremony that binds you to me in every way imaginable, in the eyes of whatever laws or customs we choose to ignore. A celebration of our… unique union."
The word wedding sent a dizzying rush through her—a mix of thrill, terror, and a deep, submissive ache. It was the ultimate corruption, the final, public stamp on their taboo. "A… wedding? For us? But Daddy, we're…"
"Father and daughter," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And that's exactly what the ceremony will celebrate. The vows will be about my ownership, your submission. The reception… well, that will be a feast. A literal feast, of you." His eyes darkened with intent. "We'll plan it today. Every detail. And as we plan, we'll prepare. Your body is the centerpiece, the altar. It needs to be ready."
He stood, his cock, now fully hard again, swaying before her. "Come. To my desk. We'll plan while I taste you. I need your cunt on my tongue while we talk about flowers and venues."
Eva rose, her legs unsteady. The command was so typical, so perfectly Jay—blending the mundane with the profoundly obscene. She followed him to the large leather chair behind his desk. He sat down, spreading his legs wide. "Stand here," he said, pointing to the space directly in front of him between his knees. "Lift that tiny skirt. I want your cunt in my face while we browse wedding websites."
Her fingers trembled as she grasped the hem of the minuscule black skirt. She lifted it, exposing the sheer lace panties beneath, already darkened and soaked with her arousal and the remnants of his earlier seed. The scent of her own wetness, mixed with his musk, bloomed in the space between them.
Jay leaned forward, his nose almost touching the damp lace. "Snnnfff." A deep, hungry inhale. "God, you smell perfect. Sour, sweet, used. My favorite aroma." He hooked his fingers into the sides of the panties and pulled them down, letting them drop to her ankles. Her cunt was fully exposed now—glossy, swollen, her inner lips puffy and parted, glistening with a thick, creamy slick of grool. A thin strand of it dripped down her inner thigh.
"Now," he said, his voice already muffled as he leaned closer. "Step forward. Put your cunt on my mouth. I'm going to eat you out while we plan our incestuous wedding."
Eva shuffled forward, until her thighs brushed the outsides of his knees. She lowered her hips, aiming her wet slit toward his waiting, open mouth. The first contact was electric—the warm, wet pressure of his lips against her sensitive outer lips. "Mmmph." He hummed against her flesh, the vibration shooting straight to her clit.
He didn't start slow. His hunger was immediate, ravenous. His tongue plunged into her opening, a thick, hot invasion that made her cry out. "Ohhh, fuck, Daddy!"
"Schlick. Slurp. Glrk." The noises were obscenely loud, wet, and deliberate. His tongue swirled inside her, lapping at her walls, collecting the copious grool that seeped from her depths. He drank it greedily, swallowing audibly. "Gulp." His nose was buried against her perineum, his breath hot on her asshole.
"First decision," he said, his words distorted by her flesh. "Venue. We can't do a church. Too hypocritical." He thrust his tongue deep again, fucking her with it. Eva's hands gripped the edge of the desk for support, her hips rocking involuntarily against his face. "I think… the backyard. Our private space. We'll set up a canopy. Very intimate. Only us… and maybe a witness or two, if we feel like showing off." He sucked hard on her clit, pulling it into his mouth, making her legs shake. "Hnnng! Yes, right there!"
"Colors," he continued, alternating between sucking and licking. "Black and white. Classic. But the white will be… your dress. Or lack thereof. We need to decide what you'll wear." His tongue delved lower, probing at her asshole now, making her gasp. The dual stimulation was overwhelming. "I'm thinking… a harness. A wedding harness. Leather, maybe white. Symbolic. It will hold you open, present you. Your tits will be bare, of course. Dripping milk. Your cunt will be accessible. No panties. Maybe a sheer skirt, so short it's basically a belt."
His ideas were filthy, tailored perfectly to their dynamic. Each word, punctuated by a wet, sexual sound, drove her arousal higher. She was moaning constantly now, little "ah! ah! oh!" sounds escaping her as his mouth worked her over.
"Flowers," Jay mumbled, his lips smearing her juices across her skin. "Lilies. Pure, innocent. A fucking joke, right? We'll have them everywhere. And you'll carry a bouquet… but instead of flowers, it'll be a bundle of syringes. The big-bore ones. For the… reception offering." He chuckled against her cunt, the vibration delicious. "The wedding breakfast will be inside you, Eva. Inserted during the ceremony itself. You'll walk down the aisle with a belly full of my chosen meal. By the time we say our vows, it'll be marinating. And after I kiss you, I'll bend you over and eat it straight from your ass."
The graphic detail of the plan, spoken so casually while he feasted on her, unraveled her mind. Her cunt clenched around his tongue, a fresh flood of grool spilling into his mouth. He drank it, "Glrk, gulp," then pulled back slightly, his face glistening with her fluids.
"Stand up a little," he commanded, his voice slick. "I want to see your face while we look at some inspiration."
Eva, trembling, lifted her hips slightly, allowing him to sit back. He reached for his tablet on the desk, waking it up. His mouth and chin were slick and shiny, strands of her creamy grool clinging to his lips. He swiped, opening a browser.
"Here," he said, pulling her closer by her waist so she could see. He was showing her images of elegant, minimalist wedding arches. "Something like this. But we'll drape it with white chains. Symbolic of your bondage to me." His free hand slipped between her legs, his fingers finding her slippery entrance. He pushed two inside, effortlessly, her cunt so wet and open they slid in to the knuckle. "Ohhh!" She cried out, her body bowing over the desk.
"Music," he continued, finger-fucking her slowly as he scrolled. "No traditional march. Something dark, atmospheric. With a heavy beat. Like a heartbeat." His fingers curled, rubbing her front wall, searching for that internal spot. When he found it, he pressed. Eva's vision blurred. "Fuck! Daddy, that's… that's so good!"
"The vows," he said, his fingers working her in a steady, penetrating rhythm. "I'll write them. They'll be explicit. 'I, Jay, take you, Eva, my daughter, as my property. I vow to fill your cunt with my seed daily, to drink your milk and your shit, to use every hole you possess for my pleasure and sustenance.' And you'll vow… 'I, Eva, give myself to you, my father, as your property. I vow to carry your meals in my colon, to offer my milk and my grool, to accept your seed in my womb and your cock in my throat, and to seek no pleasure outside your use of me.'"
Each filthy promise, coupled with the deep, rhythmic thrust of his fingers, pushed her toward a precipice. Her moans became louder, less controlled. "Ah! Ah! Yes! I vow that! I vow it all!"
"The kiss," Jay growled, his fingers speeding up. "Squelch. Squelch." The wet sounds of her cunt around his digits filled the room. "It won't be a chaste peck. It'll be a deep, tongue kiss. And I'll be tasting your cunt on my lips from eating you out during the ceremony." He leaned forward again, burying his face back between her legs, his tongue replacing his fingers, lapping at her clit with frantic urgency. "Slurp! Slrrrk!"
The dual stimulation—his words, his fingers, now his tongue—was too much. The orgasm built like a storm, undeniable. "Daddy, I'm… I'm gonna…"
"Come," he ordered, his mouth sucking hard on her clit, his tongue flicking rapidly. "Squirt for me, Eva. Let me taste your wedding-planning orgasm. Flood my mouth."
She couldn't hold back. The climax erupted, a cataclysmic wave of sensation that started deep in her womb and exploded outward. Her body convulsed, her legs buckling. A gush of hot, slick fluid—not just grool, but the clear, copious squirt of her orgasm—jetted from her cunt, directly into Jay's waiting mouth.
"Sploosh! Glrk!"
He drank it eagerly, gulping down the sudden flood, his throat working. The fluid spilled over his lips, running down his chin, but he swallowed most of it, a blissful groan vibrating against her sensitive flesh. Eva screamed, a raw, ragged "FUCKKKK!" as her body shuddered through the release. Her cunt clenched and spasmed around nothing, pumping out more juice in smaller pulses.
Jay held her through it, his mouth sealed to her, drinking every drop until the flow subsided. When she finally sagged, gasping, he pulled back. His face was drenched, his beard and chin slick with her mixed juices—grool, squirt, saliva. He looked utterly debauched, and utterly satisfied.
"Perfect," he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then licking that hand clean. "That's how you contribute to the planning. By feeding me your pleasure." He helped her slump into his lap, her back to his chest, her legs spread over his thighs. Her cunt, still twitching and dripping, was positioned perfectly against his hard, waiting cock.
He didn't penetrate her yet. He reached for the tablet again, holding it so she could see. "Now, the dress. Or lack thereof. Let's look at some harness designs."
Eva, boneless and spent, could only nod, her head lolling against his shoulder. He navigated to a site selling custom leather gear. Images of intricate harnesses, some with rings, some with straps that framed the breasts and cunt, filled the screen.
"This one," Jay said, pointing to a white leather design that looked like a stylized cage. It had straps that would run under her breasts, lifting and presenting them, with open panels that would leave her nipples completely exposed. A central strap would run down her torso, splitting at her crotch to hold her lips apart. "It's called 'The Presentation Harness.' Appropriate. We'll get it in white. You'll wear it with white stockings. No skirt. Maybe a sheer white veil, just for the walk down the aisle. Then I'll remove it."
He was describing her wedding attire as a piece of fetish gear, and the heat in her belly, though she was post-orgasm, began to coil again. "It's… it's beautiful, Daddy."
"It's functional," he corrected, kissing her temple. "Your body is the art. The harness just frames it." His hand stroked her belly. "Now, the most important part: the menu. The meal you'll carry during the ceremony. It needs to be something that marinates well, something with a strong flavor that your ass can enhance." He thought for a moment, his cock twitching against her damp back. "A rich, creamy risotto. With mushrooms and truffle oil. The truffle scent will blend with your musk… it'll be incredible. We'll prepare it that morning, let it cool slightly. Then, just before you put on the harness, I'll insert it. Two large syringes, maybe three. I want your belly visibly rounded as you walk toward me. I want everyone to see you're already carrying my feast."
The thought of walking, of moving, with a heavy, creamy mass packed into her colon, made her ache with a strange longing. "How… how will I walk? If I'm so full?"
"You'll walk slowly, elegantly. Every step will remind you of your purpose. It'll be part of the ceremony." His hand slid down from her belly to her cunt, his fingers slipping easily into her soaked opening. He began to finger her again, slowly, lazily, as he continued planning. "The exchange of rings… we'll skip that. Instead, we'll exchange… plugs. I'll give you a beautiful, jewelled anal plug. A wedding plug. It'll be my promise to keep you filled. You'll give me… a ring, but one designed to be worn on my cock. A cock ring. Engraved with 'Property of Eva's Cunt.'"
Eva moaned softly as his fingers worked inside her. The absurdity, the taboo, the sheer filth of their wedding plan was dizzying. It was a corruption of every sacred tradition, twisted into a celebration of their darkest desires. And she wanted it. She wanted it desperately.
"After the vows and the kiss," Jay continued, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur, "I'll lead you to a special… reception area. Just a padded bench. I'll have you kneel over it, your ass over my mouth. And I'll eat. I'll consume the risotto straight from your colon. That will be our wedding breakfast. The guests, if we have any, will watch. Or they'll be served conventional food, while I feast on the real meal."
His fingers sped up, curling and pressing inside her. She was getting close again, her body responding eagerly to both his touch and his words. "And then… after I've eaten," he growled, "I'll fuck you. I'll take you on that bench, in front of everyone. I'll fill your womb with my wedding seed. A deep, breeding fuck. I want my cum mixing with the last remnants of the risotto in your ass. I want you overflowing with me."
"Yes," Eva gasped, her hips moving against his hand. "Yes, Daddy. Breed me at our wedding. Fill me up in front of everyone."
"That's the plan," he said, his breath hot on her ear. He removed his fingers, then gripped his cock, guiding it to her dripping entrance. "But plans need practice. We need to rehearse the main event. The breeding." He pushed upwards, the broad head of his cock parting her slick lips, pressing into her opening.
The penetration was slow, deliberate, and deep. Her cunt, wet and stretched from his fingers and her orgasm, welcomed him with a hungry, gripping embrace. "Ohhhh, god…" she moaned as he sank inch by inch into her, until his pelvis was flush against her backside, his entire length buried inside her.
"This," Jay grunted, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tight against him, "is how we'll be during the ceremony. You in my lap. My cock in your cunt. Maybe during the vows." He began to move, a slow, rocking thrust that rubbed his shaft along her sensitive walls. The angle was deep, his cockhead nudging against her cervix with each inward push. It was a dull, aching pressure, a sensation of profound fullness that bordered on pain, but the pleasure overshadowed it, making her crave more.
"Talk to me, Eva," he commanded, his thrusts increasing in pace. "Describe what you're feeling. Describe my cock in your wedding-cunt."
She obeyed, the words tumbling out between moans. "Your cock… it's so deep, Daddy. It's stretching me… filling me up so completely. I can feel the head… hnng!… bumping against my cervix. It aches… but it's so good. It feels like you're claiming my womb already. Like you're planting your seed right at the entrance." Her voice rose as he thrust harder. "My cunt is gripping you… it's so wet for you, sir. It's making a messy, wet sound… squelch! squelch!… every time you push in. It's your hole, Daddy. It's your wedding gift."
"Fuck yes, it is," he growled, his hips pumping faster now, the leather chair creaking under their combined weight. The sound of their joining was obscenely loud—the wet, rhythmic shlick-shlick-shlick of her slick cunt accepting his pounding cock. "And on our wedding day, I'll fuck you just like this. I'll fuck you until you scream, and then I'll empty my balls into you. I'll flood your womb with so much cum it'll drip out of you for days. You'll walk away from our wedding leaking my seed, carrying my feast in your belly, and wearing my harness. You'll be my wife in every fucking sense."
His words drove her higher. The fantasy was vivid, immediate. She could see it—the white harness, the distended belly, his face buried between her legs as he ate from her ass, then the brutal, public breeding fuck. Her second orgasm approached, a tightening coil in her core that threatened to snap.
"I'm close, Daddy! I'm gonna come again!"
"Come with me," he ordered, his thrusts becoming frantic, pounding into her with a force that shook them both. "I'm filling you up, Eva. Get ready for my wedding rehearsal cum. Get ready to feel my seed paint your cervix."
The internal pressure peaked. Eva's body clenched, her cunt spasming around his driving cock. She screamed, a raw, unfiltered "FUCKKKKKK!" as the orgasm detonated, a wave of white-hot pleasure that ripped through her from her clit to her womb. At the same moment, Jay groaned, a deep, animal sound, and his hips stuttered, then pressed deep, holding himself inside her as he began to ejaculate.
Inside.
The shift was profound. The frantic fucking ceased, replaced by a deep, static penetration and a pulsing, internal eruption. His cock, buried to the root, twitched violently within her. The first pulse wasn't a gentle spill; it was a jet, a hot, thick blast of semen that launched from the tip of his urethra and splattered directly against the taut surface of her cervix.
Eva felt it—a sudden, warm splat deep inside, a sensation so intimate it stole her breath. Then another pulse. Splurt. Another hot, viscous load, painting her cervical opening. Another. Sploosh. The cum wasn't just pooling; it was being actively, forcefully shot into the deepest recess of her vagina.
Jay's shaft pulsed rhythmically against her vaginal walls, each throb accompanied by a fresh, internal gush. The semen was thick, voluminous—his hyperspermia in full effect. It flooded her, quickly filling the space around his cock. She felt the warmth spread, a seeping, expanding heat that filled her womb's cavity. It pooled behind his cockhead, then, as more cum jetted forward, it began to push backwards, oozing around his shaft, coating her vaginal walls in a slick, hot layer.
Gush. Splatter. Flow.
The imagery inside her mind was graphic, anatomical. His urethra, at the tip of his embedded cock, was a spouting fountain, erupting with white, creamy seed. Her cervix, a tight, puckered entrance to her womb, was being doused, painted white. The semen bubbled and swirled in the confined space, some of it seeping through the tiny cervical opening, a few frantic sperm perhaps slipping into the uterine cavity beyond—a microscopic wedding rehearsal for a potential, future breeding.
The volume was immense. Her belly, already soft, began to feel a new, internal fullness—not the solid weight of food, but a liquid, warm expansion. His cock continued to pulse, each ejaculation lasting longer than any normal man's. Splurt. Splurt. Gush. The sounds, though internal, seemed audible to her—the wet, pressurized sounds of his seed bursting into her saturated chamber.
Jay groaned, holding her tight, his entire body trembling with the release. "Taking it… taking my wedding cum… filling your little womb…"
Eva could only moan, a continuous, breathy "ohhh… ohhh… ohhh…" as the incredible internal sensation washed over her. Her cunt clenched and unclenched around his still-pulsing shaft, milking him for every drop. The heat was euphoric, a satiating, claiming warmth that felt like a brand being seared into her very core.
Finally, the pulses slowed. The last few were weaker, a trickling spurt… spurt… that seeped from his tip and mingled with the already massive pool inside her. He collapsed against her, both of them panting, slick with sweat and sex.
For a long moment, they sat there, joined, his softening cock still inside her, holding his immense deposit in place. Eva felt the cum begin to leak out around the edges of his shaft, a hot, creamy trickle running down her perineum toward his thighs.
Jay nuzzled her hair. "Rehearsal successful," he murmured, his voice saturated with satisfaction. "Now… we need to make some phone calls. Order the harness. Book a canopy for the backyard. And you…" he shifted, his cock sliding out of her with a wet, drawn-out schloooop, followed by a gush of his cum spilling from her gaping hole onto his slacks, "…you need to start practicing. Practice walking with a full ass. Practice holding your milk for longer, so you're dripping copiously during the ceremony. And practice…" he turned her in his lap to face him, his eyes blazing, "…saying your vows out loud, while I'm fucking your throat."