(30 votes) (4.73)
Catching my breath, “The Fuck were you thinking, Gojira?” I yelled.
“I just saved your life, you Ungrateful Monkey!”, she snarled back.’
“I didn’t want your help, Tinker Toad!” I return.
“Hairless Ape!” She volleyed back.
“Tree Hatched Shell Slime!”
“Fruit Eating Mud Monkey!”
(19 votes) (4.79)
All around her indigo colored gluteus maximi I go. After a minute, I start making every fourth whack a particularly large one. One, two, three, FOUR! One, two, three, FOUR! Once more, I see a look of surprise on her face.
But then, I also see something else in her eyes. I hide my smile when I see it: they are starting to dilate. A few seconds more, and I see her open her mouth and start to pant through it ever so softly! In an instant, I scent her genitals emitting the Demonic equivalent of Love Honey (Brimstone and Treacle), starting to saturate and overflow her loins.
(14 votes) (4.71)
“Touch me, oh touch me,” she crooned. Frotho’s hand, as though of its own will, reached out and traced the delicate swelling of her Dark Elf-breast, while the other slowly crept around her tiny, flawless waist, crushing her to his barrel chest.
“Hairy chest, I love a hairy chest,” she moaned, forcing him down on the silvered carpet. Her tiny, pink fingers caressed the luxuriant fur of his pectoral muscles while Frotho’s nose sought out the warmth of her precious long pointed Dark elf-ear.
“But I’m so tall and hairy, and . . . and you’re so beautiful,” Frotho whimpered, slipping clumsily out of his crossed garters. The Dark Elf-maiden said nothing, but only sighed deep in her throat and held him more firmly to her faunlike body.
“There is one thing you must do for me first,” she whispered into one rounded ear.
“Anything,” sobbed Frotho, growing frantic with his need. “Anything!” She closed her eyes and then opened them to the ceiling.
(16 votes) (4.81)
I approached Messalina, who had been awaiting my decision with amusement. She looked like the Cat who had caught a Leviathan.
“Anything at all, you say, Messalina?” I asked, sweetly.
“Yes, Arawn, provided that it ends with at least one orgasm.” She smiled that predators grin again at me.
“You can be assured that such will occur, Milady.”
“Very well, then Arawn, I am intrigued. What do you propose?” I leaned close to her, and whispered what I had in mind into her long-pointed ear. She reacted immediately.
“You CAN’T be serious!” she scoffed, alarmed, as she jerked herself away from me wild eyed.
I remained where I was, grinning.
(16 votes) (4.50)
The Great Maou, (thankfully) chose to change her line of query.
“Earlier you said you were created. Does that mean you were not … ‘born’?”
‘Thank you,’ I thought to myself. “I was born in the concept of being a creation yes. But I also know that is not what you mean.”
I leaned back to one side. “I am assuming that you mean ‘born’ as in the ‘old fashioned way’: carried inside a woman for several months?”
“Then no,” I mused half to myself, “I was not ‘born’ in that manner. I think I can guess what your next question will be. So, to save time, I will answer it as well. I was ‘born’ fairly much as you see me now; fully functional as an adult, physically at least.” Looking up I noticed that my answer seemed to have left her outraged.
“Then you never had a mother or a father? Someone to cling to, or care for you as you matured?” she asked incredulous.
“I was already grown up physically.” I said defensively, feeling a bit insulted. “My designers felt that there was no need for parental units since we came out as fully grown. I think what you are about to ask next is: came out of what?”
The Great Maou nodded shakily.
“For lack of a better term, an Alembic.”