Chapter 3: Double Breeding
The new alien knelt beside Zylara on the rug, her identical violet eyes watching Marcus with sharp intensity. Her hand, cool and smooth, cupped his jaw, turning his face from Zylara’s spent form. “My sister’s womb is seeded,” she said, her voice a harmonic echo. “My turn.”
Marcus’s cock, still slick and monstrously thick, throbbed in agreement. He grabbed her, his hands finding the same impossible fullness of her tits, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. “What’s your name?” he grunted, pushing her back onto the deep weave.
“Zyra,” she breathed, her legs spreading willingly. He didn’t wait, aligning himself and driving into her in one brutal, bottoming stroke. She was tighter, a vicious, clenching heat that made his vision speckle. “Fuck,” he spat, the word torn from him.
He fucked her with a relentless, jarring rhythm, the rug bunching beneath her shoulders. Zylara watched from inches away, her hand drifting to her own flat stomach. Marcus bent, sucking Zyra’s nipple into his mouth, biting down as he pistoned into her. Her cries were sharper, less controlled.
He could feel the familiar, terrifying pressure building, deeper and hotter than before. “Gonna fill you up,” he promised against her skin, his thrusts becoming short, grinding impacts. Her body accepted it all, her channel spasming as his orgasm ripped through him, a flood of seed hitting her deepest place. Her back arched violently, a silent scream on her lips as her climax was ripped from her in turn, triggered solely by his release.
He collapsed atop her, spent, the electric hum in his veins a permanent vibration. The ship would return soon. He had filled them both.
The deep, subsonic thrum vibrated up through the cabin floorboards, a summons he felt in his teeth. “Time,” Zylara whispered, already standing with an unearthly grace, her sister Zyra moving in silent tandem. They led him out into the biting cold, toward the sleek, obsidian vessel whose open hatch exhaled warm, recycled air that smelled of ozone and foreign blooms.
Inside, the light was a soft, directionless glow. Another figure awaited them, turning from a crystalline console. She was their mirror, yet entirely her own. Where her sisters’ curves were concentrated in their heavy breasts and thin waists, hers flowed in a profound, breathtaking cascade from her lower back—an ass so perfectly sculpted, so imposibly full and round, it defied terrestrial anatomy. “I am Zara,” she said, her eyes tracing the still-damp, thick shape of him against his pants.
Without a word, she turned and lowered herself onto a padded platform, presenting that breathtaking posterior. The twin orbs were flawless, high and impossibly supple, with a deep, inviting cleft between them. He shoved his pants down, his cock springing free, already aching and thick. He ran a hand over one cool, smooth cheek, feeling the dense, perfect give of her flesh, and then he was mounting her.
He guided himself through her slick folds from behind, the head of his cock notching against her entrance as he loomed over her prone form. “Christ, that ass,” he grunted, his hands gripping those phenomenal hips. He drove into her, and the sensation was unreal—her tight cunt clamped around him while her magnificent rear cushioned each thrust of his hips. He fucked her with deep, possessive strokes, his balls slapping rhythmically against her soaked lips, the perfect, jiggling flesh of her ass absorbing every impact.
He leaned forward, covering her, one hand tangling in her blonde ponytail. “You feel that, you perfect-assed bitch?” he growled into her ear, pounding harder. The climax built like a freight train, and when he came, roaring, his release triggered her own; Zara’s whole body seized, her incredible ass clenching as she wept beneath him, milked dry by pulses of his scalding cum.