A Daughter's Love

Marie was worried about Mira's mental condition, as she sat at the cafe. She'd seen the news coming out of the Second Korean War. She'd helped Mira build the networks of communications, recording, and personal aid that now allowed even a girl sitting in the middle of Cambodia, sipping tea at a cafe, to watch battle footage from the front lines. She didn't even have to call on her security clearance to see it - ordinary soldiers uploaded clips, as artillery rained down on one side or the other, as inch by inch the forces of the PLA took more and more of Korea's soil. The artillery pieces oriented on Seoul had been redistributed to deal with the northern assault, and now America and the South appeared to be gearing up to join in the war too.

"Liberation" was how the media cast it. How most people saw it, even.

Mira would see it differently, she knew. She'd see every corpse as blood on her hands. It wouldn't stop her from making the decisions she made, but it would still hurt, like a surgeon stranded on a desert island forced to cut off their own leg to save their life. She had security clearance, too. She could see the preliminary reports coming out, the same ones that Mira would be staring at.

The woman was more her mother than her actual mother had been. She didn't hate her biological mother - she'd just never known her. Only a few scattered vague memories of a tall woman towering over her, all dating back to before her sixth birthday - militias had killed her mom in the fighting in Katanga. Her father had been a member of a different militia, and she was pretty sure that her conception was not an affair of love, to put it lightly. She'd never confronted the man. She didn't want to see him. He was now a peaceable civil servant, just stamping driver's licenses somewhere. People were changed by their circumstances, after all.

In some other world - quite possibly in the other world, the one they'd just made contact with... she probably wasn't even alive. She'd starved to death on the streets. Maybe been stoned as a 'witch', as the Pentecostals sometimes did back before modernization. Been killed, or raped, by one militia or another.

Certainly, there was no Marie Thérèse Ilunga Précieux of note in that world, and it was hard to imagine that she had simply quietly settled down as a village woman carrying jugs of water on her head.

The thoughts felt almost clinical, as she contemplated the probable death. She finished her tea, and what didn't feel clinical was the mental condition of her legal next-of-kin. Of Mira Stone.

There had been an occasional brief text, but it was obvious Mira was distracted. She should visit her. Make sure she was alright. She'd be allowed to.

* * *

I just laid there in the bed, watching with open lust as Mira stripped herself, having closed and locked the door. The armor fell away, revealing a slim, tall body, but what really caused my arousal to spike was when she produced a pair of hair bands, gathering up that long, ruby-red hair of hers into a pair of pigtails. It looked absurd. It was the hairstyle of a young girl, being worn by the most powerful woman in the world, but my cock tented the blanket, and Mira clearly liked the response. "You really like this hairstyle, hmm?" She teased, smiling as she approached - and she half-stumbled for a moment. I moved at superspeed when she started to fall, managing to position myself to steady her. "My hero," she said, as I helped, an earnest, completely innocent smile on her lips. It was more like the joking flirtation of somebody on a first date than what I would expect from my Mira.

"You, uh... drunk?" I asked. Her behavior was weird, even taking into account that she wasn't my Mira.

"Tired," she responded. "Stimulants can keep you going for a while, but after forty hours..." My eyes no doubt visibly widened. "There are people dying right now, because of a war I ordered. How can I sleep easily like that?"

"You should take a long break," I told her. "Clear your head. You do still have generals, right? Commanders-in-chief?" Her expression said she did, but she didn't want to rely on them. "Micromanaging isn't good strategy."

She sighed at that. "Something must be done; this is something," she said, with a wry smile that said she knew I was right. "I don't know if I can get to sleep, though. I took some pervigiline two hours ago, it has a half-life of six."

"Do you go to sleep after a good fuck?" I asked her.

She let out a laugh at that. "You're too single-minded," she said, a warm smile on her lips. "But... I do, actually," she said, giving me a playful wink.

"Then just lie down and I'll make you come until you can actually pass out, no matter what drugs you're on." Her laugh became more excited, in response - but she soon was lying down on her back, her naked body presented to me. She still had her hair in that absurd pigtail design, and it was unbelievably hot to me. I knew by experience in both these worlds that if I pointed out the fact to her, she would just laugh and undo it. To her, the ridiculousness of her hair was a joke, not a degradation - and to me, that very fact just made it hotter. I got atop her, admiring her smooth, pale skin, and slipped my cock into her tight sex.

She felt amazing. She was incredibly, intensely tight, her wet warm inner walls soon wrapping around my cock. I groaned in pleasure as I felt her begin to work me over, a grin on her lips - but I had an unfair advantage over her, and no amount of her own sexual skills or giving nature would let her win at the game we were playing. Time slowed down, and my thumb found its way to her clit, beginning to softly circle it, round and around. I knew her sensitive spots from my Mira, and I quickly verified they were the same, as the woman in question soon began to shiver, jerk, and pant hotly, her eyelashes fluttering in what looked like slow motion.

Of course, with me pounding her pussy at superhumanly pleasant speeds, her clit getting a similarly intense stimulation, it took hardly any time at all for her to come on my cock. Her inner walls gripped and squeezed my dick as I continued to pump inside her. She let out a hot, lewd moan, played out to me in slow motion, as I thrust rapidly inside her. I leaned down over her, grabbing one of those ruby-red pigtails and dragging her up into a kiss. She let out a squeak of surprise, similarly played out in extremely slow motion, even as her legs wrapped around my hips.

I made her come her brains out. Whatever effort I had put into bringing my Mira off, when I was still enjoying playing with her like that, teasing her, making her come despite not wanting to - it was far outweighed by what I inflicted on this Mira, who was utterly willing. Her pale skin was soon slick with sweat, her long pigtails beginning to curl and darken as I rutted inside her. Her whole body bounced on my cock, over and over, her lips parted, some saliva slipping out, splashing down onto the bed beneath us as I went at it. Her fingers tangled up on the sheets, as her eyelashes fluttered in obscenely slow motion, every single frame of her pleasure expressed to me, as orgasm after orgasm hit her.

It took seven orgasms on her part for me to come for the first time. I tried to drag it out, but she felt too good, and the absolutely obscene show she was giving to me made it utterly impossible for me to hold back any further. (It also, subjectively, felt like twenty or thirty minutes of dealing with her nearly-constantly squeezing tight pussy.) I simply groaned as I exploded inside her, panting in pleasure as I felt another hot load of my cum deposit itself in her waiting sex, and then I gingerly pulled out, ready to tuck her in, fully expecting her to be quite thoroughly defeated.

Her arm, instead, looped around my neck. To my eyes, it was a lazy movement of the whole limb, stretching up and out, before flopping forward and around. I let time speed back up. "-need more than that," she panted, her cheeks flush with color, her lips parted as she caught her breath. "Pervigiline isn't a lightweight drug, slut," she said.

I was surprised she called me that. Up until that point, she had avoided that word entirely. As the words finished leaving her lips, I could see that she realized that she had called me something untoward, and she looked about ready to start apologizing - instead, I let time slow back down and began ramming inside her still-wet pussy all over again, cutting off any would-be apologies and instead producing ecstatic moans and cries of pleasure. The arm looped around my neck tightened, pulling me down towards her, burying my face in her modest bust, and her legs tightened and squeezed around my hips, grinding me inside her as best she could. With my finger still on her clit, it took no time at all, in objective terms, for her to come, just squirming and squeezing beneath me.

For me, it all felt great - but also, I had been getting sucked off by her quite a bit, every time she'd come back to this little love den. I had plenty of endurance. So after making her come a few times, I could feel my ability to keep going being sincerely tested, and allowed time to speed back up. "Guh, huhm, oh, you're, back," she panted out, as my pace slowed atop her, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly, a smile curling up the corner of her lips. "I can see how you have so many beautiful women crawling over one another to pleasure you," she noted, leaning up to kiss my lips fiercely.

She tasted wonderful, despite all the cocksucking she'd been doing earlier. I didn't know if it was some gum or magic item or what, but I didn't care. I grunted into her mouth, continuing to play with her clit, making her squirm - and when she broke off for breath, I spoke. "Can I, ah, dirty talk in superspeed? You won't be able to understand me, and I don't want you listen to it with the speed adjusted - but it'll make me feel better."

"Go for it, cutie," she told me, a cocky little grin on her lips, and I let time slow down once more, beginning to pound inside her.

"Look at you," I grunted out, my cock throbbing and pulsing with raw desire, as she took thrust after thrust. "You're pretty much queen of the world, Mira, and right now you look like a horny schoolgirl getting fucked on my cock," I groaned out, and she just took it - maybe even nodding along to whatever I was saying, which made it sexier. "Genius, world leader, and hot young schoolgirl squirming on my dick, fuck," I breathed out, already losing control of myself, desperately wanting to come. I leaned down, sucking on her neck to give myself a moment's time, my finger playing with her clit as I frantically pounded away at her pussy all the while, her legs kicking at the air behind the two of us.

She came many, many more times in that position. My mouth spat out whatever I felt like, and with such an absolutely wonderful blank canvas as 'Hollywood actress good looks, queen of the world, currently with her hairs in a pigtail design,' I had plenty of material. I came inside her three more times, and there's no way that I would have been able to keep going for as long as I did without the dirty talk. I called her a hot little slut, my obedient bitch, just about everything. Every sadistic tendency I'd ever held or hidden was allowed out in that hour or so of subjective time, as she obliviously nodded along to them all, coming her brains out all the while.

When I came for the fourth time inside her, though, I ran out of juice. My cock began to flag, as time sped back up, but she just let herself fall limp beneath me, panting heavily, eyes lidding - and then, at last, she passed out.

Her arm was still wrapped around my neck, though. I decided it would probably be unduo to pull away, and I was pretty fucking tired myself, so I let myself pass out atop her, simply slumping down on her gorgeous naked body.

Outside that room, the last war in this world's history raged at Mira's behest. Inside it, we were a naked tangle of bodies.

* * *

Given how long Mira had been up, it wasn't a surprise that I got up before her. She looked serene lying there, her eyes closed, her red hair tangled up. I glanced at my watch - I'd been asleep for a good seven hours. She didn't want to let me go, but I managed to slip out of her grasp anyway, tumbling up to my feet and taking a shower. She remained a human-shaped log even when I emerged from the shower, and she looked just so... cute, lying there, her hair in a pair of pigtails, that when I sat down to play some video games on the comm, I muted them and let her use my thighs as a pillow. (I had, at least, the sense to put on my underwear, so that my dick wouldn't wind up smacking her face a bunch in her sleep.)

I'd been playing this interesting little indie strategy game thing - this universe seemed to have about ten times the number of video games as the last one, for whatever reason - where you tried to micromanage a magical academy even as your wizards kept turning one another into frogs, when the door clicked unlocked. I let time slow down, quietly tucked Mira's naked body under the blankets properly (rather than leave her open to whoever saw her) and hurriedly moved to start getting dressed to greet whoever it was.

I had pants on, and a shirt in my hands, by the time the door opened, revealing a dark-skinned young woman with huge round glasses, long curly dark hair, and gorgeous big tits. I had halfway gotten used to thinking of 'obviously-African person means somebody under Mira's personal direction.' We were in the middle of Burma, after all, but Mira seemed to surround herself with dark-skinned soldiers from the Congo.

Whoever she was, though, she wasn't dressed in a military uniform, or a suit, so I figured she wasn't necessarily in the chain of command, but that didn't mean I had any better an idea of who she was. Her gaze went to my chest, her eyes wide, before she hurriedly glanced away, searching the room for Mira.

Mira was still sleeping, hair in pigtails, an empty-headed smile on her lips. I was now wearing a shirt. "Hello?" I prompted her. "Uhm. Who are you, sorry?"

She looked back at me, her nose crinkling. "I'm Director Stone's next of kin," she said, her voice sharp, albeit with more than a trace of an accent. "And you are?"

"Uh. Roger Cooper." She snorted at the name. "That's - I, uh. Was helping her get to sleep. She really needs a break."

"Oh, I would imagine she needs a break. And I can imagine how you helped her get to sleep, too." Her voice was even. It wasn't really disapproving, but while her eyes kept probing me, there wasn't much hint of lust to them. "How much do I owe you?" She asked, fingers flicking through the air and making one of those screens appear.

I blinked. "Owe...?"

"Did she pay you in advance?" The girl asked.

"Look, what's your name?" I said.

"Marie Thérèse Ilunga Précieux. As I said, I'm Director Stone's next of kin. I appreciate that men like yourself are in short supply, thanks to the economic leveling of the Federation, but if it's all the same, I'd rather just pay you so you can go. If Mira really wants you again, I'm sure she can contact you for another round."

I blinked. I let time slow down. And, after what to me was a second or two, I realized that Marie thought I was a literal prostitute. "Whoa," I said, letting time speed back up. My hands came up defensively. "I'm not a hooker."

"I don't care what you call it, sex therapist, masseuse, whatever. It's fine. I'm sure you enjoy it, otherwise you'd just spend your stipend on video games or whatever rather than fuck for money. Certainly, Mira's an attractive woman. But she doesn't need you looming around her."

"I did not receive sex for money, and will not in the future," I told her. Well, that may not have been entirely true. Given the proliferation of pussy that I was practically drowning in, I could very easily ask for money in return for sex. Which might be something I would do in the future - I could hardly rule it out. Also, the thought came to mind that my Mira had basically been paying me for sex, when she'd done the master-slave roleplay and bought me whatever I wanted.

"Oh," Marie said, her posture shifting suddenly and instantly. "Sorry. I just figured that Mira wouldn't exactly be going out to pick up guys at the local bar. Or if she did, they wouldn't be expats."

"I flew in," I said.

Her eyes widened at that, and she straightened up quickly. "Sorry," she said. "I thought it was a casual thing, given the stress she's under, and the fact that she never mentioned you until now, Roger. Has your relationship been going on long?" She idly tucked her hair behind her back.

"Mnuh," Mira mumbled, from her position on the bed. She grabbed a pillow and hurled it, pitch perfect, at Marie's head, then thumped her head right back down on the bed. The pillow sent Marie's glasses askew a bit, but she took it without a problem otherwise.

"Ahem." Marie glanced at the door. "Uhm. We can speak outside, if you'd prefer, Mr. Cooper," she said. "I think Mira would," she added, with a glance at the woman - Mira had now stuffed her face thoroughly into a pillow, squishing it around her ears.

I nodded, stepping outside with her, letting her close the door behind us, locking the door. We stared at one another for a couple seconds, then I spoke up. "This is a casual thing," I said, making her blink a few times.

"You... casually flew out... to Mong Khet... to have sex with Mira?" Marie asked.

"I didn't fly out here to have sex with her, no. It was to meet her," I explained.

* * *

Marie honestly had no idea what to make of Roger. He was definitely handsome - in the looks department, Mira could do a lot worse - but she was just baffled by the explanation of the series of events that led to him sleeping with Mira.

Oh, it all made sense as a chronological sequence. He comes to this universe. Mira asks to speak to him personally. They chat for a bit. Mira vents about her situation. He asks her if she wants to have sex. She says yes. The problem was the connective tissue between Mira stressing about invading the DPRK, and... him asking if she wanted to fuck.

Again, he was handsome. Mira was stressed. So it made sense that she would say yes. But it didn't make sense that he would want to have sex with her - unless he was some type of gold-digger, or purely attracted to power, or something like that. But that didn't seem to be the case, based on how he talked. Of course, some gold-diggers were good at hiding their true nature.

That was probably it. He was just using her mother - using Mira - for what he could get from her. You would expect it more from somebody from this universe, where every single person in Africa and most of the people in the rest of the world respected her as a savior who had brought wealth, peace, and prosperity unrivaled to the modern world. That was probably how Mira had missed it. She'd been tired, exhausted, emotionally on edge, and he'd taken advantage of it to worm his way into her heart, starting from between her legs.

"...ah, but you don't need to hear about that," he said, as he continued his story. He'd gotten to the part where the sex actually happened, and he decided to slide over it. "I've been, uh, mostly playing video games, otherwise."

"I see. A bit of a gamer, then?" She gave him a smile. She needed to find a way to prove his actual ill-intent, but Mira would probably need more than her vaguest suspicions, if she was letting this gold-digging slut hang around in her personal quarters. "Well, since Mira is resting up, maybe we could play a bit?" She didn't want to leave her mother alone with this guy any more than she had to. "What games do you like?"

"Mostly action titles?" He suggested.

* * *

Multiplayer video games are one of the great contradictions of games in general. There are many games that are awful and unfun, but people play them with their friends so they thereby become fun. On the other hand, there are games that are actually good, but the process of playing them with friends drains them of the things that make them good, as the carefully-balanced skill element is enervated and drained in service of allowing four people to play at the same time and blenderize every enemy.

And, of course, there's all the video games where a huge skill difference makes the game unfun. What's enjoyment can be found in playing a one-versus-one in a fighting game, when the other player barely even knows how to hold the controller properly?

We were playing in a private room in the underground complex, separate from Mira's own bedroom - Marie had told the guards where we were going, so if Mira wanted to see me again, she'd know where I was. There was a tingle in between my legs at the thought that Mira might hunt me down just to suck me off later.

Marie was quite smart and a quick study, but her actual twitch reflexes in action games were genuinely atrocious. As we played together, she offered me plenty of ego-boosting compliments: "Wow, you're good at this." "Oh man. Look at that." "That's so clever! I would never have thought of that!" It was definitely nice, getting compliments like that so consistently and easily. Basically every woman started drooling when I took my shirt off, but even when I was playing alongside a fellow gamer - for example, Lope - they rarely offered so many compliments to my raw gaming skills. Lope tended to complain that my power was basically cheating.

As we played on, Marie kept glancing my way. She'd look at me like she was thinking about something, then refocus back on the game. I had no idea what she was thinking about, so I just let her do as she liked.

I did, also, take the opportunities that appeared to glance at her breasts. They were genuinely amazingly big. They might even have been in competition with Kate's, which was saying something. She wasn't dressing to show them off, so I couldn't say for sure. Given that Mira was currently unconscious from being fucked-silly, and my sex drive had clearly risen to compensate for all the women I was fucking on the regular, I couldn't help but glance their way. My cock wound up tended in my pants as Marie focused on the game for a moment, leaning forward, her breasts seeming exaggeratedly large as gravity did its work.

When she glanced my way, I flicked my gaze back to the screen, but I was caught. "You like them big, huh?" She prompted me.

"H-hm?" I replied, swallowing. Some part of my brain reminded me that to a woman of this world, staring at her tits was like a girl staring at my dick. Crass, maybe, but also a turn-on and compliment. But my instincts had yet to fully adjust on that front, so my automatic response was to pretend I hadn't been staring.

"You were looking at my breasts. I guess Mira's are a bit on the smaller end, so you're unsatisfied with them?"

Time slowed down. I considered my answer. "I'm satisfied with any beautiful woman, regardless of how big her breasts are."

She laughed at that. "Does Mira know that?" I paused, staring at the screen instead of her, as I considered that. Mira knew I was fucking Kate, right? So she knew I was promiscuous. "No?" She prompted me, and I glanced back her way. Before I could correct her misconception, she spoke again. "Do you want to touch them?"

This was a social situation that I was pretty used to, honestly: a beautiful woman trying to get me to sleep with her. She had seen me half-naked, and seen me looking at her tits. She was close to Mira, so probably she was similarly flirtatious - wait, she wasn't a telepath, was she? I glanced at her pointedly. She just quirked an eyebrow, clearly having no idea what I was thinking. "Yes, actually," I said.

"Go ahead, then," she said, smiling warmly. There was just the hint of something else in her gaze, but I didn't really care if she was getting off on 'corrupting' me or whatever. I certainly hadn't cared with Priscilla. I reached forward for her breast, gently feeling it. It was large and soft, beneath the confinement of her top and bra. She was wearing a sports bra - almost every girl did, in my experience. Sometimes you'd see a push-up bra, but that was stigmatized as much as stuffing a sock in your underwear was. Girls wearing lacy lingerie was pretty much unheard of. They just bought them for function. The overall heft was definitely substantial, though. I couldn't, off-hand, tell if they were bigger or smaller than Kate's.

* * *

Marie felt those fingers of his just sink into her tit, and she couldn't help but smile. He really was just a complete slut, wasn't he? She had been so worried that she wouldn't be able to show his true character to her m- to Mira, but this would make it trivial. Her comm was recording everything. "Want to see them?" She prompted, and he nodded, stupefied, oblivious to the trap he was walking right into. She grabbed the base of her shirt, pulling it up and off, revealing her bare skin to the open air. Roger stared at her flesh openly, wantonly. He clearly liked the color of her skin.

She was used to it. Because the Democratic Republic of Congo had been the first country Mira had taken over, it was also the richest, and status did a lot for considering physical features attractive. She knew that in another time or place, her dark skin might have been considered low status, but here, in this world that Mira had made, she turned heads across the world. The exotic, rich foreigner always did. It did seem strange that someone from his world would like her skin tone as much as he did, shifting his hand this way and that as if to better contrast his fingers with her breast. "You can see more," she noted. "If you take it off."

He let out a small laugh at that. He was acting like such a teenage girl. She never thought she was that intimidating. Nevertheless, he reached for her sports bra, pulling it up and off, revealing inky, dark flesh to the open air. Her nipples were hard, of course. He was hot. It was easy to see how her mo- how Mira had fallen for him. She just smiled at him as he leaned in towards her breast, starting to suck on one nipple. Her fingers idly played with his hair.

Shame he was just a gold-digger. He was plenty hot, and he brought enthusiasm to the act, as his tongue flicked against her nipple, as his lips formed tight suction on her breast, as he did his best to pleasure her with his mouth. He did better than that, actually - after a few seconds, he clearly activated some superpower he had, and she couldn't help but groan at the intensification of the stimulation.

The movements all played out with even more force and pleasure than normal. His wet tongue slapping against her nipple, leaving a momentary trail of spit before he licked it right back up. The pressure and suction of his hollowed cheeks, starting and stopping, sending gentle waves of pleasure up her breast right to her head. The feeling of fingers sinking softly and gently into the supple flesh of her breast, played out at an accelerated speed, then joined by toying fondling that made her toes curl.

Even though he was only playing with her breasts, she wouldn't be surprised if she came from the treatment, but that'd probably be a bit too much, so she gently pushed him off her. "Come on," she said, her breath heavy as she caught his gaze. "You want more than just to touch these tits, surely? What do you want?" She asked, one hand going down to his groin. He was definitely very hard. "You want it. Just say it," she breathed the words out, promising as much as she could. The more she promised, the more he'd act to admit his own debauched tendencies, the promiscuity that couldn't be stopped even after finding himself in the bed of Director Mira Stone herself. Mira would understand.

"Wrap your tits around my cock, and pump them," he breathed out, meeting her gaze with his. Her eyebrows rose. There was, momentarily, the consideration that he wasn't a gold-digger - he was just a perverted slut. That was the sort of bizarre thing found at the bottom of rabbit hole three fetishes deep on some micro-kink website for a dozen guys across the planet.

But, after a moment's consideration - more likely he was both. If he was into that kind of bizarre breast play, then almost certainly the only reason he was fucking Mira was for her social position. In any case, she got down on her knees as directed, and he unzipped his pants at superhuman speed, his cock popping free. It was pretty good size - not insanely big, but decent sized. She admired it, the pulsing girth, the veins running across it. The scent hit her a moment later, thick and masculine, and she couldn't help but smile at it, taking a moment to luxuriate in the thing in front of her.

Then she leaned forward, one hand on either breast, and squished his cock inside them. It was definitely a weird thing to do, but he seemed to like it a lot, by the way he groaned, the way she could feel his pulse racing in between her breasts as his cock throbbed within them. His hands gripped the seat beneath him, as she began to pump her breasts up and down his length, staring up at him all the while. She had never done this before, so she kept a close eye on his every response - did he like it more when her breasts moved together, or separately? After a few attempts, she decided that he liked it best when she switched it up, going from one to the other, so she did that. Her breasts squished tight around his cock and rose and fell together - then she'd switch it up, make one go up as the other slid down. He seemed almost hypnotized by the show, watching as her breasts moved.

Soon enough, though, he had recovered his senses, and he reached down for her breasts himself. Where her fingers pressed her breasts together and manipulated them, his reached for her nipples, and those same superhuman skills at pleasuring a woman came to the forefront. It was easy to see how he'd tempted Mira, with skills like those. There was obviously an application of a metahuman power at play, but it was more than just a "make the other person feel good" sort of power, like that Priscilla Hart woman had. His fingertips vibrated and pulsed and slid against and around her nipples in ways that would have been utterly impossible, and possibly painful, if anybody else had done them - but his just felt good.

It was the pleasure of ten seconds compressed into one second, in short, and it felt truly fantastic. Of course, if he was perceiving her at such a pace, he was hardly going to be getting off unless she put an insane amount of work into it - and she wanted him to get off. She wanted his spunk to spray across her skin, so there would be no doubt in Mira's mind that he was nothing but a disloyal slut. Her gaze focused on him, as she leaned forward, wrapping her lips around the very tip of his cock as she continued to massage it with her breasts. He jittered at that, his cock pulsing back and forth a fraction of an inch, multiple times per second. He liked that, too. She slurped and suckled, figuring that pressure would be persistent, even in his altered state of perception.

It definitely seemed to work. She repeatedly lost the seal, sure, as his body twitched and throbbed in otherwise-impossible ways, but his cock persistently moved. She could feel every vein throb, feel the heat pulsing up through it, the way he desperately, eagerly closed in on his own orgasm. She did her best to keep up her work, tongue occasionally catching a droplet of precum as his body moved about wildly. He seemed intensely focused on her own pleasure, too, despite everything else - and she was actually the first to come, thanks to his intense attention to her breasts.

She'd never had a breast orgasm before. The sensations were unique, and new, as goosebumps ran across her flesh, as her eyes closed and she focused for a moment on the waves of pleasure pulsing through her body. Her fingers automatically squished her breasts all the tighter against his cock, just squeezing, and what might otherwise have been painful was instead intensely pleasant, hot breaths escaping her throat with each passing moment. She couldn't keep up the suction, so her lips wound up popping off his cock, as she knelt there, hands tight on her breasts.

He came at that point. Thick, spurting ropes of cum rained down on her face, and part of her mentally noted that he clearly enjoyed greater pressure on his cock, by the way his white seed sprinkled across her cheeks and chin. She sighed as he finished off, drinking in that delicious, distinctive scent of cum. The salty, noxious odor of it filling her nose as she knelt there. When he was completely spent, she popped off his cock.

Despite the temptation to do so, she did not keep going with the sex, instead standing up and going to an adjoining bathroom to wash up. Even if she'd wound up orgasming, she had done this for Mira's sake, not to get her rocks off. It was important to remember that. With the recording her comm had made of this whole thing - and she checked to make sure it had recorded flawlessly (it had) - there was absolutely no chance that he could play innocent to Mira.

Her mother would have no choice but to recognize that this man was not marriage material.