The Hierarchy of the Bed
The semen clinging to the skin was stickier than honey just harvested from a hive. Every time Pinochia moved her chest, it stretched out like the cheese on a freshly baked pizza. Gretel grabbed Pinochia’s shoulder with her right hand and slowly pushed her down. "Ugh, what are you..." "Hee-hee." Pinochia was reflected in the green eyes of Gretel, who was looking down at her.
It was like a deep, lush forest of ancient trees, an uncharted territory filled with unknown vegetation where no one had ever set foot. A breeze brushing against the leaves of the trees swept over Pinochia’s entire body, carrying a scent that couldn't possibly be more refreshing. It felt like walking through a forest, enjoying the crisp air gathered from conifers, broadleaf trees, and wildflowers alike. She wasn't actually walking in a forest, so why? It was an ideal forest where not a single annoying bug buzzed around the fragrant flowers, only beautiful, colorful butterflies dancing through the meadows and fields. As Gretel looked down at Pinochia with those deep green eyes filled with pleasure and anticipation, that very scene shimmered before Pinochia’s eyes.
Why, exactly? Magic that intervened only with the mind without physical force, or magic that caused any such effects, did not work on Pinochia herself. That had always been the case, and she had believed it would remain so, but why now? It wasn't magic; they were just making eye contact, so why was her body heating up, and why couldn't she tear her gaze away from those green eyes looking down at her as if she were paralyzed?
Pinochia, who had been staring at Gretel with a bewitched gaze, closed her eyes instinctively as Gretel’s head slowly lowered. It was the behavior of lovers kissing, closing their eyes to stop looking at each other and instead savoring the moment through touch alone. It was an act of excluding the most important sense—sight—and feeling each other only through touch, smell, and hearing. Because she couldn't see, she felt even more excited and expectant. Led by her awakening heart, Pinochia closed her eyes so naturally.
"Ah..." The slick sensation she felt wasn't on her lips, but on her chest. It was the spot still stained with the semen Hansel had ejaculated. And Gretel wasn't acting demurely like a butterfly landing on a flower; she was flicking her tongue and licking it like a thirsty puppy lapping at a water bowl. "Why? Were you expecting a kiss like lovers?" "Ugh... yes..." "Then I'll do that later. For now, let me taste this first."
Gretel’s tongue, which had been traveling between the valleys of her chest, climbed the curve of the left ridge. In the wake of Gretel’s tongue as it swept away the semen, there remained not the semen Hansel had ejaculated earlier, but a transparent trail of mucus, like the path left by a snail. It wasn't slippery or unpleasant like that of a real snail. It was a contradictory feeling—a sense that something slick was moving over her body, which she thought she should find unpleasant, yet she felt no desire to reject it.
"Hnnngh..." She was only having her chest licked. The heat of the tongue was only touching her chest as it slipped out of Gretel’s mouth, so why was the sensation of being licked by that slick tongue spreading throughout her entire body? Pinochia couldn't fathom the reason. It was an itch, a yearning sensation. She couldn't refuse.
"Kyaa!" She had thought she was walking up a gentle, nearly horizontal slope, but she was startled by an intense stimulus that struck like a 90-degree vertical cliff, and a surprised cry blossomed instead of the weak moan that had been leaking out.
Gretel’s tongue, which had been tasting the semen along the ridge of her chest, reached the summit, licked Pinochia’s nipple—which had become harder and more prominent than usual—pressed down on it, and then flicked it. "St... stop it... Hah!" "You say stop, but you aren't pushing me away, are you?"
Gretel licked up the remainder of Hansel’s semen, which had been smeared there like breast milk flowing from a nursing mother, like a hungry child whining for food, and then took her breast into her mouth and began to suck. *Slurp. Sluuurp. Chup.*
"Hnn! Aaaah! Khhh... what... what is this..."
Gretel bit the edge of the areola, leaving tooth marks, then pressed and rotated her tongue against the hardened, protruding nipple. At the same time, she sucked on the breast, which was large and seemed full of nutritious milk. She sucked and sucked as if trying to drink breast milk, but nothing came from that chest; rather, the one doing the sucking was pouring pleasure into the one being sucked.
After sucking on the left, Gretel moved to the right, licked away every drop of Hansel’s semen that had been on Pinochia’s chest, and slowly pulled her mouth away. There were round tooth marks on the edges of both areolas, and instead of the white semen Hansel had ejaculated, they were now covered in the transparent saliva from Gretel’s mouth.
"Naturally, nothing comes out." "I am not pregnant, so how could I produce breast milk? If a woman who isn't pregnant produces breast milk, that is a medical condition." "Can you get pregnant, too?"
Could Pinochia really get pregnant, or produce something like breast milk from her body? Could a machine that was infinitely similar to a human, having realized its heart through sexual desire and pleasure, carry a child and give birth to new life like a real human? "Well. I don't know that either. I feel sexual desire and produce bodily fluids accordingly, so it might be possible, but I cannot say for certain. Perhaps Geppetto used some groundbreaking technology to make it possible." "Well, whatever."
"Hk?!"
Gretel, who had wiped her upper lip once with her tongue, kissed Pinochia in a surprise attack. At the unexpected kiss, Pinochia’s eyes widened, filled with bewilderment. Between their pressed lips, Gretel’s tongue forced its way between the other’s lips, opening them and invading inside. Gretel’s tongue entered Pinochia’s mouth without difficulty. *Slurp. Chup. Chuuuurp.*
Gretel moved her lips seductively, teasing Pinochia’s lips, and the tongue that had entered beyond them passed between her teeth, touching the roof of her mouth and the insides of her cheeks. Even from the outside, one could see the inside of her upper lip and the cheeks on both sides bulging and hollowing, showing something stirring inside Pinochia’s mouth. The slick surface of the tongue, normally wet with saliva, bent and twisted, teasing every corner of Pinochia’s mouth, and in the places it passed, it left behind a heat that was slightly fishy but subtly sweet. The identity of that heat was the semen of Hansel that Gretel had swallowed but remained in her mouth. Since Gretel had gathered it in her own mouth and swallowed it, there wasn't much left, but the lingering scent was incredibly deep and rich.
It was like a yellow kernel that had emerged after peeling away the sharp, thorny shell on a winter day and then peeling the dark brown grain inside once more. Only the scent of flowers, not yet turned into fruit, filled her mouth, but she could naturally feel the nuttiness and sweetness of roasting ripe fruit. Perhaps it was because she had wandered and run through the forest with Robin Hood since she was young. That bodily fluid was imbued with the deep scent of the forest. She was merely kissing Gretel, who had consumed Hansel’s semen, but Pinochia saw a fantasy shimmering before her eyes: a forest where leaves fluttered in the wind and squirrels ran about, gnawing on opened chestnut burrs.
"Hoo." *Squelch.* Starting with Gretel pulling out the tongue she had pushed in, their stuck lips parted. Pinochia’s lips were smeared with a mixture that had turned murky from mixing with the semen inside her mouth, and that sticky liquid slowly flowed down from the corners of her lips, having traveled between their mouths. She was clearly a body immune to magic without physical force, so why was she feeling so dreamy and dizzy? Seeing Pinochia with vacant eyes, as if a light climax had come from the kiss alone, Gretel smiled with satisfaction. Her hand slowly started from Pinochia’s shoulder, passed over her chest, went down her abdomen, and headed toward her waist.
She had only taken off her top; the bottom was still wearing jeans with a belt. As Gretel’s hand undid the belt and began to slowly pull down her pants, her black underwear, damp with the arousal fluid she had been hiding well, was revealed. Gretel’s fingers hooked into both ends of Pinochia’s black panties, and soon they began to be pulled down slowly along with the pants.
"Ugh..." She let out a short moan and showed a troubled expression at Gretel’s touch, which stripped her naked without asking for consent or permission, but she didn't actually reject it. Instead, she lifted her legs to assist Gretel’s touch as she stripped her. By the time the panties were caught on her left ankle, the pants had fallen completely to the floor, and the panties soon followed.
Once she was completely exposed, Pinochia avoided Gretel’s gaze looking down at her. The deep, lush forest of those irresistible green eyes. Vines growing in the forest were binding her, so why couldn't she resist at all? "Hansel? Let's do it one more time." Gretel called out to Hansel again, who had been watching the two women’s play after having been squeezed once on Pinochia’s chest. "Okay..." Hansel had no right to refuse. He had vomited hot semen into the cool pillow, and his penis, which had gone limp for a moment, began to harden again as blood rushed back into it upon hearing Gretel’s temptation. Although Hansel, who decided the policies of their adventures, was the leader, the hierarchy in bed was the opposite; Hansel was at the very bottom.