Real Penis Experience (6)
Real Penis Experience (6)
This is my recollection.
After the handjob fiasco with Uriel in the analysis room, the next day, I went to see Rina.
The place we met was the so-called Annex Reception Room.
As the name suggests, it was a space attached to Kang Rina's chairperson's office.
As she had mentioned beforehand, it was best for me, as a man, to avoid catching the eyes of company folks.
For starters, men—especially big burly ones like me—are rare as hell, so there was no way the company people wouldn't peg me as the infamous guy who'd been in the Cryogenic Device for 400 years.
Even a charismatic leader like Rina couldn't stamp out rumors entirely.
Sticking too close to Rina just didn't look good.
I wanted my freedom too.
Sure, I was under Rina's protection, but she was way too famous.
No need for me to crash that party.
I didn't want to smash my own shield.
On the TV (or whatever you call that massive screen), Kang Rina was always front and center.
Not just in the company, but splashed across all sorts of media as the "beauty entrepreneur."
I knew she gave a damn about her public image.
That's why she was super careful—not even dropping the Head of the Family title when we were alone.
A female chairperson using honorifics on a man? That alone could ding the company brand.
Whether for her sake or mine.
Better to dodge private meetups in front of prying eyes.
Hence, the Annex Reception Room.
You could enter straight from the chairperson's office, but it had its own separate door.
Thanks to the ID card Rina had given me ahead of time, I could slip in through the outer entrance no problem.
I was waiting all prim and proper when Rina came in, shutting the inner door behind her.
"Hey. I heard some real despairing crap..."
"2430 isn't any more hopeless than the 2030s. Absolutely not. Society progresses, after all."
Rina set down coffee in front of me and declared it like it was settled fact.
"Science and tech have hit peak cutting-edge. Average human lifespan's pushing 120 years."
"......"
"Average income's skyrocketed too. Wealth distribution's solid, welfare's the best in human history, crime rate's at rock bottom. A suffering-free society."
"...Yeah, got it, so can Head of the Family here get a word in first?"
"...Go ahead."
Rina lifted her chin all haughty-like, then plopped down on the side single sofa.
'This brat, dumping answers before I even finish asking...'
One cheeky niece-granddaughter.
Should I give her a scolding?
I mulled it over for a sec, then wiped it from my brain.
From keeping an eye on Rina up close, her thought process was lightning-fast.
Anticipating, scoping, judging—robot-level stuff.
She surprised me a lot, but times like this left me flustered too.
Looked like she'd preempted my gripes to shut them down.
My grumpy cutoff had her looking embarrassed, eyes sliding away.
"Hey... came with a favor."
"......"
"Build me a workout space."
"Workout?"
"Yeah, body's all achy—can't just sit still."
If I had a fuck buddy, I could use "exercise" as cover and pound away.
No women, no workouts—frustration city.
Needed to unleash this pent-up vitality like a beast.
"My old hobby was boxing, but Uriel said it's wiped out."
"Martial arts, you mean. Martial techniques..."
"Yeah, exactly."
"Anything involving violence on others—purely masculine stuff like that—vanished."
Rina pondered, savoring her tea's aroma, then tacked on quick.
"Of course, 'masculine' is just outdated lingo now... idiomatic at best, doesn't fit modern men. That kind of aggression's more anti-masculine these days."
"Ah, uh... right."
"If it's exercise you crave, there's pilates or ballet."
"......"
"Judging by your face, you're brushing it off, but it's sneakily tough. Great for stamina-building. Hits those core muscles, fixes your posture. Pole dancing too. Or sports dance..."
"No, no—I'm good. Really not that."
I waved her off.
Not dissing those sports for real.
But this body's itch? No way pilates scratches it.
Hell, even a sandbag to punch...
Deep down, gym was top pick.
Pushing weights to my limit would clear my head.
"They say S-X Virus triggers tie to innate energy levels too. Surplus energy..."
"Right. You wanna disperse that built-up energy. Pilates is plenty hard..."
"Ah... sorry! No, seriously—pass. I wanna lift heavy. Build muscle."
"Muscle...?"
Rina narrowed her eyes like I'd spouted nonsense.
"Muscle, as in..."
"Like this."
I bent my arm, striking a light pose.
Biceps popping—she had to see 'em.
Some muscle loss from 400 years sacked out.
But S-X Virus gripping my gains tight.
Plus home bodyweight routines—starting to shape up nice.
"...Body trait I flat-out lack. For sure."
"Give it a flex. You might have some."
"No... doubt it."
Rina eyed her own squishy arm, then bailed on posing.
Probably too embarrassed.
"But what's muscle even for?"
"Feels refreshing. And looks badass."
"Looks good... Head of the Family's got unique taste."
"You're too young to get it."
"Chronologically, I'm older."
"Let's not go there."
Rina voiced some worry.
First time eyeballing real muscle, but she got the concept.
To her, muscle screamed "man"—violence, outdated bullshit.
"Grow muscle, and you'll have to swear off outings even more, Head of the Family. Local guys mostly match women body-wise... minus tits and ass, so you'd stick out like a sore thumb."
"Wasn't planning outings anyway."
"...Well, that's a relief, then."
Rina seemed eased but not totally chill.
Still doesn't fully trust me, huh.
Of course, no intention of holing up here forever.
Facilities fancy or not, live as a caged bird for life?
Lion behind bars?
Men ain't born for house arrest!
Just figured following Rina's lead was smart for now.
"I... don't wanna lose Head of the Family all that much."
And Rina'd drop these heart-softening lines outta nowhere.
"Family, y'know. Blood of my ancestor, regardless."
"Yeah, distant kin but..."
"If Head of the Family stirs up trouble, it'll splash back on me—watch it."
"Iron wall mode out of nowhere!?"
Her soft bits got buried under the next icy line quick, naturally.
Still can't tell her real feelings.
Deep down, I figure Rina's a lonely soul.
No family? That's straight-up tragic.
Anyway, she fast-tracked gear procurement, hooked my room up.
Wanted a dedicated space, but whatever.
Plenty roomy already—not half bad.
Equipment built off my specs plus archived data—looks a tad off, but hit the muscles right.
Let me crank up my condition boredom-free for a good while.
*
"Ang♡ Ha-eut, aa, eu-ng-♡"
Uriel's body was soft like it had no bones.
Without the training regimen, it'd have been a nightmare—delicate as hell.
This type? I had to dial in "gentle" but steady force control.
Control's tougher than just going rough.
To keep from snapping Uriel's waist—ass up, face-down on the sofa—I tensed my thighs hard, arms propping my full weight.
All while plunging deep, full cock-length to raid her insides.
'Rina, thanks—training paid off, at least like this...'
I steadied my breath, tweaking the muscle burn.
Figuring my sweet-spot pace.
One hand fisting Uriel's white hair, I slammed her ass with rear thrusts.
Pushut, pushut-
Jet streams blasted from her pussy.
"A, aaaang, aaak...♡"
Uriel let out that sweet, strained moan.
"Quick study, Uriel. Reactions on point."
"Huee..."
But the Nordic Federation elite political scion—Eden Genesis Chief Researcher Uriel—had long since gone slack-eyed, tongue lolling, heaving for air.
Her white dress and undies from arrival? Strewn under the table.
Kkwaak.
I gripped or smacked her ass, stamping handprints.
"Hue, eut, aang..."
She'd yapped about men at first, but clamped shut eventually.
Just tiny animal whimpers.
"Yoheo-hae-eo..."
"Begging forgiveness?"
"......"
Her perky high-tone chatter? Down to sigh-level whispers now.
Pounding till she couldn't speak? Pure bliss every time.
I fingered her clit.
"Ueot, haaat! Aaak, cumming-!♥"
"Puhat, nailed it perfect. Brainiac as always..."
Uriel squirted hard in climax, hips bucking skyward.
I petted her hair, planted a kiss on her cheek.
Pinned under my 190cm bulk, she panted anew, clutching the sofa cushion.
Peoruk, peoruk, peoruk-!
Sex drought hitting me—starting to tire.
This on improved condition? Whew.
Short break, S-X Virus'll recharge my stamina.
But no overkill from jump.
I played merciful on purpose.
"Looking wiped—let's wrap it."
Yanked my cock, blew my load on her back.
Some splattered her white hair—barely showed.
"He, hee..."
Uriel flopped limp; I watched from a step away.
Legs jelly—no strength.
Overdid it for sure.
Gotta grind more workouts to hit peak form.
Uriel dug the "weak guy" vibe.
Post-ragefuck collapse? She'd forgive.
Still, to fit her fantasy, time to look more alpha.
I popped up quick, chugged fridge water, handed her some too.
