Dark Moon
"How was the black mage? Was he strong?"
No. 31 asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.
"He was the type who used Living Bomb black magic through rats. More of a nuisance than anything strong. No. 31, you could've killed him without much trouble yourself."
"Any other black magic?"
"Just Living Bomb. You know the kind of mage — the ones who obsess over a single spell until they drop dead. He was that sort."
I walked her through the fight against the black mage in plain words. Once she'd heard it, No. 31 seemed to lose interest; she gave a halfhearted nod and headed outside.
I shrugged once and made my way over to No. 212. She'd been hammering away at a laptop, and when I approached her eyes went round.
"Oh, No. 211. You're back?"
"What are you staring at so hard?"
"Just surfing the net. There are a ton of interesting posts. Once we head back to the unit we won't have internet, so I figure I should soak it up while I can. Want to join?"
"Nah. I'm good."
Something about No. 212's reaction felt off — stiffer than usual. I found it a little strange, but I didn't dig. She was entitled to her privacy. For all I knew, today was the day her magic was due to kick in.
I passed by her and stretched out on the bed. The unexpected black-mage tracking mission had left me exhausted. I'd come back around sunrise, washed up, filed the report — no real rest to speak of. My eyelids grew heavy almost at once.
"Go ahead and sleep. No. 31 and I have the escort duty covered. Fighting a black mage must've worn you out."
"…I'll trust you and get some rest. Wake me the second anything happens."
"Yeah. Of course."
I pulled the blanket over myself and shut my eyes.
The time I'd spent with No. 212 and No. 31 wasn't short. Their skills were more than good enough to leave in their hands.
My consciousness sank. Sleep came for me.
I dreamed. The moment I became aware of it, I knew — this was a dirty dream. Lately it felt like I'd been having an awful lot of them.
I was sitting on a sofa. Beside me were Han Harin and a woman who looked remarkably like her. Han Harin had black hair; the other woman's was white. I let my eyes travel slowly over their naked bodies.
Their figures were nearly identical — full breasts, narrow waists, generous hips. Both of them had thick thatches of pubic hair, though the colors differed. Han Harin's was black; the woman who resembled her had white.
The two of them came closer. Competing with each other, they ran their hands over my body. I stayed still. No — I couldn't move. Even knowing it was a dream, it refused to unfold the way I wanted.
Before long both of them were on their knees between my legs. They stuck out their tongues and licked my cock. I focused on the sensation. Dream or not, the feeling of being licked and the pleasure that came with it were startlingly vivid.
It felt good. I was lazily enjoying their blowjobs when I suddenly jolted. The dream was starting to fade.
A-already over? Why is it so short?!
A signal rose from below. Pleasure swelled and the urge to come hit me hard. I couldn't hold it. I came — and woke from the dream.
"…!"
My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright. An unfamiliar yet familiar sensation pulsed through my lower half. Startled, I threw back the blanket.
"No. 212…?!"
No. 212 had my cock in her mouth. I'd already finished, and it was half soft. She pulled her lips free. White semen glistened between them. Gulp, gulp — she swallowed it down, then gave me a sly, seductive smile.
"You're awake?"
"What the hell is this…"
"This is your fault. You've been feeding me your semen this whole time, calling it a snack."
Put that way, I had nothing to say. She pursed her lips against my urethra and started sucking with soft little pulls. The last of the semen still inside was drawn into her mouth. A shiver of pleasure ran up my spine. Blood rushed back into the cock that had gone soft.
"H-how did you find out?"
"I posted a picture of the snack online. People said it was semen. I looked into it a few more times and confirmed it for sure. Nowhere did I find any info saying semen tastes this good, though."
No. 212 took hold of my cock and rubbed it against her cheek. Her body heat and soft skin made my heart hammer.
"Hey. What did you do to your semen? Did you put a spell on your balls? Or get some special procedure?"
"I didn't do a damn thing. What kind of lunatic messes with their own balls like that."
"But your semen is way too delicious for that to be true."
No. 212's eyes sparkled as she fondled my cock. One hand kneaded my balls while she pressed her lips to the head as if it were something precious. My cock twitched. She stroked it like even that reaction was adorable.
"No. 212, are you going to keep going?"
"It's payback for lying to me. And eating a freshly made snack right after it was produced was insanely good. Better than the usual ones. You felt good too, right?"
Of course I had.
But saying it out loud felt awkward. Up until now, No. 212 and I hadn't had that kind of relationship.
"If you don't want it, just say so. I'll stop. I don't want to force anything either."
"…Like hell I don't want it."
"Really? Then I can keep going."
No. 212 opened her mouth. The inside was soaked with spit. She took my cock between her lips. Her mouth was hot and wet. Her tongue moved, sweeping along my length.
Compared to Lexy's blowjobs it was a little clumsy, but she sucked me with such unhurried care that it felt fantastic. Saliva spilled from her lips and wet my groin.
I let out a shaky breath and rested a hand on No. 212's head, stroking her hair. Brown strands tangled around my fingers. She took me all the way to the root and looked up at my face. The mental satisfaction was immense.
My hand drifted lower. Past her shoulder, just about to reach her chest — and No. 212 sat up, dodging my touch.
"No. Don't touch my breasts."
"What?"
"I just want to eat my snack. I'm not thinking about having sex with you. Still… if you really begged me for it, I might consider it."
How was I supposed to beg? I was turning it over when I suddenly snapped back to myself. Did I even need to beg? I wasn't a virgin. I wasn't starving for a woman.
I looked at No. 212 with serious eyes. The anticipation glittering in hers told me everything. I wasn't the only one hoping for sex.
I wanted to see her beg me for it instead.
"…Alright. If that's how you feel, I'll respect it. You said you wanted semen, right? Eat as much as you want."
"Huh? You don't want to have sex with me? I may not look it, but I'm pretty popular, you know?"
I knew that perfectly well.
No. 212's long brown hair had a strangely familiar feel to it, and her face was a beauty without a single hard edge. Her body was spectacular too — big breasts, big ass, and hands and feet that moved with a soft, almost lethal grace. Especially the way she smiled so gently; it made a man's heart skip.
"I know you're pretty. I just… don't want to force sex on you."
"……"
She stared at me for a moment, then suddenly sat up and pulled off her top. Bra and all came off, baring her chest. They were bigger than Lexy's. Lexy had said she was an E-cup, so… No. 212 had to be around a G.
At the tips of those pale breasts were pink nipples and areolae. The nipples stood stiff; the areolae were slightly raised.
"…Why'd you suddenly take your top off?"
"To show you. Men get more turned on when they see a woman's body, right?"
"……Can't argue with that."
"Want to touch them?"
No. 212 cupped one breast with her arm, pushing it up. It stood out even more. I could almost swear the pink nipple was trembling.
"If you ask me to touch them, I will."
"Hmph. Never mind. Let's just keep going."
No. 212 bent forward and buried her face in my crotch. She took my cock in her mouth and bobbed her head.
As good as my cock felt, my attention kept drifting to my thighs — because her full breasts were pressed against them. The way those soft mounds squashed and warped obscenely against my legs was more than enough to pull my gaze in and hold it.
…Should I just shut my eyes and beg? No. I've come this far; I don't want to. I've got pride too.
I stroked No. 212's hair. She said nothing about that. If anything, she seemed to enjoy my hand.
…Ugh.
The urge to come surged up. I bit my tongue lightly and held it back. I wanted to savor this a little longer.
"No. 212. Thinking about it, this seems a little unfair."
"Slurp…mmph, what is~?"
She asked around my cock, still licking.
"You're sucking my cock, but I can't even touch your breasts."
"Doesn't my blowjob feel good?"
"I never asked you for a blowjob. You're the one who wanted my semen."
"…You're right. It is a little unfair. Fine. How about this. I'll let you touch either my breasts or my ass. Which do you want?"
"……"
My eyes went to her chest first. Then they drifted to her ass. No. 212's rear was every bit as full as her breasts.
Charna
Remaining Stacks: 6
In the slowed time I wrestled with the choice for all I was worth.
Breasts. Ass. Breasts. Ass.
"…Breasts."
Those bouncing tits kept flashing through my mind. I couldn't help it.
"Okay. Go ahead — touch."
She went back to sucking my cock, and I kneaded her breasts. The sheer fullness that wouldn't fit in one hand felt incredible. When I scraped a stiff nipple with a fingernail, No. 212's waist jerked in little spasms.
She shifted and changed position, lying with her head pillowed on my thigh. It seemed like she was making it easier for me to reach her chest. Her heavy breasts couldn't fight gravity; they spilled out to either side.
"Suck, mmph. Mmph…"
She turned her face to the side and nursed on my cock the way a baby nurses a breast. Those wet pink lips and half-lidded eyes were pure seduction.
I kept one hand on her breast, squeezing and working it.
…Ah. The breasts aren't bad, but… maybe I should've gone with the ass after all…? Then I could've seen No. 212's pussy too.
I regretted my choice.
"Ugh — No. 212, I'm coming…!"
She pulled her head back and took only the tip in her mouth. Pleasure crashed through me as I came into her.
No. 212 sat up. She brushed her messy hair aside with one hand, looked at me, and opened her mouth. White semen sat on her scarlet tongue. She rolled it around the way someone tastes wine, savoring it.
Gulp.
She swallowed, then gave me a bashful little smile.
"Everyone else says semen tastes bad… but it's so good. I think I could get addicted. No. 211. Ask me again next time."
"…Just say the word. Semen I can give you anytime."
No. 212 put her top back on. I watched, not bothering to hide the disappointment. Maybe I'd been too obvious about it — she let out a short laugh.
Once she was dressed, she brought her lips to my ear.
"My pussy's soaked."
"What?"
I blurted it out in surprise. No. 212 had already taken a step back. She smiled and walked toward the door.
"I'm going to switch out with No. 31. You can rest until evening."
No. 212 left with her usual smile. My eyes went straight to her ass. She was wearing dress pants, so I couldn't tell what state things were in underneath.
Without meaning to, I pictured No. 212's wet pussy. My cock twitched.