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Hotel Chaldea Ep. Atalanta (Alter)
🕑 Added 2022-11-14 03:48:37 +0000 UTCMedea's lips tasted as sweet as the sweets she had made earlier, and many times more so after you got done emptying your testicles inside her. Clinging to each other on bed had become your favorite pastime as a couple. Hard to imagine that you met this woman only barely over a year ago, and could no longer imagine what life was like before her.
"Well I'd rather not go back myself," Medea spoke, laughing a little. "And yes, you did say that out loud dear," she said, snuggling into your chest. "I do get jealous sometimes, but it is to be expected, when a man like you comes along, that there'd be many others literally sniffing after you."
"Literally sniffing?" you asked, frowning a little. "That choice of words seem oddly specific..."
Medea sighed, a smile drawing itself on her face. "Am I a strange woman? I'm certainly doing things I never expected I'd ever find myself doing... But at the same time, I've just been so happy lately... am I wrong for wanting to share with other women?"
"Are you... Medea, love, are you saying-"
"I might... maybe... have done that, uhm, that thing I did for miss Tomoe again," she said, looking aside, not willing to meet your eyes.
"What, exactly, happened?" you asked.
"Well... I was speaking with a... let's go with friend," she said, clearing her throat, "and she just- well, you know, she seemed to get interested, and one thing led to another, I may have been several drinks into the night by then," she said, covering her mouth.
The door to your room opened. There, in a tight, black tube top and tiny denim shorts, was a woman you hadn't quite met before. She had long silver hair, that seemed to have a faint lavender, purplish tint where it was most plentiful. Fluffy ears twitched, and a furry tail moved- no, wait, it was a double tail.
Chaldea's modifications proving themselves once more.
Glassy, foggy green eyes scanned the room, then centered on you. A pink tongue came out and licked at a pair of dry lips, and you found yourself gulping. A purple tattoo, in bright, luminiscent ink, was drawn over her womb, and her denim shorts were open to reveal a purple thong of the same shade as the ink of the tattoo.
"Medeaaaa," you protested, already knowing that tonight, already spicy, was going to get positively burning hot.
"Well, my love, my darling, light of my life, my other half, the man I've dedicated myself to," she said, giving you a proud smile that told you she had definitely been spending way too much time with Nero, then gestured at the catgirl who was emiting freaking steam from her nostrils, it looked like! "This is my gift to you. I've seen that you quite enjoy those who have animal features! Please enjoy Atalanta to your heart's content!"
"So... poker game or..."
"I lost at poker yes," Medea finally admitted, slumping. "But that's got nothing to do with this, this is this, that is that," she said, nodding, gesturing at Atalanta. "Please? She needs it really bad."
Atalanta climbed on top of you, on the bed, panting heavily, crawling on top of you, straddling your crotch and rubbing her barely covered cunt against your cock. "Nnnghh... I- I can't, hold back, anymore..."
"You held out admirably," Medea said with a smile. "Husband, that tattoo... it's the sign that she's in heat. Without explaining too much," she said, "she needs a dick, really badly. The clients just can't do enough," she explained. "She needs someone... better. Someone like you," she explained. "When I learned of it I couldn't just leave her to suffer, and when I thought of a good man who could sate her lusts..."
"You thought of me?" you asked.
"P-Please," Atalanta said. "I- Need it," she panted, looking into your eyes. "Can't," she gulped, "can't think, can't- cock, I want, cock," she drooled, her breathing was heavy and her cunt hot. She was overflowing with wetness, so much so that you felt through both layers of her clothing.
Medea kissed you, and moved aside, getting off the bed. She smiled at you. "I'll be back soon, with tea and biscuits, for when you're done with her," she said.
Atalanta growled, her tail whipping about.
You looked at her. "Are- are you-"
She nodded. "Smell... smell good," she half moaned, half growled. "Smells... of cock, of sex," she said, her mouth hanging open, face flushed, eyes misty. "Fuck- fuck me," she begged. "Mate..! Mate..! Be- be, my- ghu, mate..!"
"You heard the lady, dear," Medea said with a wink.
"Alright," you said. reaching towards Atalanta's thigh.
Her scent was overwhelmingly strong and was already overcoming the remainder of the scent Medea had left on you. It truly did feel more like a wild beast in heat than a regular woman. Were the modifications Chaldea made to its specialty individuals like Atalanta so thorough and complete? You didn't, and couldn't, know. At this point, you were starting to find you didn't care.
Especially when Atalanta's denim shorts went flying, and her thong clad cunt began to rub more intensely against your cock. She panted, and looked down at you. Your cock was hard in moments, and you breathed in deeply, taking in that ridiculously intense scent... the stink of a woman in heat.
She crashed down onto you, and it felt like she was trying to devour you, to drink you in, to eat you up entirely, her tongue invaded your mouth, and her hands ran all over your chest and then went up to your face. Your own hands grabbed onto her now naked ass, her tiny purple thong doing nothing to prevent your exploration.
The kiss intensified, as the two of you made out more intensely with every passing second, tongue on tongue, lip on lip, crotch on crotch. She was hot, intensely so, not just metaphorically, but her body was overwhelmingly hot. Your cock was hard already when she started, but now covered by her juices, you were ramrod straight and harder than steel.
She moved, her hands on your chest and stomach, purring as she seemed to completely lose her conscious mind, and seemed to be trying to mount you properly, to devour you with her lower mouth, apparently forgetting that she still had an article of clothing on.
When you tried to help her, her hands snapped to your wrists and she forced you to hold onto her thighs, her grip strong as iron cuffs. With a growl that was half anger, half desperation, she grabbed onto her own thong and tore it off of her body, purple fabric flying in strands and pieces.
WIthout further ado, she raised her hips, and with a powerful slam that made the bed protest, she devoured you in a single swoop, yowling out in intense pleasure, arching her back and facing up, mouth wide open.
You screwewd your face and tightened your muscles in preparation, as a wave of intensely potent pleasure came from her insanely hot and tight cunt. It felt like you were fucking a virgin, no, someone who hadn't gotten any in decades, centuries, millenia even! This level of desperation was absurd, she wanted you so insanely badly that you could feel it in your very bones.
This wasn't just fucking, this was an act of mercy, and suddenly, you understood why Medea couldn't even think of saying no to this woman's desperate plea for cock, she needed it so badly that she had a chain of multiplie orgasms that was wracking her body and making her shake uncontrollably, just from insertion alone!
And she wasn't content there, not at all, leaning her weight on her arms and using your chest as her support, before she immediately began to bounce her hips on your cock at a fast and merciless pace. You could FEEL her internal walls going absolutely mad, as she brought herself to more and more orgasms.
The tattoo on her body, over where her womb would be, was shining brightly, and your mind couldn't even comprehend what was going on, the sound of flesh on flesh, skin on skin, slapping, wet, naughty schlicks from her insanely wet, overflowing pussy, the thickening scent of feline in heat...
It was just too much.
"Ghua, fucking- I'm, I'll cum!"
She directed a powerful glare your way, and for a moment, your thoughts arrested, and a spike of fear coursed through you. Did she- was she- It felt like you couldn't, like something terrible would happen to you, if you let it out, if you came inside her. For a moment you felt like it would be certain death, should you let it out inside her-
And then the bright tattoo over her womb shone even brighter, and a pink haze was cast over your thoughts and over her eyes, it felt like a mist had filled the room, and Atalanta melted over you, the sensation of fear passing, leaving behind it uncomfortably potent jubilation and most important of all...
The release of tension, instant and unstoppable, coming out of you with a groan and a moan that sounded distinctly unmanly, in the shape of a torrent of cum, squeezed directly out of you by her cunt walls, which milked you like crazy.
She honest to goodness let out a whining meow, eyes crossing as she twitched and writhed on top of you, for a good thirty seconds, just basking in the feeling. It was immoral, it was almost bestial. It wasn't sex, it wasn't love, it wasn't even something that was done for pleasure.
It was a deep seated hunger, for no reason other than an unbelievable potent physical need to mate.
And based on her panting, and the fact that her eyes were still clouded over with a haze of lust... it wasn't enough just yet. After nearly a minute of resting, of just feeling the warmth of your cum inside her, Atalanta began to move again, slowly at first, but then picking the pace to go as fast as she had before.
Now her voice was coming out more fiercely. She had the ability to vocalize her pleasure and she was using it. Something had broken in her, whatever she'd been holding back was no longer contained.
Her tongue lolled out, and she leaned back, shaking her hips furiously, feeling like your cock was being strangulated you could do little else other than hold onto her and tighten up your muscles, a futile effort because her madly squeezing insides quickly drew you closer and closer to the line once more.
The fact that she seemed to be in a ceaseless, neverending state of orgasm, where she was just climbing higher and higher into the peaks of pleasure and coming undone, was driving you to the brink as well, and as more and more of her scent invaded your nostrils, filtered through to your brain, and seemed to course through your body via your veins... you found that you were unable to care.
The last conscious thought in your head was about how Medea had absolutely not prepared you for this. Especially as your second orgasm hit you, and you poured yet another thick and heavy helping of babymaking cream up the catwoman's snatch, with her writhing and meowing and purring and looking like the cat who got the cream, for all the world, and was yet unsatisfied.
Panting, your body took the reins and with all the strength you could muster, you used the brief moment of respite granted to you by her extra strength orgasms when you came inside her, and then flipped positions so you were on top of her.
Before she regained her bearings, you immediately began pounding into her, holding her down by the shoulders, and claiming her lips once more, each thrust eroding more and more of your mind, until nothing but pleasure remained.
The next thing you remembered, Medea was feeding you tea from a cup, and you were incapable of moving a single muscle.
You also tried not to look at the fact that Atalanta was face down, ass up, on the ground. After seeing that, you'd start feeling like people just did not have a concept of what it meant to 'cum buckets', but now that you did, you were terrified of what you could do with sufficient motivation...
"So how was it?" Medea asked. "That tattoo I gave her... it should've made things a little easier for you."
Your voice came out like the sound of dust running down a chute, and you were about as eloquent.
Medea smiled and kissed your cheek. "You need a shower," she said. "Don't worry, you'll be fine... probably."
More sounds of dust came out of you.
At least you had a hot tub in your bathroom now. The perks of being a valued department head!
For some reason, you would periodically get the pelts of small animals sent to you as gifts by an anonymous sender from that day onward.
