Ever since Nagatoro's sun-kissed hand accidentally felt the mighty girth of Senpai's hidden hammer of whore, a powerful biological force that long laid dormant within her was violently awakened. She would suddenly find that just being in Senpai's presence would cause her lower lips to quiver involuntarily, with each subsequent sensation becoming increasingly intense to the point where she had to start carrying up to 5 fresh changes of panties to school each day lest her nether regions overflowed like the Three Gorges Dam. She also began to notice that her body was slowly developing and accentuating certain parts of her figure in order to better biologically market herself to Senpai's tastes. Her breasts, which used to be flatter than the tops of Nevada's great mesas, started growing larger in size like a Mexican female after hitting the wall harder than Dale Earnhardt. The shape of her narrow hips began spreading out like a herpes outbreak among participants of a post-con hotel room orgy in preparation to properly accommodate the large constructions of flesh which would regularly enter and exit her sperm elevator.
While at first she tried to deny what her body craved, over time she found that she could not fight her raging biological desires and happily resigned herself to DIYing the future father of her children like an IKEA furniture set in order to craft the perfect vessel that can harness the full might of the veinous maximus hanging between his legs so she could finally live out her dreams of having her dick microwave repeatedly ravaged and left a blood-soaked crater like post-Mongol-invasion Russia by Senpai's purple-helmeted pelvic pillagings, her cervical walls constantly subjected to the never ending invasions of his great hordes of milky white womb warriors until her body submitted into becoming his slopping-wet slave-state, mind broken into willingly giving in to every pavlovian pounding until she was trained to instinctively bend down and raise her dicktatored derriere high up in the air like an enthusiastic german salute anytime he would tear her panties off to signal his need to satiate his carnal hunger and let her abused labia experience the taste of undistilled fear as it felt every inch of his massive cervix strangler aggressively prodding and coating itself in the slimy pregnancy porridge freely pouring out of her cuntilocks and it's three hairs until her desperate cock hungry pleas for primal protein enrichment finally drove him to administer a large dose of electro-cock therapy that would cause her tiny tanned body to convulse, slobber, and scream in slurred incoherence like Alex Jones during a typical Infowars broadcast.
However Nagatoro was not a patient woman. Her need for the seed had grown to the point where her hot pocket craved to be stuffed with thick meaty filling and enduring yet another day of her cock sock feeling emptier than Joe Biden's inauguration ceremony was driving her utterly insane. The problem was that she wanted her Senpai to make the first move, her pride would not allow any other outcome. But Senpai wasn't going to look like a professional wrestler anytime soon, nor would he start sexually abusing her like one. She just couldn't see it realistically happening. But what WAS more realistic yet just as arousing was her attraction to how vulnerable she made him whenever they were together and savored the power she held over him. He was the underaged film intern to her Kevin Spacey.
She wanted to swallow him up, and in more ways than one. She wanted to stick a finger up his Browneye 64 and viciously twirl her digit around his prostate like an analogue stick in Mario Party 1 while entombing his musky man candy within the wet confines of her mouth and getting off to the delectable sounds he made as she sucked and stimulated him into an aroused aneurysm. She wanted to shatter his pelvis and his mind while riding his baloney pony, bucking his bronco of beef curtain bruising with wild abandon until her womb whiskey drowned the bedsheets beneath them and transformed the middle of the bed into a watering hole. She wanted to revel in her dominance over him by tying his wrists to the bed posts and performing some kinky roleplay where she was EA and he was a semi-successful development studio, squatting over him and raining down hot steamy chunks of World Africa Day all over his chest. Nagatoro would often balk at how her lewd fantasies began resembling the type of stuff that would be found on the ass end of Pornhub and would often overcompensate through her teasing to obfuscate her depraved perversions from not just Senpai but from herself.
But yet despite looking and acting like an incel who was one bad day away from shooting up the school while blasting "Pumped Up Kicks'' by Foster The People on his ipod ,Senpai would spontaneously say or do things that would cause Nagatoro to run home leaving behind a snail trail of love lubricant in her wake, barrel through her house while barely mouthing a hi to her annoying thot sister, lock the door to her room, tear off her clothes, and call upon the very hand that once held a fistful of his bony macaroni to go to town on her sopping wet slut-and-slide while her free hand kneaded her mini milkers in rapid circular motions like she was making pizza dough. And boy howdy did she want to be treated like pizza dough. She wanted to be tossed, slapped, stretched, and pounded by Senpai. No other man could make her feel like both a serial rapist and their victim simultaneously. There was no helping it. No matter how many times she debated it, her internal arguments always circled back to one conclusion. He was Bill Cosby and she was drugged on his pudding pop.
As Nagatoro suffered through yet another night involving a sexually frustrated one-handed one-way, she resolved that it would be this night in particular would be the last. She was not going to be like Komi-san. She wasn't going to allow herself to wait an eternity of snail-paced progression in order to get her hairy handbag stuffed like a Japanese commuter train. There was only one sensible course of action that she as an average japanese school girl could take. She was going to have to seduce Senpai into committing sexual assault and book his ass into horny jail, and by "his ass" she meant his wank shank and by "jail" she meant her puffy prison purse. But how would she achieve it? Nagatoro had a hard time trying to maintain a coherent train of thought in order to answer that question. Her ovaries were violently screaming at her and all she could think about was transforming the art room into the set of a casting couch. The urgent need to clench her stench trench yet again overtook her and she helplessly gave in for round two.
Speaking of seduction, furniture, and the sexual exploitation of individuals with low self-esteem; it was only after she experienced another involuntary single-player speedrun of Twister that she was hit by a momentary lapse of post nut clarity which threw all three concepts together to form a coherent plan for penile procurement. Catching her breath, an ear-to-ear grin slowly grew on Nagatoro's face accompanied by a dribble of saliva escaped her lips. Senpai mentioned that his parents were away for the weekend. Knowing him, he was probably taking advantage of the privacy to engage in as many sweaty bouts of hand-to-gland combat with his pork sword to thoughts of her as she went spelunking in her slut cave to thoughts of him. With no friends or borderline autistic club presidents to disturb them, she could finally give Senpai the right type of nudge to get the zipper of his pants to budge. There was no way that Senpai would be able to squirm his way out of this one.
It was at that moment that Nagatoro realized that she was so preoccupied with her fantasies of Senpai giving her the lust and thrust that she failed to notice the excessive amount of drool leaking out her mouth as she blankly stared into space with a deranged look painted upon her face. She resembled the type of classmates Yoshi used to have before her mother let the Principal of the school take his skin bus on a bumpy tour of her tuna town in exchange for Yoshi being allowed to attend mainstream classes. Nagatoro recollected herself and wiped the drool with the side of her fist, revealing a sinister smile hidden beneath. Tonight she was going to be impaled like a 14th century ottoman on the outskirts of Romania by the voivode of her vaginal desires.
Senpai's eyebrows furrowed and twitched before his eyelids begrudgingly had to lift themselves up to let his eyes scan his bedroom. The sensations he felt of someone's hot breath tickling the hairs on his neck triggered instinctive muscle spasms dating from when his uncle used to come by and stay overnight. The days before the restraining order was filed by the family. Knowing that it didn't stop the fat fuck before, Senpai jerked around ready to find the ugly bastard trying to spoon with him only to be graced with the image of the sun-bronzed goddess who played the main female lead in his shameful renditions of "How To Tame Your Cum-Breathing Dragon" calmly resting on her side with one arm supporting her head while the other clenched the bedsheet to her bare chest. The exposed naked flesh above the cotton curtain caused his imagination to involuntarily start filling in the blanks for what lay below. The trademark smug grin that framed her face grew even wider when Senpai finally fully registered the scene and fell off the bed in overreaction. Nagatoro couldn't stop herself from giggling. He made this too easy. Much too easy.
A few minutes before, Nagatoro took advantage of the fact that the unusually hot night would mean that the window to Senpai's room, like the EU immigration policy, would be open to allow any horny tan-skinned individuals that could climb up a few feet of metal to enter the domain of the pale-skinned peoples before proceeding to sexually assault them. She was hoping that after climbing the drainpipe and catching him in the act of paddling his pink canoe to Cape Cumshot she could gaslight him into speedramming her to a glorious game ending where her gaping gash was glopping with gooey gogurt from his girthy gauntlet. Finding instead that he was softly slumbering, she quietly executed plan B. Like a game journalist when left alone with an inebriated female that wasn't a blue-haired hambeast, she climbed under his bed covers and began unclothing herself next to her victim. She carefully peeled off her tracksuit to reveal her school swimsuit underneath and slipped the straps off her shoulders, tucking them into the figure-fitting nylon to help complete the illusion for later. She felt a tad inconsiderate considering that she was on her period and would probably leak cranberry cunt sauce onto his bedsheets. But at the same time she WAS on her period and it was driving her hormones through the roof like a Ukranian nuclear reactor. It wouldn't be a big concern for him, she thought. After all, wasn't it normal for there to be a little blood on the sheets during your first time?
As Senpai regained some composure, he began stuttering inquiries about how she got into his room and why she was naked in his bed. Having already hit levels of smug that shouldn't have been possible, Nagatoro's grin went further beyond into a devious glare. She executed her next plan of attack. "Eh?~ what do you mean Senpai? Don't you remember all the lewd, unforgivable things you did to me last night?~ I was out jogging because I couldn't sleep and while I was passing by your house I heard you groaning my name from the window. I had to make sure you weren't doing something gross with my imaginary self because that would have been disgusting even for you so I climbed up to your room and…" she narrowed her eyes at him, looking almost seductive if not for the bottom half of her face beaming with insincerity. "Sure enough you were touching yourself in your sleep while moaning 'Hayase~, oh Hayase! It feels so good!'~" she mockingly imitated the supposed movements, her face now looking more cartoonish as she reveled in her torment. "I tried to wake you up to tell you how much of a naughty boy you were being but when you did you grabbed and threw me onto the bed and forced me into doing such lewd things! And now….I can never be a virgin bride!" she jerked up into a hunched sitting position and cradled the bedsheet to her chest, putting on an innocent look which failed to mask how much fun she was having. "It was scary at first but you should praise me for being such a loyal kouhai who took pity on her depraved senpai and kept him off the sex offender registry by sacrificing her virgin body to his carnal desires so that all the other girls in town would be safe from getting stuffed by that big fat cock I desperately want inside me right now".
She finished her sentence with such iron-clad conviction that it took a few seconds for both her and the owner of the big fat cock she desperately wanted inside her right now to register her freudian slip of the tongue. Nagatoro's hands loosened the grip on the bed sheets as she froze in mental shock when the reality of her fallopian-guided failure finally set in, causing them to cascade back onto the bed to reveal that her prior enthusiastic movements caused the top of her swimsuit to ride down, leaving her pale perky milk muffins fully exposed to Senpai's already bewildered face as her prank fell apart like the Soviet Union. The parade of failure did not end there as just then a new guest eagerly joined in on the festivities. Unbeknownst to both of them, Senpai's spastic movements from earlier caused him to tear a hole in his boxers right where the lootbox of his loins were located and the sight of Nagatoro's breasts caused it's contents to begin visibly unboxing themselves right in front of her. Nagatoro's eyes widened in both shock and arousal as she bore witness to her prize: a 'Blessed Staff of Vagimancy' with buffs of +1 to anal and oral penetration and 2 copies of the ever coveted 'Orb Of Child Crafting'. A small squeal involuntarily escaped her as she realized that her imagination HEAVILY underestimated his hymen devourer's fully hardened form. Her sperm processing facility began leaking like a broken shower head in a low-rent apartment and her nipples reached such a level of arousal that they could easily be substituted for box cutters. As their eyes met, their faces began to simmer with blushes of dark red, lips contorting in near perfect synchronicity into nervous wriggly smiles as their hormones fully took over.
Senpai and Nagatoro were passionately sticking their tongues back and forth into each other's mouths like missiles being lobbed between Armenia and Azerbaijan, both as naked as the day they were ripped from their mother's placenta. With the coordination of a car driven by an asian woman, Senpai guided his trembling hand to Nagatoro's breast and fumbled with trying to caress her nipples; which were swollen like meaty stalagmites sharp enough to cut slabs of solid steel. Her whore-ditch was violently leaking skank fluid all over the bedsheets, intermingling with her dried period blood as it yearned to be lit on fire by Senpai's fleshy zippo lighter of zygote inducement which her schickling hand was desperately trying to grab hold of with the grace of a three-legged cat with Parkinson's trying to bury a turd in a frozen pond. She finally snatched hold of it with the crazed tenacity of an American ripping through the stomach of a small child in order to get their hands on a flatscreen TV during Black Friday. Gripping it firmly, she moaned into his mouth in satisfaction as she explored his size, marveling at how her fingers couldn't fully wrap around his girth to meet her palms. Senpai's hand had less material to marvel at but like an unwashed weeb at Comic Con smacking lips with an overweight 3/10 that was willing to put out in an undisturbed stairwell, he would take what he could get.
As oxygen deprivation set in, their lips split apart like Korea circa 1945 in order to catch their breaths. Senpai gently placed his forehead onto Nagatoro's and both of them looked longingly into each other's eyes as the sound of their labored breathing parlayed the silence. The scene of sweet innocence that next occurred would have struck anyone within earshot with a sudden case of the diabeetus as the words they exchanged between them finally carried out thoughts and emotions that were long since unspoken, like the passionate opinions many a bus patron would desperately try to keep to themselves when individuals of sub-saharan descent displayed their refusal to acknowledge the existence of headphones as they blasted their culturally enriching music for the whole bus to hear. As they kissed and whispered christian-approved declarations of love to one another, Nagatoro's hand continued to polish Senpai's napalm launcher of neonatal nut juice as she excitedly primed it to drop hot sticky loads all over her south pacific rice fields. But not before they were freshly plowed first. She couldn't wait any longer. She wanted him to claim her like a Gamestop pre-order right this second. She picked her mind for something that would sound both arousing and sentimental to get her Senpai going.
"Well, what are you waiting for, Siegfried? How about you take that long sword of yours and use it to explore Demon Queen Nagatoro's wet dungeon?" she said to him in the most sultry tone she could muster, her seductive gaze unchanging during the awkward silence that followed as she successfully hid her embarrassment at the cringe-inducing line she blurted out from yet another mental failure. However to her surprise, fate rolled her charisma check past a 1 and onto a natural 20 as what she said awakened the biological desires that were long since untapped within her Senpai. Testosterone pumped through his veins like bags of cocaine through South America. He began assaulting her skin with a barrage of kisses, working his way downwards from the nape of her neck with uncharacteristically violent and primal movements that drove Nagatoro wild with excitement as he embarked on a cock crusade towards her Jerusalemic jizz hole. He made sure to make a stop at the twin peaks of her Mt. Mammary in order for his tongue to give blessing at both temples of titty that topped the modest mounds his hands were sensually terraforming. Nagatoro moaned and repeatedly screamed her approval as she used one of her hands to push him lower towards her horny holy land like a catholic priest when alone in a confessional booth with an altar boy. Her other hand occupied itself with tempering his bulging blade on her heated wet wheel to case-harden it for the impending population explosion within her cuntstantinople. Realizing that Senpai was continuing to move further south so his tongue could engage in diplomacy with her clit in order to ease tensions along her borders, she begrudgingly let go of his cunt conqueror in order to let him position his face between her legs.
Senpai arrived at his destination only to find himself facing a serpentine-shaped cotton obstruction jutting out of the entrance of her dungeon of dicking. His eyes nervously looked up at Nagatoro and she racked her mind for something that would reassure him. "A-are you a real nigga, Senpai?". Senpai barely had time to answer back with a flabbergasted "WHAT?!" before Nagatoro jumped off the bed and ran into his bathroom. He heard banging and crashing before she ran back and laid down a black towel on top of his sheets. She then fetched her phone and diddled on it for a few seconds before placing it on his nightstand and jumping back into position on the bed with her legs spread open like the U.S.-Mexico border as the music she chose to boost Senpai's confidence played:
~"Real niggas don't care about no periods
Put a towel down it ain't that serious
Just a bit of blood don't get delirious
Real Niggas don't care about no periods
Real niggas don't care about no periods
Put a towel down it ain't that serious
Just a bit of blood don't get delirious
Real Niggas don't care about no periods
I'm a real nigga.
I don't give a fuck.
Put a towel down.
It'll sop it up.
Just a wine stain
Oxyclean will get it
Spread those legs wide
Pussy getting renovated
Throw a towel down bitch it aint a big deal,
You wanna fuck too so just keep it real,
That tight pink hole is all I'm trying to feel,
So what it got a red blotch like a happy meal?
That shit to me is like a real gangsta red,
Like the stomach of a nigga getting pumped full of lead,
And I don't care if my homeboys say it aint right,
Pedal to the metal, imma run this red light."~
Senpai's limited knowledge of the english language could barely decipher anything from the horrid rap song being performed by the aggressive-sounding westerner. However Nagatoro's efforts were not in vain as he began feeling more bold and confident, carnivorous even. Right now the girl of his dreams was going out of her way to get him to man up and treat her like a woman. If there was any time to act like Chad Thundercock, it was now. Senpai was going to do it. He was going to be a real nigga.
Without a moment's hesitation Senpai grabbed the string of Nagatoro's tampon and ripped it like the cord of a Beyblade, sending her mind spinning. A crimson torrent of discarded fallopian fluid suddenly painted the black towel below them creating beautifully contrasting hues of red and black like those found on the body of Trayvon Martin. Senpai's nose was immediately assaulted by the rancid smell of what could only be described as a hobby shop during Warhammer night emanating from Nagatoro's wonderous lady garden. Senpai braved the noxious fumes, not willing to back down for the woman he loved. At that moment he would do anything to please her. He would even let her blast his face with hot braps and savor them like the greatest bong hit he ever had, and not just because her tanned skin made him think she ate mexican food and even a secondhand bean burrito would be delicious.
Senpai firmly grabbed Nagatoro's thighs and began dining on her raspberry shortcake, his tongue wildly darting around her salty wet folds like a crazed Floridian meth addict chased by Walmart security before plunging it into her wet depths and being rewarded with wild howling followed by a thigh pressing against the back of his head to draw him deeper into her. Remembering his painting lessons, Senpai moved his tongue around like he was painting a scenic portrait of Mt. Fuji within her wet-on-wet canvas while his thumb whacked her clit like Bob Ross beating the devil out of his brush against the art easel during an episode of "The Joy of Painting". Nagatoro's eyes rolled to the back of her head as her vision became clouded in titanium-white. Like your average Minecraft youtuber trying to avoid the urge of sending dick pics to their underaged fans, she wasn't able to last long and Senpai's face was soon splattered with more goopy liquid than a Jackson Pollock painting as she spasmed and made shrill noises akin to a Yoko Ono "art" "performance".
Senpai drank in her salty bacterial broth and savored the strange taste as he marveled at his work. Nay, his masterpiece. Nagatoro was spread over the bed, her limbs haphazardly pointed in different directions as she looked as limp and vulnerable as one of Kobe Bryan's date rape victims pre-insertion. Senpai's confident smile slowly collapsed into a disappointed frown and his hand nervously scratched the back of his head as he sheepishly looked away from her, his gentlemanly sense of decency overriding his body's yearning to bake his baguette within her furry furnace. "Um...I-I think we should stop here Hayase...I don't really have any protection a-and it would be really bad if you get preg-" his beta bitching was suddenly cut off by Nagatoro reanimating and pouncing on top of him, knocking him back down on the bed and holding him down. Her tongue, like the opinions of a militant vegan, shoved itself down his throat as her hands grabbed his wrists and forced his palms to squash her mandarin-sized mammaries like play-doh while her own frantically raked their fingers through his shaggy hair like Sakura combing her pubes for crabs before her next date. Her outer heaven was viciously schlicking along the length of his solid snake, her movements rushed and sloppy like the development of Metal Gear Solid 5. His womanhood-warping womb harpoon became saturated in more underaged ovarian orifice ooze than the front seats of a BTS concert as her lower body continued grinding into him like she was trying to grate his dick cheese. Naked, barely able to breathe, and having a head drowning in liquid; Senpai felt like a Guantanamo bay prisoner being waterboarded. Like the floor of a Jenny Craig yoga class, his will was about to collapse. He was going to give his tormentor what she wanted. What HE also secretly wanted. His hands dug into the firm yet supple skin of her ass cheeks and with little warning invaded her foreign lands with little care for the consequences. Nagatoro suddenly yelped in pain and Senpai realized that in a similar error to the U.S. army in 2003, he invaded the wrong borders.
As he profusely apologized for nearly wrecking the Detroit of her derriere, Nagatoro recovered surprisingly quickly and took the opportunity to teasingly chastise him. "Senpai~, just because I compare you to a gross dung beetle doesn't mean you have to act like one! Did my grosspai's wharf roach instincts get confused with his quiet pervert instincts?" she placed her hand over her mouth as she snickered "Senpai is such a virgin, he can't even rape a girl properly!". Senpai's face blistered with a look mixed between annoyance and disappointment in himself. Realizing that she overdid it again, Nagatoro quickly cupped his face with her hands and lifted it to meet her eyes. "S….sorry I ruined the mood….Senpai is really cute, which is why I can't resist torturing him…." she confessed, her face now matching Senpai's as she felt ashamed going overboard on her teasing again and losing her chance at finally receiving a Senpai Creampie. Her breeding facilities disagreed and drove her next actions on a cruise control for cock. Her face snapped into a shit eating grin. "It's okay, right? If Senpai stays a virgin for one more night? I want to make sure I get aaaaaaaaaalllll the mileage I can get bullying you about it before-" she was suddenly cut off when Senpai pushed her down on the bed, his pressurized vein cane hungrily prodding her cum craving calamari cock ring. Senpai had enough, it was time to pay Nagatoro back for all the teasing she put him through, and revenge was a dish served in beer can sized portions. Even though everything went according to plan, Nagatoro wasn't feeling so cheeky anymore. "W-w-wait Senpai I was only kidding, I-I-I'm a virgin too so you need to be gentle-" Senpai cut her off again with a sloppy french kiss followed by a grope of her breast. Chadpai was in control now. Her mouth may have said no, but her body screamed yes. Senpai lifted his head up. "Don't mess with me, Nagatoro-san" he said before he started filling her out like a job application.
Nagatoro now understood what the girls in hentai meant when they screamed "You are splitting me apart!". Her slime spewing spasm chasm was being stretched to its very limits like the fabric of a tube top moments before snapping off the body of a positive activist in denial of her gelatinous circumference. She felt more stuffed than an apartment full of illegal immigrants. But in pain there also came an intense searing pleasure and her grunts, gasps, and squeals began to bounce around the walls of his room. Senpai's resolve was firm and unyielding like an elderly man continuing to back his car up after running over the handicapped parking sign as he pressed onwards. Suddenly his face contorted in pain as though he was passing a kidney stone. Her tightness was absolutely indescribable. Senpai's sperm silo was being choked like George Floyd's neck while the pulsing heat radiating inside of his lover felt like the fires of hell where that fentanyl fellating felon currently resided. The combined stimuli between the sight of her heaving body, the sounds emanating from her mouth, and the intense sensations from the other one overwhelmed him as he desperately held in a premature orgasm like a fart in a church.
Despite feeling like her cunt flaps were so far apart that they were living in different zip codes, Nagatoro was swimming the seas of pleasure. She was as ecstatic as R. Kelly inside a Chuck E. Cheese. She finally achieved her wildest dream. Her Senpai was buried so deep inside her that any man that could unhilt him at that moment would be crowned King Arthur. She was suddenly surprised when Senpai bent his head down and smothered his lips onto hers before lifting his head and gazing at her flushed face with his own mess of a facial expression. After a small pause, his nervous smile finally opened up to say "I...I love you Hayase". "Aaughaoogheefffffuu'' she replied back, one eye looking vaguely in his direction while the other stared at the ceiling light as the combined physical and emotional euphoria made her go cross-eyed, drool oozing from the corners of the obscene grin plastered on her face.
Taking that as a cue, Senpai began dropping his hips onto her like U.S. drones dropping bombs onto Syrian children. The bed began to jerk back and forth like an unbalanced washing machine. Nagatoro's perky mounds vigorously swayed back and forth like the head of a toddler being rattled at the neck by their alcoholic stepfather. The sounds of his Oscar Meyer dog sliding in and out of her leaking love lasagna joined the percussion of his thighs slapping against hers like the mighty backhand of Chris Brown upon the face of an overrated pop star. Each thrust was met by a wet squelch followed by a squeal which grew louder and louder with each rearrangement of her guts as he battered her bruised cervix again and again and again. Senpai picked up speed and jackhammered his woody womb pecker into her heat spewing hatchet wound with the grace of a male chihuahua trying to mate with a dog that was twice its size. Nagatoro gripped the bed sheets tightly as she threw her head back from side to side, her back arching as her limbs ragdolled all over the place like an NPC in a Bethesda game. Not too far after, Senpai finally reached his limit as well and discharged his frothing fetus paste into her womb with such explosive force that it splattered out of her like a trashbag full of condensed milk hitting the pavement after being thrown from a 12 story window.
Nagatoro momentarily became a vegetable as her consciousness vanished like a Russian mail-order bride after their green card was approved. Her thighs softly vibrated in uneven spurts like a defective massage chair. Senpai pulled out of her with an audible 'pop' similar to the sound of a champagne bottle being uncorked and collapsed next to her, still barely able to process the speedrun of their relationship that occurred. Nagatoro's love hole, which now resembled the Lincoln Tunnel after a collision between a truck carrying cans of tomato soup and a tanker filled with bovine semen, was stuffed with so many children that it was running overcapacity like a migrant detention facility. The milky man molasses spilled out of her and onto the ruffled bed sheets, swirling around the various disturbed mounds of cloth to create a near perfect replica of Van Gogh's "A Starry Night". She snapped back into consciousness and made eye contact with her Senpai. Or rather, her boyfriend. Sex slave? Future husband? Regardless of whatever term they would hash out later would be, he was now her property. All for her. She finally got to have her cake and eat it too, literally, as she jumped onto his softening slab of salty sirloin and began straining her jaw trying to devour as much of him as she could. He just looked so cute that she couldn't help herself again. Senpai's protests of exhaustion went ignored. His mouth may have said no, but his body screamed yes. They would go 12 more rounds that night.
For the next week, Nagatoro would walk around with a wizard's sleeve between her legs. Every queef would sound like a breeze howling through a windtunnel and it would take about a week before her labia wouldn't be spread as far apart as the eyes of Benedict Cumberpatch. She would also be forced to avoid club activities no due in part to the noticeable limp she had acquired which made walking to and from school a bit of a pain. It wasn't all bad however, because the man limping beside her would always have his arms around her waist to support her whenever they hobbled together. As they walked home from school, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, Hayase turned her head to flash a devilish grin at Naoto, who responded with a warbled yet relaxed smile back at her. They stopped momentarily so she could lean into him for a proper embrace, something that was now one of her favorite addictions. Their eyes met and their faces began to simmer with blushes of dark red, lips contorting in near perfect synchronicity into nervous wriggly smiles, hormones surging like diarrhea through a rectum after consuming Taco Bell. To them, the soreness couldn't go away fast enough.