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The string quartet was sliding into a tipsy rendition of “Shut Up and Dance” like they’d never seen sheet music before. Fairy lights made a galaxy of the reception hall. Alex and Kelly were orbiting each other in the centre of the dance floor, grinning so hard it looked like it hurt.
At Table Seven, Nia fanned herself with a place card. “Okay—but be honest. Who here did the whole college experimentation circuit?”
Kelly peeled herself off the dance floor and slid into the empty chair beside Nia, champagne in hand. “Do you want alphabetical or chronological?”
Alex groaned, flopping into the seat next to her. “Chronological is redacted. And for the record—I didn’t. No experimentation. If I had, I probably would’ve figured out the whole ‘gay’ thing before thirty.”
Nia raised her brows, clearly filing that away for later teasing, then swung her “gavel” of a place card toward Brainy.
Brainy straightened. “During my term of study on Colu, sexual experimentation was considered… standard. Our institutions encourage intellectual, emotional, and physiological exploration as part of one’s development.” He paused, tilting his head. “So in context, yes. Though it was neither scandalous nor unusual.”
“Noted,” Nia said, lips twitching. She swivelled to Kara, whose eyes had gone very round and very blue behind her glasses. “Danvers?”
Kara sat up stiffly. “I… did Model UN.”
Kelly laughed. “That doesn’t count, sweetheart.”
“Sure it does,” Kara said, a little defensive now. “Diplomacy. Debate. Very intense.”
“Uh-huh.” Nia ticked boxes in the air. “Alex: late bloomer. Kelly: chronological chaos. Brainy: Coluan free-love commune. Me: guilty as charged. And Kara—”
“Did Model UN,” Kara repeated firmly, cheeks pink.
“Adorable,” Nia declared. “Okay, everyone take a drink for Kara’s devastating innocence.”
Kara made a face, lifted her glass anyway, and smiled towards the open terrace door.
On the other side of the glass, Lena’s voice threaded low and precise into her phone; some overseas board member was refusing to accept her out-of-office. She caught Kara’s eye, sent a tiny wink—save me—and went back to eviscerating someone in Luxembourg.
Kara felt the smile stay with her, warm as champagne.
A few days later, Lena and Kara were three episodes deep into a gorgeously queer-coded sci-fi show whose budget went to lighting and longing. A carton of potstickers sweated on the coffee table between them; Kara had already eaten a scandalous number and was pretending she hadn’t by aggressively rearranging the survivors.
On screen, two women reached for each other’s hands, then didn’t. The music swelled. Kara blurted:
“Have you ever—kissed a girl?”
Lena tilted her head. “Is that a proposition or a poll?”
Kara turned pink to the ears. “A poll! Academic! Well, not academic, just—we were talking at the wedding. You were busy with… Luxembourg.”
“Luxembourg was under the impression they owned me.” Lena stole a potsticker with delicate theft.
Kara chuckled. “Yeah, well, we couldn’t ask you, because you were gone—but pretty much everyone except me and Alex admitted to fooling around in college. So now you’re here, and I can ask: have you ever kissed a girl?”
Lena chewed her potsticker thoughtfully, eyes fixed on Kara, letting the pause stretch just long enough to make the blonde squirm. Then, at last, “I went to an all-girls Catholic school, Kar. I’ve kissed more girls than boys.”
Kara’s brain made a soft Windows error noise. “Oh.”
“Disappointed?” Lena’s voice was playful, but her eyes, as always, were measuring something that mattered.
“No! I mean—no. I’m just… curious.” Kara tucked a foot under her thigh, turning to face her fully. “So you—experimented.”
“I experimented,” Lena agreed. “Repeatedly. With extra credit.”
Kara’s laugh burst out, helpless. “And now?”
Lena lifted one shoulder. “Now I’m… not picky.”
“Not picky,” Kara echoed, shamelessly fascinated. “Pan?”
“Pan,” Lena confirmed, a small, proud smile at the edge of her mouth.
Kara sat with that for a moment, heart tripping. Something about the openness of Lena’s tone—the casual pride, the ease with which she said it—made Kara ache with both admiration and something sharper she didn’t want to name. She wanted to know more. She wanted to understand.
Kara hesitated, then waded deeper. “And the… experimenting—was it just… regular?” She flailed a hand.
Lena’s smile sharpened. “Define regular, darling.”
Kara coughed. “Y’know. Normal. Human. Stuff,” she gesticulated vaguely in the air between them, “I don’t know! I’m new!”
Lena considered her for a beat, then took pity—if ‘pity’ could look that amused. “I enjoy variety. And design. And imagination. Let’s say that, ah, a certain… boutique manufacturer of interesting shapes and materials has my loyalty points for life.”
Kara blinked. “Bad Dragon?”
Lena froze for half a heartbeat, then her smile spread slow and sharp, predator’s delight. “Kara Danvers.”
Kara’s ears went crimson. “I—I’ve only heard of it!” she stammered. “Online. People mention things. Sometimes on Reddit. Or Tumblr. Not that I use Tumblr. Anymore. For… fanfiction.”
Lena laughed, low and wicked, leaning in. “So my sweet, innocent reporter not only knows what Bad Dragon is, but recognises it from the vaguest hint?”
Kara covered her face with both hands. “I read one article! It was for work!”
“Of course it was.” Lena’s grin was unbearable. “Research, no doubt.”
Kara peeked out from behind her fingers, mortified and pink. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Oh, darling,” Lena purred, sipping her wine, “you have no idea how much.” She let the words linger, then finally added, almost lazily: “There are others, too.”
Kara made a tiny, strangled sound. “Oh.”
The show murmured along, forgotten. Lena propped her chin on her fist, studying Kara’s blush with undisguised delight. “You’re intrigued.”
“I—yeah.” Kara made a helpless little circle in the air. “What… what’s your favourite?”
Lena toyed with the edge of the carton, savouring the hover of the moment. When she spoke, it was light, perfectly casual, utterly lethal. “Ovipositors.”
The word landed between them with gravity.
Kara’s lips parted. She swallowed, eyes flicking away and back. Carefully: “And you… like those. Specifically.”
“It’s the biological audacity,” Lena said, eyes brightening, sliding into her scientist cadence without losing any of the heat. “The evolution, the engineered purpose. It’s… fascinating.” She tapped the couch with a forefinger, then met Kara’s eyes, unblinking. “And obscenely hot.”
Kara stared. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. After a long moment, she managed, hoarse: “Huh.”
Lena leaned back, smug as a cat that had watched the canary hop straight into its cage. “Another potsticker?”
Kara grabbed one blindly, shoved it in her mouth, and chewed like it might buy her time to think. The words left her before she could stop them: “Can I… see?”
Lena actually choked on her own potsticker, coughing into her napkin. “You—you want to see?”
Kara’s eyes went wide as she realised what she’d just asked. “Uh—yeah?” she croaked, then winced. “I mean—only if you want to show me! For science. Or, um. Not science. Just… curiosity.”
Lena’s smile returned, sharp and slow. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin, set her carton aside, and rose with deliberate grace. “Wait here.”
Kara sat frozen on the couch, chopsticks dangling from her fingers, until Lena returned with a sleek, velvet-lined box. She perched beside Kara, opened it, and revealed—
Kara choked on a breath. “Oh, Rao.”
Nestled in the box was a sculpted toy that looked like something plucked from the dreams of an alien botanist. Cast in a swirl of pastel purples and luminous blues, it shimmered like bioluminescent coral under deep water.
The shaft was thick and textured, ridged with twisting patterns that seemed almost alive, tapering from a girthy base to a smoother, more supple tip. A slim tube attached to a hand pump promised its most decadent feature: the ability to seed the user with soft, glowing silicone eggs, each one marbled in the same ethereal hues.
It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t pretending to be anything human. This was a toy designed to indulge the fantasy of surrendering to something entirely other—to be filled, stretched, and finally left trembling as the eggs slid back out in a slow, aching release.
“This one’s my favourite,” Lena said matter-of-factly, though her cheeks flushed prettily. She trailed a finger down the ridged length, almost absent-minded, like she was describing a prized violin. “Beautiful design. Realistic density. Very effective.”
Kara swallowed, gaze flicking from Lena’s fingers to the toy and back again. She couldn’t stop the words that spilled out: “That’s not an ovipositor.”
Lena’s brows shot up. “No?”
Kara’s blush crept to her hairline. She ducked her head, voice so soft Lena almost missed it. “I—I have one. I should know.”
For once, Lena was the one left speechless, her lips parting, eyes widening as if she’d just stumbled onto the most delicious twist in a mystery novel.
“Oh,” Lena whispered, reverent and ravenous all at once.
Lena tried to be normal. It went poorly.
She found herself zoning out in board meetings because the angle of Kara’s hip in that skirt during the Tower debriefing was… educational. Numbers blurred on the page while Lena’s brain quietly recalibrated for thigh-to-waist ratios. She typed an entire sentence into a quarterly report before realising it wasn’t financial analysis at all but an equation—an estimate of approximate length and girth based on height, weight, and muscle density.
At home, she over-salted a risotto because Kara had laughed at something on her phone, head tipped back, throat bare. The sound arrowed straight through Lena, and her imagination, like a traitor, began sketching diagrams. Not business diagrams. Not even scientific ones. Anatomical blueprints. Obscene ones.
Twice she lost her train of thought mid-sentence and blamed jet lag she didn’t have. Once, she actually forgot her own name on a press call, her tongue tangling around “Luthor” because Kara had bent over the conference table to retrieve a pen.
The worst was the lab. Kara leaned close over her shoulder, pointing at a data set with that effortless warmth, and Lena’s hand moved of its own accord—hovering, fingers reaching toward the curve of Kara’s waist like metal pulled to a magnet. She yanked it back before contact, pulse hammering, but the phantom of the almost-touch lingered in her palm.
Kara noticed. Of course she did. By day three, she was watching Lena the way she watched approaching thunderstorms: curious, cautious, a little awed.
Kara intercepted her in the elevator bay, blocking the doors with one palm as they tried to close.
“Hey,” Kara said, gentle but immovable. “Are we okay?”
Lena—hair perfect, mouth perfect, composure in tatters—stared at the panel of glowing numbers like they might offer her an escape route. “Of course.”
“Lena.” Kara’s voice dropped, coaxing but firm. “You’ve been… weird.”
Lena gave a brittle laugh. “I’m always weird.”
“Not like this.” Kara shifted, wringing her hands in that nervous way she did when the truth mattered. “Ever since we talked—about, um, experimentation—you’ve been different. Was it too much? Did I make you uncomfortable? Because I’d never want—”
Lena blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then, with the kind of precision usually reserved for board meetings, she said: “I can’t stop thinking about your genitals.”
The elevator doors tried to close again. Kara’s palm didn’t budge. Her whole face went scarlet. “Uhhhhhh.”
“And I would very much like to have sex with you on every available surface,” Lena continued, crisp as if she were presenting quarterly earnings. “It has been… difficult to maintain a platonic relationship when I’d much prefer to see you naked.”
Silence. The elevator chimed its impatience and gave up.
Kara’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again, helpless, soft astonishment reshaping her whole face. “Oh.”
“Too much?” Lena asked, the barest tremor underneath the bravado.
Kara’s laugh cracked like sunlight through a storm. “Not… too much.” Colour swept up her throat. “Just… sudden.”
Lena’s chin lifted, courage or stubbornness carrying her the rest of the way. “We could start less suddenly. If you’d like?” She licked her lips.
Kara’s knees considered betrayal. “H—how do you mean?”
“You could kiss me,” Lena stated, sure as a sunrise.
Kara’s lips parted, but no words came. Just a breath. Then another. And then she stepped in, close enough for Lena to borrow it. “I could.”
The elevator doors finally slid closed.
“You should,” Lena murmured.
Kara did.
It wasn’t a polite kiss. It wasn’t even a first kiss, not really. It was the kiss accrued from a hundred almost-touches and a thousand swallowed confessions; the kind of kiss that made the harsh fluorescent elevator lights soften out of respect.
They broke only because lungs insisted. Lena’s forehead tipped to Kara’s, and Lena’s next laugh was a little wrecked. “I want to measure it.”
Kara’s answering laugh was shaky and thrilled. “Maybe we can leave the science for later.”
“Later,” Lena agreed—and let Kara back her against the cool elevator glass for one more kiss that promised everything that “later” could hold.
They barely made it out of the elevator. Every time the doors opened on another floor, Kara had to wrench herself back, lips dragging from Lena’s like she’d been caught stealing fire. By the time they reached the lobby, Lena’s lipstick was a lost cause, and Kara’s glasses sat crooked on her flushed face.
They didn’t even speak about where to go—just moved, together, as if tugged along by some invisible thread. Kara’s hand caught Lena’s, and then they were in the air, city lights streaking around them. The wind tangled Lena’s hair, stung her eyes, but Kara’s grip stayed steady, hot and unshakeable.
The next clear moment was Lena’s apartment door slamming shut behind them. They stumbled across the threshold still kissing, still tugging at buttons and zips like time itself might close the opportunity if they slowed.
Kara’s shoulder clipped the edge of Lena’s bookshelf. A stack of first editions avalanched to the floor. Lena barely managed a breathless, “Careful—” before Kara kissed her again and sent the warning scattering with the books.
They tripped over the rug, banged against the arm of the couch, left a trail of wreckage in their wake: heels abandoned, Kara’s shirt hanging half-off one arm, Lena’s blazer crumpled in the hallway. A lamp wobbled dangerously on an end table before toppling, the crash drowned by Lena’s moan when Kara pressed her against the wall.
By the time they reached the bedroom, both of them were laughing between kisses, wrecked and giddy and utterly unwilling to stop. The door banged open, hit the wall, and neither cared as teeth nipped and fingers pressed and clothes fell in material puddles at their feet.
They stumbled toward the bed, never disconnecting for more than a moment as they arranged themselves on the mattress in a pile of sweat-slicked skin and misplaced lipstick.
“I want to see it,” Lena whispered between kisses, nails dragging white lines down Kara’s impenetrable back. Kara hummed, low and trembling, before leaning back. For a moment, Lena wanted to drag her close again, greedy for her mouth—but then Kara hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her boyshorts, and Lena forgot how to breathe.
When Kara let it unfurl, it wasn’t silicone, it wasn’t the sculpted fantasy Lena was used to—it was alive.
Retracted, it hid seamlessly, letting her pass as human. But arousal pulled it forward, extending in slow, pulsing swells, like muscle uncoiling. Each throb wasn’t random—it moved with her heartbeat, swaying faintly in rhythm, every pulse betraying how much Lena affected her.
The shaft was ridged in an accordion-like pattern, articulated so each segment flexed independently. It wasn’t stiff or blunt; it bent, curled, and pressed with precision. The ridges rippled in sequence, sending rolling waves of stimulation with every stroke.
Just beneath the surface lay a thin, membranous channel, supple and semi-transparent, where Lena could see subtle bulges as Kara’s biology moved into place.
Eggs.
Four organic sacs sat equidistant around the base, contracting in rhythm like a living engine, each one swelling in turn as it primed the next release. The sacs fed upward into the channel, pushing the eggs along the ridged shaft in obscene inevitability. At the tip, the membrane narrowed to a sensitive, nerve-rich point, trembling with anticipation as if it knew what came next.
It wasn’t grotesque. It was purposeful. Responsive. Every clench, every breath Lena gave made it hotter, firmer, more insistent. Kara didn’t just control it—it reacted to Lena specifically, warmed by her touch, flexing toward her like instinct. It was alien evolution turned erotic, a living instrument of shared pleasure.
Kara’s breathing was shaky, uneven, as she watched Lena’s fingers carefully, gently trace the rises and dips of each ridge.
Lena noted everything: the subtle texture under her fingertips, the light sheen of natural lubrication catching the low light, the deep violet-red colouration of the pulsing rod. Her brain—ever the scientist, ever the traitor—estimated length at seven inches, girth around three in diameter. Not monstrous, but above average. Functional. Perfect.
Her curiosity got the better of her. She pressed her fingertips against one of the sacs at the base, just to feel it. To know. It was like pinching a cheek—meaty but malleable, not too soft, not too firm. And beneath the surface, she could feel it: the swell of an egg shifting, the obscene little roll of pressure responding to her touch.
Kara gasped, chest heaving, her whole torso trembling with every ragged breath. The soft, strangled noises spilling from her throat only sharpened Lena’s hunger. She licked her lips as she wrapped her hand around the base, where each sac pressed against her palm when she stroked there, firm and hot, unmistakably alive.
Her panties were ruined.
She kissed Kara again, deep and greedy, dragging her closer with one hand on the nape of her neck while the other stroked along the shaft. Her grip squeezed and released as she slid up, down, up again, feeling the ridges flex beneath her palm.
“I want to taste you,” she murmured against Kara’s mouth. The sound Kara made in answer—half-whine, half-sob—almost undid her right there.
Lena shifted, pressing Kara down against the pillows, her own stomach sinking into the mattress. Without hesitation, without preamble, she wrapped her lips around the tip and sucked.
The taste hit her immediately—clean but musky, mineral-rich like the air after a storm. The surface was slick, yielding against her tongue, ridges firm but not unkind, each one catching against the sensitive buds of her taste like ridged velvet. Heat radiated from it, the same warmth as skin but alive in a different way, responsive, thrumming faintly with every beat of Kara’s heart.
Kara groaned, head dropping back against the bedframe, eyes rolling up like she couldn’t hold on.
Lena didn’t stop. With each pass, she took another inch, let another ridge drag across her tongue like a mile marker, savouring every bump, every pulse. Her hand stayed anchored at the base, steady, stroking. When she swallowed around the tip, she felt it—movement.
The sacs beneath her palm twitched, contracted, pushed. The membrane swelled as something surged forward, and Lena moaned around the mouthful as she felt it: an egg pressing along the channel, distending the ridges as it climbed toward the tip. She opened her eyes, lids fluttering, to watch it—bulges sliding forward like waves beneath the surface, overlaying fresh ridges at a right angle to the accordion pattern already stroking her tongue.
Kara was barely coherent, muttering words in a language Lena didn’t know—or couldn’t focus enough to decipher.
Her tongue slipped beneath the shaft, pressing against one of the sacs. It twitched violently against her, pushing an egg forward until she felt the obscene bulge swell across her tongue, mirrored by three more pressing hot and insistent at her lips. She moaned around it, head bobbing with a fervour that left her throat raw.
The eggs weren’t as big as the silicone ones her toy delivered—half the size, maybe twenty millimetres across if her mouth were a ruler—but the rhythm, the sheer number, would more than make up the difference.
But not here. Not now. She didn’t want them in her mouth. Not the first time. Maybe next time. Right now, she wanted this gorgeous, alien, impossible cock buried to the hilt in her cunt. She wanted to feel those sacs fire in sequence, wanted to be stretched until she shook, wanted Kara’s mouth on hers so she could swallow every broken moan.
She tore herself off with a wet gasp, slick stringing from her lips. Kara was wrecked—flushed red, pupils blown, glasses skewed, chest heaving like she might split apart. The sight made Lena groan, composure crumbling as she climbed up to straddle her hips.
She ground down, pressing the ridged shaft against her soaked slit, dragging her wetness along its length until her whole spine shuddered. The mattress sagged beneath them as Kara’s fingers punched through to the springs, stuffing bursting free.
Each ridge caught her clit, tapping back and forth, up and down, sending sparks through her nerves. Her pussy was slick and swollen, her nipples drawn tight, her throat still raw from the greedy way she’d taken Kara’s length into her mouth.
She rocked harder, tilting her hips so the ridges brushed her entrance. The wet lips of her cunt parted under the pressure, catching, dragging, teasing her with what waited. She moaned into Kara’s mouth as they kissed, sucking Kara’s tongue in like it might fill the ache between her legs.
Time bent—both a heartbeat and a lifetime of grinding, slick and breathless. Then she felt it: two of the sacs twitched, contracted, their channels swelling, pressing insistently against her. Her folds stretched around them, obscene and perfect, as if the biology itself were urging her open.
Kara’s moans turned frantic, breaking into gasps as Lena rolled her hips. Their rhythm grew primal, instinct overtaking sense. And then—Lena shifted, angled herself just right—
The tip caught against her entrance, not yet inside, just there. Stretching. Testing.
They both gasped at the contact.
The tip pressed, insistent now, smearing her slick. Lena shifted, braced her thighs tighter around Kara’s hips, and sank.
The first ridge breached her, blunt and thick, dragging her open. She cried out, nails digging crescent moons into Kara’s shoulders. Heat rolled through her as the ridges rippled in sequence, flexing like a wave inside her, stroking every nerve at once.
Kara’s own gasp broke sharp and helpless, hips jerking upward. “Lena—oh, Rao—” Her voice cracked into something more primal, language dissolving into noise.
Another ridge slid in, then another. Lena’s body stretched, walls clenching reflexively, but the articulation of the shaft bent and pressed in perfect rhythm with her. Every squeeze of her pussy made it answer, flexing deeper, stroking harder. She couldn’t tell where her moans ended and Kara’s began.
The sacs at the base contracted under her. She felt the obscene twitch, the swell of pressure, and knew what it meant. An egg began its climb, sliding into the channel. Her cunt fluttered around Kara like it could already feel the bulge coming.
“Oh god,” Lena gasped, throwing her head back. “I can feel it—”
Kara groaned, forehead pressed to Lena’s collarbone, her whole body shuddering as an egg travelled forward. Inside, the membranous channel distended, swelling wide. The pressure kissed against Lena’s walls, stretching her deeper, fuller, until she sobbed at the sheer fullness.
It wasn’t just penetration. It was being taken apart from the inside, ridge by ridge, pulse by pulse, until the inevitable bulge pressed closer to her cunt’s entrance—ready to breach, ready to pop.
The bulge pressed lower, relentless, filling her so deep she could barely think. Lena clutched at Kara, mouth open on ragged moans, every muscle trembling as the pressure built. She could feel them through the ridges, through the slick heat of Kara inside her—the eggs straining toward freedom.
Kara’s whole body shook beneath her. “It’s—oh, Rao, it’s coming—” Her voice was shattered, more whine than words, eyes glassy and unfocused as she fought not to buck too hard.
The membrane at the tip stretched taut inside Lena, tight as a fist. The pressure was unbearable, toe-curling, perfect. She cried out, head thrown back, when the first egg finally breached.
It popped free with a wet stretch and release, the sudden fullness a shock that ripped a sob from Lena’s throat. Her cunt spasmed around Kara in aftershocks, clenching and milking, desperate for more even as she shuddered from the sudden relief.
Kara screamed. Not a sound of pain—of overload. Every nerve in the ovi lit up as the egg passed, sensitive tip convulsing against Lena’s walls until she thought she might black out from sheer pleasure. She clutched Lena’s hips like a lifeline, back arching, chest heaving with broken sobs of ecstasy.
Lena rode it out, shaking, feeling the slick weight of the egg, heavy against her walls, every twitch of Kara’s ridges inside her making her shiver harder. She dragged Kara into a kiss, greedy and messy, swallowing the blonde’s whimpers like they were air.
Inside her, the sacs contracted again. Another egg surged into place, swelling the channel, pressing forward.
“Fuck,” Lena gasped against Kara’s mouth, voice wrecked and raw. “So fucking good.”
Kara hummed, ragged and high, as she wrapped her arms around Lena’s waist and rolled them, pressing Lena back into the sagging mattress. Her arms shook with effort, the ovi pulsing wildly as she pushed forward slow and deep. The sacs at the base throbbed again, already priming the next round.
Lena’s legs locked around her waist, hauling her closer. Her folds stretched wide as the ridges slid in, one after another, flexing like waves. And beneath them, she felt it—an egg bulging forward, obscene and unstoppable, pressing against her soaked cunt until she sobbed at the pressure.
The pressure built faster this time, urgent, merciless. Lena could feel the bulge climbing through the channel, dragging every ridge tight against her walls as it moved. Her body clutched at it instinctively, squeezing down like she could pull it deeper, hold it there.
Kara was gone. Her arms trembled where they braced on either side of Lena’s shoulders, tendons standing out in stark relief. Every contraction of the sacs sent her jolting, gasping, Kryptonian syllables spilling broken and frantic from her lips.
The egg pressed low, lower, until Lena could feel her pussy stretched to its limit around the swelling head. The ridges fluttered against her clit in time with Kara’s ragged thrusts, each pulse making her shake harder.
Then it breached.
The membrane stretched, the pressure peaked—then broke with a wet, obscene pop. The egg slid free, slick and heavy, leaving Lena crying out as her cunt spasmed around the fullness. Pleasure spiked sharp and bright, her body clenching down so hard she saw stars.
Kara screamed. Her hips jerked wildly, the ovi convulsing as every nerve lit up in overstimulation. She collapsed forward, forehead pressed to Lena’s breast, whimpering against her skin as the aftershocks tore through her.
Lena clawed at her back, desperate, shaking, wrecked. She kissed Kara’s temple, her cheek, her jaw, groaning into her ear, “Yes, Kar, yes—again—don’t stop—” even as her own body fluttered and clenched around the ridges like she was trying to wring another egg free herself.
And inside her fluttering pussy, she felt it: the sacs twitching, swelling, priming the next.
Kara barely gave her time to breathe before she moved, rolling them hard and hauling Lena onto her hands and knees. The mattress shrieked under the motion, frame rattling against the wall.
“Face down,” Kara panted, voice wrecked, “I need—”
Lena was already moving, collapsing forward, cheek pressed into the pillow. Her arse arched high, slick thighs trembling as she felt Kara’s hands clamp tight around her hips. Kryptonian strength pressed crescents of bruises into her skin as Kara dragged her back, impaling her in one sharp stroke.
The ovi slammed deep, ridges battering every tender inch inside her. Lena screamed into the pillow, voice muffled but raw, fingers clawing uselessly at the sheets as Kara set a brutal rhythm. Each thrust drove her forward an inch, the bedframe squealing, the whole mattress bouncing under them like it might collapse.
Kara’s grip was merciless, dragging her back every time Lena tried to crawl away from the overwhelming stretch. The ridges rippled in waves inside her, clit catching on each pass, until she was sobbing into the pillow, shaking apart.
And then she felt it—the sacs pulsing again, contracting hard. The bulge surged into the channel, grinding along her walls.
“Oh god, oh god, fuck, Kara—” Lena’s words broke into animal sounds as her body stretched, split wide around the moving swell. The egg pressed deep, pressing her open in ways her toys had only ever hinted at.
Kara groaned behind her, hips jerking, voice shattering in Kryptonian as she lost control. Her thrusts turned sloppy, erratic, each one punctuated by the obscene wet slap of Lena’s body taking her.
The egg breached with another wet pop, slick sliding free between Lena’s thighs. Her whole body seized, cunt spasming violently around the ridges, milking Kara in desperate aftershocks. The pillow caught her scream, muffled but furious, as her vision went white.
Kara dragged her back against her hips, burying her to the hilt, forehead pressed to the slope of Lena’s back as she sobbed through the overstimulation. Her fingers dug in harder, anchoring them together—while at the base, the sacs pulsed and twitched against Lena’s soaked slit, contracting in rhythm. She could feel each one swell against her swollen lips, obscene pressure from outside and in, priming the next egg.
They collapsed in a heap, slick and trembling, Kara still buried deep inside her. Lena lay sprawled on her stomach, cheek pressed into the damp pillow, her body buzzing with aftershocks. She could still feel them inside her, heavy and obscene.
“They…” she gasped, voice ragged, “…they’ve got to come out.”
Kara froze, eyes wide, then eased out of her inch by inch. Lena whimpered at the stretch, at the ridges dragging her raw walls as she slowly rolled onto her back. When the tip slipped free, Kara’s breath caught—the bulge of the eggs was visible, pressing at Lena’s swollen cunt, demanding release.
Kara’s hands were steady, reverent, sliding down Lena’s thighs as she moved between them. Her voice was low, coaxing: “Let go, Lena. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”
The first push was instinctual, Lena’s body bearing down. She groaned, fists twisting in the sheets as the pressure swelled. Kara lowered her mouth, lips ghosting over Lena’s clit—then she blurred.
Super-speed.
The sensation was impossible—a vibration so fast, so precise, it felt like electricity wired straight into her clit. The sound was a soft hum in the air, the smell of ozone sparking, and Lena screamed into the air as the first egg breached.
It popped free with a wet stretch, sliding slick between her thighs, and her whole body convulsed. Her orgasm hit like a seizure, every nerve firing at once, as Kara’s blur-sharp tongue never let up on her clit.
Another push, another egg. The pressure, the stretch, the unbearable relief as it slid out—each one paired with a climax that left Lena shaking harder, sobbing into the sheets. Kara moaned against her with every release, like she could feel it too, like Lena’s body tearing apart under pleasure was enough to ruin her.
Egg after egg spilled free, Lena undone by the rhythm of push-pop-vibrate. Her thighs quaked uncontrollably, pussy fluttering and clenching on nothing, until the last one slid out with a wet gasp of sound.
She collapsed onto her back, ruined, her body jerking with aftershocks as Kara gentled the vibrations, easing her down, pressing soft kisses to her trembling skin.
When Lena finally found her voice, it was wrecked and hoarse. “Holy fuck.”
Kara slumped back against the headboard, chest heaving, ridges still flexing along her cock like they had a mind of their own. Lena, shaking and slick, crawled into her lap with a ruined laugh.
“You’re not done,” she rasped, voice hoarse from screaming. “I can feel it.”
Kara opened her mouth to deny it, but her ovi twitched, sacs swelling against Lena’s arse. Her only answer was a helpless groan.
Lena grinned like a predator and turned, facing away as she sank down, impaling herself slowly. Kara’s head thudded back against the wall, a strangled cry tearing from her throat as Lena rolled her hips, dragging every ridge against her swollen walls. From this angle, every movement ground her clit raw, every bounce catching hard enough to make her see stars.
“Fuck—Kara—look at me,” Lena gasped, leaning back against her chest, baring her throat. “Watch me take it.”
Kara’s hands clamped to her waist, fingers bruising. For a moment, she let Lena ride, the obscene wet slap of her cunt filling the room as she bounced on the ridges. Kara’s breath came in broken bursts, eyes glazed, voice lost in Kryptonian pleas.
Then instinct took her.
With a guttural noise, Kara surged upright, hauling Lena with her. Her hands locked under Lena’s thighs, lifting her effortlessly into the air. Lena shrieked as she was fucked mid-air, gravity and Kryptonian strength conspiring to drive Kara’s cock deeper than before.
Eggs shifted inside, sacs pulsing against Lena’s swollen lips with every brutal slam. She was screaming again, body jolting helplessly as Kara used her like a doll, fucking her down onto the ridges until her pussy gave way to the bulging pressure of another egg.
It breached with a wet pop, and Kara pulled out for just a moment, watching the egg slide free to the floor with a lewd splatter. She shuddered before slamming back into Lena’s gaping cunt with a guttural moan.
Lena wailed, whole body convulsing as Kara drove through the overstimulation, rutting her harder, faster, until the next egg forced its way down. Kara’s grip was iron, holding her impaled, eyes rolling back as she sobbed against Lena’s shoulder blade, completely lost.
Egg after egg spilled out, each one paired with another orgasm that broke Lena down further, left her limp in Kara’s arms, shaking, ruined.
When the last slipped free, Kara staggered, collapsing back onto the broken mattress with Lena still in her lap. They clung to each other, slick and trembling, laughing breathlessly through tears.
Lena moved, gingerly removing Kara’s length from within her and shifted to drape across Kara’s chest. Her lips brushed Kara’s ear, her voice wrecked and sweet. “Next time,” she whispered, “I’m measuring it.”
Kara groaned into her shoulder, already hard again at the thought, even as exhaustion dragged them both under.