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That night, even with the soreness, the mock shaft fit into me easily. I jammed it in and out of me, twisting and turning it, trying to simulate the throbbing of his shaft. It was no use. I longed for his hands on my breasts, my hands on his buttocks, our pelts interweaved. I craved him within me.
I got up and went to his hut. Through the darkness, I saw him lying on his back in his bed, sleeping fitfully. His head swung back and forth and he whispered in whimpers aod moans. His shaft stood rigid, thrusting straight up from his pelt, and his hips twitched in his sleep.
I knelt at the side of the bed, bent my head over the shaft and surrounded it with my lips. He groaned as I pressed my tongue tight to the underside and began sucking. He pushed himself up and down and my head bobbed with his rhythm. His moaning became more distinct and I felt his hands on my head stroking my hair.
While I held him in my mouth, sucking and licking him, I slid up onto the bed and straddled his legs. I rubbed my hands up along his stomach and buried them in the fur on his chest. His moans became cries and it wasn't long before the shaft began its pulsing and pumping. He gushed a lot more of the thick, salty fluid than he did that afternoon. Much of it ran down my chin and spilled out into his pelt.
As soon as I'd sucked him dry, I released him from my lips and I slithered up the length of his body. flattening the slick shaft between us as I pressed my body to his. It slipped tightly between my breasts and pressed into my stomach before nestling in my pelt. I lifed my hips and the shaft rose up and slid snugly between the folds of my moist cleft. I drove myself down and cried out as it gouged itself tightly into my contracting channel. I pounded my hips down to him, meeting each of his piercing thrusts amd the shaft stabbed again and again into my clenching canal, sending the fire in waves searing through me.
As he did that afternoon, his thrusts became more savage and insistent and then the shaft throbbed and spasmed inside me. The blazing heat in me flashed and exploded and I felt my fluids flow from me and drain out into our meshed pelts. I collapsed onto his heaving chest, my insides spasming on his twitching shaft.
He rolled us over, still coupled, so he was above me, and began stroking slowly in and out. As his rhythm increased, the fire rekindled and flared until I wrapped my legs around his back and was fully consumed by the passion. He bore down, pounding himself into me over and over, and again I felt the shaft beating and pumping inside me as I shook and spasmed underneath him.
He pulled his still-rigid shaft out of me then and I felt my fluids streaming out of me. He quickly flipped me over onto my stomach, grabbed my hips and pulled me up so I was kneeling on edge of the bed while he stood behind me on the floor. I screamed as he suddenly rammed himself deeply into me from behind.
His fingers dug deeply into my thighs as he rapidly jerked me back and forth, stabbing himself into me again and again. The shaft practically pulled out totally, then jabbed in so fully and deeply with such a force and speed that it felt like he was filling me with lightning, and I shook over and over in seizures of bliss that roared through me.
I lifted myself up onto my hands and shoved myself back into him. I felt his bulb sack swunging up to beat against my pelt in time with the swinging of my breasts. He reached down and crushed my breasts into his hands, his fingers squeezing and pinching my nipples.
His thrusts began to slow but became much more violent and he grunted loudly with each brutal attack. Finally he bellowed over and over and his hammering shaft once again throbbed and spasmed inside me. In my excitment, I imagined feeling thick jets of his seed pumping out of him and into me, racing up through the passage and taking root in my breeding pocket. I imagined that it was his seed filling me to overflowing and running down my thighs. The fire swept through me and I shuddered in rapture.
He fell onto the bed, exhausted, but I seized his shrinking shaft, stuffed it back into me. I ground my hips, milking and squeezing it until it swelled and firmed within me. Soon we were again pounding at each other and the euphoric spasms engulfed me over and over.
We spent that entire night with his shaft inside me. In the morning, I left and went to the river to wash the sticky remains of our passion from my body and to soothe the soreness that was beginning to burn between my legs.
I sat in the water and separated the folds of my furrow to let the coolness wash into me. As filmy streaks of white began to float atop the surface of the water, I again wondered about the way his shaft throbbed inside me. It pulsed and spasmed at least five times that night, and once I even thought I felt the gushing heat of his seed filling me. I decided that it was silly to worry about it now. Probably he was right and it wasn't mature enough to root.
Then again, neither of us had considered that maybe my breeding pocket couldnt't absorb seed out of season. It that was the case, it would just pour harmlessly out of me. That began to make a lot of sense to me. There was sure a lot of liquid pouring out from between my legs last night, too much to be just from me. Since it was coming out, it must not be staying in. A wave of relief swept over me. It was quickly replaced by an intense hunger to have him back inside me.
I went home, slept most of the day, and that night I returned to him. This time he was awake, lying on his back on his bed, his shaft standing firm and ready. He obviously knew I'd be there. I know he was expecting me to kneel down and put him into my mouth, but instead I lay down next to him, drew my legs apart and pulled him onto me.
He didn't stop to think. He immediately thrust himself into me and we both cried out at his penetration. After only a few strokes, his shaft began its twitching and I felt it jerk mightily as gush after gush of his seed charged into me. The force of the spasms shocked me and I was immediately ravaged as the flames of my passion rose up within me, sending wave after wave searing through me.
The shaft continued to jerk and pound, surging his release deep into me. The thick syrup welled within me to overflowing and I felt it squirting out of me, spattering onto my legs and my buttocks and my stomach. Still he throbbed, pumping great spurts of his essence down my convulsing, milking passage.
The shaft finally stopped beating, but he remained rigid inside me. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me, still impaled on his spiking member. He stood and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he jerked me up and down, jabbing himself into me again and again. My own weight drove him deeper and deeper into me and I screamed as the blaze of rapture enveloped me.
Soon I felt him tightening and I knew he'd be exploding inside me again. He dropped me onto his table so I was lying with my bottom at the edge and he could pound into me while he was standing next to it. He grabbed my ankles, pulled my legs wide apart and stabbed into me so deeply that I was sure he'd penetrated into my breeding pocket. Then he again began to jerk inside me and, roaring, he drove his inseminating fluid into my craving cavity.
All that night we pounded at each other as he pumped his seed into my screaming, convlusing body from above, from below, from behind. For almost two weeks his shaft discharged into me five or six times a night. Every now and then, I'd start to worry that his seed had rooted inside me and I was carrying a child, but most of the time I knew there was no way that he could plant a baby inside me. Neither he nor I could breed out of season, so we were safe. If it wasn't, well, I guess that increased the excitement.
Then it was time for the flow. The night before my pocket was supposed to evacuate, I told him I had to go to the river with the rest. He frowned and told me he'd miss me, but I said it would only be a couple of days.
The next day came and went, but my evacuation didn't begin like it was supposed to. I started to worry, but it really wasn't too strange to be a day out of agreement. When the evening of the second day came and I hadn't begun yet, I decided to go down to the river anyway, figuring it had to start after I got there.
But it didn't. I tried to hide that I wasn't evacuating by staying by myself in the water most of the time. It pretty much worked, too, except a couple of people made comments about how light my flow was that month. I just sort of nodded.
I tried to listen to some of the conversations around me, trying to keep my mind off of what I knew was growing inside me, but I kept thinking about it. What kind of spawn would I breed having been seeded out of season? Would it be sickly? Would it kill me in childbirth? Would it die unripe inside me?
After a couple of days and everybody else had finished, I left the river, relieved that my secret hadn't been discovered.
Instead of going home, I went straight away to tell him that his seed and my pocket were quite fertile out of season and that he'd planted a child inside me. When I got to his hut, tho, he wasn't there, so I waited, sitting on his bed.
I looked down at the bed I was sitting on, the dirty, straw-covered spot where the baby inside me had been conceived, and then I thought about the brightly colored pillows that adorned the beds during the seeding ceremony. My eyes filled with tears and I fell across the bed sobbing. All the fears of the past few days washed over me and I cried myself to sleep.
I dreamed of him, of his hands on my breasts, on my buttocks, of his shaft spiking into me, flooding me with torrents of seed. I dreamed I felt the seed course through me and burrow into the walls of my breeding pocket. I felt it grow, filling my pocket, pushing out, arching my stomach. I felt it swell and ripen and slide out of me. I lifted the baby and took it to my breast. As it suckled, he again thrust himself into me and I felt him plant another child inside me. It too grew and swelled and slid from me. I placed it at my other breast.
I held a child in either arm, their lips sucking on my nipples and again he thrust himself into me. He drove into me and I ached to have him plant another baby inside me. I screamed and begged and pleaded for him to fill me with his seed, to make babies inside me.
The fire flashed through me and I shuddered with the euphoria of the fullness inside me and the mouths at my breasts. I felt surrounded by heat. There were hands on my buttocks, on my hips, on my breasts, storking and squeezing at me. The mouths left my breasts and suddenly I was rolling about so I was lying on his stomach with him thrusting up into me.
The hands on my bottom pried my buttocks apart and I suddenly felt a pressure against the opening there. At the same time the hands on my breasts moved up to my head and pulled my mouth open. His shaft forced itself into my throat at the same time his shaft wedged into my bottom, all while his shaft oddly sliced in and out of my mound.
I was awake. In the darkness there were at least three breeders, maybe more. As the shaft tore into my bottom, I tried to scream, but it was strangled as the shaft filling my mouth slipped deeper down my throat. The shaft in my mound began to throb and gush as it stabbed up at me and soon it started toshrink. The hands above on my hips pulled me up and the body below me slipped out from under, only to be replaced by another breeder who jabbed himself up into my mound and hammered his hips at me.
Both the other shafts started pulsing simultaneously and I was filled top and bottom, sending me over the edge again. They pulled out, then two others took their places. Over and over I was pierced and mauled. I lost count how many different shafts swelled and emptied into me, but I knew none of them belonged to the breeder whose bed I was on.
When the spurting of the last one finally ebbed, they all disappeared, leaving me dripping and shuddering in a pool of sweat and seed. I dragged my brused and aching body home and I slept a dreamless sleep.
I never again saw the breeder whose baby I carried. I don't know what happened to him. Maybe one of the other breeders found out what'd I'd done and he was punished. Their ways are so strange.
I missed him so. I'd grown to crave the feeling of the shaft inside me, and I tried many times to get another breeder to seed me, but no one would even allow me to speak to them. Waiting for the day of the ceremony was torture.
After the ceremony, after I realized I wouldn't again feel that fullness within until long after I'd delivered, I sought out the breeder who was chosen as my seeding partner, and he relented. For a few weeks, the memory of his body upon mine kept me satisfied, but the cravings came back and I again coerced him to put his seed into me. I tried to stay away, but I always came back until we were together almost every night.
If anyone was aware of my night travels, no one ever mentioned it. Maybe they all ignored it. They couldn't ignore the fact that of everyone who'd been seeded in the spring, I delivered first. The first fruit is always named the Gifted, but everyone assumed it would be Rosemary, and I guess having it be me got some people suspicious.
Marnie made the accusation that I'd been seeded early, and then it got real nasty, especially after it turned out that the breeder who planted the baby inside me had been seeding Marnie while she was carrying his baby last year. She was real upset about his punishment.
A lot of the breeders went away after that, including the one I'd been seeing. Since my baby was to be a breeder, he went away, too. I'll be in agreement again after my next flow, so I'll participate in the next seeding. Waiting is painful, but it won't be too long.