UniformVixen
_sprawls out on the soaked towel, the heaving rise and fall of her chest rolling her heavy breasts. She lets her legs part so the heavy swell of her newly-stuffed belly allows gravity to do its thing, admiring the feel of her swimmer-stuffed gravidness pulling at her laden body in new ways. She runs fingertips through Balros' chest fur, catching her breath, slowly leaking with excess cum, thickly dolloping out of her like pancake batter. She can see only silhouette in the late night view, save for occasional flashes from the thunderstorm rolling in across the bay, and tangles with as we rest after what seems like days, weeks, centuries of mating, right there on the gently lapping beach. ~ :pink_heart:_

Balros
His love for her. His lust for her. Her existince pulls him out of his stupor and fog, weariness and languor. His green eyes lay upon her body and his heart swells - and his loins. The swell of her breasts encourage the swell of his shaft, spilling from thick sheath with every rise and fall of her perfect, massive bosom. The curve of her belly encouraging the curve of his balls as they swell, swell, churn and swell with need for her shape and size and weight and warmth. A moan spills past his chittering bucktooth'd lips as her thick fingers part and press his russet fur, and he leans in - curling arms into her bodice, pressing belly to belly, smearing his seed-soaked shaft against her sheath so when her motherly meat emerges it is already glossy and slick to slide up into the mounds of his asscheeks. A squirrel loving his wife so much that he knows to let her unload her needs even after eons of having been filled up with his.

UniformVixen
catches glints of green in those occasional flashes, knowing where to look by experience and the soft, warm feel of her mate's breath. Her body responds, perfectly, naturally, just the way it needs to, bulging strain of a shaft shaped as though it were straining its boundries, a midlength bulge of solid, feminine shaftmeat to spread you wide, and let you ease over and onto. Her hands grip  you tight, the descent of her love onto her lap eliciting a chirrup of pleasure as we so directly copulate once more. The bassy roll of thunder in the backdrop accompanies her grip, the roll of her hips, the push of her seed-swollen belly upwards as she eases you into a rocking, wordlessly mating with you as your fuck-drenched shaft, sheath and balls work and grind against your impregnated wifes silken-furred belly. Just her sighs, the sound of the surf, the storm, warm pawpads helping leverage your thighs as we join once more. ~ ~ ~

Balros
His moan catches in his throat as she enters him; spreading his cheeks as large as her own ass despite the difference in height. The warmth of his depths snugly clenching around her girth and coaxing her in; lowering himself closer to her lap, feeling more of her penis grow to push up into him. He leans into her large paws, relaxing more of his grip on himself and the struggle of holding himself aloft; trusting in her strength as she bulges his belly and begins to throb inside of him. Tilting his head back to groanmurmur through the tumble of thunder as she rolls her hips to thrust into him and in the same motion billow her belly against his body and his own returned-to-strength boner. He falls forward, arms encapsulating the outer edges of her enormous breasts, hugging into them and burying his face to her cleavage with his nose against her throat. His own hips not idle as she rams them - twitching and juddering as he thrust-frots against her fat middle full of life. She can feel him getting worked up all over again, riding her pillar pistoning powerfully into his heated deep-cheeked depths, his weighty balls bumping her belly and bulging with refueling seed, the swishing of her silky fur against his shaft coaxing out the fattest veins and the hardest throbs. The sound of sand mounds being pushed as her paws and toes plump larger; her hips and ass spreading wider and bigger; his cum inside of her making his wife more than a mate and a mother and into someone mildly macro.

UniformVixen
flexes her feet into the cool beach sand, body twisting, shimmying to adjust as the scale of the world around her, and her love, shifts ever so subtly, and then not so subtly. It's easier to hold you. To keep you lined up. Her breathy voice coming slightly deeper, more fuller, but still that silky siren voice that's had you drop from your sheath a hundred times with the right sigh or tease. It just -resonates- through you now, from somewhere over the horizon of those heavy blimp-like udders, pushed upwards and aloft by her cumchurning wombspace, ever so glad to feel you -throb- and -twitch- whenever she -Drives- just right into you, dragging her bulging tip  along your most sensative inner spots, well practiced motions made so much more drastic by the upscaling of your beachbound fertility-goddess mate, the one whose own nuts are soon clenching up under her hard driving shaft, joining your moans in chorus as she rides the crescendo of a gushing, productive pistoning that doesn't quite -climax-, but builds, seeping, then flooding, in a loosening, escalating torrent of warmth inside you that only excaberates theinner pressure, bulging your midesection, bringing the throb of her heartbeat close to your own from within. How she loves you so,  enormous paws outsized even for her increased scale wrapping aound your shoulder and back one, waist, thigh and bottom the other, nipple-lips soon shifting in to greet the bucking, renewed throb of your erection in greedy, loving kisses, capturing you anew into her warmth, if only to kiss around the base of your sheath, and tongue tormentingly along your undersides somewhere deep within her breast.  Yours. Hers. Ours.