Balros Balros LEAPS from VR and into text, to be with you, to have you, to be us together Sigil collides in close. Four hands over the straining leather of your pouch. Eyes lidded from a stressful week, relieved to be in your company. Her kisses are supple and numerous, devouring your scent as she rains adoration along your neck and chest, her own spilling gravidly form her overburdened jumpsuit to weigh heavy, warm and inviting upon your fur. "-There- you are." She sighs, dreamily, falling into your company, and putting down her roots. <3 Balros His squirrelsqueal is quite vocal, high-pitched but blended with a buttery moan as four heavenlyhuge paws push and knead over his heavily straining thong. Snugglepressing back against you, his bulge tightening in growth of his sheath, shaft, and sac. His arms pull you tightly to him as you grow too, a hug as pleasurable as sex itself. "Been too long, let's make up for lost time." He groans into your ear, pulling your squirrelmaw into a kiss that fumigates your lips and lungs with his breath. Sigil grows, especially in the paws, creaking bigger in fits and starts as her flesh remembers how malleable it is in your company, tightness giving way to spillage of shimmering squirrelfur and flesh. Massive pad-tipped handpaws stroke wider and wider over the increasing expanse of your thong. Her eyes locked to yours, she smiles. Two paws mash at your shoulders, and she nods. "I agree. There's so much to catch up on - - " and, mmph, her plum-full lips dash against your own, tongue rushing to meet your own as her lower set unclip your straining thong, and freely stuff a handpaw bigger than her own head down into your steaming sheath, all silky touch overstuffing you as she strokes and teases you somewhere deep within. Trading breath and moans between our mouths, her voice joins your own as she struggles to keep as -much- of herself in contact with you, rubbing, grinding, savoring every drop of your company after such a long drought. Balros He groans into your lips as that grows shoves against him, more of squirrel and more of you pumping in vigorous surges of increased size, sensitivity, and fecund need. Handpaws double in size before anything else does, footpaws tripling that shortly after, each toe as big as a mailbox. His gaze is fluttering but intense, tongue lapping and locking around with yours but oft escaping to wash over teeth, gum and sucking throat. Rolling his hips, he thrust-gyrates out of the thong and into your paws, girthy pink cock pumping stiffly as that huge furred paw plunges down deep inside his sheath. More cock -violently- erupts further from his sheath as you squeeze over the supposed root, the rest of his cock growing rapidly to fit the size of each new yard. With his own paws, he grabs your huge hips and ass, heaving your body briefly up off the floor to plant your bottom firmly on his dick, straddling it like a horse. Pushing longer and larger between your thighs as he holds you close; his thickening girth matching the rate of expansion of your breeder's hips and gargantuanizing buttcheeks. Sigil pulls back after what feels like a weeks worth of frantic, eager kissing, her lips fuller and stung reddish by the flow of blood to them. She rides the jockeying and repositioning, only happy to be an object of your intense desire and treated just like one. By the time she's hotdogging her thickening thighs around the pulsing throb of your emergent squirrelbreeder, her cooze has throbbed itself to a messy, eager bulbousness that slides wetly along your flesh, -splitting- like a hungry maw around the curvature of your girth as she slides her wide bottom up and down behind her, huge hands grabbing at you, using your sheathspill as one would a strippers pole while tugging free of the splitting remains of her jumpsuit, soon spilling freely and fully into nakedness with you. plants massive footpaws down to either side, her juddering massive dick getting swallowed up by the dominating swell of the cunt developing between her creaking, widening hips, pulling into a hood at its end to throb and pulse in its new role as her gushing button. Balros Shucking his green vest, the two like-colored squirrels collide and visually blend in an orgy of musk-soaked fur. With two fingers each as thick as a soda bottle, he plunges them into the expanding dark tailstar beneath her tail, then slowly spreads and stretches each digit further apart until her butthole bloats into two distinct tunnels. The mitosis doesn't stop there, a seam splitting down her enormous pussy, the lips spilling open further as her cunt becomes two cooches spilling on either side of his shaft. The transformation spreading further down, to his immense shaft now, a seam forming in the middle of his monsterous cock and dividing both up and down until his cock -pops- into two, even larger erections. He should have needed to walk backwards at least ten feet if he wanted to have a chance at penetrating her, but a simple pull-back of his hips and a /lot/ of spinebending aligns his shafts with both her pussies... and both her tailstars, as his members divide again and grow larger stiffly. Pushing, pushing, /shoving/ himself into four of her tunnels, cockheads bulging out her belly, both breasts, and her throat. Sigil moans intensely, eager prey to the machinations our lusts play upon our bodies. She lids her eyes, but they never close, not even when she feels one of your hard-throbbing shafts shove up her throat. How she loves to play with it, tonguing and teasing your sensative tip while her body works all of you in concert, every inch of her flesh engineering itself for the mutated breeding that demonstrates our love. How she stares adoringly at you as she sucks your tip off from the other side, shuddreous swallowing grip-milking your cock into giving up a cheek-bulging load of precum that she finally lets release in a burst of fluid down her lip, chin and to spatter over her chest as her head tilts back and she allows you to emerge, and swell, throb by throb out from between her wide-spreading jaws, the heady scent of your arousal rising just -under- her nose driving her into a squirming, wanton bouncing. Her breasts and stuffed, round belly bounce in time, stiff and dominated in their passage by the curving of your penetrations, each gaping eager hole thickening into unmistakable plush, luxurious sleeves of flesh that -never- want to return to their previous forms, building up into more and more substantial overabundance as they tease you inch by inch, foot by new foot. She gulps around you, two, three massive squirreltails rising above those massively overswollen asscheeks of her. Huge paws straddle and secure you, and her own position, and soon she is -MATING- those four cocks with every ounce of energy she has, lush heady scent rising as her breeding instincts blossom as fully as her heavily mutating body. The way she grips those beanbag chair-huge nuts of yours, she -NEEDS- that battering so badly. Balros Stuffing, fucking, breeding, being and growing inside his squirrel-lover is all he lusts for, feels and thinks about. His orgasms are intense and potently pumped by four pairs of fat balls that spill and knock about his knees and calves. The mutations continue through his first climax - your neck and throat stretching longer as his cock crawls further up your gullet. His sperm floods your tits and tummy, much of it converted into more flesh and fur, more squirrel - while that which washes out your womb becomes more squirrel just outright. The press of wide, round squirrelbelly against his entire frontside only coaxes him to grow and cum MORE, facilitating the emergence of new tails and much more. The rock and ram of hips produces shockwaves of flesh on impact, the force of his fucking very often making your massive footpaws leave the ground - only to land with MUCH more weight and impact than before. His comparitavely smaller stature should dictate you lift him off the floor instead, but his density has dramatically increased, pulling your meters-wide ass up and down with his grip. Sigil 's giraffe-like neck ripples and undulates, helping you spittle up geysers of prespunk and spunk alike all over herself in a show of utter, unrestrained depravity. Every forceful pistoning of her fertility-goddess body sends more churning, thick seed up your shafts with her bodies powerful inner-mliking, happily twisting herself wider and fuller - cumflation blooming before your eyes into a straining, bellybutton-popping wombspace that -fills- nearly the entirety of your view with litter after litter, pushing her heaving, milk-gushing breasts uipwards as she greedily fucksleeves herself into body straining pregnancies, her kitsune-like collection of tails fanning out behind her as she takes on her new role, begging for your roiling, mounting climaxes with every floor-crushing slam of her bigger and bigger footpaws around you. That's it, she's your fucksleeve lover, to tease and breed and sully whole universes together until there's only US and our progeny. And as she clamp-climaxes all around you, somehow she moans her name around your fountaining girth, eager and sure for the day her scent and yours have mixed so thoroughly all will know we come together as a unit. ~ ~ ~ <3