女海賊と女海軍のえっちな白兵戦の続きの話し-EN #1

The sun slowly emerged from the horizon. Through the window's crack, its strong sunlight barely filtered in, faintly brightening the room. The day had begun. Jenna glanced at Hobita sleeping beside her. Of course, Hobita had just woken up too. Together, they stretched their backs with a big “Ugh!” and stood up energetically. First things first—securing today's provisions. With that thought, they left their home together. To an outsider, they might have looked like a family. But considering their true identities and past, this was a surprising sight indeed. Jenna was a female pirate, and Hobita was a female naval officer. Pirates and the navy were sharply opposed, each fighting for the order of the seas, their own interests, and their respective freedoms. In fact, the ship these two had been aboard had fought fiercely two years prior, and both had been shipwrecked, washing ashore on this island. On this originally uninhabited island, the pirate and the naval officer still tried to fight, but reason applied the brakes, suggesting they might not survive without cooperating. Both sides still believed they were superior, so they put ropes around each other's necks and tied the ropes together to prevent escape. In hindsight, one might wonder how they could possibly escape from this isolated, small, uninhabited island. But immediately after washing ashore, they were too excited to even consider such a thing. At first, the female pirates and naval officers refused to let go of the ropes, glaring at each other and keeping watch. But as weeks and months passed, they could no longer maintain that level of tension. Among the two hundred women—a hundred pairs of pirates and sailors—who had tied ropes around each other's necks, some began to develop relationships that, if not exactly friendly, were at least “not hostile.” Jenna and Hobita were one of the pairs who started talking relatively early. Given her naturally cheerful disposition, she simply couldn't maintain sharp hostility toward someone she was constantly with. Jenna: “...First, let's make sure we can shelter from the rain and wind.” Hobita: “Yeah... that's right.” The two, working together with other female pirates and naval officers, built the first structure on the island. They constructed a roof and divided the space underneath with partitions to create a modicum of privacy. It was the first sign of civilization in a long time, and cheers erupted from both pirates and naval officers alike. That night, moans began to echo from behind each partition. Women who had previously only been able to engage in unsettled acts behind rocks, in grassy patches, or on their stranded mother ship were now aroused by the long-awaited opportunity for sex under a roof. Voices heard through the thin walls only accelerated the actions of other women. In that moment, the female pirates and sailors, paired together, seemed to compete with the next pair over who was having the most pleasurable experience. They were utterly far removed from their original purpose. Indeed, by the next morning, many pairs were holding their heads in their hands, wondering why they'd done such things. But the women's excitement that night was uncontrollable. Perhaps the environment—having a roof, having privacy—held that much value. Jenna and Hobita hadn't intended it at first, but drawn in by the echoes of moans coming from both sides, they found themselves softly kneading each other's breasts. Jenna: “Everyone... is amazing...” Hobita: “Yeah... it's... incredible.” Overwhelmed and losing their words, Jenna and Hobita explored each other with tender caresses. They scooped up her breasts, pinched the peaks between index and middle fingers, and twisted them slightly. Jenna & Hobita: “Huu, mmm...!” A restrained, nasal moan. Yet, it was a voice far more arousing than any other woman's moan. They pressed their thighs together, which had been rubbing awkwardly moments before, then entwined their healthy, well-muscled legs. Exposed to the sea breeze and built for survival, the muscles felt slightly firm to the touch. Feeling that firmness—no, that supple firmness—in each other, their hands began to peel away their clothes. Given the practical scarcity of clothing, they quickly stripped each other naked before staining their garments. Of course, that was an excuse. But it was still a time when such excuses were necessary. Seeing each other completely naked, collars around their necks, at such close range, and embracing, an indescribable, thrilling sensation of pleasure shot up their spines. After the group battle between the female pirates and the female navy, both sides regarded each other as the defeated, as possessions, as sex slaves. Entwining their bodies should have been routine by now, yet the different environment still accelerated their excitement. When Jenna's fingers touched Hobita's crotch, the wetness felt distinctly different from usual. Jenna: “What's this? Were you waiting for my fingers?” The words carried a hint of teasing, yet the tone was entirely different. To Hobita, it sounded more like a plea, a desire for her to admit it. Hobita didn't respond to Jenna's words. Instead, she answered by pressing her own fingers against Jenna's crotch. Hobita: “Weren't you the one expecting my fingers?” It felt like a renewed declaration of mutual consent to “do it.” Jenna's fingers slid into Hobita's slick, slippery labia, and Hobita's fingers slid into Jenna's slick, slippery labia. Jenna & Hobita: “Unhh...!!” The fingers inserted into their thoroughly prepared labia knew exactly where to dig for treasure after a year of practice. Yet they deliberately teased, savoring the moment by deliberately avoiding the “vital spot” in their stimulation. Stimulation given by stroking with the pads of their fingers, lightly scratching with their fingertips. It was intense and precise precisely because they had come to know each other's bodies so well over time. No direct stimulation of the G-spot, yet Jenna and Hobita were so developed that the mere expectation of it threatened to send them over the edge. But if the recipients were this developed, the skill of the giver was equally remarkable. Sensing they were close to climax, the fingers stopped moving abruptly. Jenna: “Th-this...!!” Hobita: “K-kuu...!!” They exchanged frustrated glances. Of course, this was a clear signal that progress wouldn't come easily. Yet, both women were equally tested, and they grew irritable, unable to focus on themselves. If they begged, they would likely be brought to climax immediately. But such an act... the very act of begging... was impossible. As a female naval officer, she couldn't yield to a female pirate. As a female pirate, she couldn't yield to a female naval officer. Even if they put on such a tough front, the lips left hanging weren't that patient. They writhed shamelessly, craving the next touch, and their hips moved as if pressing their lips against the other's fingers, their hands, driven by the ache. Their bodies squirmed and shifted as if beyond their own control. Knowing this only fueled the frustration etched on both their faces. Jenna: “Come on, beg for it.” Hobita: “You want my fingers, don't you?” This mutual provocation only made them more irritable. It had been about a year since they'd first joined bodies. With little else to do, they'd devoured and violated each other's bodies with considerable frequency. So, they knew this opponent would yield soon. Countless times before, we'd fought to a draw, a stalemate, a mutual defeat. Today, I will win. Then, within this space bounded by roof and walls, dominance will be decided. Once established, that dominance surely won't be easily overturned. I will win. Win. Win!! Jenna Hobita: “Hmph, ugh...!!” Both of them were trying to make the other beg, fueled only by sheer determination. But the heat within their own bodies had also swelled to considerable intensity. If their bodies calmed just a little, their vaginas would be stroked slightly, kept exquisitely on the brink of climax. Their mouths opened slightly, the word “please” nearly escaping, but they desperately closed their lips. They gritted their teeth, resisting the pleasure, holding back the plea. But it was impossible now. The limit. Jenna and Hobita pressed their lips together tightly, as if they had something to say, then, as if resolved, they pressed against each other and parted their lips. Tongues thrust inside, becoming a deep kiss. In a state where no words could be formed, Jenna and Hobita's fingers rubbed each other's G-spots fiercely. Jenna Hobita: "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Jenna Hobita: “Puhah!! ... Haa, haa haa...” After their bodies convulsed sufficiently and they savored their climaxes, they finally released their lips. They lay side by side on their backs, gazing up at the ceiling. Jenna: “Another draw...” Hobita: “Well, whatever... Next time, I'll fuck you to pieces.” Jenna: “Say that again.” They must have been still high from the moment. Exchanging words in a lighter tone than usual, they slept under the roof together for the first time in a long while. For about a year after that, they entwined their bodies countless times, achieving just as many simultaneous climaxes and draws. No matter how much they fucked each other, they simply couldn't settle the score. As they continued this, their bodies grew to find even greater excitement in the very act of climaxing simultaneously. Only with this partner, and no other, could they taste the ultimate climax... It could be called a twisted fetish. Or, if it confirmed their mutual affection, it could be called pure love. But considering they continued to violate each other while remaining adversaries, excited by the very fact of never achieving victory or defeat, it was probably more accurate to call it twisted. Yet, on this island where all ninety-nine women besides Jenna and Hobita had developed the exact same sexual inclination, they could never have been aware of its abnormality. Several buildings had been constructed on this island. Naturally, with structures for two hundred people, they were scattered here and there. Erin and Elba's house was one built relatively close to the forest. Emerging from it, the two headed into the woods to gather a bit more food than usual for their companions. On this truly tropical island, food was never a problem. They gathered abundant nuts and fruits. Since they would eat them immediately, they picked only the fully ripe ones. Carefully avoiding the unripe ones, they finished that day's harvest and were just about to head home. Erin: “I think I'm a little thirsty.” Elba: “Yeah. A little, huh...” A slightly meaningful look appeared on both their faces. It had become a kind of secret code, understood only between these two. Erin and Elba set aside their respective harvests and began to undress. What appeared were their large breasts, thrusting out prominently. Those large breasts, which had been K-cup even during their conflict two years prior, had now grown to roughly L-cup. To be honest, their nutritional balance should have been worse than on land, yet whether due to their constitution or not, Erin and Elba's breasts had grown healthily. And the growth of those breasts wasn't limited to size alone. A faint, sweet scent of breast milk wafted through the air. When Erin and Elba pressed the peaks of their breasts together, a white liquid began to seep out slowly. Even though neither was pregnant, they had started producing milk. Supporting the heavy, weighty breasts of their partner from below, scooping them up, the nipples came right up to their faces. Taking the other's left nipple into her mouth, pressing it softly with her lips, and sucking, the milk flowed vigorously into her mouth. Elba's milk flowing into Erin's mouth, Erin's milk flowing into Elba's mouth. That milk had a unique sweetness that felt like it was scorching their brains. They wanted to drink more, to keep drinking forever. Their milk had become something almost addictive to each other. Erin: “Elba is my sex slave. You're my personal milk server, so give me more... Mmmmm!!” Elba: “Erin is my sex slave. You're my personal milk server, so give me more... Mmmmm!!” The female pirate and female naval officer, each asserting dominance over the other's body, commanded each other. Even while drinking milk from the left nipple, she didn't forget to knead and stimulate the right one. Taking the thoroughly worked right nipple into her mouth, she began drinking breast milk again. Their respective breast milk swirled around, as if circulating through each other's bodies. Erin's thirst was quenched by Elba's milk, and Elba's thirst was quenched by Erin. But even after drinking their fill, there was no stopping these two now that the fire had been lit. Pulling away from each other's nipples, they lay down on the ground, intertwining their bodies so their faces buried in each other's cleavage. The so-called titty 69 position. First, they filled their lungs with the erotic, rich scent of each other's bodies trapped in their cleavage. Erin Elba: “Huu... mmm...” Their bodies shuddered. Their brains seared by each other's scent, they once again took each other's nipples into their mouths. This position allowed them to take both of the other's nipples into their mouths simultaneously. It was their favorite position because it meant they could drink twice the amount and give each other twice the pleasure. Erin: “Huu, mmm... mmmh!” Elba: “Mmm, mmmh...”