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"Any questions?"

"Umm..." I looked up from the odd crisscross craziness that made up this weird place. It was like someone took a bunch of those funky outsider light tube things, lit them up, and made a grid across the everything of everything, but also nothing, because I keep trying to get at them, but they keep not being gotten at! "...Can you repeat that?"

Sighing for the third time, the great voice asked, "Sister, may I kill her?"

"No." Ohh, a new voice!

The other voice took on a begging boom. "Please?" At least she's polite! Sis always said that politeness was important, so maybe I should let her? Ohh, wait, but then I can't do this job I apparently have!

Decisions, decisions...

"You know as well as I why we cannot. Now, answer her questions, sister."

Sighing for the fourth time now, the voice said, "There are some things you must keep in mind, such as-"

"No, no, before that!" I wasn't really listening, so it'd be nice to start from the top!

Sighing for the fifth time, I could tell that her head was throbbing, as I sensed those cute little nerves doing their thing. "Welcome to the Realm of Dreams, young satori. We have need of your aid for some reason-"

"You never said that the first or the second time!" I put on a pout, as she's making stuff up! That's not very nice!

"-for you possess in you a power rare among not only your kind, but all kinds." Jeez, it's rude to talk over me!

"Take deep breaths, sister." Ohh, it's the nicer one again! Hi, nice one! Ohh, wait, I should use my mouth to talk, right?

The sound of the booming voice taking deep, crinkly breaths from a paper bag filled the air. Thankfully the crinkles were less noisy than her, as that'd be annoying. Like, wow would it be disruptive!

While she did that, I cheerfully greeted, "Hi, nice one!"

"...Hello.
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[X] Turn her into a duck the first time she makes an echo! Perfect nightmare and still counts!
[X] Well, if there's one thing you know about her kind of music, it's that liberal amounts of sex are involved! Bring on the groupies!
[X] Duck groupies!
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But first, a short intermission. Expect it in a little bit, assuming nothing comes up.
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[2.1] Write-in! Because, seriously, sometimes the voices have good ideas!
-[2.1] Make her hum a fugue of which you've heard the music's din 'afore
--[2.1] And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore!
---[2.1] And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore!
----[2.1] AND WHISTLE ALL THE AIRS FROM THAT INFERNAL NONSENSE PINA-PINAFOOOOOOOOOORE.
[2.1] The best thing it's unsure if it's a nightmare or a dream for her. Sooooo it can be whatever!
-[2.1] We are the BEST voices right?
--[2.1] Obviously.



I started blinking in confusion as a sing-song voice began to sing like sing-song voices do, though this one was weirdly fast in its doing so. Weird scratchy noises dragged across the inside of my skull as I heard an older man belt out enough words to give me a headache.

Makeherhumafugueofwhichyou'veheardthemusic'sdin'afore! Hrm... Din 'afore, din 'afore... Got it! AndwhistlealltheairsfromthatinfernalnonsensePinafore!

Before I could even try to figure out what I had just heard, a group of women took over, though I could barely hear it over the sound of a crazy amount of xylophone drumming against the inside of my skull.

AndwhistlealltheairsfromthatinfernalnonsensePinafore!
AndwhistlealltheairsfromthatinfernalnonsensePinafore!
ANDWHISTLEALLTHEAIRSFROMTHATINFERNALNONSENSEPINA-PINAFOOOOOOOOOORE


I wrenched my ear, ripping flesh in an effort to find the off switch.

It actually worked, so I left my poor ear sideways.

Maybe I'm the one having a dream, and I'm just gonna wake up like nothing happened? ...Wait, is this a nightmare, then? I mean, I think I was crying during that first dream.

Clearly I need to make this dream a happy one, meaning sex, and lots of it!

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“The difference between sex and love is
that sex relieves tension and love causes it.”

— Woody Allen


This contains heavy spoilers for the obvious.
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[x] Asked him to bend her over and take her from behind.

Been waitin a long time for Spiderbutt.
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(X) Asked him to bend her over and take her from behind.

—And determined herself even more selfish than the evening had proven by now.

Not that much so as to proceed with her scheme right away; she would, generously, give Naoto a few more well-lubed strokes. She would tow her waist back – extracting his long tool to the point where her lips were smooching the tip; then, she would push onto him again – causing the shaft to disappear inside her plush hole. Naoto’s cock would give a contented throb each time it bottomed out and felt her tender lips squeeze lovingly around its root. A few more trips up and down between her sticky walls, and the crude thing would start squirting its delicious seed into Yamame’s deepest place. The place where it was meant to go. The place that was – but wasn’t – her stomach. Where babies were conceived. Her womb.

But Yamame was not about to let that happen. Not yet.

And so, at the apex of the next stroke, she missed the proper stop, and let Naoto’s cock spring out of her smooth, drooling pussy. Her human hissed a breathless curse into her breasts, scrambling to shove his twitching manhood back where it belonged. The spinstress weaved, spider-slick, out the way of his clawing hands, skidding off the side of his lap to land on the couch beside him.

Ahead Naoto might swear twice, the eldest, most dignified of the Underworld’s earth spiders shinnied up the couch on her elbows and knees, her butt stuck out high in the air. Her copious breasts hung below her, stretching to an almost reverse-teardrop shape, which left her nipples to brush on the wraps strewn about the daybed. She grasped for the pillow propped on the far armrest.

A prowling hand raced out beside her. It grabbed at one of her arms and jerked it back.

Unsupported, the top half of Yamame flumped down onto the pads of the couch: face, breasts and all. When she dug her nose out and cast back over a shoulder, Naoto was there, kneeling at her exposed rear: red, puffing, and dragging her slimy panties down her thighs.

Yamame’s fangs gnashed together. A flurry of base, animal excitement stiffened her back
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Afterwards, as they lay in a bodily heap, Yamame would feel vaguely unfulfilled. Oh, the finish had been great, that it had; and there were few perversions which the eldest of the earth spiders had taken to more satisfying than coming – and being come inside – while held down. The mathematics of it, however, had left her imbalanced. The five days of not seeing nor touching her lover felt hardly fair an equation to one (fantastic though it had been) bout of sex.

How had she ever held out six months?

Yamame Kurodani, purring, swelled up beneath her human. Naoto sensed the motion. He levered himself up to a half-rise on his arms. An effect of this disturbance, his limp, spent manhood flopped out to rest between the earth spider’s thighs. A trickle of warm, milky seed followed its example. It leaked out, clinging to Yamame’s loose lower lips.

This used to be such a fear, Yamame marvelled. Once they’d first had sex, after two whole days of tiptoeing, Naoto had spun a barring web around what he’d uninventively termed “finishing inside.” That web had lasted no longer than their second night of exploring which bits of their bodies could fit into other bits to feel really good. Though, he would re-thread that same promise at the end of each such “finish;” still, the allure of letting Yamame take the fruit of his orgasms had simply been too… well, alluring to properly resist, even then.

But, once the godling accident had happened… once Yamame had reunited with her human lacking for a baby-filled belly… That fear, too, had been dissolved like bare foundations in the rain. These days, the returns of Yamame’s work on her human belonged to one of three places. Yamame’s mouth, Yamame’s womb, or – on those clumsier occasions – her face. None of that, “I’ll pull out and come on your legs” business. Her legs had better things to do. Locking about his waist, for one.

A part of Yamame, in truth, envied Lady Satori and her plain enjoyment of motherhood. That part of her was silly. It was ignorant of the reality that Satori Komeiji was rare
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"Ah, Reimu, thank goodness you're here."

The blue-white is here, I thought. The other shrine maiden. Her name is Sanae. Sanae Kochiya. Disciple of the Moriya Shrine.

"I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my tea time, Sanae," I responded to her. She wore this humbled smile that always ticked me off as she came in. I couldn't stand it.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I know it's a bother, but I just wanted your input on a few things, really." She had been relying on me a bit recently.

"A few things, is this going to turn into a dozen before long, as it usually does?" By bit though, I mean a lot.

"N-No! Not at all! Well, I hope, I mean, it's hard to tell with Lady Kanako at times..." She always acts like this is her first time dealing with gods, even though she is veritably one herself. It ticks me off.

"That's what you say every time I say something like that, Sanae. Don't you have any shame?"

"Sh-Shame!? What does shame have to do about any of this!?" She always acts as if we're not competing for faith. She's so confident and certain about herself and her shrine's deities. That ticks me off too.

"If you don't get it, then don't worry about it, just get on with it..." The way she looked at me was filled with trepidation. Nonetheless, she sat down beside me at the table. She always does. She never misses a beat when it comes to annoying the living hell out of me.

"Well, you see, Lady Kanako has been talking about... well, me, recently." She's always relying on me, for issues from her job, to more personal ones. It's like I'm her only real friend here in Gensokyo. Jeez, I can't stand that.

"You, huh? Is she worried about you or something?" I asked with a tired breath as I took another sip of my tea. It was still hot, and reminded me that there were better things to life than being this kid's nanny.

"I suppose. She seems to think I should be doing something with my life. She keeps reminding me that while I'm a deity here, I'm st
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The Moon is eternal.

When Lord Tsukuyomi first trod this pure earth, aeons ago, He set out to create a haven everlasting. Attended by divine spirits, His will impervious, His people under His wing, our Lord raised from the fragile sands of the Moon’s deserts a kingdom to linger in perpetuity. I was there. Shapeless then – my form and Fate yet undefined. My shames not yet past. But I was there; and I drank of Lord Tsukuyomi’s words as he spoke a new era into being.

It gladdens me to remember this. It helps me to maintain my pace as I walk. It lets me cope with the fact.

The fact that I, Kishin Sagume, am currently wearing no panties.

As I near my destination, deeper in the casern of the Lunar Palace, I begin to pass by rabbits rushing to their morning chores. The females, plump and bright, curtsy at my approach; the males, stern and red-eyed, nod their heads in obeisance. None stop for long. The slave race may possess senses keen beyond our formal recognition, but they daren’t question a Lunar lord – even in their own domicile. I acknowledge, with a nod and a smile, a cluster of rabbits who had visibly slept ill the previous night. They blush when I do so. Yet I see their crumpled ears perk up a little as I stride past. This will tide them over the day. For reasons unfathomable to me, the rabbits seem to value my attention over that of other masters.

Some, perhaps, value it a touch too high. Or would that be too low? I am unsure still when I reach my goal.

One billet among a hundred. No plaque, no individual marks. It shames me to know exactly where I am anyway.

I do not knock. Knocking is for the help. The door slides aside as surely as it would have if I had. It does its own knocking when I shove it closed behind me. The noise of activity outside softens to a murmur. I blink my eyes, adjusting to the dim lighting in the room. The billet is narrow. Narrower than some rabbits would call narrow otherwise. It is enough, just hardly, to fit a strip of floor, a low eating table, a single cot made to fold up into the wall, and a writing desk tucked under the window, opposite the door.

Those, as well as a lone figure slouched in a chair
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[x] A peevish youkai waitress serves a very late night shift (with no supervision)

>>39510

An odd stylistic choice to be sure, but in OP's defense he did deliver exactly what the vote option said. His vote promised throat-deep sex with her mouth. Which is to say; it only has to reach the throat, not pass it. He never said anything about deep-throat sex. the difference is subtle, but relevant.

That being said, I too wish he proceeded with the deep-throat scene.
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(x) A spider teaches a younger sister how to play with a male (with a male’s assistance)

Oh ho Netorase

Honestly can't find fault with that goom lyoods.
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Teaching is so fucking hot.
[X] A spider teaches a younger sister how to play with a male (with a male’s assistance)

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Anyone got something? Post here
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Are we to assume you're looking for pictures of martial arts to beat it to? Or is there something else you would prefer?
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Danbooru and Sadpanda are right there, dude, c’mon.

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It was hard for Kosuzu Motoori to discern when exactly she fell in love with the carpenter’s son.
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She wondered whether her relationship with the carpenter would stand the test of time. She had kissed him and held his hands enough times that it had become routine. He’d kiss her on the cheek hello, and she’d kiss him on the lips farewell. The butterflies in her stomach must have migrated elsewhere. Was that okay? She let that question simmer in her mind until she closed up shop and led the carpenter to her room. As they sat down, she realized that the answer was obvious—why else would she spend evening after evening in silence together with him?

He rarely bothered her while she was reading, and even when he did, she didn’t mind. Because it was him. Anyone else, and she would have shushed them until she was satisfied. As much as she loved books, she loved the time she spent with him more.

Will I think the same a year from now? Or two? Or ten? The rest of our lives?

She wanted certainty that her answer would remain yes, so, as if to confirm, during their reading time, she casually interrupted by curling up on his lap and kissing him on the cheek. He seemed to find it increasingly difficult to focus on his book, finally reaching around her shoulders to recover his pressed flower bookmark on the table and setting the book aside, bookmark in place.

It still doesn’t suit him, she thought. It was reluctantly his—Kosuzu had gone to her garden on a whim one day, and pressed the flowers onto the bookmark herself. Still, the fact that he kept that on his person made her want to kiss him more.

So she did. It was the kind of kiss where she could barely reach him—Kosuzu had to wrap her arms around his neck, hoist herself up, and crane her neck to brush her lips against his. The carpenter’s chair, however, did not appreciate her efforts and toppled over, taking its two humans with it. After the clatter, Kosuzu found herself straddling the carpenter. Her cheeks burned a modest red, though she took the opportunity to lean down and kiss him again—an honest one, this time.

Their eyes wandered not to each other but to the closet where the futon was stored. There was a brief moment of mutual unde
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Well done, Mueller. This isn't really porn, since there's nothing particularly lurid about it, and that's perfectly fine. No, in fact, it's perfectly fitting. This is a short and sweet depiction of a calm, mature relationship between adults with just the addition of a brief moment of excitement. It would take a lengthy essay to unpack all the truisms, so I'll just say job well done. Warms me cockles, it does.

Now get back to the awoo mines.
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Wholesome erotica is my kink. Wonderful, Romal, simply wonderful.

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