Apricot’s gargantuan, bloated body had essentially become a massive sexual theme park for both her and Spencer’s pleasure. Of course, conventional genital to genital love making was off the menu, for obvious reasons. This had saddened them both at first, but over time Spencer had discovered a cornucopia of new ways to make love to her, and she eagerly encouraged him to do so as often as possible.
Her massive, sensitive clitoris was a knob of throbbing pink flesh as long and thick as Spencer’s thigh, and he could hug it to his chest as his manhood slid into the cleavage of the rear most pair of udders that hung off of her bovine body. Apricot especially enjoyed it when he would ease his masculine rod deep inside the central orifice of any of her six primary teats, thus using her spectacularly engorged nipple as a cream smeared sleeve for his pleasure. They had discovered this new form of sexual union when she had commented one day on how her nipples were starting to look as puffy and welcoming as her lips. As it turned out, they were like her lips in more ways than one. Of course there was also straightforward cleavage intercourse (with milk as the lubricant of choice) and exquisite fellatio with her fat bimbofied pillow lips to engulf him in wetness. Not that she had been bimbofied mentally. She was as sharp as ever, it was just expressing her intelligence was more difficult, with her hooved hands hindering writing, and her overly lush lips giving her an adorable but rather hard to decipher lisp.
But recently, after she had plaintively recalled the days when her feminine heart had once been tight enough to sheath his manly sword, Spencer decided to engage in a form of love making that was truly extreme.
When he was willing to exert the effort he would mount her rear udders and slowly lower himself in to the cavernous expanse that was her vagina. It gaped enough to totally swallow him up to his neck, and easily stretched to accommodate whatever position he wanted- if he curled him into a ball, it could swallow him whole. Apricot particularly enjoyed it when he wiggled about and ran his hands down her vaginal walls, like a human vibrator. He could always tell she was getting excited when the viscous plasma coating her internal flesh began to thicken and pour over him like molasses. With greater difficulty, he could stretch her cervix enough to let him inside on the rare occasions that she wasn’t pregnant. But when she was pregnant he could easily look inside to see the multitude of embryonic sacs with their slowly growing young steadily swelling her womb to new proportions.
If however she wasn’t pregnant, he would stretch her cervix open enough to slide in to the pool of womanly juice which filled her uterus, and would feel around until he found the opening to one of her fallopian tubes. Amazingly, the opening of each tube had grown into a vagina like organ in itself, soft and welcoming with a little nerve bundle at the tip, just like her clitoris used to be. It was as if her body wanted him to delve this far inside- everything about her had grown tremendously in scale to let it happen. From within her uterus, immersed in her girlish goo, he’d eagerly penetrate her newly vaginalised tubes directly, ensuring that a hot load of sperm would be gushed right up in to her ovaries. Apricot loved this kind of love making the most, and begged for it constantly.
Original Artwork by Spurcell
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