Nathan bit his lower lip.
It hurt.
But also… something strange.
His shaft twitched every time Velmora tightened her coils, then loosened them again—like a snake sucking in air and exhaling it back through the only hole left in sanity.
"Agh... V-Velmora..." Nathan gasped, voice trembling.
But Velmora didn't respond. Her eyes half-lidded. Her face serene—like a nun who'd just discovered holy scripture at the bottom of a steaming spring.
Her body moved.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Up.
Down.
It wasn't thrusting. Not wild riding.
It was spiral drilling—rotating downwards in a slow, relentless rhythm.
Every loop of her tail applied pressure from the base to the tip, like a living corkscrew made of heat and muscle.
"Aghh—" Nathan winced, face flushed red. If only it were a bit slicker… this wouldn't hurt as much... he thought, half-mad.
But he didn't dare tell her to stop.
Because between those pulses of pain—there was something else.
