The orgasm of galaxies had not ended.
It could not end.
Kaito's seed had already spilled across the fabric of the cosmos, but now it moved on its own—living, glowing, writhing rivers of cum that curled into constellations, dripped into black holes, and milked new suns into existence.
Yet even in this infinity, a deeper hunger called.
Something pulsing beyond the edge of all worlds.
A womb older than creation, locked behind a gate of silence and shadow.
The ancients had whispered of it.
The Womb Beyond Creation.
No god had ever entered it.
No man had ever dared.
It was said that to touch its lips was to drown forever in heat.
And now, with his cock still wet from galaxies, Kaito stood before it.
The gate appeared not as stone, nor as light
but as a pair of colossal, spread labia stretched across the void.
They were blacker than night, yet glistened with eternal wetness.
Each drip of nectar fell as an entire universe, birthing stars before it dissolved.
