Mafuyu grabbed Makoto's softening cock. Her hands, usually so gentle when cooking or cleaning, were firm and demanding now. She massaged his cock, her touch slick with his and Ayane's fluids.
Then she lowered her head and sandwiched him between her large, soft breasts. The warm, pillowy flesh encasing his length, while her tongue worked his tip with rhythmic devotion.
"Oh god... Mafuyu..." Makoto gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming: the softness of her breasts, the heat of her mouth, the desperate, loving way she was nursing him back to life.
"Get harder, now," she commanded, squeezing her breasts tighter around him. "Come back to me, little Makoto. I need you."
Within minutes, he was rock hard again from Mafuyu's persistence. She pulled back, licking her lips, a string of saliva connecting her to him. Mafuyu's gaze moved to her ally. "Mika-chan," She called out, pulling back just enough to speak, her eyes glazed with lust. "Please... help me hold his hands down. I don't want him to struggle."
Mika approached with a helpful smile. "Of course, Mafuyu-san. We should not let our... prey run away." She pinned Makoto's wrists to the futon, her grip iron-tight, effectively rendering him helpless.
Mafuyu straddled Makoto's hips. She loomed over him, her silhouette soft and curvy in the afternoon light. She looked like a goddess of fertility. The tip of his cock was gently placed against her entrance.
Then she sank down slowly, agonizingly, taking every inch. "Oh..." Mafuyu gasped, her head thrown back, her hands resting on his chest. "So full, honey..." She took him all the way to the hilt, her hips settling against his with a wet, heavy slap.
She began to ride him, her rhythm slow and heavy, grinding her womb against the head of his cock. "I want a boy, honey," she whispered, her eyes locking onto his, full of tears and passion. "... a mini-Makoto, as handsome and kind as his father, but strong enough to protect us all."
She leaned down, her hair curtaining them off from the rest of the room. "So... please, cum a lot, give me a son." She rode him harder, her wide hips slapping against his with a wet, heavy sound. Her movement was relentless, like a woman possessed by the need to create.
"Mafuyu... you're squeezing my cock... so hard. Slow down..." Makoto groaned, his mind melting under the sensory assault. Mafuyu's internal muscles clamped down on him in waves, milking him with rhythmic precision.
"I know," she panted. "But I'm not letting go. Not a single drop." She picked up the pace, her heavy breasts bouncing, her face flushed with exertion and joy. "I think... I need three loads. One isn't enough. We have to make sure it works."
"Three?! I will die if I cum that much!!" Makoto yelped, his hands bucking helplessly against Mika's restraint.
Mafuyu cried out, clamping down on him. "Hmm, then you have to fill me up at least twice, Makoto! Make sure it sticks!" She didn't slow down. Instead, she ground down on him, milking his prostate with her internal muscles, slamming her hips down harder. "Give me my son, Makoto! Give him to me!"
Makoto exploded, a massive wave of seed flooding her. It was a long, draining release that seemed to pull from his very soul. Mafuyu screamed, her back arching, her body shuddering as she took everything he had.
But Mafuyu didn't stop. She turned over and shook her hips, riding him in reverse cowgirl position. Her thick ass jiggled when her cunt went up and down onto his cock. She kept grinding, kept milking him through the aftershocks, refusing to let him go soft. "More, darling. I need it again, please, for our family."
The sight of Mafuyu's ass in front of him was too much. She kept riding and grinding, forcing him through the refractory period. She didn't even stop to rest, not until she wrung Makoto out like a wet towel, until he was heaving with pleasure, shooting ghost loads into her womb.
"Yes... yes... give it all to me..." she sobbed, collapsing on top of him. "Thank you, thank you, my love."
She stayed there, heavy and warm, until her breathing slowed. Then she rolled off, curling into a ball beside him with a satisfied smile on her face.
Mika released Makoto's wrists, kissing each one gently. "Good job, darling," she whispered. "You have... half an hour to rest before the next round."
===
Hours later, Makoto slowly opened his eyes. He realized he had lost count of how many times he had climaxed.
Finally, he had a chance look around. Their room was now a chaotic disaster. The massive futon had become a battlefield of pleasure, stained with a dozen different fluids. Tattered pieces of costumes were strewn about like fallen banners: a butterfly haori here, a pink and green kimono there, a sundress crumpled in the corner.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and the faint, sweet scent of spilled ramune from hours ago. Makoto's harem was now a broken, sated wreck, and so was he. Their costumes were sticky and tattered, smudged with cum, tears, and other fluids.
Even the mysterious drug he purchased from the dark web couldn't help him recover now. "Phew, my balls are totally drained," he sighed contentedly. "That shit worked wonders, though!" He thought and nodded as he watched a ridiculous amount of cum dripping out of the girls' cunts.
Yuna was plastered to his side with her head on his chest, one leg thrown possessively over his. She was fast asleep, her breathing soft and even against his skin. But even in sleep, her grip on his arm was unyielding.
On his other side, Ayane was sprawled on her back with one arm thrown over her head with a blissful, dreamy smile on her face. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't asleep. She was replaying every moment, dreaming of a future that suddenly felt terrifyingly real.
"A little pervert girl..." Ayane whispered to the ceiling, her voice a happy rasp. "We'll call her Asuka."
Mika sat up against the wall. She had managed to pull her yukata closed, a futile gesture of order amid utter chaos. She was using a wet wipe from her purse to clean a sticky patch off her knee, her expression a mask of unnerving calm.
She glanced at the cum dripping from Yuna's and Ayane's cunts, then at her own. "I wasn't joking earlier, you know!" She looked into his eyes and announced, "Based on my period tracking app, Yuna and I are ovulating this week, darling."
And Mafuyu, the sweet, overwhelmed Mafuyu, was curled up at the foot of the futon, fast asleep. Her face was buried in a pillow, her body now a small, vulnerable ball. She looked peaceful with her hand on her belly, as if the breeding ritual had finally exorcised the last of her demons.
Makoto looked at them: the possessive stepsister, the calculating yandere, the dreamy classmate, and the sleeping angel.
His balls were empty, and his body ached everywhere. But he had never been happier.