I've spent my life studying the art of the marathon. There are tricks to the trade, ways to keep your dick from betraying you before the director yells cut.
Usually, I'd rub one out an hour before a shoot to take the edge off. That was off the table, I didn't exactly have a "pre-gaming" window between getting crushed by a building and meeting a Goddess.
Then there's the chemical route. A little Dapoxetine or a stiff drink to numb the nerves. But surprisingly enough, there wasn't a pharmacy or a liquor store in the infinite white void between life and death.
My reliable fallback was the mental game, focusing on something boring, like tax returns or the shitty suspension on my old car, while some starlet was grinding against me. But that was impossible here. You can't think about taxes when you're staring at a smoking-hot Goddess with a primordial pussy and tits that defy the laws of physics.
Fuck, this is bad. Really fucking bad, I thought.
Her tongue was exploring my mouth with a hunger that was draining my resolve, and her hand was back on my cock, stroking me with a divine rhythm that was bringing me to the absolute brink. At this rate, I was going to paint her hand and lose my soul before I even got a chance to sink inside.
I yanked my head back, breaking the kiss. I was breathing like I'd just run a 5k.
Eretria blinked, her silver eyes shimmering with genuine surprise. She wasn't used to men pulling away.
"I think it's time I showed you exactly why you and your sisters were so fascinated by my talent," I rasped.
I knew the secret to survival here: Control. If I let her dictate the pace, she'd milk me dry in seconds. If I took the reins, I could play the "pull-out" game, hit the limit, retreat, reset, and go again. It was the only way to build the stamina I needed to make a deity scream.
A glow flickered in her eyes, a mix of amusement and raw challenge. She didn't say a word, she just lay back on the white floor, her liquid white hair fanning out like a halo. She gripped her own thighs and pulled them back, spreading her legs wide and exposing that glistening, divine heat to the light.
"Come on then, Thomas," she purred, her voice echoing in the silence. "Amuse me, human."
I moved between those long, glowing thighs, my hand giving my cock one last, steadying stroke.
Eretria didn't look away. Her silver eyes were locked on mine, heavy with a mix of hunger and "show me what you've got" skepticism. I didn't blink. In my line of work, the second you show weakness, the scene is dead. Goddess or not, I wasn't about to let her see me sweat.
I leaned over her, the heat from her body hitting me like an open oven.
I teased the entrance, rubbing the head of my cock against her slick, lips, before tapping her twice, a little signature move to let her know exactly where I was.
Then, I pushed.
Her lips parted, and a soft, jagged moan broke the silence. I couldn't help it, a soft groan tore out of my own throat.
Jesus Christ.
She was tight. Not just "haven't done this in a while" tight, but "impossible" tight. It felt like I was trying to slide into a warm, wet velvet vice that was custom-molded to every ridge of my dick.
Is she a virgin? The thought flashed through my head for a split second before I dismissed it. A Primordial Goddess of Lust? No fucking way. It had to be some divine "System" bullshit, part of the perks of being a deity.
"Fuck," Eretria gasped, her fingers digging into the white floor as her back arched. "You're so....big, Thomas."
"And you're so fucking tight," I rasped, my vision blurring for a second from the sheer intensity of the friction.
"A Goddess's body is eternal," she whispered, her voice trembling as I buried myself to the hilt. "No matter how many times I am taken, I return to my virgin state. I remain untouched for all eternity... just for moments like this."
"Oh," I groaned. It wasn't a word but a physical reaction to her walls clamping down on me, rhythmically pulsing against my cock as I began the first, slow, agonizingly good thrust.
It was like being reborn and executed at the same time. If I didn't keep my head, I was going to lose this contract in the first thirty seconds.
I buried myself in that divine heat, then pulled back until I was barely hanging on at the entrance, before sliding home again. I reached up and anchored myself, my hands disappearing into the soft, heavy weight of those basketball tits. I needed the leverage; it felt like I was wading through warm honey.
"Ah… ah… ah," Eretria let out a soft, rhythmic moan that vibrated right through my chest.
Good, I thought, grit in my teeth. At least she's feeling the weight of it. At least she knows a pro is at work.
The plan was simple: keep the pace glacial. Don't let the friction take over. Just give it to her nice and slow, maintain the rhythm, and keep my head in the game. If I could just stay in this gear for ten minutes, I'd have her begging.
Then, she changed the rules.
Suddenly, her walls clamped me. It was a rhythmic, pulsing suction that felt like a thousand tiny fingers trying to milk me dry. A naughty smile spread across her face, her silver eyes glowing with a wicked light.
"Come for me, Thomas," she whispered, her voice a silk-wrapped command that echoed in the void. "Cum for me. Fill me until you're empty. I want to feel your heat spill over my thighs."
I took another thrust, and the sensation was so intense. I could feel the pressure building at the base of my spine, that familiar, dangerous heat starting to surge toward the point of no return.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is bad. I gotta pull out. Now!
But my body wasn't listening to me anymore. The goddess part of her was overriding my brain. Instead of sliding out to reset, I felt my hips snap forward. The friction was too goddamn good. I found myself slamming into her, the speed of my thrusts doubling, then tripling.
I wasn't in control. My animal instincts had taken the wheel, and I was driving us both straight toward the cliff.
This was a total setup. Pussy voodoo at best.
That was the only explanation. I've been in the game long enough to know my own rhythm, but Eretria was pulling my strings like a goddamn puppet. My hips were firing like a jackhammer, and I couldn't find the brake pedal.
"Yes, baby... give it to me," she whispered, her voice vibrating inside my skull. "I want every last drop. Fill me up until you're empty, Thomas. I want your milk painting my walls."
The friction turned into a goddamn wildfire.
One. Two. Three. By the sixth thrust, my vision was swimming in white spots. The pressure at the base of my spine hit the breaking point, and I couldn't hold the dam back anymore. My back arched, my teeth gritted so hard I thought they'd shatter, and I felt the first hot, thick thread of cum bolt out of me.
"Aaah, fuck! No! No, no, no!" I roared, the sound bouncing off the infinite white walls.
I was powerless. I felt every bit of my stamina, my life force, and my pride drain out of me in one long, pathetic sequence. The last drop left me with a twitch, leaving me hollowed out and gasping for air against her heavy, unmoving breasts.
Eretria wasn't even breathing hard. She was just smiling. That sharp, predatory curve of the lips that told me I'd been played from the start.
"Well, well, Thomas," she purred, her silver eyes glowing with a cold, mocking light. "Looks like the 'elite talent' wasn't so elite after all. You lose."
"No... wait," I wheezed, my heart hammering a funeral march against my ribs. "Give me... another go. I can....."
"It's time to go, Thomas," she interrupted, her voice suddenly devoid of all warmth. "You failed the contract. You didn't even make me break a sweat, let alone satisfy me. A deal's a deal."
I tried to reach for her, to grab those massive tits one last time or beg for a second take, but she just raised a hand.
"Bye-bye, little human."
She snapped her fingers. The sound was like a gunshot in the silence.
The white light shattered. Everything, the Goddess, the tits, the infinite floor, collapsed into a void of nothingness.