Detroit in late afternoon always had a strange glow. Orange sunlight bouncing off glass towers, fading into the deeper shadows carved between aging brick buildings. Alex felt it on his skin as he walked, grocery bags loaded up to his chest.
He almost never did things like this anymore. His life had become a rotating kaleidoscope of unbelievable sex with divinity, assassins, mutants, and plain hotties. They drifted into his orbit like he was the center of some cosmic magnet. But of course, he didn't only want to have sex. He wanted a life and sex. Big difference there, he was still up for clapping cheeks for three days, only so that for the next three days he could play video games. Natasha usually handled the financial side of things from shopping to acquiring entire apartment complexes. Especially that last bit.
Today, Alex wanted to feel normal. A hoodie, sweatpants, sneakers. Carrying groceries like a regular twenty-something guy.
There was fried food from a nearby street vendor and the crisp edge of an incoming cold night. His building that Natasha diligently bought under his name was just three blocks away.
Alex adjusted the bags in his arms. He was almost there.
He cut through the narrow alley between two buildings, the shortcut he'd taken a hundred times. That was when he heard it. The scrape of shoes. A hushed curse. A metallic click.
Alex slowed, eyes darting upward. 'Dammit.'
Two men stepped out from behind an overflowing dumpster, both scruffy, jittery, and wild-eyed. Streetlights flickered behind them, painting their shadows long and predatory across the alley walls. The shadows of robbers. Of thieves.
Seriously. Dammit.
"Yo," the first robber said, flipping a knife in his hand. "Wallet. Phone. Now."
Alex exhaled. "Seriously?"
The second robber snorted. "You heard him. Drop the bags, kid."
The problem wasn't that Alex was weak. He wasn't. But he also wasn't trained, wasn't a fighter, and wasn't about to risk bleeding out in a Detroit alley. His groceries toppled from his arms as he lifted his hands slowly, heart thudding hard enough to echo in his ears.
"Guys, listen," Alex began, "I don't want trouble. Just take what you—"
A cold blade pressed against his hoodie.
"Shut up," the knife-holder snapped. "Don't try anything cute."
Alex swallowed. Great. Just great. He had fucked superpowered women and this was how he might go down? To two desperate idiots with shaky hands?
"Turn around," the robber said. "Back against the wall."
Alex clenched his jaw and slowly pivoted.
"Weaklings. To attack a man without a weapon is to act weaponless yourself."
Which was when this happened. A powerful mighty woman happened. Both men froze. Alex blinked.
The alley seemed to brighten as the noble-sounding woman stepped into view. She was tall, impossibly tall for a woman, towering over most men. She was six-foot-five at least. Bronze-gold armor glinted and her red hair was like a flowing banner of fire behind her. Her face was sharp, regal, and entirely unamused.
Holy shit…
'Angela from Marvel Rivals!?'
He knew from the pressure and from what his life was. This was not someone cosplaying. The Angela. She was an Asgardian, a warrior. The Huntress of Heven. It was seeing a Valkyrie step out of a myth.
Angela tilted her head. There were grey markings running down her cheeks connected to thick red war paint around her eyes. She looked scary and tribal without trying. "Are these mortals threatening you?"
Alex stammered. "I—I guess? Technically?"
The muggers gaped.
The second guy mumbled, "What the hell… is she wearing armor? Is this cosplay?"
"Like it matters!" The knife-holder was full of confidence, rightfully so. No matter if you were seven feet or five feet, a knife was a knife. It penetrated flesh all the same.
For Angela, it made no difference. Her foot stomped down, she smirked, and she acted. Angela was so fast Alex barely saw it. But it had to have been a punch because the knife-wielding robber slammed into the dumpster and crumpled unconscious.
The second backed up, eyes bulging. "Lady, chill!"
"The Hand of Heven is here. Show some respect." Angela placed a palm on his forehead and thrusted. He collapsed like a string-cut puppet.
Alex blinked. "Did… did you just—"
"Subdue them? Yes." Angela brushed a speck of imaginary dust off her armored gauntlet. "I hope that is not a problem for you. You were attacked."
"N-no, it's not." Alex stared up at her, grocery bags forgotten, jaw halfway to the floor.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Angela," he managed. "From Marvel Rivals. Divine Judgement a-and Norse god lady. Former Norse god lady." God, he was bad at this. He regained his composure. "An honour to meet you. Really."
She smiled, small, serene, and devastatingly confident. "At last. Someone competent enough to recognize me." Hands on her hips, Angela leaned down and examined him with eyes the color of stormlit gold. "You are Alex?"
He nodded and smiled. A woman from Marvel Rivals knowing his name shouldn't have been new at this point. "Yep, that's me."
Angela nodded once. "Good. Then the journey was correct."
Alex blinked. "Journey…?"
Angela folded her arms, metal plates shifting. "I was contacted by Hela."
"Oh. Hela contacted you?"
"Yes," Angela said. "It was a brief message, really. This world lacks magic in its totality. Even sending something like a telepathic message took Hela's whole soul to do. But what she managed to tell me was this: Alex is the mortal who will help me adjust."
Her gaze was pointed down to him. His gaze was flicking between her cleavage, face, and abs.
"You. You are Alex, correct."
How did she even know he was Alex in the first place…? Eh, probably magic shit.
"Gotcha, gotcha." He nodded along. "Yeah, I've, uh, got something of a community now. So I can definitely help you out."
"Is that so? Excellent. That part was unclear and Hela is rarely easy. But she insisted I would be safe with you."
Alex ran a hand through his hair and flashed a smile. He was thinking but also trying to be courteous. "No problem, I'll take care of you." Angela blinked, mildly surprised by his welcoming nature. "Say, how long have you been here?"
"Two or three days ago."
"Oh, that was when I arrived here."
Meaning, Alex definitely caused her to be here. No confusion about that.
While he was thinking, Angela bent down and picked up his fallen grocery bags—all of them—one-handed. She lifted them as if they weighed nothing.
"I will assist you in carrying these," she said.
Alex blinked. "Oh! Thanks."
Together, they stepped out of the alley and into the soft glow of streetlights. Angela walked beside him like a personal knight escorting a prince, her strides long and confident. People passing on the street stared, some in confusion at her armor, others with admiration, a few with outright fear. Angela seemed to notice none of it.
"You live near here?" she asked.
"Yeah." Alex pointed to a tall brick building with modern windows. "We own all the floors but…I guess we can go to the second floor."
Angela nodded. "A stronghold. So many of them too. I like human architecture."
"Thank you. I think."
They stepped inside the lobby, the automatic doors hissing open. The building smelled faintly of lavender cleaner and new carpet. That was the result of Natasha renovating the entire place within a week of buying it. There was no receptionist or security guard. The only security was the ID card and the Scarlet Witch on the first floor, unit 101.
Angela glanced around with the analytical alertness of a soldier sweeping a new base. Either she felt the Scarlet Witch meditating or was simply scouting.
Alex chuckled under his breath. "Don't worry, it's safe." He walked forward, smiling, and Angela decided to believe him and follow.
They reached the stairwell. Angela held the bags under one arm, freeing her hand to pull the door open for him. She sure was nice. Going up the stairs, her golden eyes softened, something almost warm flickering within them.
"I am grateful," Angela suddenly said. "You took me in without thinking twice. Even us gods are not so kind."
Alex paused on the stairs and looked down at her. "I'm sure you're plenty kind too. Plus, I'm just doing what I can to help, that's all."
"Trust me." Angela started laughing. "If I was not in the condition that I am, when we met, I would have said, 'I serve as Queen of the Tenth Realm. Kneeling is acceptable.'" She continued to laugh at herself whole-heartedly. She was more chill than he thought.
"I mean…you are a queen…"
Angela smiled—the kind of smile that transformed her from fearsome warrior to something beautiful woman. "How respectful. Hela certainly does not choose lightly."
"I guess not."
They reached the landing of the second floor and Alex unlocked the door to the apartment unit. They were greeted by a nice, expensive living room and kitchen. For Angela, it was a far cry from what she was used to. Still, not bad. She put the groceries down.
"Alright, so this will be your floor. All the doors here have everything you could need," Alex told her. He gestured to her to follow and they went out back into the hall. He started pointing at the doors. "All these units have different stuff. There's a theatre, there's a living room, there's a small running track, a gym…" He looked back at her. "A gym is like a small training ground."
"...I know what it is."
"Oh, sorry. I thought you were more like Hela."
Angela laughed good-naturedly and crossed her arms. "Haha, it's fine! And I must give my thanks! My powers are gone. I will need it."
"Right, I was going to talk to you about that," Alex said. "What are your powers? What have you lost? Just so I can know."
"My black wing," Angela explained, "they no longer grant me flight. And they are smaller too, as though wrinkled."
He peaked over. "Ohh. I thought that was apart of your armour…"
"No. I was killed once and revived by an angel. I am…something of a false angel."
"Oh. Sounds cool."
Angela smiled widely. "It is, is it not?" She slapped a hand on his back. "Now, to training I go!"
As much as he wanted to reach out and stop her, he physically couldn't. She entered unit 203, shut the door, and got to training. Alex shrugged. "Guess I'll ask her next time."
***
Three days later, Alex knocked lightly on the door at the far end of the second floor. This was officially Angela's floor. Her entire floor. Angela came out scarcely and put her full effort in trying to regain her previous strength. Unfortunately, considering how long she was spending, it seemed her efforts were minimal. She was simply working out like any other normal person with the gains being minute compared to the planet-busting strength she was hoping for.
Alex kept knocking.
"Angela? You in there?"
The door opened and Angela stood there wearing the same armor as yesterday, but her hair was loose now, cascading down her shoulders like a red waterfall. She looked alert, but relaxed, almost as if she had been waiting.
"Good morning, Alex," Agnela said, voice softer than her battle-ready tone yesterday. "Apologies, I was resting. Injured my wrist, you see." She showed him the injury. It must have been a sprain because there was no bruise.
Ah, no wonder. Being human must have been new to her. Alex put on a hundred-watt smile. "Morning! So—I figured today we should get you some clothes."
Angela blinked. "Clothes? I have armor."
He was pretty much face to face with her cleavage. Good gods, she was tall and muscular and had a nice pair. His gaze trailed down to her abs and her legs. Way too much skin was showing for the public. "Yeah. You can't wear armor to Starbucks."
She tilted her head. "Why would I not?"
Alex bit back a laugh. "Trust me. You'll want options. Plus, you know, winter exists here. And you're going to freeze."
"..."
"Come on, you can feel it, can't you? You're human. Very human."
"I know," she murmured. "To think a thousand pounds of weight would be too much for me…" Angela sighed and switched to a neutral expression. "Very well. I will acquire… 'options.'"
The mall was already buzzing when they arrived, a Saturday morning mix of teens, parents, and people. Angela drew stares immediately. Not because she was armored—she wore a hoodie Alex lent her—but because she was six-foot-five, broad-shouldered, radiant as hell, and carried herself like royalty disguised as a tourist.
Angela glanced around curiously. "This is… a marketplace."
"Yeah. With, uh… a lot of fluorescent lights."
"...it looks like humans here live off pretzels," she remarked.
"There's a pretty popular store that sells some. Want them?"
"...yes."
He laughed and they made a quick stop to the pretzel store. Angela took the first bite and was wide-eyed. They didn't have anything like this in Asgard or Heven, she remarked. While eating, they headed to a big department store. He was introducing this goddess to wide aisles, mannequins, and a sea of fabrics.
Angela eyed a row of dresses and took the last bite of her pretzel. "You said I need clothing for all seasons?"
"At least something that fits," Alex said. "You're difficult to size."
She looked down at herself, thoughtful. "My people often craft garments to exact proportions. Then again, it is because of who I am."
A clerk helped them measure Angela. The clerk needed a ladder and had to use a measuring tape. They eventually found her a heavy winter coat: deep forest green, belted at the waist, with a faux-fur trimmed hood.
Angela slipped it on. It fit like it had been made for her.
Alex nodded. "Okay, yeah, that's perfect."
Angela studied her reflection. "I can feel the warmth! Excellent!"
"You look great," he said.
Angela laughed and winked. "Your praise is appreciated, Alex!"
Next came comfort clothes. Angela held up a pair of charcoal joggers with a raised eyebrow. "These are soft," she said, rubbing the fabric.
"Super soft," Alex confirmed. "Don't wear soft at home?"
"Not particularly."
"Then experiment. Trust me, it'll be fun." Alex smiled and Angela looked at that smile and decided why not. She paired them with a cream-colored oversized knit sweater. When she stepped out of the changing room, sleeves slightly long, hair falling forward—
Alex blinked. "That's… actually incredible. Adorable even."
Angela looked down. She smirked looking up. "Thank you, I appreciate it. Am I already an expert?"
He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, an expert. Definitely."
After this, the confident Angela started to choose more on her own. She paused at a rack of flowing summer dresses, touching one with a curious gentleness. She chose a light blue dress with layered fabric and soft straps.
When she tried it on, the blue color contrasted beautifully with her red hair. She put it on. The dress fell to her knees, moving lightly when she shifted her weight.
"This is unusually light," Angela remarked.
"It's for hot weather," Alex explained. "Summer."
Angela turned side to side. "I like how it moves." She smiled and laughed a little. "I am not averse to dresses, but...it is rare that I wear them considering who I am."
"That's a bit sad. Well, here, with me, you can be anything you like," Alex declared. "Don't hold back, alright?"
"Oh-ho? You have the money?"
"Haha, yep. Might not look it, but I'm pretty stacked."
"Then I shall spend as much as I like!"
She looked down at him, eyes warm. Angela gravitated next toward something more familiar: strength. She chose fitted black jeans—stretch fabric, thankfully—and a sleek black leather jacket.
When she stepped out wearing it, she looked like she had just walked off a movie poster.
Alex let out a small breath. He did a double-take and applauded. "Okay, wow! That is very in-line with you!"
The markings on her face were usually emphasized by the golden wings helmet she wore; but in black jeans and a leather jacket, the red on her face really popped.
Angela raised a brow. "You approve?"
"I'd be crazy not to."
The truth was, she made everything look hot and heroic.
As the hours passed, something eased in Angela—some tension she'd carried from another world. She laughed lightly when Alex cracked jokes, listened intently when he explained clothing materials, and steadily drifted closer whenever crowds pushed past.
"You are… unusual," she said at one point.
"How so?"
"You are unafraid of me." Angela paused. "Most people cannot look me in the eyes for long."
Alex blinked. "Really? I can't get why. You're great."
"No fear?" Angela asked again, testing the words.
"Nope."
That seemed to mean something to her. Something big.
They ended up in the mall's food court, sharing a table with way too many bags at their feet. Alex bought lunch, no hesitation, even though Angela could probably eat like a small army.
Angela tried fries for the first time.
She stared at the basket. "These are… excellent."
"I know, right?"
"They are warm and salty and… addictive."
Alex laughed. "Welcome to Earth cuisine."
They talked more. About cities. About Earth customs. About how weird it felt for her to sleep in a building with electricity. Angela listened to him with a focus that felt almost reverent.
And the more she listened, the more she relaxed. Her posture softened. Her voice lowered. Her smile came easier.
Alex was glad to see it.
The sun had dipped low by the time they walked back toward the apartment, Angela carrying half the bags effortlessly while Alex juggled a couple himself.
"It was… enjoyable," Angela admitted as they reached the building steps.
"Yeah. I had fun too."
"You were patient," she said. "And kind. And you did not treat me as something strange." She paused, her eyes steady on him. "I am grateful."
Before Alex could respond, she stepped closer—tall, graceful, a towering silhouette in her new winter coat—and gently took his hand. Bowing her head just slightly, she pressed her lips to the back of it in a formal, knightly gesture of respect and thanks.
Alex froze. Heat shot straight up his neck.
Angela straightened. "A gesture from my world. To honor someone who has shown trust."
"Right," he said weakly. "Uh… wow."
Angela smiled down at him. "Goodnight, Alex."
And with that, she turned and walked down the hall toward her floor. He could feel how content she was.
Alex stood there for a long moment, hand still tingling, wondering how in the world his life had gotten this strange, this fast.
And why he wasn't complaining.
****
That night, the steam from the bath swirled in Alex's bathroom. He dropped the plush white towel. His cock bounced out. He inhaled in relief and positively.
"All's well that ends well."
His pooled at his feet on the heated marble floor just as the heavy oak door swung open.
Alex turned, startled, and there she was.
Angela filled the doorway, a woman of sculpted muscles and unapologetic nudity. Six-foot-five of divine warrior, her skin like polished alabaster gleaming in the low light. The fire from the sconces danced across the sharp planes of her abdomen and the powerful curve of her thighs. A single, magnificent wing, feathers of spun gold and obsidian, was folded against her back and her fiery red hair was a cascade over one shoulder.
Angela's smile was a predator's quiet smirk.
'A-Angela…?'
Her eyes didn't dart around the room. They didn't glance at the gold fixtures or the vast expanse of the tub. They dropped. And they stayed there, locked onto the heavy, flaccid weight of his cock that had bounced when he turned.
A low, appreciative sound, somewhere between a hum and a laugh, rumbled in her chest. "Well now," Angela called out, her voice a rich alto that vibrated through the steam-filled air. "The stories circulating among your… collective… did not exaggerate."
Recovering his composure, Alex offered a small, easy smile. He was used to these kinds of reactions. "Angela, hey. Uh, haha, they rarely do. Though I'd appreciate a knock next time, Angela."
"Where is the fun in that?" she countered, stepping fully into the room. Her movements were impossibly graceful for her size, each muscle coiling and releasing with lethal precision. She didn't walk; she prowled. "A debt must be assessed with all available evidence presented. And you, Alex, are a subject deserving of a full and thorough inspection." Her eyes flicked back up to his, a spark of gold fire in their depths. "May I join you? The water looks… inviting."
"It's all yours," he said, gesturing to the vast sunken tub. He turned and stepped into the near-scalding water, sinking down with a contented sigh, the water sloshing around his hips. He was cool, unflustered, his calm demeanor a direct contrast to her blazing alpha energy.
Yep, he was getting used to this. Totally. Yeah. His brain totally wasn't racing at a million miles per second.
Angela followed, her entrance into the water less a submersion and more a claiming. She settled opposite him, her long legs stretching out, her knees breaking the surface. The water barely covered her navel. She leaned back against the tub's edge, her wide shoulders and formidable arms resting on the rim, the picture of relaxed dominance. The contrast was breathtaking—his lean, athletic build against her epic, warrior's frame; his quiet contentment against her smoldering intensity.
Angela watched him for a long moment, the smirk never leaving her lips. "You have been… kind," she began. "Offering sanctuary to an exiled daughter of two worlds. A woman with no realm to call her own. In Heven, we understand the weight of a debt. It is the currency of our existence, the foundation of all honor. And I owe you a great one."
"You don't owe me anything, Angela," Alex said, his voice calm and genuine. "It's just a place to stay."
"Just?" Angela chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "You see the world through a fascinating lens. It is why they are all so fiercely loyal to you, I think. This kindness is not a transaction for you. It is simply… your nature. A rare and impressive courage, to be so openly generous in a universe that so often repays it with cruelty." Her golden eyes drifted down his torso, beneath the water's cloudy surface. "And you are impressive in so… many… ways."
Her words hung in the air, thick and heavy as the steam. She didn't wait for a reply and she pushed forward through the water, the liquid parting for her like a subject for its queen. Angela didn't stop until she was beside him, her heat radiating against his side.
Glancing to his side, to her, Alex felt very small.
"But a debt must be paid," Angela whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "And I am a woman of my word."
Her hand, strong and calloused from a lifetime wielding a sword, slid beneath the water's surface. His breath hitched as her fingers, surprisingly deft, found him. She didn't fumble. She didn't need to test the waters, to probe. Angela simply took to his cock. Her grasp was firm, assured, wrapping around the thick base of his flaccid cock. It was still immense while flaccid, a dense handful of soft flesh.
With a slow, deliberate pull, she lifted.
His cock rose from the water, a glistening, thick length of flesh that seemed to defy its previous state. Water sluiced off it in rivulets. Even completely soft, the size was staggering, stretching out over the water's surface, a promise of what was to come.
Angela's smirk widened into a look of fascination. "By the Ten Realms…" she breathed, her gaze fixed on the heavy weight in her hand. "I always thought men were pathetic. But this…" She licked her lips. "This certainly isn't."
Then her hand began to move.
It was not a tentative exploration. It was a study. Her palm, rough yet soothing, slid up his shaft with a knowing pressure. The friction was exquisite. Alex groaned, his head falling back against the rim of the tub as his body responded instantly to her expert touch.
Blood surged, a hot and urgent tide, pumping into the cradle of her palm. He thickened, lengthened, growing impossibly harder and bigger under her ministrations. Angela watched, enthralled, as the soft flesh transformed into rigid, throbbing steel. Her fingers traced the thick, prominent vein running along the underside, feeling the powerful pulse of his heartbeat within it.
Angela shifted her grip, her other hand coming up to cup his full, heavy balls, weighing them in her palm with a soft, approving hum. Her strokes became smoother, aided by the water and his own pre-existing slickness, each upward pull twisting slightly at the apex, each downward plunge firm and grounding.
Alex could only watch, mesmerized by the sight of this gargantuan warrior, this myth made flesh, utterly captivated by a part of him. Her focus was absolute. Her breathing had deepened, matching the rhythm of her hand, her chest rising and falling. The muscle in her jaw was tight with concentration… or perhaps desire.
Angela worked him until he was fully, completely erect—a towering, twelve-inch monument of straining flesh, jutting proudly from the water, the flushed, leaking head aimed right at her. The transformation was complete.
Angela stilled her hand, simply holding him at the base. She stared at it, her fiery eyes wide, taking in every detail: the angry red hue, the perfect, smooth crown, the single bead of clear fluid that welled up from the slit. The redhead leaned in, her face just inches away.
Her tongue, pink and pointed, darted out to wet her lips.
Angela didn't look at his face. Her gaze was locked on the zenith of his cock.
"A most formidable instrument," Angela murmured. She was husky with a hunger that was entirely new. "A debt is one thing… but this… this is a treasure."
Fixed on the throbbing length in her hand, her gaze was womanly hunger. The smoldering intrigue from moments before has ignited into a blaze of need. That single, predatory smirk returns, a silent challenge issued to herself.
'A debt must be paid in full,' her expression said, 'and I will taste my payment.'
Fiery hair brushed against his thighs and she opened her mouth. Angela the Hand of Heven throated that fat monster cock.
Alex gasped, his fingers curling against the slick tub edge. "Oh, fuck…!" Divine mouth like an inferno, impossibly hot and wet, and it was stretched so wide around his girth he could see the strain at the corners of her lips. "Fuck, fuck…!"
Angela was a warrior, used to overcoming impossible obstacles, and she met this one with that same fierce determination. Her tongue, a slick, agile muscle, swirled around the sensitive head. Lavishing the slit and tasting the salty pre-cum that beads there. The feeling was so intense it made his hips twitch.
"Mmmphh~!!" Angela pushed deeper, swallowing more of him. Her head bobbed. He could feel the tight constriction of her throat as she worked to accommodate him, her nostrils flaring with the effort of breathing through it. She was strong, so incredibly strong, but his size was a true challenge even for her.
Halfway down his shaft, she stopped. Her gag reflex seized her, and she pulled back with a wet, ragged gasp, her eyes watering slightly. A string of saliva connects her lower lip to his glistening cock. Angela shakes her head, a look of furious, fascinated disbelief on her face.
"By the shattered gates of Heven…!" Angela's chest heaved loudly. "Damn monster cock! Heh." The failure wasn't a defeat; it was fuel. Her eyes narrow, the spark within them burning hotter.
This was a foe to be conquered.
The Hand of Heven dived back in with renewed vigor, her warrior's pride on the line. She didn't attempt the impossible depths again. Instead, she focused on what she could master. Her mouth became a weapon of pure pleasure. She used her lips, her tongue, the roof of her mouth—every sensitive surface—to worship all six inches of length while the Literal Hand of Heven stroked the remaining inches of manly dick.
"Unh, Angela…Angela…"
He had to groan. She established a glorious rhythm of bobbing her head up and down, up and down. One of her strong hands worked the base of his shaft in a tight, twisting motion, perfectly synced with the plunges of her mouth. The other hand kneaded his heavy balls, rolling them gently in their sack.
Her hands were huge. The only pair of hands among all his women to actually be able to fully and properly wrap around his girth.
"Where—nnngh, did you learn this?"
Didn't she have a wife or something? Where did learning a cock enter in that complicated history of hers? Angela sounded beautiful: wet, sucking noises, her heavy breaths between strokes, and Alex's own groans.
He couldn't think. He could only feel. The world narrowed to the searing heat of her mouth, the expert pressure of her handjob. Good god, no wonder she was the Hand of Heven! That handjob…fuck, it was the main ingredient. It was what was driving his cock and balls nuts.
It was passionate and fast and—too much to describe! He watched, transfixed, as Angela screwed up in concentration, her brow furrowed, her lips stretched obscenely around his girth. Even with all that passion, even with her amazing handjob, it didn't seem like she was in control at all.
Alex chuckled a little.
It was probably the most powerful he ever felt. This big, muscle mommy, sucking his dick and struggling.
Her technique was brutal efficiency mixed with raw passion. Angela flicked her tongue against the frenulum on every upstroke, a precise, maddening stimulus that has him seeing stars. She hollowed her cheeks, creating a sublime suction that made his toes curl against the porcelain.
'S-she's doing everything…!'
Angela took him deep, right to the point of her limit—seven inches—and held him there for a heart-stopping moment, letting him feel the frantic flutter of her throat muscles, before pulling back with a slick pop only to surge down again. Her nose flared.
No air for the weak was what she was saying.
He felt the pressure building, a coiling, unstoppable tide deep within him. "Angela… I'm… I'm close," he managed to grunt.
She didn't stop. If anything, her pace increased. Her eyes fluttered up to meet his, and the look in them—a mix of triumph and desperate hunger—was what finally undid Alex.
His orgasm hit him like a thunderclap. He groaned and his back arched off the tub. The first powerful burst flooded her mouth. Her eyes went wide with genuine surprise at the volume and force of it. She tried to swallow, her throat working frantically, but it's too much. Spurt, spurt, spuuurt!
'J-just how much cum—!?' He could read her mind. Angela's thoughts were of a woman that did not expect this. The cock size and the volume of his seed…
"Mmmppph~!! Ghhshkkk!"
A thick, pearlescent stream escapes her stretched lips, dribbling down his shaft and onto her hand.
Angela pulled off with a choked, gasping cough, more cum spilling from her mouth. She was a mess, and she looked utterly magnificent. The six-foot-five warrior stared, panting, at the still-pulsing cock in her hand, which continued to release rope after rope of his release onto her breasts and into the water between them.
She looked from his cock to his face, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes; a flicker of disappointment in her own inability to contain it all, quickly burned away by a wave of sheer, awestruck avarice. She brought her cum-slicked fingers to her lips, tasting him, her tongue cleaning the evidence of her failure.
Angela let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head in awe. "A generous offering," she rasped. Her gaze dropped back to his cock, which, impossibly, was fully hard and twitching in the aftermath. A new, deeper hunger settled on her features.
Angela licked her lips clean, a predator savoring the first taste of a grand kill. Her golden eyes locked onto his, blazing with promise.
Cue the low, thrilling octave. "A good start. But a debt of this magnitude requires… complete repayment. I am not nearly finished." Her hand stroked him possessively, feeling the stubborn life still thrumming within him. "I will ride you, your mighty engine, and your sack until it is empty and thanking me."
Angela didn't make him wait long for her loving threat.
Water sloshed over the tub's edge as she rose to her knees. Water cascaded in sheets from her alabaster skin and the golden planes of her single, magnificent wing. Angela was a goddess of war, and her eyes were fixed on her prize. She straddled his hips, her powerful thighs caging his waist. The smooth, sleek skin of her inner thighs compared to his ordinary legs…
"You're small yet so…"
She reached down between them, her strong fingers once again finding the thick, still-hard length of him. Even while standing, she could press that monster cock against her pussy and abs.
"...so hung and big~!"
Smirking, she lifted herself and pointed his fat dick to her cunt, her gaze locked with his. There was a flicker of that same warrior's determination, the same pride that refused to be bested by his cock in her mouth. This, she will conquer.
"The debt," she breathed, "is paid in full with this."
Angela sank down. The goddess deemed this cock worthy.
The initial stretch was immense, a burning, glorious pressure that made her gasp, her eyes fluttering shut. She was a warrior, her body a honed instrument, but this was a challenge of a different kind. Inch by agonizingly slow inch, she impaled herself upon this cock. Her pussy muscles clenched and rippled in a desperate attempt to accommodate his breathtaking girth.
"T-this thiing…ngggh~! You really are a monster!"
The monster known as Alex groaned and his hands came to rest lightly on her water-slicked hips.
Angela was so tight. Unbelievably, perfectly tight. Her cunt was almost suffocated and made him want to unload right then and there. Divine pussy was just different. He could feel every minute tremor that ran through her powerful frame as she worked more of him inside.
More inches…
"Ngggh~! J-just how much more…!" She glanced down. She regretted it and actually whimpered. Angela, yes, she whimpered. "Mmppphhh~!"
She had only taken five inches.
"Haaah…haaahh…!"
Angela had to stop or else she'd orgasm. That wouldn't do, not at all. She stopped and waited, and she was lucky Alex wasn't impatient.
At eight inches, her eyes were squeezed shut, her head thrown back, the cords of her neck standing out in stark relief. Her wings trembled, sending droplets of water flying.
At ten inches, she stopped, her muscled body going rigid above him. Part shock and entire ecstasy enveloped him.
"Ah! N-no! I—!"
Angela's eyes fly open, wide with stunned disbelief. Her internal muscles convulsed around him in a violent, uncontrollable spasm. Her climax crashed over her without permission, a brutal wave of pleasure that seized her completely. Her body shook, her thighs quivering violently where they gripped his waist. She wasn't ready. She hadn't commanded it. It just happened.
The sheer, overwhelming fullness of him has short-circuited her legendary control. Her willpower.
A look of pure, frustrated defeat washed over Angela for a single, vulnerable second. She, Angela of Asgard and Heven, a warrior who had faced down celestial armies, had been conquered by a mortal's cock before the battle even truly began.
Alex saw it. That flicker of shock, of surrender. His calm demeanor didn't shift, but a new light entered his eyes. A gentle, unyielding dominance. His kindness was his nature, but so was this—the innate understanding of how to care for those in his charge, even if that care meant taking control.
His hands on her hips, which had been merely resting, tighten. He didn't ask. He didn't warn her.
In one smooth, devastating motion, he pulled her down the final, impossible two inches while driving his own hips up off the tub floor.
The reaction was cataclysmic. A full, deep, complete intrusion that stamped the air from her lungs in a choked squeak. He was buried to the hilt, their bodies meeting completely, his pelvis pressing firmly against her. Angela could feel him, all of him, stretching her, filling her in a way that transcended the physical. It felt like being claimed. Like being home.
The water lapped against the tub like it was the bell of death. Angela stared down at him, her expression a chaotic mix of awe, frustration, and dawning, desperate need.
"Hgaahh…hgnnnhhh…"
Angela tried to reclaim some shred of her dominance. She braced her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into his pectorals, and attempted to move. She rose up slowly, a shudder wracking her frame, and sank back down, setting a tentative, grinding rhythm. It was too slow. Too careful. It was the movement of someone who had been thoroughly broken in and was afraid of the power that did it.
Alex let her try for a few strokes, watching the conflict on her face. "You need help?"
Oh fuck. Oh fuck, she realized. This bastard wasn't fazed. This bastard was going to ruin her. With a casual, almost effortless strength that made her breath catch, Alex took over.
His hands on her hips became his instruments. He lifted her up until just the head of his cock remained inside her, stretching her entrance, and then he pulled her back down, hard and fast, while his hips pistoned upward to meet her.
"In the name of—" She was cut off by her own orgasm. The slow, tentative grind was annihilated. Replaced by a deep, pounding rhythm that was utterly ruthless in its efficiency. "CUMMIIING!! YOU'RE MAKING ME CLIIMMAAX!!!"
Then the second thrust, third thrust…
"Oh! Oh, by the realms! BY ALL THE REALMS, THIS COCK IS STRETCHING MY CUUUUUNT~!!"
…fourth, fifth…
"THIS DICKKK!!! I CAN'T STOP IT! I CAN'T STOP IT FROM SPEARING MY WOMBBB!!" Angela cried out, her voice losing all its calculated purr, becoming a high, desperate thing.
He fucked her with a calm, devastating power that Angela was utterly unprepared for. Each thrust was a deliberate, full-length stroke that touched something deep within her that had never been touched before. Her carefully constructed composure shattered. Angela's head lolled back, her fiery hair whipping behind her.
She was a huge six-foot-five monster of a woman. Her thighs were thicc in muscle. Her arms could knock a man out.
But this cock…
"IT'S CHANGING MEEE!! ALEEXX! ALEX, W-W-W-WAAAIIIT—!"
He blinked and waited. Suddenly, she was panting and clinging to his shoulders. Even that grip felt weak. Felt pathetic. She was barely hanging on. She looked down at him, gasping and shuddering. "F-fuck…y-your dick…"
Alex just chuckled. "I know, pretty good, right?"
Pretty good…
Pretty good?
Pretty good!?
Her single wing, as if acting on its own volition, unfolded and then wrapped forward, enveloping them both in a cocoon of shimmering gold feathers and intense, radiating heat. They were in their own private world now.
"Oh, a sign to start fucking?"
Her eyes widened. "W—"
Wham, wham, wham!
He went harder. Water sloshed out of the bathtub from how hard he was plowing into her. Her cunt was already slippery and wet and honestly, it just made his thrusts more clean. More direct.
Angela babbled. She tried to seem tough and this came out: "Y-you… your… your fat stud cock! It's—ah!—it's too much! It's… making me…hgggnnnh! GSHSHJKKKK!! I can't—! I CAN'T HANDLE THIS MAN'S COOOCCKK~!!"
Another orgasm, sharper than the first, ripped through her. Her body seized up, her nails digging into his skin as she screamed. "CUMMING! I'M CUMMING~!!"
Alex didn't slow. His rhythm was primal. He watched her come apart above him, her warrior's strength rendered useless by the pleasure he was casually, generously giving her with his dick.
"Gonna cum soon…!"
It was all so casual. So cool. Alex grunted and drove into her one last time, burying himself to the root and holding himself there as his own climax finally, violently, overtakes him.
The first hot, virile pulse rockets into her depths. Angela's eyes, which had been squeezed shut in ecstasy, flew open. They rolled back into her head, a muffled, overwhelmed shriek caught in her throat. She could feel it—the incredible, pumping heat of his creampie, jet after jet flooding her. Her own fading climax rose into a new, dizzying peak.
It was too profound for words. It was completion. It was payment. It was something far, far more.
"M-my powers…!"
This was worse than when she first arrived here. Angela couldn't believe it but she went limp against this man. She lost feeling. In that realization, in that loss, she managed to surge forward and cradle his face with her hands. She crashed her lips against his in a deep, desperate, messy kiss. It was not skilled or practiced. It was nothing but her need for her. A silent communication of the tectonic shift happening within her.
When Angela finally pulled back, gasping for air, she looked down at their joined bodies, her stretched out cunt in the water, then into his eyes.
"This cock...this cum…"
She heaved. Angela grinned.
"You won't quit now, will you?"
Alex grinned back.
Her massive, muscular form was utterly his to command. His hands, strong and sure, were locked under her ass, fingers digging into the impossibly firm globes of her cheeks, lifting her entire weight with an ease that should have been impossible. She was a giantess, a goddess of war, and he was using her like a toy, her legs wrapped around his waist, her huge single wing flapping wildly, sending steam and water spraying across the opulent bathroom.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"Fuck me! Fuck me harder, you mortal bastard! Make me forget my own fucking name!" Angela screamed, her voice cracking as Alex pistoned into her with a raw, primal power that shook her entire world. "OH YESSS~!! DICK ME DOWN! DON'T HOLD BACK!"
"You like that, you fucking angel?" Alex grunted, his voice a low rumble against her neck. "You like getting split in half by my cock?"
"Yes! Gods, yes! It's—ah!—it's so BLOODY DEEP! I can feel you SO DEEP~!!!" she babbled, her head thrashing from side to side. Every nerve ending was on fire. The stretch was beyond anything Angela had ever conceived.
Sera… Sera was a distant, fading memory, a ghost being exorcised with every brutal, perfect thrust. This was real. This unbearable fullness, this claiming, was the only truth that mattered now.
He adjusted his grip, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin near her rear entrance, and she saw stars. "Then take it all, Angela."
Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.
He drove up into her, a perfect, devastating angle that made her vision blur. Her powerful abdominal muscles clenched, her core tightening around the invading thickness as another orgasm, sharp and sudden, ripped through her. "I'm CUMMING! Fuck! I'm CUMMING ALREADY! Don't you DARE stop! Don't you FUCKING STOP, ALEX!"
He didn't. His rhythm never faltered, never slowed. He was a machine of pleasure, each movement calculated to wring another shattered cry from her lips. He watched her, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger that made her cunt flutter wildly around him.
'He's not just fucking me,' she realized through the haze, 'he's studying me. Learning how to break me.'
A fucking goddess bouncing on his dick. She realized—she was his.
Angela believed the liquid running down her face was from the bath. It wasn't. These were tears born from overwhelming pleasure. Because of this. Her huge muscular form, damp with sweat and bath water, impaled on his thick, veiny cock. She watched, mesmerized, as he slid out, glistening and wet with her arousal, only to plunge back in to the hilt, making her gasp at the renewed fullness.
"You're mine," Angela corrected for herself, a final, weak grasp at her old pride, even as she ground down onto him, demanding more. "This… this magnificent cock is mine."
Alex chuckled, all nice and cool. "Is that what you think? Then prove it. Fuck yourself on it. Show me how bad you need it."
The challenge ignited the last vestiges of her warrior spirit. With a guttural cry, she planted her hands on his broad shoulders for leverage and began to move. Angela rose up, his cock sliding almost all the way out, the cool air a shocking contrast, before slamming herself back down, taking him deep in one fierce, hungry motion.
Alex fell back down on the bathtub. At this point, the water was thinned out from the fucking, hardly touching his balls, and her feet slammed down on the marble tub.
"Ungh! Yes! Good job! Just like that! Fuck yourself on my cock, you muscle mommy. Use my dick like it's yours."
He almost wanted to lay down with how she established a driving rhythm. Her powerful thighs did divine work, bouncing on him with a strength that made the tiny amounts of remaining water churn around them. "It is mine! This big, fat, perfect cock is all mine! Nobody else gets this! Nobody fucks you like I do!" Each word was punctuated by a wet, slapping impact of their bodies.
"Tell me what you want, Angela!"
"I want your cum!" Angela shrieked, her composure completely gone, replaced by a raw, desperate need. "I want you to fucking fill me up! Pump your fucking seed so deep inside me I taste it! I want to feel it leaking out of me for days, you hear me? Fucking breed me, Alex!"
Her words, so crude and unlike her, were the final key. The coil in his nutsack tightened to its breaking point. He was sitting up and he started ramming into her too. A man and a woman, trying to fuck each other's brains out.
What a view. What a night.
Angela's feet were slipping and bouncing on their heels. Fucking herself on that big dick of his.
"Angela… I'm gonna… I'm gonna fill that tight angel cunt up…"
"Do it! Please! Give it to me! I need it! I need to feel your fucking cum claim me!"
The warrior acknowledged by Angela roared and drove up into her and held himself there, buried to the root. His creampie was volcanic. She felt the first hot, pulsing jet hit her deepest point and cried out, her own climax crashing over her in a simultaneous wave. Another thick spurt, and another, each one a shocking, intimate brand inside her. He kept cumming , an impossible torrent of heat that flooded her, stretching her just that little bit more.
She collapsed against him for the second time and her wing wrapped around them both as she shuddered through everything. The creampie, her own orgasms, she could feel all. This hot, claiming fullness that soothed an ache she hadn't even known she possessed. It was a baptism. A rebirth.
When his spasms finally subsided, they were both panting, clinging to each other in the cooling water. Slowly, gently, he leaned back and his softening cock slipped from her with a soft, wet sound.
Angela looked down over her shoulder, dazed. A thick, pearlescent stream of his seed was already trickling out of her well-used pussy, dripping down onto his own balls and into the water.
A slow, sated, utterly blissful smile spread across Angela's face. She reached down, not in disgust, but in awe, collecting some of the fluid on her fingers.
"Look at that," Anglea whispered, her voice hoarse. "You really filled me to the brim, didn't you?" She brought her fingers to her lips, tasting him, her eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm… it's… it's perfect."
She opened her eyes, and the look she gave him wasn't one of a warrior or a debt-holder. It was one of pure, stunned devotion.
"You okay?" Alex cupped her cheeks and flashed her a smile. "Hope this wasn't, well, too fast."
"Too fast? Passion, my beloved, means equally as much as a kiss." To make her point, she leaned in and kissed him. "Mm…and you are a good kisser, Alex."
He flushed. "Thanks."
There was a beat where neither said anything. Angela simply sat ontop of him, her pussy aching and waiting for his cock. The only reason she didn't just start railing him was because of her memories. Her emotions. Her past.
"Sera never… she never made me feel… this," Angela admitted, the name of her lost love finally spoken, but now it carried no pain, only the dull weight of a forgotten relic. "This… completeness."
"Oh, uh, your wife?"
"In a past life." She shifted, wincing slightly at the sensitivity, and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. "But now you are my current obligation, Alex. Care to lift me?"
"L-lift you?"
She smirked and leaned back. "That's right," Angela purred, her fingers tracing idle patterns "A husband should be able to carry his woman."
"H-husband…?"
"It is a joke. I only mean to say you should have great strength to fuck an angel like me."
He already fucked her so…
A deep, throaty laugh rumbled in Alex's chest as he grabbed her ass cheeks and lifted her up once more. It almost didn't make sense. She was a solid two hundred pounds yet this ordinary young male could do it.
After spending so much time fucking so many women, when it came to any area of sex, Alex could just do it. From a mix of motivation and the natural exercise that came from sex, he could just do it.
Alex carried Angela, slick and dripping, from the bath. Water cascaded from their bodies onto the cold marble floor, tracing a path to the obscenely large bed that dominated the adjacent room.
"You think you're sore now? Just wait."
He laid Angela down on the silken sheets. Her massive frame caused a large dip in the king-sized bed for a moment. Right before he could slap his cock on her pussy…
"This battle is nothing compared to the wars I have fought."
Her foot tapped at his balls. He blinked and stopped, and with a powerful roll of her hips, Angela reversed their positions. Now, she straddled his thighs, her back to him, presenting the incredible expanse of her muscular back, the powerful sweep of her single wing, and the two perfectly round, firm globes of her ass. "I want to ride this fat fucking cock my way."
Alex grinned, placing his hands behind his head, a king on his throne. "Show me what you've got, angel."
Angela reached behind herself, her strong fingers finding his cock, which was already rock-hard and leaking for her again. She guided the thick, veiny head to her soaked entrance, positioning herself. "I'm going to fucking milk you dry with this divine cunt," she promised, her voice dripping with carnal intent.
Then she dropped.
It wasn't a slow descent. It was a deliberate, powerful impalement. Her body weight drove his entire monstrous length into her in one devastating motion. The air left her lungs in a shocked, guttural cry. "FUCK! YES!"
Her head fell back, her fiery hair whipping across his legs. She stayed there for a moment, seated fully, her inner walls spasming around the incredible intrusion. "Nnnggh… by the Ten Realms… I will never get used to this stretch…" she moaned, her voice trembling. "Oh fuuuuckkkk!! Oh Odiiin! Oh Lorddd~!!"
She was calling all the gods as she began to move. Her powerful thighs and core muscles flexed as she lifted herself, almost until just the tip remained, the cool air a tease on her stretched lips, before slamming back down with enough force to shake the bed frame.
Smack!
The sound of their flesh meeting was loud, wet, and perfect.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"That's it," Alex grunted, his hands still behind his head, a picture of relaxed dominance letting his prize do the work. She fucked herself on it. Bounced on that dick. Showing him how badly she wanted it.
Angela wasn't just moving up and down; she was circling her hips, swirling his girth inside her, searching for every single sensitive spot. Each downward plunge was a calculated assault on her own senses. Her wing fluttered uncontrollably, a golden banner of her ecstasy.
"Uhhhhnnh! Ngggh! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUUCCKKK!! C-CUMMIIING!!"
Good. Great. Alex smacked her left ass cheek and she went faster.
"Y-you damn brute! You like watching, don't you?" she panted, glancing over her shoulder, her face a mask of sweaty, primal need. "You like seeing my huge ass swallowing your cock?"
"I love it. Now spread those perfect cheeks for me. Let me see it all."
A shudder of pure want wracked her frame. She reached back with both hands, pulling herself open, offering him an unobstructed view of where his dick vanished into her pussy. The sight was his undoing. One hand shot out from behind his head, and he brought his palm down hard on her right ass cheek.
SPANK!
The sound cracked through the room. Angela jolted forward with a sharp cry, her cunt clenching like a vise around him. "Oh!" A bright red handprint bloomed on her alabaster skin.
"Again!" Angela demanded. "Spank this ass while I fuck you!"
"You didn't say please…"
"Please!"
His hand came down again, and again, alternating between the two perfect mounds of her ass, turning the skin a delicious, heated pink. Each impact drove her down harder onto him, forced another ragged moan from her lips, and made her tight channel squeeze him that much tighter.
"This cock!" she screamed, her rhythm becoming erratic, frantic. "This fucking glorious, monster cock is ruining me for anyone else! I can't—UNGH!—I can't think about anything else! Sera… fuck Sera! She never made me feel this… this full! This claimed!"
Her confession made her tighten up. Alex grunted. "D-damn…!"
She got tighter and tighter. "Fuckfuckfuckfuccckk! I LOVE THIS FUCKING COCCKK!! I LOVE THIS! I LOVE ITTT~!!" The emotional dam broke alongside the physical one. Her body went rigid above him, her back arching impossibly. "I'M CUMMING! ALEX, I'M COMING ON YOUR COCK!"
Soul-shattering pussy wrapped around his cock. Alex actually gasped. Angela ground down on him, rubbing her clit against his base, prolonging the agony and the ecstasy.
Before she could even come down, he was moving. His hands gripped her hips like vices, his calm dominance reasserting itself. "F-fuck…! You're really damn tight, aren't you!?"
Wham!
He started fucking up into her from beneath, his thrusts short, savage, and precise, aiming directly for that spongy spot inside her that was still screaming from her last climax.
"A-ALEEX—!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
His butt launched off the bed and his balls smacked against her clit. Gasp after gasp followed. Climax after climax. Angela could only sob, her body a quivering, overstimulated mess, completely at the mercy of his rhythm.
"Tooo muuuch!! Too much…! It's too DIVINEE!!"" she babbled, but her hips were still grinding, matching his thrusts, begging for more. "What in the name of the accursed All-Father have I gotten into?"
"You can take it," he grunted, driving into her. "Your greedy cunt is sucking me back in. You want it."
Her vision whited out. She was cumming again. Truly, Angela felt like she was shattering, flying apart under the relentless, perfect pounding of his cock. This wasn't pleasure; it was transcendence.
Watching her come undone, feeling her tight, heavenly pussy convulse around him, was his end. With a final, deep thrust that buried him to the hilt, he groaned, a low, guttural sound of pure release. "Fuck! Taking my cum, angel! All of it!"
The first hot jet painted her insides. Angela gasped, her eyes rolling back. "Yes! Fill me! Pump it deep!" Another thick spurt, and another, a seemingly endless torrent of his seed flooding her deepest parts. She collapsed forward, catching herself on her hands, her body shaking as she felt the incredible, hot volume of it.
It was everything.
She could feel it, a hot, possessive warmth spreading through her core, so much that it began to trickle out almost immediately. She stared, mesmerized, as a thick, pearlescent stream of their mixed fluids escaped her stretched entrance and dripped down onto his balls below.
A slow, sated, utterly blissful smile spread across her face. She was ruined, thoroughly fucked, and filled to the brim.
Angela's eyes rolled back and the six-foot-five giant toppled onto Alex. The poor young man had to grunt. "A-Angela…?"
She lay there, on top of him, and sighed to the dream world. That left Alex to clean everything up and, most importantly, move her.
He ended up laughing. "Cute," he said. His hands slithered up to her breasts. They were one ro two cups more than D-cups and on her large figure? Beautiful. Fuck, next time, he was going to ask for a tittyfuck...
"Shshkkk...."
But as for now?
He laughed at her snore. "You're way cuter than you look, Angela."
***
The steam from the bathroom had long since dissipated, replaced by the cool, dry air of Alex's expansive bedroom. They were tangled in a mountain of silk sheets, Angela's massive frame created a dramatic silhouette against the soft glow of a massive television mounted on the far wall. She was propped up on an elbow, her fiery hair a mess, her eyes wide with a childlike wonder he'd never seen in her before.
"They remind me of the Lady of the Lake's prophetic visions," Angela commented, her voice full of awe as she stared at the screen. "The images… they just… happen. Like a scrying pool, but, well…"
Alex was cross-legged. He sat beside the laid down woman. "It's fake, not a vision."
"Yes, exactly."
Alex chuckled, his hand lazily stroking the impossibly toned shape of her ass. "Like I said, that's television for ya."
"A story of glorious battle and honor," she murmured, completely enraptured by a scene of shield walls clashing. "It is… amazing." A long moment of comfortable silence passed, filled only with the sounds of clashing steel and dramatic music from the show. Her fingers, which had been tracing the lines of his chest, stilled. Her voice, when she spoke again, was small, a stark contrast to the warrior who had screamed his name hours before. "Sera… in some ways, you are a lot like her."
Alex stayed quiet, his thumb making slow circles on her skin. He knew better than to interrupt.
"She was all… light and grace and… quiet contemplation," Angela continued, her gaze fixed on the screen but seeing something else entirely. "She found beauty in stillness. In silence. I think… I think my noise, my ferocity, frightened her. My need for more than just… placid existence." She took a shaky breath. "So when she found a new purpose, she stayed. And we separated."
"I…see. Well, I'm here and I won't leave."
The words, so blunt and absolute, shattered the last of her defenses. Angela looked at him with a half-laugh. "Do you truly believe that?"
"I know it," he said, his hand coming up to cradle her jaw. "There's nothing gentle about a storm. Doesn't make it any less beautiful. Or powerful. Or necessary." He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, a tender counterpoint to the ferocity they'd shared. "You're not a defect, Angela. You're a force of nature, and I want every last chaotic, noisy, hungry part of you."
Anglea kissed him back, a deep, soul-searching kiss that tasted of salt and forgiveness. When they parted, she was laughing, a genuine, free sound that filled the room. She caressed his cheek, her thumb stroking his stubble. "You are a strange and wonderful man, Alex."
It was then that her eyes pointed to the glaringly obvious flagpole of a cock. Sitting cross-legged did not help a cock of his magnitude. Her laughter shifted, morphing into a low, wicked cackle that rumbled through her chest.
"And it seems this wonderful man is already prepared for the next campaign," Angela purred, her golden eyes dropping to the burgeoning bulge. All traces of her melancholy were burned away, replaced by that familiar, blazing hunger.
"Something like that. You up for it?"
"Heven and television has its merits, but I much prefer the field of sex!"
With that declaration, Alex acted and rolled the large woman onto her back. The television was forgotten. He hooked his powerful hands under her knees, pushing her legs back towards her shoulders, folding her immense, muscular form into a perfect pussy-revealing presentation presentation. The mating press. Her huge, single wing splayed out beneath her, a golden carpet for their passion. Her eyes went wide, not with fear, but with thrilling anticipation.
"This cunt," Alex growled, positioning the throbbing, plum-shaped head of his cock at her dripping entrance. "This perfect, tight, greedy cunt is about to get exactly what it's been begging for."
Alex descended. He dropped his full weight onto her, burying every impossible inch of his girth in one single, devastating plunge. The air was punched from her lungs in a soundless gasp. Her eyes rolled back. Angela was so full, so utterly speared, she could barely think.
"ALEEEEEX—!"
He gave her no quarter. He began to move in a brutal, loving piston. Wham! His pelvis smashed against her ass, the sound a wet, meaty slap that echoed her cries. Wham! He pulled almost all the way out, letting her feel the awful, beautiful emptiness for a fraction of a second before… WHAM! He slammed home again, deeper, harder, rearranging her very soul with each drive.
"This big fucking dick owns you!" he grunted, his abs flexing with each powerful thrust. "Tell me who you belong to!"
"YOU!" Angela screamed, her hands scrabbling at the sheets, her wing feathers rustling wildly. "I BELONG TO THIS COCK! GODS, I CAN FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING THROAT! DEEPER! PLEASE!"
He adjusted his angle, and the sensation that erupted through her was cataclysmic. It was no longer just pleasure; it was a neurological reset. Every thought of Sera, every memory of loss, was pounded into dust, replaced by the primal, singular truth of this fucking.
PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—!
'The Hand of Heven is here. Show some respect.' was what she said to every man but Alex.
"CUMMING! CUMMING, CUMMIIING, THIS BIG FUCKING DICK IS MAKING ME CUMMMMG~!!"
"I serve as Queen of the Tenth Realm. Kneeling is acceptable," was what Angela told she would have said to him in any other circumstance. Well, not anymore.
Angela wailed. She sounded like a woman possessed. Her huge, muscular legs bounced and trembled as they pressed against his shoulders. Her climaxes were a violent, unstoppable eruption that tore through her, wave after wave of mindless ecstasy making her vision strobe white and gold.
Feeling her convulse around him, her divine cunt milking him with frantic, possessive pulses, was his undoing. With a guttural roar that was pure animal triumph, he drove into her one last time, crushing her beneath him, and unleashed himself.
Did he warn her? No. He smiled, she smiled back, and that was all that was needed.
The first hot jet was a torrent, flooding her deepest channels. "YES! FILL ME! FUCK, PUMP IT ALL INSIDE ME!"
Alex coming, spurt after thick, voluminous spurt, a seemingly endless geyser of his claim. Sighing, he face-planted into her breasts.
"Mmm…"
They were a nice pair indeed. His hands snaked out and started groping them from the size, if only to feel them. Next time, Alex told himself, he was going to grope her tits while fucking her. Really watch and feel them jiggle.
'After I ask for the tityfuck,' he thought.
As for Angela, she could feel the incredible, hot abundance of his seed, a possessive warmth that soothed the last empty, lonely corners of her heart. It was so much it began to trickle out almost immediately, a warm stream of his essence leaking from her well-used pussy, tracing a path down over her asshole and onto his own balls beneath.
A slow, sated, utterly blissful smile spread across Angela. Her future, her love, was not in some distant, tranquil realm. It was right here, leaking out of her.
"I love you, Alex…I truly do…"