Nathan’s shaft still rested against Domina’s cheek.
Unmoving. Just still— as if the two of them were making peace under the pressure of a time that, for some reason, felt sacred.
His shaft was warm and slick.
Domina’s cheek was soft, wet with leftover saliva, and slightly sticky from the humid air clinging to her skin.
That friction... was strange.
Then, Domina’s breath touched it.
Her nose exhaled warm air right onto Nathan’s shaft— slipping through the small gap between her cheek and the semi-hardened cockhead.
Instantly, another wave of warm breath came.
This time, not from the nose.
But from Domina’s mouth.
Warm air, wet and filled with the dew of post-blowjob breathing, flowed softly toward Nathan’s testicles—grazing the twin orbs of masculinity that had long produced the holy liquid. The twin sacs, wrapped in wrinkled skin, twitched gently.
Nathan stared at Domina’s face.
Her bunny ears twitched slowly.
A face so innocent it had no clue how insane the modern world truly was.
And somehow, in the midst of all that...
...he suddenly remembered Livia.
The Caramel Tits Queen, little sister to Caramel Mommy, who once raised her hand innocently and said:
"You can rub it in my armpit!"
which he once thought were just a joke from an innocent rabbit fighter— now felt like a temptation too primal to be processed manually.
It didn’t make sense.
But it was too seductive to ignore.
What would it feel like... to fuck an armpit?
Especially if the armpit was sweaty...
And my shit... was still this wet...
But from an unhealthy kind of curiosity.
The kind of curiosity only a man standing between a paused blowjob and unconditional affection from a saintly Caramel Mommy could possibly feel.
Nathan’s temples started to get damp.
Whether from sunlight or from the fact that his body was slowly boiling from the inside, he didn’t know.
Domina looked at him. Her breath still heavy. The cheek that had been gently rubbed by Nathan’s shaft was now red— not from embarrassment, but from the friction of cock skin that had started to lose a bit of its slickness.
"Nathan..." she whispered softly, barely audible.
Nathan looked at her. His eyes half-awake, like a man freshly pulled from an erotic dream that hadn’t yet reached climax.
His hand moved downward, touching Domina’s shoulder, then slid down a little more.
And then, his fingers stopped.
Domina let out a soft moan, then chuckled lightly, her breath brushing more intensely against Nathan’s shaft.
Her armpit was adorned with small beads of sweat, flowing slowly like failed morning dew.
"Can I... rub it there? I... I haven’t done it there before, r-right? S-so it’s fine."
He was nervous, like a man trying to confess his love in person, after realizing declarations over social media were too naive to trust.
Domina nodded slowly.
"Of course, you haven’t done it yet,
you’re not gonna die mwhe..."
Her laugh was long but weak, not chopped up, just exhaled in one extended breath.
She pulled her cheek away from the rubbing of the Legendary Dick, then knelt upright.
"What should I do?" she asked.
"Ju... just turn around," Nathan said.
Domina turned around, her tall, athletic body making it easy for Nathan’s shaft to line up perfectly with the slickness of her armpit.
She raised her arm. Her armpit opened like a narrow doorway to hidden warmth.
There it was—an intimate space, long overlooked as erotic... suddenly becoming the final altar for a long-delayed ejaculation.
Nathan aimed his private glock— still slick with saliva, sweat, and residual guilt. Slowly, its tip wandered, starting to feel the warm aura of Caramel Mommy’s apocrine glands.
And the moment his skin made contact with the natural dampness of Domina’s armpit—
He let out a soft moan.
Domina’s body heat, mixed with the leftover breath from an unfinished blowjob, created a bizarre sensation:
like rubbing his shaft into a pocket of humidity that didn’t know whether it was part of the body or just another symptom of tropical weather.
He gently lowered Domina’s raised arm,
until his private glock was trapped— pressed in like a war veteran forgotten by his own government.
His hand softly squeezed Domina’s right caramel mound.
His eyes were half-closed.
the sky above the forest seemed to freeze.
and the leaves of the Prunus Vitalis swayed gently— like a child waving goodbye after being dropped off at their grandmother’s house, because the court had finalized their parents’ divorce.
A faint sound, the friction of skin against skin and the pulse of absurdity throbbing at the tip of his shaft, emerged.
With renewed vigor, his private glock slid back and forth— like a soldier unaware that, in the future, the blood he spilled, the comrades he lost, the spirit he held sacred—
would all be forgotten, disrespected, and left unkissed by the glory once promised by the state.
Because of the motion of his private glock,
Caramel Mommy let out a soft chuckle.
"It tickles..." she whispered, turning her head slightly, gazing back at the man she had wanted to protect ever since the first time they met.
That motherly smile returned— striking Nathan’s perverted soul straight in the heart.
Nathan held his breath.
The words echoed from the deepest corners of his being, and a single drop of moisture appeared at the edge of his eyelid.
But his movement didn’t stop.
His right hand slowly gripped the caramel hill he knew too well, ruffling the thin fabric covering it. Warm, bouncy, and slick with sweat.
His left hand rested on Domina’s shoulder.
Gripping gently— not to push her down,
but to stop his own body from collapsing under a kind of affection too complex to be judged by the black and white rules of humanity.
His hips kept moving.
Forward... then back...
His shaft was nestled between the folds of her warm, sticky armpit. A soft, slick sound could be heard— almost like the moan of sweat rubbing against skin.
Domina bit her lower lip. Her bunny ears twitched rapidly— caught between ticklishness, shyness, and an arousal she herself couldn’t explain logically.
Watching his shaft gliding up and down
within the sweaty armpit of Caramel Mommy.
This is so weird... but... euhhmm... it feels good.
His hip movement grew more stable. His breathing harmonized with the forest’s stillness. The wind ceased. Time seemed to hold its breath.
Inevitably the climax brought by erotic friction approached Nathan’s cock.
His thighs slammed into the back of Domina’s shoulder. His hand squeezed Caramel Tit tight.
Domina moaned, her bunny ears twitching.
And in that symphony of lust, the crescendo passed— and the requiem prepared to sound.
It came forth — Aqua Blanc De Cock.