Just a little bit more.
Just a little bit more and Al could have maintained his resolve.
Despite always being concerned that the size difference would lead to a less-than-perfect experience, when the passion reached its peak, the centaur girl shed her dual domineering, majestic mantles as the Bloodmother's Chosen and Al's adoptive mother. Her bewitching, stunningly beautiful face was flushed a dripping red, her four hooves trembled, and she turned her hindquarters toward the boy, displaying an inviting posture.
This time, Al ultimately couldn't hold back.
He had originally tried to endure his stiff, towering spear that felt like it was howling in rage, wanting to refuse. Before he grew to a size where he felt he could fill the centaur girl's void, Al had wanted to limit their deep, intimate understanding to other areas and contact "outside the door frame."
But his adoptive mother, her long black hair cascading down, turning her head with a look overflowing with infinite charm and an undeniable gaze of sorrowful longing, destroyed Al's psychological defenses in another way, just as invincible and unconquerable as her martial prowess on the battlefield.
The mad centaur girl...
The hot-tempered centaur girl...
The teasing centaur girl...
The centaur girl who tried to act totally serious but couldn't suppress her shyness as she reminded the boy of her status as his adoptive mother...
The centaur girl who was cold to everyone else, treating them as if they didn't exist, showing only her soft, tolerant, and coquettish side to the boy...
The centaur girl whose red pupils shone, revealing both excitement and desire as she watched the goat mom slowly sit down and sheathe Al's hardness...
The centaur girl who raised her hind legs and horse rump, crouching submissively beneath the boy...
The centaur girl's sorrowful, shy moans... her heavy panting when passion peaked... her sometimes feigned authoritative commands... her broad shoulders, her powerful muscles, all transforming into a vessel of beautiful flesh that accepted and accommodated all of Al's caprices and demands.
When Al, equally burning with desire, tentatively and slowly guided his body inside—parting that soft layer, entering the place whose exterior was tough but whose interior was just as soft—slowly pushing forward until he broke through that barrier, feeling the violent reaction shudder through the centaur girl's entire body, he finally understood a truth:
"Having the courage to try is a good civilization." [Fate/Grand Order meme]
At first, it was extremely narrow, barely fitting a person.
Al once again learned a second aspect where his adoptive mother, the centaur girl, vastly differed from the outward appearance she had initially presented to him.
It completely contradicted her strong, majestic exterior!
Tight, warm, even fiery hot, and highly resilient. Among all the fleshy chambers Al had experienced so far, this was the one where he felt it the deepest.
The boy was naked, while the centaur girl still had a few pieces of decorative armor remaining on her body that hadn't been removed. With both hands gripping her horse hips, which were almost larger than his own body, he gritted his teeth, just as thrilled to the extreme as Alina, driving his body in, pulling out, pushing in, pulling out.
Just over a dozen rounds in, Al was still experiencing the unprecedented sensations gained from his adoptive mother—a pleasure almost solely comparable to that night he forcibly claimed the Paladin. Especially since the former also brought him immense psychological satisfaction and taboo pleasure. Amidst the pouring of desire, it felt as if the person in front of him, using her body to accept Al's spear... his adoptive mother, had removed the words preceding it.
The centaur girl surrendered at lightspeed.
Just over a dozen rounds in, while Al was still gradually speeding up, she let out an intoxicated moan, unable to endure it.
Then Al felt something pour down, even flowing onto his lower abdomen and legs.
The speed of her surrender was so fast it almost brought to mind the Golden Waterway.
Al froze for a moment, his movements stopping completely. It wasn't until the centaur girl caught her breath, began to tremble again, moved her body, and used words that were somewhat slurred but still stubbornly maintained a tough, commanding tone to tell him to keep going, that he continued.
Different from the widow and the goat mom, although his size was sufficient—just at the perfect scale where he could be completely bound and enveloped, allowing both to feel ultimate pleasure—in certain aspects, it was still slightly, just a tiny bit, lacking.
No matter how hard Al tried, he couldn't reach her deepest core. Besides making the centaur girl's body tremble even more violently, letting out heavier pants and babbling, incoherent sounds—even a few times losing control of her body's instinctual reactions, kicking her legs, trying to walk forward, begging for mercy, actions completely unfitting of the centaur girl's image.
A highly formidable... yet in some aspects very weak adoptive mother.
Fortunately, Al had experience.
He didn't let the out-of-control hooves kick him.
The hoofprint on his leg from before had stayed there for days.
Through the entire session, Al was busy running back and forth all by himself. The centaur, whose entire human and horse torso had gone completely limp, collapsed on the floor. Aside from her body's uncontrollable instinctual reactions, she could only let her adopted son do as he pleased.
It actually made Al break a sweat. He had to tend to and manage both front and back; just walking back and forth was exhausting.
It wasn't until he poured his entire first payload of boyish semen into the centaur girl's tight flesh canal that Al slapped his forehead, remembering he should have called the goat mom and the others over.
Even Claudia would have done; having at least one more person to assist would be good. But considering the centaur girl didn't really like the Paladin—viewing her as merely a "useful slave toy that caught my adopted son's eye"—he only called for the goat mom through their mental link, signaling her to bring the other maids.
Then he continued to show "filial piety" to his adoptive mother.
By the time the goat mom arrived with the goat girl maid squad and the human beauty Marlena—who was now a member of the maids—Al, truly embodying the word "filial" through physical action, had made the prostrate centaur girl surrender twice more. Massive waves of warm fluid had soaked the carpet, and a lewd scent permeated the air.
The boy was hugging his adoptive mother's hind legs, slowly pulling out, bringing out a massive amount of white paste mixed with juices.
Goat mom Elune's face instantly flushed red. She had thought it would be just like before, with Al repeatedly pacing around the edge of mounting the horse.
The goat maids followed behind Elune, clustering forward. The somewhat at-a-loss widow, perhaps because she was the only human female present, was slightly panicked. Her body grew soft, and between her legs began to grow slightly damp.
She forced herself to walk over. Before she could even do anything herself, she was grabbed by the boy, pressed down beside the centaur girl, and stripped of her clothes.
Her plump, perfectly round, meaty ass was raised high. The still-unsatisfied Al smacked it once on the left and once on the right, stirring up waves of flesh, and mercilessly mounted her with his spear, thrusting inside.
"Nngh...!"
A beautiful moan escaped the widow's lips. Compared to before, she had pretty much adapted to the boy's size, strength, and temperature, but every time he entered, that intense, melting, depraved pleasure still made it impossible for her to extricate herself.
Al pressed down on the widow. After this period of training, her feel and appearance had developed increasingly toward the lewd flesh that fit his fetishes. Her plump buttocks became a thick cushion and a toy that heightened the fun. This time, Al only focused on his own pleasure, disregarding the widow's endurance. With continuously accelerating, forceful thrusts, he soon made her climax under the extreme stimulation. Her eyes rolled back, her red lips parted as she panted heavily, seemingly losing consciousness briefly.
Then he continued his charge, thrusting and slamming against that incredibly useful, incredibly lewd ass-cannon mount, delivering tonight's third payload inside the widow's body.
"Phew..."
With the delivery of his essence, Al let out a long breath of relief. He stopped his movements and slowly withdrew from the widow's body. A significant amount of white turbidity immediately followed, sliding down the widow's legs and the boy's spear.
"Leave her like this. I'll use her again later."
Al had two maids hold up the legs of the already ORZ-postured (on hands and knees) widow, keeping the unconscious woman in this excessively lewd position.
Then the boy picked up the goat mom, walked over to the centaur girl—whose eyelashes were trembling slightly as she rested with her eyes closed—and set her down.
"Elune?"
The boy reached out, kneading the centaur girl's breasts, while seeking the opinion of the goat mom, who had always taken care of his and the centaur girl's daily life. Sometimes, for the sake of roleplay, he called her "Mom," and he practically treated her as family... a nanny, head maid, anyway, a very important character.
The goat mom raised her hand, gently grasping the still-hot, hard, just somewhat slippery little Al, and nodded gladly.
So Al pressed against her. After a bit of foreplay, he entered the third person's body without any hindrance.
Spells isolating sound and smell had already been cast by him using the power of Revelry. Tonight would be an unforgettable, sleepless night, just like that time with the goat girls. But this time, Al, having gained immense confidence from the centaur girl, was the attacker.
And the goat girls, whose bodies were already starting to heat up and grow soft, were about to bear the Everchosen's wrath for "forcibly extorting" him last time.