Issei Hyoudou's modest bedroom, once a sanctuary of teenage clutter, had transcended into a nexus of infinities—a pocket realm woven from Elysara's whims, where walls pulsed with the rhythm of distant quasars and the air hummed with the latent spark of unborn realities.
The frost-laced window had long since dissolved into a viewport of swirling nebulae, framing the silent vigil of his sleeping parents downstairs, oblivious to the cosmic dalliance unfolding above.
Elysara, the Goddess of Everything, reclined upon his elongated bed like a deity on her throne of stardust, her form a masterpiece of omniversal allure: raven hair splayed like event horizons, emerald eyes smoldering with the fire of a thousand big bangs, her naked skin a canvas of luminous perfection that outshone every heaven's choir in collective splendor.
His sweatpants lay discarded, his cock—now a monolithic 14 inches of veined, throbbing heat, engorged by cosmic synergy—jutted proudly, the tip glistening with pre-cum that shimmered like liquid starlight.
Elysara's gaze traced it with predatory hunger, her full lips parting in a sigh that birthed a fleeting galaxy in the room's corner, its stars winking out in premature delight.
"You have tasted the source," she murmured, her voice a symphony of silken eternities, each word vibrating through Issei's bones like the first toll of creation's bell. "Now, claim the vessels."
Issei needed no further invitation. He crawled forward on the bed, the mattress yielding like cosmic foam beneath his knees, his hands—callused yet reverent—reaching for her colossal J-cup breasts.
They were orbs of divine excess: heavy yet weightless, skin taut and flawless, veined faintly with rivers of golden ether that pulsed in rhythm with her navel.
Her areolas, vast and rosy like dawn-kissed horizons, cradled nipples erect as diamond spires, each the size of his thumb and begging for conquest.
He cupped them first, palms sinking into their plush fullness, fingers splaying to encompass as much as mortal grasp allowed.
The contact alone sent a ripple through reality—the entire Hyoudou Residence shuddered, foundations groaning as if the earth itself protested the intimacy.
Outside, Kuoh's streets cracked faintly, lampposts swaying like drunken sentinels, while in the distant heavens, Michael's flaming sword flickered, Gabriel's gardens blooming in frantic overgrowth.
Elysara gasped, her eyes fluttering, a soft laugh escaping as micro-quakes rippled across the globe: tectonic plates shifting millimeters, oceans whispering waves against forgotten shores.
Emboldened, Issei leaned in, his breath hot against her left breast. His lips parted, tongue flicking out to trace the areola's edge—a teasing circuit that made the nipple twitch, hardening further under the assault.
Then, with a growl born of draconic need, he latched on. His mouth engulfed the peak fully, lips sealing in a vacuum of worship, cheeks hollowing as he sucked harder—pulling with the force of a black hole's event horizon, drawing forth not milk, but streams of ethereal nectar that tasted of vanilla nebulae and spiced singularities.
Elysara arched, her back bowing off the bed in a curve that warped local gravity, pulling the room's illusory stars into tighter spirals.
The world shook—a magnitude 4 tremor rattling Tokyo's skyline, news alerts pinging on silenced phones worldwide: "Unexplained seismic activity sweeps Pacific Rim."
Angels in the seventh heaven clutched their harps, chords twanging discordantly, while devils in the Underworld paused mid-conspiracy, goblets spilling infernal wine.
Issei's suction intensified, tongue lashing the nipple within his mouth—swirling in tight, fervent circles, then flattening to rasp broad strokes along the underside, teasing the sensitive frenulum where areola met peak.
He nursed like a starving cosmos, teeth grazing the edges just enough to spark pleasure-pain, his free hand kneading the breast's underside, fingers digging into the plush flesh to milk more nectar forth.
It flowed copiously now, coating his tongue in waves that he swallowed greedily, each gulp sending jolts of power surging through him—Phoenix Force mingling with her essence, his cock twitching untouched, pre-cum dripping in pearlescent ropes onto the sheets.
Elysara moaned, a sound that echoed across dimensions: stars birthing in Andromeda, black holes belching Hawking radiation in harmonious chorus.
Her hand tangled in his hair, guiding him deeper, her hips canting instinctively as the suction pulled at strings connected to her core.
The first hour blurred in dual devotion. Issei alternated breasts with methodical fervor—twenty minutes per side, then switching, ensuring neither divine mound felt neglected.
On the right breast, his assault was slower, more teasing: lips nibbling the areola's rim, tongue dipping into the tiny pores as if mining for stars, before ramping to harder pulls that stretched the nipple taut, distending it like a ripe berry under harvest.
The world convulsed in sympathy—California's fault lines groaning, the Vatican bells tolling unbidden, Rias Gremory stirring in her sleep with a gasp, sensing the cosmic disturbance through her bond.
Elysara's body responded in kind: her skin flushing with ethereal rose, veins of gold brightening, her navel vortex spinning faster, birthing phantom universes that fizzled into pleasurable sparks across her abdomen.
By the thirtieth minute on each, sweat—divine dew—beaded on her cleavage, trickling into his mouth as he sucked harder still, his jaw aching from the effort but Gamer's Body dulling the strain to euphoric endurance.
He hummed vibrations against the flesh, low and resonant, the Phoenix Force channeling through his throat to warm the nipple from within, making it throb like a second heart.
Elysara writhed, her thighs parting to reveal her sex: a flawless slit of pink velvet, slick with omniversal dew, lips swollen and parted in invitation, her clit a pearl of creation peeking forth.
"Harder, my flame," she begged, voice fracturing into harmonic layers—soprano pleas blending with bass rumbles that shook the bedframe.
Issei obliged, suction bordering on brutal: pulling until the breast deformed slightly in his grasp, tongue flicking the tip like a whip, teeth nipping to elicit yelps that birthed auroras in the room's dome.
The second hour of breast worship devolved into frenzy. He buried his face between them, motorboating the valley with sloppy, nectar-slicked kisses before reclaiming a nipple—sucking with vacuum force that drew forth geysers of essence, swallowing in gulps that bulged his throat.
His hands mauled now, squeezing the free breast harder, fingers sinking deep into the yielding orb, thumbs and forefingers pinching the neglected nipple in twisting rolls.
The world quaked relentlessly: Mount Fuji belched steam, the UN Security Council interrupted mid-session by emergency seismic warnings, Vali Lucifer pausing his training in a remote Siberian lair, a smirk crossing his lips at the "interesting vibrations."
Elysara climaxed from the suction alone—her body convulsing in waves that rippled spacetime, micro-black holes forming and evaporating in her cleavage, her moans a dirge that silenced birds across continents.
Sated on her breasts—nipples raw and glistening, areolas bruised with love-bites, breasts heaving with handprints like badges of conquest—Issei pulled back, panting, his cock a steel rod of 14 inches, veins bulging like cosmic rivers, the head flared and weeping.
Elysara's eyes, glazed with lust, locked on it, her tongue darting to wet her lips. "Now... the forge," she whispered, spreading her thighs wide, her womb's glow visible through translucent skin—a churning maelstrom of potential, ready to birth or devour.
"Impregnate me, Issei. Fill the All-Mother with your seed. Make universes from our union." Virginity clung to her like a veil—untouched in eons, her hymen a divine barrier of folded realities, her pussy a tight, untouched chalice dripping with anticipation.
He positioned himself, knees bracketing her hips, the bed creaking under their combined weight. His hands returned to her breasts, squeezing harder—palms engulfing the undersides, fingers clenching to deform the flesh, thumbs circling the abused nipples in punishing swirls.
Elysara whimpered, the pressure sending aftershocks through her core. Issei aligned his cockhead with her entrance, the massive tip—broader than three fingers—pressing against her folds, parting them with slick resistance.
The contact alone shook the planet: a 5.2 magnitude in the Indian Ocean, tsunamis whispering threats against atolls, Azazel in Grigori spires chuckling at the "romantic earthquake."
With a primal thrust, he breached her— the head popping past her hymen in a burst of divine ecstasy, realities unfolding and refolding in the rupture, her virginity shattering like glass universes under a hammer.
Elysara screamed, a sound of rapture that cracked the moon's far side, her walls clenching around his girth like a vice of velvet stars—tight, rippling, undead muscles yielding to his invasion inch by agonizing inch.
He sank deeper, 14 inches claiming her depths, the shaft stretching her impossibly, outlining his length against her abdomen in a visible bulge that distorted her navel.
When the tip kissed her cervix—a soft, yielding gate to her womb—the world shattered: global magnitude 7.8, cities swaying, alarms blaring from Tokyo to New York, Rias bolting upright in her mansion, heart pounding with empathetic pleasure through their bond.
For two hours, Issei fucked her with relentless, womb-deep precision, his hips snapping in piston rhythm, balls slapping her ass with wet smacks that echoed like thunderclaps.
Each thrust hilted fully, cockhead battering her cervix until it flowered open, dipping into her womb proper—a sacred chamber of swirling ether, hugging his tip like a lover's fist.
He squeezed her breasts harder throughout, hands mauling the globes—fingers digging bruises into the pale flesh, palms compressing until milk-white skin turned pink, thumbs vise-gripping nipples in twists that milked residual nectar.
The dual assault amplified the quakes: every plunge into her womb sent seismic waves cascading—Himalayas groaning, Amazon rivers reversing flow momentarily; every squeeze or suck-echo (he leaned to nip a nipple mid-thrust) triggered aftershocks, birds fleeing en masse, satellites glitching in low orbit.
The first hour was a breeding marathon of positions, each designed to burrow deeper. Missionary first: Issei folding her legs to her chest, knees by her ears, his 14-inch monstrosity plunging vertically, cockhead breaching her womb on every downstroke, churning her insides to froth.
His squeezes were merciless—breasts ballooning between his fingers, nipples elongated from pulls, her cries birthing phantom galaxies that orbited their joined forms.
The world convulsed in sympathy: Eiffel Tower swaying, pyramids humming with resonant vibrations, Sona's glasses slipping as she jolts awake, a hand instinctively pressing her own restored virginity.
He flipped her to all fours, ass high, her massive breasts swinging pendulously like cosmic pendulums.
From behind, he re-entered, one hand on her hip, the other snaking under to squeeze a breast—fingers splaying wide, clenching to lift and drop the orb in time with his thrusts, the slap of flesh against flesh syncing with global rumbles.
His cock speared her womb directly now, tip nesting in the churning vortex, stirring embryonic potentials into frenzy. Elysara pushed back, her walls milking him in undulating waves, nectar gushing around his base to soak the sheets.
Quakes peaked: Ring of Fire erupting in sympathy flares, Luke and Lila in their veiled realm pausing a chess game, smirks exchanged at the "youthful vigor."
By the hour's end, sweat-slicked and feral, Issei laid her sideways, spooning her divine form—one arm under her neck, the other mauling both breasts in tandem squeezes, fingers interlacing to compress them together, nipples rubbing friction-heat between palms.
His thrusts slowed to grinding rolls, cock stirring her womb like a cauldron, the bulge in her abdomen rising and falling visibly, distorting her navel into a secondary vortex.
Elysara babbled incoherently—ancient tongues of creation spilling from her lips, each word spawning firework universes that exploded harmlessly against the ceiling.
The second hour devolved into pure insemination. Issei's pace faltered, balls drawing tight, but he edged masterfully—shallow pumps teasing her entrance, then womb-deep slams that kissed her core, all while squeezing her breasts to the brink: flesh spilling between fingers, veins throbbing under his grip, nipples purpled from abuse.
The world roared—superquakes chaining across plates, media dubbing it "The November Cascade," Vali laughing mid-flight as winds buffet him.
Elysara shattered first, orgasms cascading: her pussy vise-clenching, womb contracting around his tip in rhythmic pulses that pulled him deeper, juices squirting in arcs that bent light into rainbows.
With a bellow that cracked his bedroom's expanded dome, Issei came—his 14-inch cock swelling impossibly, lodging fully in her womb as ropes of thick, potent seed erupted.
Jet after jet—hot, draconic essence laced with Phoenix fire—painted her innermost walls white, flooding the chamber to overflowing, her belly distending slightly under the volume, a soft swell from gallons-worth of cum.
He thrust through it, churning the load deeper, squeezes on her breasts syncing with each spurt: compressing harder to force milk-like nectar from her nipples, mingling with his sweat.
The impregnation took hold instantly—his seed igniting her womb's forge, a spark of omniversal life conceiving: not one child, but a pantheon, universes budding within her like fertile eggs, her virginity's loss birthing multiplicity.
Elysara wailed in rapture, her climax milking him dry, walls fluttering to trap every drop, the world stilling in afterglow: quakes subsiding to trembles, heavens sighing in relief.
Two hours ebbed, Issei collapsing atop her, cock softening within her stuffed womb, hands gentling on her bruised breasts.
Cum leaked in lazy rivers, but her body absorbed the rest, the swell permanent now—a testament to their union.
As dawn crept through the viewport, Elysara cradled him, her voice a whisper of infinities. "You have filled the All, my love. Our children... they will eclipse gods." Heaven thrummed stronger under her rule, but here, in his arms, she was simply his—V-card gone, womb eternal.
The multiverse? It would never be the same.