Archive of Our Own ^beta

Strategy meetings were vital to an army’s survival. An army wouldn’t win a war if its pieces weren’t intact, Robin knew well.

… But as the lethargic, soulless lump of rolled-up plans and schematics lurched and dragged his way back to his tent in the dead of night, he didn’t particularly feel amicable to the numerous strategy meetings he surely had to attend tomorrow.

Nor did he fondly recall the strategy meetings he had already gone through today. Especially after the 6th straight one; he never wanted to see that wretched wooden table in the war tent ever again as a matter of fact.

Enticing as it was to curl up into a ball against a rock and sleep, his spine would surely thank him later, he knew, if he managed to actually make it back to his pillows, instead of using a nearby rock.

“Oh! There you are, D-Dear!” A familiar voice oozing a familiar amount of adorable, constant nervousness called.

Robin’s tired eyes looked up from the floor, greeted by a sight that made the days of deep discussion and fervent, mind-wracking brainstorming already melt away—

His loving wife.

Olivia’s veteran dancer poise was complemented by her adorable, stumbling nervousness, like a fine wine paired with the most expensive cheese. Her dancer attire, custom-made to house the immensely, obscenely curvy nature of her natural figure wobbled and jiggled in the clothy confines. Her outfit was comprised of a variety of shiny fabrics that scarcely tried to hide her bountiful figure and naughty bits, complemented further by thin veils that clearly did not even attempt to do so . Each inch of carefully padded, lovingly made fabric draped over her body like an exotic dancer, supporting her incredibly large, head-sized breasts while hugging her wobbling, planet-sized, gravity-defying ass cheeks. Each jiggling wad of assmeat was supported by equally as huge, captivatingly smooth and shining thighs, hugged by the same translucent fabrics that cloaked her body. White fabrics performed the herculean task of covering her mountainous assets, the angelic hue of her clothes melding into a transparent, peach-white as it melded with her flawless skin. Olivia’s body was wrapped up gorgeously in her erotically tiny, perfect outfit, the bow on top being the sight of it hugging and showing off the beguilingly tiny waist. 

Olivia would never admit it, but she had the figure of a Goddess. Much too modest for her own good, she’d claim her body was second-rate at best, even though her picturesque proportions stacked upon an impossible erotic waist would make even Naga consider a diet.

The two lovers had grown comfortable in the other's presence, evident in Olivia’s smiling visage as she swept a lock of her pretty pink hair behind her ear, taking her lover's hand into hers with the other. Robin smiled softly, attempting to not let the evidence of his exhaustion seep through the porcelain facade he had wrapped over his face; his smile was true, but he used it to mask how tired he was of his tactician duties. 

At the end of the day, he couldn’t let anyone see how tired he was, even his wife.

But Robin’s visage wasn’t as impenetrable of a fortress as he might have liked. Olivia’s gaze, once a soft smile to serve as an earnest, loving greeting to her hubby, moulded into one of understanding as her eyebrows curled gently. “Dear… Y-You look exhausted.” She commented keenly, her soft, delicately feminine hands rested with his.

“ It’s nothing a bit of sleep can’t fix.” Robin sheepishly laughed. He clearly didn’t believe his own words.

“A-Ah, yes… S-Sleep.” Olivia commented shy embarrassment lacing her words. Olivia shifted about, her knees lightly rubbing against themselves as her immensely curvy assets wobbled with gentle eroticism.

Robin picked up on the rather suggestive nature of his wife’s intentions quickly. “A-Ah… I-If you’d like dear, we can—”

The entry flaps of the lovebirds’ tent flew open, a pink bushel of hair flying out “Mother!!! What is taking so long—”. Morgan called out impatiently, the restlessness smeared upon her pouting lips clear as day. Her annoyed expression froze over in a flash as she was greeted by the sight of her father staring back at her, puzzled before her head dipped back into the tent in a rosy flash.

“... Did he see me????” Morgan asked in a loud whisper.

“Probably…” Another voice from within answered in a judgy tone. 

Robin didn’t even need to peek into the tent to know it was Soleil’s. Those two had certainly taught each other well in the art of getting into mischief, despite their age.

“... Well, I-I suppose you should see the… A-Ah, the s-surprise we have ready for you.” Olivia laughed, much to the chagrin of her seemingly very eager daughter chuckling behind the thin tent walls.

Robin followed closely behind the buxom, radiant beauty that was his wife as she led him, hand-in-hand, into the tent, dipping into the flaps. 

As a tactician, Robin prided himself on his ability to foresee potential roadblocks and anticipate changing situations. Even so, he found his eyes turning to veritable fish bowls as he entered the tent he was so familiar with—

Or at least he used to be familiar with.

As Robin was whisked into the tent, he was greeted by the sights of flashy, sparkly veils draped over the corners of the tent, draped in an oceanic pattern across the walls, riding up and down the walls. The usually boring brown tent flooring Robin had seen so many times was livened and eccentric as sparkling white and shimmering pink fabrics adorned everywhere he looked. His boots were naturally whisked off his feet as he came in contact with the fluffy pink carpet, the sensation of the softness embedded in each fine, love-imbued fibre made him feel as though he had stumbled into the den of some far-off, unimaginably wealthy king—

—And waiting in the centre of the room were the two concubine mistresses, awaiting his return.

Where there should be his modestly-dressed, hood-wearing bookworm daughter Morgan, and his tea-loving, endlessly flirtatious granddaughter Soliel, were now two scantily clad dancers who bore Olivia’s heavenly, unendingly curvy figure with confidence and pride. Their outfits were almost carbon copies of the alluring Dancer of The Shepards in every way, complete with white thigh highs to hug their plump thighs, and thin fabrics that left nothing to the imagination. The sole differentiation was the tailor-made modifications to the chest; even with her children getting more than a fair slice of her world-class, audience-stunning hips and body for themselves, their chests—still impressive in their own right—failed to be even relatively close to the extreme overbust that Olivia sported so naturally, who’s gaze-stealing bust always threatened to spill out of her outfit, yet still always remain hidden.

And as the two, clearly very eager ladies bounced with energy, Robin’s eyes were drawn to the spot where he and his love’s shared sleeping mat used to be… Seeing it now be replaced by a series of large, cushiony pillows and warmth-promising blankets that functioned as the cherry on top for the idyllic, seat of pleasure his tent now was.

“O-Oh… Oh wow.” Robin blurted simply, in a burst of linguistic eloquence.

“Surprise Father!!!” Morgan jumped with a smile as bright as the sun.

“What d’you think? We wanted to make it extra special!!” Furthered Soleil.

“T-That is to say…” Olivia interrupted, passing in front of Robin. Despite her apparent, signature nervousness orchestrating her words, expertise guided her digits, fingernails painted pink as they gently traced over Robin’s forearms, dancing upon his hand.

Robin gulped. 

“We’ve… We’ve all seen how stressed you’ve been from… F-From, well, everything.” Olivia’s hands clasped lovingly onto Robin’s. “W-Which is why we want to… Help get all of that stress out.”

Robin’s mind was still stun locked from the situation he was in. A more virile, energetic man would have lept at the promise of pleasures of the flesh before him, but Robin couldn’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation.

“Y-you don’t need to do something like this for me!! I-I’m fine, r-really I…” Robin’s voice slowly trailed off as the two dancers waiting by exorbitantly fluffy cushions and blankets inched closer, beckoned by Olivia. Their lips glistened in the soft candlelight, glossy like a pink pearl as their half-lidded eyes drew closer.

“I-I’m… Uh…” Robin’s voice continued to evaporate like steam into the air as the full breadth of Morgan and Solieil’s incredible bodies came into full view… Morgan was much bustier than Soliel, despite her somewhat short stature, with her heaving buxom hiding well underneath the usual garb she wore. Morgan’s immense breasts sloshed and bounced with clear, erotic intent as she gently shimmied her chest back and forth, her movements drawing in Robin’s gaze like a moth to a flame. Despite not being interested in her mother’s career as a Dancer, her hips belied the knowledge of a professional as they subtly swung and swished with her model stride.

“U-Uh… Um…” Robin’s voice was barely audible as his blushing visage took in Soliel’s impressively curvy body type. Her breasts were definitely the smallest of the three, but by no means small in any definition of the word. To call Soliel’s body an ‘hourglass’ would be a disservice to the fabric-stretching curves lovingly filling out every inch of the erotic dancer outfit before his eyes. Everything she did made her body jiggle: Robin could see her incredibly rounded ass wobble even from the front, from the slight movements in her hips as she leaned forward oh-so-slowly, and those little smirking giggles would cause ripples in her gently bouncing chest—Robin could almost hear the sloshing of her milk-stuffed teats as if they, and even the whole room, were calling for him to put down his guard.

And so he did.

Robin’s face was pinker than Olivia’s hair, a sight that made the jiggling masses of curves, tits, and erotically plump lips that was his family giggle as they disrobed him. Off came the robe, being haphazardly tossed to the pile of extra, pink pillows in the corner. Off came his boots, and then came off his shirt as pairs of soft, weakness-inducing hands guided him to the mass of comfort-promising blankets and cushions. Robin’s embarrassment ordered him to try and plea to the ladies before him that they needn’t perform anything for him, especially to such a degree. At the time, however, giggling, feminine voices swatted away any shield he could muster, while soft hands dancing upon his scantily clad body melted his guard. The scent and pheromones oozing off the drop-dead gorgeous ladies before him spurred his footsteps; as if he was being seduced by goddesses of fertility made flesh.

Robin was sat down as the pink succubi crowded around him, filling his gaze and peripherals with T and A. 

He could practically feel the steam emanating from his head as he took in the sight of them pawing at his pants as Olivia took charge at the centre, grabbing what was left of Robin’s outfit by the hems as she slowly pulled them down…

“Come on Mother! Hurry up!” Cried the ever-eager Morgan, “I wanna see how big Father is~”

“You gotta learn to take things slow Morgie.” Teased Soleil.

“S-Soleil’s right, dear.” Olivia agreed, huffing like a mother hen. “We have all night… Don’t we, dear? ”

All eyes returned to Robin as what felt like the hundredth flush of embarrassment draped over him like a thrown, wet towel. 

“A-Ah… I-I suppose we do…” The centre of attention sheepishly agreed as Olivia’s efforts slowly brought out the fully erect hulking beast veiled beneath the layers of frumpy clothes.

The three ladies audibly gasped at the virile rod of womb-smashing stud meat that appeared like a roaring dragon out of a cave, as it flopped out and pointed to the sky. Morgan’s eyes were saucers and Soliel covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her gasp, even as her twinkling gaze spoke volumes in its stead. Even Olivia, who was no stranger to the gifted size her husband casually swung around found herself taken aback as her arms retreated to her mountainous chest, marvelling at its jaw-stretching, throat-clogging girth as if she had accidentally woken up a dangerous beast in its own den.

Each reaction was unique. Each was a startling, different level of cock-shock as their eyes traced the lines of painted, veiny cock bulk, marvelling at every throbbing vein as if it was the touch of a master painter upon a canvas.

The crown jewel upon the vein-studded stud rod before them was the pulsating, precum-slicked doorknob prick tip with a visceral shade of red so deep, that it nigh commanded them to gaze upon it, all three of the dancer sluts staring at it like a pack of hungry wolves eyeing down a juicy rib-eye after going a week without a meal.

“Oh my…” Uttered Olivia “... Normally some foreplay would come first, but… I can see just how in dire need you are for some stress relief ❤ ”

Morgan jumped at the opportunity to go first, practically leaping into her dear daddy’s lap. Her face nuzzled against the massive girth of Robin’s well-endowed, inch-gifted cock. She flashed an excited, toothy grin as her massive, heavy jugs rested on her father’s crotch. Morgan was still quite so immature, but her posture had the professional aptitude of a king’s consort as her massive, jiggling ass remained in full view; she wanted her father to have a show along with his meal after all.

Her tongue dragged all across the massive veiny cock, starting generously low as her tongue dragged across his sack, reaching all the way to his bright pink tip. 

Robin shuddered as the breaths of air were milked right out of him, his curved, hardened cock pulsating with glee as she slobbered and lubed up every last inch.

“U-Unnghhh…! N-Naagaaaa above…!!” Robin groaned as he shut his eyes.

“Like that, oh father of mine? Mom taught me how to do this! Seems I got ya on the ropes already—” Morgan smirked mischievously; if she knew it was this easy to best her dear father, she would have started sucking and blowing ages ago. “—But don’t get too comfortable yet~” She continued, taking a quick second to flick her tongue across the underside of his quivering prick tip, her tongue lapping every single drop of precum, “My plan’s already just started!” The little pink tactician stated with resolute resolve as she pushed herself off her father’s lap.

Morgan’s wobbling assets kept Robin’s salivating, gobsmacked gaze fixated wholly on her as she carefully pulled aside the flimsy, sparkling undergarments of her outfit aside, revealing the soaked folds of her drooling cock-thirsting cunt, eagerly awaiting the veiny fuckflesh that pulsated like a holy rod from her father’s crotch. 

“Oh Father~ That last strategy meeting went on for sooooooo long, didn’t it??” Morgan licked her lips with an almost hungry, predatory gaze, unable to mask the intense longing burning in her body for her obscenely hung tactician father. “Don’t worry… We’re gonna get it aaaaaalll out~ ❤ ” Morgan breathed in barely restrained antsiness, proceeding to slam her pelvis down onto her father’s crotch, taking in every inch of her father’s enormously thick, elephant trunk of a cock.

Olivia watched patiently beside the two, taking in the picturesque sight of her dear hubby groaning like a man possessed as her daughter bounced his meat. The mother bit her lip as her arms clung to her chest, as the feeling of her rapidly beating heart overtook her sensations.

“UNNGhHhhHH M-Morgan- OOOUGHhHHNNN~!! ” Robin howled.

Olivia’s nipples began to harden.

She watched closely as her daughter’s massive, swollen tits bounced like sloshing bags of milk, and felt her breath hitch every time her ass clapped against Robin’s crotch as she bounced and bounced like an unrestrained, back-alley, cock-addicted whore.

“OHHH FATHERRRR YESSSS…!!! UNfff…! UNNFFFFF…!”

She felt her crotch moisten the fabric of her outfit, causing her legs to rub together as Robin’s eyes crossed, the poor tactician holding the pillows beside him for dear fucking life as every single inch of his 10-inch, slut-making bitch pleaser was swallowed each time as Morgan continued to swallow up every inch with each bounce.

But despite how Olivia reserved herself to being on the sidelines, she too would be part of the show—

“E-EEP-!!” Olivia squeaked as deviant hands reached from behind her. One of the mischievous mitts reached to pinch her hardened nipples, thin digits encircling her areola to pull on the hardened pink protrusion, while another laid claim to her other breast, viciously sinking into the soft titflesh as it worked to fondle and squeeze deeply as if kneading a ball of dough.

Despite her surprise, Olivia immediately knew who the culprit was.

“S-Soleil??? W-What are y-”

“C’mooooonnn… It’d be so boring if we just sat here! Why don’t we give our dear tactician a proper show~!” Soliel gave a toothy grin, like a tiger taking hold of a helpless doe.

“W-Wait, I— OOOUUuuGHHHH~❤! ”

“Ohhhh Tactician~ Your slutty cow-titted dancer of a wife has got something to show ya~!

Robin’s senses were being treated to a buffet of erotic sights and disgustingly obscene sounds; his ears were caressed with the guttural moans and breathy profanities being howled Morgan as she speared her drooling cunt on her father’s vein-riddled column of a cock. Forming a harmony with his daughter's gorgeous voice was his very own wife, who yelped and squeaked like a field mouse as Soliel fondled and pulled on her fabric-ruining, milk-gorged, sloshing tits. Perfecting the orchestra, was the sight of Morgan heave-slamming her pelvis all across her father’s, taking small moments to gyrate her hips that would make any dancer gasp in awe of her skill—and right next to such a sight, was Olivia’s massive, bra-destroying juggs bouncing and sloshing from the sheer, unrestrained fondling and squeezing coming from Soliel’s perverted digits. Olivia began to slowly arch her back and grit her teeth as Soliel’s vicious groping only grew in intensity, crescendoing with Morgan’s bitch-in-heat wailing.

“Geeeeeeeez Robin… No wonder you picked Olivia as your wife… Just LOOK at these funbags!!” Soliel smirked, continuing her perverted assault on Olivia’s tits. “Ain’t that right Morg-y?”

“UUGHHnNNNGGFFFFFFUUUUUUGGGCCCKKKK DADDYYYYY’SS COCKKKKKKk— IT FEELSSSHHH AS THOO IT’S SPEARInnNGGG mmhhy FFUCKING WOMMBBBBB–!!”

“Whoops, guess she’s a liiiiil busy~ What about you, Robin?”

“G-GGGHhUNNGHH…!!! OoOUUUNNnHhHNnnNNgGhh…! GGhhnnn—NNNUuGhHHHHhhHHHH~!!”

“Whoa hey! Don’t let your eyes roll too far back, you’re missing the show, eh Olivia?”

“K-KKIiiyAHh…!! S-Soleill…! P-Pleeasshhh…! M-My bboobies cccan’t— OOUgHhhh THEY CAN’T TAKE ANYMOOOOOREEE~~❤!! ”

The sounds of deeply held moans of hedonistic euphoria filled the tent with ground-shaking intensity. Robin’s fast-paced groans mixed with his wife’s and daughter’s, growing seemingly louder as every second passed, rocking the very tent itself in a way that made it seem as though it might collapse any second.

“M- MOOORGANN…!! C-CAN’TTT—”

“DO IT DADDY RELEASE THAT PENT UP STRESS INTO MMMMY FFUCKING PUSSSYYYY!! ”

As Morgan hilted herself completely on Robin’s cock, the floodgates finally broke like wood planks against a tsunami. Robin’s fingers dug deeper into the pillows he clutched, outstretching every limb as far as they could go, every single available jolt of energy in his body channelling into the arch of his back as he forced as much of his thick, vein-slathered monster of an erection into Morgan as he could. In an instant, Morgan’s eyes lost all focus, as if her soul had just ejected from her body—in the next, her mouth fell open, drools of saliva hanging from her chin as her stomach clenched as her body forced out an extended howl of heaven-sent pleasure. Morgan could only meekly hold her stomach, barely able to keep herself conscious, as she felt the gallons and gallons of pent-up, yogurty cream be pumped into her .

Drool fell from her half-conscious, dim-witted smile as her brain fried, the sheer rigidity of her daddy’s womb-smashing polearm inside her, keeping her upright.

Morgan didn’t even have the strength to lift herself off the goddess-crafted slab of cock-flesh, simply remaining where she was like a mind-melted, drooling dick slut.

“... Allllllll right, you had your fun! Now it's my turn!” Soliel butted in with enthusiasm, practically shoving Morgan off of Robin’s lap.

“Y-You alright, dear…?” Olivia asked, watching over the swirling-eyed lass.

“Deefffehenitlly tripletssshhh…~” Morgan warbled in mewling satisfaction, holding her hand over her stomach as fat wads of her daddy’s cream leaked out of her.

But while Morgan was allowed to recuperate, the ridiculously over-hung tactician at the centre certainly was not given the same luxury as Soliel eyed up his stallion-shaming slab of meat like it was a delicious feast, the slimy leftovers of his cum and Morgan’s pussy juices slathered all over it only adding another layer of flavour in her eyes.

“Good grief Robin…! Swinging around this fucking club between your legs has gotta be a crime!” Soliel playfully teased the man huffing and puffing before her. “But don’t worry… I’ll keep it a secret… Just as long as you dump a few litres of that cream of yours in me too~”

Robin felt as though his body was a million degrees as Soliel climbed on top of him. He watched with a heart pumping at marathon levels as Soleil tight, wet entrance danced and pressed against his cock head, as if her drooling pussy lips were making out with and slobbering all over his beet-red prick tip.

Soliel slowly began to swivel her hips. “Ooooooo~ Seems like it’s just dying to batter my poor, innocent womb~” She taunted with the amused tone of an elder succubus. “... Good thing that’s what I want too~ ❤ ” She huskily spoke barely above a whisper, proceeding to slide down her tight, moist cunt onto the rigid rod of rippling veins beneath her. 

Soliel expression twisted from pure lust into growing pleasure, like a pot beginning to boil, as more and more of those throbbing inches went inside her. Soliel’s voice heightened as the big fat fucking cock she speared herself on seemingly never ended, the 8 inches already inside her already feeling like a hundred as she felt tingling sensations massage her quivering mind.

But even so, Soliel knew now wasn’t the time to go slow… If she wanted to get a gallon-sized load of that sweet cream too, she’d have to earn it. 

And she had no problem doing that.

The pink merc began to bounce and recoil her hips up and down the slathered, schlicked stallion-sized schlong. Her hands rested atop Robin’s chest, as her rolling eyes faced the ceiling, letting the thunderous CLAP CLAP CLAP orchestrate her movements.

“UnnNNf~... O-OooooHH yeahh… No wonder every bitch in Ylisse was clamouring for y-you—UUnnGgh…!” Soliel strained. “A cock like this could turn any noble lady into a dick-slobbering, ass-shaking whore…! ”

“U-UuUUuUNnGhHH!!!” Robin groaned as he rode the train of unrelenting pleasure, his hands losing any restraint they had as they reached for and began to vigorously grab Soliel’s plush, deceptively thick thighs.

Soliel’s movements were unrelenting, driven by pure, unfiltered lust as her tits wobbled and bounced with her excessive, animalistic bounces atop Robin’s cock. Tiny moans, squeaking past the playful, teasing facade she had as her once dominant lip bite slowly twisted into an act to keep her mewling maw shut. “Unnfff…~ Mmmnnfgh…! Mmnnnghh! MmmnnfffgGGh~!” continuously blew past her defences as she speared herself on the gargantuan, manakete-sized piece of meat that belonged to the army’s tactician. Her voice served as only a secondary instrument however to the ever-louder, schlicked sounds of Robin’s cock sliding in and out of her tight, wet cunt, and Soliel’s own kingdom feast-sized ass clapping with every bounce—as if her massive, castle-sized cheeks applauded and praised Robin’s inhumanly hung size. 

Soliel’s head was spinning as the once energetic bounces atop Robin’s loins grew increasingly unsteady with the passing seconds. “GGhhhUughHH… F-Fuckkkk…! H-How the hell did Morgan survive on this thing??” She asked herself aloud, as the intense pleasures igniting every part of her sapped the strength from her limbs, fighting off the urge to cum on the spot like the shameless slut she felt like.

But the tactician she rode upon was bestial in ways beyond the brutish, horse-cock he packed in his pants

Just as Soliel’s efforts had meekly crescendoed, Robin’s accelerated. The man’s hands instantly reached for Soliel’s hips in a burst of strength and speed that elicited a gasp from every woman in the room. In the following instant, he practically lifted Soliel, bringing her almost to the tip of his cock, before slamming her back down instantly, balls deep.

“ OOOUUUUGGGGHHHHHHGHHh~~!! ” She bellowed in deep pleasure. “R-Robin, you dirty, nasty ~-” She attempted to tease, only to be met with the same act again as Robin began to forcibly bounce her up and down on his massive spire of a cock again and again. 

Soliel’s hands balled into fists as she groaned and moaned deeply, drool falling from her slack-jawed visage as an endless stream of purring and profanities poured from her like an open faucet.

“F-Fuckkk… F-F-FuuHhUUCKK… OOOgH hHHH GODDDDDDD~~! ” As Robin forcibly stretched the poor girl’s aching hole, manly, schlicked inches burrowing deep inside as the sounds of wet sex filled every particle of air in the tent.

With a final slam, Robin arched his back as he attempted to shove in as much of his fat rod as possible, his teeth grit in intense pleasure as he let out a breathy “NGHhUuUUUUuGHHhNNN~!” followed by the multiple litres of cream Soliel had asked for, straight into her unprotected womb.

The two were frozen in the moment as the sounds of an immensely sloppy impregnation bore fruit, small rivers of thick batter sliding down Robin’s balls and dripping onto the tent floor from the sheer, immense volume and thickness of the ooey-gooey love he dumped into her.

“Heh… Heheheheheh… Morgy’s gonna be jealous when she w-wuh-wakes up… I-I’ve… Deefffehenitlly got quadrupletssshhh…” The little, pink, dazed merc slumped beside the barely conscious Morgan.

While the two continued to claw themselves out from the alluring abyss of falling asleep, Robin was still wide awake… And he turned his sight to his dear wife.

“A-Ah, I suppose it’s my turn an—” Olivia was stopped dead in her tracks as a wet sloppy kiss was forced onto her lips, forcing her eyes wide open. The intensity of his desire was in full force, she could feel, as his devious digits reached for her hips, pulling her body further into his.

As the kiss broke, the two simply stared into each other’s eyes, hot breaths filling the space between them.

“P-Please… B-Be gentle with me, my lov—” 

But in this state, there was no such word in his vocabulary. 

With all the decorum of a feral wolf let loose in the chicken coop, Robin flipped Olivia onto her back, placing her among the many pillows where he had been as his shadow loomed over her. 

Olivia's breaths were hard and deep, forcing her massive tits to wobble and sway with every rise and fall of her chest as she spread her legs for her lover.

Robin practically tore off any garments that robed the unendingly bountiful harvest that was Olivia’s body. As he kneeled down, he pressed his stiff, gigantic prick tip against the soft flesh of her drooling pussy, the warmth of her insides calling for the girth of his raging, battle-hardened cock, slathered and dripping wet with saliva, pussy juice, and cum from the the conquest of the two women—literally—behind him. 

It took only a half second more to then ram the entirety of his 10-inch manhood balls deep in her. 

“OOoOOOOOOUUGHHHHHHhh~!! R-ROBINNNNNN~!!” 

Olivia screamed as Robin began to jackhammer his immensely over-sized cock into her, putting her into a powerful press. His forearms rested beside her head, hands curled into tight, veiny fists as his muscley, fine chest pressed against the vigorously jiggling mass of bouncy titflesh that wobbled and bounced with every one of his powerful piston thrusts. 

Every thrust was borne of power, and sheer, unbridled lust let loose, powered by an intense, almost instinctual desire; every fibre in Robin’s body told him to fuck and breed.  

“NnFGgHh…! UNnghhh…! NNFfggHhhhh…! GGhHnnffggh…!” Robin grunted like a beast possessed.

“NnGGhHHhh… *CLAP* GGhhHhnghh!! *CLAP* GGHhhnnnngghhhhahaAAAGHHH, FUCK…!! *CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP* GODDDD YOU FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD OLIVIAAAAA~~!!”

Olivia was immediately reduced to a moaning mess that could do little more than hang on for dear life. Her hands gripped Robin’s back, her nails nigh clawing at the poor lad’s sweat-drenched muscles, her gigantically squishy thighs, and dainty calves straddling his hips to keep him locked in with her, as if she was begging to be bred like a sow; Morgan had always wanted a sister.

“HHHAHHHGGHHNNNN~!! UNnGghh, Uunnghhh!! OOOo OOOOGHHHHH GODS ROBINNnNnNNN…!!! RAVAGE MY POOR DEFENSELESS WOMB AS MUCH AS YOU NEED MY LOVEEEEEEEE!!!” Olivia screamed to the heavens above, feeling as if the very continent of Ylisse itself was shaking from the lust-bound force imbued in every single thrust of Robin’s endless pelvic thrusts. 

“UnNGHHHHHHHH….! I’LL FUCK ALL OF YOU DAY AND NIGHT, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT????” 

“YESSSSSSSSS USE US AS YOUR STRESS RELIEF MY LOVEEEEEEEEE ” She answered instantaneously without a second thought.

Robin’s drooling mouth huffed and puffed as his vicious thrusts clapped against Olivia’s gigantic, wobbling cheeks, creating palpable waves in the pretty pink dancer’s pale globes with a strength that would wake up the people from Valm with the sound alone. Robin’s teeth gritted as his core tightened, proceeding to settle his drooling mouth onto Olivia’s plush, pillowy lips once more as he gave her a big, sloppy, wet kiss in an animalistic display of claiming her as his.

All that was left was to consummate the occasion—the consummation of Olivia, Morgan, and Soliel as part of his sexual relief crew.

“GHHNNNGHHHHH I’M GONNA FUCKINGG— OOOUUUGhHNNGHHHHHHHGGFFFUCK~! U-UNNnGhHHHHHHHHHN-NAGA ABOVEEEEEE…~~!! ”

A complete tsunami of creamy white jizz assailed Olivia’s warm, waiting womb, causing the woman to scream her lover’s name, taking every other vowel to briefly inhale as she strained her lungs to proclaim his claiming of her, Morgan, and Soliel. Tiny thrusts plapped against Olivia’s squirting cunt as Robin ensured as much of his cum was dumped deep inside of his dearly beloved. Even so, much of it began to splash out—not from carelessness, but from the lack of room within Olivia’s filled womb, Robin’s massive hosepipe of a cock dumping gallon after gallon into her extremely curvy body.

And as he pulled out, he still had more yet to give.

As he quickly lifted himself off of his wife, laying on her back like a bred sow, he began to stroke and spray the ending remnants of his orgasm over his wife, as well as over Morgan and Soliel—

It was his duty to show the importance of sharing.

Rope after rope of creamy cum sprayed onto Olivia’s bare tits, droplets of thick cream raining down onto each of his sluts’ bodies, all three of them drunk on Robin. Soliel meekly held out her tongue as her reeling body twitched, catching stray strands of semen atop her tongue, Morgan instead opting to feast upon the delightfully sweet batter her father had gifted her tits by sucking on her own breasts. Olivia could only delight in the creamy rain of cum by relishing in the sensation of its warmth, holding her stomach as the gallons of cum he had saved up just for her now swam inside her.

But as all good things come to a close, so too did Robin’s orgasm, and the seemingly endless torrent of cum.

Robin was completely out of breath; he felt exhausted but…

He couldn’t doubt the method. He felt rejuvenated. In a sense.

… And also very thirsty.

Robin quickly slipped on his pants, not even bothering to put on a shirt as he shambled out of the sauna heat fogging the insides of the tent.

However, he didn’t get far. Only a single footstep, in fact, before he felt familiar presences behind him, grab him by the shoulder.

“Didn’t you say you were gonna “fuck us all day and night,” Daddy?”

“Yeah! Better keep that promise, heheh~ ”

“L-Let us take care of you more, dear~ ”

Before the tactician had even a chance to formulate even a single vowel, he was pulled back into the tent, the flaps closing behind him in an instant…