#object vore

“Don’t worry,” you reassure him as you untie his pants, letting the dripping member free, “You’ll still get to put your eggs in my belly.”

He moans when he catches your meaning, heady with the taboo rush. You suck the tip between your lips, feeling the prehensile appendage pressing into your tongue. He’s desperate for it, his cock snaking its way to the back of your jaws as you tilt your head back as far as it will go and reach up to pull the back of his thighs as far forward as they can.

You shudder as his cock bullies its way down your throat, growing longer the more worked up he gets. You wonder if the tip will reach all the way down into your stomach. You swallow eagerly to help it along.

He moans and grinds against your face, and you can tell that the first wave is coming by the way he clutches his lower belly. Sure enough the first few eggs slip into his sheath and the rhythmic contractions have them sliding down down down into you. You swallow, massaging their journey from the outside with your esophagus, encouraging them to move faster.

You breathe carefully through your nose, his cock flexible enough to allow air to move around it. You moan with your exhale, encouraging more and more eggs to slip from the safe little pouch inside of him and down into your hungry belly.

It’s heady and a little perverse. His body is just doing what is natural. It doesn’t know that the eggs it is desperately laying are heading into an acid bath. Your throat bulges obscenely with the clumps of innocent alien eggs that pass through you both. You press a hand to your belly, delighted to already feel the flat plane beginning to dome as he lays over and over again into your willing throat.

You begin to feel full as the eggs cluster inside of you, already churning in their new home. You rub your belly and moan, as the contractions begin to slow, the last of his clutch passing into your throat. He slowly retracts his ovipositor, a leaving trail of lubricant over your tongue, your lips as he pulls away. With jelly legs, he clambers over the bed to curl into your side, his large possessive hand over the curve of your stuffed gut. You know the evidence of his laying will last even less time, now that he’s put them somewhere that your body can process them down. You wonder if his unfertilied alien spawn will add any extra to your hips. Your belly groans and gurgles, happily getting to work on the high protein snack. He snuggles you close and watches in fascination as your stomach begins its duty, churning under his broad palm.

The girlfriend very promptly shuts up, however, when her partner points out that the pillow was COVERED in the girlfriend's scent and taste, and how the girlfriend would be SO easy to gulp down later, considering their size difference... so, unless the girlfriend wanted to become food, she'd better shut up.