While Taking Care of My Shut-In Little Sister, I Somehow Ended Up Ejaculating Inside a Beautiful Girl - Chapter 29: Beast, Milky Garden, Rose Flower

Chapter 29: Beast, Milky Garden, Rose Flower

“…? What…?”

Since getting out of the bath, something’s been off with my body. It must’ve started then, creeping in slowly.

At first, I didn’t notice, masked by the warmth from the bath, but even after some time, the heat in my body wouldn’t subside.

While changing, drying my hair, my heart felt like it was pounding harder than usual. The thumping was louder than the rustle of my clothes or the hum of the hairdryer.

Did I overheat? I wondered, but it wasn’t like I was thinking anything dirty, yet I could feel blood rushing to my groin, so that wasn’t it.

My whole body’s burning. A fever? There’s a foggy feeling in my head, kind of like being sick.

But no dizziness.

It’s weird.

“…”

My crotch felt tight. Looking down, my penis was painfully erect, straining against my fresh underwear and shorts, pointing skyward.

It was pitching a massive tent.

“…”

My breathing got rough.

As if dragged by my throbbing groin, desire started taking over my mind.

I want to ravage a woman.

Pound her core until she moans.

Pin her down with my arms and legs, pour my seed deep inside.

Pure, raw lust.

A dark urge to dominate.

Uncontrollable sexual impulses.

Desires I’d call “lust” boiled up inside me.

God… this intense craving is making my head foggy.

Foggy, yet my vision’s crystal clear.

Even now, my feet climb the stairs to my room, each step precise.

My head’s still foggy.

My consciousness is sharp, but it’s like another me is moving my body.

I can even sense my eyes moving less, yet this obvious abnormality feels… irrelevant.

What’s wrong with me? a part of me questions.

Don’t go to your room like this, my reason screams.

She’s there. My girlfriend’s waiting.

But my feet won’t stop.

My head’s still foggy.

My body’s burning. My crotch aches.

I want to ravage, ruin, dominate, pour my seed, make her pregnant—

Desires I normally keep locked away, even from myself and her, are rearing their heads.

But the brakes of my reason are weakening.

I know it, yet my feet keep moving.

I reach the top of the stairs.

My hand grips the doorknob.

My body’s burning. I’m overheating.

My breath feels hot, like my blood’s boiling.

Click.

The door swings open from the other side.

“…♥”

In my vision stands the “woman” I crave.

My heart leaps at the sight of her.

As if she wanted me to come, to be like this, she stands there, hands behind her back, radiating an irresistible scent.

“Being with you, Ren-chan… like this… it’s been my dream forever ♥.”

She takes my hand, pulling me into the room.

My room.

Yet it feels like she’s guiding me into her lair.

Her palm, gripping mine, is as hot as my body.

Not a strong scent, usually faint enough to miss, but now her body’s radiating it intensely.

Pheromones.

A scent that stirs the deepest parts of me, body and soul. A scent that fuels my desire.

Or maybe it’s not even a scent—something that drives me wild.

That’s probably why.

Oh, I get it.

When I realized what was fueling my arousal, I understood.

I’m feeling desires for my childhood friend I never felt as a kid.

Her scent has changed over time.

And my mind, over years, has grown dependent on it, aroused by it.

She’s already filled my room—my nose, my lungs—with her scent, dominating this space.

Over time, we’ve changed—no, we’ve transformed.

“…But it’s not enough. I want more.”

She murmurs.

Before I know it, our feet are heading to my bed.

“Ren-chan… you want more, right…? That’s okay, isn’t it…? ♥.”

“Yeah.”

“—! ♥♥♥”

My foggy head answers almost reflexively.

Hearing my reply, she, now arm-in-arm with me, squeezes my hand briefly.

“Yay ♥♥♥.”

Her breasts press against my arm, making my groin swell even more.

I’m done for.

I can’t hold back.

“Yuu—!”

“Eek! ♥ Ren-chan—mmph! ♥”

We haven’t even reached the bed.

In the middle of the room, I pull her into an embrace, grinding my swollen crotch against her lower belly, seizing her lips.

“Mmh! ♥ Lick… smooch ♥ Slurp ♥ Hah… mmh! ♥ Mwah ♥—”

My concern for her fades, barely there.

As I roughly tangle my tongue with hers, she matches me, kissing back just as fiercely.

We keep devouring each other’s mouths.

“—Hah! ♥♥”

When our lips part, a transparent bridge stretches between us.

“…Yuu. I can’t. Not anymore—”

I’m at my limit. A baseless fear I might break her creeps in.

“It’s okay, don’t hold back ♥.”

“—!”

Her whisper in my ear, the warm feel of her breath, her ragged breathing—it shatters the last of my reason.

“Looks like it worked perfectly ♥♥.”

Watching me, so close our breaths mingle, she flashes a mischievous grin.

“We’re not sleeping tonight ♥♥♥.”

Her words sound like everything was planned.

Like she orchestrated it all.

I feel like she’s given me all the answers.

That’s it.

My foggy head intuitively gets it.

This place—my room—is already…

It’s my lair, but it’s hers too.

With that realization, my reason gives up entirely, stepping back to watch.

I stop holding back my desires, my gaze locked on the center of my vision.

Yuu.

The “woman.”

Her.

“Ren-chan… ♥♥♥”

She calls my name lovingly.

Looking up at me with moist eyes, she wears a melted, sloppy smile, brimming with joy.

“I can’t wait anymore ♥♥♥ I’m ready too, so it’s fine, right? ♥♥♥”

She unbuttons her pajama top, one by one.

Peeking out is a bra, clearly worn to seduce me.

Its vivid red, like rose petals, and luxurious design cover her perfectly shaped, bowl-like breasts.

Her light blue pajamas fall open, revealing the full view of her vivid red bra.

Like a crimson rose blooming on a calm blue lake.

“…”

My throat gulps audibly.

They say beautiful roses have thorns that prick those who touch them.

But this rose has no thorns.

It exists only to entice, radiating a sweet scent.

With its stunning form, slick damp touch, soothing fragrance, melted voice, and sweet nectar, it assaults my senses.

“Ren-chan… come here ♥♥♥.”

“—”

My hands reach for her, almost unconsciously.

Rose petals flutter through the air.

Beneath them, a flesh-colored mound and delicate cherry-pink buds emerge.

Like a beast, I devour her flesh.

At the same time, I reach for the rose petals blooming below, but they teasingly shift, finally dropping to the floor.

Sweet nectar spills and drips, chasing the fallen petals.

It glistens, reflecting the room’s dim moonlight.

The beast has no reason left.

She’s prepared herself as the ultimate prey.

Under the faint light, the aroused beast pins her down, beginning a primal mating.

Reason, ethics, brakes, limits—all shackles fall away.

It’s fleeting, like a momentary dream, almost theatrical.

Drawn onto her stage, the beast thrusts wildly.

Why play the fool?

Everyone dances to lust.

The only difference is the stage.

What you step on to dance—everyone harbors a beast inside.

Sweat beads like pearls on the fevered bodies of male and female.

Raw emotions intertwine, devouring each other, spewing desire.

She writhes, contracting as if to suck the beast’s blood, accepting its seed into her womb.

Her body pulses. The beast pauses with the rhythm, then resumes thrusting.

Preparing seed for the next round.

It doesn’t stop.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoes endlessly.

An all-night feast of hedonistic pleasure, just the two of them.

To the beast, her moans are soothing.

Her touch is comforting.

For her, being penetrated deeply, filled with seed, is ecstasy.

Even the beast’s relentless rampage seems to be her pleasure.

So, everything.

This is their everything.

As if the entire world, the reason for their existence, lies here—within her—the beast thrusts relentlessly.

As if trying to burrow into her womb.

Desperate to dominate it.

Pounding to pry open the deepest hole within her, thrusting upward.

The seed spills.

It rebounds inside her.

In the beast’s arms, she arches, trembling violently.

Of course, the tiny hole at her deepest core—her final defense—remains shut, not yet accepting the seed.

Still, relentlessly prodded, her abs twitch between tension and release, her defense frail.

She clenches the beast tightly, as if urging more seed, resisting faintly.

Accepting while refusing, refusing while accepting.

The beast’s persistent seed eventually overflows, staining their hips, the bedsheets, the floor, forming milky puddles.

But that doesn’t matter anymore.

Even if viscous puddles are stepped on, painting lewd patterns.

The beast and the rose are in a milky garden.

The beast wants to plant that rose in this garden forever.

Wishing it to remain there always.

The rose, too, desires this.

The rose will bear fruit—conceiving a child with the accepted seed.

The lonely garden craved a flower to ease its solitude.

That rose endlessly desired the beast’s seed.

The garden, the flower, will crave the next seed.

When the lonely garden becomes a field of flowers, all wishes will be fulfilled.

The beast plants the rose. The rose receives the beast’s seed.

As if preparing for a destined future, envisioning it.

In a fleeting dream, they intertwine.

Each time their hips part, threads stretch between them, milky and translucent bridges forming.

Their lips connect, and with each breath, they shift positions.

Each shift, the flesh-colored rose blooms, offering itself.

Opening its sweet petals, dripping nectar, tempting the beast with fragrance.

The beast, driven to its peak, fueled by boundless desire, is stimulated again and again.

Parting the petals, invading, the beast thrusts in a fever, enveloped by nectar, climaxing, staining the rose’s deepest core white.

Without pause, the rose opens its petals, revealing its sullied interior.

Nectar mixed with milky fluid drips, making lewd sounds.

The beast, seeing this, surges with yet another wave of primal desire.

As if they’re the only two in the world.

An eternal union.

The beast ravages the rose, but the rose, too, ravages the beast—its heart, deeply, endlessly.

Unchanging love, unending love, a beautiful love surpassing hellish torment, holds the beast captive.

The beast’s thrusting hips are clearly meant to conquer the female.

Yet the rose’s stems and leaves entwine the beast, moves meant to conquer it deeply.

Searching for the most pleasurable way to pour seed, the beast shifts its movements.

Seeking the fastest path to bear fruit, the rose lures with sweeter nectar, stronger scent.

The beast frantically devours the rose’s flesh and petals.

The rose accepts the beast, taking in its seed.

They devour each other.

Madly entwining.

Their lair fills with their heat and scent.

*

“Ngh! ♥ …Ah! ♥ …Aaaah… ♥ Ah! ♥ …Nnh… ♥ Ah, aaah… ♥”

Her moans, barely conscious, like sleep-talking, echoed softly.

I snapped back to reality.

The sky was starting to lighten outside.

Around the time early birds begin to chirp.

I realized I’d been thrusting almost unconsciously.

The lewd sounds—squelch, squish, squish—filled the room.

“—Ohhh! ♥♥♥♥♥”

With a guttural moan at her climax, I drove one final thrust into her deepest core, her cervix, and released.

“—Ugh, ngh…”

The pleasure made my vision flicker. I’d lost count of how many times, but it hadn’t weakened at all.

Thrusting into her depths, enveloped by her hot, convulsing vagina, I was milked dry as I came.

It was a primal pleasure my instincts craved. An irresistible drug.

I thought I was ravaging her, but somehow, it felt like she was ravaging me too—a strange sensation.

But the runaway lust, the total loss of reason I felt before dawn, was gone.

Yet, before me was an unbelievable sight.

“—Ohhh! ♥♥♥♥ …Nghhh! ♥♥♥♥ —Nnh! ♥♥♥ Nnnoh! ♥♥♥ Hhh… ♥♥♥”

The perfect, superhuman beauty, Yuu, was in a state I’d never imagined.

Her long, glossy black hair disheveled, her body convulsing on the bed.

Her face stained with tears, snot, drool, and more.

Her perfect, bowl-shaped breasts, cherry-pink nipples, neat navel, and faintly haired mound—all drenched in milky white.

Even now, as I came inside her, she wore a rapturous expression.

“Yuu…?”

“—Nhhah! ♥♥♥”

“Whoa.”

When I spoke, she convulsed even harder, reaching another climax.

She reacted to my voice, but her sensitivity was beyond normal—it was abnormal.

Concerned, I leaned in to check on her.

…And accidentally brushed her cervix with the tip of my penis.

“Ohhh! ♥♥♥♥ Nnhaaaah! ♥♥♥ …Hah—♥♥♥”

“Sorry, Yuu!”

I triggered another deep climax.

Her vagina clamped down painfully tight.

“Nnnuuuhhh—! ♥♥♥”

“Ngh—!”

Pushed out by her convulsing walls, my penis slipped out with a pop.

“Aaaahhh! ♥♥♥ —Hah! ♥♥♥ Aaaah… ♥♥♥ Aahhh—n… ah! ♥♥♥”

Her vaginal opening tried to close back to its natural tightness but couldn’t fully.

It stayed stretched, proof of my relentless penetration.

Drip. From that gaping hole, an unbelievable amount of milky fluid emerged.

Ooze. Thick, heavy, it slowly dripped down her buttocks, onto the bedsheets.

“No way…”

Now calm, I took it all in.

My mind was flooded with disbelief.

I didn’t even know what to question anymore—my head was a sea of question marks.

How did it come to this?