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-- PREVIOUSLY ON DRAGONBALL Z --
Credit where credit is due; Ravendor might be a crank, but once you start her turning, it's bound to be a fun ride. Her indignancy, which Sel figured was just a cover for embarrassment, melted away fairly quickly once her lover started to focus on painting her various curves, and a smile soon found it's way on to her normally stern face, no doubt aided by the tickling hairs of Selithia's brushes.
And Selithia, for her part, remained surprisingly well focused on the task at hand. Despite being presented with a pure vision of fertility and fecundity, she was somehow keeping her hands to herself, and was busily dabbing baby ducks and bunnies onto the green field that was her lover's pregnant swell.
Ravendor looked down, trying to see what she could with her somewhat limited vision. Her breasts had certainly grown a lot since the last time she took this form, which should have been fairly obscuring, but, as Selithia had noted earlier that morning, she really took the cake for sheer belly mass.
She was somewhat afraid to find out exactly how many she was carrying, in fact, wishing to face the birth blind rather than spend the weeks leading up to it anxiously agonizing over exactly how many of the little bastards she'd have to push out. Not like her lover. Selithia always reveled in this sort of thing, which Ravendor found strange. She always prided herself on being, as she would put it, "a total badass", and Rav had to admit that for the most part, she was. And yet here she was, obsessed with what most would consider the ultimate result of patriarchy; being a proverbial baby factory. How odd.
At any rate, Selithia knew EXACTLY how many she was carrying (twins, in this case), and would excitedly count the days up to her due date. Not out of dread, but out of a sense of competition. On top of it all she absolutely adored going overdue, and seemed to have some sort of record she wanted to beat that Ravendor honestly couldn't recall, if she ever even mentioned it.
Back to the matter at hand, Ravendor was huge. She looked huge, she FELT huge, and most of the time she dreaded how long it would take for this all to be finally over and she'd be back to normal. But sometimes, though she often chided Selithia for it, whenever her lover would pray to the altar that was her pregnant form, she suddenly felt very comfortable and proud of herself.
So it was that, while on the surface she was happy to see Selithia not being a total pervert (even after making them both strip down for this project), part of her was disappointed. Maybe she'd gone past even Seltihia's limitations for gross hugeness?
Before the slightest hint of a frown could even cross her face, she yelped suddenly as fingers tweaked one of her stiffened nipples, standing firm due to the chill morning air and the rapidly cooling paint all over her breasts. She pulled out of her reverie to notice that the green-haired woman had smeared some of the same green paint all over the top of her own swollen stomach, albeit lazily and by hand.
Clearly she meant to put the same amount of effort into painting her own canvas, but in the end rubbing herself over with paint finally lit the fires of Seltihia's perverted pregnant passions back into full ignition. "What good are Easter eggs if you can't go hunting for them, hmm?" she purred as she took Ravendor's right bosom into her paint-coated hand and started to grope, smearing the egg patterns all over.
Ravendor moaned in delight. Here it was! Now she felt beautiful again. Here was her warrior princess, claiming and worshiping her at the same time. Rav couldn't help but smile at the lustful grin Sel was giving her as she got onto all fours and, while crawling towards her, leaned her gently back into the pillows at the head of the bed.
A mania came over Sel and, while trying to maintain a delicate balance on her hands and knees, she kept alternating between hands to rub her lover all over, making a mess of her masterpiece, her hands, and the bedspread. At one point she even cupped Ravendor's face to lean in for a kiss, leaving a green thumbprint on the girl's face.
Let it not be said that this wasn't all very awkward. While Ravendor was the larger of the two in some respects, both women were fascinating figures of fertility. Heaving breasts and massive pregnant bellies rubbed this way and that, never allowing proper mobility or intimacy, but in their own special way, both women still loved every second of it.
Within minutes, Ravendor was absolutely covered in paint, and Selithia herself was coated in patches and blotches that rubbed off of her wife. "We simply must do this again next year," Rav found herself panting.
"Happy Easter, darling," said Selithia, and sealed it with a kiss.
Credit where credit is due; Ravendor might be a crank, but once you start her turning, it's bound to be a fun ride. Her indignancy, which Sel figured was just a cover for embarrassment, melted away fairly quickly once her lover started to focus on painting her various curves, and a smile soon found it's way on to her normally stern face, no doubt aided by the tickling hairs of Selithia's brushes.
And Selithia, for her part, remained surprisingly well focused on the task at hand. Despite being presented with a pure vision of fertility and fecundity, she was somehow keeping her hands to herself, and was busily dabbing baby ducks and bunnies onto the green field that was her lover's pregnant swell.
Ravendor looked down, trying to see what she could with her somewhat limited vision. Her breasts had certainly grown a lot since the last time she took this form, which should have been fairly obscuring, but, as Selithia had noted earlier that morning, she really took the cake for sheer belly mass.
She was somewhat afraid to find out exactly how many she was carrying, in fact, wishing to face the birth blind rather than spend the weeks leading up to it anxiously agonizing over exactly how many of the little bastards she'd have to push out. Not like her lover. Selithia always reveled in this sort of thing, which Ravendor found strange. She always prided herself on being, as she would put it, "a total badass", and Rav had to admit that for the most part, she was. And yet here she was, obsessed with what most would consider the ultimate result of patriarchy; being a proverbial baby factory. How odd.
At any rate, Selithia knew EXACTLY how many she was carrying (twins, in this case), and would excitedly count the days up to her due date. Not out of dread, but out of a sense of competition. On top of it all she absolutely adored going overdue, and seemed to have some sort of record she wanted to beat that Ravendor honestly couldn't recall, if she ever even mentioned it.
Back to the matter at hand, Ravendor was huge. She looked huge, she FELT huge, and most of the time she dreaded how long it would take for this all to be finally over and she'd be back to normal. But sometimes, though she often chided Selithia for it, whenever her lover would pray to the altar that was her pregnant form, she suddenly felt very comfortable and proud of herself.
So it was that, while on the surface she was happy to see Selithia not being a total pervert (even after making them both strip down for this project), part of her was disappointed. Maybe she'd gone past even Seltihia's limitations for gross hugeness?
Before the slightest hint of a frown could even cross her face, she yelped suddenly as fingers tweaked one of her stiffened nipples, standing firm due to the chill morning air and the rapidly cooling paint all over her breasts. She pulled out of her reverie to notice that the green-haired woman had smeared some of the same green paint all over the top of her own swollen stomach, albeit lazily and by hand.
Clearly she meant to put the same amount of effort into painting her own canvas, but in the end rubbing herself over with paint finally lit the fires of Seltihia's perverted pregnant passions back into full ignition. "What good are Easter eggs if you can't go hunting for them, hmm?" she purred as she took Ravendor's right bosom into her paint-coated hand and started to grope, smearing the egg patterns all over.
Ravendor moaned in delight. Here it was! Now she felt beautiful again. Here was her warrior princess, claiming and worshiping her at the same time. Rav couldn't help but smile at the lustful grin Sel was giving her as she got onto all fours and, while crawling towards her, leaned her gently back into the pillows at the head of the bed.
A mania came over Sel and, while trying to maintain a delicate balance on her hands and knees, she kept alternating between hands to rub her lover all over, making a mess of her masterpiece, her hands, and the bedspread. At one point she even cupped Ravendor's face to lean in for a kiss, leaving a green thumbprint on the girl's face.
Let it not be said that this wasn't all very awkward. While Ravendor was the larger of the two in some respects, both women were fascinating figures of fertility. Heaving breasts and massive pregnant bellies rubbed this way and that, never allowing proper mobility or intimacy, but in their own special way, both women still loved every second of it.
Within minutes, Ravendor was absolutely covered in paint, and Selithia herself was coated in patches and blotches that rubbed off of her wife. "We simply must do this again next year," Rav found herself panting.
"Happy Easter, darling," said Selithia, and sealed it with a kiss.
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Hoppin down the belly trail!