Egg Relay 3

The waters in the cave were still as Greta watched the seaweed fall back into place over the entrance. There was silence but for the panting breaths of her husband as he battled with the pains coursing his body. She knew what she had to do, strange as the ritual may be, but she was reluctant to begin. With a sigh she returned her attention to Tristan as the lines of his face smoothed out slightly with the release of tension in his abdominal muscles. He reached out a hand to take hers and pulled her down to the sponge beside him.

“It forges onward, sweet,” he told her gently. “You must do as Cal said. Soon I will not be able to control my instinct, but I do not wish to cause you pain. Prepare yourself.” He could feel the next pressure building, and with it, the increased urge to be within his mate. As he deepened his breathing he briefly wondered how many mercouples had unwittingly entered into this ritual and as a result of their lack of knowledge, has lost the life of their babe. Eyes scrunching shut as the pain peaked, he thought back to the old tales that had been spread throughout his teenage years, warning of the risk of coupling in the first month of being egg laden. It will cause your body to reject the egg, they’d said. The pleasure will traumatize the babe, resulting in immeasurable pain as it dies and is expelled from your body. Well he could certainly understand the tales now as he let out a hissing breath, feeling the egg pressing at the entrance to his tighter canal. His mermanhood hardened at the sudden stimulation and he was compelled to reach over and run the back of his hand against Greta’s merflesh.

Greta gasped and pressed into the caress, feeling herself open up for him. She trailed her own hands down her chest, over her flat stomach to the beginning of her shimmering tail where she paused, hesitating momentarily before reaching just inside her flesh for the button she knew would heighten her pleasure. Rubbing it in slow circles, she shuddered at the sensations. Her stomach felt like a million plankton had been let loose inside it. Suddenly, she needed Tristan inside her. Even knowing that he was in pain the likes of which she had never known. Even knowing that he would be forcing the small egg, the fruit of their passion into her body when he did eventually enter her.

“Greta, I need you,” he moaned, curling around his stomach and grunting. “It’s time. I don’t know how I know, but I know.”

“I am ready for you, my love,” she said sweetly, placing kisses on his brow even as she continued her ministrations. Her other hand wandered down Tristan’s muscled form until it came to his mermanhood. She gripped it in her hand almost brutally tight, eliciting a groan from the labouring merman as he weakly thrust into her fist, unable to stop himself.

“No,” he moaned. “I must be inside you. There is no time for these games tonight.”

Nodding her acknowledgement as an unexplained urge took over her own body, she wrapped her tail around his and guided his thick shafted into her merflesh. He was bigger than usual, which she guessed was a reaction to his labour and a preparation for the passage of the egg. The knowledge did not detract from the bliss she felt at being so full.

“Gods,” Tristan bit out. “You’re so warm and soft, I am jealous of our babe. He will be resting within your womb for so long and I will get but a glimpse of the time.”

Greta nodded and began to rock her body against his, feeling the odd urge flare at the sensations the motions caused. It was almost is if her body was calling to the egg, beckoning it forth.

Tristan felt this calling too. As the next contraction ripped through his body he thrust up into his wife’s merflesh, tensing his muscles and pushing at the lump of an egg caught inside him. He could feel it steadily move forward , widening his passage and his mermanhood along with it. His flesh bulged, not accustomed to the mass that was travelling through him, but he grit his teeth and forced the egg to continue. As the pain peaked he yelled to the ceiling of the cave, struggling to keep his focus, then suddenly the pressure lessened and he was made to stop on a cough, his abdominal muscles, relaxing once more, allowing him to breathe for a moment before they tensed again.

His wife, still rocking and rotating her hips, gasped as she felt the base of Tristan’s shaft grow wider within her. Her body thrilled at the feeling. It is the egg! She felt certain her body was right on this account and she couldn’t help but grind against her husband a little more firmly. “Push hard,” she encouraged between moans and whimpers of pleasure. “I feel it’s progress too. I am ready to receive this great gift.”

“It’s hard,” he gritted, thrusting his flesh deeper. The egg lurched forth and did not slip back this time, allowing him to push hard against the pressure and feel it inch further down his shaft. Greta moaned over him, pressing her lips to his shoulder. “I pray you are not in this much pain when it comes time for your dropping,” he huffed, finding the presence of mind to squeeze her breast as it hung in his face.

“It will all be worth it, my love,” she intoned, sliding her hand between them and hefting his aching sack. “Now give. Push with everything you have.”

“Gods,” he groaned, pushing once more, but feeling his orgasm growing nearer with every idle fondle of his balls. “You’re driving me to madness, Greta.”

“Good,” she replied, realizing just how out of character she was behaving. Her normally submissive nature was being overridden by the need to feel the egg forced deep into her womb. Her inner muscles clenched Tristan’s shaft at the thought and she moaned against his neck. “You’ve maddened me also, Tris. I’ve got to have this egg.”

Tristan gave a hard grunt, feeling her gripping his mermanhood, pulling at the egg. He shuddered, his body convulsing as he felt his seed released from its, but the egg lodged in his shaft meant it had nowhere to go. It was almost as if he hadn’t released at all, he remained engorged and throbbing, aching as he felt the cum drain back the only way it could go. He was so close to orgasming once more that he had to tear at the sponge bed below him to keep from thrusting mindlessly into his mate. The pain was there, yes, but the pleasure infusing his senses was shadowing it.

Greta’s muscles clenched around him once more and the both moaned in ecstasy as the egg moved deep within the both of them. Tristan was met with a searing pain as he pushed harder than ever before and knew that he was – for want of a better term – crowning. The egg had made it to the end of his passage and would soon enter Greta properly. “Keep... milking.... me,” he managed to pant, gripping her lower back and pulling her pelvis flush against his own, forcing himself deeper still, but it wasn’t deep enough. Instinct was screaming that he plunge forward even more. He attempted to press his hips upward but the urge to push impeded the movement. “Press down against me, love,” he urged through gritted teeth. “I need to reach your womb.”

Greta moaned, thrusting forcefully against him. The moment she was as close as she could get Tristan tightened his grip on her back so that she couldn’t move away. “Tristan, I feel it!” she cried. “I feel it pressing into me! Keep pushing!”

“I’ll keep pushing, love,” he panted. “Just don’t stop milking. We’re almost there.” The urge to push washed over him in a seemingly endless wave. The egg pressed forward causing them both to moan in response to the erotic feel. Then Greta suddenly squeezed his sack again, causing him to clench his muscles more forcefully, jolting the egg out the end of his shaft and into his mates womb. “Oh!” he cried as he spurt his seed after it. “Gods! Greta!” She too was gyrating out of control with her own orgasm.

“It is done,” she smiled, long moments later, idly rotating her hips against the mermanhood still inside her. “How do you feel?”

“Sore and empty, but otherwise well,” Tristan replied, stroking her hair away from her face. “How do you feel? I did not hurt you did I?”

“No,” she assured him. “It was a most pleasurable experience for me. And now I shall feel our egg grow with me, making me plump and laden.”

“Oh, it won’t be an egg for much longer,” came a familiar voice.