Busty Futanari Witch Marisa's Gensokyo Sex Life Drowning in Semen and Breast Milk - The arousal won't stop — A soliloquy on the night of victory

I won. Still straddling her broom, Kirisame Marisa tore through the twilight sky toward the Forest of Magic. The wind brushed against her flushed cheeks. Her heart was still pounding, charged with the heat of the danmaku game, hammering against the inside of her chest. "Hah... I did it. Today's my win." Saying it out loud let the joy seep through her whole body. That vivid sensation when she'd broken through Reimu's spell card—the moment their magic clashed and flowers of light scattered. The utterly composed face of the Hakurei shrine maiden had twisted with frustration, just for an instant. That alone made all the weeks of trial and error on her new spell worth it. But at the same time, something deep in her body was beginning to heat up. (...Again.) Marisa bit her lip. Whenever her magic ran high, this feeling always came. Not the pounding of her heart—something stickier, a heat that crawled up from the pit of her stomach. Sweat beaded on the hands gripping her broom. Beneath her black witch's dress, her chest and somewhere even deeper were growing hot enough that she could tell herself. "Damn... I need to hurry." She leaned forward and sped up. Below her spread the Forest of Magic like a deep green carpet. A misty forest in the heart of Gensokyo, about five miles north of the Human Village. Dangerous monsters lived here too, but to Marisa it was as familiar as home. Soon, between the trees, the roof of a small house came into view. Her house. Mushrooms sprouted thick along the veranda—a house no one would call clean. But to Marisa, it was the one place in all of Gensokyo where no one could bother her. The yard was scarred with countless black scorch marks from danmaku practice. On the wall, one large burn from a test firing of Master Spark. Debris from her research tools lay scattered everywhere. Her house was as messy as ever. Marisa leapt off her broom and flung the front door open. "I'm home... not that anyone's here." Her own voice echoed strangely loud in the dark room. She tossed off her hat and slid down against the wall until she was sitting on the floor. (Aah, I can't take it anymore.) Her body was hot. Not the exhilaration of the danmaku game—something more primal, more irresistible, scorching the core of her. Marisa knew better than anyone what was happening to her body. —Excess Magic Accumulation Syndrome. For the past few years, whenever her body stored up too much magic, it spilled out from somewhere else like this. Whether it was the price of her talent as a magician, or something else entirely, she still didn't know. Only one thing was certain. This heat came with a bottomless desire. "...I can't tell anyone, can I." Marisa muttered, half-mocking herself. The Hakurei shrine maiden, Hakurei Reimu. Her eternal rival and her friend. Reimu, of all people, must never learn about this condition. That someone as competitive as her had a body this pathetic. She hadn't spoken to her family's shop, the Kirisame store, in years. That stiff, formal household that ran a tool shop in the Human Village. They'd opposed her becoming a magician, and she'd run away—never once gone back. (I can't afford to show weakness.) She rose slowly and walked to her work desk on unsteady legs. Magic tools lay scattered across it—the mini-hakkero among them. Behind them, a scrap of old paper sat carelessly placed. With trembling hands, Marisa picked it up. "...'On the Correlation Between Magic Measurement and Biological Response,' huh." It was a fragment of an old paper on magic research she'd borrowed from the Scarlet Devil Mansion's library. Months ago, she'd secretly taken it out, hoping for some clue about her condition. But she hadn't been able to bring herself to read it deeply. (I'm afraid to know.) What if this condition couldn't be cured? What if something even more terrifying was hidden in there? She quietly tucked the scrap into her desk drawer. (That's not what matters right now.) Marisa let out a deep breath. The heat in her body was already past the limit of what she could bear. The tips of her breasts, rubbing against the fabric, were so sensitive they ached. She felt something thick and wet spilling from between her legs, trailing down her thighs. "...Can't be helped." Muttering to no one, she slowly opened the front of her black witch's dress. Her white apron fluttered to the floor. Next she slid the black one-piece off her shoulders, and her two large breasts—her pride, and the greatest victims of this condition—swayed heavily into view. "...Nn." Her nipples, meeting the cold air, twitched. Marisa lifted her big breasts from below with both hands. Her fingers sank into the soft flesh. Breasts bigger than her head—far more than her small hands could hold. (They're already swollen tight...) A faint white liquid was seeping from the tips. Breast milk. When her magic ran high, her body overproduced milk—and another fluid besides. Marisa pinched a plump, swollen nipple between thumb and forefinger. "Hyaa—!" A sharp pleasure shot down her spine. She pressed down slowly, putting strength into her fingertips. White milk squirted out. A sweet, distinctive smell spread through the room. "Haa... ah..." Marisa cupped one breast in both hands and slowly squeezed from the base toward the tip. Milk overflowed between her fingers, ran down her wrists, and dripped to the floor. (Aah, that feels good...) Touching her own body was routine by now. But today, maybe because of the excitement from the danmaku game, she was more sensitive than usual. Every touch made her body jump, a sweet numbness spreading through her. Without pausing her milking, Marisa slid her other hand under her skirt. Her underwear was already soaked through. When she traced the hot, swollen slit through the cloth, a wet, obscene sound echoed. "...Ah, nn... fuu..." She pulled her underwear aside and ran her fingers directly along her soaked sex. When her fingertips touched the sensitive nub, lightning-like pleasure raced through her. (Here too—already dripping...) Her juices coated her fingers, wetting her palm. Marisa pushed her middle finger into her opening. "Hia—!" The hot, soft walls clenched tight around her finger. She moved it slowly in and out while pressing down on her clit with her thumb. "Ah, ah, aah—!" The pleasure of punishing herself made her head spin. But it wasn't enough. Her body craved deeper, deeper pleasure. Marisa lay back on the floor and lifted both legs high. Then she brought her face toward her own crotch. Her flexible body took the position without strain. (Today I'm going this far, huh...) She timidly ran her tongue along her own sex. "Nngh... chuu..." Her own smell filled her nose. A slightly salty taste spread across her tongue. But more than that, the perverse act of licking her own most sensitive place with her own tongue heightened her arousal even further. Marisa sucked at her clit as she worked her tongue. "Nn—! Haa, ah, yes—!" At the same time, with her free hand she kneaded her breast hard. Milk poured endlessly from her nipple, staining her face and hair. (Aah, what a lewd body I have...) Even as she recognized her own indecency, she couldn't escape the pleasure. If anything, that sense of depravity only pushed her toward deeper pleasure. "Ah, ah, I'm—I'm gonna come—!" Marisa quickened the movement of her tongue and fingers. She thrust the finger inside her hard, sucked her clit strongly. "Nnaaah—!" Her body convulsed violently. Her walls clenched around her finger, and a flood of juices rained down on her face. The pleasure of climax pierced her whole body. (Haa, haa...) Marisa sprawled spread-eagle on the floor, panting. But the heat in her body hadn't subsided at all. If anything, coming once seemed to have stoked it into an even fiercer blaze. "...Hah. So this is the price of magic, huh." She looked up at the ceiling and laughed at herself. (No matter how many times I come, it won't end...) Marisa reached for her body again. Her long night had only just begun. Eventually, the world outside the window began to pale. Marisa lay limp in the sea of her own fluids and milk spread across the floor. Her body was so exhausted that moving a single finger felt like too much effort. And yet the heat deep inside her smoldered on, never going out. (Even when morning comes, it won't end...) She slowly sat up. Her hair, her clothes, her whole body were sticky with her own fluids. The room was filled with a sweet, raw smell. Marisa staggered to her feet and opened the desk drawer. The scrap of the old paper was still there. She picked it up and stared at it. (The truth about this condition...) She held the scrap for a while, but in the end put it back in the drawer. (Not yet.) Marisa let out a deep breath and looked out the window. The morning sun was dyeing the trees of the Forest of Magic gold. "...I'll do it. My way." With that murmur, she stripped off her soiled clothes and changed into fresh ones. Then she took up the mini-hakkero and headed for the yard. Carrying a loneliness she could tell no one about, she resumed her practice of new magic today, as always. The heat in her body had still not faded.

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Name: Busty Futanari Witch Marisa's Gensokyo Sex Life Drowning in Semen and Breast Milk
Author: Novelia

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