Bimbo Emblem Chapter 2 - (Chrom)

Robin was woken by the gentle rays of the rising sun filtering through the window. Her eyes flickered open, flinching from the glare, stirring her mind from slumber. The first things to rise from the fog were the memories of the previous night. Exotic magic, sinful transformation and sordid pleasure. It couldn’t possibly have been real, could it?

She tilted her head down, and saw Tharja, face pressed into the plumpness of her bosom, a sweet little smile on her full, puffy lips as she dozed, wrapped in her lover’s enhanced embrace. It had been real after all.

Thank the gods.

She lay there, entangled, for a few more minutes, shifting against her smaller partner, revelling in the simple pleasures her new form afforded her. Everything, from the silky caress of Tharja’s hair to the rough softness of the rug they slept on stimulated her in new, wonderful ways. It never felt so good to be alive.

Soon however, her vision glimpsed a scrap of pink. The tome. It lay just out of reach, forcing her to stretch and lean, eliciting a small moan from Tharja. She looked down to see the dark mage’s heavy lashes part, groggy eyes staring up at her before lighting up in recognition.

“Hey...” She mumbled, still partially asleep.

“Hey.” Robin smiled, bending down to kiss her once more. Tharja gladly locked lips, and they lay there for a blissful minute, tongues dancing in the dawn’s light. Eventually, Robin pulled away, sighing contentedly. “We should get up.”

Tharja pouted, but obeyed, slipping away from her living pillow. It was only then that Robin noticed that Tharja had at some point hooked a finger into her cleavage, pulling down the tube top that had once been her favourite undershirt to bare her breasts to the world.

The old Robin might have been self-conscious. Mortified, even. But the new Robin just giggled, shook her titties a little for her friend’s enjoyment and pulled the top back up to just past her areolae. Why be ashamed of showing off her body when she was this hot?

With that done, she scooched over to pick up the discarded tome, opening it to a page of magical text as she padded toward her discarded pile of clothes. At a glance, it seemed… Significantly more straightforward than before. Putting it down at the desk, she bent to pick up her garments, or at least what they had become.

It seemed the magic had affected even the clothes she’d discarded. Her robe was significantly lighter, more like a silken raiment now, and could no longer close, exposing the entirety of her front. Likewise, her pants and belt had shifted into a short pleated skirt which failed to reach even halfway down her thigh, while her boots now reached all the way to the knee. They also sported the same ludicrous platform heels she’d seen on Tharja, though they now seemed far more attractive than they had before. She had her doubts about walking on them, but to her amazement after slipping them on, they felt as natural as an extension of her body.

As she finished dressing, she gave the mirror a quick pose. Her altered outfit exposed not only a good deal of thigh and a generous amount of cleavage, but also the entirety of her flat, smooth stomach. She found herself loving how much she had on display, cocking her hip playfully and watching herself jiggle.

As she did, she felt a twinge in her nethers. Her panties from the night before, riding up and still a little wet. Slipping them down her legs, she tossed them into the nearest wastepaper basket, fully aware that Tharja would probably retrieve them later for ‘personal reasons’. Instead, she basked in the breezy feeling their absence left, the liberation of going commando feeling wonderfully similar to that of her new frame of mind.

She picked up the tome and turned back to Tharja, who it seemed was far less of a morning person and had barely stood up yet. She rifled through the pages, and was astounded at how easily she could follow it now. It wasn’t instinctual by any means, just that she could logically follow the thread of the dark spell without even being versed in the craft. Was she in fact more intelligent?

As she grew more familiar with the text, it did seem so. In fact, she could see several ways to improve it, cutting out the ritual components and increasing its efficiency. Her mind raced ever faster in the excitement of this revelation, so fast in fact that she grabbed for a charcoal pencil in fear that she would forget every small detail she now saw. After filling the margins of several pages with erudite scribbles, she at last put it down, closing the book and bouncing up and down on the spot with scientific glee, causing a small boobquake.

“You look happy, Robin...” Tharja said as she rubbed her eyes.

“I’ve made some improvements to the spell!” The newly minted bimbo genius squeaked. “Here, take this-” She reopened the book and tore out what had but moments ago been a blank page, now filled from top to bottom with arcane text and diagrams. “-and make another copy. We’re going to need it.”

“And why’s that?” Tharja asked, reaching out for the page anyway from her seat on the ground.

“Because we’re going to spread this as far and wide as we can. We owe it to our friends to let them have a taste of this as well.” Robin chirped, scanning through the book again, wheels in her head turning as she devised a very different kind of strategy than usual. Tharja sighed in response.

“Can’t we just have fun on our own?”

Robin snapped the book shut, clasping it in her off hand, and looked down at Tharja. From the dark mage’s point of view, she suddenly seemed to loom. In her own set of heels she was more amazonian than ever, closer to seven feet tall than six, towering over the floorbound girl. Robin bent over, closer to Tharja’s height, showing a valley of mouth-watering cleavage as she placed a single manicured finger beneath her lover’s chin, tilting her head up until their eyes met.

She held that pose for a moment, letting Tharja wait. The poor girl was practically quivering, both dismayed that such a simple gesture could hold such power over her and so painfully eager to please.

“You’ll do what I tell you to, right Tharja?” She broke the silence in an almost condescending tone, as if talking to a child.

“Yes Mistress.” Tharja replied immediately, attention rapt. She’d never used that word to talk about anyone other than herself before. It was humiliating to be seen like that by her one true beloved, and she hated how much it was turning her on. Robin smiled, tracing the finger to the tip of her willing pet’s chin. Then she uttered two words.

“Good girl.”

Tharja nearly came on the spot.

The tactician giggled with glee at her fellow bimbo’s expressions. It was a rare treat to see Tharja lose her composure. But her brain was still whirring, figuring out their plan of attack. “Now, listen. Here’s what we’re going to do...”

+++

Minutes later, Robin strode through the castle’s corridors with an air of confidence she’d never known before. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor rhythmically, hips shaking and breasts bouncing to their rhythm. It would have been ample cause for anyone passing to stop and stare, but she hadn’t encountered a single one, not even a posted guard that might have questions on why the Exalt’s chief advisor was strutting about the castle at dawn dressed like an expensive whore.

Of course, it did help that she’d written up all their patrol rotas herself less than a month ago, and knew every servant’s name, general level of diligence and normal morning routine down to the minute. Such is the burden of a tactician in peacetime. But in the end, the result was the same. She was Queen of the castle in all but name. And soon, with the help of the tome tucked into her robe pocket, she’d be that too…

That was the plan anyway. Honestly, she’d come up with the plan in the spur of the moment, testing her newfound intellect. Now it was time to execute it… Well, emotion was starting to conflict with logic. It made sense to start at the top, but there was a lot of personal involvement there...

Pushing the unwanted thoughts to the back of her mind, she proceeded up several flights of stairs, moving inexorably towards her destination. Two expertly avoided patrols later, she stood just around the corner from the Exalt’s chambers, currently guarded by a single soldier, bedecked in fine engraved armour and shouldering a spear. She listened to him shuffling in place, waited as he let out a yawn. And in three… Two…. One…

A grandfather clock down the hall chimed, signalling the end of his shift. But the next guard wasn’t there yet, because he’d been for a night on the town, as he always did on Thursdays. The standing guard grunted and shuffled off in the direction of the barracks, knowing his lord found the idea of personal guards distasteful enough to not care in the slightest if he left to get some rest.

She waited for him to round the corner, counting his steps, and quickly dashed for the door, rapping on the heavy bolted hardwood urgently. Faintly on the other side, she heard sleepy sounds of confusion. A deep voice rang out, clearly still half-asleep.

“Hmm? Who is it?”

“Chrom, it’s me, Robin. I need to talk to you.” More noise from the other side, the sound of ruffling blankets and bare feet padding on tiles.

“Robin? Couldn’t it wait until the council meeting? Oh well...” There was the sound of a bolt being drawn back, and the door ground open in front of her, revealing the occupant: The Exalt of the Halidom of Ylisse, the man who had found her unconscious and amnesiac in a field less than two years before, and without a doubt her greatest friend, Chrom himself, in a crumpled baby-blue pyjama suit. His eyes were closed, one hand rubbing over his face as he cleared the sleep from his eyes, his short, cobalt blue hair in a bedhead state. He dropped the hand, revealing the sharp, attractive features that had set so many Ylissean maidens’ hearts aflutter over the years, and looked straight at where he expected her eyes to be.

“Alright, what seems to be the problem-” He stopped short, somewhat surprised that he seemed to be eye-to-eye with her breasts. He blinked, slowly looked up to her face, and blinked again. “Did...” He started, “...Did you get taller?”

Robin smiled and leant forward, whisking herself into the room, moving Chrom out of the way by planting his face solidly between her boobs. He spluttered and reared back, falling entirely into her motion as she spun him around, pushing him against the closing door, his body held firmly against hers.

Robin gazed down at him as he struggled and sputtered, musing affectionately. Before today, she’d never really considered Chrom in a romantic light. He was the general, she was the strategist, and despite their comradery the relationship was mostly professional. She owed him too much to put that pressure on him. After all, he’d found her, given her a place to feel at home and a cause worth fighting for, despite the suspicions and protestations of his loyal knight Frederick. She was truly grateful to him, and now it was time to repay him in full.

“R-Robin!? What are you doing?” He eventually managed, strong arms raised to his sides, defensive but uncertain on where to lay his hands to push her away. He certainly could, he was more than strong enough, but his unwillingness to lay a hand on his friend stopped him. With every passing moment, she felt her affection grow deeper, respect slowly transmuting into love.

“I came here to share something with you, Chrom. Something wonderful.” She spoke slowly, pressing her body ever more closely to his, feeling his lithe form tense against her. Her hands went to his, fingers threading together, holding his hands either side of his head. He didn’t resist, just glanced between them and her in bewilderment, slack jawed at her sudden advances.

“That is not an answer! And what happened to you?” He attempted to pull his hands away, only for Robin to stop him in his tracks by leaning down to plant a gentle yet insistent kiss on his lips.

He froze, his lips immobile for a moment, only to open them in protest, quickly silenced by Robin’s tongue as it darted through the gap to explore his mouth, leaving him powerless to do anything less than allow himself to be ravished. When she eventually surfaced for air, his face was positively rosy with blush.

“Robin, what...” He gasped, unused to this particular kind of exercise. “Please, tell me what this is...”

Their eyes met, and something in those earnest blue orbs made her heart melt. She sighed and backed away, releasing him from her embrace. He stepped away from it, but didn’t move away. He never much liked running away.

“I suppose in technical magical terms it’s a hex.” She started, eyes downcast. “But not like the ones Tharja casts around the camp when someone ticks her off. It’s a spell that brings your ideal self closer to reality, enhancing your body, reducing inhibitions and revealing your true feelings.”

She took a step forward, draping her arms lightly around Chrom’s shoulders, simply wanting to feel him against her, the embrace tender and gentle. As much as she had wanted this to be simple, she couldn’t stop the emotions welling up.

“True feelings…?” Chrom mumbled, still reeling. “Robin, does that mean-”

“Yes, Chrom. That kiss was genuine. Is it really such a surprise?” She blurted out, eyes still averted. “Everything I have now, I owe to you. Friends, comrades… All because you allowed me to stand by your side. Before this...” She shrugged her shoulders, briefly accentuating her bust. “I was content with being your friend, your advisor. But I can’t hold back any more. I want to be-”

“Family?”

She turned her gaze back to him, seeing the wry smile she’d come to adore. In times of war, it had been rare, but seeing it seemed to make every moment worthwhile.

“You know, I would still have listened if you had come on a little softer…” He continued, wrapping his hands around her back, returning the embrace in a way that set her heart racing. He may have been significantly shorter than her now, but he was still strong. Strong enough to make her feel safe, encircled like that. It was also kind of a turn-on, but Robin refused to let that ruin the moment.

“Sorry...” She sighed. “I was just… Kind of desperate.”

“Clearly.” He chuckled, making her pout indignantly. A stray finger flicked his cheek, only causing his laugh to deepen. “Hey, don’t worry.”

“You dolt…” She grumbled. “And you still haven’t given me an answer, you know.”

“Right, sorry.” He coughed into his hand, as if he were about to make a speech. “Robin, I... Can’t say this hasn’t caught me off guard. I’m not sure what to say...”

Her heart sank. For one terrible moment her great mind was wholly overtaken by a deep, dark dread as her eyes glazed over, staring past him. This was a rejection, right? She’d tried to seduce him, given up halfway through to confess and failed on both fronts. She could only blame herself. At best, she could hope she wasn’t cast out of the army...

“...But what I can tell you is this.” Her ears pricked up again at the hopeful words, the deluge of negative thought halting in its tracks.

He stepped back, shrugging off her arms, and took her hands in his. His eyes met hers, a slight rosy tint graced his cheeks, and he spoke.

“There’s no one I trust more than you, Robin. Not one. I can see clear as day that you’re the same woman I know despite all… This...” He gestured vaguely at her form, his blush deepening slightly, “So I’m not sure what the whole story is with this hex, but I know your judgement is sound. I’d be honored to have you stand with me… Forever, if you’ll tolerate me that long.”

It was pretty much all she could have hoped to hear, filtered through his admittedly awkward and confused mind, but his words’ intention was unmistakable. She had to fight the urge to clamp him between her boobs again, to mount him on the spot and kiss him till he passed out, all while holding back tears of joy.

She couldn’t muster the will to speak, so instead she led him back to his bed. She patted the covers, had him lie down and straddled his pelvis, briefly leaning down to plant a feather-light kiss on his lips. She withdrew the pink tome from her pocket and took a deep breath, the bulge she could feel underneath her spurring her on.

“Just lie back and relax. It’ll feel amazing, I promise. And when it’s over, you’ll feel like a whole new man.”

Lines of arcane power began to flow around her as the spell began, and the last thing the old Chrom heard before being overcome by a hot wave of stifling pleasure were three simple words, whispered above the tinkling whine of magic.

“I love you...”

+++

“Guh! Hah… Gods, that was incredible…”

The magic had done a fine job with Chrom if Robin did say so herself. It seemed he’d gained several inches of height, and had bulked out to match, muscles swelling to fit hid frame to seem similar enough to his previous physique, though significantly more muscular. His hair had burst out another inch or too as well, straddling the border between elegantly long and sheer shagginess, much like how Robin remained straddling his pelvis, acutely aware of the rock-hard, magically-enhanced fuckstick that had pressed up against her shortly into his transformation, and had only grown bigger underneath her since. She was pretty sure she had soaked the groin of his nightclothes at this point, she had been trying to concentrate on his expressions of ecstasy, and yet the promise of a deep and creamy dicking unsurprisingly proved quite distracting.

As he inspected his new self, flexing and checking the hereditary Brand of the Exalt on his shoulder, she cast the tome aside, letting it fall closed further down the bed. She lowered herself to her new lover’s body, a hand slipping under the stretched nightshirt, lightly tracing the chiseled lines of his abs. He tensed briefly under her touch, then relaxed, letting her explore him. At the same time, a tentative hand settled on her hip, sliding around to cup the generous swell of her butt. The two looked up in unison, gazes meeting and quickly breaking again, a blush staining both of their cheeks. They knew where this was going, and both wanted it, but their previous relationship was hard to shift, conflicting with their new, magically-gifted instincts.

“I guess… We start taking clothes off, then?” Chrom started, his discomfort apparent.

Robin smiled, still turned away, and began to shake off her robe, while Chrom unbuttoned his shirt. Inwardly, she panicked. This was not the plan. The awkwardness was palpable. The desire inside her was burning like an Arcfire spell, and here they were, fumbling around like young and clumsy virgin lovebirds.

...Well, maybe that wasn’t so far from reality.

Her robe gone, she took ahold of the hem of her flimsy top and pulled it over her head, letting her watermelon-sized, perfectly shaped breasts bounce free. Chrom’s fingers faltered as he stared in awe, pausing in his unbuttoning. Robin cast aside the garment and smiled at his reaction, embarrassment slowly fading, and promptly put his hands to better use.

She pressed her arms together, enhancing her fullness even further as she worked to unbutton him beneath her, his hands squeezing and fondling her chest all the while. She found herself reasonably distracted in her task as well, as Chrom quickly proved a much better masseur than she had, rubbing in slow circles, thumbs occasionally grazing her nipples. She let out shaky little moans as she fumbled about below her, freeing the last button and falling forward onto her palms, letting him latch on to one nipple with his mouth to send a bolt of pure pleasure arcing through her chest.

He kept going, nipping and suckling away, rolling her around on his palms, always gunning for the biggest reaction. Soldiering through the sensation, she managed to open her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw his eyes fixed not on her body, but her face. At her.

She ran an affectionate hand through his hair, ruffling the dark blue strands as she pulled away. He looked slightly disappointed, but soon perked up as she slid down his body, her fingers hooking under his waistband as she stared up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. Tugging it down, she had to take it past the halfway point on his thigh before the object of her desires finally sprang free, leaping straight up to tower over her like an indomitable obelisk.

She simply stared at it for a second, mildly shocked. Chrom did too.

“Uh…” He began to babble, “Was it meant to get that… Long? You said the spell was meant to bring out my ideal self, but I don’t think I ever wished for that much-”

“It’s perfect…” Robin whispered in a hushed tone of awe. Chrom gave an incredulous chuckle at that.

“Well then… It’s all yours.” He reached down to cup her face in his hand, cradling her chin and stroking her cheek with a calloused thumb. “...As am I.”

She leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against her flawless skin. To anyone else it might have seemed tasteless to be so romantic with his cock in her face, but with warm eyes, Robin took it to heart. Her gaze then turned, and she became much more preoccupied with taking it into her throat.

Her plump lips parted, tongue emerging to lick slowly from base to tip, making her man shiver in anticipation. She reared up to the tip, hands snaking up to touch him too, one barely managing to encircle the base, the other cradling his chicken egg-sized balls, feeling the heft of the load she wanted so badly…

With increasing passion, she lay kisses upon the tip, slowly stroking the shaft up and down all the while. First it was a soft peck. Then a flash of tongue. Then a full french kiss. In mere moments she was taking inch after inch into her mouth, tongue swirling about the head as her hands milked the shaft with ravenous zeal.

Chrom’s mind was simply overwhelmed, and he could do little but groan. His hand fell away, bunching in the bedsheets as Robin continued her attempts to suck his soul out through his dick.

“Gods, Robin, you’re incredible...” He gasped, voice straining as he watched her swollen lips do what they were born to do. “I won’t last long at this rate…”

The words did not fall on deaf ears, though that is not to say she slowed down. If anything, it served to spur her on, pushing herself deeper, cheeks hollowing as she enacted vacuum suction, pushing her head down as far as it would go, allowing him to invade the superb tightness of her throat, desperately seeking her thick, creamy reward…

So fierce was her bobbing in his lap that her hands left it entirely, seizing his and wrapping them around the long pigtails either side of her head. A defiant gaze made clear what she wanted, and Chrom felt he was in no position to refuse.

He began to buck his hips into her movements, controlling his pace with her hair, reaching deeper than ever before as he facefucked the desperate bimbo. Her eyes rolled back in bliss as she felt him shove himself deep into her gullet, not gagging once. Despite the pain in her scalp, it seemed insignificant compared to the satisfaction of pleasing her partner, a warm, empathetic feeling that now felt just as important as her own pleasure, if not more.

The effort was appreciated, as Chrom was nearing his climax. He began to grunt aloud with every thrust, sheathing himself deep in his willing cocksock’s throat over and over again, faster and faster, paralysing shockwaves wracking his lower body with sensations of intensities he’d never experienced before.

“R-Robin- I...” He pried his eyes open to look down at her, and saw an image of pure eroticism. An expression of pure, aching sexual hunger. Her face was smeared with spittle and her hair bunched in his hands, but her eyes commanded- No, demanded his seed. And he obeyed.

He thrusted once, twice more, let out a masculine, bellowing groan, and for the next ten seconds his world went white.

+++

A few doors down, another figure was patrolling the castle. Lucina, Chrom’s supposed child, from a ruinous future to aid in the fight against the dark forces that brought it about. On her hip, she carried Parallel Falchion, an exact copy of Chrom’s own ancestral sword, and in one of her eyes was emblazoned the Brand of the Exalt, marking her as being of Ylissean royal blood, as if he blue hair the exact same hue as her father’s, identical fighting style and intimate familial knowledge wasn’t enough.

Dressed in her usual tunic, tights and thigh boots, she had taken it upon herself to rise early and guard the upper bounds of the castle. Despite her knowledge of events yet to transpire in this time, she had been ultimately unable to save Emmeryn, Chrom’s elder sister and the previous Exalt, and was determined to save her father from the coming calamity, be it by fighting at his side or ensuring that no assassins reached his bedchambers early in the morning.

Except… It was rather exhausting.

Lucina sighed and leant against the corridor wall nearing Chrom’s chambers. She was tired, physically and emotionally. Her actions had thrown this timeline she tried so hard to save onto a new path, and now her knowledge of what was yet to transpire was useless. She had only been young when the world around her had been torn apart. So young in fact, that she could barely remember her mother or sibling, who had both disappeared around the same time.

It might have been better to stay detached. It brought her such joy to reunite with her father again, even if just a younger version with no memory of her childhood, but it had made the timeline more unpredictable. Who knew what effects her intrusion had unintentionally caused?

She righted herself and continued to walk, brooding behind her blank, unflappable facade. Still… Was she allowed to be a little selfish? Many of her comrades, children of the other members of Ylisse’s army, had already returned to whichever parents they could remember to fight alongside them. Was she not allowed to do the same? Her father, so warm, strapping and kind, had welcomed her as his own child, even if he had yet to take her mother-to-be as his wife. Here, she felt a sense of belonging that she had thought forever lost to her.

She straightened, her resolve affirmed. The past was of no concern. What mattered now was her decisions, her will to change fate. She would save her father from the mysterious assassin that would one day attempt to steal him from her, and fight by his side against the forces of the Fell Dragon wherever they might appear.

She took another step forward, and found herself within eyeshot of the Exalt’s chambers. The replacement guard had yet to arrive. Despicable. She briefly wondered whether to stand guard herself, only to be interrupted in her thoughts by a muffled groan from the other side of the heavy door. Was that her father? Was he in pain?

In an instant, her ear was pressed to the door, listening for more. As loath as she was to intrude on his privacy, she had to know if he was safe. There were strange sounds she could not fathom the meaning of, but when she heard another shaking, guttural cry, she could hold it no longer. She drew Falchion and kicked down the door, conviction in her every movement.

“Father! Whatever is the matte-” She froze mid-sentence, the image before her without a doubt staying with her for life.

Chrom, naked as the day he was born, muscles tensed and swollen to statuesque proportions, hands bunched in the hair of a lover and face grimacing against the tidal wave of sexual pleasure he currently held against. In his lap bobbed the head of Robin, his head tactician and choice advisor, someone who Lucina eyed warily on a good day, morphed into an idealised feminine figure, lips wrapped around the obscene girth of her father’s manhood as he twitched in her throat.

Both parties were too enraptured by their lovemaking to notice the intruder, frozen at Chrom’s moment of climax, completely still save for the convulsions in his hips and her eager, greedy swallowing. After a long moment, she reared up, gasping for air, a thick layer of semen coating her tongue, and with yet more to come. Chrom gave two last parting spurts, his augmented physiology churning out more than any normal man ever could, both landing in thick ropes over his lover’s face as she lay there, panting with lust, eyes closing in exaltation as the hot jizz painted her fair features white.

Both parties seemed to wind down for a moment, before suddenly registering their visitor. As one, they turned to Lucina, who stood stock still, petrified.

“...Lucina?” Chrom’s eyes widened in shock, paralysed, making no attempt to cover his sticky, dripping nakedness. His daughter’s eyes lingered on his sweat-slicked form for a horrible moment, then flicked to Robin.

Staring right at Lucina like a deer in the headlights, she gulped. Not out of any kind of fear, but to clear the remaining cum from her mouth so she could talk. Her face still splattered with Chrom’s essence, she started:

“I-”

But that was as far as she got before Lucina bolted, not even sheathing her sword before she ran out the door, slamming it shut behind her and sprinting away down the corridor, her face the hue of fiercest crimson.

Back on the bed, the two lovers sat there, stunned. There was a moment of uneasy silence.

“Should we go after her?” Chrom asked hesitantly, surprised at how little the short stint of exhibitionism bothered him, and unspokenly reluctant to leave the bed. Robin sighed, scraping the remnants of Chrom’s orgasm off her face with one immaculate finger and slurping it up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Later. I think we have other things to attend to...” She poked at his erection, which stood proud, still completely hard despite the massive load he had just shot. He looked down to see for himself and chuckled.

“I suppose I could go another round… Or ten.” He reared up, rolling his new companion over on to her back and sliding down to flip her skirt up, unsurprised by her lack of underwear and flattered by her oceanic level of wetness. “And I have every intention of returning the favour...”