Atop him, Crystella cried out, “It's happening!”

  Her eyes began to roll back in her head.

  “Oh, for fucks sake!” Okimoto cursed, having not quite built the tension he needed to climax. “Slow down a second, I need a b—bit more t—time.”

  Crystella grunted, “Ugh, it's too late, I'm going to explode! Ah! Goodness gracious! Let's try again after this. I'm not gonna make you force it out.”

  She held on to him as she trembled, their bodies a sweaty, tangled mess.

  The ‘experiment’, as Crystella had called it, was for the two of them to experience a synchronised orgasm. Why Crystella wanted this was anyone’s guess. All Okimoto knew was that he was starting to get awfully sore down there. This was already the fourth attempt.

  While he had done something similar before, he could not easily repeat it with Crystella, as every woman was different and would show different signs at the peak of stimulation. Embarrassingly, it had been him who finished prematurely on the first attempt about two hours before now.

  Wiping the sweat from his brow, Okimoto asked Crystella, who had now collapsed on top of him, “Why is it so important to you that we finish at the same time?”

  Panting, she revealed, “There’s a certain ritual that two or more people can perform during intercourse, it puts us in a lucid dream where we can explore our desires to the fullest extent.”

  “Oh!” Okimoto was stunned. “I’ve heard of this before, but I’ve never bothered to try it.”

  “The ritual is called Sinful Sychronicity,” Crystella explained. “If we successfully pull it off, it will be really fun, plus there’s a benefit to doing it. You’ll be able to increase your aptitude and ether production rate over time by doing it a lot, which I believe will do you a great favor in terms of your career.”

  Okimoto pondered, recalling some of the things he had learned during his studies.

  Curious, He had to ask, “Who taught you about this ritual?”

  “You don’t know Leroid, do you? He studies magical business and finances, as I do. We’ve been having sex regularly, and during one time, he enlightened me to it.”

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  “Leroid?”

  Crystella rose back to sitting atop him, her eyes strolling up his abdominal muscles, dancing around his pectoral muscles, then walking circles around his face, scrutinising his features as she smiled deviously. “I believe he might have some opportunities for you. He works as a Strumpit part-time.”

  “So he’s a prostitute.” Okimoto sighed, folding his arms.

  “A strumpit!” She corrected him, pouting. “He helps frustrated noble women relieve their—their pent-up feelings, you could say. If you ask me, I see nothing wrong with it. This is Toaddor after all, everyone’s got to survive, and he’s not just surviving, he’s thriving.”

  Okimoto raised an eyebrow. “How much does he make?”

  “I believe he often makes up to twenty thousand shingles in three days, that’s two hundred coronus!”

  “Do you know his dorm phone number?” Okimoto asked.

  “Why?” Crystella asked. “You seemed awfully judgmental a second ago.”

  “That was before the money started talking.”

  “Aww, Coronatian men are so adorable when they turn into bastards.” She teased, pinching his cheek. “I do have his dorm phone number. I’ll give it to you only after we succeed. I’m feeling the need again, let’s go, c’mon slip it back in.”

  They were at it again for another thirty minutes, Okimoto singing in his head as he sank deeper and deeper into her majesty’s embrace.All the while that Okimoto was doing this, he made sure to steadily control the tension building within him, to time his orgasm with hers. He flipped her over, reversing their positions so that he was on top and got to work on her breasts, stimulating one nipple orally and working the other with his fingers. She went absolutely feral as they cycled through so many sex positions they must've invented a few new ones. They settled on a position with her ass up and face down. Saddling himself upon the rear of the prostrating horse, as the Andorians would say, Okimoto gave it his all with the last of his strength, a warrior on his last legs. She screamed out a bunch of nonsense, saying he was doing her the best she’d been done in a year.

  Okimoto had only just realised that he'd stuck it in her back door by accident, when she started to climax, arching and pushing up on him. He managed to fire off his water gun too, and for a moment it seemed like the ritual would be performed this time. He closed his eyes and saw the ether around them surge and swirl together, indicating that a ritual was indeed forming, but then his moans of pleasure abruptly turned into howls of bone-shattering pain, his scrotum having snagged in the zipper of her meat bouquet. “Oh, sod it!”

  The cursing snapped Crystella out of orgasmic bliss. Panicking, she tried to crawl forward, yanking his tender parts with her, the white-hot agony inflicted on him by her careless movements making the rumble of his deep voice crack away and reveal the yelps of a little boy. Driven by desperation, he held his breath in with his tears and snapped his fingers three times, shrinking into a spider to escape his wretched ensnarement.

  Looking back at the sorry state of affairs unfolding beneath her massive bottom, Crystella screamed, kicking Okimoto into the corner of the room, his spider body shattering against the wall.

  The dolls came bursting through the door, scanning the room for the threat.

  “No, I’m safe, it’s okay.” She shouted at them, then sprang from the bed to shove away one that was trying to sweep up Okimoto into a dustpan.

  “Are you alright?” She asked once he recovered after drinking a healing potion.

  “I’m fine,” Okimoto said, his head on her lap.

  “I’m so sorry.” She said. “I’m scared of spiders.”

  “Now I’m scared of zippers.”

  She giggled. “Do you want to have one last go at the ritual?”

  Okimoto shook his head. “I’d rather not. Maybe next time.”