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Hentai sadist sex and fisting p 8 min Hentai Video World - 1. Twillight Hentai Part 1 p 20 min Denimixi - True, it does mean straying into the territory of one of the most dangerous monsters in the Commonwealth, but surely you, as a decent human being, ought to do your best to maintain the ideals that once made your country a wonderful place?

Perhaps that's a question best avoided for now. At any rate, you make fast tracks; it's only a quick drop-off, so you're travelling light.

Good for moving fast, and good for outrunning the local monsters if they try and have a go at you. The sun is dwindling now, moving to dusk, and night-time isn't the best time to be moving into Deathclaw territory.

But you're almost there, and the quicker you drop off this egg, the better. A mountainous ridge rises before you, and as you scamper to the edge, you check your Pip-Boy and confirm that, yes, this is the place; the nesting site near Parsons Creamery.

There's sign of any life, and perhaps that's a good thing. Carefully, you make your way down the ridge into the canyon below, and stealthily creep over to where the nest was reportedly found.

Dead trees stand tall here, and this is the stench of rotting flesh that has your nose wrinkling. You've gotten used to the smell of death over time, but it's still irritating.

No other predator would be so confident, so powerful, as to leave their nest out here surrounded by bones and flesh; every other creature would be too afraid to come close.

Except you apparently. Well, you're honestly kind of shit-scared, but as you pull the delicate egg from your back, holding it close to your chest as you creep ever closer to the nest, you hope that maybe the parent is sentimental enough to appreciate the return of its brood.

Emphasis on hope. But so long as you move slowly, move carefully, maybe you can be done and out of here before anything ever knew you here And then, mere metres from the nest, your luck runs out; a vicious snarl sounds, echoing across the canyon, and you freeze in your tracks, glancing around fearfully for wherever the sound came from, only to realize it came from above you.

And not just a humanoid disposition, but quite a feminine one too. Sure, there's nothing human-like in the horns, the claws, the digitigrade legs, the tail, the armoured skin, but her face is certainly human-like, even pretty, with plump lips, a cute nose and short spiky hair on her head fairly reminiscent of a young tomboy.

And the body, damn, it's curvaceous. The powerful thighs shift to wide hips that curve lovingly into both an excellently rotund rear and the luscious waist up to the torso, but to be honest you can't see much of the torso is hidden behind possibly the biggest breasts she's ever seen in her life.

Huge grand mammary glands paler than the rest of the beast, sloped down her chest, tipped with dark nipples and looking so damn inviting that for a second you can't think of absolutely nothing but those gargantuan jugs.

But she doesn't rip out your throat. Though she stands tall and tense, probably eight feet or so, with claws flexing and lips pulled back to bare lethal fangs, she doesn't pounce upon you, bite your head off, claw your guts, anything.

She just stands there, tail waving to and fro tersely, staring you down with blank yellow eyes and the faint growls from her shuddering throat.

It seems like she's waiting to see if your intentions are good or bad, if you are returning her egg to her or if you are a thief caught in the act.

One might save your life; the other ensures your death. Either way, the time to act is now. Slowly, carefully, with the monster watching your every move, you hold out the egg ever so carefully towards the nest.

You move a bit closer, keeping your own eyes on the mother whilst trying to avoid meeting her gaze which isn't too hard, considering her wide hips and large breasts are much more appetizing sights and a bit closer still.

She doesn't move, just continues to glare at you, and then you're close enough to the nest that you can gently set the egg amidst the dirt and twigs, and then you slowly back away a few steps.

Hope springs eternal; maybe this will ensure your survival. The Deathclaw immediately moves in as you move back, sharp clawed feet scraping the ground, before leaning down to examine the egg.

She gives a soft rumble as she nuzzles at it, surprisingly gentle for such a powerful creature, before her massive claws gently push dirt and twigs over the egg, sheltering it snugly as she growls gently to it, the very image of a doting parent.

Alright then, she seems pretty happy to have her egg back; perhaps you ought to just keep backing away and make a run for it before she might- Her horned head jerks up, yellow eyes lock onto you and she snarls again as she rears to her full height with impressive speed and a jiggle of her hefty bosom, and you freeze in place, both terrified and distracted.

Not the best combination in the world, but really, it's be expected from beast with breasts as gratuitously large as her claws and hips as curved as her jagged horns.

She leans in a bit, huffing slightly as her gleaming eyes examine you. You try not to look her directly in the eyes again, since you've often heard predators tend to see that as a challenge and react aggressively, focussing more on how her breasts hang down from her chest, but you glance at her now and then with fearful submission.

Just be passive, just be still, and she won't see you as a threat, or hopefully not as a meal either. The monster leans in again, her eerily human-like face close enough that you could lean in and kiss her if you wanted- wait what?

Anyway, she's extremely close, warm breath exhaling out near you with a rather meaty scent, and she sniffs at you curiously.

Growls rumbles in her throat as she continues to get an idea for your scent, huffing through her nose with each inhalation she takes.

It's a little bit unnerving to get smelled by a Deathclaw, and a little uneasy in case she might pick up the scent of your meagre but present arousal, but it's better than being mauled.

Her yellow eyes are dimmed in consideration, body rather still as whatever thoughts she's thinking flow through her horned head.

You just stand there and wait, sort of just staring at her cleavage with the occasional nervous glance at her claws. What is she thinking?

What does she plan? Is the return of her egg enough to convince her to let you live? So many questions, but then you lose track of them, because the Deathclaw does something you'd have never expected in all your wildest dreams; she gently settles herself down on her rump, tail flicking behind her, and she spreads her muscular double-jointed legs, completely and shamelessly exposing the pale slit of her vagina to you.

Amidst the pale scales it stands out as a puffy rim around darker brown fleshy folds within, gleaming softly with fluids and tipped with a small clit, and holy shit does it look amazing.

You stare at her vagina with utterly disbelieving wide eyes, that utterly enticing and glimmering pussy sitting between potent legs on those wide hips, before turning your gaze to her own eyes.

She doesn't smile or anything, but there seems to be an inviting edge to her own eyes, and she gently moves lethal claws down to spread the rim of her cunt wide, the other hand slowly beckoning you to it.

It's an utterly inviting gesture, a completely open display of her sex clearly designed to appeal to you, and her forked tongue flickers out playfully before she jerks her head back towards her next a bit.

You understand now; this is how she intends to reward you for returning her egg to her. How utterly generous, especially when she could have just torn your head off.

Seems the moral sentiment has paid off today. Licking your lips, you tentatively approach her; yes, she is stunning hot, a total monster girl with huge tits and her pussy right there waiting for you, but she's still a predatory beast who could bite your hand off.

Something tells you her offer is genuine, but you're cautious nonetheless. You kneel down about a metre before her, getting a closer look at her cunt.

It looks pretty much like your own pussy, barring the obvious differences of being bigger and being dark-brown in colour rather than pink, and there is a potent scent of arousal that floods your nostrils and strikes a reptilian lust inside you.

Perhaps she'd expected you to just leap onto her like an animal, but you have a touch more sense than that. First and foremost, you want to satisfy another little desire.

You move in closer, leaning upwards, and then your hands grasp at her breasts. The Deathclaw gives a low rumble, eyes gleaming as she assesses your touch; she seems a touch surprised that you'd opt to take her teats first, but you just can't help it.

Such huge and potent tits are just begging to be felt, and feel them you intend to. They're softer than expected, but maintaining a kind of firmness unlike mammal breasts, as if her scaly disposition was reinforcing them somehow.

Despite that, your fingers dig into them pretty easily, feeling the hefty flesh mold around your eager little fondlers. She's not entirely warm, possibly due to reptilian physiology, and hefting up such large breasts is quite a feat, but they are oh so satisfying.

You find you're drooling a little as you run your hands around the predator's bosom and licks your lips; the love for boobs never changed.

She seems to like it, giving these kind of soft rumbles, and that relieves you a bit as you continue to play with her rack. You squeeze at the orbs with an eager fervour, squeezing her firm flesh oh so gleefully.

Your hands shift down, under the impressive teats, and jiggle them up a little bit, before sliding round the sides and squeezing them together. That coerces a more prominent growl from her, a more guttural sound, and you know full well that you're getting her pretty into it; seems boob-play wasn't something she had much fun with, and so you seek to show her more of it.

You grasp at her nipples, hard and erect amazing just how similar they behaved to human breasts and pinch at them gently, seeing exactly how she liked it.

Her body shudders and the beast gives another guttural growl, flicking out her tongue as her blank yellow eyes gleaming in approval.

You grin at her, delighted at how she's liking having her tits played with, and impressively, she mimics gesture, pulling her lips into a rather cute smile that seems to light up her face.

Like she's not a monster, but a simple girl learning how another girl can make her feel good. A nice sentiment, but let's not get distracted; you have more fun in mind.

You lean in and grab the right nipple in your mouth, lips locking around it and sucking it and as much of the surrounding flesh in as possible.

Immediately, you feel the most intriguing tastes dance over your probing tongue, a kind of a mix between leathery and meaty, yet rather appealing, and you can't help but moan softly as you simply savour the taste of her teat.

In turn, the Deathclaw trembles at the sudden wet warmth clasping her sensitive bud, and she gives off the faintest little whimper of pleasure.

You've never heard a Deathclaw whimper before. It's an exotic sound, surprisingly feminine and gentle, and you decided you want to hear it again.

Jiggling them in your hands, you suckle harder still, making the monster feel oh so nice as you greedily mouth and fondle her rack.

You tease her nipple with your tongue, flicking it up and down, clench it in your teeth to draw a pleasured squeak from the predator, and resume suckling with much relish.

My, this was unexpected; the Deathclaw was lactating, emitting a slow flow of watery milk into your mouth in tune to your sucking. A moment to pause, to let it flow onto your tongue and let you see how it tasted.

Ooh, that was good. Let's get some more. You suckle fervently at her tit, squeezing it roughly to force more of this luscious milk out, swallowing it down with a rather gratuitous greed.

But hey, it's good milk, it's revitalising, it's not radioactive; it's perfect, and you wish you could just drink it forever.

Her other nipple is also producing some milk with your other hand's fondling, globules of the stuff leaking out of the hard bud and enticingly dribbling down her smooth slope, and you promptly detach from the right tit, gasp for air, and then latch onto the left, determined not to let the other flow go to waste.

The predator is groaning and whimpering more potently now, more frequently, clearly getting off on you drinking from her.

She must have her motherly instincts getting oh so nicely satiated right now, the saviour of her egg sustained on her milk, and she gives her growling coos and purrs as you drink her milk down like a desert dweller who found an oasis.

Her milk is so good, her left breast every bit of lusciously tasty as the right, and with more milk to offer you.

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