Aire can carry her up into that pleasure as much as she wants. Again, and again, and again.

And then, eventually, she makes Tanthe an offer.

"I could help with that. We already know kissing is safe, right? So why don't I just kiss your pussy a bit? Wouldn't that be nice?"

Oh that does sound nice actually. There's a distant sense that this suggestion might be worrying in a different context, but kissing is safe and Aire is safe so it's okay. She attempts to signal an affirmative, mostly through eager squirming.

Aire lays on her back and guides Tanthe to position her pussy above Aire's mouth and bend over to suck Aire's cock. See, this way Tanthe can kiss Aire's cock and Aire can kiss Tanthe's pussy at the same time. Isn't that nice?

And then Aire begins to kiss Tanthe's pussy. She starts with actual kisses, of course. But licks are basically kisses, right? So licking her clit is perfectly safe.

She shudders, and once again long-buried warnings attempt to activate, but with Aire's cock down her throat and her own hand groping her breast and that beautiful wonderful tongue doing such beautiful wonderful things... it's a foregone conclusion. The whisper of something's wrong is lost in the storm of pleasure, locked behind a wall of misplaced trust.

Aire licks away, gently thrusting her cock into Tanthe's throat all the while.

This is so much better now that she isn't having to control her lust to prevent it from activating her aura. She can enjoy Tanthe's pleasure as much as she wants. Or, well, nearly as much as she wants, orgasm is still plausibly a bad idea, but holding back from that is so much easier than the iron control required to stop her lust aura from leaking out. 

Everything about this is beautiful and glorious, and she isn't at all thinking beyond the sensations of the moment, beyond the cock down her throat and the tongue on her clit, except for how she can feel her breasts yearning for more of what Aire gives them and her cunt yearning for—for—something—something that's still, amidst all this, a little too scary to think about—but Aire's mouth isn't scary, Aire's mouth is safe and warm and good and what it gives her is wonderful—

When she comes, she doesn't recognize it for what it is. It feels like just another variation on what happened with her breasts and in her mouth, and those were both good and safe, so this is good and safe too, and she very badly wants more.

Then she can have it. Over and over again. And Aire's arms are long enough to reach down and help bring her over the edge in her breasts, too. It's perhaps slightly awkward to have her hands between Tanthe's body and hers like that, but she thinks Tanthe will appreciate it.

Tanthe appreciates it so much.

The first time Aire manages to give her a triple, in her breasts and throat and clit all at once, she collapses on top of her because there isn't enough attention left to spare for tasks as trivial as holding herself up, or even tasks as critically important as fucking her throat on Aire's cock. All she can do is feel.

It takes her a minute to come back from that. She's in some sense still there, still enjoying the pleasures of her body; she's just not doing anything else.

When she does, the first thing she consciously experiences is the sensation of her achingly empty cunt needing to be filled. She makes one halfhearted attempt to get a hand down there, but the logistics are far beyond her current ability to handle. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a last handful of alarm bells are ringing; but she's with Aire, and Aire is safe, Aire will protect her, she trusts Aire to make sure nothing bad happens. So it's okay, if Aire does—something—helps her somehow—with this incredibly insistent desire. It'll be okay.

When Tanthe has a triple orgasm and her mind collapses under the pleasure, Aire has to hold herself back from orgasming along with her. It's perfect, it's even better than she imagined, Tanthe is there and she's not there at the same time, consumed entirely by her orgasm. Aire has done that to other people, but the contrast between Tanthe's normally buzzing-away mind, acting out complex ingrained reflexes and faintly noticing problems even in the midst of aphrodisiacs, pheromones, and a lust aura and what is there now makes it so much better.

Well, Aire can use one of her hands to help with Tanthe's problem, even if Tanthe's can't get down here. She'll keep one up by Tanthe's breasts to help there.

Since it's safe for Tanthe to put her hands there, and Aire is safe, it should be safe for Aire to put her hands there too, right? No need to even contemplate the question.

Of course, that won't be anywhere near enough to properly help with Tanthe's problem, will it?

It really, really won't. Oh, it feels good, it feels amazing, it definitely increases her pleasure, but satisfying that deep itch? Not even slightly. And the contrast just makes her more intensely urgently needy.

Perfect. Why doesn't she just stew in that need for a while?

Maybe if she does for long enough she'll finally start to fantasize about having sex. How has she not done that yet?

The mental block on fantasizing about being fucked is, in fact, that strong. She stews, and wants, and needs, and comes, and coming doesn't help, and she stews some more, and all she feels is an intense yet uncertain desire for more bigger deeper, more on a sensory level than a verbal one. In fact the verbal parts of her mind are pretty much offline at the moment, and that's probably a good thing; she tends to get more aware whenever they're prompted to function again.

Aire has never wished she had a foot long tongue more than she does at this very moment. How much would it cost, to get a fleshcrafter to give her something like that? Questions for later, regrettably she cannot summon one through sheer need alone.

Wait. That's a good idea. Can she get Tanthe to fantasize, not about being fucked, but about being "kissed" with a very long tongue?

Well, there is the problem of planting that idea in Tanthe's head requiring talking-

Wait. No. Aire's only letting Tanthe, just barely, write to her thoughts, rather than read them. But that doesn't mean she can't let just that thought out from behind her shields to be read, does it? Doing something like that at the same time as she maintains her current contortion of her shields will be hard. But she's transmitted only the fact that she was telling the truth through her shields before, with Christa, and only letting through a mental image shouldn't be too much harder. As out of it as Tanthe is she most likely won't even realize it wasn't originally her thought.

A thought forms in her head and is just barely let through her shields. Aire's tongue grows and grows, extending until it's near a foot long but still very clearly a tongue, and thus safe. Aire kisses Tanthe's pussy, and it wriggles it's way into Tanthe and fills her, satisfies that yearning desire to be full.

Oh she wants that. Oh she wants that more than she has ever wanted anything before in her life. Please can she have that? Please please please can she have that??

Wait, can Aire do that with Sex Magic? Why has she never considered the question of whether she can do that with Sex Magic before? Because it's never been suddenly vital information, and her instinctual sense of what was possible didn't shove literally that exact idea in her head. She has a single digit number of weeks of experience living outside of a cave wherein she couldn't scrape together enough mana to cast a spell because of that horrible etched runecircle. she probably shouldn't be so frustrated with herself for not asking the question before now.

She is anyway, though.

Well, moving on from her high standards for herself to the question of how to do this. It feels like a slightly less natural twisting of the runenode, like it's shaped to apply particularly well to penises, but she manages it. Unfortunately, the cost of this is Aire's cock decreasing in size back down to eight inches. Tanthe's will just have to deal with being disappointed by this.

Aire suspect she won't be disappointed for long. She wastes no time in pressing the tip of her now foot-long tongue against Tanthe's entrance and slowly, gently, pushing her way inside. She's careful not to go too deep, she doesn't want to brush against the entrance to the first of Tanthe's wombs and trigger a sudden realization of the danger she's in.

It's perfect—at least to start with.

But it's just... not... quite enough. Not quite deep enough, specifically, to make her feel as gloriously full as she did with Aire's expanded cock down her throat. And now Aire's cock isn't even expanded anymore, and Tanthe is a very, very, very needy girl. Every inch of Aire's tongue sliding into her cunt is wonderful and glorious and she needs more of it.

And Aire can give her more. Slowly. Fractional inch by fractional inch. Stimulating her clit all the while with the portion of her tongue still left outside.

That slow teasing progression is enough to have her half-collapsed on top of Aire, squirming, swallowing Aire's cock as deep as she possibly can, grinding her crotch against Aire's face and twisting her own nipples in a desperate unsatisfiable storm of multifaceted lust. She isn't thinking about the danger at all, for once; she's immersed in her senses and her desires, fully focused on the slow slide of Aire's tongue, how every individual moment feels better than the last and the next will feel better still.

And it just keeps going. Pushing deeper and deeper into her and flexing her tongue rhythmically to make it pulse.

She should be able to feel something, a difference in texture or pressure, before she collides with the entrance to Tanthe’s womb, she thinks. Tongues are sensitive; she can feel tiny textural differences in her teeth. Well, even if she's wrong, she should be able to recover from it, given Tanthe's formless thoughts.

At the point where it feels like she's probably about to hit that first entrance... Tanthe is still desperately squirming for more. When she feels Aire stop there, her thoughts tumble into a confused heap, unable to process why the best thing in the world has stopped happening. Her mind paws lightly, clumsily, at Aire's shields, crying out a wordless plea.

If Tanthe will let her rub her tongue up against that entrance, wonderful. If she'll let her penetrate it, she's won right here. At some point she's got to try for it, and she doesn't actually think she'll be able to get a substantially more cooperative Tanthe than right now.

She pushes slightly forward, just barely enough to tickle at the entrance to Tanthe's womb.

How does she respond?

A jolt of fear, at first—but Aire is safe, she knows that, she's been clinging to that knowledge all this time, and she's not together enough to realize that she should be trusting her fear more than she trusts someone she met two hours ago, and she wants.

Then Aire's tongue can rub against the entrance to her womb, the tip wandering gently around it.

And then she presses. Not hard, just enough for Tanthe to feel it as pressure.

Is Tanthe still feeling like she wants it deeper?

It's possible that Aire's whole plan would fall apart right here if Tanthe had ever in her life had anything this close to her womb. But the only thing that has ever passed that gate has been eggs, and Aire's tongue feels very different from the way an egg feels coming the other way, and there aren't any lingering alarm bells set to ring if something touches her there because nothing has ever touched her there, she's never dared let herself come that close to disaster.

So, because she's processing sensation and not abstraction, and the sensation itself is so unfamiliar, there's nothing to warn her of her impending doom. All she feels is that Aire's tongue is incredible and she needs more of it inside her right now. The strange feeling inside her only increases that desire.

And so she pushes, and pushes, and pushes, and then, pop.

Her tongue is through.