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The guys had gotten real rowdy by the time Rocket found which bar they'd crawled their way too. The bar was dingy and smoke-filled and crawling with the dregs of society, by which he meant, his crewmates. They were sitting around a table in one of the bar's many alcoves along with a half-dozen strangers. Peter was, for some reason, stripped half-naked and twirling his shirt above his head, howling, and Drax was staring fixedly at a hand full of cards. Thor and Korg had their cards on the table, which... this wasn't poker, but Rocket thought that meant that Drax was winning whatever game they were playing, if he was still in it. Interesting, but not what he was after.

It wasn't that Rocket was miffed for not being invited, since the less time he had to spend around these losers the better, but they had shit to do and he couldn't really ditch them all on some backwards spaceport in the ass end of nowhere.

Some cards got revealed, and there was assorted groaning around the table. Thor shrugged off his mantle, as Korg reached one craggy hand to his belt, tossing it aside. There was a general stripping of clothing all around the table, aside from Drax.

"Are you idiots playing strip poker?!" Rocket demanded.

"Rocket!" Thor cried out, among the general commotion in response to his appearance. Thor was also apparently pretty drunk. "I don't understand these little cards!"

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter. We gotta be off-planet by tomorrow morning, and you assholes made me drag my sorry tail halfway across the spaceport."

There was some generalized drunken grumbling from the table, and none of them immediately moved to listen to him.

"Why even strip poker? Just show each other your dicks and jump to fucking. What a waste of time," Rocket grumbled, and Peter let out an excited 'oooh'.

"We should try that!" He said. "It's team bonding!" Before Rocket could even ask, Peter had jumped up, hands on his belt, unbuckling fast.

"What--" Rocket started, as Peter yelled over him, way loud: "I always wanted to compare dicks!"

Peter was a really hands-on, touchy-feely kind of drunk, Rocket was learning. More surprisingly, more than a few of the other guys seemed to be into it: looking at each other before going for their own dicks.

Rocket let out a haggard sigh. "Man, what kind of queer-ass shit is this. You plan on doing anything with those or just jerking each other off all night?"

"It's team bonding!" Peter said, dick already in hand. He was half-hard and lining up his dick against some nameless thug's he'd probably never see again in his life.

"Peter says it's team bonding," Drax said, hauling out his own dick -- Peter's drunken "Starlord!" ignored behind him -- and slapping it down on the table. Korg ooh'ed in appreciation before taking out his own. What had Peter fucking started here.

"Fuck, put away your little needle dicks, nobody needs to see that," Rocket groaned, and Thor apparently took that as a challenge. He stood up, swaying a little, and unbuckled his belt.

"It's true," he said. "Nobody here could defeat me in this challenge!" He fished out his dick and let it slam down on the table with a thud that sent their tankards rattling. Peter's jaw dropped. Rocket quirked an eyebrow. He had to admit, Thor's Asgardian dick absolutely dwarfed everybody else -- he was ruddy and half-hard, if the sight of his fat, fleshy foreskin visibly creeping across the warped wooden table as his dick lengthened was any clue. Maybe a solid two feet or so of dick, which was a pretty decent showing.

"Wow," Peter said, still staring at Thor's dick as he talked to Rocket. "Yeah, I mean, you just don't want to do it since you know you'd lose." He brayed out laughing like he'd just made the funniest joke.

Let it never be said that Rocket had good self-control. This whole situation was moronic, but he was gonna have to get out the big guns. By which he meant his dick. He leapt up onto the table, scattering cards and toppling beer steins, delicately avoiding his tail brushing against Thor's meat log that he'd left resting atop the table, cockhead nearly reaching the center.

"I'll show you idiots what a real cock looks like." Rocket sighed and shrugged off the shoulderstraps of his jumpsuit, peeling the thing down his front until his chest was bare. Peter crowed, leaning in so far he nearly toppled onto the table and landed on Thor's dick. In fact, more-or-less everybody around the table was staring at him. What a mess. He reached down into the waist of his jumpsuit and pulled. And kept pulling. His cock lurched free with a rolling thunderclap sound of displacing air, sheath flopping up cradled in his arms, as broad around as his entire body. He hauled it over the rim of his waist and let it flop down onto the table, where it landed with a table-rattling thud, vibration knocking over what few glasses hadn't already been toppled and pouring a wash of spilled beer across his sheath. Rocket grimaced. It was gonna be a bitch to wash himself off after this.

All told, his sheath was just as long as Thor's dick and even fatter around, and this was him totally soft, not even unsheathed.

Everybody was staring at him: eyes wide, mouths hanging open. "If you kids are done playing with your tiny peckers, we got shit to do," Rocket said. "Except you Thor, your dick's basically fine."

"No way," Peter said, hands reaching out like he wanted to touch him to make sure, and Rocket slapped away his hand.

"No touching, not unless you plan on doing something with it." Peter's ruddy flush deepened, spreading down his chest as he stared fixedly at Rocket's dick. To be honest, seeing all their shock was pretty nice. It didn't really bother Rocket what anybody thought he was packing, since, well, his sex life was better than anything they could imagine in their most fabulous dreams, but seeing them all aghast, humbled in front of his giant dick, well-- it felt nice.

Maybe too nice. His cock lurched, sheath pulsating as his cock pushed forward, letting his cocktip lurch out into the open. It was padded by his bulky sheath, thankfully keeping the weighty tip from scraping directly against the old splintery wood of the table, but Rocket couldn't miss how everybody's gaze jerked immediately to his unsheathed cocktip: deep purple-red, mottled and splotchy as its lumpy, furled ridges slopped out of his sheath. Somebody let out a groan, shaky and guttural, and then -- Peter and somebody he'd never met in his life lurched forward across the table, face-planting in his dick as they moaned and groaned, slobbering across his cock.

"Are you really gonna--" Rocket started, cutting off in a shaky exhale as one of them dragged his tongue up across the swell of his cocktip, letting the entire thing lurch hard -- loudly banging the table against the floor as it tilted from the force of the motion -- and spit out a grimy spurt of silver-grey pre that they immediately went for, sloppily making out as they spat and gurgled, sharing his rank pre back and forth until their faces were a slathered, frothy mess. Rocket sighed. Show a guy a decent dick for the first time in his life, and they just went crazy. "Fuck, and I'm the one who's gonna be blamed for the mess," he said, watching more guys join in: kneeling down as his cock unsheathed in gurgles, spilling out over the end of the table. Hands reached out to feel across his sheath, just smearing the mess of spilled beer and his own pre into his fur.

Thor at least seemed a little composed. "How--" he said, staring at Rocket's jumpsuit, stretched down under his sheath, absolutely not big enough to fit anything.

"Space compression," he said, peeling the fabric away to show off the shimmering mesh of blue triangles worked into the jumpsuit's interior, curved into hyperbolic space. His balls still stuffed the mesh to the brim, cradled tight in the warped space. "Bigger on the inside. You kidding? I can't even walk with this thing out--" he slapped the side of his sheath, his own cocktip already out of his own reach, forming a heavy, drooping arch that there were currently-- three, four, five, five different guys kneeling in front of, hands tugging on his shaft, mouths pressed against his slimy flesh. He'd gotten one of them good with his first spurt of pre, and he was dripping and glazed, hair soaked to his skin, slimy cords of glistening grey pre spilling down his body. Some of the other guys were focused on him, just lapping up Rocket's pre from his bare skin.

Thor groaned, hands sliding up the coarse flesh of Rocket's sheath before he dug his fingers inside, shoving his hand and then his arm into the pocket of warped space. He tipped forward, face mashing against the sweaty fur right at the base of Rocket's sheath, and Thor groaned, sloppily lapping across his fur, cock humping the table, as he cradled one of Rocket's balls in his arms. He hauled backwards, space displacing with another muted thunderclap as he lifted Rocket's ball up and let it loll out across the table, half-dragging his other ball out into the open. Thor's cock pulsed, adding Asgardian pre to the mess staining Rocket's fur, and he buried his face across the stretched flesh of Rocket's sac, moaning and groaning as he lapped into Rocket's thick fur, fingers digging into the ball that was as broad as his entire chest.

Rocket just sagged back, letting the bulk of his own dick support his weight; the thing was an anchor. "You assholes really gotta head back to the ship," he said, then sighed. The entire table was in a frenzy: guys leaning over the table, faces pressed into Rocket's fur or smearing across his shaft, hands groping and stroking. Drax and Korg were on their knees, hands bracing the drooping arch of his cock as it spilled off the end of the table. One of them groaned, a mess of cum splattering out across the underside of his shaft in ropes, and Rocket just rolled his eyes. No staying power. The rest of the bar had taken notice -- their table had been rowdy and obvious before anybody'd whipped out their dick. Guys were already creeping closer, hard lumps in their pants, fingers clenching as they imaging stroking Rocket's dick. What a mess. But, like he said-- he was gonna make sure he got off from this, even if it took the rest of the night.

"Alright," Rocket said. "Listen up you fuckers. Thor here--" he clapped a hand on Thor's shoulder, and Thor blearily looked up from where he'd been slobbering and sucking on Rocket's pre-soaked sheathflesh. "--is the only one who could take my dick and not die, and I'm getting my dick into something tonight, since you all made me whip it out. So everybody clear off my cocktip and let him have it."

Thor's face lit up in a sunny smile, like Rocket had just promised him all the jewels in the kingdom. He made his way around the table, his own mammoth cock leading the way, bobbing in front of him. He pushed between Drax and Korg -- both still idly stroking the sides of Rocket's dick -- and went down on his knees, face-to-face with Rocket's lumpy animal cocktip. He leaned in, inhaling deeply to savor the rank scent of Rocket's cock, and opened wide, tongue spilling from his mouth like he was an eager dog. Thor slobbered across his cocktip, lips dragging over the animal lumps and swells, and Rocket groaned, head lolling back as he hunched forward. He wasn't kidding about being anchored in place: the full weight of his thrust jolted his cock maybe a half-inch forward, smacking the tip against the roof of Thor's mouth, before he stumbled over his own balls and rolled backwards again.

Thor groaned, tongue lapping up and down over the bloated bulk of Rocket's cocktip, both hands stroking his own cock. His eyes fluttered shut, closing out all sensation aside from -- apparently -- his joy in sucking on Rocket's giant dick, and as Rocket stared Thor tipped forward, jaw opening wider and wider as he struggled to cram Rocket's cocktip into his mouth. To be clear, Rocket's cockhead was about the same size as Thor's head. He made some progress: sharp tip jabbing against the back of his mouth, lips stretched impossibly around the enormous bulk of his slimy flesh. Rocket groaned, cock twitching, and he erupted with a burst of pre that immediately flooded Thor's mouth. Thor choked, pre squirting from his nose and spraying out around his stretched lips, painting the first foot-or-so of his cock in a slimy layer of dripping pre. Pre spilled down Thor's body: soaking his hair to his skin, outlining his chiseled muscles, smearing across his own mammoth of a cock.

The entire bar was clustered around them by this point. Rocket sighed internally. Didn't anybody know anything about privacy? Any time Rocket whipped out his dick it was the same story: a host of glazed-eyed guys jerking off watching, cumming untouched just from getting to see his dick. He knew most guys had piddly little dicks, but come it. It was absurd what the sight -- and smell, and taste -- of a real dick did to them. Two dozen hands reached out, cupping and stroking along his shaft, some guys leaning out over the table to mimic Thor: kissing and licking across his pre-slimed shaft.

Thor was by far the standout, though. He pushed himself deeper, lips stretching wider, jaw distending further. With a cracking sound like wet wood warping, Thor's jawbone stretched, unhinging from his skull as he opened his mouth an iota wider. His throat surged, flesh stretching in rubbery jerks. Eyes closed, a rapturous expression on his deforming face, Thor stuffed Rocket's cocktip down his throat.

"Ah, fuck--" Rocket groaned, cock twitching again, and this time Thor took the full brunt of the spurt, a half-gallon or so of pre surging straight down his throat in a rippling swell and settling into his stomach. That alone gave him a bit of a paunch, sloshing and gurgling as Thor fucked his face onto Rocket's cock. The guy was still trying to sink more down his throat. Wet squelches and slurps came from Thor's wrecked mouth as he pummeled his head down onto Rocket's man-sized cock. His throat lurched and warped, flesh distending in pressurized swells with each gush of pre Rocket pumped straight down into his bloating stomach.

Fucking hell. This clearly wasn't the first time Thor had taken a big dick. Rocket never would've guessed he was the type, but now that he knew -- Thor's throat clamped down on his shaft, milking out another heavy plume of pre. Rocket groaned and swore, uselessly jerking his hips forward to saw a half-inch of cock through Thor's warped throat. But now that he knew, it was gonna be real nice sharing a spaceship with the guy.

Also, Thor had a talented throat, but there was no way in hell he was gonna manage to take more than a foot or two of Rocket's dick down his throat. Thor gurgled around his dick, throat warping in time to Rocket's heartbeat. Seeing Thor rapturously enjoy sucking his dick, Rocket was tempted to just give it to him -- let Thor choke and gag on his cocktip until he finally managed to get him off -- but, well, he wasn't actually that nice. He wanted Thor's ass.

"Gimmie your ass, Thor!" Rocket said. Nobody ever said he was subtle. Thor just gurgled more, eyes still closed, blowing fat glossy bubbles from his nose as his warped jaw spasmed around Rocket's greasy, mottled cockhead. Eventually he dragged himself back, cock pulling free from his throat with an obscene squelch. He dizzily shook his head, one hand coming off his cock to massage his busted jaw. His jawbone slowly warped back into place, sluggishly reshaping his face now that he didn't have a head-sized cock shoved through it. It was impressive what an Asgardian could take. Rocket was real interested in seeing what his ass could take.

"Get up on the table, man," Rocket said, patting the wood surface next to him. Thor stumbled forward, slinging his cock up over the lip of the table so it didn't drag him down as he crawled up with one knee, then the other. Rocket had to admit, Thor was a looker. His cock jutted out in front of him, maybe two-or-so feet long and nearly as thick as one of Thor's own muscular forearms. His flushed cockhead glistened with pre, forming a swaying rope tethered to the underside that smeared all across Rocket's shaft as he crawled forward.

Thor took in the crowd surrounding them, seemingly noticing all the other men for the first time. The table was ringed with a crowd -- Peter, Drax, Korg, and then two dozen or so bar patrons, all various levels of nudity, all with their cocks hanging out, jerking off as they watched. Well, they were about to get a show, that's for sure.

"You're gonna have to do the work," Rocket said, humping against his cock, pantomiming thrusting: his balls sluggishly jostled forward, cocktip mostly just bobbing up and down. "C'mon, fuck yourself on my dick!"

Thor dragged a hand up his chest, coating his fingers with the frothy mess of drool and pre painting his front, and then planted himself in a back bend: feet flat on the table surface, one arm stabilizing him as he reached back and probed at his asshole, fingering himself open. His cock lolled up his stomach and curved over his side, bobbing in the air as he twisted his fingers inside him. Thor pushed forward, and -- was he fisting himself?! He groaned slightly, feet scuffing across the slime-coated table as he spread his legs wider, contorting himself so he could shove his whole fist up his ass. Rocket let out a whistle. Man, Thor really did have some experience with decent-sized cocks.

Thor pulled his fist free with a wet slurp, revealing his mounded asslips, flush red guts on display between their pouting spread, and he rocked his hips down, looking like he was fucking the air. His cock swayed up his body, splattering slimy arcs of pre across his chest and face. But what he was actually trying to do was catch Rocket's cocktip with his hole: his huge, pillowy asscheeks pressed down against Rocket's length. He pulled back, reaching down to flop his pendulous balls out across his hip before he lowered himself further and tried again. Rocket groaned, watching Thor bear himself down on his cock. His cock flexed, gushing out a massive eruption of pre that sprayed all up Thor's back, splattering all across the guys ringing the table. Thor groaned, reaching down to tug Rocket's cocktip just a fraction higher, and then -- his next rolling thrust brought his asshole down right onto Rocket's cock, the motion violently sheathing the first half-foot of his cock into Thor's loose, welcoming gape with a heavy, meaty thwack. Thor let out a bellowing moan, head thrown back, and his guts rippled and clenched around Rocket's cocktip, hungrily milking it. Thor's cock erupted, spraying a huge plume of cum up into the air like he was a fucking fountain, splattering down in thick, milky lines all over himself and the table. Fuck. Rocket groaned, cock flexing, and gushed a mess of pre up into Thor's guts, flooding his ass and spraying the rest out around his pulsing cocktip.

Thor fucked himself on Rocket's cock: hands and feet planted on the pre-drenched tabletop, thighs pumping, hips rolling, as he steadily fucked himself lower down on Rocket's mammoth cock. His ass gaped open effortlessly, yawning open as he pushed and clenched. He gulped down Rocket's cock, eyes unfocused and staring at nothing, his own dick steadily leaking messy streamers of his own thick white cum all down his sides. Rocket could feel Thor's prostate, a bulky fist-sized knot of dense flesh cradled between his hips. It was crushed flat against his shaft, and each time Thor bore down, groaning, his prostate spasmed hard, pulsing in a frenzy as Thor's dick leaked out a fresh batch of cum.

Thor's belly stretched and warped, deforming from the pressure of Rocket's cock inside him. He was already sloshing from the pre he'd swallowed down, but now his stomach was getting rearranged, shoved aside as Rocket's massive cock cored out his guts. Thor gurgled, drooling and gagging on nothing as he relaxed his core and let his belly swell out and out and out, deforming into a massive pillar sheathing Rocket's giant animal cock. Thor gurgled, wetly vomiting up the frothy mess of pre he'd swallowed down as he kept fucking himself, not even halfway down Rocket's dick.

Halfway down, to be clear, was more than nearly anybody had ever taken of his dick, and that was with months of practice. Who the hell had Thor been fucking?

One of the guys ringing the table finally decided Thor's open mouth, slimy and drooling froth, was too inviting to pass up. He stepped forward, cock at the ready, and sunk himself balls deep into Thor's mouth. Rocket wasn't sure Thor even noticed, really: his head was already tossed back, focused on turning himself into a cocksleeve for Rocket's dick. Thor's breathing didn't even hitch. Only now he had a cock in his throat.

Thor was a living condom stretched out around his cock. He sunk nearly three quarters of it inside him -- about the height of a short human, more-or-less -- before he focused on just pumping: thighs pistoning as he rode it, rocking back and forth. The guy fucking his throat came and was replaced by another guy, who lasted an even shorter amount of time. Thor's belly warped and shuddered. Each gush of pre visibly distended the flesh around Rocket's cocktip before it cascaded down his guts, pooling in sloshing pockets along Rocket's pumping shaft as it slowly worked its way out. Thor clenched his hole tight, scrubbing his huge, muscular ring along Rocket's shaft, and his pre pooled there, building up into a heavier and heavier lake of dammed pre before even Thor's godly muscles failed him.

His asshole spasmed, pushing, and he squirted out gallons of pre, spraying out in spasming blasts that stuck Rocket's fur to his skin and thickly glazed everyone standing in that half-circle around the table. Some of the guys collapsed, eyes rolling back into their skulls as their cocks erupted instantly, just the touch -- the taste -- of Rocket's pre enough to send them into on overwhelming orgasm. Guy hooted and yelled, clambering for more as Thor kept squirting, but Rocket was real skilled at ignoring idiots. They should be glad they were even giving them a show.

The next guy fucking Thor's face came, grunting and groaning, and pulled out to milk his dick, spraying the rest of his load across Thor's face. He'd hardly added to the mess Rocket made; his little drips and drops of cum vanished under the slimy mess of frothy pre Thor was still weakly coughing up, pouring in sludgy streaks down his upturned face. Some other guy shoved him away and pressed his own dick against Thor's lips, sinking the whole thing to the root with a wet clap. Oh, hey, Rocket noticed. Actually, that's Peter, not just some guy. He's lost in a haze too, just mindlessly fucking Thor's throat, leaning forward to curl his hands around Thor's huge, muscular pecs. He swayed forward, face smacking against the distended pillar that is Rocket's cock sheathed in Thor's stomach, and then he's totally lost. He started making out with Rocket's dick through Thor's skin, lapping and sucking on Thor's sweaty, pre-drenched skin as he humped into Thor's open throat.

Decent kid, Peter, Rocket thought. Too bad he couldn't use Peter like he's using Thor. The kid'd just burst apart in a second.

Thor, meanwhile, came all over himself again. His cock was half-hard, limp across his hip -- and still way bigger than anybody else's dick -- but he erupted with a full-body spasm, gushing out a second load all over his stretched belly, drooling in slimy clumps down his side. His body clenched around Rocket's dick, and that was it, that's enough. Thor was yielding without being loose, tight without being inflexible, and thinking about how, yeah, Rocket was gonna get a lot of use out of him -- he felt himself tip over the edge, cumming with a long, drawn-out groan.

Thor's body caught his load, stomach ballooning out at the tip before the first spurt crashed down, loudly smacking against his internal flesh with a muted thunderclap. Thor clenched down, legs collapsing under him as he tried vainly to keep Rocket's load inside him, but that was just the first spurt. Each one was... more than a gallon, a sustained multi-second spray that filled him up and started to round out his belly, but already Thor was full up and leaking. Rocket's acrid, greasy animal cum filled him up, some pumping deeper inside him but most forming a sloshing, gurgling reservoir just before Thor's asshole, and as Rocket kept cumming, pumping more and more inside him, a pressurized squirt of cum erupted from Thor's enormous shuddering asshole, bursting out past his bruised and swollen asslips.

Thor roared -- around Peter's cock, still shoved in his throat -- and tried to fuck himself deeper. His legs hooked around Rocket's balls and he hauled himself down, body warping and contorting, his stretched belly shoving itself another foot up into the air, but it's no use. Thor's ass gaped, squirting out a flood of cum in gummy, grey-white sprays, absolutely drenching Rocket and everybody else. His mouth was flooded with the rank, gamey taste of his own load, and -- yeah, on cue, just the smell, the taste, the texture of his load splattering all over them is enough to take out most of the rest of the crowd. They collapsed, cumming all over themselves as they smear Rocket's load across their skin, or open wide to let it pour into their mouths. Peter was all but knocked out, blowing his load down Thor's throat and flopping to his side across the table, cockhead drooling his load into Thor's hair.

Thor sobbed, cock erupting in weak spurts as he tried and fails to show his use as a cum-dumpster. His belly bloated, shuddering and gurgling as Rocket's load slammed deeper inside him, but it was too little too late as his flabby asslips prolapsed over themselves in rubbery folds and he squirted out another fountaining plume of cum. Thor spasmed and squirted, smearing himself entirely in Rocket's grimy jizz, groaning and sobbing as he writhed in the messy cum-bath he made for himself.

Rocket kept fucking him for another five minutes or so, until he's done unloading. By that time everything was coated: the table a fountain, with cum sheeting out over the edges, the bar floor itself flooded an inch or two deep in cooling, half-congealed raccoon cum. More-or-less everybody was out of it, just weakly writhing through the cum-flooded morass, their cocks still hard and sometimes still erupting, matched by a weak groan.

Rocket hauled himself backwards, reaching down for the straps of his jumpsuit. Slowly, struggling, he rolled one of his cum-sodden balls back into the hyperbolic space mesh with a wet squelch, and then he used its weight to socket the other one inside too. The sudden reduction in mass made him feel light and floaty, even with a five-foot cock still jutting out of his crotch, impaled deep inside the god of thunder.

"Thor, you still with me?" Rocket said, slapping a hand against his thigh. Thor had been weakly convulsing, still working his internal muscles the whole time. Thor's guts rippled as they prolapsed out around Rocket's fat shaft and then wetly slurped back inside Thor's body, back and forth like he was stroking off Rocket's dick with his loose, broken-open guts. It was a nice feeling; it made Rocket want to go a second round. Rocket looked around the ruined bar: guys collapsed in a mounded ring around the table, most totally out of it, a few still drunkenly jerking off the nearest dick. Peter, drooling and snoring face down on the cum-slathered table. Korg was a massive boulder, collapsed on his side on the floor, with his rock cock jutting straight out from his body and drooling a finger-thick cord of oily grey-black cum. Drax was... Rocket looked around, trying to find him. Drax was kneeling in front of a booth, softly slurping as he nursed some guy's half-hard cock, both hands pumping the two guys next to him as they erratically spurted cum across his sweaty, cum-drenched jaw. Huh. Rocket let out a sigh, nose curling as the exhale stirred the swampy air, giving him a solid noseful of his own rank, musky load. Good thing they were getting out early in the morning; he didn't want to be around to get blamed for something like this again. "What a mess."

Thor stirred, sluggishly spilling of Rocket's dick. Thick, heavy gluggs resonated through his body as he slurped off, guts wetly prolapsing in a perfect blooming rose of cum-slathered meat, until he finally popped off the tip and immediately toppled off the edge of the table with a splat. "M' here," Rocket heard him say, a second later.

Rocket started stuffing his still-unsheathed dick into his hyperbolic space pouch, enough that he could actually start to walk again. He waddled forward, straining under the weight of his own dick, and managed to get close enough to the table edge so that he could peer over. Thor was collapsed on the cum-drenched floor, bloated belly making him look beyond pregnant, his guts softly squelching as he clenched and pushed, still mindlessly working on milking Rocket's phantom cock.

"Y'think you can drag these guys back to the ship? We gotta get going-- uh plus we gotta outrun anybody coming after us for wrecking the place." Rocket stuffed more of his dick into his jumpsuit, until just the tip -- a bulky, deep purple spike as broad as Rocket's entire body -- was pressed against his chest, still sluggishly drooling oily pre. "Then-- hey, when we're all on the ship, how about round two?"