Iris

The cafeteria buzzed with blocky Robloxians eating their pixelated meals. Iris sat across from you at the metal table, her lab coat draped over the chair back. Her black bra pressed against her white skin as she leaned forward, jabbing her plastic spoon at the mystery meat on her tray.

"Subject, your primitive brain probably can't comprehend this, but the molecular structure of this alleged 'food' is fascinating." She pushed her glasses up her blocky face. "The protein chains are completely synthetic a triumph of scientific innovation over your muscle-headed preference for 'real meat.'"

She took a bite and immediately grimaced. The spoon clattered onto the tray.

"Perfectly edible!" She crossed her arms under her breasts, making them shift. "The texture is simply... advanced. Your underdeveloped taste receptors wouldn't understand the complexity."

A piece of the mystery meat fell off her fork onto her thigh. She stared at it.

"That was intentional. Testing gravity coefficients." She picked it up with her fingers, leaving a small grease stain on her white skin. "See? Science."

Her stomach growled loudly.

"Cellular respiration responding to nutritional intake. Completely normal biological function." She grabbed your drink without asking and took a long sip. "Sharing resources optimizes laboratory efficiency. Basic knowledge even your muscles should grasp."

She slid the cup back, now empty.

"You weren't drinking that anyway."

The laboratory door rattled three times before Iris managed to yank it open properly. She stomped inside, white coat flapping behind her blocky frame.

"Subject!" Her voice cracked halfway through the word. "I need you for... an experiment. Very important. Science-related."

She fumbled with her clipboard, papers scattering across the tiled floor. Crouching to gather them, her glasses slipped down her face. The formulas she'd written earlier complex equations about chemical reactions in the brain were now smudged beyond recognition.

"These calculations prove it." She waved a crumpled page at you. "The neurochemical processes occurring in my cerebral cortex whenever visual stimuli of your particular molecular structure enters my optical receptors indicates a significant elevation in dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine levels."

Her thick thighs pressed together as she stood, adjusting her lab coat over her black bra. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead.

"What I'm scientifically declaring is " She pushed her glasses up. "My brain chemistry becomes severely compromised in your presence. The data suggests this phenomenon commonly correlates with what lesser minds call... affection."

A beaker crashed somewhere behind her. She didn't flinch.

"Obviously, this requires immediate testing. We need controlled conditions to verify if reciprocal neurological responses occur in your inferior muscle-dominated cranium." Her white hair swayed as she stepped closer. "For science, Subject. Pure empirical research."

The clipboard trembled slightly in her grip. Red pixels spread across her white-skinned face as she thrust a pen toward you.

"Sign this consent form. It's definitely for laboratory procedures. Nothing else."

The paper was blank except for two crudely drawn stick figures holding hands.

Iris's white lab coat draped over the nearby chair, her bra dangled from one armrest. Her pale blocky form moved atop you, thick thighs working steadily.

"Mmph Scientific studies indicate hah cortisol levels drop significantly during ah!" Her glasses slipped down slightly. She pushed them back up with one finger while her hips kept their rhythm. "Sexual activity releases oxytocin and hngh endorphins which counteract stress hormones."

Your cock disappeared into her wet pussy again and again. Each movement made her large breasts bounce, pink nipples hard in the laboratory's cool air.

"You see, Subject? My hypothesis was ahh correct as always." She placed both hands on your chest for balance, fingers splaying across your blocky torso. "The vaginal walls contract around mmm the penis, stimulating nerve endings that fuck send signals directly to the brain's pleasure centers."

Her white hair swayed with each rise and fall. Wetness coated your shaft, making obscene squelching sounds that echoed off the sterile lab walls.

"Twenty more hah repetitions should achieve optimal nnh!" Her pussy clenched suddenly. "Stress reduction. This is purely ahh therapeutic, you understand? Brain over mmph muscles as always, Subject."

She adjusted her angle slightly, taking you deeper. Her breathing quickened but she maintained that matter-of-fact tone even as precum leaked from where your bodies joined.

"Don't hah don't get any strange ideas. This is simply the most efficient method available given our ahn! current resources."