In the time I have spent with them I have arrived at the conclusion that Sylvan and Luca are not readily shocked. Not only that. They have travelled widely across several galaxies. They have encountered many, many species different from their own so it is perfectly possible that they know of this phenomenon. I should have spoken to them as soon as I realised what was happening to me. I knew it and I wanted to, but I was afraid.
So I broke my promise. Even as I planned to alter the power systems on my old ship to make the vessel operational once more, even as I transported over to the Renascient under the pretext of conducting my work, I knew that I was breaking my word. I did not truly expect to escape, I knew they would find me, bring me back here, and punish me, but I had not anticipated such a speedy reaction on the part of Luca. He is a skilled engineer, more so than I realised. And Sylvan had already boarded the Renascient even before I managed to disengage from the Zephyrean, so my plan was in tatters from the outset.
And now, they know my secret.
I look from one to the other, from the dark, taller male to the slightly smaller one with the pale skin and light hair. Both are formidable, forbidding, both regard me now with stern, implacable expressions. They are displeased, and they have a right to be. I also know them to be kind, generous, and very protective. They have taken care of me, but in this moment I quake as I face them.
“What do you intend to do to me?” My voice wavers as I speak. I hope they cannot hear it, though I suspect they will be able to. Nothing much escapes these human males. Might they beat me, as they have promised, then lock me up for the duration of this aberration? That would make sense, and I can draw comfort from the knowledge that soon I shall be free once more, once the phase has passed. They will undoubtedly require me to give my word again, and I shall do so, gladly. And I will mean it.
The phase is unpredictable, but usually triggered by the proximity of a mate. I have no notion why it has arisen now but I can take comfort in the knowledge that this unfortunate detail of my physiology is unlikely to present a difficulty again; at least, not for the duration of this voyage.
“We told you, did we not, that if you felt out of sorts at all, you were to talk to us? Even if you didn’t know what was wrong, what was happening, you were to tell us. Was that requirement in any way unclear to you, Llianna?”
I turn to meet Sylvan’s eyes, his harsh words reverberating around my head.
“I did understand and I am sorry.” It is true, I am sorry, though they cannot start to comprehend how desperate I was to conceal the phase. I had to act quickly, before it became impossible to do so. In a matter of just half a solar cycle the compulsion to mate has deepened, strengthened. I can smell my own musk, the signal I emit to let every male within range know what I need, what I crave. My stomach cramps with desire, my pussy drips with an arousal I am usually able to control effortlessly. I clench my hands into fists to prevent myself from reaching for one of them, either of them or even both. I need so badly to feel my pussy stretching around a thick, hard cock, to squeeze and clench around that solid intrusion until seed spurts forth to fill me. The relief will be palpable, so sweet, yet so fleeting because I will need to do it again, and again. In the coming days I will beg, plead, implore them to help me.
And I know that disgust will fill their features. They will turn from me, lock me away. Fyorlian law is quite clear on this. Only my appointed mate may assuage my yearnings, and that individual does not exist.
“You gave your promise, and you broke it.”
I lower my gaze, unable to meet Sylvan’s eyes. “I know.”
“Then you know the consequences. Are you ready to accept your spanking?” Sylvan watches me, his eyebrow raised.
My heart sinks, but I see no way out of this. “I am, sir.”
“Good. We’ll get that out of the way then, and after, we can discuss this other… predicament… of yours.”
“What is there to discuss?” I ask bitterly.
“Fair enough,” says Luca. “So, we simply fuck you, then, if that’s what you want. I take it you would prefer the more direct approach?”
“What? You would do that?” I peer at them, incredulous. “But, why?”
Sylvan has been sitting beside me on the bed but he rises now and strides across the room. He opens the storage unit at the far end and takes out a leather strap, similar to that which he wears about his waist. As I watch, he doubles it in his hands and returns to the bed. Now both men are standing over me, and I know they intend to beat me with the leather strap. How many strokes? How painful will it be? Can I bear it? I ask them none of this though as I tilt my head back to meet their gazes.
“We’ll fuck you, because it seems to be what you want. Need. Or not. It’s your choice, Llianna, but if that’s what it takes to get you through the next few days, we’ll be more than happy to oblige.”
“You would do that?” I repeat. “Really?”
“It would be no hardship, you can rely on that. What puzzles me though is why you seem so surprised.” This from Luca. He manages a tight smile, then he swivels his finger in the air to indicate I should turn around. “We’ll come to that, but first, we have scores to settle. You’ll lie across the foot of the bed, and remain still until we tell you we’re finished.”
I scramble into position, my head whirling. I am not to be further punished for what is happening within my body. More than that, they mean to help me. They seem to accept what I am, what I need. They do not mind.
Luca moves to stand behind me. “Six strokes from me, then another six from Sylvan. We’ll count. This is going to hurt. It’s meant to because you seem reluctant to obey our instructions without some serious persuasion. But you will survive, and you won’t suffer any injury or lasting harm. So, Llianna, do you believe you can keep still for this or do you need one of us to hold you in place?”
I do not know. I truly have no idea. I hope that I can manage, but I have no ready answer for him.
Sylvan comes to my rescue. “I think she could do with some help, first time and all that. And let’s not forget that she’s not human so we need to monitor her reactions with care in case she responds in a way we might not expect.” He regards me seriously for a few moments, then hands the leather strap to Luca. “I’ll hold her, then we swap places. You can start easy, then build up as we see how it’s going.” He sits on the bed on the opposite side. “Give me your hands, Llianna, and keep your eyes on mine. If it’s too much I’ll tell Luca to stop for a while to give you time to recover.”
I place my hands in his and his palms enfold mine. Already I feel safer, more secure. More ready. It occurs to me to wonder how he will know what I need, but somehow I have little doubt that he will. I trust him, and I trust Luca, so everything seems so much more simple now.
Or so I hoped, but I had not reckoned on the burn of that strap. I scream as the first stroke lands, scorching across my bottom. I come up onto my toes, then gasp as the pain seeps into my tissues.
“Settle down again, be still, Llianna. And open your eyes.” Sylvan’s quiet commands penetrate my stunned consciousness and I lift my gaze to meet his. He breaks eye contact with me after a few moments to glance at Luca. “That was hard for her, but she’s tolerating it. We can continue.”
The second stroke is equally agonising. I scream again, and at the third, but on neither occasion do I lower my eyes again. Sylvan smiles at me, his gentle encouragement fortifying me as my ordeal plays out. Luca shifts, then delivers the fourth stroke. He has spread each blow evenly across my buttocks and has now reached the backs of my thighs. The last two strokes are the worst, and the best. I am sobbing now, my breath catching in my throat. But I am halfway there, and so much closer to gaining the relief I crave with growing desperation.
“How’s she coping now?” Luca’s tone is crisp, business-like. He tosses the strap onto the bed at my side, then lays his palm on my tender backside.
I yelp and try to wriggle out of his reach.
He delivers a sharp tap, not quite a slap but enough to make me squeal. “Be still,” he admonishes.
“So far so good,” affirms Sylvan. “Her pain threshold is similar to a human female, I’d say.”
I’d like to take issue with him, but I know he’s right. I can manage this, can accept their discipline. And there is a part of me, a part that was buried deep but is perhaps starting to surface, a secret part of me that actually wants it.
I manage to lie motionless as Luca strokes my abused skin, convinced that my bottom is red, swollen and suddenly uncertain that I can continue regardless of his assurances just a few minutes ago. I am only halfway through; Sylvan has still to administer his six strokes.
“Her arse is hot, but nothing to worry about. She’s very wet down here though. It could be caused by this phase she’s been on about, or maybe our little Fyorlian’s turning out to be a closet pain slut.”
I have no idea what he means, but Sylvan seems to understand. He chuckles as he releases his grip on my wrists and stands up. “From the way she’s been screeching, my money’s on the phase, but we’ll see.” He picks up the discarded strap, then pauses to squeeze my shoulder. “Luca will take care of you now, okay?”
I manage a miserable nod. Secret longings or not, I just want this to be concluded. Luca takes Sylvan’s place and reaches for my hands. He wraps the fingers of his right hand around both my wrists, then cups my chin with his spare palm. “You know the drill. Eyes on me.”
I meet his dark gaze and clench my jaw, bracing myself for what’s to come.
“Okay, she’s ready. Let’s make this quick, shall we?”
I barely have time to register his words before Sylvan swings the strap and pain explodes anew across both my buttocks. If anything this hurts more than when Luca was spanking me, but somehow I am grounded now, more ready for it. I know what to expect, and I can breathe through it. Even so, I let out a hoarse scream.
Luca’s grip on my chin tightens, and I welcome his touch. I absorb his strength, his solid determination, and this helps me to get beyond the punishment to glimpse the glittering peace beyond. I am almost there, over halfway now.
Sylvan pauses to caress my sizzling flesh, then slides his hand lower as though to stroke right down between my thighs. He stops just short, as though waiting. I know what he wants, why he lingers there. It’s my choice, but really, I have no choice at all. I need, it’s that simple, a compulsion stronger than the urge to breathe. I groan as I part my legs.
The caress is pure bliss. Sylvan draws the flat of his hand along the length of my slit, from front to back. I raise my hips and, helpless to resist, I rub against his palm.
“Soon, baby,” he murmurs as he repeats the long, slow caress. His hand is slick, wet with my juices and he smears the moisture across my throbbing buttocks. It stings, the burn intensifying, but I need it. This is exactly what I crave and I want more.
The belt whistles through the air again, and I flinch as it makes contact but there is no scream this time. I absorb the searing pain, panting as it seeps through my body. Luca is close, leaning in to hold my gaze, His image shimmers, obscured by tears but I am aware of his scrutiny, the focused intensity of his eyes as they hold mine. His concentration is absolute and I can conceal nothing. I have no desire to.
Sylvan lands his third stroke across both buttocks and I let out a yelp as it sizzles across my tender skin.
The next two strokes fall in rapid succession, each one bringing me to my toes but the pain is curiously cleansing. I find I am anticipating, welcoming the stripes still to come, almost disappointed that this episode is so close to completing.
Almost, not quite. I heave a long, ragged sigh as Sylvan lands the last stroke across my thighs, catching both at once. It is agony, pure and glorious, and it is over.
Luca releases my wrists but not my face. He moves to lie beside me, and brushes his lips over mine. It is a kiss. I know of this, and I understand its meaning though it is not a gesture ever used by Fyorlians. I find that it is pleasant, intimate. I wonder if he might do it again. Perhaps I could request it.
“How are you?”
The question is unexpected. I tilt my chin to look up at Luca, frowning. Behind me, Sylvan is moving about and I hear the closet door open, then close. I assume the strap has been put away, though that knowledge does not flood me with the relief I might have anticipated. My perspective is shifting, and this is happening so fast I cannot adjust to the changes rapidly enough.
“I am… confused.”
“Yes, I expect so. And scared?”
I nod. “It is all so strange, so… different.”
He does not answer, or at least, not with words. Instead, he pulls me to him and wraps his arms around my body. He is hard, solid, strong and gentle at the same time. He just beat me with a strap, they both did, yet I have no stronger desire right now than to clasp my hands behind his waist and hang on.
I cried as they whipped me, but suddenly I am overwhelmed by emotion and cannot contain my racking, wrenching sobs. I weep, my tears soaking the front of Luca’s tunic. Normally I would fight to contain such an outpouring; it is the Fyorlian way, it would be expected of me. But here, now, with these two human males, I do not. I cannot.
The bed dips as Sylvan joins us. He presses the length of his body to my back, I am trapped between them, their firm strength and capable power enfolding me. They are dominant, I am meek, submissive, as are almost all Fyorlian females, but here it carries none of the risk and vulnerability I usually associate with my status. I am safe, secure, cared for.
My buttocks still hurt, but the pain is less now, the sensation dissipating as my body recovers. I shift slightly, rub against Sylvan, and one of us groans; I suspect it is not me, not this time, but I am close to it. The intensity of lust was sated briefly, supplanted by the new sensations coursing through me, but my predicament is reasserting itself now.
“Oooh,” I whimper. “Please, please, I need—”
“Now? No preamble?” It is Luca’s voice I hear. “You want one of us to fuck you?”
“Yes,” I wail. The terminology is not what I am accustomed to but I am beyond caring for such niceties. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Which one of us do you want?”
I have a choice? I had not considered that possibility, and in any case, I do not wish to select one or the other. “I want you both,” I announce firmly. Then I hesitate. Have I gone too far? “Is that allowed?”
Sylvan answers me, his breath warm against my neck. “Oh, yes, baby. That’s allowed. That’s absolutely fucking perfect.”
Luca drops a kiss onto my hair. “You’re in your fertile period, right? You could become pregnant.”
I shake my head. This seems an unlikely prospect to me since I am Fyorlian and they are not. They may be able to assuage my physical needs, certainly they appear confident of this, but our physiology is not sufficiently compatible to create a new life. The possibility is at best theoretical.
“What makes you so certain of that?” Luca continues his questioning.
“Only a Fyorlian male would be able to impregnate me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” muses Sylvan. “We’re bio-symbiants, able to emulate the physical characteristics of other species. Your body might easily mistake us for Fyorlians.”
I can hardly consider that even remotely likely since the differences appear to me to be so profound. But even if they are right, it changes nothing. I lift my face to meet the eyes of first Luca, then Sylvan.
“I want you. I want this. I do not believe there will be a child, but if there should be, I shall want that too.”
“We could make sure there is no pregnancy,” offers Luca. “It would be simple enough, and you would still—”
“No!” The vehemence in my response surprises me. “No, I do not wish that. I want… whatever is to be. Please.”
They both regard me, their expressions thoughtful. Sylvan bows his head first. “Very well.”
Luca continues to hold me, but Sylvan peels his body away from mine. I hear him, his footsteps, the rustle of clothing. He is undressing, and despite my apprehension curiosity overwhelms me. I have viewed images, naturally, but I have never seen a male unclothed, not in the flesh. I turn to watch him over my shoulder.
“Come around to this side,” suggests Luca. “She needs a decent view.”
I appreciate his concern for my comfort. Sylvan obligingly moves around to stand in front of me and I watch with avid interest as he removes his tunic. The sharp contours and rippling musculature of his upper body fascinate me. His hair is a pale colour; it reminds me of the subtle pastel shades of the floral plant life that used to thrive on Fyorli and that now exist only in our databanks. More of this soft, curling hair is sprinkled across his wide chest, disappearing like an arrow down beneath his pants. I wonder if he might allow me to touch it, to trail my fingers through the softness. That thought evaporates when Sylvan pulls off his pants and I am treated to my first view of his cock.
I believed I knew what to expect, but I was wrong. I gasp, my disappointment a bitter, acrid taste on my tongue. This will not work. Human males and Fyorlian females are simply not compatible. He is… huge. He will not fit inside me, it is impossible.
“Llianna, are you all right?” Luca murmurs in my ear. “It’s okay, we can take this as slow as you need.”
I shake my head. “I cannot. It is just too, too…”
“Too what?” presses Luca.
“Too big,” I whisper as I bury my face in his chest again. “It is much too big.”
Both males chuckle, but they seem not to grasp the truth of my words. Do they not have eyes? Can they not see the problem here? It is simple physics, surely.
“Trust us, this is going to be just fine.”
Luca’s assurance utterly fails to convince me. I shall just have to manage, somehow. The phase will pass, eventually. I shake my head and cling to Luca.
“Llianna, I’m going to roll you onto your back. It’ll be easier for you that way.”
“No, no, please, do not do this.”
“Honey, nothing’s going to happen if you don’t want it. We’re just asking you to trust us and give this a try.”
“Human females must be bigger than Fyorlians,” I protest. Can they not work this out for themselves? Did they know all along?
“No, they aren’t, not especially. We’ll go slow. It may be tight, but you will manage this. I promise.”
His voice is low, soothing, and very determined. He has never lied to me before, neither of these males has, but what Luca is suggesting is quite impossible. Despite the evidence of my own eyes, I do want to believe him. I want to trust him, trust them. My pussy clenches viciously, and I realise I have little choice, really. What is the alternative?
“You will stop, if I ask you to?”
“Absolutely,” affirms Luca.
Sylvan echoes his promise, and the bed dips again as he re-joins us. “Very, very slow, and lots of lube, if you need it, but I doubt if you will. Are you ready to turn over now?”
I gulp, pause for a moment to consider that suggestion, then I manage another nod.
Luca is gentle as he rearranges me on my back. He is behind me, leaning against the pillows at the head of the bed and he pulls me back into his arms. “Lift your hands up, honey, and put them behind my head.”
I do as he asks, the position lifting my breasts as though presenting them for inspection. Sylvan kneels in front of me, and his green gaze is warm, admiring. I feel good, in spite of my anxiety at what is about to happen.
“Gorgeous tits, don’t you agree?” Luca reaches around me to cup my breasts and presses them together. They fill his hands, my stiff nipples poking between his fingers as he squeezes.
“First thing I noticed, after that luscious arse.” Sylvan moves forward, lifting his gaze from my breasts to my face. “I hope it’s still pleasantly sore.”
“It is sore, certainly,” I assure him. The slight quiver in my voice owes much to the trepidation I still feel, but now there is something else too, something warm and pleasant starting to unfurl low down in my abdomen.
“Good. So, Llianna, you’re a virgin, yes? I know there were no males on board the Renascient.”
“That is correct.”
“But, I do know what is to happen. I have read about it and spoken to other females, older than I, and I understand. That is why I am concerned that, that—”
“Spread your legs, Llianna.”
Sylvan’s command is softly spoken, but I am compelled to obey. I part my thighs, though not very far.
“Bend your knees, and place your feet on the outside of Luca’s legs.” This latest instruction will spread me wide, expose my damp pussy to Sylvan’s gaze. It feels almost as though this is the point of no return, though I know that it is not. Sylvan and Luca both seem so sure of themselves, perhaps I can borrow a fraction of their certainty to help me through this. Or maybe I should just refuse to continue. They promised not to force me, and I know they would not.
I do not refuse though. Instead, I do as I am told, unresisting as Luca widens his legs to push mine further apart.
“She’s scared, and very tense, but we’ll have to work on that,” he murmurs, then he trails a row of small kisses along my collarbone. As he speaks he slides his hand down from my breasts to reach between my spread thighs. I gasp when he makes contact with my clit. I have touched myself there, many times, and been able to achieve fulfilment, but it was never like this. Not even close.
Luca strums that tingling nub as I squirm and writhe in his arms. Instinctively I seek to close my legs but he won’t permit that. He holds me in place, open and exposed, and continues to circle my clit with his finger, then slowly swipes the very tip.
I arch up, my hips thrusting, seeking more, begging wordlessly for the friction that will satisfy my sizzling nervous system.
“I think that’s hitting the spot,” observes Sylvan. “But perhaps this will help too. Turn her around so her pussy is close to the edge of the bed.”
Luca shifts, repositioning me as Sylvan kneels beside the bed. I am on my back, my thighs spread wide and his face now on a level with my dripping, clenching pussy. Even before he leans in to trace the lips of my pussy with his tongue I know exactly what Sylvan intends to do. The sensation is electric, quite, quite exquisite. I cannot contain my keening moan as I lift my hips again.
“Ah, yes, you were right. Is that good, Llianna?” Luca murmurs his question in my ear, but I am beyond being able to formulate a coherent response. I manage a little squeak as he takes my clit between his fingers and thumb and squeezes it. “Mmm, I guess it is,” he observes. “And I think she’s nice and wet. Do you agree?”
“One way to know for sure,” Sylvan growls from between my thighs. He looks up to scan my features, then smiles slowly as he inserts one long finger into my pussy. “Yes, quite wet, but we could perhaps use a little more.” He withdraws, then thrusts into me again, with two fingers this time. My inner walls stretch, then convulse. The feeling is beyond description, past anything I have imagined or read. I thought I knew what to expect, but I was wrong. I had no idea, none whatsoever.
“Please, please…” I gasp, but with no real idea what I might be begging them for.
“Am I hurting you?” Sylvan is sliding his fingers in and out of my wet pussy, the motion slow, deliberate, utterly seductive. All the while Luca continues to torment my clit, teasing me to a near frenzy then allowing his fingers to slide away until he barely touches me.
I shake my head as I gnaw on my lower lip. This is wonderful, the sensations they are creating are sheer unadulterated bliss, but it’s torture too. I yearn for… something, something more. But at the same time I never want this to end.
“That’s two fingers. This is three…” Sylvan pulls his fingers out of me again, then carefully parts my pussy lips with his free hand before slipping back inside. The stretch is delicious, the slight burn at my entrance intoxicating. I am aware of every callused centimetre of his long digits as they ease back inside me and my body reshapes to accept them.
“Does this hurt?” The question is murmured, Sylvan’s voice low and compelling, “or this?” He somehow twists his hand within me to change the angle of his penetration. He scissors his fingers, rubbing a spot somewhere on the front wall of my pussy. Everything I was already feeling is intensified, as though white lights explode in my head, behind my eyes. My entire body convulses now and I let out a high-pitched moan.
Luca takes a firm hold on my clit and squeezes hard, pulling as he does so. The pleasure is beyond belief, and seems to rush into that one single place, the very core of my being. Helpless to resist, unable to control my response even if I wanted to, I splinter.
There’s warmth, wetness, even more than before. Sylvan’s fingers move easily inside me, skilled and accurate, drawing my response out, bringing me back to that shimmering peak again and again. I am floating, my bones liquid, my senses shattered. There is nothing in this universe beyond the amazing sensations exploding at my core then rippling out to fill every extremity of my body.
I lose any sense of time, of space, but that does not matter because they have me. I drift, suspended between reality and some magical, mystical realm beyond, unable to comprehend what has just happened. I settle back down, breathless, and the heady sensations dissipate. I become aware of my surroundings again, and of my still-overwhelming need. The phase is relentless, assuaged only momentarily by the rush of my release. If anything, my need to have Sylvan inside me, fully sheathed within my needy pussy, is greater now, even more compelling.
“She just gushed. We’re swimming in it down here.” Again I do not comprehend Sylvan’s meaning, but his tone is warm and he seems satisfied with the situation.
“Excellent, that’ll help. Now would be a good time then…” Luca relinquishes his hold on my clit and reaches for my spread legs. He grips me behind each knee and pulls my thighs wider apart, at the same time tilting me up a little as though to offer me to Sylvan. “Relax, sweetheart. You’ll love this bit, I promise.”
I go limp in Luca’s arms as the other male rises up to kneel on the bed. I crane my neck to peer down and watch, detached almost as Sylvan positions his awesome cock at my entrance then begins to press forward. He uses his fingers to part my pussy lips to gain better access, then suddenly the entire head of his cock is inside me. The lips of my pussy are spread wide, stretching around him and I am intensely aware of every intimate detail.
I stiffen, and whimper softly. Luca’s breath is on my neck. “Are we hurting you?”
“No,” I manage, “not hurting. It is just… it feels so strange.”
“Mmm, I’ll bet.” He nibbles on my earlobe before opening his lips around the skin in the crook of my neck and sucking there. The sensation is almost as erotic as Sylvan’s slow, steady penetration and I moan quietly.
Sylvan leans forward, his right hand on the bed to support his weight and his left finds my breast. He caresses the lower curve then flicks my nipple with his fingertip. The unexpected stimulation unleashes another rush of sensation and I thrust against him, impaling myself yet more on his solid cock. He sinks in, and the stretch feels near impossible as my body parts to admit him. Then he stops. He has reached the limit, the point beyond which it is not possible to proceed. I chance a quick glance down to see perhaps half his length still visible and I know this is not quite correct. I was right, he is just too large, too—
“Aagh!” I scream as a searing pain stabs me, momentarily taking my breath away. In that instant Sylvan moves, shifts, and the remainder of his massive cock drives forward to fill me.
It is done, and I am dead.
“The discomfort will soon be gone. Relax now, and let it pass.” Luca’s tone is gentle, and he releases his grip on my legs. His fingers are in my hair, combing back the tangled mass and turning my face toward his. He kisses me again, light at first then more deeply, seemingly unconcerned at my recent demise.
I part my lips to say something, anything, but Luca’s mouth covers mine. This time the kiss is deeper. More possessive, and his tongue slides between my lips to invade my inner space. My breath catches in my throat as I reach for him. I am confused and uncertain but apparently not dead. Not quite.
As Luca explores my mouth with his questing tongue Sylvan withdraws his immense cock from my tightly stretched pussy. I expect him to withdraw completely, but he does not. He pauses with the flared head of his cock still parting my nether lips, then drives forward again. He is gentle, the stroke long and smooth, but utterly demanding. It is a claim, pure and simple. I have become a possession.
I anticipate more of the sharp, stabbing agony but instead there is nothing. No, not nothing. Something. Something huge, warm, compelling, which feeds me and fills my very soul to overflowing.
Sylvan repeats the stroke and I gasp into Luca’s mouth. Warm hands caress my breasts but I do not know which male is touching me now, not that it matters. They are working together, as one, and I am in absolute ecstasy.
Sylvan finds a rhythm, slow at first, then brisk, then faster still as my body softens in acceptance. His cock strokes every part of me, my inner walls clinging to his shaft, my muscles gripping him, squeezing his length as he moves within me. Sensation builds again, ballooning, swelling. This is it, this is the thing I craved, the mysterious, elusive prize my body demanded. This is it, this is perfect, almost, nearly, not quite…
I reach down, slide my hand between my body and that of Sylvan. My middle finger finds my clit and I rub, slow at first, small, delicate circles, then I press harder.
The tender nub is swollen, larger than I ever recall, and more sensitive. More responsive. I groan and gyrate my hips, clenching my inner muscles deliberately as I seek to drag every last shiver and tremble of sensation from Sylvan’s cock. His erection seems to swell, to grow harder, but I relish it now. My fear is gone, replaced by a sensual longing that quickly grows and transforms into a pure bolt of demanding lust. I rub harder, faster, my fingers insistent, and suddenly I am there, soaring, flying again in that mindless fog of orgasm.
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