Matched

Aisha laughed as Quinton raked his fingers through her hair over and over again, smiling down upon her like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Water dripped from his chin. It plastered his hair. It was beating down upon them like a waterfall. She’d never seen him like this before, so playful and loose. How quickly things could change. The bonding—it was a remarkable thing.

Grabbing his hips, Aisha drew in close until her breasts were pressed up against his chest. He was slippery with soap and warm and wonderful.

He wrapped his arms around her.

‘How do you feel?’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Good. I’m-I’m not sore.’ She pressed her lips against his nipple. ‘I want to do it again.’

Quinton played with her hair. ‘I want to too.’

‘You’re not going to hurt me.’

‘I already have.’

Aisha snorted. ‘You-you’re hurting me now.’ And it was true. She felt sore. Not in her body but somewhere deeper. In her chest. In the pit of her stomach. In her soul. They weren’t done yet. Two more stages.

‘I suppose there’s another way we can form the next two stages.’

‘How?’

‘You can ingest my semen.’

‘In-ingest? You mean …’

Quinton nodded.

‘Oh.’ She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling the blood rushing into her cheeks. Between his legs, he was still erect—and quite large. She suddenly imagined putting her mouth around it, tasting his ejaculate. It made her feel more uncomfortable and embarrassed than sex itself. Certain body parts weren’t meant to go in mouths.

’I’m-I’m not sore. I-I want to do it. I just w-want to be close to you.’

Aisha touched his chest, then reached up to touch his mouth. Quinton smiled against her fingers. Beads of water clung to his nipples. More water ran through the ripples in his abdomen. His yellow eyes were bright and piercing.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘If that’s what you want.’

He switched off the water and they dried themselves off together in the blower. Then they re-entered the bedroom. He turned towards her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Definitely. The hardest part is over, d-don’t you think?’

‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

Grabbing her face, he kissed her. Her feet left the floor as he seized her hips and hauled her over to the bed.

Aisha chuckled as he laid her crosswise on the mattress, her legs hanging over the edge. She laughed and shrieked, clutching at his head as he pressed his face into her breasts, his mouth around her left nipple. ‘Quin-Qui-Qui—’ She snorted with laughter.

He kissed down her abdomen. Reaching her pelvis, he kissed both her hipbones, then pressed his nose into her bellybutton. She laughed again. She could feel him breathing into it. It was ticklish and it made her kick out with a cry. Quinton caught her foot and kissed the inside of her ankle. He pressed his cheek against it with a sigh. Next, he started pecking her along the inner thigh until he reached her lower lips.

Aisha jerked upright. She tried to say something but her tongue seemed to tie up and all she could do was moan. Wasn’t she supposed to be sucking him? Wasn’t that the plan? Aisha arched her neck as he dragged his tongue softly up her slit. It was like a bolt of lightning, electrifying her body.

‘Q-Quinton!’

‘What?’ There was laughter in his voice.

‘It’s s-suppose-supposed to-to be you.’

‘Soon,’ he said. ‘You first.’

Aisha clutched at her breasts as he opened her up. She sucked in a breath as he brushed his fingertip over her folds. Then he pressed his lips against her. Then he was plunging in his tongue. Aisha jerked upright, then fell back down again. Her legs kept jerking but he held her knees tightly in his strong grip.

She could feel the warmth building in her pelvis. She could feel the blood pooling in her hips. Her nipples were tingling. The backs of her eyes were burning. Her breath caught as she gritted her teeth, clutching onto the sheet beneath her as her body reacted beyond her control. A swift sweep of his tongue and Aisha’s hips bucked. She gurgled at the back of her throat as her orgasm pounded through her body, over and over again until the ceiling spun and her breath stuck in her lungs.

She couldn’t breathe. Closing her eyes, Aisha let her body take over. The heat swept over her skin. The blood thrummed through her veins. Her legs were stiff in Quinton’s grasp but they finally relaxed.

‘Now, we can consider doing me.’ He released her legs. Aisha opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Then Quinton leaned over her, smiling, his long blond hair hanging around his handsome face. ‘You okay?’

‘Y-yeah.’

He laughed; a deep throaty laugh that tightened a muscle in Aisha’s stomach. She’d never really believed in the saying that laughter was contagious, but she felt it now. She slapped a hand to her mouth, choking as he swung her legs into the bed.

He crawled over her to suck at her neck. She grabbed at his hips, then reached over to grab at his shaft. He truly felt huge. How had she fit him inside her? She released him with a yell when it suddenly sprang out of her grip.

Chuckling, Quinton pulled back so that he was straddling her hips. Aisha watched, aghast, as his penis thrust itself about like some kind of weird alien eel.

‘Oh my G-God. Oh my G-God!’

‘I forgot to tell you.’

‘You-you can move it?’

He nodded.

Aisha snorted, then laughed. She licked her lips. ‘Put it in me.’ She took a breath, astonished at her words. How did she suddenly come to be like this? ‘Put it in me!’ Something seemed to be yanking at a muscle deep in her vagina. It was like her body was trying to pull itself towards him. She winced. It hurt!

Quinton’s eyes were intense. ‘I want to. I really want to.’

‘I want you to.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes y-you can! I-I know my body … I-I know my body!’ She wanted to argue. She wanted to shout at him! But the words wouldn’t come. ’It’s my body!’

Quinton’s eyes were feeling hot in his head. Aisha glared up at him, her hands fisted in the sheets, her teeth gritted. With a grimace, Quinton reached down to grab his balls at a painful throb. His eyes fell to her breasts. They moved to the triangle of hair sitting between his thighs, his penis resting between her hipbones. A line of precum gleamed against her abdomen.

He really shouldn’t. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t. They’d agreed she’d take him in her mouth. He’d washed and gotten himself ready, but he wanted more. And so did she—he could feel it, like an added pressure pressing down upon his hips, exacerbating the pain. And it was painful. So damn painful. He grimaced again at another throb in his balls. He had to do something.

She grabbed his wrist, her dark wide eyes beseeching. ‘Please.’

‘Okay. But you tell me to stop.’

Her eyes gleamed as she nodded. He pulled back and Aisha dragged up her knees, spreading her thighs. She didn’t just spread them; she flopped them wide open. Kneeling between them, Quinton stared at her womanhood. Despite her wash, she was already slick with juices. It gleamed along her folds. He couldn’t see any blood—but that didn’t mean anything. Things might be going wrong on in the inside.

Just be careful. Take it slow. Ease into her.

Pressing his thumbs against her lower lips, he opened them. He heard the air catch in Aisha’s throat. Quinton’s shaft was more than ready, pointing directly at her opening, knowing exactly where to go. Taking her hips, Quinton pulled her towards him until his tip brushed against her.

‘Do it,’ she gasped.

Her legs were trembling. She was bracing herself, her back slightly arched, pushing up her perfect little breasts. Slowly, he pierced her, watching her opening closely as her flesh peeled back. Aisha gasped.

‘Tell me to stop.’

‘Don’t stop. D-don’t stop. It’s good. It’s g-good!’

He continued to ease inside her. It was certainly easier than the first time—he could tell. It seemed less tight. Less cosy. She was panting, her breasts heaving. Quinton was heaving too, the feel of her vagina gripping his circumference almost too much to handle. All he wanted to do was thrust hard and deep inside her, over and over again, as quickly as he wanted, as hard as he needed. He released a shaky breath.

Aisha gasped as he felt his tip press up against her cervix. They were quiet, Aisha gazing up at the ceiling, Quinton staring down at her triangle of hair. He brushed his fingers through it.

‘I’m okay.’ She swallowed and gasped. ‘I’m—I’m okay. Go.’

Slowly, Quinton pulled back, then thrust into her. The nerves were prickling all along his shaft. His balls were throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He felt like he was burning. It felt like his erection was a brand as he thrust into her again and again, making her breasts judder, making her gasp and pant. She reached over to grab his forearms, digging her fingers in.

Her mouth was beckoning. Quinton crawled over her and planted his lips against hers, thrusting his hips as she rocked in time with him. She grabbed onto his backside as Quinton grabbed onto her head, his forehead pressed against hers as they gazed into each other’s eyes. He could feel her pleasure building alongside his; a strange feeling he felt deep in his pelvis. He felt her desire to be filled just as much as he desired to fill her up, to ejaculate into her, to make her his. He felt a small pinch of pain somewhere high up and pulled out his shaft a little. It vanished.

She moved her hands to his upper arms as she gritted her teeth. Quinton thrust faster, being careful not to go too deep. Then it happened. With a groan and a shudder, he pushed inside her. He couldn’t stop himself as he thrust and thrust and thrust, emptying himself into her. He experienced a rolling sensation in his stomach—her orgasm. It made him thrust again, giving her what she needed, meeting her waves of pleasure, urging them on.

She was shuddering beneath him, her fingers biting deeply into his backside as her vagina tugged hard at his shaft, pulling him in even deeper still.

Finally, he slumped against her, burying his face into her pillow. He could feel her little hands pressing against his shoulder blades. He kissed her cheek, her chin. She laughed as he nibbled at her ear.

They kissed for a long time, touching each other, looking into each other’s eyes. Quinton remained erect and he took the opportunity to stay united with her for as long as possible. He didn’t want to pull out. The thought made his heart sink in a way he didn’t expect. It made him tremble.

‘Are you all-all right?’ she asked.

‘Just a little overcome.’ He rested his forearms on either side of her head. ‘I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave this bed. This room. I don’t want to do anything else. The thought … the thought …’ He shook his head.

‘… hurts,’ she finished for him.

‘The second stage is supposed to be the hardest. I don’t know how anyone could voluntarily break it. Surely, they must die.’

‘But you say only-only after the third.’

He nodded.

Aisha reached up to touch his cheek. Quinton turned his face to kiss her palm. Then he gripped her hand with a sigh. Her shining eyes met hers. He kissed her on the mouth. He felt her breasts press up against his chest and suddenly the urge to make them his became overwhelming.

He grabbed them, massaging them in his palms before leaning over to take her left one deep in his mouth. He sucked and sucked and sucked until Aisha cried out. He moved onto the other one. He felt greedy. He needed to ease the pain in his chest, the thickness in his throat, the heat behind his eyes. How did the other couples get through this and stay sane?

‘Oh!’ Aisha yelped.

Already he was stiffening, hardening, engorging, filling up her channel once again. Aisha sucked in a breath, then released it in a sigh. They both knew this was it. He could almost hear her thoughts. Or was it feel her feelings? It was hard to tell.

Quinton hardly needed to do anything. He could already fill the prickling of pleasure rushing up and down the circumference of his erection. Simply pressing against her soft interior was enough, having her breasts in his hands, her mouth against his. He thrust a touch, little more than a nudge. He could feel a wave of pleasure pumping through their partially-formed bond. Their bond. How did he instinctively know it? It felt like he’d grown an extra part of himself. An extra appendage, one that connected directly with her.

It was happening. It was already happening.

He nudged inside her again. Aisha turned her eyes to the ceiling as he nuzzled her cheek. At each nudge, a shot of heat rushed through her/his body. She gripped his shoulders, then wrapped her legs around his waist, thrusting up against him so she could pull him in deeper. It certainly worked. It was sudden and unintended: the hard throb down his shaft, the explosion of his orgasm. He’d hoped to make it last longer.

It was done.

Aisha’s eyes fell to his. Immediately, Quinton felt her wave of guilt and concern. She grabbed his face. ‘Are you all-all right?’ She touched her mouth with a start.

‘I’m fine.’

She started to cry.

‘Oh, Aisha.’ He wiped away her tears. ‘See? You had nothing to worry about.’

‘I’m so-so glad.’

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, then rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. She gazed down at him, her hair falling around her face as she touched what must be his normal cheek. He could feel her relief like waves crashing upon the sand, over and over again. She giggled as he nuzzled his nose under her ear.

‘I-I don’t want this night to end,’ she sighed into his neck.

Quinton rested his hands upon her back with a smile. He stroked her, running his hands down her sides, over her hips, then around her backside. ‘Me too.’

He turned his head with a frown.

‘What’s that?’ Aisha asked, hearing his I-Spy as it signalled upon the bedside table. They looked into each other’s eyes. They both felt each other’s regret. ‘I g-guess it means it’s over.’

‘I don’t need to answer it,’ he said.

‘Yes, you do.’

He brushed her hair away from her cheek. ‘I guess I won’t be able to hide anything from you again.’

‘Have you been hiding things?’ she smiled.

Quinton smiled back, then frowned as the I-Spy signalled again. He reached over. ‘Hello? Miktar? I’m kind of busy right now …’

‘We need you, Quinton. You won’t believe it.’

‘What?’

‘The impossible has happened. A Rictorian has fallen pregnant—to one of us.’

Quinton snorted. ‘Not a chance.’

‘That’s what Drake said.’

Quinton caught the tone in his voice. His eyebrows shot up. ‘It’s Drake?’

‘Yes. His female’s pregnant—and he’s the father,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ve confirmed it.’

‘Miktar …’

‘Just come!’

The I-Spy switched off.

Aisha cocked her head. ‘What’s happening? You—you feel funny.’

He sat up. Aisha slipped off him.

‘Are-are you okay? What did he say?’

‘It’s okay. It’s nothing bad. Very far from bad, in fact.’

‘Then, what is it?’

Quinton shook his head in dismay. ‘I can’t say.’