Chapter 360: Atlantic Theatre [13] [R-18 Contents!]
"Haa... hm..." She moaned softly, the sound loose and unguarded in a way none of her sounds had been until now. Her mind was clearly still reeling, still processing the sudden pleasure that had crashed through her completely without permission.
I looked at my fingers, thoroughly drenched, glistening in the diffused light.
Then I looked at Maribel.
She was lying still, chest rising and falling with slightly unsteady breaths. The flush on her cheeks had deepened considerably. One arm had drifted away from her side during her orgasm and hadn’t found its way back, lying loosely on the carpet beside her. Her legs had fallen somewhat open in the aftermath, no longer clenched, the tension that had defined her body since we’d started completely absent for the first time.
Her eyes were still closed, but differently now. Not held shut. Just... closed.
"Maribel," I called quietly.
"...yeah," she answered, her voice smaller than usual.
"How are you feeling?"
"I don’t know," she said honestly. "Strange. I didn’t expect it to feel like..."
She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to.
"That’s normal," I told her. "Your body responding that way is a good sign. It means the preparation is working."
A slight movement, not quite a nod, not quite a dismissal. Somewhere in between as she still hid her gaze from mine with her arm.
I could feel her arousal still on my fingers, still warm. I could see the evidence of it glistening between her thighs where her folds had parted slightly in her relaxed state, her body still flushed and swollen from what had just happened.
She was far more ready than she’d been sixty seconds ago. But not yet ready enough for what came next. A bit more and she would completely surrender herself
"I need to continue preparing you," I said. "A little more. Then we can move on and end it."
Her throat moved as she swallowed.
I took that as a yes.
I repositioned carefully, moving back between her legs, my left hand returning to her hip. I extended my index and middle fingers and pressed them back against her entrance still slick with her arousal, still slightly swollen from her first orgasm.
This time they slid inside with considerably less resistance.
"Hnn..." Her sound was softer this time. More involuntary than startled.
I began to move them properly now, with gentle strokes that curled slightly to find the sensitive spots inside her that would make her body understand what it was being asked to do. My thumb moved to find her clit, that small, swollen nub at the top of her slit and pressed against it with the lightest possible contact.
"Haah!" Her hips jerked immediately upward, her whole body jolting.
"Too much?" I asked her.
"N...No..." The word came out slightly strangled.
I kept my thumb where it was and began to rub in the most gentle, patient circles imaginable.
"Haaah... hmm...hmm..."
I worked her with both my fingers inside her and my thumb on her clit, watching her face track the pleasure, watching her body soften and open in real time. Her legs had stopped trying to close entirely. Her hands had unclenched from the carpet.
She was letting it happen now.
Not just enduring it.
"Hnn... haaah... something’s..." Her brow furrowed slightly.
"Let it," I said quietly. "Don’t hold it back."
Her breath came in shorter, quicker bursts. Her hips began to move with me rather than against me, rocking in the smallest possible rhythm, her body doing what it knew even though her mind was still catching up to the fact that it knew it.
"W...Wait... I... haah... I think I’m going to..."
"I know," I said. "Let it happen."
And this time when her orgasm hit her, she was almost ready for it.
Almost.
"HAAAH—mmnnff!!" She caught the sound quickly, pressing her fist against her mouth, muffling what would have been considerably louder. Her whole body arched, back lifting from the carpet, her thighs trembling visibly. Fresh heat flooded around my fingers in a rush.
I worked her through it completely this time, keeping my fingers moving, my thumb maintaining contact, giving her everything the first time she hadn’t gotten.
When her body finally stilled, when the last tremor moved through her thighs and faded, I withdrew my fingers slowly and let her breathe.
She lay there in the soft diffused light with her chest heaving and her fist still loosely pressed against her lips, staring up at the dark ceiling above us.
I looked at her heaving chest and found myself unable to look away.
Her white tank top was drenched in sweat, completely soaked through, enough that the fabric had gone nearly translucent, the outline and deep blue color of her bra visible beneath it with perfect clarity. The wet material clung to every curve, outlining the full shape of her breasts in a way that her dry clothes never had.
A bead of sweat rolled slowly from the hollow of her throat downward, tracing a glistening line along her caramel skin, disappearing into the shadow of her cleavage. Her face caught the diffused light similarly, skin luminous with perspiration, the flush of her two orgasms still burning visibly through her tan complexion, her cheekbones catching the glow.
I’d known she was beautiful before this.
Objectively so.
But right now, looking at her like this, I was genuinely seeing it for the first time.
It shamed me slightly, that particular realization. That it had taken this, her laid out beneath me, naked from the waist down, chest heaving, body glistening, undone for me to really see what had apparently always been there. I had beautiful women already. Extraordinary women who I loved and who loved me.
But any honest man looking at Maribel right now, in this exact moment, in this exact state, I didn’t think he could look away either.
My cock was practically painful in my pants, pressing insistently against the fabric, demanding attention I’d been denying it.
I reached for my belt.
Maribel heard the sound clearly, the clink of the buckle, and didn’t need to remove the arm draped over her eyes to flinch slightly. A small, involuntary tightening of her whole body.
I rose up briefly and shoved my pants down to my knees, letting my erection finally spring free. It stood fully hard, flushed dark, slightly uncomfortable from having been contained this long.
I returned to my knees between Maribel’s spread legs. One leg lay completely flat against the carpet, the other folded loosely at the knee. Her pussy was still glistening from her two orgasms, visibly swollen, pink and wet and ready in a way her body had arrived at entirely on its own terms.
"Maribel." I called her. "I’m going to do it now. Tell me when you’re ready."
A small pause. Her chest rose and fell.
"Just get it done," she replied.
Her voice was different from how it had been at the beginning. Less fragile. Steadier. Like she’d found some internal line and planted her feet on it. Made a decision and committed.
I’d expected nothing less from her, honestly.
I reached under her left knee, the leg lying flat and raised it, folding it back toward her body. Then I did the same with her other knee, positioning both legs bent and close to me as I settled fully between them. She offered no resistance to the handling. She’d surrendered that much to the situation.
I rested one hand on her raised knee for stability and reached down with the other to grip my cock. I stroked once, twice, positioning myself carefully, raising her knee slightly to achieve the right angle toward her drenched entrance.
When the head of my cock made contact with her slit, pressing against her slick, swollen entrance, I stopped.
"Hng..." Maribel groaned softly at the sensation of heat against heat, her fingers curling against the carpet.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
This was testing every limit of my self-control. The heat of her against my cock, the visual of her spread before me, the sounds she was making, the months of various biological pressures my Symbiote had been amplifying, all of it was screaming at me to just drive forward, to stop being careful, to take what was right there.
I held that back firmly.
Instead, I held still and let her natural arousal slick the head of my cock thoroughly, rolling slightly against her entrance to coat myself in her wetness. The motion made Maribel shudder beneath me, a fresh seep of her arousal releasing against my tip.
When I judged myself adequately coated, I tightened my grip on her knee and pressed forward with more pressure.
Her labia parted around me.
Her flesh opened slowly as I forced her entrance wider, the resistance real but yielding, her body slick enough, prepared enough, that it gave under the sustained pressure rather than fighting it.
The head of my cock began to enter her.
"Haa—hmmnn!" Maribel groaned immediately as her insides stretched around the intrusion, her fists clenching hard against the carpet, knuckles whitening.
I stopped and waited.
Her walls were impossibly tight around just the head of me, pulsing, adjusting, her virgin body trying to understand what was happening to it. I could feel the resistance still there, real and significant, but different from before. Yielding rather than locked.
I gave her thirty seconds.
Then I pushed slightly deeper.
Maribel’s eyes snapped open.
"Haah—God—hhaaa—" Her voice broke across the syllables, her head pressing back against the carpet, throat exposed.
"Still with me?" I asked, my voice more strained than I’d intended.
Her eyes found the ceiling above us rather than my face. Her chest was heaving. Her hands had released the carpet and were now pressed flat against the ground on either side of her, like she needed to feel something solid and real.
"Yes," she managed to say. "Yes. Keep going."
I kept going.
Inch by careful inch, I pressed deeper inside her, watching every expression that crossed her face, reading the line between discomfort and pain, between her body adjusting and her body objecting. Pulling back the slightest amount when her expression went too tight, pressing forward again when it softened.
The sounds she made were quiet but continuous, small, involuntary vocalizations that she clearly had no control over, the sounds of a body experiencing something entirely new and trying to process it in real time.
"Hnn... haah... hnn..."
"You’re doing well," I told her, because she was. "Almost there."
Her only response was a sharp exhale.
And then finally, I was seated inside her. The full length of me buried completely, her body having accepted everything despite itself.
I went completely still.
Maribel lay beneath me with her eyes open and her chest heaving and her hands flat against the carpet, staring at the ceiling.
"Haah..." She released a long exhale.
I waited. I had the patience for this much at least.
When I felt the tension in her thighs ease, when her internal grip shifted from clenched resistance to something more passive, I looked at her face one more time.
"Maribel."
Her eyes cut to mine, silent for a moment.
"I’m going to start moving now," I said. "Tell me if I need to stop."
"Don’t stop," she said. "Just finish it already."
