Sam and Harry finally do the deed. And then some.

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur of goodbyes and reassurances. Zoe and Tina gathered their things with unusual quietness, both women clearly processing what they'd witnessed. They hugged Samantha at the door—Zoe squeezing tight enough to make her ribs protest, Tina pressing a soft kiss to her forehead—and offered variations of "call me if you need anything" before finally disappearing into the hallway.

Samantha closed the door and turned to find Harry standing in the middle of the living room, his eyes dark and intense as he watched her. The air between them felt charged, like the moment before lightning struck.

Neither of them spoke. They just moved toward each other with synchronized purpose, meeting in the center of the room where their mouths collided with **** hunger. Harry's hands were immediately in her hair, gripping tight and angling her head for deeper access. Samantha's fingers found the hem of his shirt and tugged upward, breaking the kiss only long enough to pull the fabric over his head before her mouth was on his again.

"Bedroom," Samantha gasped against his lips, walking him backward down the hallway without breaking contact. "Now. Need you now."

Harry's hands dropped to her ass, lifting her slightly as he walked, and Samantha wrapped her legs around his waist. He stumbled against the doorframe of their bedroom, both of them laughing breathlessly at their lack of coordination, but then they were through the door and falling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Samantha pushed Harry onto his back and straddled him immediately, settling her weight onto his hips where his erection pressed prominently against his jeans. She could feel the hard length of him even through their layers of clothing, and the sensation made her roll her hips experimentally. Harry groaned, his hands flying to her waist to grip hard enough to bruise.

"Fuck, Sam," he breathed, his eyes glazed with lust. "You're going to kill me."

"Not yet," Samantha replied, reaching down to pull her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing anything fancy—just a simple cotton bra that did nothing against her hardened nipples—but the way Harry looked at her made her feel like the sexiest woman alive.

Harry sat up enough to reach behind her and fumble with her bra clasp. It took him three tries to get it unhooked, his fingers clumsy with arousal and nervousness, but finally the fabric loosened and fell away. Samantha's small breasts were exposed to the cool air, her nipples tight and aching, and Harry stared at them like they were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"Can I—" Harry started, then stopped, his cheeks flushing. "I mean, is it okay if I—"

"Yes," Samantha interrupted, taking his hands and placing them on her breasts. "Touch me. Please."

Harry's palms cupped her gently at first, testing the weight and shape of her, then his thumbs brushed across her nipples and Samantha arched into the touch with a gasp. Pleasure shot straight from her breasts to her core, and she ground down harder on his lap. Self-conscious thoughts crept into her head as his hands touched her small breasts for the first time, grabbing and reaching for something as if there was more than what was there. But despite the feeling of inadequacy, particularly in comparison with Harry's attention on Zoe earlier, she was in bliss.

They fumbled through removing the rest of their clothes with varying degrees of success. Harry's jeans required both of them working together to get them down over his hips, and when his cock finally sprang free—flushed and hard and leaking at the tip—Samantha felt her mouth go dry. She'd never seen one in person before, never touched one, and the reality of it was both intimidating and exciting.

Her own panties were soaked through, the cotton clinging uncomfortably to her sensitive flesh. Harry's fingers hooked into the waistband, and he looked up at her with a question in his eyes.

"Help me," Samantha said softly. "I've never... I don't know how to..."

"Me neither," Harry admitted, carefully peeling the fabric down her thighs, his breath heavy but reassuring. "Let's just...figure it out together?"

When they were both finally naked, Samantha positioned herself over Harry's cock, holding his length in one trembling hand while she tried to line him up with her entrance. The head of his cock pressed against her, and she began to sink down slowly.

The stretch was immediate and uncomfortable. Samantha winced, her body tensing against the intrusion, and Harry's hands on her hips tightened.

"Slow," Harry said urgently. "Go slow. You don't have to—"

"I want to," Samantha interrupted, but she paused, letting her body adjust to just the tip of him inside her. It burned in a way that wasn't quite pain but definitely wasn't pleasure either. "Just give me a second."

She breathed deeply, trying to relax her muscles, and felt Harry's thumbs stroking gentle circles on her hip bones. The tender gesture made her eyes sting with unexpected emotion—this man who barely knew her, being so patient and careful with her body.

"I've never..." Samantha started, then laughed weakly. "Obviously you know I've never. But I'm nervous and I don't want to disappoint you."

"You couldn't," Harry said immediately. "Sam, just the fact that you're here, that you're letting me—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "You're perfect. This is perfect, even if it's awkward and weird."

Samantha lowered herself another inch, and this time the discomfort was more intense. She bit her lip hard, breathing through the sharp sensation as Harry's cock stretched her wider than she'd ever been stretched before.

"Fuck," she gasped, obvious pain mixed with the pleasure.

"Do you want to stop? We can—" Harry's hands on her hips, gentle but firm, began lifting her.

"No," Samantha said firmly. "I want this. I want you. Just... talk to me. Distract me."

So Harry talked. He told her how beautiful she looked on top of him, how incredible it felt to be inside her even though they'd barely started, how her small breasts were perfect and he wanted to spend hours just touching them. His words wrapped around her and Samantha found herself relaxing fractionally, her body accepting more of his length. The words were a salve even if she kept being bombarded with thoughts of Zoe's perfect breasts. Sure, Harry was saying he loved breasts, found them perfect, but like... everyone loved Zoe's.

Inch by careful inch, she lowered herself onto him. The burn persisted but gradually began mixing with something else—a fullness, a sense of completion, a rightness that transcended the physical discomfort. When she finally sat fully on his lap, her pussy driven to the hilt with Harry completely inside her, they both went very still.

"Oh my god," Samantha breathed. "You're... that's..."

"Yeah," Harry agreed roughly. "That's... fuck, Sam, you feel incredible."

They stayed like that for several moments, just adjusting to the sensation of being joined. Samantha could feel every inch of Harry inside her, could feel him pulsing slightly with his heartbeat, could feel the stretch and fullness and strange pleasure-pain of it. Her hands rested on his chest, feeling his rapid breathing and racing heart beneath her palms.

"I'm going to try moving," Samantha warned him. "Tell me if anything feels wrong."

She lifted her hips experimentally, rising until only the head of his cock remained inside her, then lowered back down slowly. The drag and friction was intense, and this time there was definitely pleasure mixed with the discomfort. She did it again, establishing a slow rhythm that her body could handle.

Harry's hands on her hips helped guide her movements, lifting her and lowering her with gentle assistance. His eyes were locked on her face, watching every expression, every wince and gasp and eventual smile as pleasure began to overtake pain.

"Okay?" Harry asked between gritted teeth, clearly struggling with his own control.

"Getting there," Samantha replied, rolling her hips in a way that made them both moan. "Oh. Oh, that's... that's good. Do that again."

They found a rhythm gradually, their inexperience showing in their lack of coordination but their connection making up for technical skill. Samantha's movements became more confident, her body adjusting to Harry's size and the sensation of riding him. The discomfort faded to background noise, replaced by growing waves of pleasure that built with each roll of her hips.

"Is this okay?" Samantha asked breathlessly, increasing her pace slightly. "Am I doing this right?"

"So right," Harry groaned, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks. "You're perfect, Sam. So fucking perfect."

The praise was mixed for her, but it made Samantha bold, and she began experimenting with different angles and speeds, learning what made Harry gasp and what made her own pleasure spike. 'So fucking perfect' he said. Sure, yes, but also, couldn't this have been even more perfect? Thoughts flashed with every thrust, Sam atop him with bigger breasts... breasts like Zoe's, his eyes tracing their every movement.

Those errant thoughts didn't matter though, because the next thrust, she leaned forward, changing the angle so his cock hit something inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes and she cried out in surprise.

"There," she gasped. "Right there, don't move—"

Harry held still while Samantha ground down on him, chasing that perfect angle and the building pressure in her core. Her small breasts bounced with her movements, and Harry's eyes followed them hungrily before his hands came up to cup them, his thumbs brushing across her nipples. And while she was in bliss, his attention on her small breasts just fueled that nagging insecurity even more.

The combined sensations—his cock inside her, his hands on her breasts, the friction against her clit—pushed Samantha closer to an edge she'd only ever reached alone. But this was different, more intense, building in a way that felt almost frightening in its power.

"I think I'm going to—" Samantha started, then moaned as pleasure crested through her. "Oh fuck, Harry, I think—"

"Come for me," Harry urged, one hand dropping from her breast to where their bodies joined, his thumb finding her clit and circling gently. "I want to feel it. Want to feel you come on my cock."

The dirty words combined with the perfect pressure on her clit sent Samantha over the edge. Her orgasm hit her hard and sudden, pleasure radiating through her body in waves that made her inner muscles clench rhythmically around Harry's length. She threw her head back and cried out, her hands bracing on his chest as her hips jerked erratically.

Harry groaned beneath her, his own control shattering at the sensation of her coming around him. His hips bucked upward, driving deeper, and then he was coming too—his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his release.

Samantha collapsed onto Harry's chest, both of them breathing hard and covered in a light sheen of sweat. His arms came around her automatically, holding her close while aftershocks continued to pulse through both their bodies. Inside her, she could feel his cock softening gradually, could feel the warm wetness of their combined release beginning to leak out.

"That was..." Samantha started, then stopped, not sure how to finish.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, his hand stroking slowly up and down her back. "It really was."

Harry held Samantha against his chest, one hand stroking slowly through her hair while the other rested on the small of her back. His mind cleared slowly and he was happy and spent. His cock had slipped out of her at some point, leaving him feeling strangely exposed despite the pleasant ache in his muscles. His muscles, these average things, on his average body. The clarity brought back the insecurities, how could someone as perfect as Samantha really find him attractive? The feeling of their combined release leaking out of her and onto his thigh distracted him briefly, and he could smell the musky scent of sex hanging heavy in the air.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice soft with concern. "I know I keep asking, but I need to know you're actually okay. Was I.."

Samantha lifted her head from his chest to look at him, and there was a smile playing at her lips despite the exhaustion clear in her eyes. "I'm more than okay. That was... Harry, that was everything I hoped it would be."

"Even though it hurt?" Harry pressed. "Even though we were both awkward and had no idea what we were doing?"

"Especially because of that," Samantha said firmly. "We supported each other. That's what made it perfect."

Harry's chest felt tight with emotion he couldn't quite name. He had only had her for a scant few days but already felt like he'd do anything to keep her. He pulled her down for a soft kiss, this one gentle and exploratory rather than **** and hungry. Samantha's mouth opened under his easily, her tongue sliding against his in a now-familiar dance.

When they broke apart, Harry noticed his cock was already showing interest again, twitching against his thigh as blood began flowing south. Samantha noticed too—her eyes dropping to his groin and widening slightly.

"Already?" she asked with a breathless laugh. "We just finished."

"Sorry," Harry said, feeling his face flush. "I can't help it. This perfect woman is lying naked on top of me and I just had the best experience of my life. Of course my body wants more."

"Don't apologize," Samantha said, shifting her hips so his growing erection pressed between them. There was something in her eyes, not quite a wince but clearly other thoughts about his use of the word 'perfect'. "I'm taking it as a compliment. And honestly..." She bit her lip, looking suddenly shy.

"Honestly?" Harry prompted, his hand sliding down to cup her ass encouragingly.

"I'm kind of... fuck I'm still really horny too," Samantha admitted. "I'm sore, but in a good way? And I keep thinking about how fucking good it felt when you were inside me, and I want to feel it again."

Harry groaned, his cock surging to full hardness at her words. "Fuck, Sam. You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?" Samantha asked, rolling her hips so his length slid through the wetness between her legs. "We're supposed to be honest with each other, right? No games, no pretending. Just us figuring this out together."

"Right," Harry agreed breathlessly. "Honest. I can do honest. Honestly, I want to fuck you again. I want to do it better this time, now that we know what we're doing."

Samantha's eyes darkened with renewed arousal, and she reached between them to position his cock at her entrance. But instead of sinking down immediately, she paused, a timid smile crossing her face.

"You know what might help?" she said, her tone teasing but also nervous. "Imagine me with big tits like Zoe. If it helps. Really big ones, bouncing while I ride you. I know you liked them. Fuck, I like them. Everyone does."

Harry blinked in surprise, then laughed—actually laughed—at the absurdity of the suggestion. "Are you serious right now?"

"Why not?" Samantha replied, grinding down slightly so just the tip of him entered her. "All four of us were very aware of the way you looked at her breasts tonight. And Tina's ass. I'm not jealous, I'm just... curious. Does imagining me with huge tits turn you on more?"

"You turn me on," Harry insisted, but even as he said it, his brain supplied the image—Samantha's lean body topped with massive breasts like Zoe's, heavy and bouncing with every movement. His cock twitched inside her at the thought, and Samantha's knowing smile widened.

"Liar," she accused playfully. "You just thought about it and it made you so. fucking. hard. I felt it, no lying mister."

"Fine," Harry admitted with a grin, and in a moment of his promised honesty, allowed his own insecurity to be revealed. "Then you can imagine me like a muscular hunk if it helps you! Imagine I have abs you could wash clothes on and arms that could pin you down easily. I know I don't spend too much time at the gym but imagine if I did."

Samantha laughed, but Harry caught something in her expression—a flash of interest, of curiosity, like she was actually considering it. "A muscular hunk, huh? That's oddly specific. I really like you as-is though."

"You started it," Harry pointed out. "With the big tits comment."

"Fair enough," Samantha said, and then she sank down onto him fully in one smooth motion that made them both gasp.

The second penetration was easier than the first—her body already adjusted to his size, already slick with their previous release. But it still felt incredible, that sensation of being completely joined, and Harry's hands gripped her hips hard as she began to move.

They found their rhythm quickly this time, Samantha rising and falling with increasing confidence while Harry's hips thrust up to meet her. The awkwardness from their first time had vanished, replaced by growing synchronization as their bodies learned each other's patterns.

But Harry couldn't shake the mental image Samantha had planted. His eyes tracked her small breasts bouncing with her movements, and his brain kept overlaying the image of them larger—fuller, heavier, like Zoe's massive tits straining against her low-cut top. The fantasy was vivid and detailed, and he found himself fixating on it even though he knew it was ridiculous.

Samantha was experiencing something similar. She looked down at Harry beneath her—his lean but unremarkable body—and couldn't stop imagining it more defined as he had hinted. Abs appearing beneath his pale skin, his arms becoming more muscular, his chest broadening and becoming more powerful. The image stuck in her head with surprising persistence, and she realized she was actively focusing on it, willing it to be real.

Their breathing began to synchronize again, matching the pattern from their Sync moment during the kiss. Harry felt it happening—their separate rhythms aligning until they were breathing as one entity, their heartbeats falling into the same cadence. The connection between them intensified, and suddenly he could feel echoes of Samantha's pleasure alongside his own.

"Do you feel that?" Harry gasped, his hands sliding from her hips to her breasts, cupping them gently. "The connection thing?"

"Yes," Samantha moaned, her pace increasing. "The Sync. It's like earlier, but different. More... physical?"

Harry's thumbs circled her nipples, and he felt the sensation from both perspectives—the pleasure in his thumbs from touching her soft flesh, and the sharp jolt of arousal from her nipples being stimulated. The double sensation made him dizzy with need.

Samantha was caught in the same loop, feeling Harry's cock inside her from both sides—the tight heat gripping his length, and the full stretch filling her completely. It was overwhelming and perfect, and she couldn't tell anymore where she ended and he began.

Their movements became more fluid, more synchronized, like they were dancing to music only they could hear. Harry's hips rose to meet her descending movements with perfect timing. Samantha's internal muscles clenched around him in rhythm with his thrusts. They were moving as one organism with one purpose.

And through it all, the mental images persisted. Harry couldn't stop imagining Samantha's breasts growing fuller in his hands. Samantha couldn't stop picturing Harry's body becoming more defined beneath her. The fantasies intensified with their arousal, becoming more vivid and detailed until they felt almost real.

"Fuck," Samantha gasped, her pace becoming erratic as she approached her edge. "Harry, I'm going to—"

"Me too," Harry groaned, his fingers digging into her hips. "Come with me, Sam. I want to feel you come with me."

Their orgasms built in perfect synchronization, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in their cores until it had nowhere to go but outward. Samantha's movements became ****, her small breasts bouncing frantically as she rode him harder, and Harry's hips pistoned upward to meet her with increasing ****.