Chapter 16

But does the night end there?

Not yet

(All whispering.)

"My parents must be asleep by now, so let's be quiet."

You opened and closed the door slowly.

The moonlight illuminated the room enough that you could see where you were walking.

She headed for the stairs, but you stopped her by touching her arm, and said:

"Wait. We still have something to do."

She raised an eyebrow.

"...I owe you a drink."

She sat at the table. You brought out a bottle of Bourbon.

You poured her, then yourself. All while trying to make the mínimum noise.

Both seated. You raised your glass and said:

"Let's toast."

She took her glass. "To what?"

"To the beginning of this beautiful relationship."

"And you're going to make it beautiful?"

"Don't be like that to me, my dear. You know I care about you, in my own way. Stay with me, love me, worship me, and all you'll worry about is getting your daily dose of cock."

"God... You're so disgusting."

Clink!

As both drank, you asked:

"You liked the dinner?"

She looked at her glass for a few seconds.

"Yeah. It was... fun."

You smiled, "I quite like you."

"I know, I know... I wonder if it would be different if I were ugly."

"Here's to you not being ugly."

She laughed.

Clink!

"I've never had a dinner like that," you said.

"Not even with friends?"

"Well, with friends, yes. I mean I've never treated a lady before, how did I do?"

"You can definitely improve."

"Not bad for 4 days, huh?"

She nodded and offered you another toast.

Clink!

She took what was left in her glass in one gulp.

Going upstairs:

"I really hope we can have a dinner like that again."

"Maybe."

"Depends on what my wallet says, right?"

She nodded.

Both entered your room. You closed the door.

She stood near her capsule, fidgeting with her fingers. The low light from the window barely allowed you to make out her forms. Her hair reflected the light on herself.

"Hey..." She said.

You raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't want to ask you outside, but... how does it work that I have a penis and a vagina at the same time?"

"Uh..."

"Also my drool feels thicker and harder to swallow, can you ease that?"

From the sound of her breathing, you knew she was struggling to get every word.

"I think that's something inherent to your body. I can't do anything about it..."

"Oh..."

You invited her to sit on your bed and it didn't take her long to do so. Her hands on her legs. You were closer than usual. Your gazes scattered.

"About what you said earlier..." she said, "If we go to dinner again, I hope we'll be happier doing it."

You looked at her.

"What makes you happy?"

She looked up, and then into nothingness.

"Now? I don't know. If it were that easy to tell you, I would." She sighed. "It's funny. Maybe what little happiness I can experience is in sex."

"Speaking of which...”

“Hm?”

“If you want to know the answer to your question about your genitals... Well, it's easier to feel it than to explain it. I can try to make you happy, a little."

Your gazes quickly met.

"..."

"Can you?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

"If you want to."

She looked away, "I don't know..."

"I'll use my hand, I'll be gentle." Your voice straining to sound kind between whispers. "I promise."

"Is it going to turn out like your test of trust?"

"No, not at all. One thing is your head and another your..."

"But if you see me as your property..."

"Don't take yourself as my property now."

She took a deep breath.

"Do you really promise?"

You nodded.

A subtly defiant look on her.

"You know what to do?"

"Trust me."

Slowly your fingers awoke and approached her. Your palm, your arm, and your shoulder followed.

You put your hand on her thigh and she held your wrist.

"I just... I don't know." She told you, her previous gaze fading. Now she had a certain nervousness.

"If you want, I'll close my eyes, turn my head, and keep my distance," you proposed.

"It'll just be your hand? You won't escalate to more?"

"I won't."

"..."

"Really, I promise."

Slowly, she leaned back a little, resting on her arms. Her hands at her sides.

"Go ahead."

You close your eyes, turn your head, and only move your arm.

Your hand sails slowly aimlessly; it reaches a cloth. You palpate it.

Her belly, perhaps?

You go down; your fingertips distinguish a sinking, a separation.

You hear her inhale suddenly.

It's not so hard to know what you're touching.

You go down a little further and your palm sorrounds a small bulge. Fragile, soft. All through the fabric.

Your fingers encircle the bulge distinguishing a small cylindrical shape. Now it is smooth, but solid. It resists being completely molded by your touch.

You go up to descend again. This time, under the first cloth layer.

Warmer. You know the texture: her panties.

Your palm makes full contact and you rub slowly and gently up and down.

She lets out a moan that fades into silence. All that remains is her breath that deepens, stirs, and alters with your movement.

You move up once more to go deeper. Skin. Soft tissues that are slow to wrinkle unevenly. Direct heat emanates from the surface you are on.

The panties squeeze your wrist, making it impossible to pull away from the bulge.

Your fingers squeeze, gently, the cylindrical shape.

"Aahhh~!"

Her cock;

Now enlarging with palpitations that travel from base to tip and run through each of your fingertips.

With the member under your grip, you stroke up and down with more agility.

Her breathing quickens.

Her thighs, at the sides of your hand, trembling.

The phallus keeps enlarging and widening. The wrinkles on the surface gradually disappear, giving way to the shapes of veins. The skin is surprisingly docile; it is not difficult to caress it.

The member proves to be much larger than you first thought. Your fingers progressively separate from each other as they can't keep up with the growing size, but your grip remains firm.

From the way her sighs cut off, you know she's holding back her moans.

You pick up a rhythm. Up-down, up-down.

You hear her gasp.

She grabs your arm; not to stop it, but to hold it. Her resistance falters and the first moans escape her lips.

"Ahhh... aAhhh!"

Spontaneous moans.

"AAhh! Aaaaahh~"

Your own boner in your pants. Your hand doesn't slow its pace and increases the strength of its grip.

Both her hands squeeze your arm, shivering. Her breathing ragged, the moans barely taking something like a rhythm.

You opened your eyes, just a little, and turned to look at her.

She was looking at you. Not at your hand, not at her crotch. At you. At your eyes, directly.

Then, breaking your promise, you turned your gaze entirely to her. Your dark-accustomed eyes saw her gasp, and the bulge of your hand moving under her skirt.

As the movement was already too difficult, you pulled her cock out of her panties, but kept it under the skirt. Your grip intensified.

You increased the speed. Faster, faster. She frowned, gritted her teeth, and her moans became more guttural.

"NGHh~! NGHH!"

You brought your face closer, and breathed her breath. Bourbon.

A small kiss landed on her cheek.

Then she removed your hand from her crotch quickly.

Her erection was too visible. She quickly crushed her cock with her hands, hiding it between her skirt.

You caught yourself gasping. She was catching her breath.

She froze, there, with her hands crushing her shaft.

"Dea..."

Silence.

"2B?"