A profound stillness had settled over her small laboratory apartment after her confession, thick as the mercury vapor she sometimes worked with. The only sounds were the faint hum of the refrigerator and the frantic hammering of two beating hearts. Max stood before her, a statue of conflicted desire. The air between them crackled with unspent energy, heavy with the scent of old books, chemicals, and the sharp, clean perfume she wore.
Then, he moved.
"Woah, woah!" Bellatrix's surprised yelp was swallowed by the room as Max's arms, strong and sure from a life of physical discipline, slid beneath her knees and back. In one smooth, effortless motion, he lifted her from the worn sofa as if she weighed nothing more than one of her molecular models. Her clipboard clattered forgotten to the floor, her pen rolling away under a table.
Instinctively, her arms flew up to loop around his neck, her grey eyes wide with a thrilling mixture of shock and anticipation. The warmth of his body seared through both of their clothes. "Wh-where are we going?" she asked, her voice a breathless whisper against the column of his throat.
Max's amber eyes, dark and intent, looked down at her. There was a seriousness there now, a focus that had replaced his earlier amusement. "You said you wanted to experience sex, right?" he replied, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest and into hers. "So, I'm taking you to your bed. It's the most… proper place to learn." He adjusted his grip slightly, his fingers pressing firmly into the soft flesh of her thigh. "And you are a virgin. There's no way we're doing this for the first time on your couch. That's just… undignified."
Bellatrix processed his words, a slow nod following. He was right, of course. In all her fevered, private imaginings, it had always been in a bed. The clinical part of her brain noted the logic, even as the rest of her trembled with nervous excitement. "I see, I see. I understand…" she murmured, her gaze dropping to the strong line of his jaw.
"Where's the bedroom?" he asked, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.
Wordlessly, she pointed a slightly shaking finger towards a plain wooden door off the main living space. Without another word, Max carried her across the room, his steps sure and deliberate. He shouldered the door open, revealing a modest, tidy space—a single bed with a simple grey duvet, a bookshelf overflowing with scientific journals and a few well-loved novels, a small desk littered with more notes. It was a room of intellect, soon to be the scene of something profoundly physical.
He laid her down on the bed not with gentle care, but with a deliberate, possessive motion that made the springs groan softly.
"WOAH!" The second shock of the night left her breathless as she bounced slightly on the mattress. Her short silver hair fanned out across her pillow, a stark contrast against the dark fabric. She pushed herself up on her elbows, her grey eyes wide and luminous in the dim light filtering from the living room, watching as Max turned and firmly pushed the door closed. The soft but definitive click of the latch engaging sounded inordinately loud in the quiet room. It was the sound of a point of no return being crossed.
He turned back to face her, and the look in his eyes stole the air from her lungs. The friendly neighbor, the reluctant tutor, was gone. In his place was a man of pure, predatory intent. He wasted no time. He approached the bed, and before she could formulate another thought, he planted a knee on the mattress, then another, straddling her hips and caging her beneath him with his powerful form.
The weight of him was exhilarating. He was solid, real, a warm, breathing pressure that pinned her to the bed in the most thrilling way. He ran a hand through his tousled amber hair, a gesture that seemed both exasperated and resigned, before his fingers went to the hem of his simple cotton t-shirt.
Bellatrix's eyes went impossibly wider. She had imagined this moment a thousand times, but the reality was a sensory overload. The fabric stretched as he gripped it, then he pulled it up and over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside without a glance. Her breath hitched.
His torso was a landscape of lean, defined muscle. Not the bulk of a bodybuilder, but the honed, functional strength of a martial artist or a swimmer. A light dusting of hair trailed down from his chest, narrowing over a flat stomach. He was beautiful in a stark, masculine way that made her mouth go dry.
Then, his hands went to the button of his jeans. The shush of the zipper lowering was obscenely loud. He pushed them down his hips, along with his boxer briefs, kicking them off his ankles. And there he was. Fully naked. Fully erect.
'Tha-that's… too big!' The panicked, awe-struck thought screamed in her mind. Even in the dim light, the size of him was daunting. Thick, veined, and impressively long, it stood proudly against his stomach. The sheer, daunting reality of it, the anatomy she knew in theory but had never confronted in practice, sent a new, more potent wave of terror and desire crashing through her. This was no generic fantasy; this was Max, and he was… substantial.
Overwhelmed, she shyly averted her gaze, turning her head to stare at the wall, her cheeks burning with a blush that felt like it covered her entire body. She felt his focus, the weight of his amber eyes on her face, and it only deepened her flush.
Above her, Max let out a long, controlled sigh. The sound brought a sliver of his usual demeanor back, a touch of the teacher entering the charged space. "So," he began, his voice slightly strained. "The first thing to do, especially for a first time, is foreplay."
Bellatrix kept her face turned, squeezing her eyes shut. "Fo-foreplay?" she echoed, the word feeling clumsy in her mouth.
"Yeah," he nodded, his shadow falling over her. "It's important. It… relaxes you. Gets your body ready. It creates natural lubrication so it won't hurt as much." His explanation was clinical, a deliberate counterpoint to the intense physicality of the moment.
Bellatrix swallowed hard and gave a slow, jerky nod. She kept her eyes closed, as if by not seeing him, she could somehow control the riotous sensations inside her. "Then… do it," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Finger my pussy, or… whatever you want to do with it."
Max sighed again, a sound of both patience and burgeoning desire. He placed a hand on the mattress beside her head, leaning closer. His scent—clean soap, a hint of outdoors, and now pure, male heat—enveloped her. "Bell, look at me." When she didn't, he said it again, softer. "Bell."
Reluctantly, she turned her head and opened her eyes. His face was close, his expression serious. "We can still stop this," he said, his gaze searching hers. "You're nervous. That's normal, but it can cause problems—tightening up, pain. It's called vaginismus. And frankly," he added with a wry, almost helpless smirk, "I really don't want our first time together to end with a trip to the hospital. That's not the story I want to tell."
His pragmatism, even now, was oddly calming. She nodded, understanding. She was a scientist; she appreciated facts, even uncomfortable ones. She took a deliberate, deep breath, inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. She repeated the process several times, feeling her frantic heartbeat begin to slow to a steadier, though still rapid, rhythm. On her last exhale, she gathered the tattered remains of her courage.
"Alright," she said, her voice firmer. "But I have one question first."
Max raised an eyebrow, a ghost of his familiar humor returning. "Shoot."
She exhaled one more time, steeling herself. The most pressing variable in this experiment needed to be quantified. "Ho-how big is your… dick?"
A surprised laugh burst from Max, followed by another sigh. He shook his head, a smile touching his lips. "Sigh, Bell, seriously? That's your final question? Don't worry, it's… adequate. About eight inches. I measured it with a ruler when I was a teenager, like every other curious idiot." A flicker of something distant passed behind his eyes, a memory he didn't voice. 'Though, not like when I transmigrated before as Sylan. I had a massive one then, like ten inches—bigger than this, my original body as Max.' The thought was jarring, an echo from another existence, and he pushed it aside forcefully. This was here, this was now, this was Bellatrix.
Bellatrix, however, was shaking her head vigorously. "Nein, nein, nein!" The German negation slipped out in her distress. "That's not what I'm afraid of—that it might be small! Now I'm really terrified because you've just confirmed it's really, really big!"
Max couldn't help but laugh again, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Sigh, don't worry," he said, his voice softening into reassurance. "As I said earlier, I'll be gentle. I promise. This is your first time." He leaned down, his face inches from hers. "So, let me do all the work, alright? Just… try to relax. Let go."
Bellatrix nodded, finally meeting his eyes fully. 'Hi-his eyes, his hair! They're beautiful!' she thought, the fan-girl part of her mind re-emerging briefly. 'I mean, I know that already. I've always known. I've masturbated so many times imagining him, imagining him doing… hard, rough things to me.' The admission, even internally, sent a fresh, liquid heat pooling low in her belly.
"Okay," she whispered.
Max held her gaze for a moment longer, then his attention shifted. His hands, which had been braced on the mattress, moved. They went to the buttons of her white lab coat, still draped over her simple dress. His fingers, surprisingly deft, worked the buttons open one by one. The slow, deliberate nature of the act was more intimate than if he had simply ripped it off. He peeled the stiff fabric from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed.
Next was the dress itself. It was a practical, knee-length grey shift. He found the zipper at the side and lowered it. The sound was a slow, torturous purr. He eased the straps off her shoulders, and with a gentle tug, the dress slid down her body, leaving her in a simple set of white cotton bra and panties.
Bellatrix whimpered, a tiny, involuntary sound, as his knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He didn't pause, didn't tease. There was a purposeful efficiency to his movements now, as if he knew any prolonged seduction would shatter her already frayed nerves. He unhooked her bra with practiced ease—a skill that sent a jealous pang through her wondering where he'd learned it—and it joined the growing pile of clothes. Finally, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and drew them down her legs, leaving her completely bare beneath him.
Then, he went utterly still.
Max's breath caught in his throat. For all his world-weary experience, for all the women he'd known in this life and echoes of others, the sight of her stole his capacity for speech. She was… exquisite. Not in a polished, model-perfect way, but in a real, breathtaking one. Her skin was pale, almost luminous in the dim light, dotted with a few faint freckles across her shoulders and chest. Her breasts were small, high, and perfectly shaped, with tight, pink nipples that were already pebbled from the cool air and intense arousal. The line of her torso tapered to a slender waist, flaring gently to hips that were now tense against the sheets. And between her thighs, a neat triangle of silver-blonde curls, already glistening with undeniable evidence of her desire.
He swallowed audibly, the sound loud in the quiet room. "Yo-you're so beautiful, Bell," he finally managed, his voice thick with awe and a hunger he was desperately trying to leash. "I… I want to do it already with you. But I need to resist. This is your first time."
The raw, unvarnished admiration in his voice shattered her remaining defenses. Bellatrix felt the blush return, hotter than ever, and she instinctively tried to avert her eyes again, but he was everywhere, his hungry gaze feeling like a physical touch. He kept gulping, the muscles in his jaw working, a visible battle playing out on his handsome face.
"Bell…" he said, his voice a low caress.
He reached out and cupped her cheek, his palm warm and slightly rough. Gently, he turned her face back to his, forcing her to meet his intense, amber stare. In that moment, something shifted. The nervous virgin mirrored his gesture, her smaller, softer hand coming up to cup his stubbled cheek. Her touch was tentative, exploring.
"Max…" she breathed, his name a prayer and a promise.
The space between them evaporated. They moved at the same time, drawn together by a magnetism too powerful to deny. Their lips met in a first, tentative kiss. It was not explosive, but soft, searching. A question and an answer.
-KISS!
The first contact sent a jolt through both of them. Bellatrix's lips were softer than he'd imagined, slightly parted, tasting of the peppermint tea she'd been drinking earlier. Max's were firm, warm, coaxing. He let her set the pace at first, letting her explore the simple pressure.
-KISS!
She grew bolder, her lips moving against his, learning the shape of his mouth. A soft sigh escaped her, breathed directly into him.
-KISS!
Max responded, increasing the pressure slightly, his hand sliding from her cheek to tangle in the short hair at the nape of her neck. The angle deepened.
-KISS!
For a full minute, they stayed like that, lost in the surprisingly profound intimacy of the kiss. It was a connection that went beyond the physical, a silent communication of trust, curiosity, and burgeoning need.
Finally, Max broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at her. They were both breathing heavily.
"Haah, haah. Haaah~." The sound of their shared panting filled the room.
He couldn't stay away. He dove back in, capturing her lips again, this time with more urgency, more hunger.
-KISS!
-KISS!
-KISS!
-KISS!
Bellatrix gasped in surprise against his mouth, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she melted into it, her arms winding more tightly around his neck, her body arching up into his. She was learning quickly, her lips moving in sync with his, a clumsy but enthusiastic participant. She kissed him back with a fervor that belied her inexperience, pouring all her years of lonely fantasy into the act.
But the kiss, as wonderful as it was, was also a distraction from the main event. The ache between her legs was becoming a persistent, demanding throb. After another blissful minute, she placed her palms flat against his chest and pushed, gently but firmly, breaking the kiss.
Max looked down at her, confused, his lips swollen and damp.
"That's enough now, Max," she panted, her grey eyes dark with desire. "Can we… can we do it please?" It was a begging whisper, a plea to move from the prelude to the core experiment.
Max saw the determination mixed with the nervousness in her eyes. He nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. The gentle seduction was over. It was time.
He shifted his body off her, moving down the bed. He settled himself between her thighs, which she instinctively parted for him, though a tremble ran through them. From this vantage point, he had an unobstructed view.
And what a view it was.
Her vulva was a delicate, beautiful sight. The outer lips were slightly swollen, flushed a deep, enticing pink. Nestled within, her inner lips were slick and glistening, her virgin entrance visibly wet and beckoning. The sight was profoundly erotic, a pristine landscape awaiting its first conquest.
Max let out a soft, shuddering gasp, his intellectual resolve momentarily hijacked by pure, primal lust. He looked like a man presented with a feast after a long famine.
"Hahaha," he chuckled, the sound dark and warm. "You're already this wet? Just from a few kisses?" He looked up the length of her body, meeting her eyes, which were now watching him from between her splayed fingers as she covered her face in embarrassment. "Just imagine what's going to happen when I'm really inside you. How many times are you going to cum, I wonder?"
Bellatrix offered no answer, just a muffled squeak from behind her hands. The humiliation of being so openly inspected, so blatantly desired, was almost as arousing as the physical sensations.
Max leaned in closer, his breath hot against her most intimate skin. He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on her glistening core. "Bon appétit~," he murmured, the French words a decadent promise.
And then he descended.
"Wa-wait, slow down! Ahhh~!" Bellatrix's cry was one of sheer, overwhelming sensation as his mouth found her. There was no more gentle teasing. His tongue, broad and warm, swiped a firm, wet stripe from her entrance all the way up to her clitoris.
-LICK!
The sensation was electric, a white-hot bolt of pleasure that arched her clean off the mattress. Her hands flew from her face to clutch at the sheets.
-SLURP!
He focused on her clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, applying a gentle, rhythmic pressure that made her toes curl violently.
-KISS!
He placed open-mouthed kisses all around her folds, worshipping her with his lips.
-SLURP! -SLURP!
His tongue delved lower, spearing into her entrance, tasting her directly. The feeling of intrusion was foreign, incredible, wet and hot and perfect. He established a relentless rhythm: swirling around her clit, dipping inside her, sucking, kissing. He was an expert, reading her body's responses like a map, finding the spots that made her legs tremble and her breath hitch.
Bellatrix was utterly lost. The theoretical knowledge, the grainy videos, her own clumsy fingers—none of it had prepared her for this. This was an orchestrated assault on her senses, a chemical reaction of pleasure catalyzed by his skillful mouth. The coiling tension in her belly, which she'd only ever brought to a mild, solitary release, began to build with terrifying speed and intensity.
'Ho-how?! If this is making me feel like I'm going to explode, what will it be like when he's really inside of me?! How many times will I come?' The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
After five minutes of his dedicated feast, Max could feel her body tightening, her thighs clamping around his head, her hips beginning to stutter in tiny, involuntary circles. He redoubled his efforts, focusing his tongue on her clit, flicking it rapidly.
That was all it took.
"AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH~!" The scream was ripped from her soul, raw and unfiltered. Her back bowed impossibly, every muscle in her body seizing as her first orgasm, triggered by another person, crashed over her in a wave of blinding, convulsing pleasure. It seemed to go on forever, pulses of ecstasy radiating out from her core, leaving her trembling and gasping in its wake.
Max gentled his ministrations, lapping softly at her as she rode out the aftershocks, savoring the taste of her release. Finally, he lifted his head, his chin glistening. He looked utterly pleased with himself.
He moved back up her body, his own arousal painful and obvious. He knelt between her splayed thighs and gently took her face in his hands, one cupping her cheek, the other stroking her hair back from her damp forehead. His expression was serious again, but softer now.
"Seems you're ready, Bell," he said, his voice husky. He wanted to give her one last out, one final chance for sanity to prevail. "Are you absolutely sure about this? We can finish right here. We can forget this ever happened. I won't think less of you." He searched her eyes, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. "And don't worry. If we go through with it, I will be gentle."
Bellatrix's eyes fluttered open. She was wrecked—hair mussed, face flushed, lips swollen—but her grey eyes were clearer than they'd been all night. The nervousness was gone, burned away by the fire he'd stoked. She looked up at him, and a slow, sated, incredibly brave smile spread across her face.
"Haaah, haah, haaah~," she panted, catching her breath. "Do it already…"
She paused, her smile turning into something sly, something that hinted at the hidden depths of her desires. She looked up at him through her lashes, and the word she spoke next changed everything.
"…Daddy~"
It was a whisper, breathy and deliberate. A kink. A pet name. An acknowledgment of the seven-year age gap between her twenty-five and his thirty-two, and a deliberate invocation of a dynamic she clearly craved.
The effect on Max was instantaneous and profound. His amber eyes widened, darkening with a storm of new emotions—shock, a surge of possessiveness, and a dark heat that his gentlemanly persona had been holding back. He didn't reply with words. Instead, he leaned down and captured her mouth in a searing, possessive kiss, then trailed his lips down to her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there, as if instinctively beginning to mark what she had just offered.
He pulled back, nodding, his decision made. The last barrier had fallen.
He positioned himself, the broad, flushed head of his erection nudging against her slick, swollen entrance. He met her eyes, holding her gaze as he began to apply the faintest pressure.
"I'm going to go very, very slow," he murmured.
Bellatrix nodded, biting her lower lip. He pushed forward, an inch, then two. The tightness was immense, a heated, velvety vise.
Bellatrix grunted, a harsh, guttural sound of strain. "Gaah!"
Max froze immediately. "A-are you okay, Bell?" Concern etched his features. "If it hurts, we can stop right now. We can wait a few minutes, let you adjust…"
Through the sting, Bellatrix managed a wobbly smile. She reached up and touched his face. "Don't worry, alright, Max? I can do this. After all…" she took a shaky breath, "…I'm strong."
Her bravery, her absurd statement in the face of such an intimate invasion, broke the tension. Max let out a sigh that was half laugh, half groan of admiration. "You're incredible," he whispered.
He continued, a fraction of an inch at a time, his progress measured in millimeters. Bellatrix assisted by tilting her hips, and whenever he paused, she would kiss him—soft, reassuring pecks on his lips, his jaw—her way of telling him to continue.
Then, with one final, slow, inexorable push, he was fully sheathed within her. He was buried to the hilt, their bodies finally joined completely. He held himself perfectly still, letting her absorb the feeling of being utterly filled.
He looked down at her face. She had grimaced at the final stretch, a fleeting mask of pain, but it quickly melted away, replaced by an expression of dazed wonder. She smiled again, a real, beautiful smile.
She kissed him once more, a slow, deep kiss. When they parted, she let out a soft, incredulous laugh. "You're finally… fully inside of me." Her eyes twinkled with a hint of her old mischief as she looked down between their bodies. "And Max, you can move now, you know? Don't just stay stunned because you see a little blood on your dick. Hahahaha!"
She laughed, a genuine sound of relief and triumph. Max blinked and looked down. Sure enough, a faint smear of crimson, the proof of her virginity, stained the base of his shaft where it disappeared into her.
'Go-goddamnit!' The thought was a familiar echo. 'This is the second time there's been blood on my dick. I mean, I'm not terrified of blood, don't get me wrong. I'm just… shocked. It's been a long, long time since I've been with a virgin. Not since… Emhy.' The memory of the woman from his past life, his first in a long cycle of regression, tried to surface—her face, her smile, the way she'd felt around him. He shook his head, a sharp, violent motion, banishing the ghost. It was unfair. Unfair to Emhy's memory, and profoundly unfair to the brave, real woman trembling beneath him. This was Bellatrix's moment. Only hers.
He focused back on her. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay. I'm going to move now. Just… tell me if it's too much."
He began to withdraw, an achingly slow retreat, then pushed back in with the same measured pace.
-PLAP!
The sound was soft, wet, intimate. Bellatrix's breath caught, then released in a soft sigh. "Ahh~!"
-PLAP!
Another slow thrust. This time, her sigh deepened into a moan. "Aahhh…"
-PLAP!
"Ahh~!"
He established a gentle, rocking rhythm, far from the frantic pace of his fantasies or her whispered pleas. This was foundational, instructional, tender. He kept his eyes locked on her face, monitoring every micro-expression for signs of discomfort. Meanwhile, Bellatrix's world was narrowing to the exquisite friction building within her. The initial sting was fading, replaced by a deep, fulsome stretching sensation that bordered on pleasure. Her soft moans began to fill the room, a melody to the percussion of their joining.
-PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
As her sounds of pleasure grew louder, more confident, Max allowed his pace to incrementally increase. It was still gentle, still careful, but it was no longer tentative. He was making love to her, thoroughly and carefully.
Bellatrix's hands, which had been gripping the sheets, moved to his back, her short nails digging slightly into the hard muscles there. Her hips began to meet his thrusts with tiny, upward tilts.
Max felt it then—a sudden, fierce tightening deep inside her, a fluttering grip around his length. His eyes flew open wider. "Are you going to come?" he asked, awe in his voice. Already?
Bellatrix could only nod frantically, her eyes squeezed shut, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. The coil was winding again, tighter and hotter than before, fueled now by the delicious friction of him inside her.
Max continued his gentle, deep thrusts, anchoring her through the building storm.
"AAAAHHHHHH——" Her second orgasm tore through her, shorter but sharper than the first, a bright, clenching wave of pleasure that made her cry out his name.
As the pulses subsided, she went boneless, a sweaty, spent mess. "Haah… haaah… wait, Max, I'm still sensitive, can we—!"
But Max didn't stop. He maintained his rhythm, gently, persistently stroking her oversensitive nerves. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of too-much and not-enough that had fresh, shocked gasps falling from her lips.
"Ah! Hey, Max!" She tapped his sweat-slick abs with her fingertips. "I'm still sensitive! It's… a lot!"
But then she felt it. A change. A thickening, a hardening deep within her, a subtle pulse against her tender inner walls. 'It's… getting bigger inside of me! Is he… is he going to cum? Is that why he's not stopping?'
Max groaned, the sound strained. He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath hot on her lips. "Bell," he panted, "I'm going to cum. Don't worry… I'll pull out."
The words were like a dash of cold water on her post-orgasmic haze. Pull out? No. That wasn't part of the experiment. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted the full dataset, the complete experience.
Her grey eyes snapped open, fierce with sudden determination. "Nein!" she said, the German sharp and clear. "I… I want to feel it inside me!"
Max's eyes widened in surprise, then alarm, as he felt her legs, which had been lying limp at her sides, shift. They lifted, wrapped around his lower back, and locked at the ankles with surprising strength. "Wa-wait, don't tell me you're—!"
He tried to pull back, to disengage, but she held on with the tenacity of a limpet. She was using leverage, her heels digging into the small of his back, physically preventing his withdrawal.
"Bell, stop this! You don't want to get pregnant, right? We're not wearing a condom!" His voice was a mix of panic and desperate reason.
Bellatrix said nothing. She just stared up at him, her jaw set, her legs tightening their lock. Her expression was one of pure, stubborn will. She wanted his seed. She wanted the risk, the consequence, the ultimate claiming.
Max stared down at her, seeing not a nervous virgin anymore, but a woman of formidable, terrifying desire. He saw the scientist who wouldn't settle for half-measures. A wild, reckless part of him, a part he thought he'd buried, resonated with it.
He stopped struggling. A strange calm settled over him. He shook his head, a slow, accepting motion. "Fine," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "You want it so badly? So be it."
He leaned his weight into her, his thrusts losing their gentle cadence, transforming into something more primal, more purposeful.
-PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
He was chasing his release now, spurred on by her audacious act of possession. The room filled with the wet, rhythmic sound of their coupling. His control, already frayed, finally snapped.
"I'M CUMMING INSIDE OF YOU!!!" The roar was guttural, raw, a surrender to the animalistic urge she had provoked. "AND GET PREGNANT, YOU BEAUTIFUL, CRAZY BITCH!!!"
-SPURT~!
-SPURT~!
-SPURT~!
He slammed home one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he erupted. Jet after hot jet of his release flooded her depths, a shocking, liquid heat that seemed to go on and on, reaching deep, claiming her in the most fundamental way possible. The force of his orgasm triggered a third, smaller climax in her, a shivering, pulsing echo of his own.
For a moment, they were both suspended in a daze, locked together by her legs and the profound intimacy of the act. The world had narrowed to the point where their bodies met, to the heat spreading inside her.
Then, reality rushed back in with the need for oxygen.
"Haah, haah, haah~, Haaaah!!!" Their gasps were a ragged duet, mingling in the air between them.
Slowly, carefully, Max pulled out. A thick, pearly flow of his semen, mixed with a few lingering traces of her virgin blood, immediately began to seep from her well-used entrance, pooling on the sheets beneath her.
Bellatrix, her body thrumming with aftershocks, looked down between her legs. The evidence was undeniable, visceral. She reached a trembling hand and touched her lower stomach, as if she could feel the warmth spreading inside.
Max collapsed onto his side next to her, spent. He looked at her face, searching for regret, pain, anything. "Are you… in pain?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
Bellatrix shook her head slowly, a look of scientific fascination on her flushed face. "Nein, I'm all good. It's just…" she glanced again at the mess, "…you cum more than the normal men I've seen in pornographic videos. The volume is… impressive."
Max barked a laugh, the sound weary and amazed. 'Sigh, goddamnit, I should have known,' he thought, running a hand over his face. 'That damn bastard was right all along. Scientists, chemists… they really are crazy bitches.' But his thought held a strange admiration.
He pushed himself up on an elbow. "I guess… that's enough," he said, his body already craving sleep and cleanup. "Let's get you cleaned up before—"
"W-WOAH, WOAH!" Max's plan was cut short as Bellatrix's hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. Her grip was shockingly strong for someone who had just lost her virginity.
She pulled him back down towards her, her grey eyes gleaming in the low light. "Nein!" she stated firmly. "There is no way one round is enough. The sample size is insufficient."
Max's eyes widened in utter disbelief. "Are you fucking insane?" he hissed. "You just got laid for the first time in your life! You're probably sore! This should be enough. I don't want to hurt you!"
Bellatrix sighed, as if he were a slow student failing to grasp a simple formula. She reached up and traced a finger down his stubbled cheek. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial, honeyed whisper. "You should not worry about that…"
She paused, letting the anticipation build, her eyes locked on his.
"…daddy~"
The pet name, deployed a second time, and now after the intimacy they'd just shared, was a nuclear detonation. Max felt the last vestiges of his post-coital lethargy vaporize, replaced by a fresh, dizzying rush of desire and something darker, more possessive. She was playing with fire, and she knew it.
He stared at her for a long moment, seeing the challenge in her eyes, the unquenched hunger. He was defeated, and he knew it. "Fine," he breathed, the word a surrender. "Let's do it again. But it should be the last one, alright? Then we sleep."
Bellatrix nodded quickly, a bright, perfect smile on her face. "Promise!" she chirped. It was a lie, and a part of her thrilled at telling it.
Max positioned himself again. This time, as he guided himself back to her entrance, he found it significantly easier. She was slick with their combined releases, and her body, while still incredibly tight, had opened for him.
He slid in smoothly, in one long, continuous stroke until he was fully seated once more. He let out a soft groan at the sensation. Even after coming, she felt exquisite.
He began to move, re-establishing the same slow, gentle, considerate rhythm from their first round.
-PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
Bellatrix moaned, but it was a moan laced with frustration. She raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. "Hey," she said between breaths. "I thought you'd go faster this time? Now that the… initial calibration is complete."
Max shook his head, his body moving in that infuriatingly gentle tempo. "Nah," he said, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "This is still your first time, Bell. Even if it's our second round, your body is new to this. We need to be careful."
-PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
She sighed loudly, a sound of profound exasperation. As he kept clapping against her, she finally spoke again. "Go faster. No, I want you to go harder, Max."
He shook his head again, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "No can do. Because this is—"
She didn't let him finish. She surged up and captured his lips in a searing kiss, swallowing his protest. Max, surprised, didn't reject it. He kissed her back, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tangling with hers. Bellatrix reciprocated eagerly, but her technique was sloppy, unpracticed.
Max broke the kiss, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. "Hahaha, you're a bit of a noob at the French kiss, Bell?"
Bellatrix glared at him, though the effect was ruined by her swollen lips and glazed eyes. "Max," she said with exaggerated patience, "I am a fucking German, not a fucking French. And also, this is my first time, y'know?" She parroted his earlier words back at him.
Max chuckled and nodded, chastised. He began to move again, increasing his pace slightly, but he kept the thrusts shallow and careful, avoiding any deep, pounding motions.
Bellatrix moaned, but it was followed by a soft click of her tongue against her teeth. She was getting frustrated with his gentlemanly restraint. "Max…" she said, her voice a low, warning purr.
"What?" he asked, slowing again.
She looked him dead in the eye. "…What I said."
"To go faster and harder?" He sighed. "Bell, all I can do is fast. I don't want to go hard on you. Not tonight."
Bellatrix let out another long, suffering sigh. She brought her hands up to frame his face, forcing him to look at her. Her expression was deadly serious, all pretense of innocence gone. "Max… stop being a gentleman. Please. And fuck me harder. Please."
When he just stared at her, stunned into silence, she knew she needed the catalyst, the final reagent to trigger the reaction she wanted. She leaned up, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. Her whisper was so soft, so laden with sinful promise, it was almost inaudible, but he heard every syllable like a gunshot in the quiet room.
"Daddy, please~… go harder on me." She nipped his earlobe. "Don't be a pussy. Go on… say some dirty things to me. And also…" her breath hitched, "…choke me. Choke me as you keep fucking me harder…"
She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, to make sure he saw the raw, unfiltered want in hers. She delivered the final, devastating blow.
"…Daddy~"
Something inside Max's mind—the last vestige of his conscience, his control, his carefully maintained persona—didn't just break. It shattered.
A visible vein throbbed to life on his forehead. His amber eyes, usually warm like honey, went dark, the pupils swallowing the irises. A low, animalistic sound emanated from deep within his chest.
"Fine," he said, the single word dripping with a terrifying, quiet menace. "You want harder?"
Then, with no further warning, he pulled his hips back and slammed into her, a deep, punishing thrust that drove the air from her lungs in a shocked "Oof!"
-PLAP!
He did it again. And again.
-PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
The tempo was no longer rhythmic; it was a staccato barrage. At the same time, his right hand, large and powerful, snapped up and wrapped around her throat. His grip wasn't crushing, but it was firm, unyielding, applying a steady, dominant pressure to the sides of her neck, restricting just enough to make her gasp, to make her feel his absolute control.
"YOU CRAZY BITCH!" The roar filled the room, raw and unrestrained. "TELLING ME TO GO HARDER AND DARING TO CALL ME DADDY?! FINE! THIS WILL BE YOUR PUNISHMENT, YOU CRAZY, BEAUTIFUL BITCH!!"
He punctuated each shouted word with a brutal, deep thrust, his hips pistoning against hers with a force that shook the bed frame. The careful lover was gone, replaced by a dominant, unleashed animal.
Bellatrix's eyes flew wide, not with fear, but with pure, unadulterated ecstasy. This was it. This was what she'd craved, what her darkest fantasies were made of. Her body arched off the bed, not away from him, but into him, meeting each savage drive.
"Ahh~!" The first moan was shocked.
"Aaahhh——" The second was longer, a cry of surrender.
"Aaahhhh!!!!" The third was a scream of triumph, of perfect, masochistic bliss.
Another vein pulsed on Max's temple as he saw not just acceptance, but rapture on her face. 'This fucking… incredible, crazy bitch!' he thought, a mix of fury and awe fueling him.
He tightened his grip on her throat infinitesimally, just enough to make her eyes flutter.
"Wa-wait—!" she gasped, but it was a plea for more, not less.
He gave her more. He drove into her with relentless, punishing force, the sound of their collision a violent, wet percussion in the dark room.
-PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath hot and ragged. "That's right…" he growled, each word a blow. "This… is your punishment… for making me do this."
He hammered into her once more, a final, emphatic statement.
"You… crazy… bitch."