Unnatural Instinct: Transform

9.

He doesn't hesitate. Two long strides and he drops to his knees before you. Fearlessly, you reach out to touch his cheek. He doesn't stop you, watching you with his reptilian eyes. You brush your thumb across his bottom lip, then cup your hand around his big, square jaw.

His lips are parted as he pants. He swallows. 'I've been waiting for this a long time.'

'So have I.' You look away in confusion. Have you? Where did those words come from?

You look at him again. He doesn't move but continues to breathe heavily. He's gripping his knees and you can see the strain in his hands. You take one of them and press it to your breast. You both sigh. He's so warm. Gently, he cups it. His eyes have taken on a shine and you don't know whether it's from sadness or joy.

'You're here,' he says.

'I'm here.'

You touch his cheek again, then pull yourself to your knees. Understanding what you want, he drops to his bottom so you can climb into his lap. He's so large and comfortable and when he enfolds you in his arms you've never felt so safe.

Strange, to be safe in the embrace of a monster.

For a long time you both just sit there, holding each other, listening to each other's breathing and beating hearts. His is pounding fast, almost as fast as yours. You can feel it vibrating through your body. He gasps when you press your lips between his nipples.

He shifts on his bottom and you sense that he's getting uncomfortable. Not from your weight. Not from the way he's sitting. The reason is obvious. It's pressing up against your navel, hot and hard, like a living thing.

You ignore it for a while longer. You like the way things are right now. You like to be held, and, surprisingly, he doesn't hurry you. Not like the other monsters. Nor like the men you've known in real life. He waits. Warmth spreads across your chest. Tears prick the corners of your eyes. You look up at him and see that he's watching you. He's eyes are soft and his lips look softer still.

You're kissing him before your mind can catch up. His arms tighten around you as you tighten your arms around him. Then you're kissing furiously. No. You're kissing him furiously. Your body is burning; it's aching. It needs to be satisfied, but you don't want to move on. Why can't you just enjoy the kissing? You don't want to be disappointed again. Not by him. You've never enjoyed sex, no matter how 'experienced' your partners have claimed to be. You've never even had an orgasm. Not even on your own. And you fill with doubt that you're about to start now. Still, you want him. You need him.

You pull away from his lips to meet his dark hot stare. You can see the desire in his eyes. You can see the pain of it. With a deep breath, you look down between your panting bodies. Your stomach clenches—it looks even bigger than it did before. How is it going to fit?

He smooths his hand around your head, and his hand is so big that he could grip your head entirely. It's such an aggressive movement, and yet, somehow, it's not. He could crush your skull if he wanted but you know that that's the last thing he wants to do. He's so gentle. You look up at him and you can see the patience fraying in his eyes.

Making your decision, you lift yourself up to meet his lips. Seizing onto his erection, you slowly ease over him. He kisses you harder as you suck in a startled breath at the sting between your hips. You feel yourself stretch bit by bit to an impossible limit as you slowly encompass him. It stings a little more but the pain is bearable if you focus on his mouth, his tongue, his lips.

He seems to go forever. Surely there's not enough of you, and yet somehow there is. He sucks in a breath. You can feel how tense he is; his hands are trembling. He's deep inside now and it's nice. It's nice being a part of someone again, to be close to someone. It's been years.

Finally you reach the end of him, sitting in his lap with your legs on either side of him. You release a breath you hadn't realised you were holding and take another one as you press yourself into his chest. He wraps his arms around you again. You've never made love to a man like this before. It's strange and perfect.

You feel him press his cheek to your head. His warm breath makes your hair flutter. That smell, that earthy, pungent smell—it's back, the same as the lotion, but better, subtler. You suck it into your lungs. He gives the smallest thrust. You gasp. A second thrust soon follows. You're clutching onto him as you move with him, your head buried in his chest.

He moves faster and you grip onto him more tightly. He gives a little snarl that sends a shiver of dread down your spine and yet makes you burn all the more harder. You're getting close now. You throw your hips against his. You bury your head harder into his chest, enveloping yourself in his warmth and smell and love.

But still you struggle. You feel the end coming, that burning is coming, but no matter how hard you try you seem incapable of achieving release. Then he does something nobody has ever done before—he reaches down between your legs and begins to stroke you. You look up at him in surprise. He smiles, and you laugh.

As he strokes you more, you close your eyes and grip onto his shoulders, digging your fingers deeply into his big muscles. You can't stop it now. You feel yourself rising up. You feel something inside you soar. The burning is like fire. Just as he thrusts into you again ... just before you reach the end ...

You wake up.

You want to cry—it's not fair!—until you realise that it's not quite over. It wasn't just a dream. You still have that feeling and it's because you're doing it. You're stroking yourself. After a brief pause, you continue, just as he did, a little faster, a little harder until it happens! You give a little cry at the feel of yourself contacting deep between your legs. It's electrifying. You can feel it through your entire body like a blast of wonderful energy. You had never imagined it would be quite like this.

Panting, you gaze up at the ceiling, letting yourself ride the last of your very first orgasm. When it finally ebbs away you suddenly realise you're staring at a brightly lit ceiling. You turn your head—a bright blue sky is peering back at you through the windows.

It's daytime.