Lincoln and Linka knelt facing each other in the middle of Lincoln's bed, Linka's hands resting on her knees and her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, and Lincoln drinking her in with his eyes, from her beautiful blush to the bare flesh of her knees poking out from under the hem of her skirt. Their resemblance, which bothered him just a few short minutes ago, was completely forgotten; she was beautiful, and when she ducked her head and giggled nervously, sweeping her hair behind her ear, it was like sweet, ethereal music. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Lincoln said, his voice quavering, "what?" He didn't know how long they kissed, savoring the taste of each other's mouths and letting their hands wander over one another's bodies, but it was certainly enough to intoxicate them - the room seemed to spin and her smell was everywhere, fresh and faint like summer rain. She smiled sheepishly at her lap, looked up at him with those big, light-filled brown eyes, and coquettishly bit her lower lip.
The urge to reach out and softly caress her face came over him, but he stayed his hand.
"Can...can you take your shirt off?"
She hesitated as she spoke, and her eyes darted diffidently away, her lips puckering in a sly, girlish smile. Omg, it said, I can't believe I asked him that. Maybe he was weird, but there was something satisfying about it, and really attractive. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated himself, suddenly self-conscious about his body in a way he'd never been before. It was funny: In the past, he had no reservations about taking his his shirt off in front of a girl, even one he liked. Now, though, he had all the reservations.
Perhaps sensing this, Linka turned her eyes to him. They were warm, tender, and inlaid with familiar need. "Please?" she asked. "I-I wanna see you." She glanced away then back. "I-I'll take mine off too."
His gaze went to the buttons along the front of her blouse, then to the gentle swell of her breasts. Her offer, combined with what she said, gave the confidence he needed. Looking down at the bed, he slipped one arm out, then the other, then pulled it over his head and tossed it away. Linka's eyes widened and she sucked a sharp breath, the corners of her lips turning up in an appreciative smile. She reached for him, then stopped. "Can I t-touch you?" she asked.
"Yeah," Lincoln saiid. He tried to think of something to add so that it didn't sound so curt, but his brain couldn't come up with a single thing.
Linka scooted closer, a fierce look of determination crossing her face as she lifted her shaky palms and slowly laid them flat on his chest, biting off a giggle. Her touch was soft, warm, and delicate, like lace, and Lincoln's heartbeat sped up. She brushed her teeth across her bottom lip then moved her hands over him in wide, lazy circle, her slender fingers exploring his flesh and her palms molding to his ridges and contours, making his heart burst and his erection jerk. Her lips parted in a big, open mouth smile and her eyes shimmered with delight. She looked like a girl finally and happily indulging a long-held fantasy.
Wow...she's excited...for you.
She'd wanted, and needed, this for so long, just like him, and he was the one giving it to her, the one satisfying her desire, the one pleasing her and making her face red, the reason her heart pounded sickly when he touched her chest during their kiss, the reason that even now she trembled like a small, excited animal and panted for air.
That thought made him dizzy.
Licking his lips, he gazed at her face as the burning sensation of her touch filled him, arching his back slightly to give her better access. He failed to notice that his boner pushed out as well, but Linka didn't; her eyes flicked to it and her breath caught. She sucked her bottom lip in and gilded her hands over his pecs, leaning closer as if for easier examination. She glanced up again, then kneaded him with her fingers like a mischievous kitten, laughing airly at the gasp that tore from his throat. "Wow," she breathed, "this is really hot."
"Yeah," he said, "i-it is."
She ran her hands down his stomach, pressing more firmly, her breathing becoming ragged as her arousal swelled. She stared intently at his chest…leaned forward until her lips touched him and placed a slow, sizzling kiss above his right nipple. He tensed, and she pulled away, looking up into his eyes with something like fear. "I-I'm sorry, I-I should have asked."
"No," he said, "it's fine. It just...it felt really good."
"Oh," she said, then grinned. "Want me to do it again?"
Lincoln nodded.
"Good," she said. She leaned forward and kissed him again, her lips burning and soft like velvet fire. Lincoln drew a keen breath and slipped his hand into her warm hair as she trailed gentle kisses across his flesh; in turn, she laid her hands on the tops of his legs and rubbed her fingertips against the rough fabric of his jeans. Lincoln closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and grazed her scalp, focusing entirely on this moment - on the feeling of her lips touching his body, on her saliva blistering his skin, on the clean, sweet smell of her shampoo and on the way she panted and trembled in excitement. She moved from the center of his chest to the right, her kisses becoming quicker, briefer, the faint and fleeting touch of downy linens. He bent his head and kissed her hair, reveling in her scent and letting it work on him like an aphrodisiac. His dick ached painfully, crying out to be sunk slowly into the girl before it, but despite the heady lust crashing against him like a pounding Category 5 storm surge, he wanted to take his time, to fully and thoroughly appreciate her body and the things they did together.
Pulling away, she looked at him with hazy, lovedrunk eyes, her smile one of disbelief and satiation. "D-Do you wanna touch me now?" she asked.
Lincoln's head bobbed up and down, and she laughed. "Okay," she said, and fluttered her hands to the top button of her blouse. They shook as she undid it, and Lincoln swallowed thickly. She watched her hands as if to make sure they did the task her brain demanded of them; she fumbled on the second one and giggled. "I'm kind of nervous," she said. "Sorry."
"Don't be," he said, "I'm really nervous too."
The second one came free, and he caught a teasing flash of white against creamy smooth skin. She undid the third, then the fourth, her hair sweeping across her face; she tucked it back behind her ear and stole a hurried glance at him. "Sorry," she said. She undid the final one, took a deep, steadying breath, and looked up and into his eyes as she slipped it over one shoulder, then the other. Her bra was plain white with a thin, lacy fringe, and her skin was supple, its paleness bespeaking purity. She didn't have much in the way of hips, but there was enough of a curve for you to rest your hands on, and Lincoln wanted to cup them so bad he looked like that guy from the meme, the one trying not to fart next to a pretty girl and really straining to keep it in. "I'm kind of scrawny," she said shyly. "And pasty. And not pretty."
"Yes you are," Lincoln said quickly, then realized with a rush of horror that it sounded like he was agreeing with her. "I mean...you're beautiful."
A slow, happy smile spread across her face and she ducked her head as if to hide it. "T-Thanks," she said, "I don't think so."
"I do," Lincoln said. He gave into his urges, raised his hand, and held her cheek in his palm. She blinked and met his eyes - he wasn't experienced enough to know exactly what he saw in them, but they made his sour stir nonetheless. "You're really beautiful, Linka," he said, her name slipping ou unintentionally but feeling right and good on his lips. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sun and her radiant smile made Lincoln's heart skip.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You're really beautiful too." He didn't realize that their faces were drawing closer together until the tip of his nose brushed hers - their gazes held fast, and when she exhaled, he inhaled, breathing her in, tasting her, relishing her. She bit her bottom lip, then they kissed, slow and sweet, their tongues dancing in a leisurely and unhurried waltz, Lincoln taking her face in his hands and Linka reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, her fingers fumbling as he kissed her deeper, made love to her mouth with his.
He only noticed what she was doing when he pulled back, and the straps sagged down her bare arms. She pressed it to her chest and stared trepidatiously into his eyes. "They're not very big," she said self-consciously.
"They don't need to be," he said earnestly and caressed her cheek. She smiled, flicked her eyes down, and let her hand flutter away, pulling one arm out, then the other, and dropping the bra to the bed. Lincoln's heart staggered in his chest and his dick howled like a wolf at the moon: Her breasts were small but full, her flesh like ecru and her areolas a light, blushing pink. Her nipples were erect, and visible goosebumps raked her skin. It might be cliche to compare a girl's breasts to flowers - he didn't know - but as he gaped at them, that's what he was reminded of, delicate flowers beginning to open and bloom in the warm light of the spring sun.
Between his legs, his dick tried to wrench away from his body, and he could feel it starting to leak into his underwear.
She looked worriedly into his eyes. "Do you like them?"
Her eyes were pooled with anxiety, and Lincoln couldn't understand why. She was beautiful from head to toe; didn't she see that? "I love them," he said. He stroked his hands down the sides of her velvety throat and over her shoulders, swallowing when she tilted her head back and sighed deep in the back of her throat - giving herself utterly and willingly to his touch. He pressed his palms flat against her shoulders and ran them slowly along the ridge of her collarbone, then over her quivering breasts, both of them gasping: They were warm and soft in his hands, and her heart slammed unsteadily in the cup of his palm. She twisted slowly from side to side, squirming against him and humming her approval.
He moved his hands in a wide circle much as she had done to him, her nipples scraping against his palms and his fingertips massaging her skin. "That feels really good," she panted.
"You feel really good," he croaked.
"You can be a little rough," she said, "I like to pinch them."
He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and gently tugged, searching her face for cues. She sucked her bottom lip in and moaned when he did it again, harder this time. "Ummm, like that," she breathed, her heart pounding faster. Lincoln licked his lips - he wanted to kiss her neck and her shoulder, but he didn't want to stop focusing on her nipples since playing with them was making her feel so good. Digging his fingers into her, he kneaded with the heels of her palms, and she let out a sharp gasp. Her head flopped forward, and Lincoln sputtered at the animal hunger he saw in her eyes. She grabbed his face in her hands and fused their lips, her tongue ficking out and swiring crazily around his. He let go of her breasts, grabbed her hips, and pulled her body tight against his, his bulge prodding between her legs and making both of them shudder. She tilted her head to one side and jammed her tongue as deep as it would go; Lincoln wrapped his lips around it and pulled slowly back, not aware that his hand was creeping up her skirt until they brushed across the soft, warm, and squishy fullness of her pussy; her damp heat was incredible, and her panties were sodden with her arousal.
Holding her femininity in the palm of his hand, her began to rub back and forth, his middle finger sinking between her cotton clad folds and making her moan into his mouth. She let go of his face, slipped her hands between his legs, and started to knead his bulge, her French tipped fingers stroking and tracing his outline. Pleasure filled his skull in a blinding white flash, and he paused for a minute as it spread through his body like a brush fire. Linka smiled against his lips and playfully licked his tounge. He smiled back and dragged his finger through her crease; her eyes crossed cutely and she moaned, a shudder racing through her lithe frame. She giggled and skipped her fingers over his shaft, her thumb brushing the head. "Two can play at that game, mister," she said.
Lincoln smirked. "Yeah? I can get pretty competitive." He pressed the heel of his hand firmly against her and moved his hand slowly over her sex; her eyes rolled back into her head and she gave his erection a tender squeeze.
"I have ten brothers," she said when she got ahold of herself. "Nothing makes you as competitive as that."
Oh? "That sounds like a challenge."
She cocked her brow. "It is."
"Okay," he grinned. He pulled his hand away, found the waistband of her panties, and slipped in, the soft touch of her hot, silky skin against his palm sending his heart careening like a train off the rails. Linka's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then lidded when he cupped her and pried her sticky lips apart with his middle finger. She ghosted her fingers to his belt buckle and worried at it for a moment, pulling and tugging, before getting it.
Taking the tab of the zipper between her thumb and forefinger, she pulled it down, then reached in, her nails scratching his mound as her hand dipped into his briefs. When her fingers closed around his rod, his entire body tingled pleasantly, and Linka's pupils dilated, the corners of her mouth turning sharply up. He'd touched his dick a million times in the past, but never had his own hand been this soft, this warm, this gentle. "Wow," she drew, and squeezed inquisitively. "You have no idea how much this turns me on."
Lincoln caressed his finger between her lips, her burning fluids seering his skin. "I think I might have some idea," he said archly.
She drew a hitching breath and bowed her head, her chest heaving. "T-That turns me on a lot too," she said. "Like...I'm really close."
The way she leaked onto his hand testified to that. "So am I," he said. As if suddenly remembering that she was gripping him, Linka gave a firm stroke along his shaft, her fingers smearing his precum across his tightening skin. Her brow crinkled in confusion, and she tilted her head to one side. "You're wet like me. I didn't know boys did that."
"Yeah," he said, "when we're, uh, really turned on."
Linka smiled prettily. "I really turn you on?"
Lincoln nodded. "A lot." For some reason that he couldn't even begin to fathom, simply telling her that felt tremendously good.
"You turn me on too," she said and bobbed her hand down to his base. "If there's a special way you like or anything, tell me," she said. "I really like playing with my clit. It drives me up the wall."
Clit, clit, clit - Lincoln had heard the term and knew roundabout what it was (a girl's pleasure button, he'd read) but he didn't know where exactly it was. He felt a rush of shame, but Linka's warm smile disarmed him. "Where, uh, where is it?"
"I'll show you," she said. She snaked her free hand under her skirt, laid it on the back of his, and guided him up, staring into his eyes with sly smile as she did it.; his fingers brushed her satiny lips and he swallowed hard, his dick pulsing in her hand and leaking crazily. When his middle finger touched something like a nub, she let go. "There. It feels crazy good when you rub it."
He skimmed his finger tentatively over it, and Linka trembled, her smile widening. "Like that," she said. She wrapped her fingers tightly around him and moved up his shaft with agonizing deliberation. He pressed his finger to her clit and rubbed it in a lazy circular motion, watching her face for direction and grinning at the way she panted. "You can go faster," she said and stroked to his head.
Lincoln gradually increased his speed, focusing on her soft sighs and the way her hips rolled back and forth rather than on the wet friction as she worked dick - if he focused on that, he'd blow his load all over her hand and probably disappoint her. He didn't want to disappoint Linka; he wanted her first time to be perfect.
"That feels so good, Lincoln," she moaned, her forehead coming to rest against his. He went faster, the pad of his finger swirling against her like a cyclone. Her mouth dropped open and she grinded slowly against him, her nostrils flaring as she fought for air. The pace of her hand slacked until she was simply holding him, clinging desperately to it like a woman to a root on a steep hillside. Lincoln didn't mind because if she kept up, he'd have nutted anyway. Her hot breath broke across his lips and filled his nose, her narrow, slitted eyes hazy with passion. "Yes," she panted, "like that, like that, like that…"
She was wetter now, hotter, her arms snaking around his neck and holding on for dear life as her hips glided back and forth across his hand. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and went faster. "Oh, oh, oh, ohhh…" the last word turned into an inarticulate half gasp/half moan as her little body started to shake with her climax. She bowed her head and Lincoln buried his nose in her fragrant hair; she panted, sputtered, and quivered like a pressure cooker getting ready to blow. "Ooooh, my God," she wavered, and her thrusts began to slow; his hand was drenched and his dick ached in sympathy, his heart thumping the same apocalyptic tempo as hers. She held him tight, grunts, hums, and pants rising from her trembling lips. When she pulled herself back, wild strands of white hair veiled her blushing face, her dark eyes glinting like starry skies. She tried to speak, but her entire body pinched and her words cut off in a giggle when an aftershock raced through her. Lincoln had ever seen a girl more beautiful, and was certain that he never would again.
"That was wow," she said, her voice lifting on the last word.
Lincoln took his hand from between her legs and circled his arms around her hips. "You're wow," he said. It sounded lame to his own ears, but it made Linka's face light up, and that was all that mattered.
"You're pretty wow yourself," she grinned, "you do that a lot better than I do. Is this your first time?"
"Yeah," he admitted, "I've never done that before."
"You could have fooled me, you're really good."
Lincoln smiled broadly. Being complimented by Linka felt really nice. "You're pretty good too," he said.
"I kind of slacked off," she said, "I'm sorry. You just made me feel so good." She rocked back on her knees and flicked her eyes to his dick: It rested against the waistband of his briefs and pointed at her crotch like a possessive finger. Her eyes twinkled with an elfin light and she brushed her fingers across the tip, making it shiver. "It moves," she giggled.
"I can make it move on its own," Lincoln said.
"Really?" she asked incredulously and moved her hair out of her face. "Do it."
Lincoln clenched, and his dick jerked. Linka laughed. "Wow, that's so strange," she said, then, "should we...take the rest of our clothes off?"
She asked the question easily, comfortably, and Lincoln nodded. "Yeah. Sure."
"Okay," she grinned. She slipped her hands under her skirt and wiggled her hips as she pulled her panties down, one eye squinting. "They're kind of stuck."
Lincoln sat back on his butt, yanked his jeans to his knees, then arched his back and brushed his underwear down after, his eyes never leaving Linka as she slipped her underwear over her ankles and tossed them aside - they were white, and he imagined they were warm with her heat and dank with her scent. She reached behind her back, unzipped the skirt, and hooked her thumbs into it, pushing it slowly down her legs. Lincoln watched with bated breath, and Linka glanced up at him, a smile touching her lips. "I didn't watch you get undressed, mister," she teased.
"Sorry," Lincoln said and covered his eyes...then watched through his fingers, his gaze sweeping from her pert breasts down the plain of her stomach to the Y-shaped juncture of her thighs.
"You're peeking," she said in a singsong voice.
"Can you blame me?" he asked. His eyes darted from hers to her chest then to her center; all he could see of her core was the very top of her slit, the surrounding skin swollen and a lovely shade of pink.
She looked at her erection and grinned devilishly. "I guess I can't." She pulled one leg out of the skirt, then then other; she was entirely naked now, and as she crawled over, her hair hanging in her face and her eyes shining with sin, Lincoln gulped; this was really going to happen...he was going to have sex with the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
Inside and out.
When she reached his hip, she curled up next to him and wrapped her fingers around his length, moving it exploratorily from side to side and examining it with girlish curiosity. "Do you watch porn?" she asked.
Lincoln blinked. "Well...sometimes."
"I do," she said and grinned, "I've seen penises before, but they're even more beautiful in person."
That threw him for a loop. "Uh..thanks?"
She giggled and brushed her fingers lightly up, then firmly down; a shivery breath burst from Lincoln's throat and he squirmed against the bed. He reached out and slipped his fingers into her hair, and she glanced up at him. "It's really warm and soft. I mean the skin." She threw up her free hand and laughed nervously. "Not that I'm calling you soft. You're really hard. And yummy."
He stroked his fingers through her hair and she looked up at him, their eyes meeting; Lincoln felt the same stirring from earlier, like a warm spring breeze through supple green leaves. The tiny smile on her lips told him that she probably felt it too. "Well, you made me this hard."
"I guess," she laughed and stroked up, then down, her thumb brushing the ridge underneath his head, "I didn't think I had it in me."
That was...what, the second, third time she'd said something like that? "Why not?" he asked and grazed his nails affectionately over her scalp.
She shrugged and looked at his dick, her hand moving faster.
"Linka?"
"I just...I don't think I'm very pretty and, you know...no boy's ever really been interested in me." She pressed a wet kiss to his thigh and squeezed his shaft; a bolt of pleasure shot into the center of his stomach and his eyelids fluttered. She shifted onto her elbow and kissed higher, her lips lingering and her nose inhaling the smell of his skin.
"I think you're beautiful," he said. "Everyone's probably too afraid to ask you out because you're so hot."
She laughed and kissed the inside of his thigh, so close to his dick now that he could feel errant strands of her hair tickling him. "I doubt that," she said, "but I don't mind." She rested the side of her head on his leg and brought his dick to her lips, her big, inquiring eyes caressing the tip. "Because I really like you."
His heart burst against his chest and his stomach clinched, but in a good way. "I like you too," he said.
"Good," she said, her breath hot against his dick, "that makes me crazy happy." She grinned then swiped her tongue across his head; his hips jerked and a moaning nngh trembed from his throat. Linka laughed and looked at it cross eyed. "Did that feel good?" she asked it. It pulsed in her hand by way of response. "It tasted good." She did it again, curling her tongue around it and scraping it with her upper lip. Toe curling sensation filled Lincoln's body; he dug his heels into the mattress and arched his back, his face crinkling. Linka scooted closer, took him fully into her mouth, and moved her head down slowly, her hand squeezing his base and her hot spit coating him like molasses. When he poked the back of her throat, she jerked back, spat him out, and coughed. "Sorry," she said. "Girls never do that in porn."
He ran his fingers cherishingly through her hair and grinned. "That's fine." He rolled onto his side, laid his hand on Linka's shoulder, and pushed her gently back against the bed. "I wanna touch you some more anyway."
She grinded and wiggled into a comfortable position. "Okay. You won't hear any objections from me."
"Good," he said and pressed his palms to her breasts; they bounced and quivered under his touch, and she took a deep breath. He moved slowly down to her stomach, running his fingers over her soft flesh and exploring her body with boyish curiosity, his eyes going to the flower between her thighs, pink and moist as if with morning dew. He could smell her excitement, and it made him shake with primal need. He brushed his hands over her hips and down the outsides of her legs, his fingers trailing her curves and dips. She was so soft, so warm, her face blushing hard and her eyes narrowed, lips puckered in bliss.
He laid one hand on the outside of her left leg and the other on the inside, his knuckles grazing her lips, then moved down its length, his thumbs scraping her knees, her calf, over the top of her sock and down to her foot. She took deep, panting breaths and bit her bottom lip. "That feels so good," she said, and the tremble in her voice did it.
He couldn't wait any longer. He needed to be inside of her, to look into her eyes and be one with her as his climax hit. Letting go, he crawled up between her knees; she watched him approach with sweet anticipation and slowly spread her legs, accepting him and granting him access to her deepest self. He planted his arms on either side of her head and stared down into her eyes as he brought his body to hers, her fevered lips slipping over his head and her damp heat enveloping him. She stared back, her heart racing, her stomach gurgling, her face open in an expression of profound significance. She held her hands to his chest and wiggled her hips, her center sliding wetly across across him.
Reaching down, she guided him to her opening, their eyes never wavering, then let go and put her hands on his hips. "Please don't be rough," she said, her voice anxious and pleading. Lincoln's heart twinged at her apprehension, and, putting all of his weight on one arm, he took the side of her face in his hand and brushed his thumb across the ridge of her cheekbone. "I won't, Linka," he said, and meant it, "I promise."
She smiled and nodded, her eyes filled with trust and love. "Okay."
Holding onto the bed with both hands, his eyes locked with Linka's and her hand caressing his face, he slid his hips forward, his tip prodding her tight entrance, then squeezing in. She bit her bottom lip and winced as if in pain. "Do you want me to stop?"
She shook her head. "No," she whispered.
He stared at her for a second, trying to decide if he should stop on his own, but her body beckoned, and he sank himself another inch; she was a pool of boiling liquid, and her muscles spasmed around him as if in panic at his intrusion; he sucked a pained breath through his teeth and bowed his head. Linka wrapped her legs around his hips and braced her socked heels against his butt as if to keep him from chickening out and withdrawing. Lincoln closed his eyes and thrusted slowly, giving her body time to adjust to him. Every instinct told him to slam deep into her, to fulfill the primal urges that been haunting him for months, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to ease in - he didn't want to her Linka, couldn't hurt Linka.
The way her body molded around him, her walls licking him like tongues of flames, made it really hard, though.
Deep breath. Deep breath. Push. He gained another inch, and Linka moaned, her body thrashing beneath him. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"It stings," she said through her teeth, "but don't stop."
He clutched the sheet in both hands and sank deeper, his breathing heavy, his heart crashing, his dick aching both for release and because her walls gripped him so tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared up into his eyes - he saw in hers his own need, and she swallowed thickly as she made up her mind. "Do it," she said, "all the way."
"Are you sure?" he panted.
"Yes," she said and dug her heels into his butt, "no pain - "
"No gain," Lincoln grinned. "Your Lynn says that too?"
She rolled her eyes. "All the time."
He opened his mouth, but closed it again when sudden emotion overwhelmed him. "I don't wanna hurt you," he whispered.
"A girl's first time always hurts a little," she said, "then it's supposed to feel super good." She smiled and stroked his face with the back of her hand. "I want you to make me feel good...and I want to make you feel good." She pressed her forehead to his and rubbed the tips of their noses together like a playful kitten, and Lincoln kissed her lips.
"Okay," he said, "tell me to stop if it's too much."
"I will," she said, and her heels rolled against his butt.
"Are you crossing your toes?" he asked.
Grinning, she shook her head. "Nope. Not me."
Lincoln laughed and kissed her again. "Alright. I'll trust you on this."
"Good," she said, "because I trust you."
For a moment, he gazed into her eyes, a stupid grin plastered to his face and his heart swelling, then overfilling. He'd felt for girls before - Cristina, Ronnie Anne - but nothing as strong as this, and it scared him at the same time it excited him. He kissed the tip of her nose and drew back a little. "I'm gonna do it."
She nodded.
Rocking his hips gently, counting to three, he surged forward and filled her, their hips coming flush. She gasped loudly and dug her fingers into his arms, and he grimaced at the way her walls constricted around him, choking, strangling. Earlier he thought of her as a bubbling pool of fire, but she was so so much hotter now, so much wetter, her juices roiling like water on a stove and blistering his skin. He took a deep, uneven breath, pulled back, and did it again. "Oh, God," she moaned, her head tossing back and her smooth throat baring. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, but found himself kissing her neck instead, his lips greedily sucking the salt from her skin. She purred and ran her fingers through his hair. "Keep going," she whispered. "It hurts but it really really good too."
Peppering tender kisses up the curve of her throat and along her jawline, her taste filling his mouth, he rested his forearms on either side of her head and threaded his fingers through her hair, then pulled back and glided forward, the wet friction of his body against hers making him so dizzy he could barely keep his balance. Linka closed her eyes and pursed her lips, a look of bliss settling over her features. Lincoln stared fixedly at her as he went faster, his thumbs rubbing her face and his heart slamming. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he bent forward and kissed her, their tongues grappling for dominance.
He felt his clmax approaching swiftly and pulled away, his body freezing. "What?" she asked in breathless worry.
"I'm gonna cum," he said and bowed his head, his mind racing to come up with something, anything to stave off his orgasm.
Linka furrowed her brows. "Isn't that the point?"
"I don't want this to end."
"Me either," she said and touched his face, "but I really want you to cum in me."
Lincoln blinked and his dick twitched against her walls. "A-Are you sure?" he asked. He wanted her to enjoy it, and so far they'd hadn't had much actual sex.
Reading his mind, she nodded. "I'm very close." She kissed the tip of his nose and giggled when he winced. "Let yourself go."
"Alright," he said.
"Just one thing," she said.
Lincoln started to ask what, but then he realized she probably wanted the same thing that he did. "Look in your eyes?"
She nodded and trailed her index finger along his jaw. "Look in my eyes."
"I was going to," he grinned.
"Good," she said.
"Good," he repeated, and kissed her.
Pushing himself slightly up and massaging gentle circles in her scalp, he pulled back to almost the head and thrusted, the head striking the opening of her womb. Her eyes crossed and a burst of air left her lips. He did it again, moving with tender slowness, sinking as deep into her as he could go. She cupped the back of his neck in her hand and locked their eyes, her cheeks burning. He pulled back and slammed forward, gaining speed as her body loosened and no longer fought but moved in time with his. He stared into her upturned face and his orgasm welled deep inside like a geyser gathering pressure. In that moment, they were one flesh, one heart, and one mind, their mutual end coming fast and hard and their bodies working in perfect harmony, his expanding, hers contracting.
Looking deep into each other's eyes, both beginning to come undone, they spoke at the same time, their voices low, breathy whispers, poignant devotionals in the church of hearts. "I love you."
As soon as the words left their mouths, the end came: Lincoln kept his promise and gazed into Linka's eyes as his rod swelled in her and released in a heady, heart-stopping rush, a grunt falling from his lips. Linka's eyes widened and she cried out as his hot, sticky seed flooded her passage and filled her waiting well. The world went gray at the edges as dazzling white passion exploded in the center of her skull and spread through her entire being like divine fire. Her toes curled against her socks and her nails bit roughly into Lincoln's arms as every cell, every nerve ending, every inch of her body burned in righteous heat. She flopped her head back and threw her hips against his, sheathing him completely as he pumped another load into her; it splashed through her like lava, puddling in her core and making her tremble. Lincoln bowed his head and trusted again, his shaky arms giving out and spilling him on top of her, his face burying in the crook of her neck.
She wrapped her arms around him and clung tight as aftershocks raced through their bodies, beginning in one and ending in the other; her hips rhymically rose and fell between him and the bed - she wanted every last drop of him inside of her, wanted to feel his comforting heat in her stomach long after they were inevitably forced to part. When he had nothing left to give, she fell still and simply held him, the afterglow of her orgasm feeling over her like a warm blanket. She undug her heels from his butt and wound her legs around his, her toes trailing up and down and her knees quivering. Lincoln shook against her, his breath hot on her skin, then his lips as he kissed her neck slowly, lovingly.
"Wow," he said, his voice muffled, then nuzzled against her.
"Me too," she said and hugged him dearly, his shape and warmth feeling so good and right in her arms. "That was so much better than I dreamed."
Lincoln pushed himself up and tried to speak, but shuddered instead. "Umhm," she said, "I feel the same way." His elbow started to give out, so he gave up and laid on his side. Linka rolled over to face him, and he draped one arm over her hip, pulling her against him.
"Like you're about to pass out?" he asked.
"Exactly," she said, snuggled up, and kissed his nose.
He winced. "Did it...stop hurting?" he asked.
"Umhm," she nodded, "then it started feeling crazy good." She brushed her toes up his calf and giggled when he shivered. "How did it feel for you?"
"Like my soul come out," he said, then, "and like I fell in love."
She giggled and girlishly and looked down. her already rosey cheeks darkening. "I felt that too," she said. Taking his hand, she weaved her fingers through his and squeezed. She turned her eyes up to him, liquid dark and shimmering with happy light, and Lincoln felt it again, that curious gnawing in his chest and deep in the pit of his gut.
Human beings, like all animals, are instinctual creatures, the only difference being that we have names for the things we feel - lust, envy, anger, hatred. Even so, you do not need a neat and nifty label to know what stirs in your chest, just as Lincoln did not need one now, as he lifted Linka's hand to his mouth and kissed each one of her knuckles. He simply knew, and let his body lead his brain. "I love you," he said.
Linka smiled, touched the side of his face, and chastely kissed his lips. "I love you too, Lincoln."
The second time was slower than the first, characterized by less urgency. Linka straddled him and rocked her body against his, her hands splayed on his shoulders and her head bent, strands of white hair falling across her face and her curved back arching forward with every thrust. Lincoln gripped her hips and admired her beauty, from her flashing eyes to her cocky smile to the hypnotic sway of her breasts. Perfect...she was perfect in every way, and each forward drive knocked him deeper and deeper into love with her. She laid flat against him and they kissed deeply as their bodies moved into one another, and when he felt himself beginning to cum, he hugged her to his chest and buried his nose in her hair; the first shot made her seize, and the second shake. She moaned his name and her body closed tight around him, her walls coaxing his seed out and drawing it into her womb.
For a long time, they laid in comfortable silence, Linka's head and hand resting on Lincoln's chest and Lincoln's arm wrapped around her shoulders, both drowsing and more at peace than they had ever been before. When a knock came at the door, the tranquility shattered like a pane of glass, and both opened their eyes.
"Y-Yeah?" Lincoln called, hoping it was just Lisa but fearing it wasn't.
The handle turned and Lisa stuck her head in, her nose crinkling slightly. Lincoln's eyes went there first...then to the gold star stuck to her forehead, his brow creasing in confusion. "I take it from the pungent odor that you've gotten to know each other."
Lincoln and Linka both blushed embarrassedly, and Lincoln nodded. "Uh...yeah, we, uh, w-we did."
"Good," Lisa said, "because our parents and siblings will be home in twenty minutes." Without another word, she withdrew and closed the door behind her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke - they both knew this moment would come, but neither had allowed themselves to think about it. "I-I guess that means I have to go," Linka said, a stricken inflection in her voice. She made no move to get up, though.
"We can wait a few more minutes," Lincoln said and unconsciously held her closer.
She sighed sadly and brushed her palm up and down his chest, her nails leaving white tracks in their wake. "I don't wanna go," she said sullenly.
"I don't want you to either," Lincoln said, and was only half-surprised to find tears welling in his eyes,
A few minutes passed too quickly, and she was sitting on the edge of the bed, gathering her skirt and blouse from the floor with a downcast expression that made Lincoln's heart ache. He pulled his jeans on and stared down at his bare feet, unable to bear the look in her eyes.
Standing, she pulled her skirt on, then shrugged into her blouse, doing each button with the somber air of a woman digging her own grave. When she was done, Lincoln came up behind her, draped his arms over her shoulders, and pulled her against him; her hands went to his forearm and clung desperately. "This is still really strange," she said.
"I know," he said.
She blew a huff of air. "Especially...this," she said in a tone that clearly indicated them. "I've known you, like, an hour, but I…"
"I know," he said, hugging her close and nuzzling her neck. She fit so perfectly in his arms, almost like she was made for him and him alone, and he for her. It had been less than an hour, maybe a little more, since he walked into his bedroom and saw a mirror image of himself, and in that time, he'd come to love her: The sound of her laughter, the way she spoke, her eyes and her smile. He couldn't say he didn't feel whole before her, but right now, staring the prospect of parting from her in the face, he knew for certain that he wouldn't feel whole after. "It's crazy but I feel like…"
"You're my soulmate," she blurted.
Lincoln's cheeks flushed. He wouldn't have put it so sappily, but yeah, he felt like she was his soulmate too. "Soulmate," he said, prickling at how schmaltzy it sounded, but rolling the meaning through his head and finding it apt.
She leaned back into him and they swayed gently from side to side, her lips touching his arm and his nose drawing in her scent, storing it in his brain like a squirrel storing nuts for the long, cold winter ahead. "We'll see each other," he vowed. "It's not that hard."
"No," she agreed. "It took us, like, two minutes to get here." She kissed his arm. "And you better believe I'm coming back. I'm kind of attached now."
Lincoln laughed. "So am I. So much so that I might turn up at your doorstep one day with a suitcase."
She giggled. "I don't know how well that'll work out. My brothers can be kind of protective." She frowned to herself. "Plus there's the whole explaining that you're from another dimension thing. I don't know how my parents feel about me dating outside my universe."
"I'm from another dimension?" he asked. "No, you're from another dimension."
"Nope," she said, "I'm from the normal world. This is Bizarroworld. Where my brothers are girls." Her brow furrowed. "I'm not gonna lie, I'd love to meet the rest of your sisters one day just to see how it all...translates. I can't imagine Luke or Loki as girls."
"Yeah, and I can't imagine Lola as a boy."
"Which one is she?" Linka asked.
"Six. Beauty pageants. Pink and glittery."
Linka snorted. "That sounds like Lexx. Leif is absolutely disgusting, but I love him to pieces."
"Same with Lana," Lincoln said, "God, she's so gross."
Turning in his arms, Linka lifted a brow. "Does she eat frog guts too?"
"Frog guts?"
Linka nodded. "Umhm. He had a frog one time and he says it died on its own but we don't know - either way he ate some of its innards." She stuck out her tongue, then laughed when Lincoln legitimately gagged.
"No, as far as I know, she's never done that. I'm pretty sure she eats dog poop, though."
"Oh, God, one time I caught him with a bowl full of kitty litter. "What are you doing, Leif?" "Just having a snack." Like seriously? What's wrong with you?" They both laughed and she nestled closer. "My family's nuts. It sounds like yours is too."
"It's like a psych ward sometimes. April Fools Day -"
"- used to be a nightmare," Linka moaned. "But then...things happened and Lane stopped."
Lincoln lifted a brow. They actually got him to quit? Wow. He and his sisters (and parents) had been trying to get Luan to stop for years, but each time around she only got worse. "What happened?"
Sighing sadly, Linka said, "Loki, Luke, Lexx, and Lynn beat him up. Pretty bad."
Wait wat? "T-They did?"
"Umhm. They put bars of soap in socks and jumped him in bed. Dad was pissed. They were grounded for, like six months."
"They sound rough," Lincoln said, and suddenly found himself worried.
Linka hummed. "Yeah, they can be kind of rough with each other. But -"
The door opened and Lisa stuck her head in, her brow heavy with impatience. "Today, please."
"We'll be right there," Lincoln said.
Nodding, she drew back but left the door ajar.
Linka sighed. "I guess I better go." She sounded like going was the last thing on the face of the earth she wanted to do, which it must be, because it was certainly the last thing on earth he wanted her to do. Grudgingly, he released her, and she hung her head in dejection. Every fiber of his being yearned to sweep her back into his arms and never let go, instead he took her hand and slipped his fingers through hers.
Before they left the room, his eyes fell on something at the foot of the dresser: Their underwear. All of it - his briefs,, her panties, and her bra - wound up in a semi neat pile. "You're forgetting something," he said and nodded to them.
She followed his gaze. "Oh," she said, "almost." She stooped down...and picked up his underwear. "I'll keep yours and you can keep mine," she said with a girlish grin. "You know...to, like, remember me by."
"Uh...okay," he said and chuckled. "If you want."
"I do," she said, then shoved them into her blouse. "I better just put these away, though. It might look kind of weird."
"You are kind of weird," he teased.
"Shhh," she grinned, "don't tell anyone."
Lincoln zipped his lips. "Thank you," she said and smiled prettily.
Holding hands, they went out into the hall and into Lisa's room, their steps slow, both wanting to draw out the seconds before they would have to part. Lisa sat at her desk with her arms crossed and Levi leaned against the flanking half, his arms also crossed. Lincoln was so taken aback by the whole situation - Levi and Linka, alternate universes, her being there for them to, uh, bond - that he never really looked at the boy until now. Whereas he (Lincoln) and Linka were not identical, Lisa and Levi were, save for his hair, which was shorter. That, Lincoln figured, had to do with their age. As each grew into their gender, differences would present themselves, but for now they were the spitting image of one another.
"Ready?" Levi asked.
Linka sighed deeply. "Yeah. I guess." She turned to Lincoln and held fast to his hand, their gazes locking and matching smiles crossing their lips as both felt the by-now familiar stirring in their souls. Instead of speaking, they hugged, Linka's arms slipping around his neck and Lincoln's circling around her waist. She rubbed her nose against his and giggled when he did it back. "That tickles," she said.
"Taste your own medicine," he said archly.
"My own medicine, huh?" she asked and pressed her forehead to his.
"Your own medicine," he confirmed.
They looked into one another's eyes, then tilted their heads and kissed softly, their tongues gently caressing its mate with tender reverence. Lisa glanced at the clock on her computer and Levi looked uncomfortably away.
The kiss broke, and Linka smiled wanly, a hint of sadness in her eyes that stuck Lincoln like a knife, and it was then that he realized he would do anything for this girl. He loved her with an intensity that surprised him, a depth that defied logic. Had it really only been an hour? It felt like longer, like he'd known her forever, like he'd treasured her forever.
She smiled weakly, and rested the side of her head against his chest, her hands splaying on his back and her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to hang on for just a moment longer. Lincoln brushed his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead.
"We really should be going," Levi said briskly.
Linka sighed and pulled away, her hand going to the side of Lincoln's face. "I'll see you soon," she said.
"Not if I see you first," he smiled and pecked her lips.
She longingly caressed his cheek, then turned away with a sigh and followed her brother to the teleporter. He waved a card in front of a black keypad, and the sliding door opened with a whoosh. Linka stepped in, then Levi, both turning to face out as the door closed again. She held up a hand, and Lincoln returned the wave, his chest already aching with loss and hot tears welling in his eyes.
The air around the teleporter shimmered like heat rising from summer asphalt...then with a zap and a whiff of ozone, it was gone, and with it Lincoln's heart. He stood there for a long time, his shoulders slumped and his head hung, feeling gutted and cold.
"You developed feelings for her," Lisa said from beside him. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yeah," he admitted, "I did." He wiped his eyes with his middle finger. "I-I fell in love with her." It sounded nonsensical to his own ears, falling in love with someone when you really don't even know them, but he knew how he felt, and he was in love with Linka full stop, crazy or not.
Lisa nodded slightly as though she had expected this. "We figured it was a possibility, though it occured to neither of us until it was too late." She stared at the spot where the teleporter stood just moments ago, the look in her eyes not all that different from the one in her brother's. "You won't see her as often as you'd like, and you'll think about her quite often, sometimes to the point of it affecting your work. You'll remember something she did or said and find yourself grinning like a fool, and sometimes, not having her with you will physically hurt. You'll feel like a flower cut off from sunlight. Wilting." Lincoln did not fail to notice that she rolled her eyes up to the star on her forehead when she added, "But that makes seeing her all the more special."
Lincoln carefully considered her words, and their implications. "Have you told him?" he asked.
"No," Lisa said, "we have, I believe, an mutual understanding. Unspoken."
He thought of Linka - the light in her eyes when she smiled and the way she felt in his arms. "You should," he said.
Lisa sighed. "To what end? It would be one thing if he lived on the other side of the street or on the other side of town, but he doesn't. He lives on the other side of forever; he has his circumstances and I have mine. One day, things may be different, but for now they are what they are." She blinked rapidly and turned away. "Now if you'll excuse me," she said, her voice thicker than normal, "I must be getting back to my work."
Across an infinite gulf of space and time, in the chamber of a machine, Levi glanced at his older sister, the corners of his mouth turning down at her dejected posture: Head bowed, shoulders slumped. Sighing, he stared straight ahead as the glass cleared, revealing his bedroom in his timeline, so mind-bogglingly far from Lisa that he seldom allowed himself to think about it. "You have feeling for him," he said.
"Yes," Linka said, her voice flat and empty. "I do. Strong ones."
Levi nodded. "It didn't occur to either Lisa or I that this may happen until it was too late. I apologize."
She looked at him strangely. "Why?"
"Because," he said, "feeling for someone from afar is a lonely and painful thing. You don't see them as often as you want, you think of them constantly, and sometimes you feel as though you are incomplete without them. It's not something I wanted for you."
Linka mulled his words over for a quiet moment, taking stock of her emotions...especially the gaping hole in the center of her chest. "I do feel incomplete," she said, "but I'm really happy I met him."
"I understand," he said. "If you wish to see him, arrangements can be made, but it won't happen with the frequency you might want...or need."
Yeah. She kind of figured that. "Have you told...Lisa how you feel?"
She was surprised when he answered instantly and forthrightly. "No, I haven't. I believe she knows, and I suspect that she feels similarly. One day, I-I hope for things to be different, but for now, she lives across a yawning chasm of time and space, with her own affairs while I have mine. Pursuing it further than we already have seems illogical."
"Yeah," Linka said at length, "but when she's in your arms, all that ceases to matter."
Levi opened his mouth to counter, but stopped, because deep down, he could see her point, and in a way, he agreed. "Well, that's a concern for another day," he said and punched a series of numbers into the keypad; the door slid open, and the familiar smells, and sounds, of home washed over them. "Right now, I need to make sure no one's broken their fool necks in my absence." He stepped out of the chamber, and after a brief hesitation, Linka followed.
Even surrounded that day by ten raucous brothers and two long-suffering parents, she had never felt more alone in her life.
And hoped that she never would again.