Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?


Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Point We've Come To

"Ugh.. uh, ugh, uh, ah, ah—"

Fang's fingers were humping Max on her bed. She was making all those noises and breathlessly breathing beside.

She was convulsing and writhing beneath him. The bed was moving up and down, bumping the springs below, as he rammed his fingers into her in and out.

He didn't know why he was doing this like this, but she was enjoying it.

So he tried to tell himself that he wasn't imagining her convulsing this way because of his own dick in there instead of his fingers.

He tried to convince himself that he wasn't trying to imagine her writhing beneath him in the same way, through his own dick.

He tried to tell him that he wasn't simulating his fingers the same way his dick would ram into her.

Then why

"UH.. UGH, UGH, uh.. a-AAHH!"

why was he being so rough and enjoying it? "YES! Oh.. oh!" He was enjoying her reactions.

Why was he being so rough then? Ramming into her.

Afterall, it was only his fingers.

Because the fact of the matter was, that they were lying on the same bed while she was having an orgasm. She was trying so hard to reach an orgasm beside him, completely butt-naked in her birthday suit, while he tried desperately to keep control of the situation as he moved his finger up and down her clit and tried to touch her g-spot often as he roughly slammed his four fingers inside and out.

Max liked it rough. Thats what he'd learned.

She lifted her knees up and out so that she was now fetal position, meeting his fingers there at every push, practically begging for it. She was so oblivious to the world around her, and groaning crazily. She was so into it. It was a well-needed break, from her life. And Fang was helping her.

Her dirty-blonde hair was messy and frazzled, obscuring her face nearly completely, and her eyes were squeezed tight in frustration and dear, dear effort as she wriggled around and jumped around on the bed eratically, the center point of all of everything being Fang's fingers touching her vagina.

"Fang.. fang.." she moaned out shallowly, moving her head from side to side, her lower body still in fetal position. Her knees were bent and facing her head, her heels touching tightly, the backs of her thighs . ".. go.. deeper.." she instructed him, her eyes closed.

Fang complied.

"Ah—ah—fa-AAAH-ng..." was what he was rewarded with. He swore his swollen erection expanded two inches thicker just at that response.

Why did the girl he like have to be so.. so.. so.. sexy? So hot? So beautiful and gorgeous and erotically stimulating, altogether combined?

He watched her jugs move up and down as he moved her roughly.

A bead of sweat rolled down his face as he took another deep shallow breath, focusing on bringing her to orgasm. He had to put those thoughts out of his head, ignore his tight pants and stiff erection. He was trying so hard, to bring her to orgasm, but half of him was more preoccupied with hearing the noises and ramming his fingers into her, pretending it was his dick that was making those noises

It was his own fault, afterall. He had tacitly made it an unspoken condition that he would only do this to her under the terms that she was completely undressed while he was doing it.

He had no idea why, though, at that moment. Watching her undressed, unclothed body, completely.. something he'd never seen in ages—since they were 6 or 7—was so.. visually, intensely.. utterly distracting.

Did she even know how hot she was?

The surprising thing was that she had generally no qualms about it—about taking off her clothes. He had no thoughts but to assume that she had no idea that he was actually attracted to her body.

So.. so.. so attracted..

He took another deep shallow breath. Sweat was accumulating on his forehead as he focused on bringing her to orgasm.

The rough jamming of fingering.. he'd never tried that before until today.. tonight..

Maybe it was because tonight the moon was nearly 6/7s full, and placed directly in front of the window in front of Max's headboard.

Light in the normally dark room of the normally dark nights he got together with her to make pleasure, was now shining directly down onto the length of her bed.. which means he, fully clothed, got to see her unclothed body convulse on top his fingers.

He didn't think he'd ever been so turned on in his entire life.

Maybe that was why he was ramming so hard into her.. he was obsessed with imagining her convulsing like his penis were there.. just as that moment.

Her breasts looked so beautiful.. and luscious.

But he couldn't go down and touch one or lick one. That was also against one of the unspoken rules. Her breasts were off-limits. Essentially, she was off limits. He couldn't do anything like brush the hairs ontop of her mound, tickle them, play with them.

He couldn't play with her. That was a rule. Playing and giving pleasure, were two different things.

He could only give her pleasure.. but what he was really wanting to do.. was to simply play with her.

It was masochistic, self-depreciating—torturing himself in such a way. Letting her let him do this to her, but not what he wanted to do.. It was downright masochistic.

Until that moment, he hadn't really registered the implications of his rule of having her her fully undressed on the bed in front of him.

All that had been going through his mind when he had decided to implement that, was the thought that maybe one of her erect nipples might accidentally brush against his shirt, just close enough for him to feel it through the shirt and feel the momentary thrill. He hadn't ever.. forseen.. actually being able to see her.. although she wasn't doing it adamantly—it was just the light of the moonlight that night, where all of her was exposed thoroughly, as the moonlight shone right down onto the bed.

Either way, she had no shame in retrospect.

She obviously didn't understand that he was attracted to her body, that her body made him want to do things on himself and to her. Things were as natural for her as the birds and the bees. What was there to hide about her body, she'd probably wonder.

So much, Fang thought. Theres a lot to keep secret from me, he thought, staring down at her body beneath him.

She arched her back several times like a painful stack, and he knew she came beneath him.

"Ah, ah, ah.." she was saying as she was convulsing. Fang slowly lessened the tight pit deep inside of her and slowly and gently withdrew his fingers.. that had been the deepest he'd ever gone—ever. That was the hardest he'd ever done her—ever.

Damn, he really didn't need to see her body.. it made him feel.. such weird things.

He slowly slipped his fingers out of her tavern and taking a cooling sigh, a deep breath of relief, he leaned back against the headboard, sitting up like he was before, but not bending over her. She was lain down and out on the bed properly, her naked body open and view for the world to see, lighted erotically by the clear, distinct light of the moonlight.

Fang looked away from her and slowly wondered what he'd done.

Why'd he gone so hard on her?

That wasn't fingering, that was.. was..

—was using his hand as a dick.

He hadn't been gently stimulating her.. he'd been ramming his hand in her.

Like.. like he was thrusting into her. God, he really was simulating his dick inside her. He furrowed his eyebrows in exasperation and asked, for the 4th time, what was wrong with him?

But.. but she had liked it, he reminded himself.

If she didn't like it, she wouldve thrown a karate chop to his neck and he would've been down and out of her room in a second—like that time, the second time he'd ever come into her room to pleasure her, right after that night he'd first done it, when he'd tried to try some cunnilingus.

She'd sent him through the door when she felt his wet tongue lick her pouty labia lips.

The thought of her labial lips, moist, pink, thick and full, damn near pouting for caressing.. once again brought Fang to an erection. He looked away, hearing Max's loud breathing slowly soften in the distance as he sat beside her laying head.

Max.. was surely a beautiful creature. He'd never realized it before. He'd always just regarded her as that girl. A girl. Flock. Another wing person, of another gender. When had he started to become.. so attracted to her?

He'd never seen her so beautiful before. Its like oneday she'd sprouted idiosyncracies and hid herself away for two years and suddenly came out looking gorgeous. Except, that never happened. She'd always been there, right beside him.

And now she was still there, right beside him, her bosom heaving erotically, the nipples erect, but softening, against her tight abdomen and beautifully glowing skin underneath the moonlight.

Since when had they come to this?—to this point.

To giving and receiving analistic pleasure? To be bouncing up and down on the bed, thriving, and wonderment with eachother. To be out of breath and screamingcause she wanted Fang's fingers to touch her there a bitdeeper.

Since when had they come to this point, he wondered, as he looked over at her still breathing softly beside him, her eyes closed peacefully and relaxedly.

Since when had he ever imagined they'd be pleasuring in this way?

Downright obsessed.. with thriving, and writhing, and convulsing beneath his hands.

He loved it. He loved her. She liked it a lot. She enjoyed it.

But since when?

The implications of ramming his hand into her for the first time ever, made him go through a tangent of a million of thoughts, as he wondered why he had done that.

When he had specifically promised himself he'd keep it strictly for her.. strictly feeling and touching and stimulating herself to orgasm.. not simulating himselffor pleasure.

God.