+18 Extra 9

#Holiday After

I half-watch a Christmas special playing on TV.
The night deepens, and the city grows quiet.

I rest my head on Peter's shoulder, snuggling close.
The flow of time seems to slow down just a little.
It's not like I have the power to manipulate time or anything.

And yet, I'm sure of it—right now, in this moment... time is passing more gently.

That's how it feels.

Suddenly, I glance at my own left hand.
My gaze drifts to the ring on my ring finger.

...As I move that hand to rest on Peter's shoulder, he looks a little embarrassed and pulls me into a hug.

...Even though he does far more daring things normally.
He always gets shy about things like this.

Well, I suppose... it's because he truly cares about me.
Thinking that, I don’t really mind.
In fact, I kind of like it.
It’s somehow endearing.

Feeling each other's warmth, I notice a slight chill in the air.
Peter’s apartment lets in a draft.

I pull the towel blanket from the foot of the bed and drape it over our backs.
Wrapping it around Peter and me should help a little.

It’s warm.
My body, and my heart.

I’m wrapped in a deeply happy feeling.

The night grows later.
It’s past midnight.

"...Michelle, I’m thinking of taking a shower..."

"...Again?"

"W-well, we already ate dinner..."

"...Oh, no. I’m not scolding you or anything."

Peter gets up and goes to take a shower.
I wrap myself in the towel blanket, still warm with his body heat.

Taking a slightly deeper breath... I feel a heat rising from deep within.
Is it affection for Peter, love... or desire?

I roll over onto the bed.
The unfunny comedian’s voice drones on from the TV.
...This late at night, it must be a rerun.

It sounds distant, far away.

Staring at the pattern on the ceiling, I think about what’s to come... very soon.

The shower stops.
I sit up on the bed and wait for Peter.

A moment later, Peter steps out of the bathroom.
He’s in his pajamas, drying his hair with a towel.

"All done."

"Okay... I’ll go take a shower too."

I say this, toss the towel blanket onto the bed, and walk over to Peter.
Instead of passing by him to the shower, I sidle up close.

Peter looks at me with a slightly puzzled expression.

"Michelle, what’s wrong? ...Is something weird?"

I bring my lips close to his ear, still faintly warm.
Then... I whisper softly.

"Get the condoms ready."

"Ah... y-yeah."

I hug the flustered Peter, then step into the shower.

Even as the water washes over my heated body, the warmth doesn’t fade.
If anything, thinking about what’s to come makes me even hotter.
I feel heat pooling in my lower abdomen.

"...Ah."

I notice the ring on my finger is wet.
Should I have taken it off?... Nah, it should be fine, right?

Feeling unsure, I take it off and place it on top of the washing machine.

I wash every inch of myself carefully and dry off with a towel.
After wiping away the moisture, I put the ring back on my finger and reach for my clothes—

Instead of putting them on, I wrap myself in just the towel and step out of the shower.

"Ah, Mich—"

Peter, who was about to say something, falls silent when he sees me.
He’s turned his face away slightly, but his gaze is still fixed on me.

...Really, so shy.
But I don’t dislike that mannerism.
In fact, I like it.

I even like that after all this time, he’s still not smooth with women.
It stirs up my sadistic side.

I sit on the bed beside him.
Then, I let the towel drop—

Even through his pants, I can tell Peter is hard.
...I feel happy knowing he’s aroused by my body, and I whisper in his ear.

"...Peter, you too—get undressed."

"Y-yeah."

He takes off his shirt, his pants... and finally his underwear.
His fully erect cock comes into view.

We face each other, completely naked.
Peter’s slender, muscular body and my soft, curvy one.
Our contrasting forms are on full display.

Peter’s eyes are glued to me.
His gaze is heated.

I’m sure mine is the same toward him.

Without a word, we embrace each other fully—facing one another.

Our lips meet.

My tongue tangles with Peter’s.

"Mmph... nn..."

Squelch squelch—our saliva mixes together.
Peter’s arms wrap around my back, holding me tight.
I wrap my hands around his back too.
Pressed close, feeling each other’s heat, our mouths overflowing with spit.

"Haah... nn, guh..."

We continue kissing, occasionally pausing to catch our breath.
His hard penis presses insistently against my navel.

It’s hot, hard, and has a distinct smell.
The scent of his desire to take me.

Our lips remain locked.
He licks every ridge inside my mouth, claiming it.

How many minutes did we spend like that?

After a long, deep kiss... Peter finally pulls away, as if he’s reached his limit.

Stretching—a string of saliva connects our tongues as they part.

Guided by Peter’s hand, I’m laid back on the bed.
As I lie on my back, his right hand gently strokes my lower abdomen.

Then lower.
And lower.

Touching—his fingers brush against my wet entrance.

"......"

I instinctively try to close my legs.
But Peter’s left hand holds my inner thigh firmly.

Unable to close them, I’m left exposed and vulnerable as he brings his face closer—

"Eh, ah..."

Rough, the feeling of his tongue.
A sensation I’ve never felt before against my clit.

Flustered, I place my hand on Peter’s cheek.

"No... don't lick it... it's dirty..."

"...It's not dirty."

I opened my mouth to stop him—

Scrape, scrape.

"Ngh…!"

He licked my clitoris, which was swollen, sensitive, and engorged with blood. Sometimes his teeth would graze it, sending intense shocks that seared my brain.

Even when I tried to lift my hips to escape—

Scrape, scrape.

"Ah…! Nngh…!"

He grabbed my hips and chased me with his tongue, licking relentlessly. My vision flickered from the persistent pleasure, and then—

His tongue finally pulled away.

At the moment I was about to climax, my mind was torn between the thought that I had escaped and the feeling that I had been so close. As these two thoughts fought for control, I spread my legs.

I used the fingers of both hands to part my labia.

With a schlick, my insides were exposed. Peter was already putting on a condom.

"I'm going to put it in now... Michelle..."

"Mhm..."

Shlup—his penis pushed its way inside me. A sensation, not of pain but like being struck by a stake, washed over me.

"…!"

It pushed aside my vaginal walls, hitting that pleasurable spot deep inside. It bumped thud against it, yet was pressed in forcefully anyway.

We had joined bodies many times. But this unfamiliar pleasure still tormented my body.

Even the feeling of my insides being pressed up now was just pure pleasure.

"...I'm going to move now."

"...Mhm, do... as you like."

At first, it was slow. Kneading my insides gently, yet firmly.

I trembled from the deep, intense pleasure. Gentle, slow, as if to keep me from breaking.

But that, too, gradually began to change.

Faster, harder.

"Haah, haah…"

Both my skin and Peter's grew slick with sweat. He moved in and out of me a little roughly, as if devouring me.

Smack—a sound rang out each time our hips met. The sound of wet skin slapping together.

With each weighted thrust, my insides clung to him. I could feel the deepest part of my womb yearning for him. Peter seemed to enjoy that sensation, rippling within me like a separate creature.

"Michelle…!"

As he called my name, I accepted the passionate desire to impregnate me. Even with the condom, his heat reached the deepest parts of me.

It felt so good.

The sound of our wet skin slapping, his breathy gasps. My own fragile voice, his toned, firm body—all of it captivated me.

"Michelle... I'm about to—"

"Nngh, it's okay…"

My very depths were being overwritten by his shape. I could never feel this good, even when I touched myself.

There's nothing happier than having good physical chemistry with the person you love.

With that, Peter's penis thrust powerfully deep inside me—

"Ugh…"

He came inside me, into the condom.

"Nngh... I'm... c-coming…"

At the same time, pleasure shot through my own body. Like a plug had been pulled, my climax ripped through me. My legs stretched taut on their own, and my body twisted.

A feeling of floating, and a numbing sensation. I let out a deep breath as my whole body shuddered.

And then—

Pop.

Peter's penis slipped out of me. It was still hard and big. Peter removed the condom that covered it.

...The cloudy white fluid pooled at the tip. It was the physical form of his desire to put a child inside me.

"Haah... You came so much..."

As I looked at the condom filled with his semen... Peter was already opening the next one. His stamina was incredible.

Normally, he used it to run around the city helping people, carrying heavy things, and jumping around. That stamina.

Right now, all of it was being used to ravish me.

"Michelle... This time, I want to take you from behind."

I nodded at his hesitant request.

"...Okay. Do what you want with me."

I said it deliberately, as if to provoke him—

"…!"

Peter's restraint snapped. Forcefully, yet still gently, he moved me onto all fours. ...I like it when he's gentle, but sometimes I like it when he's rough, too.

"Haah... Haah…"

With ragged breaths, the head of his penis rubbed against my labia. He brushed against me over and over, like kisses, teasing me without entering.

I like the missionary position because I can see Peter's face, but it seems Peter prefers doggy style.

...Well, in the end.

They both feel good, so I like them both.

Schlup—his penis entered me again.

"Nngh…"

Rubbing against all the right places, he pushed deep inside me.

"...Hah, hah..."

My upper arms are grabbed, and I'm shaken. Our wet skin makes a lewd, slick sound.

The sound of our skin meeting in rapid, shallow collisions echoes, and with each one, my body jolts.

Hard. Fast.
His fully erect penis pierces me over and over, so violently I fear my vaginal walls might be scraped raw.

"Ah, ah...!"

Slap, slap.

"Ugh, ghh...!"

Squelch, squelch.

"Ugh, gi... guh...!"

A vulgar moan escapes me—a beast-like, wanton cry I don't want Peter to hear.

I try to suppress it, but—

"Michelle... Michelle..."

It's as if he doesn't care. Peter devours me.

"Ah, guh... thi... this is... in... sane...!"

My voice, barely managing to form words. He seems excited by it and picks up the pace even more.

I'm coming again. A pleasure greater than before—

"Ah, ahh!"

With my climax, I gushed, squirt, releasing my fluids, creating a dark stain on the bedsheets.
I came. I'm coming.

And yet—

"Hah, hahh..."

His thrusting doesn't stop. His penis is still hard, his rhythm unchanged.
He knows I came, yet he doesn't halt the act.

"Peter, wai— ugh, ooh...!?"

His curved penis grinds against my sensitive vagina, which just reached climax. With my arms pinned and no escape, I'm helplessly taken. Each time he hits that sensitive spot, my body jolts... my small breasts shake.

"Hyaah, ugh... gi, guhh..."

My tongue lolls out disgracefully as I continue to spill vulgar moans, scattering saliva, sweat, and love juices. Peter's hips collide with mine so hard, making a loud noise, I fear my rear might become bruised.

A slight pain.
A pleasure far greater than that.
It smothers the pain and fills my brain with bliss.

"I'm coming! I'm coming already...!"

He must hear me. And yet, he doesn't stop joining with me.

Squelch, squelch, the wet sounds echo loudly.
On a holy, snow-filled night, in a room that should be quiet, obscene noises ring out.

"Ah, ah, ah!"

Gush, squirt, like a broken faucet, I spurt my fluids over and over. It feels good, too good, I'm going crazy.

"Ah, ahh, gih... eek!"

If I don't grit my teeth, it feels like everything will spill out. Everything.
My mind is full of pleasure. My thoughts are scrambled, leaving only the sensation of my body.

"Michelle, I'm... I'm coming..."

Just as I felt relief and a hint of regret that this storm of pleasure might finally end—

"Gah!"

Grind—his penis is pushed deep into my core.

It's like a switch.
Something that shatters everything I've been holding back.

"Michelle... Michelle...!"

Grind, pressed insistently.
Tingling, shuddering.
Twitching, jumping.
My heart pounds as if it might break.

"Ah, aahhaahh... ahh, aahh...!"

Along with a cry that sounds like a scream, I gush my fluids.

Inside the washing machine, the sheets swirl around in circles.

Watching them out of the corner of my eye, I return to the bed.

Peter is sitting on the bed... looking a little dejected.

I raise an eyebrow and speak.

"Wait, I told you to stop."

"Ugh."

He hangs his head again.

"I told you I was coming."

"S-sorry..."

He's making a face like a puppy abandoned in the rain.
But I mustn't forget.

Just moments ago, Peter didn't stop having sex with me even though I told him to.
He might look like a puppy, but he's actually a fierce dog.

But, well...

"...It's fine, since it felt good."

When I murmur that, Peter lets out a sigh of relief.

After all, Peter does stop when I genuinely don't want it.
His ability to gauge that is remarkably skillful... how should I put it, he's just good at sex.

Probably because we've done it so much he knows all my 'good' spots.

"...Peter, it's a good thing I'm your girlfriend."

"...Huh? Y-yeah."

He doesn't really get what I'm trying to say, but he seems to agree that it's 'a good thing I'm his girlfriend.'

However, my true intention was—

"Nobody else could handle Peter's... intensity."

"...S-sorry."

I didn't really mean it as a reproach.
I drink from a plastic water bottle I took from the fridge, still naked.

After gulping down about half, I toss it to Peter.
He looks slightly flustered, then drinks the rest.

...We've even done deep kisses, I wish he wouldn't get flustered over an indirect kiss.
Is he really the same person who was just ravaging me uncontrollably?

"...Phew."

I sit down next to Peter.
The winter chill feels good on my heated skin.
...It should be really cold right now.

But right now, it isn't.

I rest my head on Peter's shoulder.
I let my weight lean on him.

I feel a sense of comfort in the room, which has returned to silence.
...I notice Peter's penis is hard again and look away.

"...Peter?"

"Ah, no... I'm not gonna do it again, seriously!"
"...Hmmm."

What an incredible stud.
Is it derived from his superpower abilities, or is it just innate?
Whatever the case, if he's still not satisfied—

...Well, fine.

I let my hand creep up Peter's inner thigh, and his cock jumps hard.

I press my lips to Peter's neck, and then—

"Want to go a little more?"

As I whisper that.

Peter looks somewhat apologetic, but he nods.

...Really, what am I going to do with this boyfriend of mine.
I tear open a packet containing a condom.

Before I knew it, morning had arrived.

The number of used condoms scattered across the bed gave away... just how many times we had done it.

It seemed I had been taken... over and over and over and over again.

I remembered some of it, but there were more condoms than memories.

...I must have passed out from the intensity of it all.

Trembling at my own foolishness and Peter's insatiable lust... I gazed out the window.

The piled-up snow reflected the streaming sunlight.