Fuck 1.2

Ah, she moaned, and suddenly time resumed its consistency in pace. And with that, the man's thoughts on the loss of space were left unassumed and resumed his intimacy with the woman. A cold shiver lingered in his spine from the experience, but the sensation quickly melted away as he felt himself etching ever deeper into her being.

Here. Now.

Within. Without.

Always. Never.

Total. Impartial.

There they were: two figures lying against each other, limbs upon limbs, arms upon arms. They kissed and kissed and kissed: the male figure in darkness and the female figure in light, intimate in the most utmost of aspects, and yet individually separate in others. Moving in unison, one taking and one receiving, the two were not two, but neither were they two of two. They were one. And as one, they strove to release and absorb all that one could encompass: time, space, emotion, thought, and feeling.

Thrust.

Please, don't run away. Don't run away baby.

Thrust.

Please, baby. Let me give it to you.

Thrust.

Don't be afraid of me, I won't hurt you. Let me do you right.

Thrust.

I won't hurt you, I could never hurt you. I promise baby.

Thrust.

I…

Thrust.

I love you.

Suddenly she arched her back and exhaled sharply, and he felt her quiver; she held him even more tightly, as she suddenly shivered when the level of ecstasy mixed with overwhelming pleasure from the change in pace, had begun to intoxicate the one that they became. It was like a drug, only it wasn't of the mind, nor the body—it was for the soul: the one they were was being stimulated by the union of all that they had been.

They'd become existence itself. Wrapped in the very fabric of the universe, they seemingly embodied that which was the wholeness of the paradoxical and paracausal spectrum of reality, folded in and upon itself. Each of them embodying that which upholds nearly every natural and material law.

The man was the darkness, and the female was the light.

A union of two opposing forces, similar in making, but different in conception.

"Shhh, it's okay" cooed the Darker One, "I'm here. It's alright."

Thrust.

Yes, baby. That's it. Ease on it. Ease into who and what we are.

Thrust.

Don't shy away from it. You ain't gotta be afraid of me.

Thrust.

I'm here. And I want you.

A small voice echoed in the void, soft and almost impossible to hear. It was calling a word. A name. It was a name.

Keante….

'Take it. Is this not what you desire?'

'Take it. Do it, and all that is theirs shall belong to you.'

'Take it…'

Suddenly.

Keante.

(Huh?)

A brief jolt of realization hit Keante like a brick. It was sudden and painless, like an extending shot from a lifelong distance, taking its meaningful time to encompass the entirety of its purpose and compress its complexity into one single direct hit.

It was the Darker One's name.

Keante.

My name…

Wait. But how? His inner voice whispered, how does she know my name?

How--

His thoughts were cut off as the female cupped his face with her soft, small hands and pulled him back into her embrace, resting his head on her chest. As he lay there, he heard her heartbeat, it was warm and feathery like a bird. Once again, all of his doubts and insecurities washed away, and he looked up at her. Her eyes were mesmerizing, and in that instance his instincts kicked in, and then he kissed her. They kissed for a long time, each letting go and holding on. And with each time, growing more and more into one being, they began to know each other. Keante knew her, and she knew him, and they knew what they knew: and what they knew was each other. She arched again, and this time it was more livid. Keante was as well; he could feel the shift in paradigm along with the contracting tension underneath.

There was only explanation. He found it. The spot. That sweet spot. Immediately acting on it, Keante moved and did it again, and she in response arched again—yup, he'd definitely found it, and with that the hunger resurfaces. A sudden itch once a simple small nick, that grew into an obsession. A surge of power at the sight of her helplessness made him insatiably addicted. She trembled, still cupping his head and his back, and felt weightless as Keante cupped her thighs and cheeks and continued to dig.

Thrust. His nose flared, and steamed with each exhale, every inhalation of her pheromones sending his body into overdrive.

Thrust. His muscle began to grow, decimal-by-decimal as his strength skyrocketed wrapped in her body,

Thrust. His mouth began to drool, and his tongue began licking her exposed breast, driving her even more rigged as he tickled and fondled, prodded and jiggled.

Damn, this bitch light as fuck, he thought, she's completely broken. And she's all mine.

Thrust.

He was right.

She was seemingly weightless against him, and even with no walls or ground to stand on or press against, her weight was unusually minimal so as to cause little to no discomfort. Keante held onto her tightly, and knew deep in his core, that he refused to let go.

Back and forth, they continued to move and explore each other. Slowly and surely, but then as they kissed, a buzz vibrated between them.

Ah, he sighed tensely.

And then he felt it. That sweet puckering of the flesh. The huffing of veins and tendons as a blast of energy snaked through him and gave him a burst of adrenaline from his head to feet. The length of the travel throbbing and intoxicating the body as fluids and secreting glands came together and burned in an ecstasy that only meant one thing: his climax was close.

"Fuck", he said quietly, "aww fuck babe."

Ending the brief pause, Keante began to quicken, as did she—only they never really moved, but were frozen in space. They moved against each other, the rhythm increasing in heat and in tempo, He was unable to stop as he licked and bit, sucked, and kissed her, and she unable to let go. She started shinning again, the light she emitted blanking out her shape, her outline. But that didn't faze him, and Keante refused to let go and continued digging.

Thrust.

Fuck this shit feels so good.

Thrust.

Damn, I can't enough of this pussy, it keeps sucking me in.

Thrust.

My god, it's eating me up, I don't know if I can stop.

As his thoughts ran wild with animalistic fury, time stopped.

Meanwhile, her light dimmed until she became visible again, and as she did, the black and white scale of contrast made her more beautiful.

Only…

It wasn't a she that he was looking at.

In fact, it was never a she at all…

…

It was… a He.