Ship of Theseus

And even her labia looked the same.

He leaned forward, blowing out, the wash of his warm breath stirring between the tops of her thighs along that glorious pussy he knew she'd give him, soon, and he caught a sharply inhaled gasp of air from her mouth above when she realized he was still leaning forward, his face not stopping even as it brushed the bottoms of her ass and kept going, his breath tickling her once again, closer, and her hands instinctively clutched the edges of the desk as she blew out a long, ragged breath.

"Oh!" He was expecting the squeal, knowing it was what she'd do, his brain picking and sorting through the memories now. He kissed gently, his lips barely skating along her flesh, out along the bottom curve of her left cheek, then back across her shivering anus, then out the other way before kissing more insistently along the top of her right thigh, scouting that heady frontier where leg became ass, swooping low and bringing his tongue out now; the harsh room lighting picked out the trail of saliva he left on her skin, a clear road pointing straight down to her slit.

Her breath rippled in a soft curse, some language he'd never heard, but her body was doing its own communicating now: she bent over, abruptly, her tits squashed on the desktop and her ankles sliding apart, butt high, showing him she wanted it.

But he already knew, the memories overlying reality, his tongue leading the way past the firm lips of her pussy, and she gasped abruptly when his own lips touched her. He pressed, staying still until she pressed back, her thigh muscles tightening beneath his fingers, and then he attacked, the dam breaking, his tongue darting long and eager into her body, angled down to find the spot behind her clit he knew she'd explode.

Where she'd always exploded.

He persevered, pushing into her, and then her knees sagged and his arms were holding her up, grappling her tighter against himself until she was perching on his face, impaled on tongue and nose with her breath already gusting in great heaving gasps. They stayed like that a few moments, Dwayne on his knees with his face in his woman's ass, feasting, her shivering as she regained control and spread her legs wide for him. "Lick me," she commanded, low and harsh, but he didn't need to hear it; his fingers had already left ugly pink weals along the front of her thighs, marking her where he'd pinioned her legs against his body, and a speckled red flush was spreading down her chest and over the remembered freckles of her breasts.

"More," she wheezed, his right hand slipping up and curling inward, grazing her pubic hair, driving his new finger past her clit to swirl in her pussy alongside his tongue. She leaked at once, copiously, her body juicing to receive the cock it knew was coming, her whole mind overwhelmed with lust, goosebumps pricking up and down her legs and up to her hips. She gulped hard, her body an undulating wave, riding the man behind her, beneath her, sampling what he was so eager to give her.

He stroked quickly, furiously, the newer hand and fingers working from the old brain, pulling her orgasm efficiently out of her body like he'd always done, her limbs alternately taut and rubbery as she staggered to escape his grasp and fall to her own bed; it was the only thought, now, in her mind as the orgasm overtook her, that she had to lie down, had to open herself to this man who knew her body so well, and the two of them scuttled across the tiny room still linked by tongue and mound.

"That's it," he grated, letting her fall to the mattress like a clipped puppet, her flushed body coiled up with her glimmering vagina opening, spasmodically; she had her legs flopped over the side of the bed and her lidded eyes rolling until they found her man, rising from the floor with his penis hard and ready. She licked her lips, frantic, watching closely as he kicked her legs even further apart. "You're more than ready, Arielle, my lover," he spat with a strange sort of light in his eyes, and her lips fell open on a caught breath as he stepped between her shining thighs, his hips dipping low to take her.

The hot, slick tension as his thick head invaded the swelling lips of her reddened pussy left them both gasping hard, their eyes riveted to each other, his hips steadily feeding her more of himself. And, as he'd known she would, she took him in greedily, his pace perfect for her as she adjusted, in and out an inch at a time. Her nipples quivered with the force of her panting breaths. "Please," she whispered, her body still on fire. He could feel the orgasm fluttering along her labia, just as he'd known it would, while her desperate body sucked him in. "Please fuck me."

He replied with a single smooth thrust, not stopping now until his scrotum swung crushed up against the salivated flesh that bridged her crotch. "Mmm," she moaned, her face blissful now that she knew he was fully inside, and she curled her body back to watch his hands grip her tits, squeezing hard, holding her down against the sudden quick power of his thrusts.

She felt her mind drift off again, still pink and hazy and far away. This man fitted her perfectly and knew exactly how to use her, his penis firm and sturdy, angling left, then right, then up where her clit popped now from under its hood, eager for his touch. She bucked back up as best she could, but he really didn't need it; he was doing just fine on his own, guiding her toward another tearing climax, their flesh slapping loudly together with each forceful jab into her.

She was screaming, though she didn't know it, her cracked cries telling the world of the pleasure he was giving so willingly, his own face a mask of exultant wonder as he watched his length disappear into his woman, again and again, a sight he never again thought he'd see. The harsh pressure rose behind his balls, nudging forward, familiar and wondrous as it was every time, but now lofted to new heights by her overjoyed face and the broad fan of her hair spread across the rumpled sheets.

Faster he drove into her, holding himself there longer each time as he grunted, the tension rising once more as his cock threatened to give way; twice more, then again after that, until with a last thrust that drove her legs frog-kicking into the air behind him he ground his pelvis against hers and let go at last.

The semen shot from his quivering head, pumping far, far inside her, their gasps lost in the sudden exhausted silence left behind by his wildly hosing dick still releasing into her, his head back and his hands hooked beneath her knees, until with a panting lurch he fell across her slack body, their arms falling naturally around each other, lost now in the quivering aftermath of their shared lust.

* * *

He rose at last from her embrace, the perfect morning passing slowly outside, looking down at her one last time where she preened on the bed. She smiled. "Who's Arielle?"

"What's that?" He could not stop beaming, looking wistfully at where his cum was seeping delicately from her swollen pussy. His cum. She stretched luxuriantly.

"Arielle." When she smiled, it was the same exact smile, the breath leaving him once more. "You called me that, earlier, before you took me. 'Arielle, my lover.' Who is she?"

He paused, his eyes far away now, and when he smiled a song was whistling through his head. Her song. "What's your name, babe?"

She yawned. "I'm Anatta."

"Anatta." He nodded, reaching to the desk , scooping the unused capsule carefully into his hand. He'd need to return it to Kethys, he knew. She'd understand at once. An unused capsule was a serious matter, but Dwayne no longer cared.

The girl twisted on the soiled sheets, showing off that slim, glorious body she'd always had. "Tell you what," she laughed hoarsely, "if every man here fucks me like that, I'm going to have no complaints. Y'all can call me whatever you want. It's as if you love me."

He didn't have to force this smile, not now. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He took a deep breath then, his eyes drinking her for the last time. "My wife died 376 years ago this week," he told her quietly. "You... you look a little like her." Wouldn't do to make her skittish. "You take care, Anatta."

"It was wonderful, Dwayne. Thank you." She watched him dress swiftly, then leave without looking back. And then she sank into the mattress, grinning, enjoying the thick feel of his semen oozing down along her inner thigh.

* * *

Keth did frown as he laid the capsule back on the counter. "Fuck," she sighed, licking her lips, unable to meet his eyes. "I mean, I don't even know what kind of report I need to fill out on this. But I'm sure it's a hell of a lot of paperwork."

"You can do it." His smile had gone melancholy.

She looked at him at last, her eyes hard. "Did you get her pregnant?"

Dwayne pondered, thinking back, evaluating. He'd done this so often; sometimes, you could tell. "High likelihood," he allowed, and she looked away. "I think I need a change of pace."

"No shit?" she blurted, a heavy silence falling between them like a shroud.

"Yes, shit." He smiled, a wide and satisfied smile. "Think I'll go become a Rancher." She blinked, lost, but it didn't matter. She'd find out soon enough. The Elimination Section was down the street, by the near side of the ridge, and it was always hungry. "Take care, Keth."

When she spoke, he was already far away. "You too, Sugar-dick. I'll miss you."

"It'll never get any better, ever again," he told her, smiling slightly, and that's all the explanation anyone ever got.

* * *

Ensure you read all the rest of the 2021 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event. We love to write for you, and we love your feedback!