Starting a New Life

You take his hand, guiding him to the most private spot you can find. It’s hard to be patient and actually find a place where nobody will come by.

Soft Hands, -a name that he’s made his own with his skills as a lover-, agreed to make real love. Uninhibited by any unnatural interference. Just you, him, and no birth control. Nothing between you.

This spot will do. You toss him at the ground, but realize how rough you’re being halfway through his fall and catch him before he lands. Gently, you set him down.

“Thanks.” He says in relief.

“Sorry. I’m just excited.” You smile, crawling on top of him. “You’re sure you’re alright with this?”

He nods. “Absolutely.”

The solid determination in his voice, and steady eye contact from his sky-blue eyes sends your heart rate skyrocketing. He really means it.

You prepare to rip his shirt right off, but then you stop yourself again. He likes this shirt. So instead you rip your own off. You want to get at it right now. You pull his pants down, then your own as he works his shirt.

“But your shirt!”

“I’ll wear one of your old ones.” You dismiss his concern. “Wait, hold on.” You rummage through your bag. You take out the tiny little shrine. You set it to the side. Then, still unsatisfied, you take out a few candles and make a quick prayer for fertility. You’re the farthest thing from a preistess, but this is one of those basic things the more pious

“I’m taking your seed as many times as you can handle, Soft Hands.” You warn him. “I hope you ate well today.”

“Of course I did.” He sounds almost offended before the rest of the implications catch up in his head. He gulps. It’s always adorable the way he reacts. “I, uh, I’m not sure how many times I have in me.”

“We’ll find out.” You slide down his body, taking his pride into your hands. You emphasis with a lick. “Tonight isn’t about rocking my work, or doing anything fancy. It’s all about you, and release. Don’t focus on anything else.”

He gasps when you take him into your mouth. You love the way he seems so helpless. Putting him under your control makes you feel strong. Powerful. Matronly. Satisfied that he’s already close after a short time, you quickly rush yourself on top of him and take his member inside of you. Even as excited and ready as you are, you always have to brace for it.

But you’re so excited. This is it. This is being a woman in the most meaningful way.

You can’t wait any longer. You push up and straddle him. “Feel the heat.” You say excitedly as you take his hand and guide it between your legs. He doesn’t just feel the heat, he creates more with a soft and skillful touch. You try to keep your concentration so you can make the point you wanted to make. “Feel the heat and look at my hips. I’m-“ you gasp ”not delicate and fragile.”

“But you’re so c-”

“Shh!” You wanted him to continue, but if he did you’d lose yourself completely. “I’m sturdy. My hips are wide. I’m healthy. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” You lean down closer, right to his face. Right to his sweet lips and shining ocean eyes. “I was made to be bred. By you.”

His gaze dashes between both of your eyes. Thoughts begin to scramble under that shiny golden hair of his.

He’s not saying anything.

Oh no.

Say something!

Please.

He kisses you deeply. The shock and intensity overwhelms you so much that you don’t feel him lining himself up until he’s already entering you. A noise comes from deep in your throat that you’re pretty sure sounded like a pathetic, longing whimper. Not the sturdy impression you wanted to give, but it just happened. The way he’s grasping your hips, kissing you, and slowly pushing deep inside you makes your head spin and your thoughts a foggy mess.

You need to take back control. Put actions to you words. You’re strong. Strong enough for strong children and a strong legacy. You gather a willpower you’ve neglected too many times in life to do something helpful now, and push his arms down.

He looks confused.

The pause in the moment makes you more aware of how sweaty you’ve become already. How hard your heart is pumping from what felt like an eternity of lovemaking but was probably just a minute or two. You force through those thoughts and instead smile down on him, and explain what you’re doing. “Don’t worry about satisfying me. Just work on releasing. As. Many. Times. As. Possible.” You punctuate each word with a kiss. He gives you smile he gives when he’s going to call you cute. But you’re not going to try to be cute right now. You’re going to try to make Keira’s new job unnecessary.

He gasps and his arms flex when you start to work your kegel muscles. That makes you feel strong again. Powerful. In control. There’s no fear or uncertainty when you’re in control. Just your will and ability to manifest it. With each cycle of flexes, you exercise your will on one step closer to the goal of getting his seed.

But those muscles are getting tired. You should have practiced that more. So you star relying on the friction of going up and down instead. Those muscles won’t get tired for a long time.

Judging from the face he’s making, you won’t need too long, though. You smirk. You hope it’s a smirk, anyway. Your own face is probably doing it’s own thing too. You start coming down quick and hard. And fast. Very fast.

“Give.. give me... give me your...your...” You mumble.

You didn’t need the words. He didn’t have a choice.

He makes the face, and you grind down. In a moment you feel the warm, incredible, pulsing gush, and it’s enough to push you over the edge as well. You grit your teeth and try to keep him as deep inside of you as you can while still your shaking body, hazed brain, and feelings operate mostly independent of your will.

When the storm inside your body is over, you very slowly remove him from yourself, exhaling air from your nose in a light a giggle.

“That was fun.” You say.

“Yeah. Wow.” He’s still staring blankly up at the sky. You snuggle in close and star at his eyes instead, ignoring the growing sense of pride from causing him to look so satisfied.

After enough time to rest, you ask him to grab some water. When he comes back, he finds you with clothing under your knees, still naked, and smiling. You glance back only enough to let him know what you want, then you put your hands on the grass, arch your back, give a coy little wiggle that makes you really feel the full weight of your hips, and wait.

You thought he’d be shyer, or need a little longer to prepare. Instead, you gasp as he enters again.

“Don’t worry about anything except giving me your seed.” You growl a reminder to him.

“But I want to give you more.” He says with a deep-voiced confidence.

That’s enough to make you his again already. Everything that comes afterwards, at least before he gives you what you asked for, is just excessive, power-taking, mind-melting fun. Your head bounces every half-second, and that made the tree you were facing bob around in your vision for awhile, but that all became an insignificant blur once your eyes started lose focus and he took total dominance of your mind, body, and heart. The next feeling of pulsing warm life into you slowly brings your brain back into at least somewhat sober thoughts.

A bottle of water is lifted to your face. You take it and drink deep. “Got another one in you?” You manage to exhale.

“Right now?” He sounds worried.

“Tonight.” You say after taking your lips from the bottle again. You decide to stop being so greedy and hand it over. He’ll need to hydrate too.

“Umm, in a bit.” You offers.

You smile, motion for him to drink up, and fish through your stuff for a quick snap while you both recover.

Round three starts off a little awkward. You press him up against a tree and put one leg around for leverage. There’s a bit less energy this time and more concentration on making it quick and economical.

Round four is where he takes over again. Damn him and his energy! You can’t keep control like that! He throws your legs up and buries himself deep into you in a mating press. He’s cruelly stretching it out, but your powerful legs, renewed kegel focus, and begging force him to release his seed before you lose your mind again.

“Hey guys.” Hana comes to check on you both. “How’s it going. Uh, don’t worry, Laki, tonight’s your night.”

“Good.” You give an exhausted grin. Hana’s a good companion. “Because I think our little colonizer has another in him still, right Soft Hands?”

“Colonizer?” He asks innocently.

“Little?” Hana eyes his tired pride.

You crawl over to him. “Hmm. You’re right. A big,  barbarian colonizer. Conquer me.” You

“You, uh, are really getting into this, huh?” Hana pushes her fingers together.

You freeze over Herb. “Well, yeah. I’m serious.” Aren’t they? This might be a baby step, going without any protection for just a night, but you’re resolved. You know some people these days have the idea that you should wait forever, go to school, start a career, interrupt it halfway through, have a kid, come back to some job, neglect your kid, maybe have another a few years later and interrupt your career again, and by then you’re too old and have no energy or time to have more. Not you. You trust Soft Hands to be around while you have children while you’re young and healthy. You trust that you can still find a career and even an education when you’re in your mid thirties or later. That you can raise children without much money. You’re not missing out on some slutty life experience or professional accomplishments in your early adult years; and you’re not jumping into something you haven’t thought out. You’re a woman before you’re a consumer, or a worker, or a Loanan, or even a human. Having babies is the single most basic drive you have after just generally staying alive. Maybe you’re less sophisticated than the other girls, but you feel like you’re much more in touch with what you are down to your DNA. You’re an animal. You’re going to breed like one, with a good mate.

This young man below you with such an unwaveringly strong personality. You’ve never seen him back down from a person or pokemon trying to push him around. He doesn’t take crap from anyone, including you, but he also isn’t just some short-tempered meathead either. He doesn’t stand up to prove something or for his ego. He just takes action. As different as you are from him, and even though you don’t know how to express it in words, you feel a kinship with him from before you were romantic. Something deeper, where you both have a sense of honor and courage. He’s a lot more open with his, and you rarely summon it, but the moments you have and haven’t define you.

You’re overthinking this. He’s got another one in him and you’re going to maximize your chances.

“Hana, get him hard.” You command, smirking down at his pretty eyes.

“Kay!” She says enthusiastically. You move up a bit to give her space to work.

“Ah!” He gasps.

“Sorry. You’re probably sore.”

You stare into his eyes as he stares into yours. There’s something that’s not there that should be. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure.” He confesses. “It’s not that I’m not...having a good time.”

“You and your smooth talk.” You lightly mock out of the exhaustion you’ve built up.

“I know what’s wrong.” Hana says.

You and Soft Hands both turn to her. She becomes suddenly very self-conscious. “Well, uh. You’re making babies.”

“...Yeah?” You don’t want to be flippant, but you don’t know a quicker way to express your confusion as to what she means.

“Okay, so.” She fumbles over her words. “You’re -making babies.- As in, assembling one like furniture. It’s not romantic. It’s this thing you’re doing for a goal without the emotional intimacy. Did you really feel like banging so many times? Were you connecting at all when you were smashing each other’s hips into mush?”

You and Soft Hands exchange another look. She might be right, despite the way she words it.

“Want to cuddle?” He asks.

A part of you still wants to maximize the amount of times he gives you his seed, but...if you’re creating a new life today, you do think it’s best to do it in an act of unabashed love. You’d rather fail to get pregnant tonight and enhance your love and connection and feel good in each other’s arms than the other way around.

You cuddle in close with him. You take the big spoon position again. It’s more fun this way. Hana comes in behind you. None of you are really in a sleeping mood, though. You haven’t even set up a camp or anything. You all just enjoy each other’s company. Sometimes in silence. Sometimes with a little chatting or observations about life and the universe. Sometimes with a little playful tickle or whisper of air into each other’s ears.

You get a little bit more aggressive with Soft Hands, and he huddles himself in to keep your hands from tickling him too hard.

“Soft Hands, are you...hard?” You tease, already knowing the answer.

“Aroused.” Hana corrects, thinking that medical talk is somehow more sexy.

“In love.” He catches you off guard. “With a cutie.” Your heart stops and he takes the chance to clasp your face and kiss you deeply. When he breaks the kiss, Hana comes in to greedily steal another from you while your man begins to take you assertively. You gasp at the suddenness, and how ready you’ve become in such a short moment.

You wanted to feel like a real woman all night, and now it’s happening on a much deeper level. You’re flooded with emotions. “Tell Hana too.” You ask of him with some clarity of mind you managed to force together before falling back into the swirl of emotions and pleasure.

“I love you too, Hana.” He says. You want to be the center of attention and feel special, but that makes you happier, somehow. You don’t hear if she responds and get a bit lost, but you can feel her hands on you as he lovingly dominates your body. There’s something so raw about his energy and intent, yet he’s not hammering away or acting overly dominant. He’s doing what he always does, and being open about his emotions and intentions. And that’s what makes his lovemaking feel so great to you.

You’re lost in an endless ocean of love and passion. There are no walls or pretense in how you move or think, and if they asked any question of you, no matter what it was, you’d answer honestly. That loss of control would terrify you back into guarded thoughts, but tonight it just feels right.

He warns you with the way he kisses that he’s climaxing. You’re already there. The warmth of his love fills you again. But this time is different. It’s not a victory you’ve achieved or conquering you’ve been submitted to, or bid for immortality for your genes. It’s love. It’s intimacy beyond words.

It’s the start of a new life.