Jen's Legacy.

It, that part of his, that third item, was at this very moment, deep within her body; her vaginal muscles clamped tight around its base…right there… almost at the base.

She could see a constriction around him there. That must be her doing that, but what was causing it? Her vaginal sphincter muscle, of course, though it could not be seen, even as the obvious constriction was slowly moving down his shaft as he slid deeper and deeper into her body.

She could even feel that stranglehold sensation in her own body, and she was witnessing the changes in it, live, outside of her body, while able to feel it within her at the same time. With each tense push he made into her, and which she could feel, there was a corresponding pulse, visibly expanding that bulbous head of his penis, opening it, flaring the base of that ‘head’, out into a more obvious mushroom shape in front her, stretching the vaginal wall within her. Then, she watched it contract again, ready for the next pulse. She could feel that happening within her, feeling each push, sensing that head swelling within her vagina even as she saw it happening here, outside of her body; expanding, and then relaxing.

He was steadily building up to the time when he would come again, but she had one thing to do first.

Back in that dream again, she walked over to that third exhibit as that auctioneer had.

She was naked, as she would have to be for this adventure, and as she seemed to be most of the time in Royce’s company—and she did not want that to change—unsealed the flap into his testicles as she had seen the auctioneer do, then concentrated, closing her eyes.

She felt herself getting smaller and smaller, (like Alice eating one side of a different kind of mushroom) before she climbed in--the size of a sperm herself now--sealing it behind her, ready to follow the convoluted path of his sperm when that order came, that the moment to ‘mobilize’, had come. Not far off, now. She had learned enough to recognize that moment.

It was not as dark as she had expected. There was a faint bioluminescent glow surrounding her, and already she detected the orders going out from above, in the urgent call for sperm (never anything less than an urgent call).

Now, dammit! Now!

She was witness to the gathering clouds of sperm in their hundreds of thousands, migrating out from the epididymis, nestled upon his testicles; moving up the tube of the vas deferens, carrying her with them. Ascending over the pubic bone, descending, as on a roller coaster ride; swooping past the seminal vesicle (how did she know all of these names?) where the seminal fluid... to lubricate them on their course... was pulsed into it, providing a swimming medium for each sperm. Soon, she and his sperm would be expelled by reflexive contractions of muscles, to give mind-shaking momentum to everything; giving them a boost, to shoot out of his urethral duct at the last step... propelled out, to end up deep within her own body, at her cervical opening. Those sperm would then fight, to travel up into her uterus and fertilize her waiting ovum, and to begin development along that path to a complete pregnancy. It was about to happen.

She wanted to witness that expulsion, that diaspora; expulsion without return, though it might not be a good idea to end up in her own body while this was happening to her, but why not? She could retreat from that dream at any time.

Outside of that alternative microscopic reality, Claire’s arms went around Royce to tighten in excitement, to pull him closer to her, as his arms pulled around her. There was that thought again. ‘So there was even more of him. So what?’ It still nagged at her.

They moved as close together as they could, blending their bodies together properly this time, kissing as though kissing were about to go out of style. He paused for a moment, sighed with relief, his head falling to her shoulder to breathe warm air down over her breasts, then recovered and continued to push. There would be no more pausing, now. Everything had gone beyond that point-of-no-return.

She felt him beginning to come, and concentrated again, willing herself to sense things from within both her own, and his body.

He had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily all over her with his heated breath, running this special race; a sprint, not a marathon, pushing at her steadily, moving her body with the force of it. It was not hurting her so much now, though she was excruciatingly tight upon him, but not so painful that she needed to say anything. She would not object, or try to stop him having got this far, but should take advantage of the moment, pull him fully into her, except he was already there--she fervently hoped--and get this moment behind her once and for all. But nothing of this should be done in haste. Except she couldn’t slow it down.

She felt all of him moving into her body, still moving into it; physically moving her, wondering when it would end, when he would at last be fully and finally in there, in her, not sure how much more of him she could take, but always able to take more. Then he was fully into her, just when she had been ready to despair of ever accommodating all of him. But she had managed to take all of him, and she did not understand that! Her body had adjusted?

Her head dropped to his shoulder as she trembled at the relief of it all, knowing that she was succeeding.

“I hope I am not hurting you too much, my love.” He paused, kissing her again, concerned for her, though it was too late for that. There was no retreating now and he knew it, with the emotions beginning to build already at the sheer excitement he felt every minute he was with this woman and they were together, building toward this very moment.

“No, Royce, you are not hurting me so much, and at least we will soon get all of this behind us. I was afraid we might not be able to do this so soon, but it had to be done.”

They were like that for several more moments as they kissed, and he continued to push into her, having been denied this sensation of such close intimacy with her for what seemed like a lifetime, even though it had been only two full days.

He began to feel as though he had come full circle. It was a persuasive thought, that Jen had indeed delivered him—as Claire had herself suggested—into Claire’s hands to look after, once he’d rescued her.

What was there about this special person called, Claire? She and Jen were not so much alike, though both could be aggressive and loving when they knew what they wanted.

He was 'coming' now; he had tried to delay it by talking, taking his mind off what was happening, but couldn’t delay anything. The sensations had begun, and would never be slowed, or stopped.

She felt he was crying again now, in relief at feeling that he was once more as alive as he should be. Now he just had to wrap his head around what was happening, and try to rationalize it, to see some meaning and purpose in it, except what was happening, had meaning enough to drive them along for the rest of their lives.

He was in love and he was loved, he had been given his life back. What more did he need to know? It was what Jen would have wanted for him. He became breathless, building up to that final release, looking down at her, helpless in his love. And he was coming. Oh, god, he was certainly coming now!