The Impossible

Summary

An Alternate Universe, where Darren is a girl. Yes, it's another one of those fics. What if it's possible to change your destiny? One impossible slip and everything could change. Yay for SteveDarren! Fic,

Disclaimer: The Saga of Darren Shan belongs to Darren Shan. I am not making any money out of writing this piece of fiction.
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Chapter 2 of 19
Posted: August 15, 2012

Chapter 2: Reunion of the Night Allies

Disclaimer: My name's not Darren Shan.

A/N: I added an A/N at the end of the summaries, so if you want, you can scroll down and find it. It's pretty obvious. But then you'll miss all the little changes I made to the story. Like Debbie.

But then again, I would have scrolled down. Because I would have wanted to read about Steve.




Chapter 2: Reunion of the Night Allies

Fourteen years ago, I made a great mistake. I stole a poisonous spider from a vampire. I paid the price for my crime, trading my humanity to gain my best friend's life back.

My name is Darren Shan. I'm a half-vampire, and female. Don't let the name fool you.

Six years ago, I came to Vampire Mountain, and through a bizarre chain of events, ended up as one of the five Princes of the vampire clan. The Princes hold absolute power over the other three thousand vampires scattered all over the world, and I had the luck to join their ranks. Though I'd gained the position mostly by default.

Except of course, I'm a Princess. Which made me shudder. Whenever someone called me that, my mind would automatically flash to those cliché maidens in distress who waited, looked up in their towers, for someone to rescue them.

It made me retch.

Which is why I insisted to be called a Prince, though very few actually obeyed that order. Particularly the three Princes that I ruled alongside. They had no obligation to listen to me - and they didn't.

So I was a Princess. Ew.

I lived an adequately comfortable life, working on the sidelines as the War of the Scars ensued.

That is, until Mr Tiny once again invaded our lives, turning everything topsy turvy.

He warned us that the Vampaneze Lord had been blooded, and there would be four chances where he'd be at our mercy, and we could kill him to ensure victory for the vampires. However, only three vampires could go after him - me, Mr Crepsley and another vampire I had yet to meet, accompanied by as many non-vampires as we liked.

And so the hunt for the Vampaneze Lord began!

I studied my two companions closely as we travelled. One was my mentor, Mr Crepsley, who was secretly more like a father than a mentor to me. He wasn't much to look at, with his short crop of orange hair and long, ugly scar running down the left side of his face. But he was one of my dearest friends.

The other was Harkat Mulds, my closest friend on Vampire Mountain who had saved my life twice. He was a Little Person, who'd been one of the living once, but died, and Mr Tiny brought him back to life in a new, stunted body. He wasn't much to look at either. He bore features similar to the Frankenstein monster, with dead, grey skin, no visible ears (it was stitched beneath his scalp) or a nose, no hair and a face that had been roughly stitched together.

I had no right to talk, though. I was bald, which, I know, is not a good look for an adolescent girl. But I had long given up the luxury of looking pretty. I didn't have time to look pretty. War was upon us. And even if it hadn't, I doubt I would have put in the effort to make myself look attractive. As far as I knew, very few vampires actually looked like models. That was the life of a vampire. There was pride in bearing scars, no matter how ugly they seemed. I could, however, do with being a little bit taller. If I had put on Harkat's blue robe and drawn the hood over my head, I could disguise myself as one of them. That was how miniscule my size was.

We travelled on to Lady Evanna's, who, I was told, was a witch. Well, sort of. Unfortunately, on the way there, something horrifying occurred.

My hair grew back and I started leaking blood from my lower region.

I know, crazy, right?

But I swear, it really did happen.

I had been itching like crazy all over my head and felt a sort of dull pain in my stomach for a while now, and Seba, Mr Crepsley's mentor, had said that he did not know what the pain was all about, but my itching was a product of "coming of age". I had wondered what he meant, until one peaceful evening.

I woke up, feeling ridiculously good. The itching had stopped. Full of bliss, I went to a small pond near our camp-site to wash my face. In my dazed state, I saw a long-haired girl in the water and panicked. After a few stupid moments, I realised it was me, noticing the scar above my right eye. First, I ran a hand over my head, fingering the long locks stupidly. Then I screamed. Then, seeing red stains all over my shorts, I screamed again. Harkat and Mr Crepsley came rushing.

They didn't recognise me at first, but eventually I managed to convince them that I wasn't some kind of disguised vampaneze.

After changing my shorts, I sat down on a blanket at our campsite, and wound another blanket around my body, feeling ridiculously exposed for no absolute reason. I demanded an explanation from Mr Crepsley as to what was happening to me.

"We call it The Purge," Mr Crepsley told me.

"The Purge?" I echoed.

"Yes. It occurs when the vampire blood cells start to attack the human ones and convert them, morphing the half-vampire into a full vampire. The unusual hair growth and itching are symptoms of the first stage. But it will be a while until you change completely into a full vampire,"

"Then what about the blood?" I asked.

"That... I do not know," Mr Crepsley said.

"It seems a bit like menstruation," Harkat remarked. My jaw dropped, and I nearly dropped my blanket in shock.

"No, that is impossible. Vampires are not fertile, and menstruation is a sign of fertility," Mr Crepsley said, scratching his long scar. "This is highly unusual," he sighed. "A half-vampire of your age is rare, female vampires are even more unusual and I can say with some confidence that you are the first adolescent female half-vampire in existence."

I stared at the remnants of our fire intently, shocked into a confused daze. Mr Crepsley sighed.

"Either way, it matters not. There is nothing we can do about it now. We must continue with our journey," he said, and that was the end of our discussion. At the next town we stopped by, I went to the pharmacy and bought 'feminine' products, stammering to the cashier, embarrassed as hell.

I grew six centimetres taller within a period of six weeks. Which I was ecstatic about, seeing as how I was often compared to Harkat in terms of size. And I wasn't a Little Person, just little. The purge brought about turmoil for my senses, but they begun to stabilise after six weeks. I had also grown in the chest area, resulting in me having to venture in the most embarrassing part of a department store's clothing section. Mr Crepsley and Harkat mercifully left me to suffer by myself as I browsed through the various underwear. My hips had also flared out, resulting in me finally getting rid of the flat, washboard figure I'd had... much to my dismay. There was no way I could pass off as a guy now. Then there was also my face. I'd lost my childhood fat, and it had grown sort of longer, and softer. More feminine. It made me sigh, how I would have to explain to everyone why my name was Darren.

On the way to Lady Evanna's, we met the final hunter. Vancha March, a Prince who had the most disgusting habits I had ever seen. I winced, watching the green globs of phlegmy spit he spat all over the place. I may have been a tomboy, but such lack of hygiene just didn't seem right to me.

And Lady Evanna. She was not what I'd expected. But she warned me that looks could be deceiving. I liked her, but I had to wonder if the feeling was mutual. Though my senses returned and stabilised, the blood continued to visit me every month. Lady Evanna regarded it suspiciously, muttering something about it being 'highly unusual', and 'what could he be up to?', but refused to tell me anything more.

Then we travelled to the Cirque Du Freak, following our hearts, as Mr Tiny had advised. There we had one chance to kill The Lord of the Vampaneze, one chance to change the future. Unfortunately, we were unsuccessful. It turned out that Vancha's brother, Gannen Harst, was the personal guard of the Lord of the Vampaneze, who was disguised as a servant. Vancha let his brother go, as well as the Vampaneze Lord.

Vancha suffered a great amount of guilt, and attempted suicide by sunburn. We stopped him and shook him out of his guilt-induced stupor, and he went back to Vampire Mountain to report our confrontation with the Vampaneze Lord, leaving Mr Crepsley and I to continue our hunt.

But I couldn't help thinking that there was something familiar about the Vampaneze Lord's voice. I'd only heard him speak once, right before we ambushed them, so I guess I didn't have a very good basis to make assumptions from. However, it bugged me how the voice sounded both familiar and not. I shrugged it off, thinking that I was brooding too much about it.

We left the Cirque Du Freak, and for the first few months, we simply wandered around. And then we headed to Mr Crepsley's home city which we discovered was being preyed upon by the vampaneze. The town was in a state of uproar over the recent killings.

And the weirdest thing of all? I got enrolled into a school. And nobody knows how nor why. It wasn't Mr Crepsley, though the forms were supposedly enrolled by Vur Horston, his original name.

We ignored the mystery for the time being, and I went to school to avoid any unwanted snooping and pestering by officials as to why a fifteen year old girl wasn't going to school.

Another surprise awaited me in school. I was reunited with my first girlfriend, Debbie. We had met thirteen years ago when Mr Crepsley was hunting a vampaneze named Murlough who was haunting his home town just as the vampaneze were right now. When I met Debbie, I felt this nonsensical attraction to her. We simply connected. I hadn't had that kind of reaction to anyone except Steve. Debbie did too, and wrote it off as hormonal attraction, thinking I was a boy. When I informed her of my gender, she simply took it in stride and I was shifted from romantic interest to best friend. She was the only female friend I'd ever really liked.

When I saw her at school, I was thrilled. So was she. Until she remembered how old I was supposed to be. I made up an excuse. She was a close friend, but I didn't want to tell her about vampires and vampaneze. She wouldn't believe me anyway.

She helped me out in school, tutoring me in things I was way behind on. I don't think I could've survived school life without her.

On one of our usual tutoring sessions during a Friday night, she met me at the door and apologised to me. She had a date and would be unable to tutor me. I winked, wished her good luck and made myself scarce. She smiled wryly at me before telling me to walk home safely.

I walked the streets, my mind elsewhere, thinking about how the teenage girl that I'd met was dating too... And I still didn't have anyone.

Sure, some vampires told me - in what I presumed was a joking manner - that when I grew older, they'd seek me out. But I didn't like them that way. I knew that. In fact, there was only one person who I'd ever had romantic inclinations towards.

Not the first time in so many years, I thought of Steve Leopard. He was a constant in my mind. I often wondered how he was and what he was doing right now. Stuff like that. I wondered if he still remembered me and the oath he'd made.

It was as I was brooding deeply on such thoughts that I failed to notice a presence behind me until it sneaked up on me and bashed me in the head. I rolled away, narrowly avoiding struck by a sharp, metallic hook. I studied my assailant, noting the red eyes and inhuman speed. Vampaneze. He had no hands, just two metallic attachments at the ends of his elbows, three curved hooks on each.

He lunged forward to attack me and I avoided him, the metal claws dug into the brick wall, gouging out a sizeable crater when he pulled free. I took advantage of the time he took to free his hand and kicked him in the chest. But he'd been expecting it and brought his other arm down upon my shin, cruelly knocking my leg aside.

The hooks on it tore through my leg. I gasped in pain.

I tried to run, but my injured leg prevented me from doing so. I took a couple of strides and collapsed to the floor. I whirled onto my back, planning to face death instead of letting it stab me in the back.

"Going to cut you," The vampaneze hissed. "Slow and painful. I'll start with your fingers. Slice them off, one at a time. Then your hands. Then your toes. Then-"

Just when I'd given up all hopes of survival, something shot by the vampaneze's head, missing him narrowly.

The vampaneze cursed and retreated, muttering vowed threats as he left. Another steel-tipped arrow was fired after him, but he ducked and it missed.

(A/N: More or less the end of the summaries!)

For a long time, everything remained silent. Then a man appeared. He was of medium height, though I guess that I would come up to his nose if I stood next to him. That was how tiny I was, even after the Purge. He was dressed completely in black, a long scarf loped around his neck and gloves covering his hand. He had grey hair - but wasn't old - and he seemed sort of stern. He held a gun-shaped weapon, out the end of which jutted a steel-tipped arrow.

I sat up with some difficulty. "Thanks," I said as the man got closer. He didn't answer, simply walked in the direction the vampaneze had left, checking for any signs of a comeback. Then he walked back to me, holding his arrow gun and pointed it at me.

"Mind lowering that? You just saved my life. Be a shame if that went off by accident and killed me."

He didn't lower the gun. "Does it surprise you that I spared your life?" he asked. There was something familiar about his voice, like the vampaneze before, but I couldn't place it. But unlike the hooked vampaneze, his voice made my heart beat faster. And I didn't know why.

"Um.. Yes?" I said weakly, eyeing the lethal weapon in his hands.

"Do you know why I saved you?"

"Out of the goodness of your heart?" I said, and there was no denying the hopeful tone in my voice.

"Maybe," He stepped closer, and I could vaguely feel the tip of the arrow gun poking my chest through my layers of clothing. "Or maybe I was saving you for myself!" he hissed.

"Who are you?" I croaked, trying to move backwards, away from the gun, only to be impeded by a wall.

"You don't recognise me?"

I shook my head in reply. His face looked so familiar, but I just could place it. He seemed sort of hurt that I couldn't recognise him. My heart started beating even faster.

"Strange. I never thought you'd forget. Then again, it's been a long time. And the years haven't been as kind to me as they've been to you. Perhaps you'll remember this," He held out his left hand, the palm of the glove revealed the flesh underneath, and my eyes immediately the rough cross that scarred the flesh.

"Steve!" I gasped, staring from the cross to his cold, hard eyes. "Steve Leopard!"

"Yes," he nodded grimly.

Debbie Hemlock walking into my English class was weird enough, but meeting Steve again? I was frozen with shock.

I continued staring at him with wide eyes. Then he lowered the arrow gun and jammed it in a belt behind his back. He extended his hands, grabbed me above the elbow and pulled me to my feet.

"Had you going for a minute, didn't I?" he said, a smile on his face.

"You're... You're not going to kill me?" I whispered in a barely audible tone.

"Of course not," he told me.

I'm embarrassed to say that I, who is about two and a half decades old and one of the five absolute rulers of the Vampires, threw my arms around my old friend and bawled my eyes out like a baby. "Steve!" I sobbed into his shoulder, vaguely aware of my tears and snot leaking from my face and onto his black shirt.

"Stop that," he muttered and I thought I could hear the sound of his voice breaking. He let me continue crying, patting my back awkwardly every few seconds.

After a minute or two, my tears had tapered off into sniffles. I pulled my head back from his chest and looked up at him.

"It's really you!" I said, grinning happily and swiping away the moisture on my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"Of course. You don't think two people could be born this handsome, do you?"

"Modest as ever,"

"Nothing to be modest about," he laughed. "Come on. We should go before Hooky returns with company,"

"Hooky? Oh, you mean the va-" I stopped, wondering how much Steve knew of us mythical creatures. "Vacuum cleaner," I finished quickly.

He looked at me oddly. "Vampaneze," He corrected me.

"Oh good, you know about them," I said, releasing a sigh of relief.

"Yeah. Nice cover, though, with the vacuum cleaner," he said sarcastically, then placed one arm behind my back and another at the back of my knees, and lifted me up bridal style. I squealed in terror, the same way I imagine pigs - and turkeys, if they could squeal - do during Christmas.

"Wait- Steve! Put me down!" I said, throwing an arm around his neck, trying to gain some balance.

"You can't walk, can you?"

"I can hobble!"

"No. Stop squirming, or I'll drop you," he warned. I went still. Both my human and vampire blood rushed to my face. Silence fell between us as Steve continued walking. Then, a few moments later, he broke the silence. "You're really heavy, you know that? How much blood do you drink, anyway?"

My jaw dropped. "Put me down!" I demanded, struggling to get out of his arms.

"Hey, I'm really going to drop- Stop squirming! Hey!"



Steve's hideout was the fifth floor of a run-down apartment block. He put me down in front of a door, allowing me to lean against the wall as he removed the padlock on the door. Then he helped me limp in - no more bridal style lifting - and laid me down on a couch.

The couch was threadbare, and wiry springs stuck out through several holes.

"Try not to impale yourself," Steve laughed. He took down a first aid kit from a shelf. I demanded an explanation for his sudden appearance, but he told me it could wait until after I was treated and Debbie was warned. He explained that the vampaneze had been following me from her house. Using his mobile phone, I was dialling her number before he had finished explaining.

"Debbie?"

"Darren! You wouldn't believe the nerve of that jerk! Can you believe that his wife called him three times during our date? Business call, yeah, right!" she sounded a little drunk.

"Debbie!" I said again, more urgently. "Debbie, I need you to get out of your house. Pack your things and get a room at a hotel. Stay there for the weekend."

"What?" she sounded confused, but more sober. "Darren, what's going on?"

"Debbie, do you want to die?" It was a little harsh, but I was at my wit's end. And my wound really hurt. She was silent for a few seconds

"No," she answered quietly.

"Then please, trust me, and get out of there," I hung up, hoping she'd do as I said. Steve proceeded to treat my wounds and fill me in on Hooky. He was gentle, and I hardly felt any pain as he stitched it up.

After he was done, I asked him what he'd been up to for the last fifteen years. He asked me to go first. In the end, we flipped a coin. Steve lost, and started to tell me of what he'd been doing.

He told me of how he'd been enraged at Mr Crepsley and I for a long time and how that changed when he befriended some vampires with the intention of killing them, only to learn that we weren't evil. We didn't kill humans when we drank. Then he learned of the vampaneze and was amazed that such creatures existed. He decided to hunt them down instead. He informed me that he had killed six so far, and of the horrors of killing with stakes.

"He died on top of me, his blood drenching me, his face next to mine as he shuddered and sobbed and..." Steve looked away. I was overwhelmed with this sudden urge to comfort him.

I scooted closer to him, trying to avoid the wiry springs. I covered his gloved hand with mine, squeezing it in what I hoped was a comforting manner.

"It's okay," I said, feeling useless. I wished I'd been there for him growing up. It sounded like it had been a tough fifteen years. He turned back to me, looking me in the eye. Then he did something I wasn't expecting. He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. I gaped at my best friend, my mind flashing back to what happened the last time we'd seen each other. He continued looking me in the eye, his eyes boring into mine.

"Darren," he whispered, and then leaned forward with the intention, I'm sure, of repeating what happened at the cemetery all those years ago.

Just before his lips touched mine, I spoke, our lips brushing ever so lightly against each other as my mouth formed the words I was speaking.

"Steve. I have the appearance of a fifteen year old. And you're, I don't know, about twenty seven?"

"What's your point, Darren?" he asked. At first I didn't register the question, what with the hot breath on my mouth sending a pleasurable shudder through my whole body. Yes, I was that far gone.

"Um, aren't we breaking some sort of age taboo?"

"We're the same age," he answered.

"Well, yes, but-"

"And since when have I ever played by the rules?" Before I could think up a response, he pressed his lips to mine and all coherent thought flew out of my mind.

His kiss was exactly as I remembered it. Forceful, dominating and completely arousing. I could feel moisture pooling between my legs just from his kiss. Then I felt something wet and soft poking at my closed lips, requesting entrance. I opened my mouth obediently, allowing his tongue to invade my mouth. He explored my mouth with his tongue, running it over my gums and teeth. If it had been anyone else, I would have probably found the act disgusting. But with Steve it only served to excite me even more. I pushed at his tongue with my own and suddenly we were battling each other, the little pink muscles clashing in what seemed to be a territorial dispute.

I sucked his tongue and felt the vibrations of a groan reverberate from his throat and into my mouth. We broke away, gasping for breath. He reached out, tucking back a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. I looked up to see him smiling almost tenderly at me.

"I missed you," he said quietly. I held the same hand that had reached out to me and pressed the gloved palm to the side of my face, sighing in bliss as the warmth from his hand spread all the way to my heart.

"I missed you too," I replied. He chuckled, and with that same hand on my cheek, turned my face upwards and lowered his face to mine once more.

Somewhere throughout the kiss, his hands caught both my wrists and pushed me down on the couch so that I was lying on my back and he was right on top of me. Metal springs prodded into my back. Strangely enough, I could feel something else prodding me in the front. When we broke off, catching our breath, I looked down and blushed. A tent jutted out in the crotch area of his black pants. I'd been lectured enough by my parents on how kids were made to know what it was.

I quickly looked back up, trying to pretend that I'd seen nothing. I glanced at Steve to see if he'd noticed anything amiss. There was a huge smirk on his face, and I knew that he knew that I knew.

"See something you like?" he asked, lowering his head to nip at my throat.

"Um. No," I lied.

"Liar," he said, and sucked my neck lightly. Then he slipped a hand beneath my shirt and cupped my breasts through my bra.

"Steve!" I gasped.

"Yes?" His voice was muffled against my neck.

"Isn't this going a little too fast?" I said. My voice sounded a little weak even to me as he continued laying butterfly kisses on the side of my neck and continued downwards.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, placing a warm hand on my midriff.

I gasped at the contact, nearly completely forgetting what we had been talking about. His smirk seemed permanently etched onto his face now. He moved the hand that been on my stomach upwards, slipping it behind my back and unhooking my bra. Then he stroked both my breasts. I totally forgot what I had been thinking about.

One by one he removed my clothing, tossing them onto the floor, until I was completely naked. All he had removed was his scarf. I tried my best to cover myself up with my arms, hide my flaws. He grasped my wrists and held them to either side of my head. I noted that he was pretty strong for a human. He studied my bare form lustfully. I cringed, embarrassed.

"Um," I said, feeling proud that I could still control my now bruised mouth enough to form words. "Is there a reason why I'm completely naked and you're not?"

He grinned. "That eager, huh?"

"No," I lied again. Then he straddled my waist, his erection prodding me more prominently, and removed his shirt. He threw it to the floor.

"Happy?" he asked.

"No," I said, telling the truth for once. He smirk got wider and he got off me. He stood up and removed his pants, revealing plain black boxers. I wanted to laugh. I had to admire his colour coordination skills. Then he took off the boxers too, and his erection sprang free.

I stared at it and winced mentally. I continued staring even as he got back on top of me. An unimportant part of my brain noted that he still had his gloves on.

"What?" he asked uncomfortably, the smirk gone.

"Is..." I swallowed, my throat had gone dry in light of this new revelation. "Are you sure that can fit into this?" I asked, pointing at his crotch and then to my lower region. I wondered if it was normal for guys to be that big. Or was that why Steve was so full of himself?

The smirk returned. "Of course," He kissed me again. I was so distracted by the kiss that I failed to notice that he had placed a hand between us until he slipped two gloved fingers inside me. I nearly bit off his tongue. I broke off the kiss, panting and gasping at the strain of my inner muscles.

"Wow," he said a little breathlessly. "You're a little tight, aren't you?"

I tried to focus on what he was saying, but it was difficult to think through the cloud of pain that flooded my brain.

I gritted my teeth as he started to move his fingers in and out. He started with a slow pace, then seeing me wince less as the pain melted into pleasure, he went faster. His hand occasionally brushed against my clitoris and I could feel something coming, something was happening. I moaned, unable to control myself.

"Steve, faster..." I begged. He complied, and added a finger. I nearly screamed. His three middle fingers continued to thrust into me. I was so close. I could feel something happening. Then he stopped. I groaned in frustration.

He chuckled. "Sorry, but I want your first orgasm to happen with me inside," he said, his hot breath tickling my ear. I felt something much thicker and longer poking at my womanhood. He looked at me, a worried expression on his face. "It's going to hurt," he told me. I nodded, not trusting my voice. "But it'll get better, I promise," I nodded again. "If you want me to stop, tell me," Before I could nod again, he lowered his head to kiss me once more, before pushing himself inside.

It wasn't painful at first, just uncomfortable. I felt stretched but not as bad as if he hadn't readied me with his fingers. Then he reached my barrier, the proof of my virginity. With one swift thrust, he tore it apart. I screamed into his mouth, gripped the threadbare, holey fabric left on the couch and bunched it beneath my fists tightly.

Holy crap, that had hurt. I had my thumb sliced off once, but that didn't seem as painful. Maybe it was because I felt more vulnerable, more violated. At that time, I didn't even have the time to worry about it. And it had gotten reattached. Vampire abilities – supposedly tougher bones and muscles – hadn't helped at all against the pain of losing one's maidenhead.

Steve watched me as I accustomed myself to his size. I could tell from his expression that he badly wanted to pound into me, to rid me totally of my virgin status. But he remained patient as I tried to think past the pain. I looked down between our legs and realised that he was only three quarters in. I gulped, a little terrified.

"Do you want to stop?" Steve asked quietly. His expression told me he couldn't believe what he was asking but his tone was serious.

"No... Just... keep going. Slowly..." I replied. He nodded and pulled himself out a little before thrusting himself back in. I gasped in pain. He paused, hesitating. "It's okay," I gasped out.

He frowned, but nodded. He continued the process, seeming to get deeper each time. My walls continued to squirt out liquids, lubricating my passage, lessening the friction. I moaned as the pain slowly melted into pleasure, as it did before. He increased the pace, pulling his manhood nearly all the way out and shoving it all the way in. I screamed suddenly as I felt him thrust against some part of me that had me shaking with pleasure.

"Steve," I gasped. "Steve, do that again,"

"What?" he looked confused. Then I saw realisation dawn on his face. "Oh," he said, and thrust into me, hitting the same spot he had before, causing the same burst of pleasure to shoot through my body. He grinned as I moaned loudly. He started thrusting harder and faster, I gripped the couch covers more tightly and started pushing against him as well, in an attempt to intensify the pleasure. He shoved into me so hard that the couch groaned in protest. With every thrust, he embedded himself deeper.

"Steve, something's... Something's happening," I said. Or at least I think I said it. Fireworks seemed to be going off in my head. Then my body started shaking as my inner muscles clamped down mercilessly on his manhood, milking him for all he was worth. Steve made a noise that sounded like he had choked, and I felt a rush of hot liquid shoot inside me. Steve collapsed against me, and I could feel his semen continue to flow steadily into me.

I slipped my arms around his sweaty back, hugging him close as we rode out our orgasms together.

Unbeknownst to me, this was a relatively important turning point in my life. Unfortunately, I was too preoccupied with getting my breathing back to its normal rate to notice it.



A/N: This was one of the very first lemons I wrote, so it's not very good.



 

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