Chapter 4: Testing The Richards' Open Marriage
Her laughter crackled through the phone, warm and surprisingly relaxed after the… intensity of our last encounter. "Hey big guy, feel like taking a girl out to dinner?" Seven days. That's how long it took for the phantom contractions to fully fade for her, she’d confided earlier. Respect. The woman had stamina, but my biology wasn't exactly standard issue.
"I'd love to," I replied, leaning back in the ergonomic chair, the city lights painting streaks across my office windows. "Remember the rules?" The memory of her trembling, overwhelmed body, flooded beyond capacity, was vivid. Necessary precautions weren't optional.
"Cowgirl, fifteen-minute safety limit, don't be a hero," she recited, the smile still audible. Then, a beat of hesitation. "Oh, and Reed wants me to record it this time."
I blinked. "Record it?"
"For science, Ron! Purely." Her tone was light, but I heard the underlying scientist’s curiosity. "He's fascinated. Thinks he might be able to analyze the unique properties of your semen, the viscosity shifts, the bio-luminescence. And… honestly, seeing it happen inside me while transparent? It's…" She trailed off, searching for the word. "Visually compelling data."
I chuckled, a low rumble in my chest. Reed Richards needed data. Sure. And Sue Storm-Richards wanted to feel that unique, deep invasion again, the sheer volume pushing her limits without breaking them this time. "Okay, Sue. For science. Your place or mine?"
"Yours," she decided quickly. "The penthouse lighting is better. And it’s… neutral ground. See you at eight?"
"Eight it is."
She arrived precisely on time, looking effortlessly elegant in a simple sheath dress that hugged her curves. The nervous energy from our first meeting was gone, replaced by a focused calm. Her eyes scanned my living space, lingering on the sleek lines, the wall of glass overlooking the endless city grid. Professional. Detached, almost.
"Nice view," she commented, placing a small, high-end recording drone on the glass coffee table. It hummed softly to life, a single lens eye glowing blue.
"Comes with the territory," I shrugged, handing her a glass of chilled white wine. "Reed ready?"
She tapped a button on her discreet wrist communicator. A holographic screen flickered into existence above the drone, resolving into Reed Richards' distinctive, elongated face. He looked… eager. Academically eager, anyway.
"Ron! Excellent. Thank you for accommodating this," Reed began, his voice tinny through the projection. "Susan has briefed you? Minimal risk protocol strictly observed, of course. Fifteen minutes maximum exposure, Sue maintains positional control. We're primarily interested in the ejaculatory phase and its immediate physiological interaction with Susan's endometrial lining. The luminescence is particularly intriguing – indicative of a unique cellular energy signature we haven't catalogued."
"Got it, Reed," I said, meeting Sue’s eyes. A faint blush touched her cheeks, but her gaze was steady. Scientific detachment was her shield, but I could see the anticipation beneath it – the memory of that overwhelming fullness, the strangeness of sensation she was keen to explore again. "Ready when you are, Sue."
She took a final sip of wine, set the glass down decisively, and stood. With a thought, her dress shimmered and vanished, leaving her gloriously nude under the penthouse lights. The sight was breathtaking, but it was the cool, deliberate way she approached me, the scientist assessing her subject, that was uniquely arresting.
"Position," she stated, not a question.
I moved to the low, wide sofa, sinking back into the plush cushions. She straddled me, her knees pressing into the leather on either side of my hips. Her hand, cool and precise, reached down to guide me. The sheer, impossible thickness always elicited a reaction, a soft intake of breath she quickly masked. My own breath hitched as her heat enveloped the head, then slowly, deliberately, she sank down.
"Control is established," she announced, her voice only slightly strained as she took the massive girth inch by inch, her inner walls stretching to accommodate. "Full penetration achieved. Beginning baseline readings." She shifted, finding a comfortable position astride me, her expression focused. "Drone active?"
"Active and recording, Susan," Reed confirmed, his eyes glued to the holographic feed only he could see.
For several minutes, she moved slowly, experimentally. Up and down, shallow then deep, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. "Remarkable density," she murmured, almost to herself. "Generates significant localized pressure. Cervical contact minimal at this depth and angle." Her eyes met mine. "Proceed to phase two?"
I nodded. There was no need for theatrics. I simply… released. The first heavy pulse surged into her, thick and impossibly warm. Sue gasped, her eyes widening, her hips stuttering in their rhythm. Her transparency flickered for a second, instinctively activated, then she consciously held it steady.
"Recording luminescence," Reed's voice was sharp with excitement. "Susan, maintain transparency!"
Inside her, visible through her own ghostly flesh, the first thick ropes of semen pulsed, glowing with that familiar, soft golden light. They didn't just pool; they pushed, seeking depth with unnatural pressure.
"Pressure… significantly increased," Sue breathed, her voice tight. She resumed moving, slower now, grinding down rather than lifting. "Deep intrauterine infiltration occurring almost immediately. Sensation is… profound pressure. Expansion. Distinct from conventional ejaculation." Her knuckles were white where she braced herself on my chest. "Volume estimate?"
"Substantial," Reed supplied, analyzing data only he could see. "Viscosity appears adaptive, thinning upon uterine contact for deeper penetration before re-thickening. Fascinating! Continue observation. Luminescence stable."
Sue bit her lip, a soft moan escaping as another powerful surge pulsed deep. Her inner walls clenched reflexively around me, a ripple that traveled up her spine. "Contraction noted," she reported, her voice losing some of its clinical edge, gaining a breathy quality. "Involuntary. Associated with… intense localized sensation. Pleasurable pressure peak." She dropped her head back, a strand of blonde hair escaping. "Oh god, Ron… it just keeps pushing."
The minutes ticked by. Sue rode the relentless tide, her scientific commentary dissolving into fragmented gasps and moans. "Deep… so deep… feels like… filling every space… glowing… it's hot… Reed, the pressure…!" Her transparency wavered as sensation overwhelmed her ability to consciously maintain it. Inside her, the golden glow pulsed and flowed, a captive starfield visible beneath her skin, pushing rhythmically against her cervix, flooding the chamber beyond. Her skin flushed crimson, dewy with sweat.
"Ten minutes elapsed," Reed announced, his voice betraying a hint of urgency beneath the detached tone. "Physiological signs elevated but within expected tolerances. Susan, report coherence?"
"Full… full…" she panted, her movements becoming erratic, desperate. "Can feel it… inside my womb… pooling… glowing… pushing out…" Her eyes found mine, dazed, drowning in sensation. "Ron… it’s… it’s incredible… don’t stop…!"
"Five minutes remaining," Reed cautioned.
It felt like being milked by a force of nature. Sue rocked against me, her body taking everything I had, her cries growing louder, less coherent. The thick, glowing fluid was a tangible presence, a heavy warmth saturating her deepest core. Her force field flickered unconsciously, a shimmer around her skin, reacting to the intensity. Below her navel, the golden light pulsed visibly through her increasingly opaque flesh, a trapped, radiant storm.
"Three minutes. Susan, prepare for disengagement."
She whimpered, shaking her head minutely, her hips still grinding, seeking that impossible depth. "Almost… there…!"
"One minute. Initiate extraction protocol."
"Not… yet…!" Her climax hit her like a physical blow. She arched violently, a strangled cry tearing from her throat. Her inner muscles clamped down in a powerful, rhythmic spasm, milking another thick, luminous surge from me. Her transparency vanished completely, skin flushed and solid, the internal glow now only a diffuse radiance beneath her abdomen.
"Time!" Reed’s voice cut through her cries. "Disengage, Susan! Now!"
With a sob that was half pleasure, half protest, Sue lifted herself off me with trembling effort. The connection broke with an audible, wet sound. She collapsed forward onto my chest, gasping, shuddering, her entire body trembling. A thick rivulet of the glowing fluid immediately began to trace a path down her inner thigh, shimmering against her skin.
"End recording," Reed commanded. The drone's light winked out. His holographic face was alight with pure scientific fervor. "Outstanding! The data is exceptional! Susan, the luminescent retention within the uterine cavity post-ejaculation is unlike anything in the literature! And the adaptive viscosity… Ron, your physiology continues to astound. Susan, vitals?”
Sue, her face buried in my shoulder, muffled a response. "Alive... Filled... Glowing..." She lifted her head slightly, looking dazedly at the shimmering trail on her leg, then back towards the hologram. "Reed... it... it merged. Felt it… integrating… like it was bonding." Her eyes, wide and slightly unfocused, met mine. "It's still… moving inside me."
Sue trembled against my chest, her voice thick with wonder and exhaustion. "It's still… moving inside me." Her skin felt fever-hot, radiating the internal glow trapped within her womb. The couch beneath us was already a mess, dark leather slick and shimmering with luminous overflow, the thick fluid pooling and dripping onto the floor.
"THANKS FOR HELPING OUT AGAIN," Reed chirped suddenly, his voice tinny and bright through the drone’s speaker, making Sue flinch. "I TRUST YOU TO TAKE GOOD CARE OF SUE. I'LL GIVE YOU SOME PRIVACY." The blue light on the drone winked out abruptly, plunging the room back into the soft ambient glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. The silence felt heavy, intimate, broken only by Sue’s ragged breathing and the faint, wet sounds coming from between her legs.
SUE LAY ON TOP OF ME, MY LUMINESCENT FLUID RUNNING OUT OF HER ALL OVER MY COUCH. It wasn’t a trickle anymore; it was a slow, steady seep, thick and glowing, tracing paths across my stomach, soaking into the upholstery. Her inner muscles gave another weak, involuntary pulse against nothing, squeezing out another small gush that warmed my skin. "Shh, easy," I murmured, feeling the sheer weight of her exhaustion. "Just breathe."
"SHOWER TIME," I COMMANDED, shifting beneath her carefully. My arms slid under her knees and around her back, muscles flexing easily despite my own spent state. LIFTING HER UP AND CRADLING HER IN MY ARMS, I stood. She felt insubstantial, boneless, yet radiating an unnatural heat. Her head lolled against my shoulder, blonde hair plastered to her damp forehead. A choked gasp escaped her as the movement shifted the heavy, radiant mass inside her, triggering another wave of contractions.
"Ron... feels like... lava," she mumbled, her eyes half-closed, fingers weakly clutching my bicep. The glow pulsed stronger beneath the skin of her lower belly, visible even without her transparency, a captive sun illuminating her from within. More luminescent fluid escaped, dripping steadily onto the polished concrete floor as I carried her towards the ensuite bathroom, leaving a faintly glowing trail. Her body shuddered in my arms, not just from the cool air, but from the relentless, deep internal churning.
Her body shuddered in my arms, not just from the cool air, but from the relentless, deep internal churning. Each step towards the bathroom triggered another low groan from her, her inner muscles squeezing instinctively against the impossible, glowing volume trapped within her womb. "Easy, Sue," I murmured again, my voice rough, feeling the sheer heat radiating from her core through her skin against my chest. "Almost there."
The bathroom air was cooler still, tiles gleaming under the recessed lights. I lowered her feet to the floor beside the deep soaking tub, but her legs buckled instantly, barely holding her weight. Her hand clamped onto my arm, knuckles white. "Can't... stand," she gasped, her eyes wide and unfocused, another tremor wracking her frame. "Ron, it's... pulsing. Like it's alive in there."
I PROPPED HER UP ON THE EDGE OF THE TUB, LEANING HER BACK AGAINST THE WALL. The cool porcelain seemed to startle her for a second. She let out a shuddering breath, her head lolling back, exposing the long line of her throat. Her inner thighs glistened, slick with the luminous overflow tracing paths towards her knees. I CLIMBED CAREFULLY BETWEEN HER LEGS, the space cramped but necessary. Her exhausted gaze met mine, a flicker of understanding and something else – raw need, maybe fear. "THIS TIME, I'LL USE MY MOUTH."
Sue's response was a broken moan, half relief, half desperation. "Y-yes... please..." She drew her knees higher, planting her feet flat on the tub's edge. SUE, EXHAUSTED, MOANS AND SPREADS HER LEAKING SEX OPEN, a deliberate, trembling movement. The sight was devastating: swollen folds, flushed deep crimson, slick and utterly exposed. Thick, glowing rivulets pulsed steadily from her core, pooling on the white porcelain. The internal light cast an eerie, golden halo beneath the skin of her lower abdomen, shifting and swirling with the deep contractions that visibly clenched her belly.
"Just let it happen," I said, my voice low against her heated skin. I didn't hesitate. My hands settled on her trembling thighs, holding them gently apart but firmly anchored. Then I lowered my head. The scent was overwhelming – her arousal, sharp and musky, mingling with the almost ozone-like tang of my own unique emission. The first touch of my tongue was a broad, slow stroke, bottom to top, gathering the thick, viscous fluid leaking from her.
"Fuck!" The cry ripped from her, high and startled. Her hips jerked involuntarily. "Oh god, Ron...!" Her hand flew to my hair, fingers tangling, not pushing away but anchoring herself. The taste flooded my senses: salt, heat, and that strange, electric undertone unique to my biology, intensified by its journey inside her. It was thick, coating my tongue. Another pulse surged from her depths, a warm gush that spilled over my lips and chin. I lapped at it hungrily, focused on the source – the swollen bud of her clitoris, throbbing violently under the hood.
My tongue circled it, firm and deliberate, then flattened against it, applying steady pressure. Sue arched off the wall, a strangled gasp escaping her. "Yes! There! Oh god, right... there!" Her thighs clamped against my ears, the muscles quivering. I felt the deep, rhythmic clenching inside her intensify, a counterpoint to the frantic pulse under my tongue. The luminous fluid flowed freely now, a steady stream warmed by her body, mixed with her own slickness. I drank it, licked it, consumed the tangible evidence of our joining. Her cries escalated, sharp pants and fragmented pleas. "Don't stop! Please! It's... I can feel it... inside... and out... Ron!"
Her orgasm hit like a detonation. Her entire body bowed, rigid against the wall, a primal scream tearing from her throat. Her hand in my hair became a vise. Her inner walls spasmed powerfully around nothing, milking out another thick surge of glowing fluid that flooded my mouth. The light beneath her skin flared brilliantly, illuminating the tendons straining in her neck, the sweat-slicked curve of her breast. The contractions wracked her, wave after violent wave, her hips grinding helplessly against my mouth. I kept my tongue relentlessly on her clit, riding each convulsion, feeling the hot, radiant tide flow over me. She shuddered, gasping, collapsing back against the wall like a puppet with cut strings, her chest heaving. A low, continuous moan vibrated in her chest. The outflow slowed but didn't cease, a thick, golden trickle. Her eyes were glazed, unfocused, staring blindly at the ceiling. Her hand loosened in my hair, falling limply to her side. She looked utterly ravaged, emptied, yet the internal glow persisted, a low, persistent simmer deep within her. The deep churning inside her womb seemed... quieter now, momentarily subdued, but the sheer volume remained, a heavy, radiant presence. She blinked slowly, her lips parted, drawing in ragged breaths. Her gaze finally drifted down to meet mine. A tremor, deeper and slower than the frantic spasms before, rolled through her abdomen, making her flinch. Her voice, when it came, was a shattered whisper. "It... settled. But it’s still... full. So full." Her hand drifted unconsciously to her lower belly, fingers splaying over the softly glowing skin. "Ron... what is it doing?"
The taste of her, sharp and electric, still coated my tongue as I pulled back slightly, watching the thick, luminous fluid slowly seep from her. "What's it doing?" Sue whispered again, her voice thin with exhaustion and a dawning, unfamiliar apprehension. Her hand pressed harder against the faintly glowing swell low in her belly, the skin taut and hot beneath her trembling fingers.
"Reed called it 'integration'," I murmured, rising to my knees before her on the cool tile. Water droplets from the showerhead I'd turned on moments ago spattered my shoulders. "Said it looked like bonding." I traced the curve of her hip, feeling the deep, slow churn beneath. It wasn't violent anymore, but powerful, deliberate. "Does it hurt?"
"Not... hurt," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "Pressure. Deep pressure. Heavy." A shiver racked her, unrelated to the room's chill. "Warm. Too warm. Like... like it's working." Her eyes snapped open, wide and searching. "Working on what, Ron?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, gorgeous," I said, trying for lightness that fell flat. The sight of her, utterly spent yet visibly altered, unnerved me too. The science was Reed's domain; right now, she needed grounding. "Let's get you clean." I reached for the detachable showerhead, adjusting the spray to a warm, gentle pulse. "Can you stand?"
She nodded weakly, bracing her hands on the tub edge. I helped her rise, her legs trembling. The movement triggered another internal shift; a low groan escaped her lips as the glowing mass seemed to settle deeper, heavier. Rivulets of luminous gold traced fresh paths down her inner thighs, mixing with the water swirling at our feet. Her skin, flushed everywhere, seemed to hold an internal furnace where my seed pooled.
The warm water sluiced over her, washing away the external evidence but doing nothing for the radiant presence within. She leaned heavily against the tiled wall, head bowed, breathing shallowly. "Feels... different," she managed between breaths. "Not just volume. It's... active." Her hand drifted back to her lower abdomen, fingers splaying. "Pulsing. Like a slow heartbeat. But it's mine." She looked up, confusion warring with a strange, primal awe in her eyes. "Ron... it feels like it's... knitting itself in."
The implications hung heavy in the steamy air. Reed's detached fascination suddenly felt inadequate. This was visceral, intimate, happening deep inside her. I guided her under the spray, letting the water cascade over her hair, down her back. She flinched as the stream hit her sensitive, swollen folds. "Easy," I soothed, angling the spray away. Her clitoris, still engorged and throbbing a deep crimson, peeked from beneath its hood. Residual tremors, aftershocks of her recent climax, made her thighs quiver against my hand where I steadied her hip.
The luminous seep hadn't stopped, just slowed to a thick ooze, glowing faintly against her flushed skin before the water diluted it. The sheer, impossible presence inside her radiated a palpable heat I could feel even through the steam. Her breaths hitched. "Can't... it's too... concentrated," she gasped, pushing weakly against my arm. "Stings... burns a little... deep inside." Panic flickered in her exhaustion-glazed eyes. "Get it out... please..."
I shut off the water. The sudden silence was broken only by the drip from the showerhead and Sue's ragged breathing. Her skin, slick and steaming, glowed unnaturally from within her lower belly. The pressure, the heat, the alien sensation of something actively embedding itself within her – it had pushed past scientific curiosity into raw, physical distress. She needed relief, fast. "Okay, Sue," I said, my voice low and certain. Gently, I eased her back down onto the tub's edge. Her legs fell open, utterly pliant. The source of her distress was starkly visible: swollen, flushed, glistening, the luminous fluid welling persistently despite the shower. The internal glow pulsed, a visible throb beneath her skin.
"THIS TIME I NEED YOU TO PUSH, SUE," I whispered to her gently, carefully sliding two fingers inside her grasping hole as I gently lapped at her clitoris.