Chapter 22: Proper Demonstration
Jade swung her legs off the bed, the sheets whispering against her skin. She padded over to the coat draped across Clara’s worn armchair, the one with the velvet upholstery that was fraying at the edges. Clara watched, propped on her elbows, the cool air of the room a sharp contrast to the warmth they’d generated. Jade’s hand disappeared into a deep inner pocket and emerged with a small, unassuming plastic bottle. It was the kind of thing you’d get from a pharmacy, plain orange with a white cap.
“That’s it?” Clara asked, her voice laced with a mix of disbelief and fascination. “It looks so… clinical.”
“Don’t let the packaging fool you,” Jade said with a slight, tense smile. She shook a single, chalky white pill into her palm. It was utterly nondescript. “The origins are a lot more interesting than the bottle.” She tossed the pill into her mouth and dry-swallowed with a practiced jerk of her head. The bottle went back into the coat pocket, a casual gesture that felt anything but.
“You just carry that around with you?” Clara couldn’t help the question. It seemed too potent, too significant, to be just another item in someone’s pocket, like keys or loose change.
Jade came back to the bed, her movements fluid. “A girl likes to be prepared for opportunities,” she said, her tone light, but her eyes were serious, watching Clara. “It takes about twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour.”
“So we just… wait?” Clara’s nerves were starting to hum, a low current of anticipation beneath her skin.
“We don’t just wait,” Jade murmured, settling beside her. Her hand, cool from the air, found the curve of Clara’s hip. “We get acquainted.”
Her touch was deliberate, mapping the territory of Clara’s body as if memorizing it. She leaned in, her long dark hair tickling Clara’s shoulder as her mouth found a breast. She wasn’t gentle; she took the soft, heavy weight in her hand and sucked the nipple deep, her tongue working with a focused intensity that made Clara gasp and arch off the mattress. It was a claiming, a distraction, a promise all at once.
While her mouth worked, her other hand slid between Clara’s thighs, which fell open for her without a thought. Clara was already slick, her body responding to the mere idea of what was coming. Jade’s fingers, clever and sure, stroked through the wetness, tracing her folds, circling her clit with a pressure that was just shy of enough.
“You’re so ready,” Jade breathed against her damp skin, her voice thick.
They moved like that for what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, a slow, building prelude. Clara lost herself in the sensation, in the taste of Jade’s skin and the sound of her own ragged breathing. But a part of her mind remained hyper-focused, a lookout waiting for a signal.
Then she felt it.
It was a subtle tension that rippled through Jade’s body, a hitch in her breath that wasn’t from pleasure. Jade stilled, her mouth pulling away from Clara’s breast. She looked down between their bodies, her expression a complex mix of awe and apprehension.
“It’s starting,” she whispered.
Clara followed her gaze. The change was not dramatic at first. It was a darkening of the flesh, a blush of deep burgundy spreading under the skin. The existing veins, already prominent, began to stand in sharper relief, like rivers swelling after a storm. Then came the pulse. A deep, visceral throb that was visible, a wave of expansion that made the entire shaft twitch.
Jade let out a shaky breath and shifted back, giving them both a view.
Clara’s own breath caught in her throat. It was a live process, a biology lesson in fast-forward. Each pulse brought a new, impossible dimension. The girth swelled, thickening in Clara’s hand until her fingers could no longer meet. The length increased in a steady, relentless push, the head growing broader and more defined. It was becoming less an organ and more a monolith, a piece of living architecture. The skin stretched taut, shining in the soft light, the network of veins now a roadmap of raw power.
Jade was watching her, not it. Her eyes were wide, searching Clara’s face for any sign of fear or revulsion. She found only rapt fascination.
“My god,” Clara breathed, her hand hovering, afraid to touch the transforming flesh. It was hot, radiating a feverish energy.
The growth seemed to slow, the pulses becoming more pronounced finales than continuous pushes. The sheer mass of it was staggering.
Jade’s voice was strained when she finally spoke. “See? More.”
Clara’s eyes travelled the impossible length, from the root to the head that now, undeniably, brushed against the base of her own sternum. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird in a cage. The lock and the key. The thought was no longer a metaphor. It was a physical, terrifying, exhilarating reality.
She reached out, her fingers finally making contact with the scorching skin. It was like touching lightning contained in flesh.
“Okay,” Clara said, her voice surprisingly steady. She met Jade’s anxious gaze and held it, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. “Now.”