Chapter 2: Learning Each Other From the Inside
Jake's fingers circled clumsily over her clit, too fast, too hard, and Emily watched from across the room as her own body bucked and jolted with every clumsy stroke. The faces he made with her face were fascinating. Confusion, shock, pleasure all fighting for space.
"You're going to hurt yourself," she said, crossing the floor in Jake's long stride. "Slower."
"I don't know what I'm doing." Her voice cracked on the words, breathless.
"Obviously." Emily caught his wrist and drew his hand away from her cunt. Her own fingers were slick and shining, and Jake stared at them with wide, horrified fascination. "Here. Watch." She pressed his hand back down, adjusting his fingers with hers, guiding two of them through the wet folds to the small swollen bud beneath its hood. "Soft. Little circles. Like you're very gently trying to drive me insane."
He obeyed, and this time the sound that came out of her mouth was a low, shuddering moan instead of a yelp. Emily felt Jake's whole body respond to it, a pulse of heat flooding through the borrowed cock, which was already hard and aching against the thin pajama pants. She glanced down at herself. At him. At the obvious, insistent shape of it.
"Huh," she said.
"What?" Jake gasped, fingers still working the rhythm she'd set.
"Your body really likes making me come."
Emily pushed his hand aside and knelt on the bed beside him. The weight of Jake's arousal sat heavy and urgent between her legs, a throbbing pull that demanded things, and she understood now why he was always so eager in the mornings. She wrapped his own hand around the hard length of his cock through the fabric and squeezed, and the sensation punched the air out of her lungs.
"Oh, fuck," she groaned in his voice, low and guttural. "Oh, that's what you get."
"Right?" Jake panted, propped up on her elbows, watching her with her own green eyes gone dark and hazy. "It's like a hunger. It doesn't stop."
She shoved the pajama pants down. Jake's cock sprang free, thick and flushed, and Emily stared at it for a long moment with something between curiosity and greed. Then she wrapped his fist around it properly and stroked, slow, from base to crown, and the pleasure that unspooled through her was nothing like the sharp electric beads of her own body. It was deep. Rolling. A whole-body ache that built like a wave gathering height.
"Jesus," she breathed, thumbing over the slick head. A bead of fluid welled there and she spread it with her thumb, and Jake-in-her-body made a sound she'd never heard her own voice make, a helpless, throaty whimper.
"Okay," Jake said, staring at his own cock in her hand with something like reverence. "Okay, I need to try that on you later."
"You're literally already touching my pussy."
"Not the same thing and you know it."
She laughed, and the laugh broke into a groan halfway through because her hand had found a rhythm now and the pleasure was tightening at the base of Jake's spine, coiling, gathering. She understood suddenly and completely why Jake's eyes always rolled back. It built from somewhere deep, a pressure like a dam filling, and it was enormous.
"Em." Jake's hand slid down her flat stomach, over the soft curve of her breast, and he crowded closer on his knees beside her. "Em, look at us."
She looked. His hand and hers, both working. Her body's fingers buried in a cunt that was hers and not hers. His cock, her cock now, hard and leaking in a grip that was his and not his. The absurdity of it made her laugh again, and the laugh and the pleasure tangled together into something giddy and reckless.
"Come here," she said, and pulled him.
They ended up tangled in the middle of the king bed, mouths finding each other, kissing with her lips against his mouth and his tongue against her tongue and none of it making any sense at all. Jake's hand pressed flat over his own chest, over his own heartbeat hammering under Emily's ribs, and Emily kissed the soft skin of her own throat and tasted herself, tasted faint salt and the lingering ghost of Jake's body wash.
"I want to try something," Jake murmured against his own lips. "I know this body. What it likes. Let me show you."
He rolled Emily onto her back, her strong shoulders pressing into the mattress, and swung himself over. He pulled the tank top off, her hair spilling everywhere, and then he took his own cock in his small, delicate hand and guided it against the entrance of her cunt, the cock he'd lived inside for twenty-four years pressing against a body he'd learned by feel since last night.
"Can I?" he asked, and his voice was hers, breathless and a little wicked.
Emily flexed her hands on his hips, his hips under her hands, the strength of Jake's arms turning him slightly so she could feel how effortlessly she could move him, and that made her crazy, made her pulse throb hard enough that she felt it in the slick heat of her own cunt.
"Yeah," she said. "Do it. Fuck me with my own..."
He pushed in.
The stretch was immense. Emily's head fell back into the pillow and she made a sound she had never made in her life, some deep raw noise from Jake's chest, because her cunt was clenching around the cock that belonged to these very hips, and the feedback loop of it, the perfect strange symmetry, shorted out every thought she had. Jake's face above her, her face above her, went slack with the same shock.
"Oh my god," Jake whispered. "I can feel both ends. Em, I can feel both."
"Move," she demanded, gripping his ass with both hands, Jake's strong hands on Jake's ass, pulling him deeper. "Move, please, move."
He did. Slow at first, dragging almost all the way out, and every inch of it was a revelation in two directions at once. Emily felt the deep rolling fullness, the cock sliding against the front wall of her cunt where a hard, swollen spot of nerves waited, and Jake felt the tight clasp of the body he now wore, felt Emily's toned stomach pressed to his, felt his own cock sinking into a woman and the woman was him.
Emily reached between them and found her own clit, swollen and throbbing where it rubbed against the base of his cock with every thrust, and rubbed, and the dual sensation of being filled and filling herself hit her like a fist.
"Holy shit, holy shit," she chanted, hips snapping up to meet him, stronger than she'd ever been able to move in her own body, driving him deeper. "Jake. Jake, don't stop."
"Not stopping," he gasped, sweat breaking out along her hairline, red hair stuck to his forehead. "God, Em, you're so tight, I never..."
"Never what?"
"I never felt you this clearly." He thrust harder, finding a rhythm, and her voice and his voice broke together, hers from his throat, his from hers. "You feel incredible."
She pulled him down and kissed him, messy and panting, and the room filled with the sound of skin and wet heat and two voices, hers and his, moaning in each other's mouths.