Chapter 2: The Confirmation

Three weeks had melted into a feverish, insatiable blur inside the Thompson home on Elmwood Lane. The crisp October air rolling down from the Bardulf Peaks carried the faint scent of turning leaves and woodsmoke through the cracked windows of Westview, but it did nothing to temper the furnace that now burned constantly between Rick and Nina. The house itself had been quietly repaired—furniture righted with careful hands, shattered plates replaced from Vargen’s Market, slashed couch cushions patched or swapped out entirely—but the real reconstruction happened beneath the surface. Their bond, once laced with unspoken tension and stolen glances, had twisted into something primal, unbreakable, and utterly consuming.

Rick, at seventeen, had become a force of nature. His lean, brutally ripped body—every ridge of abs, every corded muscle in his arms and back honed from dawn track sessions and late-night sessions at The Axel Rod—was a constant, possessive presence against Nina’s softer curves. He took her relentlessly, multiple times a day, whenever the hunger struck. Over the kitchen island while breakfast eggs sizzled forgotten on the stove, he’d bend her forward, shorts yanked to her ankles, and fuck her with long, punishing strokes until she was clawing the granite and whimpering his name. On lazy afternoons sprawled across the living-room couch—the same one still faintly stained from that first night—he’d pull her onto his lap, facing away, and let her ride him slow and deep while sunlight slanted through the blinds and painted golden stripes across her bouncing tits. At night, in the steam-filled shower, he’d pin her against the cool tile wall, legs hooked over his forearms, and pound into her until the water ran cold and her screams echoed off the porcelain.

Each time ended the same: Rick buried to the hilt, balls mashed tight against her, roaring low and feral as he flooded her womb with thick, hot ropes of cum. Load after heavy load—sometimes three, four times in a single session—until her pussy overflowed, creamy white trails leaking down her inner thighs no matter how tightly she clenched to keep it inside. Nina glowed with it, skin radiant, eyes brighter, a new softness to her curves that hadn’t been there before. Her surgically enhanced breasts bounced heavily with every thrust, nipples perpetually swollen and dark from his constant attention—pinching, twisting, sucking until they ached deliciously. Her hungry cunt milked him dry every single time, walls fluttering and spasming like they were trying to pull every last drop deeper.