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My brain went blank instantly, and all reserve and hesitation were completely crushed by this astonishing scene.
I couldn't hold back anymore!
My body's instinct drove me; I adjusted my posture, grasped my already hard and scorching desire, and aimed it at the moist, muddy entrance she had opened with her own hands.
Taking a deep breath, I thrust my waist!
Almost without any obstruction!
The scorching hardness slid into that warm, tight, and abnormally moist and slippery tunnel.
The insertion process was exceptionally smooth; her abundant love liquid provided perfect lubrication, swallowing me completely and without reservation.
It was an indescribable, ultimate pleasure of being tightly wrapped and adsorbed—warm, humid, soft, and full of elasticity.
I felt the soft and elastic barrier at the very depths of the tunnel almost instantly.
Inserted to the hilt, perfectly fitting, hitting the very bottom.
A satisfied sigh spilled from both our lips simultaneously.
Kafka's tunnel did indeed not have the kind of nearly raw ultimate tightness that Ruan Mei or Herta's had.
There was no barrier symbolizing the first time that required force to break through.
But this didn't mean it was loose; on the contrary, it was an entirely different experience.
Her interior was warm, moist, and... as if tailor-made for me.
My size fit perfectly with her tunnel, fitting tightly, almost feeling no gaps.
As I inserted to the hilt, I could clearly feel even pressure and wrapping from the base to the tip.
This omnidirectional, full sense of contact brought a unique, marrow-deep stimulation, entirely different from the experience brought by the previous two, yet not inferior, one could even say it had its own flavor.
However, that smooth entry also silently proved a fact—Kafka was not a virgin.
A trace of imperceptible loss rippled in the bottom of my heart like a small stone thrown into a lake.
Although reason told me this was entirely expected.
It was only natural for a woman as charming, mature, and mysterious as Kafka, who traveled between stars and had experienced countless storms, to have had past emotional or sexual partners.
Demanding her to be a blank slate was an unrealistic fantasy.
But even so, I couldn't help but feel a tiny... little bit of regret.
Immediately following, a thought uncontrollably intruded into my mind: Who could it have been? Who had possessed her? Who had, just like me at this moment, penetrated this mysterious and alluring domain?
My thoughts involuntarily drifted toward that silent figure who was always inseparable from her.
Could it be... Blade?
They were both Stellaron Hunters, their relationship seeming far beyond that of ordinary companions; the kind of complex and profound bond was hard for others to fathom.
Thinking of that man, always covered in scars and fierce hostility, who had also possessed Kafka, who was currently wavering and yielding joyfully under me... an inexplicable emotion mixed with jealousy and possessiveness grew quietly.
Just as the inexplicable jealousy and possessiveness grew in my heart, Kafka beneath me seemed to truly possess the ability to read minds, precisely capturing my fleeting thought.
She adjusted her posture slightly, looped her arms around my neck, and pulled me slightly lower, making the distance between us tighter.
Her warm breath brushed against my ear, carrying a lazy smile, her voice low and bewitching:
"Mm? Are you actually jealous of Ah-Ren?" Her tone carried a bit of teasing, and a trace of imperceptible indulgence. "You are truly cute, my little Trailblazer."
Her fingers gently stroked the back of my neck, bringing a tingle of itchiness.
"However," she paused, her tone becoming a bit more serious, her purple eyes looking directly into my eyes, containing some kind of promise, "you don't have to worry. There's no one else. Kafka... from beginning to end, has only belonged to you."
Only belonged to me? What did that mean? Could it be...
Before I could think clearly, she continued, seemingly to dispel my doubts:
"As for Ah-Ren." Her voice carried a trace of matter-of-fact calmness. "He lost the ability to reproduce as an ordinary living being long ago, after obtaining that 'immortal' curse. The kind of thing you're worried about could never happen between us."
Immortal... lost reproductive ability... so that's how it was.
This explanation was reasonable, instantly dispelling my doubts about Blade.
But at the same time, a greater doubt arose in my heart: Since it wasn't Blade, and there was no one else, then she...
Kafka looked at the confusion that emerged in my eyes again, and a more mysterious smile appeared on her face.
She didn't answer directly, but instead stretched out a hand and gracefully picked up the small mobile terminal on the bedside table.
Her fingertips tapped a few times on the screen, then she turned the screen toward me.
"Look at this, and you'll understand."
My gaze fell on the illuminated screen.
A video started playing on it.
The footage seemed to be from some years ago, the color tone slightly old, but the content was clear enough to make me stop breathing instantly, my heart pounding madly!
In the footage, it was in a room that looked somewhat unfamiliar.
A man was leaning over a woman, engaged in the most primitive, most intense taking.
His movements were filled with greed and possessiveness; sweat soaked his hair and drenched the woman's skin beneath him.
And that man... that man...
Actually looked exactly like me!
Whether it was the contours of his features, his hairstyle, or hair color, or even the trace of confusion and inquiry that occasionally flashed in his eyes, it was identical to mine!
And the woman beneath him, without a doubt, was Kafka!
Only, the Kafka in the picture looked somewhat younger than she did now.
Although still breathtakingly beautiful, the mystery and composure she possessed now seemed to be lacking, replaced by a bit of youthful, dazed passion.
Her face was flushed with an unnatural red, and fragmented moans spilled from her mouth, her hands gripping tightly onto what seemed to be the bedsheets beneath her.
What shocked me even more was that at the place where their bodies were tightly joined, at the connection symbolizing the primitive collision... I clearly saw strands and threads of bright red blood slowly flowing down the inner side of her fair thighs!
That eye-catching red silently spoke of a fact—
This was Kafka's first time!