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Seeing that I was still somewhat stunned, Kafka's lips curled into a more moving arc.
She tilted her head slightly, her purple ponytail swaying with it, and gave me a wink that would make any man's heart race.
"Well, still don't believe it?" Her voice carried a trace of languid playfulness.
Immediately after, I felt the warm tunnel that tightly wrapped me beneath me suddenly send out a clear, rhythmic contraction!
The feeling was like her using the softest muscles inside her body to give me a silent reminder and confirmation, wave after wave of squeezing sensation darting straight into my brain along my nerve endings, bringing forth waves of indescribable tingle and pleasure.
Indeed... even if that recording could be faked, even if the story she told was unbelievable, the feeling of tight-fitting, ultimate perfection between our bodies at this moment absolutely could not be faked!
This feeling of being born to be joined together strongly verified her words.
My heart gave a violent jolt, and a surge of indescribable heartache and pity welled up.
She... in order to wait for me, in order to wait for this moment of "continuing our past relationship," actually waited alone for so long, experienced so much... and I, had forgotten everything about the past.
Any more words seemed pale and powerless at this moment.
I bowed my head violently, using an even deeper, hotter kiss to block the lips she still wanted to tease with.
This kiss was no longer tentative, no longer a simple vent of desire, but filled with remorse, heartache, the ecstasy of regained loss, and a silent response to her long wait.
Kafka seemed to feel the complex emotions in my kiss as well; she responded enthusiastically, her arms hugging me tighter, as if to knead me into her body.
This kiss ignited all the pent-up emotions and desires.
For the time that followed, we completely sank into the most primitive passion.
In the bedroom, there was nothing but our heavy breathing, the sticky sound of skin rubbing, and Kafka's moving moans that were sometimes suppressed and sometimes indulgent.
We demanded from each other madly, as if to make up for all the time we had missed in the past, all in this one night.
We tried many postures, from the classic male-on-top, to her straddling me and actively controlling the rhythm, to picking her up and letting her legs wrap around my waist... every insertion, every collision, was accompanied by ultimate pleasure and resonance of the soul.
Kafka showed me an unprecedented degree of tolerance and obedience.
No matter what slightly excessive demands I made, or what somewhat rough actions I made unconsciously when moved by passion, she accepted them all, even actively guiding me, satisfying those unvoiced desires deep in my heart.
She did not stint on pleasing me with her perfect body.
Whether it was clamping my burning heat with those full, soft snowy peaks, feeling the special pleasure brought by the astonishing elasticity and delicate friction; or... when I made that somewhat unspeakable request, she just smiled bewitchingly and leaned down without hesitation, using her warm, moist oral cavity and that incredibly nimble, skillful tongue to bring me ultimate enjoyment that felt like soaring to the heavens!
I must say, Kafka's oral technique was artist-level skillful!
That warm, moist, sometimes swallowing and sometimes licking, sometimes gently scraping with teeth complex stimulation, even once made me feel more comfortable than directly inserting into her vagina, even more crazy!
It's truly a pity... that I lost all the memories of being with her, those memories that might have been equally full of passion and sweetness. Being unable to recall her initial youthfulness, unable to recall the tacit understanding and tenderness we once had, and only being able to experience her beauty at this very moment, left me with full of regrets in my heart.
This night, we seemed tireless.
I don't know how many times I released myself in her warm, tight body, and I don't know how many times her moving moans and body trembling represented ultimate orgasms.
Sweat soaked the bedsheets, and also soaked our tightly intertwined bodies.
The air was filled with the rich scent of sweat and love liquid.
Until the very end, we both exhausted our last bit of strength.
I lay exhaustedly on her body, burying my cheeks between her soft breasts, feeling her steadying heartbeat and warm body temperature.
Kafka was also too tired to speak, just gently hugging me with her arms, her fingers gently stroking my hair.
In this ultimate intimacy and exhaustion, I finally couldn't resist the heavy sleepiness, and fell into a deep sleep in her warm and secure embrace.
This was the most peaceful and indulgent sleep I had had since arriving at this villa.
The days that followed seemed to sink into a bizarre yet incomparably sweet dream.
This was probably the happiest and most... intoxicating period I had spent since embarking on the journey of Trailblazing—no, one could even say in the life I "had memories of."
This was entirely different from my previous experiences with Ruan Mei and Herta.
Ruan Mei's gentleness carried a researcher's detachment; our intimacy was more like a goal-oriented experiment, even if there was tenderness, it was separated by an invisible thin veil.
Herta was even more direct, her curiosity and thirst for knowledge driving everything; "testing" and "data" were the core, passion was more like a byproduct of verifying conjectures, carrying a rational frenzy.
But Kafka was different.
The astonishing "tolerance" she displayed gave me an unprecedented, nearly real experience of "married life."
She seemed to take satisfying me and keeping me company for granted, even enjoying it, as if this was the most important part of her "script" itself, and also her heartfelt choice.