My cock throbs painfully, straining against my zipper to be set free. To rut her.
I watch, mesmerized, as a fresh droplet of slick forms in her pussy before slowly trailing down her inner thigh, joining the mess already there. Her pussy clenches again, the inner muscles contracting visibly around emptiness, seeking something to grip, to milk.
This is why omegas are so perfect, so necessary for a pack.
Their bodies are designed to accommodate multiple alphas, to take knot after knot during their heats, to be filled and bred. And Francine’s body is responding to me as if she were made for me. Her omega biology recognizes something in my alpha scent that calls to her on a primal level.
She wants me.
But with a shaking hand, I retrieve the ben wa balls from where I set them on top of the dresser. The steel spheres are cool against my palm, heavy and smooth. I bring them to her pussy, rubbing them through her wet folds, coating them in her abundant slick.
“Do you feel that?” I ask, circling her swollen clit with the metal spheres.
“Y-yes,” she gasps, her hips jerking at the contact.
Her reaction sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. I want to see her come and fall apart under my touch as she’s overcome with waves of pleasure. After she feels the toy inside of her all day, she’ll be crawling into my room wanting my knot.
“I’m going to put them inside you now,” I tell her, positioning the first ball at her entrance. “Try to relax.”
She nods, her breathing quickening with anticipation. I apply gentle pressure, watching as her pussy begins to accept the toy. Her pussy walls stretch around the metal ball, sucking greedily.
But suddenly there’s a barrier. And at the same moment, Francine lets out a small cry of pain, her body tensing.
I withdraw the toy immediately, alarm replacing desire. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
She straightens slightly, looking back at me over her shoulder. Her face is flushed, eyes wide and uncertain.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I don’t think I can.”
The pieces suddenly fall into place. The resistance I felt, her nervous behavior, the sharp intake of breath.
“Francine,” I say slowly. “Are you a virgin?”
“Yes,” she replies, biting her lip and looking away from me.
The confirmation sends conflicting emotions surging through me. On one hand, anger at myself for potentially hurting her, for not asking before attempting to penetrate her. On the other hand, a primitive, possessive satisfaction that no alpha has claimed her, that her body remains untouched.
“Why didn’t you say something?” I ask, setting the toy aside and gently helping her pull her underwear and stockings back into place.
She straightens fully now, adjusting her dress to cover herself again.
“I didn’t think about it,” she admits, her voice small. “I got caught up in the moment, in how good it felt. I wanted to know what it would be like.”
The admission sends a fresh surge of arousal through me, but I suppress it. This changes everything. Her virginity is precious, something to be cherished and respected, not taken casually as part of some “research experiment” with sex toys.
“I’m so sorry if I hurt you,” I say, touching her back gently, a gesture of comfort rather than desire.
She shakes her head quickly. “You didn’t. Not really. It just... surprised me.”
I can tell she’s embarrassed, her earlier confidence replaced by uncertainty. She’s avoiding my gaze now, her focus on smoothing down her dress and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Don’t apologize,” I assure her.
“I should go,” she says, stepping away from me. “I hope your hand feels better soon.”
Before I can respond, she’s moving toward the door, her steps quick and determined. She pauses at the threshold, glancing back at me.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” she says softly. “About... any of this.”
