τερατοφιλία.

It was the best sex he'd ever had, and that wasn't just because of his affection for her. It really was that good. Careful to remain inside of her until they moved to clean up, Peter's arms wrapped around Isabelle where she laid, exhausted from the workout. "Isabelle. You were the one, all that time..." He didn't feel the need to elaborate. "I'm never letting you go again."

When he thrusts up into her with such rigour, Isabelle only needs a few moments before her climax rips through her makes her whole body seize up - just in time for Peter to have his own, the added squeeze around him only serving to drain him more thoroughly. "Oh- oh!" She simply enjoys the prolonged sensation, grasping his chest and closing her eyes as she rides them both through it, then finally she's spent. She can only slump over onto him and place a weak kiss against his lips before she turns into a human ragdoll. "That was amazing..."

The shift in his demeanor is not lost on Isabelle, and once she gets into position - namely, straddling his thighs, she looks at him with care and concern. "Hey... it's okay..." Reaching out, she gently takes the shirt away, studying his form afterward with nothing but fascination. "I want you. All of you." With that she lines him up and sinks onto his cock, beginning the process of riding him, tossing her head back to breathe, hair cascading down her back. She squeezes her breasts before placing both palms against his abdomen, slowly stroking her way up. "I-I'm close..."

The way he calls out her name is like recognition, a greeting - from his other self that couldn't speak. A word that tells her everything. She can't go into further detail though, because his thrusts, even more powerful than last time, are so hard they take her breath away, until she can only utter a series of whines, moans, and 'oh's. He holds her close and her right hand brushes through his dark hair while the left glides down his body to squeeze his ass and encourage him not to stop. Until she changes her mind. "P-Peter...?" she manages to speak up, although it's quiet. Once she has his attention she carefully pushes his chest to make him lay back this time.

He was on autopilot as soon as the blonde laid back, and he covered her body with his own - another familiar sensation. Peter placed a hand under one of Isabelle's thighs and wrapped it around his hip, unable to stop kissing her. He had forgotten all about his hang-ups where his scarring and markings were concerned and without a care he aided in the removal of his shirt, closely followed by unbuckling his belt and taking down his pants. Unable to take the strain and wait, he also lowered his boxers so he could release his positively aching cock, which settled against Isabelle's groin. Remaining clothing tossed aside, he melted against her body, skin against skin.

When Peter seems to be as keen - and almost as fast - to get naked as she does, a wave of euphoria travels through her whole body. She feels safe with him atop of her, and her walls flutter and she grows more slick with arousal when his length rests against her. Again... it's familiar. "Please..." she whispers upon breaking the kiss, gaze fixed upon him as she reaches down between their bodies, stroking him in her palm for a moment before finally guiding him into her, a loud gasp following at the intense sensation. It is him. She knows for sure now.

That sound. He had heard that before, he was sure of it. No time to think about how though because suddenly Isabelle was not kissing him anymore, the dress was gone... and he was staring at her completely naked form. That was it - Peter practically pounced on her, grabbing the back of her head and kissing her again. Using his torso he pressed against her until she laid back on the couch, his erection so hard it was starting to cause him pain. "So... beautiful..." he managed to say between intense kisses.

Is she really going to let this blossom as far as it probably will go tonight? Yes, she decides. It's not her usual kind of thing, but there's just something about him. Maybe she'll regret it come tomorrow, but that's a problem for then. His firm upper body against hers is a turn on, and Isabelle lays back willingly, thighs parting so he can lay atop of her. Their breaths are heavy and rapid in the silence of the room and she begins fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, switching to his pants once she's done; making her willingness to do this very clear.

He's a good kisser, Isabelle thinks as their mouths slowly massage. It turns more and more intense the longer they go on, though, and that butterfly feeling intensifies as he puts his hands on her, and once again there's a brief flashback. A room of zombies. Being carried away from them to safety. The memory rushing back of what happened before that makes her softly whine into the kiss, and as she feels him grasping at her dress, she simply breaks the kiss to tug it off over her head. And, surprise: she'd chosen to wear nothing underneath it at all.

At this point, she has stopped wondering if he is 'him' or not, and decided she simply likes him no matter what. Asking him that question made her feel vulnerable, but in a way she had recently discovered she secretly likes. It was worth asking, too, because her heart races as Peter moves closer and touches her face so gently it makes her almost ache. She draws in a short breath, sinking into the moment wholly. Without a response except for the flushing of her cheeks in the dim light, she shuffles a little closer, her eyes drifting to his lips. Closer, closer... and finally they're kissing.

Her voice also sounded familiar, but he still couldn't place where or why. She looked confused and he began to regret the decision. "Sorry, you just look so familiar." Not wanting to keep repeating himself but also feeling like he wasn't supposed to just end it here, Peter pushed a little further. "Listen, I don't normally do this, but would you be interested in having dinner with me? I can cook for us. Oh-" He offered a hand in greeting. "I'm Peter."

Peter. It has to be him! But how? Maybe he just looks like the guy in the photo at the lab. People can look similar, can't they? She lets it go again, pushing away that strange feeling. It becomes much easier to do when he asks her out, making her beam brightly. There's some unwritten rule about not appearing too eager, but she forgets it at this moment. "...Sure. I'd love to." She takes his hand, ignoring the sheer electricity that seems to pass between them. "Isabelle. Nice to meet you."

His voice. If this is really him, she's hearing a voice she never thought she'd hear. Seeing a face she never thought she'd see. It can't be real. It just can't. When he asks that question, Isabelle tries to look innocent and even puzzled, shaking her head slowly. What is she supposed to say without sounding crazy? "I don't think so...?" She glances down at his body to see if there's a name tag or if he's holding a cup or anything with his name on, but nothing. He's handsome.

When he entered her and he felt the familiar slick of arousal coating his length, he went wild inside. Due to his altered state, he couldn't play games or pretend anything. Every movement and reaction was real and genuine. It was strange how he finally got to have the one thing hardwired into his DNA and yet it only made him even more desperate and crave more of it. Her pussy was making him weak at the knees and in the heat of their sex he lifted her close and laid her down on the floor, draping himself on her like a blanket, and continued his long and hard thrusts. Soon, he was going to reach that pleasure peak and fill her. Soon.