After a good seven minutes of slowly spiralling closer and closer to the Space Needle, keeping Emma in sight most of the time, and at the end you manage a landing within ten yards of her, without having to pull the chute. Not necessarily graceful, but you stick it, you didn't hit any buildings, birds, or other aerial flotsam, and you're very close to tonight's particular object of desire. She whoops and hollers as she watches you land (just a few seconds after she does), and runs awkwardly toward you in her wingsuit.
The feeling of being a flying squirrel over Seattle is indescribable. The speed, the feeling of being almost naked, the wind all over my body. Exhilarating. This goes down as one of the wildest things I've ever done.
When I hit the ground, I let Emma come to me and work on the zippers of my suit. "Pretty sure we were spotted. We should move soon." I look around. Where did we end up?
You managed to land pretty close to the Needle itself, in one of the small green areas near the base. Emma hands you your shirt as both of you strip out of the suits. You get dressed quickly, bundle up the suits, and, I assume, take off running in some direction or other?
Emma's still laughing, delighted. "The question is," she manages breathlessly, "Your place or mine, cowboy?"
Flashing lights and sirens are approaching the Space Needle, by the way. You were right about being spotted.
Emma's place turns out to be pretty close. She's staying in an apartment-style suite at the Maxwell, a quirky but high-end place. Once you get there, she moves straight to the bar in the living room and pours you each a double from a bottle of high-end Suntory whiskey.
Moving over to hand you your drink, she stands very close and looks you in the eyes. "So, was that enough fun for one night, or do you have a little more in the tank?"
That's an invitation she knows you'll accept, but seems like she's curious how you'll proceed.
I take the tumbler, turn it up for a nicely-sized drink and hold the whiskey in my mouth. It's amazing what expensive whiskey tastes like if you're used to the cheap stuff. That normal "bubble" that people have with strangers has popped as Emma and I have spent the last few hours together. I like having her stand close like this.
Hell, I'd like to go on a run with her. But that's later, and probably a bad idea.
Speaking of bad ideas, I give her a smirk, "Oh, it's been enough fun in one night for most people. I'm not "most people", Emma." I close the distance, my left hand on her hip. I drink in her eyes for a long moment, "I like your place. Why don't you show me around?" I turn to take another drink, but don't break physical contact.
Emma leans in to speak softly in your ear. "Well, this is the living room, where we might enjoy heavy petting on that comfortable-looking sofa. In there is the kitchen, where we might grab a snack later and come up with creative uses for a kitchen counter. That way is the bedroom, where we're going to frag until we're sore and then maybe take a nap and do it again. And just off the bedroom is the luxurious bathroom, where we are going right now to shower off the dust and sweat." She winks slowly, then turns in the direction she indicated, calling over her shoulder. "Bring the bottle. There's a shelf in the shower."
My smirk grows into a wide grin when she conducts her tour, and I'm very, very interested in exploring each room as she laid out. As she heads towards the bathroom, I drain my glass and head to pick up the bottle as instructed, then follow, "You know, we're probably going to get all sweaty soon, which means we'll have to take yet another shower, Emma." I'm smiling the whole way, and with my free hand, I'm unbuckling my pants. I already left my shoes and socks at the entryway to her apartment, it's just the polite thing to do.
Also, shoe removal? Not the sexiest thing in the world for me.
The deliciously tattooed blonde pauses briefly to slip out of her dress for the second time tonight, then turns back to you. She's braless, as she's been all night, and keeps her eyes on yours as she pulls down her panties and steps out of them. Without looking away, she speaks to the room automation. "Shower on. Temperature 41 degrees celsius." She holds her hand out for the bottle, freeing you up to finish undressing as she watches.
Once you're both undressed, she takes your hand to lead you into the bathroom, which is amazing. The shower is huge, with multiple nozzles and showerheads filling nearly the entire space with crisscrossing streams of hot water. Emma pulls you into the space then turns to slip into your arms. "Careful, cowboy. I'm dangerous."
I look around the shower as she pulls me in. Reminds me of a posh hotel in Makati City. This one is better, though. It comes with an Emma.
When she slips into my arms, I feel her taut little tummy rub against my hardness. Looking into those dark eyes of hers, I reply, "I know you are. Why do you think I'm so attracted to you, chica?" Then, I move in for a kiss, sliding a hand across the small of her tattooed back.
Emma presses into you and shifts slightly, providing just the right hint of friction as the spray wets you both down. Her hands come around to your shoulder blades as she meets your kiss and raises the stakes with some deep, probing work from her tongue. She's hungry, but not hurried or desperate, the same confidence she's shown all night extending to a sureness that the two of you will get what you want from each other. And maybe even discover some new things to want.
The kiss lasts a good long while before I decide I need both hands. I sidestep, trying to keep the kiss going while I put the bottle and my glass on the shelf behind us. I end up breaking the kiss and give her a slightly apologetic laugh and deposit the bottle and glass so I can focus on her.
When I move back into her, I bend down and take hold of her shapely ass with both hands, then pick her up. Her hands are on my shoulders and she can hang on, I'm sure. I'm not looking to penetrate her, not yet, but I want her head level with mine. And yes, when she's ready, I am looking forward to this position.
Emma chuckles low in her throat, her hands moving behind your neck while she wraps her strong thighs around your waist to lock her ankles at the small of your back. Full breasts push into your chest, the hard buds of her nipples brushing against your own. After another, briefer kiss, she turns her head so she can nip at your earlobe, then tease your ear with the tip of her tongue.
My fingers grip her ass when she nibbles at my ear. That's an erogenous zone for me, and I moan low in my throat when she continues to toy with me.
I'm aching to be inside her now, her body pressed against me, her sex rubbing against my own. I could easily tilt back my hips and slip into her. I'm resisting, but I won't be able to hold back much longer.
Sensing your eagerness, Emma unlocks her ankles and wiggles out of your grip until her feet are once more on the ground. Giving you the tut-tut finger, she says with mock-seriousness, "Wash first, cowboy. Wash first." The blonde places her hand under an automated dispenser which pumps out some liquid soap, then tells you to turn around so she can "do your back."
Her hands are strong and move with firm strokes as she lathers you up, massaging slightly as she goes. Neck, shoulders, the broad plane of your back and down to spend some time massaging the base of your spine. Getting more soap from the dispenser, she continues with your ass, then spends some intriguing time soaping up your thighs before moving down to your calves. As she stands again, her hands trail up the insides of your thighs before a single finger reaches between your legs to gently tickle at the base of your scrotum, then trace a tickling path up between your cheeks, lingering briefly at the bud of your ass but not pushing.
After she adjusts one of the nozzles so she can rinse the soap off, Emma says, "Time for the front."
Not surprised she's a take-charge kind of girl. I submit to her authority, relish in the sensations of her hands on me, all over me. The probe of my ass gets a nervous chuckle. I do not want that kind of dangerous. I'm hard as a rock now.
It's intimate, and playful, too. Emma is in complete control, like she has been all night. I've danced to her tune ever since I spoke to her on the ferry.
I turn around as instructed. There was no question I would.
As Emma begins to soap up your throat and chest, her expression changes a little bit and she starts to speak without her earlier teasing tone. "You know, you're not my usual type, Jubilex." Her thumbs make little circles around your nipples before her hands move to give a slippery massage to the side of your ribcage. "Usually, I prefer men whose power is in boardrooms and bank accounts. Men who make decisions with spreadsheets and bottom lines behind them. Whose strength comes from gyms and personal trainers." She moves down your ribcage and in to lightly tease your belly button, then down to the harness of muscle just above your pelvic ridge. "They're eager to have someone lead in the dance of sex, to push them just far enough and maybe a little farther. I'm dangerous to them, but they're safe for me."
She steps back to meet your eye. "I don't usually talk this much, either, but I want you to understand. You're different, aren't you? You don't need me to lead. You could take what you wanted." Avoiding your genitals for the moment, she moves in to run her soapy hands over your hips, your thighs, then kneels to work on your calves and feet. As she reaches her hands up to finally soap up your balls and erection, she looks up at you. "I'd like for you to have the lead, for now, Jubilex." After making sure those bits are extra clean, she stands to once more adjust the nozzle and rinse you off. "But I can't give it to you, understand? I'm not wired that way. You're going to have to take it, and I'm not going to make it easy." She cocks a hip and looks at you with both challenge and need.
Her desire for me to take over is a delightful challenge. The left corner of my mouth curls up in a smirk, and I give her a slow nod, "I will take it, then, Emma."
I let her stand under the rushing shower water for a moment as I turn to pour a tumbler of whiskey, take a drink, then place it half-full on the shelf. The shelf stands about shoulder level to me. I step aside (it's a big shower) and look at the whiskey, "Take the glass, Emma, take a nice long drink, then put your hands on the shelf."
I step behind her as she drinks, reach a hand over her shoulder, my chest sliding against her back. I take hold of her left wrist, and pull her hand to the shelf, and turn it so the palm lands on the shelf. I speak low and husky in her ear, "You did the nice long drink, but I said you will put your hands on the shelf." Then I'll take the bottle from her and place her right hand on the shelf, firm but not squeezing so hard it would hurt.
She'll have to overpower me to resist, but I'm counting on her compliance for at least this first part.
Emma resists you with not entirely unexpected strength, but you prevail. Both hands are on the shelf, but you have to keep them there for a few seconds before she stops fighting you with a grunt. Her struggles have provided quite a bit of body-to-body contact.
The contact, heated as it is, is delicious. Her body is nearly perfect. I wonder idly if she's had work done, but it doesn't really matter. The end result, however she got there, is very pleasing.
I reach for the soap dispenser, and lather up my hands, then return her massages and caresses from earlier, working on her shoulders, down to her arms, then sliding underneath to meet at her breasts. I spend a brief moment gently tweaking her nipples, then slide down to her stomach, fingers gliding over every ab muscle until I reach the top of her pubic bone. Of course, I'm pressed against her now, my hardness against her ass, my chest against her back, my mouth behind her ear, "I am in control now, Emma. You are giving me domination. In return, I will give you ecstasy." My fingers play above her lower stomach, close enough for her to anticipate them moving between her legs, but then they travel back out and down her hips.
I step back, leaving her there, wanting, and casually get more soap. Then I drop to a knee, and begin washing her thighs, down to her calves, then her toes. Both hands on one athletic leg, worshiping her body, but in full control of her. The other I lavish the same affection, all the while, watching her body tense and relax, drinking in the inks on her body.
"Loop naai!" Emma snarls. "I give you nothing, bitch!" As you finish with the second leg, she kicks back, catching you in the shoulder with her heel hard enough to knock you back onto the floor of the shower. She turns with something very like a growl, graceful and dangerous despite the water and the tile.
It occurs to you that, throughout the night, you haven't seen any evidence of whatever enhancements she might have, and given her line of work you have to assume that she has some. It's possible that here—naked, wet and aroused—she might well be able to take you if you fight fair.
I sit up, my instincts for fight or flight kicking in. It rises like a tide, washing over my carnal lust, mixing like some binary liquid into something else. Hell no, I don't fight fair, she wants to lose, right?
From my position, I plant my hands on the tile and kick out to sweep her legs out from under her. I have the advantage, since I can't fall. I'll move in quick to keep her head from slamming into the tile, though. Head trauma is not sexy.
Head trauma is not sexy, and you would have been ready to prevent it if Emma hadn't twisted her body at speeds beyond "normal" human to land atop you, face-to-face and braced on her arms, with a grin. She dips in for a quick kiss, then performs an improbable maneuver that winds up with her on her feet. She reaches down to finger herself, then holds it down to you as if offering to give you a taste. "Sure you don't want to just give up and let me frag you, cowboy?" She's not expecting a capitulation, of course.
When Emma kisses me, I nip at her lower lip, a taste of my own defiance. Damn, she is fast.
I swat her hand away with a snarl, and kip-up into a standing position, dropping into a stance opposite hers. I shake my head no, slowly, the water cascading down my back, "Tonight, Emma.... tonight, I frag you." I move in, quick, a feint for her head. When she tries to block or duck, she'll miss my knee, coming right up into her gut. I'm looking to knock the wind out of her.
...and you do. A measured knee to the gut takes the wind out of Emma's sails, for certain, but her expression is the most aroused you've seen yet: pupils dilating, eyelids wide, nostrils flared. She gives a whoof and then leans back against the wall of the shower stall. All these jets of water, supposed non-stick tile that really isn't... are you pressing your advantage in the shower, or moving on? To be clear, you could take her, right here, right now, but she wouldn't yet have fully submitted. It would be all angles and advantages, not real dominance.
I could take her, but it would just be the one time, and she'd be disappointed. No, I step back, looking at her with the cockiest of grins. "Emma. You're one tough bitch. But I'm faster, and I'm stronger. Tonight, you're my bitch. And you're going to say it."
I stand ready for whatever she throws my way. I'm going to use her move to throw her off balance, then put her in an arm lock. I wonder if she'll be so obstinate that she'd hurt herself to avoid submitting.
Emma's teeth are bared in something like a snarl, and she takes a step before directing a roundhouse kick that could easily break a rib. You move with it, though, catching her calf and spinning her around until you've achieved the arm lock you intended. You can tell by the change in her body's tension that something changes with that, and she gasps a quick breath before relaxing just a bit.
I apply some pressure to her arm, right at the elbow. Enough to keep her attention, not to damage her. "Say it. You're my bitch tonight, Emma. I'm your master."
In a completely serious tone, I tell her first, "Pickles is your safe word. If you say it, we will immediately stop, no questions asked. " I let go of her arm, let her rub it back to get blood flowing. "Let's get out of the shower now, Emma. Dry off and go get on your bed on all fours. Like a dog."
She complies, instructing the shower to turn off and turning to leave. As she turns, her eyes make it clear that she's still HER, proud and defiant, but you met her challenge and prevailed. It would take a LOT to get her to say "pickles". How does it feel, knowing that?
She dries off and goes to wait for you on the bed. On all fours, like a dog.
It feels heady, I need to make this memorable for her. It's already pretty great for me, of course. But if she's never submitted to someone, this should be worth her surrender.
I lazily dry off, watching her the whole time, like she's a beautiful piece of meat. I dry off and follow her, then walk up behind her ass, and slap it hard enough to see my hand print, then laugh a low chuckle. "Tell me, my sexy bitch. Do you have any lube?" I smack her ass a couple more times, then wait for an answer.
I take out the lube, along with a few toys, set the toys on the bed beside her right leg, "Nice toys. We'll make good use of them." I squirt a liberal amount of lube on my finger, and then some more on my dick, put the cap back on and place it on the bed. Then, I move back behind her and start stimulating her clitoris with my dry hand while also, apply the lube to her ass with my right, gently probing her while watching her reaction, "How often do you let men take your ass, Emma? I imagine it isn't a price you have to give up to those weak pencil pushers, is it?"
Anger and trepidation? What a thrilling mix. I coat her ring, and continue touching her most sensitive parts, my hardness rubbing against the back of her left thigh. I feel the contact, and I'm aching to be inside her, but I want to savor this anticipation a moment longer. "Move down to your elbows, and push that sexy ass of yours towards me. Are you ready for it, Emma? You can give in now, if you're scared." I move my fingers away, put my hands on her hips, and wait for her response.
As I slowly slide myself into her canal, I realize if she ever bests me that I'm going to be on the receiving end of this same treatment, with one of those toys on the bed. Hopefully.
I'm going to take some pleasure from this, but I'm not trying to hurt her, so I'll ease in slow, let her adjust. A few fingers sneak around to play with her button, keep her interested. I can't stifle the groan of pleasure from being inside her.
As you slip past the tight ring of muscle, Emma gives a brief grunt of pain and tenses around you, squeezing tightly enough that it hurts you, too, a little. Then you've moved past the frontier and both of you relax (you more than her) into a slow, steady rhythm. Your fingers on her clit begin to moisten from her reluctant pleasure. Grunts become gasps become low moans as she bites the pillow. It seems her submission hasn't reached its expiration date, yet.
I take my pleasure in slowing drawing almost all the way out, then pushing back inside her. She's finally loosening up, and I'm pretty sure the mix of pain and pleasure, and the sensations she's getting have her head twisting around and over and over. My body is burning for release, and I'm not going to last much longer. Too many hours of pent up passion, and if she's submitting, well I can't think of a better way to finish. I'll speed up a bit at the end, then climax inside her, hoping she gets at least some excitement from it, even if it's just the knowledge that she made it through.
Once I'm done, I'll reluctantly slip out of her, reach for my towel, and wipe myself down while sitting on the floor. I reach up with my left hand and pat her ass, "Good girl, Emma. You're a good little bitch."
I need a moment to collect myself, and to finish cleaning off.
Emma rolls over onto her back in a single fluid motion after you pat the ass you've so recently planted your flag in (as it were), and you can tell from her eyes and the set of her lips as she takes a breath that she's about to say something very unladylike...
...then she stops. Takes another breath, then another, slowly and deliberately. Almost as if she's using a calming technique designed for other sorts of situations. A wry grin crosses her face as you finish cleaning yourself off. "Is there... anything else you want to take from me, Jubilex?"
I admire her dedication to this role. I expected her to kick me in the face after that last bit. In response to her question, I give her a predatory smile, "Oh yes, Emma. There is." I rise up to my knees and move between her legs, spreading them so I can lap at her inner thigh. I want her to get something out of this, too. Plus, I enjoy the idea of making her cum after I just planted my flag. My hands roam her lovely chest, circling nipples in rhythm with my licks at her insides. This will make her attempts to breathe slowly melt away, I bet.
As long as she seems to respond well, I want to bring her to the peak, then back off. I want her whimpering for release, if I can do it.
Emma responds well to your attentions, becoming wetter and wetter as you assault her erogenous zones on two fronts. Over a period of ten long minutes, though, she doesn't quite reach the peak you've set as a goal...
...until she does. Her aroused obscenities first switch to Afrikaans, then to a guttural, primal sort of ecstatic utterance that you suppose is universal. When she's right on the edge, at that moment that you're certain is the turning point, you pull back.
In an instant, those toned thighs you've been feasting between are wrapped around your neck, and she turns slightly so she can apply the pressure needed to start cutting off your air supply. Instinct, maybe? But it seems as if that withdrawal triggered something.
I sense it a hair's breadth before the pressure is too much. If I'm quick enough, I can just turn a chin in and slip a hand in the small space so I can pry her back open. Surely this is a convulsion. Or something.
Oh, it's something. Still non-verbal, she lets out a cry of frustration and arousal and redoubles her efforts to bear down, bring your mouth back to her pussy or punish you for refusing.
Let's call this an Attack for Jube, which means Fight.
You do your best to force or wriggle your way out from between Emma's strong thighs, and do manage to shift around enough that she's forced to adjust her plan of attack. Without fully releasing you, she loosens her grip slightly and reaches down to grab your head with both hands, hoping once again to force you into her "honeypot."
Emma ignores my "command" and continues to try and pull my head down to finish her off. She's surprisingly strong and I begin to wonder if I can win this fight. Just before I give in, I switch tactics.
I slip my hand down to her side and gently tickle her. A delightful giggle-snort escapes her lips and it breaks her hold on my head. I stop tickling and stand up quickly. "Lie there and do NOT touch yourself. I'm going to finish cleaning up, then I will come back and frag your brains out." I give her a cocky wink then head to the bathroom and clean myself off and calm down for a moment.
Once I'm done, I head back in to see if she complied. I half expect her to be crouched and ready to attack me. It's pretty exciting.
When you re-enter the bedroom, Emma is on the bed, not waiting to ambush you. She's breathing slowly through her nose again, almost completely still as she watches you move toward the bed through half-closed lids. A thin sheen of sweat gives her body a glow in the low light, and her sex is still glistening with a combination of your saliva and her own moisture.
After the fight, my blood was up again. Seeing Emma there, I'm ready. With rough hands I walk over and pry her her legs apart as I crawl onto the bed between her legs. She's fragging delectable right now.
I bend down and rub the head of my cock against her wetness and pause. When she looks at me, I gove her a stern look and say in a commanding voice, short syllables, "Beg me to make you come. Ask me to frag you."
There's nothing theatrical in her tone when she replies, nothing overblown. It's not even loud. Emma meets your eyes, looking into them deep, and when she speaks it may not be begging, but it's certainly sincere. "Jubilex, I have never wanted someone to frag me as much as I want you to, right now. I've never wanted to feel an orgasm blow the top of my head off more than I do, right now. Please? Please?"
No more words, no more games. I slide into her like I was meant to be there. As hard as I can, I will push in and out of her. I want to be a jackhammer. I want to pound her into her mattress.
After we find a rhythm, I'll alternate between supporting myself with hands on her shoulders or the bed, and for brief moments, I put my hands around her neck. Enough to shock, never enough to damage her or put her in real danger.
At this pace, I won't last long, even on my second go around. I want to squeeze two orgasms out of her, if I can.
You're going at it seriously, matching rhythms and coming together hard enough that your pelvis may wind up bruised. Emma's legs come around you again, ankles crossed at the small of your back to urge you deeper. Her arms reach around to your shoulders, her fingernails scratching you without conscious intent. All the while, as she grunts out a breath or a syllable with each of your jackhammer thrusts, she keeps her eyes on yours. It's not long before she simply explodes with her first orgasm, crying out wordlessly and clutching you deep inside her with muscles in her vagina that she has to have exercised, somehow.
You're still hard as a rock, but so close to letting go again. Do you think you can make it until you bring her off once more, go for the big synchronized finish you're looking for?
Let's see a Will roll to Overcome your own orgasm until she's fully primed for her second.
On the one hand, you've been keyed up for an entire night, since the body shots at the very least, and you've had hours of adrenaline and arousal before you even began your little game with Emma. On the other hand, you did "plant your flag" once already, and not that long ago. On the third hand, she's really hot and that thing she just did with those muscles? Indescribable. On the fourth hand, this is not your first rodeo, or your dozenth. All told, I'm giving the fact that you've already taken the edge off the most weight and only calling for you to beat a +2.
Your first major foreign op after joining Renraku. Mumbai. The team successfully extracted your target, then went out on the town to celebrate in the way that you're just learning to deal with. At some point, you got separated from your colleagues, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, because you wound up sharing a tiny table in a crowded bar with Jharana. Your flirting worked, and she offered to take you back up to her (equally) tiny apartment down the alley and up seven rickety flights of stairs. Once you got inside, she lit a stick of incense and said, "Have you ever heard of Tantra, Beneeecio?"
You slow down as memory tickles the back of your mind. Your breathing calms despite the intensity of the moment, and the rhythm takes on a subtle insistence of its own that brings Emma into a sort of communion with you.
Later, you laid naked on Jharana's narrow bed while her fingers touched what she explained were chakras, slowly drawing you into a state of combined relaxation and arousal that was so intense it was almost religious. "It is not release, nor denial of release that we seek, but extension. One orgasm is but a moment, is it not? But if that were to last five minutes, an hour, longer, what could you learn about the very nature of pleasure?" That was the moment when you started to feel what she was talking about, to match your breathing to a rhythm as old as the universe, the Big Bang slowed to the pace of continental drift. Magma welled up deep within you, shifting and heating your core without demanding release to the surface as lava.
Emma senses that something is changing. The hairs on your arms and hers begin to stand up as if from static and a shiver moves from her skin to yours and back. That remembered sensation of chthonic burgeoning begins. From her widened eyes and flared nostrils, Emma feels it, too.
After what seemed days but surely must only have been an hour or two, Jharana slid on top of you and lowered herself down. Somehow, you knew that you could just let go at any moment, but you could also choose not to, to cycle the potential energy of your orgasm through the circuit of chakras she had described, both yours and hers. "Good, good. Just a while longer, pretty man. Maybe a half hour?" She moved slowly, languidly up and down your entire length, a Mona Lisa smile on her face.
As you both grow accustomed to the near-mystical flow of energy between you, Emma begins to find her place in this duet more and more fluently. You are both riding a wind for the second time tonight, floating between earth and sky, feeling the wind but not the urgency.
Somehow, you just knew when the moment had arrived. You'd been at the peak for so long, passing a ball of energy back and forth through wires and currents that existed only in that moment and only between you. When the two of you, through some unspoken consent, released that energy back into the world, it was as if you were thrust into the heart of the sun without being burned. Even then, it seemed to last forever, the magma spewing out as lava in an eruption that might never end.
As with that one singular time, so many years ago, you and Emma find the moment by unknowable understanding and the energy you release from your combined orgasms shakes not just the bed, but (you're convinced) the astral plane for a full five minutes that might as well be a century.
There is a moment of stillness, maybe longer than a moment, while you lay atop this gorgeous stranger, slowly softening inside her.
Eventually you can breathe again, see the world as the world, see Emma as Emma, feel the separateness of her skin and yours. What do you do?
My hand is caressing her cheek, enjoying the quiet, the intimacy and the aftermath of what we experienced. I've never had that moment with anyone since Jharana. Not with Aoife, or with Gwen, not even with Jessi. It was like a dream, those moments. I'd almost forgotten it was real.
"Hey you..." I say gently, catching her brown eyes with my own. "Told you I'd bring you ecstasy." I tease lightly, a lazy, satisfied smile on my face.
The two of you find a comfortable position to curl up in and enjoy the afterglow for quite a while, before Emma says anything. Eventually, though, "I don't cuddle. Isn't that funny? I never cuddle, before, during, or after. It's a night of challenges to my self-image, I guess." After another few seconds of silence, she continues. "Before, when we jumped off the Arcology, I was thinking I might offer you a job, you know. Not a run, a job. A salaried one, with an office and an expense account. Somewhere between the shower and you cleaning yourself up, I considered killing you. And I could have." She raises a hand before your eyes, and hypodermics extend from the nails of all four of the fingers. "Now? Now, I think I'm never going to tell anyone we met. Keep you in my pocket for an emergency of one sort or another. Or both." She traces a finger along one of your scars. "I'm also going to give you a one-off access code, one that only you will have, and I will promise to answer if at all possible" She chuckles under her breath. "And that's another first. A promise."
I'm far too relaxed to be bothered by her assassination revelation. The idea of another sarariman position almost kills my buzz, though. "You ever worry you might scratch an itch and end up dead with those things?"
I brush some hair out of her eyes. "I have to be honest, I did the wingsuit because it sounded like fun, and I hoped it would lead to amazing sex. Which it did. But along the way, I realized we've got a drekload in common, Emma. You're more than a pretty face, you're hard-working, dedicated, tough-as-nails, and passionate. I'd never take a salary, but I damn sure would like to work with you."
My hand travels down her shoulder to her hip, "Plus, it'd be an excuse for more amazing sex. Listen, I work out of the PRD, but I travel. I'm guessing you aren't in Seattle permanently. Maybe we keep in touch, see when we might be near each other again?"
Emma nods. "The code I give you won't be just for emergencies. I enjoyed tonight, and not just the sex and the wingsuit. You're a good partner. I'm in Seattle for the next six or eight months, and pretty much on my own. Certainly might need a hand on a 'consulting' basis, and I can pay the travel if that happens." She pauses, then decides to continue. "And really, I feel like we could maybe be friends. I don't have many of those. Never have."
Wow, I didn't expect this from Emma, but the idea appeals. I prop myself up on an elbow, "You know, I have lots of allies, a few employees, and a girlfriend. But I don't have a friend. Especially not one I can talk about work with. This sounds great."
I sigh at the contact. Nod. "Sure, I've got enemies. There's a gang called Samhain who I've had troubles with at the barrio in PRD. A Latina Runner named Mina who shot me in L.A., but I left her out a window. My biggest enemy is Legion, the hacker group. My team foiled some drek they tried to pull by summoning a toxic spirit. I still don't know what they wanted to accomplish." I lean in for a kiss, casual, "You?"
Emma enjoys the kiss for a bit before answering. "Lots. Some of them inherited from DeBeers-Omnitech—you know how that goes—some of them from growing up hard, some of them from getting out, when others didn't. It's life, right?"
Reaching down to lightly grasp your limp member, she says with an audible grin, "Tell me about your girrrrrrlfriend!"
I shift a little, putting myself more "in her hands" and chuckle, "Her name is Jessi. We've been together, on and off, for a while now. In the PRD, we're pretty much exclusive. Her dad's a fraggin' capo, which is, of course, not scary at all. She runs a comedy club, she has an excellent style about her. She's fun, and a real flirt. Has a thing for elves, but who doesn't? We stay at each other's places from time to time, but we do have our own places. She's besties with my team hacker, and close with the whole team, and we're both raising some funds to re-open the local bodega that recently closed." I surprise myself with all that I rattled off, then add, "She likes a good cigar and brandy sometimes, and she's also smoking hot."
And yes, all this talk might have gotten me a bit more ready. Should I feel more guilty? She did frag a pop superstar recently. We have an understanding.
As she keeps idly stroking you, Emma ponders for a moment. "That's a pretty complicated life you have, Jubilex. Shadowrunner, business owner, terrorist target, dating a capo's daughter... maybe we ought to get in one more round of amazing sex, before morning, in case you're... indisposed before we have the next opportunity? I'm on top this time, though, once we get you rejuvenated."
Emma leads you through several stops on the tour, some that weren't mentioned in the brochure. Highlights include breaking the "coffee table" in the living room, smashing several serving dishes in the kitchen, and a notable incident with a "smart hanger" in the walk-in closet off the bedroom. Anything stand out for you, Jube, in this leisurely, post-tantra round?
Oh, it's definitely the smart hanger incident. We ended up on the floor of her walk-in closet, feasting on each other, when she rolled over and the hanger fell. I promptly took it and activated it in her little puckered ass while I continued eating her. She said it was "educational".
Eventually, you've made the full tour and wind up back in the bedroom, exhausted. It's 3:30 in the morning, and while you have a run to plan later in the day, there's no schedule yet. Emma smiles tiredly. "So, since I'm breaking rules... do you want to spend the night? Room service breakfast is pretty amazing here."
"That would be lovely, Emma." I say as I pull her into snuggle-range. "The breakfast, and sleeping here with you." I kiss the top of her head, and lay down to rest, tired and a little sore. We are both thoroughly fragged.
You manage about five hours of sleep and another hour of much-less rambunctious but equally enjoyable sex before Emma declares that it's time for breakfast. "I've got work to do today. Is it bad that I call it a good morning when there's only a forty percent chance I'm going to have to terminate an employee?" She doesn't place any special emphasis on the word 'terminate,' but you're pretty much certain she's talking something more final than an exit interview.
"Forty percent chance is just less than half." I observe as I look over the scrumptious spread that room service brought in. "That's lots of termination. You sure your company isn't filled with incompetent people?" I pick up a handful of grapes and pop one in my mouth, then lean over to offer to stuff one in hers.
Emma shares a smile. "I'm a specialist... a troubleshooter of last resort." She spears a piece of canteloupe on her fork and offers it up for you to eat. "Once I get called in, I'm pretty much judge, jury, and... well you know how that finishes."
I gobble down the canteloupe greedily, then take an apple slice and scoop up a small dollop of fruit dip, then offer it to her, "Does it ever get to you? The finishing part?"
Emma doesn't accept the slice of apple, at least not right away. "It's what I'm good at. Not just the executioner part. The judge and jury part, too. I'm good at reading people and the situations they're in, fast. I think that's why I keep breaking rules with you."
Emma shrugs as she chews. "I've been watching, from back on the ferry. You treat your crew with respect. You clock people fast, like you did me. You're a little naive, and a little trusting, but you're good. And you're hard, not just in the sexy way, I can see that. But soft. What you did with that girl in the Arcology." She shrugs.
I walk around behind her, putting arms around her waist, "I like you, Emma. You're hard when you need to be, soft when you can't help it. You live by your word, and you know how to have a good time." I kiss her ear, "If you have work for me, I want it. I'd love to run with you. We're in sync, and that's rare. You know?"
Emma enjoys your affection for a moment, then responds. "I'm glad to have found you, Jubilex. But here's the thing. You ever tell anybody about what's happened in the last ten hours? Ever tell anybody about what I've said or done? Anybody..." She turns her head to meet your eyes, and she's fragging serious. "I will hunt you down and kill you. And you'll never see me coming."
She shrugs. "That said, I'd like it if we could work together for real sometime. Any pair that can break the Arcology, right?"
"I'll keep the secrets of your sweet side, Emma. Take it to my grave." I say with a grin. Check my HUD and realize I should get to work on this run. "Hey, you wouldn't have any ideas where someone might hide a two ton mass of steel called a kera? It's been stolen from a friend."
Emma grins. "Afraid you're on your own, choombata." She leans in to give you a lingering kiss that manages to be both a "thank you," a "you're welcome," and a promise at the same time, then rubs a hand across your scalp. "We'll see each other soon, I'm sure. Now, get out. I've got work to do, and so do you."
I give her a grin, grab my stuff, my wingsuit, and head out. On my wait for the Uber, I reach out to Malin, "Malin, it's Jube. Where are you and where's the team?"
Comments
Third verse, same as the first!
(Rolled: 4df+3. Total: 2. Rolls: 0, +, -, -)
In sync, not the band, brings me through! (Spending a FP). That's a 4.
After a good seven minutes of slowly spiralling closer and closer to the Space Needle, keeping Emma in sight most of the time, and at the end you manage a landing within ten yards of her, without having to pull the chute. Not necessarily graceful, but you stick it, you didn't hit any buildings, birds, or other aerial flotsam, and you're very close to tonight's particular object of desire. She whoops and hollers as she watches you land (just a few seconds after she does), and runs awkwardly toward you in her wingsuit.
What do you do?
The feeling of being a flying squirrel over Seattle is indescribable. The speed, the feeling of being almost naked, the wind all over my body. Exhilarating. This goes down as one of the wildest things I've ever done.
When I hit the ground, I let Emma come to me and work on the zippers of my suit. "Pretty sure we were spotted. We should move soon." I look around. Where did we end up?
You managed to land pretty close to the Needle itself, in one of the small green areas near the base. Emma hands you your shirt as both of you strip out of the suits. You get dressed quickly, bundle up the suits, and, I assume, take off running in some direction or other?
Emma's still laughing, delighted. "The question is," she manages breathlessly, "Your place or mine, cowboy?"
Flashing lights and sirens are approaching the Space Needle, by the way. You were right about being spotted.
Yes, we take off at a jog, dressing and moving for the alleys. I'm laughing too, it's infectious. "Yours, Emma. Definitely yours."
Emma's place turns out to be pretty close. She's staying in an apartment-style suite at the Maxwell, a quirky but high-end place. Once you get there, she moves straight to the bar in the living room and pours you each a double from a bottle of high-end Suntory whiskey.
Moving over to hand you your drink, she stands very close and looks you in the eyes. "So, was that enough fun for one night, or do you have a little more in the tank?"
That's an invitation she knows you'll accept, but seems like she's curious how you'll proceed.
I take the tumbler, turn it up for a nicely-sized drink and hold the whiskey in my mouth. It's amazing what expensive whiskey tastes like if you're used to the cheap stuff. That normal "bubble" that people have with strangers has popped as Emma and I have spent the last few hours together. I like having her stand close like this.
Hell, I'd like to go on a run with her. But that's later, and probably a bad idea.
Speaking of bad ideas, I give her a smirk, "Oh, it's been enough fun in one night for most people. I'm not "most people", Emma." I close the distance, my left hand on her hip. I drink in her eyes for a long moment, "I like your place. Why don't you show me around?" I turn to take another drink, but don't break physical contact.
Emma leans in to speak softly in your ear. "Well, this is the living room, where we might enjoy heavy petting on that comfortable-looking sofa. In there is the kitchen, where we might grab a snack later and come up with creative uses for a kitchen counter. That way is the bedroom, where we're going to frag until we're sore and then maybe take a nap and do it again. And just off the bedroom is the luxurious bathroom, where we are going right now to shower off the dust and sweat." She winks slowly, then turns in the direction she indicated, calling over her shoulder. "Bring the bottle. There's a shelf in the shower."
My smirk grows into a wide grin when she conducts her tour, and I'm very, very interested in exploring each room as she laid out. As she heads towards the bathroom, I drain my glass and head to pick up the bottle as instructed, then follow, "You know, we're probably going to get all sweaty soon, which means we'll have to take yet another shower, Emma." I'm smiling the whole way, and with my free hand, I'm unbuckling my pants. I already left my shoes and socks at the entryway to her apartment, it's just the polite thing to do.
Also, shoe removal? Not the sexiest thing in the world for me.
The deliciously tattooed blonde pauses briefly to slip out of her dress for the second time tonight, then turns back to you. She's braless, as she's been all night, and keeps her eyes on yours as she pulls down her panties and steps out of them. Without looking away, she speaks to the room automation. "Shower on. Temperature 41 degrees celsius." She holds her hand out for the bottle, freeing you up to finish undressing as she watches.
Once you're both undressed, she takes your hand to lead you into the bathroom, which is amazing. The shower is huge, with multiple nozzles and showerheads filling nearly the entire space with crisscrossing streams of hot water. Emma pulls you into the space then turns to slip into your arms. "Careful, cowboy. I'm dangerous."
I look around the shower as she pulls me in. Reminds me of a posh hotel in Makati City. This one is better, though. It comes with an Emma.
When she slips into my arms, I feel her taut little tummy rub against my hardness. Looking into those dark eyes of hers, I reply, "I know you are. Why do you think I'm so attracted to you, chica?" Then, I move in for a kiss, sliding a hand across the small of her tattooed back.
Emma presses into you and shifts slightly, providing just the right hint of friction as the spray wets you both down. Her hands come around to your shoulder blades as she meets your kiss and raises the stakes with some deep, probing work from her tongue. She's hungry, but not hurried or desperate, the same confidence she's shown all night extending to a sureness that the two of you will get what you want from each other. And maybe even discover some new things to want.
The kiss lasts a good long while before I decide I need both hands. I sidestep, trying to keep the kiss going while I put the bottle and my glass on the shelf behind us. I end up breaking the kiss and give her a slightly apologetic laugh and deposit the bottle and glass so I can focus on her.
When I move back into her, I bend down and take hold of her shapely ass with both hands, then pick her up. Her hands are on my shoulders and she can hang on, I'm sure. I'm not looking to penetrate her, not yet, but I want her head level with mine. And yes, when she's ready, I am looking forward to this position.
I have my own hunger.
Emma chuckles low in her throat, her hands moving behind your neck while she wraps her strong thighs around your waist to lock her ankles at the small of your back. Full breasts push into your chest, the hard buds of her nipples brushing against your own. After another, briefer kiss, she turns her head so she can nip at your earlobe, then tease your ear with the tip of her tongue.
My fingers grip her ass when she nibbles at my ear. That's an erogenous zone for me, and I moan low in my throat when she continues to toy with me.
I'm aching to be inside her now, her body pressed against me, her sex rubbing against my own. I could easily tilt back my hips and slip into her. I'm resisting, but I won't be able to hold back much longer.
Sensing your eagerness, Emma unlocks her ankles and wiggles out of your grip until her feet are once more on the ground. Giving you the tut-tut finger, she says with mock-seriousness, "Wash first, cowboy. Wash first." The blonde places her hand under an automated dispenser which pumps out some liquid soap, then tells you to turn around so she can "do your back."
Her hands are strong and move with firm strokes as she lathers you up, massaging slightly as she goes. Neck, shoulders, the broad plane of your back and down to spend some time massaging the base of your spine. Getting more soap from the dispenser, she continues with your ass, then spends some intriguing time soaping up your thighs before moving down to your calves. As she stands again, her hands trail up the insides of your thighs before a single finger reaches between your legs to gently tickle at the base of your scrotum, then trace a tickling path up between your cheeks, lingering briefly at the bud of your ass but not pushing.
After she adjusts one of the nozzles so she can rinse the soap off, Emma says, "Time for the front."
Not surprised she's a take-charge kind of girl. I submit to her authority, relish in the sensations of her hands on me, all over me. The probe of my ass gets a nervous chuckle. I do not want that kind of dangerous. I'm hard as a rock now.
It's intimate, and playful, too. Emma is in complete control, like she has been all night. I've danced to her tune ever since I spoke to her on the ferry.
I turn around as instructed. There was no question I would.
As Emma begins to soap up your throat and chest, her expression changes a little bit and she starts to speak without her earlier teasing tone. "You know, you're not my usual type, Jubilex." Her thumbs make little circles around your nipples before her hands move to give a slippery massage to the side of your ribcage. "Usually, I prefer men whose power is in boardrooms and bank accounts. Men who make decisions with spreadsheets and bottom lines behind them. Whose strength comes from gyms and personal trainers." She moves down your ribcage and in to lightly tease your belly button, then down to the harness of muscle just above your pelvic ridge. "They're eager to have someone lead in the dance of sex, to push them just far enough and maybe a little farther. I'm dangerous to them, but they're safe for me."
She steps back to meet your eye. "I don't usually talk this much, either, but I want you to understand. You're different, aren't you? You don't need me to lead. You could take what you wanted." Avoiding your genitals for the moment, she moves in to run her soapy hands over your hips, your thighs, then kneels to work on your calves and feet. As she reaches her hands up to finally soap up your balls and erection, she looks up at you. "I'd like for you to have the lead, for now, Jubilex." After making sure those bits are extra clean, she stands to once more adjust the nozzle and rinse you off. "But I can't give it to you, understand? I'm not wired that way. You're going to have to take it, and I'm not going to make it easy." She cocks a hip and looks at you with both challenge and need.
Her desire for me to take over is a delightful challenge. The left corner of my mouth curls up in a smirk, and I give her a slow nod, "I will take it, then, Emma."
I let her stand under the rushing shower water for a moment as I turn to pour a tumbler of whiskey, take a drink, then place it half-full on the shelf. The shelf stands about shoulder level to me. I step aside (it's a big shower) and look at the whiskey, "Take the glass, Emma, take a nice long drink, then put your hands on the shelf."
Emma gives you a defiant look, then quickly grabs the bottle and tilts it up to take a long swig, gulping once, twice, three times. "No."
I step behind her as she drinks, reach a hand over her shoulder, my chest sliding against her back. I take hold of her left wrist, and pull her hand to the shelf, and turn it so the palm lands on the shelf. I speak low and husky in her ear, "You did the nice long drink, but I said you will put your hands on the shelf." Then I'll take the bottle from her and place her right hand on the shelf, firm but not squeezing so hard it would hurt.
She'll have to overpower me to resist, but I'm counting on her compliance for at least this first part.
Emma resists you with not entirely unexpected strength, but you prevail. Both hands are on the shelf, but you have to keep them there for a few seconds before she stops fighting you with a grunt. Her struggles have provided quite a bit of body-to-body contact.
The contact, heated as it is, is delicious. Her body is nearly perfect. I wonder idly if she's had work done, but it doesn't really matter. The end result, however she got there, is very pleasing.
I reach for the soap dispenser, and lather up my hands, then return her massages and caresses from earlier, working on her shoulders, down to her arms, then sliding underneath to meet at her breasts. I spend a brief moment gently tweaking her nipples, then slide down to her stomach, fingers gliding over every ab muscle until I reach the top of her pubic bone. Of course, I'm pressed against her now, my hardness against her ass, my chest against her back, my mouth behind her ear, "I am in control now, Emma. You are giving me domination. In return, I will give you ecstasy." My fingers play above her lower stomach, close enough for her to anticipate them moving between her legs, but then they travel back out and down her hips.
I step back, leaving her there, wanting, and casually get more soap. Then I drop to a knee, and begin washing her thighs, down to her calves, then her toes. Both hands on one athletic leg, worshiping her body, but in full control of her. The other I lavish the same affection, all the while, watching her body tense and relax, drinking in the inks on her body.
"Loop naai!" Emma snarls. "I give you nothing, bitch!" As you finish with the second leg, she kicks back, catching you in the shoulder with her heel hard enough to knock you back onto the floor of the shower. She turns with something very like a growl, graceful and dangerous despite the water and the tile.
It occurs to you that, throughout the night, you haven't seen any evidence of whatever enhancements she might have, and given her line of work you have to assume that she has some. It's possible that here—naked, wet and aroused—she might well be able to take you if you fight fair.
Are you going to fight fair?
I sit up, my instincts for fight or flight kicking in. It rises like a tide, washing over my carnal lust, mixing like some binary liquid into something else. Hell no, I don't fight fair, she wants to lose, right?
From my position, I plant my hands on the tile and kick out to sweep her legs out from under her. I have the advantage, since I can't fall. I'll move in quick to keep her head from slamming into the tile, though. Head trauma is not sexy.
Head trauma is not sexy, and you would have been ready to prevent it if Emma hadn't twisted her body at speeds beyond "normal" human to land atop you, face-to-face and braced on her arms, with a grin. She dips in for a quick kiss, then performs an improbable maneuver that winds up with her on her feet. She reaches down to finger herself, then holds it down to you as if offering to give you a taste. "Sure you don't want to just give up and let me frag you, cowboy?" She's not expecting a capitulation, of course.
What do you do?
When Emma kisses me, I nip at her lower lip, a taste of my own defiance. Damn, she is fast.
I swat her hand away with a snarl, and kip-up into a standing position, dropping into a stance opposite hers. I shake my head no, slowly, the water cascading down my back, "Tonight, Emma.... tonight, I frag you." I move in, quick, a feint for her head. When she tries to block or duck, she'll miss my knee, coming right up into her gut. I'm looking to knock the wind out of her.
...and you do. A measured knee to the gut takes the wind out of Emma's sails, for certain, but her expression is the most aroused you've seen yet: pupils dilating, eyelids wide, nostrils flared. She gives a whoof and then leans back against the wall of the shower stall. All these jets of water, supposed non-stick tile that really isn't... are you pressing your advantage in the shower, or moving on? To be clear, you could take her, right here, right now, but she wouldn't yet have fully submitted. It would be all angles and advantages, not real dominance.
I could take her, but it would just be the one time, and she'd be disappointed. No, I step back, looking at her with the cockiest of grins. "Emma. You're one tough bitch. But I'm faster, and I'm stronger. Tonight, you're my bitch. And you're going to say it."
I stand ready for whatever she throws my way. I'm going to use her move to throw her off balance, then put her in an arm lock. I wonder if she'll be so obstinate that she'd hurt herself to avoid submitting.
Emma's teeth are bared in something like a snarl, and she takes a step before directing a roundhouse kick that could easily break a rib. You move with it, though, catching her calf and spinning her around until you've achieved the arm lock you intended. You can tell by the change in her body's tension that something changes with that, and she gasps a quick breath before relaxing just a bit.
I apply some pressure to her arm, right at the elbow. Enough to keep her attention, not to damage her. "Say it. You're my bitch tonight, Emma. I'm your master."
A tremor shudders through Emma's lithe body before she answers. "I'm your bitch tonight, Jubilex. Take what you want."In a completely serious tone, I tell her first, "Pickles is your safe word. If you say it, we will immediately stop, no questions asked. " I let go of her arm, let her rub it back to get blood flowing. "Let's get out of the shower now, Emma. Dry off and go get on your bed on all fours. Like a dog."
She complies, instructing the shower to turn off and turning to leave. As she turns, her eyes make it clear that she's still HER, proud and defiant, but you met her challenge and prevailed. It would take a LOT to get her to say "pickles". How does it feel, knowing that?She dries off and goes to wait for you on the bed. On all fours, like a dog.
It feels heady, I need to make this memorable for her. It's already pretty great for me, of course. But if she's never submitted to someone, this should be worth her surrender.
I lazily dry off, watching her the whole time, like she's a beautiful piece of meat. I dry off and follow her, then walk up behind her ass, and slap it hard enough to see my hand print, then laugh a low chuckle. "Tell me, my sexy bitch. Do you have any lube?" I smack her ass a couple more times, then wait for an answer.
"Top drawer," Emma replies. When you look, there is a small tube, next to some interesting looking toys.What now?
I take out the lube, along with a few toys, set the toys on the bed beside her right leg, "Nice toys. We'll make good use of them." I squirt a liberal amount of lube on my finger, and then some more on my dick, put the cap back on and place it on the bed. Then, I move back behind her and start stimulating her clitoris with my dry hand while also, apply the lube to her ass with my right, gently probing her while watching her reaction, "How often do you let men take your ass, Emma? I imagine it isn't a price you have to give up to those weak pencil pushers, is it?"
There's a hint of both anger and trepidation when she answers, but she doesn't budge from the position you had her assume. "It's been a long time. "Anger and trepidation? What a thrilling mix. I coat her ring, and continue touching her most sensitive parts, my hardness rubbing against the back of her left thigh. I feel the contact, and I'm aching to be inside her, but I want to savor this anticipation a moment longer. "Move down to your elbows, and push that sexy ass of yours towards me. Are you ready for it, Emma? You can give in now, if you're scared." I move my fingers away, put my hands on her hips, and wait for her response.
Once again, "Take what you want." She complies, presenting her ass as you commanded.As I slowly slide myself into her canal, I realize if she ever bests me that I'm going to be on the receiving end of this same treatment, with one of those toys on the bed. Hopefully.
I'm going to take some pleasure from this, but I'm not trying to hurt her, so I'll ease in slow, let her adjust. A few fingers sneak around to play with her button, keep her interested. I can't stifle the groan of pleasure from being inside her.
As you slip past the tight ring of muscle, Emma gives a brief grunt of pain and tenses around you, squeezing tightly enough that it hurts you, too, a little. Then you've moved past the frontier and both of you relax (you more than her) into a slow, steady rhythm. Your fingers on her clit begin to moisten from her reluctant pleasure. Grunts become gasps become low moans as she bites the pillow. It seems her submission hasn't reached its expiration date, yet.
What do you do?
I take my pleasure in slowing drawing almost all the way out, then pushing back inside her. She's finally loosening up, and I'm pretty sure the mix of pain and pleasure, and the sensations she's getting have her head twisting around and over and over. My body is burning for release, and I'm not going to last much longer. Too many hours of pent up passion, and if she's submitting, well I can't think of a better way to finish. I'll speed up a bit at the end, then climax inside her, hoping she gets at least some excitement from it, even if it's just the knowledge that she made it through.
Once I'm done, I'll reluctantly slip out of her, reach for my towel, and wipe myself down while sitting on the floor. I reach up with my left hand and pat her ass, "Good girl, Emma. You're a good little bitch."
I need a moment to collect myself, and to finish cleaning off.
Emma rolls over onto her back in a single fluid motion after you pat the ass you've so recently planted your flag in (as it were), and you can tell from her eyes and the set of her lips as she takes a breath that she's about to say something very unladylike...
...then she stops. Takes another breath, then another, slowly and deliberately. Almost as if she's using a calming technique designed for other sorts of situations. A wry grin crosses her face as you finish cleaning yourself off. "Is there... anything else you want to take from me, Jubilex?"
I admire her dedication to this role. I expected her to kick me in the face after that last bit. In response to her question, I give her a predatory smile, "Oh yes, Emma. There is." I rise up to my knees and move between her legs, spreading them so I can lap at her inner thigh. I want her to get something out of this, too. Plus, I enjoy the idea of making her cum after I just planted my flag. My hands roam her lovely chest, circling nipples in rhythm with my licks at her insides. This will make her attempts to breathe slowly melt away, I bet.
As long as she seems to respond well, I want to bring her to the peak, then back off. I want her whimpering for release, if I can do it.
Emma responds well to your attentions, becoming wetter and wetter as you assault her erogenous zones on two fronts. Over a period of ten long minutes, though, she doesn't quite reach the peak you've set as a goal...
...until she does. Her aroused obscenities first switch to Afrikaans, then to a guttural, primal sort of ecstatic utterance that you suppose is universal. When she's right on the edge, at that moment that you're certain is the turning point, you pull back.
In an instant, those toned thighs you've been feasting between are wrapped around your neck, and she turns slightly so she can apply the pressure needed to start cutting off your air supply. Instinct, maybe? But it seems as if that withdrawal triggered something.
Attack with Fight
(Rolled: 4dF+4. Total: 4. Rolls: -, +, +, -)
I sense it a hair's breadth before the pressure is too much. If I'm quick enough, I can just turn a chin in and slip a hand in the small space so I can pry her back open. Surely this is a convulsion. Or something.
Dodge with Fight:
(Rolled: 4df+5. Total: 5. Rolls: +, +, -, -)
Oh, it's something. Still non-verbal, she lets out a cry of frustration and arousal and redoubles her efforts to bear down, bring your mouth back to her pussy or punish you for refusing.
Let's call this an Attack for Jube, which means Fight.
Attacking-not-attacking Emma's honeypot:
(Rolled: 4df+5. Total: 2. Rolls: -, -, 0, -)
(Rolled: 4df+4. Total: 3. Rolls: 0, -, -, +)
You do your best to force or wriggle your way out from between Emma's strong thighs, and do manage to shift around enough that she's forced to adjust her plan of attack. Without fully releasing you, she loosens her grip slightly and reaches down to grab your head with both hands, hoping once again to force you into her "honeypot."
Attack with Fight
(Rolled: 4dF+4. Total: 2. Rolls: -, -, +, -)
While struggling, I manage to mumble, "Say please." I could die here. It wouldn't be so bad, really.
Fight:
(Rolled: 4df+5 . Total: 6. Rolls: 0, 0, 0, +)
Emma ignores my "command" and continues to try and pull my head down to finish her off. She's surprisingly strong and I begin to wonder if I can win this fight. Just before I give in, I switch tactics.
I slip my hand down to her side and gently tickle her. A delightful giggle-snort escapes her lips and it breaks her hold on my head. I stop tickling and stand up quickly. "Lie there and do NOT touch yourself. I'm going to finish cleaning up, then I will come back and frag your brains out." I give her a cocky wink then head to the bathroom and clean myself off and calm down for a moment.
Once I'm done, I head back in to see if she complied. I half expect her to be crouched and ready to attack me. It's pretty exciting.
When you re-enter the bedroom, Emma is on the bed, not waiting to ambush you. She's breathing slowly through her nose again, almost completely still as she watches you move toward the bed through half-closed lids. A thin sheen of sweat gives her body a glow in the low light, and her sex is still glistening with a combination of your saliva and her own moisture.
Are you ready to go again yet? What do you do?
After the fight, my blood was up again. Seeing Emma there, I'm ready. With rough hands I walk over and pry her her legs apart as I crawl onto the bed between her legs. She's fragging delectable right now.
I bend down and rub the head of my cock against her wetness and pause. When she looks at me, I gove her a stern look and say in a commanding voice, short syllables, "Beg me to make you come. Ask me to frag you."
There's nothing theatrical in her tone when she replies, nothing overblown. It's not even loud. Emma meets your eyes, looking into them deep, and when she speaks it may not be begging, but it's certainly sincere. "Jubilex, I have never wanted someone to frag me as much as I want you to, right now. I've never wanted to feel an orgasm blow the top of my head off more than I do, right now. Please? Please?"
No more words, no more games. I slide into her like I was meant to be there. As hard as I can, I will push in and out of her. I want to be a jackhammer. I want to pound her into her mattress.
After we find a rhythm, I'll alternate between supporting myself with hands on her shoulders or the bed, and for brief moments, I put my hands around her neck. Enough to shock, never enough to damage her or put her in real danger.
At this pace, I won't last long, even on my second go around. I want to squeeze two orgasms out of her, if I can.
You're going at it seriously, matching rhythms and coming together hard enough that your pelvis may wind up bruised. Emma's legs come around you again, ankles crossed at the small of your back to urge you deeper. Her arms reach around to your shoulders, her fingernails scratching you without conscious intent. All the while, as she grunts out a breath or a syllable with each of your jackhammer thrusts, she keeps her eyes on yours. It's not long before she simply explodes with her first orgasm, crying out wordlessly and clutching you deep inside her with muscles in her vagina that she has to have exercised, somehow.
You're still hard as a rock, but so close to letting go again. Do you think you can make it until you bring her off once more, go for the big synchronized finish you're looking for?
Let's see a Will roll to Overcome your own orgasm until she's fully primed for her second.
On the one hand, you've been keyed up for an entire night, since the body shots at the very least, and you've had hours of adrenaline and arousal before you even began your little game with Emma. On the other hand, you did "plant your flag" once already, and not that long ago. On the third hand, she's really hot and that thing she just did with those muscles? Indescribable. On the fourth hand, this is not your first rodeo, or your dozenth. All told, I'm giving the fact that you've already taken the edge off the most weight and only calling for you to beat a +2.
Will powersss
(Rolled: 4df+3 . Total: 7. Rolls: +, +, +, +)
Your first major foreign op after joining Renraku. Mumbai. The team successfully extracted your target, then went out on the town to celebrate in the way that you're just learning to deal with. At some point, you got separated from your colleagues, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, because you wound up sharing a tiny table in a crowded bar with Jharana. Your flirting worked, and she offered to take you back up to her (equally) tiny apartment down the alley and up seven rickety flights of stairs. Once you got inside, she lit a stick of incense and said, "Have you ever heard of Tantra, Beneeecio?"
You slow down as memory tickles the back of your mind. Your breathing calms despite the intensity of the moment, and the rhythm takes on a subtle insistence of its own that brings Emma into a sort of communion with you.
Later, you laid naked on Jharana's narrow bed while her fingers touched what she explained were chakras, slowly drawing you into a state of combined relaxation and arousal that was so intense it was almost religious. "It is not release, nor denial of release that we seek, but extension. One orgasm is but a moment, is it not? But if that were to last five minutes, an hour, longer, what could you learn about the very nature of pleasure?" That was the moment when you started to feel what she was talking about, to match your breathing to a rhythm as old as the universe, the Big Bang slowed to the pace of continental drift. Magma welled up deep within you, shifting and heating your core without demanding release to the surface as lava.
Emma senses that something is changing. The hairs on your arms and hers begin to stand up as if from static and a shiver moves from her skin to yours and back. That remembered sensation of chthonic burgeoning begins. From her widened eyes and flared nostrils, Emma feels it, too.
After what seemed days but surely must only have been an hour or two, Jharana slid on top of you and lowered herself down. Somehow, you knew that you could just let go at any moment, but you could also choose not to, to cycle the potential energy of your orgasm through the circuit of chakras she had described, both yours and hers. "Good, good. Just a while longer, pretty man. Maybe a half hour?" She moved slowly, languidly up and down your entire length, a Mona Lisa smile on her face.
As you both grow accustomed to the near-mystical flow of energy between you, Emma begins to find her place in this duet more and more fluently. You are both riding a wind for the second time tonight, floating between earth and sky, feeling the wind but not the urgency.
Somehow, you just knew when the moment had arrived. You'd been at the peak for so long, passing a ball of energy back and forth through wires and currents that existed only in that moment and only between you. When the two of you, through some unspoken consent, released that energy back into the world, it was as if you were thrust into the heart of the sun without being burned. Even then, it seemed to last forever, the magma spewing out as lava in an eruption that might never end.
As with that one singular time, so many years ago, you and Emma find the moment by unknowable understanding and the energy you release from your combined orgasms shakes not just the bed, but (you're convinced) the astral plane for a full five minutes that might as well be a century.
There is a moment of stillness, maybe longer than a moment, while you lay atop this gorgeous stranger, slowly softening inside her.
Eventually you can breathe again, see the world as the world, see Emma as Emma, feel the separateness of her skin and yours. What do you do?
My hand is caressing her cheek, enjoying the quiet, the intimacy and the aftermath of what we experienced. I've never had that moment with anyone since Jharana. Not with Aoife, or with Gwen, not even with Jessi. It was like a dream, those moments. I'd almost forgotten it was real.
"Hey you..." I say gently, catching her brown eyes with my own. "Told you I'd bring you ecstasy." I tease lightly, a lazy, satisfied smile on my face.
The two of you find a comfortable position to curl up in and enjoy the afterglow for quite a while, before Emma says anything. Eventually, though, "I don't cuddle. Isn't that funny? I never cuddle, before, during, or after. It's a night of challenges to my self-image, I guess." After another few seconds of silence, she continues. "Before, when we jumped off the Arcology, I was thinking I might offer you a job, you know. Not a run, a job. A salaried one, with an office and an expense account. Somewhere between the shower and you cleaning yourself up, I considered killing you. And I could have." She raises a hand before your eyes, and hypodermics extend from the nails of all four of the fingers. "Now? Now, I think I'm never going to tell anyone we met. Keep you in my pocket for an emergency of one sort or another. Or both." She traces a finger along one of your scars. "I'm also going to give you a one-off access code, one that only you will have, and I will promise to answer if at all possible" She chuckles under her breath. "And that's another first. A promise."
I'm far too relaxed to be bothered by her assassination revelation. The idea of another sarariman position almost kills my buzz, though. "You ever worry you might scratch an itch and end up dead with those things?"
I brush some hair out of her eyes. "I have to be honest, I did the wingsuit because it sounded like fun, and I hoped it would lead to amazing sex. Which it did. But along the way, I realized we've got a drekload in common, Emma. You're more than a pretty face, you're hard-working, dedicated, tough-as-nails, and passionate. I'd never take a salary, but I damn sure would like to work with you."
My hand travels down her shoulder to her hip, "Plus, it'd be an excuse for more amazing sex. Listen, I work out of the PRD, but I travel. I'm guessing you aren't in Seattle permanently. Maybe we keep in touch, see when we might be near each other again?"
Emma nods. "The code I give you won't be just for emergencies. I enjoyed tonight, and not just the sex and the wingsuit. You're a good partner. I'm in Seattle for the next six or eight months, and pretty much on my own. Certainly might need a hand on a 'consulting' basis, and I can pay the travel if that happens." She pauses, then decides to continue. "And really, I feel like we could maybe be friends. I don't have many of those. Never have."
Wow, I didn't expect this from Emma, but the idea appeals. I prop myself up on an elbow, "You know, I have lots of allies, a few employees, and a girlfriend. But I don't have a friend. Especially not one I can talk about work with. This sounds great."
"How about enemies? Do you have any of those?" Emma's fingernails (just the nails) tickle along your rib cage.
I sigh at the contact. Nod. "Sure, I've got enemies. There's a gang called Samhain who I've had troubles with at the barrio in PRD. A Latina Runner named Mina who shot me in L.A., but I left her out a window. My biggest enemy is Legion, the hacker group. My team foiled some drek they tried to pull by summoning a toxic spirit. I still don't know what they wanted to accomplish." I lean in for a kiss, casual, "You?"
Emma enjoys the kiss for a bit before answering. "Lots. Some of them inherited from DeBeers-Omnitech—you know how that goes—some of them from growing up hard, some of them from getting out, when others didn't. It's life, right?"
Reaching down to lightly grasp your limp member, she says with an audible grin, "Tell me about your girrrrrrlfriend!"
I shift a little, putting myself more "in her hands" and chuckle, "Her name is Jessi. We've been together, on and off, for a while now. In the PRD, we're pretty much exclusive. Her dad's a fraggin' capo, which is, of course, not scary at all. She runs a comedy club, she has an excellent style about her. She's fun, and a real flirt. Has a thing for elves, but who doesn't? We stay at each other's places from time to time, but we do have our own places. She's besties with my team hacker, and close with the whole team, and we're both raising some funds to re-open the local bodega that recently closed." I surprise myself with all that I rattled off, then add, "She likes a good cigar and brandy sometimes, and she's also smoking hot."
And yes, all this talk might have gotten me a bit more ready. Should I feel more guilty? She did frag a pop superstar recently. We have an understanding.
As she keeps idly stroking you, Emma ponders for a moment. "That's a pretty complicated life you have, Jubilex. Shadowrunner, business owner, terrorist target, dating a capo's daughter... maybe we ought to get in one more round of amazing sex, before morning, in case you're... indisposed before we have the next opportunity? I'm on top this time, though, once we get you rejuvenated."
I adjust myself to give her the best access possible. "You did mention several stops on the tour of your nice place..." I am quickly rejuvenating.
Emma leads you through several stops on the tour, some that weren't mentioned in the brochure. Highlights include breaking the "coffee table" in the living room, smashing several serving dishes in the kitchen, and a notable incident with a "smart hanger" in the walk-in closet off the bedroom. Anything stand out for you, Jube, in this leisurely, post-tantra round?
Oh, it's definitely the smart hanger incident. We ended up on the floor of her walk-in closet, feasting on each other, when she rolled over and the hanger fell. I promptly took it and activated it in her little puckered ass while I continued eating her. She said it was "educational".
Eventually, you've made the full tour and wind up back in the bedroom, exhausted. It's 3:30 in the morning, and while you have a run to plan later in the day, there's no schedule yet. Emma smiles tiredly. "So, since I'm breaking rules... do you want to spend the night? Room service breakfast is pretty amazing here."
"That would be lovely, Emma." I say as I pull her into snuggle-range. "The breakfast, and sleeping here with you." I kiss the top of her head, and lay down to rest, tired and a little sore. We are both thoroughly fragged.
You manage about five hours of sleep and another hour of much-less rambunctious but equally enjoyable sex before Emma declares that it's time for breakfast. "I've got work to do today. Is it bad that I call it a good morning when there's only a forty percent chance I'm going to have to terminate an employee?" She doesn't place any special emphasis on the word 'terminate,' but you're pretty much certain she's talking something more final than an exit interview.
"Forty percent chance is just less than half." I observe as I look over the scrumptious spread that room service brought in. "That's lots of termination. You sure your company isn't filled with incompetent people?" I pick up a handful of grapes and pop one in my mouth, then lean over to offer to stuff one in hers.
Emma shares a smile. "I'm a specialist... a troubleshooter of last resort." She spears a piece of canteloupe on her fork and offers it up for you to eat. "Once I get called in, I'm pretty much judge, jury, and... well you know how that finishes."
I gobble down the canteloupe greedily, then take an apple slice and scoop up a small dollop of fruit dip, then offer it to her, "Does it ever get to you? The finishing part?"
Emma doesn't accept the slice of apple, at least not right away. "It's what I'm good at. Not just the executioner part. The judge and jury part, too. I'm good at reading people and the situations they're in, fast. I think that's why I keep breaking rules with you."
"Oh yeah?" I ask as she finally accepts the proffered apple slice. "What did you read off me? And why am I rules-breaking worthy?"
Emma shrugs as she chews. "I've been watching, from back on the ferry. You treat your crew with respect. You clock people fast, like you did me. You're a little naive, and a little trusting, but you're good. And you're hard, not just in the sexy way, I can see that. But soft. What you did with that girl in the Arcology." She shrugs.
I walk around behind her, putting arms around her waist, "I like you, Emma. You're hard when you need to be, soft when you can't help it. You live by your word, and you know how to have a good time." I kiss her ear, "If you have work for me, I want it. I'd love to run with you. We're in sync, and that's rare. You know?"
Emma enjoys your affection for a moment, then responds. "I'm glad to have found you, Jubilex. But here's the thing. You ever tell anybody about what's happened in the last ten hours? Ever tell anybody about what I've said or done? Anybody..." She turns her head to meet your eyes, and she's fragging serious. "I will hunt you down and kill you. And you'll never see me coming."
She shrugs. "That said, I'd like it if we could work together for real sometime. Any pair that can break the Arcology, right?"
"I'll keep the secrets of your sweet side, Emma. Take it to my grave." I say with a grin. Check my HUD and realize I should get to work on this run. "Hey, you wouldn't have any ideas where someone might hide a two ton mass of steel called a kera? It's been stolen from a friend."
Emma grins. "Afraid you're on your own, choombata." She leans in to give you a lingering kiss that manages to be both a "thank you," a "you're welcome," and a promise at the same time, then rubs a hand across your scalp. "We'll see each other soon, I'm sure. Now, get out. I've got work to do, and so do you."
I give her a grin, grab my stuff, my wingsuit, and head out. On my wait for the Uber, I reach out to Malin, "Malin, it's Jube. Where are you and where's the team?"