requests; response eight
Who: Elisabeth Braddock, Ethan Sykes
Where: Training Center
What: Umm, Ethan and Betsy...'sparring'.
Rating: Hard R
For: spikyflyboy who asked for 'Betsy/Ethan -TURN THAT DRABBLE INTO A FUCKING FIC! NOW.' Anyone get that joke? (this is probably not as long as you wanted it, but stfu!)
Without a doubt, Elisabeth enjoyed the weekly battle of wills, even before that was what it became. It started out as a simple case of two combatants getting a work out. The burn of muscles afterwards was enough gratification to begin with. But somewhere along the line things changed. There was an attraction, Betsy knew that already, but neither of them were willing to act on it. But sparring, that was different.
The spark of pleasure that ran up her spine had nothing to do with being pinned to the mat and everything to do with the power above her. Betsy's skin tingled where his hands gripped and she had to bite back the moan of pleasure, lest she give the game away too early. That was what they had come to, beyond the training and the sparring lay a dangerous game that neither vocalised but both were far to interested in stopping. There were rules, unspoken rules which came with the game, and both understood them without ever having to say anything.
As he tried to get her into a submission hold, Betsy twisted her body, using her impressive flexibility to reverse their positions. She wasn't nearly as strong as he was but that just meant she had to use different tactics. His hand was still around her wrist, forcing her hand back down behind her, twisting her arm even as she locked one of her legs around his, her other leg over his hip for leverage. And then she pressed down.
She knew what she'd find, and that was why she did it. His intake of breath, even as his hips pressed up into the warm curve of her hip and leg, Betsy using her lower body to add pressure, twisting her hips down until she heard him groan. She got a point for that, the unbidden noise to prove her upper hand, more so that the hard length of his cock pressing against her hip. It was the satisfaction of hearing it that caused the distraction, not long, but long enough for him to pull her down and twist them again.
Betsy gets one hand in front of her to avoid her face hitting the mat, her other still twisted behind her back. Sykes gives her arm a slight twist, pushing his knees under her hips and spreading her over his thighs. The position pushes her down while pressing her crotch into his and Betsy can't help but grunt at the pleasure that pulses when he pushes his hips up into hers. His other hand plants on the mat right in front of her, changing the angle and he takes a slow roll of his hips, pushing against her and inducing a full body shudder. She knows that she's lost from that second on, the wide splay of her hips, the angle he's got to push up, it sparks pleasure at every move and Betsy bites he lip, pressing her cheek to the mat even as her hips push down to meet his.
"Okay, okay, I give." He releases her wrist without further delay and she understands then, he was moments away from conceding as well. She doesn't say it out loud though; her hand slipping beneath her work out shorts as his hand curls around her hip. She moans against the mat, mouth open and gasping as she works herself closer to the edge, Ethan rubbing against her through his own work out gear. They're growing bolder, needing more every time, they started out rubbing against each other but finishing in the showers, now, she's got her hand under her shorts and his is close to slipping in with it.
She gets there first, and he follows. It's just a game, but it's definitely mutually beneficial. No matter who gives in first.
Where: Training Center
What: Umm, Ethan and Betsy...'sparring'.
Rating: Hard R
For: spikyflyboy who asked for 'Betsy/Ethan -TURN THAT DRABBLE INTO A FUCKING FIC! NOW.' Anyone get that joke? (this is probably not as long as you wanted it, but stfu!)
Without a doubt, Elisabeth enjoyed the weekly battle of wills, even before that was what it became. It started out as a simple case of two combatants getting a work out. The burn of muscles afterwards was enough gratification to begin with. But somewhere along the line things changed. There was an attraction, Betsy knew that already, but neither of them were willing to act on it. But sparring, that was different.
The spark of pleasure that ran up her spine had nothing to do with being pinned to the mat and everything to do with the power above her. Betsy's skin tingled where his hands gripped and she had to bite back the moan of pleasure, lest she give the game away too early. That was what they had come to, beyond the training and the sparring lay a dangerous game that neither vocalised but both were far to interested in stopping. There were rules, unspoken rules which came with the game, and both understood them without ever having to say anything.
As he tried to get her into a submission hold, Betsy twisted her body, using her impressive flexibility to reverse their positions. She wasn't nearly as strong as he was but that just meant she had to use different tactics. His hand was still around her wrist, forcing her hand back down behind her, twisting her arm even as she locked one of her legs around his, her other leg over his hip for leverage. And then she pressed down.
She knew what she'd find, and that was why she did it. His intake of breath, even as his hips pressed up into the warm curve of her hip and leg, Betsy using her lower body to add pressure, twisting her hips down until she heard him groan. She got a point for that, the unbidden noise to prove her upper hand, more so that the hard length of his cock pressing against her hip. It was the satisfaction of hearing it that caused the distraction, not long, but long enough for him to pull her down and twist them again.
Betsy gets one hand in front of her to avoid her face hitting the mat, her other still twisted behind her back. Sykes gives her arm a slight twist, pushing his knees under her hips and spreading her over his thighs. The position pushes her down while pressing her crotch into his and Betsy can't help but grunt at the pleasure that pulses when he pushes his hips up into hers. His other hand plants on the mat right in front of her, changing the angle and he takes a slow roll of his hips, pushing against her and inducing a full body shudder. She knows that she's lost from that second on, the wide splay of her hips, the angle he's got to push up, it sparks pleasure at every move and Betsy bites he lip, pressing her cheek to the mat even as her hips push down to meet his.
"Okay, okay, I give." He releases her wrist without further delay and she understands then, he was moments away from conceding as well. She doesn't say it out loud though; her hand slipping beneath her work out shorts as his hand curls around her hip. She moans against the mat, mouth open and gasping as she works herself closer to the edge, Ethan rubbing against her through his own work out gear. They're growing bolder, needing more every time, they started out rubbing against each other but finishing in the showers, now, she's got her hand under her shorts and his is close to slipping in with it.
She gets there first, and he follows. It's just a game, but it's definitely mutually beneficial. No matter who gives in first.