Mission Debrief: Archangel [4/4]
anonymous
October 2 2011, 19:21:32 UTC
"Go on," she says, and stops moving, just squeezing down on his shaft. He grits his teeth, breath hissing between them. Growls, but begins to relax, even as his cock twitches in her grasp.
"We got him out," Shepard continues, his voice strained. "Place was empty. Figure any remaining mercs thought of a career change after Tarak bit it. Grabbed the first car, went back to the ship." She tugs on his cock, fingers sealed right below the crown, feels it straining against her with every movement, but never giving the stimulation he needs. He winces and grunts. "Fuck's sake, you bitch."
She grins. "You can finish your story. Or you can finish this on your own."
He slaps his hands on her hips, fingers digging in painfully. "It's finished, all right? Killed mercs, rescued Archangel, patched him up, done."
Aria continues for a few more moments, as if carefully considering his words. Then she shrugs, loosens her grip and begins to stroke.
Shepard growls deep in his throat and kneads her ass. He wants her to move faster, but he doesn't say it, so she doesn't bother.
Still, even at her current pace, he's close to the edge. All the signs are there, rapid heartbeat and breathing, sweat beading on his skin, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Right there at the edge, she finally does quicken her pace, her sticky fingers making soft wet noises as they pump his thick shaft, noises almost entirely lost under the music in the background.
If he makes any sound as he comes, that, too, is lost in the beat. Tilting his head back, his body rippling underneath her, his cock twitching in her grip as it spurts jets of thick white fluid over her hand and arm, onto her stomach and all the way up to her chest, a few drops even spattering between her tits.
Even as he comes, she changes her pace again, relaxing her grip and making her strokes torturously slow. He gasps, lets out a noise of protest and squeezes her until she thinks she hears her hipbones creaking, but she doesn't let it affect her.
Another spurt, hot liquid coming up to her ribs. Another, on her stomach. And a trickle, running down over his still twitching shaft and her fingers. He keeps twitching long after the fluid runs out, and Aria eventually stops stroking entirely, just sits back and enjoys the sensation of throbbing flesh under her touch.
When, finally, it lies still in her hand, Shepard raises his head again. He peers down, eyes still narrow, and seems to admire the mess as his chest heaves with deep breaths. Then he begins to smear the thick come on her skin, thumbs working over her flat, hard abs, the rest of his fingers still digging into her ass.
Aria lets go of his softening cock, and it smacks against his stomach. He winces at the sensation.
"Remind me why I put up with your shit."
She licks her fingers clean, as if that answers everything. Which, truth to be told, it does.
Then she wipes the back of her hand on his cheek, rough stubble scratching her knuckles.
He growls and picks up his shirt and begins to scrub the sweat and sex from his body.
"We got him out," Shepard continues, his voice strained. "Place was empty. Figure any remaining mercs thought of a career change after Tarak bit it. Grabbed the first car, went back to the ship." She tugs on his cock, fingers sealed right below the crown, feels it straining against her with every movement, but never giving the stimulation he needs. He winces and grunts. "Fuck's sake, you bitch."
She grins. "You can finish your story. Or you can finish this on your own."
He slaps his hands on her hips, fingers digging in painfully. "It's finished, all right? Killed mercs, rescued Archangel, patched him up, done."
Aria continues for a few more moments, as if carefully considering his words. Then she shrugs, loosens her grip and begins to stroke.
Shepard growls deep in his throat and kneads her ass. He wants her to move faster, but he doesn't say it, so she doesn't bother.
Still, even at her current pace, he's close to the edge. All the signs are there, rapid heartbeat and breathing, sweat beading on his skin, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Right there at the edge, she finally does quicken her pace, her sticky fingers making soft wet noises as they pump his thick shaft, noises almost entirely lost under the music in the background.
If he makes any sound as he comes, that, too, is lost in the beat. Tilting his head back, his body rippling underneath her, his cock twitching in her grip as it spurts jets of thick white fluid over her hand and arm, onto her stomach and all the way up to her chest, a few drops even spattering between her tits.
Even as he comes, she changes her pace again, relaxing her grip and making her strokes torturously slow. He gasps, lets out a noise of protest and squeezes her until she thinks she hears her hipbones creaking, but she doesn't let it affect her.
Another spurt, hot liquid coming up to her ribs. Another, on her stomach. And a trickle, running down over his still twitching shaft and her fingers. He keeps twitching long after the fluid runs out, and Aria eventually stops stroking entirely, just sits back and enjoys the sensation of throbbing flesh under her touch.
When, finally, it lies still in her hand, Shepard raises his head again. He peers down, eyes still narrow, and seems to admire the mess as his chest heaves with deep breaths. Then he begins to smear the thick come on her skin, thumbs working over her flat, hard abs, the rest of his fingers still digging into her ass.
Aria lets go of his softening cock, and it smacks against his stomach. He winces at the sensation.
"Remind me why I put up with your shit."
She licks her fingers clean, as if that answers everything. Which, truth to be told, it does.
Then she wipes the back of her hand on his cheek, rough stubble scratching her knuckles.
He growls and picks up his shirt and begins to scrub the sweat and sex from his body.
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