The Illusive Man/Miranda: His Girl 3/3
anonymous
November 4 2011, 02:18:31 UTC
There was a greedy expression in Miranda’s eyes as she pulled his pants and boxers away. The Illusive Man wasn’t going to kid himself about his size. He wasn’t hung like a krogan, didn’t have the exotic ridges that turians and drell possessed, but he was above average for a human, and knew exactly how to use what he had. His length sprang up, right into her waiting hands. She eased her palm along the underside of his shaft, while her other hand lightly played with his balls.
He prayed that she wouldn’t keep him waiting forever...and she didn’t. Inch by inch, she lowered herself onto him, burying him inside herself. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached his base. He could hear her mewling, struggling to control herself. For a few seconds, they remained still, bodies melded. And then she moved, with a familiar ease, riding up and down his shaft.
As the tempo increased, he began thrusting his hips up to meet her. They both knew his stamina and self control was better, he never came first, always putting her pleasure ahead of his own. She was in love with him, but she would never own him, or be his only girl. It sometimes made her bitter...and sometimes it just demonstrated her willingness to share. But for all his womanizing, even he had to admit, Miranda was the only one who was truly a match for him.
They came together, he with a grunt, she with a joyful scream. She slumped forward onto his chest, not even bothering to disengage, panting with pleasure in the afterglow. Reaching for his discarded trousers, The Illusive Man retrieved a cigarette. Miranda didn’t smoke, turned up her nose at the habit. She had once entered his private suite on Ilium, wearing an outfit that would make a stripper blush, only to catch him at the end of a two pack binge. He had never seen anyone turned off so quickly.
After a minute, she finally rolled off him, looking around for her dress...only to find it had vanished. “Where are my...?”
“I had the cleaning crew take it out,” Jack stood up, walking to his chair to stub out his cigarette. He smiled, his secretary had left a canister of whipped cream behind, He’d have to have Yeoman Chambers thank her later, Miss Higgins could use some company. “It’s not like you’ll be needing clothes for a day or two.”
“What about the Lazarus Project?” Miranda sat up, looking slightly alarmed.
“You can afford a short break,” Jack lay down beside her, rolling her over and pressing her breasts into the cold, hard floor. “I think it’s about time we had a more thorough de-briefing.”
Miranda was usually a creature of extreme alacrity and habit. She followed routine, got her job done, and never took any attempt to delay her lightly. At least, that was one Miranda. This Miranda’s pussy was on fire, her nipples were being roughly rubbed against a cold surface, and her mind was clouded in a fog of...of...she whispered something under her breath.
“What was that?” Jack paused, Miranda whined in complaint.
“I said fuck me!” She moaned, raising her ass to make it easier for him to slide into her pussy. “Fuck me till I can’t walk.”
He playfully slapped her ass as he teased the entrance to her womanhood with his tip. She was his to do with as he wished, his girl through and through, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t occasionally go both ways. “Your wish is my command.”
Re: The Illusive Man/Miranda: His Girl 3/3
anonymous
November 5 2012, 02:47:12 UTC
I know this story is old, but I can't believe it never got a comment. A!A, if you're still around, I just want to congratulate you on a job well done. Thank you, thank you so much for writing a fic about this pairing; there needs more amazing stuff like this out there.
He prayed that she wouldn’t keep him waiting forever...and she didn’t. Inch by inch, she lowered herself onto him, burying him inside herself. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached his base. He could hear her mewling, struggling to control herself. For a few seconds, they remained still, bodies melded. And then she moved, with a familiar ease, riding up and down his shaft.
As the tempo increased, he began thrusting his hips up to meet her. They both knew his stamina and self control was better, he never came first, always putting her pleasure ahead of his own. She was in love with him, but she would never own him, or be his only girl. It sometimes made her bitter...and sometimes it just demonstrated her willingness to share. But for all his womanizing, even he had to admit, Miranda was the only one who was truly a match for him.
They came together, he with a grunt, she with a joyful scream. She slumped forward onto his chest, not even bothering to disengage, panting with pleasure in the afterglow. Reaching for his discarded trousers, The Illusive Man retrieved a cigarette. Miranda didn’t smoke, turned up her nose at the habit. She had once entered his private suite on Ilium, wearing an outfit that would make a stripper blush, only to catch him at the end of a two pack binge. He had never seen anyone turned off so quickly.
After a minute, she finally rolled off him, looking around for her dress...only to find it had vanished. “Where are my...?”
“I had the cleaning crew take it out,” Jack stood up, walking to his chair to stub out his cigarette. He smiled, his secretary had left a canister of whipped cream behind, He’d have to have Yeoman Chambers thank her later, Miss Higgins could use some company. “It’s not like you’ll be needing clothes for a day or two.”
“What about the Lazarus Project?” Miranda sat up, looking slightly alarmed.
“You can afford a short break,” Jack lay down beside her, rolling her over and pressing her breasts into the cold, hard floor. “I think it’s about time we had a more thorough de-briefing.”
Miranda was usually a creature of extreme alacrity and habit. She followed routine, got her job done, and never took any attempt to delay her lightly. At least, that was one Miranda. This Miranda’s pussy was on fire, her nipples were being roughly rubbed against a cold surface, and her mind was clouded in a fog of...of...she whispered something under her breath.
“What was that?” Jack paused, Miranda whined in complaint.
“I said fuck me!” She moaned, raising her ass to make it easier for him to slide into her pussy. “Fuck me till I can’t walk.”
He playfully slapped her ass as he teased the entrance to her womanhood with his tip. She was his to do with as he wished, his girl through and through, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t occasionally go both ways. “Your wish is my command.”
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