by Noah Rain
I tried not to think about the fact that I was desecrating a sacred place with my lewd actions. As it turned out, Scarlett made that part easy.
She had grabbed a hold of my cock and squeezed hard enough to make me notice. That had to be pretty hard, considering the fact that I was still pumped full of adrenaline from the fight with Vash and his crew, never mind the fact that I already had dulled sensations as a result of my cursed gift, or my gifted curse.
Not feeling pain was one thing. Not feeling pleasure was something else entirely.
Still, I wasn’t dead. I was a young man, still, and Scarlett was a young woman. She was also the most beautiful one I had ever seen. She was wearing close to nothing, had a figure to kill for, sweat beading on every pore of pearly freckled skin, and she was also a fighter, which just made my blood pump that much harder.
We stared at each other for what felt like too long, me with my jaw hanging just slightly open, and Scarlett with her eyes boring directly into mine. I felt my cock throbbing in her grip, and her eye lashes seemed to flutter in time with it as she felt it.
Show me, Scarlett had said. Well, she didn’t seem like the type to wait for an invitation.
Our spar had taken a different turn, and one I didn’t mind at all, even though it did still seem to have a competitive flavor.
Keeping hold of my penis, which was still soft, but growing by the second, Scarlett used it as an anchor and pulled herself into me. I felt her soft, wet chest slide against my own, and then her lips were pressed against mine, her tongue questing inside of my mouth.
I murmured something, and Scarlett moaned in the affirmative. Neither of us knew what we were trying to say, and both of us seemed to take the meaning.
Scarlett’s lips felt like velvet, and her tongue tasted like cherries. There was even a slight metallic hint of blood. I think that was mine—the result of a lucky strike from one of Vash’s men. Scarlett didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she liked the taste, and it drove her on.
She pushed me back, and instead of setting my feet like I was trained to do, I let her. I felt the ropes against my back, bending a few inches until they went taut. Scarlett kept driving in, pressing her hips against my bunched up boxers, where my cock was still tangled up underneath the band along with her hand, which had begun to stroke me as much as she was able to.
I felt Scarlett’s stomach pressed against mine, and the feeling of my abs seemed to drive her to new heights of sexual aggression. She bit my lip, softly at first, and then hard as she withdrew, leaving my twisted tongue stranded.
I opened my eyes and blinked, noticing that Scarlett was no longer in front of me. I felt a blast of cool air against my hips, and looked down.
Scarlett had dropped to her knees. She ripped my boxers down to my ankles, not bothering to be slow about it, and she was looking at my cock. A thick vein ran from my shaven pelvis—had to avoid chafing when I was training my kicks—midway down the shaft, and while I wasn’t completely hard, the head was blushed pink and pulsating.
She had released me, but now she reached forward with both hands, lifting my cock with her right as she reached under with her left.
I let out a small gasp as she pulled me closer by my most vulnerable, sensitive area. Most men probably would have filled a bucket by now, but as I had half-jokingly boasted to Scarlett, I was not most men. I didn’t feel everything Scarlett did, but I watched her do it, and that was all I needed to get a fulfilling experience of my own.
Scarlett skipped past my cock, saving it for later, and licked me. We were both covered in sweat from our spar and from the fight with the Shockers, but Scarlett didn’t care. She seemed desperate. Hungry, even, and she seemed to savor my flavor.
She withdrew, looked up at me with those brilliant eyes, blinked and tilted her head to one side as she stroked my cock. That did the trick. I was hard. Fully extended, I was nothing to sneeze at, and when Scarlett lowered her eyes once more, I could tell she wasn’t pretending as they widened in wonder and appreciation.
She pressed her left hand against my stomach, fingers splayed, nails sliding up the ridges of my abs, cutting me. She hooked her right hand behind me, pressed her palm against my ass and pulled me in. The head of my penis entered her wet, waiting mouth, and she moaned in pleasure as she closed her eyes and took me in.
On her first pass, Scarlett took me all the way to the back of her throat, swallowing three quarters of my cock. She held me there and sucked hard, and then pulled back, running her tongue along the bottom of my shaft along the way. She made a smacking sound as she popped off the end, and then she came back in, licking some dripping pre cum before it could touch the canvas.
She worked on my cock for the better part of ten minutes. I could see her lips pulsing in time with it, and after a while, I stretched my arms out over the ropes and sighed, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in a long time.
Scarlett pulled back suddenly, and I looked down to see her staring at me intently. She looked upset, which just looked even hotter with the mix of pre cum and saliva dripping down her chin.
“What?” I asked, feeling crass.
She frowned and looked at my cock, which was still just as hard as it had been ten minutes ago.
“Guess you weren’t lying,” she said.
“About what?”
“How long can you keep this going?”
“Longer than you,” I said, fully confident. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being with women since my condition had taken effect. But it was sometimes a frustrating experience for me. They could get orgasms out of me like I was a credit company, but it took me a lot longer, and most gave up, satisfied with their own satisfaction.
Scarlett was not like most women, I would soon learn.
“Fuck this,” she said.
I thought she was about to stand up and storm out. She did stand up, but instead of leaving, she wrapped me in a hug, slammed her hip into mine, just missing my extended penis, and I found myself both shocked and confused as I flew through the air.
Scarlett landed in side control, and the breath wheezed out of my lungs as my back slammed against the canvas, making the planks under the ring shudder from the impact. The breath didn’t fill my lungs again before Scarlett had straddled me. She was smiling, now, and she squeezed her thighs together, pinning me in place and reached back to undo her bra.
Her tits were just as amazing as I had imagined. They still stood up without the support of the bra, dropping half an inch. Her nipples, which had been pressed against the satin, now stuck out, pink and delicious, and I saw goosebumps rise on the pink-white breasts. She didn’t even bother getting off of me to take her thong off. Instead, she scooted forward until she sat up on my chest, hooked two fingers under the cotton of her panties and pulled the band aside.
Her pussy was white, but there were even a few light brown freckles here. I could see her clit, pink and wet like a little marble or pearl. Before I knew it, she flexed her core and scooted forward again, hooking her right hand behind my head and pulling me forward.
It was wet, warm and juicy. It tasted sweet, and more than the taste and the sensation against my lips, what made my cock hard enough that it started to hurt was listening to Scarlett’s increasing moans of pleasure. She reached back and took my cock in her left hand as she squeezed the back of my hair, thrusting her pelvis forward and sliding her pussy against my mouth and tongue until I’d settled into a groove she approved of.
I could feel droplets on my stomach as Scarlett worked to pump cum out of me. She groaned at one point, seemingly in sexual frustration, and suddenly my head hit the back of the canvas as she released me and flipped around. She pressed her pussy against my mouth and laid against my stomach facing the other way, and I felt warmth enclosing my cock as she took me into her mouth.
Scarlett grinded against my face and mouth, and I grabbed a hold of her
ass on either side, gripped her thong and tore it off, flinging it aside like a sling. I pulled her in, licking her pussy and then, against her slight resistance, I pressed her hips down against my chest and ran my tongue from one wet hole to another. Scarlett let out a whimper.
She shook a few minutes later, moaning as my cock pulsed in her throat. I sighed as I felt her juices slide down my chin, but she wasn’t willing to throw in the towel that early. After a minute spent breathing, my cock held firm in her quivering mouth, she sat up, spun around again, and held my penis up straight.
When our eyes met, Scarlett was blushing fully, her tits moving out and in along with her ribs. Her abs stood out from the effort, and her ponytail had come half loose, spilling a hand of hair over her right shoulder.
“Ready to quit yet?” I asked, knowing it would rile her up.
Instead of socking me in the jaw or slapping me across the face, Scarlett smiled wildly, looking like an Amazonian warrior from myth. She held my cock firm and lowered herself onto it, and I watched as her tight lips parted to take me in.
She went slowly, wincing as I entered her, but she didn’t hesitate. But the time she settled down onto the base of my cock, she was shaking, and I was starting to feel a whole lot.
It could have been in my mind, but I couldn’t recall having felt so aroused in years. My injuries had taken so much from me in the ring, but I had never spared much thought to what else they had taken. Scarlett pressed her palms against my chest and pushed me down, and then she went to work. When most girls road a cock, they either pressed their hips down and grinded, keeping you as deep as they could, or they bounced like a schoolgirl riding the bus.
Not Scarlett. Scarlett took a page out of the Latina playbook and kept her upper half still, poised like a sculpture of femininity as her hips did the work. She arched her lower back, bringing her ass up, and I felt my cock sliding down the walls of her vagina. Just before the tip popped loose, she thrusted her hips forward, and took me back in. She was firm and soft at the same time, fast and slow. Her knees pressed in against my sides, and her abs flexed and relaxed. She was like a dancer. Like a tamer.
I felt a stinging sensation. It started low, and then crept up the base of my cock as Scarlett moaned and pumped, pumped and moaned. I grabbed her ass with either hand and took control, thrusting hard. Scarlett fought back, and before long, it was impossible to distinguish who pushed and who pulled. We kept on like that until our hips were bruised and Scarlett’s pussy lips were swollen, and finally, mercifully, exultantly, I fucking exploded.
I pulled my cock free, lifting Scarlett up, the cum shooting out to drench her pussy as I withdrew. I sucked in a breath, and the next pulse covered her ass, while the third and fourth reached all the way up to her back.
When it was done, I sighed and released Scarlett’s wet, sticky ass and let my head drop against the canvas, my hands dropping to my sides.
Scarlett continued to grind against my stomach for a few minutes, moaning softly, delighting in the feeling of our mixed sweat and cum. She was shaking, and I was calm. More calm than I had been in years.
“I …” I started. “I don’t think I’ve cum, really cum, since this shit started.”
Scarlett rolled off of me and fell onto her back, her hands going down to her hips. She winced.
“Sorry,” I said, noticing.
“Just … a lot,” she said, half laughing.
Most guys would have taken it as a compliment. We must have gone at it for an hour. But I only worried that it would give Scarlett cold feet. Why fuck me if it was just going to make it impossible for her to ride her motorcycle for three days?
Motorcycle. I almost swooned. Another spectacularly hot thing about Scarlett.
We recovered for a while, staring up at the rafters, feeling the cool kiss of the draft—a considerable draft, given that the front door was broken—that dried our bodies.
“Nifty trick,” Scarlett said after a few minutes.
“Which part?”
“Just … the,” she gestured up with both hands and I turned my head to look at her. I already felt my blood start pumping again as I watched her chest bob and the skin slide over the grooves of her ribs.
“Stamina?” I supplied.
Scarlett looked at me with her eyebrows raised. She didn’t want to concede.
“Not just stamina,” she said. “But … ah, fuck it.” She sighed. “Your cock stayed hard the whole time. No give.”
“I had help,” I said with a smile, but she was shaking her head.
“No,” she said. “It’s a part of your condition. But, I don’t think you quite get how it works.”
“Oh?” I said, tilting my head. “And you do?”
“I just think there’s more to it than numb nerves,” she said. “If that was all it was, why would you get hard like that, and stay hard like that? Why would you be able to shatter military-grade glass with your strikes?”
“I hit hard,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, not feeling the pain of the strikes—“
“Wouldn’t stop your hands from breaking,” Scarlett interrupted. She looked more serious than she had before.
I hadn’t really considered that. I rubbed at my knuckles absently. They were already scabbing over from where the carbon fiber and glass suits of Vash and the boys had cut them, but Scarlett was right. Those were military-grade suits. I shouldn’t have been able to break them with my bare hands without a fracture or two.
“Your condition has changed something about you on a physiological level,” Scarlett said. “Your muscles … they move differently. They contract differently. They … sort of, pulse.”
She was tracing her eyes down my own ribcage, and then lower, where they widened again. She blushed when she saw me looking.
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “With all the chemicals they put in our food these days, something’s bound to happen. Fighting triggered my injuries, or my condition, but the doctors could never agree on why or how. And those were League doctors, mind you. Not just random Jaxton nurses at the Med.”
Scarlett frowned. “What makes them better?”
“Incentives,” I said. “League doctors want to stay in Silk City, where the lights are bright and the streets clean, at least from a literal perspective. League fighters make the Suits money. I made the Suits money. I was an investment to them.”
“The League will be dead and buried in a few years,” Scarlett said. “It’s all about the Guilders these days. The best reality programming around is the six o’clock news, seeing which Syndicate clashed with which Guild this week.”
“Fair enough.”
“So,” Scarlett said, giving me a more serious look. “First cum in how long, did you say?”
I smiled and shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
“A while,” I said.
“And how many … opportunities have you had since the condition took effect?”
“Jealous?”
She gave me a withering, deadpan look.
“A few chances. None came all that close, to be honest. Usually ended up tapping out, for lack of a better word.”
She smiled mischievously. Scarlett was clearly competitive. The fact that she seemed to be taking pride in making me cum was almost enough to get me at full mast again.
Scarlett rolled onto her stomach and draped her arm over my chest. I couldn’t feel pain, but I noticed the soft cream of her skin.
“What about that stuff?” I asked, seeing the little black cannister next to her discarded suit.
“What about it?”
“You don’t strike me as the science type, is all,” I said. “And, judging by our little disagreement with Vash and his boys, you don’t really need pheromones to get your point across either way.”
“Nina makes the stuff,” Scarlett s
aid. She seemed almost disgusted by it as she traced a finger down my body.
“Nina,” I said. “Okay, then. I’ve talked a bit about me. What’s the deal with you girls? What’s the Vixens’ gimmick? Blasting Suits in the face with a love potion to extract money?”
Scarlett looked at me. She didn’t seem to take offense.
“Compromising them,” she said. “In any way possible.”
“And how many have you personally … compromised?” I asked.
“None.”
“Really?” I couldn’t say I believed her. I was feeling pretty compromised myself in the moment, even though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I could possibly have that the Vixens would want. I had no credit. I wasn’t a powerful Guilder. I had no influence left in the League, or on either side of the bridge.
“Really.” She was deadly serious, and asking again probably would have earned me a punch. “That’s Darla’s territory.”
“Darla,” I said, saying it in a dreamlike manner. Scarlett didn’t take the bait.
“I doubt she’d have been up to the task,” she said, and I only noticed on a delay that Scarlett had her hand wrapped around my cock again. “Talented as she is.”
“We shouldn’t count her out,” I teased.
Scarlett leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled back.
“But seriously,” I said. “What are the Vixens about? What’s your drive? Your goal? You really think you’re going to take down Silk City by compiling blackmail on the Suits? As if they don’t already have it all on each other.”
Scarlett sighed but didn’t release her hold. It was starting to get difficult for me to concentrate.
“If it were up to me,” she said, “we’d fight the Guilders on their terms. But they’d join up and take us out. Fighting them head-on would be foolish.”
She arched an eyebrow again and I blushed, knowing I’d done just that, albeit with the Syndicates. By challenging and failing to capture Vash, I had marked myself, likely on both sides of the bay.
