Out of Uniform

This is one of the rare erotica stories I’ll be featuring here at the Tales of the Whethermen blog (see this page for more info about that)
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Out of Uniform

Stubbornly, her mind dwelt just a little on lost opportunity—lost wealth—as his tongue wove a slow, warm, zig-zag trail up her ankle and shin, then around the back of her knee to trace whorls on the sensitive skin there.

Her breath hitched, and she let out a soft, low keening moan.

So nice, she thought. So sweet. Bastard fuckhead, though. Damn you.

How had she gotten in this position, she wondered, briefly confused as feelings of pleasure welled in her head and made rational thought sluggish and slow like cool honey. Oh, yes, the fight. Their fight. Such a public fight, too.

Why did you have to burst in on my personal space while I was working, you fucker, she mused semi-angrily, while his soft, full lips planted warm kisses all over her inner thigh, then migrated briefly to just below her sex, offering a quick, damp peck at the base of her labia before his mouth went to deliver firm kisses to her other thigh, and journey slowly back downward toward her other foot, with licks and kisses, to complete his cycle.

Her hips began to gyrate and thrust slowly as he briefly sucked at her toes, as if the air itself could fuck her gently and insistently, and his own throat now offered small moans of encouragement to match the increasing moans of pleasure she sang so eagerly now in her growing passion.

She hadn’t wanted the fight; she’d tried to avoid the possibility of one—and now even through the waves of lip-delivered pleasure that made her gasp she could feel the dull throb of bruises along her left ribcage. You had to go there, didn’t you?  she thought. You had to choose violence to bring me low.

Of course, she reminded herself, she had been aiming a stun gun at him at the time.

But this was just taking advantage of her. This was…

Oh, yeah, I actually initiated this, didn’t I? Except I’d offered to give him something to defuse the situation—offered my body to get out of trouble—and instead of using me quick and dirty, instead he’s kissing his way across the landscape of my skin, asking nothing.

Yet.

Of course he’d want something for himself eventually, but chivalry apparently wasn’t dead, as he paid in advance in that too-often-rare currency of foreplay. Less than 20 minutes earlier, they’d been fighting, and now they were so close to coupling.

He’s so much better a choice to lay with than anyone usually in my circles. When I’m not alone, it’s always creepy folks, temporary-hire minions, yes-men and others surrounding me, all of them unappealing in some way.

But unappealing wasn’t any way to describe him—Python was what to call him, not just because it was his hero monicker but because she could see the prodiguous bulge of his manhood through the thin pants he wore, skintight and covering him from just below his waistline to just above his knees. Those pants were a mix of green, brown and gold, in a pattern that emulated a snake’s scales. They must have cost a pretty penny, she thought, since they were made of high-quality latex. Given his powers and his line of work, they were not fetish-wear but legitimately functional as well as aesthetically pleasing, and they revealed that while he might not have a porn star-length cock—he probably came in at just under seven inches—his girth was tantalizing. It made her salivate just a little as it hovered above her face. Then he swiveled his body around, away from the near-69 position he had been in with her, so that she could view his tight, strong ass, encased in thin, glistening rubber as well—rising and falling, the view delicious from across the top and back of his head. His hair was thick and curly, though cut short, and his skin a dark tan color. A Latino godling.

Along with the mask that covered almost all of his face and the lower half of the back of his head, he almost looked like a Mexican luchador—a pro-wrestling-worthy crimefighter.

And he’d caught her, fair and square. Defeated her and now had her pinned to the mat, so to speak.

Lifting his head a little and hooking one finger under the waistband of her panties, he looked at her through the eyeholes of his mask, his chocolate-brown gaze pinning her. His finger slid back and forth lightly, slowly. Not yet touching her sex, but so close.

“When will people like you learn that crime doesn’t pay?” Python chided her, a grin on his lips and his Central American-accented words filling her ears like a warm aural syrup.

“If this is the way you punish all the evildoers, crime rates are likely to go way up,” she answered. “Do the men get this treatment, too?” she added, a teasing note in her voice.

He waggled the index finger of his free hand back and forth, and then poked her lightly in her bruised ribs, making her wince just a tiny bit even as his other finger brushed the lips of her vulva and the hood of her clitoris, making her gasp just the barest bit.

“Python does not do men. This is not simply macho posturing and a need to maintain my virile masculine image—I do not like any cock but my own,” he answered. “And you are my first capture to end in a bed, but you’re also the first to try to bribe me with sex to let her go. I find this surprising that it’s taken so long for someone to try that.”

Her eyes darted up to the handcuffs he had slapped on her shortly after defeating her, and she jangled them against the headboard to which they current bound her. “I wish you’d let these hands free so I can give instead of just receiving, because I’d like to earn my release—sexual and otherwise.”

“I have not said I will let you go, Pixie,” Python noted as he pulled her panties off roughly—she heard them tear and wasn’t surprised—one of Python’s two known abilities was his Brute power, giving him higher-than-normal strength and some resistance to harm. “I said I’d be happy to take you up on some playtime. I didn’t say it would work.”

His fingertip brushed the entrance to her sex, up and down thrice and teasing a little more wetness from her—making her hips twitch.

“And so,” he continued, “if you don’t like the vague terms and uncertain outcome, you should tell me now. I wouldn’t want you thinking sex is a guarantee of anything, and then have you feeling intimately assaulted. I’m not always a gentleman, but I’m also not a sleaze. Last chance.”

“If you don’t fuck me after all this build-up, then I’m gonna feel used and assaulted,” Pixie answered, and sighed as her answer encouraged him to put his lips and tongue to her quivering and ever-wetter sex. “It’s not like I carry a vibrator with me when I go on a job. Besides, you already assaulted me, you bastard. I think you bruised a couple ribs.”

Mumbling through her neatly trimmed pubic hair, his tongue poised at her clitoris, Python said, “If you don’t pull a weapon on me, I won’t hit you. Good advice for you to remember if there is a next time—whether me or any hero.” Then his nose and mouth were buried deep inside her and her pelvis thrust upward to bury him even deeper, her back arching. She wanted to bury her hands in his hair and grab tight of his curls and the thick leather of his mask; wanted to grind her sex against him and paint his face with her juices until he could smell nothing but her—taste nothing but her. Instead, she strained at the handcuffs in frustration and as part of her general writhing, earning herself slightly chafed and bruised wrists for her efforts. But somehow, that small taste of pain, along with her sore ribcage, only served to enhance the enjoyment of Python’s cunnilingus. It was a taste of pain in a full serving of pleasure—like a dash of spice or bitter herbs in a savory entree from a renowned chef.

Her breath began to catch, and she felt on the verge of hyperventilation as his tongue plowed a hot, damp furrow in her vulva, parting her outer lips and inner lips and dipping inside her like a small cock. “Yes…ooooohhh…yeah. Yessssss. Fucking hell, yes,” she moaned.

Tiny sparks of light—viridian, scarlet, amber, violet and sapphire—danced along her flesh and briefly, barely illuminated his face between her thighs, glistening with a light sheen of perspiration, his saliva and a bit of her own juices.

“You are not trying some trick, are you?” Python asked, a warning note in his voice, and then he returned to making love with his mouth.

“Just…fucking…suck and lick…and eat me, you bastard,” she growled lustily. “My powers go off a little when I’m out of control. You’ve got…me…a little…out of control here.” Her words dropped off suddenly as she began a long moan followed by a series of squeals. “Blinding or disorienting you now is definitely no good for me,” she continued, her voice husky now. “I want…I need you…to finish me off. Oh, maybe twice or three times. Goddddd. Fuuccckk. Besides, I’m still handcuffed to…the damn…bed.”

“I tease,” he said, bringing his face up to her belly button and licking there, then moving upward to  between her breasts, burying his face between them briefly and nipping at her skin lightly with his teeth. He sucked loudly at one nipple and then moved on to the other, cupping the first breast with his right hand and massaging that damp nipple with his thumb as his other hand pressed against her sex and the heel of his palm pressed the upper reaches of her vulva with firm, slow circles. “I tease you about maybe trying to attack me. I tease your body.”

“Stop…teasing…and fuck me,” Pixie said, voice thick with pleasure—half-groan, half-snarl. “Let my hands free so I can do this right. I swear I won’t…try anything. Nothing that won’t be nice…my lights can be nice. They can even be a little warm. Please…God I want you, you bastard fuck!”

He slipped a pair of fingers under the chain between her cuffs and yanked, snapping it in two, then kissed her hard on the lips, letting her tongue past his lips, the mask’s leather around the edges of his mouth abrading her slightly in a tantalizing way. A sudden kaleidoscopic light show erupted around their mouths, and he felt their skin warm even as the tiny spectral outburst dazzled his eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t break those yourself yanking at them,” Python mumbled as they kissed and his hands continued at her breast and her pussy. “I hardly used my strength—they aren’t even mall security guard-worthy. Cheap sex toy things.”

“Oh, cutting corners on the restraints, Python? Times are hard?”

“Bad economy,” he answered, licking her lips and then sucking at the side of her throat, making her moan and eliciting a little keening noise from her mouth. “Besides, most of my enemies earn a knock-out punch. Regardless, I have plastic zip ties for them. The handcuffs are just for show usually, and they go so well with my pants. I thought they’d look nice on you. Sexy.”

“Mmmmmmm,” Pixie replied, a sound as much of appreciation for his words as for the pleasure he was giving her. Her hands slid down over his ass and stroked those slick, shining pants, feeling the heat of his skin through that thin, slippery material. Her fingers dug deep, massaging his butt cheeks as she pulled him to her and ground her pussy against his thick cock, loving the feel of the latex pants against her dripping sex even as the barrier frustrated her desire to get his penis into the open. “Take those off. They look great. They feel great. But they’re in my fucking way. Want dick.”

Python laughed in rumbling, bass notes and slid them slowly off his hips and down his thighs. The whole time he continued to kiss her mouth and neck, at times almost reaching the back of her neck and her shoulder blades with his tongue. His mouth and free hand seemed to reach almost everywhere even as he pulled away a little to get his pants off—all evidence of his other known power: the extreme agility and flexibility afforded by his Acro powers; the combination of transhuman strength, acrobatic prowess and contortionist-level flexibility giving rise to his codename of Python even as the light-manipulation powers, telekinesis and mild clairvoyance earned Pixie her own monicker.

Finally, his pants were off, and his cock free, its heat and firmness pressing against her vulva. He was teasing, but she was hungry, and she pulled him toward her even as she virtually pounced on his manhood by thrusting her hips upward, surrounding his manhood and sliding it deep inside her.

“Tsk, tsk,” Python said, and pulled himself out of her suddenly. She nearly wailed in frustration, and lights once again danced around her and along her skin, but this time in dark, angry colors. “Safety first, and no little Pythons.”

He picked up the pants he had removed, using a section of them to pull over his cock, and Pixie understood, the dancing lights softening to more pastel colors now. Not a perfect stand-in for a condom, but the chances of impregnating her would be slim.

“I’m on the pill, you know,” she said as he slipped inside, her pussy welcoming him with wetness and incendiary heat.

“Why would I know that?” he said softly and warmly into her ear. “And besides, we don’t know where each other has been,” he teased, pumping slowly inside her. His almost bare chest and six-pack abs stroked her own torso as he thrust, their shared sweat making their skin slide effortlessly against the other’s.

“Shut up and fuck me,” Pixie said, warm little nodes of golden and topaz light spreading from her skin along his, warm and tingling. His latex pants around his cock were thicker than any condom, but that made his thrusting all the more thrilling. He was already thick and now just a little thicker, and slick besides. It was almost like being fucked by a pre-warmed dildo, attached to a man with an Adonis-like body. Pixie realized she’d never been with a Hispanic man before, and wondered if this kind of skill came standard—if the term “Latin lover” was more than some acknowledgment of the stereotypical suave romantic banter and behavior of Latinos.

With a fluid, effortless speed, Python rose up and plunged deeper, his legs wrapping around her ass. His hips were moving forward and backward while also rising and falling from side to side, making his cock not only plunge in and out but swirl inside her. The strength and contortion abilities in his legs held her tight to him as he filled her and made her inner flesh ripple with passion—and she swore his cock itself rippled and spiraled itself.

“Holy fuck!” Pixie growled. “I may never fuck a non-Acro transhuman again! Make me…come…bastard. Screw me. Fill me. Shiiiiit!”

She wrapped her arms as tightly around his waist as he could and did her best to impale herself on him, her mind swimming in the sensations of spiraling, slickness, wetness, hardness and heat. She groaned, then growled, then howled, burying her face in his chest and nipping at him, licking the sweat from him, nuzzling one bicep and kissing it fiercely as she cried out, shuddering all over and quivering madly between her legs.

She kept thrusting against him, milking her orgasm for all she could, lights flickering across her skin and using her telekinetic powers to increase the pressure of her vagina around his penis, squeezing him as she pistoned up and down his cock. She heard the moaning begin in his throat and then he groaned deeply as he came.

Then lights exploded between them, mostly in his face, and Python was momentarily startled and disoriented, enough that Pixie could slide off him quickly and force him onto his back before he could think straight and use his strength or agility. She ripped the sticky, dripping latex pants away from his cock and she dove for it, wrapping her lips around him and sucking and sliding. She devoured him, savoring the mix of his come and her juices on his shaft and head. She swallowed him deep and slid up and down his sensitive skin. He groaned in something almost pain but mostly ecstasy as she refused to give any rest or release to his oversensitized cockhead, keeping at him until there was nothing left of their mutual come on his dick and he was nearly soft again.

“For a moment there, I thought you would make a run for it,” Python snickered.

“I don’t think my legs could handle running to the bathroom right now, much less getting me past the door and to freedom,” Pixie admitted, an almost shy look in her eyes as her finger traced the furrows between his abdominal muscles and she licked his shaft again, soft but still thick and hot. “Besides, give me 10 or 15 minutes and I think I can get him revved up again. I want a round two. Maybe a round three. But I have to ask you, will you let me walk when we wake up tomorrow morning?”

Python sighed heavily. “I don’t like the idea of letting a crime go unpunished. You aren’t any kind of innocent.”

“I’m also not any kind of dangerous transhuman villain,” she pointed out, wrapping a finger around his cock and twisting a little as tiny nodules of light sparked from her hand. “It was a crime against an institution, not actual people, and it was non-violent. No one would have even seen my weapon if you hadn’t come barging in to tackle wee little me. Not to mention the fact I didn’t actually get away with anything.”

The tip of her tongue probed the underside of his cockhead, and his penis twitched a little, began to slowly early signs of recovery, and she smiled. Licked him again and then sucked on his head while keeping her doe-eyed gaze locked on his stern one.

Finally, he laughed and his eyes softened. “You’ve convinced me, but this is a one-time-only get out of jail free card. I’m not that easy.”

“We’ll see,” Pixie said, pressing her tits against his face and burying her glowing fingers in his hair. “I may have to get your number and text you right before my next crime, just to make sure I get a second date.”