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"What?" her face contorted in obvious confusion, as if trying to figure out what any of that meant. "Look, if I don't get my bag back, a lot of people are going to die," she sighed, exasperated, "So can you help me look through this place?"
Recoiling just a bit at her claim, the man grinned, apparently finding some humour in the situation she did not. "People gonna die," he said as if her words were comical. "Heard that one before," chuckling he gestured around and said, "Look sugar, there ain't much to look around in here, as you've seen. And though you may have people that might die if you don't get your package of life-savers, I actually got people whose lives I need ta look out for."
"Well then thanks," she bit back acerbically at him, starting to move into the corner of the room, intending to search every corner of it for a trap entrance or secret door. Her hands moved across the flooring and walls, knocking on it before moving a few steps and repeating the process. She kept her knife ever ready in one hand, her eyes constantly moving around the room as though being hunted.
The tall man watched her a while, as if he'd not seen anything so entertaining in a very long time. It wasn't until she'd searched half the room with her meticulous care that he spoke up again, "Hey hun," he began, "what's your name anyhow?" he had his head tilted, and at some point must've ran his hand through his hair, for it looked thicker and better now, and the strange-definitely bleached-blonde look of it was surprisingly appealing on his dark features.
"Alexandra," she responded, her own blonde hair lacking its usual bounce, the long waves piling down around her shoulder and over her simple cotton t-shirt. Her black jacket was very light and more of a protection against the elements than the cold, and she left it unbuttoned, ending about half way down her back. "Don't you have lives to save?"
She was a treat for the eyes, to be sure, and his were feasting on her. "The name's Jarago," he said, the sound rolling off his tongue so naturally, he made it sound as if it were a delicious snack. "And as for lives ta save, well," he shrugged his shoulders again pulling back his trench coat and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Beneath that heavy coat, he wore a simple vest and black pants, lined with buckles and straps. He looked like a handsome actor done up in the gear of a hard-nosed traveller from a movie. "I could make you an offer. Seein' as how you're shit out of luck, and shit out of... everythin', it seems."
"What kind of offer?" she asked, still repeating the tapping motions, but she was remaining more and more focused on him, her voice becoming just a bit more hopeful. Happiness and joy befit her face well, though he was only starting to see the faintest traces of it beneath the surface of her panic and fear.
Jarago leaned back against what once must have been a clean counter, but now was encrusted with rust and a film of grime. "My crew is gonna set up camp here for the night before makin' our way onwards." Pulling back his collar a bit he sized her up, "That'll give ya a night to search, and if in the mornin' ya ain't found yer bag of life-savers, I'll offer ya a position. Could use a gal like you," he said, a wry smile forming on his face as the look he gave her suggested more than his words alone.
She stared at him blankly, but the slight colour that rose to her cheeks spoke to her awareness of what he was saying. "Fine, yea, alright. Wait, how many of you are there?"
Holding up a hand he flashed her four fingers, "Four all told. Bren and me, then the other two, they're hired hands. Me and Bren though? We're tight," he said with all seriousness, pushing away from the counter and making his way slowly towards the door, "We'll be settin' up for the night like I said. Call out if you find any more of 'em hidin' in a cabinet," he said with a smile, though somehow he managed to make the expression look less condescending than his words made it sound.
"I'm sure you'll hear me - or him - scream. Promise," she said, going back to her tedious work. She was prepared to hunt every inch of this shithole, because there was no way she was returning back to the bunker just to tell everyone she lost all the goods before the sun even set on the first day. She was not going to deliver them into death.
After a couple hours of fruitless search through the decrepit wastes of old humanity, the sounds of laughter and the smells of cooking food arose. Coming out, she saw sat around the fire the large man Bren, and Jarago, with another unidentified man in the corner seeming to sleep. They were being pretty noisy really, but it seemed the man in the corner was used to it and didn't budge.
Turning towards her Jarago bore a big grin, and Bren gave her a stoic but intense look. "Well, look who it is Bren, our little fire-cracker. Y'know," he said, shooting a mock serious look to the other man, "I don't think I should poke fun, judgin' by how fast she can down one of those fuckers, it just ain't smart."
"I'd say you're right," she agreed, plunking down on the floor beside him. "Besides, I'm a lot more pissed off now than I was then," she drew her legs out, stretching them and her back for a moment. "I have no idea where that asshole went."
With a plastic bowl for a dish, Jarago forked something in it that smelled like meat and popped it into his mouth, eating. "Don't know what to tell you about that," he said seriously, "it ain't in their nature to run and hide." With a shrug he said, no longer mocking, "If one of 'em had your stuff and then was gone, he's either on his way to do somethin' horrible with it, or he'll be back for you."
"Think he belonged to New Atlantia?" she asked, looking at Jarago intently. Her stomach growled, but she rubbed her arms over it to silence it quickly. "Fuck, if he's off trading it... Might be better going back," she sighed, curling her legs up and resting her chin on her knees, staring at the fire. She was so lost in her own thoughts she barely showed any interest in the men or who they were, which was so unlike her usual, curious self. While she never cared much for learning, she loved learning about people, watching and talking to them. Especially as these were the first people she'd really met out in the wastes.
It finally dawned on her just how out of sorts she was behaving, and stared back at Jarago, "Why are you here?"
She had been so lost in her own reverie she failed to notice the bewildered looks the two men were giving her. They obviously didn't understand a lot of what she said, though Jarago answered, "We're a caravan, Alex," then cleared his throat.
Laying down his tray he said, with furrowed brow, "Just where are you from? And where are you headed anyhow?" Bren looked almost equally as confused, though his stoic face hid it better as he sat, arms crossed.
"One of the bunkers," she said, her head tilting to the side. It was obvious that there was something lost in translation between them, and she slowly moved her legs to sit more comfortably. "And I'm going... was going... to New Atlantia to get some supplies. But now I don't have anything to trade."
This time it was Bren who was first to look to her and speak, "That explains a lot, Boss."
Jarago nodded, wiping his hands on his pants as he sized up the beautiful young woman anew. "A bunker babe?" he said, a smile returning to his face. "And you were headed to... New Atlantia?" He sounded as if the name was a bit unfamiliar to him, then pointed off out the broken windows of the dilapidated restaurant, "The big white place... over there? Other end of the valley?" he asked.
"Van girl, bunker babe, what next?" she sighed, though her eyes twinkled with good humour. "And yea. Why, what do you call it?"
"Hell," answered Bren immediately, the large, stoic man quick to respond once more, a hard look on his broad face.
Jarago nodded to that, "Damn straight," he affirmed. "And those pieces of shit that attacked you aren't gonna trade anythin'," he said with certainty. "Oh, it came from Hell-New Atlantia-alright. Or very likely anyhow," he said with a shrug, "but ain't no PERSON who goes there and ever comes out right again," he said sternly. "That's where you go to die, or have every bit of your humanity stripped from you. Either way, you might as well be dead."
All the while Bren nodded authoritatively to Jarago's words, his jaw set firmly as if he was put on guard just by the mere topic.
Her brows furrowed and they could see her breathing begin to rise. As her posture straightened further, her hands resting at her sides, she looked to Bren, "Why would they steal my tech stuff?" she asked curiously.
The two men gave her that strange look again, as if she were mad. With a deep intake of breath and a shake of his head he said, "Like I said, the Viles don't go runnin' and hiding, and they don't steal. Unless it's to steal a person or some meat-they like eatin' meat." He shrugged his shoulders, "Just not how they do things, sugar. Never has been."
"Yea, well, that doesn't change what just happened. Fuck, why would I even make this up?" she asked, frustration creeping into her voice as her fingers went to her hair, finally trying to get the dirt free of the thick waves. "They took my stuff, I don't know why and you say they wouldn't have."
The two men glanced at each other for a moment then Jarago looked back to her, "It's not that we don't believe you, it's just that... it doesn't make any sense by our accounting," he said. With a jerk of his chin the tall, darker man gestured for Bren to go, "You take watch for now," he said.
Bren got up, picking up his own rifle and looking over the woman, a glint of curiosity, disbelief and more yet on his face, then turned and left, leaving the two alone with the sleeping man.
Her fingers ran through the long, blonde hair before she finally gave up trying to fix it, staring up at him with an annoyed expression, "I've just pretty much killed everyone I've known for the past decade, and it's sure as hell more than three people in a caravan. How's that for having to start fresh."
Arching a brow over at her, the tall Jarago lifted himself on one palm and slid over next to her, speaking lower. "You've got a pretty grim outlook," he said, "like I told ya, folks out here-in the light-are used to havin' to start from nothin'. And you're fortunate, you already got a job offer," he explained, a wry, handsome smile lighting his ruddy-brown features. "Work for me, I'll see you treated well, and in time you'll earn some extra to help your friends."
She met his eyes, not flinching away, "Yea, about that. What exactly did you want me to be doing? Killing those things full time or just being your adorable little bunker babe plaything, huh? 'cause I'm not sure either of those really flies with me."
His smile widened to a smirk and he put up his two hands, "Why not both?" he said. "You got the tenacity for one, and the looks for the other," he said, reaching a hand out, touching his fingers to her knee. "We can come to an arrangement," he said softly. "Not like you'd have to put out to everyone like most van-girls do. I'd keep you to myself. Maybe Bren now and then. If you're up for it," he offered.
Her eyes went down to her knee, studying the strong hand before looking back to him, a mixture of unreadable expressions on her face. "Okay, firstly, what the fuck is a van girl? Secondly, how long would it take for me to get some seeds and food for a colony of dying people?"
Looking only mildly surprised by her statements he gave a light shrug, but left his hand on her knee. "I don't trade in that sorta stuff," he explained, "but in time along our routes we'd come across the sort of materials you're lookin' for, I'm sure." Clearing his throat he added, "And a van-girl is a woman who tags along on a caravan to see to the needs of the caravaneers. I mean, alternatively there's van-boys too, of course," he explained.
Her lips pursed to the side as she pressed her hands into the dirt, seeming thoughtful. "What type of stuff do you guys do, then?" she asked.
The man's strong hand lingered on her, then slowly began to stroke against her thigh, him leaning towards her rather familiarly, "Weapons," he explained. "Scavenged goods too. We deal in hardware," he said, stressing the 'hard' just a bit.
"God, has it been a while for you or something?" she tugged her thigh away from him, though she didn't seem upset. "What would I have to do, and how would I get the stuff I need then, huh?"
He didn't seem to appreciate her sharp disapproval, though he smoothly took his hand back and placed it on his own knee. "You'd have to keep me happy," was his firm response, "Bren too, now and then, but mostly me. And you'd get what you need by doin' your job well, like everyone else. When we arrive at town, you'd get a cut of the profits that you could use to buy the shit you need."
Her gaze turned back to the fire, and she stared deep into its pits for what seemed like the longest time but was only a half-minute or so. A big breath rose her chest and she let it out before staring at him again, "And how hard are you to keep happy, hm?"
With a light shrug of his shoulders he gave her a look over, "Lookin' as you do, won't be difficult I don't think." Testing his luck again he brought his hand back over to her, laying it directly upon her thigh this time as he spoke quietly near her ear. "You're a real good lookin' gal, and I ain't half bad myself," he said with a confident grin, "I'll make it fun for us both even. And you come along for the ride, paid and no worries."
"And I can leave whenever I want, right?" she still spoke with such confident determination, even as she appeared to be capitulating to him. "And you and your... caravan won't hurt me," she added on.
With a bit of a laugh he nodded, smiling unevenly, "Yeah, that's right. Leave whenever you like, as long as you keep me happy in the mean time-and I mean real happy-and none of us'll harm you, I can guaran-damn-tee that," he said, his fingers probing along her inner thigh again brazenly as he lofted a brow and gave her a querying look.
Despite her calm exterior, she felt her heart beat begin to pick up in her chest and her breathing grow more shallow, despite her best attempts to keep it well paced. Looking back to the fire, her lips were parted and her face conflicted. Still, a thread of excitement was being tugged through her, that same familiar feeling that she had when she first left the bunker. That feeling of adventure and risk, of things new and unknown.
When she looked back at him, her eyes danced with her hidden desires, and she gave a nod of her head, "Subject to revision, I currently agree to your terms."
His smirk widened further still to full-fledged grin, and he gave her thigh a squeeze. With a shrug over his shoulder he indicated back to the hallway towards the kitchen she'd searched so thoroughly earlier, "C'mon then." He was getting up almost as soon as he said it.
She was a bit slower, though that wasn't saying much, and she dusted off her behind as she walked. A tentative glance was given to the sleeping travellers, but there was something much more demanding on her mind, and her steps quickened to keep up.
As far as losing one's virginity went, it surely wasn't ideal. But then, no ideal situation had ever popped up, not with how much everyone gossiped in the bunker. Even Marim couldn't be trusted with her virginity, though the brief thought brought a pang of regret. She probably would have slept with him after she found out she was leaving, if it didn't feel like it was going to be an emotional event.
Alexandra didn't really sign on for that type of thing.
Stranded out there in the wastes of the old civilization, following after a handsome stranger, it was her best option. Especially if he was going to be her ticket to get to safety. She further justified to herself, she would be saving lives as she did; she certainly couldn't say she had an opportunity to do that before.
Jarago had moved so silently and quickly, he was already in the old kitchen, throwing his trench coat over top of one of the less filthy tables, leaving it spread out as sort of a blanket. She could see him now a bit better, even in the dim light of the room, lit only by the small windup lamp he'd brought. The vest he wore was apparently padded with some protection, and he wore nothing on beneath, showing off his dark muscled arms. It was obvious he didn't sit back on his missions doing nothing.
Brushing his long, straight hair back, he undid the vest and leaned against the table, watching her. "Fresh from the bunker, huh?" he asked, "When'd you leave?" His voice was quiet, not carrying beyond the room with the two of them.
"This morning," she moved towards him, standing just inches away with her arms folded under her breasts as she looked up at his face, the shadows dancing across both of them, flattering them both. Not that she needed flattering lighting to be attractive. Her features were beautiful and clear of blemishes and scars, and despite the mess of her long, wavy pony tail, she was still above most any he'd seen.
With the ample swell of her breasts and rear, it was hard not to understand why he'd taken an interest.
With his vest undone he pulled it up over his head then tossed it to the floor beside them carefully. His body beneath was lean and well sculpted, his skin a smooth, even colour all across, showing his dark flesh was definitely not the result of a tan. Reaching out he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her in against him as he looked down.
"That fresh out of the bunker, huh?" He said, lifting his lips and shaking his head in some disbelief. "Been years since I heard of someone climbing out of one of those things," he gave a light laugh, leaning down just a bit. "Been about a decade myself since I came out," he added, so close to her now, letting her see the fullness of his smoothly chiselled good looks, lined by the shadows cast with his lamp.
Her fingertips danced lightly against his chest, exploring the flesh and the muscles beneath, trailing her nails teasingly along his body. "You musta seen it all, huh?" she asked, her eyes staring at his chest, transfixed. She took in a deep breath as her stomach turned, excitement and anxiety brightened her features and pushed away the dull sleepiness that threatened her. Did she really want to go through with this?
So daring and never showing a moment's hesitation, his hands slid up from her hips over her stomach, brushing against her breasts before he pushed back her coat from her shoulders, sliding it off so smoothly. "Just about," he said, tossing her jacket atop his vest on the floor. "Don't get to be a caravan man for this long without seein' and doin' a whole hell of a lot, Alex."
"And yet you've never seen someone steal a backpack," she tutted, her fingers going back to his body and creeping lower along his abs, finding that treasure trail and gliding down it. Her fingers were so soft and smooth, saved from hard, manual labour and difficult living for most of her life. Her skin was so light in contrast to his, and she enjoyed the scene ahead of her, even if she was scared.
He sported a glorious male physique, abs so hard and firm, that little trail of hair so pleasantly soft. Licking along his lips he gave a soft laugh, "Seen plenty of stealin', sugar." He rubbed her shoulders then moved back down, brushing once more against her large breasts before coming to her waist, fingers curling in under her shirt, "Never seen a Vile do it though."
"It was a human," she said, a little confused even as her hands rose up, allowing him to strip her of the light, cotton t-shirt and exposing the white lace bra beneath. It hoisted her breasts, the shadows delving between the thick cleavage, skirting just above her nipples. Her stomach was smooth and flat, though not to the extent of being toned.
Adding the garment to the growing pile, his hard, but smooth fingers stroked over her stomach, and up along to the sides of her breasts, cupping and squeezing them through her bra, the tips of his digits pressed into her breasts. "No hun," he said, "they ain't humans anymore," and despite the grim topic, she could feel his manhood respond to her through his thick black pants. "They're what becomes of a human after that shit they pumped into us ten years ago goes wrong," he explained.
She clearly didn't get it, but her fingers worked against the button of his pants regardless, "Well maybe if they don't steal, then the thief was fine." Her palm moved down, over his clothed cock and rubbed against him, even as she worked the zipper down. The feel of it through his clothes delighted her, that heavy, firm bulge pressing into her hand, so constrained and delightful. The familiar motions brought back pleasant memories of illicit rendezvous with so many different faces, all so enjoyable in their own way.
Even though she'd never had sex, she was amazing at doing everything but. After all, she'd spent years practicing. As her eyes turned up to his, her lips curled into a smile.
Still swelling to his full size, the man was surprisingly big. She could feel the heat of that large organ pressing against her palm, and knew by the time it was done growing it'd be a hefty cock to blow away the ones she'd jerked off and sucked in the bunker.
For his part, his hands slipped around to her back and deftly undid the bra, "They don't work with anyone but other Viles, and the Passives they enslave," he said, tossing the garment away. Even as she pulled free his organ, the thick, well curved shaft so thick and heavy, he said, "There's the Viles, who went nuts and kill, the Passives, who do whatever anyone tells 'em, then... there's us," he said, cupping her tits.
She was so heavy in his hands, that perfect curve and weight, the pink little nipples topping the breasts, still so perky from youth, despite their size. She shifted even nearer to him as she began to stroke him, and he could feel her body warm against his, both literally and figuratively. A heat ran under her skin and she seemed so much more at ease and relaxed than just moments prior. Her grip was firm and steady, and her brown eyes stayed on his, "Let me know what you like."
He gave an approving little groan as her hand began to pump his cock so expertly. It was obvious she had experience; women didn't usually know how to jack a man off well, but this one...
Feeling out her heavy tit flesh, his own hands coaxed such pleasant feelings from them, teasing her pink little nipples as he leaned in and gave her neck a kiss beneath her ear. "Drop the pants and bend over the table," he commanded quietly, his cock already oozing precum onto her fingers as she pumped him. It'd been a long time for him, she was right.
It wasn't how she expected her first time, but then, she wouldn't have expected the order to bring such a burning hot delight to her body. Despite her feisty nature, it brought something out in her that seemed only too excited to emerge, and even though she never let him go as her fingers worked her own button and zipper, pulling down her jeans and her panties rather unceremoniously, she moved into position.
She could feel her body tense and release, excitement spilling through her as she wondered if it would hurt. If it would feel good. If this was what she wanted. Reluctantly she let his cock fall from her adept hand as she braced both arms on the table, her breasts pressing into the protective jacket beneath.
His own pants undone and tugged down just past his hips, the neatly trimmed patch of light hair above his magnificent and large cock was on display. He slipped around her, his hands never leaving her flesh, feeling out her smooth, perfectly unblemished skin along to her hips and ass.
She felt his heated cock brush against an ass cheek, but then something changed. Instead of him lining up to plunge in, he bent his knees and she felt his hands pry her cheeks apart. The next feeling was of his moist tongue lapping along her slit, the tall, dark man giving a little moan of delight at her clean, feminine taste as he teased her clit.
She gasped as she felt his wet muscle working against her, and her entire body flushed warm with the sensation. She couldn't suppress the loud moan, and she pushed herself up on tiptoes to allow him a more comfortable position.
"Aw fuck," she murmured, her head dipping low as her fingers grasped onto the jacket, the strain turning her knuckles white. Her body burned with her own desire, the wrongness of the situation and the stress of the day. She felt so worked up, and as he lashed her sweet nub, she could feel it rock her right to the core.
As much as he seemed quite adept at pleasuring her with his tongue, there was something about the way he moaned and licked at her so vigorously that seemed to hint he was just enjoying himself. Immensely.
The whipping lashes of his tongue coaxed her own fires up high, but they didn't go on forever. The well-hung man rose back up to his full height behind her, dick in hand, as he kept her cheeks spread. Nudging the bulging crown against her virginal slit, he spoke to her with his smooth voice a bit gruffer than before, "Love the smell of a nice, ripe cunt."
She cried out in frustration, feeling so close to the brink yet so far away, and she glanced over her shoulder at him as if to plead before she felt the thick, smooth head rub against her. All sense was lost as her legs parted, her toes pushing her up higher, her torso pressing against the table. She felt weak, and tired, yet the excitement he'd awoken in her would not rest.
"Be gentle," she managed out, sucking in a breath and smelling the scent of their sex commingling in the air.
Jarago gave a wry smile to her plea, but nodded, "Alright," he said. She could tell he was surprised by her request, though only seemed willing to give her what she wanted.
When the entry came it was, as he'd just promised, gentle. The bulbous, well-shaped crown of his impressive cock pressed plushly against her petals, parting them as he lodged himself inside just barely. Placing his two hands upon her hips, he gave a bit of a push more, only placing an inch or two of his length within but groaning from the slick squeeze, "Don't be afraid," he urged smoothly.
She was so wet, yet so tight. His cunninglingus had helped warm her to the experience, though, and at his words she felt her body obey, the tension leaving her shoulders and back as her breathing became more constrained.
It didn't hurt, not really. It felt strange and wonderful, but it didn't hurt. Her legs trembled as they struggled to keep her aloft, and she tried to part them further, finding the jeans to be holding her locked in place.
Over six feet high, he bent over her as he slid his length deeper into her quim. True to his word, he was gentle, though as tight and untrodden as her cunt was, and as thick as his girth got with each throb of desire, it was still not exactly an easy entry.
With his fingers dug into her ass and hips, he groaned a little as he lodged himself to her depths, snugly pressed to the very limits of her sex. "Damn," he cursed, his dick swelling with repressed desire. "I think I might even believe this is your first time," he said in a breathy voice, laced with longing.
"Yea," she breathed, her head dipping down as she felt his thickness throb within her. It was such a full, strange feeling, yet so pleasant at the same time. He was warm, and the sensation was almost comforting. She could feel his thighs lined up against hers, his hips pressing into the round curve of her ass, and she squirmed against him.
Shallow breaths and little sighs escaped from her as she felt so alive. So terrifically alive. Every sensation seemed more real, more tangible, more pleasurable, and she pushed back against him.
He didn't start on her right away, instead he bent down over her, curling his arms in under hers and kissed her shoulder blade, her spine, nuzzling her skin and hair as his cock twitched and throbbed inside her so eagerly. "You sold it cheap," he said in a groaning voice, then, bent over her as he was, began to pull his length from her slowly, "but you sold it to the right man, and that's what counts most."
With a low groan he pushed back into her, beginning to fuck the busty nineteen year old slowly.
She groaned at his words, and it sounded like she was going to bite back something at him until another moan stole her voice. Her entire body felt so hot, and she could swear she felt herself slicken at his cruel assessment of her values. She didn't want to sell it to anyone!
Nudging her hair out of the way, he kissed and suckled at her neck as his hips slowly pistoned into her. Gentle, the motions were pleasant, and he brought his hands beneath her, cupping her tits and squeezing them as the sound of his heavy balls slapping against her clit began to rise as his pace slowly rose.
Jarago was an excellent lover, and not because his dick was so big. Despite the slow pace he managed to strike into her at a pleasant angle, and he used his hands and mouth to such great effect upon her flesh. Titillating and provoking her nerves constantly.
She couldn't do much more than try to stay aloft, fighting against her body's desire to just collapse into a frantic state of sensations. Everything sang his praises, and her mind became hazier and hazier, replacing her anger with bursts of longing. Longing for him to go faster, to go slower, to envelope her completely. Her body was needy for him in a way she'd never experienced before, and her stomach churned with excitement.
Kissing, suckling and nibbling alternately upon her neck, the sound of his husky groans in her ear were so pleasant, another masculine sign of the man who was claiming her virginity so fully. His pace had quickened, but not to the degree part of her wished; he was still heeding her desire to be gentle, it seemed, though it didn't impede his pleasure.
As Jarago's balls tightened against him, she could hear his voice catch a little in his huffs and his body go stiff as his member went rigid, swelling within. His release was impending, and he still kept it going, drawing out the moment as long as he could.
She was familiar with the way a man's body reacts to that ultimate moment, the pleasant stiffening and bucking that rewarded her for a job well done. She had made a game out of it to see how quick she could get them to this delicious point, and she always watched their faces with awe. She tried to turn to look at his, to mentally store it away with the others, but instead he found a new place on her neck that caused her eyes to flutter shut and for her nipples to harden further against his groping hands.
His release was intense. Inside her tight quim he bucked harder than he'd ever let himself thrust in her with his attempts at gentleness, his body taking over with its automatic response. With a lewd groan that reverberated in the metal filled room, he expanded with his release, cock swelling as it lanced its rich seed into her so deeply.
Jarago bit down upon her neck a little as he emptied himself into her, his nude chest pressed against her bare back as he unleashed his entire load to the last.
Her skin prickled with the hard sensation, the feel of the erratic thrust giving her that same pleasure as men's orgasms had back in the bunker. This time, though, it seemed more intense. More rewarding as he struck against her, sending shocks through her body.
"Fuck!" she cursed, her entire nervous system attentive and teased to full attention.
As the twitching of his release subsided to the dull throbs of his post-coital cock, he squeezed her in his arms and kissed her neck. "You'll do well," he said in an approving, smooth tone of voice, that sounded very complimentary, his smooth jaw line brushing against her neck and cheek.
Her head stooped as she felt her body so near to that pivotal point and so resistant to being sent toppling over it. Even with her excitement and desire, how wet her little pussy was, and how long she had waited for this moment, her body resisted her need to cum. Even as her finger went between her thighs, rubbing slickly over that pulsing bundle of nerves, she only felt herself climb higher.
Jarago ground his cock into the sloppy cum laden mess of her cunt, his hands teasing her teats, provoking her breasts to higher pleasure as he licked along her neck and suckled her lobe. "C'mon," he coaxed, knowing what she was trying to get out of herself, "cum for me. I wanna feel you gush around my dick," he said into her ear in a lewd, harsher post-coital voice.
She felt her anger rise at his demanding tone, until she felt something much more all-encompassing crash through her. That stubborn pleasure washed through her body, leaving her shivering and thoughtless as she pressed back against him, her dainty fingers never stopping their fast, flicking action. Her breathing was so hard and her nipples felt almost impossibly tight as she felt them strain against his rough fingers.
Cramming his still turgid dick into her, he gave a satisfied 'ahhh' as he felt her warm rush of fluid announce her release upon his shaft. "That a girl," he commended, letting her ride out her release as he ground himself against her, letting his hands lavish in the supple feel of her large breasts.
When finally she slumped against him, her feet relaxing from her tiptoed position, she felt exhaustion follow in her orgasmic wake. The room stank of sex, but her mind was pleasantly, thankfully silent. She drew in long, deep breaths as she relaxed her head against the jacket, her breasts pinning his hands to the table under their heavy weight.
With a kiss to her shoulder blade, Jarago began to tug back, slipping his cock from her fluid filled cunt. "There's some food waitin' for ya if you're hungry," he said, lifting her enough to free his hands.
She suddenly remembered that she was starving, and her stomach growled loudly as she pushed herself up, clumsily reaching down for her pants. He worked a number on the young woman, but finally she was, at least, half way dressed. Her breasts were still very bare, her nipples still very hard, as she turned to look at him through lidded eyes, "Thanks."
With a confident smile he lifted his own pants back up over his hips and began to tug that monstrous sized cock back inside. "Hey, keep this up, and before long you'll have me wrapped around your little finger," he said jokingly, flashing her a charming wink as he snapped his pants shut again then reached out, giving her cheek a light stroke and pat.
Her face moved into his sweet caress before she bent down, grappling with her bra and tightening it around her chest, "Rather you didn't tell anyone about this."
With a thoughtful nod he took his hand back and plucked up his vest from the floor, "Sure, if that's how you'd rather play it," he said, getting the protective vest in position and slipping it on over his head. "I'll tell the men you're hired on as regular help then. They'll buy it after what you did to that scumbag earlier."
Tightening the clasps he added, "But, so you know, Bren'll probably figure it out eventually. Man knows me better than anyone, and he's got a thing for you, I can tell."
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