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See No Evil: Concept in Practice (ch.15)
🕑 Added 2020-10-14 15:01:14 +0000 UTCI could only perform the same trick so many times, it would seem, I thought about a half dozen safe houses later. Phones did unfortunately exist, so the Blackgaters did eventually pick up on the fact that in the past hour that at least eighteen of their fronts and safehouses had been hit. I saw proof of that when I saw people being kicked out of a small restaurant.
The Blackgaters who owned the place started closing off blinds to block any view of those inside. Just not before I saw a dozen of them in there. I crouched low behind a trashcan, mulling over what I saw. I still had a handful of decent combat cards, but that was a dozen guys armed to the teeth. What's more, they were expecting someone to attack. The element of surprise that had carried me through the fights so far was gone. Now I was stuck wondering if it was worth the risk.
"If it was Tifa or Revy, it wouldn't be a problem," I muttered. They could take down a dozen guys and not break a sweat. I wish I was that badass, but, quite frankly, I was not. Sadly. They hadn't used their comms once, so they hadn't needed any help. I sighed as I looked down at my deck of cards.
I did have options, but they were less surefire than I wanted. I had a few Pepper Spray Smokebombs, the Foam Cement, some water and electricity cards… I had options.
Taking in a deep breath, I took off my mask and pulled up a scarf that I had liberated. Standing up, I rushed across the street as if the devil himself was snapping at my heels, knowing that they had a spotter. Running past the crowd that had been forced to vacate the premises mid-meal, I reached the door and started slapping my hand against it. "Open up! Open the door!" I shouted frantically.
A curtain was shifted to the side to reveal a mean mug that you never wanted to see, period, much less when I was about to get in a fight with them. "Who are you?" He barked through the glass door, and I looked over my shoulder. I made the split-second decision to pull down my scarf to flash my face as an answer.
"They're on their way here, so fucking let me in you prick," I snapped at him, and that apparently did the trick. I was wearing his colors, he saw my face, and I knew about the Blackgaters getting hit. The guy looked at the street for a moment before he nodded and unlocked the door to let me in. The place was a hibachi shop with a dozen people sitting around, armed to the teeth.
Right. I should have asked for backup.
"Where you from?" The guy at the door asked while I looked down, trying to prevent anyone from getting a good look at my face.
"I was put at 6th Street, that apartment? Some guy tossed a canister into the room and knocked everyone out," I said as I walked in, bracing myself for what came next. They were grouped up into threes instead of one big group. So, I had to deal with four groups instead of one.
The guy looked at me, checking outside while the others intently listened in. "Or," he said, "You're a punk kid trying to trick us." He pointed out, locking the door and retrieving a gun from his belt loop. I looked at it and I realized that the other guns were pointed in my direction.
I looked up at the guy for a moment, "Or that, I guess," I conceded as I raised my hands up in surrender. "But it's not what you think," I hastily added when I heard a gun cock. The guy gave me a pointed look that demanded an explanation or there would be consequences. Deadly consequences.
Swallowing thickly, I started to bullshit to save my life, "A couple of guys came up to me dressed in Blackgater colors and they offered me some serious cash to come here and act like I was being chased. I figured it would just be, like, a prank, you know?" I offered as an explanation, making one of them tsk to themselves.
"And you went through with that shit?" He asked, sounding like he didn't believe it for a second.
"Yeah, because it was a whole… 'take the money or else' kind of situation. I figured I would get a couple of smacks, but I can handle that for a couple of grand. But now I'm starting to think I'm in some serious shit -- like I'm just a distraction or something," I hastily added, and it was like a jolt of electricity went through them. The gangsters tensed, going to the windows, so I turned my attention to the guy that had opened the door. "I figure you aren't going to let me go?"
"Not a chance," the guy said as he strode forward and grabbed me by the back of my jacket and practically lifted me off the ground. It wasn't just that I was underweight, but because he was that stupidly strong, with biceps the size of my head. "You're getting locked up until we sort this out. If you're who you say you are, then I hope you got paid upfront. If you're not, then you'll be getting more than a few smacks, punk." He said, hauling me back through the kitchen area towards a freezer.
The others chuckled amongst themselves as he took me to the backroom, leaving us alone. He reached out to grab the handle, and as he wrenched it free, I acted. Murder Weapon appeared in my hand, materializing on the other side of my glove as I pivoted in his grip when he tried to throw me into the walk-in freezer.
The bat smashed into the side of his head, forcing him to drop to a knee in a daze. He wasn't unconscious, though. Gritting my teeth, I ripped myself free of his grip and wound up my swing before nailing him in the head again. Blood splatter flew, covering the interior of the door before the guy dropped inside of the freezer. I didn't think he was dead, but… but it wasn't like I hadn't killed before.
Closing the door, I rushed off to the other side of the kitchen and hid behind a prep-table to plot out my next move. Infiltration hadn’t exactly been the plan, but adapt and survive. It was just a question of what next? I clutched Murder Weapon and shoved aside all thoughts wondering if the item had lived up to its name once again.
The kitchen door opened, “Joey, what-” another Blackgater started before cutting himself off. It was only the one, so I had better odds than I would, but I still tensed when he stopped talking. Had he seen some clue as to what happened? That worry was quickly put to rest when he let out a sigh as he walked towards the walk-in freezer. “Seriously? You couldn’t keep your hands off of him for more than a minute?”
As he talked, I circled around to the other side of the counter to sneak up behind him. It registered what he was saying, but I ignored it as I approached with Murder Weapon in hand. Every member of the Blackgaters was a convicted felon, and there were bound to be a rapist or three among their numbers.
The guy opened the freezer door, and in that same moment I slammed Murder Weapon into the back of his head. A solid thunk rang out in the backroom before the he fell forward on top of the other guy. Both of their heads were bleeding profusely, and I could only assume that two more deaths had been added to the tally.
Swallowing thickly, I closed the door. That trick wouldn’t work again. Two people going back and none coming back up? They would know something was up.
Taking out a card, I sent it flying to the black swinging door. With a silent command, a thick oil slick covered the ground around the door. I sealed Murder Weapon back into the deck and unsealed my silenced pistol. I doubt it would prevent everyone in the store from figuring out that I was shooting a gun, but it could prevent everyone outside of the building from figuring it out.
Now… I just had to lure them in.
Crouching low, I walked to the prep area and grabbed a pot before tossing it on the ground. From there, I took a position by the table, pointing my gun at the door. And I accepted what I was about to do.
Three guys rushed into the back room, only to slip on the floor and come crashing to the ground. They shouted, attempting to scramble up, but my gun bucked in my hand. I aimed center mass, hitting them in the chest as they tried to get up. Blood mixed in with the slick, as they tried to save their own lives. And maybe they could, but I didn’t make it easy for them.
The remaining seven in the front area were alerted now. I rushed forward and scooped up a rifle from one of the guys who was trying to stop the bleeding that came from a hole in his chest. “It’s the kid! He’s here!” The guy shouted as I combined the rifle with my spare silencer. At that moment, I wished that people died as fast as they did in the movies.
I cursed underneath my breath as I pulled the lever on the gun to make sure that it was loaded, only to discharge a bullet with the act. Then I sent a pepper spray smoke bomb underneath the door and filled the dining area with painful smoke.
With my mask in place, I pushed through the door as I shouldered my rifle. The smoke was thin enough that I could see, but they couldn’t. I had upped the amount of pepper spray in it, so they were in pain. They gasped and cursed, rubbing at their eyes, but that didn’t stop them from pulling the trigger to blindly fire at my last known position.
Only I wasn’t there. Using the gunfire as cover, I took aim with my rifle and pulled the trigger. The gun bucked against my shoulder hard enough to hurt, shaking my entire body. But it did what I wanted it to. The guy I was aiming at went down, clutching at his chest while I shifted targets. And I fired again. And again. And again. The gun still sounded like a clap of thunder, even with the silencer, and as the chorus of blind gunfire was snuffed out one by one, it became more noticeable.
One fired at me, tearing through a hibachi stove and a bullet slammed into my chest. It felt like I had just been hit by a truck when every breath in my lungs expelled as I was knocked on my ass. I gasped for a moment, but adrenaline surged in my veins. I crawled to the side, bullets flying overhead and tearing through my flimsy cover. Clearing the edge, I took aim with my gun one last time and pulled the trigger.
The exchange lasted only a brief few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime as the hibachi restaurant was plunged into total silence.
“Shit,” I cursed, a hand going to my chest to feel a hole in my jacket. I was so glad that I wore my bulletproof vest now. Shit. Pushing myself up onto two feet, I looked around to see the bodies. Some alive, but most of them were dead. Even if they didn’t know it yet. It was unavoidable with guns. But something like that was going to draw the attention of the cops. I had to get out of here. I didn’t even have time to search the place for loot.
Knowing that the front door was a no go, I rushed to the back room to find the back door. Spotting it, I slammed through it as I tore off my jacket. Almost as soon as I did, I heard sirens in the distance. It was impossible to tell if they were coming for me or not, but it felt like there was no one else in the world that they could be coming for.
Pressing a hand to my ear, I said, “I’m heading back. It’s getting too hot to continue.”
“Pussy,” Revy returned, while Tifa just confirmed that she was heading back as well. Sealing off my jacket and my suit, I put on my bum outfit as I rushed through the back alley. With a hat tucked over my face, I spotted a manhole cover and wasted no time climbing down and taking the long way back.
Sometimes being paranoid was a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t as big of a pain in the ass as prison would be.
…
Hot water flowed over me as I stood in the shower some hours later, the water so hot that it was near scalding. For a makeshift set up, it was a pretty good one, if I said so myself. The faucets were repurposed from the dump, and so was the boiler. The latter was improved over time until it could pump out gallons of hot water all day, every day, with the temperature never dipping. That had been important to me.
It also helped that everyone else enjoyed it. Though, there was a small issue that our water consumption would inevitably be noticed by the city. So we would have to figure out how to set up a reservoir and how to stealthy fill it.
But that was a problem for another day.
I had been right about the bruising. On my shoulder, there was a brownish-yellow spot. It was just tender and it didn't really impede my motion, so it was fine, but I was probably holding the gun wrong since I didn't think that was normal. On my chest, though, was a dark bruise from where that bullet slammed into me. But, on the bright side, I did learn that my suit itself was bulletproof because it had survived the hit.
The events of the day replayed in my mind, and as promised, now that it was done I couldn't stop myself from thinking about what-ifs. From the very start, I wondered what I could have done or said to avoid this, but, in the end… I was the one that set this in motion. I chose to put us on a collision course with the Blackgaters and I chose to escalate the situation.
Because if I hadn't, the 7th Heaven would have withered away. The people came down here to feel safe because the world up top was too harsh and uncaring. If it was more of the same down here, then why bother?
I pushed my hair out of my face and turned off the nozzle. The shower was filled with steam and I was sure I had washed off the stink of the sewers. Drying myself off with a towel, I wrapped it around my waist before I shrugged on a loose shirt and left the shower. After a long day, I was ready for it to be over.
"Vergil," Revy greeted boredly as she leaned dangerously far back in a chair outside. Her gaze was firmly planted on the gangsters that still remained in 7th Heaven. They were bound, stripped, and gagged. We put them out of sight as much as we could, but there was only so much room. "What are we going to do with that lot?"
I looked at them for a moment and I wasn't any closer to an answer than I had been prior. "We let them sweat a bit. We hit the Blackgaters hard," I had hit the fewest fronts at seven. Tifa got ten and Revy hit thirteen. That was most places that had been marked on the maps. "So we need to see how they react and see what the gangs do too. After they sweat it a bit, we see if they have anything else that they want to tell us to sway our decision."
"And after that?" Revy pressed, knowing that I was stalling on giving a solid answer.
Glancing at her, I saw that her gaze was hard and sharp as a knife. "Then we do what we have to do," I told her and that seemed to satisfy her.
"That's what I wanted to hear, oh Captain my Captain," Revy said, lighting a cigarette before giving me a two-finger salute. I just sighed in response as I waved her off and I walked towards the train car. Too many pieces were in the air to plot out a solid plan. I wasn't Batman, who could make reality warp to fit my plans so that the slightest variable perform exactly as I wanted them to.
I needed to see how the Blackgaters would react before I did anything. I needed to see how much they knew as well -- did they suspect us? The gangsters never went back to wherever they came from, but the leaders could just assume they had been taken out in transit. The smaller gangs also needed to start chomping at the bit to tear into the Blackgaters while they were left reeling from this sudden attack.
"I'll know in the morning," I said, pulling a curtain to the side to reveal my room. By the morning, I would know how a few of the chips fell -- how much the Blackgaters suspected us, how they would react to getting hit, if the chum was enough to attract a school of piranhas and if we could afford to go out again and hit some other places.
Sitting down on my bed, I let out a small sigh as I leaned back. My bed wasn't particularly comfortable, but it was fine enough. A hand reached out to my deck, the cards flying into my hands. I sorted them with a flick of my wrist so that the newest cards were on the bottom of the deck, allowing me to view them.
Unsealing one, I opened it up to find drugs and money. A few kilos of cocaine, and a fair amount of money. Shifting through the duffel bag, I picked out the money and added it to my money card. I watched as my current total was increased by fifty-five thousand dollars, bringing it to two hundred and sixty-six thousand. Just over a quarter of a million dollars, though a fair bit of that was reserved for Sainthood Flowers.
Leaving the duffel bag to the side, I unsealed another card and sorted through the drugs and money in it. The process repeated itself five more times -- which was part of the reason I hit fewer fronts. I spent time searching for drugs and money.
In the end, I had one duffel bag packed with various types of drugs -- weed, cocaine, pills, and other drugs that made me feel filthy touching. And my money counter hit just over four hundred thousand dollars, almost enough to double my stash.
"I really was making money wrong," I muttered to myself as I sealed the duffel bag away. Can't believe that I wasted two weeks, got shot twice, for chump change. But violence wasn't something you jumped into headfirst. If it was, then there was something wrong with your head. Ever since I came here, my toes were being dipped into the seedy underworld of Gotham, each encounter getting me used to the idea of using force… until I could do something like this over a month later. Leaning back, I stared up at the ceiling for a moment before I raised my deck up to look at another card.
My old phone. I had been stuck with what to do with it ever since I reclaimed it.
Unsealing it, it dropped into my hand and I put my passcode in to see a familiar, bland home screen covered in apps. It was a bad habit of mine -- I enjoyed time waster games like gacha games, but I never stuck with them. I did the dailies and whatever, but I always had the same breaking point -- I would save and save and save the special currency for rolls, and if I didn't get what I wanted, then I would drop the game. I would find a new one, and with the welfare phase, they just dumped items and resources on you for doing anything and everything, I would save them, and the cycle would continue.
Ignoring my screen full of apps, I pulled up the photos. I didn't have many. Wasn't much of a picture taker. A conversation with Tifa echoed in my ear as I looked at the photos… before I clicked on the trashcan button. One by one, I started clicking on the photos. Then I clicked delete and with the simple action, the photo section was left bare.
I did up the same with my internet browser -- clicking x on every tab and deleting my search history. The only things lost were of sentimental value, and it was time to let those things go.
Clicking back to the screen, my gaze lingered on the apps, going to delete them too, but a nagging curiosity stopped me. Pulling out my other phone, I pulled up an app store and searched by type. Then by brand names.
Huh. Gacha games weren't a thing. Time wasters like bejeweled existed, though, but no gacha games. At least, not as I knew them.
Before I could think too deeply at that odd change, a shadow was cast on the curtain to my room. "Vergil?" Tifa spoke softly, standing on the other side. I perked up, tossing my phone to the side. “Can we talk?”
Oh… shit. Every man learned to fear those words, and I was no exception.
“Er, yeah,” I said, bracing myself for the conversation to come. Those words managed to conjure up the worst-case scenarios. “Come on in?” What did we have to talk about -- well, we had plenty to talk about, but what was Tifa going to say? Tifa pushed the curtain to the side and absolutely every thought in my head went right out the window when I saw her. She wore her usual attire -- white tank top, mini skirt, thigh highs, though she didn’t wear her gloves.
Or the black sports bra underneath the tank top.
Pebbled nipples strained against the thin white fabric, and without the sports bra compressing them, the tank top seemed smaller than normal as it strained to contain her bust.
I blinked once and hoped that she didn’t notice as I looked up at her, and she definitely noticed. But she didn’t say anything as she closed the curtain behind her. Turning around, she bit her lip as she looked at me, her expression indecisive, so I gestured next to me for her to sit down. “What's up?” I asked as Tifa sat down.
“I… was thinking about today,” Tifa started, leaning back. “Vergil, do you think we did the right thing?”
I had absolutely no clue. I looked away from her, mulling over the question, and I could only offer a shrug. “For us? Yeah, I do,” I told her, glancing up at her to see a small frown tug at her lips.
“For us?” She questioned, and I ran a hand through my hair, gathering my thoughts. I knew what I wanted to say, but saying it was more difficult.
“For us. For 7th Heaven. For everyone out there, and those that are going to come,” I told her and she offered a soft nod before she bumped her shoulder into me.
“This place is ours,” she quoted, her tone faintly teasing. I felt a blush crawl up my neck and that got a giggle out of her, “Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was good. Everyone else did too. The 7th Heaven is ours and we won’t let anyone take it away. I just didn’t think you were one for speeches.”
I let out a small huff as I leaned back against the backboard of the bench that served as my bed, “I’m not. I just had some stuff to get off my chest and you all were there to hear it. That’s all,” I deflected, glancing at her again. Amusement shone in her reddish-brown eyes, the earlier apprehension gone while a slight smile quirked one edge of her lips up. She didn’t say anything for a moment as our eyes met.
Then I leaned in to press my lips against hers, feeling the moment. I felt Tifa’s breath on my cheek as she kissed back, her hand reaching out to pull me closer as we deepened the kiss. Her lips moved at as hesitant pace, letting me take the lead. It felt a bit early to stick my tongue in her mouth, so for a long minute, we simply kissed before Tifa pulled her head back. There was a blush gracing her cheeks but she seemed pleased.
“I was getting worried I’d have to make every first move, you know,” She pointed out, telling me that she had no doubt in her mind that I was into her. And, to be fair, she shouldn’t have any doubt.
“I’ve been pretty distracted. A reliable source told me that girls like reliable men, so I’ve been trying to be reliable,” I pointed out, resting a hand on the small gap between her thigh highs and her mini skirt. Tifa’s eyes were half-lidded and as she leaned in to resume, I felt her smiling into the kiss. Her lips moved against mine with more confidence as she moved closer, pressing her chest into mine.
My hand on her thigh caressed it, feeling smooth skin underneath as we steadily deepened the kiss. Taking a risk, I licked her bottom lip, requesting permission, and she opened her mouth wider to let my tongue in. It brushed up against hers, and I tasted something sweet. Chocolate. Tifa had been hiding candy. All the while my fingers brushed at the hem of her mini skirt, encouraged by her own hand caressing my arms, or going up to cup my cheek.
Pulling back, Tifa’s chest heaved -- apparently she had forgotten to breathe. I smirked as I leaned in, kissing the edge of her mouth, then her cheek before I left a trail of kisses down her neck. Her hand went to the back of my head, intertwining her fingers with my hair to keep me there as I planted a kiss on her carotid. Small breaths left her, but as I dared to explore further with my hand, my fingers just barely slipping underneath the fabric of her mini skirt, she let out a stifled moan.
“If we’re going to do this, we’ll have to be quiet,” I pointed out, having kissed back up her neck to whisper in her ear. Tifa shivered at my breath hitting her ear. I heard her swallow audibly before she shifted to whisper in my ear.
“And what are we doing?” She asked, and that was a loaded question if I had ever heard one. She seemed content to let me take the lead, but I had absolutely no clue how experienced she was. Worse, I could also see Tifa as the kind of girl that would let me push her into something she wasn’t ready for.
“How about you show me?” I whispered back, reaching up to caress her cheek with a thumb before I placed a kiss on her lips. Her eyes flashed dangerously in the best way possible. She kissed back as she shifted, taking the lead from me and moving to straddle me. My hands found her waist as her hands found my chest, her lips still pressed against mine. Slowly, her hands descended, and in equal measure, my hands began to roam.
They glided over her firm abs and her thighs until it was clear what her destination was when one of her hands landed on my groin. Given that I only had a pair of boxers on, my erection strained against the plaid cotton fabric. Her hand traced it curiously, withdrawing for a split second when it twitched at her touch. Then she caressed it through the fabric with more confidence, marveling at it.
My hands were emboldened by the action. One slid up her stomach, slipping underneath her tank top. I hesitated there, giving her a chance to stop me from straying into forbidden territory. Instead, when her free hand went to mine, she pushed up so they slid underneath her tank top. Taking that as permission, my hand went to her breasts, pushing up her tank top with the action. Tifa moaned as my thumb and pointer finger found her pebbled nipple.
I had to pull back to look at her breasts -- her tanktop was pushed up, revealing the sizable pale orbs capped with rosy pink nipples. Her breasts were huge, borderline obscene, and I seared the sight into memory. My gaze went to hers to find that Tifa’s eyes were clouded with lust, her breathing coming out as breathless pants. Then I leaned in and took one nipple in my mouth, tapping at it with my tongue as I sucked on it lightly. One hand went to her other breast, tweaking it, and her breathing became harsher.
My free hand left the curve of her ass alone to slowly creep up her thigh towards her groin. As I did that, her hands fumbled to slide my erect dick between the flap of my boxers. She gripped it the same moment that my fingers brushed her sex through her cotton panties. Her martial artist’s callouses felt rough on my dick, but she was mindful of them as she stroked me slowly with her fingers.
It throbbed in response, having missed being touched, as I rubbed small circles into Tifa’s groin to stimulate her clit. Between me playing with her nipples and that, judging by the heavy panting in my ear, she was going to cum before I did. Somehow. As the pleasure built in her, her jerking motions became more frantic, making my own orgasm edge closer. I fought it off as much as I could, trying to think of other things, but all I could think of was Tifa's body. How a few drops of sweat dripped down her chest, the shine of spit on her nipples, and how my finger grew damp as I played with her lower lips, soaking through her panties.
My cock throbbed once and I came. Tifa gasped as she felt it flow down her fingers, her motions slowing as she pulled back to look down at my cock that was grasped in her hands. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was parted -- that’s all I could see as the orgasm washed through me. I sighed deeply. It was like every ounce of stress I ever had was flowing out of my body. Happy endings at massage parlors made so much sense now.
“Why is it so thick?” Tifa wondered, looking down at the cum on her fingers. There was a lot of it. Which was part of the reason.
“It’s been a while for me,” I told her, getting her attention by dipping further to caress her lower lips. There was a clear wet spot on the panties, and her breath hitched with the action. “I haven’t… you know, since I arrived in Gotham.”
Tifa actually looked concerned, “A boy once told me that if he didn’t cum in a long enough time, then his balls would pop.” And that got a laugh out of me.
“That sounds like he was just trying to trick you into touching his dick,” I pointed out, and I got a giggle from Tifa as she wiped her hand off. My cock softened slightly, but it remained half chubbed. The body was willing, as was the spirit, it just needed a short break. Thankfully, I knew how to buy that time.
Tifa laughed as well, “That sounds about right… but you didn’t…?” She trailed off, somehow embarrassed by the question as my hands continued to caress her body.
“No, I didn’t. Before the deal, there just wasn’t any time. And after… well, these sheets are pretty thin and I was worried that someone would just walk in.” All men were trained since the first time they put their dick in hand to masturbate in utter silence, but the sound of skin on skin was unmistakable. Especially when you used something to lube it up with. Though that being said, there were more than a few that didn’t let that stop them.
I smiled up at Tifa, “But, I do think I should return that orgasm, Tifa.” I told her, my voice low and husky. Tifa flushed as she smiled, nodding in excitement. My hands went to her skirt and pushed it up, revealing white cotton panties with a small bow on the front. That made her flush all the way down to her toes, more so than seeing her breasts or kissing.
“If I knew you were going to make a move, I would have worn sexy underwear,” she offered as my hands groped at her ass. It felt firm and soft under my fingers. Utterly perfect. I slid down -- it was a bit awkward because of my small room and the positioning, but Tifa realized what I was doing and straightened up a bit.
That got my attention. “Sexy underwear?” I questioned hopefully, looking up at her as I played with the edge of her panties.
“The ones that came with the dress. I figured you made them?” Tifa pointed out, her chest rising and falling as my face neared her crotch.
Huh. “I didn’t mean to, but I can’t say I’m not happy about it,” I admitted. With that, it was time to put my mouth to better use. Using a thumb, I pulled the edge of her panties to the side, hooking them on the other side of her flushed sex. Her pussy was a thin slit, the labia engorged with blood, with a small button of pleasure peeking out from its hood at the top.
Dragging my tongue over her slit, purposely going slow over her clit, I heard Tifa gasp sharply as her hands went to my hair and pulled almost to the point that it was painful. But she didn’t push me away, but rather she pulled me closer, trying to smother me between her heavenly thighs. Thoroughly encouraged, I dove in, lapping at her pussy and tasting her nectar on my tongue -- it was faintly sweet, but for the most part, it lacked an identifiable taste.
My tongue pushed apart her folds, delving inside of her, and her body seemed to tremble above me while her thighs clamped down around my ears. My hands weren’t idle either, caressing her firm ass, ghosting up her spine before reaching up to tweak her glorious breasts. I focused on her clit, listening to her breathing steadily getting harsher even as she tried to keep it down.
Then it hitched and I felt her arousal gush over my tongue as she seemed to curl up into a ball, hunching over as she gripped down tightly on my hair. All the while she trembled, gasping for breath -- she wasn’t quite a squirter, but her juices flowed over my chin, dripping down my neck, and I had the feeling that I wasn’t the only one that went without an orgasm in a while.
“That was amazing,” Tifa breathed, gingerly letting go my hair before she winced on my behalf. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to -- are you okay?” She asked when she realized that she had managed to pull a few hairs out. I wiped off my chin and flashed a smile that got her to blush all the way down to her chest.
However, before I could say anything, a voice interrupted. “Tifa, Vergil -- are you fucking in there?” Revy demanded to know, sounding like she was standing on the other side of the curtain. Tifa went stiff, an expression of object mortification on her face. I guess we hadn’t been quiet enough.
“Something like that,” I answered through gritted teeth. I could feel the moment slipping by and I knew well enough that the mood wasn’t something so easily reclaimed. Especially when it was made abundantly clear that others could hear us.
“Jesus -- finally. I was getting sick of you two making bedroom eyes at each other,” Revy said, her tone thoroughly amused because she knew exactly what she had done. The cockblocking bitch. “But keep it down. I’m trying to sleep.”
Tifa looked down at me with wide eyes. I offered a smile as I moved from between her legs, but when she made to leave, I stopped her with a hand. “Raincheck?” I asked, because I did not want to leave things like this. Tifa smiled before she leaned down to kiss me.
"Stay the night?" Tifa asked, making me look down at what I dared to call a bed. There wasn't even enough room for me.
"I can't promise any legroom, but..." I agreed, Tifa flashing me a smile as she leaned in. Like I expected, there wasn't any legroom. I had to prop myself up on the arm of the bench, only a pillow keeping me from extreme discomfort with Tifa draped over my body, her head on my chest. She was quickly out like a light.
So, at least one of us was comfortable.
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IdeasGuy
pretty much. It'll stop at the point just before Tifa enters, then there will be a link to my fanfiction account if anyone wants to continue the chapter there.
Ezra Melman
So... is this just going to be half length on sb?
