Worlds Asunder (Closed for LordUsagi)

He let her get ahead of him, just enough as if to seem she had caught him by surprise, but secretly to admire her leather clad legs and ass striding away. When she interlaced her hands behind her head it accentuated the curve of her body and he had to do everything to surprise a groan. The side glance and profile was even worse, without the jacket he got a better view of her shape. She looked beautiful, was she enticing him, the smirk the wink, the side profiles, was she doing it on purpose. Her comment about painted clothes. She had to know he would be salivating, was it a tease and offer. He knew if it wasn’t for his own damnable painted on costume he would be on her. Their sweaty bodies enduring another form of activity. She wanted him, she must, didn’t she realize that nothing would be more handsy than hand to hand, their sweating bodies so close together.

“Yes, you get a shower and rest,” he caught up to her, “just don’t use all the hot water, I need to wash up as well.”

If she had any insight or empathy, she would be able to sense she had him, he was turned on by her and his sights were slowly being set.

“Just dump your clothes outside the bathroom, I will put them in the wash.”
 
“I’ll save you some hot water, don’t worry.” A light push to his shoulder and that playful quirk to her mouth.

“I got ‘em, Mr. House Husband.” Jeanine says, reaching past him for the door handle and stepping through, another crass joke flitting through her mind-but she decides to let up on her teasing, at least a little. There’s poking fun and then there’s cruel, and she doesn’t do cruel.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t at least a little amusing, though. And with a final mischievous look she closed the door with a click of the lock.
 
He didn’t reply, he didn’t even have a chance to smirk or to think of a response. There was no response, there was nothing he could say about her comment of a house husband. Did she just mean he was helpful around the house or was it more. She had locked the door, maybe that was a sign, or was it habit.

Either way he decided he had to go and put his suit in the wash. He had genuinely offered and it would seem strange if he forgot to do his own washing now. Heading to the laundry room he stripped off his old costume and dumped it in the more industrial strength machine. Removing his dancers belt he saw for the first time the affect her teasing had on him. Some deep breaths and not straying to thoughts of her would soon take care of that.

With all his heavy protective clothing off he started the cycle, she might be particular with her leathers mixing with his spandex, he thought jokingly.

Separating the other clothing for optimal washing he started the machines and then picked up a towel to cover his now recovering lower body. He sort of had an idea how long Jeanine usually showered for and he hoped to time a meeting between them.

Returning to his room, which she now used, he picked out some ‘practical’ clothes for her. A pair of training shorts that would probably be tight and were a bit short on purpose. But in his defense the young flirty woman at the store suggested they would be what she would wear. She liked to wear his old sweaters so he chose one from his days at Oxford University. It was before his military days and would be a bit smaller than his other ones, before he filled out with muscle.

Then he waited, as if busy in his room, his body still wet from their bout and with the towel riding low, just above his butt and showing the top of his pelvic bone from the front. She would walk in on him, back to her, and thus giving her an out if she wasn’t quite decent.
 
She feels even better now that she’s showered, just a bit of fatigue, a vague feeling of weariness. Definitely pushed it, which isn’t any good-because she’s been in much rougher, tougher, actual fights, she knows her limits. Hell, she’d surpassed them to the point of empty.

Recovering was just going to take longer than she thought, she guesses.

She pats her body dry, a brief glance in the mirror at her own bare faced reflection. Regular ole’ Jeanine gazes back at her, eyes the color of amber with those little flecks of green in them, smooth skin and mauve colored lips.

She briefly considers reapplying the navy blue lipstick, but she’s just going to bed. That’d be silly. She can look like herself every once in a while. No crime against it. She peeks down the hall and doesn’t see Andy anywhere-and then exits the bathroom to head down to the room he’d given up for her-something she never would have asked for but certainly appreciated. Sleeping in the medical room, a place she’d nearly died in-it was more than a little creepy feeling.

~*~

The bedroom door opens and in comes the freshly washed young heroine, partially distracted a moment as she enters in nothing more than a short towel ‘dress’ wrapped around her lithe body. There’s the barest hint of cleavage and the soft swell of her chest, collarbone and shoulders on full display-and those long legs of hers, no horizontal line of her boots to interrupt them this time-the shapely set were smooth, long, and bare to him.

She stops dead with a start, the hand holding the towel closed pressing a little tighter into her chest, eyes a little widened on his state of undress. Color blooms in a blush across her cheeks-she’s not wearing anything either!

Did he do that on purpose? She should have knocked-

“Oh I’m sorry sir-the sauna’s in the next room over.” Her eyes flick to the end of the bed where a sweater was folded up, those green slinky shorts she’d been handed that first interaction. The joke wasn’t much of a recovery-but she waltzes in anyway, because if he HAD done it on purpose, shock value or otherwise-well, she’s not playing victim to any sort of practical joke, thank you very much.

Her face is still burning a little, but she keeps her eyes elsewhere and then her back to him once she hits the bed, snagging the bundle of clothes. “Giving over to picking out what clothes I steal, I see.” She says, a brief glance over her shoulder-and then back to the little pile. "And I -did- leave you some hot water, and...next time, I'll knock." An awkward pause as she decides it'd been an accident and her rudeness that had put them here. She 'coughs'. "Um. Sorry."
 
She wouldn’t have seen his smile, with his back to her, as she stammered for a reply. Her sauna joke wasn’t very good so he knew he had caught her unawares. She also still entered the room, that was a good sign, she could have scampered off.

“No worries, I did give you the room to use,” he turned around, “if you had barged into my study while I was changing that would be all on you.” He grinned, the fact that he was sleeping in his study a lot would make sense that he could change there, but it still was a challenge.

He now stood looking down at her proudly, as if the thought of them being just in towels was nothing to worry about. They were both adults and nothing was showing, although he was a little weary of his stirring loins. But for her to notice that she would have to look down there and it was only just beginning.

“Yes I don’t want you wearing all my favorite clothes,” he was just hoping she didn’t realize he chose them for their slightly more sexiness. “To be honest I expected you to be longer in the shower and maybe use all the hot water.”
 
“You were right to expect it-I like long showers. But I figured I’d do what you asked, because I’m so very generous.” The towel

The hand not holding the towel closed scooped up the clothes.

“But not generous enough-” She said as she half turned, now fully recovering with aplomb. Oh, there was still some color in the young woman’s face-but she had that teasing tone again, the glitter of mischief in those multicolored eyes as she finished her sentence. “-to put on a free show. Sorry Andy~.” The vision of loveliness shifted her weight back to her other heel and vanished, one of those cocky smiles and winking eye all.

~*~

In the laundry room Jeanine finished pulled the sweater down over her naked chest with an almost relieved sigh, tugging the hem just a bit further down over the shorts in case she managed to run into Andy a second time. She can’t believe she’d walked in without knocking. He had been completely naked in there, just a towel-the spandex had been bad enough, but-she shook her head, getting flustered just thinking about it. She tossed the towel in with her other clothes. Well, it’s not like she had been any more dressed. That kind of made it more embarrassing, though.

How’s she supposed to look at him the same now? She’d always remember this. Well, she’d better stop. Blushing and stuttering wasn’t very becoming of sex bomb Blue Blitz, was it? No, not at all.

Squaring her shoulders and giving one last tug on the hem of the sweater, she left the laundry room-and then kind of lost her nerve, pausing to listen for the shower. She can hear it going, so the coast was clear. A new bit of color to her cheeks before she snuck down the hall and back into the bedroom. She would have just stepped-but she needed to conserve and recharge her energy, not use more of it up.

In his empty room she stretched on her way to the bed, banishing her embarrassed shock to the far reaches of her mind, set to forget all about it, darn it.

She climbed onto the blanketed mattress and sat in the middle of it, crossing her legs in a lotus position, resting her hands loosely on her bare thighs and closing her eyes. She imagined that blown glass container, the energy within-and let her mind drift, calling more of it to her and into that imagined vessel.

As always, the world complied, and she drew energy on that which provides.
 
Her comment about a free show had genuinely left him a little flustered and in way too much analysis paralysis, and as such he had forgotten to fully prepare for his refreshing shower.

The fact that she had left him enough hot water for a proper shower was not necessary, Andy decided that a cold shower was probably a better idea. While he leaned against the shower wall and let the cold water wash over his body his thoughts raced about the young woman he had met a few weeks back.

It was only when he had finished drying himself off that he realized he was missing some clothes. His ruse to be caught by her was all very well, but now he would have to go back and apologize for disturbing her, while he fetched some clothing.

When he knocked on her door, he had a pair of brief, that were far less modest than his spandex suit, so he had wrapped a towel around his waist. He had also remembered to snag a T-shirt before heading to the showers, so that sat snuggly around his torso..

He waited for her to invite him in, just so it seemed like he had learned and was also embarrassed about what had happened earlier.
 
Blitz’s brow furrowed a little, the glowing fireflies of light dimming as they drifted to the blown glass container. “You can come in-” She says a little thickly and without opening her eyes, still caught in the drift. It makes her voice sound like she’d just woken up, but he’d see her in the center of his bed when he opens the door.

She doesn’t really think about it or entirely register he was coming in, consider that he had forgotten something or might be looking to talk to her-not initially. It always takes her a minute. To ‘wake up’, and she’s not really trying to-at first.

The pinpoints of light brighten back to normal and again drift into the blown glass container.

She hears a drawer pull open in the far distance, and having already forgotten about the knock or the invite to come in she suddenly remembers, and remembers Andy had come back in.

~*~

“So.” Everything she’d been imagining fades to nearly invisible against the black backdrop. She’s zoned back in, hadn’t wanted to rudely ignore him.

“Any cool stories for any of those scars?” She opens one eye-and finds he’s back in just a towel! Both eyes pop open and that cocky smile lights on her lips. “Showing some leg, Andy?” She teases, the image vanishing as she unfolds her long legs out of that lotus position, stretches-he’d see that Blitz wasn’t wearing a bra. She’d been fixing to go to bed, after all. Her breasts were plenty lifted and perky, it was only really noticeable due to the movement. In that usual casual disregard, the young heroine doesn’t even think about it.

She shifts to all fours and lays down on her stomach, head resting on her crossed arms. Her knees bend so that her crossed ankles are raised behind her casually. Relaxed, looking for a story. The young woman was an alluring mixture of cute-and incidentally sexy, wearing his sweater and with so much skin on display with those long, shapely legs of hers. The hem of the sweater had naturally ridden up to the small of her back, the little green mesh shorts doing nothing to hide the curve of that pert bottom. But then again, he'd mostly known about that. Her costume included leather pants, after all.
 
“It seems, Jean Jeanie,” he turns to face her, no longer concerned about modesty, “that you are showing way more shapely leg than I am.”

His eyes followed her legs from the crossed ankles to tight green meshed bottom, to emphasize his point. He had been thinking about her in the shower as well as his plans, and all that had led to a certain amount of arousal. Although he did not display himself proudly, he no longer hid behind a turned back or hanging towel. He could feel his hardening manhood would be quite noticeable if she cared to look.

“But if you would like, I can remove the towel, so that we are equal in the amount of leg showing.” His emphasis on the word dropped a hint of a double meaning.

He had purposely avoided answering her question, he was calling her out. She was flirting so he would flirt back in his more direct way. He would gladly answer her question, in fact some of the stories behind the scars would make for interesting conversation, and even cautionary tales. But that was for later. Now he was challenging her and focusing his attentions to what he wanted.

He didn’t expect her to make a move or to even drop hints, but what he was telling her was that he was not one of the young men she had hung out with before. He didn’t shy away from the teasing or flirting, he was willing to force the game down its path and she had better be sure she knew what was happening.
 
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“It seems, Jean Jeanie,”

That nickname again, and Blitz decides she kind of likes it. But the comment about her own show of leg earns him a raised eyebrow. “Aaaand who’s the dirty old man that dressed me, Andy?” A laugh and that teasing, cocky smirk again.

“But if you would like, I can remove the towel, so that we are equal in the amount of leg showing.”

The young woman blinks, the curve to her lips dimming a watt. She tips her head and a bit of a furrow comes to her brow, parsing that out. That was...that was awfully direct, wasn’t it? Not flustered or harmless teasing back, but...well, she doesn’t know what. She feels like he’s broken the rules to their game, somehow.

Or maybe she’s reading him wrong? He’d delivered that so seriously-with...intent? Her heart picks up it's pace a little.

Jeanine slowly shifts backwards out of that relaxed lupine position, straightening up before sitting back on her calves. Subconsciously hiding those legs. There’s still the expanse of smooth, shapely thigh-one of which her left hand smooths over absently. Her multicolored (green with flecks of gold and amber in this lighting) eyes study his face for a moment, waiting for a joke to come-but it doesn’t, and then she looks away to the sidewall with a bit of a puzzled frown. Her graceful fingers lift to thread through her dark red hair, distractedly braiding it over her shoulder.

“Now...didn’t anybody ever teach you not to work for free, Andy?” She tries instead, working off of her ‘free show’ comment from earlier. The dark red locks twist around her fingers as she winds the divided three sections together absently, the bit of a cocky smile again as she recovers from the tone shift. "I don't exactly have a bunch of dollar bills to tuck into your waistband."
 
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Even when she calls him out on being the dirty old man who ‘dressed her’, she does it in such a way that it stirs the beast. He can feel himself hardening, straining against the material of his underwear.

Look down woman, look down, he thinks, look at what you are doing to me. You are playing a dangerous game and you don’t seem to want to relent. Perhaps it is naivety or just oblivion to what you are doing, or maybe you are so used to your teasing never leading to consequences.

He almost spoke out aloud, you are poking the bear and the bear will bite back.

He admires the way she curls back into a seated position. Is she becoming self conscious and aware, is she purposely hiding her form as a sign she doesn’t want this to go any further.

But then she teases about a free show and not having the an abundance of bills to pay for it. A kick back to an earlier tease and a new one, and the beast stirs again in his loins.

“I think Jeanie, I would be worth a lot more than a few dollar bills,” he turns his back to her and continues to look for something in his cupboard.

Letting his towel slip off and drop to the floor, he smiles to himself. He is not naked underneath, and the underwear he wears is nothing you wouldn’t see on a builboard or an advert, except for the front, where his larger than average package is hardening and beginning to strain.

He gives her a few moments to admire his muscled back and backside. Sneak a peek if you want to Blue, no judgement. Then he slowly turns his head, plenty of time for her to look away, if she was admiring.

“But for you, the most famous and glamorous of the League,” he grins at her, “I would do it for free.”
 
“I think Jeanie, I would be worth a lot more than a few dollar bills,”

He returns to form and her vague sense of uncertainty dissipates-but does leave her a little curious about that brief tone shift. Wondering at it, at least a little.

“That’s the spirit-and you’re not wrong!” She’d seen him earlier. Enough to note the muscles of his back and chest, the scars. Not that his costume had hidden much in the first place. Or that shirt-!

He drops the towel, and even with his back to her the heroine’s face brightens in a furious blush as she falls backwards onto her ass proper. Well, she’d maybe known this too in his painted on costume-but his ass matched the rest of him. She flails back a little to grab at his pillows, hugging one to her chest to hide her face with a muffled, feminine ‘outraged’ sound-and then laughter-while the other one she hurls in his direction, right at his back where it’d thump harmlessly and hit the floor.

“But for you, the most famous and glamorous of the League. I would do it for free.”

He’d just beaten her at her own game, upped the ante enough even she was embarrassed and blushing. Blue Blitz doesn’t give up that easy, though-she could have teleported right out of there, but the heroine remains.

“Well with perks like that, maybe everyone should take up the job!”

It makes for a decent enough image-she was propped up on what remained of the pillows, one hugged to her chest and hiding face, and her knees together, long legs angled to one side. Her heels were drawn close to the hem of those shorts-and the curved edge of the bottom of each buttock. It said something about a woman that she could be half obscured by a pillow and still manage to be sexy. All the former did was add an element of cute, a sign she wasn’t quite as worldly as her body or her teasing might have one believe.
 
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He slowly turned to face her, his blood fully up and straining against the confines of the underwear. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure how far her teasing had lead before, but it would not be hard for her to mistake his arousal, or not at least see it.

“You are right,” he said as he stalked towards her, he knew what he wanted to do, it may mean he will have to force the issue.

There are only two choices in his mind. She either puts an end to the teasing with a firm no, or she sees just how riled up she has mad him.

“You dont need to wear a revealing costume to look good.”

His hand reaches down and snags one of her ankles and pulls her towards him. It would seem aggressive but he had prepared her for this, or at least he was preparing her. She knew how to fight, how to use her powers when things took an unexpected turn.
 
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”You are right,”

There it is again-something serious to his tone, a low rumble of-maybe warning? Breaking the rules again, but it sounds like he was leaving and she’s about to toss out a goodnight and another teasing remark-but his steps are coming closer, not heading for the door. Hold up-

“You don’t need to wear a revealing costume to look good.” He finishes, and just as she begins to pull the pillow away, brow furrowed in slight confusion-he snags her ankle and pulls her sharply to the edge of the bed, reeling her in towards him. There's a tempting bounce to those youthful, unrestrained breasts beneath the fabric of his sweater. Blitz sits up, clear surprise in those widened multicolored eyes and slightly parted plush lips. That fetching blush across her cheekbones darkens yet further, the blanket a little rumpled where she’d been pulled across it. The heroine’s ‘infamous’ legs were on either side of him, bent at the knee and dangling over the side of the bed-the inside of her knees brushing his hips, nearly. He’s warm.

Her hand flies up to his chest on reflex but she doesn’t push on him in any way-and the skin of her palm is soft and warm, those graceful fingers tense against his t shirt covered chest.

“H-hold on a second, stud-” Nervous laughter but the teasing flippancy isn't quite there. He’s hard and the pair of briefs do nothing to hide that, he’d never actually gotten around to putting on pants. She’s not the most worldly of people-she’d grown up in a pocket dimension with her brother and her parents, insulated and protected until she’d fled only two years ago-but she knows enough to know when a man was aroused or not-and Andy was definitely aroused. Her heart beats even faster in her chest. No one has ever been so bold, and it’s both intimidating and-exciting? The realization mixes with her own shock and curiosity-Jeanine doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know, and while she could scramble backwards and teleport out of here, or call a full stop to things-she trusts Andy, he wouldn't hurt her, he's a hero-she doesn’t, even as compromising a position they were both suddenly in, weeks of teasing and banter apparently coming to a head in a way Jeanine had never, ever expected it to.

Not from mild mannered Andy of all people, holy shit.
 
“No....this stud is not holding back,” he smiled as he looked into her eyes, “the Jean Jeanie is going to get her wish.” He didn’t know if all Blue Blitz dreamed of was being fucked by a horny man, but she was not backing away and it was obvious where this was heading.

His hands reached down to touch her knees, the skin was soft and smooth, still youthful, beautiful and desirable. Slowly he traced his hands up thighs, the touch of her skin stirring him even more. His eyes never left hers. He was looking for fear or hesitation in the amber flecked whirlpools. They were close and he could smell her, a sweet apple blossom smell. Would her skin taste like apples, would her sweet, almost innocent, taste like apples or like the hidden desire he was sure she had.

He smirked at her as he imagined his tongue hungrily devouring those folds. He was horny now and a long few months of a dry spell was about to be sated. But she was different, her tight innocence would have to be coaxed more. He let out a deep breath of lust, although he had been prepared to make the move on her. His breath would smell freshly brushed and rinsed and perhaps give away that not every thing was as accidental as it seemed.

His hands left her skin, just before reaching the shorts which had been dragged across the bed and were now riding high. Each hand cupped a breast, feeling their weight through his sweater before he pushed her back.

Her breasts, like the skin of her legs, were perfect, a nice firm handful size. They would look perfect in a tight spandex costume and even better in some tight nightwear which he would have to find for her.

Andy knew now that from the first time he had seen her on the screen he had lusted over her. She was the most beautiful woman he had seen and her cockiness and flirting had stirred the animal inside him. When she first got there his thoughts had only been of protecting her and helping her recovery. But over the passing weeks, she had awoken a desire and a lust in him, something that he would struggle to contain now, but something that was also awaking the hero in him.

Yes maybe it was hard to imagine himself as the sleeper hero who had been awoken and was ready to save the world, when all his thoughts were about how hard he was going to fuck her. But wether it was a need to impress her with his heroism, that would bring her back to his bed, or youthful determination and will, overriding his jaded skepticism, he felt reborn. How could he not, the worlds most desirable was spread out before him. He was probably about to fulfill almost every man’s fantasy.

“Time for your free show...but what follows, your body will pay for,” he grinned. Yes Blue Blitz, I am not going to make love to you, I am going to fuck you.

Slowly he slipped the briefs down his hips and let his manhood spring free, it was a tease, just like the stripper she had earlier joked he was. But the look in his eye, the determination on his lips and the soft growl when his restraint was released, said, this is no longer a tease. He gave her a few seconds, if she wanted, to inspect what was coming for her. Andy like a lot of men was proud of the monster in his pants, but like few he was deservedly so.

His shaft sprung from a bush of thick groomed hair, the few grey hairs, a reminder that was old enough to be her father. He was above average in length and, more importantly (or so he had heard) girth. The only complaints he had ever received had to do with jaw discomfort during oral sex.
 
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“No....this stud is not holding back,”

Holy shit.

“The Jean Jeanie is going to get her wish.”

“Don’t genies grant the wishes?” Their banter, still. That comfortable familiarity-it’s there, but now he’s standing between her legs in his underwear and a flimsy shirt, looking at her like a hungry predator might eye a rabbit.

His hands are warm, too, touching first at her knees-safe enough, right?-and then smoothing upwards on her thighs. Her heart rate picks up even more. There’s no way he’s still playing whatever game they’d been running-if he was, he’s cheating.

Blitz’s fingers tighten against his warm chest, balling up a bit of his shirt in her graceful hand-the one that could form forcefields out of nothing, break the laws of physics with reality bending distortions of space, and, of course, punch people the old fashioned way. Her other one had drawn back to the hem of the ridden up shorts, just in front of her hip and at the top of one shapely thigh-fingers gripping the material a moment, subconscious at work.

She wishes he’d kiss her.

Whoa, Jeanine-that’s hardly professional- You know you’re a tease when you even tease yourself.

She doesn’t quite seem to know what to do even as he stares down into her eyes, a smirk she’s not sure she likes-or should at least make a crack about-and her teeth briefly worrying at her lower lip-before she jumps a little when he palms her chest through his sweater, a sharp intake of air before he pushes her back down on the bed. She has no idea what she’s doing here, every idea of what she’s doing here, and no idea what had gotten into him, if anything-for that matter, what had gotten into her? Her face is hot enough she wouldn’t be surprised if it caught fire.

One of her hands wraps loosely around the wrist attached to the hand on her shoulder while the other snags the hem of his sweater and tugs it down a little just out of some embarrassed reflex of modesty-she’s not wearing anything under this thing, she’d been going to bed-

“Time for your free show...but what follows, your body will pay for,”

“Then it isn’t free-! Andy! Are you crazy?” It’s almost as if she hadn’t expected him to actually disrobe, eyes widening with the shocked realization he wasn’t teasing at all. Her knees press against his bare hips as she instinctively tries to close her legs, makes an attempt to sit up, but for all Blitz’s Godlike abilities-she’s just a woman beneath them, no super strength, nothing. Hell, she can’t even teleport if someone was holding onto her and she couldn’t ‘step’ or at least lean into The Other. He’s easily keeping her pinned to the bed, and some part of her likes it. Did that make her some kind of whore? The social mores of this dimension were hypocritical and kind of all over the place, she’s honestly not sure-or sure she cares.

And the size of him! She’s not some kind of penis connoisseur, she has no idea about hardly any of this-as evidenced by the brush of heat across her cheeks now turned to a heated flush, one that was moving down her neck and chest. She'd done this exactly once, and she didn't remember most of it-damned New Years party and spiked punch-

“Th-that is not going to fit-”
 
A low chuckle escaped his lips, “you know, that was the first compliment you have given me since we met.”

He looked down at his own aching manhood, it’s head swollen with lust and glistening with the desire he intended to ram into her. He grinned, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he intended to see how well it would fit.. Her comment had told him all he needed to know, she was not a virgin, but more innocent than some sensationalist reporters would say, and more importantly she was maybe a little excited about what was about to happen.

Then the truth of that dawned on him. She was a woman he had thought about, and fantasized about since he met her. She was young, a tease and probably tight and inexperienced, and he was horny as hell and his balls pretty backed up. He would do well to make this last any longer than his first time all those year back.

He had to put that into the back of his mind, he couldn’t disappoint her, not the beautiful, cute Blue Blitz that had been winding him up for weeks now. Talking of winding him up, he knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do.

“You talk too much, say things when you should act,” he reached up to the side of her head and holding her gently he brought his lips down onto hers. He had intended it to be a more aggressive kiss, letting her know he was in charge, which he was, but her innocent expression and comments, made him kiss those sweet blue lips with a gentleness that was not raging in his loins.

He did use his dominance to loom over her, to push her body back onto the bed, entrapping her, making sure that she could feel his hardness nestled against her mesh protected mound. But soon gentleness became a vigor, as he trapped her body against the bed, his kisses urgent and his hardness pressing against her.
 
His hand slips off her shoulder and frames her face before he kisses her-and Blitz was immediately distracted by the warmth of his lips, the hand fisted in his shirt loosening some.

Until he presses into her. She makes a surprised gasp and there’s an involuntary buck of her hips, thighs tightening on either side of his hips-and he takes advantage of it with a harder kiss, grinding into her through the mesh shorts.

He’s hot, harder than she would have thought entirely possibly and pinning her to the bed with his larger body, chest to chest even as she squirms beneath him. Her heart was racing and she half feels like she should scramble out of here, call a stop to things-but she can’t. She doesn’t entirely want to, not really-

But were they really going to do this? They’re really going to do this. And talk too much?! Well hell, maybe-talking had apparently gotten her into this situation.
 
He sensed her gasp and felt her thighs tightening. Did he even sense her returning his kiss, maybe, or maybe it was just his hopefulness. The loosening of her grip on his shirt, all this drove him forward, told him she was not opposed to what was happening. He pulled away from the kiss, looming over her, smiling with desire.

Reaching down he grabbed the hem of the sweater on both sides and pulled it up, as if to pull the sweater from her body. But because she was not ready for it and her hand was trying to hold the sweater down, her arms got somehow caught up and entangled in the sweater that was now covering her face. This reaching for the sky caused her body to arch and caused her to grind against his now achingly hard cock. It also did wonders for her perky full breasts, not that there was anything wrong with them to begin with.

“Magnificent.” He might have been horny and his voice filled with lust, but there was true admiration in his voice.

Her breasts were a plump handful each and rounded nice on the bottom, perky, with a youthful bounce as he freed them and with pink tipped nipples that he later would find matched her inner folds. He suspected with his experience, maybe just a C cup.

His one hand reached up to cup the one breast, gently at first with his thumb flicking her nipple. Because she was now struggling against her sweater bonds his second hand was free. That slowly glided over her flat stomach towards her shorts, and under them.

What his hand encountered drove the desire in his hand over her breast. He fondled it roughly, almost mauling with desire as his other hand encountered the soft down of pubic hair and the tingle of moisture on her nether lips.

“Now I will know the answer to the much sort after question...is Blue Blitz natural.”
 
“Hey!” A feminine sound of dismayed protest from within the confines of the flipped up sweater, his hand holding the hem and her wrists firmly against the bed. If she’d been blushing before, now she was turning crimson-she struggled with him, pulling on her captured hands with an arch of her back and a bit of a bounce to her youthful breasts, an incidental grind against him that drew a different sort of muffled noise.

This wasn’t funny anymore-he palms her breast before trailing downwards over the soft skin of her stomach-Jeanine gives another sharp tug at her wrists and bucks against his hand, a brief flail of those supple long legs before he releases her to more roughly fondle her breast-allowing her to at least pull the sweater over her head, dark red hair a little mushed and half out of its earlier braid. She tries to put her arms down to cover herself back up-but the sweater was behind her head and catches at her arms.

God dammit-

“Now I will know the answer to the much sort after question...is Blue Blitz natural.”

Jeanine’s eyes flash. “I don’t dye my hair!” She bursts, a sore point. Darn it, this color was all hers, thank you very much, and-
 
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He laughed at that, Her indignation at being thought of as a fake redhead. She could have protested, said you will never find out. But instead she challenged him, she was grinding against him, she was wet. Perhaps not as wet as she needed to be. But they both knew what was happening and on different levels, he surmised, they both wanted it. He wanted her, more than he had ever wanted a woman in a long time, and he also wanted to teach her that her suggestive tone had consequences.

His fingers probed her mound. “So many women shave...finally a fiery bush to match her nature.”

His hands finally released their fondling and slipped behind each knee and slowly he brought them back up, straightening her legs as he did so. When his hands reached her ankles, they each gripped firmly. How he truly had her trapped, her arms encased in his sweater and him holding a firm grip on her legs. She was truly at his mercy and he wanted her to know that there was no going back.

Reaching down with a sudden movement he grabbed the waistband of her shorts on either side and pulled them up and managed to free them from one leg before the other side snagged on her foot.

Jeanie finally managed to free herself of the sweater, but not without consequences. Her struggling arched her back and besides presenting her perfect breasts, it caused her now naked flesh to grind against him.

It was too much for him and pushed he’s legs apart and leaned over her, pinning her thighs against her body. Grabbing her now free arms he forced those against the side of her body. With her arms now held down on either side of her body, her knees pinned under his arms and his weight fully over her, he entered her with a satisfied grunt.
 
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"Nevermind that-" Jeanine protested-her body was hot, and her heart hammered as his hands smoothed down her legs again. She wants to be touched and she knows that was maybe wrong, that she shouldn't be here or allow it-but she's curious and aroused despite herself.

She had had zero intent of sleeping with him, had always been something of a tease-but now that he had taken matters into his own hands she finds that she -does- want it, want him, and the easy comradierie and casual banter had somehow spiked into a bubbling heat low in her belly that she hadn't really felt before.

And then he ripped the mesh shorts off of her, revealing she was indeed a natural born redhead, tabloids be damned-and the sudden exposure, the proximity of their sexes-it renews her earlier struggle, hands catching at the fabric of the sweater and clawing the damn thing off-an arch of her back and an incidental but delicious grind against his cock that makes her jump a little, a feminine noise of aroused distress. He's -hot- against her clit, hot and hard and-oh, hell.

She yanks the sweater off, finally-but before she can do anything with those hands he's got a hold of her wrists again as he leans over her, pinning her arms down on either side of her. His eyes were completely consumed with predatory lust and they pin her just as surely as his body was. The backs of her thighs were pressed against his chest and his arms were just behind her knees, trapping her there-and then he pulls his hips back and-

"Oh!". Her eyes widened as he sank partway into her, a shallow breath tinged with discomfort. Her hot, slickened, tight inner muscles spasm around him, as tight as a fist. He would meet resistance, be unable to proceed on the first stroke, she was so tight.

Jeanine's breathing was off and ragged, a shift beneath his body, another arch of her back-that causes those perfect breasts to shift. She's pinned, his hips hovering over her angled pelvis. He's too big. She'd tried to tell him but he-and so -hot-. Entirely too hot. She can feel the blood pulse through him and against the walls of her tight canal. He feels wider than the space between her legs almost.

"Andy-" Wants something. She wants. There's an instinctive, slight rock of her hips in what little she can move them and it makes her gasp as he slid another centimeter further, the fullness uncomfortable but -good- in a way, his thickness pressed against the roof of her sex.

Oh, she wants something alright- she's just not sure what to ask for, what it -is-.
 
He lets out a long grunt, she is so tight, not quite ready, especially for a man as large as him. He had expected this, but not quite to this extent. He knew now that as much as she had not protested she had not fully expected him to proceed. At least she would realize that her teasing had consequences that they both couldn’t control, if she continued, this is were it would lead.

“Jeanie...” a loud grunt as her body allowed him to slip further in, “you are so tight.”

She would probably feel victorious at that, she had said he was too big. But at the moment he felt like the luckiest man on earth. It wasn’t that he was fucking a woman half his age, a beautiful one at that. It helped, it made him all the more eager, but she could have been his age. It was that he was fucking the one woman in America that every man desired. She was so beautiful yet cute, sexy and desirable, so innocent and tight yet accommodating and mysterious. She had teased and flirted and now they were going to fuck.

He heard her soft voice saying his name, a question or maybe even a demand, but most importantly not a denial.

He looked down at her, into her eyes. He knew she probably felt a little trapped, she was held almost immobile beneath him, open for him to take. For someone who had so much freedom to move, it was probably a little scary, especially because he knew the look on his face was a certain kind of predatory desire.

With a little adjusting shift he pulled his length fully free of her, knowing full well how his girth would feel inside her. His eyes never left her as he teased his cock against her clit. He could only imagine how it felt on the red haired pussy he had not yet seen. He watched her face for her reaction as he entered her again, this time going deeper into her tightness, his grunt of satisfaction more guttural with lust.

His look told her he was not teasing her, he was preparing her for what was to come. In her non virginal innocence, he doubted she had ever been fucked hard, and his look said that was what was going to happen.

He repeated the little tease twice more, each time feeling her passage grow slicker and her body allowing him deeper. He was almost fully inside her when he could take it no more. The next time he pulled out he did not tease her bud, but instead thrust back into her with one deliberate thrust. His eyes angled down to watch her breasts as he began the onslaught of thrusts into her, the slap of their bodies and his satisfied grunts breaking the silence of the room.
 
It has her squirming beneath and against him when he runs his slickened member over the bundle of nerves cresting her sex, more of those wordless, breathy little noises. He presses into her again, further this time-she bites her lip and turns her head to see his large hand wrapped around her slender wrist, pinning it to the blanketed mattress next to her head.

Out again, more teasing-a second probe, easier than the last-and then by the third time she was starting to feel a little crazy, impatient somehow-and then he slid home, deeper than before and bottoming out-and then immediately started to thrust hard into her almost but not quite painful-her a bounce to her breasts each hit and a slight bob of her ankles and calves past his arms.

“Oh-” She can’t breathe, eyes unfocused and a little wide. “Oh God-” Amber and green eyes flick up to his face, his downcast eyes as he watched her chest-the noises he was making. The noises she was making-Blitz arched her back and tried to free her right hand-but his grip only tightened and his pace increased, each thrust sending a jolt through her breasts as he fucked her, the base of her spine and the rounded curve of her ass bouncing against the padded springs of the mattress.

He’d feel her inner muscles contract around him, slickening further with each plunge-and her aroused utterances sounded a little more desperate and distressed as she grew accustomed to his size, still an entirely too tight a fit but also a pleasurable one, her folds tightly sleeving his cock, each run through dragging against the roof of her sex.

She’s trying to work her hands free of his and failing, a desperate kiss to his wrist-and the minute he let go he’d learn it was only so she could touch him, a hand slipping under his shirt and smoothing over his back, the other around the back of his neck-trying to pull him in closer, the earlier blush now a flush of want and desire of her own, each hard thrust rewarded with another sound of pleasure.

“Please, please, please-” She breathed, the words a keening, dazed sort of chant. She was into it, much more into it than he had probably expected-but she was passionate beneath the fame and the beauty and her powers, in tune with this part of herself she hadn’t really explored before. Not alone, not with men, not with anyone.
 
He wouldn’t let her pull him towards her, he wanted her to know he was taking his pleasure from her, and giving her, hers. He knew what he was doing, he had enough experience and the moans from her, showed he was hitting the right spot. She had teased and teased, maybe intentionally, and all he wanted to do now was lose himself inside her.

No, no he wouldn’t let her pull him close, that was for later, maybe, he didn’t know. They were both caught up in the moment, later she may be embarrassed with what had happened, he might, he had been very persistent. She had never been a nuisance, she was appealing to look at, sweet and fun and the more time they spent together the more he realized that without her there he would be missing something.

But still, he thought as he straightened himself, she needs to get fucked. Her hands fell away and as he repositioned himself for the next onslaught,he took the opportunity to answer her earlier plea.
“Please stop...please fuck me harder...”

He did not need to wait for her answer, her increasing wetness, her moans and contracting muscles told him everything he needed to know. Taking an ankle in each hand he spread her legs wide. Looking down at her he grinned, “I fit inside you perfectly,” he marveled at how deep his cock was inside her. Her red pubic hair a contrast to his own greying hair.

Again he began with his deep thrusts, his grunts of effort and satisfaction in time to the wonderful shudder of her breasts with each hard penetration. It was becoming hard to outlast her, everything was so visually pleasing. She was beautiful and her bodies response to him fucking her was too appealing to ignore. Her muscles clamping around him, the cute expression tinged with desire and the shaking of her body was driving him towards the edge
 
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