Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same

[badassbird]

Jett finished tying the knot of the scarf around Albert's wrists, making certain the man wouldn't be able to budge them while she worked her magic.

Discovering there was some alternate universe where she and her lover were men instead of women was interesting to say the least and plenty awkward in Albert's presence. But uncertainty had turned a little more comfortable and then they were left in the house alone, Albert sitting in one of the chairs in the den and looking pretty good in his dress shirt and slacks. Good enough Jett decided she wanted to see what all of the differences were between this man and the woman she loved.

She already knew that--other than public disposition and the way they carried themselves when they thought they were alone--it wasn't all that different. For all intents and purposes, he was the person she loved, the outside package didn't matter.

Really, she was more of a lady's lady, but her Bertie was a sexy man and it wasn't like she was inexperienced. In fact, wooing men and bedding them had been part of her job in her gang, she was just doing the same thing here, with one large exception: she wanted to do this a hundred percent.

She moved to stand in front of him, admiring her handiwork with her hands on her hips. She was kind of glad she'd chosen to wear the too-short skirt Francoise had lent her along with the scoop-neck shirt she'd stolen from her alternate self (tied at her waist to shorten the tent that it was on her). It would make what she wanted to do easier.

She slunk over to her 'prisoner' and bent forward, bracing her hands on his knees.

"Comfortable?"

Comments

[copesetic]

Her language is so much more coarse but it spurs him on nonetheless, pulling her down on him and pressing up with what strength he can spare without hurting her. She squeezes in on him, eliciting a shuddering breath and a loud moan that's lost in her chest as he buries his face there. It's a wonder he can breathe. Maybe he can't, they're cyborgs after all, it's not as if he needs to.

Every move she makes has him shuddering and each noise makes him just want to hear more. Fuck me, she says, fuck me as hard as you want. He has to comply. It would be heartless not to.

Suddenly he's standing, keeping her on him through cybernetic strength and allowing her a moment to hook her legs behind him before he moves the inches he needs to the wall, pressing her back against it roughly and quickly to make sure she doesn't fall. Here gravity helps, drives him deeper than he thought he could go, and he moans again into her breasts as he starts moving roughly, driving himself into her again and again with rough slaps of his hips against hers.

[badassbird]

"Aah! Ah! Albert! Christ, yes!"

She's a tangle of limbs around him, her ankles hooked together just over his ass while she clung to his shoulders with a white-knuckle grip.

She'd had plenty of positions over the years, including against a wall, but never on the damn wall like this. He was so deep inside her she thought she could feel every thrust push him into her entire body and fill her up completely. It was a heady feeling that made her head spin and drove anything coherent from her mind. It was just his hard, thick, length making her knees weak as he crammed into her over and over, bruising her pelvis with his. It was perfect.

She'd asked him to fuck her and he was delivering as much as she'd hoped he would. At this rate, she wasn't going to last. Her mouth ran without her permission and her nails bit into his back as that stirring feeling kicked up, the one that said she was going to cum and it would be mind-numbing.

"Not gonna last...don't stop until you cum in me, I want to feel it."

[copesetic]

"Gott your mouth is filthy," which is somehow why he drives his tongue into it, kissing her just as hard as he thrusts into her, past the point of no return.

Another two great drives and he pins her into the wall with his weight, holding her up as he pulses in her in waves that draw a breathy moan against her lips, his legs trembling until he locks his knees to keep them upright. It lasts what seems a lifetime, his release so long and hard it's a wonder that he manages to stay standing at all, much less keep her there with him, but he manages, even with one hand carefully cradling the back of her neck to make sure she's alright, he manages.

[badassbird]

His tongue is in her mouth and all she can do is helplessly moan against it as he keeps his maddening pace. But then he trusts with all his weight into her and pins her to the wall with his length buried deep in her body and just the thought of that alone has her spilling over that edge. She can feel him pulsing and quivering and his warmth filling her up as he cums in her and it's not a sensation she thought she'd enjoy so much. But her legs are clenching tighter to keep him as deep as possible and it has her practically screaming into his mouth as she drenches him with her own release, her arms winding around behind his neck for support.

As they finally both seem to start down from that high, she breaks the kiss and pants heavily into his chest, his name murmured quietly like a prayer with her body worshiping his.

[copesetic]

He holds them up for what feels like an eternity until finally he sinks down to the floor, utterly spent but still careful to keep her safely against him and not set down to hard or roughly. It's an odd sort of contrast to how furiously he'd been working into her only moments before, but now he's happy to settle with his back against the wall and ignore the scarf bruises on his wrists from being bound and the weakness in his legs from holding them up in favor of holding her close and gently gliding his hands over the soft skin of her shoulders and back. He cradles her as something precious, someone worth every ounce of care and protection.

He kisses her face gently, first on the forehead, then on her cheek, then so very lightly brushing her lips with his own. "Are you alright?"

[badassbird]

The gentleness he visits upon her after such vigorous actions is a wonderful contrast and it has her responding in kind. Once he has them settled onto the floor with Jett still in his lap, she lets her hands roam, fingers tracing from those marked wrists, up Albert's arms to hi shoulders before finally settling on his neck just into his hair line. It was the perfect place for when she pulled him into a fuller kiss. It wasn't even remotely as needy or lust-filled as before, but it held a gratitude and affection she couldn't vocalize.

"Yeah, kinda sore, but in the best way possible." A smirk fell onto her lips. "You claimed I had a dirty mouth, but did you hear what you were saying to me? It was pretty impressive."

[copesetic]

He blushes at that, actually turns full on red from the back of his neck all the way across his cheeks and he has to turn his head away to maintain at least a little of his dignity.

"You started it," he mumbles sullenly, a joke but still true.

He remains that way for a moment, but with her fingers in the hair at his nape, he can't help but turn back and nuzzle her cheek, planting a soft and gentle kiss there. He keeps holding her but keeps tight reign on his hands, lest they wander to her chest again like they want to.