Chapter 15 - On Dominance: Angel (KoF)

                                                   On Dominance

                                                       by Volpone

                                                  Grouping: Flatland
                                        Continuum: Hentai Crossover
                         Location: a sports arena closed for renovations

                                                       Chapter 15

          Well, it was time. This was scheduled to be the last of Quinn's bouts and he hoped his
most challenging. Of all the women he'd faced, only Angel (he pronounced it correctly as
AHN-hel rather than Anglicising it the way most gringos tended to do) was significantly
enhanced. He believed she'd undergone some kind of chemical treatment similar to the
super-soldier serum used to create Captain America in the Marvelverse. Whatever the
reason, she had seriously boosted speed, strength, and resiliency.
          What made this even more fun was how sexy she was, happy to show plenty of skin in
her favorite outfit which was basically a strapless bikini under a short bomber jacket and blue
chaps, the whole thing finished off with big Western boots and fingerless gloves to protect her
knuckles. She was busty (about a 37D or so by his expert eye), cute, and had short white
hair that was cut to be attractive rather than severe. Overall, she was one of the most good
looking women he'd picked for this. She also thought of herself as a naughty girl which was
always fun.
          It was a shame she was an assassin.
          Truly, if she weren't a professional killer by trade he'd have wanted to recruit her for
Phoenix Group, but she was rumored to be somewhat cruel. He hadn't observed that
personally, and there was always a chance this particular version of Angel was a bit less
sadistic than her non-hentai counterpart.
          As he climbed into the ring, she flashed him a smile that was warmer than he'd
expected.
          Well, perhaps this doesn't have to be as adversarial as I expected.
          Taking a chance, he said, “Listen... this is scheduled to be my last match. What do you
say that after this, regardless of the outcome, we go out and share a bottle of tequila? Winner
buys.”
          The three women observing were a bit surprised at this. He'd never made any such
overtures to any other fighter so far. Perhaps he had scheduled her this way intentionally.
(He had, but not for the reason they thought.) Still, they doubted he wanted to influence the
match. It was likely he just wanted to blow off a little steam after all these fights, which was
true.
          Rainbow Mika leaned on the edge of the canvas and cleared her throat loudly, obviously
indicating she wanted to be included in the invitation.
          Angel gave a look that slid from Mika to Quinn and back again, wondering what
was going on.
          He wished Mika had simply come to him after and told him she wanted some time with
him outside the arena. He had no problems once this was all over, but she'd put him in a nowin
situation by being impatient.
          Then he got an idea.
          He looked like he'd been caught in a faux pas and apologized.
          “I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you two had a prior engagement.” Looking at Angel, he
said, “No hard feelings.”
          The two women looked puzzled. Was he saying that he thought Angel and Mika were
sleeping together?
          Then both women realized at the same moment what he'd done.
          Angel looked over at the busty young thing who had inserted herself into the
negotiation as if considering.
          “How about we see how things go tonight before we invite someone else along...
okay?” she responded, making certain they knew she was responding to Quinn's invitation,
not agreeing that she and Mika had a date planned.
          He turned and said, “Is that okay, Mika? I promise I won't leave town right away.”
Knowing that it was about the best she was going to get under the circumstances, Mika
smiled and nodded brightly.
          Angel said to Quinn in a voice that reminded him somewhat of a popular Latina actress
from another place, “You seem to have made quite an impression while you've been here.”
Nodding honestly, he admitted, “Mika and I had a very interesting match, but that's all...
so far.”
          She nodded her head, this being about what she figured. No one was talking about
exactly what happened, but nobody was bad-mouthing him after their match. Most had made
it to the bell, but even those who lost weren't complaining. That said something in their
profession.
          And then there had been those phone calls from the alternates.
          “Okay. Win or lose,” she agreed. “I just hope you don't mind drinking tequila through a
straw 'cuz I'm gonna bust your jaw,” she warned him with a smile.
          He answered her with one of his own.
          “I can't complain when I'm paying you to try.”
          “I'll see you get your money's worth.”
          Then Kasumi called, “Begin!”
          She was on him instantly, trying a low-middle-high combo to see if he was slower or
weaker in one range.
          He blocked the low and middle, then he countered the high line kick and it was her turn
to block.
          Angel wasn't disappointed. He was fast and strong in all lines which meant they might
have a good match here.
          Moving in again, she tried six different moves on him and not one landed clean, two
drawing no contact whatsoever. His fighting style was different, too... something she'd never
faced before, but that just made it more fun.
          They continued to exchange strikes but neither scored a really good hit, and Angel
decided to see if talking would throw him off.
          “That style you use. What's it called?”
          He answered as if they were already sharing drinks in a friendly bar someplace rather
than him trying to knock her down.
          “It's called zhopach. I don't imagine you've run across it before. It's pretty rare.” (That
was an understatement. He was the only practitioner now that The Teacher was gone,
making it the rarest martial art she'd likely ever faced.) “You look self-taught, or close,” he
observed. “Sort of muay un-thai.”
          “Yeah,” she admitted. “It just... happened.”
          During this civilized conversation, they had exchanged more than a dozen strikes,
kicks, sweeps, and counters, and the three observers were more than slightly impressed.
Only Kasumi had seen speeds approaching what they were demonstrating, some of their
moves seeming no more than a shift in weight and a blur synchronized with the sound of
impact.
          At two minutes into the match, Angel was amazed. She'd never gone this long in a
stretch without one fighter or the other scoring a decisive blow. It was exhilarating to be
pushed this way.
          As they fought, the grin on Quinn's face got bigger and bigger until he summed up
what he was feeling. Putting on a cheesy, non-specific foreign dialect, he said broadly, “You
good. I like!”
          Then Angel discovered something about zhopach, though she didn't realize it at the
time. Zhopach was an art over five millennia old that was developed in a society where
Quickening of the human creature was a part of the culture for about half the population. It
was designed not to simply prevent a person being injured but to trigger a physiological and
mental state that replaced the old “fight or flight” response. Fight or flight improved strength
and speed, reduced the body's reacting to pain, but was intended for a creature still reaching
to achieve the next level... the level achieved through Quickening. Zhopach triggered not just
an increase in strength and speed, it also sharpened focus and made the nerves propagate
signals more accurately, actually reducing the random nature of fight or flight.
          In short, Quinn got faster. His body began processing fatigue poisons at an
accelerated rate, his oxygen transfer going beyond what was normally possible without
damaging the body through oxygen toxicity. It was the equivalent of a race car running at
high speed getting a boost of nitrous to maximize combustion without the stress that caused
gaskets to spring leaks or engines to explode. Another comparison might be the difference
between the general explosion of a firecracker and the focused release of a bullet.
          Angel was wonderful, and she too had a higher level to draw on. As she built up more
and more energy, she began to reach that critical level where she could unleash a
devastating combination of ten... twelve... fifteen strikes in a single uninterrupted series of
moves.
          She felt the moment arrive, and she kicked herself into her combo mode. Her moves
were so quick it was basically impossible to follow for the one's observing from outside the
ring. Her first three were blocked but then her strike went past his guard and she caught him
squarely in the ribs under his arm. It was a good strike, but it felt almost like she'd punched
brick. Still, he was forced back by the impact, and she felt herself tugged forward as he
moved away.
          Then she felt the ache across her back where her top had been yanked hard and saw
him moving back with her top in his hand. He'd traded being hit for a chance to grab her
strapless top.
          Angel smiled broadly. If he thought being topless would throw her, he didn't know her
very well. She liked to shove the face of a defeated opponent into her cleavage and rub it
there before she finished them off.
          But at the same time, she liked it. He was willing to take a solid shot like that to get a
chance to see more of her. It was actually a compliment.
          It wasn't going to save him from a beating though.
          She'd lost her momentum when he didn't react as much as she expected. A good
connection like that one usually ruined the opponent's defenses momentarily, allowing her to
follow up with a group of additional shots before they could recover, but his defense stayed
strong with only the one hit landing before he was back beyond her reach and she had to start
building energy up once again.
          Quinn had to admire her in more ways than one. She didn't go all blushing virgin on
him and try to cover herself when it meant leaving herself vulnerable to attack. Her modesty
didn't overshadow the reason she was there... to try to kick his ass.
          As such, he got an extended view of her incredible chest. She could have been a very
popular swimsuit model had she chosen, her natural assets being almost the perfect
combination of size and texture than matched her physical lifestyle. Any bigger and she'd
need to cinch herself in to prevent her chest from going that-a-way when she tried to go thisa-
way. Any smaller and the result would have been far less dramatic.
          Damn, but she was a fine looking woman.
          As they'd fought, Angel had been subconsciously watching him as well. He was bare
to the waist and only his kilt covered anything, and she'd caught a quick glimpse of what was
under his kilt when he'd gone into a spinning kick. He was smooth and nicely muscled but not
big and bulky like some of the fighters she'd seen, a lot like Joe Higashi, another fighter she'd
faced on several occasions. Quinn had more character in his face than Joe, handsome but
not pretty.
          “Come on, playboy,” she taunted him. “You're not stopping now, are you?”
          “Looks like you're the bunny around here,” he responded as he blocked another backkick
and strike combo.
          She didn't seem insulted, but she wasn't going to give him the last word either.
          “I'm no fluffy bunny. I'm a bitch kitty—and I have claws!”
          She'd built up enough energy to go into another combo again, but just before she
launched, suddenly he was coming after her, catching her just before she was intending to
strike and spoiling her concentration, ruining her combo.
          Then she was blocking and countering all over the place, reacting rather than planning.
He'd been mostly defensive up to this point, but his offense was top notch as well. She was
barely fast enough and he kept her off balance, pressing her...
          And then he broke the plane.
          The one thing almost every character he'd faced had in common was they had evolved
in a two dimensional environment. They were created to think up-down-forward back... ˄ ˅ ˃
˂. They weren't three dimensional thinkers by nature.
          He went to her right, passing behind her back and it took her a fraction of a second to
adjust to his changing the plane of engagement, but she felt the tug. Her kick in defense just
brushed by his twisting body as she felt the hard yank at her hips, and this one hurt
considerably more than the last because it also yanked hard over her mound and stung her
labia as the fabric parted and snapped between her thighs. It would have been even more
painful if she hadn't tried to kick him at that moment since it parted her thighs naturally and
released the fabric with less resistance.
          But now her outfit only covered her arms and legs, the parts that would get her an
indecent exposure charge on many city streets now plain to see.
          Ow! Damn, that stung! she thought. She wasn't used to someone attacking her
costume instead of her, and that last one had the lips of her pussy tingling.
          It also made her realize she was wet.
          “Five minutes!” called Kasumi.
          Quinn had known Angel was excited even before she admitted it to herself. The longer
they fought the more pronounced the subtle scent of sexually-excited female became, and
Quinn knew it wasn't coming from outside the ring. Well, there was some there, too, but not
like from the lovely Latina who was mostly naked in front of him.
          He also couldn't help but give a slight smirk when he noticed she waxed completely.
That usually meant a woman with a healthy interest in recreational sex. Women who weren't
interested usually didn't bother because they didn't think anyone would see. Here was a
woman who liked to be seen without clothes.
          It was something of a surprise when she returned the favor on him. On her next
attack, she pulled him into a turn that make his kilt flare out slightly, and Angel did a dive and
roll, catching the hem of his pleated tartan as she went.
          The moment he felt the tug at his waist, Quinn reacted. There were yards of fabric in a
proper kilt—more than enough to entangle a fighter, and the wool used in tartan weaves were
not known for being fragile. If he got wrapped up in it, he'd be hard pressed to escape.
          He did a back-flip to get away from the unpleating fabric, and then stood there smiling
as they were both functionally naked, the belt that held up his kilt not providing a lot of cover.
          But Quinn wasn't going to complain since she'd just saved him some time.
          After a quick glimpse that told her she wasn't dealing with a eunuch, she came after
her now exposed opponent in hopes that he was more modest than she was. If nothing else,
it did give her another target, even if she hated the thought of putting him out of commission
in that manner.
          But he seemed to shrug off his nakedness just as she had, and he was coming to meet
her head on.
          She found herself moving backward in spite of her best efforts. He was six inches
taller than she was and his reach kept her either retreating to get beyond his reach advantage
or she needed to be in closer to equalize the strike zone for them, but he kept up the pressure
so she couldn't close.
          She kept watching for an opportunity to use one of her unorthodox moves... the ones
that were more pro wrestling than muay thai, but he just didn't stay still long enough, and he
kept throwing her off by changing the plane of engagement! Just when she'd start to get her
rhythm down...
          Her momentary distraction into consciously analyzing technique cost her as he
advanced more quickly than before, and she moved back as quickly to keep the distance.
          And her feet got tangled in the yards of tartan that she'd stripped from him just
moments before. He'd intentionally driven her right back into the hazard she'd created but
then dismissed from consideration.
          That was the last mistake he allowed her.
          The moment she started to go over backward, she instantly went into fall mode, her
body preparing to hit the floor in a way to spread out the impact as much as possible so she
wouldn't be subjected to the shock as much.
          The moment she changed from fight to fall, he took advantage. She would have
normally tried to kip back to her feet, but he had a turn of wool over her legs now and was
forcing her more into the fabric as she tried to escape. She couldn't kip so she naturally
attempted to roll, but that actually hurt her as it tightened the kilt around her legs, and being
as wide as it was, a single turn bound her from calves to upper thighs, her knees losing much
of their mobility.
          It was the beginning of the end of their match, and the beginning of the second stage
of their contest.
          She realized she'd lost all hope of escaping once her arms were entangled in the next
turn... well, actually it was only one arm, but the other followed immediately and he had her
swaddled in yards of heavy woolen which did nothing to help her exposure as it was largely
around her knees and her waist, still leaving her functionally naked at chest and hips.
          Angel felt him complete his wrap and then a heavy yank at the fabric as he cinched it
tight behind her.
          But rather than leave her on the canvas, he lifted her back to her feet and leaned her
into the corner.
          He leaned in close and said softly, “Please don't submit. We're just getting to the fun
part.”
          Then his lips mashed hers as he kissed her. It wasn't the assault it might have been.
It felt... well, she had to admit it felt like a man who wanted to fuck but wanted his partner to
be right there with him when it happened.
          It was a hell of a kiss.
          She'd thought of biting for a moment, but she really didn't want to do anything that
would require stitches on either part, and that's the only way she'd be able to make a real
difference in what was happening.
          Then again, there was the ten million.
          Before she let herself act foolishly, she realized what would happen if she bit him hard
enough to injure him. It would effectively do nothing to reduce his fighting ability and she'd
still be virtually helpless, unlikely to get free before he could retaliate much more brutally if
she did something that nasty to him.
          And honestly, she didn't want to hospitalize him. She was a professional and had no
grudge to settle here, nor was she being paid by anyone to kill him, something she'd tried to
avoid since the NESTS syndicate had basically crashed.
          She simply didn't like to lose.
          The decision came when she realized that Kasumi hadn't even called the ten minute
mark yet. That meant she had over twenty minutes to either get free herself or to convince
him to let her free. She could be very persuasive when needed.
          So she decided to enjoy the kiss.
          As soon as she relaxed, she felt his hand on her ass. His fingers took hold and gave a
squeeze as he lifted, and she moaned in response. He was a strong, and if she admitted it,
exciting male, and he knew how to push her buttons.
          Speaking of which, his other hand found her button and began to see just how ready
she was.
          Angel bit her lower lip and gave a high moan, then twitched soundly when his fingertip
rubbed across her clit. It was the reaction of a woman who was fighting with herself. She
wasn't wanting to enjoy herself but he wasn't giving her much choice. The big trouble was
while she wanted the money and wanted to win, she also wanted to fuck because one of the
results of NESTS making her what she was also increased her sex drive. It boosted all of her
physiological reactions, not simply those involved in combat. NESTS, the ones who had
turned her into an assassin, would have loved it if they could have targeted just the strength
and speed, but they got the whole package and that made her hormones stronger as well,
and it also made her...
          “¡Chin!” she gasped and shook hard as his fingering her clit made her come.
She'd liked sex even before NESTS had messed with her body. Now she liked it even
more, but most men had problems with a woman who climaxed from a kiss and an ass
squeeze and a little clit fingering. They thought she was either faking it or they thought she
was an unbelievable slut, whichever they tended to view as the worst.
          Then she heard Quinn murmur to her, “Oh... you are fun!”
          It appeared he had a different set of values to go by.
          Angel's thoughts went off on their own, thinking, Mierde... why'd he have to like me
being una perra? It would make it so much easier if he was un cabrón.
          And then finally, Why'd he have to ask to me out for tequila?
          But her body wasn't wanting to fight any more. It was shifting over into an entirely
different set of reflexes, and combat was nowhere on the list of responses any more.
          Then his fingers began to explore a little deeper, and she involuntarily squeezed her
thighs together, trying to crouch down to escape his familiar fingers, but he didn't let her get
away. If fact, now the hand on her ass was moving more sensually and his finger was teasing
her culo. If she crouched down, it made her anus more vulnerable even as it made it more
difficult to invade her sapo. Regardless of what she did, she was in trouble.
          “I assume that's accidental... isn't it?” he asked.
          She stopped squirming a moment and realized she was down almost level with his
half-erection staring her in the face.
          “Ten minutes!” came the call.
          This turned out to be the final straw (the positioning, not realizing that they were a third
of the way through their match).
          She swore, “¡Chin!” and then leaned in and captured his cock with her lips.
          He took a deep breath as she sucked him down, and he said to her, “I do love a lady
who knows what she likes.”
          She sucked firmly several times, moaning around her mouthful of now fully hard cock,
then she let him out of her mouth long enough to reply, “What 'lady'? I'm a puta and you know
it.”
          Then she went back to trying to suck him off.
          If only the damned kilt weren't so tight...
          He told her, “I thought you were a 'bitch kitty'.”
          The pale head bobbing over his crotch stopped and looked up at him long enough to
ask, “Are you really such a pendejo you say that to a Latina with her teeth near your cock?”
          “I'm often a fool, but I try to never be an idiot,” he replied with a smile, clearly saying he
knew she might threaten but that he understood it was just her way to tell him to back off with
the smart-ass remarks.
          With a grudging, “Hmph”, she went back to what she was doing before being so rudely
interrupted.
          But he did shut up.
          She clearly didn't need his help to know what to do, but he'd never being good at
standing around and letting his partner do all the work, so Quinn considered how to be a bit
less passive. Hands on her head? Too submissive a scenario for her. Hands in her hair?
Even more-so. Hands on her breasts? Always a favorite with him but it also depended on the
lady. If her ass were higher, he'd see how she responded to a bit of anal masturbation, but as
things were, the breasts option won out.
          As he slid his hand down the front of her shoulders, she must have known what he
intended, but she gave no indication either way.
          Quinn filled his hands with her most excellent chest and gave her a bit of manipulation,
not getting too vigorous yet hopefully enough so he could see how she reacted, all the while
thinking what a fine pair of breasts they were in his hands, almost perfect in their soft yet
resilient feel.
          Her clinging lips continued to slide up and down over his rod, and while she was very
good and used a number a nice little tricks she'd picked up along the way, she didn't seem to
react much to what he was doing.
          So he decided to get a bit more enthusiastic and his fingers indented her springy
breasts, applying a bit of pressure but not going heavy-handed on her.
          Still she kept up her very fine fellatio on him without showing much reaction either way.
          No objections so far? Okay...
          He gave her chest a much more aggressive squeeze... the kind where many ladies
gasped and asked him to back off some for fear of bruising.
          Angel gave a loud moan and tried to swallow his cock to the root.
          We have a winner! It made sense since she was more durable and probably less
influenced by pain, meaning he'd need to do more than normal to get the same reaction.
          Quinn kept up the pressure, using his handholds to help encourage her, and it seemed
that this was her kind of party. She moaned louder and sucked more enthusiastically for
another fifteen seconds or so, taking him deep every so often until it would cut off her air
supply, and then she gave a muffled cry and started shaking all over, clearly enjoying a nice
orgasm from the combination of her giving head while he mauled her chest.
          Once she'd come, he wondered if she'd be wanting more of the same or to shake
things up and move on to something new.
          The tremors easing off, she let most of his length slip from her greedy lips so she could
sit more upright, and she leaned in to Quinn more firmly. Rather than assume, he let her
direct and discovered where she was heading... namely to slide what part of him wasn't in her
mouth between her fabulous breasts.
          He was willing to play that game, too.
          He moved his hands to the outside of her breasts and pushed them snug around
himself as she moved her entire upper body. Angel enjoyed the feeling of him rubbing along
between her tetas and into her mouth as she savored the way he slid over her tongue.
          While never being much into bondage, she had to admit he had her into it for the
moment. He'd demonstrated he was as capable as she was, and that was a big factor, then
he'd gotten the better of her but not in a way that pissed her off. His trick with her outfit had
been good even when it wasn't comfortable. And he'd been handsy, sure, but what guy
wasn't? It let her know he thought she was sexy... and that her sexiness outweighed his
desire to win.
          Honestly, she'd never have accepted her current situation if he hadn't clearly been
interested in her before the match or if he had run her down verbally when she came so
easily.
          Besides, it had been over a month since her last good fuck. She'd had sex several
times, but it had been disappointing in spite of plenty of tequila being involved. (She didn't
stop to think the two might have been related. She was, after all, barely twenty.)
          But she had high expectations for this one.
          Her body started demanding more attention then because she felt another climax
rising. Dios, this was all sexy as hell...
          Quinn was very tempted to let her have what she wanted. Angel had a great mouth
and lots of enthusiasm, and there was nothing as sexy as a woman who came like this, but he
kept his nerve block in place even though she'd had his reflex pushed right to the border for a
while. If he gave her a mouthful of cum, she might decide she'd accomplished her goal and
start thinking about escape and going back after the money again, and that would be a
shame. No, he needed to keep her reaching after her new goal to be sure she was focused
on sex and not mayhem.
          Her climax made her moan like it was something amazing, which from all signs it was,
but if she came from giving head and a little paizuri, he was anxious to see how she reacted
when he was giving her some more stimulation.
          He waited until she let him free of her mouth as she panted a couple of moments and
rubbed her cheek against his wet erection, eyes closed and face glowing with pleasure.
          Using the kilt as a way to maneuver her, he lifted her up and asked her, “What do you
think? Top rope or third rope?” She didn't reply immediately, so he clarified, “We need you at
the right height so you can be comfortable for a while.”
          Angel had to think, What the fuck is he asking me for? If I'm getting fucked, that's what
matters.
          Correctly taking her silence for a lack of opinion, he lifted her and put her head and
upper body through between the top two ropes. This accidentally dragged her breasts across
the rough rope but instead of making her complain, she gave a gasp and twitched slightly,
telling him she had a flash of pain but it was the right kind.
          Making sure there was a nice thick layering of wool between her stomach and the
rope, he folded her over at the waist through the ropes but kept her where she wouldn't fall
forward. He wanted her to be able to stay there for better than fifteen minutes without using
her hands.
          Then she felt his fingers rubbing again at her sex and she gave several high moans
and gasps, twitching when he did something particularly poignant like when his finger rolled
over her clit as it stood out from its hood. She gave a sharp exclamation when that happened
and bounced slightly on the rope before she trembled and had another small fleeting orgasm.
          He started masturbating her more vigorously, and she started to whine, whether from a
desire to come or a desire for something more it was hard to say.
          Then she decided to remove any doubt by asking him, “Hey, pendejo, you gonna fuck
me or not?”
          “Your wish is my command,” he told her with a grin in his voice.
          She came back with, “That mean you're gonna untie me if I ask?”
          He came back by saying, “Sorry, only one wish at a time, please,” and he positioned
his cock and ran it up and down her slippery lower lips, parting them and making her breath
catch slightly. He felt her try to shift slightly backwards so he'd impale her as he passed
across the opening to her sapo, but she didn't have enough control. However, he took her
hint and stopped teasing (he hadn't really been—just getting himself lubed up a bit) and
pushed forward.
          Angel dropped her head forward and bit her lower lip as her eyes closed. The muscles
lining her pussy clenched down on him involuntarily, stopping him from entering more than
about three inches.
          He gave an appreciative moan in return, enjoying the well-toned muscles making her
so nice and tight. He waited just a moment, then pushed again and slid another three inches
inside.
          She tried to prevent herself clamping down again, but it felt so good at the same
moment she couldn't help herself. She wanted him in until he was banging at the door to her
uterus... almost. With as hard as he was, if he did hit her cervix, it would likely be an
unpleasant experience.
          But he didn't push that fast. Rather, he started to back out before he thrust again, not
shoving himself in full length but her body approved anyway because this was running him
right across her g-spot.
          Oh, god...
          She hadn't squirted in a while. The last two times she had, she'd been by herself, but if
he kept this up, he was going to have a wet kilt to deal with. It was still wrapped snugly
around her knees, and this in turn kept her pussy tightened up around him, and gave him
perfect aim.
          His hands held her by the hips, keeping her stable so she didn't need to worry about
falling forward, and every time he thrust it sent a jolt of pleasure through her belly, and she felt
the tightening sensation that told her what was going to happen.
          Do I warn him or not?
          Well, he seemed to like it when she came, so this shouldn't bother him too much... she
hoped. If it did, fuck it... he's the one making it happen.
          She started to jerk in climax, moaning in pleasure but whimpering at the same time
because of what was about to go off.
          “¡Chin!” she cried, and she squirted all over the both of them, although it was more a
matter of rain since he was almost snug against her opening when it happened. She hung on
the rope and trembled as she came on his cock.
          There was some applause and a couple of whistles from outside the ring, and Angel
wasn't sure if that was ironic or genuine.
          “Fifteen minutes!” called Kasumi, and Angel thought, If he keeps this up for another
fifteen minutes, I won't be walking to that bar afterwords. Then again, it might be worth it.
          Now that she'd had an orgasm this way, he started stroking deeper and she kept
panting as she tried to get back some control. At this point, all Angel had to work with were
the muscles she was already working. She started to squeeze him again with each stroke,
encouraging him to join her in coming, but he didn't seem to be as near as she'd hoped.
          That just meant she needed to work that much harder.
          The problem was that she couldn't work on getting him to come without pushing herself
right up to the edge as well. All this squeezing at him was fun, but it was clear it was getting
her excited faster than him.
          Her next climax wasn't a wet one, but it was still loud and to judge from the grin on
Quinn's face (which Angel naturally couldn't see) very fun.
          He got her to squirt once more before the call of “Twenty minutes!”
          The pale-haired Latina hanging over the rope wasn't able to do anything by this point
except hope she could hang on 'til the end. It was obvious he wasn't going to release her, and
she couldn't have asked him to if she'd wanted. Her attention was all focused much lower
than her speech center by now, and she was aching some because of the clenching of her
vaginal muscles. The sensation of him thrusting into her from this position was amazing, and
her breasts were swaying with each push, adding to the wicked feeling she was getting from
being trapped in this position. She enjoyed feeling like the bad girl, and she imagined she
looked pretty damned wicked right now, hanging there as she was being fucked and enjoying
the hell out of it, just moments from another climax.
          Quinn could feel her next explosion approaching, so he decided it was time to get her
ready for a big finish. Angel was no prissy socialite, concerned with appearances. (Or not
that kind of appearance at least.) Women who are sexually repressed don't call themselves
whores, and even though he disliked the word in most any language, it did tell him she might
resist what he was going to do but she'd also likely enjoy the hell out of it.
          She felt his fingers around her culo again, but this time she had no chance to object.
She was helpless both by her position and by her not wanting to resist any longer. He'd
pushed her over the edge and now the bitch kitty was in heat, so she could only wait for what
he'd do next.
          His cock kept sliding in deep, making her jiggle with each thrust, making her body sing
to each stroke of his hips, but when his finger pushed its way inside her anus, she gave a
loud response and started coming again.
          “Ayiii!” she exclaimed as she felt her culo violated, but her body reacted as if this was
what it had been waiting for, bouncing her on her rope support, all three of the women looking
on expecting to see another deluge of her ejaculate from her reaction, but not this time.
          She thrashed several moments as she came, and she was aware the only thing that
prevented her from more of the embarrassing applause from the observers was that it was a
bit too soon after her last squirt. She knew now their cheers weren't intended cruelly. They
actually were cheering her enjoying herself, probably because they had found themselves in
similar situations.
          Angel wasn't sure if he was using her asshole just to add to her stimulation or if he had
plans, but when she felt another finger join the first and begin encouraging her to relax, she
knew there was some anal in her near future unless she did something to prevent it.
          It also made her climax peak again and she tried not to shout even louder than before,
but though she stifled her vocal reaction, her body was harder to convince and she was
shaken by a heavy muscular spasm that shook her.
          “Twenty-five minutes!”
          Angel was fighting to hold on. Just another five minutes and she'd make it. She may
not have beaten him, but she wouldn't have lost either, and that was something worthwhile.
          She felt him stop thrusting and slowly withdraw his tool from her soaked pussy, and as
he did she shook a bit harder, her body not sure if it wanted things to continue or not. Her
muscles were complaining along the backs of both legs, her waist, her shoulders, her neck,
and especially her core muscles from hanging over the rope as she was. It was worse than
when she had a really heavy-duty workout to push herself.
          Then she felt his fingers stretching out her culo as they slid deeper, and she did her
best to not fight it.
          She usually used a consolador for each hole when she was in one of her bad girl
moods (good American-made dildos, not the inexpensive pieces of mierda that some Mexican
porn peddlers sold) but didn't have anyone she wanted to fuck particularly. It was part of what
she did when she wanted a really big orgasm to take the edge off without needing to worry
about her partner having one, too.. or even finding a partner for that matter.
          Now she'd find out if he could make her enjoy it just as much.
          She blew out her breath as she felt the pressure of his cock stretching her out a little
more, fighting the natural instinct to tighten up and prevent anything entering that way,
knowing it would not make things better if she did.
          Then she felt him slip inside the tight ring of her ass as her body's early warning
system started to sound, and she took a shaky breath as he paused before the next push.
          Oh, shit... here it comes.
          He was only halfway in before she came.
          She flopped like a fish on a line and ejaculate sheeted down beneath them as she
cried out wordlessly, not even able to hold out until he was fully imbedded in her sweet little
backside.
          Damn! “Bitch kitty” had a hair-trigger ass! And it was a nice one as well. She didn't try
to get away and she clearly enjoyed a little back door action, coming hard and squirting
before he was even fully in motion.
          My kind of date!
          Then he was snug to her ass and she was moaning and whimpering as she shook, her
climax threatening to ruin her control. If he pushed her too hard like this, she was going to
embarrass herself... not by coming and squirting like this, but by sobbing and crying and
pleading with him to keep fucking her ass.
          One small corner of her mind told her, You are such a slut.
          Ironically, if Quinn had heard that part of her mind, he'd have told it to shut up and mind
it's own business. He probably had a higher opinion of Angel than she did of herself in this
regard.
          She certainly had an incredibly fine ass in all ways. So many female athletes had to
“work their ass off”, leaving them in good condition but lean and overly firm. Quinn loved how
Angel still had plenty of curve and cushion as well as a talented sphincter that appreciated the
attention.
          She also understood this wasn't a fight any more. This was about both people getting
what they hoped for now.
          He started to thrust slowly, and Angel started to twitch and whimper, trying to hold out
longer this time because she knew that the longer it took her to come, the better it would be.
          How much better she had no idea.
          His hips began moving a little faster, his strokes longer, and he felt the way her rectum
was making small fluttering movements, involuntarily reacting to this unnatural state of things
while her pleasure center was having a huge war with itself trying to decide what was going
on. Her anus was doing its best to relax without going too far, but with the size of Quinn's
cock stretching her out, too far was a little difficult. Her toys at home were a bit more
conservative and they respectfully sat where she put them and didn't go slamming away at
her aching culo this way.
          “Ayii!” she cried as she peaked yet again, unable to hold out any longer, but it was a
much better orgasm than earlier even if she didn't squirt this time. She was holding off,
keeping those muscles from releasing by concentrating hard enough to stop things from
getting away from her. Her improved physiology helped in that.
          But she'd never had her ass fucked this way and intended to make the best of it.
His eyes flicked up to the clock as it counted away their time, and he saw he had less
than a minute left.
          Time for the big finish.
          He started slamming harder at her exquisite derriere, and she reacted immediately.
Her voice was still unable to form words, but she couldn't stay quiet, crying out loudly as she
hung there by her waist and had the most outrageous sex of her life, her culo being plundered
with each impact of their hips meeting.
          He let go of his hold on her right hip, hoping she'd be able to stay in position as he
reached around and worked his fingers between her tight thighs. If she hadn't been
thoroughly soaked it would have been much tougher to do without hurting her, but as things
were, he got his fingers in place and started rubbing her erect clit and the top half of her labia
in firm circles.
          This brought a shout from her that she couldn't suppress, the assault on her senses
overwhelming as she felt her climax swelling up inside her. She could tell he was going to
join her this time just from the way he was moving, and that made it so fucking good...
          He let off the block on his climax reflex and gave a feral animal growl as his cock
jerked and spat it's load deep in her ass, and he felt her reaction the same instant. Her anus
clamped down on him as she cried out, and her body shook as if a massive jolt of electricity
coursed through it. She bucked as she felt his cum filling her ass and she squirted all over in
reply, amazed as milk began leaking from her ruby-hard nipples as she rode out the most
unbelievable orgasm she'd known.
          “Time! Thirty minutes!” Kasumi shouted over the cries of the woman getting her ass
fucked so gloriously. “Angel, do you want to continue?”
          “Ayii!” was all that greeted her question.
          His balls having given up the last of their load, Quinn slowed his thrusts to a bare
movement, not stopping but not trying to draw things out any more. He moved slowly from
one extreme of his stroke to the other until Angel went silent and hung there, panting and
occasionally giving another small tremble as she came down from her incredible heights.
          Leaning forward against the top rope, he stopped moving and asked the exhausted
woman impaled on his cock, “What do you think? You want to go on?”
          Not even trying to make the smart-ass reply this deserved, she shook her head in
negation.
          As he slowly withdrew his flagging tool from his partner's twitching ass, he turned to
Kasumi and said, “It looks like we're done.”
          Looking from one to another, the three observes smiled, and rather wistfully, Kasumi
concluded, “Thirty minutes, no decision.”

          The observers all hung around as they often did, rehashing what they'd seen and
offering a hand if needed as Quinn lifted Angel from her place over the rope and unwrapped
the woolen cocoon she'd been trapped in.
          Making certain she was steady with a hand on the rope for support, he gave her a kiss
and whispered, “You're good,” to his lovely competitor. Anything more sentimental would
have seemed out of place considering what they'd done.
          Now that she was free of it, he gathered up his kilt, and Angel told him in an unsteady
voice, “You better have that thing put in Guinness.”
          Wondering if she was talking about the Irish ale, he asked, “How so?”
          She clearly meant the book of world records, because she continued, “It's probably the
first time a dress ever cost somebody ten million dollars.”
          He gave her a hearty laugh, then said, “Give me a second to change and we'll go find
a bar. I owe you a bottle of tequila.”
          “Considering what you did to my outfit, you owe me more than that, pendejo!”
          And she thought to herself, Considering what you did to my ass, you owe me a trip to
Paris.

          The evening's text read very much as many expected: “ANGEL REACHES 30 MINS. NO DECISION. 
WINS 500K.”

          About hour later, a much recovered Angel sat across from her new drinking partner,
already having downed a couple of shots each and well into their conversation.
          “Of course I took time to shower!” she told him. “I just spent a half hour wrapped like a
chorizo in that dress of yours fuckin' my ass off. If you weren't sweating by the end, you were
being lazy, Quien.”
          When he'd told her that his friends called him Quinn, she had decided it was funnier for
her to call him Quien (pronounced “kee-ehn”), which meant “Who?”
          “Oh, I showered, too,” he admitted. “I just hurried so I wouldn't keep you waiting.”
          She smiled and held up her shot glass.
          Quinn drank tequila at times though he usually preferred something he could sip and
be sociable. He had no desire to get drunk, and since being Quickened, he didn't believe it
was possible for him any more, but he still appreciated good tequila, and he'd bought a bottle
of the best the bar had to offer. (He'd also tipped the bartender $500 to not insist that the
bottle stay behind the bar so they could serve themselves in their corner booth.)
          She told him, “It's good for a man to wait sometimes. Reminds him he's not the center
of the universe.”
          He clicked his glass to hers and replied, “Or the center of any of them. Me ke aloha
pau 'ole.”
          And they both tossed off their shots.
          It was only when she set her empty glass back on the table she thought, What the hell
did he mean by that comment? Not the Hawaiian gibberish... what did he mean “any”
universe?
          She wasn't drunk, and English wasn't her first language, but she was feeling a little
squiffy around the edges. Tequila always made her feel sexy but also a little defensive about
men thinking she was stupid. She'd gotten into more than one bar fight with someone who
had made that mistake. But she was half-a-million dollars richer than this morning and
enjoying herself with the man she won it from, so rather than asking what he was talking
about, she changed the subject.
          “I knew something was up with you before tonight. I had three of the perras who were
alternates contact me and offer their stand-by fee for me to drop out.” She wagged a finger in
his direction. “When a perra does that, there's something going on. It made me more...
curious.”
          That was news to Quinn. That the alternates were trying to bribe contestants into
dropping when that only gave them a one-in-six chance of being chosen... that said
something was up indeed.
          “When did this happen?” he wanted to know. He'd seen to it that each contestant was
paid the moment the text went out, but he didn't believe any of them would go back on their
contract just because they already had the money.
          “All three contacted me day before yesterday.”
          Then he got the timing. It was the day after Poison's match. Considering she'd
already voided her contract, she had nothing to lose. That made sense.
          “'Hell hath no fury...'” he quoted
          “... than a perra who loses out on a half-million dollars,” Angel finished. “You pissed
her off, so naturally she ran her mouth.”
          Clearly his drinking companion had reached the same conclusion.
          She went on.
          “I think you had six disappointed bitches when I didn't drop out,” she said smugly.
          He smiled across the table at her and observed, “I'm very glad you didn't.”
          To respond in kind would have been too sentimental for her, so she responded, “Claro.”
(“Of course.”)
          She looked at him and saw that he was considering something.
          “Perdóname, I think I have a text to send,” he told her, getting out his phone.
          Putting a hand on his phone, she asked, “What are you planning, Quien?”
          He told her honestly, “I think I'm going to extend the challenge. Since I haven't been
beaten yet, I think I'll go ahead and give any alternates who agree a chance at the money.”
          Besides, he was having a lot of fun so far. Poison had been the only disappointment,
and he wasn't surprised even then.
          Angel didn't let go of his hand.
          “Don't send that yet,” she requested.
          He was puzzled.
          “Why not?”
          “If you send that, that means the competition's back on... right?”
          He nodded, “Yes.”
          She looked a bit suggestively at him and pointed out, “But you don't sleep with any of
the former competitors when the competition is on.”
          Seeing where this was going, he smiled and put the phone back in his pocket.
          “I think the text can wait until morning,” he decided.
          Leaning deeply over the table to remind him of exactly what she had filling out her top,
Angel commented, “Smart man.”

          They were in his hotel room in less than five minutes, and she was pulling his clothes
off even before the door to the hallway was shut, her mouth pursuing his as she did.
          “No thirty minute time limit this time,” she observed, pushing his shirt off his chest as
her lips began trailing kisses down his torso.
          It was clear their earlier match had only been an appetizer to Angel.
As he kicked off his shoes, he told her, “I want to warn you, if you call me 'papi' or
'daddy' or anything like that, I don't care how sexy you are, you can call yourself a cab. Fair
warning.”
          “Somebody sounds a little touchy,” she taunted as she continued to kiss her way down
over his firm stomach.
          He went on, “And I won't call you 'perra' or 'puta' or 'mamasita' or any of that macho
shit you've heard most of your life.”
          She wondered why he was so worried about offending her.
          “I'm a perra... and a puta, but if you say something I don't like, I'll just shove something
in your mouth to shut you up...”
          She yanked his pants down around his knees while she had him standing there.
          “...and you can do the same, okay?” she said, and putting one hand behind his ass to
hold him in place, she took him in her other hand and drew her wet, warm tongue slowly up
the front of his rapidly swelling cock.
          “Do you see me sprinting for the door?” he asked.
          Looking up at him, she observed, “The more time you keep me talking, the less time
my mouth is doing something else. You want to keep me talking?”
          Knowing that any man who thought he won an argument had actually lost it, he shut up
and let her do what she wanted.
          And do it very well.
          In the ring, she'd been hamstrung by being wrapped up tight and having her hands
bound against her sides. Now she'd be able to show him what he'd missed.
          It was immediately clear that Angel enjoyed sex... a lot. She spent almost every
moment smiling up at him with a wicked expression and chuckling softly to herself. It was as
if this was something else she knew she was very good at and happy to get another chance
to show him.
          He could almost hear her thinking, You think your ass is cool? I am gonna wear your
cool ass out.
          Now that she had the chance to say “no” if she wished, Quinn decided to give her a bit
of encouragement and slid his hands into her short hair.
          Angel took this to mean he was getting impatient. She moved up and then gave a
long, pleased moan as she slid him into her mouth, tossing her head a bit as she took him
deeper and deeper with each bob of her pretty head.
          When he hit the back of her throat, she realized what she'd planned wasn't going to
work. He was just a bit too long, too thick, and too hard to take the bend. She hadn't been
able to do it in the ring from this position either, and she wanted to show this cock-sure Quien
what she could do.
          She worked him hard and fast for a few moments, moving and applying suction like
she was set for him to come now, but it was actually to get him ready for a momentary
break.
          She sucked hard as she pulled her lips up to the head and she released the suction
she was applying with a loud pop!
          Holding him there, she moved around so she could lay back on the hotel bed and lean
her head backwards off the edge so she was upside down to him.
          “Now... gimme that,” she demanded, using her fingers to try to pull him into range.
          Knowing exactly what she wanted, Quinn was more than happy to give it to her.
          Moving up, he had to push his cock downward so that he was again aimed at her lips,
and she opened and proceeded to gobble him down like some adult film version of a sword
swallower. With him over her head this way, it straightened out her throat enough so she
didn't have nearly as much bend at the back of her mouth, and she simply swallowed as she
urged him closer and closer until she had him down to where her nose was buried in his balls,
ten inches of hard Quinn-meat down her greedy throat.
          Then she started rocking herself back and forth enough to set up some friction. (She'd
almost thrown up the first time she tried this, but it had impressed her date so much, she'd
kept practicing until she'd thoroughly mastered her gag reflex.) She kept at it for almost thirty
seconds before she pushed at his hips to get him to back off enough for her to get a deep
breath.
          Licking at his cock as it hung over her face, she panted and laughed, “Dios, you're
fun!”
          “I was going to say that about you,” he replied with a grin.
          “Come back here,” she told him, and she proceeded to swallow him down again.
          Quinn wished his arm was long enough for him to reach her crotch as he'd love to give
her a bit of manual encouragement, but he didn't want to ruin her trick by putting pressure on
her from leaning that far over her at this angle. Besides, she wasn't shy. If she wanted, she
could reach.
          Still, if he had her judged correctly, she'd want to do this at least a couple more times.
She hadn't beaten him in the ring, so she probably wanted him to cry 'No mas' before she was
through in the bedroom.
          He felt her throat contract around him a couple of times as she bobbed deeply on him,
then she pushed him back again.
          “Whadda you think?” she purred, looking up past his erection and laughing wickedly as
she ran her tongue along the length of him.
          “I thought you were the one who didn't want me talking,” he replied. “Especially when
a Latina bitch kitty has her teeth near mi verga... ¿verdad?”
          She grinned and said easily, “Oh, this bitch kitty's kinda decided she likes this verga,
even if he does wear un vestido when he's fighting.”
          “A ten million dollar vestido, remember?” he teased. “And besides, isn't it more una
falda?”
          She gave him another sensuous lick and asked, “How about if we get rid of all the
clothes and then we see who's better?”
          He chuckled and reminded her, “I thought you were wanting a little applause for your
performance. I'm happy to give you whatever kind of applause you like, bonita.”
          “If you gimme the applause I want, the evening would be over for a while.”
          “I doubt that,” he assured her. “It probably wouldn't even slow it down for more than a
moment.”
          “Bullshit,” she said with a smile that told him she didn't believe him but it was okay.
“You probably needed every minute since the arena just to be able to get back up again. I
know 'cuz I was there... remember?”
          He shrugged in an unoffended manner.
          “Hey, I offered. Don't call 'bullshit' and then claim it's my fault you don't get what you
want.”
          She looked like she still didn't believe him but she wouldn't back down from a friendly
challenge like this.
          “Okay. Give it to me... right here,” she told him, and made kissing motions then
opened wide.
          Loosening his control on his nerve block, he slid in into her smiling lips once again,
then started to pump himself into her mouth—not as deeply as she'd swallowed him before,
but deep enough to get plenty of stimulation. Knowing how some women in this position liked
the illusion, he went ahead and put his hands on her throat to help hold her in place.
          “Tienes dulces labios, amorosa,” he told her and was pleased when he felt her purr
over his compliment.
          It didn't take but a moment before he was ready to pop.
          “Okay, gorgeous... here's your applause,” he told her as he backed off until he had only
a couple of inches in her mouth, and he began jacking himself into her lips.
          It was quite the ovation because she kept sucking and swallowing his oddly sweet
tasting cum far longer than she thought he'd possibly manage, especially when she knew
very well he'd had one hell of a climax less than two hours ago.
          He gave a pleased chuckle as she sucked the last drop from him and gave a very
satisfied sigh.
          Quinn rolled his shoulders and neck a moment, then motioned for her to shift around
end-for-end.
          “Okay. Halftime's over,” he told her.
          She assumed that he was going to return the favor and maybe give her a little oral
himself, and she was good with that. Actually, she tended to come a little better when a guy
(or occasional gal) went down on her, so she'd cut him some slack if he needed to give
himself some time to bounce back.
          She got herself turned around and scooted down so she was at the edge of the bed.
          “What d' you got for me, p...?” She stopped herself, realizing she'd almost called him
'papi' automatically, and she felt oddly reluctant to test his earlier warning.
          To her surprise, he moved up close and ran the head of his still-hard cock up and down
her outer lips, parting them until he was in position and could begin to push.
          “You weren't lying!” she exclaimed in delight.
          As he gave a firm shove and her breath caught, he commented, “I won't take offense.”
          She'd had him inside her before, but this time she was in a position where they both
had lots of control. It made for an even better experience.
          She raised her knees high and wide, giving him all the room he needed, and looking up
at him from the flat of her back, she decided he actually wasn't bad looking at all. He wasn't
pretty like some of the men she'd had, but he was a sexy kind of attractive. He looked a bit
like a refugee from a fantasy movie. It was really his attitude that made him so damned hard
to resist. He knew he was good at what he did but didn't have the swagger or arrogance that
went with an inflated ego.
          He took her legs and brought them up and together so he could hold onto them, the
backs of her legs against his torso until her feet were up near his left shoulder. This tightened
her up around him and made him feel even bigger to her, and she gave a “damn!” kind of
moan as her head dropped back and she adjusted to this new feeling.
          She didn't take very long to adjust as he was stroking right across her most sensitive
spots and she was well on her way to orgasm in very little time. It was also why she usually
needed toys and privacy to come in a big way. She came easily which made sex fun for her
but seldom exceptional. It was much harder for her to have the really big orgasms because
she usually went off too early to get to them. Toys let her do exactly what she needed to hold
back long enough.
          Quinn had done what she'd needed earlier. Now she hoped he'd do the same without
the audience and the tartan wrap.
          His hips started moving more vigorously, and she felt herself go right past the first spot
where her body normally climaxed, and she started making noises of encouragement to urge
him on, telling him wordlessly how she liked what he was doing.
          At this rate, it might be almost as good as what they'd done in the ring earlier, but she
didn't expect to hit such a high again, certainly not so soon. They no longer had that first time
excitement or the tension that being in competition brought. And this time, she was here of
her own free will, and while having a choice was nice, the forbidden nature of earlier had
added a lot of spice to the whole event and made her orgasms that much greater.
          He had every intention of surprising her again.
          Quinn had resolved to not “cheat” with Angel by triggering any climaxes through his
neural induction Talent because that wasn't what she needed. No, he realized she was a
different case by her reactions in the ring. But he wasn't against getting a bit of “inside
information”, so he slipped down her neural connections to see what was happening in her
sexy mind.
          He could tell the difference to a “normal” female's nervous system immediately. Her
nerves were firing at a much faster rate than he normally encountered. Her senses were
pumping impulses to her brain at an accelerated rate, and her body was sending huge
quantities of tactile information to her pleasure center. It was no wonder she liked sex. Her
system was designed for it.
          She was ready to come at any moment, but she was resisting.
          He had to be amused because she was playing Quinn's own game... holding off to
make things better at the end. The longer it took, the better it tended to be at the finish.
The trick was to get her right to the edge and then hold her there without pushing her
over.
          It was his kind of game.
          By now, he had her moaning loudly, mashing her own breasts in her hands as she
started to writhe in pleasure, both wanting to come but hoping to hold off as well.
          Quinn could help her with that. He found the nexus that triggered her sexual release
and without messing with any impulses entering the area, he stopped the particular cluster of
nerves from letting go and allowing her to orgasm.
          With any luck, this would not just help her to enjoy the ride longer, it would also let her
body get completely in synch with itself so her climax would be big and wet. There was no
greater sign of sexual appreciation in Quinn's book.
          The part he hadn't expected was that Angel didn't take nearly as long as he'd figured to
get there. She was rocking hard to meet his strokes, her ass hitting his hips with a meaty
impact and grunting with the effort, her vagina squeezing around him tight and her juices
flowing, her hot bitch kitty pussy begging to explode at any moment.
          When he checked her nerves again, she wasn't able to get any higher. Now she was
fighting to come, ready to let go and enjoy the ride down the other side.
          So he simply let go of both her block and his own at the same moment and joined her
in glorious, soul-shaking climax.
          Angel screamed as she arched her back up off the bed and ejaculated as hard as
she'd ever known. She even felt his cock as it jerked within her, pumping his cum deep inside
her grasping panocha. Her body torqued as her hands clamped down hard on her fabulous
breasts, doing everything she could to express the sensation that overwhelmed her.
          She kept coming for fifteen... twenty... twenty-five seconds... all as he emptied his balls
inside her, his orgasm less than ten minutes ago the only thing stopping him from flooding her
internally.
          Then she dropped heavily to the bed and swore (in English this time), “Oh... fuck!”
          He panted a moment but quickly brought his breathing back under control as he
laughed silently and agreed, saying, “I second that.”
          “What's so funny?” she wanted to know.
          “Not funny. Just fun,” he told her.
          She clenched the muscles lining her vagina as if she were doing Kegel exercises
which she wouldn't have any reason to learn. (He didn't think she'd had a child. Those
breasts were too high and firm, gravity not having a chance to take its toll yet at her age.
They didn't have that homey, lived-in look, nor did she show any sign of stretch marks.)
          “And not just because of your exceptional sapo,” he told her with another laugh.
          “Oh, no?” she asked as she squeezed him again and gave a little shudder as an
aftershock of pleasure ran through her.
          “No,” he admitted. “Fun because I didn't expect to like the lady who lives behind those
eyes.”
          She clearly wasn't buying.
          “Oh, stop with the bullshit! You just like it that I like to fuck.” Still, she seemed pleased.
Her nipples were still up and happy.
          “It doesn't hurt,” he agreed but didn't go any further. He didn't want to scare her off.
          She started to gyrate her hips until she felt him slipping out of her.
          Damn. He'd been fun to tease that way.
          “You're not ready again, are you?” he asked.
          “I'm ready all the time, Quien. Haven't you figured that out yet?” she said with a big
grin.
          He realized that when she wasn't having sex, she liked to talk sex. It kept the juices
flowing for her and made her feel naughty. He'd known many women like that and he had no
problem so long as it wasn't just a long litany of vulgarity. He didn't mind swearing in bed but
he objected when a woman continued to whine, “Fuck me! Fuck me!” when the bed was
already shaking.
          “Well then... if that's the case...”
          He took a moment to do a quick system's check, kicked his circulation to his sexual
apparatus into a higher gear and sluiced out many of the fatigue toxins that he'd been building
up. His prostate began to recover and his testicles began to do their job at an accelerated
rate as well, replacing the sperm he'd spent moments before.
          He took his largely limp dick and started rubbing it along her labia again, and she gave
him a look that said clearly she didn't believe he was good for anything more than talk for a
bit. She did enjoy the sensation of his cum leaking slowly from her as he ran the head of his
cock along her lips that way. It lubricated him and made the slippery friction he created feel
especially wicked.
          “You like teasing me like that, don't you?” she taunted, and she humped her hips
against his pressure as if daring him to do anything more, knowing that unless he had taken a
whole handful of those little blue pills without her knowing, he was a spent force for the next
ten to twenty minutes, even if he did feel interested in more.
          Then he shifted his rubbing the head of his cock a bit lower, the slick glans spreading a
layer of his sperm over her anus which puckered and tightened at the touch.
          She found herself needing to tease him to feel superior for the moment.
          “Ooh! Somebody's got some nasty thoughts. You like my culo, don't you? Yeah... you
liked that earlier. Too bad you're not ready for it yet, huh?”
          She gave him a comical, teasing pout at his not being able to fuck her in the ass that
instant.
          And the magic word is...
          He triggered his body's sexual reflex, and he began swelling quickly. He was still slick
and slightly sticky from the combination of his semen and her secretions so he wouldn't need
more lubricant.
          Her view was blocked by her raised legs but she felt the head of the cock that was limp
just moments before pressing at her asshole, and she was sure he was pressing it there with
his fingers.
          Then she realized it couldn't be that way because his wet digits were sliding into her
upper opening.
          He told her, “Let's get you warmed up a bit first.”
          And he started masturbating her firmly, his fingers running back and forth across her g-spot.
          He got the reaction he was hoping for, or rather more than he'd been hoping for as she
started squirming in his grip, moving much more than he'd intended.
          “Okay! A little too warm. I appreciate a moving target as much as anyone, but...”
          He took hold of her shin to hold her steady, and she could see both hands, yet the
pressure was back, and she had the realization that maybe she shouldn't have teased him so
much.
          Quinn pressed forward, and Angel's over-used culo gave a sharp pang as the head
started trying to push its way into her.
          I definitely shouldn't have teased.
          She pled, “No-no-no! Please... I don't think mi nalgas can take it right now.”
          He stopped and looked at her as if considering.
          “I don't know. I did enjoy it a lot in the ring, and you were just saying how it was too
bad I wasn't ready for it.”
          She realized he was teasing, but when he started to push again, she squealed, “¡Ay,
no! I'm sorry I teased, okay?”
          In answer, he shifted his aim slightly and pushed firmly, sliding into her cunt almost full
length in one push.
          Her hands both went to the bed and her fingers dug into the covers as her body
tensed, her panocha tightening around him like a vise.
          And he started to fuck her, but not like earlier which had been at an easy, moderate
pace. Now he was going to see if he could make her cry “¡no mas!”
          He started at a quick speed, shaking her with the impact of his hips, and her head went
back to the bed as she arched up, frozen there as he ravaged her trembling body. Angel
would start to adjust to what he was doing, but then he'd do something that would make her
breath catch and put her off-balance yet again, unable to relax into her rhythm and get
comfortable.
          Her first orgasm struck in less than a minute, and it wasn't a small one. It brought a cry
of “¡Dios!” from her, and she was a bit shaken by it, like they were back in the ring again,
unsure of what was going to happen next.
          Then he paused barely long enough to shift her up and over, putting her on her knees
so he could stroke into her from behind. He didn't push her down into a submissive posture,
but instead he had her where both his hands were useful, and one hand was groping her
breasts mercilessly while the other began treating her clit like his personal toy. His hips kept
pounding into her, shaking her, making her bring a hand up to get it behind his neck so she
could hold herself in position as she whimpered.
          And each time he decided he wanted her to come, his fingers would trap her erect clit
and mash it into her pubic bone, and she'd shout out and flop almost uncontrollably.
          She held out for less than ten minutes. She'd fucked men far longer in the past, but
she'd never been plain old out-fucked before... or at least not since her NESTS treatments. It
was the first time she'd found a man who could wear her out.
          And when he felt his own climax finally rising, he cruelly mashed her pearl one last
time, she tensed and then jerked hard enough to move the bed as she squirted and came
gloriously as he pumped the last vestige of his semen deep inside her.
          She couldn't manage the words, but she waved her hand in surrender, her face buried
in the covers of the messy bed, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her breath.
          He moved back and his tool pulled from her with an obscene shlorp! as he stood
looking down at her twitching form.
          She was still trying to recover when she felt him climb onto the bed and gather her into
his arms, gently crooning to her and comforting her.
          “It's okay... everything's fine, sweetheart.”
          She finally recovered sufficiently to slap him on the chest and call him, “¡Cabrón!”
(“Bastard!”) But she curled up, put her cheek on his shoulder, her upper arm and leg going
over him as she told him, “I should be mad at you. That's twice in one day.”
          He said with unexpected gentleness, “You could have said 'stop' at any time, bonita.”
          “Yeah. I could have,” she admitted aloud, but thought to herself, Like that was gonna
happen.
