Playground Games

He actually promised. lol.

Army was barely listening, too lost in pleasure to really know what he was saying. At this stage, she could probably get him to agree to just about anything... so long as she avoided pulling him out of his reverie with "Carmen,” “Clyde,” or any other words that made him think of things he absolutely did not want to think about during sex.

Not that she could blame him. He was right on the precipice now. Even if he weren’t squirming and shifting and struggling to take a full breath, or even if she were wearing noise canceling headphones and a red satin blindfold, she could feel his orgasm building- the twitching, the pulsing, how hard he was getting in her mouth. She could always tell when guys were about to cum while she sucked them off, probably even more precisely than they themselves knew. It was a peculiar talent, but handy; it was especially useful for avoiding a sudden mouthful from dudes who were too lost in the moment to announce themselves.

Carefully, she removed herself from between his legs, adjusting herself until her body was perpendicular to his. But even as she moved, her head never left his cock; it continued its relentless bobbing, unchanging except for an ever-so-slight reduction in intensity designed to keep Army teetering on the edge. Then, when she had settled into her new position, she attacked him with a renewed fervor.

She could have stopped; there were a lot of good reasons to stop. It would have been hilarious, first of all. Orgasms usually relaxed him, and sometimes they got him soft for a bit; blued-balls, on the other hand, would make him more aggressive, and she didn’t come all this way just to get fingered against a wall.

But she couldn’t stop herself any more than he would have been able to stop himself. It wasn’t just that she was good at blowjobs, and that she liked giving them. Sucking dick turned her on. Every reaction she elicited- vocal, corporeal, voluntary and in- fed right back into her own lust. If she was wet for him before, she was positively aching for him now. She continued to speed up, matching the pace of her boyfriend’s own quickening breaths. And, two ticks before he exploded, when Army heralded his arrival at the point of no return with that tell-tale gasp of his, Amy pulled away from his cock with a gasp of her own, entrusting her hand with the privilege of guiding his orgasm in with wild, rapid twists.

When his penis began to jerk beneath her hand, and it erupted with the first spurt of his orgasm, Amy almost came herself.

She watched his semen shoot up like a geyser, enraptured and fascinated. Didn’t guys run out? How did Army always have so much fucking cum, even after all the work she put in at draining him every night? Each pull of her hand was met with another splatter of jizz, and, by the time he was finally finished, her hand was practically covered in it. She had to laugh- “Dude,” -before wiping it clean on her jeans.

Amy had to take a moment to catch her breath. Then she turned to meet his eyes with a smug expression on her face. “You gonna be okay there, Ace?” She teased with a voice of mock concern, knowing full well that he was going to be just fine. “We’re paying for two hours of room, you know. Oops,” she kissed his abs. “I mean, you’re paying for. Thanks babe.”

”Oh, shit, I’m, I’m-”

Coming was the word Army was looking for, but as he laid there with Amy’s tongue working its magic, he was having a hard time getting it out. Most of the time, he would’ve been a little bit worried about going to soon, leading to a possibly nasty incident with Amy’s tastebuds...but that never seemed to be a problem with her. Whether it was in the bedroom or in the wrestling, she had the most amazing instincts.

Especially when it came to him. Amy knew his body so well, she could’ve written a manual.

His mind was too frazzled and frayed to register her position anymore, but she must have moved at some point, because when he glanced out of the corner of his eye, she’d shifted to his side. That was the last normal thought he could register, though, because as soon as he did, Amy threw her all into it. She wasn’t just pushing him off the cliff, she was launching him off through a cannon.

He gasped. She gasped. They gasped. Her hand brought him across the finish line, and that was that. The proof of her sexual skills shot into the air, a small scale eruption that fired off in random directions - little flecks landed on his chest, the floor, and, of course, Amy. Not that he was too worried about it, really, they were both quite familiar with that sort of thing, and there was a damn good reason he and Carmen didn’t mix their laundry anymore.

Army sighed and sagged as the energy left him, bringing him down from the thunderous high. Amy was sexual chupacabra - relentless, driven, insane. When they first started dating, he’d wondered why she didn’t have much in the relationships before now, but he figured it out as time passed. Keeping up with her was a challenge, and a lot of guys wouldn’t be up for it. But she was worth the trouble, and not just for the out-of-this-world sex. Though, that was definitely a serious part of it.

Back to reality.

”Haaaaaa...hm?” He’d been drifting for a moment, enough that he’d missed the first few words of what Amy said. Enough to get the gist, though. ”Fuck it. I’m getting my money’s worth, I don’t mind.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a few more deep breaths, kicking off his boxers and pants while he did - he wouldn’t be needing those for awhile, most likely. And on that note…

Army sat up, reached behind Amy’s head, and pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t a hard one - not nearly as hard as it could’ve been with the two of them - but there was growing lust in it, burning hotter with each second. He was down, now, but he was rapidly working his way back up, and he knew just what to do while his batteries recharged.

After a few moments, he managed to pull his lips away from hers, long enough to whisper her way. ”Your turn, now.”’ His other hand reached behind her back and started to search, as he began to push forward. ”Ready?”

Amy was leaning back now. Army’s advance had pushed her backward until her back was up against the foot of the bed. He held her close, his arm a cage around her, and neither of them could breathe air that didn’t carry the other’s scent. She wanted him to kiss her again, but she didn’t make a move.

Instead, Amy grinned. “I’m ready. Are you ready?” She reached down between them without breaking eye contact. Nope, he wasn’t ready. She flopped him irreverently back and forth. “Can’t believe you used to do hentai matches before I came along. What’s it been, like two minutes since we got here?”

It was true, the male body did have some limits. Amy was hot, unbelievably hot, nuclear hot, but that didn’t mean he could just rise to the occasion at will. Batteries needed recharging. His system had to reset.

That didn’t mean he was going to sit around and chit-chat while they waited. If this was the last he’d see of Amy for three months, Army intended to make the two hours count and get every little bit of her he could. When it came to her, he was greedy.

”I’m getting there.” He jerked his head forward to give her a little headbutt. Not a serious one, but as hard as he knew she would take. Amy wasn’t the sort who liked him going soft on her. Not in any sense, really. ”You’ve got a ways to go back before I can’t get hard for three months. Holding you to that.”

Army took her lips again, and this time pushed her forward and down, pressing her to the floor with one arm while the other explored her chest and found a nice, hard nipple to twerk and tweak. It took him a moment to pull away, but when he did, he started moving down her body, planting a few kisses along her stomach until he reached her pants. She’d helped him a bit by getting rid of the shirt earlier, and now he had to finish the job. Those jeans, as much as he loved the way they hugged her legs, had to go.

”Two minutes can be a long time.” He seized her pants, unbuttoned and unzipped them, then started to peel them off. ”Bet I can beat it.”

Army responded to her gloating with a quick headbutt, knocking her head back into the bed. Amy gave a shocked cry, followed by incredulous laughter. “You-” And anything else she might have wanted to get out was muted by the sudden intervention of Army’s lips.

She met them eagerly. He was leading her to the floor, and she went willingly, easing herself to the ground with an arm around the back of his neck for support. He was a good kisser; as Army was fond of saying, they fit well with each other. When he wanted to kiss tenderly, she was as sweet as candy. And when he was a rampaging animal, she was too, meeting his aggression head-on, newton for newton. It hardly ever happened, but whenever Amy ever found herself at a lower level of lust than Army, she was quick to compensate; there was rarely a time when there wasn’t an equal and opposite force to greet him at the other end of either of his lips, and vice versa.

Of course, this balance was usually predicated on their playing the same game. As it were, Army’s fingers crawled their way over to her bare nipple and began to play with it- twisting, teasing, tweaking- shooting bolts of ecstasy through her body and tipping the scales in his favor. Amy gasped, but, instead of air, Amy got a mouthful of Army’s tongue, and Amy found herself overwhelmed with her sudden need to moan, her pressing need to breathe, and her persistent need to kiss. She was on her heels here; like Army said, it was her turn, and that meant it was Army’s chance to press the attack. By the time he pulled mercifully away from her lips, she was dizzy from her combined arousal and lack of air. “You fucker,” she gasped.

Army wasn’t done, of course. He kissed his way down her chest, over her navel, and started to undo her pants. Amy propped herself up on her elbows to watch. Despite finally getting the air as she needed, Amy found herself holding her breath with anticipation.

Amy lifted her hips and, with some effort, pulled her jeans down over her ass; she left it to him to pull them the rest of the way off. She had to agree; two minutes was forever. But- “And I bet... you’re full of shit.” Not so convincing, considering that she had to pause for breath in the middle of her own sentence, but Amy wasn’t about to back down from a thrown gauntlet just because she was already halfway there.

As Army worked Amy’s pants away, he couldn’t help but marvel at how different Amy was from pretty every woman he’d ever been with. She was smaller. Lighter. Whiter, with the exception of a girl he’d met during Spring Break, just before he came to the AFW.  She didn’t have meaty, voluptuous legs or swelling hips or the kind of body you’d expect to see in some music video, dancing around in the background to a beat they probably couldn’t even hear.

He preferred it that way. He knew these legs were lethal, that they could knock him flat out and kick the shit out of him. He knew their owner was the wildest, fiercest woman he’d ever met - in the ring, on the bed, in the street, everywhere she went. When the world saw Amy at a glance, all they noticed was a cute, sweet looking blonde girl, innocent as could be...but he knew better. So much better.

”Heh, fucker.” He had a dark chuckle and continued peeling her pants off, placing a few kisses on her thigh as he moved. Just because. ”I like how you call me that now. Right now.”

Off they came, and he was given unrestricted access to one of his top five favorite parts of Amy’s body - well, after he got past Minnie Mouse, at least. Oddly, the cutesy underwear made him more into this, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

But he was sure how he felt about her little challenge. ”I’m sorry, what was that?” He started pulling down her panties and ran a tentative tongue over her sex. ”Kind of hard to hear you over all the gasping.”

Before they’d started dating- back when they were just casual fuckbuddies- Amy had a pretty good sense of what to expect from Army in bed: bullheaded, straightforward, and powerful; basically exactly like he was in public. And, for the most part, Army did nothing to challenge that assumption. Their typical encounter: he’d call her over to the Rodriguez gym after hours for a spar, they’d fight until they were both uncontrollably turned on, then rut like angry wild boars. They’d chat idly while staring up at the rafters, too, but not until after they’d each had their fill.

But as the visits became more frequent, and he started to invite her, not just to fights / booty calls at his gym, but to video games in his apartment, or out for a movie, dinner, drinks, Amy’s impression of Army began to evolve, refined with the nuances that she was able to observe from their nonsexual time together. He was still brash and cocky, but he was also competitive; he enjoyed a challenge more than he enjoyed just winning outright. He was stubborn, sure, but he listened, too (at least to her. Army seemed to take pleasure in his tiny rebellions against his sister). And, while she was mostly right about Army: the lover, she discovered that, when their foreplay wasn’t blood-rousing combat, Army could be patient in bed.

It didn’t surprise her to learn that he was orally and digitally talented; that much she could tell from their first meeting. What did surprise her was his willingness to take it slow, to take his time, especially considering how he fought and how insatiable his sexual appetite was. She never expected to see Army- raring-to-go Army- so focused and relaxed, stretching out time like a chef pulling noodles. He was perfectly content to kneel on the floor in front of her and experiment- to press a finger against a wall to see how she would react, to determine where to place his tongue to make her moan loudest, squirm hardest, through deliberate trial and error- and in absolutely no rush at all. It was an incredible turn on to see this contrast. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drive her crazy with sex; it was a complete shock to learn that he could do it with just the anticipation of sex.

Two minutes really was forever- it wouldn’t even be a record for him.

When the world saw Army at a glance, they saw an overconfident loudmouth with more muscles than sense, and, to be honest, they weren’t too far off the mark. But Army was also sensitive, considerate, attentive. He was warm, and he had his soft spots, as much as he didn’t like to admit to them. And he cared so much for the people that were close to him. This was the Army that only she was allowed to see, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Despite her belligerent words, Amy had no intention of trying to keep herself from orgasm. On the contrary; she opened her knees nice and wide so that he would have full, unfettered access. She kicked off her shoes and placed a single foot flat on his back, just below the base of his neck, so that she could communicate “harder” or “softer” without having to say a word. And, as much as she would have liked to grab him by his hair and shove his cocksure little face right into her snatch, the truth was that Army knew exactly what he was doing, had calibrated his already considerable oral talents to be optimized with her, and it was better to leave him to go at his own pace. So, instead, she clenched her right hand into a fist and held it against to her lips, her elbow pressed firmly into her right breast. Her left clutched the frame of the bed in case she’d end up needing the anchor.

When he slipped Minnie off of her, her body shivered expectantly. And, when Army licked her, she cried out. Her hips lifted despite herself, an automatic attempt to rub her pussy against his tongue, even though it had already retreated back into his smug little face. Bastard. “I said…" she began, despite having forgotten what she'd said. "I said, 'tick-tock, Army.'” Amy hoped she didn’t sound nearly as desperate as she felt.

Amy might’ve been putting up a little show, egging him on, trying to get a rise out of him - to be fair, she was ridiculously good at that, even better than Felina, though her unfettered access to his man parts gave Amy an advantage that no cousin could ever duplicate.

But he knew her, in just about every way you could know another person. Amy was begging for it. Not with her words, never with her words, she was way too cool for that. Her body was honest as ever, though, and that was the cool thing about them both - they were both bullshitters, with enough experience in their craft to recognize to not be easily fooled by their own tricks. She might’ve openly challenged him, but if she didn’t want what he was throwing out, there were a dozen and a half thing she could’ve done to hinder him. Instead, her legs were spread wide and her body was inviting. She couldn’t have been easier to read if she’d handed him instructions.

With a quick chuckle at a words, he went right to business, diving in with a wild and reckless tongue. His lips pressed against her entrance and he dove in, exploring all the familiar territory, dragging along the sides and he worked his way further down, then pulling out. Breath. Lick. Dive. Repeat. Harder and faster each time, driving her to a new height then lifting her up even further. It was hot, heavy work, and while he wasn’t exactly timing it with a clock, he was fairly certain he’d made his mark.

From there, things went into a predictable but no less enjoyable pattern, as Amy and Army let their lust run wild throughout the room. The bed took the worst of it, with its covers in disarray and the mattress starting to slip over the frame and its creaky springs, which probably weren’t that damn creaky before they’d come along. One of the sheets was tied to the headboard, wrapped around it in knots when they both decided to throw a little bondage into the mix. A reading table had found its way into the kitchenette, where it had been used in ways reading tables weren’t made to be used. Even the lamp in the corner hadn’t been spared, as it lay on the floor with a broken bulb. There’d been a little argument between them on who would have to pay for that, which, of course, led to a contest, and, well...more sex.

Now their time was coming to an end, and it was time to wash up and leave. To move things along a little faster, they decided to shower at the same time, an idea that ultimately proved to not make a damn bit of difference, since they had to get one more in while they were hot and wet and naked. They both came out clean, just not as clean they’d intended.

Now Army found himself on the bed, drying off and scanning the room to try and figure out where his underwear and shoes had run off to. It was a little hard to look, though, because his eyes kept wanting to focus on Amy and stay there. She could be distracting like that.

He felt he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Amy’d never been a fan of hearing sappy shit and he’d never been a fan of saying it. Still, this was the last time he’d see her for months. Long months.

”I wish we never had to leave this room.”

It just sort of came out as he stared at the floor and caught his breath. But he meant it.

Amy fixed her hair in the mirror, a baby blue hair tie hanging loosely from her mouth. It was quiet now, which wasn’t unusual in and of itself; sometimes Amy liked to take time to process, to relive, to revisit, to reminisce. But this didn’t feel like that- that quiet usually took place immediately after, while she was still panting into his neck, sweating into his arms... wanting to pull away because they were hot and sweaty and gross, staying right where she was because she liked the way he smelled, the way his chest heaved against hers, the weight of him. No, this felt different somehow; not uncomfortably so, but definitely off.

Maybe it was the contrast that was so jarring. It was practically silent now, but the past almost-two hours was a marathon of uninhibited moans, grunts, gasps, expletives, and, yes, sometimes screams. The vocal workout lasted right up to the end of their session, allowing them the chance to take advantage of the bathroom’s excellent acoustics. The oversized shower stall- which stood separate from the luxurious tub- was built to accommodate 3, maybe even up to 4 open-minded people. Inside, some enterprising mind had put in a stone bench, some slip-resistant tiling, and grab bars on every surface. Shower sex was a logistical and mechanical nightmare at the best of times, but this hotel did its best to make it as accessible as possible. Could be worth a return trip here; there was no substitute for the Rodriguez gym after hours (especially since dating Army may have developed something of a fetish for fucking in a boxing ring in her, for better or worse), but Amy had to admit that being able to scream out her lungs without having to worry about Carmen or Felina somehow hearing was nice.

But it wasn’t that, either. This feeling was difficult to get a handle on. It felt wistful… longing? And while they never really took each other in moderation, didn’t their sex feel extra desperate, extra hungry, kind of like how a bear stuffs itself in preparation for the winter months? It made sense; three months would far and away be the longest she’d gone without sex since moving to Japan, maybe even before then. More significantly, the next three months would be the longest Amy and Army had ever gone without seeing each other since they met, and Amy wasn’t exactly eager to get started.

Army must have been feeling the same way, because he broke the silence with a sentence that encapsulated her thoughts perfectly. “Hmm.” Amy responded noncommittally, taking an extra long moment to finish tying up her hair. When she finished, she turned around. Army was sitting on the edge of bed, completely naked except for his socks. His jeans sat in a heap beside him and a towel hung limply from his shoulder. He looked a little shell-shocked, something she would have loved to take credit and tease him for in any other context. He wasn’t meeting her eyes, which was the weirdest part, especially since she knew for a fact he was checking her out up to just a moment ago.

Amy, in contrast, was fully dressed and ready to go. She had already decided to route their return trip through the little shopping alley by the shrine so that they could pick-up a hoodie or something for Army on the way back, since it'd probably be cold out by now. Her jeans were stained with the faint scent of his blood and semen; an olfactory tapestry of a great date, but something she’d definitely want to change out of before dinner when they got back. At least she smelled clean now.

She walked over to where he sat, stopping briefly to pick his boxers up from the floor and press them into his chest, then plopped onto the bed beside him. She wasn’t in any rush, despite the fact that the hotel would gladly charge for the next half hour in 5 minutes, and despite the fact that they were probably going to be late for dinner. She swept her fingers lightly through his wet hair,- his hair looked really good wet- sweeping it back in the way that she liked and brushing stray feathers from the pillow they'd accidentally exploded off of his shoulders. Then she ran her fingers down his back, tracing them gently over the mesh of angry red welts that her nails had left behind at some point in the past almost-two hours.

Then she flopped backwards with a sigh, stretching her arms straight past her head. “Yeah, I know. The next three months are gonna suck.” She’d waved off his anxiety at the park, assuring him that they’d be apart for hardly any time at all, but she’d been lying- to him, to herself, if only to fool themselves into feeling better about what was to come. But three months was an eternity, and the truth was that she would miss this too, and Skype was a sorry substitute for the real thing.

But what else was there? Amy pulled out her phone, opened the clock app, then put her phone face-down on her chest. Three months was a long time, and they would miss and want each other the whole time that they were apart, and that was just something that they would have to deal with. Video conferencing, for all of its limitations, would be a way for them to stay connected, however tenuous that connection may be. Amy searched the ceiling for a better solution, knowing full well that there wasn't one, with her arms still stretched out above her.

Silence. It was always the worst, rarest thing between Army and Amy. They're relationship was built around action - fighting and fucking and taunting and talking and playing and just staying on the move, constantly and consistently. Putting the brakes on that, even for a minute, felt wrong.

As she laid down beside him, he briefly considered seeing if she might go one more time. She probably would, five minutes or not. He could give her a joke, maybe a challenge, whisper in her ear, then she'd spark up and they'd be at it like jackrabbits. Carmen would bitch, sure, but one of her rants would be a small price to pay..

No. No, this was hard enough as it was without him dragging it out.

He pulled on his underwear and pants as he watched her lay on the bed, probably thinking what he was thinking. He liked talking with Amy, and the chat would help him get that fix, but it wouldn't replace the fun adventures they went on, the fights they had, and those hot and heady nights on the canvas. They'd became addicted to each other, and now they had to go cold turkey.

He hung a towel over his shoulder and plopped back down on the bed, landing hard enough to make her bounce. With a sigh to compliment her own, he placed a hand on her stomach and pressed against her shirt, feeling the smooth contours underneath and the smooth skin.

”Whoever said that crap about absence and the heart growing fonder was full of shit, yeah.” Army moved his hand up, joining hers with the phone, pressing enough to feel her heartbeat. So small, but so powerful. ”Just be sure you don't get soft while you're away from me. Because when you get back…”

Army leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Amy’s, looking eye to eye with his girlfriend, his best friend, and his rival. ”I'm taking all the fries.”