Something Spicy

”Bite down?” Thorn did her best mock pout, though she could never quite get that look right. It was hard to look innocent with her size. ”You mean you don’t want to hear me-”

For the first time, Lylamanaged to take her off guard, as she reached over and exposed her bad eye. The gesture had Thorn stunned for a precious moment. While she wasn’t ashamed of it, didn’t go out of her way to hide, people tended to look away from it and focus on the many far more pleasing aspects of her body. She couldn’t recall anyone ever doing that, looking at it intentionally. A simple gesture, and somehow, one of the hottest things this woman had done for her.

She didn’t want to sour the mood, but she filed it away for later. That would be coming back in the Irish lass’ favor.

”Fuck, tag us all in.” Thorn came back soon enough, sitting up and letting the lewd thoughts back in. ”Four of us in a hotel room with enough drinks for a weekend. Sounds like a real good time.”

It was a wicked fantasy, but half of it was coming true, here and now. When Lyla slapped her thigh, Thorn let her legs open wider and placed a hand on hers to move it higher, urging her to explore. ”That a fact? Walk me through it.” She finished off the last drops of her glass and lazily sat it aside, giving full attention. ”We’re on the bed, wrestling. You get me over, on top. Now what? How’s a little thing like you keeping a big thing like me on my back?”

"I am sure I will hear you plenty fine. It's not like I am smothering you. I can do that too though. You seemed to like my tits enough last time." Lyla hooked a finger over the lip of her top, tugging the shirt open to give Thorn a small flash of her smooth black bra beneath. "I didn't hear you complaining anyhow… unless you bit down on something, I guess."

"Maybe. She isn't exactly the orgy sort of girl. One of those romantic sorts… I don't think she could handle three of us at once. Probably couldn't even handle two of us." Lyla formed a class with her hand, gripping the top of her glass along the edges with her fingertips. With a flick of her wrist she gave it a spin, letting it wildly twirl up onto it's bottom corner to spin like a top.

The glass was left to spin itself out as her palm roamed up Thorn's thigh, fingertips prowling at the edge of her shorts. Lyla smirked, slipping off her stool to stand between Thorn's spread legs, gliding her other hand up her exposed thigh.

"You make it sound like it would be hard to do… like you wouldn't want to stay down if I was on top of you." She Rose up onto the balls of her feet, tip toes of her boots to whisper in Thorn's ear. "Inside of you. You may have made me pass out, but I saw the footage. I had you so damn good, you would have been begging for more." Then she leaned back with a smirk. "Or I could just wrap my legs around your head and squeeze until you pass out."

Thorn put a hand to her own generous chest with a look of shock, feigning offense. ”Fucking loved your tits, couldn’t tell back then? Fault’s on me.”  She looked down at the pair, properly appreciating them, before her eyes wandered back up to Lyla’s face. ”Easy fix, though.”

Thorn ran a finger under her chin, contemplating possibilities as things progressed the way they were always going to. There was only so long the two of them could go without being all over each other, after all. Time to give in. ”Give your girl some credit, she might surprise you. Surprised me twice, hate to admit.” Thorn chuckled at the memory, recalling how the Briton managed to get the jump on her back to back in their match. Rose had chided her on it, and no, there was no getting around the facts - the smaller woman had been working her well for a fair bit. She shut it down before it could get out of hand, but it was a good effort all the same.

She bit her lip as Lyla moved in close and started playing her games, moving in close and getting at Thorn’s ear. Even with all her experience, those whispered words in her ear had her melting. ”Begging? Nah. Taking?” She closed her legs and clasped her ankles together, pulling Lyla in close and giving her a squeeze. Not enough to hurt, not really, but giving her a good idea of the power in her lower body and hinting at so much more. ”That’s more my-

A catcall rang out across the room, loud and shrill, and more laughter from the college boys in the corner followed. Thorn clinched her teeth and canted her head, looking past Lyla’s reddened hair, and sure enough, they were all having a nice time enjoying the show. Thorn didn’t care about being intimate in public, her first match was proof positive on that. But these assholes, getting a free show? Turned her stomach.

”Fuckers.” It came out as a growling whisper, as she leaned back as well and reached under Lyla’s shirt, running an idle hand over her stomach. Most times, she wouldn’t have had a problem getting up in their face about shit, but she wasn’t drawing Lyla into something like that. ”You, me, and the bottle, let’s take it to the car. Show me what those legs of yours can do.”

"She did. I liked watching her rough you up a bit. Almost as good as doing it to you myself. Almost." Lyla breathed out hotly, really laying it on. When Thorn's legs came around her she let out a small gasp of mock surprise as if something like this happening was wholly unexpected. She gave the Aussie a wide grin that said otherwise as she slowly moved closer, suckling on her lips to set them with the faintest of pops to…

"Really?" The catcall hadn't stopped her, but Thorn's reaction had. With a lofted brown and a flat look the shameless Irish woman leaned back from her bar mate. She reached back to place a hand on each knee, forcing them apart to free herself from between them. While she hadn't stopped Thorn from slipping a hand just under the lip of her shirt, she didn't stay close enough to let her enjoy it. She backed away, plucking her glass off the table. "Be right back."

Lyla turned abruptly, sauntering off to head towards the distant table of guys, turning the empty glass over in her hands. Her lazily gait was gone, replaced with a more pronounced and intentional sway of her hips. With lidded eyes she looked the men over, recalling them from her initial once over of the patrons. Along the way she hooked her fingers under the back of a chair to drag it with her. She swung it wide in front of her to pull it up to the table, and sat down on it backwards with legs spread wide and arms folded over the back.

"Hey boys. You like what you see?" Lyla smiled, curling a few stray locks of hair around her finger. She set the empty glass down, nudging it closer to the trio. She made it apparent she was sizing them up, which had them straightening up and needlessly sitting in such a way they just happened to flex a bit on display. "I certainly know I do…"

Her fingernail plinked with a resonating tone on her empty glass, one of the men taking the hint and pouring her half a glass from the rum they had on hand. She slid the glass back with a smile and mouthed thank you before taking a sip. "I was looking to have a good time tonight and thought it would be great for us all to have a little fun… but my "friend", well…"

Lyla glanced back to Thorn, giving her a smile. The Aussie had seen her smile before and this didn't seem genuine, intentionally so. When she looked back to the men she pouted. Her mouth opened to say something then closed as if to think better of it. They watched her expectantly and after glancing side to side she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to them. "She was telling me you were all a bunch of needledick fuckboys." Lyla casually sipped the rum, not nearly as good as the whiskey but she was already two glasses down so flavor wasn't too much of a concern at the moment. All three of the men at the table stared at her with narrowed eyes, their gaze all shifting to Thorn.

"Needledick huh?" "Whose a god damn fuckboys?" "Naw babe, she heard wrong."

"Yeah… she gets like that. I wish someone would teach her some humility, you know?" With a wistful sigh she set her glass down, giving the three men another smile. The pink haired girl reached out, placing her hand over one of theirs, running her thumb over the back of his hand. "You know, I have always wanted to try having a bunch of guys at once… maybe if she... goes home early... we can all get a room at one of those love hotels." She was staring at them for a long time as they looked between one another, trying to figure out her meaning. They nodded towards Thorn then looked back to Lyla and she gave them a grin nod in return, confirming their joint suspicions.

Chairs squealed as they were shoved back and all three men stood up, making a big display of getting ready for a tussle. Jackets were adjusted, shoulders rolled, one of them even snapped out his arms to the side and flexed a bit. Puffed up on machismo they brushed past Lyla, trudging straight for Thorn. Kicking one leg up over the back of her chair she spun around, lounging back with one leg over the other empty glass in hand with a shit setting grin on her face.

"Yo, hyperdyke. Seems you can't keep that big mouth of yours shut, so why don't you open it up again for me and the boys or get lost." He gestured to the side as the other two men flanked him, making a big show of seeming imposing. With a nod of the head one of them started to circle around behind the Aussie. "So, what's it going to be, bitch?"

Thorn breathed deep as Lyla pulled away from her, closed her eyes and just let it go. She had been here before. Not this exact situation, but similar ones. Enough to know that look in her companion’s eyes, and hazard a guess on where this was going.

A brawl was coming her way.

That hadn't been the plan when things started out tonight. All her thoughts had been focused on Lyla, on getting to know and having some private time, wanting to keep going down the path they’d started in the arena. She was all about a good fight, and she’d been aching for one - Japan was nice, but the bars tended to be a little clean for that sort of fun, not like the rougher dives back home. That was fine. She could play nice. To a point.

As she sat there, she had the sense that this specific point was being reached. She looked on, watching as Lyla spoke, trying to make out the conversation with her furrowed brow. She wasn’t a master lipreader, but could make out some familiar words - ‘needledick’ stuck out to her - and the look on their faces told enough of the story. Credit where credit’s due, Lyla was playing them like puppets on a string. The look. The little touches. That smile. All that, coming from a body like hers, made for a potent combination. She almost couldn’t blame the dumbasses when it worked.

”Fucking evil.” She muttered under her breath, already standing up as the three blind mice came her way, oozing with machismo, pumped up, reeking of Axe body spray. She rolled her neck about, getting nice and limber, barely looking their way as they pulled up. She knew how this went, no reason to rush into it.

‘Hyperdyke’. That one was new, got a smirk out of her. She didn’t respond to his request, though, even as his buddy’s got in line and started working their way around her. For all their talk, they seemed fairly aware of her being two inches taller than the tallest of them.

Instead, she took the time to finish off her glass, wanting to get in the last few drops and ride out the fight with a full buzz. Thorn brought the glass to her lips and tipped back, taking her time, savoring it.

Some men, though. So impatient. ”The fuck?” Loverboy reached up for her drink, just as she was coming to the last few drops. ”I ain’t playing with you, so just-”

The instant he touched her glasses, Thorn’s other hand shot up like a steeltrap, snatching his finger out of midair and twisting it back in her grip. He let out a scream, a shrill one in a pitch that was far too high for a man his size, and fell to his knees as she twisted his digit in her grasp. He apparently hadn’t learned his lesson a few minutes ago, but that was okay. She was a good learner.

”What’d I say about the finger, shithead?”

The right side of his face was introduced to her glass an instant later, dropping him to the floor and buying her a little time to deal with the other two. The bar was exploding into action all of the sudden, people shouting and pushing and yelling and trying to get a handle on what was going on, but Thorn pushed it all out of her mind to focus on the immediate problems.

Problem #1 was the guy in front of her. Tall, black, looked like he worked out, didn’t have Loverboy’s height, but no stranger to the gym. He was moving on her fast, only taking half a second to check on his wallowing friend before he headed her way.

Problem #2 was the guy who’d been working his way behind her. He was the skinnier sort, a lanky looking asian guy, could’ve been native. Whatever the case, she could’ve laid him out easy, and going off his plan of attack, he seemed to know that. He leaped on her back and attempted a chokehold or...something. It was honestly a little hard to tell what he was going for, one arm around her neck and the other on her face. It was more annoying than anything, but it did buy them time for the guy in front to move in and get a good shot at her stomach, drilling her in the ribs with a sloppy uppercut. It wasn’t enough to knock her over, but a few more might do the trick.

Lyla wasn't normally a manipulator on this level. She loved having fun, but rarely was that at the direct expense of someone else. Tonight however, she was drinking which loosened up her personal morale code… besides, who didn't like seeing people fight over them? She hadn't made a move to intervene, instead watching the altercation from afar, pleased as punch with the results.  She cringed at the crunching fingers and let out a laugh as the first man was brought down with a glass to the head. When the other two jumped on Thorn, she thought maybe it was time to get up a bit closer.

Reached back she framed her neck, flailing an arm until she was able to reach the bottle of nearly empty rum left behind. With a small hop, she pushed herself up off the chair and started to make her way over, sipping from the bottle, in no real rush to assist.

The man behind Thorn was slapping a hand blindly along her face, trying to twist her head to the side to obstruct her view why attempting to engulf his hand over her mouth or nose to block her breathing. The arm around her neck was far from professional but was constricting all the same. One he was able to knock the stool away he had a bit more footing to crank the hold in with more efficiency.

The man in front of Thorn seemed empowered by getting a square shot on her in, remaining in close to keep from her being able to kick at him with her health to help. He held a hand out to shove her shoulder back to limit her arm while hunching forward as he tried to lay in hard punches on her stomach, wiggling down her defenses with blow after blow.

The leader of the bunch was sweating on the floor, crawling away on his knees until he happened upon Lyla. She looked over him with bottle in hand… then helped him to his feet and dusted him off. He seemed appreciative of the jester, reaffirmed that she wasn't really involved with Thorn if she was helping them.

"If you really want it, you'll take care of this." Lyla spoke vaguely to the fight at hand, all three men assuming she was talking to them but she was staring straight at Thorn. Maybe there was some legs behind the passing comment that she was evil. Who knew.

In Thorn’s experience, violence had a way of spreading like wildfire in tight circumstances. You have a club, fairly packed, with not the best lighting. Good for setting a mood, nobody wants to drink with bright lights shining in their face. But you hear glass shatter, you see punches thrown, someone’s screaming and yelling, throw in the heavy synth bass blasting out all around and confusion starts to set in. The bouncers were starting to sift their way through the sea of humanity, but the virus had already spread, fanning out from the point of origin. Someone shoved someone, an elbow went where it wasn’t supposed to, punches were thrown. One fight, two fights, three fights.

For Thorn, that was good news. It meant she wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the security, so long as she polished off these assholes fast. It was a time limit, but one she could deal with. She could focus on important things, like the fist that kept ramming into her stomach.

After taking three shots, Thorn was having about enough of it. She’d been swinging wild, managed to get in a lucky shot, but it wasn’t enough to make the big man in front back down. If she could see the fucker, she could take him, but the monkey on her back was a problem that needed dealing with.

”Fuck off, fuck off!” She stepped forward, a big lunge, and shot both her arm out at once with a strong shove. It was only enough to make the black guy back stumble away, nearly tripping over a downed stool in the process, but it bought her time. Unfortunately for the guy on her back, that was time she knew how to use.

As it happened, her unwanted passenger had hair. Long hair. Probably conditioned it, real shiny. For her, though, it made a great grip, as she reached back over her shoulder and snatched a handful of it. She yanked him off and to side, tearing off his weak hold on her neck and turning him into a flailing, shrieking mess. Not wanting to spend more time on him than she had to, Thorn decided to give him a little timeout - she grabbed his head with one hand, his legs with the other, lifted him up him like a baby and chucked him to the side with a twist of her waist, sending him hurtling over a nearby table and into the throngs.

One on one, now. Except…

She was just about to rush the black guy when she caught sight of Loverboy, back on his feet with some help from Ellie. Most guys would call it a night after having a glass shattered on their face, but him? No, after a promise from the Irish lass, he wanted more. Whatever she’d promised them, it must’ve been good.

She rushed forward, meeting his black friend head on, and she had some success at first. Her weight advantage was small on this one, but it did exist, and it was enough to get her some ground, pushing him back with a couple of right hook to the face and a knee that either hit his stomach or grazed his dick, couldn’t be sure. She wound up take a shot in the jaw for her troubles, but she was getting the best of it until Loverboy stuck his nose in this and rushed her from the side. He ducked low and hit her with tackle, one that gave some evidence to her suspicions on him being a football player. It was enough to break her off his friend and send the two of them into a booth, pushing her along the seat, all the way up to the wall with him on top.

She didn’t make it fun for him, nailing him with an elbow in the skull while tried to get on top of her, and she might’ve been able to get out quick if his friend didn’t join them for the worst threesome she’d ever been a part of. He slid over the booth’s table and joined Loverboy, making for an awkward fit. But it didn’t matter. They were throwing punches everywhere, trying to swarm her, making the best of their numbers advantage and limiting her options. Nasty situation.

Lyla stood behind the commotion as the three men attempted to round on Thorn, giving their best try to put the professional fighter down. There was a gleeful giggles from the pink haired girl as blows were thrown and bodies fell. When the fight moved, she moved through the chaos of toppling tables and nearby fists being thrown as if she were a ghost no one could manage to see or involve in their affairs.

While Thorn had been putting up a fantastic fight, in the end she was only human. Three people on one wasn't exactly fair. Hopped up on booze and the promise of sex seemingly had been good motivation for pursuing the Aussie to the ends of the earth to pound on her.

The Irish lass looked just outside the booth, throwing back the bottle to drain the rest of it's content with rosy red cheeks. The dull smacks of sloppy punches hitting bodies made for terrible music to do anything to, but she intended to dance all the same. With a light toss of the bottle up, she sent it spinning to be caught by the neck in her hand. Leaning forward she brought it down and around, shattering it over the top of loverboy's head, collapsing him forward limply on top of Thorn.

Lyla stepped on top of the edge of the both seat, reaching up to grab hold of the overhead lamp. With a hard tig she hoisted herself up, snapping her legs out, coiling them around the second man's head from behind with her legs. She drew him in, dragging him upright as she dangled from the lighting while perched on his shoulders. A muffler cry of confusion coming from between her thighs as she actively compressed his skull through his blond flailing. She did her best to hold him steady in the scissor, letting Thorn have a still target to lay into like a sandbag.

In a movie, this would be over by now. Thorn would’ve taken out these guys easy, with each of them approaching her alone and giving her ample time to take them down in single fights. It would’ve been easy pickings, and she’d already be making out with Lyla on the bar by now.

Real life was more complicated, though. And painful. Holy fuck, was it painful.

She could handle either the assholes straight up, she knew that, but like this, pinned down, they had the advantage, and they knew that. The punches were slow and sloppy, barely above the level of catfighting, but there were two of them and she wasn’t in a good position to defend. She was giving as good as she got, ramming her fist into Loverboy’s face with three straight shots, but he was taking them like a champ. Adrenaline, getting strength from his boner, or maybe she was just in a shit position to punch. Maybe all three. Didn’t matter. She was hurting, she couldn’t see shit, and her ears were ringing. In a word: Fucked.

Words couldn’t express the relief she got when she heard that glass crash over her head and realized who’s skull it came down on. Loverboy turned into a limp noodle, awake but groggy on her chest, and she wasted not time shoving him and focusing on his friend. Her chest hurt, the scar around her bad eye was now a little bigger, and the taste of blood was growing in her mouth, but she was still fight ready and willing to take out all her frustrations on the last jizzstain they had to contend with.

Lyla made that easy, though. She had just wormed around in the booth with Loverboy, getting into position to get back into it, when those sweet legs of hers descended from the heavens and clapped around the black guy’s throat, catching him in a tight choke. It turned out she hadn’t been playing with those taunts from earlier - she could knock someone out with those legs. Would she have the chance to before Thorn’s fist did? One way to know.

She looked up at Lyla for one heated second, like she was about to take Lyla right then and there, when a muffled cry came from between her legs. She hadn’t been paying attention to the positions, and she’d ended up sitting on the upperhalf of Loverboy’s face, something he wasn’t too happy on. [b]”Fucking….fuck.” He sputtered the words out, still groggy from the bottle. ”-fat ass off me, get your fat ass-”

”Oh, you hate this kinda shit?” She hopped up and dropped her fullweight on his face, hammering his skull into the seat. ”Good. No free kink out of me.”

Thorn stood up, raised her boot up, and stomped on Loverboy’s chest, pinning him to the chair underneath her weight and giving him the occasional stomp to keep him compliant. Her main focus was on the man between Lyla’s thighs right now, though, frantically pulling at her legs in a vain effort to pull them apart. Silly. Should’ve been using those hands for better things.

She grabbed the back of his head with her left arm and started unloading punches into his face with the other, slinging heavy blow after heavy blow into his skull. He had the sense to try and fend her off after a few shots, swinging his arms around like a madman, but she just piefaced him with one hand and went low, paying him back for those gutshots from earlier with a nutshot for interest.

”Having fun up there?” Thorn shifted her attention back to the bug under her foot for a moment, raising her foot up enough to grind her boot into his face, before she went back to work with a snorting laugh.”What’d you even tell these dildos?”

Attempts go pry her legs apart were all for nothing, save for giving her thighs some lackluster gropes. It was easy to control him like this, untrained and likely drunk, he didn't stand a chance. Then Thorn came in hot. Each of the Aussie's strikes made her body rock with the force vibrating into his body. The piss poor slap fight he put up trying to fend her off was laughable. It wasn't long until he was done, she was more or less holding up his weight at this point. Separating her legs she let him drop, leaving her to dangle from the flickering lamp.

"Would be better with you between my legs." She glanced down, swinging her feet out to touch her boots down onto the booth table. With a small backwards hop she dropped down to the floor, springing on the balls of her feet. "I just told them how you felt. I don't think they appreciate your Australian charms. Their loss." She gave a small shirt, flashing Thorn a wink.

The smaller of the three had picked himself up from where Thorn had thrown him and witnessed the women casually chatting over his battered friends. Narrowed eyes with a bloody liked scowl he moved towards them. Along the way he collected a chair, lifting it up like a makeshift weapon as he broke into a full on run. Lyla was between him and Thorn, but it didn't seem to matter. The Irish woman seemed to be his intended target as he read back with the chair, about to clobber the unsuspecting woman in the back.