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For a rather smallish area, considering half of it is barricaded off, there’s still a lot to explore in New Vegas. Lucy is intrigued by something new with each and every corner she turns. She also enjoys that people seem to mind their own business here. No one is ogling her or staring her down. And if they are, then they’re being rather discreet about it.
“Hey, you,” someone suddenly calls out to her. She turns to see a ghoulish woman standing by a shuttered shop display window. “You’re the one who arrived with that ghoul in the cowboy getup, yeah?”
“Uhm…”
“I have a job you two might be interested in.”
She holds out her hand and Lucy takes the proffered flyer, skimming it. The job is relatively simple enough, calling for a human female and a male ghoul. Details of the job itself are rather vague, not stating anything beyond a required performance. She hums. “My partner isn’t much of the performing type, but for three hundred and fifty caps each—” She pauses as she rereads that. “Sorry, is that accurate?”
“Sure is. Could even earn extra if ya out-perform.”
Her eyes widen a bit. “Well, for that amount, I might be able to convince him.”
She grins. “Excellent. I’ll put you down as accepted.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure—”
“The job won’t stay open for long, dear.”
Lucy knows she really should discuss this with the Ghoul first, but… “What the heck. Sign us up.”
“That’s what I like to hear. You can come back to this spot tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you very much.”
With that, Lucy returns to their room at the Wrangler. The Ghoul isn’t there. Hmm. There isn’t much to do to kill time, especially alone, so she decides that maybe she’ll try to get some sleep. She’s not sure how long she’s out for when she’s startled awake by the Ghoul yelling at her.
“The fuck is this?” he asks, holding the flyer.
“Oh, that? It’s a job I thought might be good for us,” she tells him. “It pays three hundred and fifty caps.” She smiles. “Each.”
“Goddamn it, Vaultie.”
And her smiles drops. “What is it? What’s the problem?”
“This ad is from Golden Globes, which is the local porn studio. The job would be for us to fuck each other.”
“Oh…” She grimaces. “I may have already accepted the job for both of us.”
“Beg yer pardon?” He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not.”
“Did you see the payment? Did you hear me? Three hundred and fifty caps. How could I pass that up?”
“So, you’re tellin’ me you’d be willin’ to fuck me for caps?”
For less, even. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“It’ll probably be in front of a live audience.”
“Uhm…” She swallows hard.
“Exactly.”
“N-no, I’ll still do it. And if you’d rather not, I’ll just find—”
“Stop. I ain’t lettin’ you fuck some other random ghoul.”
She’s not sure if she should be offended or flattered. “I’m sorry…letting me?”
He huffs. “Y’know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do.” She folds her arms across her chest. “You have no say over who I do or don’t have sex with.”
His jaw clenches. “Fine. I ain’t lettin’ you do this alone, then.”
“That’s…weirdly sweet of you.”
“Sure, whatever.” He grumbles under his breath. “I’m officially cuttin’ you off. Blame the fuckin' drugs for this.”
The conversation is dropped after that. Lucy simply sits on the edge of the bed, watching the Ghoul pace. Eventually, he sits in one of the chairs adjacent to the miniature table. He won’t glance her way. Meanwhile, she can’t stop thinking about the prospect of sleeping together. She doesn’t understand why the ghoul woman hadn’t mentioned that. Except most people in New Vegas are probably aware of the fact that that was a porn studio she was hanging out in front of. Lucy feels almost ashamed, yet also…thrilled. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it before. The Ghoul makes her curious in more ways than one. And the more she thinks about it, the more turned on she becomes.
She squeezes her thighs together. “I was thinking—”
“That’s fuckin’ dangerous.”
She scrunches her nose at him. “What if we practiced?” she goes on to ask anyway.
“Practiced what?”
“Instead of going into this job clueless about each other’s bodies, what if—?”
“Ya wanna practice sex?”
“I don’t need to practice the act of sex itself. I’ve had sex. I just think it would be better if we were more aware of each other beforehand. Our likes and our dislikes and—”
He scoffs. “Ain’t necessary. I ain’t give a shit what you may or may not like. ‘Sides, people here are freaks. They’re gonna enjoy it, regardless.”
“Oh.” She presses her lips together. “Okie-dokie.” And she clears her throat. “Sorry. It was only a suggestion. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea. I don’t know why I thought any of this would be a good idea.”
“Can still back out.”
“Y-yeah…I suppose…” Ugh. Why does she feel so thwarted? When she dares to look over him, she finds he’s already looking at her with his head tilted. “What?”
His gaze drops across her body. “You that worked up?”
“What are you talk—?”
“If ya want sex, just be straightforward.”
“Fine.” She shrugs his shoulders. “I want sex.”
Now he smirks, propping his feet on the table, ankles crossed. “Show me what I’m workin’ with, darlin’.”
Lucy’s breath catches in her throat at the shift in his demeanour. The hunger that settles in his gaze. She stands up and reaches for the zipper of the jumpsuit. Slowly drags it down her body, stopping at her bellybutton. She brings her hands to the collar, pulling back, allowing it to shrug off her shoulders. Once her arms are free, she removes her tank top. After she’s tugged it over her head, she realises the Ghoul has moved to his feet. She holds her breath as he approaches her. One gloved hand reaches for her, his thumb dragging across the scar on her waist.
She had almost forgotten about it.
“I didn’t give that one to ya,” he says.
“No, you did not. Another Wastelander got his hands on me first.” His eyes flick beneath the rim of his hat from the scar to her face. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He hums. “Who do I have to kill?”
Oh. That comment sends a strange jolt of arousal down her spine. “While I appreciate the gesture, he’s already dead.”
With that, he pushes her onto the bed. Kneels in front of her, reaching for her suit. She lifts her hips so he can pull it and her underwear down her legs, letting them hang around her boots. Heat pools low in her belly at the way he licks his lips. He drags his hands along her thighs, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
“Touch yourself.”
She bites her bottom lip as her hand moves between her thighs. She presses a finger to her clit, causing her entire body to twitch. She slowly rolls the bud around a bit before delving between her folds, gathering some of the wetness there to bring back with her. She’s not sure she’s ever been so wet in her life, and they’ve barely done anything yet. The way he’s watching, though…
“What’s better? Touchin’ yourself or missionary sex with your little Vaultie boyfriend?” he soon asks.
“It wasn’t missionary and he wasn’t from the Vault. Believe it or not, he was a Wastelander and I was on top.”
"I don’t believe it.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Yeah? You fucked the Wastelander?” He pauses as she nods her head. “Was that before or after he stabbed ya?”
"Obviously before."
“So, what you’re saying is…I could’ve gone ahead and fucked ya before you bit my finger off?” She whimpers at that and he chuckles. “Does violence turn you on, darlin’?”
“No…”
“Yer pretty cunt says otherwise.”
She moves to pull her fingers away from her centre. “Can we—?”
He grabs her by the wrist. “I didn’t tell ya to stop.”
She huffs. “If I don’t stop now, I’ll finish before we can actually have penetrative sex.”
He tilts his head. “Penetrative, huh?” Something about him using such a clinical term causes her face to flush even warmer than it already is. It doesn’t make any sense, especially with how crass he typically is. “So, you want my cock inside ya?”
“That is what I meant when I said I want sex.”
“Well, ya gotta give me one like this first.”
“I just said—”
“Sweetheart, I’ll make sure you cum again. Don’t you worry ‘bout that. For now, just focus on that swollen bud ‘fore I take care o’ it myself.”
She presses her lips together, wondering just how far she could push. “And…how exactly would you take care of it?”
The Ghoul doesn’t move for a second, his hat hiding his face completely. Then he removes his hat, setting it on the bedside table just within reach. Lucy holds her breath as she waits for his next move. Tilts her head back because it’s driving her mad and making her anxious to watch. So, when she feels his tongue drag along her folds, she can’t help the groan that falls past her lips. He repeats the motion, licking from back to front over and over until he pushes his tongue inside her, causing her hips to jolt upward. She feels the vibrations from his chuckle more than she hears it, and she shudders. He laps at her inner walls, delving seemingly as far as his muscle will allow. She squirms beneath him from the pressure, and he just moves with her.
He soon pulls out, but he’s quick to replace his tongue with two fingers. She gasps at the intrusion, but his fingers almost immediately press a spot deep inside her that makes her vision go white. His lips wrap around her clit, and she whines at the stimulation. At the way he's working her from the inside and out in near-perfect unison. Her vision gets spottier and spottier as she feels the pressure below building. Except she can’t find the words to make him stop. Can’t push him away. Can only cry out when it gets to be too much and she feels herself gushing as she reaches that peak. He doesn’t stop. He licks and strokes her through it until she’s practically sobbing. Until her body goes limp.
She dares to look down at him when he finally pulls away. Sees the bottom half of his face covered in her slick. The sight gets her going all over again.
“Findin’ it hard to believe you ain’t a virgin, Vaultie.”
“I’m not. I’ve just never been touched…like that.”
“Got a bunch o’ prudes down in that Vault? ‘Cause that seems counterproductive.”
She didn’t think they were prude, but now she’s not so sure. “The Vault is very sex positive. So much so that they encourage practicing before you get married so that way you know your body and what you enjoy. Except options in the Vault are limited, so I practiced with my cousin. Because of that, we never did anything penetrative, but he also was not willing to be very experimental and never did anything with his mouth. My experiences with him weren’t always satisfying, so I also spent a lot of time touching myself. Obviously, though, there’s only so much I can do with my own fingers and a pillow.” The way he’s looking at her, scrutinising, she feels as if she should be embarrassed. “You’re a cannibal.”
That actually makes him laugh. A genuine laugh. “Fair enough. Surprised you’d even want my mouth on ya.”
“Oh, I want more than that.”
The words are out before she can even think them through. He seems taken aback by the admission. Moves to crawl over her, forcing her to lie back. “Say that again.”
“I want more,” she whispers. “I want you.”
“This part o’ yer practice?”
She swallows hard. Tries to distract him by reaching between their bodies. Before she can touch the bulge in his pants, though, he pushes off her and back to his feet. She’s afraid she’s messed up, but he removes his duster. The expanse of weapons and ammo he carries. Kicks off his boots. That’s when she sits up to remove her boots, as well. He’s the one to pull her jumpsuit and underwear off the rest of the way. She props herself up on her elbows as she watches him unbuckle his belt. He doesn’t pull his shaft out just yet.
“Ya sure ‘bout this?” he checks.
She nods her head. “I like to be prepared.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s just fuckin’. Like I said, people on the surface are freaks. They ain’t gonna care ‘bout—”
“I care.” A pause. “I already told you that I want this. You’re the one who’s stalling now. So, if you don’t want this then you can say so.”
He huffs. “You ain’t gotta make it so complicated.”
“Sorry? How am I making it complicated?” He grabs her by the ankle, pulling her the short distance towards the edge of the bed. After he releases her, she gets to her feet. “You’ve spoken your unfiltered thoughts all along. What’s stopping you now?”
He gives her a onceover before taking a step back. “It’s the drugs.”
Oh. So, he’s concerned about her clarity. She presses her lips together, holding back a smile over his subtle—and somewhat astounding—display of sweetness. That’s the drugs talkin’. She understands his hesitation now. She knows she wants this, though. Even if she has to use the pretense of practice to get it. Ugh. If anything, she’s the one taking advantage of him, which is a crazy. Still, she reaches for him. Undoes the buttons on his shirt, one-by-one. He watches. Doesn’t stop her. Not even when she pushes her hands beneath the worn fabric to feel his rough skin.
“Is this okay?” she asks, voice gentle. He gives a single nod of his head. So, she steps forward and traces her fingers downward along the scarring, stopping at the hem of his pants. “Can I…?” That’s when his hands cover hers, halting her next move. She looks up at him. “I do want this,” she tells him again. “And it’s not the drugs saying that. It’s me.”
There’s a beat before he releases her hands. Cautiously, she continues. Undoes the button of his pants. He takes over from there, stepping back again to shuck his pants off altogether. She tries not to look but can’t help the way her gaze drops. Bites her bottom lip when she sees him.
Okie-dokie…
“Havin’ second thoughts?” he speaks up.
“The only thing I’m questioning is why I didn’t proposition you sooner.”
He scoffs. “Sure.”
She reaches for him. Places her hands on his shoulders and guides him, spinning them both around. She pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed so she can straddle his lap. Drags her labia along the length of his member. He grabs her hips, squeezing. She takes that as the go-ahead to reach down and line him up with her entrance. Lifts up so she can then lower herself onto him. Her head drops back as her body swallows his shaft. Despite feeling like she’s being split open from the girth of him, she doesn’t stop until their hips are flush. It’s then she holds still, allowing herself to adjust.
“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he grits out. “So fuckin’ tight.”
And he’s big. Just on the right side of painful, which she never thought could be possible. Pain shouldn’t be pleasurable but, gosh, is she being proven wrong. Her hands return to his shoulders, gripping just as tightly as his hands on her waist. She’s overwhelmed with a wave of disappointment that she won’t be able to mark him like he can mark her. Not unless she breaks skin. It also concerns her that she’s so willing to be marked by him. She wants him to leave bruises. Bites, even. Except his hands suddenly leave her hips only to cradle her face. Her eyes shoot open and she tilts her head down to look at him. As soon as their eyes meet, she starts rocking against him.
“Oh, that’s it. Just like that…” One hand slips back, holding the nape of her neck. His other hand moves downward. He slaps her ass, causing her to jump and gasp. “C’mon, darlin’, ride me like ya mean it.” She lets out a whimper the next time he slaps her ass. He does it again and again, and she only moves faster until she’s practically bouncing on him. “Atta girl,” he goes on, voice rough with arousal. “You want it? Fuckin’ take it.”
I want it… I want it…
“Speak up.”
“I want it,” she calls out.
“Yeah, ‘course you do. ‘Cause you ain’t ever felt this good, ain’t that right?”
Her thighs are beginning to tire, but she works through it. Especially with the way her clit is grinding against his calloused skin so perfectly. There’s just enough friction that she can feel a second climax building. And when his thumb presses against her, she falls apart. She drops down, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck as she clenches around his shaft. She feels it pulsing and almost thinks she could cum again from the sensation alone. Except he lifts her off him, cupping his hand at his tip to catch his release as it spills. She watches in awe, licking her lips.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says into the minimal space between them.
“What? Like you let the Wastelander cum inside you?”
“As a matter of fact…”
He growls. Stands up, lifting her with him. He takes a couple steps before her back hits the wall. Her feet are barely touching the ground as he pulls her hips forward, slotting his cock between her thighs. He pushes back into her, bottoming out in one go. Keeping one hand on the small of her back. His other hand—the one dirtied by his cum—takes both her wrists and holds them above her head. He starts pounding into her, hard and fast. Every stroke hits deeper than the last, making her see stars.
He leans forward, mouthing at her neck. “Even after cummin’ twice, you’re still so fuckin’ wet,” he speaks against her skin. “They’re gonna love you at that job tomorrow. You’re a porn studio’s goddamn dream.” She whines, trying to find purchase for her feet. Instead, she wraps her legs around his calves. “Can’t get close enough, huh?” he goes on. He licks a stripe up the column of her neck. “Did the Wastelander make you cum three times?” She shakes her head. “Did you cum on his cock?” Another shake of her head. “Well, then, how did it feel cummin’ on my cock?”
“So—good—” she gasps out.
“Ya wanna cum on my cock again?”
“Pl-please…”
“And you want my cum inside you?”
“Gosh, yes.”
“Only mine?”
This kind of possessiveness should make her uncomfortable. It should frighten her, even. It should be more than enough to break whatever trance she’s fallen into but, shoot, it only turns her on more. For some reason, she enjoys the idea of the Ghoul being jealous of her past trysts. She enjoys knowing she has this effect on him. She even finds herself hoping that she’s the only who can do this to him. The only one who can see this side of him.
She wants to be the only one.
He stops moving with his cock buried deep inside her. The hand at the small of her back makes its way up to wrap around her throat. “Well?” He squeezes his fingers a little tighter. “You gonna answer me?”
“Only yours,” she chokes out.
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”
That’s when he releases her wrists. Puts both hands under her ass to better lift her. Her legs wrap around his waist now as he traps her between the wall and his body to resume his thrusting. And when he leans in and bites her shoulder, Lucy holds her breath. She can feel the skin breaking beneath his teeth, but it only causes her to squeeze her legs tighter. To pull him closer. To clamp down around him as she experiences her third orgasm of the evening. Then she feels the heat of his release as he spills inside her, pumping her full of his seed. He keens low in the back of his throat before finally releasing her shoulder. Laves his tongue across the bitemark, lapping at the blood. Then he presses his lips to her jaw.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
She wraps her arms around his neck as he moves away from the wall, returning to the bed. He sits them both down before laying back. She lay across his chest, knees tucked in at his waist. Fudge, she never wants to move again. She’s perfectly content and comfortable in this position.
“So…how exactly did you end up fuckin’ a Wastelander?” he soon asks.
“I didn’t know he was from the surface,” she tells him.
“How did you not know?”
“Moldaver brought a group of raiders down into Vault 32 with her. They infiltrated our Vault by staging a marriage.” A pause. “My marriage.”
He hums, bringing a hand up and threading his fingers through her hair. “So, the bastard fucked you and then tried to kill you.”
“I saw a scar on his back and, as I’m sure you can imagine, Vault-dwellers don’t have scars like that. I grabbed my Pip-Boy, and the Geiger counter was clicking even with him on the other side of the room. That’s when he attacked me.”
“And you said he’s dead?”
“He is.” His other hand starts tracing the notches of her spine. “You know, I really thought I knew what I enjoyed when it came to sex, but I suppose I still have a lot to learn about myself and my, uhm—”
“Kinks?”
She clears her throat. “I was going to say preferences, but yes.”
He chuckles. “For instance, gettin’ yer ass slapped.” He gives it another soft smack. “That’s common, though.” She wriggles on him, and he grunts. “Playin’ a dangerous game there, darlin’. We keep practicin’, you ain’t gonna be able to perform tomorrow.”
Right. She had almost forgotten the reason this whole thing even started. Practice. “Well, I think we still need to learn each other’s bodies more.”
“Reckon I got you figured out.”
Yeah, he’s probably not wrong. “Can’t have you doing all the work. That wouldn’t be very fair now, would it?” She lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest to look at him. “It’s still early. We don’t need to be there until tomorrow afternoon. So long as I get some sleep tonight, I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“You’ll be sore if I don’t keep my hands off ya.”
Her cheeks flush at this. “Enjoying yourself that much?” It’s a rhetorical question. Maybe even a trick question. “Because if that’s the case—”
He effectively cuts her off by sitting them up and flipping her onto her back on the mattress. He hooks one leg over the crease of his arm, pushing his cock to the hilt inside her. “Give me a good reason to keep goin’.”
He already seems convinced, but she’ll play along. “First of all, I want you to,” she starts. “I’m not ready to…” I’m not ready to let you go. And I know that’s not very fair, but I want to be selfish for once in my life. “…stop practicing.”
“Yeah? Is there a second of all?”
She swallows hard. He can see right through her, can’t he? Every thought and feeling might as well be on display. Bright as the neon lights. No matter how hard she tries to hide, she’s an open book when it comes to him.
She dares to bring a hand up to cup his face, softly stroking her thumb along his scarred cheek. “We’ve made it to New Vegas,” she goes on. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen next or how much time we may have left together. So, I guess I just…didn’t wanna miss my chance.”
He hums. Turns his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “Got yer whole life ahead o’ you, darlin’. Ya wouldn’t have missed a thing.”
With that, he pulls out of her. She bites her tongue to hold back her whimper of discontent. Sits up and watches him as he redresses. Well…that’s that. As the Ghoul lay back down, Lucy removes herself from the bed. Makes her way for the bathroom to clean herself in the shower. By the time she comes out, he’s already asleep. Or he’s at least faking it. She lets out a soft sigh and crawls beneath the thin blanket beside him. Faces away from him. Tries not to dream.
In the morning, she wakes with his arm draped over her midsection. His thighs are tucked behind hers. His hardened member is pressed against her lower back. She tries to discreetly shift closer to him. He kisses the nape of her neck in response, and she shudders.
“One more practice round?” she speaks up.
“I had a slightly different idea in mind.” He places another kiss on her ear. “I was thinkin’ we skip the job and just spend the day practicin’ instead.”
“That’s quite the attitude change from last night.”
“Yeah, well…” He hoists her leg, draping it over his thigh so he can slot his shaft against her slit, “…ya made a pretty convincin’ argument.”
She laughs breathlessly. “When?”
“In yer sleep.”
She laughs even more. “We’ll miss out on seven hundred caps if we skip.”
“Won’t miss nothin’ long as my cock is inside ya.” He kisses the stinging bitemark. “What say you, Miss MacLean?”
“Aren’t you such a gentleman?” He chuckles low, his breath on her neck sending tingles across her skin. “Well, I say,” and she reaches down to slot his shaft inside her, “practice makes perfect.”