John And Kit Equals Lust

Summary: it was a cold night and the cabin turned out to be a dump. There were holes in the walls and dead roaches in the corner. But the bed was big, clean and they were eager to acknowledge their naughty desires.

Rating T: for those strongly hinted, obvious scenes. Kids, OUT! OUT! OUT! If you guys think its too graphic, just let me know and I'll fix the rating.

Author's Note: So this is an AU fic. That means it is movie-verse. I am playing with 'movie' John (cause Keanu looks good) and comic book Kit (because she's the one for him). Now, if you John/Angela fans want, you're welcome to flame. Just know that I too love John/Angela but seriously doubt they'd get married etc. So this is like a year after the movie and John's screwing around again. Ok. Enjoy. And PLEASE Review! I thrive on reviews!


"Holy shit!" John coughed after bounding in. The door swinging open and sleeping dust being awoken. "This place is a fucking rat hole!" he cursed.

"Come on John." Kit said, coming in behind him and setting her bag on the floor. "It's not…so bad." the sigh in her tone spoke volumes of stress.

"Jesus Christ, Kit. Are you sure you know what we're getting into here? I paid forty fucking bucks of my good money for this cabin, not to mention the gas money and food expenses getting here."

"Aren't you going to ring up my purchases?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips. John frowned. He wanted to storm at her for all those fucking little niknacks she put in for on every damn stop they had made. And if it weren't for her putting in to run by Victoria's Secret, he would. But he wanted to please her so that maybe later she could please him.

John watched her turn around, strutting that curvy ass of hers towards the kitchen to flip on the switch. The place around him was a roach infested dump, but he was too busy looking at her. 'dammit' he thought. Why the hell did she have to torture him with that skimpy little denim skirt, those spike heeled leather boots and not to mention that button up blouse that he could see her bra through. Every time she bent down, she was sure to do it in front of him, even when they were pissed, exposing that nice rack that was begging to bust out. The buttons on her blouse were barely holding together. She'd bought it two sizes too small.

"So much for the clean cut news reporter appeal." John joked. Kit gave him a naughty wink and he walked over to her, pressing his hands against her waist and propping her up on the counter.

"I only wear it for you." she said. "This place is pretty bad, huh?"

"Real bad."

"You know John," she said, sliding her hand about his chest and playing with the buttons of his shirt. John felt like fucking her through the wall. He felt like his 'gun' was gonna come ripping out of his pants. How much longer he could contain himself, he didn't know. She'd been torturing him all day, sprawling out on the car hood, pulling her skirt up when she sat in the car, constantly resting her head on him and kissing his cheeks and neck and him licking hers. "I kind of want to take a shower. I'm a little hot."

"Baby," he smirked, "a 'little' hot is an understatement."

Kit grinned then. "Take it with me?"

"You didn't even have to ask. Would've forced my way in if I had to." He felt like forcing a few other things too.

The running water was barely enough to descise the moans that Kit made as John tickled her back with his tongue.

"Oh John…" she moaned.

Their silhouites began to move like cobras in a mating ritual behind the white curtain of the shower. It was tiny in there and cramped, but there was just enough room for John to bust some moves.

"I want to do it." he whispered in her ear and she felt a tingling sensasion warm her more personal areas. But wait, that was actually John's hand rubbing it. Oh! She groaned so loud, wrapping her thigh on his leg. He licked her breasts then and she wanted to bear his head right into her rack, but they saved the more grizzly details for the bedroom.

After drying off, John slipped on his boxers. Sure, they'd strip off again, but that was the fun of it. Kit came out with a black see through g-string (if you could even call the measly thing that). She didn't even bother to cover her boobs. There was a wood beam in the center of the room (how convenient) and she danced around it like a stripper, rousing John all the while. He was getting restless, wanting to mate with her like a wolf in heat and she wasn't dancing more than three seconds till he threw her on the bed and ripped that string off with his teeth, licking the contents beneath.

Outside were other cabins. Most of them were empty but a few were being rented by some old people. One old man woke up in the middle of the night, hearing groans and moans and wails. He walked outside, concerned, only to put to and two together that the cabin next door was having a sex craze in the bedroom.

"YES! YES! YES!" was what the old man could hear Kit saying. "DON'T STOP!" oh! She was breathless. "OH JOHN! OH GOD! OH!" she gasped. "IT FEELS SO GOOD!" Oh! He was pumping her like fuel to a car. "YES! YES! YES!"

Oh goodness it was one hell of a good night. It carried on for HOURS! If one was standing in the hallway of their cabin, you could hear the bed pounding and bruising the floor because John was on top of her, inside of her and he was panting right along side her.

When morning came, they both found themselves wrapped up inside of each other. Kit was sweatie still, hot and she was sore as hell. She rushed to the bathroom, having to pee like crazy. He'd fucked her all night. It wasn't just playful lovemaking, it was a brutal mating session. John was like a Tazmanion Devil, hurrasing and imprisoning a beautiful female in his den. When he turned over, he saw that Kit had just come out of the bathroom, her blonde hair hanging all over her naked body. He smirked then and extended an arm to her, but when she came to his side, she slapped him senseless.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!!" he demanded, rubbing his cheek.

"For what you're going to do."

"Going to do? What the fuck do you mean?"

"I MEAN PREGNANT!"

"Oh shit." John thought. But he was too high on sex at the moment and before he knew it, she was on top begging for more. He figured he'd worry about the pregnancy possibilities later. Because as of right now, she was sitting in his lap with his gun cocked and loaded inside her lady-parts. The pumping began again. Shit! As of right now, John had no clear memory of any woman he ever screwed before. All he saw was the little twenty eight year old blonde whore before him. She was torture…pure pain…and he loved every ounce of it and she only left him thirsty for more.

End