Episode 10: Blacktop Burn
Event 2: Race
Location: Dry Docks
Artificially induced airwaves muffle everything. The sound of tires on tarmac, the revs of the engine, even the impact of a Power Play.
But my radio...that I turned off myself.
Even with the MK1 humming away under the hood, the muffled and mangled screech of metal on metal from the other cars around me seemed to be so much further away than they were.
I am alone on this track.
One part of that fact is like a kick in the stomach, the other, well...the other part of it feels normal. Right even.
Tyson's criteria for test driving this Severus was that I had to race for myself. For this episode, is to be just me versus the rest of Second City. Ironically, that's how this show was supposed to be: a giant free for all.
And I'm lovin' every minute of it.
The flames of a Play washed over my ride like a light breeze as the MK1 did its thing. This power was convenient, so quick to use, so easy abuse...
The greenish orange tint of controlled air flowed off my Cobretti as I slide at ridiculous speeds around the track's large hairpin. My finger went to red button on my wheel but someone beat me to it.
The ground shook as the tanker ship buckled and exploded switching the route ahead. The familiar growl of a Centaur roared past me as we flew into the damaged boat.
I'm enjoying this alone thing too much.
I activated to van Play ahead, causing it to catapult across the track. Monroe's tires squealed as he slammed on his brakes.
One rather late gear shift later an all to familiar pink Firestorm nosed its way out of my shadow. Where the Vulture gets a slap on the wrist, Angels get the motherfucking hammer.
I spooled the Internal Dragoon back up as I entered the wide corner, creating a vacuum like slipstream. I barreled into the shortcut and killed the MK1, chuckling as the Ryback behind skidded in the garage wall erupting in flames.
Lap 2 and still holding first. I drifted hard and fast into the next turn just as the cranes began to explode around me. I swung around quickly weaving through the next Play as the track's first Route Switch finished, er...switching.
Little known fact if you can get a good run out of turn two, the original path is just as fast as the Route Switch path.
Which I proceeded to do as I drove past flaming bus remains. I flew past the ending of the new route warranting an explosive joust from the Play on the right side of the track. A bright white Katana drifted past me as my car roared back into gear.
Nice to see Matthews finally driving better, I'm a little curious as to how much better.
Metal squeaked as I gave the back of Carter's hyper car a shunt, following the attack with the reusable Play at the entrance to the massive hairpin.
I power slid my car through the inside passing Carter's Hanzo as it spun out. Oh well, but I can say progress was made Matthews, progress was indeed made.
The tanker ship ahead exploded again as the huge block it was holding fell to the ground. I swerved, barely avoiding it.
As I began to make the climb up the secondary Route Switch, and powerful engine's growl sent a chill up my spine.
Tory's Ryback filled my rearview mirrors. As we were weightless in the air, and the Titan was gone.
"Oh shit!" I gasped as I used the MK1 to push me sideways. We landed side by side in a shower of sparks, my car pitched and ready to begin a power slide and Tory's truck was where my Severus would have been.
I sailed under the shortcut, and braced myself as my vehicle was slammed with explosive Power Plays.
Unfortunately the only way of dealing with Tory is and probably will always be brute force. The MK1 hummed angrily, the electromagnetic cables lining the chassis glowed red hot as a wave of compressed air stopped the Titan cold.
There was brief crack of crushed metal as an unfortunate driver was unable to keep himself from rear ending Tory's behemoth truck.
My Cobretti slide wide onto the tilted boat, drawing sparks from its belly. But as I drifted off the deck, I was confronted with yet another challenge.
It appears that Xingyuag wants a crack at me now, good timing: I'm curious to see if she's been paying attention.
The Dragoon spun up another vacuum slipstream, trapping the red Hanzo in my draft. We drove nose to tail past the level Two Power Play lying in wai-
Oh, here we go.
The lock keeping the massive ship on the dry dock disengaged sending the tanker sideways towards us. I threw my influence from Xingyuag's FX350 and flew ahead.
The car skidded a bit from its sudden release, but was quickly back under control. Just in time to receive a glancing blow from the front part of the ship's platform. The Hanzo tumbled over the barrier an into the water, it's S.A.F.E. followed shortly.
My power slide in the next left corner went undeterred by the detonation of its Power Play.
Which is why I heard the most frightening thing you could hear this race, perhaps of all time. The distant sound of a delayed gear shift, characteristic of standard transmissions.
There's only one person in the city who drives standard.
My tires lost traction as the Cyclone Special rams me. Ah, KR...I am so fucked.
My helmet slams the back of seat as I'm rear ended again, I have to get out of this, the big right hander is coming up.
I hit the brakes once, twice...I glanced out the window as the tanker truck Play detonated.
"NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN!" I barked before my vision whited out.
"C'mon Tenma, shake it off." Rigg's voice echoed for a second.
"Wha?" I mumbled back.
Before I had chance so say anything, I was given a brisk tug out of the protective foam I was lodged in.
I stumbled a bit from dizziness before my eyes began to readjust.
A long sigh escaped my lips as I found myself back in the long expanse that is Tyson's holding warehouse.
"Where's Blitz?" I asked, already confused by the fact that he wasn't immediately in my face.
"Business meeting." Trel answered.
"I don't see anyone else in here." I replied scanning above the cars. I'm pretty sure Blitz said the deals went down inside the warehouse.
"S2 business meeting."
"Oh, riiiight."
There was rather long awkward silence as I ran through the options of what the shit am I supposed to do now.
The quiet spell was broken as Rigg sat on the hood of a nearby BMW and release a long uncharacteristic sigh.
"Let me say, that personally I wish you and your crew weren't sucked into this bullshit."
I planted a hand on my hip and shot the ebony man a scowl.
"Honest, it's trouble for us, and unfair for you."
"Yeah, let's not think about all times you tried to kill me." I said sarcastically.
Trel only rolled his eyes before continuing, "Look Tenma, we run a tight ship around here. Any leaks that aren't fixed can be disastrous."
"Including people." I frowned.
"This is what happens with all black market trading, get used to it." Trel barked back.
"I didn't ask to be part of this!" my voice cracked a little from the outburst.
"Well you are now, learn and adapt Tenma, that's the only advice I can give you."
I gave a rather immature huff as I crossed my arms.
"So can I leave, or am I stuck here 'til ass face gets back?" I asked.
For a moment Trel said nothing, probably trying to figure out if I was serious or not. Hence why what happened next threw me a little.
"Technically any car in here not marked with a number isn't in inventory..." he paused, to let me look around.
Sure enough, in top left of every windshield was a number written.
"...Tyson won't even know it's gone." Rigg said, his face betraying no emotion.
My heart raced, the prospect of haulin' ass outta here was indescribable. Until something clicked...
"Why are you helping me?" I asked, giving Trel a suspicious look.
"Hm, a couple of reasons really..." But that's all I heard before was vaulting over cars, trying to find one without a number.
If I wanna go unnoticed, stuff like Ferraris and Porsches are out of the question...
Which is exactly what I was thinking as I kneeled, stroking the front of the black Lamborghini Murciélago.
"Shhhh, it's okay. Momma will be back for you later."
I continued my search at a jog, avoiding anything that was marked...or incredibly slow.
Heh, or I came across something I couldn't resist. It sat near the back, sitting beside a 500 GT and the skeletal remains of a Tornado. It was even in my favorite color, obnoxious orange. I gave the driver side door a quick tug, finding it to be unlocked I slide inside.
The inside definitely had a more, er racecar-y feel to it with exposed roll bars and extremely limited interior finishing.
I found the key to sitting on the dashboard with a note attached to it, Contact Melvin for fixing Tacho. Hmmm, no tachometer? I guess I can manage.
I plunged the key into the starter hoping that this car had more than its fair share of gas.
"Yes." I whispered as the engine roared to life. I reached over to the gear select-. What the? Sequential shifter? I could have sworn KR's Cyclone, which has to be based of this Cyclone, came with a standard "H" style gear box.
And I was looking forward to that too, ain't that a bitch.
The tires slipped a bit as I sped out of the row, towards the only car sized door I'd seen since I'd been here.
But I slowed to a stop as I found Rigg standing in between me and said door.
"KILL THE ENGINE!" he shouted.
Hesitantly, I did just that.
What happened next is just about reflex now.
Hands over my head, I curled tight and let out a blood curdling scream as Trel emptied a revolver into the front of the Ryback.
"Tenma, sit up." the truck driver demanded. Another squeal met his ears as I was surprised to find him standing next to the car, hovering over the left window.
"What the fuck man? I thought-"
"I didn't want to make it look you I just let you escape." Trel said, cutting me off, "That door there is basically just sheet metal, an S/S brand car should have no problem plowing through it."
"Oh."
"Yeah, you're not very clever, are you?"
"Shut up."
"Listen Tenma, once you're out, there's nothing I can do for you."
"I figured."
"Good, but I want you to keep one thing in mind: once you leave, you're gonna become the one person that Tyson doesn't want knowing about this place."
"Ugh, don't remind me."
"Right, now get moving. You've got a lot of road to cover."
I fired the engine, and floored it. Leaving the warehouse and the massive hole I punched in its side.
I never looked back.
The sun hung blood red in the sky as I drove down the only discernible road I saw. From what I could tell, Tyson's warehouse was actually built into the side of a mountain, or somethin'.
The rock walls on either side of me threw jagged shadows across the ground.
E-brake.
Without warning I was thrown out of the miniature valley, and almost off the side of a mountain. The Ryback raged as its tires fought for grip on the dirt path. Now moving in the opposite direction, I tried to look for the warehouse below me. But it was gone, hidden by what was now appearing to be piles of rock. The Cyclone slid wide again as I propelled it through another sharp corner, the higher I climbed the more my local came into view.
I could feel the momentary lack of road as my ride caught a little air. The sun was merciless as it stabbed my eyes.
I slammed the brakes.
The Ryback slid to a stop as I got out, hands cupped over my eyes, for a split second, I saw something before being blinded. I walked off the machine worn road and climbed the closest rock mound, higher and higher. After a few heart stopping stumbles I reached the crest, with eyes still shielded I looked out at the biggest crater I'd ever seen. Well sort of a crater, the center of it was raised. There were earth movers, and other sorts of machinery everywhere.
I was about to dismiss the area as a run of the mill mining site until I saw them. A group of Spilt/Second Power Play choppers. My eyes darted around, scanning the place again. Something I missed? It just looks like a few choppers...
I followed the outside of the plateau again, spotting worn in paths littered with precariously placed machines. It looked like S2 was building another-
"Aye, what have we her'" said a voice from behind me, dripping with a tone I didn't like. I turn slowly until my eye's met the ex-Elite's.
Andre stood below me, shooting me the smuggest look I'd ever seen.
Fuck this. I've only been out 10 fucking minutes.
I kicked as hard as I could at rocks beneath me, sending a small wave of gravel towards Torpedo. Before I even knew it I was down the rock pile and hauling ass back towards the Cyclone.
Scoring a few bonus points for sliding across the hood, I was in my ride and heading towards the skyscrapers I saw before my detour.
As night drew closer, the rocks became more and more unforgiveable. Though, it's worth mentioning Andre's Zonda wasn't really helping either. More power, lighter chassis, in fact the only thing keeping me ahead of that asshole was the fact my car was built to go where other cars shouldn't.
But it was after I plowed through my 3rd fence is when I realized I needed a new plan, a plan that presented itself when I ran across some asphalt.
The Cyclone jerked forward, boosted by the more favorable road surface...surface that would be even better for a Pagani...oh shit.
I squinted as the headlights of Andre's supercar filled my mirrors. Second City was finally in full view, but the advantage had all but gone to the sports car behind me. The series of turn we proceeded to power through only served to close the gap.
"Are you kidding me?" I complained. Just ahead was the city's security gate, keeping drivers in and the paparazzi out. There's no way this car is going through that 10 foot tall, cast iron gate.
Can't go through it, hav'ta go over it...any ramp like rocks? Ramp, ramp, ramp, bingo!
I slammed hard on the brakes, forcing Andre wide and into the dirt. I slide the Cyclone off road, leaving a plume of dust in my wake. While the rock formation I spotted was shaped like a ramp it wasn't pointing toward the high rise walls but instead was perpendicular with it.
But whatever, this can totally work. Is what I tried to convince myself as I shifted into 4th.
My whole body jerked forward as the car ascended the rocks. Higher, higher, over and-
The back tire skimmed the wall sending the Ryback into a single pants wetting barrel roll before landing wheels down on the ground below.
I gasped like a person that was seconds away from drowning, releasing the breathe I didn't know I was holding.
I put the Cyclone in gear and headed further toward my destination. Night was close to falling, neons were on, and people were just walking about, and thankfully paying no mind to my prowling Cyclone.
Except for one of the few people I didn't want, of course. Doesn't bullshit like this always happen?
I could hear all 10 cylinders before I could see the Cobretti, and my pedal was floored just as Maya's Severus careened around the corner behind me.
Pedestrians and vehicles alike whizzed by as I pushed Cyclone faster, harder than it I should have. The brakes locked as I tried to sneak into a tight corner, sending my car sideways for another half a block. With a little downshifting and a bit of curb, the car was back under control, propelling me down a rather narrow alley.
The back end went out wide as I left the alley and reenter on a road that I thankfully recognized. I pushed hard down the streets of Second City, no longer seeking my friends, but a place to hid. Sliding in and out of traffic I-
I swear the screech caused my ears to bleed as a grey blur side swiped my car with prejudice. The front-side impact sliced off my driver side mirror, and sent the Cyclone on stall inducing, 900 degree death spin.
Even with my head still spinning I could make out the distinctive paint job on the 440 Special. A skull and two cross-sledgehammers, the 'Jolly Hammer' as his fans like to call it.
Mason Sharp is the last fucking person I wanna deal with right now.
The wheels on his muscle car spun back to life, sending the armor plated coupe my way again. I slammed on the gas and burned out, pivoting away as the 440 made another pass.
I sped away, leaving The Hammer in my rearview as he tried to make a quick u-turn.
If there is a God, I would like him to make himself known, so he can fucking help me.
...vrrrrrr...
I had to fight a panic braking reflex, as the phone I forgot I possessed started to vibrate. One hand on the wheel I dug, producing my phone after a bit of work.
'Dumbass is Calling' it told me.
I hit the accept call bottom and jammed the phone onto my right ear.
"CARTER!" I screamed.
"KONANI! Where the hell have you been?" Matthew's voice frantically yelled back.
"Long story, I can't see 'em but I'm literary surrounded by bad guys, help would be nice."
"On its way...Tory! Its Konani get up and put some freaking clothes on!"
...er...
"Shut the fuck up, dipshit. This room is so fucking massive I'm not even sure where I put 'em." the voice in the background was muffled, but clearly Tory's.
"Hurry! Shit is actually hitting the fan, you need to call KR!" Carter's voice yelled back.
"Are you fucking serious? Next time you need me to be a fuck'n wheelman RIGHT after get'nyour dick wet, we'll fuck in my goddamn truck okay?" Tory sneered.
...How long was I gone again?
"Konani, you still there?"
"Totally, I didn't hear a thing." Damnit.
"What? Oh, never mind. Take the next right."
I could hear the chassis scrape the ground I broke hard, and turned deep. I was along a road with noticeably less traffic. Giving me enough time to put the phone on speaker and stuffing it the only place it wouldn't slid away. In between these God forsaken boobs.
"Carter talk to me, what are you seeing?"
"The city's camera feeds, I thought finding you would be easier if I requested the feeds to be sent to my laptop. But you were completely off grid."
"Tell me about it. Where am I going anyway?"
"Kind of a secret, but you can't think about that now. Once you pass this intersection, Maya will be back on your six."
Secret? That figures.
The Ryback caught a little air as I went past the crossroads, and sure enough the sound of an enraged Severus was behind me yet again.
"Fork in the road Tenma, try and lose her then double back."
I've got a more permanent idea.
Brakes locked, and E-brake pulled, the force from the abrupt stop nearly threw me into the windshield as I brake checked the fuck out of Maya's Cobretti. Underneath the scream of bending metal I could hear the sharp hiss of a S.A.F.E. deploying. I wasn't sure at first, but thank God that collision was enough.
As this tank of a Ryback peeled out and away from the crippled car, I steered in the direction Carter had suggested.
"That alley on your left, take it."
I obeyed, sliding into the narrow passage, Jezuz this place looks like shit. I powered though keeping the car a moderate speed when something locked.
I grunted more in frustration than in pain as I was jostled about the cabin, completely at the mercy of the car as it ping-ponged about the alley walls, finally coming to a stop.
"Ow." I deadpanned as I kicked open what was left of the driver side door. I clutched the top of the vehicle as I slid out, my feet didn't like staying underneath me at the moment.
"Konani!? Konani, what happened?"
I leaned over an peered at the left rear tire, the brake of which was currently in half and on fire. Ain't that some shit.
I retrieve the phone from in between my cleavage and explained, "Well Carter it would seem I'm walking from here."
"Wow, you seem okay that..."
"Wasn't my car."
"Um okay," he replied unsure of what I meant," errr let me think...you need to get higher."
"Why?"
"Really Konani?"
"Yeah Carter, I'm not a freak of nature like Tommi, I can't just scale a wall whenever I feel like it."
"I don't know, look for a fire escape or something."
Most of these building are props, no one lives here. Why would there be a fire...escape. And of course there's a fire escape right above me.
"Carter, let me call you back."
"Wait, what? Kona-"
With the called ended, I stuffed the phone back in my suit. I released an exasperated huff, as I eyed the ladder that was some 3 feet above me.
Where was Monroe when you needed him?
I looked back down, giving my surrounding a quick scan. Satisfied there was nothing for me to fall and kill myself on should I miss...
Which I just have...damnit.
I sketched my legs and tried again.
Damnit.
God, I'm like right there, how can I jump higher? How would Monroe, Tommi, or even Xingyuag do this?
Wall run.
I took a few steps back and pounced. I left foot landing squarely on brick wall staying secure for about 1/8th of a second before slipping. I flailed to the ground landing painfully on my back.
Yeah that looked a lot easier than I probably should have assumed.
So there I lay, looking up at the fire escape that was no doubt mocking me. The kungfu trio would jump up, Carter would probably give up, Tory would shoot at it, and Bonnie would smile the ladder into oblivion.
What would KR do?
Improvise.
With reluctance I rose to my feet, trudging over to the ruined Ryback I grasped the mangled rim and pulled.
It snapped forcing me back fast enough to keep my arms from being crushed by the falling weight of the Cyclone.
Hopeful this will be enough of a vault for me to get airborne.
And it was.
My shoulder stretched painfully as I hung on the bottom rung. With a sharp inhale I heaved myself up, slowly but surely progressing up the latter. I had my foot make reassuring contact with the first rung when I heard something extremely inconvenient.
I looked back to fire a small fire had formed just about the Cyclone's engine compartment, how the fuck is that even possible? Nothing flammable ruptured, did it?
"I FUCKING HATE THIS DAY." I screamed into the sky before doubling my efforts to ascend the fire escape.
The explosion shook everything, sending shrapnel and fire skyward. I cursed as a sharp piece of metal found its way through my suit and across my forearm. The wound wasn't deep, but it did sting like hell. Enough for me to waste time looking for something to patch it with, which, might I add was in vain.
I gritted my teeth as I ascended the series of latters, the sting of my arm hurt just enough to be really, really annoying.
With one surprising clean vault, I was topside, about 6 stories up. All around the city, street lights were warming up as the sun was moments from dipping below the horizon.
A cool breeze picked up, reminding me that I did still have a few open wounds-
"God damnit, you're hard on to chase."
My head swiveled, catching full sight of Sharp's face before I turned and sprinted. My feet pounded the rooftop as I made for the edge.
"Shit! Don't just stand there! Go!" Mason said, barking orders at someone.
The sound of pursuers did nothing for my exhausted resolve, my feet dug onto the roof's edge as I launched myself off.
It's funny how weightlessness feels same whether you're in a car or free running roof tops...thanks Monroe, I owe you one.
My roll onto the adjacent rooftop was less than graceful as I lost my footing and tumbled. I groaned as I picked myself up, my entire body screaming in protest.
The muffled thump of my pursers landing the same jump spurred me back into a full blown sprint. My vault over the low piping was flawless as I made my way to the roof's end. I hung a sharp right, running parallel to the edge I peered over. That's a long way to my evitable death. I scanned across the current roof again, but found that to be very difficult, night had fallen. With every second I ran, what I was running towards became more indistinguishable.
I need to find a car.
The weightless danced in my stomach as I traversed to another building. An open tool presented itself to as I slowed down and dove. Grabbing two hand fulls of whatever I had blindly snatched at, I rolled to my feet and flung whatever was in my right hand at the closet figure to me.
The masked mercenary successfully evaded the attack but in the process allowed his partner to take a massive torque wrench to the face.
The event barely registered within the first man as he continued towards me. It was all the excuse I need to pivot and continue running, thankfully with only one person chasing me.
With a single pair of large wire cutters still in my hand, I leapt for a nearby fire escape on the adjacent building. The darken environment was beginning to wear on my senses as I stumbled with the landing, mere inches from breaking my nose a brick wall. I was half way up the first ladder when I heard the crash of my assailant landing of the wire flooring of the fire escape.
Christ that guy is fast.
At the top of a building once more I bolted for what I hoped was my salvation: I pole with a long sloped electrical wire leading away from this building and ended where I hoped was at least 2 blocks over, a.k.a. untested zip line.
But I had to get to the building it was on first, a structure that was the same height as the current building I was running atop.
Fuck flat jumping...
...is what I would be thinking if I had another option.
I gritted my teeth and tried to pour what little energy I had left into my sprint as I lined up for what I hoped was my very last jump.
Both feet connected with the edge, planted firm and steady as I leaned forward, launching myself up and away.
My limbs only flailed for a moment before the Monroe styled discipline had me swing my legs forward and brace for impact.
There was an unsettling 'thump' as my stomach slammed into the edge of the adjacent roof ejecting spit and a dibble of blood from my mouth. My arms instinctively clawed at the roof to stop myself from falling to an extremely painful death. An effort that was failing until the wire cutters in my hand dug into the surface.
I screamed and grunted until my bruised and bloodied body was rolled onto the roof. A bit more blood found its way into my mouth as I lay on my back. I craned my neck to see where the thug chasing me had ended up.
The sigh of relief was painful, I watched him struggling to decide if following would end up being a potentially suicidal endeavor.
One thing is for sure, I wasn't going to be around to find out. I rolled to my feet and began my limped trek to the zip line-cable.
I turned back to find he was back tracking to get a running start at the jump, more than my queue to leave. I slung the wire cutters over the cable, grasping a handle in each hand and jumped.
"FUCK." I barked as my sore arms exploded with pain from holding all of my weight. The wind slapped my face a glided faster, over the street and into an alley.
Not wishing to slide against the wall the cable was attached to, I bailed. Falling a much farther distance that I would have liked. The ground was as forgiving as a punch from Tory.
But I couldn't stop, never. Now that I was finally away, distance was all that mattered. It seemed my body had given up trying to get me to stop, knowing that the pain at this point, was probably enough.
It's amazing how the set designers made this place like any other scum hole inner city at night, even with these ridiculous motherfucking fences.
After heaving myself over another wall, I remembered my phone. I plotted down and quickly fished it out of my suit.
"Well isn't that just brilliant." I sighed. The phone had, at some point acquired a massive crack down the center. No amount of wishing or luck was going to turn this thing on.
...
I wanted to cry but couldn't.
I just jumped off my seat and continued at a limp down the dimly light streets of Second City.
Boy, what a shitty season this turned out to be. So we came across an underground car trading ring, that's no reason to ruin my life, is it?
I couldn't even manage a grunt as I tomahawked my broken cellphone as far away as possible, just wishing it would hit something important.
CLANK!
I froze, the sound of my phone echoed with unmistakable song of something hitting the frame of a car.
I inched forward, strolling to see what I hit through the darkness.
The angry voice of an engine started reverberated against the surrounding buildings, the car I hit threw on its lights blinding me.
But it didn't move, only staying idle with its high beams burning my retinas. I took a few steps forward, figuring that if it was one of Tyson's goons, they would have bound and gagged me by now.
About the moment I figured out it was a Cyclone before, it's door opened.
"Konani?" the figured said as it stepped toward me.
I nearly collapsed, the weight being lift off my soul was so liberating it was nauseating. Like I was completely unaware of how much stress I was truly under.
I buried my face into KR's chest.
"Nice to see-" his mouth got out before I stopped it with mine.
Utter desire, carnal warmth, and physical console was all I wanted from the man I was suffocating.
The Ryback's suspension creaked as I forced Raven down onto it; I clawed at his back, feeling for as much of his skin as I could. The rigid shock of my assault melted away from his posture as his hands settled around the small of my back.
"Raven." I uttered with a low growl when we surfaced for breath, but any response he may have had was silenced as my tongue darted back into his mouth. I forced KR back onto the windshield while grasping the back of his head, demanding in some way that his kiss deeper than he already was.
I wanted more, I needed more. An itch was beginning to form in between my thighs...I, I need more...I must...
An involuntary twitch dug my pelvis into his erection, his hand began to snake under my suit, I could taste the sweat forming on his face...
The night became as dark as a raven's wing.