A/N: Wow, didn't really think I'd be doing this again after I burned out last time but life takes you in strange directions sometimes. To those who used to read my work, this is largely more of the same mix of titillation and action I like to write. For any newcomers, while I do promise to try and have more of a storyline than a Porn Parody my strength and interests lies in writing harem fics, busty women ect. To that end this is a story focused more on the latter's "Plot" than the plot.
Kurosawa hot springs, Japan
The scent of rose blossoms, their pink petals fluttering on the warm breeze, greeted Lara as she stepped into the almost garden like sacred springs of this mountainous retreat. The misty, gray peaks peering over the red lacquered, oriental wall which ran along one edge of the garden's shielding it from unwanted onlookers. A simpler, but no less traditional, bamboo wall ran across dividing the steam shrouded spring water separating the male's side from the women's. Through the explorer's careful eye couldn't help but notice numerous patches in the bamboo at chest and waist level. Not large by any means, most barely wide enough to get an eyeful-but then what an eyeful they'd be getting.
Chuckling softly to herself as she strutted to the water's edge. Her slender fingers moving towards the silk tied bow of her robe gently tugging on it as she pulled it undone. White cloth spreading, shimmering apart from her creamy, pale skin revealing her navel and her shapely hips before the white cloth drooped and spilled from her firm, jutting tits. Heaving forward, rising and falling in time with her breath, as the nimble tomb raider bent her shoulders back as her robe gracefully slide down it pooling to the ground. The glitter of polished steel sparkling from each firm, swaying breast as she moved. Steel "dumbbell" poking through each of her bright pink nipples.
Stepping away from it, plump round ass cheeks subtly rising and falling in time to her long legs, the adventurer posed twisting her back as she looked behind her. Delicately running the fingers of her hand across one half-crescent cheek. Giving a sharp slap which echoed as her butt cheeks clapped together. The mature, thirty-two year old rather pleased that her rather strenuous regime of aerobics, exercise and diet were paying off in shaping and maintaining her lovely body. After all there was little point in wearing those tiny shorts if she didn't have anything to show off.
Though as pleasing as that thought was she did feel the flare of a dull ache of pain up through the small of her back. The burning itchiness of sore muscles. Partly of course this was due to the weighty twin peaks she carried on her chest. Untwisting her back the explorer ran her hands up along the generous sides of her jutting breasts. The swell of the underside of her tits bubbling outwards along the edges of her hands as she cupped pressing them together deepening her cleavage. Momentarily relieving some of the weight she carried with her during the day.
The other reason for her soreness extended from the ordeal of reacquiring something that belonged to her. Or rather her chosen means of escape after she got her hands on it. Lara's beautiful face souring into a frown as the Tomb Raider pressed against the hard, sore knot in her back. Her firm, silicon bullet-shaped tits thrusting out even more. Remembering her ordeal with that crazy goth bitch Amanda, titty-stuckage in a ventilation shaft stupidly designed far too narrow, copious amounts of chocolate syrup and cooking oil as well as a rather nasty plummet through a greased chute the rest of the way down. Not to mention the mysterious, MesoAmerican idol the size of an eggplant she'd been forced to smuggle wedged firmly up between those plump ass cheeks of hers. Feeling the pink ring of her anus tighten just at the memory of that ordeal.
After that harrowing, and far too close for her liking, escape a long vacation had been in order to recuperate. So here she was in the latest leg of a global spanning sourno which had seen her enjoying the lights and beauty of the Paris nightlife, the warm beaches of Cancun and now the tranquil and rejuvenating waters of these mountain springs and the secluded village which contained them.
Letting her prized breasts fall from her grasp, her twin girls springing apart without a hint of sag or droop, Lara stretched out her leg past the water's edge wading into the soothing, warm water. Round cheeks of her ass sinking below the surface then her hips as she moved deeper passing beneath one of the ornate fountains and stone guardians which stood watch over the springs. In this case the protective spirit of the Earth Baragon which had been adopted as something of a guardian angel for the village. Warm water gurgling from the horned deity's stone, gargoyle like jaw washing down over Lara. Feeling the relaxing, heated tendrils soaking down through her braided hair down into her scalp, running down her neck as she stood beneath it before sinking even lower into the steamy water.
Pushing out from beneath the fountain as she did spreading her arms out in slow, languid circle around herself as she submerged to chest level. Her fabulous tits bobbing in the steamy water. Tendrils of which coiled around her glistening, wet skin as Lara let out a mournful sigh. Curling an arm in front of her as she scooped up a palm full of water splashing droplets across her neck and collarbone. A fine spray of water beads landing against her glistening, wet tits as she reached rubbing the soothing, heated water into her soft skin and strong, supple muscles running through her neck and shoulder.
"For such a beautiful woman, you go to great lengths to hide yourself away from the world." The soft, demure of a woman's voice purred interrupting Lara's tranquility.
The voice sultry and domineering with hints of a vaguely European accent the explorer couldn't quite place. No doubt intentionally so on the other woman's part playing the part of the woman of mystery. Her accent as carefully shaped and practiced as Lara's own appearance was.
Letting of a small sigh at the world intruding into her solace, the Tomb Raider craned her neck to see a pair of long, supple legs standing beside the edge of the spring. Traveling up along them as the woman undid her the knot of her robe. A shimmering black thing with scarlet red trim which crawled and traced across the curvy body it clung too.
Red and black folds unfurling sliding apart as Lara's eyes met the ripe folds of the woman's sex. The ripple of motion from the woman's shoulders as she wiggled free from her garment causing those lips to pull slightly apart flashing a glimpse of pink to the explorer. Through her attention was quickly pulled upwards as easily one of the largest tits she'd ever seen rose into view from beneath the sliding fabric. An areola and nipple a dusky, reddish hue trailing against the black as midnight material becoming visible. The slightest bounce coming from the firm, round breast as it completely escaped its confines quickly joined by its sister with its own sedate jiggle. Edges of the woman's arms sinking against the edges of her bosom as she arched her shoulders letting the robe finishing sliding down causing her chest to swell outward even further.
Casting a small shadow across Lara as the other woman rested a hand on her hip. Long tresses of rich, black hair cascading freely down over the woman's bare shoulders undulating with the motion. Round breasts springing back apart from the departing pressure resuming their natural, buoyant shape as well as allowing Lara to finally see their owner's face. An aristocratic smile peering down from between those mountainous peaks as bright, dazzling eyes fluttered from behind a pair of sleek, black-framed glasses. Giving the woman the slight aura of a naughty librarian or teacher. Through Lara felt pity for any man who failed to notice the viper-like cunning or intelligence which brewed in those beautiful eyes as well. Well maybe not so much "pity" but…she at least wished them luck.
Deciding through she didn't look like one of Amanda's lackey's. If only because, Lara's eyes trailing back down to her colossal chest slowly rising and falling with her sedate breath, she doubted the stuck up goth bitch would hire anyone with such a better tit job than her.
"But forgive me. How rude of me not to introduce myself." The woman said as she began to step down into the warm spring water." Decobray. Anastasia Decobray. No relation to Anastasia Romanov, unfortunately."
The latter punctuated by a short, regal laugh the sort expected of a woman of high society. Decobray hips making small ripples in the water as she sunk down into the steamy bath until she was level with the floating Lara. Like her, the raven-haired woman's breasts rose magnificently upwards from the soothing water. Rivers of water pouring down off the sides or vanishing down into her cleavage.
Lifting her legs and giving a small kick, the action causing her own breasts to rise and slap against the heated water, Lara circled around to face this new woman letting her approach. The former's eyes still drawn to the dark-haired beauty's swollen, round tits protruding half submerged from beneath the steamy surface. It wasn't often that Croft met another woman who could rival or exceed her and that intrigued the chestnut-brown heroine more than whatever the woman's true purpose was.
Doing nothing as the dark-haired woman approached until those firm, round tits of hers pressed against the Tomb Raider's own torpedoes. A titanic, watery battle commencing as Lara's titanic cannons pressed squishing against the tight skin of Decobray's own mammoth melons. Lara's sinking beneath the water a little more as the other woman's swelled over engulfing them for a moment before retreating pressed back as Croft's boobs slipping upwards again. Creamy flesh against creamy flesh. Lara's pink nipples twisting around her busty rival's darker, reddish ones poking and flipping across them.
"Cruz. Laura Cruz." Lara replied using her current alias.
Raising a hand to curl a slick, wet strand of hair from her vision and push it to the side of her angelic face. And using the motion to thrust out her chest further pushing back against the other woman's breasts and forcing them back a few millimeters.
"And I'm afraid you went to an awful lot of effort to track down a busty socialite and gossip monger." Lara concluded with a laugh of her own." Still I appreciate the attention but I did come out here to be alone. So if you'll excuse me…"
Curious about this woman but then Lara had long ago learn that curiosity frequently led to painful consequences. And still recovering from her last "easy job" she wasn't in a hurry for another. Long, slender arm rising up from beneath the water reaching for the spring's edge as she prepared to climb out when she felt the other woman's hands on her shoulders holding her in place.
"Laura Cruz? I can't believe anyone could possible fall for such a simple ploy." Decobray laughed, this one less formal and more genuine sounding.
The delicate touch of her hands traveling down along Lara's shoulders to her chest alongside the outer edges of her heaving bosom. Slender fingers splaying spreading across the ample surface of those large tits fondling the sensitive torpedoes. Croft's erogenous pillows rose slightly from the water wiggling from the ministrations as Lara bite her bottom lip from the pleasurable sensation.
Unlike Anastasia's breast which rose high and firm jutting from her chest like two splendid round peaks, Lara's, through just as firm, hung a little lower across her ribcage and were more conical in shape giving the busty British explorer more of a classic, if cartoonish, "pin-up" bust.
"Not that it matters. As if anyone could mistake these." The raven-haired beauty said squeezing Lara's tits a little more firmly, pale flesh bubbling out between her kneading fingers."800cc sub-glandular, high profile, custom made conical silicone implants. Literally no one else in the world possesses a set of knockers like these-Lady Croft."
Earning a small smile from the brunette feeling just a touch of chagrin. She'd deliberately ordered her custom implants in order to be eye-catching. Lara wasn't knave or ignorant on how the world works. In order to rise from the pack and become world famous in a field dominated by sweaty men who toiled in comparative obscurity meant using every tool at her disposal. Her mind and skills yes, she doubted there were many men who could have pulled off half of her adventures, but sex appeal as well. Discover a lost ruin deep inside the Peruvian jungle? That might earn your name in a few dusty magazines only archeologists read, maybe a couple of paragraphs in some textbook somewhere. Discover the same in a tight, blue tank top hugging her spectacular and unique torpedo tits and hip hugging booty shorts and you'd get your picture across every newspaper and magazine not to mention endless calls for televised interviews.
"You did your homework." An impressed Lara admitted meeting the other woman's eyes.
The other woman resourceful, not to mention determined, enough to gain access to her medical chart. Making a note in her mind to give her plastic surgeon a ring, curious as to just what length the raven-haired woman had gone to to gain access to such information. As if she hadn't already guessed she was feeling them squished up against her cannons already.
Water rippling as the Tomb Raider's fingers emerged from either side of Decobray's large, spherical tits. Wrapping around them as she slide her palms cupping the underside of each heavy melon. Thumb of each hand brushing across and pressing down against the reddish bud.
"It's something of a lifelong passion of mine, my dear." The dark-haired woman said with an amused smile at Lara's fascination.
"I can see that." Croft replied as she swiveled with her hands pushing the other woman's breasts upwards and against each other.
Warm water pouring out from beneath from the rising tits or squirted outward from the pressing, creamy canyon walls splashing against Lara's surprised face. Droplets of which falling back down to glide across the explorer's own smooth and perfect skin. Smirking, Anastasia resuming her massaging of the Tomb Raider's breasts. Fingers flexing molding and reshaping the firm, jutting hooters around only pause and relax her grip marveling at how they sprung back resuming their torpedo shape. Causing a shiver to run through Lara's entire body.
"Hmmmm….that, combined with how much trouble you went through to find me…has earned your three minutes." Croft answered, her look of euphoric bliss morphing to one of resolve.
She was never one to be caught back-footed, no matter the situation. And to her credit, the other woman accepted the challenge with a flush of pride. Not to mention she was getting to feel up one of the world's most famous pair of breasts. Almost wishing she could have smuggled a camera to capture this moment for later.
"My darling Destro will be so jealous he missed out." The dark-haired woman thought as she squeezed and rolled Lara's tits around in her cupping palms." But more for me to enjoy I suppose."
Neither woman halting their ministration on the other's breast becoming something of a competition or challenge against the other. Seeing who would break or yield first from the pleasurable pawing.
"Very well, to be succinct I represent an interested third-party putting together an expedition to an uncharted, south seas island only recently declassified." Anastasia said with a small shrug of her shoulders." Part scientific expedition, part documentary. All ego on the part of my client. For obvious reasons your expertise would be invaluable in such a hostile, unknown environment."
Slowly circling the edges of her thumbs against the small, pink tips of Lara's nipples as she spoke. Lifting and tugging against the weight of the piercing as she rolled each hard bud. Moving in tighter and tighter until she pressed pushing them into the ample, creamy tit-flesh.
"Not interested." Lara replied fighting back the moaning gasp." There has to be hundreds of Cold War jocks who wouldn't mind playing babysitter."
Still cupping the other woman's breasts, creamy boob-flesh mushrooming out over the top of her hands, Lara lifted one further upwards as she leaned forward. Her breath, so much cooler than the steam billowing up from the spring water below, causing goose pimples to spread across the woman's pale skin before Croft's lips caught the reddish nipple. The bud briefly wrestling against her clamping mouth before Lara's skilled tongue began to lash and flick it around.
"Hmmmm…oh yes…" Decobray muttered softly to herself."…mmmmph…under normal circumstances you'd be correct. However this is no normal island. Officially it doesn't exist-deliberately excised from any world map whether American or Russian. Neither side wants to admit it exist you see-through I've heard the US sent a mission to the island in the 70's back when Landsat discovered it. However none of the team apparently returned."
Lara reluctantly let the other woman's nipple, glistening with her saliva, slip from between her lips. Allowing the large breast to submerge back beneath the water with its sister. Pinching finger replacing her hungry mouth as she tugged on both jiggling tits'.
Her interest piqued, she allowed Anastasia to continue her little story. After the raven-haired woman paused to catch her breath. Hint of red blush appearing across her face from the continued ministrations to her large breasts.
"Decades earlier a 30's film crew reportedly stumbled upon the island. With them making claims of the island being populated by certain large fauna believed extinct by the wider world." Decobray said, her breath slow and coming out in short pant like intervals." Ones you have a passing familiarity with."
Now it was her turn to scoop one of the brunet's torpedo like tits from the water. Warm rivulets running down over her hand raining down back to the steamy pool as the dark-haired woman's red lips clamped down over the sensitive, pink bud sucking it into her mouth. Her teeth delicately holding the nipple in place as her tongue bathed and curled around dancing across the cold, metallic taste of steel and warm, succulent pink flesh. Her own pink muscle curling around the steel bar as she pulled on it sensually stretching the pink peak.
"Ugh…you're….mmmmph…you're talking about-aaah-Dinosaurs, aren't you?" Lara asked rhetorically fighting to pay attention past the pleasurable sensations of her breasts." Bloody nasty nippers."
Despite the undeniable pleasure, there was a note of pride in the brunet's voice. Thinking back to the moment she'd finally felled the Tyrant Lizard King. Standing there, her mammoth chest heaving in the hot, humid jungle standing over the crumpled, giant brown reptile. Her sweat dampened top, material nearly sheer by that point, clinging to the wet, glistening skin of her spectacular tits. Molding against the curve of her firm, jutting breasts or sinking down between her cleavage slowly bubbling outward from the sweat stained material with each sweet, triumphant breath she took. Remembering how powerful she felt in that moment. No hint of a bra beneath her slick top, firm nipples proudly on display tenting out the almost sheer fabric. Sticky warmth soaking through her panties, gossamer strand wedged tightly between her wet folds, having to fight the urge to slip her fingers down between them.
"Never learned if I truly found the lost valley spoken of in Saquin tribal legends or merely the engineered constructs for a bored billionaire's biological amusement park." Lara continued." Of course afterwards I was mobbed by a coalition of paleontologists came forward to discredit me-claiming it was all an elaborate fabrication since the dinosaurs weren't feathered or some such rot."
The other woman nodded which only increased the fabulous sensations coming from Lara's right tit. Pink bubbles of pleasure exploding in the Tomb Raider's mind as she began to pant. Almost upset when the sensation ceased and Anastasia rose back up. Droplets of water dripping from her fronds of silky black hair running down her collarbone or landing against her fat boobs rising half out of the water's surface.
Thinking, just for a second, she'd won this little titty-contest of theirs only to watch as the raven-haired beauty began to circle around her. Gliding through the soothing, warm water as coiling ropes of steam swirled around her glistening body. A moment later Lara felt the weight of the woman, and those mammoth melons of hers, pressing down against her back. Delicate hands sinking beneath the water's surface to ensnare around her waist. Anastasia's warm breath tickling along the nape of Lara's neck as she leaned in close.
Those hands moving upwards curling over the brunette's waist feeling her trim muscle before cradling Lara's firm, jutting breasts. Slender, pale fingers emerging from the steamy water as Anastasia squeezed and fondled Lara's bullet tits. Creamy flesh bulging outward above and beside where she pressed.
"Dinosaurs, killer plants…some of the crew even spoke of ruins from before the age of the Egyptians. Tall tells perhaps, told by drunken and boastful sailors, but perhaps not. Certainly stranger things exist in this world of ours." The dark-haired woman whispered into Lara's ear.
Her tongue gently flicking across the outer edge as the other woman purred. Her red lips squeezing down as she nibbled along the bottom of the brunette's ear.
"So…"Anastasia breathlessly whispered letting go." It's been five minutes…should I go? Or do you want to continue our conversation?"
The black-haired woman's hands moved over across the front of Lara's jutting torpedo tits scooping and pressing them together as she lifted them above the water line. Droplets of warm water running down across them and her kneading fingers tugging on the cool, smooth bars of steel running through each nipple.
Causing a moan to seep out from Lara's mouth, her own hand vanishing beneath the water's surface. Drawn, almost like a magnet, to the building fire in her cloth. Warm water mingling with her own juices and arousal as she pressed rubbing a finger down along her slit. Pushing the folds aside as she inserted and thrusted a finger pumping into herself.
"Y-You have my attention…my undivided attention. Which is a bloody rarity, I must say." Lara purred as she rolled her hips.
Pushing backwards with her sculpted ass. Those perfect, plump pillows grinding against the other woman's sex.
"So tell me, what is the name of this Lost World? This dreaming City of R'lin K'rena or Atlantis. This fabled and storied relic of antiquity your benefactor wishes to wed themselves into its legend?" Lara asked pushing back just a little bit harder now her ass bubbling up between Anastasia's thick thighs. Earning a chuckle as well as a moan from the other woman.
"Trust me. If anything, the Lady Dimitrescu wants to add it to her legend rather than the other way around." Anastasia said sucking on Lara's neck leaving a tingling trail."As to your question, the island has been known by many names down through the ages. To Arabian scholars it was known as Colassa while in the 18th century a Dutch Merchant captain gave it the name Faro island after a mispronunciation of the surrounding islander's name for it."
Both women panting now. Anastasia rolling Lara's tits around in her grasp, pinching her sensitive nipples, while her own sex was pressed and rubbed by that sculpted ass of the Tomb Raider. Both nearly to their limit.
"Of course, most sailors would recognize it by another, more superstitious name." The raven-haired beauty said as she leaned in to hungrily kiss Lara's lips." A more direct translation of the native islander's word for it…Skull Island…"
Cobra Temple, Location Unknown
The scowling, silver-masked man seated himself in front of a vast, electronic array of super computers and CRT television screens. Most of which was dark and unused now but, combined with the complex array of microwave transmitters built into the side of the reclusive, mountain complex easily allowed them to hijack orbiting satellites and project footage from across the globe be it military or civilian. The computer terminal before him easily the most sophisticated and advanced M.A.R.S. Industries, or anyone else in the world, could produce…circa 1978.
Now it was little more than a dusty, forgotten relic fittingly entombed in megalomaniacal but utterly impractical mountain retreat. The chrome-fitted Destro feeling bile-induced rage in himself for being reduced to such an antiquated lair after the Commander's latest and most disastrous folly.
The man's muscular chest expanded and fell as he sighed. The sound coming out more like a dragon's snarl than anything human yet the silver-faced specter felt his anger subsiding. All of that, the death of Major Blud, the disappearance of Cobra Commander and the destruction of their Springfield base…was in the past. Destro was a man of the future, of grand vision firmly believing that those who dared won. And as the highest ranked surviving member of Cobra, along with the Baroness, it was his duty to see Cobra evolve and prosper into the dawning 21st century.
His sulking brooding over with, he reached a steely gauntlet to the console pressing a switch upwards then keying in three buttons in quick succession. The man's jaw clenching beneath his Beryllium steel mask as he heard the unmistakable whine of microfiche memory tape being played up to speed. A moment later the center, largest television screen glowed with desaturated light as black and white footage began to play. Destro's dark-green eyes narrowing from behind his mask as he peered at the shaky, 8mm hand camera pan across the silver surface of a cigar-shaped nuclear submarine towards the open sea. A foreboding island in the hazy distance.
When suddenly the placid water crested and swelled in front of the submarine as a colossal, dark mass surfaced bursting forth from beneath the displaced ocean water in a torrential downpour of saltwater. Camera cutting back towards the submarine as it nearly capsized. Flailing men in naval uniforms flung over the edge or knocked off by the foamy spray pelting down across the ship's surface.
Only then, as it subsided, did the cameraman pivot back to the immense, hairy mountain its matted fur salt encrusted. Only resolved into the form an immense, giant ape as the cameramen slowly panned up to show the thing's head. Its water-dripping face twisted into a snarl as the creature dealt with the writhing, serpentine form coiled around its barrel chest and arm. A scaly, draconian head twisting up from the shaggy fur of the thing's arm to bite down into the ape's shoulder. The rest of its lithe, lean body contracting in shattering coils attempting to squeeze the life out from its prey. In turn the ape's rugged chest bellowed outward combating the crushing coils.
The sound of the room's door opening from over Destro's shoulder broke his concertation turning in his seat to see a shapely Cobra trooper standing there holding a tray of wine and food. Long, bushy, blonde hair falling out from behind her helmet. The scarlet emblem of Cobra stretched and distorted across the woman's chest-mostly due to her insistence on wearing uniforms at least two sizes too small for her.
Thin stretched blue fabric showing off the outline of her young, perky breasts quite spectacularly each breast subtly moving as she walked closer seemingly without any support. Leaning so those tits of hers were inches from his face as she laid the tray across a table beside the console.
"I gave explicit instructions not to be disturbed. Destro said gruffly.
Through there was a light-heartedness behind the gravelly voice seldom heard by others. Recognizing the shapely blonde as Attendant Ilsa, one of Baroness's handmaidens and female vipers. An elite cadre of women killers.
" Through I suppose you hold my orders in the same regard as the Baroness's to stay away from me." He mused.
Pulling down the black cloth of her mask from below her dazzling eyes to reveal a pixie like smile the blonde woman reached to pour a glass of wine. Holding it out for Destro.
"Nonsense, you still need to eat. As for the Baroness…well she isn't here right now, is she?" Ilsa replied with a cheeky grin." And B-movies are always better with company, anyway."
Deliberately changing the subject to the playing footage as she poured herself a glass of wine as well. A familiarity rarely allowed with the Scottish Lord. An allowance he made for the blonde since he saved her life during an attack by the Joes and she'd…shown her appreciation afterwards.
Accepting his own glass of wine, the green-eyed tyrant smiled. There was nothing she'd found out that Destro enjoyed more than an opportunity to pontificate upon some subject he was well versed in.
"What you call a "B-movie", my dear Attendant, is the footage captured by one Commander Carl Nelson, an American naval officer. It seems that while conducting an UN scientific mission in the late sixties his submarine suffered mechanical failure and they were forced to make harbor at an uncharted island." Destro said as the light from the screen danced across his metal face.
Watching as the still struggling ape's chest inexorably expanded pushing apart the vise like grip of the snake's knotted body in a herculean effort. Allowing it to fill its swelling lungs with a much needed gasp of air as the shaggy monster's free hand reached across to grab the horned crest of the serpent's head. Dark fingers digging down burrowing through the adamantine scales as the reptile's head was squeezed rupturing like a grape. Ripping the shattered skull, and its fangs embedded into his wooly shoulder, from itself the ape began to unravel the snake from around its body flinging it aside into the water where it vanished in another miniature tsunami as the simian resumed its pursuit of submarine.
The last sight of it as it was wading deeper into the ocean water, foam-specked sea rising up against its chest, after the now departing sub before Nelson had at last turned retreating into his ship. Pulling the circular hatch closed behind him as his sub began to submerge.
"Unfortunately the fools that were his superiors refused to believe we live in a world of such gods and monsters labeling his footage a fraud and he a liar." Destro swirling the dark hue of his wine around in his glass for a moment letting it settle before taking a sip.
Interrupted by his attendant's supple form sliding over onto his lap. Her flexible legs straggling him and the command chair as the tightly-clinging front of her uniform shirt hovered in front of his face. The red emblem stretching across the two soft mounds as she puffed out her chest further. A further familiarity Destro decided to allow smiling from inside his mask.
"I don't see what the big deal is. Still looks like a big monkey to me." She said with a hint of boredom, her mind already turning to more exciting things the two of them could be doing.
Running her fingertips up along the edge of his flared, hood-like collar of the Cobra leader's rather flamboyant costume. Very 80's hair metal in her opinion. Hand running down the V-shaped plunging neckline feeling his bronze chest. Those dense, sculpted muscles he was clearly so proud off. Peeling the edge of his costume back exposing more of his chest. Not a lot, just enough to see the start of the grayish-white scars curling across the side of his abdomen. Remembering the weight of his strong chest sheltering her pressing her to the damp earth against the red hot slivers of shrapnel from the demolished, fire engulfed base only yards away.
Her cheeks turning a pinkish-red she quickly downed her glass of wine with a smooth, polished motion. The fiery burning running down her throat a reassuring notion as she turned her focus back towards Destro.
"Oh it is much more than that. Imagine such a creature cloned hundreds- nay thousands-of times over and implanted with my neural-dominators. An invincible army slaved to my will and sellable to whomever can afford my price." The Scotsman said reaching a hand up to stroke Ilsa's face.
An act as gentle as it was deliberate brushing across her soft, vibrant and young cheek as the smiling woman began reach to remove her helmet. Blue painted steel crashing to the floor with a metallic clang as she shook out her mane of golden-blonde hair. Laying her own wine glass on the table next to the untouched food as she stared into those deep, emerald eyes of his. Showing none of the Baroness's cruel cunning, her manipulator schemes for dominance and control.
He found the difference invigorating. As Ilsa no doubt could feel. The fruits of her efforts prodding up against the comely woman's lap encouraging her to take things farther.
The blonde squirming, pressing against the growing package against her mound. Feeling it rub against her swollen lips through the layers of her uniform-layers she quickly moved to start to shed.
"Interesting. Well no, not really. Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a Donkey Kong reject." She said cheekily crossing her arms in front of herself as she began to peel the snug, blue fabric of her uniform shirt upwards." The part about the money sounds nice through. A lot better than attacking the Joes with them."
Making an "X" shape across her chest as she reached down grabbing the edge of her snug uniform shirt. Edges of her arm sinking against her soft breasts causing them to deform and bulge out from underneath filling out the space between. Shimming the cerulean fabric up along her curvy form exposing the nape of her small, flat stomach and her flexing ribs as she peeled the tiny uniform up to her breasts. Pale, creamy flesh of their underside ballooning into view pushing out underneath as the rising, tight band of fabric shifted tugging her tits upwards along with it. Wobbling wonders only slowly spilling out from beneath the stretched, blue material.
Rubbing across the tented peaks of her hard nipples as the pale, rosy-pink nips slowly appeared out from underneath as the swelling tit-flesh plopped completely out first on one side then the other. No longer constrained by the restrictive material each expanded outward encompassing the space in front of the silver-faced terrorist.
Jutting out from Ilsa's chest as the blonde finished pulling her uniform top up over her shoulder. Long, blond hair silkily swishing behind her as she twirled the royal blue fabric then hurled it after her discarded steel helmet.
The woman's marvelous D-cup breasts tantalizingly quivering uncontrollably from the slightest effort. Hanging lower on her frame than the Baroness's, the tug of gravity pulling them down into plump, shaking teardrops emphasizing their weight more despite their smaller size to the former's taunt, round spheres.
For his part, Destro couldn't help but smile at the blonde's comment. His hand gripping her shapely thigh as she straddled him. The steel, metallic fingers of his gauntlet moving upwards and across as he cupped the jiggling, ample cheek of the bubble-shaped ass. Like her hooters, it was a little softer than the Baronesses whose own strict exercise regime possessed the most intoxicating blend of firmness and soft, padded femininity.
Ilsa's was just pliant enough to excitedly spring back into shape the instant the pressure of his kneading fingers shifted. Or for those wobbling, plump round cheeks to most satisfyingly clap together as she bent in front of him riding his cock. The latter, still trapped within his pants, tenting upwards poking along the inside rim of the lovely, blonde woman's thighs.
"Our dear Cobra Commander did suffer from a particularly acute lack of imagination in that regard. Viewing war as an extension ideology while for me war is merely business. The same as any other." The Scottish lord remarked jovially.
His laugh becoming muffled as the Blonde leaned herself forward over him. Her hands going to his broad, muscular shoulders supporting her slender, curved body. The latter shivering at the icy cool touch of the man's Beryllium steel mask on her sensitive skin pressing and rubbing her soft boobs across Destro's face. Gleaming metal reflecting the bouncy mountains which swell and rose as she pressed her tits mushrooming the creamy tit-flesh all around the Scotsman stoic visage.
Squishing his face between each wobbling melon as her hand moved from his shoulder to cradling the back of his chrome head helping to push it deeper into her enveloping cleavage. Giving a small bounce on his lap, lifting her full rear off of him briefly, as she pumped her fat teardrops sliding them up and down along her lover's face.
"I think that's enough talk about the Commander or giant Apes, don't you?" Ilsa giggled wiggling on the terrorist's lap grinding the heat of her sex against the bulge she found there." Oooh, Biiiiig Destro certainly has more pressing things on his mind, doesn't he?"
Letting out a sultry moan as she reared up slightly. Heavy teardrops bucking upwards then drooping back down dangling just above the emerald-eyed man's face. Her hard, pale nipples swishing from side to side through the air pointing ever so slightly downward towards him.
"Like them, don't you? Hehe. I know Big Destro does…I can feel it." She teased bending the inside of her arms against her malleable breasts." And these are all me, not one bit of plastic unlike your Russian Barbie."
Swelling cleavage waggling at Destro as her tits mushroomed bulging outward above and below the slender sides of her pressing arms. Ravine of cleavage deepening as Ilsa shook her energetic, jiggling tits from side to side for him.
Behind her seductive, writhing form however a red, flashing light clicked on the desk of the computer terminal impatiently blinking for an response. Subtle change in the hum and pitch of the ancient mainframes magnetic tapedrives as it prepared to decode and interpret the coded signal bouncing all over the globe off of just as many satellites the signal was piggybacked off of. In a method developed to be as close to undetectable or traceable as humanly possible. Reserved for only the most highly ranked Cobra operatives operating in the field.
Which meant either that Cobra Commander had decided out of the blue to end his mysterious disappearance or…
Those jade-colored eyes widening as the Scottish warlord was gripped with the closest approximation he ever felt towards fear as he raised his steely hands sliding them up along the Blonde's pale-white shoulders. Ilsa's sensual whimper turning into a confused shout as she was pushed sliding down from Destro's lap depositing the curvy cobra trooper onto the floor in front of him. The top of her blonde head just below the range of the camera pointing up from the desk of the blinking terminal.
"H-hey!" Ilsa protested craning her head behind her to see the flashing light for the first time." You could simply told me to move-now what am I going to do? I'm going to be stuck here the whole time while that icy bitch yaps at you."
Looking back around at Destro, whipping her silky blonde hair around as she did so. Through a little sore at her lover, she couldn't help smile a little. Knowing she'd be there, just out of sight, topless adding a naughty thrill to her already present arousal. And she could see the same in the Scotsman's eyes as he briefly ran those silver, steel fingers of his through her soft hair.
"Perhaps I merely didn't wish to risk you straying from my side, my dear." The big man purred reaching for the transmission control switch on the console.
Through with his deep voice said rumbling purr sounded so much closer to the fierce growl of a powerful jungle cat than a kitten. Lifting his gaze up, Destro shifted his posture to his typical relaxed but supremely confident in himself style as the main computer screen crackled to life.
Exploding into color as the image was decompressed and refined, the hum of the terminal increasing from the extra strain, as it resolved into the beautiful, busty form of the Baroness. Sunlight streaming in behind her past the silky curtains of the lavish Japanese resort she was staying at for this leg of her assignment. Seated on the edge of the resort room's bed in front of the mobile transmitter, disguised as a common suitcase, as she leaned making an adjustment to the signal strength from her end.
Her long, fabulous midnight-black hair done up behind her head and held in place with an ornate pin with a snake-like dragon carved from a large, white pearl. The latter finding a reptilian sibling in flared hood of the jeweled cobra-shaped brooch the stacked, European lady of war had pinned to her executive office jacket she wore. The tightly clasped buttons stopping far enough down so as not to distract from the deep "V-shaped" plunge of her neckline and her silky, red camisole she wore underneath. The soft, gossamer material creeping downward against the heaving bosom struggling to escape. Each firm, round sphere slightly dimpled by the crimson fabric hugging against it causing the top half of each tit to bulge upwards over the edge of the fabric. Slowly enveloping it as the blood-red garment stretched tautly across the remainder until it was nearly see-through.
Which the green-eyed Scotsman had the perfect view of since her magnificent melon tits filled up the bottom half of the screen as she leaned forward and even when she withdrew, her adjustment to the transmitter complete, they filled a third of the frame. Something he doubted was entirely an accident.
"Greetings, Destro darling." The Baroness said in that haughty but aroused voice of hers." I hope you haven't been to terribly lonely during my long absence. Cooped up as you are in that stuffy Cobra Temple."
Reaching a hand up to adjust her glasses and in the process slide her arm up against the edge of her mammoth breasts gently jostling them. Right breast rising upwards as it was pressed against the rising arm almost seeping out of her top entirely. Caught only by the plucky tip of her reddish-pink nipple on the rim. The hard bud digging into the stretching fabric keeping it from sliding down the expansive orb entirely.
Down on the floor, Ilsa couldn't help but make a face hearing the sultry, dark-haired beauty speak. Unable able to believe just how stuck up the Aristocratic brat actually was. Peering up at her silver-masked hero as she mimed sticking one of her slender fingers down her throat gagging.
"It is tolerable only through thoughts of you each day." Destro answered fighting back the urge to laugh at Ilsa's antics." And the knowledge it brings us ever closer to our ultimate goal. "
On the screen the Baroness seemed satisfied with his answer. Corners of her seductive lips curled into that bedroom smile of hers. Finishing adjusting her glasses she lowered her arm finally allowing her heavy, firm round tit to slip back into place with a modest jiggle.
"On that front everything proceeds as you so brilliantly envisioned. While she took some er… persuasion the famed Lady Croft has elected to throw herself in with me, er…our expedition." The Baroness corrected herself, a slight hint of rose going unnoticed across her cheeks by the Scottish Lord." By this afternoon tomorrow the both of us will have joined with the others in the Kingdom of Macromastia. And with luck setting sail for the island by weeks end." The raven-haired woman paused again, tiniest frown appearing on her face." That is if the "oh so precious and entitled" Dimitrescu can be bothered to get off her fat ass to lead her own expedition. Honestly the thought of being trapped for weeks on end with that upstart, peasant-noble is truly more terrifying than anything we might face on the island."
The Aristocratic woman thinking back to just how many times she had to bite her own tongue to keep from snapping back at the way Dimitrescu talked to her-to her!- as if she was just some common housegirl or servant. Having turned up several weeks previously at the dilapidated pigsty in Eastern Europe the Countess called a village posing as Anastasia Decobray. A renaissance woman and socialite from a minor noble line of innumerable talents and skills. One comfortable moving among the rarified circles of lords and ladies through upbringing, instinct and training.
First as a companion of almost equal status, at least in Dimitrescu's eyes, to the countess as well as teacher to the wretched urchins she called her daughters. But it hadn't taken long for the Baroness to worm her way into the aristocrat's graces and help her organize the hazardous expedition to Skull Island Dimitrescu just so "accidently" happened to be trying to get off the ground at this time.
For his part, listening to the beautiful woman complain, amused Destro to no end. Thankful for his gleaming, silver mask as he suppressed a grin at hearing the Baroness of all women complain about the haughty demeanor of another. Completely missing the mischievous look which appeared on the hidden blonde's beautiful face still safely sequestered below the frame of the camera.
Idly thrumming her slender, soft fingers down along her chrome-faced hero's knee and thigh feeling how his strong muscles flexed and coiled tightly underneath the legging. Sensed of course by her silver-faced hero who didn't dare look away from the raven-haired woman on the screen.
"The poorest imitation and reflection of your own true nobility and breeding, my dear, from a tired line quickly fading from history." The Scottish Lord laughed." Trading on an ancient name and accumulated wealth. Little wonder then she wishes to make her mark on the dying 20th century. Before vanishing entirely in the twentieth-first."
Considering it a stroke of supreme good fortune he'd even come across the obscure "Great Lord" presiding over a ruinous, forgotten backwater village and her fascination with the mysterious, fabled island. Giving him the first spark for his own grandiose plans.
Having been relayed of her intentions from one of his few informants still remaining following the collapse of the Iron Curtain and the USSR itself. A most curious fellow, rather archaically posing himself as a traveling merchant catering from back of a wagon the desperate, scattered hinterland long ignored by the Soviet Politburo.
Destro's laughing trailing off however, his posture stiffening ever so slightly pressing against the rising back of his chair, as he felt the feather touch of Ilsa's fingers move along the inside of his leg. Tip of one finger tracing over the tented bulge of his manhood curling along his head and running across his twitching shaft as she reached to start undoing the front of his black pants.
Sound of the zipper's teeth creaking as they slide apart widening a gaping entrance the devilishly smiling blonde's fingers then crept into feeling the heat emanating up through the Cobra branded boxers. Peering up at Destro's face, seeing him unable to look away from the monitor screen as she began wiggling her hands down inside his boxers. Fingers closing around the hard, thick length she found inside as she began to coax the turgid thing free from its confines.
Outline rising upwards traveling across his pants until it appeared at the opening. Swollen, bulbous head catching on the bottom of the opened fly bending for a moment before catapulting outward as it straightened. Nearly brushing across the blonde's cheek as she suppressed an excited giggle.
Pink sliver of her tongue appearing running across her lips giving them a wet, glossy sheen as she leaned close blowing her warm, tickling breath just over the cap. Enjoying how the purple, almost angry-looking mushroom cap quivered at her in response.
Above her the Scotsman's breath quickened while from the corner of her eyes the smiling woman saw the steely fingers of his gauntlet squeeze ever so tightly against the armrests of his chair well aware of what he was powerless to stop.
Fingers wrapping around his veined shaft, her thumb curling underneath as she rubbed up and down it, she tilted her head. Her mouth parting open as she extended her tongue flicking it along the underside of her man's head. Running under the rim before descending along the underside of his thick length. Bending it upwards resting her face underneath as she nuzzled against it, her lips working their way downward. Planting a deep, wet kiss against the base her lips forming a soft, caressing suction against the salty taste of his leathery flesh.
Slender fingers of her hand sliding upwards to wrap around the bulbous, purple head. Giving it a rubbing squeeze, her thumb sliding up over the rim as she pressed it down against his oozing slit. Her nose tickled inhaling deeply the strong, masculine odor of his sex nestling above his wrinkly, dangling balls. Her lips purses sucking on the outer edge of one as she slowly enveloped it into her mouth. The flat of her tongue curling upwards roaming over the folds and grooves before letting it slide back out glistening with her saliva.
Granting the man a moment respite, but only a moment before he felt the sides of Ilsa's large, soft breasts squeeze and press against the inside of his thighs. Those jutting, hanging tits enveloping around the base of his cock. Creamy flesh swelling outward riding up along the shaft as her slender fingers spread across the outside of her soft pillows. Tweaking the hard bumps of her nipples as her fingers pressed mashing her wobbling wonders deeper and tighter around the throbbing, burning length of quivering man-flesh.
"Bet that stuck up cow would never do anything like this to you." Ilsa whispered oh so quietly her face hovering right in front of the purple, swollen head of Destro's cock.
The only part not totally submerged beneath the jiggling, rubbing mounds of her soft peaks. Her warm breath blowing tantalizing across the very tip sending blue jolts of pleasure shooting directly to the Scottish Lord's brain. Hearing his muscles creak as they tightened, fighting to keep from squirming from the assault on his senses occurring.
"Why I bet she'd turn her nose up at even the thought of doing something so "degrading" to her entitled ass-but not me through." Ilsa said with a wink." Unlike some girls, I know exactly what to do when a guy rubs one of these in my face."
Stifling a giggle at the memory of her half-sister's voice asking her just that question while shaking a rubber dildo under her nose. Not the best first meeting she could have hoped for but Ilsa, driven by determination to prove she was just as much a Faulkenhuassen as her sister, had been more than up to the challenge. And under the tutelage of her estranged sister she'd picked up innumerable tips and tricks in how to please a man's cock. All of which she gladly shared on her hero's dick before her.
"Just as well, isn't it…with her big, fake plastic tits…she'd never could wrap them so perfectly around your throbbing manhood, could she?" Ilsa moaned softly kneading her own breasts as she rubbed them up and down along his length.
Peering up past her silky, blonde hair as she swirled her tongue around the bulbous end of his twitching cock. Salty pre-cum tracking across it before she delved down in a delightful parody of a kiss. Long hair swishing, bobbing from side to side as her head pushed deeper down burying her face into her own wobbling cleavage. Her lips forming a perfect seal enveloping more and more of his rod as she took him into her mouth effortlessly. Muscles in her throat tightening, massaging that throbbing tool before she relented coming back up leaving a well lubricated cock for her bouncing boobs to play with. The wet head vanishing beneath the mushrooming, creamy tit-flesh which swelled over it.
On the screen the Baroness nodded her head agreeing with her silver-faced lover. Rolling her eyes from behind her sexy glasses.
"You don't know the half of it. The poor thing suffers from a rare…hereditary condition. And her daughters…dreadful urchins. Always dressing as if for a death metal album. And so frail of constitution they're forbidden from even stopping outside their hothouse of a manor. Like they're rare tropical plants or something."
The firm, round jutting melons of her cleavage, each round half swelling out along the edge of her tightly buttoned suit suit's jacket, hypnotically waggling as she let out of coy laugh. Stiff, fake tits rubbing side to side against the restraining fabric.
Suddenly through, the Baroness's expression changed staring quizzically down past her glasses as Destro gripped the edges of his chair so tight the metal of his gauntlets clinked. Those emerald green eyes half vanishing inside the dark recesses of his stoic mask. Forever thankfully for its unreadable visage as he felt a crimson tinge blossom against his face.
"Are you okay, Destro? You look almost pained…" He distantly heard the Baroness ask, a slight sharp edge to her voice." Or distracted."
Below, Ilsa stifled another giggle as she let the soft mounds of her breasts spill apart from the head of his cock. Revealing a purple tip she began to lick like an ice cream cone. Her skillful pink muscle curling around and running over the surface of his head. Her tongue swirling around as it passed over his slit oozing with precum.
"No-I was just…errrr…worried over your safety my beloved." The Scottish lord managed to gasp holding back the deep rumbling moan in his chest." So wish you'd….hmmmmph…you'd accepted my offer-ah-offer to take a battle android trooper."
Gritting his teeth on that last part as his hips bucked pushing upwards into Ilsa's warm, inviting mouth. Feeling those velvet lips of hers sliding back down over his swollen head as her tongue played across his salty skin. Her hand cupping his tightening balls in a playful squeeze, tip of her thumb tracing along the wrinkled contours of one.
"Awww, so touching knowing you are thinking of my wellbeing my beloved. But a B.A.T., darling? I could never disguise that from Dimitrescu." Baroness chuckled as the clasped button of her jacket stretched out just that bit more.
Ample, creamy boob-flesh bulging outward above and beneath the defiant, struggling button as her tits shook from the ripple of laughter.
"Not to mention how beastly stupid those cantankerous old things can be. I mean darling, I honestly think they have less memory than a Commodore computer. No I need living, well-bodied men who can think and adapt to changing circumstances." She insisted the front of her jacket pressed apart by her escaping firm knockers.
"B-But the Diamond Sharks are-hmmmmph-are unpredictable mercenaries-gah!-w-w-worse than that sniveling Zartan ever was. They care only about the-kiyaaah-about the gold they are paid in…" The man said as his body shuddered.
Feeling as if his entire being was being sucked up through his throbbing dick being teased, caressed and frankly devoured by the blessedly talented Isla. The blonde's heads bobbing, her long blond hair pooling down over her shoulders, rotating her mouth over his bulbous tip. Her tongue prancing across one trembling vein as she was finally rewarded for all her hard effort.
A girlish moan seeping from her tightly clamped lips as the first of the thick, ropy strands of cum shoot upwards splashing against the back of her throat. Greedily gulping it down as her tongue lapped up from the quivering tool spurting sticky strand after sticky strand over her wet, willing pink muscle. Ensuring not a drip slipped from between her sucking lips.
On the screen, idly flicking a painted fingernail over her straining button, the Baroness raised an eyebrow at her lover's discomfort. The corners of her mouth pursed in a calculating expression.
"Sharks are always treacherous, my darling Destro. Just like snakes. Through you needn't worry, several of their ranks are former troopers of ours. And you know, my beloved, how I always had a way of stiffening a trooper's…resolve." She chuckled." But honestly Destro, you don't sound well…perhaps you should have a lie down?"
Her eyes narrowed from behind her glasses as they flicked across to the bottle of wine and the two glasses.
"Preferably alone…because if I find just one blonde hair from a certain illegitimate brat of a Faulkenhuassen who-"The Baroness stuck out her chest causing the jacket button to burst apart, her large fake hooters spilling out of her scarlet top underneath"-who has small, flabby little tits I might add…if I find just one hair from her Destro darling on my pillow than that blonde slut will be cleaning latrines for the rest of her miserable life."
Ilsa scowling up from between Destro's legs, rubbing her hand across her red lips, as she watched the screen cut to black as the raven-haired woman cut the transmission.
"Bitch!" She said standing up as she slide up onto Destro's lap, wrapping an arm around her lover's neck." She should be honored there's someone willing to pick up her frigid ass's slack and treat her man like the king he is. I'm ten times as fun as that boring old bitch, aren't I Destro? Aren't I?"
Destro said nothing instead deeply wondering how a simple plot to steal and clone a giant ape had somehow become so complicated.
Kurosawa hot springs, Japan
"Now what's gotten your attention, luv?" Lara asked stepping out from the shower.
Brown hair untied from its braid falling across her shoulders in a damp frond. Edge of her arm pressing against and raising one jutting, bullet-shaped breast as she lightly dabbed and rubbed a towel against her strands of soaked, chestnut hair.
Having retreated with Anastasia to their resort rooms after their invigorating bath. Not at all surprised to see the ravishing, raven-haired woman waiting for her. After all she might have given the woman a little hint with that parting kiss…or slipping her room key down into those spectacular, round knockers of hers. Feeling their warmth envelop her slender, feminine fingers as she pushed the key down burying it inside that snug, firm cleavage.
No what surprised her, strutting with her still damp body glistening with a faint sheen of wetness, was not enjoying her guest's full attention. Finding Anastasia seated on the far edge of the bed. The raven-haired beauty's back to her attention on something hidden on her lap.
Moving the towel further down to dab a little soaking up the beads of water still clinging to her marvelous, jutting torpedo tits Lara made her way around the bed to join her. Pushing up from underneath each of her breasts in turn causing it to rise and shift from the pressure before falling back down into place as she finished drying herself. Gracefully depositing the towel into the seat of a velvet chair.
Hoping the folded layers helped muffled the heavy weight of the Heckler & Koch 9mm pistol hidden within it. Just in case it had turned out not to be the busty woman Lara had heard entering her room during her shower.
Through frankly she'd must preferred some Illuminati assassin still pissed off about the Triangle of Light than what she found. Which was being ignored.
"If you're looking for my Walther PPK, it's in the pillowcase." The British noble teased with a laugh as she reached a hand pretending to brush a wet strand of hair from her face." But whether I sleep on the right or the left side…well I suppose you'll just have to wait and see."
In reality using the motion to squeeze her arms inward against her firm, jutting breasts causing them to squeeze together enveloping outward between them in a most eye-catching display.
Anastasia, admiring the view, turning to face Lara with an amused expression as she held up a familiar garment from between her hands. The stiff, old fashioned bra the Tomb Raider had laid out as part of her outfit for the evening. And not just any bra either but a spectacular 50' style bullet bra. The empty cups angling to a point nearly sharp enough to poke an eye.
"Oh, nothing so crude. A woman is entitled to keep her secrets and that's includes where she hides her handguns." Anastasia said with a beckoning smile.
Her fingers cradling the stiff, conical cups of the bra, almost caressing it, as her eyes briefly exchanged a glance towards Lara's gun hidden beneath the folded towel. Further proof, if the Tomb Raider needed it, that there was far more to Ms. Decobray than she let on.
The busty, brown-haired woman having already contacted Zip to do a little electronic snooping on her behalf and arranged for him to fax her what he found. She imagined it would prove fascinating reading in the morning.
"But not what kind of lingerie she wears, Hmmm?" The archeologist, and sometimes thief, asked with amusement.
Sitting down on the bed beside Anastasia she turned to take the bra away from the other woman only to misjudge the distance between them. Edge of her fabulous bullet tits sweeping it from the raven-haired woman's hands who looked surprised and marveled to see the pointy bra dangling loosely from one of Lara's jutting breasts.
The brunette feeling a rosy bloom creep into her face as she looked down at the stiff fabric teetering from the firm edge of her torpedo tit. Bosom slowly rising and falling with her breathing dragging her pink bud of a nipple across the inner lip of the material.
"Why does things like this keep happening?" Lara said reaching to pull her bra off of her.
Having to bite her lower lips as the fabric pulled down across the front of her bullet-shaped breast. Her boob briefly moving with it before sliding free springing back up with a small wobbly bounce.
Her companion certainly could suggest one, really two, big reasons as to why through the raven-haired woman was smart enough to keep her own council. Instead merely chuckling softly as she watched Lara's boob undulation cease.
"I'm sorry, truly didn't mean to pry. But I couldn't help but be intrigued by your choice." Anastasia said peering down past her silky, black bangs to the crumpled bra discarded between them." It does suit you well. Outwardly so restrained, so conservative yet with this deep carnality beating just beneath the surface. I most delicious decision, I must say."
Rewarded as the pinkish-red bloom of Lara's cheeks turned even brighter matching the baby pink of her small, perfectly sculpted nipples which topped each creamy torpedo tit like a cherry on the world's most tempting double scoop sundae.
Besides merely enjoying how cute the Tomb Raider looked while blushing, the Cobra operative had more ulterior motives. As she always did. Rather clinically making a note in her mind how well Lady Croft could be affected and controlled by flattery. Observing how whatever annoyance the brunette might have tried to keep hidden from Anastasia melted away.
"That? It's just-just an old memento." Lara laughed softly, and act which caused her jutting, firm breasts to wobble once more, deeply wishing she'd selected any of her more exquisite bras." A keepsake really-hehe…on one of my first digs one of my neckbeard colleges left that for me to find in my tent after the day's dig. His way of telling me a "woman's place", I suppose."
She paused for a moment feeling the other woman's hands against her silky thigh. Fingers sliding across her smooth skin giving it a small reassuring squeeze as Anastasia smiled at her encouraging.
"Weak men can be intimidated by superior women." She offered." I know when I first joined-er, that is my early years weren't far different from yours. I had to prove myself. As their equal and, perhaps to myself, of my own femininity. That I didn't have to sacrifice it, didn't have to become a "Man" to beat them at their own game."
As she talked her handed continued to move up along Lara's leg. Sliding along the inside with that maddeningly soft yet oh so precise touch of hers.
"Hmmmph…that's it exactly." Lara nodded, her breath quickening a little." I think that's what drove me to wear that bra-meant to insult me-with pride on the next day dig. Which just so happened to be day I unearthed my first and perhaps greatest find singlehandedly. Forcing those neckbeards to stand and gape as I was photographed unveiling the tomb and its contents."
Her own hand cradling her companion's side. Slowly moving up along Anastasia's waist towards the firm swell of her specular large, round knockers. Her fingers cupping the edge of one, sliding a tip to gently poke and prod the straining button tightly clasped holding her milky cleavage within.
"The Great Vault of Ramses." The dark-haired woman answered with a nod." I remember those photos, how the world was entranced with this stunning heiress with eye-catching, pointy tits transposed against this backdrop of dusty antiquity."
Letting out a sensual moan as Lara's fingers undid the straining button. Her tits swelling outward, fabric peeling apart sliding as it exposed her sheer ebony and scarlet bra underneath. Netting like fabric clinging to each shapely round breast. Her own reddish nipples poking through from underneath almost trembling as she felt Lara's fingertips brush against the hard, sensitive bud.
"But of course that wasn't your first discovery, was it?" Anastasia questioned with a sly raise of her eyebrow." That would have been the Chachapoyan Idol, wouldn't it? What was it, sixteen years ago now?"
The busty brunette quite for a moment as she momentarily transported back in time to that treacherous, trap filled sepulcher. When she was younger, tad more reckless and far less stacked than she was now.
She'd been impressed with Anastasia before, still intending to have a very long and frank discussion with her surgeon to find out precisely how the busty woman had wheedled such sensitive material from his lips. Through glancing over at the raven-haired woman's large, voluminous chest gave her two very large clues.
After she didn't say anything for a long moment the other woman chuckled to herself. Anastasia's fingers thrumming inward across Lara's sex. Tracing the edge of the nail along her silky lips.
"Judging from that look on your face, it seems your old professor suspicions weren't for off after all." Anastasia teased her lover." He was so distraught to uncover an already spoiled tomb, its trap set off and its prize long since robbed. I suppose that was the most expensive blowjob of his life."
Leaning in close, her giant bra clad tits pressing against Lara's bullet breasts, to whisper in the brunette's ear. Tongue lightly tracing the outer edge as her finger pressed inward sliding in and out of Lara's eager, willing sex.
"Hmmmm….Professor Jones?" Lara said half moaning a name she hadn't thought about since her days at Marshall college." Just as well, he'd only have put it in a museum. He was really was stuffy like that."
Despite the stimulation she was receiving she couldn't help let out a forlorn sigh as she remembered what attending his classes were like.
"Honestly if I had to endure one more lecture of his on how Archelogy was the search for fact, not truth, I think I might have screamed." Lara replied bucking her hips a little pressing upwards against her lover's fondling hand.
Her own digits cupping the dark-haired woman's marvelous, massive melon. Squeezing her firm skin and slowly wiggling her red and black bra downward exposing her large, heavy tit to the naked, caressing air.
"Only reason I even considered doing that, besides getting access to those notes of his, was I kind of had a thing for Han Solo after Episode IV and, Jones kind of reminded me of him a little. Silly reason to suck a man's cock, I know."
Now it's Lara's turn to lean forward pressing Anastasia backwards down across the bed as she straddled over her. Lara's hands holding and pulling the raven-haired woman's hands up over her head as she nestled her face down into the other's chest. Lightly kissing and sucking on each reddish nipple in turn. Feeling it stiffen underneath her skilled tongue and lips.
"So if you ever tell this story to anyone, just say I sucked him for the fertility idol okay? I have a reputation to think about." Lara said with a wink.
"Your secret is safe with me." The Baroness replied lifting and rubbing her mammoth, round melons up against the brunette's face.
Thinking back to her conversation with Destro and feeling a flush of pride at how firm and age-defying her noble-born lover's breasts were. Such a perfect reflection of the pair Lara was greedily suckling on. And how likely, when a certain blonde slut with cow-tits was as old as she and Lara were the blonde's would be nothing more than half-deflated hangers. Cruelly reflecting back on her own experience as she'd watched her full, D-cup breasts slowly ripen and blossom as she aged only to start to sink and droop. Like two water balloons with pinprick leaks going form firm, jutting cannonballs stretching out her skintight black uniform to sunken half-formed teardrops sloshing around in a too loose top. Becoming fearful to seductively peel her zipper halfway down on her jumpsuit for fear her deflated girls might just flop out for all to see.
Finally the mocking snicker of a Cobra trooper, whispered to a college after she'd strutted past in a particularly sexy slink, about how he could almost tie those "puppies" into a knot had forced the Baroness to swallow her pride. Using the cover of better filling one of her numerous undercover identies to seek out a surgeon. Originally just to restore herself to her original, firm majesty but the surgeon, a rather charismatic if breast-obsessed man, had talked her into "trading up" for a full DD. Little did she know that would be the start of her boob greed journey.
The dark-haired woman smiling as she pictured an older, through not wiser, Ilsa with the drooping tits of her past self. That thought, combined with her lover's ministrations, setting off a mini-orgasm through her body. The first of many which were to follow long into the night between the pair. And likely well into the morning before their arranged flight to take them to the island Kingdom of Macromastia.