Like a bullet from a gun, they lurched forward and shot out of the garage into the daylit streets. The wind whipped and pulled at their hair and clothes threatening to rip them away. As well as providing them a cool breeze. They passed buildings swathed in a bounty of colors. And they saw as the buildings shifted from rigid works of concrete and iron to formless masses of blur and soft color. Each one, fading into the distance behind them. Minutes passed in this manner. Hiro's eyes strained against the wind to view the cloudy shapes of the city passing him. He could see why Gogo liked it.

It wasn't long until the bike began to slow and the soft surrounding blur sharpened and redefined shape. The ride in total was only about five minutes. And as the pair disembarked from the bike, Hiro looked up at the complex before him. He stood for a moment longer, taking in the surroundings as well as the rays of sunlight grew brighter.

Then he felt a hand grip his wrist. And a second later, he was being led into the building.

Gogo was far too sexually frustrated to let Hiro take in the sights. Sure, he was the only one in the group of friends who hadn't been to her apartment-Baymax had even been to her apartment before him-but that didn't matter. What mattered to her was pinning the young boy against a wall, lips against his, as they scrambled to remove each other's clothes. What followed after that would be up for later review. After several rounds, of course.

So, like a parent leading a wonderlost child, she pulled through the building. Straight forward. Pass the mailboxes on the left. Turn right, around the corner. Directly to the right is an elevator.

Out of Order.

"Are you kidding me?!" She cried out, a snarl in her voice.

Then she turned to Hiro. He looked lost. Or a bit dazed from the speed at which she was pulling him. And she took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out. Hold.

"Sorry, Hiro."

"It's okay," he sympathetically replied.

She huffed, glaring at the sign again. "My apartment's on the fifth floor. I hope you don't mind walking a bit."

His hand slipped into hers and entwined. A gentle squeeze reassuring her he wouldn't leave. And she felt her body relax. They had time and she knew it. There wasn't any reason to speed through things. So, softly pulling him to her side, she led the way to the staircase.

One by one. Step by step, Gogo and Hiro ascended the stairs. Floor two passed. They continued. Then floor three. Four. Then five. Through the door, they began down the sparse hall. Door after door passed and the end of the hall neared ever closer. And then, Gogo stopped. Door 513. Hiro waited as she opened the door and in the silence he swore he could hear both of their hearts beating. Rapid. Synchronous. The door swung open and she led him inside. And right as he began to take in the sight of her apartment, her lips crashed into his.

He fell back against the door. It slammed shut with a BANG! His eyes shot wide open, fearful for a moment of what was happening. But as her lips continued to move on his, he fluttered into the embrace. They fought for dominance, but the match was quick won. Gogo, having a bit more experience in this realm, utilized surprise to her advantage. Her hands rose and slammed into position on either side of his head. Hiro faltered, and she took the upper hand. Her lips danced upon his for several moments, exploring as if it was their first time. He held still, reciprocating as best he could. But then her lips parted from his and began a trail across his cheek towards his neck. He squirmed, which only served to earn a devilish smile followed by a chuckle.

She remained positioned at his neck for a short time. Just enough time to nibble, suck, and then commit. And when she pulled back with a suction pop, the skin was irritated. Red. She had decidedly marked him.

Quick after leaving a hickey on his neck, she began to let herself drop lower. Kisses against his clothed chest. Her hands had dropped to his waist and began to drive upwards. His shirt bunched up as more of his thin, pale torso was exposed. Eventually, she pulled it off him. And with a fierce, hungry look in her eyes, her lips attacked his naked chest. Then began to move lower. And lower. Across the stomach. Around the belly button. Lower.

Stop.

She halted as her journey was interrupted by the waistband of tan cargo shorts. His eyes met hers. And like prey looking into the eyes of its predator moments before the kill, Hiro saw her gaze. In an instant-and a sudden yank-the cargo shorts clattered to the ground, revealing his straining erection beneath his boxers. With another tug, it popped free and lightly smacked Gogo in the face. To which she simply giggled before letting her tongue out and drawing it along the underside of the shaft. His hips bucked at the warmth, seeking more. But she simply smiles and backs away.

Teasing. Taunting.

Her tongue pressed against the length again earning a desperate grunt from Hiro. Though she never let the pleasure remain long. Nor did she draw him any further towards that peak. He was kept exactly where she wanted. Desperate. Pleading. Helpless. Eventually her soft lips would press against the tip or along the shaft. Kissing it. She would interchange between methods. A kiss here. A long lick there. Two more kisses here and there. Another flick of the tongue. And before long, she began to take it wholly into her mouth. The tip of her tongue dancing and gliding across. His guttural moans, breathy and wanting, spurred her further. More and more she took inside, inch by inch. And with the hilting movement, throat distended slightly, her eyes watered and she hummed in place. She refused to move for the seconds that passed, saliva bubbling up and spilling down her chin. But as her chest heaved, and her throat clenched in a cry of desperation, she clamped her eyes shut and began to pull off.

Like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, Hiro's cock appeared and parted her lips, glistening and glittering in the lights. Upon reaching the tip, Gogo opens her eyes and flicks her tongue again. Though as she pulls off, she feels the twitch. And the slight swell. It hadn't been her intention, but she knew what she had done. What was coming.

Exposed to the air, free of the buzzing wet warmth, Hiro peaked. His hips bucked softly and with eyes screwed shut, the first rope fired. It shot out quick and far, like a bullet from a gun. Only to land and make its mark in the inky darkness of Gogo's hair. The sudden feeling of her hair becoming damp and sticky with the seed that had impregnated her, Gogo looked up and glared. And then the second rope came. It landed over her eye, half caught in the lashes and the other half on her eyebrow. Then the third. And fourth. And several more after. When Hiro had finally calmed down, no longer shooting his spend, Gogo's face was plastered with the warmth of sticky milky white. Her hair had caught several drops, black, white, and purple. As had her eyes, forcing her to have to keep them mostly shut. And as Hiro, breath heavy, looked upon her coated face, he felt a deep pleasure within him. A kink he never knew he had, now came to fruition and made itself apparent.

He wished he could do it again. Cover her skin to the point where she was mostly cloudy white, marked by his seed. But Gogo had other ideas. While she did keep her face coated in his mark, he opened her eyes as best she could before taking his hand. And with a tug, she led him away from the door, across the room and up the stairs. To her bed in the loft. Though he knew what was going to occur, he was caught unaware by a slightly demanding and harsh shove as she pushed him down onto the plush, queen-size bed. His knees buckled beneath him and he fell, back falling into the dark purple sheets. He glanced up to her and saw as she moved. With a speed that seemed to rival when she donned her super suit, her clothes were shed. First was the jacket she had stolen from Hiro-her leather one given and worn on occasion by the young boy. Then was her shorts and leggings, taken in pair. Followed by her shirt, leaving her stark naked beyond the seed covering her face.

With a sultry, deviant saunter, Gogo closed the distance between herself and Hiro. Hiro didn't even have a chance to remove the rest of his clothes before her weight came down, lightly, upon him.

"I think we've had enough foreplay," she stated.

And then she let herself slide down onto his erection, taking it all in one smooth motion. Of course, as she hilted at the base, her back arched. And she moaned.

"Good boy," she huffed as she lifted up. Then dropped down again.

Up. Then down. Up. Then down. In and out, Hiro felt the stark difference between the cool air and the heat of her body. It was intense. As well as the best thing he had ever felt and could possibly hope to feel. Then, of all the thoughts that popped into his head, he realized that she would be his-married together-for the rest of their lives. Unless they got divorced, which he didn't see happening. But his mind lurched as his body surged, threatening to peak again, weak after having lost it to her mouth. He opened his mouth to say something. To warn her about what was coming. But it was too late. One more meeting of their hips and he would be done, spent.

And then she stopped. With a devilish, knowing smirk, she slid off of him.

"How about this: no cumming until I say so and you get a reward? Cum before then and you'll be punished." Her words were like morphine to an addict. He shouldn't want it because he knew the risks and the game he was playing. But he did. Oh, how he did.

He nodded his head.

"Good," she smiled, "Now I want you to fuck me."

Before he could ask, she crawled over top of him. His head passed just centimeters away from her dripping sex between her legs. Then she fell upon the bed on her back as her legs spread open. An invitation. One that he readily accepted. He shucked off his remaining clothes before crawling up to her. His throat clenched as he positioned himself between her legs. And with practiced ease, he maneuvered the tip of his cock to her entrance. Its slick warmth was a siren. Much like many a sailor in the tales, Hiro fell for the lull. And he slipped into her embrace.

Hips moving with an experience and grace to pleasure her that only he could master, the room filled with the sounds of passion. Of desire. Of love. He didn't move fast, nor did he move slow. The pace was a moderated medium, careful and delicate. And though he mostly did so to ensure he didn't cum before she desired, it did have an added benefit. Each thrust, each push and pull of primitive instinct, helped him to learn her points of pleasure. And every time he slid back in, angling ever so slightly in a different direction than last, her voice cried out. As well as causing her to slicken even further. But it wasn't the end of his lessons over her body. Instead, after he had, hopefully, found all her pleasure points within, he began a different method.

Inwards, he'd thrust, feeling her faintest quiver. But as he pulled out-keeping to his taunting pace-he let his right hand move from his arching position. And with the hand, he lightly pressed it against her sex. Fingers rubbing gently as they coated in foggy fluid. Gogo whined and clenched her fists. Her mind raced and her body buzzed from the pleasure. All the while, Hiro continued moving. Having been prolonging his climax-wanting and needing to release for several minutes now-he planned to make her peak first. He was confident that if she did, he would finally be given the reprieve he sought. With finger and thumb, he found her clit and pinched softly.

"H-Hiro!" Gogo whined.

Breathy and verging on her peak, now she was the one who was pleading. She was the one who was helpless. And like putty in his hand, she was the one who was desperate. But he wanted to see her come undone. To see her unravel at his touch. So, using the pad of his thumb, he pressed it against her clit. Then, keeping the soft pressure, he flicked the thumb off. Oh how she clenched and moaned, dampening at the small action.

Flick.

Her breathing was so heavy now. She was nearing.

Flick.

Her body trembled at the touch. It begged for release.

Flick.

Her voice cried out to the heavens, yet he wanted her to cry out to him. To beg. To pray to him in wordless atonement and receive what she desired.

Flick.

So close now. From the way she screwed her eyes shut and turned her cum-covered face away from him, he could tell. She had stature to keep. And he wanted to break it away. Show her that, if only with him, she could let go. Let him take control. That she could be soft, childish, and open.

So he arched over her and leaned down. And he pressed his lips to her neck. Each kiss was tender, passionate, and caring. With each one, she mumbled his name like a mantra, rhythmic and synchronous with each slow thrust he kept in pace. Though when he opened his mouth and bit softly upon the smooth flesh, sucking and caressing with his tongue, she began to spasm. She clenched tighter than before. And with a harmonious wail echoing his name, he felt her nectar spread and gush as she finally peaked.

But he never stopped moving. No matter how much it pained him. No matter how much it tested his stamina like nothing had before, he refused to lose. So he waited. Each thrust and pull taunted him, beckoning him to let loose. Eventually, it began to hurt. Not much, but enough to be noticeable and make a difference with each movement. And yet, throughout the entire time, Gogo's mind was lost in cloud nine as her body experienced another climax at some point in the midst of his actions.

"Gogo," he whispered, head heavy near her neck where the hickey he gave her started to become clearer, "Please."

She whimpered a moan as he thrust again, adamant to keep pace and never lose it until he was finally free of the rules. She turned her head to him. Her eyes were half-lidded and coated, evident she would likely fall into unconsciousness as soon as they stopped. But, in the fragment of lucidity she had, she opened her mouth to speak.

Then she nodded. A silent permission to finally extract himself from the stipulation she had set. But also one that acknowledged his victory. And with it, he sped up his thrusts. Once, they were synchronous and paced. But now they were sporadic and carnal. Only serving to reach the goal he sought: to cum. Within a matter of thrusts, he hilted and relinquished himself fully into her.

When all was said and done, he slipped from her soaking warmth and fell next to her upon the plush bed. He pulled her close, spooning her, as he whispered softly.

"I doubt we'll be able to complete my reward tonight, so I'll just redeem it later," he said.

She didn't respond, unconscious as he'd expected. And with a kiss to the back of her neck, he let himself drift off as well.