Reach and Flexibility
“I remember right before one mission--we were about to hit a Batarian pirate squad. Very risky. This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats. Nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring.”
Commander Shepard folded her arms and cracked a half-smile. “I assume you took her down gently.”
Garrus stopped pacing and stared off into the distance as he realized exactly what kind of story he’d just made the mistake of telling. Taken her down gently, indeed.
“Actually, she and I were the top ranked hand to hand specialists on the ship. Or...”
Garrus paused and drummed his fingers against his leg a few times. Behind him, the Normandy’s guns (perfectly calibrated, naturally) lay silent, leaving only the thrum of the engines.
“I guess I should say we were the top ranked close combat specialists. Anyway, it was brutal...”
~~~~~
A punch met Garrus Vakarian’s left cheekbone with a sharp crack, jarring his view of the training room out of alignment. When the buzz in his ears died down, Garrus heard the stomping and whistling from the onlookers.
Nice of you guys, Garrus thought, clenching his jaw and exhaling a low growl. Been dying to watch her beat me up, huh?
His growl turned into a vocal “Rrrgh!” as he took a wide cross to the right temple that knocked him to his heels. Garrus dropped his weight and tightened his stance in preparation for the coming grapple and throw, which didn’t come, leaving him crunched into a defensive curl with nothing to defend against.
He raised his gaze to meet his opponent’s eyes, getting a good look at her shit-eating smirk in the process. She hadn’t even tried to finish what she’d started, because she wanted another chance to show off. Garrus realized that he was very angry, same as every time he’d been forced to look at that smirk.
He stepped forward with hands raised, breath steady, head lowered, feet light, ready to move or strike. You wild, dumb, cocky liability, I’m going to--He cracked his neck, bent both knees, and lunged.
She dropped low with impossible speed, spitting a triumphant “Ha!” as his arms scissored through the air above her head with a low whiff. Then she shifted her stance and rattled the dermal plates on Garrus’s midsection with a rising gut-punch that sent a shockwave into his gut and up through his throat.
Garrus forced air back into his lungs just in time to raise his arms and swat the second hit away. A near miss from the third shot whiffed past the right side of his head as he weaved left. A fourth skimmed his face when he backpedaled to open the distance by a few feet. He raised his hands into a staggered guard, ready to block and counter, but his opponent kept her distance again. When Garrus’s vision cleared, he saw the blue-clad brat trotting part of a victory lap past her stomping, whooping fans.
Reckless, glory-seeking... I’m gonna show you how much of a mistake--
The brat turned her head and gave a sidelong wink.
Garrus had enough time for half of a deep breath before she flew into a full-on charge. Garrus bent his knees, opened his hands in a grappling stance, got ready to clamp down for a reversal--
Cerulean fur whipped past Garrus’s face. “Sucker!” whooped a scratchy voice above his head.
The world flashed white as something with roughly the force of a fourth tier biotic charge hit the back of Garrus’s head. Garrus toppled forward onto the mat, breaking his fall with his palms, then his elbows, then his face.
“Knockdown! Three points!” snapped a distant voice, barely audible over the cheering crowd and the ringing in Garrus’s ears. “Round seven goes to Rainbow Dash! Score is now six points against five!”
Rainbow Dash flipped a full somersault in the air before landing with head raised and wings spread. No four-legged animal, Garrus thought, had any right to the kind of flexibility that the Equestrian Little Pony species could pull out.
Garrus wanted to spring straight back to his feet, but instead he decided to wait for his brain to stop sloshing against the sides of his skull. Rainbow Dash had clocked him, dropping him to the mat without having to touch him on the way down. Win by knockdown. Three points. Enough to win a match in the first round, or in this case, enough to turn a near loss for Dash into a narrow lead.
“Round eight starts in twenty seconds!”
Three points for a clean drop, like Garrus had just been handed. Two for lifting the opponent and planting them on their back--which hardly seemed fair, given the difference in body types. On the bright side, Little Ponies were easier to pin than Turians, though a pin instead of a clean drop was only worth one.
With his face to the ground, Garrus could smell fresh sweat--mammal sweat, not dextro. Salty, and faintly musty. Garrus could tell from the way the plastic surface gripped his arms and forehead that the residue was making the mat slightly sticky. Mammals, Garrus decided, were disgusting.
“Fifteen!”
Three or four rounds was average for a fight. Seven rounds was a long, hard-fought slugfest. Nine rounds--which this match was going to be, because Garrus needed that many rounds in order to win--was ridiculous.
Garrus pounded one fist against the padded floor, then dropped his other fist and propelled himself to his feet. The training room was roughly the size of a pitfighting ring, with roughly the same purpose, and now the crowd was starting to make it sound like one. Turian dermals rapped together in applause while pony hooves pounded the mat.
“Ten!”
Garrus bent his knees. Raised his hands. Took his staggered stance. Like hell he was going to let a Little Pony best him in the ring. Across from him, Rainbow reared up for a similar stance--forehooves raised and cycling, hind legs staggered.
Which was nothing but another taunt, of course. Rainbow’s multicolored mates laughed and whistled at the awkward mockery of a bipedal fighting style.
“Three!”
Garrus closed his eyes. Adrenaline and emotion were distracting him, so he shut them down. Back to basics. Not just fighting basics. Basics.
“Two!”
He had his advantages. They’d earned him that two point lead. He’d lost that two point lead by not using those advantages to their utmost.
“One!”
Garrus kept his eyes shut for just two heartbeats longer than was wise. His advantages--
“Begin!”
Garrus opened his eyes. Rainbow Dash was in midair, half an instant away from landing on his gut with both forehooves.
She didn’t. Instead, she landed on the blade of Garrus’s foot with her face. The audience on both sides of the ring exploded as Rainbow Dash reeled. If the room had been filled with noise before, now it was overflowing violently, flooded from floor to ceiling with the roar of the crowd.
Garrus knew that his next move was going to make him look like a bragging little winged pony, not like a fire-hardened Turian soldier. It felt bad. But it was going to work.
“You like that? Come get another!” Garrus bellowed. He could barely even hear himself over the crowd, but Rainbow Dash got the message loud and clear when he stood up straight and raised his arms to the crowd, even turning partially away.
Rainbow Dash braced against the ground, opened her wings, then cried out in surprise as her head was snapped to the side by the top of a Turian foot.
Garrus planted his foot back on the ground and let out a long breath. Reach and focus in concert. Feet and timing combining into an impenetrable perimeter. Rainbow Dash lacked all four of those things. It took an act of will to resist the urge to press the advantage and charge Rainbow Dash down while she was staggered. It took an even greater act of will to play the braggart again, but if Garrus had one thing in spades, it was will.
The crowd quieted for just long enough for Garrus to raise his arms in a “come and get it” stance from which to deliver the next blow.
“You’re pretty fast! Too bad you aren’t so bright!”
Some of the Turians were booing, but the pony half of the crowd was laughing and whooping even more loudly, to make up for them. Fast flyer, slow learner, Garrus thought as he saw the outrage on Rainbow Dash’s face. Noticed that I’ve got limbs as long as your whole body yet?
Rainbow Dash launched herself off the ground in a flash of prismatic light, but she didn’t stay airborne for long--as soon as she was three feet away from his midsection, Garrus leapt and kicked his legs out behind him. One of his hands landed on top of Rainbow Dash’s head, the other closed on her extended foreleg, and then Garrus stiffened in the air to piledrive her chin-first into the mat. Pegasus and Turian landed with a single thud, and Garrus had already shifted his stiff-arm into a headlock by the time the crowd could cheer in response.
With a bone-plated half nelson around Rainbow Dash’s oversized neck, it was all too easy to force her onto her side. Pinning her there was even easier, as her legs--legs built for driving forward momentum and fit for little else--flailed sideways at the mat.
“Submission! One point! Round eight goes to Garrus Vakarian!”
Garrus pounded the mat with his free hand and allowed himself a “Yes!” before releasing his choke hold and getting to his feet.
Even score. Just Turian against Equestrian again, on even ground, as if the match was starting over entirely--as if Garrus was being given another chance to swat Dash straight out of the air for three points and a win.
“Score is now tied at six points against six!” the referee yelled.
“Nothing personal,” Garrus said, extending a hand to the pile of pony at his feet.
“Whatever,” Rainbow Dash grumbled, rolling to all fours and swatting away Garrus’s hand.
Garrus realized, upon reflection, that extending a hand to help a pony to her hooves didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
“Round nine starts in twenty seconds!”
Garrus raised his fists back into the same boxing stance as before. This time, Rainbow Dash kept all four hooves planted on the mat.
“Fifteen!”
Focus mixed with adrenaline mixed with pure, animal desire to clash, dominate, and win, the parts of a trained and tested Turian fighting machine clicking into place once more--
“Ten!”
Rainbow Dash stretched her wings, then snapped them shut. “Don’t get your hopes up just because you got lucky a few times!” she shouted over the din. Garrus didn’t reply.
“Three!”
Rainbow Dash’s low stance and spread wings were more threatening than Garrus cared to admit. The little blue pegasus pony looked like a cocked and loaded crossbow.
“Two! One! Begin!”
Rainbow Dash’s body blurred through the air with impossible speed. Garrus caught her again, leaning sharply into the hit and dropping his weight onto her as before, but this time Dash slipped Garrus’s grasp and barrelled into his midsection.
The mat vibrated as four hooves caught the weight of two fighters. Garrus felt something sweep his left leg--damn it, quadrupeds were not supposed to be able to do that--and then he was airborne, lifted into a twisting throw by a rising pegasus body.
Hell no!
Garrus scissored his legs shut around Rainbow Dash’s body, then twisted toward the mat in order to land with his hands. He tried to drag Rainbow Dash went down with him, but she slipped through his legs before he could pull her into a proper vicegrip. When he hit the padded floor, he already had a pegasus his back, working the top position with her signature speed.
Two hooves and a head attacked Garrus at his shoulders, underarms, neck, everywhere, searching for a weakness that could be used to lift Garrus off of his stomach and into a pin. Garrus yielded no such opening, dropping lower to the mat and clenching his elbows to his sides in order to deny Dash her chance at a half-nelson grip.
Garrus pulled his knees under his body and tried to stand. Rainbow Dash’s rear legs rose off the mat and into the air as she flapped her wings, propelling her downward and piledriving Garrus back to all fours.
“Sit down,” a voice seethed into Garrus’s ear.
But the pressure on his back was lessening. Rainbow Dash didn’t weigh anywhere near enough to pin a Turian, so she had to use her wings to press down, and her strength was failing.
So when the top of Rainbow Dash’s head went at his side again Garrus went ahead and yielded the opening. Immediately, a furred limb hooked his underarm, and the combined power of pegasus muscles and pegasus flight biotics fought to twist him onto his back, but with a powerful lurch, Garrus was on his feet, and then leverage was on his side, he clamped down, and locked his fist to his hip, pulling a slab of Dash into a headlock--he’d managed to trap her head and one of her legs against his body.
Wings blurred in front of Garrus’s face with the desperate power of a stunt flyer in a tailspin as Rainbow fought back, sending his heels skidding in zigzags across the sweat-slicked plastic underfoot. Garrus spread his stance, bracing himself against every attempt to cheat his balance, and then he raised his free arm by the elbow as if preparing to slam her in the ribs--
Her body was surprisingly soft for such a trained athlete, and even with his bone-shielded skin Garrus could feel her warmth, the condensation of her sweat, the dance of muscles in violent motion, when he squeezed her body to his with both hands, trapping her wings between his chest and her back. Laid against her in a martial embrace, he heard her breathing through his ear-slit against her back, and he braced his legs, ready to see how much she could take when it came to supporting weight with those magic wings...
“HALT!”
It wasn’t the referee’s voice; it was lower and harsher, and it didn’t have a Turian warble to it. Equestrian and Turian alike fell silent and stepped aside as Captain Spitfire, aviators and all, marched in.
Garrus halted. He released his deathgrip, pushing off from Rainbow Dash’s back with a light shove, and found his feet, barely. He nearly staggered--no, there it was; he staggered quite a bit--from the combined stress of adrenaline and exhaustion, making his muscles burn with the effort of supporting his bones and making him dizzy with lingering traces of killer instinct.
Then he lost his feet as a cerulean thunderbolt slammed his gut, knocking him six inches off of the ground and three feet though the air. The adrenaline instantly drained from his system when he bounced off of the mat and skidded to a halt flat on his back, leaving him with exhaustion instead of adrenaline, and limbs made of plasteel instead of fire.
A single pony’s worth of weight, not even driven by wings, landed on Garrus’s chest, and a pair of oversized fire-maroon eyes focused in on Garrus’s from only inches away.
Gritted white teeth framed by twitching blue-furred skin and muscle. And her breath--her breath smelled faintly of cut grass.
“I said halt, Rainbow Dash!” bellowed Captain Spitfire. “This match is over!”
Rainbow Dash rolled off of Garrus. She lay on her side next to him, unmoving except for her heaving chest.
The room emptied out. Garrus managed to spit the words “Good match” with the out-swing of a gasp.
“Lucky,” Rainbow Dash puffed back. “Was about to pin you.”
~~~~~
The hallway display blinked 30:03:34 in blocky red. Then the last two digits changed to 33, then 32, then 31. Three minutes and thirty seconds until they closed the fighting ring down, giving everyone on board thirty hours to rest and prepare for the real thing. Of course, the training room had been empty for hours; Captain Spitfire’s reaction to the marathon fight had turned most of the crew off from the idea of seizing their last opportunity to beat on each other.
Garrus understood the rule, of course. Thirty hours of recuperation was a lot, but not enough to work off the kind of injury that could result from body-slamming a pegasus who was too exhausted to even stay afloat. Being cheated of the chance to hand Rainbow Dash a proper defeat had been frustrating, but an injured Rainbow Dash would probably be a much worse liability than a healthy but arrogant one.
He straightened his overalls, then knocked on the door. It hissed open, and Garrus found himself looking down into Rainbow Dash’s glaring maroon-ringed eyes.
“Rainbow Dash. I was looking for you...”
She jumped and rose until she was staring Garrus down from above, no doubt pretending she was taller than him. “Yeah, and I was about to start looking for you. You owe me a tiebreaker, Vakarian. I’ll meet you in the ring.”
And just like that, there it was again: The anger, the need to put the brat in her place, the same anger that had led Garrus to throw rounds five and seven. Anger, and a kind of burning excitement at the chance for another crack at the little braggart.
“Your Captain told you to lay off the fighting, and the ring’s closing anyway. They teach you this kind of insubordination in the Equestrian navy?”
And there: The same flash behind Rainbow Dash’s eyes. Provoking Rainbow Dash to anger was more satisfying than Garrus wanted to admit. Even more satisfying was watching Rainbow Dash’s expression as it shifted from angry to helplessly frustrated.
“Fine!” Rainbow Dash spat. “We’ll do the rematch right here.” Before Garrus could protest, Rainbow Dash closed her teeth on the collar of his coveralls and dragged him into the room. The door hissed shut, and Rainbow Dash slapped the control panel with a rear hoof. The door slid shut, and the latch clicked into position.
She didn’t let go of Garrus’s collar. “Take th’ thing rrff,” she said through her gritted teeth.
Garrus pushed her away. “I’m not wearing anything underneath. Quit stalling and let’s do this.” He raised his hands and braced one foot against the door.
“Do I look like I care how much you’re wearing?” She reared up in the air and swept a hoof to indicate her chest and belly. “Take it off, Vakarian.”
“It’s different for--” He choked on his next word as Rainbow Dash hit him in the chest, bullrushing him into the door. His back hit the metal with a dull whack. Then the world blurred and spun, and he was thrown hard onto the bed. The bed didn’t bounce him back, because a pony body was pressing down on his chest with biotic force. He realized that he was still locked by both armpits into an embrace, and that the zipper on his coveralls had been pulled partway open, and that Rainbow’s teeth were nearly touching his ear-slot as she hissed her victory:
“Takedown. Two points. Round nine... Rainbow Dash.” She managed a dark, sultry tone despite her scratchy soprano. “Wanna lie down until it’s a pin too?”
This time, Garrus said it out loud. “Like hell!”
He squeezed her body to his by clamping her long, sinewy neck with both arms, then arched hard, forcing her up and into the air against the efforts of her still fatigued wings. Once he was bridged on his heels and his head, he kicked one leg into the air, and twisted...
Rainbow Dash gurgled and squirmed as she was sandwiched between the soft bed at her back and a bony Turian shoulder at her chest and throat. She was warm, and her desperate, panting breath was warm. And her thrashing still wasn’t at full power, either--she’d had a very rough day, as Garrus knew all too well.
Garrus turned his head to the side to seethe into a flappy, tucked-back ear.
“Submission. One point. Round ten for Garrus.”
He released her and rolled off of her, onto his back. Immediately, he felt a hoof slap against his chest.
“Doesn’t count,” she huffed. The little brat. She dropped from the bed, then rose into a hover. “Take it off, Vakarian. Can’t grapple if you’re wearing a second skin.”
Garrus took a long exhale--more a focusing breath than a sigh--and grabbed his zipper. “Fine! If I have to pin you in the nude...”
He pulled from collar to groin in one long sweep, and disrobed with a forceful shrug. The baggy suit fell and crumpled around his ankles, baring his weathered dextro-metal hide from frill to heel. “There. Is what you wanted to see?”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes were narrowed dangerously. She sniffed, then wrinkled her nose and cracked her neck. “Yeah, pretty much.”
She charged again, but this time, Garrus was ready for the assault--He twisted, lashed out with both arms, felt the vibration in his dermals as his palms impacted fur, flesh, bone. He clamped, lurched as he dragged that momentum into a 180 degree turn aimed at the bed...
Pony and Turian landed, one on top of the other, with a whumph.
“Takedown,” Garrus said.
Rainbow Dash’s belly faced the ceiling. He pressed his palms into where her forelegs met her shoulders. Her maroon eyes blazed ruby in the artificial light, and her chest rose and fell with battle-heated breath. Then, with a wild thrash, Rainbow Dash slipped from beneath Garrus’s palms, used one leg as a hook to grab Garrus by the shoulder, and surged through the air to rotate both armored Turian shoulders down onto the bed.
“Submission,” Dash said. “One point.”
Garrus arched on his head and feet in the familiar pin-escape maneuver. Rainbow Dash raised her body into the air and slammed him back down with a vertical dive.
“I said submission,” she snarled, flattening her body onto his. This time, it was Garrus sandwiched between a body and a bed.
There almost wasn’t a difference between one type of fire and the other, but when the switch happened, it happened. Maybe it was Rainbow Dash’s animal body heat seeping through his shell and onto his skin, or maybe it was the difference between being slammed onto a mat and being pressed onto a bed, or hell, maybe it was the slight chill of the air-conditioned room against his upturned groin. But it happened, and Garrus’ left eye twitched as he felt it happen. Apart from the brief twitch, though, Garrus kept on breathing, staring up into Rainbow’s eyes with the same fire, the same scowl, except that it wasn’t the same fire or the same scowl.
Rainbow Dash glared back. “What? You giving up alr--” She blinked, her eyes widened, she lifted off from Garrus’s body, and she twisted her head to look behind her at the source of what she’d just felt from Garrus’s lower half.
“I... whoa,” she sputtered. “Is that...”
A sliver of dull grey-pink was protruding from a slit in the plates on Garrus’s groin, the only exposed flesh on his Palaven-hardened body. It flared, then tapered at the end, and was a notch or two larger in proportion than most other species’ equivalent pieces, and then one step again past the Turian average. It was sheathed with loose leathery skin that unfurled as the shaft slowly extruded to its full length of nine inches, suspended at an angle nearly parallel to Garrus’s body.
Rainbow Dash bodyslammed back onto Garrus so abruptly that the bed bowed beneath them for a moment before bouncing back. “You... fucking... pervert!” she yelled, slamming both forehooves down onto Garrus’s shoulders with a light whack. Then she slipped her arms beneath his shoulders and clutched his forehead between both hooves--a tight but impractical reverse full nelson.
She only kept the angry glare for another moment before her mouth twisted into a sinister half-smile. “Guess I can’t blame you, though.”
She shifted, and wet heat slid across Garrus’s stretch of exposed skin, forcing out a tense shiver.
“The mares can’t resist me, so why should I expect different from a stallion?”
“Turian men aren’t called--” He stopped the sentence with a gulp as Dash rubbed back in the other direction, downward from head to base this time.
“Makes sense. Stallions are way bigger.”
Garrus’s scowl flipped back to hostile mode. He could smell and feel her breath again--sweat and chopped plants. “Oh, and I’m the pervert? Mine is just a body reaction, you’re the one who--”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Give it up and admit how turned on you are by my awesomeness.” She leaned back, tilted her head, and stared off into the distance with a thoughtful expression. “Though I gotta say, I think getting the opponent to roll over and beg should be worth at least two points.”
“That’s two points you’re not getting!”
The full-nelson deathgrip that Rainbow Dash had on Garrus did nothing to prevent him from simply rolling over onto her, turning her onto her back. He couldn’t pin her properly, but she seemed intent on pinning herself just fine, the way she kept on with that face-to-face hold.
Even though she’d just taken a reversal, Rainbow Dash looked more like she’d just won a prize. “That’s what I thought. You want it, Vakarian.”
Garrus spat the accusation right back. “You’re the one who wants it.” He wrapped both arms around her back in an underhanded grip and squeezed their bodies together. Her business end--pleasure end?--was inches from Garrus’s exposed flesh, which was now feeling a little chilly what with the fluid still clinging to it. More importantly, Garrus was driving his opponent’s back firmly into the bed; his grip was rock solid and Rainbow Dash wasn’t going anywhere.
“Hrngh!” Rainbow Dash said. She’d probably meant to make a derisive snort, but she was having trouble getting it out while being squeezed. “Don’t want it if... if you aren’t a stallion.”
The fire again, ignited by that smirk, but also by Rainbow Dash’s body, a soft, breathing mammal body that expanded against Garrus’s crushing hold with each huffing breath. The anger, the excitement, and the need. The need to put her in her place, but he’d done that; she was clamped underneath him and wasn’t even trying to reverse him this time. But the fire. And he knew, now, that it was the same fire that had led him to throw rounds five and seven. He peeled his right arm away from Rainbow Dash’s back and planted it on the bed, but he kept her wrapped tight in his left. This time, she did not capitalize on the weakness in his position.
Rainbow Dash sucked air back into her lungs, then let out a long breath, like a sigh. She finally pulled her hooves from where she’d had them snaked around Garrus’s head and neck and let them rest next to her head. Her eyes narrowed to half-lidded as she breathed her final challenge:
“You gonna show me what that Turian thing down there is made of, or what?” Garrus felt and heard a low thwack as the prone pegasus kicked a rear hoof upward and into Garrus’s bony abdomen. Then she crossed her forehooves behind her head and raised her hind legs in a wide-angle V, presenting her marehood like it was a bullseye for a dick marksmanship competition. She shifted, and flesh briefly met flesh: wet warmth against leathery lube-slicked skin, like a kiss from her lower lips.
The dam broke. Garrus bore down on Rainbow Dash with the fury of both kinds of fire, but mostly what he bore down on her with was his dick. All it took was a short, gliding motion forward--the target was big enough that taking special aim wasn’t needed.
It was Garrus’s first time inside a mammal pussy, and the sensation was so alien and amazing that he stopped with a jolt when he was halfway in. Rainbow Dash was wide enough to take twice his girth, but malleable enough to envelop him in slippery, wet heat. Compared to the feeling of pushing into a firm-skinned Turian slot, penetrating Rainbow Dash felt like impaling a greased-up marshmallow.
He pushed across the softness of those inner walls that wrapped around him and pulsed with unseen muscles, blood vessels, and slimy natural lube. He instinctively wanted to grab Rainbow Dash by the neck as if grabbing a Turian woman by the collar, but Garrus settled for balancing on his elbows with a fistful of multicolored mane in either hand.
He drew back, slid into Rainbow Dash again and hilted this time, then stayed there for a few electric seconds, grinding his hips into Rainbow Dash’s upturned legs in order to explore her slick depths. She shifted, and waggled her legs, which some-goddamn-how were flexed outward to a nearly flat spread position.
Rainbow Dash’s smirk parted into a wolf-fanged full grin when she managed to lock eyes with Garrus again.
“That all you got?”
And she, impossibly, squeezed Garrus with an unseen set of pony-vag muscles, a little vagina-hug that made Garrus glad that Rainbow Dash probably couldn’t read his face, because he suddenly felt like a kid having his first time, being subjected to pleasure that nothing in his life had prepared him for.
She faked a light yawn. The cocky little bitch. “You’re acting like a scared colt. Some stallion...”
A hard exhalation, a light pull at her mane--she closed her eyes and tilted her head back at that with a victorious “ahh” of satisfaction--and he pulled back, steeling himself the whole way against the urge to groan and sigh like a smitten lover.
“I can flatten your ‘stallions’ on the mat, and I’m gonna flatten you on this bed,” Garrus growled. He slipped his cock free of Rainbow Dash’s tunnel and scooted to the edge of the bed.
A raspberry-like “pfft” sound passed Rainbow Dash’s lips as she curled them into a light sneer. “Uh huh. I’m waiting.”
Garrus reached the edge of the bed and stood. The top of the mattress didn’t quite reach his groin, so his “stallion”-hood jutted out and over the rumpled sheets, extending toward Rainbow Dash and curling upward with a kind of “come hither” shape.
Rainbow Dash’s crossed limbs abruptly came unfolded when Garrus leaned across the bed, clamped one hand over each of her cutie marks, and dragged her right into his waiting crotch. The look of momentary shock on the little pony punk’s face was priceless, but--Garrus’s mouth twitched again at the thought--not as priceless as it was about to be.
Garrus dug his fingers into Rainbow Dash’s haunches and pulled her vagina-first onto his waiting cock. All eight inches plunged easily into her depths in one motion, and brown dextro-metal hips rammed into muscular blue-furred flesh. The clean hit was rewarded with a scratchy “ah!” of surprise, or pain, or desire, as Rainbow’s face flipped from sneering disdain to smiling, satisfied submission.
For a minute--maybe it was a few minutes--maybe it was even longer than that--Garrus kept his grip as he pistoned his hips rhythmically into Rainbow Dash’s buttocks, dealing one long thrust after another after another after another. Rainbow Dash’s entrance was pillow-soft, letting Garrus glide through without resistance. It felt like fucking a jar of thick jelly. It felt like sticking it between two slices of bread that were soaked in axle grease. It was, in a word, amazing. Her body heat was only barely enough to register through a set of dermal plates, but the heat from where she was hugging his cock was plenty.
Every time Garrus thought he was wearing out the rush of new stimulation and settling into the more familiar sensation of sticking his dick repeatedly into a living body, he was hit with a reminder that Rainbow Dash was no ordinary living body. Every time her blood-warmed tunnel contracted around him, she robbed him of familiarity with that jolted of pleasure. He caught himself trying to groan again. Rainbow Dash’s magical, slippery, contracting vagina was slowly but surely melting him into blissful goo.
When a shudder finally worked its way up his chest and out his throat, he managed to keep it to a low grunt--and that much was easily drowned out when Rainbow Dash tilted her head back a little further and loosed a lewd, fully vocalized moan that was somewhere between “ohhhh!” and “aaaah!”
Pulling out took a tremendous act of will, but even with his dick buried to the hilt in ooze-coated ponypuss, Garrus still had willpower in spades.
Her ears flapped once, her eyes fluttered open, and her head perked up. She fixed Garrus with a faint glare. “What the hell? Don’t stop!”
She dropped a hoof straight to her groin, stopping to rub in tiny circles near the upper edge of her own sex. Whatever she had down there, it liked being played with, because the circling motion quickly became feverish, and Rainbow Dash was still visibly panting with the same arousal as before.
Garrus put a hand to his chin, a mockingly contemplative gesture. “What was that moan worth? Two points, you think?”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes flared napalm-hot. “Fuck you!” she rasped in the space between two panting breaths. “Finish what you started, Vakarian!”
She shivered even as she glared, and her body was roiling with sexual energy--parted lips, hungry eyes, heaving chest, thrashing tail, and that glistening, dripping vag. Garrus could literally smell the way she was screaming from head to toe with awakened lust.
It wasn’t the words coming from Rainbow Dash’s lips that convinced Garrus; it was the pursed lips of her vagina. He leaned over her and lashed out to grab her by the mane again, twisting the thick strands around his fingers before closing his fist, to make sure she could feel it. His reach was easily enough to let him hold her head down even while he leaned back and aimed his cock.
“All right, you asked for it,” he murmured.
“Shut up and fuck me!” she snapped.
He laid into her with a furious back-and-forth, in-and-out pace, not even stopping to savor the first thrust. Hardening his mind and systematically pounding at Rainbow Dash was less than a perfect ending, but he was ready to settle for the satisfaction of using his cock to lay her flat and “win” this little tiebreaker round.
It worked, at least. Practically as soon as she had a cock inside her again, a change came over Rainbow Dash’s body. The switch from happily satisfied to uncontrollably possessed by pleasure was as sudden as if her rapidly moving hoof had finally hit the hidden orgasm button buried in her folds. Her jaw, already hanging half open, started to quiver as she let out a “haa-aaaah!” that started as a suppressed wail, then grew to a full-force squeal. The rest of her body reacted in much the same way. First her legs clamped around Garrus’s sides, then there came a kind of arythmic bucking motion with her lower body, like a poor attempt to bridge out of a pin, and then the tendons stood out on her neck as her every muscle from nose to tail seized up, including those controlling her inner walls.
Garrus felt Rainbow Dash’s sex clench and hold this time, wrapping a warm, even grip around his entire length. First came the wash of pleasure, the tightening in his loins as his cock started to twitch eagerly inside her. Then came the shock of danger as Garrus realized what was happening.
He disentangled his fingers from that six-colored mane and pushed off the bed with both hands, pulling himself and his dangerously volatile penis out and away from Rainbow Dash’s amino-based mucous membranes an instant before disaster.
Rainbow Dash didn’t even appear to notice Garrus’s absence for several more seconds. She let off another long, sex-soaked exclamation that quivered and broke whenever she writhed with another wild spasm, and she never let up with the constant massaging at her own groin until she finally settled down and lay still. Her deep breathing was interrupted by shudders, her tail and legs twitched with aftershocks, and her mouth was hanging halfway open. She looked like she’d been knocked cold, except that she also looked like she had just finished having the time of her life.
Garrus allowed himself a small nod and an even smaller chuckle. If taking the opponent for a first-class orgasm wasn’t worth three points, then nothing was. Meanwhile, a sudden touch of wetness at the tips of his fingers alerted him to the fact that his hand had found its way to his penis. The whole length was still coated with Rainbow juice, which forced his fingers to slide along the surface rather than the usual way of gripping the loose skin.
“Watch it,” Garrus said absentmindedly, swallowing hard and backing half a step away from the bed, still rubbing himself. “I’m gonna--”
Out of nowhere, a hoof whipped out and parried Garrus’s hand away from his dick.
“Hey!” Garrus looked down. Rainbow Dash had pulled herself together enough to roll over and crawl toward him, but she wasn’t making eye contact--her eyes were zeroed in on the glistening length of Turian meat in front of her. She edged closer, and Garrus felt hot breath feathering his exposed skin. He had enough time for a single flash of near-panic when he realized Rainbow Dash’s intent. Before he could stop her, she lurched forward and closed her mouth over all eight of his inches, sucking her own juice off as if sucking a piece of candy.
Metaphors about axle grease and marshmallows were inadequate for describing the inside of Rainbow Dash’s mouth. Nowhere in most Turians’ life experiences was a way to describe how it felt to have one’s dick sucked by pair of warm, soft lips wrapped snugly around the circumference, bobbing from head to base while a slippery tongue licked feverishly at the underside, rolling and playing as if trying to lap up more of the taste. Garrus didn’t have a chance in hell against the kind of assault that Rainbow Dash was laying down on his already frayed libido. It started with a tightening in his muscles, then his breath caught in his chest, and the pressure in his loins spiked to the bursting point, like a rifle with an overloaded heat sink, begging to be ejected...
Garrus managed to groan a tense “oh fuck” before discharging--almost in Rainbow Dash’s mouth. She pulled off and away just in time to purse her lips shut and take the first shot on her cheek, a thick rope that hit in a linear splatter that came dangerously close to her eye. She turned her head away for the remainder, and Garrus spurted onto her jaw, then her neck, thankfully far from any sensitive tissues.
The bed bounced as Garrus fell forward onto it with his palms, then his elbows, then his forehead. He realized that he hadn’t exhaled, so he did so. It was a long, cleansing breath, heavy with the fear, tension, and faint guilt of the last few seconds. His dick was settling down and starting to recede, but his heart was still pounding. He’d just come within microseconds of filling Rainbow Dash with toxic dextro-jizz, which would have been far worse than just bodyslamming her onto a wrestling mat.
After only a few seconds, Garrus’s brain got its act together, and guilt turned to anger. “You do realize that you just proved how much of a liability you are, right?” Garrus said, looking up from the bed and fixing Rainbow Dash’s cum-spattered face with a hard look.
Rainbow Dash’s brows lifted in surprise, then they lowered and furrowed into a cum-spattered glare. “Thanks,” she grumbled, breaking eye contact and reaching for a corner of the sheets. “And you just proved that you’re a fucking jerk.” She turned away as she wiped her face on the white cloth.
Garrus pounded the bed with a fist. “Are you really saying you don’t understand? You just risked taking yourself out!”
“What am I supposed to understand?” Rainbow Dash lowered the sheet, showing her bared teeth. “Why don’t you get off your high horse and thank me instead of lecturing me?”
Garrus pushed off the bed and back to his feet. He wobbled once, but managed to steady himself easily enough. He did not allow his anger to falter. “Thank you for taking a stupid risk?”
“I took a risk to do something for you!” Rainbow Dash spat. “Are you gonna refuse to take risks for me tomorrow?”
And just like that, Garrus’s anger turned to contempt and disgust. “Don’t give me that! Are you going to be that stupid just for fun tomorrow?”
“For fun? Fuck you! I hate giving head!”
“Then why--!”
Garrus’s glare failed, and he slowly closed his mouth.
Rainbow Dash kicked the stained sheet back to the corner of the bed and stared at it. “Whatever, Vakarian. Get dressed and get out of my room.”
Garrus looked toward the door, where his jumper was still pooled on the ground. Then he looked back to Rainbow Dash where she sat on the bed. She had her head lowered in a sulk. She looked tired, burned out, extinguished. Seeing that made Garrus feel much the same.
“Look, I had you wrong,” Garrus said. “I did from the start, actually. I guess I just--”
“Yeah, I guess you had me wrong,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “But I’m sorry too. I would never pull stunts in combat. I was only doing it to piss you off.”
“Well...” Garrus scooted closer to Rainbow Dash so that he could place a hand on he back. “Look, I’m glad I came here. We both needed this. You agree?”
When she turned toward him again, it wasn’t with the spark or flame in her eyes--it was a simpler, easier kind of warmth. “Good for you. I’m lucky I stopped you from coming all over the sheets.”
Garrus flopped backward onto the bed, where he landed with a whumph and a bounce. He turned to look up at Rainbow Dash. “Are you gonna be more careful tomorrow?”
“No.” She flopped down to lay next to him. “Not if I have a chance to protect someone else on the team. Sorry.”
The ceiling lights had three settings: Earth, Palaven, and fluorescent. At the moment, they were burning on the soft Earth setting, a gentle dose of full-spectrum ultraviolet that was half-assed by Turian standards, but perfect for keeping mammals like Rainbow Dash awake and active. It was actually quite nice--just the thing for a nice, sedate afterglow.
“For what it’s worth, I trust you. I know you’ve got my back,” said Garrus.
Rainbow Dash yawned. “Good. Without me picking up your slack, we won’t last five minutes out there.”
Garrus thrust a hand out to cuff Rainbow Dash on the shoulder. “Brat.”
Rainbow Dash hit him back. “Jerk.”
They lay there side by side for a few minutes, looking into the white false sky above.
Eventually, Garrus spoke up. “How many rounds was that? And was it still a tie?”
“You gotta be kidding,” Rainbow said, shooting Garrus a sidelong look.
Garrus didn’t answer with words. Instead, he rolled off the bed and walked to the door until he was standing over his shed clothing.
Then he turned around and raised his hands in a wrestling stance. “Round Two starts in fifteen seconds. Unless you’re going to forfeit for me.”
~~~~~
“...More than one way to work off stress, I guess.”
Garrus kept staring into space. Telling Shepard the story was one thing, but Shepard didn’t need to know Garrus’s dirty secrets. The story had been true enough: nine rounds with a recon scout, then a rematch in her quarters. The lie by omission--that the scout in question hadn’t been a Turian--was insignificant.
“It sounds like you’re carrying some tension. Maybe I could help you get rid of it.”
Garrus stopped in his tracks, then folded his arms. Human faces were quite expressive, and Shepard had a very, very worrying angle to the corners of her mouth.
“I, uh, didn’t think you’d feel like sparring, Commander.”
Her smile grew as she stepped forward with one foot and issued her challenge: “What if we skipped right to the tiebreaker? We could test your reach... and my flexibility.”
“Oh. I didn’t... hmm. Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.” Garrus’s heart was three kinds of pounding. First, because Commander Shepard had just propositioned him. Second, because she was Commander Shepard. Third, because the Commander’s half-lidded eyes and sultry smirk were bringing the images back, images of mammal flesh and warmth...
“Well, why the hell not? There’s nobody in the galaxy I respect more than you. But... just one thing.”
Shepard cocked her head. “What is it?”
“Let’s not compare you to that recon scout, please. It might make things a little... you know... awkward.”