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Hotel Sex	By : CrystalEllinon Category: +G through L > G.I. Joe Views: 2886 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own G.I. Joe, and make no money from it. I just dabble my perverted little brain in the world occasionally.

Chapter List
- 1-Hotel Sex.
- 2-Second round
- 1
- 2
Absolute shameless smut. If you've ever read my ff.net stories, you know that I refuse to accept Junko's death, because she is too awesome to die. (I feel the same about Billy, and Doc, and Jinx, and Jaye...but that's another issue). So, I suppose this takes place in an AU where she survived, even though in the comics you never actually see her body (because she's NOT DEAD, dammit...)

Junko dropped down through the hotel window, landing silently on her toes. She froze for a split second, automatically scanning for threats.

There weren't any. The room was quiet and just as they'd left it. She stood and moved aside; Tommy eeled his way through the window a moment later. He turned to close and latch the window; Junko savored the post successful mission glow of adrenaline. She reached for the buckles that held the twin swords on her back, but paused. Tommy was pulling the drapes closed, his back to her. Even now, he moved with a sort of tightly coiled grace, and his uniform was tight enough that she could see his muscles shift underneath the tough cloth.

The adrenaline high that came just before or after battle was a potent aphrodisiac. Junko didn’t normally need much of an excuse to take shameless advantage of her husband, but after recently engaging in some extreme violence, in a safe place, with Tommy right there, looking distinctly jumpable…Well, it led one place fast.

Tommy glanced around at her, an eyebrow rising under his mask; Junko knew that he could hear her pulse accelerating and her breath coming faster. Junko undid the buckles, dropped her swords unceremoniously on the floor, pulled off her mask, took three steps, grabbed Tommy by the front of the shirt with one hand, yanked off his mask with the other, and kissed him. Hard.

He was all over her almost instantly; Junko fumbled with the irritating straps keeping her hands off of his chest. His swords tumbled to the floor, and a buckle might have gotten snapped. Junko didn’t care.

Her back hit the wall; the ‘art’ on the walls rattled. Tommy’s lips were working their way down her throat, and Junko was ripping weapons belts off of him as fast as she could. She fumbled and lost focus for a second when he found a particularly sensitive nerve cluster; she wasn’t sure if it was her racing pulse or the whimper that clued him in, but he nipped at the spot and her brain shut down.

Clothes. He was wearing far too much clothing. Getting the shirt off in any conventional way would mean he’d have to take his hands off of her, which she wasn’t keen on. Junko found the hem of his shirt and ripped.

His uniform was made of remarkably tough stuff, but she was determined, and within moments she had the damned thing off of him and her hands on bare skin. Tommy fumbled with the ties on her gi for a second, only to find she’d knotted them securely. He made a soft noise of frustration and drew a knife from the wrist-sheath still strapped to his forearm. A flash of metal, and Tommy absently tossed the blade aside as her gi peeled off, sliced cleanly down the front. Junko pressed herself against him, savoring the slide of skin on skin.

It wasn’t enough. She wanted him so badly she was panting, and he was pressing hard and hot against her belly. She kissed him again, and he backed her against the table. He swept a few odds and ends (and a small lamp) out of their way and onto the floor. Junko distinctly heard glass shatter, but she didn’t give a damn.

He picked her up and set her on the edge of the table; she wrapped her legs around his hips and gasped against his shoulder as he plunged into her. His hands were on her hips; she braced herself with one arm and held onto him for dear life with the other as they both started taking as hard and fast as they could.

He always seemed to know exactly what she wanted; Junko credited this to his uncanny hearing, which must have let him hear every flutter of her pulse and almost-silent gasp. And so now, when he set a pace that was hard and fast and deep, she wasn’t surprised. She tightened her legs around his hips, pressing against him with every thrust.

She could already feel heat coiling in her belly; when they were going this hard and hot and fast, she never lasted long. She moaned as he hit something deep inside her that set her spine to tingling, and dug her fingernails not-at-all gently into his back. He made a sound that she couldn’t place as either pleasure or pain, and bit her on the shoulder. Junko threw her head back as her orgasm started to uncoil; her toes curled, and she dimly heard her own voice crying out.

Tommy groaned, stiffened, and she felt the pulsing heat as he spilled himself into her.

They clung to each other for a second, riding out the aftershocks. Tommy was panting for breath; Junko’s pulse was still racing. They were both sweating. After a few moments Tommy withdrew and Junko slid off the table. They both took a few slightly unsteady steps to collapse on the bed. Junko curled herself around her man and let herself lapse into a warm, pleasurable languor .

“Holy Buddha, God, and Krishna.” Tommy murmured at last.

“No kidding.” Junko sighed. “Sorry about your back.”

“Don’t. At the time, I was rather enjoying it. Is your shoulder okay?”

“Fine.” She smiled against his chest.

He raised his head, then let it drop back against the pillow again. “I should probably go pry my knife out of the wall, shouldn’t I?”

Junko looked up. The knife Tommy had removed her clothing with was stuck firmly into the drywall beside the window. She lay back down, smiling. “You know, you didn’t have to throw it. You could have just dropped it.”

He shrugged elaborately. “Seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

She giggled. “That and breaking the lamp…I somehow think that we’re going to be in trouble with the owner of this place.”

He smiled against her hair. “I’m petrified. And I think we’ll find out what they think of us sooner than later.”

Right on cue, someone knocked on the door. A pause, and a voice that Junko recognized as the night manager. “Is everything okay in there? I had reports that it sounded like there was a fight going on in here.”

Tommy and Junko glanced at each other.

“Well, I suppose we weren’t exactly being quiet.” Junko sat up. “Want to traumatize him?”

“True, yes, and there’s two of them. He’s got the security guard with him.” Tommy stood and sauntered over to the door. Still buck naked, he pulled the door open just a bit…not enough to reveal the shredded uniforms, scattered weapons, and broken lamp, but enough to completely mentally scar the pair of men standing just outside their room. Junko put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter at the look of abject horror that flashed over the night manager’s face.

“Just fine, thanks.” Tommy said cheerfully.

“Sir.” The night manager sounded faint. “Sir…you’re not wearing anything.”

“I generally find,” Tommy said dryly, “that when I’m having sex clothes are something of an annoyance.”

The security guard (a tall young man of perhaps twenty) grinned. The manager swallowed hard. “Sir…I had reports of a woman screaming.”

Tommy’s body language went cocky. “I bet you did.” His voice was smug.

“Sir.” The night manager seemed to be trying very hard to regain his composure. “The woman in the room next to yours said she heard glass breaking. I don’t generally find it necessary to break things when…well…when I’m…” He flushed.

“So you’ve never had really good sex, then.” Tommy shrugged. “My condolences.”

The security guard snickered. The manager flushed again. “Sir, I do have to make sure…”

Tommy turned to her. The manager went an even deeper shade of crimson when he caught sight of the scratch marks she’d left on Tommy’s back. “Love, the nice man wants to make sure I’m not killing you.”

Junko wrapped the comforter around herself and glided over. The security guard’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of her, and the young man grinned again. Junko pressed herself against Tommy’s side and slid a hand up his spine.

“If what you’ve been doing counts as murder, you can come back in and murder me again. We’ll pay for any damages to the room.” She purred. “In fact…love, why don’t you get rid of the nice men, come back to bed, and see about killing me a time or two right now?”

Tommy grinned. “There. You see? Consensual all around. Now, if you’d excuse me, I believe this woman requires my continued undivided attention.”

“Dude…go.” The security guard spoke for the first time. “At least someone is having a great night. Boss, I think that we’ve talked to the nice naked couple long enough. Let’s let them alone to finish screwing each other senseless, huh?”

The poor manager muttered something about not getting paid enough for the shit he saw, rubbed a temple, and turned away without so much as a “sorry for interrupting.” Tommy closed the door.

Junko felt absolutely no remorse for the therapy bills the manager would be sure to be racking up soon. She just steered Tommy towards the bed again.
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Hotel Sex