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Refueling	By : KaramaNine Category: +G through L > G.I. Joe Views: 1826 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own GI Joe or Storm Shadow and make no money off this fanfiction or any other.

Chapter List
- 1-Refueling
- 1
Posted with apologies - I'm not exactly a master of adult fiction. Hopefully you'll still enjoy!

This would be set in the first few years that Storm Shadow was with Cobra, on a rare night away from Cobra Island. It was written ages ago, and a censored version was sent as a bonus to Arashikage on fanfiction, and eventually posted as the second story in Petites Histoires Risquees (still on fanfiction).

It's in Storm Shadow's point of view.

***

I sit down at a table that gives me a good view of the rest of the bar and start looking around for someone else who is not accompanied.

There are a few, but due to the late hour, most of them are already drunk out of their mind or looking like they’re desperate enough to settle for anything, and ready to regret it come morning.

I sigh, feeling incredibly foolish for even caring. I honestly have more important things to worry about than picking up a date and having a bit of fun, and I’m not sure I can explain why I’m here at all. I know why I wanted to come here, but I don’t know why I gave in to the desire. It’s a waste of time: I should be resting before I have to go back to the Island tomorrow morning.

I’m about to get up and give up on finding some company when a women detaches herself from a small group and walks to me. I peel my ears to try and hear what her friends are saying while she makes her way here, but I can’t make it out over the loud music.

“Hello handsome.” She greets me, sitting herself down next to me. “My friends and I don’t think we’ve seen you ‘round here before. You new to the neighbourhood?”

“I’m just passing through.” I reply, forcing a smile.

“You look blue. Wanna talk?”

I blink at her. That’s not the offer I was expecting, but it is still a tempting one. I shrug.

“I’m just not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.”

“You don’t like your job?”

I snort.

“You could say that. You could also say I loathe it with every fibre of my being.”

“Why don’t you quit then?”

“Long story. Let’s just say it’s absolutely not an option.”

“O…kay.”

“What about you?” I ask her. “Judging from your first question, you live around here?”

She nods.

“I work at the restaurant across the street.” She says.

I can’t help wrinkling my nose – the restaurant across the street is a greasy burger joint.

“Yeah, it’s gross.” She laughs. “What do YOU do?”

“Private security.” I answer.

“Rent-a-cop.” She says, nodding knowingly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t like it either.”

Ninja rent-a-cop. I chuckle at the thought.

“Actually, I’m a bodyguard.”

Her eyes widen.

“Really? Who’s your boss? Anyone famous?”

“I'm sorry, but I really can't say. It's classified.” I reply, figuring it’ll sound cooler than just refusing to answer.

Her eyes widen a bit more.

“And you don’t like it? Why?”

“I can’t stand my boss, for one thing. The man might be a genius, but I don't agree with his philosophies at all, to the point I feel like it's a stain on me to be working for him. He's also, without a doubt, the single most annoying individual on the planet. I absolutely hate my coworkers, too, and I work in a remote location, so I can never get away from the lot of them.”

She doesn't react much, leading me to conclude she assumes I'm exaggerating. I can't say I blame her and besides, that assumption reduces her chances of finding out who I work for from incredibly low to completely nil – definitely a good thing. I can't deny, however, that I wouldn't have minded just a bit more sympathy.

“So this is the first time you get to go out and meet someone in a while?” She asks.

I sigh and take a sip of my tea. She giggles, causing me to raise an eyebrow at her. That was unexpectedly cute.

“Aren't you on the strong stuff.” She says mockingly.

I snicker and bend towards her.

“It’s worse than you think.” I say, lowering my tone as though I’m confiding a great secret. “It’s herbal.”

She laughs, but stops abruptly and bends towards me, whispering as well.

“Sounds like a lonely life. I'm sorry.”

My eyes trail down and focus on my tea.

“Like I said, not looking forward to going back.” I mutter. I take another sip to stop myself from elaborating.

“So you figured you’d like to have a bit of fun to recharge your batteries? Is that it?”

“Basically, but talking was good too. Thank you for listening.”

“What? You changed your mind?” She asks.

“You only offered a talk.” I point out.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to offer more.”

“It’d have to be your place. There are… classified things in mine.”

The classified things are nothing more than the weapons I don’t have on me right now, but I’m pretty sure they would scare her off.

“Wow. You are SUCH a romantic. It’d have to be your place… you’ve gone and swept me right off my feet.”

My eyes widen briefly before I realize she may have been expecting me to try and seduce her. Come to think of it, it would probably have been the right thing to do. I’m too used to ninja partners who dispense with all the niceties above asking for consent – and who sometimes forget to do that much, too.

She looks genuinely upset. I get up, go around the table, tip her chair back and pick her up in a cradle-hold just as she starts falling backwards, smiling down at her.

“How’s that? You weren't on your feet, so I figured sweeping you off your chair instead was all right.”

She laughs.

“Better."

***

I can't help wondering if I've somehow regressed to 18 years old. It's been a while, but I honestly didn't expect to literally be aching. By the time we close the door to her apartment behind us, I'm practically driven insane. The fact that her pulse and breathing betray her own rising desire doesn't help. I pick up the telltale scent as well, which does absolutely nothing to calm me down.

I let her set the pace through sheer willpower. She runs a finger down my shirt and whistles appreciatively.

Even this small caress feels heavenly. I start concentrating on my breathing – I have no intention to make her waste her night: it wouldn't be fair to her and I’d be embarrassed for the rest of my life.

She lifts my shirt up and I take it off for her, letting it fall to the floor along with the knives and shuriken I had tucked into it. It lands rather heavily, causing her to glance at it in surprise.

She turns her head a bit to do so: I take advantage of it by sneaking a long kiss on her neck, causing her to moan and instantly making her heart accelerate. Pleased with the reaction, I continue to lick and nibble at the spot and run one hand along her side and her stomach before settling it over her breast. She follows my lead, flicking my nipples with her thumbs. It feels like a small electrical shock each time she touches them… I hear myself moan.

Breathe. I need to breathe.

I start unbuttoning her blouse with my other hand, until I’m able to slip it off her arms. When her pulse starts to steady again, I move my mouth from her neck to her own lips, hoping she won’t object – I’ve seen girls decide, for whatever reason, that kisses on the lips were more significant than anywhere else… my own take on it is that they feel nice.

She doesn’t object at all and kisses hungrily back. She moves her hands from my chest to my butt, and squeezes briefly before giggling into the kiss. I pull back slightly and look at her questioningly.

“Sorry.” She says. “It’s just... you don’t just look like one of those Greek statues, you feel like one, too.”

She doesn’t make it sound like a bad thing, quite the opposite. I automatically want to show her just how statue-like I am right now, and I remind myself again to breathe.

Just in time for her to move her hands to the front of me and start undoing my belt, her hands brushing against my pants. I bite my lower lip and grasp her breasts, rubbing her nipples much like she was doing to mine earlier, trying to concentrate on her to bring myself back under control.

I quickly detect which particular movements of my fingers cause the best reaction and concentrate on those. She starts moaning and becomes a lot clumsier at trying to undo my pants, resulting in more brushing of her hands against me.

The sound and feel combination makes it very difficult to resist the urge to rip her own pants off. I leave my right hand where it is and use my left to start undoing them instead. She finally manages to slip mine off and they fall to my ankles, heavily like my shirt and for similar reasons. She stops for a moment, which gives me a chance to gather my thoughts enough to step out of them.

“Why are you clothes so heavy?” She asks.

I was about to nibble on her ear, so I whisper the answer with my lips brushing against the entrance to her ear canal, counting on the sensation to drive the answer right out of her mind.

“It’s just some bladed weapons. I always carry some.”

She shivers. I give a quick lick and move to the spot on her neck that worked so well earlier. She gasps and grasps my shoulders. I linger a bit before moving down to give her left nipple some attention again. I let my right hand trail down to her stomach and over her panties.

Oh, they WOULD be silk: silk is already nice enough to touch as it is, soaked silk panties are just not fair play: as if it wasn’t already difficult enough to control myself, honestly. Girls are sadistic, I swear.

As if to confirm that, she lowers her hands down from my shoulders to my hips, slips her fingers under the waistband of my underwear and moves them to the front to slip the elastic over my erection. She intentionally trails her fingers along me and before I know it, I’ve pulled her own panties down, stepped out of my own underwear and moved my right hand to cup her.

She’s dripping. And her moans are starting to sound like pants.

Breathe. Calm down. Stop acting like this is your first time. Don’t make her regret bringing you here. Calm down.

I straighten up, move my lips to hers, and concentrate on her reactions again as I start stroking her labia. I intentionally stroke everything else before I move on to her clitoris, teasing her as punishment for wearing silk panties. She gasps and her pulse picks up again the moment I touch it. Still teasing, I keep concentrating on the rest of the region and only brushing it every now and then.

She gets even by tickling my balls before grabbing me and starting to stroke up and down. I’m concentrating enough on her that I’m actually only half losing it until she runs her thumb over the tip of my penis.

I gasp and a violent shudder runs through me. She smiles through my kiss and does it again on her next pass, practically sending me right over the edge. I groan and abandon her lips, going for her neck again instead. She gasps again and unconsciously pushes herself into my hand.

I start concentrating on her clitoris, quickly find the angle and level of pressure that have the most effect on her breathing and pulse, and exploit it thoroughly. She cries out and bites my shoulder when she comes, trusting her hips and digging her nails into my hips.

She pulls back with some effort after winding down and looks around until she locates her purse, almost right next to her foot. I hook it with mine to lift it up a bit. She digs into it very briefly and pulls out a chocolate flavoured condom.

I swallow. Girls only use those when they want to taste them. I can’t take this right now, I’m going to explode if she so much as gives me one lick. She already has it opened and while I’m trying to make myself tell her not to, she puts it on me and pushes me towards the couch.

I need to stop her. I don’t want to finish right away, I…

I notice that I’m sitting down when she runs her tongue from the base of my shaft to the tip. She takes the tip in her mouth and from the inside, continues to twirl her tongue around it, while at the same time increasing the pressure by sucking on it.

I emit a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper and my mind goes blank. Everything else than the sensation of her mouth around me stops existing, and I have just enough sense left to will myself not to come so that the pleasure won’t stop.

She thankfully notices she’s having a bit more effect than strictly desirable at this point and doesn’t keep it up for long. I moan a bit disappointingly when she releases me and kisses her way up to my mouth, straddling me.

It’s not that I always want to be on top, but I’ve been resisting throwing her on the floor and having her right this second ever since we got in. I get up, lifting her up at the same time. She gasps in surprise before giggling.

Nobody should be allowed to sound this cute and this sexy all at once.

I lower her back to the floor and position myself on top of her. I slip inside her before she’s even quite settled, causing her to gasp again. This time, it mutates into a moan.

I don’t move for a few seconds, trying to calm down, trying to get used to the sensation. It doesn’t work all that well. She’s so warm, and tight, and wet...

I’m moving again before I quite realize it. I try to settle into a slow rhythm, but she wraps her legs around my waist and starts moving faster than I am, and all of a sudden, I honestly can’t think of any reason not to follow suit, so I do.

Her moans turn to whimpers and she starts moving her hips in such a way that tells me she’s trying to change my angle, to increase the friction on her clitoris. Supporting myself on my right hand, I insert my left one between us, find her magic spot again and on each of my trust, I apply a bit of extra pressure to it, making little circles all the while.

I feel her suddenly clamp around me and she screams, her legs and arms tensing right up, her hips trusting back and forth erratically. I hear myself scream too as my body finally has its way and I come in what feels like an explosion that completely wipes out the coherent part of my brains.

By the time I have any notion of where I am again, I’m laying on top of her, supported only partly by my elbows, panting in her shoulder. She’s hugging me loosely, breathing hard herself.

I roll off to my back and pull her to me. She snuggles into my side, using my shoulder as a pillow.

***

It’s already morning by the time I get back to my room. I haven’t slept a wink, but between having someone non-evil to talk to – which we did a lot of even after we got to her place – and the more basic, physical comfort she provided, I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time and I don’t regret the missed sleep at all.
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Refueling