Halloween
'I am not loving this,' you decide as you pull up to "Phantasmo's World of Terror". Why did that call have to come in when Oliver was out? Nick, a longtime friend of you both and fellow agent, had called to say there was a very important informant waiting here. You were loath to leave without your partner but Nick insisted this guy was scared and nervous. He would definitely run if someone couldn't get to him right now. He would be dressed as Zorro. You laughed at that until Nick informed you that you needed to throw a costume on so you didn't arouse suspicion.
So here you were at nearly 1am on Halloween night at a nearly deserted Spook House, no back up, freezing your butt off dressed as a pirate wench in a too-short skirt and strapless bodice, and hoping Nick will keep his promise not to ask why you just happened to have this particular costume handy. He doesn't need to know that Oliver has this childhood attachment to pirate stories that you, sometimes, indulge. There is no ticket taker at the door, just a sign: Closing at 1, See you next year! You have 20 minutes. You dash inside.
You keep your sig sauer pointed at the floor, refusing to aim it at anymore of the automated ghoulies that pop up from time to time. In the distance, you spot a black clad figure with his back to you. You step off the path and into the graveyard set, kicking a zombie head when it pops up and almost makes you scream. You get behind him and press the barrel right into the small of his back.
"Keep your hands out where I can see them and don't turn around until I say." He nods. You begin to pat him down, running your hand over his torso and descending, his rump (which you swear he leaned into your hand when you did), and down his legs. He is very well toned. "Okay, you can turn."
He does. He is indeed Zorro, tight black pants tucked in boots, black blousy shirt open to a low vee exposing a wonderful chest covered with hair and, of course, the mask and hat. "Nick sent me," you say holstering your gun, "what did you want to tell us?"
He steps forward too fast for you to react and get your gun. His hands are at your back, pressing you to him as his mouth sears yours in a kiss. As you open your mouth to protest, his tongue darts in and swirls with your own. When you both come up for air, he rushes you backwards against the wall and keeps you there by the force of his body against yours. You stare up into his face, trying to keep the fear off your features while your heart pumps a mile a minute. He smiles and reaches up, removing his hat by flinging it off his head and into the darkness. He pulls the mask from his eyes. Zorro's image is replaced by Oliver's grinning face. Your question is written in your expression.
"Sorry Love, Nick owed me a favor. I know this is your favorite holiday and last year you missed it completely due to that little jaunt in Rome."
You really find it very sweet that he did all this just for you, but you continue to glare at him, not wanting him to know the end justified his means. You press back against him to free yourself. He does not budge but his eyes flash with passion. "Do you really want to fight?"
Your heart picks up its flutter again. Oh god this could be fun. You push hard against him in answer, this time almost succeeding in moving him away from you. His body moves even tighter against you in retaliation. He moves his hand under your skirt. Your breath catches. Oliver smiles. You blush as you realize his intent when you feel him remove your gun from your garter holster. "You son of a..." Your words are cut off by Oliver's rough kiss. He is crushing your mouth, nipping at your tongue, bruising your lips, and you never want him to stop.
You feel him reach under your skirt again. 'Not that easily Mr. Sampson, not this time.' You clamp your legs shut seconds before you feel his hand on your thigh. He tries to pull them apart, when that doesn't work, he gently rubs your leg. Nope, that's not going to do it either. He breaks off the kiss and looks to you, challenge burning in your eyes. He grinds his hips against you, letting you feel his hardness. You manage to stifle a groan and never taking your eyes from his, still refuse him access. His hand moves to your throat, rubbing the place he knows you like. He resumes his kisses, this time meticulous and tender. You know you're not going to be able to keep your end of the game up much longer, not under this assault.
Oliver's hand slides down from your neck to your shoulder and then down to the top of the bodice which he rips away with one pull. In the back of your mind, you're dreading how you're going to explain having to have this damn thing repaired...again! That thought is soon dispersed by the careful kneading of Oliver's hands on your breasts. You can't deny him, or yourself, any longer. As soon as you part your legs just a little, you feel Oliver's knee slide between, ensuring you don't change your mind. You feel his nimble fingers behind you, undoing the wrap skirt and pulling it from your body. You are now pinned against him in nothing but panties. "This isn't fair!" You bring your hands to the front of his shirt and rip it completely open, loving the feel of his bare chest hugging so tightly to yours. He reaches down and unzips his pants. You grab the top of the pants and shove them down to his thigh. Your hands explore his smooth cheeks, squeezing them until he is panting in your ear.
You feel his fingers curl over the waistband of your lace panties and bid your favorite pair a silent good-bye as he sends them the way of the bodice. He slides his fevered forehead against your own and looks you in the eyes before capturing your lips once more with his own. He secures both your wrists in one hand and holds them against the wall over your head. He uses his knee to boost you up, your legs coming to curl around his thighs. When you slide back down, he impales you on his erection. You moan into each others mouths, working your bodies together with perfect familiarity. You tear your mouth from his, needing air as you climax together.
You slide your legs back down to support yourself. Oliver leans against you, planting small kisses on your shoulderblade. "We should go," you manage after a few minutes. He looks up at you. "They'll be closing soon. We don't want to get locked in."
"Nick's brother owns the place. It's all ours till the morning when they come to tear it down." You smile at him. "Happy Halloween my Love." You kiss him again and slide to the floor together.
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| The character of Oliver Sampson and the show VR.5 were created by John Sacret Young and are © Samoset Productions and Rysher Entertainment. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |