They leave the city for a while, just the two of them, slipping past the walls and sharing kisses on the train. Northampton’s quiet in a way that's almost frightening after the bustle of Mutant Town, but liberating too.
Liberating in all sorts of ways, as Sheena discovers when Jennika presses up behind her as they're bringing in their packs, slipping a hand up under her skirt and humming low in her ear: "You ready to party, love?"
And they do. It's like a honeymoon without the expensive marriage: up against the wall, in the shower, on the laundry machine as the cycle runs. They're both horny as fuck and a little nuts; they've had to be, to survive this long in a fucked-up world like theirs. They have a few days without limits, and they run with it.
So maybe that's how Sheena ended up face up on a picnic blanket, legs spread, while butterflies twitter past her snout and bees hum gently in her ears. She’s slick from bug spray and sunscreen, among other things.
Her hands are linked above her head, fingers tightly laced, ordered not to move them or else. Jennika had said it with one of those faces of hers that were at once funny and a little bit genuinely scary, which of course makes the whole thing even hotter.
Jenny works slowly, occasionally pausing to help herself to the last of the picnic food. She'd said something about Sheen's pussy starting to smell like strawberries, and Sheena had wanted to tackle her into the grass at that, but she'd valiantly held herself back.
It's so hard, though. So hard, especially when Jenny puts that tough, dirty mouth between Sheena's legs and slowly starts to lap and toy with her clit. She was good at this shit before they got together, and by now she knows Sheena's body well enough to play it like a fucking fiddle.
Jenny’s eyes are dark and hooded, narrowed in concentration like she’s going through a particular difficult kata or a complicated riff. She eats pussy with the same kind of ruthless precision she does to train, and Sheena doesn’t know if she loves that or hates herself for getting so fucking hooked on it.
"Mmm," she hums, like the seductive bitch she is, her lips fluttering as they press against Sheena's tender flesh. She tilts her head back with a sigh, closing her eyes against the sun's overhead glare.
She's pushed higher, higher, higher--and then it jerks to an abrupt stop, her eyes jerking open with a yelp. "The fuck?" Sheena awkwardly pushes herself up enough to see Jenny grinning at her, her eyes twinkling with a devilish light.
"Steady," she warns. And fuck, but her voice is deep and commanding the way it really only gets when they're in bed together, and Sheena melts. She flops back on the grass with a sigh, a little flutter of anticipation in her belly.
Jenny dips her head back between Sheena's legs and sets to work with tiny, kittenish licks. Sheena slowly graduates from tense little squirms to heavy breathing--snorting, maybe, but Jenny has assured her over and over again that her snorting is the cutest there ever was.
She thinks it might be it this time when Jenny's warm tongue shoves up inside her in a little curl of flame. It's like she's being burnt from the inside out...and then Jenny's pulling back, careful not to quite go the full distance. Sheena lets out a growl of frustration.
Jenny's tongue traces shapes against her flesh: P A T I E N C E. "Yo-you're spending...too much t-time with...those fucking ninja," Sheena pants. Jenny chuckles with a hint of teeth, a warning or a promise. She gives Sheena's thigh a chaste little kiss.
The third time she doesn't bother to let Sheena get her breath back, just keeps up with too much and not enough all at the same time. In desperation, Sheena tries to grind down on her, but gets stopped by a muscular hand pressed to her stomach, calluses rubbing steadily against her belly.
Her head can still twitch and jerk, though, and that's how she sees Jenny's hand steadily working between her own legs as she continues with the torture. You hypocritical bitch, Sheena says, or tries to say, but what comes out is a twisted little rasp.
Jennika must hear her, or maybe it's the smell or the taste or something, but she lets out an answering churr. It's a steady, thrumming sound, and the way it makes her mouth vibrate...it's almost enough to send Sheena over the edge, and the fucking she-devil must realize because she pulls her head back a little until it passes, before going right back to work.
Sheena forces herself to look away from that sight. Focus, she tells herself, trying to remember all that shit about inner peace the Splinter Clan is always slinging. She won’t let Jenny beat her, she can’t–
It lasts all of twenty seconds before Jenny purrs again, choking Sheena on the hot sharp edge of not enough, not enough. “Please!” she gasps, before she can stop herself.
Jenny’s eyes dart to her, that thrice-damned mouth still at work. “Hmm?” she asks delicately, breath wafting over Sheena’s pubic hair.
“Please, let me–” She wails as Jenny digs at her again.
“Sorry? Can’t quite hear you.”
“Let me come, you sadistic fuck!”
Jenny raises an eye ridge. “Oh, I’m sure you can hold out a bit longer,” she teases. “You don’t seem that concerned, babe.”
“Jennika,” she pleads. Perhaps it’s the full name, or something in her eyes, but something tells her that Jenny finally realizes it’s serious.
And when it’s serious, it’s serious. Jenny goes down like she’s at the fucking microphone, spilling hungry little churrs as she works. They’re playing our song, Sheena thinks hysterically, right before she finally tumbles over the edge
She squeals, she’s not fucking ashamed of it, she doesn’t care if she sounds like a real pig or not because no one can make her squeal except her Jennika, and her Jennika makes her feel more human than anyone in the world. Her hands fly down and dig into Jenny’s shoulders, struggling to ground them both as she comes and comes and comes.
It doesn’t stop Jenny from coming herself, spilling the last of her moans over Sheena’s sweaty skin. The scent of their pleasure fills the air, dampness stains the blanket, and it’s so heady Sheena thinks she could get high if she breathed deep enough. Her wig had partly slipped off at some point and she doesn’t even care.
Jenny wriggles up beside her and flops down with a groan that somehow manages to convey both exhaustion and smug satisfaction. Sheena throws an arm around her and pulls her close, planting a kiss on her head. 
They lie there in silence for a while and then Sheena says, dead calm, “An hour. Just give me an hour, and then I’ll get the dildo from the house and you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
Jenny smiles into Sheena’s arm. “Can’t wait.”