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X-Men: Isolationism

By: StonedAsia



Disclaimer: Characters portrayed in the following are not mine and I did not create them.

Isolationism:

What a basic mistake to make. Elementary error for someone like him. Maybe Cable had other things on his mind, other anxieties, but getting white-out from the Point Barrow tundra midday was dense. He wouldn't even be able to make lunch, the blindness so severe. He had stepped off the ladder, promising himself not to gaze out on the miles of desert permafrost when his receiver fired up just inside the door. One swift turn of surprise -- who'd be contacting him over private comm. channels anyway? -- and straight to his one good eye a visual headfreeze which left him more partially sighted and so stunned he fell thud onto his backside, shovel digging dangerously close to his privates. Canisters scattered, a yell swallowed in on/off wind and snow and his pride wounded, he got up and perched on the side of the steps. It had taken him so suddenly he had to get back his senses. He felt like an old man, slipping on the first frost in cheery old Chicago and cracking a hip. He felt for the items, brushing off frozen earth and frozen freeze, tossing them roughly through the door which had blown open and which no doubt would have chilled the entire cabin by now and staggered blindly up the stairs making them creak like a fat three-year old on an adventure. The wind screamed abuse at his retreat, Stooges playing the northerly gale and battering him breathless. 

He struggled with the door. It shut, mercifully, and he could relax somewhat. The light had shifted; silhouettes no longer cast by the log fire for it had blown out, rendering ash and splinters in a pile at his feet. The signal went off again and his hand went out to grab for the small grey device, knocking something off the stand. 'Yes? Online, receiving, go ahead.'

'Nate?'

Domino's voice.

'Nate?' It repeated. 'You there?'

He shuffled, feeling the shivers already rattling his neck. 'Yes yes receiving Dom go ahead.'

'Nate! Nate? Pick up.'

'Yes Dom! Receiving, can you hear me?'

'Nate! Shaky signal -- I'm about a thousand miles off Tuktoyaktuk heading west -- there are no discernable landmarks -- how do I know if I've flown right by you?'

That's what he'd set out to do was put down a beacon, but this damn desert was unforgiving. He'd have to try again somehow. He still had one eye working, even if it was encumbered with techno-organic virals. 

'I'm deploying the beacon now, tune in to our wavelength and it'll register. Dom? Keep looking, it'll come up in a few minutes. Tune in to 159.76. You still there?'

Static.

He cursed, and kicked the lump of insulated down at his feet, clambering around essentially in the dark and making sure he had at least the beacon and a shovel. His foot tread on something else, and he lent against the doorframe, bracing himself for a second bout of arctic courage. Not knowing where she was or how long she would take or even if she were going in the right direction would be mind-numbing. The whole idea was for the two of them to get in before the sun disappeared, as the astronomical twilight at Point Barrow dwindled to a few short hours at this time of year. Cable's safehouse here had no external lighting, and shining the flare up at a vacant sky in the dark was bound to attract all kinds of attention. Domino would have a hilarious time zipping this way and that in high winds with no LZ in sight and even less thermal protection on board. He tried to push those thoughts out. What is... is, he rationalized, ignoring the fact he was lacking one of his senses. His fingers activated the panel and the door zuh-zunged its way open knocking him back with the unleashing of the wind. His telekinesis kept most of the gale away, but stepping off the ladder while it shook reminded him how poor the upkeep of this, his most northerly hideaway, was, and how long since his last stay. The abandoned cheese in the fridge was cheese no longer. Why he would choose to store cheese let alone forget to take it with him when he left was one more thing to add to his paranoia of aging. He staggered about thirty metres outside, hearing his feet crunch solid mud when snow wasn't packing his ears, and stopped, very conscious of the fact he had to get back to a cabin he couldn't really see. Although the virus had partial command of the left side of his body he could still see out of his left eye, but with much of his concentration diverted to making sense of this nothing environment, the images being received were corrupted, ensuring a digital loss in whatever it did pick up. Cable unhitched the canister and set it in the ground, really forcing it hard and deep into the frosty earth. It wouldn't go in very well. He couldn't make out the imprint of the instructions next to the cap even though he'd fired more of these off than eaten hot meals. What a time for his wits to go walkabout. He might as well be a decaying octogenarian, sucking stewed carrots through a straw and drooling over Channel U dancers into a bib. Exhaustion bit him in the ass. 'Just fire, you bastard...'

Cold wind knocked him on it and he swore really loudly into the writhing maelstrom of white wind.

Blaquesmith's face came out of the mist of his troubled thoughts. Focus, it told him, focus, focus, focus. He bellowed inwardly, his Ben Kenobi Hoth vision not helping: he hadn't used those Askani teachings in a long time. The face and the words played again, a movie reel of memory flickering across his brain and kicking him up the backside. See with your thoughts, perceive with your perceptions 'not with the gel and the sinew of an enemy's clay' he intoned stubbornly. In other words, 'use your brain, not your eyes.'

'For they can be compromised' continued the incorporeal Blaquesmith, fading into the ether as clichéd as he'd come. His fingers found the tab, and he yanked it out, unsure of exactly how close Domino's ship would be. Would she see the signal hit the sky -- furthermore would it register on her radar? It always had in the past but recollecting the times he'd been in Point Barrow before, he either journeyed there with her or alone, never picking anyone else up and not having to worry about them none either. The beacon gave an audible blip and the top half skyrocketed away, the plume of chemical smoke instantly dispersed in the wind. Cable stood and made back for the safety of the cabin.

By the time he hit the steps the sun had gone down. He was still dazzled. He locked the door and sat down, wrapping himself up and sulking and setting the comm. device loud.

Sometime later he awoke to the smell of spitting fat. His thoughts turned to an infinitely colder and harsher landscape, dug in deep and surrounded by log-lined trenches and blue faces of friends not yet made. The sight wouldn't leave him -- he tried to open his eyes but it again was still there, unpleasant and shocking. His wife he saw, shaking with the permanent chill of Mali's nuclear winter and great great gauges of earth, drought-scarred and unnaturally shifted. The Pan-African vanguard, Gao City, heading east for Akkaba. He was twenty-nine. A long, long time ago.

'Where...?' He muttered, leaning off the fur-lined sofa.

There was soft music playing. Cuban. And the smell of sausages? He hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. Whenever that was.

Sight still hadn't returned, he groaned. But with the bionic eye images began to form, a serious orange glow to the right; he stared at the mesh fireguard and its dancing demons shining over the ceiling. He felt his bum. There was a slight bruise, nothing that would stop him sitting on it if the worst came to the worst. Ibrahim Ferrer soloed from the kitchenette. Footsteps -- a padding noise -- as two feet shuffled in well-shielded slippers around the stove and clicked in rhythm while the piano cha-cha'd. Cable flung the wrap away, aware now of the sweat inherent in whatever you wore in Alaska, and got to his feet. Her voice called out from beyond. 

'I'm ok,' he said 'but I can't see.'

'Lights on!' She chimed.

'No Dom,' he said, the cabin flooded with ambient yellow 'I can't see proper. I got white-out out in the snow.'

'Shit, are you ok?'

And then she was at his side, a palm touching the side of his face, flesh grazing grey stubble. Appropriate, he thought. 'What?' She said.

He must've had a funny expression on.

He heard her make a clicking noise with her tongue and then she wasn't next to him. 'That explains the mess then; I thought there was a reason but didn't really expect to hear you say that. White-out, hmm? God Nate, you're losing it.'

'Aw get lost Dom, I got confused when the comm. alarm went off and it's been so long since I was last here, I just forgot.'

She was in the kitchen again.

'Your opponent won't get lost Nate, why should I. You made a stupid mistake.'

She cracked an egg.

'Lay off will you, I'm getting old. I know it was dumb, give me a break.'

He heard her crack an egg. There was silence. The fire spit. 'Thanks for clearing up the ash.' Another egg cracking. 'How did you get in? I locked the door.'

She cracked another egg. 'Just how many eggs are you going to use? I need them for the rest of the week.'

'Two. Do you not want me to use them? There's a lot of protein --'

'I thought I heard you do three?'

Silence.

'Noooooo, I did two. Are you feeling alright?'

'Yeah... yeah. I'm fine.' His mind started to wander. 'How long have you been here? How long was I out?'

She appeared in the doorway again, a hazy form leaning on the drawers. 'I got in by our usual code -- the keypad under the cabin? Remember? I got in several hours ago and I don't know how long you've been out but its eight o'clock now. Why were you asleep?'

He heard her ticking off the points on her fingers.

'Tiredness I guess, I don't know... I think I'm just fatigued. My transport broke down in Hooper Bay and I had to stay in some shitty motel overnight. I think I must have been the only person awake at night; the doorman had to get out of bed. The milk burst as I was carrying it onboard as well, and then I had to clean it up...'

'Oh my god, it's a wonder you're still alive.' She was back in the kitchen again, the Cuban music very low now. 'You sound more and more like an old man every day.'

He fingered a rumple in the fur lining where his elbow liked to perch in front of the fire all those years ago. 'Oh for Christ's sakes Dom, give the old man speech a rest.'

She was at his side again.

'Sorry Nate, I'm only joking.'

The truth was he felt it coming. Not today. Not tomorrow, but soon. And yes, it scared the crap out of him. Not least because he wouldn't be around to protect the ones he loved. Sam, Roberto, Tabitha, his father Scott and Domino. Frailty was something weak, something he loathed, because if you had no-one else to stand up for you, you couldn't do it yourself. Sure he would always go down fighting, but they had to suffer a proportionate amount if you went down too. With age, that wasn't about to happen. Blaquesmith taught that with wisdom his understanding and application of his gifts would expand, but at heart Nate was a fighter -- between a boxer and a fighter a definite fighter - and testament to that behaviour, Nate had reverted from his Askani practices. Of course he didn't revile them, they were as much a part of his heritage as being an X-Man -- no matter how hard he had once tried to deny that -- but to lose one's interest in the reasons behind his abilities was just the same not trying to deny the abilities themselves. 

She patted his shoulder and smiled.

'How's about I serve up? You got a place to sit?'

'What is it with you?' He grinned. 'All these questions.'

She went back to the frying pan.

How could he have seen her smile?

All right she was right next to him, but on the right side.

What is... is

It must be his telepathy! That would be the reason why he wasn't woken up when she entered. Surely if it was anyone else, anyone he wasn't expecting, he would have shot up and shot out at them, but her activity had been so docile and familiar he had managed to sleep through it. Of course she had only cracked two eggs; he was registering her movements before she made them. Well, it looked like they had enough for the rest of the week then.

'Earth to Nate...' She chimed, clinking the bowls together.

'Did you turn the gas off?'

He 'saw' her roll her eyes, and in that great instant had such a yearning to reach out to her. That pale, comforting face, soft and pleasant like it had always been. Peculiar features, short hair big eye patch like an Orca. Or a Panda.

'What do you keep grinning at? In case you hadn't noticed the fire's low. That's not something to smile about in here. Why didn't you get artificial heating installed?'

'I did.' He shivered.

'Here,' he reached out to accept, 'eat this.' 

She knelt down and twiddled with the fireguard, rustling the logs and inciting a brighter glow. He pulled the fur wrap over his legs and sat on the sofa with the bowl in his lap.

'Thanks.' He said.

She shrugged.

'You can sit next to me you know.'

'I know.' She said, passing it off like it meant nothing.

She sat down and he presented the bowl to her. The fire spat again.

'Where's yours?' She asked.

He made a small noise. 'Oh for god's sake, Nate. Here, it's by your feet. Careful!'

She held it up to him. 'You almost knocked it over.' She said.

He kicked her foot with his, making what he thought was a smirk, but probably not pulling it off quite so well. The flames picked up, embers once red and old glowing brightly. 'Is your sight returning?'

'S'coming back slowly.' He could make out more definite lines the longer he stared.

'Can I have some of the blanket?'

He gave her more room and they sat for a moment watching the fire.

'Long way from Afghanistan, huh? Remember that? We had no cutlery there either.'

'Oh dammit.' He reprimanded himself. 'There's some in the second drawer down.'

She got up and went away.

'Er Dom, I dunno how clean it is...'

He felt silly. They were always so ambiguous.

'There's a corkscrew here.' She said. 'Wine? Do you have any?'

He visualised the receipt from the store in Hooper Bay. "Made with real Alaskan berries" it proclaimed. Why did he buy it again? The colour alone should have given him indication. 'This wine is yellow' he told the man. 

'I know.'

'What does it taste like?'

'You ever had --'

And no, he hadn't.

'That's what it tastes like.' And a smile and a nod and a why bother good day.

'Yeah,' he told Domino 'it's in the back of the cupboard up top.'

He heard her rooting around. Their dinner was going to get cold. No-one likes a cold sausage. 

'Shouldn't you keep this in the fridge?' She said.

'I read somewhere on there that it needs to be served at room temperature. I think that it might be close to what the temperature is in here.' He could make out the bowl now, fine lines returning.

'Yeah, I forgot, we're north of the Arctic Circle. What are we doing here again?' She chimed.

She sat back down with two large glasses in hand, pulling his mechanised wrist toward and placing the wine in it. The wrap was pulled over the two of them again.

He frowned nodding toward her, even though her heat touched his side. 'Sorry I dragged you into this. I could have called Scott. Quality father-son time.'

'Yeah, but you didn't Nate. Tell the truth, there's nowhere I'd rather be right now.'

He paused. She heard a small 'thanks' slip out from his mouth before she leaned in to kiss it.

He was still for a moment, then moved his head a little closer, warm lips pressing tenderly.

'Dom,' he said, resting his head against hers 'you're here for a week...'

'Then you better not do anything to piss me off...'

She nudged his face to an angle, nose to nose, and leaned in again. This time he was more receptive, fears put aside in place of trust and a passion for this woman he'd held for so long in check and only came out very rarely. Domino was his confidante, his partner, his sidekick. She was also his lover, but it only happened rarely. They had been in so many scrapes together. It wasn't necessity that brought them together, or the uncorking of a bottle 'Nate this wine tastes like shit' it was love and laughter, lust and longing. He wanted Domino because he was and always had been attracted to her. When she wore hot pants and a training bra, when she wore a wetsuit and a very big gun, when she donned a Parka and went ice-fishing. When, in the few short times they had slept together, he had seen her moan from pleasure and cry from joy, not shrapnel in the ass and the scream for a medic. She pulled back and took off the alice-band, and unzipped her thermal jacket. Her jet black hair flopped to the side and she ran a palm over his stubbled crown. 'I like you without your hair.' She purred.

He tried to study hers with his non-functioning eyes. He could sense her movements, and effectively see what she was emoting and therefore doing, but the light coming from the fire and reflecting off of her was so ill-defined that he may as well have been totally blind. He touched the side of her face with his right hand, calloused fingers flowing with the felt of her hair downwards, down over her black lips, swollen with a little more passion blood than usual, down beneath her jaw and to the nape of her neck.

'Your hands are freezing.' She said, shaking.

'I'm sorry.' He cursed inside. Why did they have to choose this as their nest for goodness sakes? Why did the two of them have to meet up at the edge of the world in order to sleep together? A place where, if you wanted a newspaper they didn't get one because no news would ever reach them. 

'It's ok,' she grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart, the zip of her jacket hitting his index finger 'I'll warm you up.'

He chuckled. 'Dom, I've got really bad circulation.'

'Jesus!' She shouted, tossing his hand away. He thought he had blown it, what a dumb thing to say. The weight shifted on the sofa and he was about to say something when the light in the room got brighter. There was an organic scraping along the stone and she put another giant log in the flames. She turned and ripped the fur wrap out his hands. Cable felt slow in the head. She grabbed his hand again and pulled him to his feet. 'Here!' She said, dragging him to his knees in front of the flames. 'Warm yourself up.' She took a few steps back from him, and as he gazed dumbfounded she proceeded to unzip her jacket the rest of the way. I realise you can't see this, she thought.

But he could, in her mind. So strong was that connection, he could see the purity and one-mindedness in her thoughts, the filth she was thinking, and the way it made her feel just to do it. Just to do it for him.

Domino was back on her haunches, staring at the zipper unconnected and pulling the jacket away from herself. She sank a big gulp from the tasteless wine and began to untangle the belt. Uncertainty reared. She almost stopped for second, eyes unable to meet Nate's gaze. Then she felt a tug at her waist. He couldn't see what he was doing, but decided to give it the old college try. She laughed sympathetically as he struggled, taking his cheeks in her hands and kissing him again and again, softly, sweetly. 'I can't see what I'm doing, Dom.' He said. She grabbed the poker and he sensed her movements. 'What are you gonna do with that?!'

She jabbed the fire rousing it until licks of orange spun and whirled up the chimney. 'Let me do it for you.' She said, taking her fingers to his and making them both take off her belt. She felt the fingers of his right hand. Clammy. Perfect. She worked on the zip of his thick fur-lined parka and hoisted it down, shoving it away from his shoulders in a frenzied movement. It landed on the sofa as she scrambled onto him, knocking them back and onto the mat. The fibres absorbed the heat from the fire, and Nate found himself sinking into his instinctual aura, his hands cruising over Dom's still concealed flesh and grabbing at parts of her he wouldn't normally hold. She was groaning, encouraging his movements, her own eyesight becoming hazy even in the boiling vivid glow next to them. She struggled with his fleece, the zip -- so many zips -- caught on the shirt underneath and being one of those sonofabitch types of garments that you can only get off over your head. She grimaced suddenly as his teeth sunk into her wrist, and she pulled it back to support herself while her knee dug into his crotch. She snarled, a fleeting motion of her waving hair dangling on his lips while he took a deep breath. 'Take off your damn clothes.' She demanded, biting her lip as his shin dragged up between her thighs. She shivered and bolted upright removing her own fleece and leaving her now in just a lime green t-shirt. She was almost grateful he couldn't see her wearing this, but his smile reminded her that what she perceived was what he could see in his own mind. And the way he was grinning as the fleece flew off she knew deep down it didn't look half-bad on her white skin. 


X-Men: Isolationism



Nate was naked on top now, and Domino forced him back down onto the fur with a deep desiring kiss, scratching with fingertips because she had no nails -- no use for them you see -- and feeling the sweat trickling down his arm. She stared at the left pectoral, shoulder and part of his ribs all showing a bright pulsating metal, that gleamed the most fantastic oil-slick of colour in the firelight. She was all at once frightened and fascinated. Each time she saw him like this, intimate and vulnerable, her heart went out to him and the level of pride she felt at knowing this man -- the worth of which went uncounted -- soared. He was probably the best person she had ever known. 'You're staring.' He said, trying to sound cheerful. She rubbed his chest in equal parts and leant back to peel off her t-shirt. 'I think you're wonderful Nate. I love you.'

He replied without hesitation. She let the shirt crumple on his shin and relaxed on top of him, straddling his stomach. His skin was lined. It was obvious. Frankly he was built better than most twenty-year olds. 

This was the part where he wished he had his eyesight back. She was playing with the buttons on her fly, this woman in her bra and open mouth hovering very thinly above his erection. She popped the first few buttons and spread the trouser flaps. 'What shall I do with you?' She wondered. 'God, if only you could see your face!'

He supposed he was looking bemused, his concentration diverted while the virus made him all sorts of emotions. 'Take off your trousers Nate.'

'You first.' He said, whipping his hands out to grab her wrists as she scribbled patterns in finger on his nipples. 

She cocked her head and stood up, the firelight illuminating her legs as less material showed and more flesh exposed. She had possibly the most perfect legs he had ever come across.

When they had pooled at her feet she said 'Now you.'

He sat up and took off his, just boxers. 

She took another swig of the wine and swallowed setting it back on the small mantelpiece. 'Get on your knees.'

He raised himself a bit and took firm hold of her calves, dragging his palms -- one cold, one incredibly hot -- up, up further past her kneepit to the backs of her thighs -- she shivered again -- and up until they hit the thin material of her thermal boxers. 'Didn't know I still got on two bits of clothing, and you just got one. You play by my rules.'

She stepped one foot onto the fireplace stone and wrapped one hand about the back of his shaved head. The heat was unbearable.

'You about know what I want baby.' She told him, bringing his face closer to the warm centre of her core where he could smell the wet arousal emanating. Her breathing became rapid, unfocussed. His fingers slid up and over the elastic of her underwear, dragging it down and inhaling her scent like the dew of a new spring. She was perspiring, the drips collecting at the nape of her back where his right hot hand lay, ready to cup her buttocks and press against her once he got to her pussy. She was begging with her body, the steel of his machine hand running cold knuckles down her abdomen, past her mound and then just dipping into the cleft of her thigh and downwards, baiting her glistening lips. She went dry-mouthed. Nate let her take control for now. Her boxers surrounded her ankles, and she braced her other hand against the mantelpiece, ignoring the flame licks. He rested his elbow into the side of her left thigh, knocking her forward an inch and bringing her closer to his mouth because, quite clearly, he couldn't see to lick her. She growled in frustration. 'Jesus Nate...'

His chin pressed just above her clit, rough stubble there too scratching her in delicate pain and anticipation. She moaned something fierce.

Metal fingers pressed up toward her opening, the cold wreaking havoc with her sensory perception. He pressed one final time with that hand behind her ass digging into her left buttock and lashing at her cunt with his thick tongue. She made an 'ahhhh' noise, holding shakily onto the stone fire and drawing her hand from the back of his head up to her own to suck on her fingers. She bucked a little, his tongue just beginning a relentless assault on her clitoris, surrounding it in a circular motion and angling just right that he licked her dark folds with the salty moisture leaking out. She made another loud noise, high-pitched. He looked upward slightly, lapping at her slowly now, getting the whole width of his tongue right in there, not leaving her clit for a second as she danced along with him, two left feet as she was his puppet. His right hand was dragging intrusively down near her anus, digging in hard and overriding, going further the little fingers oiled from her sweating lower back dangerously close to her labia her cries becoming insistent.

'Ah Holy shit Nate -- oh my god you are goooooodd at thisss.' Buckling more and more, a rising orgasm -- pent up and holy divine -- oncoming. He stuck a finger in her, sensitively at first while he lashed at her clit continually. She bent over, drawing fingertips in a scrape over his spine and keening like a cat rubbing its master's leg. The metal tickled her hot thigh, caressing the sweat down, coaxing a deep needy come from her tensioning belly. 'Ungh... Nate... unghhh Nate I'm gonna come I'm gonna come so hard...'

And he wouldn't leave her alone. His tongue moving, his finger driving up into her molten core, the duality of the hot and cold and all the while that constant seesaw on her tiny little clit poor thing feels like it's going to go nova, she tensed her belly hard, gripping his neck with a thick white fist and holding her face in a tight tight grimace as she found her orgasm ripping through her cunt and up and outwards in a wave machine action all at the same time. She panted and panted and panted, and Nate suckled and suckled until she stopped panting and he could stop suckling her. She buckled at the knees and fell into his arms, overpowered. 

He laid on her the fur wrap and she had strength only enough to pull him atop. He was very heavy, but he was a heaviness and a suffocation she was glad to have pinning her.

Her lips sought his and she tongued his mouth sloppily, dropping her head to lie and watch him.

'Oh god...' She sighed.

He picked at the bowls of food.

'Do you want a sausage?' He asked.

Her shoulders heaved and her face lit up but little sound came from lazy lungs.

Domino waved her head no.

'What do you want?' He asked.

'You,' she stated 'I want you.'

'What bit of me?' 

'I want your cock, Nate.' She smiled. 'Will you take me?'

'Oh my,' he said, laughing 'you want me to take you?'

She pushed upward, and he got off her, rendering him vulnerable to a push and shove and he was on his back, her hands either side of his chest and belly resting on his crotch.

'You've still got your clothes on, babe. That'll cost ya for not being fair.'

'You want to talk about being fair?' He asked as she made her way down, slipping fingers underneath his boxers. 'Fair is giving as good as you got!'

She paused, the elastic just covering the head of his straining erection. He still couldn't see, but you didn't even need to be a telepath to discern her next sentence. 'Oh, I don't know... you're going to get better than what you gave.'

'Tell you what,' he said, his voice going up as she handled his shaft and took the boxers down to his knees 'you make me scream like you did, and for the rest of the week I'll make you come twice a day like that.'

'Oh? And what makes you think I'll let you?' She replied, jerking his cock up and down and watching his jaw move as he spoke. 'And I did not scream!'

'You-ou-uuu' she sucked the tip in between her black lips '...will because you loved it so much. I know you Dom. Deep down, you're really dirty. And you're a screamer.'

She stopped her bobbing head for a second. 'You wanna hear screaming?' She engulfed his cock again, swallowing all the way and bit down at the base drawing her teeth up to the head and past it. Nate threw out a long yell as her hand frantically pumped him. 'I've been known to put men in comas.'

Her left hand slinked away from resting on his belly and snuck around and under his ballsack, tickling it lightly. 

'Yeah, but violence is not the same as -- ahhh -- ssssex.'

She scratched at his perineum coarsely and gave the underside of his thick cock a long long lick. He tasted of sweat and salt. He tasted of sexual man. She dispensed with their smalltalk bullshit and decided to make him come. 

'Oh yeah, I forgot who I was dealing with for a second...'

She raised herself on one elbow, jerking his cock smoothly, the wet of her mouth glistening like her cuntlips had moments ago, and spat down a glob of saliva which she spread about thickly, expediting her twist and pull. He moaned, a sound she heard rarely from his throat. She thought of how glorious it would be to swallow him whole, or be swallowed whole into his belly of metal and blood. She bathed his head with her tongue and bee-stung lips, moving her head again and again in rhythm with his vibrating hips. Her finger found the small spot behind his sack and dug in a little, making him jump. His cock went very stiff, and then relented to her throat muscles bending with each up and with each down. She wanted him in her mouth, the pulsing of his veins, the blood and the rush shooting down her throat so much of this moment she wanted all in one go and poor Nate was helpless to her charm. She pressed her middle finger against his asshole bobbing up and down all the time. He went very very stiff and made a noise -- mostly surprise. He was going to come soon, but with Nate it was difficult to tell as he was always quite quiet in the sack. 'Dom...' he whispered, finding it hard to hold back.

She mumbled something with his erection between her lips. He didn't hear.

'Let go,' she said, mouth off, working his shaft fast and slippery. He shut his eyes. He didn't want it to end, but she was making it and he knew it would feel so good, so amazing to come down her throat and then she was back on him the pressure build-up intense he was almost there she fit her finger back in his anus rushing him over the edge, he spilled into her closed mouth, leaking onto her tongue as she tasted his orgasm and then suddenly a massive shot which took her by surprise and she swallowed reeling off his cock but still jerking it. He jetted out once more, striking her astonished neck and shoulder, but thinking at the same time that it was really what she wanted anyway.

And he wasn't going limp -- trust her -- though his panting sure sounded like he was about to pass out; but given her reliance on things falling into place where she was concerned that was just what she wanted. She took off her bra exposing her silken breasts to the warm air of the dying fire and straddled him. Nate groaned and stared up, knowing what she and they were about to do but embracing it nonetheless. He felt for her strong white thighs, palming them with his hot and cold, and she lent down to smother him with her chest and cradle his head in her arms. There was an underlying tenderness to their actions, and the knowledge that come the following days in the week they would be repeating this courtship. But that was swiftly discarded as an animal lust took over, and Domino positioned herself over his groin and reached under to hold onto his still wet from her mouth cock. She slid it into her in one tight unified movement, and lay back on his chest to kiss him passionately. Her hands held his face, and he gripped her shoulder, her back, holding tightly onto her breast as she straightened and ground down further onto him and into her. 'Ah god...' she said 'this is how it's meant to be, babe. You and me. Always. Jesus, you feel nice.'

He didn't say a word.

The embers sparkled; a flame went up once or twice. It was starting to slow down. She perched her hands on his chest, fingertips outstretched as she leaned back, bending his cock toward his feet and tossing her head and black hair back in triumphant pose. Nate felt the weight of one of her hands gripping his kneecap while he sensed the dirt in her mind as she pinched and ravaged her own tits. He held onto her hip with the hot hand and placed the metal index and middle next to her thighs where her clit was exposed. 

'You bastard...' she drawled, eyes closed tugging at her left tit with her right hand.

He flicked a steel cold index over her angry nub eliciting a fantastic yelp out of her open panting mouth. 'Play with me Nate... make me come again, you're sooooo good at it.'

She ground her hips back and forth, letting him plunge into her cunt bruising her ass. He angled himself up, so their chests were in unison and continued tickling her clit with cold finger and sweating thighs whilst his other hand frantically crushed her nipples. She flicked her hair around and kissed him savagely wishing she could swallow his come all over again, and watched with delight as he licked the clear trail leaking down her left tit clean off and then kissed her with it still in his mouth. She bounced up and down, beside herself. His warm hand wandered around to her ass, stroking the flesh and moulding it roughly. 'Stick it in me, Nate...' she whimpered 'you -- ah-haaa-aaah -- you know you want tooooo' and he dug his middle finger in again, making her bolt upright and hump against him quicker and quicker until she went wild, squirming left and right and licking his face and neck as he ploughed all three parts of her raw with come-inducing speed and accuracy. She belted out noises, struggling on his cock and hugging him for dear life coming off the bullet-train to orgasm and spat out spittle over his shoulder not able to grip properly and pulling him toward her, on her back, lying down now his legs readjusted as he fucked the life out of her. Unable to speak except a low growl she stared with a look of disbelief on her face as he pistoned her cunt and held harshly onto her right breast while the left supported him mechanically. He was building up almost there, the sheer delight and surprise on her face driving him over the edge. She cradled his face with one hand, and reached down to stroke his digging erection with the other. He was so close he could make out her expression now. She was about ready to burst again. He tickled what part of her clit he could reach as she stroked him and with a howl to light up the Alaskan sky he came in her. She closed her eyes feeling him pump and pump and pump into her, mouth open swallowing his being well and truly whole, Nate coming into her. She lost herself and tipped into semi-consciousness as he rubbed her in a lazy circle. 

Sometime later, when the growing cold woke them up, Dom started the fire again. They placed the bowls of food, now cold by the side and waited for them to heat up again. It was beautiful to just sit and watch the uniqueness of the flames, and to know that they were there for each other on so many levels. In time, Nate's eyesight returned. He deemed it her good luck that there was something in the cabin worth watching.