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seriousficTitle: Five Times H.G. Wells Had Her Way With Myka Bering (And Myka Didn't Particularly Mind)
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,781
Notes: This story takes place after 2x07 – For The Team
Characters/Pairings: Myka/H.G.
Previous: Part 2
Next: Part 4
Summary: Helena finds an ingenious new use for her Imperceptor Vest. And Post-It notes.
It'd been a long day. Peter had been extra obnoxious over not getting to go on a mission, Artie had wanted countless details about her encounter with H.G., and Claudia was still doing victory laps over getting to go on assignment. Myka returned to the bed and breakfast just wanting to kick off her flats and let bed take her, Little Nemo style.
First, of course, she slumped down into her chair to write up her after-action report while the details were still fresh in her mind. She reached for her laptop and—
"Let me get that for you, dear," a voice said. Before Myka could move, her shoes and socks had been taken off, then her feet were soaking in a bucket of warm water. The suddenness of it all felt strange, then intoxicatingly pleasant.
Helena.
"Show yourself!" Myka ordered, grabbing the butt of her gun before she could stop herself.
"Sorry to startle you." Helena materialized, sitting on the end of Myka's bed, wearing the Imperceptor Vest. And not much else. "I thought you should get comfortable before we talk."
"Maybe I don't have anything to say to you."
"I doubt that." She blurred away again and Myka felt something like a strong, cleansing breeze move across her. When Helena was seated again, she was folding up Myka's suit jacket. "The way you shoved me against a wall, your hand at my throat… we really should have a safe word before we play that rough. Things could get out of hand."
"I can't trust you. I was reacting to neutralize the very possible threat you posed."
In the other room, the microwave rang.
"Ah. Drinks up." In another blur, Myka had her hand wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa. Helena smiled at her over her own cup. "Forgive me if you're on a diet, my pet, but you strike me as the kind of girl who possesses a sweet tooth."
"How's that?"
"You satisfy your own needs, even if others tell you they're bad for you."
Myka drank her cocoa. It did taste good. And the water feel good on her aching feet and the sex was great and none of it changed the fact that Helena had… saved her and Claudia's lives.
Myka swore inwardly. It sucked always having to be the mature one. If she were Pete, she'd just bang Helena and leave the mess for Pete-Myka to clean up. It'd be great.
"You disappeared," Myka said accusingly, but in a low voice. In between sips of hot chocolate. "For weeks."
"I needed to sort some things out."
"That's it? That's all you're telling me?"
"How much have you told me, Myka? You haven't said you're not ashamed of this. You haven't said you want to work with me. I don't even know your middle name."
"Trust me, you're better off."
Helena turned the cup around and around in her hands. "I realize how much I'm asking. I have looked into you, I'm not proud of it, but it's my nature. You've lost people."
Myka took a calm drink. She shut out her racing mind and concentrated on Helena's words.
"I know what it's like to have to go on. And I know how hard it is to make that same commitment. So, all I'm asking for is the tiniest, the most miniscule encouragement. Just enough so I can know I'm not dreaming this connection between us. I don't need flowers or chocolates. Just something to whet my appetite. Take the edge off."
"You talk like I'm a drug."
"Aren't you?" Helena shook her head. "I can't stop thinking of you. I do this against my own better judgment. You know how much I risk coming here? I could be bronzed again in a moment if I aroused your ire."
Myka sprang to her feet so fast she overturned the bucket. "I would never do that to you!"
Helena stood up as well. With the both of them barefoot, closing in on each other, it was hard for Myka not to notice how short Helena was compared to her. She felt like an orge, making Helena so nervous, even if that nervousness had nothing to do with physicality. "Then where do you want me, Myka? At arm's length? Or somewhere closer?"
"I don't know," Myka admitted. "I just… I do want you. Not to be bronzed."
Helena looked away, down at the water soaking into the carpet.
"And you would be a great asset to the Warehouse, again, you could help me, you could save a lot of people."
There was a note of disappointment in Helena's voice. "One of us had best tidy that up. I'd hate to throw a row between you and Leena."
"H.G.," Myka said uncertainly. "I'm sorry if I ever hurt you. I never meant for you to feel rejected. I just want things to go slower than they have been. For Christ's sake, the first time we met, you tricked me into fingering you!"
"I gave you an excuse to 'finger' me," Helena corrected primly. "And if you want me to go slower, by all means, name your speed."
Myka picked a piece of lint off the vest. Her hands slowly settled on Helena's shoulders, then slid along her slender but well-defined arms. She stepped closer. Her arms eased around Helena's body, wrapping together, then moving her in to tightly press together with her. Helena finally reacted, biting her lip, her eyes tugged to the line of cleavage revealed by Myka's shirt.
"I do owe you for the grappler," Myka said huskily, feeling Helena tremble to the sound of her voice. "What do you think a fair price would be?"
Helena let her face be buried in Myka's chest by her tightening grip. "Myka… my patience only goes so far… I do have a limit…"
"Do whatever you want to me. I won't say no. You know I won't."
Myka heard a faint growl from the depths of Helena's throat. As easy-going and poised as Helena could appear, the thought had occurred to Myka that she was the exception to Helena's fastidious nature… someone who prompted an intensity in Helena that even the woman herself couldn't control. She had no evidence to back the feeling, but she liked the idea. That she and she alone could complete Helena, driving them both to the ultimate pleasure.
Helena pulled her face away from Myka, looking up into her eyes like she was awestruck. Her voice came, breathy and heated. "For a hundred years I've dreamt of a woman like you. The intervals before weren't enough to satiate me. I stayed away, in part, because I didn't want to shock you with how… vulgar my needs are. I want you. All of you, everything you have to give. Ask me to take it. Ask me and I won't hold back."
Myka hesitated taking hold of Helena's face, spending a moment just gripping her tightly, as if assuring herself that Helena was real. The other woman looked up at her, eyes alive with want. Myka took a moment to stroke her cheek, reassuring them both, before kissing her.
It was like nothing Helena had ever felt before, or something she'd forgotten long ago, in bronze. Everything else, she'd taken from Myka. Bering had enjoyed it, wanted it, but there was a part of her that held back. This was freely given, and all the doubts Helena had had, about revealing herself, about going back to the Warehouse, about Myka… it took one moment to dispel them.
"I'm yours," Myka said, stepping back. "I can't say no to you. I wouldn't even if I could."
Helena adjusted a dial on her vest, smiling. "Oh, how I'll hold you to that."
Without any further warning, Helena disappeared. The next thing Myka knew, she was feeling the cool breeze of the building's air conditioning on her bare skin. Helena had stripped her naked in, literally, the blink of an eye. Helena was back in front of her, one finger outstretched for Myka's bra to hang from.
Myka put her hands on her hips, flagrantly displaying herself to Helena. Helena's wide-eyed gaze was almost comical. She'd seen Myka naked before, but a willingly naked Myka, whole-heartedly offering herself up… it was so much more than just tanlines and bare flesh.
"Yours," Myka mouthed, bringing Helena back to reality.
Another blur, and Myka could've sworn she heard a sonic boom as Helena picked her up and deposited her on the bed. For a moment, Helena slowed enough to take in the sight of Myka sprawled out under her, presented like a sacrifice on an altar, then she blurred again and Myka felt a weight, a heat, at her groin. It was like cunnilingus, but not the slow, drawn-out exploration she'd have expected from Helena. She was lashed, again and again and again, in the course of just a few seconds. Myka barely had time to moan before the first tone of pleasure had grown into an orgasm, and she spasmed as it worked its way out of her system.
Helena slowed, girlishly giggling as she wiped off her chin. "Aces."
Myka started to reply, but Helena blurred back down between her legs and the fiery sensation took hold of Myka again. The pleasure was almost painful in its intensity, Helena forcing the orgasm upon her. Her sheer powerlessness actually aroused Myka further—she was utterly Helena's, with nothing more to be decided but how much pleasure she could take.
Helena took a breath, her chin now dripping. "You taste wondrous, Myka. A succulent fruit it would be a sin not to consume. Tell me when to stop, my jewel. I don't know if I'd be able to stop myself!"
***
It could've been hours later, days, minutes. All Myka knew was orgasm after orgasm, the sheer ecstasy of it returning her to consciousness, then being dashed again by the next. Helena must've drunk ever drop of come in her. Her overstimulated folds had actually started to hurt, but not enough for her to ask for mercy. She relished being overwhelmed. It was only the rest of her, begging for the same treatment, that made her clasp a hand over her crotch, barring Helena's way.
"I need you," she panted, looking up at Helena. With her hair a mess, her eyes wild, and her lips glossy with Myka's juices, H.G. looked like some sort of wood nymph, a creature of unfettered nature, of sensual pleasure, come to the civilized world to have her way with a fair maiden. Myka wasn't a maiden, and the whole idea of wood nymphs seducing young women had always struck her as a bit creepy, but now she saw the appeal. "I need you all over me."
"Mmm." Helena ran her hand over Myka's body, noting the flush of her skin and the begging hardness of her nipples. "You do indeed."
She kissed Myka's breast a few times, enjoying the way it rose and fell with Myka's rushing breath, before sucking the nipple into her mouth. The experience was heavenly. Relief, and bliss, coupled with the fading ache in her groin—it transported Myka like an opiate. And that was before Helena blurred again, switching between breasts in an orgy of kissing, sucking, and biting, the sensations swirling together to drive Myka wild, pooling in the pit of her stomach before spreading to all parts of her. Myka had come without being touched below the waist.
Laughing, Helena rolled off Myka's saliva-slick cleavage and ran a finger through her nether lips, offering it to Myka. "You deserve to know how sweet you are, my rose."
"You're incorrigible," Myka griped, before obediently sucking on Helena's finger.
"Indeed I am." Helena rolled Myka onto her side, her next words hitting Myka's ear like a lightning strike. "I suppose it comes from always getting what I want."
"What do you want now?"
Helena reached past Myka, to a jar of lubricant on the bedstand. Strawberry-flavored. Like Twizzlers.
"I want you to come again."
***
Myka had very, very rarely done anything with her ass other than the obvious. She'd tried masturbating that way once, and actually enjoyed the slow sensation of being stretched and filled, but it was far too time-consuming to be part of her routine. When she was horny, she got off, nothing more.
Helena was the exact opposite. She actually slowed down for once, pressing herself to Myka, her legs warm and smooth intertwined with Myka's, the metal of the vest cold against Myka's back. Helena listened to every groan and hushed exclamation from her tightly-clasped mouth as Myka was penetrated, just one finger at first, then more, three, stretching Myka wide, filling her to the brim. When Helena took one finger away, Myka gritted her teeth the hardest. She'd been so close.
"As I said, Agent Bering," Helena breathed in her ear. "I always get what I want."
She blurred again. The long minutes spent on lubricating and opening Myka paid off, as she only felt the dullest of pain as she was fucked, hard and fast, Helena's entire body vibrating against her with the speed of the Imperceptor Vest.
Myka's eyes rolled back in her head as she started to come again.
***
She must have blacked out for a minute, because when she came to, Helena was in the bathroom, washing her hands. Helena looked through the ajar door, smiling at Myka with a fondness that barely suited how utterly (there was no other word for it) fuckable she looked naked.
"Strawberry lubricant. It just gets everywhere. I do wonder if you'll still be able to taste it on me next time."
"What if I want to taste it now?"
Helena blurred once before containing herself, then wiped her hands on the towel. "Now then. If this doesn't satisfy you, I fear nothing will."
That was the last thing Myka remembered. The rest of the night was impressionistic, as slippery as a waking dream. Her breasts were being sucked on, her cunt was being licked, her ass was being fingered, her lips were being kissed—all at once. All the sensations crowded her out, until she wasn't thinking, wasn't feeling, wasn't moving; she was just one big Myka-shaped erogenous zone, and Helena was fucking her.
At some point, she lost consciousness, but she wasn't aware of her orgasms stopping—if they could be called multiple orgasms and not one continuous climax. Her pleasure chased her into dreams, leaving her trembling in sweat and drool as Helena stood over her, her own lust finally satisfied.
Helena kissed Myka on the cheek as she began the slow process of coming down from her sexual high. "It was worth a hundred years in bronze to see you enjoy yourself that much."
***
This time, Myka didn't wake up until she heard Claudia knocking on the door. Only then did she notice the sunlight streaming in through the window and her clock radio playing U2. No wonder she'd slept in.
"What up, sleepyhead?" Claudia asked, poking her head in the door. "Artie wants to know if you want Pete to go alone to find Jenna Jameson's panties."
"God, no," Myka said, sitting up.
"Whoa!" Claudia shielded her eyes. "Pardon your cleave!"
Myka looked down. Although Helena had been considerate enough to tuck her in, her clothes were still MIA. She pulled the sheets over herself. "I… took a shower before bed and then I… was really tired, so I didn't… get out of my room."
"Yeah, sure thing Lady Godiva. What's that on your face, though? I'm curious."
Myka felt at her face. Post-It note. She ripped it off and turned it around.
Dear Myka,
I had to dash. Had a lovely evening. You seemed a little out of it towards the end, so in case you don't recall, I left a few reminders. Next time, let's make one of those new-fangled sexual tapes.
Yours truly,
H.G. Wells.
Claudia was still looking at her. "Goodbye, Clauds," Myka called.
Claudia rolled her eyes and shut the door behind her, muttering "Old people."
Myka rolled down her sheet. Post-It notes were stuck all over her body. She picked one off her breasts. Had the most delightful time wanking myself off on these. Truly spectacular, Ms. Bering.
She had a camera in her desk. If she hurried, she could photograph herself before showering. Then, when she got back from the mission…
How was it that just thinking about thinking about what Helena had done to her could make her tremble? It was like she was in love or something.
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,781
Notes: This story takes place after 2x07 – For The Team
Characters/Pairings: Myka/H.G.
Previous: Part 2
Next: Part 4
Summary: Helena finds an ingenious new use for her Imperceptor Vest. And Post-It notes.
It'd been a long day. Peter had been extra obnoxious over not getting to go on a mission, Artie had wanted countless details about her encounter with H.G., and Claudia was still doing victory laps over getting to go on assignment. Myka returned to the bed and breakfast just wanting to kick off her flats and let bed take her, Little Nemo style.
First, of course, she slumped down into her chair to write up her after-action report while the details were still fresh in her mind. She reached for her laptop and—
"Let me get that for you, dear," a voice said. Before Myka could move, her shoes and socks had been taken off, then her feet were soaking in a bucket of warm water. The suddenness of it all felt strange, then intoxicatingly pleasant.
Helena.
"Show yourself!" Myka ordered, grabbing the butt of her gun before she could stop herself.
"Sorry to startle you." Helena materialized, sitting on the end of Myka's bed, wearing the Imperceptor Vest. And not much else. "I thought you should get comfortable before we talk."
"Maybe I don't have anything to say to you."
"I doubt that." She blurred away again and Myka felt something like a strong, cleansing breeze move across her. When Helena was seated again, she was folding up Myka's suit jacket. "The way you shoved me against a wall, your hand at my throat… we really should have a safe word before we play that rough. Things could get out of hand."
"I can't trust you. I was reacting to neutralize the very possible threat you posed."
In the other room, the microwave rang.
"Ah. Drinks up." In another blur, Myka had her hand wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa. Helena smiled at her over her own cup. "Forgive me if you're on a diet, my pet, but you strike me as the kind of girl who possesses a sweet tooth."
"How's that?"
"You satisfy your own needs, even if others tell you they're bad for you."
Myka drank her cocoa. It did taste good. And the water feel good on her aching feet and the sex was great and none of it changed the fact that Helena had… saved her and Claudia's lives.
Myka swore inwardly. It sucked always having to be the mature one. If she were Pete, she'd just bang Helena and leave the mess for Pete-Myka to clean up. It'd be great.
"You disappeared," Myka said accusingly, but in a low voice. In between sips of hot chocolate. "For weeks."
"I needed to sort some things out."
"That's it? That's all you're telling me?"
"How much have you told me, Myka? You haven't said you're not ashamed of this. You haven't said you want to work with me. I don't even know your middle name."
"Trust me, you're better off."
Helena turned the cup around and around in her hands. "I realize how much I'm asking. I have looked into you, I'm not proud of it, but it's my nature. You've lost people."
Myka took a calm drink. She shut out her racing mind and concentrated on Helena's words.
"I know what it's like to have to go on. And I know how hard it is to make that same commitment. So, all I'm asking for is the tiniest, the most miniscule encouragement. Just enough so I can know I'm not dreaming this connection between us. I don't need flowers or chocolates. Just something to whet my appetite. Take the edge off."
"You talk like I'm a drug."
"Aren't you?" Helena shook her head. "I can't stop thinking of you. I do this against my own better judgment. You know how much I risk coming here? I could be bronzed again in a moment if I aroused your ire."
Myka sprang to her feet so fast she overturned the bucket. "I would never do that to you!"
Helena stood up as well. With the both of them barefoot, closing in on each other, it was hard for Myka not to notice how short Helena was compared to her. She felt like an orge, making Helena so nervous, even if that nervousness had nothing to do with physicality. "Then where do you want me, Myka? At arm's length? Or somewhere closer?"
"I don't know," Myka admitted. "I just… I do want you. Not to be bronzed."
Helena looked away, down at the water soaking into the carpet.
"And you would be a great asset to the Warehouse, again, you could help me, you could save a lot of people."
There was a note of disappointment in Helena's voice. "One of us had best tidy that up. I'd hate to throw a row between you and Leena."
"H.G.," Myka said uncertainly. "I'm sorry if I ever hurt you. I never meant for you to feel rejected. I just want things to go slower than they have been. For Christ's sake, the first time we met, you tricked me into fingering you!"
"I gave you an excuse to 'finger' me," Helena corrected primly. "And if you want me to go slower, by all means, name your speed."
Myka picked a piece of lint off the vest. Her hands slowly settled on Helena's shoulders, then slid along her slender but well-defined arms. She stepped closer. Her arms eased around Helena's body, wrapping together, then moving her in to tightly press together with her. Helena finally reacted, biting her lip, her eyes tugged to the line of cleavage revealed by Myka's shirt.
"I do owe you for the grappler," Myka said huskily, feeling Helena tremble to the sound of her voice. "What do you think a fair price would be?"
Helena let her face be buried in Myka's chest by her tightening grip. "Myka… my patience only goes so far… I do have a limit…"
"Do whatever you want to me. I won't say no. You know I won't."
Myka heard a faint growl from the depths of Helena's throat. As easy-going and poised as Helena could appear, the thought had occurred to Myka that she was the exception to Helena's fastidious nature… someone who prompted an intensity in Helena that even the woman herself couldn't control. She had no evidence to back the feeling, but she liked the idea. That she and she alone could complete Helena, driving them both to the ultimate pleasure.
Helena pulled her face away from Myka, looking up into her eyes like she was awestruck. Her voice came, breathy and heated. "For a hundred years I've dreamt of a woman like you. The intervals before weren't enough to satiate me. I stayed away, in part, because I didn't want to shock you with how… vulgar my needs are. I want you. All of you, everything you have to give. Ask me to take it. Ask me and I won't hold back."
Myka hesitated taking hold of Helena's face, spending a moment just gripping her tightly, as if assuring herself that Helena was real. The other woman looked up at her, eyes alive with want. Myka took a moment to stroke her cheek, reassuring them both, before kissing her.
It was like nothing Helena had ever felt before, or something she'd forgotten long ago, in bronze. Everything else, she'd taken from Myka. Bering had enjoyed it, wanted it, but there was a part of her that held back. This was freely given, and all the doubts Helena had had, about revealing herself, about going back to the Warehouse, about Myka… it took one moment to dispel them.
"I'm yours," Myka said, stepping back. "I can't say no to you. I wouldn't even if I could."
Helena adjusted a dial on her vest, smiling. "Oh, how I'll hold you to that."
Without any further warning, Helena disappeared. The next thing Myka knew, she was feeling the cool breeze of the building's air conditioning on her bare skin. Helena had stripped her naked in, literally, the blink of an eye. Helena was back in front of her, one finger outstretched for Myka's bra to hang from.
Myka put her hands on her hips, flagrantly displaying herself to Helena. Helena's wide-eyed gaze was almost comical. She'd seen Myka naked before, but a willingly naked Myka, whole-heartedly offering herself up… it was so much more than just tanlines and bare flesh.
"Yours," Myka mouthed, bringing Helena back to reality.
Another blur, and Myka could've sworn she heard a sonic boom as Helena picked her up and deposited her on the bed. For a moment, Helena slowed enough to take in the sight of Myka sprawled out under her, presented like a sacrifice on an altar, then she blurred again and Myka felt a weight, a heat, at her groin. It was like cunnilingus, but not the slow, drawn-out exploration she'd have expected from Helena. She was lashed, again and again and again, in the course of just a few seconds. Myka barely had time to moan before the first tone of pleasure had grown into an orgasm, and she spasmed as it worked its way out of her system.
Helena slowed, girlishly giggling as she wiped off her chin. "Aces."
Myka started to reply, but Helena blurred back down between her legs and the fiery sensation took hold of Myka again. The pleasure was almost painful in its intensity, Helena forcing the orgasm upon her. Her sheer powerlessness actually aroused Myka further—she was utterly Helena's, with nothing more to be decided but how much pleasure she could take.
Helena took a breath, her chin now dripping. "You taste wondrous, Myka. A succulent fruit it would be a sin not to consume. Tell me when to stop, my jewel. I don't know if I'd be able to stop myself!"
***
It could've been hours later, days, minutes. All Myka knew was orgasm after orgasm, the sheer ecstasy of it returning her to consciousness, then being dashed again by the next. Helena must've drunk ever drop of come in her. Her overstimulated folds had actually started to hurt, but not enough for her to ask for mercy. She relished being overwhelmed. It was only the rest of her, begging for the same treatment, that made her clasp a hand over her crotch, barring Helena's way.
"I need you," she panted, looking up at Helena. With her hair a mess, her eyes wild, and her lips glossy with Myka's juices, H.G. looked like some sort of wood nymph, a creature of unfettered nature, of sensual pleasure, come to the civilized world to have her way with a fair maiden. Myka wasn't a maiden, and the whole idea of wood nymphs seducing young women had always struck her as a bit creepy, but now she saw the appeal. "I need you all over me."
"Mmm." Helena ran her hand over Myka's body, noting the flush of her skin and the begging hardness of her nipples. "You do indeed."
She kissed Myka's breast a few times, enjoying the way it rose and fell with Myka's rushing breath, before sucking the nipple into her mouth. The experience was heavenly. Relief, and bliss, coupled with the fading ache in her groin—it transported Myka like an opiate. And that was before Helena blurred again, switching between breasts in an orgy of kissing, sucking, and biting, the sensations swirling together to drive Myka wild, pooling in the pit of her stomach before spreading to all parts of her. Myka had come without being touched below the waist.
Laughing, Helena rolled off Myka's saliva-slick cleavage and ran a finger through her nether lips, offering it to Myka. "You deserve to know how sweet you are, my rose."
"You're incorrigible," Myka griped, before obediently sucking on Helena's finger.
"Indeed I am." Helena rolled Myka onto her side, her next words hitting Myka's ear like a lightning strike. "I suppose it comes from always getting what I want."
"What do you want now?"
Helena reached past Myka, to a jar of lubricant on the bedstand. Strawberry-flavored. Like Twizzlers.
"I want you to come again."
***
Myka had very, very rarely done anything with her ass other than the obvious. She'd tried masturbating that way once, and actually enjoyed the slow sensation of being stretched and filled, but it was far too time-consuming to be part of her routine. When she was horny, she got off, nothing more.
Helena was the exact opposite. She actually slowed down for once, pressing herself to Myka, her legs warm and smooth intertwined with Myka's, the metal of the vest cold against Myka's back. Helena listened to every groan and hushed exclamation from her tightly-clasped mouth as Myka was penetrated, just one finger at first, then more, three, stretching Myka wide, filling her to the brim. When Helena took one finger away, Myka gritted her teeth the hardest. She'd been so close.
"As I said, Agent Bering," Helena breathed in her ear. "I always get what I want."
She blurred again. The long minutes spent on lubricating and opening Myka paid off, as she only felt the dullest of pain as she was fucked, hard and fast, Helena's entire body vibrating against her with the speed of the Imperceptor Vest.
Myka's eyes rolled back in her head as she started to come again.
***
She must have blacked out for a minute, because when she came to, Helena was in the bathroom, washing her hands. Helena looked through the ajar door, smiling at Myka with a fondness that barely suited how utterly (there was no other word for it) fuckable she looked naked.
"Strawberry lubricant. It just gets everywhere. I do wonder if you'll still be able to taste it on me next time."
"What if I want to taste it now?"
Helena blurred once before containing herself, then wiped her hands on the towel. "Now then. If this doesn't satisfy you, I fear nothing will."
That was the last thing Myka remembered. The rest of the night was impressionistic, as slippery as a waking dream. Her breasts were being sucked on, her cunt was being licked, her ass was being fingered, her lips were being kissed—all at once. All the sensations crowded her out, until she wasn't thinking, wasn't feeling, wasn't moving; she was just one big Myka-shaped erogenous zone, and Helena was fucking her.
At some point, she lost consciousness, but she wasn't aware of her orgasms stopping—if they could be called multiple orgasms and not one continuous climax. Her pleasure chased her into dreams, leaving her trembling in sweat and drool as Helena stood over her, her own lust finally satisfied.
Helena kissed Myka on the cheek as she began the slow process of coming down from her sexual high. "It was worth a hundred years in bronze to see you enjoy yourself that much."
***
This time, Myka didn't wake up until she heard Claudia knocking on the door. Only then did she notice the sunlight streaming in through the window and her clock radio playing U2. No wonder she'd slept in.
"What up, sleepyhead?" Claudia asked, poking her head in the door. "Artie wants to know if you want Pete to go alone to find Jenna Jameson's panties."
"God, no," Myka said, sitting up.
"Whoa!" Claudia shielded her eyes. "Pardon your cleave!"
Myka looked down. Although Helena had been considerate enough to tuck her in, her clothes were still MIA. She pulled the sheets over herself. "I… took a shower before bed and then I… was really tired, so I didn't… get out of my room."
"Yeah, sure thing Lady Godiva. What's that on your face, though? I'm curious."
Myka felt at her face. Post-It note. She ripped it off and turned it around.
Dear Myka,
I had to dash. Had a lovely evening. You seemed a little out of it towards the end, so in case you don't recall, I left a few reminders. Next time, let's make one of those new-fangled sexual tapes.
Yours truly,
H.G. Wells.
Claudia was still looking at her. "Goodbye, Clauds," Myka called.
Claudia rolled her eyes and shut the door behind her, muttering "Old people."
Myka rolled down her sheet. Post-It notes were stuck all over her body. She picked one off her breasts. Had the most delightful time wanking myself off on these. Truly spectacular, Ms. Bering.
She had a camera in her desk. If she hurried, she could photograph herself before showering. Then, when she got back from the mission…
How was it that just thinking about thinking about what Helena had done to her could make her tremble? It was like she was in love or something.
