Disclaimer:I do not own Sky High, its setting, premise, or characters -or related characters named and unnamed. All is the property of Walt Disney Pictures, Buena Vista Pictures, Andrew Gunn, and Mark McCorkie.

Between Peace and Battle

Chapter Seven: New Experiences

Again, it was the heat under the blankets that woke Battle in the morning. Mara's body radiating warmth like a roaring hearth.

With a bit of a frustrated groan, Battle kicked the comforter off the bed and cuddled up to her with only the sheet covering them.

She was still fast asleep. Laying on her side, back to him. Body curved and knees bent so that her tiny form fit against him perfectly. Like two puzzle pieces locking together. Or a small spoon resting inside a larger spoon. Battle nuzzled her red hair with his nose, with his thighs pressed into the swell of her ass. Waking up to a beautiful woman in the morning was the best feeling in the world, and he savored it.

Mara let out a cute little sleep-sound that was halfway between sensual moan, and sloppy, un-feminine snore. She rolled over, burying her face in Battle's chest hair. Her knees just barely missing his balls by centimeters. Waking up to a beautiful woman was great. Having her turn and almost kick you in the balls in her sleep… not so much.

"Are you gonna make me breakfast again?" He felt more than heard her mutter into his chest.

"You're awake?" Battle tried to look down at her, but all he got was an eyeful of bright red bed-head.

In answer to this question, one hand drifted down to grip his partially erect morning wood. Squeezing slightly and stroking gently to turn his 'partial' into a 'full'. "Something poked me in the back."

An embarrassingly loud moan escaped him. Her hand was squeezing just tight enough to make him feel enveloped, but not tight enough to cause discomfort. Her stroke, pulling his foreskin over his shaft in just the right way. Mara knew just how to touch him in all the right ways. Battle had to clench his teeth to stave off another moan. It came out as a heavy pant when he tried to speak again.

"Are you- ngh –gonna eat my cum again?" He managed to gasp out.

"That's depends…" Mara muttered into his chest, breath tickling his chest hair. "What do you have to serve it on?"

It was hard to form words with her stroking him like that. Her hand was warm and soft. Her movements measured and purposeful. Her body pressed against his… This was the fucking best way to wake up in the morning! But it also made forming sentences difficult. Battle had to give himself a moment to just pant and enjoy her attentions for a moment before his brain would allow him to answer her question.

"Leftovers from last night's dinner." He informed her, voice thick and heady. A sexy bedroom voice, that sounded out of place and wasted on a mundane and domestic statement about breakfast.

"Aw…" She sounded disappointed. "Last time you made me pancakes."

"Ngh…" To spite her apparent disappointment, her hand did not stop its motion and Battle had to grit his teeth against the sensation to inform her. "Last time I did not have a refrigerator full of food that needs to be eaten. For breakfast, we're gonna have leftovers. If you're still here around lunch time, that will also be leftovers too. Tonight's dinner will be leftovers again. I'm not in the habit of wasting food, and you shouldn't be either."

"Wow."

Her hand didn't just stop. It left his dick entirely.

Mara climbed out of bed. Apparently, the sexy play was over.

What- what had just happened? Why did she stop? Was she mad at him or something? Disappointed that he wouldn't make something new for her when there was already plenty of ready-made and perfectly edible food in the kitchen? She was an intelligent woman, she had to understand that it was wasteful to ignore leftovers and keep making new food.

Battle just stared at her as she reached a hand to fish around the pillows for her discarded panties.

"You sound like my dad." She informed him.

Oh. Well, that wasn't sexy at all. Battle totally understood her not wanting to stroke his cock while he was delivering dad-lectures.

She found her panties and pulled them on over her wide hips.

"I think your dad and I would have gotten along." Battle said, not actually meaning the words.

As a general rule, he did not get along with many people. He was standoffish and aloof the vast majority of the time, and occasionally outright hostile. Definitely not the kind of attitude one wanted to have when dealing with the father of the woman you were fucking. Luckily for Battle, Burnhawk was dead and there was no way to know how they would have gotten along. Battle could say literally anything about a hypothetical relationship with Mara's father and there was no way to prove it wrong.

"Ugh. You would have." She groaned. "Dad got along with everyone! Even some of the villains in his rogues gallery liked him. You know that some of them sent him holiday cards from prison! Very respectful, hand made, secular cards. Because they knew he didn't celebrate Christmas."

Sitting up in bed, Battle just blinked at her. His father had been a hero too, but Paladin never got any kind of greeting cards from any of the people he put away.

"How did they get the cards to your father?" He asked. "I can't imagine any hero –no matter how naïve and trusting- giving away their home address to enemies."

Just as these words were leaving his mouth, Battle remembered that Mara had given him her real name, phone number, and home address the first time they met. She was a hero. She gave a villain all the information he needed to murder her and her whole family. But Mara didn't know he was a villain then. Surely Burnhawk wouldn't give out that information to people he knew were villains! People he fought. People he put away.

"Oh, no, no, no." Mara was quick to assure him, shaking her head. "They sent them to a police prescient in East Ridge. My parents were never big name, or famous heroes. They're 'friendly neighborhood' types. Most of their rogues came from the same –or surrounding- neighborhoods. There's only, like, five or six precincts in all of East Ridge."

Battle just continued to stare at her.

"C'mon, don't look so surprised." She scoffed. "I'm sure loads of heroes get thank you letters and greeting cards from rehabilitated villains."

Battle didn't socialize with many heroes –none, actually, aside from Mara- but he was pretty sure loads of heroes did not receive thank you letters and greeting cards from their villains. Letter bombs, maybe.

Not wanting to make an argument out of it, Battle climbed out of bed. "I better start heating up your breakfast."

Crossing the room to his dresser, he pulled out a pair of fresh, clean sweatpants. Battle felt the heat on his shoulder before a strand of Mara's redder-than-red hair fell across his field of vision. He looked up to see her hovering over him, peering down at his clothes.

"Do you wear anything other than black?" She asked.

His underwear was black. His sweatpants were black. His leather jacket, jeans, and band shirts were all black. His super costume was black.

"My jacket on our first date was red." He told her, remembering the burgundy blazer he'd worn to impress her. Battle liked that blazer. He thought it made him look like a secret agent.

"Dark red." Mara scoffed. And his dress shirt, slacks, shoes, underwear, and socks had all been black. "Do you always dress like a villain? Like, do you even have villain pajamas?"

Of the two nights she spent with him, Battle hadn't worn pajamas. So it was a valid question.

Battle pulled on the sweats he'd taken out. "What are 'villain pajamas'?"

Mara floated around to sit in front of him on his dresser. Crossing one leg in front of the other so that little triangle of fabric disappeared behind olive skin. If it weren't for the lace straps, one could easily believe she was naked again. "I donno." She said, leaning forward into his personal space. Her face close to his face. Lips almost brushing his chin. "What do villains wear to bed?"

"What if villains don't wear anything to bed…?" He breathed back.

Eyes lowering slowly, then, just as slowly coming up again, Mara gave his body a hungry look. She slipped one hand inside the waistband of his sweats and pulled him close to her. So close, his knees banged into the dresser. "I think I like villain pajamas."

With a hand under Mara's chin, Battle tilted her face up. He leaned down and for the first time Battle initiated a kiss. A real kiss. Not the modest and chase brushing of lips against lips that he'd given her in the park. This time his mouth was open, inviting her in. There was no hesitation when her tongue slithered out to explore him, he slid his tongue along hers.

Mara was the first to pull away. "That was nice. But maybe we should brush our teeth before kissing first thing in the morning."

Battle flushed with embarrassment.

Lifting back up off the dresser, Mara floated over him to her duffle bag and purse –both of which had been left on the floor at the foot of the bed. She reached an arm inside her purse, fishing around inside it. She pulled out her superhero costume, wallet, keys, chapstick, lipstick, makeup compact, breath mints, a granola bar, mirror compact, tampons and sanitary napkins, a stick-pen from a bank, band-aids, a travel package of tissues, Walkman and headphones, hand lotion, hand sanitizer, perfume, hair scrunchy, and a fresh pair of clean panties, before she finally pulled out a toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, deodorant stick, and a travel bottle of facial cleanser. She set the toothbrush, paste, deodorant, and cleanser to the side and shoved everything else back in the purse.

Battle stood staring. Marveling at everything she carried around with her in that giant thing. She had everything in there but a kitchen sink.

Scooping up her toiletries, Mara exited the bedroom.

Still in a bit of an awestruck daze, Battle followed her into the bathroom. "I do have toothpaste and soap here, ya know."

"I never said you didn't." She called from the bathroom, already laying out her toiletries next to one of the sinks –next to Battle's sink. The condo was a two bedroom one bath, but it was a large bathroom with a whirlpool bathtub (the kind with jets like a Jacuzzi), and twin 'his and her' sinks. In all his years living in the condo, Battle had never used the second sink. Now there actually was a woman in his bathroom, using the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth, and she was using the wrong sink!

Mara spit out a mouthful of frothy toothpaste. "Aren't you gonna freshen up too?"

"I'm waiting for you to finish." He told her honestly.

She looked confused. "There's a second sink."

"Yes, but this one's mine." Battle told her, resting one hand on the counter close to the rim of the basin. Almost possessively, like he was marking his territory or something.

Cupping both her hands under the faucet, Mara raised handfuls of water to her mouth and rinsed. Swishing the water around in her mouth until she was confident she'd gotten all the pasty froth off. Then spat. She used one of his fluffy black hand towels to dry her mouth with.

"I didn't realize a bathroom sink was such a big deal." She offered a teasing smile.

Face freshly washed, Battle could see what she was talking about the previous night. Looking closely, her olive skin was not as perfect and blemish free as it looked on their dates, in the dim light of a bedroom, or when she was in her hero costume. She didn't have any freckles. Or tan lines around where she wore her mask. But there were spots and marks. Not from sun damage. Scars. Small, dot-like scars, from acne. Just like she said.

"What's wrong?" Mara asked when Battle had stared at her for longer than would be considered normal. "Did I miss a spot? Is there still soap on my face?"

"No, I-" He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. This was probably his first time actually seeing her without makeup. Her skin wasn't flawless, her eyes weren't actually that big, her lashes weren't as full as they looked, and her lips weren't as pouty. Mara Peace looked kind of… plain.

But it was a natural plainness. It made her seem more real. Less like the mythic 'ideal woman', and more like a real person. Someone he could touch, and feel. Someone who lived a life and worked a job. A real person.

"Sink's free now." Mara told him, moving out of the way.

She stood to the side and leaned against the counter.

"Are you just gonna watch me brush and wash?" He asked, feeling self-conscious. He was not very graceful when it came to washing his face, and splashed water and soap all over the counter.

"You watched me brush and wash." Mara informed him. "It's only fair."

Yeah, but she was graceful and pretty. He was a sloppy mess.

Mara crossed her arms under her breasts and lifted her chin, urging him on. A clear indicator that she wasn't going anywhere and he better wash up or else no more kissing.

Suppressing a groan, Battle turned the water back on and splashed his face. He grabbed his own soap and rubbed it directly onto his face. The rough shadow of his morning facial hair helping to lather.

"Bar soap?" Mara sounded almost judgmental.

"I'm not fancy." He told her.

Setting the bar down, Battle rinsed his hands so that they weren't slippery when he opened the 'His' medicine cabinet and pulled out his razor. An old fashioned straight razor with a white stag-horn handle. Using the bar soap in place of shaving cream, Battle dragged the razor across his skin. Shaving off the course shadow, smoothing down his cheeks and chin. He felt a little nervous with Mara watching him and Battle wasn't gentle. He cut himself more than he usually did, coloring the soap pink and red with his own blood.

Lucky for him, he healed fast. By the time he dipped his face down to get closer to the faucet and splash water to rinse, the cuts were completely healed.

He chanced a glance at Mara to see what she thought. If she was disgusted. If she thought he was gross. Shaving was not sexy. Shaving was not hot. Shaving was not attractive. The results of personal hygiene and grooming were very pleasing, but the processes themselves were not.

But Mara did not look disgusted. In fact, she looked curious. Interested.

Still feeling awkward, Battle reached for his toothbrush. Wetted it. Put paste on the brush. Then wetted it a second time. Then felt stupid because he had an audience and she just watched him wet his toothbrush twice. He continued to feel self-conscious as the paste frothed in his mouth, oozed out from the corners of his mouth, dripped down his freshly shaved chin into the sink. He was sloppy. Mara probably thought he was gross.

Finally, he rinsed, spat, and looked back up at her.

Mara did not look disgusted like he expected.

Instead, she closed the space between them, leaned up –floating a bit to compensate for their height difference- and pressed her lips to his. Mouth open. Tongue sliding in. Her toothpaste had been cinnamon flavored while Battle's was spearmint. The two flavors mixed oddly together, but it was still much more enjoyable than their morning breath had been.

"Much better." Mara muttered when their lips parted again.

Battle nodded. Kissing after freshly brushed teeth was much, much better than kissing first thing in the morning before brushing their teeth.

"Now, I… don't wanna sound rude when I say this, but… can you leave?" He asked. "The bathroom. Can you leave the bathroom? I need to pee and while shaving and brushing teeth is one thing, I don't think we're quite there yet."

"Bashful bladder?" She teased.

"Out." Battle snapped.

She giggled when he shut the door behind her.

Battle wiped down the counter. Cleaning up all the soap and droplets he spattered around. He scooped his shavings out of the basin before they could go down the drain. The sink and surrounding counter looked show-room new before he turned around to lift the toilet seat to pee.

When he emerged from the bathroom, hands well washed and as showroom clean as everything else in his home, it was to find Mara sitting at the kitchen bar. An open tupperwear container in front of her. A fork in one hand. A ball of flame in the other. It looked like she was grilling a bite of vegetable over her fire. Warming one side while all out blackening the other.

"Are you using your superpowers to heat up the leftovers?" He asked, coming up beside her. That was definitely what it looked like.

"I couldn't find your microwave." Mara said by way of explanation.

"I don't have one." Battle informed her. "I cook my food. Like people are supposed to."

She sighed, shaking her head. "You are so weird." And popped the bite of burned vegetable into her mouth.

Taking one of the baking dishes from the previous night out of the dishrack, Battle scooped the vegetables she was eating out of the tupperwear and into it. He then turned on the oven and popped it in.

"I was eating that." Mara informed him tersely.

"You'll like it better when its warmed properly." He promised her. For himself, Battle took out the second steak and threw that in as well. Just setting the meat directly on the oven rack, no pan or dish under it.

Mara flexed one arm, the whole limb erupting into bright red flames. "I'm perfectly capable of warming my own food."

"You were burning it." Battle pointed out.

"So?" She did not seem to think this was a problem. "That just means its cooked."

Battle did not realize it until she said it, but those words were an offense to everything he'd been raised to believe about domestic living. Burned food was not 'cooked', it was 'burned'! Blackened charcoal. Stripped of all its nutrients and returned to base its base carbon. Its only redemption to be ground down and used as mulch in his mother's herb garden.

"Barron, are you mad?" She blinked at him. Mara couldn't decide if the odd expression on his face meant he was about to kick her out in a rage, or break down and cry. He looked so offended, but also disbelieving.

"I…" He didn't know what to say. Battle didn't even know what he was feeling.

Not wanting to wait for him to sort himself out, Mara hopped off the stool she was sitting on and stretched. "Well, so long as you're holding my breakfast hostage in the oven… I think I'll take a shower. You sweat a lot and I'm all sticky."

"I don't sweat a lot!" Battle was almost insulted. "You're just too fucking hot!"

"Aw… thank you." She smiled at him, changing her posture so that her weight was redistributed, sticking one hip out. Drawing attention to her curves. Making her look more feminine, attractive, and… sexy. "You're pretty hot too."

He flushed at the complement. Sure, he'd been told he was attractive before. And maybe he believed it was true. After all, the life he lived and the job he worked required him to stay fit. More muscle than fat. He had a generous amount of hair on his chest without being too hairy. Other bed partners in the past had compared him to Tom Sellick without the mustache. So, yes, Battle was aware that he was an attractive man.

But he'd spent the vast majority of his formative years –his high school years- being made fun of for the way he looked. Being called 'four eyes' on account of his glasses. Being called a girl or a fag because of his long-ish curly hair. It was a type of conditioning that still made Battle blush when he was given an honest complement. He didn't know how to take a complement. Even now that he was in his mid-twenties.

"I- I meant your body produces a lot of heat." He felt the need to clarify, even though he was also pretty sure she already knew what he meant.

"And your body produces a lot of sweat." She repeated. "Now I'm all sticky."

Without waiting to see if he had a comeback, Mara turned. Crossing the living room again on her way back to the bathroom. She stripped off her panties as she moved, leaving them on the living room floor where they dropped. Mara didn't even look back to see where she left them before shutting the bathroom door behind her. Battle heard the shower turn on and figured Mara would not be coming back out for her underwear.

Crossing the living room, Battle picked up her discarded panties. He cast another assessing glance at the bathroom door. The door was shut firmly and the shower was loud. She probably had the water turned up all the way. She was not about to burst out and demand her panties back. Battle carried the item into his bedroom. Opening a drawer in his bedside table, he deposited the used panties right next to her black lacy number from their first date six months ago. She brought a fresh pair with her in that absurdly huge purse, he saw them when she practically emptied the thing looking for her toothbrush. She wouldn't miss this one, just like she didn't miss the black lacy one.

His treasure safely hidden in his hoard, Battle went back to the kitchen to check on the food he was re-heating. It would be incredibly embarrassing if he burned the food after making a big deal over cooking it properly.

He turned the vegetables to make sure they were heated evenly. Then checked his steak to make sure it too, was being warmed properly.

When he was satisfied that everything was warmed to an edible and pleasing temperature, Battle turned off the oven and left the food in it to retain its heat. He then cast an assessing glance across the living room to the bathroom door. It was still closed and the shower was still going. Would it be inappropriate if he invited himself in on Mara's shower? He liked to be clean just as much as she did.

Opening the bathroom door just a crack, Battle poked his head in. The whole room was filled with steam. His glasses fogged over and Battle had to take them off to see. It was incredibly hot. Did she even use the cold water tap?

"May I join you?" He asked.

"Sure!" Mara called over the sound of the spray. "If you think you can handle the heat."

He slid off his sweatpants, perhaps a little too eagerly. Pulling back the shower curtain, Battle stepped one foot under the spray and quickly realized that, no, he could not handle the heat. She did not use the cold water tap at all. It wasall hot water. Scalding hot water!

"Holy fuck!" He exclaimed, jumping back. He might have slipped were it not for the bathmat covering the floor tiles.

Mara gave another one of her snort-laughs. "I warned you, fire users like it hot."

"And I told you, you're just too fucking hot." Battle shot back.

"Aw… the big bad supervillain can't handle a little bit of heat." She teased him.

Turning off the water, Mara stepped out of the shower. Her redder-than-red hair clinging to her neck and shoulders. Curving over her collar bones to frame her small breasts. Droplets of water dripping from the fake gold of her nipple piercings.

"You kept your hardware in, in the shower?" He said, hoping curiosity about her piercings would hide the fact that he was staring at her breasts.

"Yeah." She nodded, grabbing one of his black bath towels. She dabbed her face with it before flipping her wet hair and wrapping the towel around it. She looked back up at him. "Ya know, this is the second time we've spent the night together, and yet you haven't grabbed my boobs once."

"I… My hands were tied both times." He reminded her.

"How rude of me." Mara muttered. She grabbed both his hands and guided them up to her breasts. "We'll have to change that."

Battle stood there, his hands resting where she placed them, exactly how she placed them. Barely cupping her breasts. Wet against his skin and warm in his hands. So warm. They didn't quite fill his hands. They weren't that big. But they were perfectly shaped. Round and perky. With dusky nipples that were only sticking out because the piercings made them.

"Or maybe you just don't care about my boobs that much." She said when he still didn't move his hands to start fondling them. "After all, you're more of an ass man."

"I like breasts too." He told her.

He just couldn't stick his cock in breasts, so they were less exciting than other parts of the female body. Battle gave her breasts a gentle squeeze. They were so soft! Battle moved his hands, so that he could touch the barrels through her nipples. But paused just short of his fingers actually brushing the metal.

"Is there a way I'm supposed to touch these?" He asked. "So I don't hurt you."

"Just don't tug on them." Mara ordered. "They're going halfway through a very small and sensitive part of my body. Even a mundane with no superpowers could rip them out if they pull hard enough. That's why I got barrels instead of rings. People just seem to instinctually tug on rings, barrels not so much."

He moved his hands back away, not wanting to hurt her accidentally.

"I like it when they're twisted." Mara informed him.

Still moving hesitantly, Battle moved his hands back to her nipples. Taking them between his fingers, he gave a gentle little pinch, then a slight twist. Turning the piercings to the side like the dials on his car stereo.

Mara gave a soft moan. More of a sigh, really, and leaned in closer to Battle. "You can be a bit rougher, ya know."

He twisted them farther. Almost a complete circle. Stopping when her soft intake of breath turned into a hiss between her teeth. Battle let go of her breasts completely.

"I didn't use the safe word." She informed him, sounding disappointed.

"It looked like I was hurting you." He informed her.

"If you were hurting me, I'd use the safe word." Mara reminded him tersely. "That's what its for. Gosh, you have so much to learn, Bambi."

She brushed past him and out of the bathroom.

"I'm not a Bambi!" Battle called after her, following her –also naked- back across the living room and into the kitchen.

Mara sat back down at the kitchen bar and pulled the –still hot- dish of vegetables to her. Not even bothering with the pretense of a potholder. Fire users liked it hot, so why would a burning hot baking dish harm her?

"No, of course you're not a Bambi." Her words seemed to agree, but her tone was patronizing. "You're just a guy who lost his mother at a young age, still has a lot to learn about things –apparently- and quivers like a nervous baby deer whenever confronted with something new." She smiled over a bite of vegetable. "Bambi."

Battle frowned. It was starting to look like he might be stuck with that nickname for the whole of their relationship. Should he just get used to an attractive, naked, woman calling him Bambi semi-regularly?

Not knowing what else to do, Battle pulled down a plate from a cupboard and served himself his meat like a civilized person. Mara might be fine eating straight out of the baking dish, but he was raised differently. He set down at the kitchen bar next to her.

Mara shifted her position on the bar stool so that her thigh slid against his. "So, what'd you have planned that would keep me here all day?"

"Huh?" Battle blinked sideways at her through a mouthful of steak, not understanding.

"You said lunch would be leftovers, and dinner too." She clarified. "So, what are we gonna be doing that's gonna keep me here all day?"

Battle swallowed the bite in his mouth and cleared his throat, well aware of the fact that they were both still naked and her thigh was pressed against his. "Well, what did you have in mind?"

She rested her chin in her hand, as if in thought. "Well… I didn't bring any spare clothes, so whatever we do, it'll have to be some place with an easy dress code."

"I think we've got a pretty easy dress code right here." He told her. "But I don't have any board games or anything. If we're gonna spend the day inside, we're gonna have to find ways to entertain ourselves."

"Mm, what ever shall we do…?" One hand drifted down from the bar to rest softly on his leg.

Battle felt his face warm and knew he had to be blushing again. He really had to stop doing that. He was never going to shake off the 'Bambi' nickname if he kept blushing like an innocent school boy every time she made an advance. Slightly flustered, and not knowing what else to say, Battle just blurted out a response. "Dishes!"

"What?" Mara blinked at him, not understanding.

"We could do the dishes." He clarified.

She just continued to stare at him. "Are you… for real?" Dishes were not sexy. Washing dishes was not sexy. That was nobody's kink. Well… maybe it was somebody's kink. But not hers.

Battle nodded, then quickly wolfed down the rest of his steak and got up to put his plate in the sink. He then eyed the baking dish she was eating directly out of. "Are you done with that?"

The whole moment feeling rather surreal, Mara slid the dish across the bar to him. "Do you have some sort of compulsive disorder or something?"

"What? No." Battle assured her. "I just think it's better to do the dishes right away instead of letting them sit in the sink. Can't have fun sexy times if there's a sink full of dirty dishes just a few feet away, stinking up the place, and attracting flies."

He began scrubbing the baking dish vigorously.

Mara watched him. The way the muscles in his arms rippled under the skin, how hard was he scrubbing that dish? Not a compulsive disorder her ass! But there actually was something nice about an attractive –naked- man washing the dishes. The image actually did appeal to her. Not on a sexual level –although the fact that he was naked was testing that- on a more chase, but equally base level. Something just a hair more domesticated than her 'primal' level. It was nice having a man do the cleaning.

And he must clean a lot. His apartment looked spotless. The only thing out of place in the whole of the living room was her dress which they left crumpled on the floor from the previous night. Everything else was neatly organized. Books on shelves and organized by author. Floor clear, and carpet vacuumed. Furniture arranged at right angles. Coffee table polished to a shine. Battle's home looked like it was professionally cleaned. Mara always just assumed he paid for a cleaning service. After all, he clearly had the money. But after watching him scrub furiously at the dishes, almost as if someone's life depended on them being clean, she decided that no, he probably kept this whole place clean by himself.

"You can dry, if you want." He told her, holding up the dish he'd just finished rinsing so well that it looked department store new.

In a bit of a daze, Mara took the baking dish in her hands and lit them on fire.

Battle blinked at her. The dish was dry now, all the water having evaporated off. But where she held it were now soot blackened finger prints.

For half a second, Mara was concerned he might be angry with her. This seemed like something that was more important to him that just having clean dishes and an empty sink. But to her surprise, he didn't look angry, Battle looked like he might cry.

He held his hand out to take the dish back. "There's a kitchen towel hanging on the oven handle."

She grabbed the towel and dried off the plate while he re-washed the baking dish.

When everything was clean to his satisfaction, dried and put away, then Battle finally allowed them to move back to the living room and relax. Flopping down on the couch together.

Mara cuddled up close to him, running a hand over his chest. Petting his chest hair. "Did you have an activity planned for after dishes?"

He wrapped an arm around her. Running his hand over her shoulder, and down her arm. Around her breast to brush her piercing. "Whatever you're up for, I suppose…"

She cuddled closer to him, draping one leg over his knees, almost crawling onto his lap. "Just a lazy Saturday in."

Her thigh was just barely brushing his cock and Battle suddenly found it very distracting. "Mm, yeah… lazy…"

"Just an easy day…?" She trailed her fingers in circles over his chest, making patterns in the hair. "Nothing too… strenuous…"

"We could-" Battle began to suggest but them stopped himself. He wasn't sure if Mara would actually be down for what he had in mind. Last night she said 'not yet', but 'not yet' did not mean 'in the morning'. 'Not yet' meant 'when I am comfortable with it'. Battle was hesitant to suggest what he wanted.

"What?" Mara prompted.

Battle felt himself flush with embarrassment. "We could- if you want –try… that thing I pulled out the lube for."

She sat up, blinking at him. "Right now?" Now she was blushing almost as much as he was. "In my ass."

"I wouldn't put my dick in your ass today." He assured her. "If you've never done it before, we'll have to train your ass first."

Looking equal parts uncomfortable and concerned, Mara scooted back from him. "Train? What does that mean?"

"Stretch." He clarified, feeling just as uncomfortable as she looked. "An ass isn't like a pussy. I can't just get it wet and shove my dick in. We need to train it to stretch first otherwise something might tear."

"I… see…" She looked less concerned. He was approaching this responsibly and with care, like all sexually deviant or possibly dangerous (read: fun) sexual kinks. Just like she did with tying him up. Consent and care. "And so, what do we start with?"

Battle smiled, almost giddy. He was not expecting her to be okay with it. Not so soon. He practically leapt off the couch with excitement. "I'll grab the lube!"

The collection of bottles and tubes from the previous night was still sitting on the bedside table. Battle gathered them all up in one sweep of his hands and carried them back to the living room.

"Damn, someone's eager." Mara commented. She sounded like she was teasing him. She was smiling, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She was still nervous.

"It's gonna be great!" He assured her.

She sat on the edge of the couch, not sure if she should get up, or turn around, or bend over something, or what. So, she just sat upright, her back straight, waiting for him to give her an instruction.

"Relax." Battle tried to sooth her. "You'll clench if you're nervous."

Mara offered him a humorless smile. "Kinda hard not to be nervous."

Setting the collection of lubricants on the coffee table, Battle knelt in front of her. He rested his hands on her knees. "It's just sex." He told her. "Just another way to have sex, like you tying me up."

Gently, only applying the smallest amount of pressure, Battle spread her knees. He bent his head down and licked at her slit. Tongue sliding over smooth skin. Gently coaxing her to relax. He slithered his tongue past the first layer of folds to lick at her insides, adding his own saliva to the juices inside.

Mara reclined back into the couch cushions and sighed. This was something that was familiar. Something she was used to and enjoyed. She spread her legs wider, her folds opening up more. Offering Battle better access.

He lifted her legs over his shoulders, letting her rest her weight on him so that her butt was lifted off the couch.

Still licking, he fumbled blindly with the tubes and bottles of lube, hoping for any one but the warming one –she was hot enough as it was. He squeezed a generous portion out into his hand and spread it over his fingers. While his tongue lapped at her main entrance, he gently prodded at her back entrance with his slick fingers.

Battle felt Mara pause when he touched her hole, the muscles of her legs tensing around his shoulders.

"Sh, sh, relax." He soothed, spreading the slick lube around her rim. "I'll go slow."

"The safe word is 'sonnet', she reminded him." Words a little shallow and breathy. She was equal parts horney and nervous, something which hadn't happened to her since high school.

"I'll stop if you need me to." He promised.

Battle returned his tongue to her slit, renewing his attentions until he felt her relax again. Her legs draping over his shoulders, as she sighed with appreciation and moaned with pleasure. Only then did his fingers return to her hole. Spreading more lube around the rim before his index finger –gently- prodded its way inside. But paused when he heard her loud gasp.

"Too much?" He asked. He was a big guy and her body was so small. His fingers were pretty thick compared to her. But Battle also couldn't think of what smaller thing to start her off with.

"It feels like-" Mara paused, not sure how to describe what she was feeling. It wasn't pain. It was a kind of discomfort. Sort of like… "-going the wrong direction."

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.

She hesitated a moment. Thinking. Mara wiggled her ass on his hand, assessing her level of discomfort. Then she shook her head, not sure if he could see the action from his position between her thighs. "No. Keep going. I'll use the safe word if I want you to stop."

He placed a kiss to her slit before pressing his finger in deeper.

She gasped again, but this time forced herself to relax almost immediately. The tension in her body leaving with a deliberate sigh, and Battle felt his finger slide in the rest of the way of its own accord. He wiggled it around a bit, feeling the tight walls of her unused, virgin hole. The texture, its elasticity. Testing how much it could stretch this first time.

"I'm going to try putting in another finger." He told her.

"Just keep eating me out while you do." She commanded him in return.

He pressed his tongue back into her slit, licking down and up. Slithering around. Searching her hood for the delicate bud of nerves. When he found her clit, he sucked on it gently and was rewarded with a deep and throaty moan of appreciation. That was when he drew out the first finger and slid two in, in its place. Index and middle fingers. Easing them in slowly, but not quite as slow as the first time.

His middle finger was longer and reached farther. Went deeper. Her breath hitched with the sensation. He sucked harder on her clit to distract from any discomfort she might feel. Battle wanted her to associate anal penetration with pleasure, it would make things easier in the future.

"Don't suppose you'd wanna stick your cock in me any time soon?" She asked between breaths.

"I need to stretch you out more." He told her. "We don't wanna hurt you."

Inside her, Battle scissored his fingers, spreading them and bringing them together again, then spreading them. Stretching her out just like he promised. Feeling the resistance of her walls against his fingers and how quickly they returned to their original shape when he relaxed the pressure. She was still so very, very tight.

"I meant my pussy." She informed him, panting. "You know I still have a perfectly fuckable pussy already wet and ready that you don't have to train to take your giant dick."

"Right." Battle wouldn't go so far as to say he 'forgot' about her pussy. It was right in front of his face, and it was open, and wet, and drooling on his couch. Very fuckable, indeed, and very inviting. He had just been preoccupied by another hole that it sort of slipped his mind that there was another option for penetration already ready to go. He felt his cock twitch with anticipation at the reminded. Slowly, Battle gently eased his fingers out of her and undraped her legs from his shoulders. He sat on the couch next to her. Cock standing up at full attention. "Climb on."

Mara was more than happy to comply. She straddled his lap and eased down onto his stiff, erect cock. Sighing with appreciation. "Much better."

He felt her juices gush out of her as he slid in, filling her up. It trickled between his legs and down his balls, making them sloppy with her arousal. She rocked on his lap, finding that spot deep inside her. Making sure his cock hit it just right. This was what she liked, a fat cock filling her full and hitting her deep. Mara moaned with appreciation. Trying something new was great and all, but nothing beat base sex. Moving enthusiastically with a thick, hard man under her.

Battle cupped her ass. One hand squeezing one round butt cheek, while the other slithered farther back to prod at her hole again. Slipping his finger back inside, making sure not to lose any of what he'd already stretched.

She moaned when she felt him press inside. Penetrating her from both sides. She moved her hips, pressing her ass down on his hand, forcing his finger deeper inside.

"It's actually better than I was expecting." She breathed in his ear. A deep and throaty growl of a sound. Heady with her arousal.

"You like it?" Battle smiled back at her. He had been a little nervous at first. Anal wasn't for everyone. Those that didn't like it usually tended to be scared off, never speaking to Battle again. But those that liked it, really, really liked it. Battle was glad that Mara seemed to really like it.

"Can you…" She hesitated, a little self-conscious and embarrassed by what she was about to ask, "…the other finger?"

The hand that was groping her butt cheek moved up to cup the back of her head. Tilting her face back, he kissed her. Lips sliding against lips, tongue slithering along tongues. She opened for the kiss, her own tongue meeting his with enthusiasm. That was when Battle slipped in the second finger. Sliding it in as his tongue slipped against hers. Cock inside her, fingers inside her, tongue inside her.

Mara moaned into his mouth. Hips moving in a way that both wiggled his cock around inside her and also forcing those fingers deeper inside her. The sensation of being filled from both ends overwhelming her and she bit his bottom lip when she came.

"Fuck!" Battle moaned, tasting his own blood as her insides squeezed him. He almost came himself, but managed to hold back. This was amazing and he wanted it to last. "I wasn't expecting you to come the first time."

"I wasn't expecting to like it." She confessed, panting heavily. "Am I ready for your dick now?"

Battle snorted, finding that legitimately funny. "You're only taking two of my fingers." He reminded her. "My dick is… bigger than just two fingers." He grinned at her. "You want my dick in your ass?"

"Are you teasing me?" She asked, a coy smile pulling at her lips. Mara fisted her hands in his hair, pulling his head back. "You don't get to tease me, Bambi. I'm the boss here."

She began moving her hips again. Moving both his cock and his fingers inside her.

Battle sighed. Appreciating the feel of her tight walls moving around his cock. Squeezing and stroking. Almost as if it were sucking on him. She really had the best fucking pussy! And she was so wet! Her juices gushing out of her with every thrust. Dripping between her thighs and over his balls. The space between them was so slick! They slid together like silk against silk. His confidence blustered by her first climax, Battle slipped in a third finger. Stretching her wider.

Another heady moan cut through Mara's throat.

"I wanna make you cum again." He whispered in her ear.

She nodded, bracing both hands on his shoulders while she put more force and speed into her motions. "This time I want you to cum at the same time as me."

Gawd! She was so fucking wet! Even wetter now from her first orgasm. Wet, and tight, and moving fast. "I'll try not to cum before."

"You better not." She warned.

He twisted all three of his fingers inside of her. Pressing against her walls. Making sure she stretched equally on all sides. Being gentle at first, but becoming rougher and pressing harder as she increased her movements. Her motions forcing his fingers against her insides, so much so that he could feel his fingers against his cock through her walls. She was really, really into! It was so fucking hot! It took every ounce of self-control Battle had not to cum immediately.

"Move faster." She commanded, barking orders as if she had him tied up and at her mercy.

Obediently, Battle bucked his hips, thrusting his cock up into her. As deep as he could go. Impacting her cervix with his head.

"Your fingers." She growled a clarification. "Move your fingers faster."

He wasn't sure how much faster he could move them. They were in a tight space and at an odd angle. Battle didn't wanna bruise or tear anything. But he followed the command as best he could. Wiggling all three fingers back and forth as fast as he could until he felt her tighten around his again.

Her hands fisting in his hair. Her back arching. Pussy squeezing his cock as a wave of fresh juices squirted between them.

Battle was only half a second behind her. His own orgasm rushing on the heels of hers.

Mara slumped against his chest. Exhausted and breathing hard. Breasts heaving with each intake of breath. The barrel piercings in her nipples catching on his chest hair.

"I wasn't expecting to make you cum the first time." He confessed.

"I wasn't expecting to like it." She admitted.

"So, you'll want to do it again." It was shameless how excited he sounded.

"Yes." She nodded, resting her head in the curve of his shoulder and smiling into his collarbone. "I'll want to do that again."

…