Recently, I came over with a strong urge to write something smutty in the ME universe, and I remembered how I still had fragments of scenes and descriptions left over from all the failed starts at the final chapter of this story. I hated nearly everything I wrote, except the fragments which were about the sex scene. So collected what I wanted in that document and put them together here.

That didn't quite satisfy me though. I enjoyed reading through it, and making revisions along the way, but I still had the energy to write something original. The product of that energy is what you see below. I ended up rewriting the entire sex scene from beginning to end, extending it quite a bit, and reducing the variety of positions dramatically.

Where you see: … ? … you see chapter markers. The question marks are there as placeholders for their real chapter values when the full chapter is complete - but it won't be completed. Where there is a chapter heading with nothing under it, I would like to have written some more of the story, but don't worry, none of the sex scene is missing. Each time there's an empty chapter, it would have contained a journey into some other part of the hotel, only to come back next chapter mid sex scene with Miranda and Joker.

Enjoy.

... 00 ...

Enduring in a permanent atmosphere of loose, fine, green dust was a little settlement of roughly 55 buildings networked confusingly by opaque tubes for travelling down. From above everything was made of the same brutal local geologic material. For as far as the eye could see, and indeed far beyond that Naxel had naturally sprouted tens of millions of little geologic curiosities known locally as "klips". They're semi-translucent gems, dull green in dark, dazzlingly green in light, about a foot tall and all angled towards the same point at the horizon. The ground had been cleared around the settlement and revealed a wavy smooth ground, coloured a turgid sickly brown.

The fine green, everywhere dust could be seen through well enough, but on the horizon an flat, opaque mountain of dust was approaching.

... 01 ...

... ? ...

Sometime later, during some quiet discussion about life on the Normandy that cloud was beginning to reveal its monstrous proportions. It was utterly beyond expectation. Like something out of a novel, Joker remarked. Astonishingly claustrophobic, Miranda said.

Miranda looked over at joker. In the monochrome light, his hand spread across his eyes, fingers to temple, cast a spider-like shadow down his grey face. He was slouched to one side, resting an elbow on the table. A small amount of pity was beginning to creep in for Miranda. She made a whimpering sound and said: "Come on, Joker…" There was a long pause. "Well… You've seen the worst and stupidest of me. This was never going to end well". Joker, in one motion shut his eyes and took a deep breath that raised his whole chest. She kept her pitying eyes on him.

Miranda gave a start at a new sentence, yet it amounted only to a guttural "guh" sound before collapsing in her throat. Her eyes zipped about the room, as she spooled up the boldness to propose her idea. Suddenly, she brightened all at once and filled her lungs with the intent to speak. But turned to look at him and the sentence turned to thin air in her mouth. Joker noticed the sudden glance, however, and spun his eyes over to her with his head following slowly.

"Look" She said, "I've been abominable. Just awful. And selfish. And there's hardly a thing I can do to improve your condition. Or mine. We just have to be adults... And move on." She slung her left thigh over her right knee. The fabric squeaked. "… Get on with our lives and our work… Yes? You know, Joker? And be careful not to stray into this territory with anyone else again. I suppose we can use this as a learning experience." Joker slumped pathetically like a child and nodded gradually, his elbow still fixed to the table and his fingers at his temples. Miranda gave a little exasperated burst of breath.

"I… don't know what to say", is what Miranda wanted to say, but she stammered again and could not get it out. Irritation was growing in her chest at her pilot's absolute refusal to cooperate with her. "Oh, come on, Joker!" - this was left unsaid too, after a pause and another failed start.

The cloud of dust had inched slightly closer. "Look" Miranda said turning away from the window to see Joker. "How about - please take your arm down. Please?" He arose from his almost atlas-like pose with slightly damp eyes and a miserable look. "I will make this offer only once. In order to put this whole thing - to bed - so to speak - to put it completely to rest, to not speak of it again, to hopefully raise your spirits, we can have one little thing. Right now."

Joker remained as still as a statue but for an almost imperceptible curious lift of his eyebrows. His whole body began to swell and the drum of his heart began beating loud and fast. He could hardly talk through his craggy and dry throat, but he said: "… thing?".

"Well, do you want that?" Joker blinked and nodded modest little nods. "Now, or in a couple of minutes. Are you up for that?" Body aching, temples pounding, penis at full, aching size, he took a slow gulp of air and asked croakily: "What are we going to do?" This was something Miranda had not contemplated from beginning to end. "Well." She sighed, opening her eyes wide and looking around the room as if searching for an answer. "My hand. That's all that's needed. I'd be willing to bet that that a lot of what you feel now will disappear the moment we finish."

... ?+1 ...

Joker was sitting, shoeless and trouserless on the hard wooden lip at foot of the bed, while Miranda sat on the quilted side and was elegantly unfolding her limbs out of her suit which she subsequently rolled down to her waist, revealing more and more bare white flesh to him.

Her tangible, real body, her intentions, the thought that they had been mere friendly colleagues two weeks before, her beauty, his overwhelming desire. It was Exasperating for him. He began to subtly tremble as he sat alone.

Miranda was so rarely seen out-of-suit, that to see her mere hand ungloved was like seeing a creature out of its shell. Here, now standing before Joker she was in nothing but a black lace bra, and her old shedded combat skin hanging off her waist and still encasing her hips and everything below.

What an intoxicating, maddening blast of unknown sights, scents, and textures her bare, human torso presented to Joker. To Joker at this moment, nobody had ever looked more naked. And never had he felt such a desire to consume another human in every possible fashion.

Miranda lifted up the corner of the sheets, sat cross-legged on the mattress facing him and flopped the sheets back over her lap. Scoot closer, she told him by means of light taps on the sheets in front of her. When he was comfortably in reach she leant forward for the waistband of his underwear and asked him to lie back. "I think it will be easier for both of us", she added quickly, and he fell back with a soft thwump.

Her action in pulling his underwear down was quick and unflinching. The shaft from base to head was now bare, but the band of his underwear was catching on the significant lip on the head of his penis. She brought her hooked thumbs closer together along the band and lifted it up and over. His manhood sprung up fiercely, bulging, covered in a lightning strike of veins and kicking at the air.

She moved his underwear further down his thighs, and with a quiet, deep breath she clasped the warm shaft. Before she made any vertical motion, she make a joy-stick like twist to see the comfortable distance between her thumb and every other finger.

Like a helpless, animal in heat he unconsciously thrust his hips into the air which more or less created the initial stroke of many to come

Her loose hand travelled up and down his fat, dry shaft, but always stopped before the tip, and this was for one reason. Miranda felt that engulfing the head of his penis required a degree of intimacy that didn't exist in their rushed and impassionate encounter. It was nonsensical, but it was true, and they both felt it that there was another layer of vulnerable nakedness in that exposed head, and touching it, especially firmly and with intention would all at once crumble the business like veneer that Miranda was trying to maintain.

Her floppy automaton hand continued its duty up and down the shaft. Her grip was loose, but tight enough that each time her hand travelled up, the balls in their big bloated sack would be collected together, lifted up and promptly plopped back down again onto the hard wooden edge of the bed.

The look on Joker's face said more of his tension and the strain on his composure more than it did of any pleasure he was feeling. Moreover Miranda could no longer feel a certain vein which had sunk back into the body of the cock, but once pulsed furiously against the tips of 3 of her fingers. Nevertheless she powered on, but each stroke being identical to the last, and obstinately refusing to travel over the head, his penis began to ever so slightly wilt.

... ?+2 ...

The thick brim of Joker's meaty tip hit the rungs of Miranda's fingers, as her wide soft palm gently cupped the two bulbous splits in the back of the head. Joker spasmed and winced. He craned his neck upwards and drunk in the sight of Miranda working on him

Very soon after she began on his tip, she switched to her left hand for two purposes. The first was to rest her tired arm, which now was upturned, curled and dead in her lap, the other was to ease the stroke by having her wide palm slide up the broad part of the tip.. He had to constantly reassure himself that what he saw and felt was real.

Very soon after she began on his tip, she switched to her left hand for two purposes. The first was to rest her tired arm, which now was upturned, curled and dead in her lap, the other was to ease the stroke by having her wide palm slide up the broad part of the tip.

Soon she tightened this new grip. There was an extremely sharp, pleasurable sensation each time Joker's compacted cockhead bloomed out the top of her fist. The texture of his bulky, iron-like cock slipping through her hands was something she was beginning to get used to - it was no longer causing her palpitations and it stopped making her head throb each time she looked at it. The whole affair as it was at that moment was becoming quite calm and endurable for her.

There was nothing special or unique in her stroke. It went plainly up to the top and down to the bottom, and spent an equal amount of time in contact each part of the member.

Her mind started to wonder. Joker had disappeared into some dreamy private universe of pleasure and sexual thrill. Miranda let her eyes rest on his penis for a while as her hand continued autonomously. She observed the beefy tip wobble a little each time her hand came off it, and a small vein in his base that flexed every couple of seconds. She was being lured into a state of relaxed hypnosis by the stillness of the room, the gradual darkening of the world beyond which was sinking everything into darker and darker grades of golden brown, the recurrent flopping of her hand, and the reliable reactions in joker's warm, dry meat.

Things continued without the slightest change for another three minutes, when as the head of his penis felt the squeeze of her soft hand for the hundred and fiftieth time a floorboard creaked in a very particular way that inserted into Miranda's dream, but not Jokers, the idea of a knock at the door. It grew in Miranda's mind into a serious concern. She began to play and replay the idea of a member of crew, or a member of staff calling up on them.

Joker had propped himself up on his elbows to appreciate the sight of his pole of meat being tended to by Miranda's hand when he saw her twist to see the door behind her. Joker was biting his lip very hard, but relaxed it a bit when Miranda let her grip slacken and her pace slow to a lazy jerk.

She untwisted herself and, still in a dream but with slightly furrowed brows she asked in low tones: "how's it coming along?"

Taking rapid shallow breaths, Joker: "Umm, yeah... Really good"

"Uh huh..." Miranda hummed. Then suddenly the foggy day dream cleared and she opened her eyes wide to respond: "I mean. How... Far along are you?". She quickened her pace and tightened her grip again, which made Joker shudder and tense.

"Well... Pretty close I think." There was a long pause where the sound of skin stroking skin could be heard clearly. "It's uh... I think it's a little dry. It stings a bit when you, uh...".

Miranda let go of him at once and decided that something here had to change. She looked at her aching hand and noticed one of her legs was going a little tingly and numb too. Without saying a word Miranda slid out from under the sheets and, posed like an ice skater with one foot on the floor, and the other stretched out behind her with toes pointed she leaned towards the door, opened and peeked her head out.

Joker began to feel quite awkward and silly lying supine as he was with his raging penis flicking at her, so he sat up. By the time she satisfied herself that no one was coming, she returned to both her feet, shut the door and saw him standing by the bed with his underwear up and the outline of his beefy manhood curving down to his thigh.

The bulk of the cloud had finally eclipsed the sun, and everything was still and abiding in its dark, massive shadow. But the cloud did not have a constant density from one end to the other, it was intricately textured by areas of dramatically varying density. It was a great tapestry of differently shaped and sized sub-clouds which permitted less or more bursts of that sun's light dependant on the thickness of each bit of the cloud. The result was an effect quite like water caustics, and the land, including the room was awash, brilliantly in it.

A thin strip of bright sunlight light zipped down from the peak of the mountain and travelled 30 minutes towards their window gently, and in that moment as they stood facing each other it broke into the room and travelled up their dark shadowy bodies.

... ?+3 ...

They were sitting back at the table facing that window. The amazing light show had captivated them - or Miranda at least, for a few minutes. She and her combat suit was still hanging off her waist, and her hard, slip of a frame was enjoying the nakedness of being out of her suit. Joker had his underwear, and shirt on, and was trying quite hard to enjoy the sights.

"It's not going to go in my mouth" Miranda said.

"I didn't ask you..."

"No, I know, but there isn't anything here to get it wet, so if you're alright with it I'll lick my hand or something."

There were a host of things that Miranda was not prepared to do; she would not get on her knees to do the job - she found it a bit abasing. She would not suck on any part of his body, nor would be let him see her spit into her own hand. Each of those activities, she felt were not appropriate for this purely practical and necessary intimacy. As close to a doctor/patient relationship as could be attained, Miranda wanted to reach and maintain it. Three concessions had already been made by touching the head of his member, agreeing to use lubrication, and the most severe of all of them, consenting to employ her own saliva as lubrication, and she was not going to make another.

She patted the table and had him sit there after he had removed his underwear. This way she could manipulate his member while standing. His penis was not nearly at the intensity it was at 10 minutes ago. Therefore Miranda's stroke tactic had to be changed to accommodate an immensely thick but floppy penis. she picked it up in by the tips of her fingers, and with the same hand brought in the palm and fully encased the head in her grip. Joker had not seen Miranda lubricate her hand, but he felt immediately the slick cushion of a wad of saliva pooled in her palm squish into the broad curved side of his cockhead.

*whew* Breathed Joker as he leaned back onto his palms "... *man*"

In order to fully spread the lubricant, Miranda had to do some interesting rotations and strokes. She twirled the head and pumped down the shaft. Used her index finger and thumb to make a ring which twisted under the head against its big meaty lip. She even - to joker's surprise used her index finger to press in and trace the split between the two meaty nubs at the back and up the urethra.

The shock and pleasure in Joker's body language and expression was unignorable. That big vein that travelled up the middle of his shaft had reemerged and was beating hard into her hand. Miranda thought as she twisted her fist over the head another time, that maybe this "colourful" manipulation is just how the job has to be done. In the light of Joker's heavy breathing and flushed face, her plain, dry, up and down strokes from before seemed obviously unfit for the job. Another concession was made. She continued to stroke in a twisting, plunging fashion.

She shivered and cringed as he grunted and their touching flesh squelched and squished. This would take some getting used to for Miranda. This affair had crossed well over the line between where doctor and patient sit. Most of her eccentric motions were unnecessary. They just caused pleasure that wasn't needed to reach the end she wanted. In fact, the cringe-worthiness bought on by it all caused her to return to her plain strokes. But it didn't last long, as Joker, with eyes clamped shut and in throes of mad lust he thrusted his hips desperately in the air with a pathetic whine.

At the very least it will get the job done quickly, she thought. Miranda had tucked her left hand under her right arm, and was leaning forward at a small angle. Joker was clutching at the side of the table and squeezing a scrunch of fabric of his shirt as he swung his legs off the end of the table agitatedly.

By now things were in full swing. Her wet fist down his wet meat were producing juicy thwacking sounds at a rate of 4 a second. And her pumps had become so vigorous that each time she stopped to reverse the direction of the stroke up his raging pole of meat, her whole upper body, and especially her full buoyant breasts wobbled.

While Joker was flat on his back and looking at the ceiling, Miranda quickly made a surreptitious dip forward to let a wad of spit she had been generating land on his head and be immediately subsumed into the existing coating by her twisting, almost playful hand.

... ?+4 ...

... ?+5 ...

"Come on, Joker. Come on." She said impatiently.

Miranda had both hands on his member. One was steadying it by clutching the base, the other was twisting, squeezing and massaging his meaty, soaked tip.

"Joker... Are you anywhere near?" As she said this, her whole body looked to change gear and speed up. She leaned in at a steeper angle, her elbow swung out and the pumping became more intense.

*thwack thwack thwack*

Joker had been indulging in a series of horrible and revolting thoughts in order to prolong the experience, and only permitted himself an eyeful of what Miranda was doing to his body when he was safely and comfortably below the edge.

Miranda was becoming exasperated and even bored, and thoughts of abandoning this whole thing were beginning to form in her.

"Joker." She said more loudly than before, snapping him out of his disgusting dreams and forcing him to see her. "I said are you *anywhere* near the end?"

Joker, thinking the affair had run its course said heavily, and with a lot of breath "Oh yeah... I'm just about to...".

"Ok, well when you do, you've got to tell me, ok? Try not to go into a daydream, focus."

Miranda, whose legs were getting rather tired, hooked a chair towards her with her foot and knelt on it with one knee, as she went into an even higher gear and virtually attacked the tip of his cock. *shlick shlick shlick* She didn't bother with the rest of his shaft, which had been drying for over 5 minutes. That ball of raw nerves was the centre of her focus. She squeezed, she twisted, she even once or twice turned her thumb and middle finger into a ring and jiggled the lip.

Joker manifested a constipated expression, and his whole body when ridged. His swinging legs unconsciously wrapped around the back of Miranda's knees, for which he apologised. "It's fine" she said rapidly. "Just focus on getting to the end". *shlick shlick shlick*

Miranda could not see through the flurry of pumps and the saliva, but he had just emitted a long trickle of crystalline precum. But he was still, 60 seconds after declaring himself "about to" holding himself at bay. Miranda, now biting her bottom lip spat clearly and unashamedly at his lucky meat.

"Joker, I'm not going to do this fore..." *shlick shlick shli-* There was a knock at the door. She stopped immediately with her fist on the head, the other at the base and held it there, frozen. Slowly she had been getting comfortable in their seclusion, but with that knock, reality came pouring in and she saw herself from the perspective of their visitor, clutching at the solid penis of a man with both fists, not naked, but in a bra with half of her suit on, decidedly composed, he, decidedly not. In what dire ways could this scene be interpreted?

With a sticky wet sound she released his thick, aching member and popped her arms into her suit and zipped it up in time for the second round of knocking, but this time it was accompanied with a voice. A stranger's. And what it said was imperceptible. Miranda leapt for Joker's trousers and threw them at him as she opened the door only a crack.

"A human." A loud rebreather apparatus hissed as the little plump Volus drew breath. "The guests are gathering in the lobby madam to take shelter from the *... breath...* storm. The chefs have been called back and we are serving small *... breath...* meals."

Miranda did rather want to get down there. "Do you know if commander Shepard is down there? Or any armed service-people?"

"Some armed men, madam. *... breath"*

Interestingly Miranda felt as thought she had entered into a game with Joker, and she quite honestly wanted to see it through for some reasons of mild thrill and amusement. She was experiencing, very mildly, something of that much written about thrill felt usually by women who get intimate with preposterous and unappealing men. She didn't like going on and on at his manhood in the same way she could potentially like it in some men. She was enjoying it a little for how disgusting, how stupid, and dangerous it was.

Miranda said she'll be down in a little bit and to please tell the service people of the Normandy that Operative Lawson will be down soon and there is no need to call for her.

"Very well. *... breath...* I must inform you that not all rooms can adequately protect from the dust particles. *... breath ...* If you discover any irritation, please inform *... breath...* a member of staff."

Miranda thanked him and shut the door. The heavy thump and triple click of her solid door shutting helped to sooth her into a state of comfort and seclusion again. Joker was standing in the corner of the room where the door opened inward and shielded him. Miranda didn't have to ask him if the shock brought on by the knock at the door and the ensuing conversation which lasted nearly a minute simmered his explosive potential. She could see his penis had shrunk and his first complexion had cooled.

Miranda sucked loudly on her lip and Joker took a seat by the table. Both looked around the room quietly. It was all awash in the same blotchy and stripy monochrome light.

"Would it..." Miranda walked over to the table and took a seat on the other side. "Would it help you if I undid my bra and had my breasts out?"

"That definitely couldn't hurt" Joker said confidently, as if it weren't for his insane mental exertions he wouldn't have splattered himself and the whole bed 25 minutes ago.

Miranda took a deep breath and said "alright, let's give it another go, shall we?"

... ?+6 ...

Miranda's breasts filled her bra and were still spectacularly round and buoyant when free. They were full and hefty enough to have the quality all big breasts have - of hanging rather than perching from the body, and they hung just enough to give the impression of weight and size.

As Joker jumped up on the table, with only his shirt on he could have clawed and torn to pieces Miranda if she were not human, but just some object for which he felt equal desire. He simply could not believe that he was going for another round, and that she was going to put her actual spit on his cock, and was going to rub it in with her own hands until he orgasms, and that they were her real, honest, boobs, soft and swaying within grasp.

Joker laid back on his elbows for a good view of what was to come. Miranda swept a long curtain of hair behind her ear as she pursed her lips and dropped a long wad of spit down his shaft. Without hesitation, she grabbed his beefy member where it landed and massaged it in.

It had only been 30 seconds of Miranda giving pleasure to the head of his cock when he felt that she was going to bring an end to everything very quickly if he didn't renter his abominable dream world. Her jaw was clenched, her shoulders were raised in tension and one could see two little pearly white shapes where her two front teeth were digging into her thick bottom lip as she, with great force, speed, and it had to be said; passion, pumped his juicy and soaked manhood. It may not have been honest sexual passion. But regardless, she was passionate to bring this silly and dangerous game to an end.

She leant in and spat again. Joker heard that and very nearly blew it all then and there. She kept pumping it fiercely, twisting over the head, flicking his thick purple lip, creating an unignorable cacophony of meaty smacks and *shlicks*.

"Joker" She said continuing to polish that pole of meat as it made her body wobble and jiggle and her hair wave. "I don't mind if you look". He so desperately wanted to look, but it would mean only seconds of continued pleasure. She didn't notice but her nipples were solid, and the areolas were covered in little pink goosebumps. Joker looked up and noticed and threw his head back with a moan.

*shlick shlick shlick*

"Come on, you're meant to look, that was the point." She said this with some juddering in her voice caused by the force of her fist sending shockwaves up her body.

Joker craned his neck up and looked at her as he chewed on his lip and begged for the strength not to let it end. Miranda kept her eyes fixed on his chest and on his sloppy and worn manhood. By necessity, Joker had begun to stare through her jiggling and rocking boobs into his beckoning world of horrors that would keep him at bay.

"Come on now, Joker" *pump pump pump* "Don't forget to say when it's about to happen" *shlick shlick shlick*.

Joker began to tremble and manifest a seriously red faced, constipated expression. He was pressed hard up again the very highest limits of his endurance. His breath modulated his breath like a pilot in a fast spinning fuselage. *Gasp. Hold. Exhale quickly. Repeat*

*Shlick! Shlick! Shlick! Shlick! Shlick! Shlick!*

Miranda was beginning to lose strength in her arms. She had switched hands twice already, and here, had to go in for a third.

*Shlick! Shlick! Shlick!... Spit… Shlick! Shlick! Shlick!*

"Stop bloody holding back Joker, for goodness sake it's obvious, just let go" Miranda delivered this reality check to Joker at a bold, clear volume that, if not for the mix of male moans and wet, meaty pounds, would have been a little too loud for a room of that size.

*Shlick! Shlick! Shlick!... THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK* Miranda had begun beating his soaked member all the way to the base.

Reality flooded back into Joker with that alarming statement. The game was up and he knew it. It was time to fully enjoy it and stop crouching in hidden worlds that dulled the pleasure. With a new, unafraid outlook he peered at the bare, stark world and drank deep from the reality of the situation. He looked at Miranda's eyes and hers met his for a moment. He said her name clearly in his head and looked down her hard, slim, porcelain form to her madly pumping fist. All of his sensations were more acute. He could feel her individual fingers rib the lip of his beefy, solid member. He felt so sharply the ring her hand had made around the base of his shaft. That fluid in which his big aching dick was soaked resolved itself in his mind from the grotesque liquids his imagination was inventing into what it really was; a heavy, accumulated coating of Miranda Lawson's private spit.

Reality continued to pour until he was positively saturated with the sights, smells, sounds, and feelings.

Miranda had become exhausted. Both of her arms ached and the texture and shape of his wet pole of meat were beginning to numb her palms. "Joker, I'm-" *THWACK SMACK THWACK SMACK THWACK* "-going to stop In a-".

Joker made a sudden brutal groan akin to a car screeching to a stop. He clunked his head back against the table and threw his hips into the air as a very fast wad of thick white cum shot out and struck Miranda's chin. His abs vibrated against the surface of his torso, and the tendons in his neck protruded out as his jaw clenched. As a vibrating mass of meat, muscle and pleasure he shouted with a husky tense voice "NOW. NOW."

Miranda said nothing as Joker began his orgasm. The smack on the chin irritated her considerably. *I warned you, you disgusting dunce* she thought, clutching his squirting meat. She had every intention of avoiding his semen, and so employed the two-fold tactic of not touching the head as it spewed, and aiming his agonising cock back towards him. But it only succeeded in helping her avoid a single fast, sharp spit of cum as Joker's legs suddenly wrapped around Miranda's hips and bum, contracted harshly and pulled her in. A giant skid of cum shot all the way up between from her belly through between her breasts.

She looked down at it and enjoyed watching it flex and wriggle and kick and squirt like a real living organism. A few spurts fired over his own body and rand down the window behind him.

After the fifth second, that well known component of an orgasm, the wonderful furry, tingly warmth that encapsulated one's body began to simmer a little in Joker - as it usually is the first thing to go, but his member was still at full, intolerable sensitivity as she clutched it with both hands on the shaft.

He slowly pried his eyes open and propped himself on his elbows to see what was going on. A shot flew at him and over his shoulder. When he saw his own private fluids plastered up Miranda's torso, a physical wave of indescribable lust that was so intense it nearly hurt, caused him to bucked hips hard up into her hand, and she, obligingly, but none too happily, took the raw head in hand, and pumped a few times, inevitably catching a few splattering wads of goopy, heavy cum in her palm.

Another sharp spit flew at him, and in response she aimed it away with a quick contraction just in time for yet another flying wad to come crashing against her thick wet lips. In response she let go of him completely in disgust and let his manhood empty whatever it had left on its owner.

... ?+6 …

Joker's heart was rapping into his chest at 90, hard beats per minute - his new resting heart rate, as he silently and dreamily sat in the company of his crew in dinner hall on the ground floor of the hotel, waiting out the storm with them.

Miranda was at the empty reception, looking left and right for a member of staff, in order to be moved to a new room.

"You look all bright and fresh" Said Jack, strolling into the main lobby, arms swinging, not a care in the world, bored out of her mind.

"I had a shower. And you should too" She retorted without a glance back at her.