SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 09

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.

Qo'el's rescue had gone smoothly enough. The Republic wasn't eager to have the fact that it was torturing prisoners revealed, so a few borrowed files assured her continued safety. The guards hadn't been any more eager to face down a heavily armed mercenary, rather than the restrained and beaten prisoners they were used to. The rest of the database he took because he was feeling a bit vindictive. While in there system, he'd also lifted the classified recordings of Ord Mantel's rich and powerful and their corruption which the Republic used to keep the locals in line. He might have been more than a little bit vindictive.

The redheaded beauty couldn't have been more than twenty years old. The thought of her being tortured...well, actually it led rather inexorably to thoughts of her not being tortured. Admittedly, for Sulmad this was not an unusual experience as most thoughts ended with him naked on a pile of money, surrounded by his harem of beautiful, loyal protectors/wives/whores.

She followed Sulmad to the quiet corner where he pulled out his holo-phone and punched in Lamalla Rann's code. The fellatrix, famous more for her reporting skills amongst those not in the know, answered with a purred suggestion before she saw the redhead behind him. Eyes widening as she wondered if the smuggler was following through on selling off the four bouts of oral sex she still owed him. Shoulders covered by a thin nightrobe shrugged to herself as she concluded there were worse people to lick than pretty redheaded girls. She would know.

A few brief comments that gave no indication what he was planning later, Sulmad was on his way to the reporters hotel room, with the liberated woman trailing behind him. Lamalla Rann's off duty clothes had a very definitive feel of on duty, just a different sort of duty, a sort accomplished in the bedroom, not pounding a beat, though pounding might well be a part of it. The unneeded bra did not so much cover as entice, her robe was transparent and open though it could be belted shut and her panties were a masterwork in almost, but not quite concealing the fact that she could be fucked without even needing to shove them aside. Her hair was free of the ridiculous styles of the nobility and hung in a brown wave to the small of her back, framing her face and curves in a very attractive manner.

Sulmad smiled.

Qo'el stared.

"Qo'el here has a story for you and I've got the documentation you need to prove it. Should be worth a couple of those prizes you journalists are so crazy for."

"If so, you'll get what you're crazy for." Lamalla whispered, hugging him. Her whisper was not so quietly the redhead couldn't hear. She didn't miss the woman's breasts pressing against Sulmad, or the lusty smile he gave as he hugged her in greeting.

Qo'el blushed and tried to look worldly at the same time, then settled for just telling her story, talking directly into the holocamera Lamalla made appear, putting the question of why the reporter had a tiny holocamera in her bedroom out of her mind.

Lamalla had her pouring out her story in no time. A few questions from off camera redirected her flow into a coherent narrative. With that done, the reporter excused herself and dragged Sulmad over to the computer terminal so he could download his files. As he worked she hugged him tightly from behind, breasts pressing against the back of his head like delightful, if artificial, pillows. "Kidnapping, torture, rape, misappropriation of government funds and personnel, corruption, how could it be any better?" She whispered, this time so the woman slowly relaxing on her couch couldn't hear.

He glanced up at her. The veteran reporter didn't blush. "I mean as a story, not a series of events that actually occurred."

"I know."

"Speaking of actual events, was she?" Lamalla let the question hang, unfinished.

"No. Or, at least, not as far as I can tell. I got there before they processed her in, but there should be plenty of names in here for you to go looking for." He said as he finished the file transfer.

"If this story is as big as you think and I think, then I owe you anything you want, whenever you want it, within reasonable limits." She added, considering that while the story would do her career serious good, getting fucked live on the air wouldn't. Or at least, not with the right people. Hands ran down the armored shirt to the armor that protected his prick.

He caught them. "Why don't you go say thank you to the woman who's willing to appear on camera and talk about her experiences." Sulmad suggested, loudly enough that Qo'el could hear. She perked right up as the beautiful older woman straightened and swayed over to the couch.

Sulmad couldn't hear what she whispered to the younger woman as he carefully ripped a copy of the reporter's files and erased his tracks. Lamalla might have been a nympho, but she had a good record for sniffing out (or sucking out) stories and there were one or two threads he'd be happy to follow up on, if she'd found anything about them. Whatever the reporter said made the redhead blush furiously, smile shyly and start pulling off her top, shooting glances at the smuggler's back that were an enticing mix of embarrassment and arousal.

By the time he finished covering his tracks, Lamalla was already on her knees, face buried between Qo'el's thighs as she worked the woman's cunt furiously. The younger woman's hands were on the reporter's head, trying to shove her entire head into her suddenly sopping pussy as she moaned and writhed against the nympho's skilled ministrations.

When she noticed Sulmad rising, her eyes locked on him, aroused green orbs trying to read intention and action in equally green, but far blander eyes.

Slowly each piece of armor fell to the floor, freed by calloused hands. Qo'el bit her lip, her moans silenced as she was transfixed by the stripping smuggler. When he was naked, he let the blaster belt fall on top of the pile. Now her eyes were locked on his cock as he stepped forward. He stopped behind the reporter, on all fours, her perfect ass pointed at him, panties parted slightly, revealing her pussy, the expensive fabric neither inhibiting the flow of juices from her cunt, nor absorbing it. A necessity, if you were as permanently aroused as Lamalla Rann.

"Do you mind?" He asked politely, as a finger ran delicately along her pussy lips.

Lamalla pulled back for just a moment. "No need to be gentle." She replied, before diving back into the pussy in front of her. The sudden absence and return of sensation forced a groan from the overloaded, overwhelmed, already on the brink of orgasm, former prisoner.

Sulmad slipped his cock between her lips, rubbing up and down, coating the head with her natural lubricant, before teasing her ass with the head. "What do you think, Qo'el? Shall I fuck her cunt, or her shitter?" He asked, deliberately as foul mouthed as he thought she could stand.

He was planning to force her to engage with him, become part of him fucking Lamalla, though which part she would play would be up to her. She beat him to the punch. "Me." She gasped between moans.

"Oh?" He froze, one hand on his cock, the other on Lamalla's back.

"Fuck me. In the cunt." She mimicked his language. "Where her tongue is now, not where her fingers are."

Sulmad's eyebrows rose at this revelation. "And what shall our poor reporter do while we are entertaining each other?" He purred.

"Suck your balls, lick my clit." She gasped.

"Greedy girl." She flushed. "I like that." A firm pull of her hair removed Lamalla from between Qo'el's legs. He lifted the fiery redhead to her unsteady feet and slid in behind her. Her cunt was well lubed by the reporter's actions and he slid into the tight pussy as easily as could be expected, given the givens.

Lamalla looked up at them like a puppy whose bone had been stolen. "Tell her what to do." Sulmad whispered, nibbling on her ear as he slowly ran his hands around to the front of her stomach. He hadn't begun pumping away yet, letting the supposedly inexperienced, if delightfully depraved, woman get used to the feel of a real cock inside her.

"Lick my clit, please." She requested.

"Very polite." Sulmad teased, giving a quick thrust that turned her response into a moan.

Lamalla lunged forward, licking at the woman's clit, one hand fondled Sulmad's balls while the other sought the large handful that was the Qo'el's right breast. If she hadn't frigged herself to an orgasm when she got home and another quick one after Sulmad's call, she might have been unable to resist touching herself, but for the moment, she focused on giving pleasure to those who had just gone through so much and given her career such a boost.

Sulmad's hands ran up and over Qo'el's front as he slowly moved in and out of the beautiful woman, her grasping cunt sucking, sopping and almost moaning in disappointment when he moved back, falling into a satisfied, if squeaky silence when he stretched her to her utmost with his cock. He teased her magnificent breasts until he felt her pussy starting to squeeze down even harder on his prick and her breathing grew ragged. As her orgasm approached, he grabbed her hips in a bruising grip and began fucking her quickly, trying to drive himself over at the same time as his beautiful new associate.

Lamalla took over playing with her new toy's breasts while Qo'el wrapped her fingers in the reporter's hair and ground her face against her clit, desperate for more even if she was getting all she could handle. This was evidenced by the moans and screams and then sudden silence of the young woman as the ministrations of the more experienced pair drove her wild, then into Orgasmville, then into whatever lay beyond it, where her face was a frozen portrait of unimagined and debauched delight.

As she floated, on a cloud of heavenly ecstasy, Sulmad fucked her body quickly, roughly and joyfully, until the heat rose from his toys and fell from his head, meeting at his cock in an inferno of pain and pleasure that he filled her with.

They fell backwards, Qo'el's hands dragging the reporter along with them to the couch, where she dutifully lapped up every drop of white seed leaking from the rescued teenager. There weren't many, not with Sulmad's cock still blocking the path and her tight, greedy box, swallowing every drop it could find. With some difficulty, Sulmad and Lamalla Rann extricated themselves from her frozen grip.

"That was fun."

"For you two." Lamalla said, a bit sourly.

Sulmad's naked form backed her against the privacy shielded window. When there was no where left to retreat to, two fingers slipped into her sopping pussy. He held them before the reporter's eyes as evidence. "Oh, yes, I can see that you were only in it for the story." He whispered.

Lamalla grinned and sucked her juices from calloused fingers. They glanced over at the woman who was now asleep on the journalist's couch, curled in a naked and almost glowing ball, except for the few additional drops of cum on her pussy lips, the handprints on her breasts and hips, she looked like an angel. She was, however, the spitting image of a recently fucked angel.

"Make sure she gets back to her father." He commanded.

"Eventually. I need a new camera operator. She's not trained, but so eager. I can work with that." Lamalla said.

"Work with, or over?" Sulmad countered with a smile of his own.

"Both. By the way, I was serious. I owe you for this."

"Don't worry, beautiful, you'll pay me back. Everyone always does." His lips brushed her cheek as he turned back to his clothes.

"No, no, no, I couldn't let you go like that." Lamalla tried to spin him around and just succeeded at pulling herself forward. He stopped, but it wasn't because of the hand on his arm.

One brow rose on its own and his eyes were suddenly harder than the emeralds they resembled. "Couldn't you?" A voice colder than Hoth asked.

"With her scent on your dick? I could never forgive myself for letting a guest go out so perfumed. This is a bad neighborhood, you know." She said warm brown eyes trying to melt his as her hand grasped his cock.

"And however will you solve that problem?" He asked, unbending slightly, though his cock wasn't stiffening particularly.

"The way any good hostess would. Personally." Lamalla replied, sliding to her knees and taking the full length of his soft dick into her mouth and cleaning it patiently.

After a few moments of pleasant dominance, Sulmad realized she was trying to get him hard again and since he had places to be, he didn't have time for that. At the moment. He stepped back, evading her attempt to follow easily and pulled her up by the hand that tried to catch him. "She's had a hard time of it. Waking up to you licking her out might help make her feel better."

"You don't let me have any fun." Lamalla pouted.

"See, when you say that after a night like tonight, you're just begging for an evening you'd never forget." Sulmad said, before turning back to his clothes.

"Is that a promise?"

Sulmad laughed quietly. "Are you sure you want it to be?"

Lamalla Rann, nympho, whore, slut and reporter didn't have an answer to that.