A Momentary Lapse Pt. 02

"Attention all passengers. It is currently 3:15 PM on the 3rd of August 2072. The temperature outside is a pleasant 81 degrees Fahrenheit. This hypertrain will arrive at Tulsa Station 390-FT in 45 minutes."

A silver streak against a backdrop of golden fields, the hypertrain raced towards its destination. Peppered among the rye fields were remnants of the Omnic Crisis, machines that had long been left to rust and decay, reminders of the conflict that had torn the world apart thirty years prior. From a distance, the large grey splotches appeared as nothing more than boulders, small imperfections in the sea of fields that surrounded them.

The cozy restaurant car was empty save for a single woman sitting at the far end, sipping on a cup of tea and looking over schematics on a screen, zooming in now and then, or flipping pages on the touch screen of her device. Even as her eyes were focused on the larger screen, information flew by on the corners of her light blue visor.

"Miss Vaswani, is there anything else you need?" Sharply dressed, the train employee kept his eyes to the table in front of her, his eyes not once meeting Symmetra's gaze.

She guessed that this was a different employee than the one that had brought her the beverage she was now enjoying by the simple fact that he sounded two decades older. Never looking at the man, she rapidly closed the display on the table before her.

Hospitality employees were hard to trust these days. Whether the man's downward gaze meant to look at the table, the screen or the shelf of cleavage spilling out of her dress meant little to the hard-light architect.

"I thought I told your colleague I would let you all know if I needed anything. Should I repeat myself, for it seems the message did not make its way to all its intended recipients..." The black-haired woman cast a sidelong glance at the balding man.

"Y-yes, you are right. My apologies, Miss Vaswani," stammered the man, bowing slightly before exiting the train car with as much haste as his long, skinny legs would allow.

When the automatic door at the end of the car had closed behind him, a sighing Symmetra launched her pocket computer again, the paper-thin machine stretching out before her, well over a foot long from corner to opposite corner. Though her mind should have been on the task at hand, her thoughts wandered to that night in Paris with the white-haired Ashe, the outlaw who had stolen her hard-light prototype.

For two months, Symmetra had been unable to shake the feeling of the woman's red lips pressed to her own, her dexterous hands caressing every inch of her body, and that fat, throbbing cock of hers... She bit her lower lip slightly, a blush creeping on her cheeks. The part of her mind not caught up in all manner of lewd thoughts managed to bring her back to the task at hand: finding the hard-light prototype that Ashe had stolen.

After that incident, the Vishkar Corporation had offered to send their top operatives to retrieve the object. Symmetra had simply refused, indicating that she had been the one to allow it to fall into the outlaw's hands. It was only natural that she be the one to correct that mistake.

Her employer had accepted and allowed her to proceed with her mission on the single condition that she allow the Vishkar agents to shadow her, interfering only if strictly necessary. It had taken only two months for the hard-light prototype to emerge, and a sale was meant to take place on the 5th of August in the city of Tulsa, she had learned. Arriving in advance would allow her to locate the warehouse where Ashe was headed ahead of time and plan her strategy accordingly. She had never been one for improvisation, preferring to account for every possible outcome. Especially when facing the deadly Deadlock Gang, known to most as Ashe.

Though her eyes were on the plans before her, the architect's mind had wandered, only to be suddenly snagged by something in the corner of her eye. The small piece of paper moved gently at the other end of the round table she was at. The tiny note, barely an inch across, was folded in half, though not with much effort for it remained open at a forty-fivedegree angle.

Symmetra's eyes followed the note around for a few moments, watching as it flipped and danced about, fluttering on the table, moved around by the nearly imperceptible air currents of the train car.

"What the...?" she muttered to herself. The employee that had just been there had most likely dropped it or left it there on purpose, Symmetra thought. Satya reached out for the note with her prosthetic arm, albeit with some hesitation. Opening it, her eyes flew over the short message:

Hello darling

I do hope you're finding as much enjoyment in your trip

as I am in watching you.

If you want your little toy back, meet me in the car number fifty.

The bottom of the piece of paper was stained with a deep red lipstick, the kind that Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe always wore.

An odd mixture of emotions welled up within her. Anger at the humiliation Ashe was now putting her through, first and foremost. Then came disappointment in herself, for she had let her guard down yet again, putting her employer's interests into jeopardy. After the first two came excitement and lust, tangled together as she liked to imagine herself with the gunslinger.

Her stomach became a furnace and every last inch of her burned for the woman in the 50th car.

Symmetra rose suddenly, taking one last gulp of the cooled-down beverage in her cup, and placing it back down on the table determinedly. She would confront Ashe, she would take back what was hers... she would...

A surge of lust took hold of her. Just the thought of the woman turned her into a real mess.

That note, that single piece of paper, had kicked her typically analytical mind out into the cold and replaced it with the fool she felt herself becoming, the blushing idiot. Though she tried to appear calm and collected on the outside, the Symmetra behind the facade was anything but.

Brisk steps carried Symmetra through the train, every footfall bringing with it an earthquake of titflesh, breasts struggling for space within the too-tight dress.

Eyes watched the woman as she moved, some with admiration and some with lust, her long black hair flowing gracefully behind her. She was a blur to most, never slowing for a moment. Anyone in her way knew to step aside by the look she gave them.

After fifteen or so minutes, the architect reached the door of the car, a golden 50 etched upon the shiny silver door. This car, however, had no window upon the door that Symmetra could use to peer inside. Chasing away any apprehension, she slowly tried to pull the door open, quickly realizing that it was locked.

"Of course..." she thought.

Before she could even think to knock, the door slid open before her, revealing the same middle-aged employee that she had seen moments prior.

"Miss Ashe has been expecting you." The man gave a polite bow as he stepped out of the way, allowing Symmetra to enter the dimly-lit area beyond.

When Symmetra entered the car, stepping slowly onto the deep red carpeted floor, not a single pair of eyes could look elsewhere. The center of attention, Satya lifted her head proudly, trying not to show her discomfort at the thick cloud of smoke that permeated the room.

All around her were the infamous Deadlock Rebels, numbering in the dozens. Playing cards and smoking seemed to be their favored activity, though any conversation they might have been having had immediately halted when the architect walked through them.

She kept her hand near the photon projector at her hip, the small device able to enlarge at a moment's notice in her grip, allowing her to dispatch most foes with frightening efficiency.

Most.

At the other end of the car stood a colossal Omnic with a bowler hat, its metallic arms crossed over its chrome chest.

Satya never stopped, simply staring up at the enormous robotic man with an intensity that could melt its circuits. "Move," she ordered the thing. Being twice her size, he did not.

"B.O.B., do be a dear and move aside for miss Vaswani," came a voice behind him, a voice that Symmetra recognized too quickly. Like warm honey dripping into her brain, the architect nearly felt her knees buckle.

B.O.B. did as he was told, stepping aside to let Symmetra pass.

Sitting upon a makeshift throne of wooden crates was none other than Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, her rifle resting comfortably on her knees, piercing red eyes staring straight at Symmetra from under the brim of a black cowboy hat. A slow smile manifested on her crimson-stained lips. "Satya Vatswani. Been a while. Told you I'd come to see you again.

"Were you so eager to get your hands on me again?"

"You could say that," replied Symmetra, allowing herself to sit down on a nearby chair.

"Though I think you know precisely why I'm here." She had to admit to herself that the woman before her was as strikingly beautiful as she was intimidating, with fair skin and snow-white hair. Her nails, painted the same shade as her lips, slowly tapped on the wooden armrest in succession.

"Mind refreshing my memory?" Ashe reached into a small bowl next to her, plucking a fat grape and tossing it into her mouth.

Symmetra chuckled. "I'm not here to play games. Tell me where the prototype is, Ashe." The white-haired gunslinger frowned, leaning forward slightly on her "throne". "I don't think that's any of your business, sweetheart," she said with a grin, eyeing Symmetra's luscious chest for a brief moment.

Out of the corner of her eye, Symmetra noted the bulge in Ashe's tight leather pants and noted, too, the way it throbbed as Ashe's eyes wandered downward. The architect frowned, never allowing her gaze to break from the Deadlock leader's crimson one, each iris a rich crimson.

"It is, you will find, very much my business. And the business of the Vishkar Corporation. This train is full of operatives ready to wipe the Deadlock stain off the map. Wouldn't be surprised if a few of them were in here with us right now," Symmetra said with a smug smirk on her lips.

The gang members around her exchanged uncertain looks as a flash of mistrust washed over the group. Excited whispering buzzed about them with varying intensity. A drop of oil ran down B.O.B.'s forehead as his glowing green eyes alternated from Symmetra and Ashe to the other Deadlock members.

Rising quite suddenly, an irritated Ashe pounded her fist on the armrest of her seat. "QUIET! ALL OF YOU!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, fury in her voice. Her black cowboy hat quite nearly fell off with the sudden motion, forcing her to place it back straight onto her head.

Silence fell on the small crowd like a blanket.

"Miss Vaswani, I thought you and I had moved past lying to get what we want," the whitehaired woman said, smiling and tucking a loose strand of hair behind an ear as she regained her composure. "Why don't you come to my cabin, so we may discuss what is most profitable for us both? No need to make a show of this."

Symmetra had never seen Ashe so furious, but the outburst had not shaken her much. In a way, Ashe's explosive temper seemed a foil to Symmetra's outwardly calm nature. She only hoped that the anger she'd just witnessed would not be directed at her.

"Fine. But be warned that if anything happens to me, no one here leaves alive," the architect warned. "Lead the way, Ashe."

Ashe hummed. "Takin' charge, I see. Hot." The woman stood up, leaving her rifle behind on the crate-built throne. Her eyes scanned over Symmetra's delicious curves, eyeing her like a piece of meat.

Symmetra might have imagined the woman licking her lips before turning around, but her mind was soon distracted by Ashe's juicy rump in those tight leather pants. Deep breaths, she thought.

The trip to Ashe's cabin was a short one indeed, the pair arriving there before they had even left each other's presence.

"How did you manage to get the whole car to yourself?" Symmetra asked, looking around briefly as Ashe opened the sliding door for her. "I know your family has quite the fortune... but you never struck me as the Miss Moneybags type."

"Buyer arranged a few things. The guy who brought you that note isn't even one of my guys," Ashe replied, following Symmetra into the cozy cabin.

The place wasn't overly huge, being about 15 or so feet from one end to the other, but what it lacked in size it more than made up for in sheer extravagance. Tapestries decorated the walls on either end of the lavish suite and a large window allowed one to see the scenery outside. A bar had been set up on the wall opposite the bed while a work desk had been placed opposite a small round dining table with two large, cushioned chairs.

"Like it? Kind of reminds me of your room in Paris," Ashe said with a smirk as she made her way to the small bar, picking a pair of glasses from a shelf and setting them neatly onto the counter with a soft clink. "Want something to drink? Take the edge off." "You know how I am with alcohol..." Symmetra blushed. For fuck's sake, she was turning into a schoolgirl.

"I know. You're much easier to deal with once you've had a drink or two, dear," the older woman jokingly replied, uncorking the bottle with a flick of her thumb.

The architect laughed, sitting on a nearby chair, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. "Fine."

Ashe finished pouring their drinks and handed one glass off to Symmetra, making sure to brush her fingers against the other woman's as she did so. "Now, let's talk business."

"How much is your buyer offering for the prototype?" Symmetra asked, taking a sip of the strong drink, feeling it burning down her throat.

Ashe allowed herself to fall back into the large, cushioned chair on the other end of the small, round table. "I appreciate the eagerness you're showing, Satya. But when I say we should talk business, I don't mean talk business. We like to take things a bit slower, where I'm from. I know you're here for the prototype, darlin'. But would you have come alone if that were the only thing you were after? Come, now. I'm quite sure that your boss could have sent any number of super special secret agents after me and taken the prototype." Satya frowned briefly at the sarcasm used by Ashe to describe the super special secret agents. That mockery had to come from misplaced arrogance. There was no way a low-life like Ashe would have anything up her sleeve to stop the Vishkar agents from acting if the need arose. Unless... Ashe had managed to swipe the prototype from right under her nose with surprising ease. Ease that was partly due to her own negligence, but still.

She had to keep her guard up.

Ashe's grin was unbearable and slowly growing, but Symmetra knew that she told the truth.

She had not managed to stop thinking about her and wanted nothing more than to be in a room alone with that thief, that scoundrel, once more. She had brought excitement back into her life and that high was something she wouldn't stop chasing.

"You're right, Elizabeth. I did enjoy spending time with you, even though you tricked and robbed me."

"Come, now. That's the past." Ashe placed a hand on Symmetra's wrist, allowing a single digit to brush against her sensitive wrist slowly. "How's work been?"

"Busy."

Symmetra looked down at her glass, taking another quick sip.

"I thought I'd get fired because of you," added the architect.

Ashe gave the woman a sympathetic smile. "But you didn't, did you?"

She had a way with words, this one. Symmetra didn't know if Ashe was being honest or if she was simply playing with her, using her as she probably did so many others.

"Why don't you and I get reacquainted properly before this train reaches its destination? Once we're done, I've got a way for you to get your prototype back and a way for me to avoid losing my damned head."

"And by reacquainted you mean..."

"Me getting reacquainted with that thick ass of yours," Ashe said with a grin, beckoning Symmetra over with a movement of her head. A way with words.

Symmetra obeyed. She had always fancied herself so independent, but here, Ashe was in control. If she could live out the rest of her days as nothing more than a bandit's plaything...

The thought appealed to no part of her rational mind, and that was fine. Swinging one leg over Ashe's legs, Symmetra sat down on the gunslinger's lap. Only a few inches from Ashe's hungry eyes, Symmetra's fat, jiggling knockers struggled against the fabric of her dress, and her erect nipples begged for attention, tenting the fabric of both her dress and the flimsy black bra she wore.

Ashe wasted no time, leaning in to kiss Symmetra's cleavage while both hands cupped the enormous melons, pushing them upwards closer to her face. Her cock was harder than a steel beam and she knew the architect could feel her hardness pushing up against her big, round ass.

Seeing Ashe's black cowboy hat nearly falling off, Symmetra picked it up slowly and placed it upon her own head, cupping the back of Ashe's head as if to encourage her kisses. A soft gasp slipped past Symmetra's lips when her lover pulled at the hem of her dress, nearly ripping the garment to try and free the woman's mountainous knockers. "Hold on, now. This dress is worth quite a lot... Let me just..."

Ashe growled like a cat in heat, simply tugging once more and ripping the front of Symmetra's garment, revealing the two bra-clad breasts, large enough that they overflowed from the inadequate cups. "I'll just get you another," the tit-hungry woman said as she continued planting a flurry of kisses upon the soft skin of Symmetra's chest. "I've missed these... Goddamn."

Restless hands roamed across the dark slopes of the architect's tits, groping and fondling until the two hefty mounds were pulled free of their constrictive cups, delicious brown nipples erect and eager in the relatively cooler air of the train car. The fat orbs would find no rest, however, as Ashe soon had her hungry mouth back on track kissing and sucking every exposed inch of that vastness.

"Uhnn..." Symmetra bit her lower lip, trying in vain to suppress a moan as her sensitive nubs were assaulted by her partner's lips and tongue. She could barely hold in place, allowing her hand to slip into Ashe's shirt for her fingers to play with the outlaw's own considerable breasts, fingers wrapping around the woman's braless tit.

Leaning her head forward, Symmetra kissed Ashe's forehead, prompting the gunslinging, dick-wielding woman to look upwards. Their eyes locked in a brief moment of breathless heat before their lips smashed into each other, every passing moment increasing that intense desire, that burning fever that had infected both of them.

As they made out, tongues swirling and dancing against each other's, their clothes flew off their bodies, soon leaving them completely nude, with Ashe's pale prick nestled between both their sweaty forms, their chests pressed to one another. Their hands would roam across the other's skin, squeezing and caressing every available inch of flesh, bodies entwined as they made their way from the chair to the lush carpet at the center of the room.

Every moan and sigh from both participants could easily be heard outside the cabin by Ashe's gang.

With Symmetra on her back against the fluffy rug, Ashe's lips curled into that signature devious grin of hers as she pulled herself from the embrace. Her cowboy hat had long since fallen off Symmetra's head.

Flashbacks to their first encounter flooded Symmetra's mind when Ashe began kissing her way down her body, planting small, teasing pecks here and there. Reminded of how Ashe had expertly eaten her out, the architect found herself involuntarily giggling as her partner's tickling lips teased every exposed inch of sensitive skin. Red-painted lips kissed and sucked at Symmetra's ample charms, flattened somewhat by gravity and demanding attention.