Half-Life: You are Alyx Vance

Story Info
A day in the life of Alyx, from her perspective.
4.4k words
3.5
2.8k
1
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

HALF-LIFE: ALYXXX VR

The day has been long and uneventful. Before everything changed, you thought the arrival of the Combine would mean something awful and cataclysmic, with days full of panic and fear. You had been ready for every day to be a nightmare, but what you hadn't prepared for was just how boring and mundane the days could get. There were days when it was easy to forget that the Earth was even under interplanetary control. You are Alyx Vance, a young woman and daughter of a scientist and freedom fighter by the name of Eli. You, your father, and all of your fellow resistance members are responsible for the safety and protection of Black Mesa East, a large laboratory inside a larger lakeside complex that serves as your base of operations.

"Hey Alyx, wanna do something?" The guy sitting next to you asks.

You and John have been sitting in the same place all morning, watching monitors that show no signs of changing. Both of you have the unglamorous but important task of keeping watch over the compound, ready to sound the alarm if you spot any suspicious activity. The last five hours, however, have made you doubt the chances of anything noteworthy taking place in the immediate future.

"Like what?" You ask, pretty much open to any suggestions on how to pass the time.

"Well," He pauses, looking in your general direction but not directly at you. "We could always fool around a bit."

Although you're caught slightly off-guard by the proposal, you're flattered, and you aren't that surprised. You and John have been working with each other for the past few months, and you've enjoyed each other's company whenever a quiet moment has presented itself. While you aren't best friends exactly there has been pretty clear flirting from both of you, even if the vast majority of it seemed to be the innocent, playful kind. Now though, some of those previous interactions have gained fresh context. You give him a scanning look, looking over his messy, ear-length dark hair, smooth jawline and freshly shaven stubble. Ultimately, you feel comfortable with him, and you know that even if you turn him down your working relationship shouldn't become much more awkward.

"Okay, sure," You agree, smiling.

"Yeah?" He asks, seeming a bit surprised himself. "Cool."

Your eyes fall back to the glowing monitor. "...Then again, we still have a job here. I know it's boring, but..."

"Oh, don't worry about that," John says, trying to contain the subtle notes of triumph in his voice. "Ryan owes me a favor."

~~~

You and John are standing over his roommate's bed, the man beneath the covers sheltered substantially from the world outside with fortifications of blankets and a pillow held defensively over his head, his body contorted beneath the sheets in a way that doesn't look particularly comfortable.

"Ryan, get up. It's one-thirty," John says impatiently. You've known Ryan for almost as long as you've known his roommate, and he's a decent guy. You haven't worked with him much, but on slow days you've sat with him and John outside while the two of you watch him smoke and listen to him talk about the childhood fishing trips he went on with his dad, before the Combine came. He can be a little bristly when he's in a bad mood, but most of the time you like him just fine.

Ryan stirs and opens his eyes groggily, staring back at him. "...What's going on?"

"Hey Ryan..." John stalls, looking at you. "Remember that favor you owe me?"

By this point Ryan has lifted himself partially off the bed, looking back and forth at the two of you through crusty, half-open eyes.

"Could you cover our shift for us in the surveillance room?"

Ryan rubs his eyes, blinks several times and reaches over to his dresser. "Why?" He asks, putting his glasses on.

"Does that matter?" John asks defensively. "Me and Alyx just want to...take a break. We've been working all morning."

Ryan looks back at you. "Oh, okay. Gross. And I don't mean you, Alyx, I mean him. Or...both of you, maybe. But I do owe you John, so...fine."

"You're a man of your word," John says, helping him to his feet. "Thanks."

"Yeah, thank you," You agree. "You're a good sport, Ryan."

Ryan stretches and yawns, then grabs a pair of jeans slung over a chair. "Whatever." He takes his time putting them on and then shuffles out of the room. Before he closes the door he pauses and looks back over his shoulder.

"Just...not on my bed, okay?" He asks, sounding somewhat exasperated. "Think you can manage that?"

"Of course man, no worries," John says, giving him an informal yet respectful two finger salute. Ryan nods in solemn acknowledgement.

Once he's disappeared down the hall, the door closed behind him, you turn to John. "So...what do you wanna do first?" You ask. "I kinda...don't wanna do anything that could even possibly get me pregnant."

"Hmmm, okay," John pauses, looking down at the floor and appearing to ponder things for a moment. "Well...you could sit on the bed, get comfortable, and after we kiss a little bit I could go down on you?"

Your cheeks feel warm as an invigorating shiver washes over you.

"Okay," You nod, sitting on his bed. All of a sudden, you hear familiar, thunderous footfalls coming down the hall. "Oh no..." You mutter, putting a hand to your head.

John frowns, his reaction fairly similar to yours. His expression is not one of fear, but of annoyance.

You stand and open the door to find a hulking, mechanical beast making its way down the hallway at a jaunty clip. It gallops towards you like an overgrown, eight foot tall canine.

"I think Dog wants to play," You say, sighing heavily.

You leave the threshold of the room and Dog comes to a sliding halt in front of you. The sound of harshly scraping metal fills the hall. Your father built Dog when you were just a little girl, to be your friend, your companion, and your protector. Dog is pretty good at his specific purpose, but a lot of the time he just acts like a real dog...despite not looking at all like one. You lovingly pet his angular, inhuman face with both hands and kiss him on his metal head, unable to stay annoyed at him for any significant length of time. You aren't the most enthusiastic about seeing him right now, but Dog doesn't know any better.

"Hey boy," You say, pressing your head against his. "I know you wanna play, but I'm...a little busy right now, with a friend of mine. Why don't you go play outside? I'll come see you later."

"Hey Dog," John says, stepping close to the two of you and adding his own hand to your petting. "Remember me?"

Dog looks in John's direction, but it's hard to tell if there's any recognition there. He certainly appreciates the additional affection if nothing else. Dog nuzzles his metallic face against your soft human one and then abruptly turns and lumbers away, leaving you and John to watch him go as the sound of his crashing footfalls slowly fade.

"Well, always nice to see Dog," John says, arms folded approvingly.

"Most of the time I would agree," You say. "Though I can't say he didn't kill the mood a little." You laugh and shake your head.

You step back into the room with John, who closes the door after you. "Well, why don't I see if we can fix that?" He asks slyly.

Smiling, you sit back down on the bed and take off your beat-up brown jacket. Then you unzip your gray hoodie, leaving nothing but your brown sports bra to cover your bare skin. You put both of the discarded garments on the bed beside you, then lift your arms up to meet him when John leans in to kiss you. You grab his head and pull his face against your lips, your fingers curling in his dark tangles of hair, his stubble somewhat abrasive against your cheeks. He kisses you tenderly for a moment longer, then raises up to kiss you on the forehead, just below your headband. He kisses you on the chin briefly before moving to your neck. You breathe softly and feel your nipples hardening as he plants his lips delicately upon your skin, his scratchy shaven face irritating but tantalizing in its tactile nature. His kisses continue down your neck and along the bony parts of your shoulders, and you feel the space between your legs getting hotter and damper as he goes. Your breathing quickens slightly and you feel the hot clamminess of sweat that isn't there yet.

John grabs the hem of your bra and lifts it carefully up and over your breasts and sensitive nipples, letting it settle back into place just below your shoulders. He leans in and gives one of your stiffened nubs a lick.

You moan and let your head fall back. You exhale and look down at John, who looks back at you and licks your nipple again, pushing it ever so slightly up before letting it settle back into place. He brings his face to your breast to close his lips around it, and you moan again. His hand goes to your unoccupied breast and gently presses down on it while your hands return to the back of his head. He sucks your nub gently inside his mouth, nudging it back and forth with his tongue while the fingers on his hand tease and graze your other nipple. Your underwear is pretty thoroughly soaked at this point, and a part of you desperately wants him to go lower, but another part of you is really enjoying this. Your eyes close and you let out a shuddering sigh.

"Oh man..." You mutter.

He moves his head to your other breast, his face and hand switching places and roles. He gives your nipple a few licks, wetting it with his tongue before drawing it between his lips. You inhale slowly and open your eyes on the release. Looking down you fumble for the buckle of your belt, pulling the pin from the strap and pulling the end from its silver clasp. Leaving the two pieces of your belt dangling, you move on to undo the button on your jeans and pull the zipper down as John continues to suck at the hardened peak of your chest. He stays there just a bit longer, then stops, moving his head to kiss down below your breasts and slowly down your stomach. He plants a gentle kiss on your navel, then crouches down to help you with your faded denim pants, pulling them down your legs. With his help you get your jeans down around your ankles and over your still-tied shoes. John tosses them in a heap on the bed next to you and then returns to peer at your lap.

"Damn, you're a mess for me, huh?" He asks, grinning, referring to the undergarments he can now partially see through.

You shrug awkwardly, your face ripening. "Guess so."

He carefully slides your soaked underwear down your thighs and along the same path as your jeans. You kick off your shoes and allow him to remove the offending article of clothing and get it out of both of your ways.

"Don't worry about it," He says, placing it delicately at the foot of his bed before you can object. "I can always change my sheets later."

John kneels down on the floor in front of you and brings his head between your thighs, slowly pushing his face farther into the gap. He presses his tongue firmly against your soft, arousal-stained flesh and licks steadily up your labia. Your eyes wince shut impulsively and your breathing becomes noticeably unstable as his tongue continues to caress your privates. His licking is gentle but insistent and you try your best to control your shaky breath. Your hand comes back to rest atop his bed of oily black hair and you moan belaboredly.

He presses himself closer into your thighs, holding his tongue straight out as he moves his head rhythmically up and down.

"Ahhhhh, shit..." You swear under your breath and look down at him, feeling the heat of his own breath on your crotch. John uses his hands to spread you farther apart, getting his lips and tongue deeper into your more vulnerable portions. You put your hand over one of his, rubbing the rough backs of his knuckles appreciatively. He pauses briefly to look up at you with narrowed eyes and a shiver runs down your back. You definitely feel like you made the right choice to blow off work today, even if a small part of you feels bad for dumping that on Ryan. The other parts of you are too preoccupied to care right now.

Leaving his fingers behind, John brings his lips to flirt with your clitoris, which is still uncomfortably sensitive. While his fingers stroke the outside and shallow inside of your labia, his lips brush against your bud. Your whole body flinches, tensing up, and you reactively pull his head back.

"Ahh...careful," You caution, breathing heavily.

"Of course," He replies. "Sorry."

"No worries," You say, smiling supportively down at him.

His fingers continue working on your pussy, rubbing your swollen lips with a delicate, sensual rhythm while his mouth lingers farther up. He breathes softly over the patch of hair just above your clit and the tiny hairs all down your arms electrify. He lets his next warm sigh settle over your clit as he strokes your strip, prompting mournful groans from your lips. He breathes in and lets out another, letting the static energy sweep across your prickling skin. He lingers there just a bit longer, then leans in and gives your bud the lightest of kisses. You moan, and as he continues to carefully kiss you there, your fingers tighten in his hair.

"That's good," You say, a little short of breath. "Just...keep doing what you're doing."

John silently agrees and licks your clit, a little more confidence behind his actions now. He proceeds to test the boundaries of your sensitivity, licking you sparingly, his fingers slowing.

"Should I put them in?" He asks.

"Go for it," You answer back.

He pushes his fingers gently inside you, and you can feel them probing and exploring your shallows as he leaves tiny beads of saliva on your clit. Your hand falls from his head limply and you groan, your head tilting back and your eyes following suit. His fingers move deeper, maintaining their same slow rhythm as he licks around and on your bud. Your breathing quickens as your knees draw in closer to your body and you feel yourself tensing up. His tongue flicks and laps at your clit delicately, and he looks up at you one last time to meet your gaze with his steely eyed one.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" You cry out, twitching, seizing his head with your hands, feeling like you need something to hold onto. Your body seems to become more compact, crunching itself into a tight ball of explosive nerves. Immediately after, you shiver violently, waves of pleasure running from your head to your socks. Your head feels light, euphoric, a little dizzy. And when you finally come down from that high, John is there, his fingers covered in and dripping with your juices, a sticky line of shimmering fluid dripping down his five o' clock shadow.

You breathe heavily and slump back against the wall, laughing weakly in disbelief. Beads of sweat drip down the sides of your head. "John that was..." You hold your hand to your face. "...Where did you learn how to do that?"

"Ah, I've had a couple girlfriends to practice on," He shrugs, smiling.

"You gotta let me pay you back for that," You say, panting. In your opinion, he's more than earned it.

"No objections here," He says, standing up and grabbing a tissue from his nightstand to wipe his face. The two of you switch places, with John sitting on the bed and you kneeling at his feet.

Before you can do anything, he hands you a pillow. "Oh...for my knees?" You ask. "Shit man, I didn't think about that for you, sorry..." You put the cushion under your knees, a little embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it," He replies. "We'll remember for next time...assuming there is a next time." You don't answer, seeing as it's not a question, but you don't want to rule out the possibility. You reach for his belt and start fiddling with the buckle as he sits back.

With John's help, his belt unhooks easily and you pull his brown slacks down around his knees. His boxers are visibly tented, no doubt from attending to your needs previously. You stare at the outline of his erection through his pants and your heart flutters a little. Just like he did for you, you help him get his outer layer of clothes off and put them with yours, pulling your bra back into place while you're at it.

"Do you have any water?" You ask. "My mouth is a little dry. And, well, I may need it."

"Sure," John nods. "No need to justify it. There should be some in the fridge over there. Would you mind getting me one while you're up?"

You nod and thank him, turning your attention away from him for a moment and finding the miniature electric fridge on the other side of the room. You crouch down to open the little metal door and grab two water bottles. You return to John's side of the room and kneel back down on the pillow. He takes his bottle and thanks you, while you put yours on the nightstand next to you. You take a quick swig and screw the cap back on, feeling your mouth regain its natural moisture. You carefully lift the band of John's boxers up and over his bulge, then slide them down his thighs.

You reach out and take his penis in your hand, tilting it back towards you. You summon up the saliva in your mouth and spit on the tip. You spread it over his head and shaft, stroking his cock gently a few times, then pause to pull back the skin and give the head a few testing licks. You feel your nipples stiffening all over again, and your nethers start to moisten. Your cheeks burn and your forehead feels warm.

You close your eyes and take John into your mouth, bobbing slowly up and down on his lap. You can smell the heat and sweat of his body in the darkness, radiating off his legs. He has a good smell, a clean, freshly bathed smell that is just a little bit musky. He moans softly and you feel a hand come to rest on the back of your head, slowly stroking your hair. You open your eyes to study his face. His eyes are shut and his head and body are slumped against the back wall, his bottom lip hanging open, his whole face twisted in a tired, tortured expression. When his eyes open again they quickly dart away from yours, John making a concerted effort to avoid your gaze.

You chuckle to yourself and turn your attention back to your task, closing your eyes again and letting him save face. You feel the heat of his member as it slides back and forth over your tongue, feeling the beat of his pulse every so often. The taste of skin, flesh and salt is not your favorite thing, but it's hard to remember a time in recent memory that you were this aroused. Your nipples are like sharp little rocks poking into the fabric of your bra, uncontrollable shivers run down your neck every few seconds and your heart is hammering away in your chest. On top of that, his hand feels good on your hair. Breathing through your nose, you pass John in and out of your mouth, using your hand to hold him steady.

You take a short break to come up and get some water, your mouth getting dry again. While you tilt the bottle back, you stroke his length and he lets himself lock eyes with you this time. He looks physically tested, but looks like he's enjoying himself. You're glad.

The bubble of spit drips down from your lips and covers John's cockhead, your hand moving to coat his shaft in the hot, translucent fluid soon after. You take him past your lips once more, feeling his hand return to your hair soon after, a sensation that you missed. Cupping his balls in your free hand, you keep your head going at its steady pace, pausing every so often to give his remaining inches a few enthusiastic pumps. You respect his awkwardness and focus on what you're doing, not stopping or slowing down when you hear his moans become increasingly desperate and frequent. You feel his hand running through your hair over and over, and you hear his voice quaver.

"F-fuck..." He stammers. "I...I think I'm close."

You come up and look at him, keeping your hand moving below. "Thanks for the warning," You say. "Do you...happen to have any towels?"

12