Never Fuck a Big-Titted Assassin

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A time travel guy and the hot chick who wants him dead.
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*** An excerpt from SOUP Wars ***

Kerin groaned gently as loud and obscene noises from the room next to him disturbed his gentle slumber. He eyed Felina. The snoring fairy seemed unfazed by the ruckus. The young Gypsy covered his head with a heavy blanket, hoping it would muffle the obnoxious and rather obscene sounds. It didn't work well.

Kyern's new room was far smaller than the room he’d shared with the kid, but that hardly mattered. The only thing that mattered to Kyern was the two cantaloupe sized tits and the fine looking glassy-eyed chick attached to them. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” Etelvina had confessed as Kyern began stripping off his coat and armor. Her eyes had widened as Kyern quickly divested himself of his clothes. His physique was every bit as impressive as she had imagined it would be, and in one respect quite a bit larger, than any she had ever seen. Good lord in heaven, she had thought at the sight of his member, I hope I am up to this.

“Son, if the you treat a woman like a lady and you put her happiness ahead of yours, rest assured, you'll bang more pussy every single fucking time.” Kyern thought vaguely to himself, and Etelvina slowly divested herself of her dress. His grandfather, Hernán, had told him that the night before he lost his virginity and Kyern had taken the advice to heart. With that advice in mind, he kept his impatience in check and restrained himself from ripping her clothes off where she stood.

Yeah right, you don’t usually do this kind of thing, Kyern thought to himself as Etelvina’s expansive bosom was freed from its constraints. She kept her back turned to him as her hands moved in mysterious ways in front of her, performing what Kyern considered the longest strip tease in the history of foreplay. When at last, the dress fell and folded around Etelvina’s ankles, Kyern found himself looking at the classic hourglass figure of his dreams. She had rack and back. Impatience was pounding at the walls of his self-control as she turned slightly, her arms making a passable attempt at covering her breasts, and smiled at him shyly. “I am ready, Don Kyernan.” She whispered. Instantly, Kyern was right behind her, his hands enveloping her breasts, his lips brushing against her bare neck.

“Yes,” he whispered into her ear, feeling her smile as he did so. “I see that you are.” At first, the concept of oral sex had struck Etelvina as bizarre and revolting. With hygiene, being what it was in medieval Spain, it was understandable. Nevertheless, over half a century of experience in sweet loving, a tongue stud and a cybernetically enhanced stamina has a strange way of changing a girl's mind.

“Holy Mary, what are you doing?” Etelvina gasped. Kyern responded to her with only a cheesy grin. “Oh Don Kyernan, this is sin... nay... aye... nice!” Because of her profession, Etelvina had been tasted the lips of many a strange man before. In her mind, consummation consisted of nothing more than placing her legs in a welcoming position and being squashed by a heavy man who did only was necessary for him to impart his seed and get his satisfaction. This was not the case with this fierce and rather insane man who beaten the Mayor's son and the Deputy in cards. He did not show his passion in the accepted Christian manner.

This stranger, this obvious heathen, acted as if he was a dog or a Moor in the way he loved her. At times, he would sit her up or lift her knees above her head. He did his evil deed standing up, sitting down, upside down or lying sideways with his legs tangling around hers as if they were thorn bush branches. He would bounce her as if she were a little girl playing horse, but not quite. When Etelvina's father played this game during her infancy, it was never quite like this perverted version Kyern introduced to her. “Oh my God! Oh God!” Kyern noted that has her passion increased her vocabulary decreased. It was evident from her shrill and abrupt, hyperventilated squeals that she enjoyed this decadence, regardless of her moral objections.

“Yeah baby!” It occurred to Kyern that perhaps he should have come up with a better line, but the huge bouncing breasts and the plump ass on this naked Renaissance babe had practically taken over ninety percent of his conscious thought processes. The rest of it was concerning itself with pleasuring said woman who obviously was not used to getting such pleasure. His delight of finally being fucked for the first time in years, and gauging the levels of pleasure the woman beneath him was rising through. Time traveling didn’t suck as badly as he thought it did.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, OH!” Etelvina’s vocabulary had been reduced to a single word, repeated over and over. Her eyes were rolled back and her head was whipping from side to side, and Kyern felt he had better finish before the pleasure overload caused permanent brain damage.

"Could you tone it down Kyern, some of us are trying to sleep!” Kerin's anger could be heard through the thick walls from the room next door. Kyern ignored the kid's request. Getting laid was far more important than being polite, regardless of anyone else’s bitching.

Finally the big moment came just before Kyern did. A human earthquake, frantic screams, pledges of love and monosyllabic prayers to God overtook the girl like the ecstasy that overcame a mystic nun. The ecstasy soared skyward to reach its impossible peak and slowly, gently returned like falling snow. Etelvina lay immobile with tears in her eyes, her breasts heaving as she tried to get her breath back. Tremors of pleasure still rode through her body like wild horses, it was an effort to keep from passing out.

“Oh merciful God, that was the most beautiful experience in my life.” She whispered hoarsely. Kyern grinned with exhaustion and poorly disguised pride. “Yeah, I've been told that before.” He mumbled into the pillow.

The tears of joy in the hired woman's eyes turned into droplets of pain, as she remembered why she was with this man. The wrenching agony in the assassin's heart became as acute as the joy she had felt from loving gift Don Kyernan had shared with her. Any man, who was willing to give her such joy, obviously must love her in the way a troubadour loves the plebe maid with nobility hidden within her soul. This made her task all the more unbearable. One million was not enough, ten million was not enough, and there was no treasure in heaven or earth to match the price of such a man's life. But the contract had been signed, and if she did not carry out the deed... “Forgive me my beloved.” She whispered.

"Forgive you?" Oh shit, Kyern thought to himself, I hope she isn't expecting a commitment already. "For what?" Memories of wedding bells, and the inability to say no to weepy broads with a wide repertoire of guilt-tripping techniques caused abrupt knots to form in his stomach. Oh God, oh shit, oh fuck, Kyern thought, a shiver of fear crawling up his spine, anything but a marriage proposal.

Kyern still wore that worried look when a radical change in perspective overcame his world. This was the result of being lifted boldly off the bed and tossed unceremoniously on the floor by the very legs that had been so lovingly wrapped around him only moments before. Caught off guard, exhausted from his exertions, and struck by grudging admiration of any woman with that kind of strength and recovery time, he only just managed to avoid getting the wind knocked out of him as he landed.

"Ok" Kyern began as he started to rise, "you don't wanna cuddle that's fine wi-" The quick whisper of steel leaving leather had him on his feet in a second. A thump registered in Kyern's hearing as he rolled to his feet on the other side of the room. Looking down, he saw a long slim dagger had buried itself in the floorboards, its edge smeared with blood. Looking to his right, he saw she had taken a nick out of his shoulder.

Looking up to the bed, he saw Etelvina kneeling near the center. Tears now covered her cheeks, her left hand covered her breasts with the aid of the sheets, and two more daggers stood poised to fly in her right hand.

Oh good, Kyern thought with relief as the wound on his shoulder scabbed and healed over, she's not proposing to you, she's only trying to kill you. That I can deal with. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he waited for the next dagger.

Kyern had, over the span of his rather sordid life, slept with many women who later wanted to kill him, and was used to dealing with such situations. Usually the women were subtler in their attempts. Poisons, boobytraps, and not so accidental accidents were what he usually watched for. If they used knives, usually they waited until he was asleep. This girl definitely got ten out of ten for style.

Furthermore, women usually didn't want to kill him until after they had been married to him for a few weeks. Ten days was his record to date. This girl was trying for his hide scant seconds after he had just given her, what was quite possibly the best lay of her life. It was jumping the gun by quite a bit, and to Kyern's mind, just plain rude as well. She didn't look very happy about it, but that didn't change things at this point.

“Look babe," Kyern stalled for time until he could reach his own weapons, "I like S and M as much as the next guy but," The sentence cut short as another dagger flew towards him, but augmented reflexes and a now fully awake brain allowed him to sidestep it without breaking stride.

“Please, no lethal weapons in the bedroom." he finished with another cocky grin.

“Keep still, damn you!” She growled, as she let the last dagger loose.

Kyern might have snatched the dagger out of the air, but this was an excellent chance to make a point. He flung his arm up and allowed the dagger to imbed itself in his forearm. A slight wave of dizziness passed over him, and he realized the dagger had been poisoned. He waited until the dizziness had passed, knowing that the nanotech in his blood would seek out, isolate and neutralize all but the fastest acting toxins, before pulling the dagger out with a grunt of pain. Then he turned his arm towards Etelvina, watching her expression of wide-eyed disbelief as the wound healed and closed by itself.

“Impossible.” Etelvina gasped, letting the bed sheet fall from her breasts as she stared at Kyern. With even that minor wound, he should be dead or dying now, yet he wasn’t even swooning. The wound she had made, serious but not fatal, had closed up and healed before her very eyes. She stared into Kyern’s mad hazel eyes, and a shiver of genuine fear washed over her.

“The Gods help me. I think I am falling in love!” Kyern stood grinning before her, unashamed of his naked masculinity and apparently unfazed by her attempts on his life. She had six more knives hidden in her dress, each coated with a different deadly poison, but she doubted they would make any difference.

According to everything she knew, the speed he had moved at, the way he had healed his wound, and shrugged off poison capable of killing a man in seconds, all of it was impossible. Etelvina had never been inclined to believe in demons, on the basis that the world held enough evil without imagining more. However, this man could not possibly be human, and he was clearly no angel. She shivered and closed her eyes. There was only one option left.

With her eyes closed, she heard Kyern move around the room, gathering the other two knives. She felt the bed shift as he sat upon it, but she still would not look up. All will to live had left her, and all strength had failed. Fresh tears squeezed from her eyes as she twisted the bed sheet in her fists. He will kill me now, she thought bleakly, be he-man or demon or some strange mix of the two, there is only one action left to him. Well let death come, I don't want to live with this pain. “My only wish is that you Don Kyernan, who have shown me such a romantic heart, may grant me a quick and merciful death.”

A roughened hand raised her chin to look at him, but still her eyes remained closed. He will slit my throat, she thought, that is good. It is he assassin's way for an assassin's death. I will face it bravely.

"Etelvina." At the sound of her name on his lips she opened her eyes.

Don Kyernan held her knives out toward her by the blades, offering to let her take them back. The sweet smile on Don Kyernan’s lips, a smile that echoed in his eyes brought a smile to her own lips against her will. Still holding her chin he kissed her gently on the lips and said softly, "Would you care to try again?"

Experience had taught Kyern two things about women who wished to kill him. One, violent retaliation was what they expected if the attempt failed, and should therefore always be ruled out as a course of action. Two, once they had explained why they had tried to kill you, and you explained things and forgave them, you usually ended up having really great I'm-sorry-I-tried-to-kill-you sex. This part he was especially looking forward to, it having been an entire minute and a half since his last lay.

When she made no move to take the knives back from him he threw them down on the floor where her dress lay. She watched them fall, and then moved her eyes back to his face, searching it for something and obviously not finding it. Kyern kept his expression open and carefully concerned, as those violet blue eyes studied him. Most women at this point either renewed their attack or got dressed and stormed out. This could go either way. However, she surprised him.

"Oh, Don Kyernan... I..., I...,"she began as she put her hand to his rough, gray bearded cheek, then the tears burst into sobbing as she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. She felt his strong arms encircle her as he pulled her back down on the bed and let her cry into his chest, as he softly stroked her hair. The words of her final attack came echoing unbidden across her mind. "God help me," he had said, "I think I am falling in love."

Love… This emotion is to an assassin always the most distant. Why else would he whisper such sweet words in her ear, why bring her to heights of ecstasy that heaven itself must pale by comparison, why spare her life when she most obviously deserved death? Why, if not for love?

And if for love, was there any way she could not love him back?

Kyern lay on his back with Etelvina sobbing into his chest, stroking her hair uncertainly and whispering that everything was all right, even though he was sure it wasn't. He was certain her sorrow was genuine, though he would be damned if he could figure out why she was crying. Still slightly paranoid, he was keeping himself ready to roll in case she decided to go for one of her knives again. For the moment, however, he just held her close, stroked her hair and told her it was going to be all right. It was a time-honored technique, and usually worked. He just wished she would hurry up and stop crying so they could get to the I'm-sorry-I-tried-to-kill-you-let's-have-sex part.

Slowly, the sobbing quieted and she looked up into his face with red rimmed, but still beautiful eyes. Loved or not, there were things she still must learn.

“What are you, Don Kyernan?” she asked, looking deep into his eyes. “You cannot be human, and I cannot make myself believe you are a demon. I want to believe you are an angel, but if you are, I must hear it from your own lips.”

“I was human once, my dear.” Kyern confessed, “Now I am not so sure. Probably a little bit angelic, and a little bit demonic, but I am still human enough to fall in love. Whatever I am, it’s not something you can kill with knives or poisons, but I can still feel pain.”

“I see.” Etelvina said, examining his arm. There wasn’t even a scar.

“But enough about me,” Kyern said with false nonchalance, “Who and what are you, my dear?”

"I am an assassin," she began quietly, "sent by the order of the Assassin's Guild of Toledo to kill you."

"Well I guessed that much sweetheart," Kyern remarked smiling, though he had guessed no such thing. His admiration for this girl went up a few notches more. A Guild Assassin? Kick ass! Ten points out of ten for having the balls to admit that. "You want to go into the why and by who?"

"We don't ask for names," she said gaining confidence and seeing only love in his eyes, "but he was a red-headed Frenchman, a mercenary and a rich one as well. He paid me one million gold coins to have you dead by dawn. He didn't say why he wanted you dead."

Her description sounded familiar enough, meaning as it did that people who wanted him dead knew where he was sent a slight shiver of fear up Kyern's spine. For the moment however, danger from this Frenchman seemed far away, and this fabulous babe of an assassin was right here.

"Are you still planning to kill me?" Kyern asked suspiciously.

"Oh, mi amor," A real smile came to her lips and this time it reached her eyes." there is no reward in all the world that could persuade me to take your life now."

Kyern's assessment of this woman jumped about as high as possible with this remark, and it dragged his ego along with it. From what little he knew of the guild systems, assassins were very intolerant about breaking contract. This chick was willing to risk payback from every hit man in Toledo for him over a couple hours of passion. Several billion points out of ten for her taste in men, right there.

"So, you're willing to give up one million gold for me?" Kyern asked incredulous.

"Actually," she said coyly, "it is seventy five hundred thousand gold coins. The guild takes twenty five percent."

"Man and I thought I was a thief." He said grinning, and pulling her closer to kiss her full on the lips. He met with no resistance from her. Nothing she had confessed to him hinted of lies, and nothing in her body betrayed anything but desire for him. He wasn't sure if he could trust her fully yet, but at this point he was willing to take the chance.

"So," Kyern began when she broke the embrace and lay her head against his chest again, "when the guild finds out you have broken the contract, they will probably send someone to kill you. Good thing you will have me to watch your back."

That got a reaction. She pulled away from him so suddenly for a moment he thought she would go for her knives again. But, the expression she wore was easy enough to read. Here she was, a woman who had spent her life among killers and thieves, most of them probably men. Paid with gold dipped in blood, her targets had again, probably been mostly men. That kind of life would harden a woman into fierce independence, would she now be willing to depend on his protection?

"And of course," he added hastily, "when they find out I am alive they will doubtless send another assassin after me." Her features softened into worry, but only just.

"Good thing I will have you to watch my back." He said with a grin, watching the train of thought derail off a cliff and explode. Her features softened as she realized they would depend on each other, that he needed her as much as she needed him. Good God but this woman had, well whatever it was she had it. She was like someone out of an action video, the kind of woman you dreamed about when your bed is wet with a little surprise.

Under normal circumstances, Kyern thought to himself as she kissed his chest, her soft tits gently massaging his belly, I would not be latching myself onto a girl that is so obviously trouble with a capital T. Normally I would be gone, split, out of here, it's been real, thanks for the shag, write when ya get a chance. Just before her mouth reached his groin and coherent thought left for the evening, he realized that these were about as far from normal circumstances as you could reasonably get. Make-up-sex rocks!

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