“Thanks for calling me on such short notice, Sam.”
“No problem, Lara. What’s this about?”
Lara Croft, adventurer archaeologist extraordinaire, licked her lips in a combination of nervousness and indecision. She and Sam had hit it off for quite a while, but that was in the past: distance and changing lives meant that they couldn’t be what they used to. She needed to be able to talk to her ex, now “just” her friend once again, without getting awkward.
At least they weren’t seeing each other face-to-face. Then Lara would really be tripping over her words. She had to work on that.
“Right. I’ll cut to the chase: I’m low on funding.”
“I’m not begging you for money, Sam. I have what I need to live and conduct some short solo expeditions. But all the samples I’m bringing back...I don’t just need somewhere to store them, Sam. I need access to a laboratory.”
“Whatever for?” Sam sounded incredulous, but not rudely so. Merely blindsided by the specifics of Lara’s request. She probably didn’t know exactly what Lara was asking for in the first place.
“Sample analysis, Sam. The Croft Manor has all the storage I could ever need, but the cryptography references, the equipment, the potential for restoration is all locked behind price barriers even I can’t overcome.” Lara sighed, leaning back in her chair and kicking her legs up onto her desk. “And besides, I need to coordinate with other scientists. I’m too much of a generalist to really get in deep with the individual histories and ciphers of all these cultures.”
“Right, and you’re not a looter, so holding onto them isn’t an option. Hm…” Sam trailed off, and Lara knew she was chewing her lip the way she used to when she sank deep into thought. A terrible habit, but Lara had never tried to stop her.
“That’s why I’m calling you, Sam. Do you have any connections, any leads? I suppose I could just approach some of these institutions, but...well, to be frank, I don’t have the brand-name recognition yet. My credentials and artifacts are good, but money and public appeal seem to be worth more for the places I’d be looking for.”
Sam kept humming, and Lara resisted the urge to ask her if she needed to repeat herself.
“Well, there is one person I know.”
“Who?” Lara tried not to sound too excited, but the anticipation crept into her voice. The possibility of an answer to her problems was enough to let her enthusiasm seep through.
“A journalist, works with some big science magazine. National Geographic-type, or maybe the actual National Geographic, I’m not sure. He mentioned that they’re looking to do profiles on up-and-coming young scientists in various fields, and they were looking for an archaeologist. I can’t speak to the specifics, but I imagine it’d at least get your name out there enough for the labs to notice you, and you might get some cash out of it.” She sounded less sure of herself the longer she spoke, but Lara didn’t care. The opportunity to get some publicity was alluring, even if she only wanted it to help further the study of history, rather than for personal fame. The specifics didn’t dampen her spirit, or her joy.
“That’s brilliant, Sam! Thank you!”
“Happy to help. I’ll email you his contact information and let him know to expect you to reac-”
“Where did you meet him?”
Sam stopped midsentence. The line grew quiet, too quiet, until Lara couldn’t even hear Sam breathing into the phone. She was about to ask if Sam was still on the line when the magnitude of her friend’s silence hit her.
“Yup.” Sam sounded both sheepish and slightly proud of herself, somehow.
“What? So I hooked up with him, big deal.” Lara’s friend kept her voice down, but an undercurrent of defensiveness flowed beneath her voice, as if Sam was challenging Lara: We’re not together anymore. You don’t get to be jealous.
Lara wished it was jealousy she was feeling. It was easier to sort out than the awkward mixture of embarrassment and sputtering confusion she was embroiled in.
“You want me to partner with one of your one-night-stands?”
“Well.” Now Sam definitely sounded proud of herself. Of course she did. “Wasn’t ‘just’ a ‘one-night’ stand, if you catch my meaning.”
“How well do you even know him?”
“Well enough.” Sam snapped. “And besides, Lara. You know me. You know I’d take this seriously. Please, trust me on this. He’s a good guy, and he’ll help you out with this.”
Lara caught her retort in her throat before she said something she might regret. Sam had a point. No matter what had passed between them, Lara still trusted Sam more than almost anyone else. If Sam had faith in this journalist to do right by Lara, then she had to give him a chance.
“All right, Sam. Thank you.”
A chuckle from the other end of the line. Good. Things were good again. Lara let her shoulders relax.
“You’re welcome. And he’s got a big dick, if you get lonely after those interviews.”
“All right, and...recording over. Thank you, Miz Croft.”
Lara smiled. Sam had been right: the young man had been nothing but cordial, accommodating, capable and professional. She had been unfair to scrutinize her friend so closely in this matter.
After their first few interviews, she’d talked him through a dive she was planning off of the coast of Barbados, following a clue she’d found in Trinidad and Tobago. The harbor logs she’d found suggested that an existing, well-known shipwreck might actually be a fragment of Abubakri II’s lost Atlantic expeditionary fleet. The idea that an Imperial Mali exploration across the ocean might have left evidence of African voyages to the Americas, not too far off east of the West Indies, was impossibly exciting.
Her new partner—and she’d already gotten used to calling him that—had offered to pitch in for the expedition, and here they were, recording an interview on the deck of the ship she’d rented for the purpose. It was a smaller vessel, meant for coasting rather than multi-day voyages, and thus had barely any room indoors aside from the bridge. Fortunately, she still had space to spread out a towel on a lashed plastic box and call it a pool chair.
She looked over her sunglasses at him and chuckled. “Remember, I asked you to call me Lara. If we’re taking a business trip across the Atlantic Ocean, you can call me by my first name.”
“Right-o. Sorry, Lara.”
“It’s quite alright.” Now that the immediate concern of the interview were dealt with, she could think ahead: she’d dragged them out here bright and early to miss the pier rush, but now that they were at the site she was wondering if it was better wait until noon before diving. The midday sun would offer better light and, perhaps, a twinge of comfort: coastal ocean predators were less active in the middle of the day, after all. Lara wasn’t frightened of sharks, especially the less dangerous ones in the Caribbean, but she wasn’t going to take any chances on a small vessel with only one other person as backup.
So, she had some time to kill until she was ready to dive. And, because she’d thought ahead to when she’d actually be drying off, she’d snuck a two-piece underneath the clothes she’d be taking off to slip into her wetsuit. She could leave her hair in a ponytail for now, but she’d have to let it down when she dived.
Now was as good a time as any to tan. And even if she’d kept things professional so far...truth be told, Lara was a bit curious as to what Sam had said about her new partner. After all, he’d been enough for Sam to come back to, and she could be quite a picky woman when it came to who was allowed to see her at her most vulnerable.
A little bit of teasing never hurt anyone.
He stumbled away when she began hoisting her shirt up, sputtering in shock until her slinky top, barely more than a bra, came into view. A quick shove downward of her shorts revealed a similarly stringy swimsuit bottom. Really, she might as well have been wearing panties, what with how little it covered.
“Lara, what are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?” She winked at him. “Getting some sun. We have a bit of free time, don't we?”
A pause. She turned away, stretching her legs and fluffing her chest, barely restrained from her breasts. Was she being subtle? Not really, but she didn’t care. She was having fun, and hopefully he was too. With a final pop of her neck, she lay herself flat on her stomach on the covered box, undid the back of her top, let her legs past her thighs hang off the edge, rested her chin in her hands and forced her back into a curve.
She was well aware that this angle made her bum absolutely pop, especially as unrestrained as it was by the string disappearing between her cheeks. Her associate was enjoying quite the show and now it was time to see if he’d play along.
“Mind getting some of that sunscreen lotion for me? I left it in my bag, just over there.” Lara inclined her head, and her partner raised an eyebrow incredulously.
“Of course, Lara.” A shuffle out of her peripheral vision, a zipping sound, and she saw him hold out the desired bottled liquid before her. Blast, he wasn’t taking the bait. If she got much more obvious, it’d spoil the fun, but she didn’t have many options left. She didn’t want to be cruel, but stringing him along a bit couldn’t hurt...and if Sam was telling the truth, this might be more entertaining than even that. He was handsome and well-built, but not overwrought with muscle tissue. She’d been with worse partners.
“Ah, I’m so comfortable here. Would you mind applying it to my back?”
It was a stupid cliché, the intro to many a bad porno and not too many good ones. Even if it was hard to apply such liquid to her back, given her prior behavior her request could really only have one context. She could hear him grind his teeth. Was she pushing him too far? Probably, but he could take it, and teasing him was proving to be more and more entertaining by the minute.
“Miz Croft, you’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”
The game was up. She’d overplayed her hand, pushed it past what could have been laughed off as teasing and crossed into open flirting. All that remained was to see how much farther she could go before things escalated.
“Perhaps I am,” Lara clicked her tongue and kicked her legs, resting her chin on the towel and folding her arms beneath her neck. “Would you care to push onward and verify for yourself, or do you need me to spell it out?”
No response. The waves lapped against the boat’s hull, and for a terrifying moment Lara thought that she’d scared him off. She’d let him get too much of an idea of how far she was willing to go and she’d have to walk this back to professionalism.
She opened her mouth to say something that might rectify the situation—an apology, a reassurance, something—only to hear the unmistakably snap of a bottle unlatching, the hiss of pressure around a point, and cool gel on her back, just below her shoulders.
Lara immediately melted into his application, relaxing her back and letting his fingers work the sunscreen lotion into her skin. He had strong hands, but right now, whirling and spreading lotion on her back, now drifting up to her shoulders, his touch was light and delicate. Almost as if he was concerned that he’d break her. She was tough—she had to be to survive what she’d been through—but she enjoyed the care with which her journalist friend rubbed lotion onto her back.
He finished her shoulders, giving her a final stroke of his fingers along her shoulder blades, then letting his hands move downwards along her spine, stopping at the small of her back. She spread her legs to let him stand between them, and he pressed a knuckle on each hand into the little indentations before pausing. She could feel his breath cooling her freshly-lathered back, whistling between his teeth, drifting through the breeze-less air.
The moment dragged out. Lara could hear him grunt and shift on his feet, likely nursing a considerable erection beneath his swim trunks. To be expected, given what was happening and the perfect view of her ass cheeks he was getting, standing behind her. He resumed applying sunscreen to her back, now rubbing it in slow circles with his thumbs, his fingers slipping downwards to grip her stomach near her bellybutton. Lara flushed a little deeper than she already was, noticing that if she’d been nude, he’d be in a perfect position to pull his trunks down and slip into her, grasping her around the waist above her rear…
Her focus slipped, and she missed the sound of nylon sliding down skin until something long, thick and hard slapped against her butt. Lara blinked, stunned into silence, and he took her lack of protest as encouragement to continue, smacking what she now knew was his dick back and forth across her backside, watching them quake and shudder beneath the force of his hefty length. Sam was right. He was big, even better than she had suspected. Maybe she’d gotten a bit over her head, but there was no going back now.
He seemed to agree, swinging his cock onto her skin harder and faster, seeming to delight in how it vibrated against him and the dull red marks he was starting to leave on Lara’s skin. He could probably go at this all day, but he wanted more. More stimulation, more friction, more action. The kind he could only get if he went further.
Without waiting to see if Lara had anything to say about it, he gripped her waist a little harder and jabbed his cock between her ass cheeks, letting it glide along her thong, pillowed by her rear, only stopped when it prodded his fingers. He wasn’t holding her buttocks together to squeeze his dick, but it felt great already, and so he set about sawing his prick forward and backward.
Lara could have kicked him away, or struggled out of his grip, or even just vocalized a desire to stop. She had absolutely no intention of doing so. She’d reaped this whirlwind, pushing him farther than he’d been willing to endure, and was happy to enjoy the benefits. Yes, there was a degrading element to what was happening. Her partner was steadily ploughing his cock between her ass cheeks, his balls riding up against her thong on the upstroke without a care for her own input on the matter, existing as nothing more but an ass for him to play with. But somehow, that only made Lara even more excited. She was proud and brooked no disrespect in her professional and adventuring career, but privately, she couldn’t get enough of feeling used by a man like this. Something about the way her body was driving him to such lengths, egging him on to hump away at her arse, was deliciously enticing, bringing a warmth to her cheeks and rear that she couldn’t attribute to just the sun on her back.
She felt him speed up and bit her lower lip. He didn’t seem like he was stopping, thrusting his long, proud rod between her muscled asscheeks. Was he going to cum, spilling himself outside of her, driven to his peak by little more than the feeling of her butt pillowing him and the knowledge that he was dry-humping Lara fucking Croft on a boat in the Caribbean? Probably. She knew she’d have that effect on him.
Which was why when she felt his dick slip underneath her thong and slide up along her cunt, pressing lightly against her lower lips, she squealed in a mixture of shock and arousal.
“Miz Croft, you’re soaked back here, dripping onto the towel. It’d be so easy to just...push forward a bit and slip inside, to wrap you around my cock and pound you while we bobbed on the waves. Would you like that, Lara?”
Was he going to enter her, finally, spreading her pussy around the shaft that had tamed Sam, a dick Lara hadn’t even looked at yet?
“Please.” She hadn’t meant to beg that much, but she felt how big he was back there. The thought of being speared on that stiffness was driving her wild, and she was quite certain he was looking for that kind of reaction. So she played it up, letting the word roll into a plaintive whine.
“Not yet.” Her answer was followed with a gentle “tut-tut” from behind her, and then a lighthearted chuckle as the cockhead prodding her slit shifted upwards, poking at the puckered star of her asshole. “Maybe I should try your ass first, Lara. A woman like you has probably tried that kind of thing before. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
Ah. He was going to do it like that. Take the aggressive road first, breaking boundaries to make the future stuff that much easier. She could take a dick up her butt, and he was right even if she wasn’t sure what he was insinuating about a “woman like her”: she’d done it before, but not with anything so big. She really shouldn’t agree, at least not yet, but her arousal outweighed her fear. She took in a breath to speak, but he cut her off.
“Nah. I think I’ll just keep laying into your ass, though not like that. I swear, Lara,” He let his hands trail down from her hips to trace over her butt, squeezing and slapping gently, the strikes more like taps against her rear than full-on, red-inducing smacks, like he’d been doing with his length earlier. “I could fuck this all day. Your work takes you places, keeps you strong, and now I get to reap the benefits.”
His words were flustering her, but she didn’t feel worse for his teasing. He hadn’t truly insulted her yet, and the taunts were only arousing her that much more. He might not be fucking her in the butt, or even in her lower lips, but he could do whatever he wanted as far as she was concerned. She just needed that dick on her: it being in her could come later.
His hands moved back to Lara’s hips, and he started to really go at her, sawing and ploughing and pumping his cock between her ass cheeks as fast as he could on their unsteady surface, his balls smacking against the thong covering her cunt again each time his dick poked out from between her butt. He wasn’t pushing her ass together, but her buttocks were still forming a perfect little valley to fuck, and he was definitely close.
He didn’t give her any warning, and Lara didn’t need any. With a grunt, he thrust forward as hard as he could, nuts squeezed between her cheeks, and came, spilling out onto her back. She couldn’t see his cum, but she could definitely feel that first rope, warm and sticky, scattering across her bare back. The next she felt on the back of her head, tangling in her head, already clinging heavily to her ponytail, and the third shot across her shoulder. None of the rest had the same vitality, dripping down from his cockhead to pool between her ass cheeks. The way he’d pumped against her, so driven by her body that he’d been able to so utterly expend himself so powerfully, was something she couldn’t wait to be on the more direct receiving end of.
“Well.” He loosened his grip on her hips, and she let out a breath she didn’t realized she’d been holding. “I suppose that’s that, then. Didn’t mean to pop off so fast, Lara.”
He wasn’t doing a very good job disguising the glee in his voice, nor did his erection flag, still turgid against her skin. He certainly was not done. But she knew what it was like. He wanted her to beg, to plead for him to continue as if her life depended on it.
It didn’t, but for a split second it might as well have. She couldn’t imagine being without that dick on her, in her, around her.
“I want more.”
“Come again?” He smiled and stepped away from her butt, removing that glorious thickness from between her cheeks. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with something so to-the-point.
“God, it felt so...fuck, your dick’s the best thing I’ve felt on me in forever. I want more.” She implored, her attempt at a coarse declaration devolving into a wheedle. “I want your cock, now. The thought of it being near me is driving me batty, and right now I can’t damn well think of a time that I want it to not be around me.”
“That’s better.” His grin was audible, and he moved over to her side, and then he was in front of her. “Now, why don’t you show me exactly what you meant by that?”
She looked up and saw his dick, sticky with sweat and whatever small amounts of his cum had coated it, and knew she meant every word of what she’d said. It was perfect, thick and visibly throbbing and twitching as if he hadn’t just bust a nut all over her back, pulsing with vitality. The shaft disappeared in the curls around the base, situated above two balls that looked so packed-full and heavy that Lara was left with little doubt that, yes, he could manage more than a few loads at once. At, crowning it all, was the cockhead, thicker than the rest, a smooth, weighty tip that was just begging for her mouth on it.
She was struck by the scent as the breeze changed and she scooted closer. Salty, heady, and deeply distracting, the sort of unwashed smell she associated with exercise and rest. In other words, a comforting, almost homey sort of smell. Addled as she was by the sight and smell of his dick, Lara Croft didn’t see anything wrong with finding this man’s dick as inviting as the scent of her own home. Why should she? She’d just conceded, after all, that she’d be happy to spend the rest of her life at the disposal of this dick, or at least the next few hours until the novelty wore off.
Lara enclosed her lips around his cockhead, tasting the leftover load from his last orgasm, letting it slip between her lips and pool onto her tongue. She’d swallow it when she got to the bottom, she vowed, as she planted a kiss right underneath the base of his cockhead and began feathering them down the underside of his length. All of her senses were consumed what she was doing. Tasting the cum and sweat of him and her on his dick, the cockhead gliding past her nose, her vision nothing but thick, heavy cock, her ears full of the sound of his moans and her own breathing. Even her hands, reaching forward to cup his balls, joined in on the fun, rolling the hefty orbs between her fingers, trying to take everything in of him that she could.
Lara was a devotee to dick, or at least his dick. She swallowed down the spunk she’d kissed off of him, even though she hadn’t reached the bottom, too consumed by wanting to fill her mouth with something else to care. Her hands slipped from his nuts as her lips grew closer, one grabbing the base of his shaft, the other gripping his thigh as his sack slipped between Lara’s lips.
They were as full and heavy as she’d expected, filling her mouth with the weight that promised copious loads. Her nose, buried as it was in the folds of his scrotum, didn’t exist for any reason other than to take in the mind-numbing scent of dick, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her eyes, full of longing and begging and desperation, stared up at him around the dick in her way, and she knew that she had to look absolutely perfect there.
Lara was convinced now that few things were better than absolutely reveling in cock worship, both for the worshipper and the worshipped. Lara wasn’t very religious, but she could see the appeal, in finding something larger than oneself to supplicate and connect with. Only, instead of an ineffable figure, it was the massive and very tangible dick on her face. For him, too, it had to be one of the best experiences of his life. Lara Croft, gulping down his balls, stroking his shaft, begging for more while his last cumshot lay strewn across her back and between her butt, evidence of how utterly exultant she was now to his dick.
He didn’t speak, and didn’t need to. Lara had an idea of what he might say, and she welcomed it, but in the meantime his silence was letting her fill in the gaps while she gripped his cock and slurped on his nuts, utterly consumed by him. Maybe he’d call his dick what it was, a bitch-breaker of epic proportions. It had certainly broken this bitch, and that’s what she was, a bitch to his shaft, ready to fall to her knees and demonstrate just how much she adored it.
He grunted and moved a hand to the back of her head, tangling in her cum-soaked hair next to where his cockhead pressed into her locks, but he didn’t push her down, instead letting his weight remind her of what was to come. Lara could almost hear his balls churning, and she could definitely feel them tensing and catching between her teeth. All she had to do was wait and keep gazing lovingly up at the man to whom that lovely, perfect cock and balls was attached to.
Lara first felt his spunk firing off into her hair, but she didn’t stop even as it matted it further, instead dutifully attending to the cumming balls with her tongue and lips, humming and sucking as hard as she could to get out more of that hot, sweet load. The rest of his orgasm was a blur of seed and muscle, her world becoming a conglomerate of hot dick, heavy balls, grunting, and humming, but she was vaguely aware of his load shooting out across her back again, no doubt glazing her ass further.
And no matter how distracted she got, Lara never stopped worshiping those perfect nuts. Eventually, his cum was dripping down her forehead, pooling below her eyes, but she stayed strong and waited until he stepped to the side before breaking her gaze.
“That was…” He started, then thought better of it. Why try to characterize the sublime, the borderline spiritual? Neither of them were qualified to do that, and attempting to might spoil the moment. So he contented himself with taking a seat, pushing Lara back and off the box until she was kneeling before it and he was on it, legs spread, dick still gloriously erect. She knew what she had to do.
With a grin and a sharp, knowing glint in her eyes, Lara Croft leaned forward and nuzzled into his cock, resting her nose against his balls, feeling him swell up beneath her touch. The dive could wait until tomorrow, and they’d need a shared hostel bed tonight.
Sam grunted and turned towards the cellphone buzzing by her bedside, blinking sleep out of her eyes. Who was messaging her this late? A clumsy glance at the screen told her it was Lara, but that didn’t make any sense. She knew Sam would be asleep at this hour, and the time difference wasn’t that bad.
So it had to be serious. With as much urgency as she could muster in the dead of night, Sam flicked to activate the message, and nearly startled herself fully awake.
It was a video file of Lara, all right. What was unusual was the man with her, the man she recognized as the journalist she’d recommended to her archaeologist friend. The camera looked to be set up on the pillow of a bed, with Lara and her partner in front of the lense. Lara was on her hands and knees, moaning and tearing at the blankets while the man ploughed into her from behind. His right hand was pulling hard at her ponytail, his left slapping and kneading her ass. But despite the roughness...Lara was smiling, her moans intermingling with laughs and cries of encouragement and praise. And the man laying into her from behind, spreading her ass or cunt around his dick—Sam wasn’t sure which—was looking at Lara tenderly, even as he gripped her hair and smacked her rear.
A grin began to spread across Sam’s features. So, Lara had taken her advice after all. Good for her. She knew that man had one heck of a cock, and by how his balls were slapping loudly against Lara, the same capacity for hefty loads that he’d had when he and Sam had last fucked.
“Now,” she muttered to herself, checking the clock one last time before slipping a hand beneath the covers, sliding towards her slit, “Maybe there’ll be room for one more next time…”