They arrived at the quickie rooms. What they saw was a row of doors, some of which showed a couple of words translated into multiple languages saying ‘currently being cleaned’. John guessed that there was some slime in there doing the world a favour and scrubbing off whatever sexual juices stuck to the walls. Otherwise this whole thing would have been rather sticky, slippery and disgusting, actually.

Rave just opened a stall, and all three went inside. That turned out to be a bit of a cramp. The room basically only had a nicely elastic floor (yet another kind of cleaning slime, as Observe revealed) and something akin to a thin mattress. This clearly wasn’t a place to sleep, and a sign on the wall warned of the dangers of staying inside for a prolonged period. Basically, it said ‘Fuck then GTFO’.

John didn’t feel particularly threatened by whatever mechanism they would use to flush him out, but he also didn’t really want to disturb public order around here, and this stall wasn’t the greatest place to be either.

“Okay, blowjob or condom?” Rave asked gesturing at the dispenser underneath the sign where one could buy a condom for a hundred bucks. The price aside, what kind of choice was that?

“Jane, I literally have not once worn a condom, why would you do this me now?” John complained. He was so used to taking everyone just raw and didn’t exactly feel the need to experience rubber around his dong today.

“Cause I’m not going to dance with ya leaking out of me,” she told him. “I did that before, It ain’t that great. Blowjob then?”

“Blowjob then,” John sighed, solely being on the receiving end didn’t sit right with him, but he would just have to make up for that later. Rave kneeled down on the floor and unbuckled his pants.

“I am getting in on this action,” the dirty blonde grinned and kneeled next to Rave, and soon both of the girls were applying their lips to his length. At one point the two pairs, one glossy and pink and the other a brownish red, both full and soft, met around the head of his cock.

Their tongues intertwined and danced around the sensitive glans as John’s arousal reached its absolute peak. Rave was too sexy already, how the hell was he supposed to handle two of the kind? The answer was: not at all, they would handle him. At least that was what the greedy back and forth indicated.

Soon they changed from just making out with his dick in the way to taking turns sucking it. John shot the first load of the evening down Rave’s mouth not long thereafter. Gulping it down while ignoring Metra’s pissed glare, John’s girlfriend excused herself by saying, “My man, my tasty, tasty spunk… then again it looks like he can give you some more.”

Of course he could, as a matter of fact he desperately needed to. “How do you expect me to not be turned on when you two sexy cases of battle hungry, horny heavy-hitters are sitting on the floor in front of my naked dick with your overly sexy lips and eyes, huh?” he wanted to know.

“I would be surprised if ya weren’t in full-fuck-force mode right now, tiger, but the timing is still kinda bad,” Rave said, “I wanna check out the dance floor. Okay, we’re gonna do it like this: Mat, you ready to get your face fucked?”

“Sure, why the Enuma Elis not?” Metra said, and the lightbearer got up in response. Guiding her boyfriend’s hand into her tight pants, after opening them, and the other to the back of the berserker babe’s head. With the instinct of a dom, John immediately grabbed the barely bound mane of Metra by the ring of metal that was holding it in place. The ancient weapon licked her lips and then started sucking on her own.

“Okay, then, tiger, here is what we gonna do right now…” Rave began, only stopping for a second to bite her lower lip as she moaned from John curving up his fingers to enter her eager pussy. “Ya got ten minutes, then we gotta get out of here anyway. So’ya’better’use’dem and fuck her face good.”

“And why are you grinding against me and my hand in this scenario?” John wanted to know with a lecherous grin as he supplemented Metra’s already willing bobbing of her head with ruthless thrusts. He would eat out Metra later to return the favour twofold, but the ultimatum was made, so he wanted to get off as often as he possibly could. His shaft was already lubricated from the preceding blowjob, and Metra didn’t need to breathe, ideal parameters to use someone’s throat as ones personal cocksleeve.

“’Cause I can’t suck your dick without getting horny anymore; your smell and the taste of your jizz just make me drip like cray-cray. It’s etched into my body at this point,” Rave bemoaned, and while she added to that statement, John came for the second time. Having his balls this filled with seed all the time made it rather easy to cum quickly when he only aimed to release, not to please. “I am addicted to ya, John.”

“Let’s hope I am the kind of drug that heals,” John said and kissed her as he experienced multiple orgasms. Mentally he gave biology the middle finger for denying him this sort of mind-blowing ecstasy prior to getting his powers. Then that thought was washed away by each of his nerves cranking up the sensitivity.

Metra’s throat as it effortlessly glided up and down his whole length was agonizing. His throat formed a sound between pain and pleasure, the extremeness of his feelings making it seem like every jolt of pleasure, every inch of slimy throat that slid over his iron-hard prick was accompanied by a pleasant wave of electric shocks. Meanwhile Rave’s lips on his were as if he was consuming lust and love, causing them to breathe directly into his mind and unfold into a swarm of flickering colours and a simple wish. The wish to feel yet more of the one that was in love with him and who he loved above everything else in the world. His anchor, his light, a pink-haired hottie with a short fuse and an attitude writhing and grinding on his drenched palm as he fucked another woman’s throat.

“Ya don’t need to heal squat, tiger,” Rave held his face between both of her hands and smiled wide, revealing her perfectly white teeth. “We just need to keep together, ya and me, we are the perfect unit, right?”

“Right.” John pressed his lips right back on hers. This didn’t even need to be talked about anymore. The moment their tongues started wrestling again, he came for the sixth time. His finger’s went into overdrive, as he felt the end of their time in this stall approaching. Sharp and quick moans entered his mouth, used and wonderful tasting air out of Rave’s lungs that entered his, made his head dizzy from a lack of oxygen.

Slick, quick noises echoed through the tiny room as the wetness, overflowing from her tight snatch, allowed John to masturbate her as quick as his wrist was constructed for. “Oh, Gaia, John, John, oh my god, ah, ah. Aaaaah!” she panted as her lips flew off his.

Her eyes seemed to try and say something, but for once John was uncertain as to what it was. Having no time to ask, he groaned his last orgasm shout out, and Rave howled at the ceiling in her own orgasm, a scream that was only contained by the magic on the walls.

________________________________________________________________

“And that is why we can’t have nice things!” Rave complained after returning from the toilet. “I had such a nice outfit, and now I have to dance in this.” She gestured at the pink bodysuit that she always had with her in the form of her sneakers. Her former outfit had disappeared into John’s inventory.

“Not my fault,” he said, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, “you could have told me to stop before you squirted all over your pants. That aside, it’s clean now!” he couldn’t use Craft on things people were currently wearing, so Rave had to get out of those clothes before he had been able to dry-clean them. She had already locked herself in the bathroom before he could hand them back though.

“Yeah, sure, try to say ‘please don’t give me a mind-blowing orgasm with your fingers’ while on the edge of said orgasm, Brainiac,” his girlfriend flicked his forehead with enough power for him to be forced a step backwards and lose 12 health points. “And we lost enough time already, so this will do now!”

Metra, not giving a damn whatsoever, was checking out people who passed and only listened to the little lover’s feud. She didn’t look around in the ‘you look nice’ kind of way, but with the kind of predatory glance that aggressive men in shady pubs used to measure whether they wanted to drink with, beat up or fight and then drink with someone.

“Well, now I am going out in this skin-tight suit, but at least people won’t think I peed myself,” the techno-lover continued and showed off her body, stopping with her ass towards her boyfriend and smiling over her shoulder. “How do I look?”

Thank god, she was such a light-hearted soul and didn’t make a huge deal out of this. “What do you think?” John asked. “Terrible, as usual!” He slapped her butt and looked at the nice jiggle. A tug in his pants warned him that they had to return right to where they came from if he took this too far. So he allowed himself just one more comment, “Do you know why you have the best butt in existence?”

“Cause it’s attached to me and I am awesome?” Rave said and then slapped it herself with a playful smile.

“Largely true, but here is the physical reason: it’s a perfect mixture of firmness, jiggle and roundness. It sticks out in whatever you wear without being disproportionate, is so firm that it doesn’t jiggle around like fat when you move but also jiggly enough that there is a nice wave going through it when slapped,” John explained.

“Ya have put some thought into that,” she laughed and grabbed him by the hand as they finally went on their way to where Rave actually wanted to go.

“If there is a doctorate for butts, I should get it honorarily,” he said with utmost certainty, then glanced over to Metra in her stupid sexy outfit. “Although I still need to study up on the wonders of midriffs.”

“How come you aren’t soaking by the way?” Rave wanted to know. “Can’t tell me ya weren’t turned on by that bit of sex.”

“I was told there would only be blowjobs, so I disabled that body function, that’s that,” Metra quickly explained.

“Nifty,” the techno-lover said. “You got some nice advantages all over the place.”

“I guess,” the berserker babe said, “but it comes with the caveat of being up for whatever sicko gets his hands on me this decade… theoretically,” John did have to wonder why she added that word there. “Wanna trade, big girl?”

“Uhh, nah, thanks, I am good with being wet at inopportune times, thankfully I got someone who is good at plugging holes,” Rave winked at John, and he got lost in her blue and pink eyes for just long enough to not notice someone stepping in his way.

Their collision was marked by not him but the person who tried to stop him stumbling back a few feet. “Youuuuu,” an obviously drunk voice slurred, “you are tshat Gamer guy… fuck you, I bet money on Max winning!”

“I hope you will pick your future investments more wisely,” John said in a tone that was just dripping in sarcastic empathy.

“Furk you,” the man just repeated, “I want you to put your bitch ass into the ring with me, right over there!” he pointed at a door not far down the hall. Interested, John walked after him and looked inside.

It was a small fight club. Most of the room was dominated by the boxing ring in the middle, while everything around seemed to hold like fifty people total, sitting on small tables. There was an automated camera in each corner as well. If drunken brawls happened frequently, might as well locate them somewhere and stream the whole thing. At least that was what John guessed the logic here to be.

“Sorry, I am not really interested in…” he tried to wiggle his way out of this. He wasn’t afraid, the man was only level 55. Sure, without Purgatory charged John’s physical Stats weren’t that great either, but he still could beat up a drunk fool. No reason to add to the man’s headache in the morning.

“Listen here, you little punk!” the buzzcut wearing man shoved John from behind and into the room. At the sight of her boyfriend getting handled in that manner, Rave clenched a fist but waited as John low-key raised his hand into her direction. His patience hadn’t run out yet, although it was pretty close.

“Do you accept substitutes?” Metra asked as she entered the room as well. It was dead silent as the crowd, regulars who came exactly to witness shit like this going down, watched the situation, attention shifting from John to the berserker babe with a starved smile on her face and a red shimmer in her green eyes.

The drunkard seemed to suddenly realize that he bit off a bit more than he could chew, but encouraging cries from the audience and the thorough ability of alcohol to kill caution caused him to say, “Sure, whatever.”

John was not quite sure he liked where this was going, but he also knew that he kind of wanted to see Metra beat the guy up. Getting shoved evoked some bad memories of locker rooms and the laughter of bullying or simply watching jocks.

They got into the ring to the whistling of the crowd, which quickly turned even louder as Metra grabbed the edges of her super-cropped top and then, calm as a summer breeze, began to pull it up. The drunkard took that more as an invitation to attack than anything, which got him some boos from the onlookers.

“What the hell, Hank?” one of them shouted as the now named man threw a punch that found its end in Metra’s raised foot. Knuckles clashed with flat sneaker soles, and the berserker babe threw her top straight to the floor with an energized motion, leaving her breasts naked and the crowd cheering.

“Why are you stripping?!” Hank wanted to know.

“Better question, who do you think you are to stop me, the first Metracana, while stripping?!” Metra shouted back in happy rage, suddenly removing her foot and causing the man, who had continued to apply force, to stumble forwards. With a quick sweep of her legs, she caused him to fall to the floor and then put a leg on his back. “But to answer you,” the sound of a zipper getting pulled downwards could be heard, “it is because you are so pathetic that fighting you naked would be too easy. Fighting you while getting naked though…” she took her foot of his back and kicked him into the rubber bands at the opposite side of the ring. They stretched quite a bit but then threw Hank back into position. “…That sounds like FUN!”

Hank coughed a bit, but if there was one advantage to brawling while smashed, it was a vastly higher pain tolerance, so he just went back up to his feet and then engaged Metra again. This time the berserker babe didn’t even go out of her way to block, instead dodging with artistic ease and while she did a double somersault away from him lost her hot pants.

Landing on one of the corners of the boxing ring, she twirled the miniscule piece of cloth around her index finger. As she was adamant in wearing as little clothes as possible, the only thing still on her right now were her shoes. “Catch!” she shouted at John and tossed the crumpled piece in his direction before finally attacking Hank.

It wasn’t even a contest, it never had been. A simple flying knee to the forehead and the drunkard fell to the floor, knocked out. “Someone else?” Metra shouted at everyone in a hopeful voice. “Anyone else who wants to insult my current master?” Silence. “OH COME ON!” her anger broke through immediately, “GET YOUR ASSES UP. I will take you all at once if you want to and guide you asses to the afterlife!”

“Metra, come on, they had enough,” John shouted and tossed her pants right back at her. “You are overdoing it.”

The ancient weapon clicked her tongue and angrily spat, “Boring cowards,” and began dressing herself again.

When they left the room, John sighed heavily. “I mean, I am pretty happy you had your fun there and defended me as your second goal,” he told Metra, “but did you have to announce to the world what you are in front of cameras?”

“Ah, shut it, I don’t do information wars. That aside, the whole Roman army core knows already, it’s not exactly a secret,” she answered.

“Yeah, whatevs,” Rave added, “just let her punch people, although I find battle-stripping weird.”

“Hey, if I am not naked, the armour is going to rip my clothes apart!”

“You think I believe that you got naked for a practical reason against that guy? Pretty sure you said you only use that form when you feel threatened,” John asked.

“No, up there I did it because he was an idiot and I love getting naked,” Metra answered as she looked at her top with disdain before putting the white thing back on, “just saying: there is a practical reason that isn’t me loving to show off.”