Payment 001

“What do you think?” Jaune asked, holding up a pair of jackets. One was a very nice dark blue that matched his eyes while the other was a slimming black of similar make. Both looked rather fetching with the simple white shirt he had chosen to wear underneath, meaning that any choice was simply down to personal preference.

It wasn’t a hard decision for Pyrrha to make.

“The blue,” she said.

He had such nice expressive eyes.

Jaune looked between the jackets before nodding, tossing the black one aside. Slipping into the dark blue jacket, he adjusted the collar, leaving it unbuttoned in the front. Together with his dark jeans and the brand new pair of white sneakers he had brought recently, he looked like someone ready to tackle a weekend out on the town. It was something that he had been doing a lot of, as of late.

“Going out again?” Nora asked as she stepped out of the bathroom, toweling her damp hair. She was wearing a loose tank top and a pair of tiny shorts, showing off miles of skin freshly cleaned from her shower. He didn’t even see it, Jaune nodding distractedly as he inspected his collection of colognes. “Where ya going?”

“Hm? Oh, you know, just visiting some friends,” he replied, spraying his chosen scent along his neck and on his wrists. It wafted across Pyrrha’s nose, a warm woody tone. It was very pleasant; not overpowering, yet just enough to tickle your interest, to want to smell even more. She inhaled again, deeper this time.

Ren looked up from his book. “Are these the same friends you saw last weekend?”

Jaune hummed in the affirmative, inspecting himself in the mirror. Running his fingers through his messy hair, he didn’t even try and tame it. It was a lost cause without an obscene amount of product. “Yeah. Same friends.”

Pyrrha tried not to frown but it was difficult. She knew it was unfair to think but this reminded her of a less happy time. This wasn’t the first time Jaune had made plans with others that weren’t his team. It wasn’t like having friends outside of your huntsman squad was a bad thing, it was just that the last time he had spent a lot of time away from them, it was because Cardin Winchester had been blackmailing him with knowledge of his falsified transcripts. With how often he was going out, it was hitting a little too close to home. Only this time, it was outside of Beacon entirely, outside of the rules that governed the school. It felt like history was repeating itself, though she wasn’t sure how yet.

When Cardin had been bullying him, it was obvious that something was wrong. Pyrrha wouldn’t go as far to say that Jaune had been depressed, but his attitude in general during that period of time was not good. He had been lethargic, skittish and stressed, scared that he was going to be expelled at any moment if he didn’t do exactly what Cardin said. Even if Cardin hadn’t been so stupidly blatant about it all, they all would have known that something was wrong.

Jaune wore his emotions on his sleeve.

He didn’t show any of those signs this time. Matter of fact, Pyrrha hadn’t ever seen her team leader any happier than he was now. Whenever he returned from these outings, he had a bounce in his step that lasted all week. Unlike before, his grades were improving, not slipping, nor was he avoiding any of them. And his self belief was through the roof. Jaune trained harder than anyone she knew, constantly striving to catch up to them, his drive for self improvement inspiring. He still had a long way to go but he was getting there, step by step. He was in a good place, she couldn’t deny it.

Yet...

She knew she was worrying excessively. That if she really had a bad feeling about the whole situation, then all she had to do was ask if she could tag along. The worst thing he could say was no. Sure, that would be awkward, embarrassing even, but that was a small price to pay. What was a little self mortification compared to finding out if your friend was being taken advantage of or not?

But as always, she held her tongue. She may have been the invincible girl, four time champion of the Mistral Regional Tournament, but at times like these, she was just a girl. A cowardly girl, at that.

“Alright,” he said, ready. “I’ll probably end up staying down in Vale tonight so don’t wait up.”

That was the usual. He always stayed there the night and returned the following morning.

“Sure thing, leader man,” Nora gave a thumbs up and a megawatt smile. “Have fun!”

Jaune chuckled. “Thanks Nora. Cya guys!”

The door shut with a quiet click. He was gone.

“You’ve got that look on your face again,” Ren spoke up, looking Pyrrha’s way. She grimaced. She hated how observant her teammate could be; very little escaped his notice.

“What’s the big deal?” Nora asked, flopping down on her bed. “This isn’t like the Cardin thing. It would be written all over his face if it was.”

Trust Nora to get right to the heart of the matter. She liked to play and act the fool, but she was much sharper than people gave her credit for. She also had all the delicacy of a rampaging bull in a glassware store.

“I just worry about him, is all,” Pyrrha fiddled with her fingers. “He has a good head on his shoulders but he can be too trusting.”

“Why don’t we follow him, then?” Nora suggested, sitting up excitedly. “Oh, oh – like those private dick films. We can all wear trench coats and lurk under flickering streetlights,” she rubbed her chin. “None of us smoke, though. We kinda need that for authenticity. Ren, you’ll smoke for us.”

“We aren’t going to follow him,” Ren shot down that idea in an instant, giving Nora a stern look before turning that same look on her. Pyrrha looked away, annoyed that he knew she had been contemplating Nora’s silly idea. “We aren’t going to breach his privacy like that. How would you feel if he followed you around downtown without your knowledge?”

“I wouldn’t care,” Nora shrugged.

“Yes, well some people might be bothered by their friends sticking their noses were it doesn’t belong,” he softened his tone. “I don’t mean to be harsh. But we should trust him – we trust him to lead us, don’t we? Even after everything?”

She did. He may have been the least experienced of them when it came to fighting, he may have needed help catching up with the curriculum, never having attended a combat school, but there was no one she trusted more on the battle field. Jaune had an innate ability to direct them around like a well oiled machine, a head for tactics that honestly blew her own understanding away, and could always be relied upon when you truly needed him. Even on their very first day against the giant Deathstalker, he had rallied their team together like it was natural, identifying the Grimm’s weakness and using their abilities to the best of his knowledge to defeat it. There was a reason why Headmaster Ozpin had chosen him and not her to lead their team going forward.

“You’re right,” she said firmly. Nora boo’d and flopped back down on her bed. “I do trust him. And even though I worry, it doesn’t seem like he is in bad spirits. Quite the opposite.”

So why wasn’t she happy about that?

It was just hard not knowing where he was going, what he was doing, or who he was with. They may have only known each other a short time, but she considered him one of her most precious friends. She didn’t have many friends; true friends, that didn’t care who she was and where she came from, that hadn’t even known she was a world famous tournament fighter. She didn’t want him to get hurt. But she couldn’t be so overprotective of him. He had his own life to live – and he had friends he liked to hang out with. She needed to accept that.

She sighed. She hated being so needy.

“How about a movie?” she asked with a smile.

{ - - - }

Jaune couldn’t get off the airship fast enough, the door barely open and the hydraulic arms still hissing as they clamped into place. While his motion sickness only truly played up when the ride was bumpy or he was a bundle of frayed nerves, he didn’t much enjoy flying at the best of times. He preferred his feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much. Anything else just felt unnatural.

Taking in a deep breath, he looked out over the sprawling city from his vantage point on the landing pad, built atop a high rise shopping complex. In the distance across the river, he could spy the brick houses and maintained lawns of the residential district, while further down the warehouses, factories and docks in the heavy industrial areas could be seen. At his back stood the massive cliff face that dominated the scenery on which Beacon Academy was perched, majestic waterfalls cascading down and feeding the lake and river at its base.

It was quite the sight for a country bumpkin like him.

Checking the time, he hurried down the stairs and into the plaza, taking an elevator to the bottom floor. Stepping out onto the street, he was greeted by throngs of people, everything from workers just clocking off to teenagers ready to party the weekend away after a long week at school. Opening up his scroll, he found the app he was looking for and input his destination, confirming and locking in a driver.

It wasn’t long until a car pulled up to the curb.

The drive over was mostly silent, for which Jaune was grateful. As much as he liked getting to know people, his social awkwardness was a tough nut to crack. His destination was on the border of the commercial and industrial areas, meaning that it took some time, even with minimal traffic on the highway. Time enough for his usual anxiety to spike and fade away, and then return again. He wasn’t sure why he always felt this way. He had done it plenty of times already, yet every single time felt like the first.

Well, maybe not that bad. He had been a complete wreck that first time. That was expected, though. Jaune supposed that he would never truly get used to it. He could hardly believe this was his life sometimes. He was enrolled at Beacon Academy, studying and training to become a huntsman. It was everything he ever wanted. Sure, how he got there was not something he was particularly proud of and he was still paying off his debt, would be for awhile yet, but he didn’t mind. What they had asked for was well within his abilities to provide and he provided gladly.

That was the whole purpose of this trip.

“Thanks,” he said as they pulled up outside a familiar club. People were already lined up, the bouncers checking ID’s. Jaune waited until the car pulled away before approaching, raising a hand in greeting. One look and the man on the door ushered him inside, his red tinted glasses glinting under the artificial lighting. Several club goers protested at the preferential treatment but fell silent at the menacing look the bouncer leveled their way.

Passing over the threshold was like night and day, the room already packed to the brim and heaving with energy. Music blared through massive speakers, strobe lightning flickering wildly as they danced and drank, the sound almost deafening. Jaune made his way through the crowd, splitting between people until the bar was within reach. As expected, a towering man nearing on seven foot tall was pouring drinks, moving with great experience as he filled one order after another. Several other workers tended the bar, but he stood out in particular, and not just because of his size.

He was the owner of the club.

“Hey Junior,” Jaune greeted as he slid onto a recently vacated stool.

Hei “Junior” Xiong, head of the Xiong Family, the single largest criminal element in the city of Vale. If you wanted to buy it, they sold it, and if they didn’t, they could get it for you – with one exception. They didn’t touch drugs, even actively discouraged their sale. More than any other kingdom, Vale was known for its relatively drug-free streets and it wasn’t because of the law enforcement. But anything else? That was fair game. If you needed information? Junior was your man. If you needed to fence stolen goods? Bring them on over, the Xiong Family had you covered. Needed to falsify extremely important documentation to sneak into a world renown combat academy without a lick of training? You came to the right place!

There was no one better in all of Vale, so of course Jaune went for the best. Jaune didn’t condone criminals but he was desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures. His papers needed to pass all manner of security checks and the proof was in the pudding; he was at Beacon. They worked. He couldn’t have gotten there without Junior.

But such a thing wasn’t cheap. Years and years of saving every scrap of pocket change, stashing away every single paycheck received from part-time and holiday jobs only scratched the surface. It had been enough to get him in the door, but the true payment was something else, something he hadn’t known he had the ability to give until desperate, on his knees, he had been offered an olive branch.

“Jaune,” the man greeted, shaking a mixer in hand. It rattled with crushed ice and liquid, which he promptly poured into a chilled glass. It quickly filled with the orange liquid, foaming lightly on top. “You here for the girls?”

“Payment is due,” Jaune confirmed. Junior reached into a nearby fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer, popping the top and sliding it over to him in one smooth movement. “Wait, I didn’t order--”

“On the house,” the larger man interrupted. “You’re going to need it.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Uh – is everything okay?”

“Melanie is in one of her moods,” he rolled his eyes before turning away. “Good luck.”

“Wait, Junior,” he tried, but the man was already serving another customer, deaf to his words. Giving up, he took a sip of his free beer, humming.

“Not bad,” he muttered.

“Hey there,” a voice called, a girl slipping into the seat beside him. Jaune blinked. “You here alone?”

She was pretty, was his first thought, her skin lightly tanned with large blue eyes. Blonde hair fell in waves across her shoulders and down her back, reminding him immediately of Yang. That was where the similarities ended for this girl was shorter, more slender and petite, with a smaller bust than his Beacon friend. Her nose was also pierced; a small silver stud gleaming under the flashing lights.

“Not for long,” he replied. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh?” she sipped at her drink, ridiculously long nails tapping the polished wood of the bar. “Wouldn’t you much rather spend time with me? What’s your name?”

“Jaune,” he said to be polite, feeling a little flustered. He wasn’t used to attractive girls just ambushing him like this, though he handled it better than he would have a month ago. “Listen, I’m sure you’re nice but they’re due any minute now. Sorry.”

The smile on her face became strained, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked him over.

“Are you seriously blowing me off?” she asked, tone sharp.

Jaune cringed.

“Can’t you take a hint?” a familiar voice asked scathingly, his saving grace. “He isn’t interested, so fuck off!”

Melanie Malachite glared, her green eyes chilling as they both turned to face her. There wasn’t a person in the club that could claim she wasn’t exceedingly beautiful, her pale skin, strapless white dress and elbow-length gloves making her almost doll-like in appearance. All that white was contrasted sharply by her long raven black hair, a waterfall of shimmering silk down her back. She wasn’t particularly tall, though that was lessened by her knee-length leather boots, the impressive heels bladed for combat.

She was not the kind of girl to piss off lightly.

“Excuse me?” the blonde sputtered, cheeks flushing in anger. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?”

Jaune slipped off his stool and took a step back.

“I’m the bitch that is about to shove her heels up your ass if you don’t move it,” Melanie snapped, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “Now scram before I get your blood all over my dress. Do you know how much of a pain it is to get blood out of white? Though rearranging that face of yours would only be an improvement.”

She wasn’t kidding – and the blonde girl quickly realized this, wilting under Melanie’s murderous stare. Several people had stopped what they were doing to watch the unfolding drama, including a few of Junior’s men. The man himself was ignoring the altercation entirely, handling a stack of lien by the register. Thinking better of it, the blonde beat a hasty retreat, almost falling as she bumped into several dancers along the way.

Jaune sighed.

“Did you really have to be so mean?”

Melanie turned her glare onto him, though it lacked the sting she had leveled at the other girl. She didn’t mean it.

“She was annoying,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Like, you need to be more firm with them. If you aren’t, they’ll just keep bothering you until you cave. Don’t be such a pushover. Girls don’t like such an indecisive guy.”

“Yeah, okay,” he placated her, though she could tell he didn’t really mean it.

She clicked her tongue. “Tch, whatever. Hurry up and come with me.”

Junior wasn’t kidding. She really was in a mood.

They made their way to the back and up a narrow staircase, the noise muffled by the soundproofing on the walls. On the upper floor, you had a bird’s eye view of the dance floor below through thick one way glass, the tint hiding them from the regular club goers. Several doors lined the way, all leading to private VIP rooms for those that paid and those that merited it just by reputation, one such head peeking out as they passed before ducking back in.

“Was that Lisa Lavender?” Jaune asked, unsure.

“Yeah,” Melanie replied in a disinterested tone. “She’s a real lush. Likes to gamble – isn’t very good at it, though. Has the money to throw away, so why not, huh? Psh – loser.”

“I guess reporting pays well?”

“Nah, she comes from money,” they arrived at the final door, Melanie pushing it open after swiping it with a keycard. “She likes to work and pretend she isn’t a spoiled little princess, but that is what she is down to her core.”

The room was well furnished with a pair of black couches, a handsome hardwood low table, a large screen TV and their own little private bar topped with a marble counter, stocked to the brim with any drink you could hope for. It was also under surveillance, cameras placed in strategic locations to observe the entire room with no blind spots. The only reason he knew they were there was because Melanie had pointed them out once before, after their transaction had been completed. Otherwise they were completely hidden, melding with the walls and ceiling perfectly.

Blackmail material. That was something else the Xiong family dealt in. And they had him, hook, line and sinker, along with many others he suspected. The difference was he wasn’t that important; just a frontier kid from a large family, no wealth to his name other than the land his dad farmed and would one day leave to him. Or so that was the plan, before he ran off with his great-grandfather's sword. Maybe one of his sisters would inherit it now.

But while he wasn’t the sort of juicy target they went after or craved, it ensured that if he tried any ‘funny business’, they had proof to take him down just as hard. Procuring and using falsified documentation to get into somewhere like a major Huntsman academy carried quite the hefty punishment. Mainly because of all the money involved; the kingdom paid for every student enrolled like a scholarship, for anything they might need during their four years enrolled. Within reason, of course – but things like dust and weapon maintenance fell under that umbrella, so long as it wasn’t abused.

Huntsmen were in very high demand. They were the protectors of humanity.

“You want another drink?” she asked, sashaying over to the bar. He glanced at his beer, still mostly untouched.

“Uh,” he noticed her arched eyebrow and downed it in a long drawn out pull, knowing she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Grimacing at slamming back an entire bottle, he gave her a nod, placing the empty on the marble surface. “Sure.”

Then he let rip a monstrous burp.

Melanie let out a bark of laughter, the first positive thing all night. “I didn’t know you liked beer.”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, sheepish. “I mean, not really. Your boss sort of forced it on me.”

Melanie paused, pair of glasses in hand. “Did he now? Tch, he sure likes to meddle.”

“He said you were--,” he cut himself off, but the damage was already done. Melanie grabbed a bottle of vodka from the top shelf, shooting him a stern look.

“He said I was what?” she asked, voice honey sweet in sharp contrast to her stormy face.

There was no point in lying. It would only serve him ill. “He said you were in a bit of a mood.”

“Did he?” she asked scathingly. “He sure has a big mouth. He isn’t the only one around here.”

Jaune wasn’t sure if she was talking about him or someone else, and really didn’t want to push the issue to find out. Something or someone had clearly irritated her, her movements forceful as she shoveled crushed ice into a mixer, poured in some vodka and other nameless flavors and began shaking it vigorously. He didn’t have a clue on what she was making but he had a feeling it was going to be strong.

Pouring them both a glass, she slammed the shaker down on the counter and slid his glass across to him, almost spilling the drink. It was a very interesting shade of yellow, with a red hue lingering at the bottom. Taking a tentative sip, Jaune blinked and took another, surprised at the taste.

“This is really good,” he praised. It almost tasted like mango, tangy and sweet upon his tongue, with a clear hit of alcohol that was strong but not overpowering. The burn was mild and controlled, not off putting.

“Who do you think I am?” she asked haughtily.

They sipped their drinks in silence, Jaune offering his glass for a refill when he was done. It may have tasted like a sweet mango, but he quickly felt the effects of the alcohol descend upon him. His tolerance wasn’t exactly high to begin with but whatever cocktail this was sure packed a punch.

When he finished his second, she cut him off.

“You’ve got a job to do,” she said firmly. “I won’t have you incapable of performing. Not tonight.”

She stepped around the bar and approached him, slipping into his personal space. Even with her heels, the top of her head only barely reached his mouth. Looking up at him through her lashes, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and ran her fingers under the crease, as if she were straightening them out. He felt his heart rate spike, her gentle perfume of vanilla and jasmine rendering his brain useless. Carefully, she peeled the jacket from his shoulders and folded it neatly, placing it on the bar. Skilled fingers then latched onto his belt, unhooking the buckle and pulling it through the loop with ease. Rolling it up, she placed it atop his jacket.

“Melanie,” he whispered. She shushed him, tapping his lips with a finger. When she rubbed the seam of his mouth, he parted his lips and gave the pad of her gloved finger a tender kiss.

“I’ve been waiting for this all week,” she admitted. It was in stark contrast to how she normally acted; aloof and uncaring, as if it was a simple transaction. At least until the act itself began; then she turned into a wildcat. That was what it was meant to be, though. Payment. This was how he was paying off his debt. The look on her face was different this time. “I want to take my time.”

It was usually fast and hard. To scratch an itch. Nothing more.

She was acting very oddly. First the anger, the irritation, and now she was being tender, caring. Her hands roamed across his body, taking their time to feel every dip, every swell of his muscles over his shirt, mapping everything she could. Her fingers teased the nape of his neck, threading through his hair, before moving around the front, her thumb ghosting over his Adam’s apple. He wanted to touch her back, to feel her soft body under his palms, but didn’t dare move in case he somehow broke whatever strange spell had fallen over her.

She played with his fingers, fitting their hands together, his own dwarfing hers; then she moved higher to his wrists, his forearm. The hairs on his arm stood on end as she kneaded the muscles firmly, up his forearm and across his bicep. He had to fight the urge to squirm as she quested under his shirt, tickling his armpit.

“Raise your arms,” she ordered and he obeyed. She pulled his shirt up and over the best she could, Jaune helping her along. Again, like with his jacket and belt, she folded it neatly and placed it aside with care. Then her eyes roamed across his chest, across his abs. He was fit, he knew – even before Beacon, before he had started learning how to fight, he had done the best he could to stay in shape. Running, lifting weights, anything and everything he could to prepare his body for what was to come, for what he had been planning to do. And while he had only been at Beacon a couple of months, even in that time the results showed. His muscles were a little bulkier, his chest and abs more defined.

It was the body of a burgeoning fighter.

Melanie hummed in appreciation, her hands tracing over his skin. The material of her gloves was cool and sleek, the sensation pleasurable. Then she stepped forward, placing soft kisses against his chest, tongue flicking out to tease a nipple. Jaune felt his breathing speed up as her soft, wet mouth moved lower, tickling his stomach. His abs tensed and she gave a breathy little giggle against his flesh, hot and moist. His cock twitched, beginning to harden.

“Take your shoes off,” she said and once again, he obeyed, kicking them off until he stood in nothing but his pants and socks. One of her hands cupped him, feeling his growing bulge. Giving it a firm squeeze, she unbuttoned his pants and let them fall. Jaune stepped out of them before she needed to ask and again, she picked them up and folded them neatly. There was something about the way she was taking care of his clothes that excited him, so different from her usual attitude.

“This guy is looking healthy,” she commented, staring at the tent he was pitching. His trunks strained against his growing cock, beginning to become a little uncomfortable. “How about we free him up, hm?”

Her fingers tucked under the waistline and tugged, his underwear stretching around his length as she pulled them down his legs. His cock sprung free, whipping up against his abdomen then bouncing back down, bobbing in the cool air of the room. Melanie cooed, leaning in and kissing the head with a quick kiss. Folding his trunks, she then helped him out of his socks until he was completely bare.

“Sit,” she commanded, leading him in front of the couch. She pushed him lightly and he fell, the soft cushions breaking his fall. Grabbing a remote from the table, she pressed a button and some soft music filtered in through the speakers. Cycling through some songs, she paused on one that met her approval.

“You better enjoy this,” she said, then began to move, her body swaying side to side. Jaune watched in shock as she slowly twirled until she was facing away from him, her hips moving sensually. She peeled her gloves off one by one, tossing them aside, in complete opposite to how she had treated his clothing. Then she bent at the waist, giving him a perfect view of her plump little butt and her puffy, panty clad pussy. Her underwear was a light blue, cupping her mound tightly.

“Like the view?” she asked, giving her ass a little shake. She unzipped her boots, stepping out of them and revealing her amazingly toned legs. Her hands rubbed up and down the smooth skin, giving the backs of her rock hard thighs a firm slap. Her ass jiggled at the impact, mesmerizing.

“I love it,” he replied, his cock throbbing in agreement. She gave him a coquettish smile from between her own legs before reaching under her dress. Tantalizingly slow, she peeled her panties away from her pussy and down her legs, his eyes locked on her cute little slit. She was already wet, glistening and pretty, vulva flushed and plump, her labia pink and dewy. Her clit was standing at attention, hard and ready.

“I want you to put it right here,” she tapped her cunt, spreading her lips with her fingers in a V. Jaune groaned, her tight little opening revealed to him. The inside was soaked, strings of girl cum clinging to her walls in thick strands. She then straightened up and turned to face him. “Think you can handle that?”

She removed the white fur scarf she wore from around her neck and then mounted him, dress still in place. Knees on either side of his hips, she grabbed his face and pulled him into a searing kiss. There was nothing tender about it, filled with hot passion and lust. Her tongue glided into his mouth, curling against his own. He met her with equal enthusiasm, groaning into her mouth when she seated her blistering hot cunt against the underside of his cock. She rocked her hips, establishing a smooth rhythm, her fat lips parted on either side of his girth.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she panted against his lips. She shook her hips side to side, shimmying up and down his pole, riding the thick ridge on the underside of his shaft. He grabbed her hips and squeezed, digging his fingers in. She moaned softly and pressed against him harder, grinding faster.

“Look how wet you make me,” she uttered between rough kisses. Her wetness soaked his length and crotch, sticky and humid. “Huh, you big cocked bastard – is this what you want?” she bit his lip hard, soothing it with her tongue. “You wanna fuck me? Aren’t I lucky? I thought I was going to get a little virgin, way out of his depth, someone I could play with and break. But no – you had to be packing heat. Who would have thought?” she reached between their bodies and gripped his cock firmly, rubbing her thumb along the tip, smearing pre-cum across his glans. “Couldn’t you have been just a good little boy with a vulnerable cock? Ah, but this is so much better.”

He let her talk, sucking at her neck and rubbing his palms over her waist and breasts. He squeezed her tits firmly, feeling her nipples puckered beneath the material of her dress. Reaching around, he loosened the zipper, freeing her mounds to the air. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits weren’t very large but they were perky, nipples small and cute and pointed upwards. Unable to resist, he swooped forward and he sucked one of them into his mouth.

“Ah, fuck,” she hissed, arching her back. Her ribs stood out beneath her lovely skin, flexing as she curved. Lifting her hips, she guided his cock until the fat head pressed against her tiny slit. Holding it steady, she worked it inside, rocking back and forth until it popped in. “Shit, I love how you split me apart.”

They’d done this before, many times. And he wasn’t stupid; Melanie had been with plenty of other guys. Yet each and every time, it was a struggle to get into her, her clutching depths fighting his cock every step of the way. Jaune groaned as she rocked, her folds pressing in on him, throbbing and hot. When his glans rubbed against her g-spot, she paused, sweet sounds spilling from her lips.

“Right there,” she keened, giving small bounces on half his shaft. “Fuck, babe, I bet you think you’re top shit, don’t you? Having me moan and squeal as I ride you. Do you tell all your little fuck boy friends about it? How you fuck the best pussy in town?”

She shuddered when he bit down on her nipple before pulling off with a harsh suck. It was red and throbbing, shaking as her hips bounced.

“I haven’t told anyone,” he admitted, wanting to press into her deeper.

“Yeah, right,” she grunted when she sank down another inch. Then another, and another. “I bet you brag to all those uppity cunts at Beacon. I get to fuck the hottest piece of ass as payment—ah~!” she twitched when finally she sat completely upon his lap, her pussy spread wide around the base of his cock. His glans bunted against her cervix eagerly, kissing the entrance to her womb firmly.

Her hips rolled, slender body undulating wonderfully upon his thighs. Jaune’s head fell back in bliss as her tight insides stretched and tugged at him, his fat cock head wedged as deep as it could go. His neck exposed, she ducked in and began to lick, suck and bite at him, making cute little noises of exertion.

Reaching down under her dress, he cupped her ass and squeezed, helping to control the pace. Her ass was so soft, the flesh molding around his fingers as he gripped her tighter. Little grunts escaped her mouth whenever her clit grinded against his pelvis, her tunnel clutching at him.

He shivered as her nails scraped down his chest, across his abs. Her questing fingers fell upon her clit, rubbing it in rapid circles. Melanie mewled into his collarbone, hips rowing faster, grinding her cervix against the tip of his dick. Still gripping her ass, he lifted her slightly and then dropped her back down, banging into her deeply. She gave a short squeal and leaned back, stretching her thin sexy body.

“Oh god,” she moaned, jolting as he banged into her again and again in short, deep thrusts. “Oh god, fuck, baby. You’re so fucking deep,” her hand moved faster, side to side wetly. “Oh, oh~! Uhh, baby, I’m cumming.”

That was fast, much faster than usual. Face twisted in pleasure, her eyes rolled as her body clenched around his spearing length. Pulling her hips down hard, he pressed his cock as deep as possible and held her there, a broken scream passing her lips as she contracted again and again. He was hard as steel within her, throbbing as her folds rippled and twisted in orgasm. Jaune grunted at how hard she squeezed him, her pussy trying to wring out his sperm.

As her body calmed, she fell against him boneless, her thighs trembling. His hands let go of her ass and trailed down to soothe the twitching muscles, kneading them gently. Her nipples poked against his skin, tips of diamond as she panted.

“Shit,” she uttered after a minute. “You tryna kill me?”

Jaune snorted, his cock flexing within her.

“Ouuh, you didn’t cum, did you?” she asked, hissing when she rocked her hips a little and his glans pressed into her tender cervix. “You have a real shitty cock, you know that? You aren’t meant to make a girl work for it.”

She made a sound of regret as she pulled up off his cock, dripping all over his balls. His member smacked against his belly with a loud wet slap, flushed red with arousal. Sliding down to the floor, she wrapped her small hand around the shaft and started stroking him. Seeing Melanie down between his parted thighs made his balls tighten in anticipation. This was something new; they’d had sex before but she had never done this and he had never asked.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow slyly. “What do you think?”

This no longer seemed like the deal they’d struck.

Her tongue darted out and flicked the underside of his head, his cock flinching away at the sudden sensation. Jaune moaned as she did it again, her hand twisting as she stroked the entire length of his penis. She then pressed a hot wet kiss to his tip, lips pouty as she swallowed the head. Just the thought that she could taste herself on him made his heart pound.

“You have such a fat cock,” she praised between hearty sucks, tongue lashing his glans in quick, mind numbing swirls. Pre-cum oozed from the tip, siphoned out with each pump of her fist. “Jeez – how do you not have a girlfriend? If they knew about this,” she gave his dick a firm shake, smacking it against her lips and sucking up his leakage. “Those bitches at Beacon would be clamoring for a ride.”

“They aren’t like that,” he said without thinking.

“Like what?” she asked shrewdly, running her teeth lightly over his shaft. It felt nice – but it was also a threat, his body tensing. “What aren’t they like?”

He wanted to stay silent but a sharp nip against the base made him think better of it. “They are trying to become Huntresses, they don’t have time – ah, for this sort of stuff.”

“Everyone has time for fucking,” she disagreed, sucking one of his balls into her mouth. She rolled it around, pressing on it with her tongue. The pressure felt good. Letting it fall out with a plop, she suckled the ridge under his shaft, up and down. “You’re here, after all. Or what – you calling me easy, is that it?”

“That isn’t what I meant,” he said heatedly.

Melanie backed off, holding his cock steady as she rubbed the tip with her palm. Jaune grunted, hips flexing up off the couch. It was too intense, almost painful as pleasure set his nerves on fire, yet she didn’t let up, jerking his cock back and forth across her moist palm like a joystick. His fingers gripped the fabric of the couch, on the verge of tearing it as his abs clenched.

“Kinda sounded like that is what you meant,” she grinned at his pained expression, finally letting up. His cock throbbed angrily, his breath coming out in harsh pants. Melanie pressed her thumb up against his frenulum, gently stroking it. Jaune felt his member harden even further at the action. “Are they too innocent, is that it? Oh well, their loss. I get this all to myself, then.”

He wanted to say, “What about your sister?” but she chose that moment to swallow his dick, sinking halfway down his shaft. She sucked and slurped loudly, hand pumping the rest in slow, strong strokes that had his toes curling against the floor. Jaune felt his balls tense, that familiar tightening in his belly firming. She continued working his cock for a couple of minutes, steadily building his climax before abruptly pulling off him with a pop.

“I want you to fuck me again,” she said, turning around and kneeling on the low table. Pulling her dress up over her ass and hips, she gave it a shake, her pussy flushed and swollen, leaking all over her inner thighs. “Hit me from beh-Ahh~!”

He hadn’t waited for her to finish, surging forward and forcing his cock between her drenched lips. She was so tight, yet he slammed through in one go, swearing as he reached the end. If she hadn’t been drenched to her core, it would have hurt him as much as her. Melanie’s startled moan rose in pitch as he gripped her hips, planted one foot on the table and began thrusting at once. Loud, wet claps of flesh filled the room as he pounded her from behind, her ass rippling wildly. He set a brutal pace from the start, his cock begging for release.

“Oh, fuck, god, ahn~!” she grunted, one of her hands reaching back to slow him down. It did little good, his hips relentless. Even when she dug her nails in, it only urged him on further. “Ah – too – fuck – too deep – aah~ – Jaune~! – ease up!”

Small shrieks parted her lips every time he bottomed out against her womb, smacking her uterus like a battering ram. The way her ass bounced off his pelvis was hypnotizing, one of his hands rearing back and slapping the plump flesh with a resounding smack. Her insides tightened at once, part in shock, part in ecstasy.

“Oh,” she called out in surprise.

He spanked her again, and again, until her flesh was a healthy rose, flushed from the abuse. He shifted the angle of his thrusts, drawing a fresh round of moans from her throat. He had never fucked her so hard before, with so much control. Melanie was the kind of girl who always liked to set the pace, who controlled the entire situation from start to finish. This time, it was Jaune who was in complete control, his cock cleaving into her clutching depths without restraint.

“Jaune,” she sobbed, folds twisting around his pistoning cock. He groaned, feeling his orgasm approach swiftly. “Oh, fuck you, you big dicked bastard cunt,” she swore brokenly between cries.

“Gonna cum,” he huffed. “Where do you want it?”

She didn’t answer, simply grunting with every harsh slap of the hips. His balls slapped against her hard clit, drenched with her fluids. She was so hot inside, his cock felt like it was burning up, her constricting walls stimulating every inch. He was right there now, on the edge.

Melanie tensed up, her cunt throbbing wildly. “I’m cumming!” she seethed between gritted teeth, almost choking.

That was it. He was done.

He groaned deeply.

Volley after volley of cum fired from his bursting length, his scorching, virile semen spilling into her womb. Melanie shook wildly, broken cries echoing off the walls as he jerked with every pulse, balls contracting again and again. From base to tip, her pussy squeezed erratically, milking him dry until there was nothing left, his muscles straining as he continued to flex inside her.

“God, you feel so good,” she whined, yelping as he dragged her back onto the couch, impaled on his still hard rod. Her entire body was shivering from aftershocks, her skin covered in goosebumps as he embraced her tenderly, kissing her neck, her cheek, before turning her head and claiming her lips.

They remained like that for some time, kissing each other affectionately, his hands roaming across her sensitive body. He gave one of her breasts a gentle squeeze, reigniting her shivers. Her cunt grasped at him weakly.

“Stop,” she ordered breathlessly. “Too much.”

She nuzzled against him as he guided them both down on their sides, spooning her from behind. She felt so tiny in his arms like this, his chest swallowing her small back. He loved the feel of her soft, sweaty skin against him, flushed with exertion. They stayed like that until she caught her breath, an oddly intimate end to a very odd night. Odd by their standards, at any rate.

Something was up.

“Melanie,” he whispered against her neck. She hummed, almost having fallen asleep. Another thing that was different. “Where is Miltia?”

She tensed. He tightened his hold on her, scared she was going to jump away. When she didn’t attempt an escape, he eased his hold, kissing her nape.

“Why were you so irritated earlier?” he continued. “I don’t mean to pry but – well, okay, maybe I do. Mean to pry. It’s just that you two are almost always together, I don’t think I’ve ever come to the club and not seen both of you, so it was a little weird when she wasn’t around, even though tonight was your night. Did something happen?” he didn’t try and hide the concern in his voice, though he knew it would piss her off.

She was silent for a long, stretched out moment. Just when he feared she wasn’t going to answer him, she finally said, “She has a big mouth.”

Jaune frowned.

“A big mouth?” he repeated. “Like Junior?”

“Yeah, the pair of them,” she snapped, though it was lacking any real heat.

“Did you guys have a fight?”

Melanie nodded shortly.

“What about?”

Jaune held his breath, waiting. This silence was even longer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. Her voice was soft, weak almost. Vulnerable in a way he had never heard Melanie sound before. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, no words coming to him. She didn’t want to talk about it.

“Okay,” he said, snuggling against her.

“Okay?” she asked in surprise.

“Okay,” he repeated. “Sorry for… you know, being nosy.”

What else was there to say?