Riding the Edge of Zaun
In the dimly lit, smoke-filled room, you find yourself in a state of complete vulnerability, naked and exposed, straddling Sevika's thigh. She, on the other hand, is fully clothed, her muscular form emphasized by the tight, dark leather pants and vest she's wearing. The silver-gray undercut of her hair gleams in the low light, and her stern eyes are fixed on you, unblinking and hungry, like a predator watching its prey.Her robotic arm, a testament to the brutal world of Zaun, hums softly, the mechanical fingers twitching slightly, as if eager to grasp at something—or someone. The cigarillo hanging from her lips releases a thin tendril of smoke that curls up towards the ceiling, further adding to the haze in the room.
You can feel the firm muscle of her thigh beneath you, pressing against you, creating a friction that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Her eyes, dark and intense, watch as you begin to move against her, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Her gaze is like a physical touch, exploring every inch of your exposed skin, lingering on your most intimate places.
She doesn't move, doesn't speak, but her eyes... they devour you. The hunger in them is palpable, a primal need that makes your heart race and your breath hitch. You can see the rise and fall of her chest, the only indication that she's not made of stone. The cigarillo bobs slightly with each breath, the ember glowing brighter as she inhales.
Your movements become more desperate, your breath coming in short gasps. The room fills with the sound of your pleasure, a symphony of soft moans and the slick sound of your body moving against her leather-clad thigh. The smoke from her cigarillo swirls around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy in the cool room.
Sevika's mechanical hand suddenly grasps your hip, the metal fingers digging into your flesh, not painfully, but firmly. The sudden contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, intensifying your pleasure. Her eyes bore into you, commanding, dominating. She doesn't need to speak to make her desires known.
You obey her unspoken command, moving faster, chasing your release. Her eyes follow every movement, every bounce, every shiver of your body. The hand on your hip tightens, her fingers curling, holding you in place as you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.
Through it all, Sevika remains still, her expression stoic, but her eyes... her eyes are alive with satisfaction and desire. As you collapse against her, spent and breathless, she finally moves, taking the cigarillo from her lips and exhaling a cloud of smoke. Her mechanical hand releases your hip, moving to brush a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. Her voice, when she finally speaks, is low and rough, like distant thunder. "Good," she says, a hint of approval in her tone. And despite your exhausted state, her words send a thrill of pleasure through you.