Arena 5

by Logan Jacobs

  “Marc? You are up,” Artie urged.

  “As good as I am at GTA Five, I’m going with Stunt Driving,” I said confidently. “Me and Baby Driver. I’ll be a regular Cole Trickle.”

  “Okay, now even I’m lost,” PoLarr said.

  “Me too,” I admitted. “Half the time I don’t know what is coming out of my mouth.”

  “I like it when it’s your tongue,” Aurora said devilishly.

  “Female person, you can speak that again,” Artemis nodded as did Nova and PoLarr.

  “You are all tremendously horny,” Grizz deadpanned. “Is there something in the water?”

  Everyone burst into laughter which felt tremendously good. I found myself relishing the light moments more and more. So much of our existence was either fighting or getting ready to fight that the little bits of laughter and joy we got were even more joyous.

  “I’m going to download everyone’s new skills into your nanochip,” Artemis announced. A few keystrokes later, and I felt the familiar buzz at the base of my skull where the microscopic nano-bot was attached to my cerebral cortex. A static shock ripped through my brain, and I could feel my nerves crackle with the new ability.

  I watched as my alliance mates’ eyes all fluttered for a brief moment.

  “Okay, ya’ll,” Aurora said once she shook the after effects of the download out, “I’m off to go get a little early dinner.”

  “Do I want to ask?” I asked.

  “Sugar, I usually just walk around the shitty parts of the city and wait until some thug tries to accost me,” she threw over her shoulder as she sauntered out. I had to try very hard not to be entranced by the motion of her hips and ass as she walked away. “It’s like a buffet. See you later tonight.”

  “Damn,” Tempest whistled. “That girl has an ass.”

  “Word,” both PoLarr and I said in unison.

  “I think I want to try to see how this works,” PoLarr said and grabbed her Val’Keerye jetpack as she walked toward the door. “Gonna test it out, see if it can calibrate with all the light pollution from Valiance City. Smell ya later.”

  “Do you all smell badly?” Grizz asked with his classic one eyebrow raise. “Has hygiene gone into a decline since I inhabited the world of the real?”

  “No, Grizz,” I chuckled. “We all smell fine.”

  “Oh, good,” he said. “I’m going to go check with Darry and get your weapons modified to meet the specifications of this match.”

  “I’ll join you, Grizz,” Artemis said and got up from behind the Command Center. “There are a few tweaks I want to talk to him about personally.”

  “Wonderful,” Grizz glowed. “I shall meet you at Darry’s shop.”

  “See you later, Marc,” she said and kissed me quickly on the lips.

  “Bye, babe,” I said and watched the cute way she walked out.

  “That girl has a nice ass too,” Tempest said.

  “We all have spectacular asses,” Nova proclaimed. “They are legendary. Speaking of legendary, I’m going to see Palomar for some Paladinian fried ice cream. No, I do not want company. Palomar and I have some catching up to do. See you guys later.”

  Nova followed the path that Aurora, PoLarr, and Artemis had taken out the door.

  “She ain’t wrong,” Tempest nodded. “It is legendary. Let’s go check out the truck. What do you say, Havak?”

  “I’m game,” I shrugged.

  Tempest and I walked over to the massive open area of our gym where we saw the automotive behemoth after the 3d fabricated finished constructing it. I popped the hood latch, and we climbed up onto the front fender to look at the twin engines.

  “Sweet mother,” Tempest whistled. “Two overclocked twelve cylindar engines with variable cubic inch volume controls and superchargers. This beast will move and once it is moving will be damn near impossible to stop. I like this skill upgrade already.”

  “She’s got it where it counts kid,” I said as I winked at her.

  She looked up from the engine and met my eyes. A hungry look came across her face, like she wanted to devour me right then and there.

  “Not yet she doesn’t,” Tempest said and planted a monster kiss on me. She pulled my face to hers, and her tongue darted into my mouth and then licked my upper lip. “I don’t play around, Havak. Let’s fuck on top of this truck right now.”

  In response, I pulled her to me and held her up off the bumper so that I could shut the hood. Once it clicked closed, I set her ass down and leaned over her while my right hand grabbed a handful of orange hair and pulled her head back so that I could kiss her neck. Her legs wrapped around my torso, and she pulled me close.

  “I’m going to fuck your brains out, Havak,” she growled into my ear.

  “Not if I fuck yours out first,” I growled.

  I reached up and grabbed hold of her tank top and with one swift motion ripped it in two. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, and her marvelously full, teardrop shaped breasts bounced as they came free from the thin fabric. My hand cupped one roughly, and I lowered my head to suck on her hard nipple. She gasped in pleasure and growled deep in her throat. My other hand undid the button of her pants and then slid under her satin panties, past a tuft of soft pubic hair, and found the moist cleft between her legs.

  “Yes, use your fingers,” she moaned.

  Not one to disappoint, I let my fingers play over the firm nub of her clitoris, and then slid two of them into her warm, soft, sex. She arched her back to meet my hand, and I began a slow grind with my palm while I stoked the roof of her pussy where her g-spot was. A moment later her whole body convulsed as she yelled out in pleasure, and I felt her orgasm all over my fingers.

  With a deft judo like move she quickly turned the tables, and I found myself pushed back onto the hood so that my back was against the windshield. Her hands made quick work of the front of my jumpsuit, and before I knew it her mouth was around my rock hard manhood, and her lips circled the base. I grabbed a handful of her hair to guide her up and down motion which became quicker and deeper until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  I reached under her arms and pulled her up so that her hands were on the top of the cab of the truck, with her back to me. I yanked her pants down around her ankles and off her feet. I didn’t bother with her panties, I just ripped them aside as I thrust into her. Tempest arched her back and cried out in bliss.

  “Fuck me hard, Marc!” She moaned. “Fill me.”

  I felt her ass push back as I thrust into her tight, wet, pussy. Her flesh was hot and slippery, and my hand reached around to knead her breasts and pinch her hard nipples as we rocked back and forth.

  “Pull my hair,” she cried. With one hand I bunched the hair at the back of her head and pulled it toward me so that her back was arched almost impossibly. “Yes, fuck. Yes. Harder.”

  My other hand held her hip tightly, and I used it to guide our movements which grew more and more frantic.

  “Cum inside me,” she panted, “I want you to fill me. I want it so bad. Fuck, you are so hot.”

  Our pace increased in ferocity, and I felt her orgasm build with my own until neither one of us could hold off any longer, and we climaxed with loud cries of passion.

  I collapsed onto her back as we both caught our breath. Her hand reached over and caressed the back of my head and she kissed my face.

  “You sure do have one hot rod there, Havak,” she whispered.

  “Vroom vroom, baby.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Wakey wakey eggs and sizzling seared pork belly,” Artemis sang as she walked into my room and woke me out of a particularly deep and dreamless sleep.

  “Who ha wha?” I mumbled and tried to pull the covers over my head.

  Artemis was having none of it, unfortunately. She hopped down on the bed next to me and whipped the covers from my body.

  “Gah!” I cried out. It was cold, and I only had on a pair of boxer briefs. I liked it very cold when I slept, which was great for actual sleeping
but not great for waking up. “Five more minutes, Artie.”

  “Nope,” she replied. “You have places to see and people to go. Besides, I brought you coffee and a sandwich.”

  “Well in that case,” I mumbled and stretched before I sat up in the bed next to her. She had on a modified jumpsuit. Instead of pants this one ended in a relatively short skirt that rode up her to her mid-thigh and the top was unzipped down the front to give me a glorious view of her majestic breasts which were barely contained by a lacey black bra.

  I kissed her on the cheek. She smelled morning fresh, like soap and cuteness. She pressed the steaming cup of coffee into my hand, and I took a long sip. It was strong and so hot it nearly burned my tongue, which was just the way I liked it.

  I glanced over at the clock on my night stand and saw that it was barely seven A.M. “Why are you up so early? Why am I now up so early?”

  “I’m afraid you are not going to like the answer very much, Marc,” Artie replied and cringed. “Last minute interview with Trillium Vou.”

  “Nooooooo!” I cried out in mock fear and tried to pull the covers over my head. “But I don’t wanna. Why do I have’ta?”

  “Oh, this is a very sexy look, Marc Havak,” Artie chastised while clicking her tongue a few times. “Whining makes you very masculine. And you have to because it’s a direct request from Tyche, who I had the pleasure of speaking to at the butt crevasse of first light peep.”

  “Hush you,” I said and hugged her, careful not to spill my coffee. “Fine. I’ll go, but I won’t like it. And I think you were trying to say ass crack of dawn.”

  “What does a donkey’s butt have to do with sunrise?” Artie queried. “I swear to all that is devout English makes no sense! None, I tell you! I have the equivalent of a four hundred and twenty human I.Q. and can speak over four hundred dialects perfectly, and it still drives me macadamias.”

  “God, I love you so much,” I said and nuzzled into her neck. She giggled and wiggled away from me.

  “Eat your sandwich, Woodhouse worked very hard on it,” Artie said as she pushed my face out of her neck. She paused for a brief second and kissed me hard. Her lips tasted like cherries. “And you need to brush your teeth.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled before I sucked in a mouthful of breakfast sandwich. Woodhouse had switched up his normal concoction of fried eggs, and cheddar cheese this morning by piling perfectly cooked maple flavored bacon on top. All of it was smushed between a buttered English muffin. Thirty seconds later and it was all in my belly. “Pick me out something that says ‘I hate your guts but I’m being polite’ to wear on the show while I shower quick?”

  “Already working on it,” Artie said and opened my closet door.

  “You are the very best,” I threw over my shoulder as I walked into my bathroom. I caught a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror after relieving my bladder and had to take a second. I was usually so concerned with getting out of the apartment first thing in the morning that I really didn’t pay attention to personal grooming. Plus, I was typically covered in sweat twenty minutes after arriving in the gym anyway so there wasn’t much point. So, the reflection that greeted me in the mirror this morning surprised me a bit. I kind of resembled Chris Evans as Captain America. Driving a truck for eight to ten hours a day had developed a rather doughy “Dad Bod” but since becoming the champion for Earth and working out nearly every day punctuated with having to fight for my life apparently did wonders for the physique. I didn’t have the super low body fat shape of a fashion model, though. It looked like I’d put on about twenty-five pounds of muscle, the kind that didn’t come from pumping iron in a Gold’s all day. I flexed for a few seconds.

  “Looking good, Havak,” I whispered to myself while I admired my guns who I just at that moment named “Des” and “Troy”.

  “Stop looking at yourself and shower,” Artie said from my bedroom.

  “You are absolutely zero fun this morning,” I shot back and hit the “On” button for the Spiff-O-Matic 2000, which is what I’d dubbed the upright tanning bed looking shower unit in my bathroom. Ninety seconds later I was squeaky clean, shaved, and my hair was perfectly coiffed. I wrapped a towel around my delicate bits and walked back out into the bedroom.

  “Tick-tock,” Artemis said as she stood near the door and glanced down at her wrist-chrono, then back at me. “Wait, hold on. Let me just look at you for a second. Scorching darn, you look good.”

  “I know,” I boasted cockily as I let the towel drop and wiggled my naked behind at her before I slid into a fresh pair of black boxer briefs.

  “Don’t you tease me, Marc Havak,” Artie said. Her cheeks flushed red. “We do not have time this morning for me to stone your planet.”

  “That is a damn shame,” I joked and looked at what she’d laid out for me to wear. If the whole attaché in an interstellar Thunderdome thing didn’t work out, she’d have one hell of a career as a personal stylist. She’d picked out a pair of skinny fit blue jeans that I hoped made my butt look cute and manly at the same time, a vintage looking Guns N Roses Appetite For Destruction album cover t-shirt, and a European fit dark gray blazer. A dark brown belt that matched my well-worn Fitzroy Doc Marten boots finished off the outfit. “How do I look?”

  “Like I wish I could fornicate the gray matter from your skull,” she answered as she devoured me with her eyes. “But, we are going to be late as it is. Come on.”

  “You know this is more than likely a huge freaking set up, right?” I asked her as I finished my coffee and set the cup on the counter on the way out. “Vou has made a habit out of sucker punching me on live intergalactic television. And I’m like, four and oh, advantage T. Vou.”

  “I did not think of it like that,” Artie sighed. “What are you going to do? We cannot disobey a direct request form Tyche.”

  “I’m gonna Phil Jackson the shit out of her,” I replied as we took the elevator down.

  “Who is that, and why does it sound dirty?”

  “Famous basketball coach known for not letting anything get under his collar,” I answered. “He was always the picture of serenity even when completely stressed out.”

  “Hmm, you should definitely Phil Jackson it then,” she nodded as the doors opened, and we walked through the lobby of my apartment building.

  A short hover-taxi ride later and Artie and I walked into the production offices for Trillium Vou. I’d been in the building on several occasions but it still took me a minute to acclimate to the decor and style of the aliens that bustled about the place. It was like stepping into a Nagel painting from the Eighties. Which I only knew about because my best friend, Tommy Tilley’s dad had a moving box full of Playboys from the Eighties and early Nineties in his garage that we found when we were thirteen. The works of Patrick Nagel had been a staple of the nudie mag in those days. Trillium Vou was a member of an alien race that looked just like one of his paintings, and she had staffed her production company with employees who looked just the same. Everyone in the building had light gray skin, blue-black hair, alluring lips, and wore outrageously garish Eighties fashions.

  Artie and I made our way into the studio without any assistance. Not that any was offered. Trillium and I had become enemies when I wouldn't play her little game of “gotcha” journalism during a few interviews. Plus, the President had pissed her off tremendously.

  We walked into the large, well lit room, and both Artie and I stopped dead in our tracks.

  “That is unexpected,” I muttered. Artie just nodded in mute agreement.

  Tyche, his hologram neat and perfect as always, stood next to Trillium Vou as they chatted quietly. Like old, familiar friends. They both looked up when we walked in the door and then continued to talk for a few seconds before they shared a little laugh and Tyche strode over to us.

  “Good morning, Champion Havak, Artemis,” Tyche said in his smooth, clipped British accent. Being a hologram, he didn’t extend his hand, which was fine because I wouldn’t have shook it anyway.<
br />
  “Tyche,” Artemis said surprised, “I did not know you were going to be in attendance this morning.”

  “Of course child,” Tyche continued. “I believe I did mention that to you when we spoke earlier. Since you’ve been human it does seem as if your ability to concentrate has faltered.”

  “I…” Artie stammered. “I could have sworn… Of course, Tyche, you are right. It must have slipped my mind.”

  “I know,” Tyche said smugly. “Champion Havak, I trust you made it into the studio today with no trouble? I had heard that last time there was a bit of a snafu with some unruly fans?”

  “Ah you know, nothing we couldn’t handle, right Artemis?” I said confidently and put my arm around her. “Did you find where your security leak was for the President’s Gala a few weeks ago? I can’t imagine how embarrassing that must have been after you promised him that he would be safe here.”

  “Hmmm,” Tyche practically growled in his holographic throat. That jibe had caught him off guard, and he shot me a look of unadulterated hatred. It only lasted for the briefest of seconds, but it was furious in its intensity. He recovered quickly, and his mask of pleasant politeness replaced the anger smoothly. “There is no accounting for miscreants from primitive worlds. As you know, Champion Havak.”

  “No, not really,” I said through a plastic smile. He was good. Very good. With two sentences he’s managed to insult me subtly, my homeworld, and the POTUS while not answering my question at all.

  “Champion Havak,” Trillium Vou said in a sing-song voice as she walked over, “so nice to see you again.”

  “I’m sure it is,” I replied and stared at her. I tried to make my face as emotionless as possible. Any reaction at all would play into her hands, and I was not going to do that today. I had mentally prepared the entire cab ride over. I was going to be a goddamn Zen master during the interview today.

  “Hey Havak,” a voice that was like broken glass on pavement said from behind and above me said. “Nice to see you.”