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Intoxicating	By : Nicker Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 22406 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mass Effect & all the characters are property of Bioware. I am not making money with writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Intoxicating
- 1
Inspired by these pictures:

http://gfycat.com/WeeklyHilariousGalapagoshawk

http://rule34.xxx/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=1567194

The Normandy SR-2 made it back through the Omega relay more or less in one piece, and docked at the Omega Station at a secluded, out-of-sight place. The crew and ship alike were licking their wounds and Shepard ordered a shore leave for all able-bodied crew. Everybody needed to let off some steam.
Except Miranda Lawson, of course. Even after doing the impossible and coming back from a suicide mission and seeing the galactic core, which was probably the only time anybody ever saw it, her disgust for the station was still stronger than the need to have some crazy fun. She was more than happy to stay behind and take over the commanding duties as XO while Shepard and his crew was out, getting plastered on whatever mind-altering substance they could get their hands on.
She knew she should socialize with the crew, especially now, but hygiene was more important to her than bonding. Shepard tried to convince her to join them, but in the end he conceded that somebody had to stay on board, especially with the damages the ship sustained. The ship was vulnerable and there was a risk that certain elements might take advantage.
They did share a quiet hour between the relay and Omega, mostly peeling each other out of their torn and ragged outfits and checking out their bruises under the shower, chuckling nervously as the tender touches sometimes caused an involuntary, painful hiss. They were too sore and tired to do anything more than lay together for a few minutes, before they were called away to deal with the damages.
“I’ll make it up to you,” they said to each other at the same time before Shepard headed out, making them laugh nervously again.
In the end he took all the crewmembers who could walk or were not traumatized, leaving behind the injured and a skeleton crew of volunteers who either survived their ordeals mostly in one piece, or decided to stay and take care of the ship.
That didn’t mean Miranda couldn’t let off steam by herself. All she needed was some classical music and one of her prized bottle of wines that she saved just for such an occasion. She even allowed herself the highly unprofessional gesture of bringing the bottle to the CIC, putting the soothing tunes of Brahms on the speakers as she sat down in one of the empty chairs. The crew didn’t seem to mind, and mostly smiled and nodded at her whenever they passed by, or shot curious glances and raised eyebrows at the sight of the Ice Queen apparently thawing.
There was not much to do apart from finishing basic repairs so they could safely lock the ship down for the night. That meant keeping an eye on the monitors, setting up alerts and not much else. Miranda couldn’t even be bothered with catching up on other tasks and reports. She felt mentally exhausted and she needed to distract herself from the implications of blowing up the Collector Base and quitting Cerberus. The low buzz building up in her head helped with that.
At one point she made it down to the mess hall and raided the cabinets for a second bottle. It was not as fine as the first, but at that point, she was more lenient. In retrospect it would have been better to consume the first bottle in the privacy of her quarters, or preferably in Shepard’s, but certainly in his company, but right now, her first priority was getting her mind off of her worries.
Eventually she did retire to her cabin, leaving instructions with EDI about alerting her if anything happened. It was highly irregular, but after a couple of hours and near the end of the second bottle, she decided she could live with it.
***
When Shepard came back a bit later, but earlier than the rest of the crew, the Normandy was all quiet. He went directly to Miranda’s quarters, guessing that she would still be awake. She seemed tense when he left, but he knew she needed some time to think. He could respect that. It’s not like the woman would freak out–
When the door opened and the roaring sounds of a symphonic orchestra blasted out, he was not sure any more. Miranda was standing at the observation window, through which a part of Omega and the stars beyond it were visible, and she was conducting a waltz.
“Miranda?”

The woman almost jumped, snapping her head towards the sound with a bewildered gaze. She lowered her arms and tapped her omnitool. The music volume turned down as Miranda gathered herself.

“Oh. You’re back,” she observed, trying to clear her mind and focus on Shepard.
He grinned, looking Miranda over, noticing her slight sway.

“I see you had fun without me, Miranda. Maybe I should go–”

“NO!” Miranda yelled, maybe a bit louder than she intended, lifting her arm to signal him to stay. “I mean, stay. Please.”

Shepard nodded with a smirk and stepped inside, letting the door close behind him.
“Is it that late already?” Miranda mused, absently straightening her tussled hair while trying to look like there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Depends. I came back early.”

“Oh.” Shepard could tell that the woman was pondering if she should be sympathetic, regretful or happy. “What happened?”

“Nothing, really. Once we started dancing at the Afterlife, people seemed to just wander off and do their own thing,” he said thoughtfully.
Miranda let out an involuntary snicker, quickly clasping her mouth shut with her hand and tried to stifle her giggle.

“Oh. I see.”

Shepard raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“What?”
“Nothing,” Miranda shook her head, pressing her lips thin, trying to keep a straight face. She quickly glanced around for any distraction. She clutched the almost empty wine bottle and poured the rest of the wine into a glass, walking up to him, a bit wobbly.

Shepard tilted his head and watched her with eyes narrowed, taking the offered glass.

“Are you drunk, Miss Lawson?” he asked coyly, sipping into the wine.
Miranda frowned, making an overly stern face.

“Don’t be absurd,” she waved almost comically. She paused and sighed in surrender. “Mildly intoxicated. At best.”

“While on duty. That must be against the regulations,” Shepard smirked.

Miranda bit her lip and tried to look remorseful, her eyes glinting.

“Maybe,” she purred, taking the empty glass from him, putting it down on the coffee table along with the bottle. “Let me make you forget about it,” she added with a husky voice.
She took his hand, guided him to the chair near the observation window and pushed him down.
Shepard grinned, dropping down on the seat.

“I’m listening, Lawson.”
Miranda smiled, licking her lip. She slowly turned around and straddled his knees with one smooth move, that Shepard could barely follow.
Looking over her shoulder she started to grind her hips over his lap, making both of them aware of his bulge. “Maybe this will help,” she said suggestively. “I noticed your… attention the last time.”
Shepard chuckled. “Ah, the engine room,” he mused, remembering their heated romp just before they jumped through the relay. His hands were constantly drawn to Miranda’s well-proportioned buttocks, just like now, as he felt his pants getting tighter. He found himself grabbing her hips and sinking his fingers into her sides.
“Indeed,” Miranda purred, and Shepard wondered if it was an answer to his remarks or a reaction to his hands.
He watched mesmerized as her firm, round shape rubbed in circles around his straining bulge, gritting his teeth with a hungry groan. Miranda’s slender hand reached back, and she looked down over her shoulder again while she opened his pants.
Shepard remembered wanting to say something, but he lost his train of thought as he watched the slender fingers slip inside his pants and wrap around his hardening shaft, releasing it from its tight prison. “Whoa,” he managed to blurt out, making Miranda raise her eyebrow in amusement.
“Anything wrong, commander?”

“Nuh-huh. I like your… direct approach,” he mumbled, staring at those fingers gripping his hardness, their warmth heating up his skin as she started to gently tug and pull, giving a gentle massage.
His grip tightened on her waist, his erection trapped between the wrinkles of his pants and shirt, and that tight-fitting pants that stretched around Miranda’s ass.

“Uh, I am at a slight disadvantage here,” he mumbled as her fingers still stroke him smoothly.
Miranda hummed and nodded thoughtfully, lifting her hips off of his lap. Shepard immediately regretted that the warmth and the pressure went away and he couldn’t feel the weight on his legs any more. Pressing her palm along his throbbing length, pinning it to his belly, Miranda looked at him over her shoulder again, raising an expectant eyebrow.
Shepard caught her gaze and with a widening grin, his hands slipped around her waist and fumbled to find the buckles of her pants eagerly. He started to tug them over that impossibly round ass, all the more prominent as she arched her back and still hovered over his lap.

“Do you think that now we’re even?” she said with a playful tone, pressing back, and as soon as the pants slipped down to her thighs, he understood that they were not.
An almost desperate moan escaped Shepard’s lips as he saw the delicate, lacy panties that just accented her curves more, making his cock twitch in anticipation. Miranda sank back onto his lap, firm, smooth skin pressing against the base of his hardness, the warmth doing nothing to ease the tension in his loins.
Her “advantage” became all the more obvious as she started to rock her hips back and forth along his length, trapping him between her cheeks. She helped with her hand, the palm pressing against the top of his cock now. This was still very much Miranda’s play, but Shepard was not complaining. He groaned and wrapped his hands around her cheeks, even helping her by pressing them together to squeeze around his shaft.
“Huh, not. Over. Yet,” he growled, his eyes glued to the sight of Miranda’s curves rolling and gliding, her torso twisted, looking even thinner as she still kept reaching back to hold him in place.
Miranda wiggled her hips and as soon as she felt his cock nestled snugly into her valley, she pulled her hand away and keeping the slow, almost hypnotic rhythm, she quickly peeled herself out of her jacket, letting it slide down her arms to reveal her arching back. She cast the garment aside and soon she slipped out of her pants, too, until finally she was clad only in her panties and matching lace bra.
Shepard eagerly lifted a hand to give an encouraging spank to her ass, just to see the flesh ripple, making Miranda gasp out in delight, gripping his knees tight. She was leaning forward to support her weight on her hands but kept her back arching, letting out soft sighs and moans in sync with his grunts, her impossibly round ass seemingly having a life of it’s own as it swayed and rubbed along his cock, tugging at his skin.
The first drops of precum started to bead at the tip of his cock and roll down, smearing on their skin. Shepard’s grip tightened on her ass, his fingers sinking into firm flesh, warranting another needy groan from both of them. He reached out with a hand, fumbling until his fingers wrapped under the string of her panties and pulled at it until it stretched and dug into her flesh, not quite ripping off, just pulling it aside to expose the rest of her. It looked all to delicious, so symmetric and… aesthetic.
Before his eyes could linger on the sight, Miranda pressed her hips back to capture his cock again, returning to the maddening grind now enhanced by her warm, moist folds kissing and licking the underside of his shaft. Shepard felt a tightening as she clenched her ass, trying to squeeze him. Both of them moaned again, him reveling in the view of the arching curves of her back and waist, widening into the globes of her rolling hips; her in the feel of his hardness throbbing between her legs, the tiny tucking of his skin as she rubbed her sex along his shaft, before it got slippery enough to turn into a damp caress.
Shepard watched transfixed as Miranda’s muscles tensed and rolled with every fluid move of her hips and thighs, his cock half-buried between her cheeks, her asshole peeking out for a second on her uplift, the pink, moist petals of her sex pecking a wet kiss on the tip of his cock before sinking out of sight, hiding behind his weiny, throbbing shaft.
He occasionally felt the urge to slap at one of those round buttocks, just to hear Miranda gasp in delight, and watch as the pink mark of his fingers faded out, leaving a faint, rosy hue on her pale skin.
And when he thought it couldn’t get better, Miranda pulled a new trick, straightening her back a bit on the downstroke, making the tip of his cock getting pecked on her asshole, causing a tiny bump in the otherwise smooth glide of their slippery skin, making her gasp in delight in the process.
It made Shepard grip her ass again with both hands, almost as a reflex. He watched the fingers bend her flesh out of shape, trying to recreate the sensation. Miranda seemed to relax her muscles a bit, her ass clenching less so her tight rear entrance can rub off on his cock, gathering his moisture straight from the tip of him, repeating the flick again and again while she held his hard shaft in place, almost threatening to bend his cock.
Enough was enough, though, and when both of them stopped moaning for a second, Shepard squeezed Miranda’s hips in warning, giving her flesh a tiny, suggestive twist to make her arch her back the other way, and angle steeper over his cock.
“Oh,” Miranda sighed in surprise, looking at him curiously over her shoulder. A playful smirk twitched in the corner of her lips as her fingers twitched needily around the base of his shaft, telling Shepard that she was eager to move on, too. Her hips gyrated in smaller circles now, concentrating on spreading their juices around and getting that delicate rosebud of her ass wet and less tight.
Any attempt at communicating with more than growls and grunts were abandoned, both of their breathing becoming shallow, Miranda’s eyes foggy and her face flushed with lust as she occasionally glanced over her shoulder at him, while Shepard was trying very hard to keep his eyes focused on the spot where his cock rubbed on her ass, feeling her whole body tensing up, feeling the throb of his cock through Miranda’s squeeze.
He sunk his thumbs deeper into the flesh of her cheeks and started to pull them apart, just the right amount and right angle to let his cock hitch on the muscles. He watched them tighten and then loosen, creating a dimple that visibly sunk and grew as Miranda worked so delicately to train her muscles to get used to the pressure. Of course that meant more bumps and flicks, making Shepard groan out more and his cock twitch harder until he could barely stop himself from shooting his load right there.
Instead, he decided it was time to turn the tables, waiting for the next time to pull Miranda’s cheeks wider and keeping his cock angled against her tight pucker with a twist of his hip. That caught Miranda’s attention, making her gasp louder, her hands squeezing his knees tighter.
She finally stopped the torturous grinding of her ass and let his cock nestle against her rosebud and with a long exhale she let his grip on her slowly guide her lower against the tip of his cock, while she aligned him with the gentlest squeezes and nudges of her hand on the base of his shaft.
Shepard then arched his back to push his hips forward and put more pressure on the entrance, and letting out a hungry growl through gritted teeth he watched as the tip slowly started to sink into her. He felt her sphincter twitch and clench as she fought the reflex to squeeze, her voice hitching, her hips freezing in place for a second, letting him do the pushing.
“Oh, fucking…” Shepard exclaimed, out of breath at the sensation of warm, tight flesh wrapping around his slippery shaft, feeling when he passed the tight ring of her muscles and his cockhead sunk inside her. The feeling was even better than he imagined it would be.
Miranda seemed to have found her voice, letting out a long, throaty whimper, bowing her head down and exhaling the breath she held in until now, her voice getting lower and deeper as she felt him push inside her.
He let her get accustomed to his girth and shape, holding her hips still and her cheeks spread open, watching the maddening sight of her ass stretching and his cock sinking in. He started to move his cock back and forth gently.
“Fuck…” Miranda gasped, finding her voice again, and looked back at him through a dark curtain of her hair, her stare brimming with unfettered lust. “Unh, Shepard… Please…”
Shepard could feel the tremble in her legs and hands, the restraint as she held back. The pleading voice made him shiver from pleasure, sliding his hands up to the narrowness of her waist and moved his hips slowly back and forth to nestle himself a bit deeper, getting her ready, the tip of his cock already feeling her soft walls.
And then, holding Miranda steady, he pushed up and pulled her down as slow as his patience let him, which was probably a bit fast. She let out a soft cry, tensing for a few seconds as her firm, naked buttocks pressed against his thighs. She exhaled sharply a few times, her shoulders shaking as her body shivered, her muscles clenching and releasing around the base of his shaft.
Shepard pulled himself up, pressing himself against her back, fitting around her ergonomically, his hands sliding up Miranda’s flat belly. He felt her muscles trembling under his palms, her belly rising and falling erratically. He slipped one hand up to cup her breast, the other one sliding down between her thighs, wrapping around her smooth mound.

“Who has the advantage now?” he growled into her ear, pinching her nipple and pressing two fingers against her hooded clit at the same time.
Miranda cried out, her whole body jerking again, pressing that firm ass harder into his lap, her breast crushed against her ribs under his palm.

“Huhh, just… fuck me… already…” she gasped, finding her composure again as the waves of pleasure passed, her insides getting used to his shape and size.
Shepard snickered, holding her against his chest for a few heartbeats more, enjoying the effect, feeling her taut body under his touch.

“Where? Miz Lawson?” he drawled out, putting the emphasis on the second word, holding her nipple and clit hostage between his fingertips.
Miranda let out a frustrated whine, squirming her hip on his lap, then gasping as she felt his cock moving around inside her.

“My ass… fuck…” she whimpered.
Shepard tightened his grip on her chest and her lap and leaned forward, pushing her forward, down onto the coffee table. He shoved the glass and the bottle aside, letting them roll off and drop to the floor and slipped his hands off of her, holding himself up on his hands over her, looking down at the place where their bodies met.
Miranda clung to the edges of the table, pressing her chest down, her hips up, legs slightly spread, gripping his thighs. Shepard reveled in the sight for a few seconds more, until Miranda’s impatient whining and his own throbbing need made him move.
He started with slow, short strokes, pulling out a bit and sinking back with a satisfied grunt, followed by her breathless gasp. He gradually pulled out longer and longer, loosening her up, feeling the silky depths that were tight but there was no resistance at the end. When he pushed down, pressing his lap against her firm ass, he felt like he reached deeper inside her, pulled into her, her muscles stretching as he pulled out, gliding easier with each push, Miranda’s needy whimpers hitching with a harder thrust.
“F-fuck, yes… fuck my ass, huhhh…” Shepard heard Miranda’s voice, her hips rocking back into his thrusts. She was certainly more eager, less nervous and spoke much filthier than their first time at the engine room.
Shepard shifted above her, wanting to watch as his cock sunk so deep inside her ass, to see her ass ripple every time he spanked her with his lap, the noise challenged by her delighted yelps.
A few more thrusts later she fell quiet and tensed up, and Shepard could tell that she was close. He sped up, fucking her harder to tip her over until he felt her body spasm, her muscles clenching hard around the base of his cock, buried deep into her ass, humping him back as she rode out her climax while Shepard drew circles with his hip.
This seemed to animate Miranda as soon as the cloud of pleasure lifted. She turned her head to the side, resting her flushed cheek on the cold surface of the table and looked up at him from the corner of her eyes, biting her lip.
Shepard smirked, shuffling to press her legs closed, trapping them between his thighs and resumed fucking, not holding back this time, his strokes harder and faster, his lap spanking her ass louder.
Miranda somehow managed to slip a hand between the table and her body, fumbling eagerly to rub her clit, her yelps of pleasure getting louder, too. Shepard felt her cum a second time, still strong and hard, squeezing and twitching under him, letting out throaty moans. His balls spanked her soaked folds, adding a fresh, wet sound to every slap.
They were both sweating now, especially him as he kept himself pushed up, his eyes frequently darting to his pistoning cock and her rippling ass. It was quite a workout but it was worth it, Miranda’s moans a music to his ears. He pumped his hips through her orgasm, stretching it out, watching her open lips as she cried out and gasped, pressing her shoulder against her lips just to relieve the tension.
Miranda felt softer now under him, losing her strength rapidly from the latest wave of pleasure. His cock felt even harder now that her muscles were not as tight, her ass sinking down, the grip around his shaft softening. It made him dizzy with need, his cock aching for release.
Shepard shifted his weight, moving both hands to Miranda’s ass, pinning her hip down onto the table, spreading her cheeks wide to see himself pumping in and out of her ass, and watch her swollen, pink folds open, her fingers still wiggling and rubbing her clit needily.
It was enough for him to snarl, sink his fingers into her ass, and not even hearing her cries of shock and pleasure, he started hammering his hip wantonly, his balls spanking her swollen petals. He felt Miranda going very still under him, her whole body tensing as she held onto the table for dear life, wheezing and squealing loudly, over the noise of his lap spanking her ass.
He felt his balls tighten, his thrust becoming erratic, his cock swelling and going rigid, and it felt like nailing her to the table. As the tingling sensation started to spread, reaching his cock and warming it up, his mind getting foggier and his muscles twitching, making his hands buckle, he yanked himself out of her, barely hearing the loud, wet popping sound her ass made, remaining gaping for long seconds, her muscles clenching slowly. He gripped the base of his cock and roaring, he exploded over her back, shooting his hot seed all over her cheeks, even the small of her back, ropes of sticky white fluid splashing onto her perfect, smooth skin, some drops leaking back between her cheeks.
Miranda was also panting loudly, apparently reaching her own peak somewhere along the way, when Shepard’s mind was floating on his own pleasure. They were both gasping for air, him kneeling on his hands and knees over her, waiting for the rush to pass and his breathing to return to normal.
The sight under him was certainly soothing enough. A very contented Miranda Lawson was resting on her belly, spent, her shoulder still rising and falling, her cheeks flushed, the hourglass shape of her torso and full, round ass shifting, shining with the marks of their pleasure, eyes closed, and a smile in the corner of her lips.
“You did it on purpose,” Miranda mumbled, not even opening her eyes, folding her legs up, her heels almost touching her buttocks, shuffling into a more comfortable pose on the table.

“What?”

“The dancing,” she replied softly, her voice still trembling a bit. “You made them feel awkward so you can come back early.” Miranda opened her eyes and looked at him mischievously.
“Now why would I do that?” Shepard inquired with a grin, slipping off the table, and dropping onto the chair, the sight of the woman lying belly down on the table even more appealing from this angle, where he could see the valleys and hills of her shape highlighted much better.
Miranda turned her head towards him, her look and smile answering. Shepard shrugged nonchalantly.

“I promised to make it up to you,” he said, trying to adjust his crumpled clothes back in order.
Miranda nodded and smiled appreciatively.

“However…” Shepard said, before Miranda could move and stand up. “I wouldn’t mind– enjoying the view a bit.”
Miranda frowned, considering the suggestion, biting her lip thoughtfully. She still felt a bit weak in the knees, and the table was comfortable enough. She also didn’t mind if Shepard appreciated her body, especially after this.
She turned up the soft, symphonic music with her omnitool and shuffled a bit, resting her cheek on the back of her hand, her eyes locked with Shepard’s. That shower could wait a few more minutes.

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