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Massage Effect	By : Nicker Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 10429 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and the characters are the property of BioWare/EA. I do not own them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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This is version one of the ending. Choose wisely!

(Just kidding, it's smut!)

As soon as Jack laid down on the table, Miranda relaxed. At least she did not have to see her smirking and her mocking gaze. She could concentrate on the task at hand. She had to admit, the biotic looked more feminine without her atrocious baggy pants. She looked more... human. And young. Miranda could now see the ten years difference between them. Jack wasn’t exactly frail, but she was leaner and less curvaceous than Miranda was, when she was 22. She could imagine that without those tattoos, the biotic would look pretty decent.
She rubbed her palms together exactly the way the tutorials described, her biotics dimly glowing around her hands and wrapped her fingers around Jack’s shoulder at the right spot, fingertips at her nerve endings. She started to squeeze them rhythmically, moving her hands in the precise trail described in the asari method.
After the first few squeezes, when she reached the nape of her neck, Jack gasped.

“What the fuck?!” She groaned, her whole body shivering.

Miranda stopped.

“Something’s wrong?”

“Nuh-no.” Jack sighed, taking a shuddering breath.

Miranda waited.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes. Go on.”

Miranda shrugged. She thought she was doing it right, but there was a chance she inadvertently caused pain. She applied a little less pressure as she started to move down her shoulder blades and the side of her ribs.
“Jesus fuck—” Jack moaned out long, her voice hitching in her throat.

Miranda felt Jack’s body going softer under her touch as the biotic relaxed some more. Fingertips glowing blue, Miranda’s hands made their way downwards, over her kidneys on both sides of her spine. The moaning continued, Jack’s voice going deeper. Miranda could have sworn it was getting lustful. She frowned. Was Jack mocking her? She stopped.
“What? What?” Jack mumbled, tilting her head to the side to look at Miranda from the corner of her eyes.

“I certainly hope you are not mocking me, Jack,” Miranda said sternly. “I put a lot of—”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Jack sighed. “Keep doin’ it.”
Miranda licked her lips and proceeded, concentrating as she reached the thinnest part of her waist. Her fingers wrapped around her sides, kneading the firm, slippery flesh, the tattoos rippling under her touch. Jack tried to stiffle another moan, pressing her lips against the back of her hands, but sound did escape, a pitch higher than before, her hips squirming. Her skin felt warmer than before.

“Uh, shit!”

Miranda stopped again, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“If you’re not taking this seriously—”

“Hyaaah, am serious. Go on,” she mumbled, snaking on the table.
Miranda moved her hands down over her panties and started kneading her thighs just below her firm ass, eliciting more moans from the biotic. Miranda felt every tremble of her muscles under her palm, so she could tell Jack was not trying to laugh, and she certainly wasn’t ticklish. Muscles clenched under her hands, each fingertip sinking into her skin, making little dimples, leaving her flesh relaxed even more than before.
Jack was still moaning, but seemed to calm down a bit, taking deep breaths as Miranda worked her way down. This lasted until the glowing fingertips reached her knee, making Jack twitch again.

“Ah, fuck, there too...? How is that even... Hnnnh,” Jack mumbled when Miranda’s delicate fingers reached her ankle. The biotic shivered, and went limp.

“Ticklish?” Miranda asked suspiciously. The more she worked on loosening Jack’s muscles, the more agitated the biotic seemed. The constant moanings and squirmings were not signs of relaxation, at least they didn’t sound like that for Miranda. “I can stop.”

“Nuh-huh!” Jack objected. There was a disappointed whimper when Miranda finished with her left foot, but then an excited peep slipped out when the Cerberus operative resumed with her right thigh. By the time Miranda finished with that, Jack felt like a tattoed sack of jelly, slumped almost motionless on the table.
Miranda looked over the shining, ink-patterned body on the table and nodded. This was more or less the result it should be, apart from the strange moaning and squirming, which was definitely not normal. But Jack did not tell her to stop, so it must be working.
Miranda shrugged, then grabbed Jack’s ankles, and poking her tongue out between her lips in concentration she started to push her hands upwards on both legs, like smoothing out a fabric, her thumbs on the inside, sliding up the younger woman’s slippery skin. Almost as a sound effect, Jack groaned, slamming her forehead onto her hands, and bucked her hips just when Miranda reached the top of her thighs, making Miranda’s thumbs press against a damp patch right in the middle of Jack’s panties, triggering a gasp from both of them, Miranda pulling away her hands quickly.
“Uh, sorry about that!” Miranda said quickly, lifting her hands up.

“Huh? Wha-?” Jack mumbled, trying to look back at her with sleepy eyes, her ass still squirming.

Miranda looked back at her, ready to defend herself from the wrath of the biotic for poking her sex. Instead what she saw in Jack’s eyes were closer to lust. Miranda glanced back at Jack’s panties with a frown, hands still held up. Could that be—? No. It cannot possibly—!
Miranda blinked, shaking her head. She felt herself blush, slowly lowering her hands.

“You fucking stopped? Why did you fucking stop?!” Jack asked in an annoyed whine, her eyes foggy.

“Uh, well, I thought—”

“Don’t!” Jack said, almost snarling.
Impossible! Miranda thought. Jack positively looked and sounded horny. That cannot be right. Maybe it wasn’t the massage, it was Jack’s fault. All the pent-up biotic tension, probably.
“Don’t you fucking stop!” Jack hissed, still looking at her.

Miranda sighed. Ah, well! If that is what it takes. She almost smiled, proud of her skills and the knowledge of Jack’s weakness.

“All right! Phase two, then.” She rubbed her palms together again, building up warmth and charging up her biotics.

“Fucking phase two! Yesss!” Jack hissed, turning her head forward, wiggling her hip.

Miranda took a deep breath, pressing one hand to the nape of Jack’s neck, the other to the small of her back, just above her ass and started circling her palms along her spine, hands rubbing closer together to meet in the middle of her back.

“Uhhh, what the flying fuck...!” Jack cried out, melting under Miranda’s touch, her back snaking as the biotic charge ran up and down her spine, getting warmer the closer Miranda’s hands travelled. “Mmm, holy shit, I’m—”
The moment Miranda’s hands met, Jack jerked, biting her lower lip and letting out a whine, her whole back arching, ass pushing up and letting out ragged breaths, she came, soaking her lap, collapsing down on the table. Miranda tried to hide her blushing behind a curtain of hair and a deep frown, pouting her lips. It was impossible to ignore the waves of pleasure that radiated from Jack, her biotics firing up and making her whole body glow.
It was as if a cushion of slippery electricity existed between Miranda’s palms and Jack’s skin, currents running in several directions, and Miranda’s hands, almost on their own accord, started traveling up and down along her spine, Jack moaning and swearing louder. Miranda felt her cheeks getting hotter, worrying that somebody might hear the noises and think all the wrong things, and she didn’t need any more awkwardness around the crew, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
It wasn’t even the power she had over Jack, making her squirm like a bitch in heat under her palm. It was the pleasure she was—albeit inadvertently—causing. It felt good, for herself. She couldn’t possibly care about Jack, she told herself, but giving this much pleasure to anyone felt exhilarating. She still convinced herself she was in control.
“Duh-don’t fucking, hyah!” Jack shouted when Miranda’s hands reached the small of her back again. “Down! Muh-more!”

Miranda licked her lips again, feeling her mouth go dry and the heat seeping up along her arms and her cheek, trickling down her spine. She felt biotic energy travel all over their bodies and she could not help but slip her right hand over Jack’s ass, pressing her left palm down against her spine.
“Come on! More!” Jack hissed, squirming her hip to make Miranda move her hand lower, between her thighs. Miranda couldn’t tell if she was doing it on her own accord or not, but she found the wet patch of her panties and two fingers rubbed her slit along her folds.
Jack’s body was rolling like smooth waves on a lake, her movements fluid, almost unnaturally soft. “Yes, right there!” she sighed, resting her head on her arms and closed her eyes, breathing loudly.

Miranda found herself catching her breath, too, the feel of Jack’s soft mound through the fabric making her confused. She knew what she liked, how to be touched, but doing it to Jack, of all people, felt odd. The smell of ozone filled the room as their biotic fields glowed.
Jack was seemingly in Nirvana, just grinding her hip back against Miranda’s fingers, who felt her own knees weakening.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Jack said, not even opening her eyes, just giving a hip-nudge to her. Miranda suppressed a smile and she hooked her fingers into the wet fabric covering her crotch and pulled the panties down, while her left hand kept rubbing her back in small, glowing circles.
Miranda felt her hand tremble a bit as she exposed her sex. She felt the heat reaching her own lap, making her blush deeper, breathing faster. Through her palm, she felt how relaxed Jack was, lying on the table, trusting her. That made her want to do it even more. She rubbed the biotic’s ass in big circles, spreading some of the oily residue on her skin where the panties covered it and moistening her fingertips. She twisted her wrist and tilting her head with it, mouth slightly open from the excited breathing, she slipped two fingers between Jack’s folds and teased her entrance.

“Yuh, mmm-hmm,” Jack moaned, wiggling her hip, pushing back against Miranda’s fingers, luring them in.

“Are you sure?” Miranda whispered, just for the record, but hoped she could continue. She felt like an external force was guiding her moves, some magnetic field, something like their biotics, like she read Jack’s mind and wanted to do this.

She sunk her fingers into Jack’s pussy even as she answered “Fucking yes, don’t you tease me you b-uh!” and Miranda moaned, too, as if she were pressing her fingers inside herself.

It was tight but wet, her fingers slipping in smoothly up to the knuckles, and Jack squirmed and moaned, while Miranda’s hand was rubbing up and down the small of her back, feeling every bump on her spine under her palm.
It didn’t take long for Jack to reach her peak, and Miranda was closely following her, realizing she was gasping and moaning as well, rubbing her thighs together to dissipate some of the heat she felt radiating from her sex, while her fingers ground against Jack’s wet, warm flesh the same way she was massaging her back. And then Jack came with a cry and some curses, repeating them over her wheezing as she tried to catch her breath, flooding Miranda’s hand with her juices.
“The fuck just happened?” Jack asked when she could speak again, her body twitching now and then, her mind focusing.

Miranda blinked, disappointed that she could not come as well, pressing her lips together as she stopped rubbing Jack’s back and slowly pulling her fingers out from her trembling, wet sex.

“I-I don’t know how—” she mumbled, stepping back, a bit disappointed.
What just happened? What did she... they do? Did it work? Miranda felt confused at the results, disappointed that she was left unsatisfied and frustrated because she let it all get out of hand. Or head. Or whatever. She could only hope that at least Jack would back off and stop provoking her. She seemed pleased enough, lying there and purring like a lazy panther after a good meal. Oh, how she wished she could relax like that.

Jack turned towards her, propping herself up on her elbow, exposing her naked chest to Miranda with a grin, in all her tattooed glory.

“Well, it certainly made me not give a fuck about you any more,” Jack snickered.
Miranda nodded. She shouldn’t feel disappointed, she thought, it was Jack, after all.

“Well. I am glad that we got that out of your system,” she replied coldly, wiping her hands in the towel and throwing it at Jack. She nodded to the still smirking biotic, and turned to walk away. “You can leave the towel at the bathroom with the rest—”
She suddenly felt light, lifted into the air in a crackling field of biotic energy. It turned her towards Jack, who had a predatory grin, leaning on her elbow, one leg pulled up to shamelessly expose her lap. Miranda was drifting towards her steadily. The young biotic licked her lips at the sight of her prey.

“But it is only fair to return the favor...”
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Massage Effect