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Cat Fight	By : DarkWolves Category: +M through R > Ratchet & Clank Views: 8658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ratchet & Clank, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 6- The Show

Sasha watched the chain of events unfold, tasting the lust between the two bodies. She slumped down into her command chair hanging in the centre of the Phoenix’s bridge, staring into the screen on the arm of the seat. “Well what do we have here?” She rubbed the pad of her index finger across the screen, relishing the kinky fun of watching Ratchet and Angela play, and them not even knowing she could see everything. On screen Ratchet ran his fingers along Angela’s taut stomach, massaging the tense muscles and turning her too putty in his hands. “Well it seems Ratchets a naughty little lombax”.
She leant back in her command chair, intent on enjoying the show to its fullest. It was then that a messed up, twisted and totally kinky idea ran through her mind. She ran her palm across her chest, the tickling sensation hardening her nipples on contact, pressing them against the tight fabric of her uniform. Even through her thick clothes the feeling was intensifying. She circled her finger around her right nipple, leaving behind a tingling trail as she moved. She moved across her chest to tweak the left one with her finger, sighing softly with each pluck, blowing on the smoldering embers of desire that were now igniting inside of her.
She felt her uniform tighten around her, her sweat mixing with her fur and heating the inside of her uniform. She had to relieve herself of her outer shell, spread her wings and fly. She felt claustrophobic in her uniform, like she was ready to rip it away from her skin with her razor sharp claws. She tugged roughly at her clothes, desperate to feel the cool breeze on her bare fur. But her uniform refused tear. She fondled her chest roughly, searching desperately for the zipper that would secure her release from her fabric containment. She searched and scratched, a wave of relief flowing over her when she finally found the small metal tag tucked away at the base of her neck. She tugged at it, relishing the feeling as the tight uniform peeled away from her, delighting the freedom.
Once the zip was about half way down, past her cleavage and the mould of her breasts, she snaked her right hand inside the barrier of her shirt, past her bra to touch the core of the mould. Touching the bare nipple amplified the experience tenfold, the simmering embers now rising into roaring flames of desire, with Ratchet’s show providing the air too keep her fires burning. She twirled her finger around the areola, leaning her back as she was washed up in the pleasure, the fear and the sure thrill of the risk driving her.
She glanced back at the screen, watching as Ratchet pounded relentlessly into Angela’s dripping pussy. Watching as her firm ass created waves with each hard thrust. Sasha ripped the zipper of her outfit down her fuzzy stomach, exposing the dark brown furry layer below it. She scratched her claws over her stomach, loosening the taut muscles and sending uncontrolled spasms ripping through her.
Slowly, teasing herself, she moved closer and closer to her centre. She felt as though she could get off on the anticipation alone, but she persisted. She crawled slowly closer, her hand brushing against the soft fur as she etched closer. Every thought in her head screamed for her too touch herself, but she wanted to feel the pure rush of joy when it finally happened. Finally she reached her target; she scraped her finger over her ballooned clit. And the experience of it was more than she had every imagined.
She slipped her index finger inside, her warm walls forming around her finger as it slid deeper and deeper inside her. She cried out with the pleasure, the sound resonating off the high walls of the deserted bridge. She slipped her finger trough her outer folds, causing herself to screech loudly as her pent up lust finally spilled over. She stared at the screen, having to fight to keep her eyes open as she watched Ratchet pound mercilessly into Angela’s dripping snatch. God, she wished it was her that Ratchet was hammering into, not Angela. But for now she was going too make do and enjoy watching Angela. “Yeah Ratchet, you pound into that little bitch” She yelled into the screen, not caring that neither Ratchet nor Angela would hear her remarks. “She’s just your dirty little slut, she’s yours to command” Sasha reached up too her right breast, bouncing the mound of flesh in her hand playfully. “She’s a bad girl that needs to punished, I’m the one you should have” Tickling the sensitive tip.
She leaned her head back against the seat, her head resting on the headrest as she continued watching the screen. Watching the sweat run down their furry naked bodies. Licking her lips she tasted the sweat that ran down Angela’s long elegant frame and Ratchets hardened muscles, delicious. She pulled her right breast up closer to her mouth, her tongue circling over the taut nipple, the taste was exasperating. The texture, amazing. She used her sharp teeth to bite down on her sensitive tip, the pain mixing with the pleasure to create a cocktail that spurred her horny lust onwards. Feeling that her left nipple was being neglected her left hand reached to the mound, her mouth moving across to the other nipple to drain the nipple of it’s taste. All the while she watched as Ratchet mercilessly pulverized Angela’s dripping snatch, and all the while dreading that it was not her that was being ravaged by Ratchet’s claws. But for now she would settle for herself.
She rose too her feet, letting her one-piece uniform slide down her agile form and pool at her ankles, the fabric collapsing upon itself at the end of her furry paws. She stepped out of the uniform, her bare paws touching the cool deck sending a shiver down her spine. She flung her leg over the arm of the chair, resting her inner knee on the soft padding of the seat. With her knee supporting her weight and her left paw touching the deck she lowered herself down onto the arm of the seat, the soft material parting her outer lips as her engorged clit brushed against the arm, she gasped. “Oh god that feels fucking amazing”
She thrust her hips slowly forward, always ensuring that her dripping snatch never broke contact with the armrest. With each thrust she made more and more of her juices slid out of her and drenched the armrest, slickening the armrest and making each thrust that followed it easier and easier. Every couple of thrusts she would turn her hips in place, grinding into the sides of the armrests ensuring that her clit was rubbed against the hard armrest each time. She imagined it was Ratchets tool that she was brushing up against; she closed her eyes and imagined Ratchet beneath her, his hardened 7,inch rod glistening with her sparkling juices as she ground her pussy lips against him, each time moving closer and closer to the tip, but always retreating backwards in a teasing manner. She pinched her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, adding another spark to the fires of her desire. Feeling as though she could explode right there and then. She could feel her hand moving closer and closer to her pussy, but she stayed her hand.
She rose off of the armrest, her subconscious screaming for her to continue as she waited precariously at the tipping point, one final thrust ready to tip her over the edge into the fires of a raging orgasm. But she wanted to really enjoy the end. She sat back down on her seat, feeling the cool sweat she had left on the seat streak across the fur of her back. She let her hand slid down her stomach, tickling the muscles as she passed down towards her dripping snatch, brushing over the top of her snatch.
Eventually, she decided to indulge herself. Letting her index finger slide inside herself she felt her outer lips part to allow her access into her delicate insides. She slowly began to speed up her thrusting, adding another finger as she went. “Aggh” she panted. The pressure inside her finally beginning to spill over, she raised her right leg over the arm of the chair, hooking the leg over the armrest and allowing her easier access too her deepest folds. She imagined Ratchets tool pumping in and out of her, his monstrous cock threatening to split her tight cunt in two. She remember back to when he had penetrated her before, remembering the heat he radiated, the thrill as he filled every corner of her virgin pussy. God how she wanted him again. “This is for you RATCHET!” She screeched as she arched her back, ready for the final thrust that would spell the end of this chapter. Her cum spilt out of her open wound, spilling down the chair too stain the metallic deck below her. She flopped back into her seat, still recovering from the blissful aftershock of her orgasm, content to just let the drain of energy be the lullaby that drifted her off to sleep with thoughts of Ratchet in her mind.
These hopes however were tarnished as the screen beeped once more. She forced her eyes open. A banner flashed on screen ‘Bridge Tram Power Restored’. “Here he comes” Sasha lowered her leg off of the armrest, crossing her legs on the seat and resting her arm on the armrests. Her posture commanding and demanding respect. Sasha sat there, her uniform dumped her feet and her cum dripping down the seat and staining the deck, some of it drizzling down Sasha’s long athletic legs.
The door to the bridge slid open, Sasha didn’t dare move as Ratchet stepped up the stairs towards her, Angela closely in tow. Ratchet scanned across the floor, taking in the cum sprawled across the floor, the uniform dropped at her feet. Easily putting the pieces together. “I see you had fun”
“I got bored waiting for you, so I made do” An evil smirk grew across her face. She made a ‘come here’ gesture with her finger. “But now you’re both here. And I’m ready to go again”
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Cat Fight