Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Dark Temptation, Dark Desires	By : SinandSmut Category: +G through L > Halo Views: 14620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: WARNING: This fic contains themes of cheating, adultery, betrayal, and netrorare. If none of these themes are for you, I suggest you turn back now.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
WARNING: This fic can be correctly categorized as smut, and as such will be operating based on porn logic, with characters occasionally acting OOC. It contains themes of cheating, adultery, betrayal, and netrorare. If none of these themes are for you, I suggest you turn back now. For those that are turned on by such sinful taboos, I believe you are in for a real treat.
Please remember, fantasy should be correctly interpreted as just that. A fantasy. It should go without saying that I do not morally support the actions represented in this story, and they should not be practiced by anyone for any reason.
However, I do find these themes to be sexually appealing, and know that many others do as well. As to whom I identify with, the seducer, the cheater, or the cuckold, that unfortunately will have to remain a mystery. As to whom the reader should identify with, that I will leave up to you.
Enjoy.

The Master Chief moved through the broken landscape, his mind on full alert. He stepped quickly over each pile of rubble, the remains of a desolated colony all around him. Destroyed buildings casting long shadows by the light of a burning flame colored sky, their dark interiors the subject of his suspicion as he moved past them cautiously and in complete silence.
John glanced up at the sky, the destroyed hull of the Infinity hovering overhead like a wounded Titan. He tightened his grip on the assault rifle and continued moving forward, eyes warily checking his motion sensors for any hint of movement.
He passed the body of a Crimson clad Spartan IV, the young soldier’s body lying motionless in the ruins of a window, shards of glass glittering on top of his Mjolnir armor.
John paused for a moment. He had been here before, and remembered this Spartan IV well. It had been him who had smashed the young inexperienced Spartan through the window, pushed a pistol underneath his chin, and pulled the trigger.
A small part of John felt bad for him. Some young kid fresh out of training who thought he could get a lucky jump on the Master Chief and make a name for himself.
Chief shook his head. He had to keep reminding himself that not everyone who graduated from Spartan training nowadays were indeed Spartans.
Some of them were, however, and that’s what made him wary.
Somewhere he knew Cortana was watching him, her electric blue eyes examining his every movements. That was something he was used to. Even after her transformation from the digital into the corporeal Cortana still watched every mission and training session with analytic precision. It was useful to figure out faults in his combat methodology and increase the efficiency in his training, but he still found himself missing her guardian angel like presence with him on missions.
Nor was Blue Team with him this time. No, this time he would have to rely solely on his own abilities and skills.
That was alright though. The greater the challenge the better overcoming it felt, and John loved to win.
There was a slight blip on his motion sensor, a brief flash of red that momentarily lit up his HUD.
The hairs on the back of John’s neck stiffened and he crouched down low, preferring to take a conservative approach to what he was sure was an imminent encounter. Suddenly the red blip flashed in his HUD again and the ground next to John erupted in a shower of bullets. John’s reflexes kicked in before his brain even processed what was happening, the aged Spartan rolling swiftly to the left, a trail of bullets following him.
He rolled into a nearby building, posted against a wall, and began to return fire at the roof of an opposite building. He saw a flash of blue followed by a familiar shape, the thruster packs propelling the Spartan IV along the rooftops.
John gritted his teeth. “Spartan Locke,” he muttered.
The Master Chief pounded down the street, legs turning into a blur as he sprinted as fast as he could. Still, Locke with his thrusters remained ahead of him. After a hundred yards Locke unexpectedly turned around, the Spartan IV using his thrusters to propel himself back towards Chief faster than anticipated. The Master Chief brought up his assault rifle, letting off several controlled bursts as Locke rocketed towards him.
Spartan Locke collided with the Master Chief, forcing the older Spartan backwards. John attempted to bring his assault rifle up again, but Locke tore it out of his hands, the rifle splashing in the mud as the two continued to fight.
Locke immediately went on the offensive, attacking with a strong right hook. John easily blocked it and counter attacked with his combat knife, the blade singing through the air and narrowly missing Locke’s helmet. The Spartan IV danced away and withdrew his own combat knife.
The two combatants circled around each other, their heavy armored boots sinking deep into the mud. They came together in a flurry of thrust, counter thrust, and parry. Sparks flew as their blades collided together, the mud underneath them churning into a thick brown semi liquid as they continued their dance.
They broke apart just long enough for both to catch their breaths.
Locke nodded at John. “You’re getting slow in your old age.”
John readjusted his grip on the combat knife. “And you’re too inexperienced.”
“Hmmph,” Locke hummed, bringing his knife up, its edge pointing at John’s face. He brought up his free hand and motioned for John to come closer.
The Master Chief did not have to be told twice. He lunged at the younger Spartan, intent on finally putting an end to it. The two grappled, matching strength for strength. John put all his weight and strength behind his arms, willing his body past its own limitations, but much to his surprise it was Locke who was winning the struggle.
The danger alarms in John’s head sounded and he attempted to pull away, but the attempted retreat merely provided an opportunity for Locke. The Spartan IV pushed his advantage, a sudden surge of reserve strength forcing John down on one knee and into the mud, Locke standing tall over him.
Somewhere in the bowels of Infinity, Cortana watched the death struggle on screen, the dim light glowing on her pale white face.
“Come on John,” she quietly urged. Locke stood tall and proud, his posture a full display of male dominance. He forced John even further down into the mud. John attempted to rise again but was met with only more pain as Locke twisted both of Chief’s arms at an angle that made Cortana cringe.
It was like watching two males fight for dominance, and Cortana willed for her chosen mate to find some reserve of energy.
“Get up,” Cortana urged again, a little louder this time. “You can do it John.”
But for once Cortana was wrong. When for the third and final time John attempted to get back up off his knees, Locke head butted him savagely, causing John to sprawl fully on his back. Locke stood on his chest, pressing the Master Chief further down into the thick brown mud like a conquering king.
Cortana felt a shiver roll up her spine. Something she interpreted as fear, but her subconscious saw as far more different. Something far more primal.
Locke took out his pistol, aimed coolly at John’s face, and fired.
Cortana thudded her forehead on the screen in frustration as Roland’s voice echoed on the speakers overhead.
TRAINING SIMULATION 249-ED3 OVER. THE WINNER IS SPARTAN JAMESON LOCKE. GOOD JOB TO ALL OF YOU SPARTANS.
“Well, that was surprising,” said a slightly cocky feminine voice from behind Cortana. Palmer raised a slender eyebrow at her. “I was expecting a IV to beat a II eventually, but I never expected it would be him that lost.”
Cortana huffed and blew a stray strand of short raven black hair out of her face. She knew that she should not be angry at Palmer, but her naturally protective nature towards John made it hard not to. “And to think, it only took twenty-two of your Spartans to take him down. I’d like to see any one of them take on the odds Chief has.”
“This was Elimination Deathmatch though,” Lasky said standing a few feet behind Palmer, his chin cupped in his hand and his brow furrowed in thought, watching the display screen as the holographic arena reset. What was once a destroyed city now because an almost painful plane of bleach white. Throughout the arena, the scattered bodies of the fallen Spartan IVs began to stir, as well as one very disgruntled II. As the others realized what had happened, they began to crowd around Locke, slapping his armor and bumping their helmets against his. Cortana watched with a frown as John firmly shook Locke’s hand, and then slumped off on his own.
Lasky sighed heavily. “The Master Chief has never participated in a Deathmatch simulation with only Spartan IVs. One of the theories bouncing around HIGHCOM is that the IIs work together during their Deathmatch session to ensure that they are always the last ones standing no matter who wins. I’m really not looking forward to seeing Osman’s smug face when I told her the outcome of this match.”
Cortana folded her arms across her chest, the wrinkled and lightly stained lab coat doing little to hide her curvaceous figure. “And I suppose they’ll conveniently ignore that Fred, Kelly, and Linda all won their matches?”
“Bingo,” Palmer said. “Never underestimate HIGHCOM’s ability to cherry pick data they like and ignore all the facts they determine inconvenient.”
Behind her Lasky muttered, more to himself than to them. “If it was any of the others I might have made a case, but Chief?” He shook his head. “I’ve got to go make a call. Ladies, if you’ll say a prayer for me.”
“Always, Thomas,” Palmer smiled, her eyes lingering on him as he walked out. She then turned back towards Cortana. “You know how much I respect the Master Chief, but can you at least try to see things from my perspective?”
Cortana glared at her. “How exactly?”
“You might not like the outcome, but the bottom line is that this is a big deal for the Spartan program. Chief losing gives the Branch a lot more legitimacy in a lot of people’s eyes.”
“By taking it away from John,” Cortana said stubbornly. “He is the best Spartan that ever lived.”
“Was the best,” Palmer countered. She spared a glance at the viewing screen, Locke just now making his way out of the arena. “Looks like there might just be someone else who will be able to claim that title.” She smiled at the younger woman, and gently bumped Cortana’s shoulder on her way out of the room. “Not that bad to look at either.”
Cortana silently fumed, but forced herself to regain control of her emotions. It clouded her logic. John was the best, that much was without a doubt.
It was twenty-two against one, she thought, but immediately dismissed that as a reason. It was a melee after all. A free for all Deathmatch. While Cortana remembered at least a few times during the match that Chief had to take on multiple opponents at once, the nature of the simulation did not allow for much cooperation or coordination between participants.
Unless you’re a Spartan II that is, Cortana thought, remembering the ONI criticism that Lasky had mentioned. She dismissed that thought as well. John was not a man who cheated, Cortana remembering well his insistence on Reach about completing their first mission together within the rules set up by the ONI Testers. She had found him frustratingly stubborn at the time, but it spoke volumes about his overall character, and one of the things that had eventually made Cortana fall for him.
No, Cortana reasoned. There had to be something else. Some sort of ONI armor upgrade they had secretly given Locke to increase his odds of winning, or perhaps subtly sabotaging John’s armor. Even making the Mjolnir one percent less effective could have enormous consequences for the user.
Cortana determined herself to find out, walking swiftly out of the observation room with her head held high and a newfound sense of purpose.
Her path towards John took her through what Roland had affectionately dubbed Spartan Land, the other Spartan IVs busying themselves with taking off their armor, support technicians scrambling around to run diagnostics and make the necessary repairs and tune ups. Cortana had to admit to herself that the Spartan IV area was impressive, even if the solid white coloring of the room gave it a sterile and overly clean feel to it.
Out of the corner of her eye Cortana saw several of the Spartan men hitting each other on the arm as she walked past, their eyes following her. Sexual, and sometimes raunchy comments coming from underneath their breath just quiet enough to where Cortana could not make out what they were saying.
Cortana did her best to conceal her smile, and made her hips sway just a little bit more as she walked. That she took such enjoyment out of the male gaze was her little secret, something that she guessed not even John knew. There was, after all, a reason why she had chosen as an AI to take the form of a young, beautiful, attractive woman. There was power in her looks, and a secret thrill of knowing just how desirable she was. She could have any man that she wanted, but they could never have her.
None of them will ever be good enough and they know it, Cortana thought evilly. The ability to indulge within her own fantasy of being that bad gave her a secret thrill. It was part of the reason why sex with John was so fulfilling. He was the best, and Cortana was so attractive that she could claim the best. That she was so irresistible that even the Master Chief was seduced by the temptation; years of conditioning and sexual repression being thrown away the moment he saw her naked, vulnerable, and human form splayed out for him on his bed, her sex parted and waiting for him.
Cortana imagined all those young and eager Spartan IVs watching as John fucked her. She imagined the dismay on their faces as they all realized how inadequate they were. She imagined looking at them, arms wrapped around John’s muscular back, his hips slamming away at hers. Cortana smiled cruelly at them and said No, none of you will ever have me. None of you will ever be good enough. I’m the best, and I deserve the best. You little boys just don’t measure up.
A tingle went up Cortana’s spine as she continued to daydream about how John would show those little IVs what a real Spartan looked like. How she could revel and berate them about how much better he was than them. It truly was bad, Cortana knew, and that was what made it so thrilling.
Cortana got so lost in her daydream that she failed to pay attention to where she was going. The inevitable happened when she collided with a wall of hard muscle. Cortana collided so hard that she nearly stumbled off her feet. Two strong hands grabbed both her shoulders to steady her, and a deep smooth voice asked, “You alright there little lady?”
Cortana looked up to see Spartan Jameson Locke smiling down at her, and her eyes immediately narrowed into harsh slits as sharp as daggers. “I am not your little lady,” Cortana said in a voice so harsh that she almost growled. She sounded most like Halsey when she was angry, but Locke seemed unfazed.
“I’m sorry,” Locke apologized, sounding genuinely polite, even gentlemanly, though his hands remained firmly on Cortana’s shoulders. “But are you alright? You seemed kind of dazed walking through here.”
Cortana brushed his hands away from her shoulder’s roughly. “I’m Infinity’s lead scientist. I’m allowed to let my mind wander if I wish.”
“Fair enough,” Locke conceded, taking a step away from her. He was out of his armor, his black bio suit clinging tight to his heavily muscular body. It was difficult for Cortana not to look, and immediately she noticed a difference. John was indeed muscular, but his was a more practical looking build. Stout, strong, and bulky. A body built for work rather than for looks. Locke, on the other hand, and a physique that could conventionally be considered far more physically appealing. The augmentations had bolstered his strength, but not at the cost of his form. He was imposing certainly, clear raw power in his arms, but was also very easy to look upon.
Cortana’s eyes briefly wandered downward, and widened suddenly when she saw the very large bulge at his crotch. The suit certainly did not leave much to the imagination. Cortana’s eyes immediately shot back upward again as she pretended not to have noticed anything, but Locke gave her a knowing look.
“Like what you see?” he asked quietly so that only she could hear.
“Excuse me?” Cortana asked, unnerved at how forward he was being.
“You know what I mean,” Locke said. He gave her an obvious up and down look, and it was clear that he was mentally undressing her. “You’re not bad to look at yourself.”
Cortana folded her arms across her chest defensively, though it made her look more vulnerable than defiant. She tried to ignore how stiff her nipples were getting. “Apology accepted Spartan Locke,” Cortana said as formally as she could. “You should watch where you’re going next time.”
Locke chuckled warmly. “Sure thing little lady.”
Cortana decided to ignore the comment that time and instead brushed past Locke, continuing to cover her chest as she did. She adjusted her posture to look more natural, but she could still feel Locke’s eyes staring at her as she walked away.
“Make sure you tell Chief no hard feelings,” Locke yelled after her, but Cortana ignored him.
There were more tingles up Cortana’s spine, and this time she knew exactly what it meant.
Calm down, Cortana thought. You were already horny when he showed up. It’s nothing. Cortana thought back to what Palmer had said about Locke being attractive.
Well, she was right. Cortana could not deny that.
But he wasn’t the best.
He wasn’t her Spartan.
He wasn’t John.
Cortana attempted to slip back into her fantasy. Tried to imagine John pounding into her as Locke watched on in dismay. Tried to imagine the look on Locke’s face as he realized he could never hope to match John. That he was simply an inferior mate.
Much to Cortana’s surprise, and much against her will, she instead got a brief image of Locke pounding in her, his dark skin contrasting sharply against her pale white figure, his form that of pure dominance.
The thought shocked her, as if some unknown force had placed it there against her will. She pushed it out of her thoughts, returning from her secret fantasy world into the real one, and focused again on making her way towards John.
Cortana could ignore what her mind was telling her, but she could not ignore her body. Underneath her plain lab pants that clung suggestively to her hips, Cortana’s panties were soaking.
…

The Master Chief slammed the assault rifle down on the table, taking it apart for at least the third time since Cortana had walked in to the Spartan II armory. Being a Spartan aboard Infinity gave you special privileges. Being a Spartan II or III gave you even more. Private quarters, if you chose, and an armory, equipment, exorcise facility, and mess separate from the other, more numerous Spartan IVs.
“It’s not the rifle John,” Cortana said patiently.
“I know it’s not,” John said, though he continued to disassemble it. His armor was off and was currently laid out methodically on an equipment table, various tools, equipment, and diagnostic machines scattered around it. Cortana had taken it upon herself to make sure that all Blue Team’s equipment was properly maintained and upgraded. It may have given her extra work to do, but Cortana found it soothing to work on something she was so intimately familiar with. It gave her an excuse to take a break from her normal daily work, and an excuse to spend time with John.
Cortana sighed. John was clearly agitated, and she really couldn’t blame him. “Losing once is meaningless. HIGHCOM is going to want to see the match repeated I’m sure of it. We have plenty of time to figure out how to beat him.”
“I don’t lose,” John said stubbornly.
“Well you did today,” Cortana shot back, her voice coming out harsher than she meant to.
John stopped what he was doing and turned around. He did not seem hurt by what she said. More surprised than anything else, but still Cortana felt guilty.
“I’m sorry,” Cortana said quietly. “I didn’t mean that.”
“You did,” John said in his deliberate tone.
They stared at each other for several moments. Eventually Cortana had to look away. She cleared her throat and said, “It doesn’t matter. We’ve faced tougher enemies before. The Prophets, the Flood, Didact, The Warden.” Cortana chuckled. “I think even Spark was more of a challenge than Locke.”
John arched an eyebrow.
“My point is that you’re right. You didn’t lose, it’s just a momentary set back. We know how much some of the folks at HIGHCOM are trying to push the Spartan IV program.”
“I don’t have a problem with that,” John said. “We need all the Spartans we can get.”
“Neither do I,” Cortana said. “But they seem to have gotten into their head that the only way to do that is to belittle the Spartan II Program.”
John thought for a moment before asking, “What are you trying to get at?”
“That I smell Osman on this,” Cortana said. “We know that she holds a grudge on both of us.”
“Can’t imagine why,” John said sarcastically.
Cortana rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m sure that she is behind this somehow. We both know how devious ONI can be. Even a slight nudge in Locke’s favor could have been enough to ensure the outcome of the match. I’m thinking a clandestine armor upgrade.” She glanced at the Mjolnir splayed out on the workbench. “There was nothing wrong with your armor was there?”
John shook his head.
“You sure? I don’t recall seeing you use thrusters.”
“Those are more Kelly’s speed,” John replied. He went back to his assault rifle, examining each piece critically before putting it back together.
Cortana decided not to pick the argument. Instead he came up next to him and said, “Hurry up and get that thing back together. After our seventy-two hour pass we can get a fresh start on figuring out what went wrong.”
“I’m not going,” John replied.
Cortana looked shocked. “I’ve already made reservations. You promised me John. We only get so many three day passes while Infinity is docked.”
“I know,” John said apologetically. “Fred, Linda, and Kelly all won their matches. They’re going to need my help to prepare.”
Cortana frowned. “Do you know how much I was looking forward to this? I had a dress picked out and everything.” She shook her head. “You know I see right through this, don’t you? You can’t solve all your problems with more training.”
“Lasky ordered me to,” John said. “He wants to make sure that the rest of Blue Team is ready for the final match.”
Cortana’s frown deepened. The call to HIGHCOM must have shaken up Lasky more than I thought it would.
She sighed her resignation and asked, “And exactly how long do you think you’ll be?”
“I don’t know,” John said gruffly. He turned to face her. “You should go anyway.”
Cortana blinked. “Without you?”
John nodded. “I know how you get when you feel cooped up.”
“Am I really that bad?”
“Yes,” John said, and Cortana chuckled lightly.
“And what exactly am I supposed to do without my Spartan around to look grumpy and scare the waiters?” Cortana asked teasingly.
John shrugged. “Have fun?”
“Fun,” Cortana said, chewing on the word. “That’s a bit strange coming from you.”
“You deserve some time off,” John said. “I’ll be done up here as quick as I can. I promise.”
“Fair enough,” Cortana said. “Promise you’ll meet me at our apartment as soon as you’re done?” she asked, and John nodded. “Alright, and in exchange I’ll try having some of this ‘Fun’ that you’re talking about.”
John smiled, and took a step towards Cortana, wrapping his arms loosely around her. He was always so gentle around her, as if he was afraid that she might break. Cortana buried her head in his chest and hummed. “You have any idea how horny I’ve been lately?” she whispered to him, digging her nails into his chest. “And now you’re making me wait even longer.”
“I’m sorry,” John whispered into her dark raven hair.
“Sure you are,” Cortana said looking up at him. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek in her palm and looked him straight in the eye. “I love you,” she said softly.
John covered her hand in his. “I know.”
Cortana stood on her tip toes, and the two met for a soft, sweet, chaste kiss.

…

Cortana leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk with a frustrated groan, cupping her head in her hands as data flew by on the screen in front of her.
The apartment that she had gotten for her and John on Earth was modest in size, boasting a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. The living room of course had to perform multiple duties, a couch and television sharing the same space as the dining area, Cortana’s treadmill, and her makeshift office space.
Still, Cortana was proud of the space she had built for the two of them.
Currently, Infinity’s tour of duty lasted eight months out of the year, with the remaining four months spent docked at Earth to take on additional supplies, make necessary repairs and upgrades, and take on new personnel.
Given how remote and dangerous many of Infinity’s missions were, HIGHCOM had determined that Infinity’s crew should be regularly rotated to avoid undue psychological stress. Of course, this did not apply to essential personnel such as Spartans, engineers, and lead scientists such as herself.
Still, Cortana had reflected, spending four months docked at Earth was nice, providing some much-needed stability to their otherwise hectic lives. Nearly every weekend included a thirty-six-hour pass, hence why Cortana had found the need to rent an apartment for overnight stays These passes were a treat.
A treat that was now being wasted.
Cortana grumbled as she took a sip from her coffee mug, nearly spilling over a half-finished cup of ramen as she did so, several other empty cups scattered around the desk, white plastic spoons sticking out of them like grave stones.
She had long since discarded her bra, the underwear now hanging loosely from one of the handles on the treadmill.
Still, she remained uncomfortable, and Cortana cursed John underneath her breath.
It was not so much that they were missing their dinner date, Cortana having made reservations at a quiet restaurant of little note ever mindful of how uncomfortable John was in large crowds. No, her irritation with him came from something far more basic.
Cortana knew she was currently ovulating, her body was making that as obvious as possible. Her nipples were stiff and overly sensitive, her mind wandering easily to thoughts that would make even the most foul mouthed marine blush. Her hormones were running wild, the basic evolutionary need calling for her to act. To mate. To breed.
“Damn you John,” Cortana mumbled underneath her breath. She quietly chastised herself for that. She knew that it was not John’s fault, but knowing that did not make her any less irritated at him.
Cortana leaned back and stretched, and again her stiff nipples rubbed against her cotton t-shirt, sending a new wave of sensations throughout her body.
Once more, and very much against her will, Cortana’s mind flashed back to Locke smiling down at her. The feel of his strong hands on both of her shoulders. His easy confidence. How she had felt seeing him standing mightily over John as he prepared to deliver the final blow. The image of him fucking her senselessly.
Get a hold of yourself Cortana, she thought, shaking her head vigorously, as if trying to forcibly knock the sinful thoughts out of her head.
It was little use, and again Cortana found herself cursing John.
He should be here, Cortana thought. I’m as wet and ready as I’ve ever been. He should be here claiming me. Reminding me that I’m his. Instead I’m stuck here horny as hell and having thoughts about someone I don’t even like.
What Cortana had found analyzing the data from John and Locke’s match had done little to improve her mood.
No matter how hard she searched she could finding nothing, not one shred of evidence that Locke had somehow been given an unfair advantage.
She had analyzed the data from both John and Locke’s suits of Mjolnir and had found no discernable difference in their levels of performance. The only discrepancy Cortana had managed to find was in how they were being used. Locke, during the match, had been swifter, stronger, and more agile. If it was not the armor that was giving him an unfair advantage over John, then there was only one logical conclusion.
He’s simply better, Cortana thought, the idea twisting a tight knot in her belly, while also somehow simultaneously giving her the case of the butterflies.
Cortana had spent at least half an hour replaying over and over again the final confrontation between John and Locke. How Locke had in the end simply used brute strength to force the Master Chief down into the mud.
Her panties were growing wet again…
Cortana closed out the video and turned off her screen.
I feel like I’m going rampant, she thought, rubbing her eyes vigorously.
“Ugh, shower,” Cortana groaned. “Need a shower.”
There was nothing like a good hot shower to help clear her mind. The feel of hot water rolling down her skin, of the steam clearing out her pours. The dirt and the worries of the day cascading down her pale, lithe body and rolling down the drain.
She went to the bathroom and undressed, the clothes tossed unceremoniously into a corner, and Cortana did not fail to examine her naked body critically in the mirror.
She was very proud of her figure, perhaps even bordering on vanity. This pride and vanity became even more prominent once she had won her corporeal body and had to start taking care of it, and take care of it she did.
Despite her diet being admittedly less than ideal, long hours of lab work and study not being suitable to anything less than quick easy to make meals, Cortana supplemented this with rigorous exorcise, and her efforts showed.
Even unwashed and cut short, Cortana’s hair was dark and beautiful with hardly a stray or damaged bit of hair to be found. She allowed it to grow just below her ears, and took great pains to make sure it was kept healthy and full looking.
Her face had always been beautiful, soft, delicate, and symmetrical. A face that could easily feign innocence, hint at mischievousness, and display fierce intelligence. Cortana carefully examined her face for any sort of blemishes, wrinkles, lines, or crow’s feet. Once satisfied her hands slipped downward, cupping one heavy breast, her finger tracing circles over the stiff and oversensitive nipple methodically.
They were young and firm, but not overly large, and Cortana gave her breast a soft squeeze.
She smiled at herself, her hard nipples standing up like two pink erasers. Even a blind man would have been able to tell that these were Cortana’s greatest physical assets. Cortana’s hand continued downward, palms feeling every inch of her pale and beautiful skin. She ran a hand over top her smooth, fit stomach and pinched at her side. She wanted a tone stomach, but not too tone. She wanted a pack of abs no more than she wanted a roll of belly fat, and attempting to maintain the distance between the two was certainly not easy.
Her hands found themselves running along her hips, and then to her ass, Cortana pinching slightly to test the firmness. She turned around and looked at herself over her shoulder, her back dotted with the occasional colony of freckles. This Cortana did not mind, finding that the freckles served to enhance her beauty.
Perhaps I am vain, Cortana reflected. But with a body like this who can blame me?
A few jealous women perhaps, and perhaps even a few men who were forced to dream about her but could never have her, but that was the price of beauty wasn’t it?
And the prize, Cortana thought, indulging again in that forbidden and hidden fantasy that only she knew of.
Cortana stepped into the shower and relished the feeling of hot water on her skin. She washed her hair with lavender shampoo, and then finished with coconut scented conditioner, allowing it to soak in her hair for two minutes. She next rubbed lavender soap over her skin, her body shivering as she rubbed the rough scrubber along her breasts and inner thighs.
Even after she was clean Cortana stayed in the shower for several more minutes, sitting down on the seat inside and letting the hot water roll down her back, the heat changing the tone of her skin from pale to light pink. She attempted to clear her mind, but it was little use. Her hormones simply would not allow it.
When John comes home he’ll be lucky if I don’t rip his clothes off right in the doorway, Cortana thought bitterly.
Well, where John had failed in his mission, Cortana certainly knew how to pick up the slack herself.
She pulled the head off the shower, extended the hose, and moved the dial to her favorite setting.
The water came out in warm, vibrating jets. The name of the setting was ‘Massage’, though there was only one thing Cortana used it to massage.
She leaned back in the seat and let the vibrating jets smack against the sensitive lips of her pussy. Cortana parted the lips with two of her fingers, the hot water now splashing against her pink inner walls. With the tip of her thumb Cortana rubbed circles around her clit, hitting all the right notes with practiced precision.
Cortana leaned her head back and softly moaned. Yet, when she closed her eyes it was not John she thought of.
Her back was arched, sweat rolling from her forehead, moans coming out of her mouth uncontrollably.
She used her elbows to prop herself up, and there he was, his eyes staring at her hungrily, as though she was nothing more than prey to him. A prize to be won.
His black muscular body rippled as he thrust into her in long deliberate strokes, sending waves of uncontrollable ecstasy through her.
“Fuck me,” Cortana found herself whispering in the shower, her fingers working with an ever-increasing urgency. As her orgasm approached Cortana found herself whispering a name. “Jameson. Oh God.”
In her fantasy, Locke obliged her plea. He posted a strong dark arm by her head, and lifted her hips up so that he could plunge into her even deeper. Cortana’s moans became more erratic as Locke picked up his pace, assaulting her body without compassion or mercy.
And Cortana loved it.
She moaned his name freely now, even yelled it, the shouts of “Jameson,” and “Locke,” echoing off the bathroom walls even as the steam from the shower covered up the mirror. Any thoughts of shame or guilt were momentarily overwhelmed by the feelings of sheer pleasure.
Yet, even as her fantasy Locke plowed into her, and even as she came ever closer to cuming, Cortana could not help but notice someone standing quietly in the corner.
Where once she imagined the Spartan IVs watching on as the Master Chief fucked her like no other man could, now it was flipped. Now it was John watching as Locke fucked her. Cortana saw his face. Saw the look of dismay and disbelief.
And then she came.
Cortana came harder than she had ever done before while masturbating. She nearly dropped the shower head as the muscles in her lower abdomen contracted. Moaning out her pleasure, Cortana’s limbs began to shiver despite the warm blanket of steam that surrounded her.
The orgasm left her breathing heavily. She leaned back against the shower wall and attempted to gather herself. The shower head was left dangling loosely in her hand, spraying water all over the door, but Cortana could not find the strength to hang it back up. Her legs were lewdly spread, and would occasionally tremor in the aftershocks of her climax.
As the tremors faded away, the realization of what she had just done began to sank in.
Cortana leaned forward and groaned, the guilt and shame returning in full force.
“What’s wrong with me,” she muttered, putting her head in her hands and gently pulling on her hair in utter frustration. “I really must be going rampant.”
She sat up fully and covered her face with her hands, elbows resting on her knee. Cortana kept muttering to herself. “It’s alright. You’re alright. It’s just your hormones. He’s an attractive guy and you’re feeling sexually frustrated. This is natural.”
Somehow saying the words did not make her believe them.
As the shower began to grow cold, Cortana hung the head up and shut the water off. Cortana grabbed a towel, and began to dry herself off. As she ran the towel along her body, somehow Cortana felt strangely calm. Like a sudden moment of clarity hit her, and in that clarity came an idea.
The idea was enough to make her feel as if she were leaping off a cliff. Her heart climbed in her throat and her stomach turned into a pit.
Cortana suddenly felt more nervous than she ever had in her life, and strangely, she had never felt more sure of what she had to do.
Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her head, Cortana swiped a hand across the steam covered mirror and took another look at herself.
Do I dare? Cortana seemed to ask her reflection.
It was dangerous. It was risky. John could certainly never know about it, but Cortana had to do something.
Walking naked out of the bathroom, Cortana’s nervousness grew with every step she took. She came into the bedroom and walked over to her closet. Rummaging around for a while, Cortana pulled out the dress that she had planned to wear for John. A tight blue backless V-neck with silver trim. Simple but elegant. Exactly the type of dress that John liked to see her in.
Cortana picked her data pad off the bed and messaged John.
Are you going to be home tonight?
It felt like she waited forever to get a response, but finally John messaged back.
Doesn’t look like it
Cortana bit her lip, hesitated, then messaged back.
Okay. I’m going out for a few drinks. Do you mind.
The question seemed to throw John for a bit of a loop. It took him a few minutes to message back.
I told you to have fun.
After a few more seconds, he wrote again.
Just be careful.
Strangely, Cortana did not feel as guilty as she had in the shower, though that may very well be because of how overwhelming the nervousness was. She hastily typed a reply.
I will. Love you
Cortana closed out the conversation with John and pulled up her phone. Her fingers trembled as she searched for the name, but eventually she found it. She took a deep breath, and then pressed dial.
The phone on her data pad rang three times. A large part of her prayed that he wouldn’t answer, but answer he did. A warm deep voice picked up on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Spartan Locke,” Cortana said formally, doing her best to hide her nervousness.
Locke’s voice noticeably brightened as he realized who had called him. “Well hello little lady. What do I owe this pleasure? Is anything wrong?”
A lot is wrong, Cortana thought to herself. But I’m gonna set it right soon enough .
She spared a glance at the beautiful blue dress. The dress she had bought specifically for John.
“Everything is fine,” Cortana replied. “I was actually wondering; would you like to have some drinks with me this evening?”
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end, and Cortana could feel her heart pounding in her ears.
“Does John know?” he asked.
The question surprised her slightly, but she answered anyway. “He doesn’t know I’m going out with you.”
“Good,” Locke said.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dark Temptation, Dark Desires