Calamity Jesse & Wild Ben Merasska Presents: A Wild Night On Canto Bight

She let him deal out both of the cards before she took them and flipped them up, giving the boy a haughty look over the tops before allowing her eyes to flick down to look at the cards in her hands. The first thing that jumped out were matching suits. Flasks. And then the sinking realization as she recognized the two cards as the Mistress and Master.

"Well ain't it just your lucky day. Bombed out." She tossed the cards down in a fit and grabbed the front of her shirt. There were plenty of other layers to lose first. Gunbelt. Boots. However, she knew this was a surefire way to get Ben more in to the spirit of the thing. She took one button off at a time, while looking Ben straight in the eye. His vision waivered for a moment, moving upward to look at her hat in a pleading sort of way. How cute, for him to think that was an option.

"The hat stays on."

The last of the buttons came free and the starchy white blouse was pulled free tossed into the corridor to land on top of the previously discarded vest. She was starting to regret her decision as the creeping cool of space began to attack her newly exposed skin, but she didn't let it show on her face. Besides, if embarrassment could generate heat than those red cheeks would keep her plenty warm. Ben seemed completely at odds with the sight of the black and red, lacy, padded, and heavily supportive arrangement she had on. As he should be. The damn thing cost more than the rest of her outfit, might as well get to gawkin.

"My turn." She ripped the deck out of his hands, jarring him back from whatever world he'd let his mind escape to and began shuffling the cards back into the deck before dealing out two again. "Let's try to have a real round this time."

Moderation. Seven of Staves. It was a start, and maybe she could build it into a good hand.

He glanced over at the chronometer. Not good. They'd only been playing for... two minutes?!

He glanced over to Jesse and her... lacyness... and that wide brimmed hat that would be staying on...

He took a look at his card and blanched. He couldn't help it. How'd he get the Star? Jesse didn't seem to be too happy with her first card, but she had a much better gambling face than he did. She dealt his second card. His eyes bugged out.

The face of the Demise card seemingly stared at him as hungrily as Jesse did.

"I, uh... I... uh..." he flipped his cards.

This hand was garbage, and the look on Ben's face was saying mighty clear that he'd drawn something awful pleasant. She was going to need something to contest if'n she was going to even get his shirt off before her knickers hit the floor. Drawing a card from the top of the deck she flipped it up into her hand to reveal... the Master of Sabers. Good, but not good enough. Ben was holding with what he had. That made her all the more worried. Drawing another card she hoped for the best but luck wasn't exactly her strong suit. She musta had something saved in the tank because the card in her hand was the Master of Coins!

23!

"Gotcha. Sabacc!" She flipped her cards and looked overly smugly at Ben's hand, only to see the inverse point total looking back. "Come on Merasska. Your luck can't last forever." She exhaled loudly and made a big show of taking a big breath by pushing her chest out, all the while pulling her gun belt free and dropping it whole hog to the ground.

"Deal 'em out. Only so much space between us and Canto Bight, and I'm fixin' to win."

Jesse was looking annoyed, and Ben Merasska knew an annoyed Jesse was possibly more dangerous than an angry one; an annoyed Jesse could stew on herself until she'd contrived all sorts of nasty ways of revenging herself, while she usually just shot or killed by shooting the object of her anger.

He dealt out the cards. Balance, and of all things an Eleven of Coins. He glanced up to take stock of Jesse's own position.

Canto Bight felt like it was coming on quick. Jesse rushed the deal and immediately began grabbing more cards to cover the negatives in her hands until the two of them ran together at the head and she finally tossed her cards down in a hard won victory. It felt earned this time. What a round. So many draws. She had to admit, that she was afraid he was going to toss down a Fool's Gambit there at the end and take it all from her. Even Merasska couldn't be that lucky. Right?

"Hurry on up there. I don't want to be the only one freezing in their unmentionables. You've got a lot to lose still, boy. Let's get you there."

Pants pants pants please! I swear I'm gonna see them hams today...

Ben sighed and pulled off his shirt, without nearly any of the pageantry that Jesse had put into her own clothing's removal. Thankfully he'd worn his sleeveless undershirt, though from the look on Jesse's face she wasn't nearly as thankful. Almost immediately he felt the bite of chilled recycled atmosphere on his skin and took a drink of the cheap stuff she'd pulled out for celebrating.

It burned down, but warmed up his gut some, so it was something. How long until Cantonica? Ugh. At this rate, they'd finish the game before they arrived, and Jesse'd probably finish him.

He kept his eyes on her hands (for the most part) while she shuffled the deck, but she was looking a bit more serious now. He blanched again. If she started getting really competitive he might not even last to the end of the game!

"S'been a while since I've slept in an actual bed," he admitted. "Aside from some stiff cot with a thin blanket. A hotel stay sounds nice about now."

"Hotel? You're dreamin' too small. We are gonna get the biggest, ritziest suite at the most expensive place in the city. I deserve that much, and I ain't settlin' for less."

If they left Canto Bight with anything more than nothing in their pockets than this whole trip was for nothing. Sure, she could use the credits further down the road but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. You can't even land in Canto Bight without an invitation from the city or a patron. A day like this will probably never shine on the likes of them ever again. It was a mighty step up from all those years ago, back when little Delores was busy darning socks and patching knees, all the while looking up and knowing there was more out there, that she deserved more. This was it. The culmination of a dream, and she'd be damned if she was going to let Ben get in the way of getting what she wanted.

And right now he WAS what she wanted.

---A HALF HOUR LATER---

The hands were coming in hard now. They were both playing to win and they were rapidly running out of garments to lose. The last hand had left them both in only their undergarments, much to Jesse's infuriation. The man still had that ratty undershirt on. Come on, give a gal an appetizer for the meal that was to come. Her own underthings left very little to the imagination. There was more material and fabric sitting on her head than on what she had on the rest of her body.

"Deal 'em up Merasska. I'll 'freshen up our drinks."

Grabbing their empty glasses she headed back down the corridor, being sure to walk on the pads of her feet so that her assets were properly raised and presented. If you're gonna give a show might as well make it the best one. The glasses were filled back up, but this time with a considerable more alcohol than in the previous glasses. Just a little mint to hide the flavor. When they got to Canto Bight they would have to invest in some proper top shelf liquor. That shit probably tastes like rainbows and vibroblades.

Heading back into the cockpit she resumed her place against the wall and handed off the drink, chugging down half of the glass herself before setting it down and taking her cards. Decent hand. Close to bombing but not so close that he couldn't beat her with a decent hand of his own. Damn. This was going to be pushing her luck. There was no other way. This was it. Do or die. She couldn't let him win now. She needed to win. She wanted to win. Taking another card she slipped it into her hand, and there was no stopping the krayt smile that spread across her face. Flipping them over she stuck her tongue out into the corner of her mouth and pulled her hat back on her head.

"Pure Sabacc! Ha!"

Damn that walk. Damn it.

Jesse's last few hands were absolutely killer, and somehow, somehow, he'd barely managed to keep his innocence intact by properly losing a few hands. But now, all he had left were his thermals and his undershirt, and the thermals did nothing to hide what that walk did. His plan, if one could call it a plan, was actually coming off pretty nicely; stall the game as long as possible, win and lose at the right times to keep things just about even, and get stupid drunk enough that he could pass out and be useless to her perverted and debauched designs.

The drunkenness part wasn't quite as along, as he was still reacting quite strongly.

"Pure Sabacc!" she crowed. Ben glanced down at her cards (yes, the cards!) and then back up at her face. She had that nexu smile going, but also only that lacy bustier-thing and a set of knickers that couldn't be used to blow one's nose. He glanced at the chronometer, and then back at her, where her face was getting steadily more confident.

"Wait!" he said. "Ain't pure sabacc where you get it on the first two cards? It's just sabacc otherwise, right?" The amusement drained from her face and she leveled him with a flat look. "I'm serious! Ain't there a rule card in that box?"

Jesse reached over and plucked his cards from his hands. Well, shit.

"Don't get all pedantic on me, Merasska." She replied angrily as he tried to defend his ever weakening position, holding his cards up like a shield until she pulled those from his hand. She was half tempted to grab him by the collar of his undershirt and slap some sense into him. If he kept fighting back like this she would push him down and rip the losers clothes off him herself. Grabbing the deck she prepared to slip all the cards back in when she noticed the three he had been holding. The Fool, One of Stave, Two of Staves.

"What kind of shit is this? A Fool's Array? You've got to be shittin' me!" The cards became projectiles tossed back at his chest to flutter off into the corners of the cockpit. Her hand raised in a fist, every instinct telling her to be the sore loser she wanted to be, to hit him in the face for having the GALL to play such a hand, to rain on her parade, to take from her what she deserved. She'd take it from him, one way or another... and then her hand softened and her smile came back. It was not a friendly smile.

Taking advantage of the recoiling flinch he was in, hands up, ready for a blow, she instead slipped straight on to his lap, straddling her legs around his waist and the sides of the chair.

"Oh no, it looks like I've done lost, Ben. I just don't know which bit to take off next. Maybe you can help me? I'm much too cold and drunk to do it myself..." She asked coyly, taking a suddenly more innocent demeanor as she grabbed his arms and forced his hands around her, pressing his fingertips toward the center of her back where the singular clasp under considerable strain sat ready to spring open with little provocation.

Danger! Danger, Ben Merasska! DANGER!

With Jesse pinning him to the seat, he had absolutely zero avenues of escape. He'd been planning on folding that hand and hopefully dragging the next one or two out, but her discovery and the final loss of patience had put paid to that plan. And now here he was, with a beautiful woman in his lap, a beautiful woman asking for his help in taking off the last of her clothing, and all he could think was:

'I'd better give her the best orgasms of her life, or she'll space me the second we get into orbit.'

With that thought, he found the clasps of her bustier, and in the space of a second it was off her and in his hands. Her nipples hardened in the chilled air, right in front of his eyes, but he didn't move. His thoughts were moving parsecs, trying to figure out how to play this so that she wouldn't kill him after; if he was too good, or tried too hard, he wouldn't put it past her to kill him or something else just so that no one else would get what she'd got. If he were bad, she'd probably kill him just on principle.

If he could play himself off as so fearful and pathetic that it wouldn't be worth even playing with him—yeah no, she'd just lowered her weight onto him and felt his wooden willy through the thermals, and there was that nexu-smile again. She'd get her enjoyment from him regardless now. He'd have to play it by ear, making sure she took enough of the lead to feel comfortable, but keeping enough that she felt there was more for her to try and grab.

Why was her body so damn perky?

"So, uh, we still have a couple more hands to play?" he breathed, glancing down at the cards that littered the cockpit.

"It don't feel like little Ben wants to play cards no more."

Jesse's reply came with a side helping of hip grinding, as she dragged herself across his lap back and forth. She tried to make it look as smooth and easy a motion as possible, but truth be told she was having a hard time reaching the ground with her feet for the necessary leverage. Her grasp on his shoulder and arm for balance was becoming increasingly tight as he continued to fight back. His eyes were moving around the cockpit like he was just looking for something else to do. Her sickly sweet voice was developing a durasteel core at it's center as began to develop a hard edge from the attempts at misdirection.

"I reckon we can find something more fun to play with... me."

She slunk her body forward, digging the hard metal piercings into what little covered his chest. She was committed now to this little defenseless girl routine. It was what usually worked on the kind of men she found in her life that were far too intimidated by her actual personality. The faux vulnerability was the go to trick, and it was not looking too successful in this moment. It cost a lot of credits to look this good, so he better look while he still had eyes!

"Don'tcha want to find where else I might have piercings?"

Her hands turned into talons grapping his body and pulling him in closer, bumping his forehead into the brim of her hat.

"Whatcha say, Pilot-Boy? You ready to fly?"

"Muaharfm," Ben answered, his voice warbling. "I mean..."

Her hand reached down, and his voice pitched up.

"I mean..."

She leaned in closer, her hand gripping his prick.

"We're already flying, technically."

She squeezed, prompting him to hold onto her, squeezing right back as she ground against even more fervently.

"Ah! Yes! I'm, I'm ready! Ready to fly!"

Her hand suddenly released his shoulder and grabbed him by the throat instead, gripping tightly to the sides of his throat rather than cutting off his oxygen at the front. With it she forced him up against the back of his chair. The sweet voice was gone.

"That won't so hard now was it?"

Using the very tips of her toes she lifted herself up off his lap just enough that her other hand could pull down what was left of his sweet innocence enough to let her have access to what was barely hiding beneath. If the poor boy got any harder he'd put a hole through his pants.

"I got only one rule, Merasska. You better hurt me, and I'll hurt you."

She let her fingernails dig into the sides of his throat for emphasis as she cocked back her hat on her head so that it would stop bumping off his forehead every time she looked down. He had a weird, fearful look in his eye, but it kept glancing up at the hat.

"I told'ja. The hat stays on."

And with that she pulled what little undergarments she had left to the side, let the poor boy get a peak of the matching jewelry, and then with some careful fidgeting due to the low clearance, maneuvered Ben's CR90 straight into her docking bay; and pushed down. A moan bubbled up from somewhere in her guts before she even knew it was there. Her eyes closed for only a moment, to soak in the feeling, but then they snapped back open, red razorblades looking back into his. Her hand didn't loosen on his throat for a second. Her other hand found his shoulder for leverage, and her nails dug into the flesh looking for bone.

Oh man. Oh man. Jesse was excited, if that wet heat meant anything. And of course she's into pain. Of course. His face was probably turning red and there was a sharp stinging on his shoulder, and all he wanted to was breathe.

"You better hurt me, and I'll hurt you," she said, and Ben grimaced.

So he pulled her down onto him, lifted up, and pulled her right back down, as hard and violently as he could. For good measure he planted his feet on the floor, giving him a bit more leverage in pumping Jesse like she was a shotgun. It probably didn't hurt, but Ben wasn't the kind of guy to purposefully hurt someone, especially during sex, though Jesse would definitely end up changing at least one part of that statement.

He was getting into the spirit of the thing but there was just something missing that nagged in the back of her mind. It was like his spirit just wasn't quite into it no matter what his body said. She needed him to find that spark, and fast.

"I said hurt me!" Her hand released his throat and slapped him across the face. The blow came much softer than she intended. Soft enough to sting but not hard enough to cause any real damage.

"Like this." Grabbing one of his hands she brought it to her breast and wrapped his fingers tightly around her nipple and pressed them down upon the soft protruding flesh; squishing it into the metal core passing through it. The painful pleasure was just right, and it spurred her own body into action as she began pivoting her hips forward, more in tandem with his own movements, trying to find that matching rhythm; and then lifting herself higher at the peaks so that she had more space to fall, slamming her body down as hard as she could with each drop. Trying to scratch that hot itch deep inside. It was only getting hotter.

Sex with Jesse was like, well, pretty much anything else with Jesse; wild, painful, and dangerous. All three of those things Ben Merasska tended to avoid in his life, only to have to live through them regardless. The slap did little but jar him, and she was ever so kind as to show him just how she liked to be hurt. Pain and pleasure were twined together for this woman, and it was erotic and terrifying.

He squeezed down on her nipple again, twisting a little bit this time while driving his hips up. Jesse let him know just how much she liked that with another wild smile and a moan that made his toes curl and slamming right back down on him, the wet meaty slap of their bodies crashing together cracking sharply in the cockpit.

Now he was getting in to it! The less she had to direct him the more she could focus on herself; managing breathing, keeping her legs and hips moving, and focusing on the pleasure. The two points of stimulation was good. It gave her something to latch on to. The cockpit faded away into the background as the heat in her belly increased. Clamping one hand over her mouth so he couldn't say anything to deflate the moment, she began slamming even harder, pivoting her hips as much as she could to take every inch of pleasure this position afforded. Almost there. Her eyes closed and she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his.

Jesse landed hard one more time and stopped as her body tensed together and her legs became unresponsive as they tightened around the chair. Her fingernails dug into her shoulder as she tried desperately to keep the moan inside but instead let out of a squeak as all her walls came flooding down for a moment... and then she picked right back up where she left off; her movements shaky and disorganized now but powering back up to full capacity with every rise and fall.

"Don'tchu quit on me now. That's just one, partner. I got nine more to go before you blow."

"Nine?!" he gasped, his incredulity overwhelming his terror for a brief moment. "Stars, woman! Please tell me you won't be choking me the whole time. I'm going to need to breathe!"

Foregoing any real answer from her, he placed his hands on her ass and gripped firmly. He stood, surprising himself with how easily he held Jesse up, but after a couple seconds he was only all to aware that Jesse was a real woman and not a stick figure. Thankfully, his idea was not to embarrass himself with an attempt at standing sex, but to turn around and set Jesse on the pilot's seat with him slightly over her, and to do it quick enough while she was still riding that high that she wouldn't try too hard to get back over him.

"Now, uh, this ride'll get bumpy, but don't strap yourself in, right? And I'd appreciate the copilot helping me out with directions." With that, he pushed the seat so that it tilted back as far as it could go, and started thrusting, grunting as his hips smashed her deeper into the seat.

The world suddenly fell apart underneath her fingertips. One moment she was riding the warm buzz of satisfaction and the next she was floating through the air, not entirely sure for a moment where she was, and only knowing that Ben was there with her. Like two souls lost in the churn. And then she was back down to reality, but not in the same form she left it. Before she was riding high on top of her magnificent steed, a conqueror; and now she was on her back, the damsel.

Jesse did not like this change. The loss of her agency. To be the one acted upon instead of the actor. He stripped away her power and she wanted it back. Hands curled into fists she was ready to take it back, and then the hammer dropped and she could only gasp in surprise. It hit again. It was so deep, this angle. There were words spoken, coming out of his dumb face, but she couldn't hear them. She felt shell shocked. The sound was muffled. Her face hardened, eyes narrowing. She wanted to reach out and get him, but he was angled away now. If only he had a collar to grab, to reestablish dominance.

"You call that fuckin', flyboy?" She said, trying to keep her voice even as it wavered with each thrust. Grabbing the backs of her knees she pulled her legs down lower, closer to her body, and further out of his way, giving him complete and unobstructed access. "Come on, hurt me. I want to feel it in my guts."

Ben didn't say anything, just lifted his hips until he was almost out, and then letting his weight fall back down onto her. At least she seemed to be enjoying this, which not only made him feel good for making her feel good, but also for the real fact that the better he made her feel, the more likely she wouldn't kill him out of annoyance or because it would make things easier for her.

He continued, his thrusts not coming especially fast, but each one carrying his full weight behind it. Each time he crashed down on her, it felt like she was getting wetter and wetter, and stars and skies that noise coming from her was just... wait.

He stopped and looked up and around. Was that the ship or him?

With a jolt the ship came out of hyperspace, Cantonica looming before them, a leviathan in space, and Ben yelped as he slipped and fell onto the cockpit floor from the sudden shift in momentum the inertial dampeners couldn't compensate for.

"Ah," he groaned. "And that's why we don't bone in the cockpit everyone. Not while actually flying a starship, anyway."