To be perfectly honest, Vulpes had no idea how he'd gotten himself into this.

"Forty-one!" the Courier called out as he pushed himself back up again. He ground his teeth, focusing on the ground in a vain attempt to keep his mind off the weight on his back. Clenching his jaw, he went back down.


Vulpes groaned in agony as he forced himself up, sweat dripping down his face. The burning in his arms, his stomach-everywhere, really-was getting to be unbearable. It didn't help that the Courier was sitting on his back, counting him off. He could feel her gaze burning into the back of his neck, alight with glee.

He couldn't take it anymore. His arms gave way and he collapsed on the ground, breathing hard. Finally, she found the decency to get off him.

"Come on, Vulpes," the Courier-Tess-encouraged him. She lay down next to him, her eyes teasing. "I bet you can't do fifty more."

He raised an eyebrow at her, somehow managing to retain his pride despite his exhausted, sweaty state. "Of course I can."

"I bet you can't do fifty more without your shirt on."

That threw him off. He rolled on his back to get a better look at her, frowning.

"What?" he asked cautiously.

"You heard me."

"You want me to take off my shirt and do fifty more push-ups?" he asked, checking for confirmation.

"Can you?"

Vulpes sighed. "What is this about, Courier?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, because I get turned on by hot sweaty Legionaries doing push-ups," she said sarcastically. "Actually, it's mostly because I disapprove of your treatment of women. And your taste."

He rolled his eyes. "That's really original, coming from a woman," he jibbed. "But really. I don't believe that you're doing this for the sake of all the women in the Mojave."

"Either way, I've got the Mark of Caesar. I can do what I want."

"That's not what the Mark of Caesar does," he snapped, albeit halfheartedly.

"Well, you haven't said anything about this yet," she countered. "I could be chatting up Caesar right now...but frankly, I enjoy this much more."

He caught the drift of her words. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Courier?"

"I will admit that for a sadistic son of a bitch, you are pretty easy on the eyes," she allowed.

He edged closer to her, a little disappointed when she didn't back away. "Have you ever put your imagination to work with that thought in mind?"

Her lip curled up in a half-smile. "Maybe."

He smirked. He surmised as much.

She pursed her lips, thinking. "Are you a gambling man, Vulpes Inculta?"

"Of course."

"Let's make a wager," she said. "I bet you can't do fifty more push-ups without your shirt on. If I win, I'll take the shirt...and your hat."

He smirked. "You don't reap very much, do you? And if you lose?"

Tess shrugged. "Your spoils."

"If you lose..." He smiled, rolling the words on his tongue. "If you lose, I'll take you...and count how many times I can make you scream."

Her resolve faltered for a brief moment as she considered these terms. Vulpes smiled. He enjoyed watching her squirm. After a long deliberation, she nodded.

"Deal." She held out her hand.

"Let's have the shirt, chief."

Tess watched as Vulpes Inculta, the desert fox, pulled off his shirt and tossed it to her. He was truly a man of an impressive caliber, with arms that almost rippled with definition and a pronounced six-pack. She whistled appreciatively as her eyes roved over his naked torso. She caught sight of several scars on his chest and back but decided not to ask.

He dropped to the floor and started his push-ups almost effortlessly, an impressive feat considering that the Courier'd been sitting on his back not three minutes ago.

By the time she'd counted thirty pushups, Tess was no longer really paying attention to the numbers. He was groaning audibly now every time he sank down, and it was strangely tantalizing. She resisted the urge to slip her hands under her pants and take care of the wetness, and hell yeah, there was quite a bit of it. Instead, she leaned back and propped herself on her elbows, settling for silently egging him on, hoping and praying that he would pull through. Or push. …Ew.

"Fifty," Vulpes finished breathlessly, heaving himself into a sitting position.

She was silent for a while, watching quietly as his chest rose and fell with every breath. She knew what was coming, but instead of fear she felt… more aroused than before. He'd starred in a leading role in almost all of her fantasies for a while now, and he was going to fulfill at least one. But still, she felt apprehension. He was Legion, after all. They weren't lauded for their treatment of women.

"Well," she said finally. "I guess you won."

Fast as only a fox could be, Vulpes was on her. Before she could react, he had a knee between her legs, a hand pressing gently at her neck, and the other on her stomach.

"To the victor goes the spoils," he purred.

The Courier gasped softly, her eyes wide, which egged him on as he slipped a hand under her pants.

"No—don't hurt me," she gasped.

"Don't you think I know how to pleasure a woman?" he crooned, running a finger over her wet cunt.

"N-no," she managed. "I…" Her tongue failed her.

"I thought this was what you wanted," he said, using two fingers to gently stroke her clit. She whined and arched into his touch. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Your body seems to suggest so."

"Vulpes," she moaned again.

He spread her wet lips, still rubbing her clit in circles, and gently teased her opening. Almost against her will, Tess bucked her hips into his touch. He alternated between teasing touching, then stroking, then rubbing furiously. She started panting, sounds of ecstasy escaping her lips, and she thought she was going to come right then.

Then he relented. Before she could protest, he withdrew his hand and unbuttoned her pants, sliding them down those glorious legs of hers.

Vulpes was met with almost no resistance when he worked two fingers inside her, slowly pumping in and out with his other hand still supporting the back of her head. He stared at her intently as he fingered her, and the Courier thought she might melt under his gaze. Her breath hitched in her throat and she tilted her head back, staring at him through her eyelashes. She hooked a leg behind his back. He drew her other leg to him, pulling her closer. By now she was in a half-reclined position, her legs spread open with him kneeling between them with his fingers driven deep inside her. He flexed experimentally, searching for something. She gave an aroused sigh.

"Oh, fuck, baby, don't stop."

"I don't intend to," he muttered, driving his fingers deep into her. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing and gently sucking.

She reached up with one hand and anchored it behind his head, drawing his lips to hers. She kissed him, gently at first, but then with fervent need as his rhythm became faster. She was getting close to the edge and they both knew it. Her whimpers grew louder, but she refused to scream. She wasn't going to give him the pleasure quite yet. Instead, supporting herself with the hand on Vulpes' neck, Tess shakily fumbled with the buttons of her shirt with the other hand. It took some doing, but she managed to open her shirt and it fell apart at her sides. She wasn't wearing a bra—she wasn't entirely sure if she'd planned this or if it'd been an accident, but it was getting hard to think and was it just her or was it hot in here?

She edged closer to him, and as she did she could feel his hard-on against her thigh, which made her even wetter than before. She didn't just want his fingers in her anymore. She just wanted—

But any inkling of rational thought was purged from her mind when Vulpes, with one last gentle flex of his fingers, sent her careening into a breathless orgasm. She threw her head back, bucking against his hand, her fingers grasping at his hair. As each wave of pleasure tore through her, she could not contain a soft scream.

"That's once," he murmured.

Fuck. She forgot. He was still counting, even if she wasn't.

He stroked her until the last of her orgasm had run its course before pulling his drenched fingers from her. He held them up, shining with her arousal, before lazily running his tongue up their length, giving her a…well…foxy stare all the time. Her hand slipped from his neck and she lay back on the floor, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes.

She reached out to him. "Come on, Vulpes," she coaxed him. "To the victor goes the spoils."

He grinned wolfishly. "You are a demanding woman, Courier," he said, even though he was already removing the remaining of his clothing and tossing it on the floor beside him. "First you ask me for fifty push-ups…" He rose up over her, his face inches from hers. "And now you're asking me for…push-downs?" Vulpes chuckled. "Well played."

"Well," she breathed, "It's good for you, isn't it?"

His lips were an inch from her neck. "The push-ups, or this?"

She hummed appreciatively when his lips made contact. "I'd say both." Her hands snaked up to his biceps, running smoothly down his arms slick with sweat. "Come on, you goddamn fox."

He grunted in agreement and became dimly aware of her pulling her leg along his side, resting it on his back. He needed no more encouragement. With his lips on her throat and gently sucking, he entered her.

She gave a breathy moan and arched up towards him, her hands grasping at his shoulders. He was big—why should she have expected any different?—but not enough that it was painful. Instead, he filled her in ways that she'd never quite been filled before. In her limited sexual experience, she had never had something like this, and she loved every moment of it. It was almost better than the sight of a sweaty and panting Vulpes, his arms on either side of her head, staring into her eyes with a fierce, blazing intensity. Almost.

"You must not do this often," he remarked in a husky voice. "You're so…tight."

Little do you realize that I fucked the guy you've got held hostage in Caesar's tent just last night, she thought. But she decided to keep that little tidbit to herself. All other thoughts were wiped from her mind when he started thrusting.

He went slowly at first, deep movements that coaxed ecstatic moans with every thrust. His chest was inches from hers, and they were so close that she could no longer figure out whether the sweat on her breasts was his or hers. She didn't care, anyway. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled him down for a hot, wet kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. Between the fucking, the closeness, and the proximity, Tess wasn't completely convinced that she wasn't having some sort of extremely vivid fantasy. Screw it, she thought. Her hands traveled lower down his back and her fingers traced the outline of an old scar. There were a lot of those, she realized. Legion training must really be brutal.

As he thrusted, Vulpes' eyes flicked downward to her breasts. To be perfectly explicit about it, she really did have a nice pair. They were just the right size, not too big but not too small either, and they were soft—a delightful contrast to her otherwise rather muscular body. He lowered his head to them, kissing softly between her breasts before moving to her nipples, gently sucking and biting.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," she gasped, running her fingers through his close-cropped hair. He slid his hands under her shoulders and lifted her a few inches off the ground, his mouth still on her breasts. Tess was lost in the bliss, eyes closed, and she knew she was going to come soon, but then he ground (no pun intended) to a halt. Slowly, he pulled out. She frowned, holding back a whimper of dismay.

"What?" she asked.

"I thought I might grant you the upper hand," he said with a coy smile. She didn't need telling twice. The Courier straddled him, grinding into his lab with her hands anchored on his sweaty chest. He groaned audibly, hands reaching up to grab her hips. She gave him a sly look.

"That's a pretty gentlemanly move for a man like you," she teased, still rocking her hips slowly. He smirked despite it all.

"Don't be coy, Courier," he replied with equal slyness in his voice. "It doesn't take a genius to know that you want to ride me like a pony."

She laughed and manipulated him under her before sliding onto his cock. She leaned forward, her lips an inch from her ear as she slid up and down his length.

"Vulpes…" she groaned.

"Yes, my dear?"

"What the fuck is a pony?"

"It's…" He was momentarily lost for words, but then he remembered that she was a profligate and sighed. "I'll tell you later," he said. She rolled her eyes and pulled away from him, still straddling him in an upright position. She started moving against him, small movements that barely jarred him but felt ecstatic nonetheless. She slid her shirt from her shoulders. Her hands moved to her breasts and she ran her hands over them seductively, giving him a show. If anything it just made him harder, and he thrust up into her.

Her eyelids fluttered as she rode him, gasping and moaning in ecstasy. She could feel the familiar heat building between her legs and the tightening of her core and she knew that she was reaching her peak. A hand slid between her legs just as she came, and she cried out as the orgasm tore through her.

Vulpes groaned beneath her but he didn't miss the chance to remind her, "That's twice."

"Stop…counting," she groaned in response. "Just fuck me, dammit."

He didn't reply, just let out another moan as he felt her clenching around him rhythmically. He was so close. He'd never had a woman who made him feel like this, flush all over with ecstasy surging through his veins. Almost all the women he'd ever taken had screamed and begged for mercy—a disappointment, to be perfectly frank, and not very arousing. But not her, not the Courier. There was a certain sense of achievement to being able to touch her and rouse a cry of delight from her and he wanted to do it again before he came.

Tess screamed again—that would be three times—when he started thrusting into her hard and fast. She could no longer find words as he fucked her, catching herself on her hands anchored on his chest. Her hair, once in a loose bun on her head, was now a mess, luscious brown locks spilling around her face. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled, not enough to be vicious but enough for it to hurt. She whimpered a little but there was no denying the inevitable third orgasm already tearing through her body.

When Vulpes came she was already spent, all thought purged from her mind. She fell forward and landed with her hands on either side of his head. Breathing hard, she captured his mouth with a crushing, hungry kiss. Their tongues entwined, fiercely battling for the upper hand, until finally he broke away, gasping for breath.

Tess flopped on the ground beside him, sweating and panting. She caught his eye somehow and she was unable to look away. Neither was he. Somewhere, an unspoken boundary had been crossed and they were now in uncharted territory, strange waters that neither of them could bring themselves to recognize.

She looked away, breaking the spell, and reached for her shirt. With shaking hands, she buttoned it and pulled her panties to her, sliding them up her legs. Vulpes felt a pang when she slid the pants on. Finally, she stood up and handed him his shirt.

"Well," he said at last.

Tess shrugged. "You're a hell of a lay, Vulpes Inculta."

He cracked a smile. "I do my best."

She chuckled, catching the unintended pun in his words. She stood up and dusted herself off. For the first time in his life, Vulpes found himself looking up at a woman rather than down. It was an odd feeling, but one he didn't resent. Oddly enough.

Then she was gone, leaving him alone in the tent. He sighed and reached for his clothes before lying back on a bedroll and struggling to confront an assault of confused feelings.