Pt. 06: Winner Takes All

Part 6 -- Winner Takes All

Chapter 1: Paint Corral

"This has been the longest week ever," Carla said, keeping her eyes on the road.

Mike grinned at her from the passenger seat. "Of course it has. I mean, you've been looking forward to a date with me. Stands to reason it would feel like forever."

She laughed. "Yeah, that's the only reason. The fact that I did double shifts both Wednesday and yesterday has nothing to do with it."

Carla had picked him up at nine. He wore his oldest, most tattered pair of jeans and an old hoodie, knowing they'd probably get splattered with paint. Carla was in a similar outfit, but he didn't think it made her look any less attractive. He smiled. "Yeah, that could also explain it. How come you work so much?"

"The usual, you know. Hospital's short on staff, and we residents pick up the slack. The attendings work more regular hours. And it's not even interesting stuff, you know? Don't get me wrong, I don't want a lot of kids dying from exotic diseases, but after the umpteenth Karen of the day demanding to talk to a 'real' doctor 'cause she's convinced her kid's cold is covid, I get a little fed up." She sighed, then chuckled. "I used to watch Grey's Anatomy and ER when I was in high school, but I'm starting to believe they weren't entirely accurate."

Mike laughed. "Tell me about it. I watched a couple of porn films growing up. Turns out those weren't entirely accurate either."

Carla lifted an eyebrow and glanced over at him before turning her attention back to the road. "A couple?"

"Uh, well, maybe a little more." He laughed. "Probably a lot more. But around average, you know? Like most teenagers. I wasn't some 'porn addict' or anything."

"Good to know." She smiled. "How about you? How was your week?"

"Pretty good. Did an action film yesterday."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Not a parody exactly, more like a mashup of all kinds of blockbuster action films. You know, Die Hard, Mission Impossible, that kind of thing. This guy had planted a bomb somewhere, and Jade Juggs had to 'torture' him to get the info out of him."

Carla snorted. "And by 'torture', you mean..." She let it hang.

"You know it. In the la-la land of porn, the best way to get a guy to talk is to have some chick suck him off. But hey, it worked, thousands of lives saved. A little gratitude might be in order."

She laughed. "Tell Jade we all appreciate her dedication. Was that the whole film?"

"No, not by far. Actually, it was pretty fun. I rigged the stage to look like the roof of a skyscraper, and Jade and Hank were fighting and shooting at each other. Of course, at one point Hank yanked off her shirt, but apart from that, it was almost like a 'real' film. Harry was very pleased."

"Your boss? The 'visionary' porn director?"

"The man, the myth, the legend," he said with a grin. "He's a bit set in his ways, but I like him. He tries to do films like they did back in the eighties, with plots and dialogue. Of course, the dialogue is cheesy and the plots aren't complicated, but there's some kind of story, not just sex."

"And this time, there was shooting and hiding." She grinned quickly at him before turning back to the road. "You think it'll give you an edge today?"

He chuckled. "Not likely. Most of the time, we just tried to make Jade look as sexy as possible, so tactics took a back seat."

"Ah, here we are," Carla said as she turned off the road and followed a short gravel drive toward a low wooden clubhouse. Several cars were already parked outside.

Mike climbed out and looked around. Beyond the clubhouse, a high net enclosed a sprawling field dotted with wooden sheds and barricades, stacks of tires, raised platforms and a small grove of trees. Plenty of places to hide or stage an ambush from.

Above the clubhouse door, a cartoon cowboy aimed a paintball gun beneath the words PAINT CORRAL.

"Classy," Mike said.

"I knew you'd like it."

Inside, maybe twenty people were milling around the reception area. Mike picked out what looked like a family of four, a group of guys about their age, and what was clearly a bachelorette party. The guys were all fit, clean-cut and, in Mike's mind, suspiciously well-groomed. He mentally labeled them the Chads. The women wore matching pink sweatshirts with TEAM JESSICA printed across the front, while the bride-to-be wore a cheap rhinestone tiara. Behind a long counter, several employees were laying out masks, gloves and paintball guns.

They had barely joined the crowd when one of the employees stepped out from behind the counter and raised his voice.

"All right, everyone! Gather around and we'll do a quick briefing."

The chatter died down as people gathered around him.

"I'm Ted, and I'll be your host and referee today. We'll be playing three rounds. First one's a short warm-up. We'll split you into two teams, red and blue. Every hit scores a point for the other team, and if you're hit, you sit out for two minutes before you're back in."

He paused, looking around the group to make sure everyone was following.

"Second round, things get a little more serious. You get hit, you're out for good. No points, no respawns. Same teams, first team to eliminate the other one wins."

A few people nodded.

"And finally, we'll find out who's the toughest son of a gun out there. Battle Royale. Every man for himself. Last man standing." He glanced toward the bachelorette party. "Or last woman, of course."

That earned a few laughs from the women, along with some looks toward the group of guys. Mike smiled to himself. The way Ted talked reminded him a little of Harry. Mike saw a bunch of people out for a good time. Ted apparently saw hardened gladiators, here to fight for glory.

"No teams this time. Make whatever alliances you want, break whatever alliances you want. Once you're hit, you're out. Last warrior without paint on them wins and gets to call themselves Paint Corral Champion."

Mike leaned closer, lowering his voice. "If I win, you'll call me that for a month, deal?"

Carla grinned at him. "Is that really the prize you want if you win? Ooh, the ambition."

"Uh, we'll talk terms after the warm-up."

The crowd lined up to get their gear, the staff helping some with their masks and handing each player a numbered vest to pull on over their clothes. When everyone was ready, Ted had them follow him to the arena. "Blue team, head for the blue flag." He pointed to a wooden platform with a blue flag on a pole, about seventy yards away. "Red, you go that way." He indicated a similar platform, the same distance in the other direction.

Mike and Carla ended up on the blue team with the Chads, while the family and Team Jessica joined red. When everyone was in position on their platforms, Ted continued, shouting so all could hear. "When I give the signal, the game is on. For this round, just have fun. Get to know the field. Practice your aim. All ready?"

The bachelorette party at the red platform started cheering, all geared up for battle. The guys with Mike and Carla laughed and started shouting back.

Ted pulled out a whistle and raised it to his lips. "Ready... set..."

He blew his whistle.

Chapter 2: The Prize

The first kill of the day went to a girl on Team Jessica. When Ted blew his whistle, the guys on Mike and Carla's team stormed ahead, with no thought of safety or cover. The girls on the red platform all headed for a nearby wall, except one. The last girl hesitated for a moment before she raised her gun, firing a burst of shots at the horde coming her way. One of the paintballs hit a guy straight in the visor. He cursed and yelled as Ted called his number. "Player 17, you're out. Two minutes on the bench." The girl who had made the shot whooped, then turned to run for cover only to get hit in the back. "Shit!" she cried as Ted called her to the bench.

Mike had never played paintball before, but if this was anything like real war, he was glad he'd never joined the army. There was chaos, carnage and confusion. No plan, no strategy. He and Carla had found cover behind a small outhouse, trying to get the attention of two of the Chads who were crouching behind a pile of tires nearby.

"Yo, guys," Mike shouted. "Over here."

One of the guys turned his way. "What?"

"Let's try and flank them," Mike shouted. "You go left, we go r..."

He was interrupted by a shot that hit him in his right shoulder. The impact was more painful than he'd expected. "Fuck!" he yelled as the two guys frantically looked around, trying to see where the shooter might be.

"Player 9, bench, two minutes," Ted shouted, looking at Mike. Carla looked at him, crouching lower. "Oh, Mike, that sucks," she said, but her grin didn't match her sympathetic words.

He walked to the bench, rubbing the spot, and a staffer handed him a digital timer, already counting down from two minutes. "When it beeps, get out there. Restock ammo if you need to." He hadn't fired more than fifteen shots or so, so he watched the game instead.

Carla was deadly.

She was constantly on the move, darting from one hiding place to the next, keeping low and never staying exposed for long. Whenever she reached cover, she'd pause and scan the field, looking for targets. Twice Mike saw her spot someone, take careful aim, and fire a single shot. Both times, Ted called someone out moments later.

Mike smiled. Going head-to-head with Carla would be a real challenge, prize or no prize.

She was crawling from her latest hiding place now, trying to reach another group of blue players. She made it, and they huddled together, Carla apparently trying to get them to work together on some plan. Her hair was stuffed under a hairnet, her face hidden behind a visor, and she was wearing old jeans and a black sweatshirt, but he thought she looked spectacular.

Mike never made it back to the field. The round ended before his time was up, and all the players gathered around Ted. They had all been quiet and attentive before the first battle. Now they were loud and boisterous. Calls of "I'll get you next time" and "Fuckin' awesome" filled the room, and Ted had to shout to get them to settle down.

"Great start," he called. "You're getting it. Red team took it, though. 19 points to 14." Team Jessica cheered, along with the family Mike figured was there for a birthday. The guys on Mike's team booed. "But this was just the warm-up," Ted continued. "Now the real fun starts." The crowd got quieter. Now it was for real. "We'll keep the same teams. You've gotten warmed up, learned a few tricks. Now you need to play the long game. Don't get shot right away." He looked at the guy who'd gotten hit first after charging off the platform. "This isn't Rambo. Storming over flat ground, no cover? Best way to get hit." He grinned. "And this time, there's no coming back."

The battle was more intense, and more organized this time. Three of the guys from Mike and Carla's team were out, but the red team fared worse. The whole birthday family was out, and just four members of Team Jessica remained. They had entrenched themselves in a large, roofless shed near the edge of the playing area. The shed had a doorway in the front and an open window in the back, but no openings along either side. Two of the girls had taken up positions in the doorway, guarding the field, while the two others were in the window on the opposite wall. The blue team was trying to figure out how to flush them out or take them out while they were still inside.

"There's no roof on the shed," one of the guys said. "They can only see us from the front or back. If we approach from the sides, we could climb up and shoot down at them."

"It's too high up," Mike said. He scanned the nearby area, trying to find something they could stand on. "And no ladders or anything to climb on."

Carla looked at the shed, then at Mike. "Wait. You could lift me up." She turned to the other guys. "You guys give us cover, Mike and I approach from the side." She looked at Mike. "You hoist me up and I'll get them from above before they figure out where the shots are coming from." The guys nodded, checking their ammo.

Mike and Carla approached the shed, keeping as low as they could. The Chads gave covering fire, drawing the attention of the girls in the shed. They got to the shed and studied the wall. "It's tall," Mike said, looking doubtful.

"Shhh," Carla said, putting a finger over her lips. "Fold your hands," she whispered. "I'll put my foot in and you lift me up."

Mike nodded, not sure it would be quite as simple as Carla seemed to think, but it was the only plan they had. "Okay," he said. He waved to the guys they'd left behind, signaling for them to intensify their fire. "On three. One, two, three!"

On three, he lifted her while she kicked off with her other foot and reached up with her free hand. It was easier than he'd feared, and she got one hand over the wall, her rifle in the other. He crouched lower so she could get a foot onto his shoulder, then slowly rose. Her entire upper body was over the wall. Mike tried to stand as still as he could, but he risked a glance up at Carla. She looked down into the shed and pointed her rifle. She took three deep breaths, then let death rain down on the remaining bachelorettes. A rapid burst of shots, shouts and curses from inside the shed, then Ted's whistle sounded.

"Game over, blue team wins!"

During the last break, the crowd had been loud and boisterous. Now, many were quiet and focused. No teams this time. Everyone was on their own. Carla leaned closer, whispering to him. "There can be only one."

He grinned at her. "You've seen Highlander?"

She scoffed. "What do you take me for? Of course I have."

Some of the guys and bachelorettes who'd been eliminated early in the previous round had apparently spent the time socializing. Now the girls were flirting outrageously with the guys. Mike grinned a little, thinking back to Ted's briefing. He suspected the girls were making alliances, but felt pretty sure they wouldn't hesitate to break them at the first opportunity.

Ted blew his whistle, getting their attention. "All right," he said. "This is it. The big one, where we find out who's got what it takes." He looked from face to face, as if assessing them. "There are no teams this round, and you won't start at the platforms. You'll see numbered signs around the perimeter of the field. Find the one matching your player number and wait there for my whistle. When I blow, you go." He grinned, clearly pleased with his little rhyme. "When you're eliminated, get back here. Grab a drink and cheer on your favorite." He indicated a cooler with cans of soft drinks. "Any questions?"

One of Team Jessica raised her hand. "Even if there aren't any teams, we don't have to shoot at everybody, right?" She smiled sweetly over at one of the guys.

"Nope, alliances are part of the game." Ted followed her gaze to the guy, then looked back at her and grinned. "And I'm sure a resourceful player can find ways to convince an enemy that he'd rather be an ally."

With no more questions, the players moved to their designated places. Mike had a bachelorette about thirty yards away on either side of him. He spotted Carla almost directly across the field, maybe a couple hundred yards away. Good, he wouldn't have to deal with her straight away. He looked at the two girls next to him. One of them was the one with the question, and she had already established visual contact with the guy she'd been flirting with. She waved and smiled at him. As Mike watched, the girl winked and made an unmistakably suggestive gesture with her hand near her mouth. He grinned. She wouldn't have to worry about that guy at least.

When Ted blew his whistle, it seemed everyone had learned the lesson from the first round. There was no charging ahead, no reckless attack. Instead, everyone ran for the nearest place to hide. Mike found an old, rusty wheelbarrow and tipped it onto its side. He crouched behind it, making himself as small as he could as he glanced over the top. He could see the girl who had made the gesture making her way toward the guy she'd waved at. The other girl had tried to hide, but where Mike had a pretty large wheelbarrow, she had two car tires, one atop the other. Not nearly enough cover. He grinned, and took aim. There were times to be chivalrous, but this wasn't one of them. He fired three quick shots. The first missed, but the other two found their target.

Ted blew his whistle, and the girl rose, furious at being tagged not thirty seconds into the fight. She looked over at Mike. "You fucking asshole," she yelled.

Mike shrugged and gave her a smile. "Sorry," he said. She didn't smile, just gave him the finger as she turned and walked to the clubhouse.

Okay. One down, plenty more to go. He scanned the field, looking for dangers or easy targets. He couldn't see anyone near him, and the few players he saw were too far away to hit.

He needed a plan. The wheelbarrow was too small to be anything more than temporary cover. Closer to the center of the field was a small shed. He hadn't seen anyone go inside, and it looked like a perfect place to hide. It was a tiny, square building, with a single, low doorway. Like the shed he and Carla had cleared in the last round, there was no roof.

He started making his way toward it, sprinting from cover to cover. He was almost at the shed when he heard muffled voices from inside it. He dropped to the ground and crawled behind the shed, wondering what to do next. As he lay there, he suddenly felt someone grabbing his leg.

"If I'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

He twisted around, looking straight into Carla's grinning face.

"Hey," he whispered. "Good to see you among the living." He smiled at her. "Killed anyone yet?"

"Yeah, two of the guys from blue and the dad. You?"

"Got one of the Jessicas. I was gonna hide in here, but it's not empty. I was just gonna try a frontal assault when you got here."

She shook her head. "Bad plan," she whispered. "You might get one, but not the other."

"Should we try the boost again?"

"No, they'll be prepared." She paused. "But that might not be a bad thing. Okay, listen, how 'bout this." As she explained her plan, Mike started grinning.

"You're a natural-born killer," Mike said, grinning at Carla in the tiny shed.

"Done it before," she answered. Mike raised an eyebrow. "Paintball," she added. "It's not a hobby or anything, but I've tried it three or four times."

Their tactic had worked just as Carla had planned. Mike had jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall, deliberately making as much noise as possible, exactly as if they were trying the boost again. The two guys inside both swung their guns toward the open roof, waiting for the assault that never came. They never even had the time to point their guns at Carla. One of the guys had a sour look on his face as he skulked off while the other took the defeat with grace. "Nice move," he'd said, saluting Carla as he followed his friend to the clubhouse.

"Right. So, now what? We can't stay here, and at some point we'll have to go after each other."

"Yeah," she said. "But let's catch our breath and see how many are left out there." There was a small bench in the shed, and she climbed on it, glancing over the walls. Mike climbed up beside her.

"Look," she said, pointing.

Mike looked in the direction she pointed, and grinned. It was a small structure, almost like an old-fashioned phone booth, but with only two walls. They spotted the girl who had asked the question peering over one of the walls. The guy stood behind her with his hands on her boobs. Her hand was at his crotch.

"Hey, she might follow up on her promise," he said, laughing.

"What?"

He quickly told her of the girl's gesture, and she grinned back. "Debauchery and immorality in our midst? We can't let this stand."

"Think we can take them out from here?" Mike asked, judging the distance.

"I know I can," she said, grinning. "But since I've already gotten five and you're at one, I'll let you do the honors."

He took aim. "I'll try, but be ready to fire if I miss."

He fired, hitting the wall beside the girl's head. "Fuck," he muttered as the couple turned toward them. He fired again, and the second shot hit the girl's visor.

"Nice," Carla said, then took the guy out with a single shot.

The guy cursed at them, but the girl only laughed. She said something to the guy, touching his shoulder. He took her hand, and they headed back to the clubhouse together.

"Two more down," Carla said, her voice full of glee.

They looked in all directions, trying to spot other players. "Can't see any," Mike said. "But over half are still left."

He glanced up at the clubhouse where the defeated players were watching the game. There were maybe seven or eight up there, so there were at least twelve players still in the game. "Only two of the Chads are out."

"Chads?" Carla raised an eyebrow under her visor.

"They're way too tan," Mike answered, as if that was all the explanation required.

She giggled.

"About that prize," Mike began.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, did you have anything in particular in mind?"

She grinned at him, leaning a little closer. "What? Me? A sweet, innocent doctor? I figured you'd be chairman of the prize committee."

He grinned back. "Well, uh... I might have a suggestion."

"What?"

He paused, weighing his words. "Well, I don't mean to be too forward or anything, but, well, you know..."

Carla interrupted him, snorting. "Mike, get a grip. I've already told you I'm a big girl."

He smiled. "Okay, okay. How 'bout this. The winner decides what we do when we're finished. Anything goes. Sounds fair?"

She nodded. "Sounds good. My windows haven't been cleaned in ages."

Mike stared at her.

She managed to keep a straight face for another second before breaking into laughter. "Oh, come on. I'm kidding."

"Good. Because I was starting to reconsider the whole deal."

She grinned and climbed down from the bench. "May the best player win."

"You're going down."

"On you? You dream."

He laughed.

She gave him a wink, then slipped through the doorway and disappeared to the left.

Mike waited a few seconds before following. He turned right.

Game on.

Chapter 3: Anything Goes

"Nobody likes a sore winner," Mike said.

Carla glanced quickly at him, then back at the road. "What?" she said innocently. "I'm just enjoying a nice ride in my car."

Mike snorted. "Yeah, right. I drive a Honda too, I know that's not it."

"Sorry," she said. "You're right. I'll tone it down."

"Good."

"Kicked your ass, though."

He snorted. "Thanks for toning it down." He smiled. "So, how many windows are we talking about?"

She laughed. "Actually, did them myself a week ago. And some more cleaning. Things happened that made me want to have an apartment I'd let people into."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It wasn't messy, not really, but no one would think I had a housekeeper."

"I'm kind of the opposite," Mike said. "Not a neat freak, maybe, but I keep it tidy. Sarah's been over a few times, she says there's no personality there."

"Ooh, the tidy type. You're getting me hot."

He smiled. "That's promising."

She looked ahead, silent for a few moments before continuing. "Mike," she said. "You're a sweet guy. And that's a good thing, but there's sweet and there's sweet, you know?"

"Uh, I suppose?" This wasn't their usual banter.

"You always... I don't know, try to be 'nice', try not to push, you know?" She glanced over at him. "And I love that about you, but not all the time, right?"

"Yeah, I hear you. It's just..." He paused. "It's hard, you know."

She looked over at him again, her mouth twitching. "I damn well hope it is."

And just like that, everything was good. He laughed. "Fuck you, Carla. I thought you were gonna stop the car and tell me to get out."

"What? With a hard cock right next to me?"

He laughed more. "Okay, get me to your apartment. I'll show you some of the stuff I've seen on the Starlight stage."

They bounded up the stairs, two steps at a time, Carla fumbling for her keys as she ran. They rushed inside and slammed the door behind them. Carla barely managed to lock the door before Mike pulled her to him and kissed her. She'd initiated their previous kisses, this time it was his turn.

He wasn't careful or tentative in the slightest. As he kissed her hungrily, he tugged her sweatshirt up, pulling it over her head, then kept kissing her as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra. He managed to unhook it, and the bra slid off her shoulders. "Oh my god," he said as it fell to the floor. "They're magnificent." He put his hands on them, pushing them together.

"What, these old things?" she said, but he could tell by her quick breathing she wasn't really in the mood for banter. "I've had them for ages." She took his hand and dragged him to the bedroom. "Get out of those pants," she said as she started pulling her own down.

He complied, jumping on one foot as he pulled his pants off. They finished at the same time and stood facing each other, Carla completely nude, Mike still in his paint-soaked hoodie. "Ah, that's where I hit you," Carla said, pointing to a spot, laughing.

"No it wasn't, that was one of the Chads. The ginger one," Mike said, laughing, pulling off his hoodie. He pushed her back onto the bed. "Now shut up, I'm gonna taste you." He put his head between her thighs, her pussy two inches in front of his face. "Can't miss from here," he said, and dove in.

"Mmmm," Carla said. "Your aim's improving."

He licked and sucked her with the enthusiasm of a guy who'd been wanting to do this for weeks. Carla lay back, eyes closed, her hands in his hair. "Mmm, that's good," she moaned.

Mike just grunted, continuing. He reached up, kneading her tits as he licked, his eyes also closed.

Carla's moans became more insistent, and she started pushing her hips against his face. "Harder," she said, her voice almost a croak. "More." Mike moved one hand down from her breast, inserting two fingers into her. He started fucking her with them, while still licking her clitoris and pussy lips. "Jeeesus," Carla moaned, getting closer. "Yes, just like that, just like that, just like that..."

Suddenly, her whole body started shuddering. "Mmmmm," she moaned, pushing her pussy into his face, pulling his hair so hard it was almost painful. "Yes! Yes!"

Slowly, her shuddering subsided, and she lay still, eyes still closed. Her grip on his hair loosened, and he lifted his head slightly, panting for air.

"Mmmmm," she said again, her eyes still closed. "That was soooo good. I'm glad I won that prize. Please turn off the lights when you leave."

He rose to his knees, staring at her. "You monster," he roared, then burst out laughing. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, giggling.

"Get down here," she said. "Now it's my turn to taste you."

He fell on her, his body against hers. "Gonna kiss you a little first. I'm a sweet guy, gotta keep it romantic." He opened his mouth wide and covered her entire mouth, some of her nose, and most of her chin.

She laughed, turning her face sideways. "You're suffocating me." She pushed him off, and he rolled off her onto his back, his cock pointing to the roof like a flagpole. She got to her knees and moved between his legs, pushing them aside. "Now, you just enjoy this as much as I did."

He smiled at her, then let his head fall down on the pillow as she took his cock in her mouth. "Mmmm," he said.

She sucked his cock deep, looking up at him. She started bobbing her head, letting him in and out.

"Yeah," he said. "That's it."

She continued, sucking him deeper for each bob, getting her mouth almost down to his pubic hair. She let his cock out and started stroking it while she licked the head. He glanced down at her. She smiled up at him. "You like it? Want me to continue?"

Mike only groaned. "Yeah, I like it."

"Is this how they do it in the movies?" she said, and took the head of his penis into her mouth, looking up at him.

"Yeah, it is."

She let him out again. "Not like this?" she said, and in one smooth move, she took his entire length into her throat, her nose pressed into his stomach. She kept her head down, his cock lodged in her throat, for several seconds.

"Oh my god, Carla," he moaned, clutching the sheets with his hands. "How the hell did you learn that?"

She raised her head slowly, his cock almost all the way out, then took him back in. She did this a couple of times before letting him out, stroking him again. "I told you, I'm a big girl." She grinned at him. "Want me to keep going?"

"Yes!"

She took him back in and continued sucking him, alternating between taking him down her throat, sucking the head and stroking him.

"Carla, slow down. I'm gonna cum," he warned.

She took him out and looked up. "You don't wanna cum?"

"Yeah, I do. I really do, but, uh, you know."

"Shhh, just enjoy," she said, and went back to sucking.

"Mmmm," Mike groaned. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum." His fists grabbed the sheet, and his legs started jerking as he came. What felt like a gallon of cum went straight down her throat, Carla swallowing each drop. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he said as his legs started to shake less, his tense body starting to relax.

Finally, he just lay still, panting, just as she had done just a few minutes ago. She took his cock out of her mouth and gave it a final lick, then moved up and lay on her side beside him, her head close to his.

"Tit for tat," she said, grinning.

Mike only managed a small smile, his pulse still racing, his breathing still quick. "Yeah," he said and swallowed. "Carla, that was amazing. By far the best feeling I've ever had."

She smiled, her head on his chest. "Good," she said. "Keep being a nice guy, and maybe I'll do it again sometime."

"I'll be nice," he said, smiling.

She lifted her head and looked at him. "I know you will." She paused, then smiled. "By the way, I won, so I get what I want for the rest of the day, right?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "That's right. Anything in particular you want?"

"I think you can guess. That orgasm you gave me was intense, and I think you enjoyed yours too, but I'd really like to feel you inside me, too. Up for it?"

He groaned theatrically. "Work, work, work."

She laughed. "Yeah, right. You're fooling no one."

He grinned. "Nope, didn't think so. I'd like that too, but I'll need a couple of minutes, okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

So they waited a few minutes. Her head was on his chest, and he stroked her hair.

"I'm glad you won," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Well, I hope not, but I could've chickened out. Not having the guts to say what I really wanted, you know? Said something lame, trying to be funny instead."

She nodded. "I don't think so. I think we'd have ended up like this either way." She grinned. "But that's moot. You wouldn't have won if I'd worn a blindfold."

"Oh yeah?" He laughed, then rolled her over onto her back. The two minutes had been well spent.

He spent the night. They did a slightly shorter and less frantic re-shoot the next morning. They had coffee in bed. Outside, Sunday went on without them.