Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fan fiction is written for or any of the characters from it. This is a parody meant for entertainment purposes only.
This is a Dark Angel fanfic, so if you're not familiar with that show you might be kinda lost. Also be warned that this is little more than a stroke story as someone so elegantly put it.
Thanks to my Beta for being brave enough to edit the jumble of words I call a story.
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Rain poured down from the overcast night sky, pounding down against Max's apartment window. The sound was all too familiar to Max, but that fact didn't keep it from bringing down her already foul mood. With a scowl she watched the streams of water cascade down the glass face of her window. She hated it. There was a pile of scrap sheet metal just outside her window and when it rained hard enough, the pounding would remind her of the sound of distant gunfire that seemed to play soundtrack to her nightmares of Manticore, which then brought her to the reality of her current dilemma.
It was the dead of winter and it was cold. Almost cold enough to snow, but the Seattle weather seemed to produce only the most miserable of weather; just bordering on freezing, but allowing the still liquid precipitation to chill even her transgenic constitution to the bone. Living in an apartment with no heater didn't help any either, but that wasn't Max's problem--she was anything but cold, she was burning up.
Something had been off all day for Max. She had thought she was simply overdue for a good night's rest, so she headed straight home after work. Hoping to catch up on the sleep she so sorely needed, she jumped into bed and quickly fell into a dream filled slumber.
The fading memory of her dream was still lingering in her mind, she had been on a mission for Logan, taking down a local group of mercenaries, or maybe it was drug dealers. What she did remember was that the mission had taken a turn for the worse and she had ended up captured. Bound and gagged, the group of men started to do horrible things to her, horribly delicious things to her.
"Ungh," Max groaned and shook the thought away. It had been so real; she could still feel their hands roaming over her, holding her down as they forced themselves onto her. She had woken up gasping in a cold sweat the truth painfully obvious to her: she was in heat.
That was almost an hour ago and now she sat alone in her apartment, in her hands the note Cindy had left her informing her roommate she had taken off for the night to hook up with some "lickity chick." Nobody was around to help her; nobody was going to stop her from making the same mistake she had made so many times before.
Tightening the blue bathrobe she had thrown on after her second cold shower, she watched the cracked clock that hung from the far wall. With each painfully slow tick of the second Max could feel herself losing resolve. Her hand rested on her naked thigh, her fingers gently tapping the inside of her leg in rhythm with the clock's second hand.
Burying her head in her free hand Max let out a soft whimper, it had only been an hour and she was already losing it. Her hand inched further up her thigh and her mind raced. What was she going to do? The need was already almost too much to bear. Pressing her head against the wood table she wracked her brain for a way out. She could tie herself up, lock herself in her room for the next three days. She laughed at the thought, with her luck someone would find her and then she would really be fucked.
Logan. There was always Logan, he could help her. Maybe he had some sort of tranquilizer, maybe... No, she couldn't let him see her like this. She couldn't risk being near him like this, not when one touch meant death.
Maybe there was no point in fighting it. Maybe she should just find some stranger on the street and get it over with...Maybe just give some random dude the time of his life in some back alley. With that thought her hand slipped up her thigh and between her legs.
"God," Max whimpered and hunched over the chair, her face still buried in the sleeves of the oversized bathrobe. Her fingers slid up and down her wet slit before finding her swollen clit. Max bit down on her pouty lower lip. This wasn't helping, this wouldn't help anything. She knew the momentary relief she could bring herself would be fleeting and the heat would only return stronger than ever.
Mike, Matt, she wasn't sure of his name but he had moved into the apartment three doors down last week. He and two friends; they seemed close, very close. Max gasped as she let a finger slip inside her, she was so wet and tight. It had been so long since anyone had touched her, too long.
Panting, she squirmed in her seat, her strong finger working in and out of her dripping pussy. Her legs curled up and tightened around her hand. All she had to do was walk over there and they could be giving her the good hard fucking she so desperately needed. Another digit slipped inside her, her body convulsed around her fingers until she had to bite down the soft sleeve of the bathrobe to muffle the cry of pleasure.
Then her mind wandered to the inevitable, Alec. He was out there somewhere, just a phone call away. He was attractive enough--Manticore made sure of that--and he was transgenic. He was stronger, faster and with more endurance than any man.
Max's toes curled as a spasm of pleasure ran down her back, gasping she moved her fingers faster. She had never been with a transgenic before. He could bend her over this very table, and instead of her two fingers his hard cock could be slamming into her. He would do it, she knew he would, she saw the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. One phone call... just one call.
"Fuck!" Max cried out, her fingers franticly rubbing over her over sensitized flesh, driving inside of her tight pussy. She pictured Alec behind her, holding and squeezing her ass tightly as he drove his cock into her, slamming into her harder and harder with every thrust. Three doors down she could be pressed up against three men filling her body with their cocks, six hands touching her, massaging her, three mouths sucking on her heated flesh. Or she could be tied up in Logan's penthouse, unable to move as he teased her aching body from afar.
"Ohgod," she whimpered feeling her body convulse. She pushed her fingers deeper, rubbing the sensitive inner walls of her body. She was so close, crying out she arched her body, her free hand grabbing the side of the flimsily table causing it to shake. "Ohhhgod," she cried, her hips thrusting down against her hand. And then just as she was reaching her release it was ripped away by a loud strong knock on the apartment door.
Max's eyes went wide with surprise, her head snapping towards the door to stare at it in shock. Her hand flew from underneath her robe as if someone had caught her in the act. The violent, jerky motion sent her tipping back on her chair. Kicking her legs out did little to help as she tumbled backward landing in a heap on the floor.
Panting, her heart racing she stared in disbelief at the door before looking around the room as if someone was playing a cruel joke on her. Another loud knock snapped her attention back to the door.
