Mass Effect Stupid Sexy Primitives

Stupid Sexy Primitives

Javik, the Vengeful Ancient, the last of the great Prothean Empire, was under the spell of the delicious beverages he had. He was not expected to enjoy participating in what the primitives of this cycle called a "party." A wise assumption, because for his hundreds of years of life, the only thing he enjoyed was killing Reapers. However, once the music started, the human called Cortez offered him some liquid called "tequila" in a small glass. He and a group of the attendees drank at the same time. Their faces twisted and shoulders shivered, but Javik found it very refreshing.

He asked for another, but in a larger glass. It was obvious to the prothean that the exquisite taste of the beverage was lost on the primitives surrounding him, so he resolved to absolve them and take the bottle for himself. As the party went on, he found his senses starting to dull, the physiological sense of touch he had was losing focus, becoming nothing more than vague emotions and colors. As he conversed with the crew and started to have target practice with the turian, krogan, and the prothean in disguise, he was actually starting to enjoy himself. He knew it came from the alcohol, that it was altering his senses, but he found himself starting not to care.

As night started to meld into early morning, Javik could tell the party was starting to die down. Pairs, perhaps even one triplet, were moving into private rooms for what Javik assumed was to rut, others were finding couches and comfortable corners, succumbing to their weakness of the alcohol. Javik was not one of those people. Sure, his feet weren't as steady and his superior four-eyed vision was starting to blur, but he was not declaring defeat—only a tactical retreat.

Javik climbed up the stairs, passed the sitting room, and into the large master bedroom in the far corner, the only room unoccupied. He stepped inside and saw the bathroom—perfect. A small, dependable position with only one point of entry. Any foolish primitive who dared to try to sneak attack the Avatar of Vengeance would face a quick end with his particle rifle. He even had multiple sources of running water to wash his hands.

And so Javik sat on the primitive chair that the species of this cycle use to defecate, and started to go to sleep. For about a half hour, that was, until he heard clinking of bottles and the door to the bedroom being shut and deadlocked.

He sat up, walked to the open entry of the bathroom, and slowly leaned out to see. He could not see much, with small lamps sitting on each side of the bed being the only beacons of light in either room, but he could still see Commander Shepard and Liara T'Soni with their arms around each other. Her arms were around his neck, and the Commander had one hand low on the small of her back, the other, next to it, holding a thin box holding six bottles of some asari liquor he was not familiar with.

"So, you got to steal me away, Commander," the asari said with a light slur, her pitch noticeably higher. "What do you plan to do now?"

"Well, I don't know how you asari tend to party—"

"I do not either."

"Well, on Earth, we have a thing called the 'after party'..."

The Commander and the Doctor sat on the foot of the bed, drank their bottles, and just...talked, and laughed, and sometimes just...stared at each other intently. Javik did not understand what they could be talking about for so long, but it certainly wasn't about the war effort. He had gleamed from Shepard that he was intimate with the asari, but they tended to remain professional while on duty.

Javik could feel the pheromones and the memories that flowed between them around his finger tips, and he mulled between scrubbing his hands clean or walking away. Either would mean detection, which would mean questions, forcing himself to speak about something outside the war, outside even his wide berth of knowledge. His stomach started to churn from the alcohol that had so besieged the other aliens.

After watching them for a bit longer, Javik decided he was just going to walk away. It would be awkward, but he was not needed. He would walk out, pretend not to notice the social taboos of this cycle, try to call the asari by her first name, as requested, and find some other part of the apartment to, as he heard the humans say, "crash."

As Javik was about to make his move, Shepard and Liara started to kiss. Slow, soft at first, then his tongue opened her lips and their tongues were entwined. The asari wrapped her hands around his hair, pushing their mouths closer together, the Commander doing the same with a hand around the folds of her neck, the other going further, going to the small of her back to pull their bodies together, and staying just above her buttock, wrapping her leg around his hip.

Suddenly Javik's feet were pinned to the spot where he stood.

They pull away, only for her to tug and pull his grey shirt off his body so that she could assault his neck with her mouth, her teeth and her tongue. Before she could move further down, his hand, still holding the back of her head, lifts her up, making her gasp so he can pop open her collar and start opening her white, armored coat. He joked about getting her a less complicated casual outfit, which prompted an actual giggle from the asari, suggesting he let her keep some garment called a "hoodie." Her suggestion ran away from her at the last syllable as he pulled the jacket down and assaults her neck in kind, nibbling and sucking on the small, scaly skin as her exposed arms wrap themselves around him, nails scratching into his back in appreciation.

The Ancient felt something else stir inside him as he watched from afar, something that pushed aside his unease and crumbled his need to leave. Something he had not felt since he was put in the stasis pod on the planet once called Barshoon, thousands of years ago; that he had felt on a semi-regular basis during his rare moments of peace during the Reaper invasion of his cycle. It was a heavy, burning feeling below the pit of his gut.

Desire.

His mouth was dry, his eyes glued to the sight before him, even his groin was throbbing under his armor. Of course he had known the pleasures of sex during his cycle—he was driven, not asexual. They were few, fewer than he would have liked, but hard, passionate, often in the heat of the moment when a reaper was killed, a sector was won for the moment, when they allowed themselves to hope.

The female prothean was an exquisite creature. Lithe and slender, but still physically powerful, and incredibly gifted in what this cycle called biotics. In fact, if he were to imagine her with an extra pair of eyes, a more triangular skull, a warmer skin color and some scallops across the forearms, the asari, under armor finally pried open on the top, her full breasts exposed, would make for a truly exceptional prothean.

The commander must have agreed, for he started to lick and suck on her breast, the other being squeezed and pinched with his hand. Liara gasped and moaned, her hands around his hair as her hips moved on their own accord. Her hands start pushing him off her breasts, directing him further down. He kissed down her toned stomach as he undoes the bottoms of her suit with practiced ease.

He could see her lips moving, spouting sexually laced lines, but Javik was not listening to the words. His skin, his finger tips, his mind was starting to clear from the alcohol, and he did not just see the Commander flipping her over so her round, firm buttocks stuck in the air as he plunged his fingers inside her; he could see their past trysts. The planned and the spontaneous, the hard and the soft, the short and the long, the normal and the...experimental. The pheromones, the heat, the patent affection and...love, proved to be more powerful an intoxicant than the alcohol.

The prothean fumbled with the clamps of his armor, considerably more difficult with the alcohol impairing his dexterity and his eyes latched on the scene in front of him. The two moved around—he now laid on the bed, she sat on his face as he lashed at her genitals with his tongue. She had pulled down his pants and exposed his shaft, and bent over to wrap her lips around it. Coincidentally, that was when the ancient undid his last clamp and pulled the armor away.

The prothean's member, having been confined, was still it's flaccid state, a thick, round nub between his legs. His hand started to squeeze and rub the mound, the nub already being engorged and growing out. It was familiar to the commander's, deep down the asari's throat. Long and thick, a lighter shade of his own skin. The tip of the commander's was rounder and lacked the light, plated ridges across it.

With his right hand, Javik grabbed his penis, fully erect and throbbing, and stroked it. Up and down, up and down, in pace with the asari bobbing on Shepard's. He watched intently at her, imagining that it was his member she lovingly tonguing, thrusting further down her hot, wet mouth, bright blue eyes intently on him as they are for the Commander. A bead of light green fluid passed through the tip, clearing the way for his seed, the moisture slipping down the shaft, making the strokes wetter, furthering the vision in his mind.

The asari then popped the Commander's flesh from her mouth and moaned, wantonly, with eyes shut tight and her legs shaking as she came to an orgasm. She slumped down, limp and gasping, and Javik briefly wondered if that was going to be it, if they were going to be done before he finished. Then Commander Shepard sat up to his knees on the bed, erection hard and bouncing in place, and pulled Liara up from her laying position.

She positioned herself on her hands and knees as Shepard made his way across the bed, sitting on his knees behind her. His hands dipped to her knees, fingertips slowly going up her thighs to her firm, round backside. His member slides up and down her dripping slit, squeezing each cheek and hitting them with a loud smack. The asari gasps and moans with each hit, angling her behind each time for a better slap and, presumably, to get him inside her.

She dropped her head down to the bed, the Ancient heard a whisper that was more to the sheets than to the Commander. He lifted her head up, holding the back of her neck in a firm grip. Javik saw that her face was a deep, dark purple, her eyes had black spots leaking through. Her body was crackling with blue, biotic energy. He had read about the asari's method of melding as their strongest form of sexual release, and he gathered that the Commander had her holding it back. He heard him whisper something back to her, and loudly, from the pit of her stomach, the asari moaned an answer.

"Please," she gasps, "please...fuck...your azure. I...need it so bad...Goddess please..."

The Commander, apparently finding her plea of sexual mercy enough, pushed deep inside her, filling her to the hilt. Her eyes went jet black and the two biotics started to crackle with energy, tiny sparks popping with every touch as they start to meld. Javik's body started to glow with his green biotics as he felt himself getting closer to release, stroking his member harder and faster.

The Commander and Liara were a sight to behold. Their gasps and moans were in sync, one feeling the others physical and mental connections at the same time, compounding into what the ancient could only describe as utter bliss. The Commander grabbed her head back down to the bed so he could thrust deeper into her.

Javik faltered for only a second when he saw that her head was bent in his direction, and waited for her indignant reaction. He found only blank, black eyes staring at something far away from the world around them, lost in her meld with the Commander.

He raised his other hand, pointing it towards the melding couple, and started to feel the air around him. He felt the pheromones and energy and let it tumble through his fingers, and slip down his arm. The pleasure, the emotions of the two flowed through him like a river. Their pleasure added with his own, as he stroked faster and faster, his shaft throbbing it was so close.

Javik watched the two, and in his mind he took the place of the Commander's. His cock was not in his hands but deep inside her wet, inviting hole, her 'azure,' as he learned. His hands moved across her glorious body, hard and soft in every pleasing way. He was the one pounding her to oblivion. Her lips didn't cry "Shepard" but "Javik...Javik...Javik..."

The Commander and Liara came, and so did Javik. The couple slumped as the commander emptied himself into his bondmate. He shot his seed onto the floor, his hips thrusting so hard he had to drop to his knees. The alcohol and the pent-up energy spent made Javik's four eyes heavy, and as he laid down and drifted to sleep, he saw the two lay on their sides, his arms around her.

The artificial light of the Citadel pierced through John Shepard's eyes, ripping him away from deep sleep. His head buzzed and throbbed a bit from the night before, but between the biotic implants he had as a child, the genetic engineering as an Alliance recruit, and the cybernetics as an ex-dead guy, he didn't feel much of a hangover. He felt movement and saw Liara stirring awake with a groan, her tolerance clearly not as high.

"What a night," he said to himself, then turned to face her, eyes slowly opening, "and look who's here."

"I wish we could just stay like this," she murmured to herself as her hand danced across his chest, drawing across the ink on his skin.

"Yeah, but we got an apartment to pick up, followed by a war to win. Frankly, I'm not sure which is scarier right now." Liara breathed out a soft laugh as she pushed herself off. She looked around and found her panties. Shepard laid back for a moment and stretched himself out on the bed.

"Shepard," Liara hissed, mirth gone from her voice. He sat up, got on his underwear and stepped over to her...

...And finding Javik slouched on his side on the bathroom floor.

"Commmmandah," Javik slurred, and proceeding to talk about his dream of the reality he was in, clearly more closer to drunk than sober. As he rambled on, Shepard wondered how Javik got in here. He and Liara crashed pretty hard after they finished their lovemaking, but surely they would have heard him come, wouldn't they? Shepard saw something from the corner of his eye then, and looked away from Javik.

In a corner, near the hot tub, he saw a spray of lime-green liquid sitting on the floor. Shepard looked at the liquid, looked back to Javik, saw that his armor looked a little bunched up and less put together, mumbling about Liara's prefect blue eyes. He looked behind him to see what Javik would see from his prespective and had a perfect view of the bed. Shepard looked back to the green spray of liquid and back to Liara, looking at the stain behind him.

"Oh Goddess," Liara said.

"Agreed," Shepard replied. "I am officially hung over."

"Shepard...deal with this. I need some tea before I decide to make the prothean species extinct." Liara stormed out of the room, muttering to herself the whole time.

Shepard patted Javik on the shoulder, stirring the drunk prothean back to reality. "Javik, buddy, when we're on the Normandy and you're a little more sober, we're going to have a long, _long_ talk about privacy." Shepard stood back up, found a wash cloth hanging from a rack, and soaked it with water and ringed it out in the sink.

"In the meantime," Shepard dropped the towel onto Javik's hands, "you're going to go and clean _that_ up," he said as he pointed to the stain. "I am _not_ going to subject some poor maid to having to clean up prothean jizz."

Javik's head started to clear as he watched the Commander walk away. He picked up the wet towel in his hand, was about to mumble about the primitive way of cleaning messes before he saw his seed splayed out over the floor.

He let himself go, and groaned at the sudden realization of what he had done, his shame almost neon-colored on the ground for all to see. He closed his eyes, collected his thoughts, and crawled over to the spot and started to wipe down the stain with the cloth.

"Stupid sexy primitives," he muttered to himself.


End file.
