Chapter 18

The Rookie – Sydney suburbs, eighteen months after drop.

“Try to keep pace, tiny man,” Alba laughed. She was jogging a short distance ahead of the Rookie, easily outpacing him with her long strides. She liked to stay fit, Earth’s gravity was around half that of Doisac’s, and so she would start to lose muscle mass pretty quickly if she didn’t keep up with her exercise regimen. The Rookie was a military man, and he was no stranger to two-mile runs, but Alba was in a class of her own.

They weren’t too far from home now, the sun was just starting to set, painting the distant hills to their left in shades of red and orange. To their right were rows of suburban houses with carefully tended lawns, the road deserted this late into the evening. They had chosen Australia as a place to settle after the war, not only because the hot climate suited Alba, but because the ONI headquarters was located in Sydney. The Navy liked to keep her close, both so that they could reach her easily, and for security purposes. The stifling heat was starting to subside a little now, a cool breeze blowing in from the ocean to the East, making the Rookie glad that he had thought to bring his sweater.

Alba was wearing a pair of tight jogging shorts that gave him an admirable view from his position behind her, along with a sports bra that struggled to contain the weight of her chest as it bobbed up and down, her bare feet thudding against the sidewalk. Finding clothing for someone of her size was one thing, but finding shoes for her was quite another, not that she seemed to want them.

“Almost there, tiny man,” she said as they rounded the corner into their cul-de-sac. She knew his real name by now, of course, but the nickname had stuck. They jogged up the driveway and arrived at the door to their house, being on ONI’s payroll came with its advantages, and the Rookie followed Alba inside. It was fairly large by Human standards, but Alba’s fluffy hair just skirted the ceiling. She had let it grow out since leaving the Covenant, tying it back in a ponytail, and letting her thick bangs fall over her face.

The Rookie shrugged off his jacket as Alba stretched, throwing it over the gravity hammer that was now serving as a coat rack, the massive weapon sitting head-down in the hall. The ONI engineers had been very interested in taking it apart so that they could study the gravity generator, but Alba was rather protective of it. She had little use for it now that the war had ended and the Covenant had split apart, but it held a sentimental value to her. Woe betide any burglar who was unfortunate enough to choose this house as his target...

Alba turned to face him, her cheeks flushed pink, her shoulders wide enough that she almost blocked the hallway like a cork in a bottle. Her grey skin was dripping with sweat, her bangs damp, her ample chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath.

“Perhaps is my imagination, but tiny man is getting better at keeping up with Alba,” she said with a toothy grin that exposed her sharp teeth.

The Rookie was doubled over, his hands resting on his knees, his sweat stinging his eyes. He gave her a ‘time-out’ gesture with his hands, and she slapped her thigh as she chuckled at him, sending a ripple through her flesh. Those shorts were criminally tight, the hem riding high on her muscular legs, the subtle paunch of her tummy overhanging the elastic waistband. She stretched again, reaching her arms behind her head and twisting her torso, her breasts straining against the sodden sports bra.

“Time for a shower, maybe?” she asked. “If tiny man is not too tired...”

He perked up at that, and she reached down to mess up his wet hair with her giant hand, leaving a tangled mess in her wake. She was not the only one who had let her regulation cut lapse recently.

“Oh, now you are no longer tired?” she teased. “Come, Alba will need help.”

They moved into the living room, shedding their clothes as they went, Alba slipping out of her clinging shorts with some difficulty as the Rookie hopped on one leg in an attempt to remove his pants. They had the usual amenities, a couch with a metal frame that could take Alba’s weight, along with a television that she had taken a liking to since settling in. He watched the heavy cheeks of her rump roll as she strode across the carpet, Alba pulling off her top, keeping her back to him as he followed behind her. She liked to tease him, her demeanor had become so much more playful now that the threat of death was no longer hanging over their heads, yet she still retained that warrior’s pride.

Once he had succeeded in shedding his clothing, he joined her in the bathroom, Alba waiting for him inside the shower cubicle. This was one amenity that had to be Alba-sized, and it took up most of the room, the Rookie pushing past the glass door as he squeezed in beside her. There was just enough room for the both of them, the shower head hanging a mere inch above Alba’s bouncy hairdo. He found himself facing her, his head at chest-height to her as she peered down at him with a smirk on her face, nude save for the scant fabric of her oversized thong.

Her breasts hung in front of his face, as full and as firm as ever, swaying gently with her every breath. Her voluptuous figure filled his view completely, his eyes drawn to the wonderful way that her fat dimpled where her hips met her waist, the elastic of her underwear cutting deep into her supple flesh. He knew her body like the back of his hand now, every dark-grey freckle, every pink scar that served as a reminder of her former life as a soldier. His own skin was a patchwork of healed wounds, including those that he had sustained during his time in New Mombasa, the scar from the needle that had hit him in the shoulder had never fully disappeared. There were plastic surgery procedures that could make his skin as soft and as clear as a newborn’s again, and the UNSC would cover the cost, but Alba had refused. She liked his scars, said that it was proof of his bravery, and he wasn’t inclined to challenge her on that.

She pressed him up against the cubicle wall, leaning on it with her forearm, letting the meat of her breasts cascade over his shoulders and weight him down. He didn’t complain, feeling her slick, warm flesh against his cheeks as he breathed in the sweet scent of her exertion. It was one that he had become very familiar with since ONI had released them, not a day went by that they didn’t reenact their encounter from that dismal highway tunnel. It seemed like so long ago now, but those emotions were still fresh, the fire that they had kindled together still raged as hot as ever.

Alba reached over and turned the shower on, letting the jets of water flatten her fluffy hair against her head, loosing a satisfied sigh as it flowed across her shoulders and down her back. The Rookie couldn’t restrain himself any longer, letting his hands wander across her waist, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips as they roamed around to her rear. He stood no chance of getting both arms around her, she was far too wide for his fingers to meet on the other side, but that didn’t stop him from weighing her cheeks in his hands. He felt her muscles tense as he delved his digits deep into the doughy flesh of her rump, burying them up to the knuckle, her iron glutes dimpling her fat. He hooked his thumbs around the string of her underwear, pulling it down over her thighs, Alba raising a leg to help him.

“Tiny man always grows feisty after workout,” she rumbled, shifting her shoulders to redirect the water onto him. She laughed as her cleavage began to fill, creating a small pool around his head, the Rookie blowing bubbles. She finally took a step back lest she drown him, the collected water spilling down his chest.

She reached for one of the shelves on a nearby wall, plucking a bottle of body wash from it, upending it onto her chest and letting the water carry the ropes of clear gel downwards. The Rookie raised his hands and began to spread it, turning the clear fluid into a white foam, wasting no time as he slid down to her bust. Alba bit her lip as he began to massage the slippery suds into the sensitive skin of her breasts, delving his fingers deep as he kneaded them like fresh cookie batter, before letting them spring back to their original shape.

“Alba thinks that tiny man is not taking hygiene seriously,” she muttered, rubbing her thick thighs together lasciviously as he circled one of her erect nipples through the slimy lather. He moved lower, running his fingers lightly across her stomach, feeling her powerful core flex beneath her soft exterior. He knew that she was ticklish where her leathery skin was thinnest, and those erogenous zones were already flushing pink, as if in invitation to him.

He passed over her navel and moved down to her thighs, sliding a hand between them, stroking their sensitive inner surfaces. She leaned more of her weight on the wall behind him, slumping over as he teased her, her breasts bumping him in the face as they swung with the motion. She was low enough that her neck was in range, and so he stood on his toes, Alba murmuring under her breath as he began to bite and kiss at her throat. Her hide was so thick and tough that he stood no chance of breaking the skin, and she seemed to enjoy it when he bit her hard, perhaps it was something that Brutes did to each other.

As his questing fingers roamed higher, he encountered a heat and wetness that was not a product of the shower, Alba shivering as his fingertips brushed her lips. She was swollen, needy, strands of her juices leaking over his digits.

“The Imp must finish what he starts,” she whispered, squeezing her thighs together to trap his hand there. He traced the folds of her vulva with his fingers, planting a sucking kiss on her neck, his touch too light to give her much satisfaction. She began to squirm, rolling her wide hips reflexively, her breathing growing heavier as her tension mounted. How he loved to watch her cheeks turn red when she was frustrated, too proud to simply ask for what she wanted.

He slipped a finger inside her, feeling her grip him tightly, a sigh escaping her lips as she leaned on the wall above his head. Her eyes slowly closed as he began to move, stroking her from the inside, her sensitive walls flexing around his digit. He found the firm nub of her clitoris with his thumb, wetting it with her excitement and making slow circles, feeling her shudder at his touch.

“You know me too well, tiny man,” she sighed.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, letting the warm water soothe their aching muscles, washing away the sweat and soap. The Rookie could feel her growing more excited, the way that her insides narrowed around his buried finger in ever more frequent spasms betraying her lust, despite her seemingly collected exterior. Eventually, he felt her large hand close around his wrist, withdrawing it from between her thighs.

“Enough teasing,” she grumbled, turning and leading him out of the shower cubicle. She left the water on, leaving the door ajar, not even taking a moment to let him reach for a towel as she guided him out into the living room. He felt the fluffy carpet beneath his damp feet as she tugged him along, her grip like iron, pushing open the door to their bedroom. She released her hold on him by the doorway, sauntering over to their bed, another amenity that had to be scaled up to handle Alba’s size and weight. At more than nine feet long, and nearly the same across, it was larger than any king-size that you could buy from a store. It was even more spacious than the main living area of the Rookie’s first apartment had been. They shared it, of course, and it was not uncommon for him to wake up to find Alba clutching him so tightly in her sleep that he had trouble escaping.

She flopped down onto the rat’s nest of mismatched sheets and pillows, the frame creaking worryingly, the bed springs screeching their displeasure as she sank into the soft mattress. Her knees were on the carpet, her upper body resting on the bed, her ample rear on display. The sheen of moisture that clung to her grey skin made her shine, her body catching the light from the setting sun as it bled through the slats on the window above the headboard, picking out the fine details of her muscular back. The sunlight seemed to make her powerfully built shoulders glow, the deep channel that ran down her spine, and the dimples just above her rump cast into deep shadow. The sheen of water on her round rump was practically enough to make it reflective. She propped herself up on her elbows, peering back over her shoulder at him in invitation.