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Improving Concentration
🕑 Added 2025-10-04 01:39:42 +0000 UTCAssassinating enemies deep into their territory, especially rebellious insurgents, was something that a single team could handle, if you had the right people, in this case, a Sniper Team.
Sniper Teams were far larger than people thought they were. A lot of folks still had the image of the lone wolf sniper, wandering alone through the wasteland, from hiding spot to hiding spot, taking individual shots at the heads of important targets, but the reality was very far from it. To begin with, no sniper walked alone, and instead, each of them had a second, a spotter.
They also had entire teams, exfil plans, and never went further into enemy territory than planned or necessary. Mobile machinery support, satellital support, even entire armed squads would be mobilized.
Now with all that said, there was one thing that a lot of people expected of Snipers and that was that they tended to stay in one place for a very long time waiting to line up the right shot.
Marcus Zuviria was a member of one such Sniper unit. He was the spotter for his gunman, in fact. Gunwoman, in that case. Her name was a complicated string of characters and numbers, but she responded to Bella, and that was what he called her in his head. As all Super Soldiers, she was big, she was strong, she was armored and she was incredibly attractive.
Her entire body was covered in a partially transparent black bodyglove, it was apparently designed to absorb light and heat, there were wires and cables that crisscrossed her body, drawing lines around it that almost looked like lingerie, transmitting that energy to the equipment on her glossy steel helmet.
Active camouflage came active and the colors of her suit slowly changed to the golden yellow of the sands and sandstone around them. The latest in equipment, and much more advanced than his old school desert camo military fatigues.
Oh, also it was practically painted on. Bella's body was muscular and strong, she had slightly wider shoulders than most, thick, muscular thighs and hips that the phrase 'child bearing' didn't even do justice to, she was built for strength and long term endurance.
Even her pillowy breasts were deliberately made softer and bigger, so that she could spend extremely long amounts of time laying down on her front and never suffer for it.
Either that or the designer was a pervert, but surely the military wouldn't waste time, money and scientists' efforts on huge titties, right?
Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Marcus sought not to think of his partner's body, but it was getting increasingly more difficult.
And that was something that Bella wasn't blind to.
Now, normally, regular folks both feared and revered their Super Soldier allies. She was aware of that, and had dealt with quite a bit of it. She didn't like it. She served just the same as they did, she had feelings just like they did, but because of her enhancements, augmentations and her role, she could scarcely relate to them.
It was made worse by the fact that she was a Sniper, and that meant she usually worked in long term assignments away from groups of soldiers that might see her as one of them.
That was why she had formed something of a bond with Marcus. He was... he saw her as human to begin with, and he was a dutiful soldier, strong of character and with great determination. Keeping pace with her was impossible, of course, for a regular soldier, but he damn well tried, and she respected him greatly for it.
Perhaps, had she not developed such a bond, Bella might've decided to just ignore his wandering eyes, might've elected not to notice the fact that his gaze tilted towards her shapely rear, as it stuck out like a pair of rocks.
And speaking about things hard as rocks, even his fatigues couldn't hide the sizable member as it stretched the front of his pants. She could stay still for hours, suppress her needs and simply wait, but he, he was clearly starting to struggle.
The spotter struggling was bad news for a Sniper Team.
It was time to do something about it.
"You're hard."
Marcus almost fumbled his ultra-long-rangefinder binoculars, but caught himself. "I-"
"Let's spare the nonsense," she said, not trying to rebuke him, but rather, trying to get a move on. "We still have fifteen minutes before the target's going to be in the area."
"I'm, I- I swear this is just a physiological reaction I-"
"You've been staring at my ass for several hours," she interrupted, laying down her rifle, nearly as long as she was tall and twice as heavy, and then cracking her neck, using her hand to rub at her stiff muscles. Just because she could stay still for long didn't mean it was super comfortable.
Marcus leaned up and opened his mouth to protest, but she planted her hands on the sand, digging into it slightly and then throwing her legs in the air. She only had visible armor on the backs of her hands and on the heels that she wore, specifically designed to proved the most comfortable angle for feet, and Marcus saw those shoes up close as she swung her legs up in the air, and then, at his head, in the process rotating so she was facing him.
She locked her ankles behind the back of his head and then forced him down and towards her, sliding her legs around the back of his head to let him fall into her crotch, her thick, muscular thighs closing around his head.
He looked up, so that his nose wouldn't smash against her body-glove clad crotch.
In a moment he realized that she wasn't wearing any underwear under the armor, he could feel the puffy lips of her pussy against his chin and lower lip while looking into her featureless, smooth helmet, vaguely in the shape of a motorcycle helmet, with a blank plate at the front that somehow seemed expressive just then.
He could already imagine a smug smile on that blank plate, an emoji even, but it didn't have such a function.
"N-No panties?" he asked.
Her voice sounded smug. "I don't like panty lines in my outfit."
He gulped and then she relaxed her grip for a moment before suddenly spinning him around with a swift move that wouldn't have been out of place in a lucha libre show or some sort of artistic gymnastics even.
The question must've been written on his face because she answered it before he voiced it. "Took me weeks to learn how to perform that move, learned it from a wrestling show."
His back hit the soft sand that covered the sandstone bed underneath them, and then in the same motion, she straddled his crotch. Her hands moved like lightning and in mere moments she had managed to undo his pants and had pulled them down to reveal his very erect, very burly and very stiff penis.
She then plopped her butt down and sat on his length, letting him feel the heat of her pussy. "But this isn't what you want, is it?" she asked, as she began rubbing his cock against her pussy through the thin cloth of her body glove. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
He gulped. Marcus couldn't hide the fact that he was both excited and worried. "I- I-"
"Yeah, you want something else," she said, "let's get this over with so we can get back to our job," she added, straightening her back for a moment before bending it so that she could reach behind her own butt, and suddenly, there was a ripping noise.
She raised her hips and guided his cock behind herself, then she came down, and he felt himself slip into a cavern way tighter than any restriction they had crossed in order to reach their safe perch overlooking the rebel faction's meeting place.
He heard her breathing come out as a hiss, loud enough to be heard over the sound dampening effect of her helmet.
The faceless stare of her helmet somehow was making him feel even more embarrassed as it was turned down to him, as she planted her feet on the sand and leaned back, grabbing his naked thighs with her hands and then she began bouncing.
"Acghh, I, I'm-"
"Shush, be quiet, we can't afford to be picked up by a listening post," she said, as she began pumping her hips, successfully and perfectly managing to go just about low enough that she almost made contact, stopping just before she would make a noisy plap, only the slightly wet and squelchy noise of her ass devouring his cock sounding out.
He covered his won mouth with his hand, closed his eyes and tried to endure the intense pleasure as she rode him furiously.
"Hurry..! We don't have much time, you must ejaculate soon!"
Could he lie and say that he wasn't having the time of his life, doing something many men dreamed of doing, getting his dick squeezed in the genetically and biomechanically enhanced asshole of one of humanity's heroes?
Was it really wrong for him to want to extend that sensation for as long as possible?
Whatever the answer was, he didn't care, he didn't last long anyway, letting out a pathetically weak moan and followed by a lewd one from Bella herself, as Marcus exploded inside her ass and pumped a thick hot load of dick cream right up her rear passage.
It was then that the radio signal light on her helmet lit up. She brought a hand to the side of her face, just over where her ear would be, and tapped it.
"Affirmative, acknowledged, over and out."
"W-What was that?" he asked, panting.
"Target's convoy is two hours out," she said. "I'll need you fully prepared and ready to go by the time they arrive, so I'll take my time to," he could HEAR the sound of her licking her lips lewdly through the helmet, "take care of you."
He gulped.
Things were about to get a lot more bouncy soon.
