From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

The Line Between Business and Pleasure

It was definitely 'business'.

The EMT was cute enough and his attention to her needs endearing, if simple and ham-fisted. His manhood filled her tightly and his thrusts plunged deep into her wriggling hips, but still Roselle had to draw him close, hugging and biting his shoulder to hide from him the bored glaze in her eyes. She almost felt sorry for him. On another night, under other circumstances, he would enjoy more than an hour undressing and fucking his very own naughty nurse. Some other night, some other circumstance, Rose knew she could enjoy his firm chest and his eagerness to please. He really was her type, she thought, as she felt his movements tense and he hoarsely whispered, "I'm gonna blow. A-are you ready?"

Taking her cue, Rose shuddered and hissed a low moan. White 3" heels dug into his calfs as his white seed spilled into her loins. She wiggled and moaned some more, faking her orgasm all the way from the stinging nails and the marks they left, proving the night he spent in his paramedic van, to the exhausted release and worried set-up. "Y... nnmm... yeu came... inside of me."

"Sh... shoot. I brought Remedy," he consoled quickly and started to push away, only to feel her short nails drag him back down.

Rose moaned again, low and exhausted, and rolled him off of her. "I will take it in ze morning," she whispered, preying on his sense of chivalry. The maiden in distress, dressing herself in white pleather panties and bra, white mesh stockings and a cliche white pleather nurse's uniform, too short to hide an inch of firm leg, and all because she told him she needed some Remedy to stay sober through the rest of her classes. Six tabs of the cleansing drug for the sex, and she'd connive another two or three to quickly abort any children his seed may have given life. He'd also agreed to teach her some basic - and advanced - first aid procedures from the classes she had missed already. Rose wasn't attending any classes and he wasn't such a gentleman after all; he wanted another night with the nurse in exchange for her lessons.

As Rose pretended to sleep against his chest, the EMT smiled, beaming triumphant over his achievement: the mythic mutual climax. It could have been pleasure, she mused as he glowed himself to sleep. She could have stalled his ejaculation a half hour, maybe two with his stamina; guided his attentions to better effect; ridden him at her leisure until she was sated and in desperate need of a shower. It wasn't truly a loss for him, but the whole torrid affair was no more than a matter of business for the Rogue Petit.

One hour later, the thief carefully shifted a hand to the pocket of her discarded nurse's outfit. Her fingers brushed against a small capsule, thin and easily broken in the center. Another minute to make sure he was still asleep, then her hand crawled up his chest. Deft fingers snapped the capsule under his nose while Rose held her breath. The sleeping EMT inhaled, snorted, then sighed. Given his weight, she guaranteed herself three hours before he woke, five at the most, and he would think nothing more than exhaustion in Rose's embrace had drawn him to slumber past the sun's rise.

The rest of the night went according to plan, step by step.

Strip the remains of the nurse's outfit and streak to the station wagon secured earlier in the day. There were no lights in the parking lot, she'd made sure of that also. Squeeze a lithe body sticky with sweat into flexible leather-like armor designed just for that - and easily washable. Check the guns and hotwire the car again, park outside the small, but well-stocked clinic for the wealthy. And wait.

Rogue Petit had done her planning too well and allowed for too many complications. With time to spare before the next security walkabout, she found herself thumbing the slim Razr snugged tightly against her thigh and thinking about Dani and Jay. She had time. She could call again. The cell phone slid from a concealed pocket and flipped open to a gentle angel, set against a sad red background and spattered with blood. Rose stared at the angel while her thumb hovered over the keypad and her thoughts fluttered about what once was a solid line, now blurred and distended.

Was she calling for business or pleasure? Did she care about Dani's recovery because she needed the bold woman's gang for the money? Or was there more to it? And what about Jay? And Victor? Loneliness was a weapon her black and red armor couldn't protect her from. The line between business and pleasure was slowly crumbling away like so much ablative shielding and with it, the armor of self-isolation protecting her most precious treasures.

After a half hour, the phone snapped shut and slid back into Petit's pocket. The next couple hours would see several cases of genuine and high quality medical supplies and drugs usually reserved for the Isles' wealthiest delivered to the Independants' warehouse. That morning, her alibi would wake up in the embrace of a naughty nurse wearing nothing but garters and the nurse's gown, smiling with memories of the intense fuck he'd given her and rising already in anticipation of when she returned to catch up on her lessons. And the evening news would berate a small clinic's guards for admitting they had been knocked out by a single girl because she, "jumped around the corner and ran along the wall" and they "weren't expecting her to kick".

And that was all a simple matter of business.