Tomb Raider: In Ruins (Patreon)

“If we’re going to die, there’s something I need to get off my chest,” Samantha said, visibly steeling herself. “Larson’s got a big dick. Jesus, but he’s got a big dick.”

“Yes, why wouldn’t he?” Lara asked, fingering a brown-wrapped Trujilos special from the ‘medication’ zipper in her backpack. She lit it quickly. “Here. If you’re thinking about Larson’s John Thomas, you need this more than me.”

She and Sam had been doing what they always did with ruins. The burial city of the Cytophoic Kingdom was itself buried deep below an overgrown jungle canopy, then layer after layer of sediment, until finally there were the halls and chambers of the tombs themselves.

A quarter-mile underground, they’d entered through a cave, drawn by the legend of the Magna Kaios, which… well, which wasn’t exactly important now, except that she wanted it and Sam was helping her get it.

Lara had thought her explorations had left her to one of the three keys to the Magna Kaios. It’d actually been on display, visible through a hole in the gate that let her see into the room. She’d solved a little puzzle, gone through the now-open door… and it’d closed up behind her.

She could see out, thanks to that hole at waist-level—the Cytophoic were a short people—but she couldn’t reach the lever that would let them out again. (Foolishly, she’d called Sam in with her to get a look at the key.)

The battery on her LED light was still good—it’d probably outlast the two of them—but she couldn’t get any signal on her satphone and the quest for Magna Kaios had been sensitive enough that Lara had told no one where they were going, afraid the communication would be intercepted and traced.

An underground river flowed through the room, pouring down from a crack in the ceiling and then disappearing into a dozen small holes in the floor. That’d kept them from getting too thirsty, as well as allowing them to bathe and dispose of waste, but after a day and a half, they’d run out of things to talk about and ways to escape.

Samantha dragged deep on the mary jane exactly like Lara had shown her, holding the Panama Red smoke inside her lungs until she had to let it out. Leaving behind a relaxed languor. As the sudden void in her exhaled lungs hit Samantha’s will, she started to giggle. Her thoughts rushed again to Larson’s enormous erection.

As her laughing fit continued, Lara snuggled as close to her as she could and wrapped an arm warmly around her. Slipping her hand along Sam’s flank until it was touching the side of her breast and kittenishly teasing the small but potent curve.

“Now how do you know how big some bloke’s tallywhacker is?” Lara asked. “You can tell me. You can tell me anything—”

“Oh, no, I can’t tell you anything, sweetie,” Samantha replied. “You’re Lara Croft and you absolutely can’t be told anything. I didn’t even want to come on this trip, remember?”

“Yes you did, you begged to come along—”

“I wanted to spend time with you,” Sam corrected her.

“Well, that’s coming off smashing,” Lara quipped. “Come on, share.”

“No, it’s awful. I really shouldn’t tell you.”

“What possible difference can it make at this point?” Lara insisted. “And you know how curious I get. Why would you torment me in my final hours? I’ll torment you back. All I’ve got to do is just latch onto your nipple like this—”

Sam sucked in air. “Okay, alright, that’s enough…”

Lara laughed wickedly, letting up on the pressure, but still fiddling playfully with Sam’s nipple through her shirt. “You’ll tell me all about it? Even the naughty bits?”

“Yes, yes, Lady Croft gets her way,” Samantha assured her, taking another heady drag from the joint and chasing it with a drink from their canteen. She felt tipsy and relaxed and even sensual—it was surprisingly sexy when a rivulet of water escaped her numb lips and ran down her throat to soak into her white blouse. “If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone—”

“I’ll take your secret to the grave, easy as that is to promise at the moment,” Lara promised, snuggling closer, running her hand up Samantha’s thigh but not too seriously. She pretended curiosity in how the fabric of Sam’s pantleg felt, like it was pure coincidence that her touch wandered further and further up Sam’s leg. “Tell me. Tell me and I’ll be your best mate.”

“Mmmm,” Samantha moaned, registering the double entendre. “That feels nice. It was back in… back in base camp in the Mojave, I think.”

“You think? I wouldn’t have forgotten if it were all that big.”

“Well, I’m not you and you give me a lot to think about besides. I had just left my tent when he bumped into me.”

“And he had a hard-on? I shouldn’t wonder—probably watching me bathe, the pervy git.”

Larson had been a thorn in her side since practically the day she’d left Yamatai. Handsome and he bloody well knew it, he was after the same thrills she was and brazenly considered himself the better man, emphasis on the man.

He took an unseemly glee in beating her to any treasure she was after and even more glee in Lara’s inability to accept defeat with any grace whatsoever. And, worst of all, he had an obnoxious crush on her.

He couldn’t even have the decency to leer at her, or refer to her by any slur stronger than ‘babycakes,’ so Lara could properly hate him. A part of her was impressed by the sheer tenacity of the man and that same part of her was… intrigued by his desire for her.

It was enough of a flaw to make her hate herself, even if she just had to look in Sam’s eyes to see how lovable she really was.

“We’d actually been eyeing each other a bit that night. I’d been trying not to; I know how you feel about him. But he just swept me off my feet. Literally. He picked me up and sort of hurled me into the medical tent and you know that thing the doctor brought alone, even though none of us could figure out why?”

“No!” Lara gasped. “Not that bloody awful gyno exam chair, with your feet up in the stirrups!?”

“Yes,” Samantha assured her, scooting her ass tighter against Lara’s hip, opening her legs wider to make room for Lara’s hand, now massaging her inner thigh. “I was drunk and he was so hard. My feet went up in the air and my legs were completely apart. He actually cut my panties off—it was kinda hot. But he didn’t—with his pecker? He put it in my mouth first.”

“Oh, what a pig,” Lara said. “And it was big?”

Samantha measured some eight inches in the air between her palms.

“No!”

“It was in my throat, I think I’d know!” Sam insisted. “Tasted awful too. At first I mean. After a while it… well, I didn’t mind.”

Lara giggled. Sam giggled with her.

“Did he at least return the favor?” Lara asked.

“No, dammit, all he did was use his fingers on me. Sliding them into me. Rubbing at me on the inside. It really got me hot. I was ready—so ready—for him to put it in me for real.”

“And did he?”

“Not hardly! He took his big dick and started hitting me in the face! Just like it was a paddle or something. Slapping my face and pressing it into my mouth and beating me some more—it actually hurt. Then I licked it and swallowed his precum, which seemed to satisfy him. I mean, then he got between my legs and just shoved it right into me!”

“Men!” Lara shook her head. “The whole bloody lot, just care about getting their end away!”

“Yeah. All they care about,” Sam agreed distantly. “But he did it really—he shoved around inside me, went in and out and on this side and on that side… maybe I was just grateful I wasn’t getting slapped by it anymore, but I…” She trailed off.

“Oh, Sam, you didn’t!”

“I couldn’t help it! My cunt was going nuts!”

“You didn’t let him come inside you, did you?”

Sam bit her lip. “I thought he’d never stop coming, actually. There was so much of it… squishing inside me… dripping all down my legs… I mean, when I was right side up again…”

“Bloody hell,” Lara swore. “You start off telling me the lad had a big whanger and now you’re saying you’re in love with the chap!”

“Sweetie,” Sam began mildly. “I hardly fall in love with everyone who makes me come.”

“Oh yeah?” Lara challenged, tracing the pad of her finger up the seam of Sam’s crotch. “What about someone who makes you come like I do? Huh, you little chippy? What do you do when someone makes you squirt?”