Big Fella - 1/1
Sunday, November 23, 2008

Jayne Cobb makes quite an impression on a “working girl” from Albion. Thought I’d post this over the weekend 'cause it’s most definitely NOT workplace safe.


Big Fella Author: hisgoodgirl Disclaimer: All belong to Joss. I got nada. Characters: Jayne/ ofc, brief reference to crew Pairing: Jayne/ofc, (het) Warning: NC-17 for frankly sexual content and adult language

Words: 4130

Author's Note: This story started off over a year ago with the narrator just chattering away in my head, so I let her chatter and typed like crazy. I recently discovered it in a folder of works in progress and decided to finish it up. Cross-posted from my LiveJournal. If you read and enjoy this, please take a minute to let me know. Hover for translation.


Big Fella

It was a Friday night and the bar was busy as usual. I just happened to look up from the john I was playin’ to, when he comes in with his shipmates. Tall, powerful lookin’ fella movin’ with surprisin’ ease for such a big man. Probably a mercenary, given all the hardware he was packin’. While his buddies made their way toward the back and took a corner table, he bellied up to the bar not ten feet from me and ordered a whisky, neat, tossed it back like it was branch water and called for a second.

The hayseed I’d been workin’ got up to join a poker game just startin’ up and left me free to study the newcomer. Nothing fancy about him. His clothes were rough and practical - combat boots and olive drab fatigues, his heavily muscled torso stuffed into a gaudy T-shirt that strained to accommodate his bulk. I’d been a whore on Albion for near on five years and seen my share of big, rough-hewn types, but this fella was different somehow.

Guess he musta felt me lookin’ at ’im, ’cause he turned toward me and I found myself starin’ into a pair of eyes the color of a clear winter sky. He nodded, with a little half-smile that told me he liked what he saw, then turned back to his drink.

Like most whores, I can’t afford to be too choosy an’ it ain’t like me to ignore offers the way I did that night. Just found myself sittin’ there at the table, watchin’ the big fella sip his way through his second drink and then a third. Never saw a man so deliberate about his drinkin’, almost like he was on a mission.

One of the other gals called my name to ask if I wanted in on a threesome – I shook my head no – and when I turned back, I caught him watchin’ me in the big beveled mirror behind the bar. I smiled invitingly. Some men have called me pretty, and I guess he musta thought so, too. He picked up his half-empty glass and left a bill on the bar. He didn’t look like a high roller, and I’m not at all sure why I turned down ready coin waiting on his attention, but there it was. He sauntered over, cocksure and shuài , and gestured at the seat beside me as he asked, “You in the mood for a little company?” His voice was low and suggestive, with a bit of twang that told me he was Rimworld born, and I warmed to the man.

“Sure – pull up a chair,” I told him. “Gittin’ kinda lonesome sittin’ here by m’self.”

He smiled again, flashing fine white teeth - thank heaven for that - and I noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled up. His strong jaw was dark with several days worth of beard and I found myself wanting to reach out and stroke the bone and muscle through that stubble.

Instead, the big man extended his work-hardened hand and took mine. His palm was warm and dry and the pad of his thumb rasped softly over my skin in small, electric circles. “Can I buy ya a drink, darlin’?” he offered.

The more I saw of him, the more it was clear he wasn’t just another john. “Sure,” I said, “that’d be right fine.” I tossed back the thick, black hair that framed my face and smiled flirtatiously, toying with the bauble that glittered on my bosom. “My name’s Lily,” I offered, “an’ I drink bourbon and soda.”

He waved Marcie over and ordered for both of us. Her eyes met mine for a brief moment as she bent to set her tray down, and she gave me a sly grin. The whisky he’d drunk had done nothin’ to dull the big fella’s wits and he quickly picked up on the look that had passed between us. As she turned away to place our order, he chuckled to himself. “Looked like you gals got some kinda secret betwixt ya. Somethin’ interestin’ you wanna tell me about?” He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head, then tossed back the last of his third glass.

I bent toward him, allowing him a view down my cleavage. “Let’s say we just both happen to appreciate a good-lookin’ man.” He smirked. We both knew the dance we were sharin’ would ultimately end upstairs and were content to take our time, building the attraction already crackling between us. Now, you gotta understand, whorin’s just a job like any other job. I look for likely customers, but when it comes right down to it, it don’t pay to be picky. Most a the time, the goal is to git the john off as fast as possible, clean up, and git back downstairs lookin’ available. The johns sure ain’t payin’ me to take my pleasure, and while there’s times I enjoy myself, mostly that’s a rare treat.

When Marcie brought our glasses, he turned his chair toward me and I watched as the muscles of his chest tensed and shifted under the T-shirt strainin’ over ’em. Definitely a professional. Hired muscle, I decided.

“You and yer friends ain’t from around here, are ya?” I asked him, smilin’ warm-like and just makin’ talk.

He glanced over to the table where they sat laughing amongst themselves, and shook his head. “Nah… just come in from a run to Whitefall. Kinda nice being dirtside for a change. Gives us a chance to restock, have a little down time.” He sipped his drink, then went on, “A man comes outta all that black empty nuthin’, well,” he winked, “let’s just say, he’s lookin’ fer something snug and warm.”

“Snug and warm, huh? Well, there’s plenty of that to be had around here,” I flirted shamelessly. “See anything you like?” Those blue eyes bored into mine, then wandered over me as he conjured up what I might look like nekkid. The big man propped one elbow on the table, displaying those muscles as deliberately as I did my bosom. Despite his rough clothing and the scars on his knuckles, his nails were clean and trimmed and I could see he took pride in caring for himself. That alone set him apart from most of the dai hun ren who wander in here looking for trim.

He leaned toward me, that grin tuggin’ at the corner of his mouth, and reached out to delicately lift and admire the gem that glittered between my breasts. “Pretty li’l thing,” he remarked.

I examined him through lowered lashes, answering warmly, “Why, thank ya. It was my mama’s.”

He replaced the pendant and softly trailed his fingertip up my neck to my chin, tilting it so our eyes met. “No, sugar,” he drawled. “I meant you.”

A burst of laughter erupted from the back corner of the room and I glanced over my shoulder toward the table where his shipmates sat. One of them, an attractive, grinnin’ man in a brown leather duster, beckoned to him. The big fella just shook his head and nodded toward me.

“That’s my Cap’n,” he explained. “Man must have ice water in his veins if he’s plannin’ on just sittin’ there drinkin’ all evenin’.” He pressed his knee warmly against my thigh. “Myself, I got other things in mind, if you’re willin’.”

Now, mind you, I do this for a livin’, do it every night a the week ’ceptin’ Sunday, often do it several times a night. It’s all just work, or so I thought. But ai ya, if the man comin’ on to me wasn’t startin’ to rattle my composure. I could feel the deep, winding ache low in my belly and knew I was gettin’ wet, somethin’ don’t much happen for me anymore.

“These other things you’re thinkin’ on - I’m assumin’ they might require a little more peace and quiet.” My eyes suggested all manner of willin’.

“Don’t necessarily gotta be peaceful,” he chuckled, “long as there ain’t nobody shootin’ at me. I do hate tryin’ to take my pleasure when some hún dàn’s shootin’ at me. And whatever quiet there might be to start out with, I don’t ’spect it to stay that way for long.” He grinned suggestively, leaning back in his chair.

I rose and took his hand. ”I’ll bet I got just the place for most anything you might enjoy.”

When the man stood, I realized with a gulp that my head barely reached the middle of his chest. “Lead the way, Miss Lily,” he prompted, and so I did, heading through the crowded bar and up the well-worn stairs to the small room I rent from Tyson, the barkeep.

We reached the doorway and I fumbled in my purse for my key. His big hands slipped ’round my waist and I felt the towering bulk of him, warm and insistent against my back. He nuzzled my hair and whispered, “Bet I got just the key for your da men, little Lily.”

Wasn’t much question ’bout that, given what I could feel. I unlatched the door and pushed it open. “Gimme a minute, “ I asked him. “I’ll get us a light.” I took a match from the box on the small washstand by the door and lit the candle next to it. The fluttering yellow flame danced and popped, then settled into an even, amber glow as I turned and drew him into the room.

“Don’t take to folk walkin’ in when I’m occupied,” he stated, and latched the door behind us, surveyin’ his surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. “No window to worry about, although that don’t give you much in the way of options if anybody comes bustin’ down that door.”

His wariness told me all I wanted to know about his past.

My room’s small, plain but reasonably neat. Got a chair, that washstand, a trunk, a dressing mirror and an old iron bedstead, painted yellow. The plank walls and ceiling used to be whitewashed but that’s mostly faded. I got tired of the floor bein’ cold and finally put down a worn old wool rug patterned with flowers. Not a bad place and lots better’n some.

I set my purse on the washstand and pointed to a coat hook mounted on the wall near the headboard. “You can hang your guns up there.” The big man nodded; some fellas get right tetchy if their guns ain’t close t’hand.

Turning down the coverlet, I was grateful I’d changed the sheets earlier in the day. Behind me I could hear the clank and jangle of his gunbelt as he unbuckled it and lodged it on the wall hook and then his hands again clasped my waist.

“You are a bitty li’l thing,” he whispered and bent to nibble at my ear. His hands slid upward and gently cupped my breasts -- so many fellas maul ’em -- and his soft touch was a pleasant change. The graze of his thumbtips made my nipples tighten and I shivered involuntarily. Noticin’ my response, he murmured, “That’s nice.” His voice was low and gravelly, thicker with his needfulness. “Lotsa girls just go through the motions but that ain’t what I want.”

Right then, I had a hunch there was more to this trick than ruttin’ for the coin, just layin’ back while some yokel banged away.

He turned me to face him, his eyes all earnest. “I know this is a job for you an’ I ain’t nobody special, but how’s about this once, let’s us both just do whatever feels good.” I sighed as he combed through my hair with rough fingers and realized I’d unconsciously leaned into his touch. “I do somethin’ you don’t like, you tell me,” he said. “Tell what you want, too.”

I ’bout laughed aloud, wonderin’ if the big man was makin’ a joke on me. One look at the expression on his face and I realized he was completely sincere. I couldn’t help smilin’. He had no idea how remarkable his words was.

It struck me then that neither of us had brought up the question of payment, and I figured that if he hadn’t asked, payin’ when his play was over wasn’t gonna be an issue. My hands slid under his shirt and skimmed through the crisp, dark hair on his tight belly and hard chest. He cursed softly when I raised up on tiptoes to worry at a nipple through his shirt. His hand slipped ’round my waist and pulled me against his quickly hardening jiba, and I felt my center tighten in response.

“Aaahhh…” I sighed against him. “Best get these boots off ’fore we go too much further.”

“Now that’s a plan.” He settled his bulk on the mattress edge and I knelt before him and unbuckled his gaiters before unlacing his boots. He leaned back on his elbows, studyin’ me through dark lashes that lay heavily over those wicked blue eyes. I slipped his boots and socks off and set them beside the foot of the bed.

“Undo your gown,” he told me, and I loosened the shoulder clasp that fastened the front to the back so that the silky fabric fell and pooled around my hips. The sudden chill made my nipples rise and a soft, lewd smile crept across his face. He tugged his T-shirt off over his head, then began to unbuckle his belt.

“No. Let me.” I put my hands over his.

He looked at me steadily. “Fair ’nuf.”

He stood and I settled my weight back onto my haunches, feeling the sweep of my hair brushing the crest of my rump. My thighs were already sticky. I uncoupled the well-worn black leather from the heavy steel buckle, enjoying his anticipation and buildin’ my own, then slowly unbuttoned the waistband of his pants. His cock strained at the fabric, the bulk of it a stony ridge from crotch to hip. He groaned as I nuzzled my face against him.

Unzipped, his pants settled to his ankles and he kicked them aside, watching my reaction to his da diao with hooded eyes. Downstairs, out-of-tune music started up and a woman laughed shrilly.

“What d’ya want, girl?”

“Ain’t that the question I oughtta be askin’ you, mister, since you’re the payin’ customer?”

The merc chuckled. “I am, ain’t I?” He looked down at his jiba and grinned. “Well, in that case, how ’bout you givin’ this ol’ fella a little attention. Been awhile since he’s seen anything ’side’s my right hand and your mouth’s one helluva lot prettier.”

He wrapped his fist around his cock and slowly and deliberately milked the length of it, drawing a glistening droplet of moisture to the slit at the tip where it glittered in the candlelight like the gem between my breasts. I swirled my tongue over his cockhead, enjoyin’ the salty-sweet taste and musky smell of him. His eyes dropped shut and his hips arched helplessly, driving his diao further into the heat of my mouth.

At first, I feared he’d grab my head an’ fuck my mouth hard, but once I realized I could trust him to let me breathe, I relaxed. The juice he was leaking and my spit made him plenty slick, so I wrapped my hands around him and swallowed as much of his length as I could, teasing him with my tongue on each outstroke. “Ai ya, that’s nice,” he groaned, gently rocking his hips in time with my strokes. I get a lot of johns who want kou jiao, but not many make it good for me, too. Why ain’t more of ‘em like him? I wondered, rubbing my lips and face against his sex. You’d think they’d realize it’s always better when both folks is enjoyin’ themselves.

He widened his stance and let his head drop back, giving himself up to the pleasure flooding through his magnificent body, one hand braced against the foot board of the bed, the other gently tugging his ballsack in rhythm with my strokes. Soon his breathing and the tension in his body told me he was gettin’ close to comin’, so I was surprised when he gently cupped my face and eased himself free of my mouth.

“Your turn,” he announced and raised me from my knees, laying me back onto the bed. “Scoot on up there…” He grinned and nodded toward the head of the bed.

Leanin’ back on the pillows, I smiled suggestively at the big man and sucked on my forefinger before slipping it between my nether lips. He watched silently for a few moments, slowly stroking himself, and then settled on his belly ’tween my knees.

Now, the other girls and I do this for each other from time to time, but it ain’t often I get a john who’ll make love with his mouth like that big fella did. He had to know I was plenty ready for ’im, but he took his own sweet time, his breath hot on my quivering skin, the rasp of his whiskers on the insides of my thighs rough and luscious. He eased me open and feasted on me like a starvin’ man as I shook and bucked under his eager mouth, finally crying out my release against the background of laughter and honky-tonk piano.

When he raised his face from my nethers, he licked my honey from his lips. “Damn, you taste good, girl.” I was panting too hard to reply.

“I can live off canned food and gorram protein powder for months if I gotta, but ain’t nothin’ tastes as sweet as a woman.” He bent his mouth to my center again, and I gasped and squirmed under his tongue, craving more. My hips canted upward, and I groaned softly with the magic his hand was working, two fingers gently strumming deep in me, his thumb on my aching clit.

That whisky he drunk hadn’t dampened his ardor none. Turning, he made his way up my belly, licking and biting and sucking, until it seemed like his hungry mouth was everywhere. When he cupped my breast and his tongue rasped over my nipple, I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped me.

Let’s us both just do whatever feels good.

His words echoed in my head. Weren’t often I got the chance to enjoy myself with a customer. Truth to tell, I was more often doin’ my best to imagine I was somewheres else while they humped away and grunted out their spend. His play was sweet, but what I really craved right then was to settle myself in the saddle and ride that big fella like there was no tomorrow.

“Come’ere, you.” I tugged at him and tried to pull his face up for a kiss. I was surprised when he turned away and shook his head.

“Don’t do no kissin’,” he muttered.

Ain't no accountin’ for folks’ tastes and I sure wasn’t about to complain or ask him why. Instead, I rolled him onto his back and slung a leg across his big body. He grasped my shoulders and pulled me close enough that he could continue to mouth my breasts while I ground my nethers against the hard length of him. We rocked against each other, teasin’, until he finally asked me, “You ready, gal?” The glint in his eyes left no doubt that he was.

By then I wanted him bad. “Oh yeah,” I told him.

I braced one hand on his chest and squatted over him, then reached down between us and positioned him at my da men. His thick jiba felt like a bar of red-hot iron. The sense of fullness was almost too much and I closed my eyes to concentrate on opening to his girth.

“No, Lily,” he growled. “Look at me. I want ya to look at me while I fuck ya.”

What the customer wants, the customer gets, so I found myself starin’ down into those fierce beautiful eyes a his as a rude grin eased across his face.

I slowly settled down onto him, thankful for how wet we both were. His big hands splayed out across my hips, thumbs rubbing circles in the hollows of my hipbones. With a shift of his pelvis, he urged me to move. And so I rose and fell as he buried his cock as deep as he could drive it. The ruttin’ was good and it wasn’t long before he spoke up again, his voice thick with desire. “Ain't gonna last long this first time but don’t you worry none. I won’t loose my steam.” Understand now, most men don’t stick around for a second fuck. Once they get off, they’re ready to haul up their drawers and skedaddle, which is fine with me. I can get cleaned up and back downstairs, just tryin’ to make my coin like all the other whores.

Since he seemed about ready to come, I focused on doin’ what felt best to me, rockin’ an’ workin’ him and soon we was both cryin’ out our pleasure. I can fake it with the best of ‘em, but that time was for real and true.

As we both shuddered in the aftermath of our tussle, he pulled me down against his big chest and I could feel his heart poundin’ hard against mine. “Oh yeah,” he murmured, “that was what I was needin’.” Then he softly nuzzled my hair and it was almost like I could feel him grinnin’. I pushed myself back up with my arms so I could look down at him and he just smiled, like a big kid on Christmas mornin’.

“You’re lookin’ mighty smug, there, mister,” I teased him.

“Got good cause to, don’tcha think?” he sassed back and rocked his hips for emphasis. It was about then I noticed he was still plenty hard. I guess I musta looked surprised ‘cause his grin just got wider. “I told ya,” he crowed. “Takes more’n one round to finish ’im off when I been out in the Black a month or so.” He thrust up into me as if to make his point. “I’ll pay ya for the second, in case you’re figuring I’m looking for a quantity discount rate.”

Well, I got tickled an’ while I was gigglin’, he rolled me over onto my back and knelt up between my thighs with that muscular body of his just glistenin’ in the candlelight. “You best hang onto that bedframe for all you’re worth, sugar, ’cause I aim to plough you good.” He stroked himself a few times and then tucked my feet up over his shoulders. Wet as we both was, he slid right in and he felt good. With each thrust, he did something with his hips, kinda hookin’ up inside me, and it wasn’t more’n a couple dozen thrusts and I was comin’ again and yellin’ my head off.

With him usin’ the bedcovers for leverage and pounding away, pretty soon he had me jammed up against the headrail of the bed and the whole thing rockin’ like a ship in a gale. Soon as he realized, he slipped his arms under my back and scooted me back down, just shifting me around like no more’n a sack of laundry. Sure was nice havin’ a man who had some skill at sexin’, not to mention plenty of stayin’ power. It probably was a good forty-five minutes later when we finally wore each other out.

I suppose we mighta both dozed for a few minutes, then he turned onto his side and idly trailed his palm down my flank. The candle had guttered out, so I couldn’t see him. Just felt him big and warm beside me. “I ain’t due back at the ship ’til daylight,” he said. “How’s about I just pay you for the night? I’d just as soon not have to get my ass dressed and back across town, if it’s all the same to you.”

I yawned and stretched. “Sure,” I chuckled. “I can’t blame ya none for that. ’Sides, if the truth be told, I heartily doubt there’s anybody downstairs can hold a candle to what you just give me.” I rolled on my side and he snuggled up behind me and we fell asleep.

That big fella must be mighty good at bein’ sneaky, ’cause he was long gone by the time I woke up. Never did get his name, neither. Still, he was good to his word. Left me a hundred cred bill under the candleholder, about twice what I was expectin’. Left a lot of fond memories, too. Wherever he shipped out to, I hope the whores there enjoy him as much as I did.




Sunday, November 23, 2008 11:15 AM


How wonderfully Jayne. I always thought he would be a good lover. Smiles happily and your descriptive skills. I agree about work computers.

Sunday, November 23, 2008 5:44 PM


Seems our Jayne is a man of many talents. Not that I'm surprised.

Monday, November 24, 2008 3:22 AM


This just goes to prove what we all saw in 'Heart of Gold', with the whore he spend so much time with. And I think we all agree anyway, since virtually all of us writers have Jayne being a considerate lover, and a welcome visitor in any of the houses he frequents.

Oh, and I'm just glad no-one can overlook my computer at work ...

Thursday, August 25, 2011 7:15 AM


had lost my bookmark to this one and am sure glad I found it again. Love the way Jayne is portraied here and of whom we saw a little in heart of gold.


You must log in to post comments.



A Different Point of View
Increasingly frustrated with her limited love life, Kaylee puts her creativity to good use and sneaks a peek at the big man across the hallway.

How A Gun Is Like A Woman
A late night gun cleaning session has Kaylee looking at Jayne Cobb in a new way.

Show and Tell
An unexpected change in circumstances on Serenity cause Mal to reconsider the concept of family. One-shot, post BDM.

Growing up isn’t easy, and that first step to independence can be a big one. Just ask Kaylee Frye.

What’s to Understand?
A little one-shot snippit in which Simon learns that that love can manifest in unexpected ways.

A thoughtful Jayne Cobb reflects on how his life has turned out.

Big Fella - 1/1
Jayne Cobb makes quite an impression on a “working girl” from Albion. Thought I’d post this over the weekend 'cause it’s most definitely NOT workplace safe.

Give and Take
A little scene from “Our Mrs. Reynolds” that we don’t get to see in the episode, wherein Jayne contemplates the fine art of barter.

Handle With Care
Jayne’s up late, cleaning his gun, and can’t help appreciating a late night visitor.

Taking Up Arms – Part 3 of 3

Jayne and Kaylee set out to establish a new life together when Mal joins the Rebellion that follows the Miranda announcement. The big man must reconsider his solemn vow to Kaylee to hang up his guns when Alliance raiders hit the rim world of Ezra.