Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/J/J0190264.3

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 19.5 KB | 408 lines

     Dinner was excellent.  I imagine when you have to cook for
yourself, you either learn to live with it or you get better.  Rael had
clearly done the second.  Dagmar told me that Rael always cooked the
larger meals.

     "When do you have guests?"

     "When there's somebody in the recovery room."

     "Oh."  It therefore shouldn't have surprised me that the meal had
an abundance of heavily spiced meat, seeing as she was talking about
'cooking' for Unczia.  But Rael was enjoying himself, and he did cook a
dinner palatable to more delicate stomachs (like mine).

     Night came as it always comes on Pendor.  Mountainscapes and  cliff
faces do not bring on night any faster on a ringworld; the sun is always
overhead.  I know, I've written that before.  But I was born on a planet
and I know what a sunrise and a sunset are.  There are none here, not
the way most people know them.

     I sat quietly in the living room listening to the radio.  The
station they were listening to was a surprising mix of instrumental and
vocal rock'n'roll, with a heavy emphasis on groups like Madhsenger, Pink
Floyd, Jethro Tull, and Dire Straits.  More than half the music was
Terran, and all of it was heavy instrumentals.  I found it quite to my
liking.  I wrote down the index number for future reference.

     P'nyssa and Rael were in a corner talking.  Every once in a while I
heard a giggle or laugh, and I stifled an urge to turn and look, instead
concentrating on a book I'd brought, a novel by a Centaur author,
written entirely in Centaur.  Dagmar was off somewhere taking care of
her home.

     I must have been wrapped up in my story, because Dagmar walked in
and said "Hi.  Where are Rael and P'nyssa?"

     I looked up in bewilderment.  "I don't know," I admitted.  "They
must have wandered off."

     "Guiness," Dagmar said, addressing someone I had apparently not
been aware of, "Where's Rael?"

     A deep and soothing voice responded, "Rael has retired for the
evening with the young lady, Dagmar."

     Wow, that was quick.  "It seems, Lady Dagmar, that they have
discreetly snuck off, a discreetness blown by your AI.  And you haven't
even introduced me."

     "I am Guiness," said the voice.  "I apologize."

     "That's all right," I answered.  "Most people don't introduce an
AI, even when he or she is a member of the household.  Especially since
in some cases AI's cover whole townships, and it's assumed we've met
already.  Where are you?"

     "I am housed in an Magi, if that answers your question.  I am
service for the K'kritt household at the top of the ridge, the Rael
household, and the T'pawl household three hundred and thirty-seven
kilometers aspin of here."

     A Magi?  A flying GP construction system serving as a Majordomo?  I
suppose it's possible.  Never heard of such a thing before.  "I'm
pleased to meet you.  Who wrote you?"

     "I am a collaboration between Bawr Mahn Shardik and Freya Majors."

     "Wow.  Made by the best."

     "Thank you.  I'll relay your compliment to my mothers."

     "Do that.  If you'll excuse us, however..."

     "I understand.  You wish to speak as privately as possible."  There
was an audible .click., and the AI detached.

     I turned to Dagmar and said, "Fascinating friend you have there."

     "He's a monitor.  We don't ask much of him, unless it's to do
ambulance work.  You know."

     "So," I said, rather quietly, "what do we do now?"

     "Well, it isn't as if I can go to bed in my own bedroom."

     "Bed only sleeps two?"

     "Rael only sleeps two, I think," she offered.  "There's only one
guest bed, too."  She looked at me and said, "What's wrong, Ken?"

     "Nothing... I guess."

     "No, seriously."

     "Well, I guess I'm not used to being put in this kind of position.
The arrangement P'nyssa and I had at home allowed us to work around any
'special nights' we may have wanted to ourselves, and to others.  I sort
of feel like I 'have to' sleep with you, almost like doing stud service,
so Rael can have P'nyssa."

     "It's not like that at all."

     "Isn't it?"

     "Well, do you like me?"

     "Of course I like you, Dagmar.  You've been a perfect host, you're
very pretty, and you've welcomed me into your home.  Why shouldn't I
like you?"

     "Then why would bedding me be stud service?  It's not as if I were
hiring you.  You're not one of those people who excel at feigning
interest, Shardik, I can see that."  She rose from her rocking chair and
walked towards me, kneeling on the floor in front of my chair.  "Let's
try an experiment."

     "Like what?"

     "Well, why don't you start by kissing me?"

     "Why don't I... ?"  I looked at her, shrugged, and leaned forward,
kissing her quickly on the lips.

     She looked at me with smiling eyes and said "Not like that.  Try
again."  I leaned forward again, and again kissed her.  Only this time,
her tens came up and wrapped around my neck, keeping me in place.  Her
lips opened just slightly and I felt her warm tongue pressing against my
lips.

     I responded to he tongue, opening my mouth.  I could feel my heart
speeding up, responding to this new female, this new sensation.  The old
sensations of newness (does that sound strange to you?  It shouldn't)
made me feel warm.  I pushed off the chair and fell forward onto my
knees on the floor.  I was still raised off the floor while she had
settled; I was still kissing her downwards, but passion had taken over.
We were no longer merely experimenting.  Dagmar was right, this wasn't
stud service; this was sharing.

     We broke for a moment, settling back into our individual heaps on
the floor, looked at each other with mock guilty expressions and
sidelong glances, slow, knowing smiles, and finally as one we broke out
laughing.  "Okay," I said.  "Let's take this into the guest room."

     "O-Kay," she said, sounding each letter.  She rose and took my
hand, leading me into the back of the house.  Off to the left there was
a small room with a good sized double bed covered in animal fur blankets
(Which we wouldn't need.  The night was hot enough, and we were about to
make even more heat.)

     She literally pushed me down onto the bed, face up, and stepped up
onto the bed, kneeling over my body.  Her tens held my face and she
said, "Still feeling uneasy?"

     "Hell no," I said, reaching up to about where the biceps would be
on her and pulled her close.  The heat of her body was almost
uncomfortable, and I knew that we were going to be sweating soon.  The
thought made me smile.  She kissed me unabashedly, our tongues
wrestling.  But she was on top, and she took it upon herself to explore
more of me, I guess.  She slid down to my right and I could hear her
approaching my ear.  Her lips and teeth found it and began to nibble,
first and the lobe and then up along the ridge.  I squirmed under her
touch; I both love and hate to have my ears nibbled.  It feels great,
but it makes me lose all control.  She slowly slid down along my throat,
and her warm mouth left a light liquid trail that cooled in the summer
night.  It suddenly struck me that I'd left a blizzard behind back at
home.  I was glad I had.

     "You humans have such small ears," she said.

     "Is that a complaint?" I said.

     "No, no," she said through muffled kisses.  She was attempting to
unbutton my shirt.  I helped.  "Just an observation."  She got my shirt
open and began to run her tongue softly over my nipple.  I moaned
quietly.  She was driving me crazy.  "Do you like that?"

     "You have to ask?" I replied.

     "I guess you do," she said around her teeth, which a soft grip on
me.  I coughed suddenly; she looked up and said "What's wrong?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "Come on, Ken, I'm a healer, you can't hide that from me.  I
distinctly felt a choking sensation from you."

     I smiled and said, "It has something to do with my nipples.  I've
got no idea what it is, but when someone bites on my nipples too
sharply, it doesn't hurt, but I feel like I'm choking, or at least like
something's tickling the back of my throat.  It's my only evidence that
acupuncture works; my nipples are someway connected to my throat, but I
don't know how."

     She looked at me querulously and said, "I'm going to have to
experiment on you a little later." THAT sounded ominous.  "In the
meantime, I guess I'll have to find something a little less...
distracting.  Or maybe moreso."  She shuffled down and began to kiss my
belly.  It tickled, and I laughed.  She laughed along.  "Ticklish, are
you?" she asked with one of those voices that makes the victim say "Uh
oh."  "Just for future reference," she said, as if to reassure me.

     Her mit had found my pants and was rubbing my erection through the
cloth of my jeans.  I suddenly realized just how erect I was, and pushed
up against her.  She responded by undoing my zipper and belt and opening
my breeks.  My erection, freed of the cloth, slapped up against my
stomach.  "Anxious little fellow, isn't it?" she asked.

     "Very," I said.  At this point I wasn't unthinkingly lustful, but
she was very surely getting me there.  I decided it was time to stop
being entirely passive to this entire process and reached up to unlace
the overly long sark she wore, untying each delicate ribbon and then
pushing the sides away.  She let the shirt fall down about her tens.
Her breasts were small, like P'nyssa's... why was I making comparisons?
And the nipples were standing out firm and hard.  I reached up and
traced my fingers slowly around the exposed areolas, then down about the
fur undersides and up around the outside.  As I traced along her body
between her breast and her underten she shivered delightfully.  "I think
I've found a soft spot," I said.

     "Mmm, hmm..." she said.  I slowly traced along her body, finding
other little places that made her shiver or giggle.  She too was
ticklish.  I delighted in finding those places as she slowly stroked my
cock between her mits.  Her fur was an even light blue with an
occasional almost feline grey that was only slightly exposed above the
beltline of her shorts.  I wanted to see where that grey went to, so I
reached down for the buttons of her shorts and undid them when she
suddenly slid back away from my hands.  "Not yet," she said.  She pushed
away a little further until she saw lying supine on the bed.  She turned
around a little and said, "First, I'm going to have a little desert."

     She took my cock into her mouth and slowly closed down on it,
engulfing me.  I groaned with pleasure as she sucked on it, slowly at
first so that I almost didn't feel it, then with mounting pressure, her
mouth bobbing up and down.

     She stopped and backed an inch or two away, blowing cool air over
me, then again dunking my cock back into her hot mouth.  As she was
doing so, she slowly maneuvered her body until her hips were next to my
head.  I got the picture almost immediately and slid underneath.
Somehow in the process of all this she had managed to get her shorts
off, and the patch of grey fur did indeed go wrap between her legs and
up over her buttocks.  I found it very attractive.  I tried to
concentrate, but there was little I could do; Dagmar was turning out to
be an extremely skilled fellatrix.  And in this position, my cock slid
down her throat.  There was no warning; she simply engulfed my entire
member down her throat and stroked me there.  I groaned in appreciation
and with mounting fervor; I was going to come at any second.

     Dagmar apparently sensed this because she began to suck my cock
with complete abandonment, taking the whole length in swift strokes.  I
tried not to respond, not to push up, but it was hard not to.  I wanted
to come, and I could feel it rising.

     Dagmar slowed, and she was right, staving off my orgasm for stroke
after stroke.  There was no stopping it, I was going to come, but she
wanted me to grit my teeth.  She stroked, and I felt, I felt...

     I came, groaning aloud, and I could feel each shot of sperm load up
in my cock and then get squeezed out, the pleasure was enormous, the
relief equally so.

     After a few seconds of breathing hard, I reached up and pulled her
cunt down to where I could reach it with my lips, parting her labia with
my tongue to reach her soft insides.  I decided I couldn't really work
at this angle and said "Dagmar, wouldn't you rather lie down?"

     "If you like," she replied and turned over, lying down on the bed.
"By the way, did you like that?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

     "I'll show you how much I liked it."  I spread her legs and lay
down between them, in a position that I find comfortable.  I leaned
forward and kissed her cunt just at the very top, then realized that I
was neglecting parts of her.  I arose from my position to lean much
further forward, bending over to kiss her nipples, teasing them.
Turnabout is fair play.  I began to lick around the areolas, and her
groans grew louder as I progressed along her fur towards her underten,
where I licked softly.  She groaned.  I progressed down her side, and
she squirmed under my tongue.  I laughed and slowly made my way back to
her cunt, kissing her on the top where I'd started.  "You're a tease,"
she accused.

     "Guilty, as charged," I said, leaning down to part her cunt with my
tongue.  I wanted to get her wet, but her vagina was already dripping
juices, and I just lapped them up and spread them over the upper parts
of her cunny.  Her juice was thick and sweet, and I couldn't drink it
but I could certainly enjoy it like candy, licking enthusiastically.  I
dove in wholeheartedly, kissing and licking until I decided that it was
time to get serious; I brought my right arm over her leg and parted her
cunny, gently tugging up the hood covering her clitoris.  I licked
around it and she responded by telling me lick harder.  I complied,
directing my attention to her clit, licking up and down.

     Three hundred years of experience has not dimmed my enthusiasm for
going down, but it is plenty of time to realize that you can never
perfect the art; each woman is different.  I licked her as well as I
could, and she replied to whatever skill I have by saying "I'm coming...
a little harder..." and I replied, pressing in hard as her orgasm came
on.  A loud, low moan escaped her as she came.  I eased back a little,
but she pushed me away from her cunt and said, "Cuddle with me, Ken."

     I rose and lay next to her.  She wrapped her tens around me and
said "You're very good at that."

     "Thanks," I said, a little embarrassed.  Then I laughed.  "I hope
Rael and P'nyssa enjoy themselves."

     "Oh, I'm sure they are."  One of her mits snaked down over my side
and found my cock.  "What are you're chances?" she said as she slowly
stroked it.

     "If you keep that up, better than fifty-fifty."

     "Then let's make it a hundred percent."  She wriggled down the bed
and again took my cock into her mouth.  The talent she showed was
certainly deserving of my complete attention, and she did indeed soon
have me rock hard.

     She stopped and looked at her handiwork, then to me.  "Fuck me,
Ken," she asked.

     I didn't need to hear her a second time.  She lay down on her back,
and I slid into her the old-fashioned way, missionary position.  Her
cunt gripped me tightly and completely, and I abandoned myself to the
thrusting demands my cock wanted me to make.  I started out pounding her
and never let up.  I don't know what came over me, I just needed to fuck
Dagmar and fuck her hard.  She apparently was willing to comply, because
she simply started chanting, "Yes, yes, yes," like that with each
thrust.  My first orgasm had satisfied my immediate wants, and the
second was a long time coming.  She spread her legs a little wider and I
went a little deeper, long hard thrust sliding in and out of her body.
I was completely aware of everything, the speed, the fur of her thighs
and her mittens twined around my neck, her yellow eyes staring into
mine, her black hair twirling loosely over the blue fur of her face, her
breathing, hard and ragged.

     I thrust, and I could feel my orgasm rushing forward like a freight
train or a cybertank, and when I came I dove to muffle my scream into
the pillow she rested her head on.  I simply lay there, bent over her,
on top of her, breathing hard into her neck, feeling a few strands of
hair getting into my mouth as I inhaled and staying.  I licked at them
gently as I tried to clear my dry mouth, slowly rising from my position
to look at her.  "You okay?" I asked.

     "Oh, I'm fine," she said, her deep but feminine voice full of
passion.

     "Ready for bed?" I asked.

     "Yes, I think I've been worn out for one night."

     "I could go on," I said quickly.

     "No, no... that's alright.  I think we've both had enough for one
night."

     I nodded and slowly slid my cock out of her.  I shuddered at the
nigh-painful sensation, but then rose and cuddled her close.  After a
few minutes when the time seemed right, I rose and went to the bathroom.
She joined me, and there were a few moments of casual touching and
joking, like old friends and lovers, as we brushed our teeth and cleaned
up.  Closing the door and turning off the lights, we bedded down for the
night.

     It was a hot night, and we didn't cuddle close because of it.  But
I did hug her. And I did say "Thank you."


     The next day was spent in what was, for me at least, a most
unexpected fashion.  I hadn't anticipated coming to Rael's home to spend
four hours in surgery!  Guiness (He proved to be much larger than I had
thought...almost large enough to hold a spaceworthy drive) brought in
some idiot Unczit from the southern Unczia holding, not older than
twelve, who had gotten himself mauled by some large prowler, and Rael
and Pnyssa spent the next four hours in surgery trying to save the
Tsit's leg.  Meanwhile, Dagmar and I were kept busy patching up the ear
of the Tsit's elder, who had gotten a good chunk of his scalp removed in
the rescue.  Somehow, Dagmar's sense of humor combined with her
knowledge of English proved to be annoying; her choice of music was
selected bits from Monty Python, and patching up an angry and frightened
Unczia to the tune of "Every Sperm is Sacred" was difficult.

     But persevere I did;  I'm no slouch when it comes to the meatball
department, and this was only a missing flap of skin.  The eardrum was
intact, and Dagmar did most of the needlework.  I was grateful; it had
been so long since I'd done any sort of work that I didn't feel
qualified anymore.  I was determined to throw myself headlong into
refreshers when I had the time.  And when was that going to be?  Twenty
years from now, at best.

     The Unczit lived, but he lost the leg.  By Pendorian Unczia
tradition, there would be no cyborging and no replantation.  The Tsit
would simply wait until it grew back, which it would, thanks to the
changes I made to their genecodes three hundred years ago.  But that
growth would take three years, and in the meantime, the kid would
weaken.  He might never recover.  And unless he took his own life or was
killed by an accident, animal, or Unczia, he was immortal.  Never was a
long time.

     There wasn't much of the joyful noise we'd had the night before.
Dagmar and I comforted each other.  My penis had a mind of it's own and
rose to an occasion to which it was not invited.  I ignored it.


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