Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Whittaker, Maxx

  “You taste fucking delicious,” I say, the memory of her pussy still so fresh it makes my cock throb thinking of it. In fact, I want more, need more. Fitting my hands between her belly and the tops of her thighs, I pull her back, back, until her ass is curved over my face. Her pussy stretches up, tight and almost quivering, and above that the little star stretches wide between the perfect curve of her ass.

  “Oh no,” she laughs. “Said it was your turn.” And before I can do anything, respond, attack her with my tongue, she dives down, takes my cock in her mouth. This time, she doesn’t hesitate, and my entire length passes into her mouth and deeper until her lips press at my base and my head hits the back of her throat.

  I cry out, raising clear off the floor.

  She holds like that, not gagging, my length deep inside her. She’s warms, tight, and her tongue runs along the top of my cock, pulling me closer with every little pass. When she pulls back free, she comes slowly, letting her lips drag along every inch of me before the head sucks free with a little pop.

  “Holy… Holy fuck,” I manage.

  “I used to practice that, too,” she whispers, taking my head between her lips to demonstrate. She slides down, then back, words coming between passes. “Hours where I’d imagine my toy was real…” Suck. “…hours where I’d imagine what I’d do to someone like you…” Suck. “…I’d take it deeper and deeper, longer and longer…” Suck. “…until I could do this.” She takes me deep, deeper than even the first time, so far that her top lip touches the base of my balls. It’s so fast, so sudden, that I can’t help falling over the edge, and as she pulls free I cum, violently, hips bucking as I pump into her mouth.

  Even as I cum, as waves of ecstasy wash through me, I pull her back, over my face and her pussy swallows my ragged gasps of her name. I bury my face against her, bucking, still pumping hot down her throat as my tongue ravages her, presses hard against her clit. She cums suddenly, hard, hips slamming down against my face as the last pump leaves my cock, and she moans from deep in her chest, never pulling my me free from her mouth.

  When we both finish, still, we hold like that for a long moment, as if afraid of breaking some spell. Her mouth is hot on my shaft, and I can feel the tacky wetness of my cum still in her mouth. Her pussy rests on my lips, still twitching in little aftershocks of orgasm. We rest like that for a long time, not wanting to part.

  But finally, she does, sliding my cock from her mouth with one last, vulgar pop. She sits, stretches, dragging her pussy across the stubble of my chin one last time before turning, sitting next to me, hands never leaving my skin. Her eyes dance wickedly as she makes sure she has my full attention before she finally swallows.

  A long bead of cum drips from her lip, and she licks it away slowly, before settling back. “So much,” she grins. Then she bends low, kisses me. She tastes like alcohol and cum and pussy, delicious, enough to make my cock throb in answer.

  She catches it out of the corner of her eye. “Whoa. Already?”

  “Levelling up has perks, apparently.”

  She opens her mouth to answer but her words die against my lips as I sit, kiss her so violently our teeth clack together. We laugh into each other’s mouths, but I press the kiss, don’t let her away, and our mouths don’t part as I pull her, hooking my hands in her gun belt, the only clothing she still wears.

  When she’s on her feet, she reaches behind to unlatch it, but I bat her hands away. “Leave it on.”

  “Ohhh… Dirty,” she says, stepping back, hands to her hips. “I love it.”

  She backs all the way to the window, naked aside from the gun belt, and for the first time I really let myself feast on her body. Goddamn. Her curves are perfect, and she’s just tall enough that she’s somehow a little plump and lean at the same time. At some point her hair’s come free of the band Astra put it in, and onyx and violet locks cascade down her shoulders, obscuring her chest. She stands tall, unshy, her gaze challenging.

  “You are stupid beautiful,” I say, shaking my head.

  She does a little pirouette, pausing so I can see her little robot tattoo.

  “He’s from… Oh!” She stops when I’m close, when her hands are on my chest. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”

  My lips on her neck pull a little gasp from her, and her fingernails rake my back. “In case I forget to tell you, after, you’re pretty fucking gorgeous, too.”

  I smile against her chest. “I know.”

  “Ooh, insufferable,” she laughs before squealing as I spin her in place, so her hands brace against the window.

  I rest my chest to her back, pressing up so the head of my cock just barely parts the lips of her pussy. The drug in the alcohol has worn off, and though the world feels less intense, it feels better, too. Her hitched breathing against my chest, the heat radiating across my shaft, the sound of her breath as it fogs the window.

  “Anytime you need me to slow down, to stop, just say so.”

  “I won’t.” She says it like she means it.

  That’s all I need to know. I press upward, and her pussy is so wet there’s almost no friction as I slide deep inside her for the first time.

  Her fingers tighten against the window, so hard they pale. “Ohhh, God… Ohhh, Sam,” she whispers as I come to rest fully inside her delicious heat.

  I hold like that, buried deep, my lips at her ear. “Did you ever imagine this part?”

  She turns, gives a little nod, teeth buried in her lips. “Vibrator did not compare. Which is saying something.” She pitches her voice low, so it sounds like an informercial. “Designed by a team of four women, including a sex therapist, for maximum pleasure, the Alpha Vibe is all the man you will ever need.” She laughs, shakes her head. “They were so wrong.”

  “Should have had a man on that panel,” I say, thrusting the tiniest little bit to emphasize.

  She gasps, and her pussy clenches tight against my cock. “Goddamn right. Fuck the Alpha Vibe,” she says with a little laugh.

  That she can joke now, with me buried hilt deep inside her, and after everything we’ve been through… Well, shit. I think I might be in love.

  Mika turns her head, taking me in with one half closed eye. “Gonna talk, or are you gonna fuck me?”

  I answer with my cock, pulling almost completely free from her before sliding back deep, a long thrust that pulls a deep moan from her.

  It’s an unspoken cue, erasing all slowness, all gentleness. I fuck her hard, as unrelentingly as I imagined before, thrusting so fast and deep that my balls slam her clit almost painfully. My name rings from the walls as I bend her at the waist, and she braces her hands against the glass, head lowered.

  I take her gun belt in my hands, using it for leverage as a yank her down the length of my cock over and over, long, steady thrusts into her heat that drive all thought, all rationality for me. I’m nothing but need, for her, for her pussy. She slams back against my pelvis hard enough to bruise, taking us further and further to the end.

  The long length of her back is my horizon, and beyond that, infinity. Staring ahead, I can’t see the edges of the glass, the room behind us, creating the illusion that we stand in the middle of the universe, joined as we float in the void. Millions of pinpoint stars wink back at us, and I’m so lost in pure sensation, in the delicious heat of her pussy on my cock, that the world ceases to exist. There’s only the endless nothing, the planet below, and the two of us.

  “Sam, Sam, ohhhh God, Sam,” Mika pants, pussy so tense I know she’s close. Somehow, despite finishing only minutes before, my cock is as hard as it’s ever been, a piston that comes almost completely clear of her before thrusting back deep, over and over. She’s so perfectly tight, so warm, I can’t take anymore.

  “Mika!” I moan, and with a ragged gasp I bury completely inside her, shuddering as waves of pleasure course through me and streams of hot cum pump deep inside her. Her answering orgasm shudders her body, and the only thing that holds her up is my grip, one hand on the gun belt
and the other around her belly as I bend double, nosed buried in the sweat at her back. She cums hard, milking me, and I feel every wave of her pleasure through the lips of her trembling pussy against the base of my shaft.

  When it’s over, we fall in a tangle, my cock sliding free, all slick limbs and little gasps. I rest my back against the window, take her in my arms. She snuggles into me, burying my nose in her hair and the scent of roses. She heaves huge breaths, hand against my chest. “Sam…” she whispers.

  “Yes?”

  “That was… Perfect.”

  “You’re perfect,” I tease.

  She shudders, a little aftershock of pleasure. “Better first time than I ever imagined.”

  I sit her up, and she pushes hair from hooded eyes. “Ten and a half hours left. Ready for that date?”

  Her eyes descend, and I cough as her hand closes around my cock. She laughs. “We can eat later. Like you said, there’s ten and a half hours left. I’ve got something else in mind.”

  ***

  Astra sits in a high, red backed leather chair in her opulent study, fingers extended, flicking and dancing in the still air - alone, as always.

  Her senses extend to every corner of the Citadel, every nook and cranny, measuring, testing, and when she’s sure all is right and ready, she relaxes. All is normal; the trials have adapted to the aspirants’ memories and fears, and though the clock ticks, there’s still plenty of time. Nearby, the Shepherd prowls, a tireless process built of chaos created to cull. A process that is, thankfully, shackled.

  Tied by the same rules as she is. That’s all they have in common.

  Astra sighs, opens her silver eyes, and curses those that created her.

  The only place she hasn’t monitored is the respite area. A wild desire fills her to approach them, engage in more conversation. She’s not very good at it, yet, but the need to connect is so palpable that she feels it as a physical pain.

  Or, what she thinks of as her body. In reality she’s nothing more than an impossibly complex series of lines of code, built for a singular purpose. She knows everything she feels is an illusion built by human hands, but to her, that doesn’t matter. What she feels is real to her, and the why of it ceased to matter long ago.

  As for the memories locked inside…

  No. She pushes them away. Not now.

  Astra extends her senses, the barest whisper of a painter’s brush, to see how the Aspirants fare. To see if they might be open to conversation.

  She draws back instantly, closing the connection. Her image of them is brief, a flash of tangled limbs and moaned imprecations as 2239 – No, Sam – drives into Mika’s core. Astra doesn’t look again, doesn’t invade their privacy; she respects their need, understands it, even if every part of her aches with renewed loneliness.

  Creator, how she misses him. Wishes she could forget his hands in her hair, his lips on her breast, biting, begging, licking.

  No, she doesn’t. That wasn’t her. Was it? She doesn’t know him. Has never met him. He might have been dead before she was even created. Time was so confusing.

  With a growl, Astra casts away the illusion of her study, dispersing it in a moment of anger and fear. It is unnecessary, having quarters; her existence doesn’t require physical trappings. She can manifest to the doomed souls summoned to the Citadel, become tangible; she can even create a little world for herself. But it is still a facade, a reminder of the humanity she so desperately desires, for the connections she can’t experience.

  Forget it.

  Something passes; time, a process cycle, some measurement of progression.

  Astra tries to forget but she can’t. Mika’s name on Sam’s lips, his fingers digging furrows in her soft thighs… Astra can’t erase the memories, memories that mirror ones buried deep in her processes.

  She is cursed to remember and to want.

  This is good, Astra tells herself. Necessary. The Aspirants’ trust in each other is vital. Time has run down for everyone left. Worse, the Aspirant pool has dwindled. Sam and Mika are the most promising subjects to pass through the Citadel in a long time. Perhaps ever. If they fail like the rest…

  Never mind that. Not now. No use in worrying.

  There will be plenty of time for that, soon enough.

  ***

  “How did you die?”

  I don’t know why I ask this now. There’s so much about her I don’t know, and not just surface level shit that doesn’t matter. Deep stuff. Does she have siblings? Is she religious?

  Does she snore?

  But I don’t ask any of that. It doesn’t matter, not now. Not with what’s changed, passed between us. Those things feel incidental; comparatively little minor traits I’ll learn if we survive this place. No, something deeper has passed between us, and it’s not just that she lays naked next to me, her soft, sweat slicked skin hot against mine.

  No, it’s more than that. Things she’s said, hints about her life before this. A mirror of what I felt before I died, something kindred. That’s why this is the only question I can think of as her hot breath feathers my chest. Is she like me?

  Mika is silent for a long time, but she’s not asleep. Her heart beats like a hammer, and her eyelashes are the barest tickle against my skin when she slowly blinks. “You don’t have to answer,” I say, wondering if I’ve gone too far, too soon.

  “No, no,” she whispers. “Just… The last few days before I died were rough.”

  I don’t answer, let her order her thoughts. I dare a glance at the clock. Eighty-four minutes.

  We have time.

  We lay in a halo of blankets, pillows, discarded bottles, and half eaten food. It’s so ridiculous, like an episode of MTV Cribs gone wrong, but I don’t care. We’ve almost died multiple times, I had my fucking arms cut off, and we’ve been thrust into this place against our will; I’m a long way from giving a shit if I make a bit of a mess.

  Also pretty hard to worry about it with her wrapped around me.

  The last ten hours have been something like what I imagine heaven to be like; the best food and drink I’ve ever tasted, ridiculous opulence, soaks in the hot tub, bursts of conversation; all of it punctuation at the end of long bouts of learning each other’s bodies, of lovemaking beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. She’s tireless and endlessly inventive, kinky without pushing into the bizarre, and I’m game for every minute of it.

  And now we rest, finally exhausted, pushed over the edge after fucking in the hot tub, something I can’t believe I’ve never experienced before and is now something I’m not sure I can go without.

  “I told you my parents were strict,” she begins suddenly, startling me from memories that have already driven me dangerously close to forgetting what I’d asked her. “…but I probably didn’t do them justice.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You have no idea.” She sighs, a long exhalation that I can’t hear but can feel against my chest. “They weren’t bad people. I loved them. Just getting that out there. But it’s been… rough. I don’t blame them, even if I hated them sometimes.”

  “What happened?”

  “Started when I was four. They lost my older brother.”

  “Died?”

  “Yeah. I don’t remember much, just have distant memories of him singing to me, holding my hand when we crossed the street, stuff like that. But it devastated my parents. Only son and all.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Not just his death. They blamed themselves. They were strict, even then, but not nearly like they are now.” Her fingers trail long paths through the hair on my chest as she speaks, intimate, mindless touching. “He was fifteen. They hadn’t planned on having me, not so late after him, but shit happens. Anyway, he snuck out, went on a joyride with a friend. Motorcycle. They lost control, went over a bridge.” Her voice is perfectly neutral, controlled, but I can feel the dull pain in her words.

  “I think I see where this is going.”

  “Yeah. They b
uried their grief, devoted themselves to their work, and me. Or, my incarceration. We moved, far enough away that everything was different. San Francisco. They didn’t have much of a marriage after that, and I didn’t have much of a childhood. Went to an all girls school, as I said, got driven to and from every day. Spent most of my time on my studies, didn’t really have friends. Well, not until they bought me a laptop in high school. Probably the only thing that saved me from going crazy.”

  “Saved by the internet?”

  “Totally. Luckily, they weren’t too tech savvy, and it wasn’t hard to fool them into thinking that Wikipedia and news sites were the only places I visited. Got a Facebook, Tumblr, started drawing and sharing my art. It was all terrible, before you ask, but it was an outlet. My community was small. Good people that kept me from going crazy. Got really into gaming. Discovered other places, Reddit and Imgur. Pornhub…” she continues, voice going husky, trailing her fingernails down to the base of my cock before laughing and scratching her way back up.”

  I cough, surprised that after so much… exertion, I’m still ready for more. That she is. “What happened next?”

  “High school mostly sucked, but after was worse. Parents wouldn’t let me apply at any university further than driving distance from home. Then college turned into You’ll find a nice boy .” She laughs bitterly.

  “How?”

  “They’d pick him, when it was time.”

  “Huh.” I keep my mouth shut on this.

  “I’d had dreams for a long time of leaving. Maybe going to New York, to my cousin Aikari. Even applied to a tech school in secret and got accepted.”

  “Whoa. Good job.”

  “My parents found out. They were quietly furious, in Japanese fashion.” She shook her head. My father decided online courses from home were a generous compromise.”

  Frustration knits my shoulders. A lot of it focuses on Mika’s parents but some of it… I’m just not getting the totally passive girl she’s described.

  “Why didn’t you leave? Why did you just… take it?”

  “I don’t know. I loved them. I know why they were the way they were. I was afraid of breaking their hearts. And if I’m honest… I’d been on lockdown so long the world was kind of… Overwhelming. Terrifying, even.” Mika sucks in a ragged breath. “But I was fucking lonely. Soon, worrying about them… It wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to hurt them, but I couldn’t live like that anymore. Always at home, staring at pictures of places I wanted to go, living a fake life on the internet.”