“Yes, Incunabula. You were impregnated, too. Unfortunately, you only carry two, while the other women carry one each. But it is enough for our race to continue and be nourished and raised by you on the planet Mofosa.”
“What right did you have? You never asked us if we were willing to sacrifice our bodies this way.”
“You agreed to give us the gift of copulating with our species. In return, we made sure your ship was repaired. We added a module that took your ship to Mofosa in much less time. You have only slept for two moons.”
Cassie thought for a moment, her anger slowly dissipating. There was nothing she could do about any of it now. It was done, and it was real. It was no dream.
She rubbed her stomach again. Within her grew two little alien babies. She wondered what they’d look like. They would be half human, half of whatever the ice people once were.
“Incunabula, we are deeply indebted to you. We cannot travel, because of our ice existence, but when these offspring have grown into adulthood, you will be sure to receive visitors on Mofosa.”
The screen faded. Stunned, they stared at one another, until Bob took command. “Well, seems our dreams were reality for a change. Hard to imagine, but I guess it’s true and we have the ice queen, Ytyru to thank for our lives. If that means raising a few offspring for them, so be it. What do you all say?”
“I say we get dressed and ready to shuttle down to Mofosa and check the place out. I know we’ve been gone from Earth for a long time, but I still hope we can colonize this planet so whatever survivors there are can start a new life here.”
“Aye, Aye,” they agreed in unison.
For a moment the screen flashed on and Ytyru’s face appeared, serene, a sweet smile on her face, as if she were watching over her children.
THE SCARLET STAR
The sky was painted in a medley of pastels, a colorful rainbow splitting it in half, its bright red, blue, yellow, green and mauve melding together as if painted on canvas. As Sharin embraced it she felt awed at seeing the bow so close. As a child she’d always wanted to see a rainbow up close, wondering about its colors, wanting to touch it, and now she had her wish. Puffs of pastel mellow clouds surrounded her, a soft, glowing mist enveloping her body in a warm embrace. It felt so good, so warm; it was almost as if she were one with the universe. She turned onto her back and lay gazing at the wonderful spectrum surrounding her. It was all so dreamy, so exotic and exciting. Moisture trickled slowly down her inner thighs as she embraced the ecstasy of heavenly love, of sublime heights, as nothing on earth could ever give her, had ever given her.
She ran her hands over her body, her skin smooth as the finest silk, glowing now just like the mist that stroked it. Thrill upon thrill coursed through her chest, down her abdomen to settle between her legs and caused her clit to throb in longing. She imagined a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, at the same time the feeling of running her hands through its shiny contents, its gold rubbing off on her fingers, shiny, exotic, the experience adding to the bizarre dream and her libido. She withdrew her hand and gazed at it, then rubbed some of the gold on her nipples, on her clit. Playing with the hard nub, she opened her legs wide and lifted her hips a little, opening the lips with her fingers. She tensed her abdominal muscles, sucking the warm air around her into her moist cunt, feeling soft puffs of cloud enter her, stroking the inner walls of her vagina, lubricating her, settling near her womb. Juices gushed over her hand, soaking her fingers. She withdrew her hand and held it up. Her normally pearly cum was now bright red and glowed.
All her movements were like quicksilver, slow, deliciously rippling across her body, touching, feeling, playing, and bringing her ecstasy almost to a burning peak. Rubbing the bright red liquid over her nipples, she brought a finger to her lips and licked it, tasting, sucking like a babe, savoring its honey sweetness—nectar from the gods.
A bright scarlet light lit up the heavens, its warmth beckoning, welcoming, long tendrils reaching out to her with a tender touch. She gazed at it with an intense longing and an urge to run into its waiting arms, its reaching fingers that stroked her, pulled her toward…
She didn’t know what, but she knew she wanted it, needed it. The scarlet light became brighter, so brilliant it hurt her eyes to look at it. It formed into a star and as it came closer she thought she saw the faint shadow of a man’s face in its center.
Slowly, her body started to slide down the rainbow toward the scarlet star. Her breath stalled, excitement coursing through her as she slid faster and faster, nearly, but not quite reaching the end. It was almost like the fastest roller-coaster ride she’d ever been on, except the sensations this caused within her were tender, devoid of fear, just causing an intense desire, a burning in her loins, a throbbing of her clit, her crotch aching with lust.
Her body sped down the rainbow toward its unknown destination. A spectrum of color swirled around her now as she crashed through layer upon layer of downy clouds toward that star, close, yet always out of reach as her hand tried to gain contact. Her long blond curls blew around her face, a soft perfumed breeze whipping the tendrils around her body, stroking her nipples causing them to rise, become hard pebbles, the aureole puckered. She heard soft music in the distance, a male voice humming a melody, one she knew but could not quite place. His voice was mellow, warm, husky, inviting and incredibly sexy.
The scarlet star faded slowly, and there he was, waiting for her at the end of the rainbow like a pot of gold. She gazed at a magnificent nude body. His skin glowed as if painted with the red sparkling stardust, his muscles of steel flexed, his proud face surrounded by a mantle of scarlet hair. He had a masculine face, a strong chin and sensitive lips that were slightly parted as if waiting for her kiss. His eyes glowed and raked her body. She squirmed under his hot gaze, almost feeling his touch, his cock reaching for her. She dared to look at that part of him and as she’d imagined, it was erect, large, pointing straight at her crotch, at her waiting pussy.
The slide down the rainbow seemed endless. She wished it faster, to crash into that magnificence waiting for her, but her wish didn’t work. Just as she seemed to reach him, he’d move back, fade a little. She tried to call out to him, beg him for release, for him to fill her, but no sound came from her lips.
Suddenly a loud bell disturbed the serenity. She looked around, annoyed at the disturbance and felt the rainbow disappear from underneath her. The beautiful spectrum turned an inky black and she fell into a dark void, faster and faster until her body spun out of control.
With a start, her body drenched in perspiration, Sharin sat up in bed and groped for the alarm. “Phew, what a dream,” she muttered as she hit the button to stop the annoying ringing. Turning on the nightlight she looked at the time. It was time to get up and get ready for work. She had the seven to three day shift and it was half an hour’s drive to get to the hospital, so she always got up at five in the morning.
The automatic coffeepot was steaming with freshly brewed coffee and she inhaled the aroma as she entered the kitchen. After quickly pouring herself a mug, she sat at the small table and while idly picking through the mail of the day before, thought about the strange dream. It had been too real and too erotic. She still felt the longing between her legs that needed to be satisfied.
Shaking her head, trying to erase the man’s face from her mind, she concentrated on the unopened mail. Most of it was bills but one letter glared out at her—a long manila envelope with fancy gold lettering in the corner. She put on her glasses and read the sender’s name and address. Devon and Marks, solicitors. “What the hell do I want with solicitors?” she muttered and impatiently tore at the envelope. “Probably advertising or something.”
A sheet of manila colored paper was inside. It, too, was inscribed with gold lettering. She skimmed over the words, then looked closer and read more intently.
Dear Ms Jackson,
It is with regret that we have to inform you of the death of your uncle, Lord Henry Wolter William Jackso
n the third.
As you are Lord Jackson’s only remaining relative and the sole heiress to his estate, we request you contact us immediately…
After reading the letter several times to make sure she wasn’t still dreaming, she put it aside and thought it had to be some joke. She didn’t even know she had an uncle called Lord Henry whoever. Her parents had her when they were older and had died in a house fire when she was still very young. Because her parents had no living relatives, she’d been placed with foster parents and grew up moving from one foster home to another. She only vaguely remembered them and because of the fire, she had no pictures to look at, something to remember them by. Her mother had been blonde, blue eyed and she remembered her father only as being very tall, their voices a vague echo in her mind. An estate? Could it be that she’d finally struck the jackpot? She shook her head, forcing herself back to solid ground. It was probably some broken down old shack in the country.
Sharin was too down to earth to believe in miracles and she abruptly drank her almost cold coffee, plonked the mug in the sink, and headed for the shower.
Hurriedly she showered, pushing all thoughts of her dream and the letter to the back of her mind. There was no time for idle thoughts or satisfying her lust. She needed to get ready for work.
But while sitting at the kitchen table drying her hair and drinking a fresh mug of coffee, her mind did dwell on the dream, then on the contents of the letter. She put the mug down and picked it up again. It was from England. She calculated the time difference. Far as she knew, England was nine hours ahead so if she called now, it would be three in the afternoon there.
Impatiently she maneuvered the blow dryer to dry her long hair. It was so long and thick, it always took her forever to get it dry, especially when the weather was as cold as it was now. She glanced out the window at the snowflakes steadily falling and knew the streets of New York would be white and driving would be hazardous, especially with her bald tires. Another problem she’d have to deal with. Taxis would be scarce. Her hair still damp, she put down the dryer and picked up her cell phone to call a taxi. The line was busy. Annoyed, she tried several times before she got through, and as she feared, she’d have to wait forty-five minutes.
“Well, that’ll give me time to finish drying my hair, get dressed and make that call to England,” she told herself. After her hair was finally dry, she braided it. Then she put on her uniform, stockings, shoes, and hung her coat over the chair so she could dash out when the cab honked. She glanced at the clock and saw she still had fifteen minutes before the taxi would come. She still had time to make the call. Glancing at the long telephone number on the letter she dialed it and heard the strange ringing tone at the other end.
A female voice answered. “Can I help you?”
“I’m calling long distance from New York. My name is Sharin Jackson and I received a letter…”
“Oh, yes, Ms. Jackson, we’ve been expecting your call. Just a moment please.”
She waited, at the same time muttering about long distance costs because the moment turned into minutes.
After waiting five minutes, a man’s voice greeted her. “Ms. Jackson. I’m glad you finally called.”
“Finally? I just received your letter yesterday.”
“That’s strange. It was posted three weeks ago.”
“It’s almost Christmas. Mail is slow at this time of the year.”
“I suppose. Ms. Jackson, I wonder if it would be possible for you to come to England to settle the estate.”
“Huh? Just like that? I have a job and…”
“We’ll arrange everything for you.”
“That’s fine, but my job…”
“Ms. Jackson, I don’t think you understand. You are the heiress to a large inheritance. You won’t need your job any longer.”
“That’s what you say. How do I know this isn’t some kind of joke?”
“Ms. Jackson, we are a reputable firm and…”
She started to giggle. “I’m sorry. It all sounds too fantastic. You read stuff like that in romance novels.”
“This is not a laughing matter, Ms. Jackson.” The voice at the other end sounded annoyed, stern.
A thought flashed through her mind. The rainbow, the scarlet star. Did the dream have a meaning? Bright things at the end of the rainbow? A pot of gold?
“Ms. Jackson?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just a tad much to digest.”
“We’ll start making all the arrangements at this end. If you can be ready to leave tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? You’re kidding, right?” She could have bitten off her tongue when she heard his annoyed snort.”I’ll see what I can do.”
“A travel agency will be in touch with you later today.”
“But…”
“We shall see you soon, Ms. Jackson.”
A click and the phone went dead.
She stared at it dumbfounded, numbed, until the tooting of an angry horn startled her out of it. “The taxi…dammit. I’ll have to pay him and cancel. I have to call work…” After grabbing her purse, she rushed out the door, down the stairs and almost broke her neck on the icy street as she rushed to the taxi to pay the man for his needless trip. Shivering, she rushed back into the building. It was frosty cold and she wondered what the weather was like in England, if it was snowing there, too.
Once back in her apartment she turned up the heat and called work. “I’m sorry, but I have to take off until January,” she said. “A family emergency has come up.” She wasn’t lying either. She didn’t even know the uncle had existed, but according to the solicitor he was family.
“I must be out of my mind,” she told herself as she picked up the letter again and stared at it. “What if it’s some kind of hoax?”
* * * * *
But it wasn’t a hoax. Within days, she found herself in the lap of luxury in an elegant suite in a posh hotel. A black limousine had picked her up from the airport and whisked her off to the hotel in the midst of London where a letter awaited her welcoming her to England, and instructing her to come to the solicitor’s office the next day.
Sharin pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t still in the dream. It hurt, and she wasn’t dreaming. She twirled around and around the huge room and finally fell into a deep armchair, her head spinning. She gazed around the room, at the plush royal blue carpet, so thick her feet sank an inch into it, the gorgeous antique furniture, the gray velvet drapes. After the dizziness stopped, she got up and walked to the tall windows to gaze at foggy London. It was too unbelievable and it had happened too fast. She pulled off her sweater, undid the zipper of her jeans, peeled them off, and headed for the bathroom.
She gasped as she saw the sunken whirlpool bath, the gold taps, large pale blue towels waiting for her on a bench, matching the shiny blue tiles. Oils, shampoo, a soft pale blue terry robe, everything she needed was there. All that was missing was a bottle of champagne. She stepped out of her g-string panties and was about to slide into the bath when there was a knock on the door. Hastily, she put on the robe and answered the door. All she saw was a huge basket filled with fruit, nuts, several bottles and chocolates. It hid the young lad behind it.
He walked into the room and set it on the coffee table. She hastily produced some money from her wallet. Unfamiliar with the currency, she handed him a bill and hoped it was enough of a tip. Apparently it was for he grinned from ear to ear as he backed out of the room, at the same time his young eyes appraising her body, his hips squirming uncomfortably. She suppressed a grin when she saw the black material at his crotch straining and wondered how old the lad was. He looked all of eighteen.
The door clicked shut and she noticed then that her robe had fallen open. No wonder the lad’s eyes had widened and openly admired her and his cock jumped to attention. She removed the cellophane and took out a bottle. It was the much wished for champagne. The basket also held two crystal glasses. She popped the cork and filled one of the glasses and carrying bo
ttle and glass, returned to the waiting whirlpool. She set the glass on the edge of the tub and the bottle and after removing her robe, entered the relaxing water. It bubbled around her and at first felt hot against her cool skin, but soon, she felt it soothe her tense muscles, her nerves, and she lay back and closed her eyes while sipping the champagne.
After she’d emptied the second glass, a delicious warmth filled her and she allowed her mind, now totally relaxed, to dwell on the erotic dream of two nights before. Again, she saw the man’s face, his hair, his eyes, his immense cock coming toward her, and she squirmed, this time allowing her hands to find her crotch. She opened her legs wider, put her heels on the edge of the tub, and played with her clit until it became a hard little knob and throbbed with need. She inserted her fingers into her vagina and twirled them, imagining them to be his fingers, his cock resting against her cleft, rubbing the lips. Her other hand massaged her breasts, pinched her nipples, and all the while his face was close, so close she could almost feel his breath against her lips.
She came with a gush, but release was only momentary, so she continued her play, wishing she’d brought along her gel dildo. But in her haste to pack, it was one item she’d not thought of.
The champagne was starting to go to her head after a third glass and reluctantly she left the tub and crashed on the soft bed, not even bothering to crawl under the down filled comforter.
When she awoke the next morning, she was rolled into a ball, the comforter pulled around her body. Somewhere during the night she had unconsciously covered herself. She stretched and wondered what time it was. Her appointment was at ten that morning. She lazily sat up and gazed at her watch and was surprised that it was near eight. She’d slept around the clock.
Rushing to the mirror she grimaced at her hair. By falling asleep with wet hair, it was now a mass of curls. She decided there was nothing she could do about it now, so she brushed it and pulled it back and braided it. Unruly ringlets escaped and framed her face. She cursed them. Why could she never portray elegance like some women automatically did?
Stardust, Starlust Page 10