Threshold Volume 2

by Shelby Morgen

  “Damn you!” Gethla screamed, leaping off the Chroan and facing Gray head on. “Damn you for making me question myself!”

  “Damn you for giving in to them!” The combination of frustrated anger, uncertainty about his position in this place, and his strange attraction to this weird female was taking its toll on his usually calm demeanor. And now it seemed an argument was just what he needed to relieve his tension.

  But as he stared at her, her eyes narrowed in anger, almost like a cat’s. Her chest heaved beneath her robes, her aggressive stance, he felt his plan backfiring. More blood rushed to his cock and it began to throb with his rapid heartbeat. Damn, it was official. He wanted her.

  “I do what I have to do to survive!” she screamed, stepping forward as if she was going to do him some bodily harm.

  “That is a nice excuse for a while, but when you have options there are no excuses.”

  “What do you know of it, Gray? What do you know about survival?”

  “I know that I’m worth a lot more than what’s hanging between my legs. And honey-pot, I have been there. I’ve sold my body to many a bastard just to be able to afford a value meal. I know what I’m talking about.”

  “Sold? This is not the same thing! This is survival!”

  “And that’s what I told myself when some fat fuck was thrusting and humping over me. Or beating the hell out of me with a belt and calling me by his son’s name before he reamed my ass but good. There is survival and there is living. So what are you going to do?”

  That gave Gethla pause. She didn’t understand by half what he was speaking of, but she knew that it was not good. Still, she had the survival of her own people to think of. It was not just herself. “I have to think of more than my own needs.”

  “As did I,” Gray growled, stepping closer, feeling heat of his arousal grow. “As I had to if we were going to survive, and it killed me inside.”

  Silence.

  “Why am I wasting my time with a pink-haired idiot with a Joan of Arc complex?’ He turned and made his way to the nearest boulder. “Martyrs are such bores.”

  Damn her anyway, he cursed as he stalked away to some semblance of privacy. Not willing to see what’s before her own two eyes. His erection was pounding painfully.

  As soon as he was free from the feel of her gaze on his body, he whipped the robe aside. His fingers were shaking, his body trembling as his need made itself known. He had never been one to deny himself pleasure before, and this period of celibacy was grating. His body was confused, about as confused as his mind.

  Relief! He looked down at the swollen purple mass between his legs. He whimpered as he ran his finger around the base of the steel-hard cock. He sucked in a deep breath as a shock of pleasure shot through his chest, making his legs weak. He was going to do it. He was going to beat off in the middle of nowhere and nothing could stop him. But the sound of a sandaled foot on the sand behind him made him aware he was not alone.

  So. She still wants to come and play. Let her watch all she wants. He threw back his head and moaned as he let his hand drift below his throbbing cock to cup his achingly full balls. He felt a flash of excitement, and his knees began to tremble as he spread open the robe. His free hand tore at the ties that held it together. He let the silken material fall open to frame his body like some exotic drape. Leaning his back against the boulder, he let his hand travel over his chest, stopping to pinch at his nipples, making his hips arch up into the warmth of his loose grasp.

  “Yes,” he whispered, the sound of his voice making his heart race. The knowledge that she watched made his blood pulse all the faster. “So long, it’s been so long.”

  He reached up to grasp a handful of his hair, running the soft mass around his chest, centering on his nipples before he stopped, letting the silken strands flow around his chest. His free hand went to his mouth, his fingers gently caressing his lips as he would a lover’s.

  “Mmm,” he purred as he let two of his fingers sink into his mouth, down to the last knuckle, sucking slowly as he moistened his digits. Then the fingers, glistening with his saliva returned to his nipples, creating a more pronounced reaction as he again tugged at them, turning them into hard nubs of desire.

  The hand cupping his balls tugged down slightly, causing a whining sound to explode from his chest at the slight pleasure pain, before his fingers slid back an inch further, touching the hot flesh just behind his sac and pressing his prostate externally, spreading his legs to grant himself easier access. “Umm.” He moaned as his body responded, sending endorphins rushing through his bloodstream and heightening his arousal .

  With his head rolling back against the boulder, his fingers left his nipples to caress his washboard abs, tracing around the slightly harder skin of his tattoo before tugging a bit at his navel ring. His other hand slid up from behind his balls to dig his nails into the skin of his thighs. A sheen of sweat broke out across his body. Slowly, his hands rose and lowered, tickling and caressing, meeting at the swollen cock that now dripped a clear and steady stream of pre-cum around the purple head.

  He shuddered as the hot flesh of his cock was met by the slightly cooler and rough caress of his hands.

  “So good,” he muttered as both his hands fisted around his long hard cock, squeezing lightly at the base while smearing the falling pre-cum as a lubricant over the swollen shaft. Slowly his hands began to pump, starting at the base and tightening up as they reached the throbbing head. Again and again he repeated this until the pre-cum flowed like a faucet and his fingers began to glisten with his fluids.

  He groaned, closed his eyes tighter, arching his hips into the caress, forgetting he had a voyeur looking in on his act of self-pleasure. One hand drifted again to cup his balls, tugging at the swollen orbs while his fist moved at a faster rate.

  “Yes,” he muttered, his body shuddering as he felt fire lick through his lower back and blossom in his stomach. “Mmm.”

  His head rolled back and forth, the long inky strands of his hair sticking to his chest as his movements intensified. “Harder,” he gasped to himself, the hand cupping his balls moving to his abandoned nipples, stroking and pinching, sending more sensation shooting through his body.

  “Good, so good!” His mind began to spin and lights flashed before his eyes. He forgot about where he was and what was happening. All that mattered was the extreme sensations flowing through his form, shaking his body and his very soul.

  “Mmm,” he growled, his hand pounding at his cock, the skin burning beneath his fingers. His muscles locked, freezing him into a near painful arch as his balls slammed to the base of his cock and he felt the almost ticklish sensation that signaled his immediate release.

  A flash of yellow eyes and bright pink hair intruded in his ecstasy. In his mind’s eye, he saw her face, open in its eroticism, her mouth slack as she shouted his name in climax.

  “Gethla!” he roared, his cock pulsing in his hands as stream after stream of white-hot cum exploded from the tip, coating his hand with the scalding juices, splattering the sand between his legs.

  His body slumped.

  What did I just say?

  Then he heard the small moan and sigh from behind his not-so-hidden private boulder. He’d forgotten the lady of the fantasy was watching, and now probably knew how he felt about her. “Damn,” he whispered as he milked the last few drops of semen from his still hard cock. He opened his eyes. She was standing before him, her gaze glued to his hand where he still cupped his turgid length.

  “Want a taste?” he offered, his sarcasm rolling strong.

  “Can I?” she asked eagerly, her eyes shining.

  Shaking his head, he released himself and offered her his semen-coated hand. Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue and tasted a small sampling from Gray, her eyes watching his face as she tried this new experience. But soon her curious expression twisted into one of displeasure as she got her first taste of his alkaline saltiness.

  “And people sometimes swallow this
?” she asked as she turned her head to the side and spit, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

  Gray exploded into laugher as he shook his head and began to straighten his robes. “It’s an acquired taste,” he snickered as he rose to his full height. “Did you enjoyed the show, or do you want me to go again? I used to get paid for doing this, you know.”

  “I…” She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and stared at him, her eyes shining with desire. “I wanted to let you know that I think we should camp here for the night.”

  “And you couldn’t call that out? You had to come over and tell me face to face, so to speak?”

  “I, well, I heard you and I wanted to see. It looked so exciting, Gray. It was beautiful and it made my thighs tingle. I think my body has prepared itself for possession, though I am not at liberty to have you now.” With a sad sigh, she turned and began to walk away.

  “And what did you learn?” he called to her retreating back.

  “That men are lucky to have an outside appendage, shouting is very exciting, and the taste is acquired. Can I learn to do that, Gray? Is there a female spurting?”

  “Um, yes, but the mechanics are different.”

  “Can you show me?” She stopped and turned to face him, her curiously aggressive stance back as she regarded his half clothed body like he would eye a steak at this very moment. The best description would be hungry.

  “I could.” He walked toward her, his hair flying free around his body, his robe alternately hiding and showcasing his assets, his skin gleaming with it slight sheen of sweat. He stopped right in front of her and leaned down. His warm breath washed over her face as a sudden wind blew strands of his hair across her body, bringing with it the scent of raw sex and hungry male. “But then I would have to take you, and that would interfere with your survival plans.”

  Gethla felt her left eye twitch in irritation. She had to suspend the sudden urge to reach out and sock the man in the stomach as he headed toward Zy, who stared at the humans as if they were the biggest cosmic joke ever.

  Suddenly, the survival of her people didn’t seem all that important.

  “Shall we camp?”

  Gethla moved to assist in setting camp, ignoring the leaking wetness between her thighs as well as the tight longing in her heart.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grey stared at the small hideout the rustlers had created for themselves. At the moment there were only three men there, if you wanted to call them that. Their hair color ranged from bright orange to auburn and each was amazingly tall and slim. They all looked so…effeminate, he decided. Like a drag show gone bad.

  Two were dressed in those long robes that Gethla sported, but the robes the rustlers wore were a deep brown and not very well cared for. The men also seemed uneasy, nervous, almost humping at shadows, like a lot of cocaine users he knew in the past.

  “What’s wrong with them?” he asked as Gethla sidled up beside him, anxious to get a closer look.

  “The urge.”

  “The urge?” he asked, still confused.

  “They desire to mate, to release the hot blood from their thievery, I imagine,” Gethla informed him, nibbling on her bottom lip as she lost herself in thought.

  “How do you know?”

  “My father and his partner acted this way when they returned from a successful trade. I know the look.”

  She gazed at him, a sly smile spreading across her face as she stealthy viewed his body. She wondered if she would carry that look if they could save the Chroan.

  “So where are the rest of them? Were there only three?”

  “I think there were more, Gray. We gave chase to four men.”

  “Okay, four men and three here. We should assume that there are at least two more out there somewhere.”

  “Maybe taking care of that hot blood,” she nodded.

  “How?”

  “There are places nearby, Gray. A male can pay for what he wants.”

  “Oh.” That shut Gray up. These people seemed to have reverted to something like the Wild West, so why wouldn’t there be saloon or houses of ill repute? Prostitution was bound to crop up where there was a shortage of mate-able women and lots of…hot-blooded men.

  “That may work in our favor. We need a distraction.”

  Gethla turned to look at him. He didn’t seem like much, she decided, but he sure spoke like he knew what he was talking about. “Why?”

  “You need to get their attention, to get them up here so we can knock them out. Once they’re out cold, we can take back your bugs and be a long way from here before the others return.”

  “But we don’t know when the others will return, Gray. We don’t even know how many are out there.”

  “Do you have a better idea? I know it’s a bit rushed, but we have to act when we’re given the opportunity.”

  Gethla thought about that, then nodded. Who knew when there would be this few men left to guard the Chroan? They had to take whatever opportunity they had, and just deal with the consequences. “How do we distract them?”

  “Easy! They’re hot blooded. You go pretend to be lost. Just get their attention and then run back up here. I’ll knock them out or you can use that energy bow thing, and then we get the Chroan and make a break for it.”

  “That will not work.”

  “Why not? What do you look like under that thing?”

  He picked at the sleeve of her robe, grazing her skin and sending shafts of heat through her arm.

  “Ashamed, are you?” He pricked her vanity and he knew it. But he needed her to show some skin to draw their attention. That, and he wanted to see what she looked like under those robes. As an artist, his imagination was good, but he wanted to see the real thing. It had been a while since he had his hands on some good honest feminine flesh and he found that he missed breasts a lot.

  “I am not!” she hissed back before she crawled back to a safe distance and stood up to her full height. “I have a very nice body!”

  There was a flurry of material and the robe slipped over her head to puddle into a soft heap at her feet. Gray’s eyes bulged as he took a look at what his little Pink Hair had been hiding all along. “Boobies,” he sighed as he stared at the small firm breasts held fast by a tight band of blue.

  Her skin, a dusky brown shade with a slight olive tint, seemed smooth and supple to the touch. And how he did want to touch. Her waist was trim, flowing into a set of hips he just wanted to slip between. His eyes slowly followed the curve of her naked flesh until the small loincloth she wore wrapped around her hips blocked his view.

  But that was okay too. It looked very jungle girl, a favorite fantasy of his. Her legs were long and sleek, her thighs muscled from riding, he presumed, and her stance slightly aggressive, just the way he liked them. He bit back a groan as he felt his heart thump in his chest. Gethla was the perfect combination of feminine beauty and physical strength.

  “It won’t work,” she said again, a faint flush reddening her cheeks as she read the hunger that seemed to swelter within his eyes.

  “I would go for it.” Gray licked his lips at lusty thoughts crowded his mind.

  “It won’t work because they only go to women for progeny. For fun, most men like men.”

  Gray blinked twice. That couldn’t be right. They preferred men? “But…but…”

  “So it looks like you had better take off the robe, Gray. Guess who gets to play distraction?”

  * * * * *

  Gray looked helplessly over his shoulder at Gethla, who stomped her foot and pointed. “Go!” she hissed, ignoring his entreating look.

  With a resigned sigh, he turned to do his duty. Flinging his hair over his shoulders, he shook his bare chest and gave himself a small pep talk. This is no different than playing games with Carlos. Remember how you stripped to get through that rough period in college? Remember that bet you lost to Mary-Baby and had to do that damn bachelorette party? My God, I want to go home!

  But he plast
ered a fake smile on his face and began to make his way down the hill toward the hideout. The plan was simple. Get their attention, get them to chase him, get them knocked out, get the Chroan, and get gone. Easy. He could do this.

  With the top half of his robe wrapped around his waist, he put a little extra swing in his hips and strutted his stuff. It didn’t take long for the first rustler to notice him. “Excuse me?” he called out, sweat from both exposure to the sun and his nerves beading up on his well-muscled flesh, making his navel ring flash in the sun. “I’m a bit lost and I was wondering…”

  “What is someone like you doing out here?” the orange haired one asked as he rose to his feet and eyeballed Gray closely.

  “Who cares?” A Peach Haired male in braids grinned a gap-toothed smile, leering as he took in Gray’s form. “So long as he plans on staying for a while.”

  “I don’t like it,” the third Yellow Hair snorted as he glared at Gray.

  “I just need directions,” Gray snorted back, tossing his hair. He knew that his ebony hair was rare and exotic here, as were his purple eyes. He played both to his best advantage, as he looked down his nose at the trio of men who could actually look him dead in the eye without strain.

  He was kind of the short one here, and he hoped that played to his advantage. Men loved feeling bigger and stronger than any potential partners. Well, at least he did. He knew it was a safety measure instilled in him from his time on the street, but old habits were hard to break.

  “Directions to where?” Orange Hair asked, stepping closer and taking a big whiff of the air around Gray.

  “To the nearest village,” Gray answered, fluttering his eyelashes a bit. “My Chroan died a way back and I’m trying to get out of this heat.” As he spoke, he began to wave his hands in front of his chest, drawing attention to its muscular planes.

  Peach Hair licked his lips as he stared at the display, while Orange Hair ran his hand up and down his thighs, his thumbs outlining what had to be the biggest bulge in his robe that Gray had ever seen. He spent a few seconds being grateful that he was a top, before he turned his attention to the hard case, Yellow Hair, who still glared at him.