by Lisa Lace
Yarians were firm believers in the concept of flaura – lifelong mates bound by a spiritual connection. From an analytical standpoint, the idea appeared to be wishful thinking. On the other hand, everyone I knew believed in the flaura nonsense, my mother included.
Traditionally, when Keepers find their flaura, also known as settling for a mate, they are allowed to retire somewhere in the kingdom or on Luna Maris, one of Yaria’s moons and home to its Keepers. The kingdom gives compensation to married Keepers based on their field experience. Once they settle down, they are released from obligatory service and encouraged to start creating the next generation of Keepers.
More and more Keepers from my generation were choosing to spend the rest of their lives on the field, going through temporary partners like jugs of souza. Active Keepers lived a fast-paced life fueled on adrenaline and sexual debauchery. The lifestyle was addictive. I had never pegged myself as the type to fall for any of the flaura nonsense. As a matter of fact, I was known as one of the most depraved of the lot.
And yet, here I was, asking the question.
“Flaura?” Splynter snickered as his good eye twinkled. “How sentimental of you. Who would have thought you would ever come to me for a flaura reading?”
“Yes, it’s hilarious. But you still haven’t answered me.”
In response, Splynter opened the cylinder and tipped out a small mound of ghania leaves into the lid. He poured a bit of souza into the top, swirling it until fiery triple-lobed leaves floated to the surface. I folded my fingers, watching the oracle at work.
Splynter closed his good eye and tilted his head back. While he gripped his knees, humming throatily, his unfocused milky eye began to twitch and roll around. Without warning, the restless eye stopped moving and ended with Splynter looking directly at me.
He snatched up the lid and drained the liquid in a single gulp. He violently coughed as he held the cover up to his face and opened his working eye. I craned my neck toward him, peering into the lid.
“Move out of the way, puzo. You’re blocking my light.” Splynter examined the leaves, nodding wisely. “I see something in here.”
“What is it?”
“I see a cross,” said Splynter plainly, showing me the lid.
If I narrowed my eyes to slits, the wet leaves stuck to the bottom barely resembled a cross. If I left my eyes open, they looked like a tangled mass of vegetation.
“Is that it?” I scoffed, arching an eyebrow. “That’s all you have for me?”
“Aye.”
“When will I meet her? Better yet, how will I know it’s her?”
“All your answers are in the leaves.”
“Azgoth’s beard, you’re vague. What am I supposed to do with information like that?”
“Do with it what you will.”
“Right, thanks for nothing,” I grumbled, shaking my head. “But do you really think she’s out there?”
“She is,” Splynter confirmed. He rinsed out the lid and packed the paraphernalia into his sack again. “Now the real question is, if you want to find her, are you prepared to let everything go?”
“That’s a fair question, but it’s one for which I don’t have the answer.”
Splynter twisted the end of his beard, gazing at me thoughtfully. “Something else that disturbs you, doesn’t it? Have you no concerns about Twanda?”
My shoulders went rigid at the mention of her name.
“Thank you for your time.” I hopped off the barrel and cleared my throat, turning away from him. “Take it easy, brother.”
I was on my way to fetch myself another drumstick when a Keeper intercepted me. My eyes fell right to her pendulous, juicy breasts, which appeared to be spilling out of her unzipped uniform. The Keeper pulled back her hood, running her hand through her short crop of snow-white hair.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“That depends.” I grinned. “What can I do for you, Indira?”
“Krystal!” Indira waved at a group of female Keepers dancing by the band.
The prettiest one broke away from the pack. Krystal flipped neon pink curls over her shoulders and sauntered towards us. Her mesmerizing ass looked like two full moons, the skin-tight fabric of her uniform swallowed by each defined cheek.
“This may be hard to believe, but Krystal here has managed to survive almost two and a half decades without being intimate with anyone but herself.”
“Is that so?”
Krystal blushed, tearing her eyes away from me.
“I propose we do something to help Krystal out with her quandary.” Indira cozied up to Krystal, drawing playful circles on her neck with her fingertips. “Tonight is a night for firsts. Isn’t that right, Krystal?”
She nodded, looking up at us with a shy smile. I cleared my head and focused on her deep azure stare. As I felt my eyes begin to glaze over, I could hear Krystal’s thoughts in my ear.
Those eyes. Take me. Now.
As I tuned out of her scrambled thoughts, a half smile formed on my lips. My telepathic skills were rusty, but the fleeting successes worked well enough for combat. I had acquired the ability from Shamrock, one of the older Keepers, when I was a teenager.
Telepathy was an intricate skill only a handful of Keepers had ever fully mastered, and I still had a long journey in front of me. I tried to practice the skill whenever the opportunity presented itself. Without another word, Indira nudged me forward and took control of Krystal’s wrist. We ducked into one of the empty sleeping chambers, bolting the door shut.
Indira sat Krystal down on the edge of the lower bunk and sat down next to her. Krystal tucked her hair behind her ears, blushing furiously under the intensity of our stares. Recognizing Krystal’s nervousness, Indira took the lead. She reached for Krystal’s chin gingerly and pulled her closer, softly kissing her lips.
Krystal’s eyes fell shut, stirring for a moment before returning the kiss. She started slowly, the cot sheets crumpling under her fingers as she savored the taste of Indira’s sweet, full lips. My cock stirred at the titillating scene. I leaned against the bed post, stroking my hardening bulge as I indulged in the voyeuristic view.
There was a flash of pink as Indira slipped her tongue into Krystal’s mouth. Krystal groaned into the kiss, flicking her tongue lightly against Indira’s. Smiling through the wet tangle of their tongues, Indira took Krystal’s hand, guiding it into the unzipped opening of her uniform.
Krystal looked visibly tentative. She cupped her hand around Indira’s full breast, her throat quivering. She began to massage the globe curiously, pinching Indira’s dark, pert nipple between her fingers.
Indira broke away from the kiss, thrusting her chest out. “Not bad at all.”
She slid a hand behind Krystal’s head, lowering it towards her other breast. Again, Krystal obliged. Tending to the globe with both fingers, she caught Indira’s nipple in her mouth.
Dimples appeared in Krystal’s cheeks as she sucked, her hungry eyes peering up at Indira for approval. Indira turned to me, her coy smile stretching wider as she glanced down at Krystal. She inched to her right, making room for me on the bed.
Krystal’s breathing sped up as she remained sandwiched between us. With her newfound confidence, she kissed me with twice the intensity, all the while continuing to rub Indira’s thigh. I scraped my tongue against the roof of her mouth lightly, leading her hand to my bulge. Krystal took the hint. She sucked on my bottom lip, undoing my trousers with shaky hands. As Krystal revealed my rock-hard cock, Indira worked on the front of Krystal’s uniform. She pulled the zipper down to Krystal’s navel and eased it off her shoulders, exposing Krystal’s chest.
The half-naked women slunk off the bed and dropped to the floor, the tops of their uniforms hanging from their sides. I kicked off my trousers and stretched out my arms behind me, the pole between my legs taunting them. Surprisingly, Krystal made the first move, crawling toward me. She dragged her tongue from the end of my shaft to the moist head of my cock, keepin
g her eyes glued to me the entire time. I played with her earlobe, encouraging her.
Indira joined her between my legs. She cradled my sack in her hands and leaned forward, her tongue lapping up and down the length of my erection. I grunted, my cock throbbing from their determination to please me. Everything about them was different from each other – their curves, the shape of their breasts, all the way down to their olive and golden brown skin. The vivid contrast between these strong warriors on their knees, nursing my cock, was almost enough to make me come right then and there.
I removed the rest of Krystal’s uniform, motioning for her to get up on the bed. Indira took over between my legs. I lay back down, lifting Krystal off the floor and positioning her thighs by my ears. She lowered her wet pussy onto my mouth tentatively, the grip of her warm thighs tightening around my face.
As Indira devoured my cock, filling the room with sloppy smacking noises, I ran my tongue along the sticky lips brushing against the tip of my nose. I took a deep whiff of untouched sex, shoving my tongue between the lips greedily. Krystal whipped her hair head back, squealing.
I squeezed her ample ass and pried her cheeks apart. But as my fingers began teasing the puckered crevice between the crack, a shrill siren resonated across the chamber. All of us reacted simultaneously. Krystal rolled off me, and my cock slipped out of Indira’s gaping mouth with a soft pop. Exchanging startled looks, we frantically threw our clothes on and darted out of the chamber.
When we caught up with the rest of the crew, my hands turned ice-cold. In the wake of the sobering siren, the cabin had gone completely still. Suddenly, the speakers crackled, breaking the silence with a warning.
Thermal control system failing. Autopilot disengaged.
Botu, the starship captain, sprang into action, charging into the cockpit. While the rest of the Keepers behaved according to protocol, calmly filing down the stairs to the deck, Jethro and I ran in after him. Botu hustled, flipping switches and yanking levers to no avail. He checked the systems information screen and looked back at Jethro, his forehead glistening with sweat.
“The ship is failing. We need to make an emergency landing.”
“What are you waiting for?” Jethro’s eyes were wide with panic. “Save this ship!”
We slid into the seats behind Botu and strapped ourselves into the chairs.
Emergency landing activated. Destination: Earth. Landing will commence in five seconds.
Chapter Three
MICHELLE
A tingling warmth between my thighs woke me from my eight-hour slumber.
My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the morning light pouring in through the curtains. I sat up on the bed, my elbows sinking into the mattress. Tate’s striking blue eyes were gazing back at me from between my legs. I fell back on my pillows with a sleepy smile on my face. He tossed my white cotton panties over his shoulder, the tip of his tongue tasting me with slow, deliberate circles.
I let my eyelids droop shut once more. I pulled my lace nightgown to my neck and reached for my breasts, helping myself out with sensual gropes. But just as I was about to lose myself in the magic of Tate’s nimble tongue, he pulled away from me.
My eyes shot open once again. Before I could protest, Tate screwed his fingers into my hips and flipped me over in one rough motion. I buried my face into my pillow, a faint trace of my sleepy sweat wafting into my nostrils. My grumpy groans went unheard, bleeding into the fluffy goose feathers.
Tate gave my ass a loud, full-palm slap. Hearing him spitting into his hand behind me, I raised my stinging ass cheeks instinctively. I waited as he coated the head of his dick with his spit and shoved himself into me.
I winced, the walls of my pussy stinging from the friction of his movement. But gradually, the harder he drove his cock in and out of me, my juices started flowing. I turned my head, gasping for air and clutching the edges of my pillow. Strands of my hair clung to my flushed face.
Tate flopped on top of me. He intertwined my legs with him, weighing my ankles down. He then proceeded to pull my nightie over my head and press his sticky chest and hard stomach against my sweaty back. I yanked my hair out of my mouth, struggling underneath him to make myself comfortable.
Reaching behind me, I weaved my fingers through his and grabbed his hand. I slipped it under me, placing his fingertips on the pearl of my clit. Despite my evident desire, Tate rubbed me halfheartedly, quickly losing interest as he focused on his thrusts.
Sighing, I started to touch myself again where he had left off.
“Yeah, baby, I’m getting close...” he murmured.
Tate snatched up my wrists and pinned them to my sides. Hot sweat from his dripping chin struck the side of my face like pellets. I clenched my ass cheeks, defeated, crossing my thighs to help him to completion. When I felt his dick twitching inside of me, I loosened the grip on my legs. Tate ejected himself, towering over me as his milky emissions drizzled limply all over my back.
I blew a raspberry under my breath. Resting my chin on my arm, I hopefully waited for him to clean me off. Instead, he rolled off the bed and casually tossed a towel on me.
I sat up, bending my arm at an awkward angle to dab at the cum on my back. Tate got off the bed immediately.
“Wait, where are you going?”
Tate stopped in the bathroom doorway, looking back at me cluelessly. “I’m taking a shower?”
“That wasn’t what I meant.” I threw the towel aside, spreading my legs open suggestively. “Don’t you want to finish me off?”
“Oh, right.” Tate rubbed the back of his neck, turning away from me. “I’m still kind of wiped out from that meeting yesterday. Maybe later.” He sped into the shower.
“Never mind,” I grumbled under my breath. I pulled up the sheets to cover my body. The trusty dildo hidden in my panties drawer was better sex lately, anyway.
After a quick and silent shower, Tate and I dried off and headed out to the kitchen. The staff had prepared lavish trays of breakfast for us, putting them in the oven to keep warm. Tate grabbed his food and pulled up a stool behind the black soapstone countertop. He claimed the spot was in the optimal location to see the television in the living room, allowing him to appreciate every pixel on the giant screen.
“Honey, can you pass me the remote?”
“Sure.” I set my tray down on the counter next to him and handed him the control.
“Thank you.”
I marveled at my weekend breakfast, salivating at the sight of my food. The tray brimmed with sugar-glazed pastries, a colorful cheese omelet, diced fruit, and a steaming cup of tea. I dipped my pinkie into a tiny tub of grape jam, licking it off my finger happily.
“Breakfast smells fantastic. I wish the staff would stick around longer so I can thank them personally for cooking all this delicious food every day.”
“It’s all right, I suppose. The omelet’s a little bland,” Tate remarked with his mouth full. He switched on the television, selecting Time of Our Lives on the movie menu. “You probably won’t run into any of them soon. I pay them to be invisible.”
“That reminds me of something.” Taking a big bite out of my honey muffin, I walked over to my bag, which was hanging on the purse rack in our bedroom. I took out a beige envelope and returned to the kitchen, laying the package next to Tate’s tray. “I meant to give this to you a few days ago. It’s my payment for the bills this month.”
Tate peeked inside the envelope, raising his eyebrows.
“I wish you didn’t insist on paying half of the bills. You know I can handle everything for both of us.” He closed the envelope and casually tossed it on the stool next to him. “It’s been over three years, and I still don’t think you understand our financial situation. Why don’t you keep this and buy yourself something pretty?”
“I have enough pretty things, thanks,” I answered him flatly. “For now, this is an equal partnership, and I’d like to keep it that way. If I’m not going to pay for rent, you have to let me take c
are of some of the bills, at least.”
“All right, if it means that much to you,” he said quickly, pocketing the envelope.
“Thank you. I don’t mean to snap at you, but it means a lot to me.”
“Sorry, honey, would you mind keeping it down for a minute?” He put his fingers to his lips as he turned up the volume on the television.
Tate appeared on the screen, stealing the scene in a suave leather jacket. The camera zoomed close, enlarging Tate’s slicked back hair and pensive eyes. It followed him as he strode across the living room set. As a cheesy violin instrumental played in the background, a cute brunette in a shimmery gold gown rushed into the scene. She clapped a hand over her chest dramatically, her painted red lips quivering.
“Oh, Julian. You came back for me!”
“Of course I did, my love.”
‘Julian’ wrapped his arms around the brunette’s waist, gazing deeply into her soul. Next to me, Tate was mouthing along to every word on the screen. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, directing my attention to the rest of my muffin instead.
“But what about the race at Devil’s Peak?”
“Forget the race, Sally. No race is worth risking what you and I have together. When I’m out there, feeling the wind whipping in my face through the open windows, being one with the open road...I used to think that was everything I could ever want.” There was a dramatic pause. “But the truth is that all I want is you.”
As Julian and the brunette pawed at each other’s faces in true soap opera fashion, Tate beamed.
“Did you catch that, Michelle?” He poked me in the rib with his elbow. “I think that was one of the best lines of my career. How about you?”
“Absolutely.” I swallowed hard, the muffin suddenly making my throat feel dry and thick. As I reached for my tea, I decided a change of topic was in order. “Did you hear about the Yarian ship that crashed on Maplewood Ranch yesterday? It was all over the news last night.”