by Jaye Peaches
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. “No, um. Quite the contrary. Impressive. Do you want to try for multiples, before, you know?” He scanned down his list, checking all the boxes.
Blake straightened up and scowled. He’d had enough. It was time to end the examination as Lysa had met all the necessary requirements. Her eyelids drooped—she was exhausted. “No, I damn well don’t. I’m taking her back to my pod and she can sleep. Then, when we’re both ready, we’ll fuck. For now, she can eat and rest. There’s plenty of time to take things further.” He whipped off the straps and eased her legs down.
“Thank you,” she muttered, struggling to rise.
He didn’t know if she was referring to her unbinding or delaying their inaugural sex. It didn’t matter. “I’ll help you dress. So far, Lysa, I think things are going well between us.”
Her eyes sprung open. “I do hope so,” she whispered. “I really do.”
Chapter Three
“I’ll make you something to eat.”
He’d deposited Lysa on the bed, having virtually carried her from the medical centre. She’d gone cold, so he draped a blanket over her. “Don’t go to sleep, not until you’ve eaten.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m wiped out.”
“Understandable.” He prepared a bowl of reconstituted pasta. Unambitious in the kitchen, he lived off dried food, as did many given the restrictions on food importation. Several times, while he waited for the pasta to swell, he nudged her, preventing her from nodding off.
“Sit here.” He drew out a chair and she slumped onto it, her face almost ending up in the dish of steaming food.
She’d survived on similar fare during her transit and she ate without commenting, spooning mouthfuls in quick succession. During the meal, she opened her mouth to speak, then sealed it around the fork instead. He pursed his lips and wondered what it was she wanted to discuss with him. Something that required her to be awake and alert or else why did she hold back? At some point he’d interrogate her in more depth.
Seeing her so exhausted, by both her journey and the extensive medical, he stowed his impatience, but how long did he leave it before he insisted on taking her? She needed sleep and he couldn’t bring himself to fuck her in a state of fatigue. She exhibited a strange mix of fragility and boldness. She’d argued with him and the doctor, but submitted to each stage of the gruelling examination. The woman continued to be the enigma he’d spotted on her videos.
“I’ve something to show you.” He fetched the small bowl from the kitchen area and placed it in the middle of the table.
Lysa’s face lit up—her sleepy eyes widened and she smiled. “Are these fresh?” She picked a small tomato from the bowl.
“Yes.”
She bit into the fruit and smacked her lips. “So sweet. How do you have this here?”
“I’ll show you tomorrow.”
She puckered her lips. “Oh, that’s not fair.”
“You’ll have to be patient.” He collected up the dirty dishes. “Lie down on the bed and sleep.”
Lysa slid back the chair. “Sleep?”
“Yes. Once you’ve rested, then we’ll resume our familiarisation.”
She tugged at a lock of hair, yawning. “You won’t touch me, while I sleep?”
Blake sensed her air of caution, vulnerability. Why wasn’t she offering herself to him, stripping off her clothes ready to please him? Instead, she seemed unable or unwilling to comprehend her situation. She was to be his and his responsibility and her reticence confused him, it also made him hot for her.
“No.” He gritted his teeth as she turned away from him and his restless cock moved in his pants. “Keep your clothes on.” When they were married he’d forbid her coming to bed clothed, for now, he needed her covered.
While she slumbered, Blake lay next to her keeping a safe distance. She purred as she breathed—a soft low growl of contentment and her unruly hair lay sprawled about the pillow.
He tucked his hands behind his head and concentrated on other matters. He’d been granted a few days off work to help Lysa acclimatise to her new life on the colony. Once they’d ironed out any potential grievances, they would attend the adjudicator’s office and sign the necessary documents. A wedding of sorts with a few chosen words for vows and the seal of approval by the Corporation. Not exactly the most romantic of occasions, but miners didn’t marry Corporate wives for romance. Back on Earth, the few women who’d drifted in and out of Blake’s life had given him solace but no love, and he’d given up on the notion of romance.
When Blake arrived at Colony 14 he’d assumed he’d cope on his own. However, coming back to his pod at the end of a twelve hour shift with nobody to greet him picked apart his resolve. Listening to his friends chatter about how their wives kept them charged with sexual energy, he pined for some kind of respite from the humdrum of life. Loneliness gnawed at his soul and the temptation bubbled over after Yuri suggested his threesome. Did he look that desperate? He must have done, leering at the other wives as they strutted about with barely covered arses.
Such fantastic arses too. He’d seen them bent over, leaning over tables and he missed the feel of warm, pliable flesh in his hands. Those parties he’d attended introduced him to new adventures, things he’d not thought he would enjoy.
He’d witnessed naked bottoms on other, more solemn occasions, but those were not appealing to his eye. The last time, he’d walked out as the constable wielded his chosen implement on the poor woman, punishing her for breaking one of the Corporation’s numerous rules. The husband stood by, happy to watch as his wife wailed and protested until she went quiet. The constable was a brute. A man nobody cared to socialise with or even enquire as to his real name. Rumours were rife that the bully got up to more than beating the wives, but as yet, nobody had accused him outright of improprieties. Fear kept mouths shut.
Blake turned on to his side, repressing the desire to spoon about Lysa. What would she make of the constable? Would she be an upstanding wife and keep out of trouble, save him the bother of disciplining her? Part of him ached to keep her safe and under his control, ensuring she behaved as a good wife should to their hardworking husband. However, nobody else would lay a finger on her. If it came to it, he’d do the deed himself and spank her arse to a fiery red if it kept her out of the constable’s clutches.
The image did him no favours. He sprung off the bed and elected to have a shower with the spray setting on icy cold.
He returned to stand naked by the bed. Lysa stirred, her eyes flickered. She blinked under the lights, stretching her arms above her head. The moment she focussed on him, she jerked, scrambling into a sitting position, clutching her knees to her belly.
“Lysa,” Blake gripped his thick cock, “please take off your clothes.”
* * *
Lysa sat transfixed by the man at the bottom of the bed. Previously, she’d guessed at what lay beneath Blake’s work clothes. Now, she could see him in all his splendour and splendid he was.
Muscles bulged out of him in every direction. No fat or undesirable flesh blemished his body. What greeted her was a man in his physical prime. The only unnatural part of his appearance was the tattoos adorning his arms and shoulders. An interweaving of black lines, blending into an abstract pattern allowing the marks to accentuate his biceps and pectorals. Her mouth hung open, stunned by the size of what lay in his loins.
Her heart thundered in her ears and she let go of her knees, unfolded her legs, and hooked her shirt over her head. Throughout her mechanical undressing her gaze didn’t shift from Blake. She measured him, trying to determine if she could even ring her hands around his brawny thighs. The slightest movement on his part caused his stomach muscles to ripple. In his fisted hand, he held his colossal erection. She gulped air into her lungs. How would she accommodate that! He stroked it, nursed it and the smooth head bulged expectantly, leaking pre-cum.
Blake’s face remained composed, but she could see his chest rise and f
all rapidly, as if he was holding back, clinging to some last residual of self-control. Saying no wasn’t an option any longer, at least if she wanted to carry this through and become his wife. If she said no now, the arrangement ended, came crashing down around her and she would return to Earth disappointed and gutted by her lack of courage.
Her trademark boldness needed to be strong. She didn’t fear sex; she’d used it before to her advantage. Seeing his fine manhood caused trepidation, excitement, and pulses of tingles burst about her wakening clitoris. Her belly flip-flopped with raw desire and her mind expunged rational thoughts, allowing her to release her wilder side. She wanted him.
What she did fear was marriage. Committing herself to years on a desolate moon with this man she’d met less than a day ago. How ludicrous would things get before she pulled back from the brink and chickened out? However, if she wanted the marriage to be a success, to achieve her secret goal, she needed to prove to him that she was capable in bed and willing to please. If she gave her all, won him over with her body, perhaps, she could open up and tell him the truth. Some part of him had to bond with her, see beyond flesh and blood to the thinking, ambitious woman who lay lurking beneath.
She dropped the clothes on the floor and kept her arms to her sides. Kneeling on the bed, she rose up and put her hands behind her head, parted her knees and stuck her breasts forward.
“I’m ready for you. Sir.” She added the honorific, hoping he would see her as compliant and not a potential upstart, because after they finished fucking—and she anticipated many hours of it—she would tell him everything, then he might judge her differently.
He removed his hand from his cock and it stood upright against his belly. The girth alone seemed impossible to withstand, never mind the length.
“Do you have lube?” She lowered her arms as doubts crept in.
Blake laughed. “Nope. There are other ways, aren’t there?” He raised his eyebrows.
Far from feeling insulted by his attitude, the lure of his handsome cock brought her out of her wavering. She giggled, an impulsive unintended attack of nervous energy. She crawled across the bed, dropped her mouth open and stuck out her tongue.
“Good girl. Finally, I get to see the horny Lysa. I guess that medical wasn’t as arduous as you thought.” It had been, but she said nothing. It was Blake and him alone who’d fired up her hot blooded lust. Blake may claim not to have been with a woman for months, but it had been several weeks since the last time she’d had sex, and that time hadn’t been very satisfactory for her.
She perched on the edge of the bed, reached forward and licked the tip of his erection. Blake came closer, grasping at her hair, he tangled his fingers in the strands and guided her deeper.
Lysa spluttered. “Sorry. You’re just so big.” She peered up to his face and he didn’t seem to have heard her, his eyelids half shut, he growled, a deep throaty noise like a bear. He pushed her head back down.
She managed, just, to coat his thick cock with her saliva. Each lick of her tongue transformed the dry velvety texture into a tasty moist one. She cupped his downy balls, massaging them in time to her bobbing head.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
Lysa’s scalp stung as he snatched her head up. She gasped for air before he plunged her back down. He filled her mouth with his cock and it took some concentration not to nip him with her teeth. The head of his erection brushed against the back of her throat. She gagged, flailing her hand about until he released her.
“Don’t worry you’ll get better.” He held her head away. “Turn around, kneel on the edge of the bed. I want to inspect.”
Her pussy clenched, an involuntary reaction. She knew what he’d find. She rotated and positioned herself on all fours, her lower legs sticking out of the end of the bed.
Blake grabbed her ankles and set her feet wider apart. She screwed her eyes shut. He separated her buttock cheeks with his thumbs, then ran them down her slit, separating her folds. “You are so wet, but I can make you wetter, then you’ll have nothing to fear when I ram my cock into your sweetness.”
“Oh God,” shrilled Lysa. His tongue! He rimmed her, tasting her secret places, lapping up her juices. He must have knelt or crouched to gain access and he didn’t hold back. He flicked the tip of his soft flesh over her clitoris, pinched the hood with his fingertips and assaulted her directly. Between licks, he spoke. “Don’t come.”
“Argh,” she groaned, thumping her fist on the bed. “No more,” she whimpered.
“I’ve just begun.” He slapped a buttock hard and she jerked. That hurt! A hand of steel and the heat of this stinging smack didn’t diminish, but bloomed.
He gripped her waist with strong hands. She braced herself, steadying her trembling limbs. The head of his cock nudge her entrance. She held her breath as he edged forward, pulling her back onto him. She couldn’t do it, the last stand of inadequacy caused pandemonium. She’d split apart, rupture.
“Blake,” she blurted. “I… I…”
He thrust, knocking her forward on the bed, only his steel-like grip stopped Lysa from falling on her belly. A moment of stinging pain as she gave, accepting his thick cock without resistance. A long sigh greeted her own shriek. He moaned again as he slid back, almost fully withdrawing. Trying not to tense, she’d insufficient time to recover when he thrust again, banging his hips into her bottom.
Deeper, much deeper, he speared into her. She clung to the bed sheets, hollering as her taut pussy stretched around him, protesting at his size. It hurt, but she didn’t care. She was so close to coming. Two powerful thrusts and she’d melted into a quaking mess.
“I’m coming,” she gasped.
“No!” Another thunderous slap of her bottom. The pain jolted her out of her climax before she could launch it.
Blake picked up the pace, pounding her remorselessly, beating her inner belly with the hard tip of his cock. She gushed about him as he met no resistance from her molten interior. She fought, not with Blake, but her inability to control her impending climax. Each time she implored, pleaded for release, he greeted her with an unyielding smack of his palm on her raised bottom. She didn’t understand why he wanted her to wait, why each slap made it harder to contain her orgasm. Far from feeling punished, his spanks egged her on, teased her. The pain she hated, but throbbing sensation built until the warm glow excited her sex and stiffened her nipples as they swung back and forth.
Perspiration dripped on her back, spraying down. He paused to stroke her back, a caress almost until he squeezed her shoulder, yanking her farther onto his cock.
“My legs,” she muttered. The strength ebbed in her limbs, any minute she’d collapse under him. He reached around her waist and circled a finger around her neglected clitoris.
“Oh fuck!” she screamed, coming instantly.
Blake went frantic as she clenched, contracted about his pummelling erection. Her hair tossed about her face and her legs gave out. She slumped forwards and Blake remained in her, clinging onto her as he pumped a load of his hot cum. She sensed the heat bloom in her belly as she spread-eagled on the bed.
She lay panting and when able to lift her head, she glanced behind to where Blake stood fingering his still erect cock. Beads of sweat trickled down his smooth chest and his damp hair glistened under the lights. He smiled—a generous one. He hardly seemed out of breath. God, the man was fit. How would she keep up with him?
He grabbed her ankles, flipped her over and pulled her down. Bending her legs back, until her knees touched her shoulders, he stood poised. He’d didn’t ask, he took. If she were sore, which she was, he would require her to withstand him. After months of celibacy, Blake couldn’t be stopped. She resigned herself to hours of fuckery. She didn’t care. She already wanted to come again.
* * *
The bed resembled a wreck with sheets rammed into the corners. Lysa lay next to him, eyes open, but mute, as if unable to speak. He kissed her nipple, sucking on it gently. She smiled—a sweet expression
of appreciation. He’d ravished her for hours, and now satiated and content, he took the time to show her his gentler side. He caressed her smooth skin, stroked her thighs and belly with a long sweep of his palm. She murmured, looping her arms about her head. He continued to pet her with light kisses, nuzzling her damp hair with his nose, smelling her delicious scent.
His cock lay limp, spent. She’d come alive as he tested her sexual prowess. He’d showed little consideration as he took her hard and long, commanding her to adopt numerous positions, which gave him great pleasure and her some discomfort. She’d grimaced at his actions on occasions, but it hadn’t stopped her from coming. She’d had many orgasms and he’d ensured that she begged for each one.
He gave her hip a slight shove and she obligingly turned on to her belly, snuggling her face into a pillow. Her pink bottom bore the legacy of his smacks. When he rested his hand on one buttock, the residual heat rose up to greet his cool palm. She hadn’t commented on his spanking, he didn’t expect her to, she must know he would exercise his rights. He’d not been harsh, if she yelped it was more from surprise than pain. It pleased him that she didn’t protest. He hoped her compliance would remain.
She wriggled her bottom. “Can I shower?”
He removed his hand. “Go ahead.” He watched her waddle over to the bathroom. A sheen of spilt semen daubed her inner thighs and breasts. He’d spilt over her as well as in, satisfying his craving to see her covered in his cum.
She returned a little while later and slipped on fresh panties, but no bra. She chose a knee length dress—he liked the snug fit about her hips. “Don’t wear those baggy pants again,” he said.
She shrugged. “I didn’t bring many dresses.”
“We’ll get more.” He patted the seat next to him. He’d dressed in her absence and waited for her on the comfortable sofa in the corner of the room. He’d laid out crackers, more tomatoes and a glass of water for her. She perched next to him, nibbling on the crackers.