And that was why the trilling at the door of her suite when she was between Room Service orders came as such a surprise. What could this be? Was it the hotel management, coming to inform her personally that her still-angry parents had decided to cut short her trip after all? Apprehensively she went to the portal, hit the command button, and let it slide open.
On the other side stood Tavos, dressed as he was when he first came to her on the terrace, as handsome and sexy as ever.
"You were not responding to your linker," he said before she could get a word out. "I was concerned. May I come in, please?"
In a hushed voice, she said, "Yes. Yes, please." And she stood aside and let him through the threshold, and let the portal slide shut behind him.
"Tavos, what are you still doing here? Why haven't you gone back to—?"
"My own planet? To a family and a tribe that will not be pleased to see me, even with the king's pardon? Neither they nor I look forward to a reunion. I am no longer a rogue and a fugitive, but even the decree of the king does not change what I did. I am still an absconder and a disgrace. Nothing awaits me at home but their shame, their tears, and their wrath. One day I shall return to Sarma, but not now. For now there is a galaxy out there and I am free. I think I should like to know what it is to be on my own in space and not looking over my shoulder."
Stacey sighed, happy for him if not for herself. "You stopped looking over your shoulder for a minute, and look what happened."
"That is not upon you, Stacey," he said. "My time would have come sooner or later, if not here with you, then somewhere else."
"It's very sweet of you to say that."
"It is true. And what is also true is that for as long as I may live, I shall never forget what you did for me. You hardly knew me, and yet for me you defied your lawmen and placed yourself at risk. This you did to help me, a rogue and a vagabond from a planet not your own. I shall remember your kindness and your courage for all the days of my life."
Stacey felt like crying. How could he say things to her that she could not believe of herself. "Will you also remember how stupid I was? And how thoughtless and reckless I was, and how I just flew off without thinking what I was doing and could have put myself in all kinds of danger? Because believe me, that's what I've heard from my parents—at the top of their lungs. And they were right."
"They spoke as parents do. You may rightly believe that what you got from them is as nothing to what I would get now from my own clan."
Now she felt like laughing through tears. "Look at us—a couple of rogues."
Tavos put his arms around her and squeezed as if to squeeze out what she had come to have lasered away. "You are the kindest, bravest rogue in all of space."
He broke the embrace and kept his hands on her shoulders. "Tell me," he said, "have you chosen not to have your laser surgery?"
"No, I'm still having it," Stacey said. "I've just put it off 'til tomorrow. I didn't want to go anywhere or be seen today. I still really don't want to see anyone after what happened. Except... I'm glad I get to see you now."
"I am glad as well. For I have not forgotten what I promised I would do for you when your procedure was finished. If you will still have me in your bed, I should still be very honored to shadaal you in your new body. In fact, I should also like to ask one thing more, if I may."
"What?"
"Stacey Fagan, if it would please you, I should like to be not only the first thing that your new body knows—but also the last thing that this body knows before it takes the laser."
Stacey's eyes bulged. She blushed and almost stammered, "You... you want to do it now?"
"Yes. And then as well. But first, now. May I lie with you in bed and be inside you now?"
Stacey touched his mesmerizingly handsome face and basked in the warmth and sincerity radiating from him. Only one answer was possible: "Yes. Yes, Tavos, yes."
He kissed her, the way he’d kissed her before in the wardrobe room. It was everything their first kiss was, and more—because this kiss was the preamble to the fulfillment of the sweetest promise that anyone had ever given her.
His clothes joined hers on the carpet of the suite, and at once he had her sitting naked with him on the bed. His mouth stayed with hers, and once again Stacey gloried in touching his body. This time, though, nothing was hidden and nothing held back. This time, what he had concealed in a satiny pouch was as free as the rest of him, and at her eager fingertips. It was long and thick, dark, warm, and fantastically hard. Foreskin hugged its head and its tip gave forth a glistening bead of slippery wetness. Bulging from its root was another bounty of softer, succulent flesh. She stroked and squeezed and played with his sex, dizzy in the sensation of what she had wanted for so long. As his hands roamed over her body in these last hours of her roundness, she let her lips slide from his long enough to whisper, "It feels so good, Tavos. It feels so wonderful."
Licking at her lips, he whispered back, "It will feel more wonderful yet when I lie atop you and put it in your gliarra. But first..." He broke their embrace and lay down on one side of the bed, presenting himself to her. What she had been fondling stood tall between his legs, beckoning to her. "Taste it," he offered. "Please, come down and taste it."
Thrilled beyond the measure of anything but the steely length and thickness of what he offered her, Stacey went down where he invited her, and with one exuberant swallow she at last knew something she had wanted to know for so long: the taste and fullness of a perfect boy's erection in her mouth.
"Ooohhh, yes, suck it," Tavos intoned, flexing his every muscle as Stacey's mouth pulled wetly and hungrily at his throbbing tool. "Suck it and play with my briole." Again taking his meaning from the context, Stacey brought her fingers to the yielding and sensitive roundness of Tavos's sac while devouring his stiffened meat, loving the salty taste of what oozed freely from his tip. She wished she could make breakfast, lunch, dinner, and between-meal snacks of his boy-meat. She imagined him letting her do just that, and sucked at him all the more eagerly while the delicate squeezing of her fingers on the fruit at his base made him hurl ecstatic curses into the air over the bed.
Stacey kept her head buried between Tavos's thighs for a long time and made him writhe euphorically with the way she was able to take almost his entire length into her mouth. His mind whirled with an astonished pleasure that so virginal a girl could deep-throat him as if she had been orally sexing boys for years. She sucked his briole just as expertly, filling her mouth with it and rolling it against her tongue. He cursed more loudly, and the former rogue became the willing captive of her pleasuring even as he would have been the prisoner of the law. He let her suck him on and on until the desire for other pleasure became too great for him. He came up on one elbow and stroked the dark river of her hair, saying, "Lie down for me now and let me taste of you."
Tingling all over, Stacey let his erection slip from her mouth. It bobbed in the air and slapped, slick and moist, against her cheek, making her giggle softly. She lay down beside him and presented herself to him, and at once Tavos rolled over and brought down his lips between her open thighs. He began by licking and kissing the petals of her opening, so wet with her arousal. She gasped and released a cry that sounded like a rejoicing call up to the heavens, which Tavos could only imagine it truly was. Her exulting calls of bliss, so long desired and at last fulfilled, carried over as Tavos's fingers tenderly pried open her secret place and he gazed into the pink-red seal to her entrance. How he wanted to probe her depths with his tongue—but no, that would be for later. Only with his hard and pulsing zazansa would he pierce her maidenhood. Instead he let the lips of her sex close up anew, and put his mouth over her petals. With Stacey's entire body going into a clinch of joy, he sucked and licked and kissed her down below, rolling his tongue up and down her wet flower and over the soft bed of flesh surrounding it. Stacey squirmed at the way he served her, feeling all the nights of unrequited desire and all the dreams of a lonely bed roll away at every flick an
d stroke of Tavos's tongue.
With a last intimate kiss between her legs, Tavos said, "I cannot wait any more. I must put my zazansa in you and shadaal you this moment."
In a carnal stupor, Stacey poured out the words, "Yes... please do it to me... please..."
Tavos wasted no time. In a flash he was up on his knees and spreading his legs wider. The tip of his piece came at once to her wet opening. Stacey felt as if she were on the precipice of a waterfall, about to plunge into joy. In fact it was Tavos who took the plunge, stroking his piece smoothly and surely into her. He burst the dam of her regroup virginity and slid himself all the way inside her. Stacey made a sound that was both a moan and a scream, which Tavos could feel all the way up his shaft and into his bones and muscles. And with that feeling he settled onto her and began to pump up and down, giving Stacey her first shadaal, the sex of her dreams.
Stacey could only guess at the meaning of the words that fell hotly from Tavos's mouth as he lay on top of her and hammered away hard and fast at her former maidenhood. They must have been the Sarmian equivalent of the Earth profanities that she had for so long dreamed of hearing the perfect boy grunt and groan while working his hardness inside her wet tightness. She joyously received all the humping and thrusting that he had to give her. She whimpered and moaned under him as the beating of his crotch against her mound and the sweet, savage sliding of his prong in and out of her made her entire body quiver. "Oh, don't stop," she gasped. "Oh, please... more... do it more..."
Pounding into Stacey's depths with youthful fire and fury, never letting up a single beat, Tavos grunted, "Yes... shadaal yes, I will do it so much more. Shadaal, I will do it to you so hard, so deep, so long... Uuuhhh... UUUHHH..."
Much as Tavos had resisted his heritage, it was in humping a woman that his warrior spirit showed itself. Stacey was almost terrified at how thrilled she was by the sheer savagery of his passion. Every stroke of his long, hard prong inside her was like the blow of some mighty weapon, struck by a conqueror who took her without mercy. She tossed her head back and forth at the sheer intensity of his beating on top of her. She welcomed the feeling that the pleasure of his animal, carnal thrusts would tear her asunder. Tears poured from the corners of her eyes. She groped his body everywhere: shoulders, arms, back, buttocks, thighs, her hands demanding more of his fearsome thrusting. In the midst of pounding inside her, Tavos roared, "Shadaal! I cannot hold it back!"
Moving like a sexual acrobat, he kept himself sheathed in her channel while rising to his knees. He licked his fingers and lowered them to the place of her greatest sensitivity and began his ultimate assault, strumming at her little love handle while still ramming himself in and out of her. The pleasure was so overwhelming that Stacey grabbed a pillow and covered her mouth with it to muffle her scream, as the greatest ecstasy of all struck thunderously into both of them at once. Where Stacey had felt herself going over a falls, she now felt a wave of ecstasy crash down upon her, even as another wave let itself loose from Tavos's weapon of passion. His own wetness gushed into hers, cascading and flooding into her womb. He made an incoherent yell of conquest—and then, conquered as well, he fell on top of Stacey and was still.
Stacey lay under Tavos, panting, gasping, sobbing, wet and tingling down below where he was still lodged inside her. In the wake of a first time that she would carry with her every day of her life, she was happy beyond all thought, beyond all expression. She caressed Tavos's body up and down, savoring the sheen of perspiration on his hard male flesh. They were quiet for a time and did not move. At some point she heard herself say, almost breathlessly, "It's still light out. How long can you stay?"
His head resting on her bosom as if it were a pillow, Tavos replied, "Until morning. Until you must go for your appointment. I will escort you there."
"How many times can you do it?" she asked.
Tavos kissed her bosom. His erection had already returned and he was ready to use it on her again. He rose up to meet her face, kissed her, and replied, "We will lose count."
And Stacey moaned with renewed delight as he slipped his pulsing prong deep into her again.
Tavos cancelled all of his massage appointments for the rest of the week. He could recover the money in fees for interviews and speaking engagements as a pardoned absconder from the Sarmian wars. He stayed with Stacey for the remainder of her visit, in her bed, lying between her newly slender thighs and making love deep inside her day and night. Stacey Fagan ended up seeing very little of Nirvana Planitia after all. But she did not care, as she did get to see every last centimeter of the body and zazansa of Tavos of Sarma.
THE END
Desired by the Alien Warrior
TESS AND THE ALIEN WARRIOR
She climbed behind the controls of the floater craft and thought, It's obvious these things were made for a different body type than mine.
Tess Beckett did not need a body of lean, slender curves for the kind of work she did or the kind of life she led. These days, when having a plump figure was strictly an option and the majority of people did not opt for it, Tess could have easily checked herself in for an afternoon of adipose laser surgery and had done with it. And she had always meant to do so, but it had never seemed terribly urgent. When things were not urgent, Tess always had a habit of thinking, Ah, there's always tomorrow. In her life as a diplomat and a negotiator, other things had always seemed more pressing. There was always some political fire to put out on some planet. There was always some dispute on some world that needed her skill for mediation. There were treaties to be ironed out, or the occasional new sentient species to be welcomed into the galactic community. She was a busy woman and had little time for vanities, especially since her pretty face, bright blue eyes, and long curls of auburn hair—so lovely when she did them into a single braid—were enough to see her through most situations.
But neither her presentable face nor her gifts for diplomacy had enabled her to defuse the political bomb that was ticking in the Lotar Valley on the planet Sarma today.
She had dressed more casually for the work than was her custom , opting for a simple pullover shirt and a coverall that lent themselves to piloting a floater better than her body did. Squeezing herself into the pilot's seat of the floater, Tess actually heard herself grunt in a manner that did not befit her dignified position as a diplomat. These quick, hovering craft were built for the use of Sarmians; and these Sarmians, make no mistake, were primarily a race of warriors. Muscular, lean, athletic warriors; people with bodies hers would have resembled if she had not put off that adipose laser treatment. Note to self, she thought. We have really got to get around to working on our procrastination, the very first chance we get.
The general wisdom held that the Sarmians were long-lost cousins of the human race, descendants of early humans who had been taken off the planet by alien experimenters eons ago. The alien abductors themselves had long since vanished, perhaps done in by the very war that they had bred the Sarmians to fight. At the moment Tess would not have minded a little artificial selection for herself, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the controls of a craft designed for someone sleeker than she.
Running her fingertips along the lighted surfaces of the control panel, Tess recalled the afternoon when, to entertain her, one of the pilots here at the regional capital of this sector of Sarma had offered to teach her how to operate a floater. She had spent the last few weeks at the capital, a luxurious place of terracotta-colored domes and sparkling fountains and pools set into one of the mountainous areas of the planet. She had come here to help the Sarmians settle into their new status quo. With their new king, Dantar, ascending to the throne, the time of internecine wars that had divided the planet and taxed its resources was over. It was time for the warring factions, which had fought over the throne since Dantar's father became unfit to be king, to iron out the last of their differences and get on with their new lives. Tess had jumped at the chance to help them do it and left Earth to aid in the negotiations between tribes
. That was what had brought her to the Lotar Valley—and that was where she met Rendar.
The thought of Rendar motivated her to recall more clearly her day of floater piloting lessons. The man was as magnificent as any terrestrial male beauty she had ever seen. He was built as much for pleasure as for battle. The Sarmians had the unusual trait—by Earth standards—of hair on their foreheads in a tapering pattern down to the bridge of the nose. In Rendar's case, the forehead hair complemented the spread of hair across a chest like two shields of hard, muscular flesh and down the rocky road of his abs. These were the highlights of a body of muscle with massively powerful arms, formidable shoulders and legs, and a broad, mighty back that made him look as if he could hold up the mountains of his home like the mythical Atlas holding up the Earth. Judging by what she had seen of him, Tess could only imagine what kind of war club he must have in his private arsenal, but she shook off that thought as too distracting for the moment. If she could not head off the thing that was about to happen, the universe might be deprived of that wondrous masculinity.
Recalling what buttons to press to lift the floater out of its spot in the outdoor hangar space of the capital, Tess got the thing off the ground and made it skim its way out from among the other vehicles and into the surrounding terrain. Soon she had it humming over grass and out to the hillsides where the interior of the Lotar Valley awaited. She was grateful that her chosen assignment was in one of the more temperate areas of Sarma. She had heard of some of the fauna that inhabited the desert areas of the planet—like those vicious, burrowing shambleclaws—and was perfectly happy not having to deal with any of them. All things considered, Sarma was a planet as lovely as Earth, in spite of the toll that the wars for the throne had taken on large sections of it. In fact, it was widely believed that contact between Sarma and Earth had unfolded peacefully because Sarma's infrastructure was in such disarray and its resources were so depleted from all the conflict. An interstellar skirmish with these proud, aggressive people was the last thing Earth needed. Besides, with a Sarmian like Rendar there were things so much more pleasing to do than fight.
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