I realized I’d been projecting my own concerns on my clanmates. “I guess I’m the one who considers the eggs to be our future children. I’m the person grasping and second-guessing all of it.”
“Does it change your mind about providing them to those in need?”
I thought about it for a few seconds and finally shook my head. “No. It’s a strange possessiveness I didn’t realize I was feeling. Now that I realize that, I’m okay to go ahead with it. It’s just another of my weird Earther idiosyncrasies.”
“You’re not weird,” Seot laugh. “The fact you’re going ahead with it despite feeling protectiveness over your hypothetical offspring makes me prouder of your efforts than before. I admire your generosity, my Matara.”
“Enough to show me? You did lock your office door.” I nuzzled his ear and let my fingers go low to do some exploring. “Ooh, look what I found. It’s big and hard. Aw, it has a friend. Come out and play, guys.”
Seot chuckled at my teasing, but I was naked, on my back, and covered by Dramok pretty quick. The moment he’d confirmed I was wet, he pushed into me. Then he went still, pinning me on the seating cushions with his weight and gazing down at me with a kind of smirk.
“What’s that expression for?” I asked, wiggling in hopes of getting him to move. That first slide in had hit all the happy parts, and I desired more of that incredible friction.
“I’m enjoying being inside you. I could stay in this position this all day.”
“Not moving? Not fucking? You’ve got better control than I do,” I told him. Ugh, I wanted him to do something rather than hold me down.
“Yes, but if I don’t move, you have no choice except to stay where I’ve got you. You’d be stuck lying there with my cocks in you, unable to do anything about it.”
“You don’t really want to spend the day like this.”
“Why not? It feels incredible.” His naughty grin got bigger the whole time.
“Tell me you’re joking.” I was starting to wonder.
Seot laughed. “Okay, so I’d have to fuck at some point. There’s no way I could do this a whole day. It would be an interesting challenge to see how long I could hold off though.”
“Interesting for you, maybe.” I scowled to show him how little I wanted such a thing to happen.
“Who’s the Dramok, Shalia? Who’s in charge here?” The smile remained, but the note of command in his tone had my attention immediately.
I didn’t hesitate. “You are, my Dramok.”
“And if I want you to lie still under me with my cocks in your pussy and ass? If I told you to keep still for the pleasure I would take in being inside you?”
My gaze lowered from his gentle but somehow demanding gaze. “I would obey.”
He was quiet for a few seconds, letting me remember I wished for his control. “Someday I will indulge myself in the experience of filling you in that way. I’ll lay on top of you, enjoying the delight of having my cocks inside you. When I’m ready, I’ll fuck you until I come. Then we’ll continue to relax with me inside your sweet, warm body until I’m ready to fuck you again. It will go on for as long as I desire. What do you think of that, my Matara?”
When he put it like that, it sounded similar to the kind of tormenting pleasure I adore. I kept my gaze lowered. “If my Dramok wishes it, then I am happy to give him any pleasure he wants from me.”
“Very good. I’m glad we cleared that up. Now I am ready to fuck you.”
Which he did. But slowly, at least at first. He kept his weight on me, not letting me move as he ground his cocks into me. He slid out about halfway, and then ground in again. It felt marvelous. It was exciting. The slow pace had me desperate for more, which Seot would not grant. The steady tempo was all titillation, with no sign completion would come soon.
His kisses were a confusing mixture of hot and gentle. I mean, they were the softest, sweetest kisses ever, not the kind I think of when passion is involved. Yet they were remarkably thorough, giving me gooseflesh with how meticulous and absolute Seot was in making sure I knew I was being kissed.
In short, I was suspended at a point where I wanted more, harder, faster…and no way to get any of that. It was a crazy-making limbo, where arousal was set to a high simmer, not allowed to boil. With Seot’s full length pressing me down, I couldn’t push against him, rise to him, or do anything that could relieve the need gnawing at me. It was like an itch that couldn't be reached for a scratch, an ache that refused to go away. Seot may not be into harsh, punishing measures, but I believe he’s a sadist all the same. He knew what he was doing to me. I had no choice but to accept it.
I don’t know how many instances I wandered between loving the weight of him on me, our bodies fused together in that most delightful of embraces; and suffering the anguish of realizing he might taunt me forever, taking his sweet time to fulfill our needs in order to remind me who was boss. Who knew good old missionary position could be such a tease? Seot showed me that even ‘regular’ sex could be an extraordinary persecution if done right. The same with a kiss. He is an amazing man to serve.
As the minutes of this delicious agony stretched long, I ached to beg for more. To demand, even. Yet Seot had made his point clear earlier. He was in command. I had said I would give him whatever he wished and be glad about it. To protest what he was doing now would negate that.
I had to accept what was happening. No complaints. No pleas. No negotiations.
My pussy, after enduring the torment forever, decided it would generate my demands for me. It gave a long, insistent flex, drawing hard enough on Seot’s cock that he shuddered and groaned. His gaze was a cross between amusement and rapt excitement…with a little remonstration thrown in.
“Can't help it. That thing has a mind of its own,” I quipped.
He chuckled and gave me one of those kisses that makes my head spin. My crotch spasmed harder than before. His breath caught. “Okay, message received. You’ve been a lovely girl. Time for our reward.”
I was delighted to hear it. I ached from need.
Seot didn't change position and pound me into ecstatic oblivion as I’d hoped, however. I suppose he’d hoped to draw things out longer still. My body had waited long enough though, thanks so much. Even though my Dramok’s pace was the only thing that increased, grinding hard against me, that was all it took. Pleasure escalated quickly.
Orgasm bloomed, opening wide at the point where we joined, its heat spreading quickly to suffuse me from head to toe. I laid beneath my lover, shuddering with bliss as his breathing quickened and grew heavier. Seot’s groan as he surrendered to rapture shook my bones, renewing the surges that had begun to dissipate.
Once need stopped riding me, it was indeed pleasant to lay there with my clanmate, our bodies still linked. I could finally appreciate Seot's fantasy of spending a day that way. What can be sweeter than being held by one of the men I love, feeling him around and inside me, looking into his beautiful face and knowing this is how the rest of my life will be?
The day got even better when Cifa brought Anrel home that night. She reached for me, calling out, “Mom-mom-mom-mom.” It wasn’t nonsensical baby chatter. She called me Mom. Clear as day. Naturally, we threw an impromptu celebration, inviting everybody who could come to dinner and coming the rest to share the news.
My life is perfect. There is no other word to describe it.
February 11
Poor Cifa. My Imdiko is on the brink of losing his mind.
We're coming up fast on the gigantic rollout of the cruise line’s newest ship, the amazing little yacht I went on with my clan. How fast? The campaign starts tomorrow. Our ad will be premiering on all the broadcast feeds around Kalquor. We’re throwing a huge party aboard the ship. Ila has confirmed a guest list featuring a veritable who’s who of the Empire. Celebrities and dignitaries—including the Imperial Clan—will be in attendance.
After the initial excitement of such an impressive roster, Cifa promptly went into a tailspin of
doubt. He voiced his greatest fear as we went over the final cut of the promotional vid in my office. “Why would the Imperial Clan care anything about such a small ship? It doesn't have a fraction of the entertainment the larger ships boast. It doesn’t have the numerous cuisines—”
“Or the crowds, or the option of personalizing the itinerary. I imagine that getting away from everyone else and not having to follow official schedules would be a huge thrill for people like them,” I suggested. “Calm down. Enjoy the attention the royals will bring to your company. Even if they never book a cruise, this is a major marketing win.”
“That’s easy for you to say. If this thing fails with such attention surrounding it, it won't be your face on the cruise journals that discuss where Cifiler Ocean Cruises went wrong.”
“Such a handsome face would be forgiven anything.” I sighed and gave him my most besotted gaze, batting my eyes. “You could probably commit murder, and the judge would say, ‘But he’s sooo dreamy! Look at those eyes, that sweet smile, those kissable lips. Let’s give him a pass this time.’”
Cifa tried to glare at me for not taking his concerns seriously. I kept giving him Sappy Love Face, having been warned in advance how much he was inclined to fret over new campaigns. My goofiness won through, making him laugh in the end.
Here’s hoping things go well at the giant party in a couple of days. Otherwise, Cifa might fling himself off the bow of the ship.
February 13
The big party for the small ship’s debut kicked off this afternoon. Whew. What a shindig that was.
It started off much the way the maiden cruise had: the Zelts had returned to play their lively music as people boarded. The three clans of the owners were on deck with the crew to shout happy greetings to those arriving—albeit doing so sober for this particular occasion. The men wore short pants and loose shirts. We women had our soaksuits and sarongs on, reflecting the ease of vacation. Our guests were similarly dressed, having been warned ahead to keep it casual. Only the Imperial Clan’s contingent of Royal Guards in their red armored formsuits strayed from the beach-going attire.
Speaking of the royals, it was a tad unsettling to see them dressed down. I guess I have trouble perceiving monarchs as casual people wandering around in shorts and soaksuits. I have to say, Empress Jessica was much shorter than I’d expected. One only had to look in her flashing eyes to know not to screw with her, though. She seems to have been born for ruling, though she was extremely nice to me. We had plenty to talk about, what with having our kids with us. Her son Prince Wayne is an adorable toddler with a head full of shocking silver-gray hair to match the Dramok emperor’s. He and Anrel were fascinated with each other. Anytime they were close enough to do so, they jabbered back and forth. It was as if they were having an intense conversation, much to our amusement. Prince Wayne had a few words he could say, both in English and Kalquorian. His favorite is apparently ‘cookie’. Anrel still hasn’t gotten past ‘Mom’, which she delights in yelling most when I’m out of the room, as if to scold me for leaving her sight.
Other guests for the ship’s premiere included a couple of Royal Council members and their clans, members of the Kalquorian Cruise Board, and a few travel promoters. We started the festivities with cocktails and a tour of the ship.
It all went quite well. Everybody was impressed with the small cruise that offered enormous amenities. The rooms with extendable balconies received a lot of compliments.
We cast off for a little afternoon jaunt along the shoreline. Leshella flowed, incredible food prepared by a famous chef was laid out on the main deck, and the Zelts played their happy, rollicking tunes. The whirlpool was popular, as was a scavenger hunt put on by Captain Carip while his first mate piloted the vessel. The passengers enjoyed themselves. I could tell Cifa was starting to relax.
As afternoon turned into evening, a feast was laid out in the enclosed cabin on the main deck. The food was scrumptious and the crew entertained us. Members of the Nobek historical group put on a couple of their violent dances, others performed a dramatic skit, and an Imdiko told jokes that made some of us laugh so hard we were crying.
The moment neared for our promotional spot to air over the broadcast vids. A large vid monitor was lowered from the ceiling at the front of the cabin. All at once, my hands started to sweat. Sure, the dignitaries had viewed the wonderful attributes of the ship itself, but they hadn’t witnessed the places it would go. Others within the Empire would be getting their first taste of the new vessel via vid only. All at once, I second-guessed the entire piece. How could I have possibly captured the coziness along with the grandeur of this offering?
Convinced I had failed to bring Cifa’s project to life, I sat in my chair and waited for doom to descend on me. For my Imdiko’s radiant expression to fall as he realized I hadn’t done the stellar job we’d been so sure of in my editing suite.
The vid flickered on about one minute early. It had been tuned to a news feed. I had to sit through the humorous story of a man surprising Esofu spaceport officials the day before. Apparently, this below-economy-class traveler leaped out of a self-guided seed capsule that had returned from a trip to Haven.
The Imperial Clan was sitting close enough to me for me to overhear Clajak tell Jessica, “He must have been one of Ospar’s political opponents.”
She snickered. “Most likely the new Earther governor. I’ve been hearing Hoover and Ospar don’t get along.”
I barely restrained an urge to tell them to quiet down, that I couldn’t take meaningless prattle at that moment. I’m glad I managed to keep my mouth shut. I doubt the empress and emperor would have understood, even though my promo was starting to air. I was ready to scream from a sudden case of nerves.
I’m happy to report the vid was as satisfactory as I had thought it was back at the office. Even better, it was well received by our guests, with applause echoing all around the room as it ended. I was embarrassed beyond belief when Cifa credited me for having been its mastermind and cheers broke out, but I grinned like a loon. I was relieved to have not destroyed the meticulously planned campaign.
We floated into home port. Cifa and his siblings took it as an excellent sign that nobody was in a hurry to disembark from our sweet little ship. It was quite late when the last guest drifted down the gangplank, congratulating the owners on an amazing venture and promising to book a trip as soon as possible.
We got through it. I think it’s going to be a huge success for the cruise line.
February 14
Fresh on the heels of our big party introducing Cifa’s new ship, I got a com from the lawyer handling my egg-donor foundation. Everything is in place as far as red tape is concerned. I’m official now.
My first formal act as the director of the Family Fertility Foundation was to head over to the Matara Complex’s liaison office. I poked my head in the door and grinned at Katrina. “Look at that busy lady work.”
“Hey!” she shouted, her face split in a huge grin. “Wait a minute. Where is my grandbaby?”
“We’re all working women around here.” I gave her a hug. “She’s helping Candy train more childcare personnel at the cruise line.”
“Fine, I’ll try not to pout. We need a girl’s afternoon soon though, all three and a half of us.” Katrina grinned brightly.
“You look terrific. How’s the clan? The family?”
We played catch up for a few minutes. I’d spoken to Katrina only a couple days before, and nothing much had happened since then. Her son, daughter, and their families were all en route to Haven Colony, which would soon put them near enough for Katrina to visit regularly. I’m so glad her son relented about Katrina belonging to a clan, though he avoids the topic in conversation.
As for that clan, Katrina said all was well with her men. I was glad to hear it, especially since I haven’t heard from Betra or Oses for some days now. It’s a relief to find out the Pussy ‘Porter is encountering no problems as it makes its way to Earth for another load of r
efugees.
As for the lack of communication with my former sweethearts on the transport, it’s kind of been acknowledged we all need to keep some distance. I don’t want my clan to feel threatened in our relationship, so I get the latest news about the guys from Betra’s mother Elwa. I have to say, she’s been kind of tight-lipped lately. She’s not really told me much beyond Betra and Oses being ‘healthy and happy’, as she puts it.
I miss those two. I really do. However, I need to concentrate on my relationship with the men I’ve chosen as my happily-ever-after. I do send Betra and Oses frequent updates on Anrel, along with recordings of her being her adorable self so they don’t have heart attacks once they return to Kalquor and see her in person again.
It’s difficult to relegate to the background the two men who saved my life and who I loved. Still love, to be honest. However, we all knew our relationship would be temporary, and Betra and Oses will forever be my friends.
Shalia's Diary Book 11 Page 11