As the Imdiko’s sweetest assets came into view, I was all eyes. His cocks, the larger stacked over the smaller, were livid with excitement. Veined and glistening with natural lubrication, the tapered bullet lengths jutted straight out from his groin. Prophets preserve us. I could have flung my legs wide right then and there for him. I almost did.
“You’re killing me,” I moaned.
Betra’s smile was humorous with a tinge of cruelty. “You like these.” He stroked himself with both hands. “Especially when they fill your pussy and ass. You love being fucked with them.”
“Which I can’t right now,” I pointed out with a pout. “You know I can’t have sex. Yet here you are, torturing me with your gorgeous self.”
He walked toward me, his pace measured, working his cocks. “There are things we can do. Things that won’t tax your strength too far.”
I watched him approach, heating feverishly as he neared. “Please Betra,” was all I could manage.
He stood in front of me. He let go of his secondary cock and his hand drifted in front of my face. “Lick it.”
His palm and fingers were covered in his juices. I eagerly opened my mouth for him. I lapped his palm clean, sighing with happiness to taste him. Sweetish-spice, like cinnamon, exploded on my tongue. I sucked each of his fingers, my head bobbing back and forth as if I sucked cock. I didn’t stop until I’d tongued him clean.
“Now this one.” Betra offered his other hand.
As I mouthed that one, his other hand tugged the collar of my blouse down, slipping the wide scoop neck over my shoulders and down my arms. My bra straps followed, and he pulled the cups away from my breasts, baring them. He cupped a mound and then the other, then stroked over them. He tugged on my hardened nipples, sending blasts of pleasure straight down to my pussy. I moaned as I licked his hand clean.
When I had claimed the last drop of moisture, he fondled my breasts. I looked with yearning at the cocks bobbing only inches away. “Mouth or hands or both?”
“Neither for the moment.” Command hardened his voice into steel. “Just sit there while I play with your tits.”
He had that ‘lord and master’ look he gets when we have sex. Disobedience would result in punishment ... probably the kind I didn’t actually like. Though my hands itched to grab his flesh and my mouth watered to taste it, I didn’t dare move.
Betra massaged my breasts, his touch firm and demanding. Not hurtful, however. His was the air of a man enjoying what belonged to him rather than pushing me to prove obedience. I had the idea that my acquiescence was a given, expected. The ownership attitude excited me. I remained still, giving myself over to Betra’s right to indulge himself with me as he saw fit.
He paused in his erotic groping to roll my nipples between thumbs and forefingers. I gasped at the darts of pleasure his touch gave me, but I did not move. I dove into the fantasy of being his toy, his plaything, with no will of my own. I existed only for his enjoyment. The idea excited me.
Betra tugged at my nipples, encouraging them to draw tighter into sharp points. The tiny darts grew into lightning bolts, electrifying me. I clutched at the lounger on either side of me. My fingers dug into the plush fabric. It felt so good to be his.
When he spoke, his voice had a growling quality to it. “You are beautiful when you give yourself. So sweet with surrender. You excite me, Shalia.”
I looked up into his face. He wore a mix of emotions that battled for supremacy: strength, demand, desire, and compassion. Seeing him like that left me eager to give him everything.
Betra released my breasts and gripped the back of the lounger, bracing himself on either side of my head. He brought a knee up next to my leg. Then the other knee, so that he knelt, straddling me. His primary brushed over my lips. The sweet cinnamon-y flavor filled my senses, drowning me in hunger.
“Lick me. Suck me,” he commanded.
I was all too happy to obey. My tongue flicked over the tapered tip of him, gathering the delicious droplet waiting there. It tasted much as his lubricating juices did with the addition of savory saltiness. I moaned my appreciation, and his cocks jerked at the sound.
I lapped all over the tip of his primary, coaxing a few more drops of pre-cum out. Betra straightened a little, bringing his secondary shaft up to receive attention as well. From there, I was guided by his movements: the smaller prick at lip level so that I could lick its tip, the primary lowered to take its place for more tasting, a few shallow thrusts into my mouth with the smaller length rubbing beneath my chin, then the secondary rising once more for attention.
Tasting those fevered lengths made me ache all the more for actual intercourse. My poor pussy flexed and creamed, aching for attention. Though I couldn’t have sex, Betra would not leave me wanting. In the meantime, I was fulfilled by giving him pleasure. His raspy breathing told me I succeeded in that endeavor.
“I’m jerking off into your mouth,” he gasped. “Keep licking.”
“May I touch myself?” I asked, desperate for contact, even my own.
“No. That pussy belongs to me. Give me your wrists.”
As part of me felt bereft that I could not grant myself additional excitement, another part thrilled at the control Betra insisted on. I gave him my wrists, which he gathered in a big hand. He pinned them behind my head against the lounger.
“Lick it.” He gripped his larger cock and pushed it against my lips. “When I tell you, open wide so I can watch my cum fill your mouth.”
I wound my tongue about the tip of his prick, licking more of his essence as he masturbated. His pulse pounded frantically in the vein that ran on the underside. I closed my lips around the tip and suckled. Then I licked as far up his shaft as I could reach.
Through it all he pulled at himself, his strokes getting stronger and faster. He jerked himself as if he were trying to win a race. I had to pause to say, “In a hurry to get back to work?”
“I’d love to do this all day, but I don’t want you tired out. Keep licking. This won’t take long.”
With Betra, what could be taken as a selfish act is actually all about me. If I displayed the first instance of flagging, he’d stop no matter how miserable it made him. God love that man.
I went to work on him with a will, both to let him have his fun and to show him I was in no danger of tiring. My poor pussy throbbed. I needed to come too.
It was only a couple minutes later ... probably less ... when Betra’s eyes rolled back a little. “Here ... I come ... oh ... fuck ... yeah,” he ground out.
I opened wide, cupping the end of his shaft with my tongue to catch everything. A moment later heat jetted down my throat. Betra groaned, his gaze fixed on watching it happen.
I swallowed with slow deliberation to make him groan again. Excitement spiked in my gut as I fulfilled his lust. He finished and shook as the last spicy-salty spurt left his manhood.
“Fuck, that was good,” he breathed. “Thank you.”
I grinned up at him despite need riding me like a sadistic jockey on a horse. “You don’t usually let yourself be fulfilled first.”
“I know you.” Betra backed off the lounger. He knelt down and pushed my skirt up. Pulling my panties off, he said, “Once I get you off, your poor body will be desperate for a nap. But you’ll feel guilty if you don’t reciprocate, and then I’ll have to listen to you whine and pretend you’re not exhausted—”
“Whine?” I barked. “When do I whine?”
He spread my legs and smiled at what was between them. “Complain, then. Bitch at me. Whatever you wish to call it.”
I was ready to tell him off (though I knew he told the truth) when he leaned in and snagged a mouthful of me. My twat fizzed with joy, shutting down all protests and arguments and, yes, bitching. Especially when a couple of fingers entered me, sliding in and out, the tips dragging hard against all the best places.
My thighs tightened around Betra’s head, gripping him in a vise. He chuckled against my clit, sending delicious vibratio
ns through me. I cried out and arched.
“Nmm ehmsurmng mrsmmm,” he mumbled in a warning tone. He buzzed my happy place better than a vibrator.
“What?” I gasped. I let up enough for him to gain some air and speak normally.
“No exerting yourself,” he repeated. His blue-purple eyes flashed at me, but he looked amused. My juices covered him from nose to chin.
“Oh,” I managed before he buried his face in me again.
I tried to relax because he was right. Someone should have sent a memo to my hips. I couldn’t keep them from jerking and bucking in reaction to Betra’s talented mouth, tongue, and fingers.
He shoved a third finger in and drummed into me. He licked and sucked my clit with force that verged on uncomfortable. In short, he did everything perfectly, as usual. I didn’t climb to orgasm; I raced to win that bitch.
“Just ... a little more,” I panted. “Almost ... almost ... don’t stop ... almost...”
My whole body went taut, readying for detonation. A few more seconds would get me there. I was on the cusp, my pussy gathering itself for the big release.
“One more second ... yeah ... yeah ... yeahyeahyeahyeahYEAHYEAHYEAH!”
Sweet, engorging, billowing fire, racing from that single point of ignition and racing through my veins. I lit like a giant firecracker, shooting for the stratosphere. Boom-boom-boom, a gazillion rockets. It was magnificent.
My legs fell apart, as sturdy as overcooked noodles. I sagged all over, sinking into lounger cushions. I quieted, letting the last tiny spasms fizzle as Betra licked me clean.
“That’s a nice smile,” he said when he came up for air. His expression was smug. It deserved to be.
“Thank you,” I mumbled. “Much better.”
He got up. I was already nodding off when he cradled me in his arms and walked me to my bedroom. I swear I never felt him put me to bed. I have no idea if I mumbled goodbye before he left. I slept like the dead for the next hour.
July 11, early
I just received the strangest message from Earth. I’m on the verge of a full-on freak-out.
There was no return frequency, no identification of the sender. It was sent several days ago, which is par for the course due to the distance the transport is from Earth. It was a single sentence long. Com your fathers about Commander Nang.
That’s it. That’s all I have. So why am I panicking? Because nothing to do with me is ever minor. I am the universe’s fuck-over magnet. I get out of one scrape only to fall flat on my face in another. It’s similar to tripping in a cow pasture. No matter where it happens, I will faceplant in poo.
I can’t take any more craziness. I’m still weak. I have Anrel to worry over. I’ll be on Kalquor in about two months, without Oses and Betra to watch over me.
Okay, deep breaths. Nang is back on Earth. He can’t do anything to me. Maybe something bad happened to him and he wants me to hear about it. After all, before he turned weird, we did have a few good times. He may be Anrel’s natural father. If anything awful has happened to him, I should know about it.
Who sent me the message if not my dads? One of Nang’s clanmates? Or do I dare hope that someone from Clan Dusa is reaching out to me?
Boy, doesn’t that send a pang of sadness through me. It’s been a long time since Dusa, Esak, and Weln cut off all communications. Anrel’s other potential fathers made it a point to walk away. We couldn’t clan, and I wasn’t sure I wished to clan. That killed the relationship off.
It had to have come from someone in Clan Nang or Clan Dusa. Why the cryptic missive though? Why that bald statement?
I could wait until I have that instant feedback to Earth to find out, but I’m too wigged out. I know a man who might have some answers for me. Let’s see if he has time for good old frantic Shalia.
July 11, later
Oses’s office door was open when I showed up. The instant I appeared in his doorway, he shoved his work to the side and stood, his feral features going savage. “What’s wrong?” he growled.
Boy, talk about someone who is ready to jump in front of a bullet for a girl. One look at me, and the weapons commander geared up to kick some ass. I swear the muscles in his scarred arms swelled like balloons. Gotta love those sleeveless uniforms. I was turned on and freaked out all at once.
I also felt kind of bad for verging on hysterics. Oses can’t stand to see me endangered. He once had a breakdown over it. I fought to make myself appear calmer.
“Maybe nothing,” I mustered my most sensible tone. “I received a weird message, and I’m no doubt reading all sorts of stuff into it that don’t belong.”
I had loaded the note into my handheld computer. I brought up the short and not-so-sweet text for Oses to read.
“Nang. The Dramok who fixated on you and may be Anrel’s biological sire?” he mused. The crease between his brows deepened and then he glanced at me shifting nervously on my feet. “Shalia, sit down. You walked here all by yourself?”
I was in trouble for that, but in my panic, I hadn’t been thinking straight. I perched on the nearby chair. “It was stupid, given my condition. I flipped out. I didn’t realize I’d done it until you said so.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Adrenaline is a wonderful thing in an emergency, but this doesn’t qualify. You’ll be weak as a baby in a few moments.”
That made me think of Anrel. “Oses, can Nang make trouble for me and Anrel? That was my first thought when I saw it. What if his duties ended and he left Earth? What if he’s traveling to Kalquor?”
Oses came around the desk and knelt at my feet. His hands, as big as my head, cupped my jaw. “If that is the case, he’s far behind us. If he’s journeying home, it will be nine months before he gets there.”
“I got worked up over diddly-squat.” I relaxed. “I guess I’m so used to one emergency after another that I’m jumping at shadows now.”
“I didn’t say you shouldn’t be alert.” Oses frowned, his gaze going distant as he considered. “It could be someone thought you should be aware that something happened to this Nang, due to your past association with him.”
“I thought of that possibility myself. If I knew who sent it, that might help.”
Oses stood up and propped himself against the desk edge. He picked up my handheld and scowled at the message. He tapped in a few commands and scowled even harder at the results.
“What?” I prodded.
The big Nobek gave me a smile that was supposed to be comforting. With that fierce visage, he doesn’t do comforting well. “It’s possibly nothing. Best to be sure though. I’ll make some inquiries to Earth and see what I can find out.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Oses. Don’t try to protect me by acting as if it’s no big deal when it’s a very big deal. I’ll think the worst if you don’t share what’s banging around in that skull of yours.”
That earned me a real smile, filled with respect. “Always ready to face the dark, aren’t you, my pet? As I said, it’s probably nothing. I’m being an old, suspicious Nobek.”
“But?”
“The com frequency this came from has been scrambled. Someone didn’t want you to trace the source. I can tell it came from Earth, but not specifically where on Earth or who sent it.”
“They don’t want me to know who they are.”
“Yet it was important enough to him to get you a communication. This makes me think it’s a warning of some sort.”
I swallowed hard. “Like Nang has been re-assigned to Kalquor. That maybe someone thinks he still has an urge to see me.”
“That could be.” Oses reached over to caress my face. “If that is the case, we’ll find out. I’ll see to it that safeguards are in place to shield you from him, if necessary. You won’t be left without protection, pet.”
I started to feel better about the situation. “Thanks, Oses. My biggest worry is that Nang might find out that Anrel could be his daughter. That he’ll try to push the issue.”
The weapo
ns commander’s face darkened. “There is no issue. No matter the biological status, he has no claim on either you or Anrel. Both of you will be kept safe.”
I was reassured by Oses’s assertion. However, a small part of me was reminded that I’d been in danger before, danger that a number of destroyers and Kalquorians hadn’t shielded me from. If Nang was heading back to Kalquor and wasn’t ready to give up his hopes that I would be a part of his life, I needed to verify I could maintain Anrel’s security. Somehow, I would have to up the odds in my favor.
I wish I had a clue on how to do that.
Before I could ask Oses’s opinion, Betra walked into the room staring at his handheld. “Hey Oses, on that little escapade we were planning—”
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