by Mary Carmen
“Dad, please do not bring up that girl again. We run in different leagues.”
“I can see that, son.”
IX
“Marcus, are you interested in going to the Ibsen play tomorrow night?” Isabella asked her neighbor, the eighteen-year-old New London freshman, as they talked over the Universal Message Service on the date the Earthlings called March 18, 2248.
“Bella, I want to come to your place tomorrow night, instead, and put my lips on your lovely pussy,” Marcus said. “I want to stretch my hand up inside you. I want to have you quivering with desire for me.”
“Marcus! We are just friends!”
“We have been just friends for too long,” Marcus argued. “I am ready to be more than just friends.”
“No strings attached?” Isabella asked.
“Hell, of course there are strings attached, Bella!” Marcus cried. “I am not that easy! I know I can’t afford to marry you now, but I want to get our sexual relationship started tomorrow night. I want you to be my woman.”
“Maybe we should discuss this in person,” Isabella suggested.
“We have been talking over the Universal Message Service for several years, and we will continue for the next fifty,” Marcus replied. “You can see my face on the screen, and I’ll show you other parts of me on the screen if you like.”
Isabella sighed and shook her head. “Don’t you think, Marcus, you ought to use this freshman year to meet more girls? To see what other lives are all about?” Isabella asked, wide-eyed.
“You are not my mother. I have been thinking about nobody but you for three years, Bella,” Marcus told her emphatically. “Ever since Lucius informed Pop he was not going to marry you, I have been waiting for my chance. Lucius thinks you are stuffy and cold, but I think you are approachable and warm. You and I laugh at the same lines at the theater, and we like the same foods at the restaurants. You might be too tall and too thin and too smart for Lucius, but you are just right for me. I’m not going to give you up, and you had better get used to having an unswerving suitor.”
“And what do you know about pleasing a woman in bed?” Isabella wondered, with a smile in her voice.
“The Universal Message Service is full of pictures and stories about how to lick a clit and how to enter a woman, and I’m a quick study,” Marcus said. “Unlike Lucius, I’ve never had any trouble picking up astrophysics or microengineering, and I’m not going to fail at lovemaking, either.”
“Well, if you are sure you want me, Marcus, I am willing to give it a try,” Isabella said, more seriously. “You are much better looking than anybody else I know, and maybe that will be the clincher for me.”
“Hell, no,” Marcus said. “The clincher will be when you are addicted to having your anus filled with my cock, pulsing and exploding into you. That might take a week or two, but we are starting tomorrow night in your bed.”
“I’m a virgin, Marcus,” Isabella admitted. “All I know about sex was what my father told me when I went off to college, and that was very brief. He discussed vaginal intercourse only. And my mother just nodded while he spoke.”
“I expected nothing else, Bella. I’m a virgin, too, but I’ve got plenty of information and plenty of desire and plenty of virility. With your brains and my information, we ought to make a go of it,” Marcus said.
“You are just as smart as I am, Marcus, but we are novices. Maybe we need a coach.”
“I think not, Bella. We two can figure out anything we put our heads to.”
X
The next night the virgins met at Isabella’s tiny apartment in New London, where she was working as a lecturer at the university.
“You are still sure, Marcus?” she asked.
“It’s all solid with me, Bella,” Marcus answered. “It has been my obsession for several years to have you in every way, and if you are willing to overlook my youth and inexperience I will be the best lover any woman has ever wanted.”
“What do we do first?” Isabella asked.
“Let’s sit on the sofa and kiss. Maybe we will kiss for an hour. Maybe I will caress your breasts. Maybe I will suck your nipples. Maybe you will suck my nipples. Maybe I will put my tongue on every spot on your head and your throat,” Marcus suggested.
After a few minutes Isabella broke away and cried, “Marcus! Your tongue went into my mouth!”
Marcus held Isabella’s head next to his chest and replied, “All the fluids in my body are going to mingle with yours, Bella. I want my tongue to feel everything possible about you, including your mouth. I want you to know how my mouth feels, how each of my lips feels. Run your tongue over my inner lips, and you will see how soft they are.”
Although Isabella yielded rather slowly, Marcus was not to be discouraged. Isabella’s silk bodysuit was easy to open, and he found her to be very wet. She jumped at his touch.
“I’ll take off the rest of my clothes now, and I want you to run your hands over my buttocks and my abdomen,” Marcus said. “I want you to feel my thin body, before I start to look like Pop.”
“Do you want me to feel your penis?” Isabella asked.
“I want you to put the tip of my penis in your mouth, Bella,” Marcus replied. “Run your tongue around the tip. There’s no need to gag if you keep the tip near your lips.”
“And you won’t….”
“I promise I won’t come in your mouth, but you need to believe my body’s fluids are not harmful to you. I’ve brought condoms for us to use if I enter your vagina, but they are only for avoiding an early pregnancy. Having my semen in your mouth will not make you pregnant, and it will soon be a pleasant taste to you.”
“Are you going to enter my vagina?”
“Not tonight. Perhaps not for a long time. We need to avoid pregnancy while I am still an undergraduate, and anal intercourse seems, from everything I have read, to be the best way to do that,” Marcus answered. “Having anal intercourse is not as spontaneous as having vaginal intercourse, of course, but it will be perfect for these times of our lives together when we cannot afford a pregnancy.”
Within a few minutes both bodysuits were on the sofa and the lovers were entwined.
“Let me taste you now,” Marcus insisted. “I have been longing to know how you will respond to my tongue on your clit. I have been dreaming about it, too.”
“Oh, Marcus, I can scarcely breathe,” Isabella cried. “I feel I want to explode!”
“Just relax. We are getting there, sweetheart,” Marcus said, looking up at her face. “Let me help you wash out your anus so I can enter. I’ve brought a solution for us to use, and you can massage my testicles while we wait for it to work.”
Within fifteen minutes Marcus had lifted Isabella onto the bathroom’s commode and had heard the commode flush away the fecal matter. He led her to the bedroom. He put on a condom, spread jelly onto the condom and into Isabella’s anal cavity, and started the lengthy insertion process as they knelt together next to the bed. He moved his hand around her waist and gently rubbed her firm clit.
“Comfortable, sweetheart?” Marcus asked. “I’m ready to start moving toward my ejaculation, if you are comfortable.”
“It’s a little tight, but I’m not in pain,” Isabella replied. “Do you think we are physically compatible?”
“I think the creator of the Universe measured you in every way before I was born, to make sure I was just the right size for you. To make sure I would be a pleasure for you to take into your body at all places. In your mouth. In your vagina. In your anus.”
“Yes, Marcus.”
“This is very exciting for me, sweetheart. In another minute I will explode inside of you, our very first intercourse. In another hour I will explode inside of you again, and we will remember these moments for the rest of our lives,” Marcus whispered as he moved his hips toward Isabella’s buttocks.
As he continued to rub her hard clit, Isabella cried out. “My abdomen has had spasms! Five already!”
“We w
ant to get to the point where you can experience hundreds of those spasms,” Marcus said. “Five might be enough for today.”
“Please don’t stop,” Isabella begged. “With each spasm I feel more at peace with life and more happy with you.”
“I want to have you addicted to me,” Marcus insisted. “I want to have you forget about how young I am and how long it will take me to get through college. I want you to forget that you are an instructor and I’m just a freshman. I want you to forget that our parents are always on the outs. I only want you to remember that I have been made just for you and your pleasure.”
XI
On the date the Earthlings called April 21, 2249, Isabella was greeted as she left her classroom after filming a lecture in advanced quadelectronics.
“Why, Lucius, I didn’t know you were in New London!” she exclaimed.
“I’ve come to get things settled with you, Isabella,” Lucius said.
“Settled?”
“We have to get married.”
“Isn’t that a female line, Lucius?” Isabella wondered, shaking her head.
“My father wants your father’s property, and I’ve agreed to marry you to get it. Without it I can’t join my father in his business,” Lucius went on.
“I am sorry you are so unsettled, Lucius, but I cannot marry you. I have given my heart to another,” Isabella said.
“Well, you can ungive it, and just sign the contract. I’ll file it with the Parliament’s Clerk and the deal will be made,” Lucius said.
“I’m not going to marry somebody I cannot care for, and there’s no arguing with me about it,” Isabella firmly said. “Let us be friends, but I cannot marry you.”
“I’ll give you exactly two weeks to think it over,” Lucius said sneeringly. “Then, I will have your father take up this matter with you.”
“I would not interfere with my father’s business for the world, Lucius, but my earnings here at the university are helping to support him and my mother. I cannot believe he would ask me to marry against my will,” Isabella told him.
“Now I understand why he has raised the price on the land,” Lucius said. “He doesn’t need to sell, and he doesn’t intend to honor his agreement to give the land to my father if I marry you.”
“When did my father make such an agreement?” Isabella asked, showing some anger.
“Well over ten years ago. A verbal agreement.”
“Even written offers expire in two days without execution, and any educated person knows it, Lucius. And arranged marriages are illegal on Warbut.”
“I’ll petition King Hutarfe,” Lucius threatened.
“King Hutarfe has been dead for almost seven years, Lucius. His Majesty died of a heart attack after King Edsella of Lillitzen bombed the Warbutian royal palace. The current monarch, King Hoselah, King Hutarfe’s brother, is even more opposed to arranged marriages than Hutarfe was, even though those customs remain popular with the Earthlings who are paying the bills on this planet.”
XII
On the day the Earthlings called June 18, 2254, Cudle opened the door from the reception room and entered Madame Olatana’s consultation room.
“Doctor Witchen has been calling. Are you ready to talk to her again?” the astrologer’s assistant asked.
“Yes, she’s on Earth right now, and I have been calculating her wedding day and hour,” Madame Olatana answered.
“Wedding! I thought she had two children with that partner. Why would they want to get married?” Cudle wondered.
“Now, Cudle, you need to realize Earthlings like marriage. We Warbutians don’t need any such nonsense, but Earthlings have a long history of marriage contracts, mostly enforced in the breach. We have here two Warbut natives of Earthling descent,” Madame Olatana said.
“But they had these children before the marriage ceremony?”
“Because they are Warbut natives, they could not marry until both partners were over twenty-five years of age, Cudle. Our laws would not recognize that marriage. They are on Earth now, in a country called England, where Doctor Witchen’s partner, Marcus Treeborn, has just turned twenty-five. He’s about two years from finishing his doctorate, so they are staying on Earth. Doctor Witchen is teaching at a small school there, and the children are just starting the first of their formal education.”
“Why would she want a reading, then, if she is determined to marry this man?”
“This reading is essentially a calculation of the best time to marry, Cudle. I asked her to describe the objectives for the marriage, and to rank about a dozen attributes she wants to make sure are easy to deal with,” Madame Olatana replied.
“Attributes?”
“Yes, and she selected longevity of life, health, and professional standing as things the couple would want to have good aspects for in the marriage chart.”
“Marriage chart?”
“Yes, the chart erected for the exact time the marriage ceremony was completed.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to have a chart for the exact time the relationship was consummated?” Cudle asked.
“I have that chart in my files, Cudle,” Madame Olatana said. “The relationship was consummated on Warbut, many years ago. This marriage ceremony will take place on Earth. The two charts, and the birth charts of the partners and their children, will be part of everything I will use to read for Doctor Witchen in the future.”
“Sounds very complicated to me,” Cudle admitted.
“Yes, and making a recommendation about the time and date of the marriage is very tricky. It will take me at least eight hours of billable work. I assume Doctor Witchen’s account is current,” Madame Olatana said.
“Current and with a credit balance, Madame.”
“Good. The Universal Message Service has been pestering me about my overdue bill, so I ought to work off this credit today so we can send them something. Tell the Duke I am running late when he comes,” Madame Olatana said.
6 Piev Fallgan
I
On the date the Earthlings on Warbut called June 11, 2238, Rondo entered the consulting room.
“Another client for the advanced search, Madame,” Rondo said as he quietly closed the door between the reception room and the consulting room.
“What! So soon?” Madame Olatana asked.
“Her exact words are on the Universal Message Service’s recording of our daily log, but the gist of it is she feels if we can attempt to find somebody for that pig Glocy we can find somebody for her,” Rondo reported.
“It’s true, Rondo. There is somebody for everyone. Some of these Earthlings who come into our office are so horribly ugly that I despair I will never be able to help them. However, when Angelto is well aspected, it always brings an opportunity,” Madame Olatana replied.
“Well aspected?”
“Yes. Several times a year the transiting Angelto makes a favorable angle to each planet in the natal chart. We just have to capitalize on those times, and the client will think we are magicians,” Madame Olatana said.
“We may be stumped with this one,” Rondo replied. “And the Glocy case is still open. The reception is next week, and we have only two candidates.”
“Stumped?”
“This is a Warbut native, over one hundred thirty years of age. She is about the most decrepit Warbutian I have ever seen, and she had to have her daughter help her into the client’s chair at my desk,” Rondo said.
“And do we have verified birth data?”
“I’m about to head over to the Clerk’s office,” Rondo replied. “She was born just before the Clerk kept everything in the Universal Message Service’s database, and her data is in the Clerk’s stacks. It will cost us fifty dollars in Universal Gold to extract it.”
“And do we have an advance?”
“Yes, three hundred dollars. I would have asked for less, but they looked really well dressed,” Rondo answered.
“Very good. Also fetch a complete financial report while you are over t
here at the Clerk’s office. That is another forty dollars. If this woman can’t find love with an attractive person, perhaps she can win over somebody who is feeling the pinch,” Madame Olatana said.
“Looked like swells, they did,” Rondo agreed.