The zipper proved more complicated.
She tried not to laugh as his fingers tugged at the sides of his pants. Evidently he wasn’t used to them any more than he was to buttons. He looked down at it, frowning.
“Let me help you,” she intervened. “See? You have to pull up on the little metal catch and then slide it down.”
His boxers came into view. Now it was Libby’s turn to take the active role, seeking out her partner’s sex beneath the material of his underwear. He made a low rumbling noise as she made contact with his shaft through the opening in the boxers. His cock was warm and pulsing and very, very hard in her hands.
Libby wanted a chance for a more detailed inspection. She yanked the boxers down. Markos’ cock greeted her proudly, springing to full attention. What a specimen, the longest she had ever seen and so well formed. Uncircumcised, with protruding veins, light blue and green in color, a perfect complement to his ruddy skin. And those balls. She weighed one each in her hands. Tight, firm and surging with semen. Just handling him made her tingle, like she was dealing with something wild and untamed.
Again she was reminded of her would be dream lover, half man, half beast. What was it about Markos that kept casting him in the role of centaur? Was he casting a spell on her or was it her own doing?
“Is something wrong?”
“No, it’s fine.” She thought of all her defeats in those dreams, how she never was able to see things through. Aggy was calling it repression and if so it was time to meet it head-on. “Markos, will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
The deep, intense sincerity of his answer made her swallow. She hoped she wasn’t leading him on. This was a Don Quixote character, tipping at Constellian windmills and she was not about to be his Dulcinea. Still, he was an adult as was she. He had been urging her to let go and this was her chance.
“I would like you to come on me, Markos.”
His gorgeous blue eyes narrowed. “On you?”
“Yes. I would like you to shoot your semen onto my body, my breasts and belly.”
Was she really saying this? What about the mess afterward? What if he stained the couch?
“I will,” he replied. “On one condition. You must make it happen yourself, with your own sweet little hands.”
Her mouth went dry. Was she ready?
“Yes,” she said at last. “I will.”
He put his hands on his hips, encouraging her to touch him at will. She hesitated a moment. His shaft was like a living thing and she wasn’t sure how it would react to her. Tentatively, she extended her fingertips, holding them an inch away. He was radiating heat.
Markos chuckled at her temerity. “It’s not a snake, woman.”
“I know what it is,” she said, a little miffed. “I’ve handled my share.”
“But not enough to be a slut.”
She gave his cock a little squeeze with her nails. “Stop using my words against me.”
“I’m trying to learn, I told you—”
“I know.” She stroked the length of him, pressing the vein underneath. “You just learned the language today. You know I’m beginning to think you’re not crazy, just full of shit. And don’t even start asking me what that means—it’s an expression, that’s all.”
“I wasn’t going to ask. As you can see, I’m occupied.”
She took her second hand, adding it on top of the first. She liked the idea of pleasuring this man, handling him as it were. “Is that right? Are you telling me this little human girl is too much to handle?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You know,” she said mischievously, feeling deliciously safe and sated. “I am not going to let you come until you beg me.”
“That implies you will be able to stop me.”
“Yes it does.” Libby cupped his balls, mischievously. “These guys feel pretty full. I bet they’re just bursting at the seams, aren’t they?”
“You’re about to find out.”
She traced a finger down his chest. His cock was so very full of blood, it looked ready to explode. “I’m waiting for the magic words.”
“I have no skills in magic,” he said. “You would have to ask my friend Argos the Crab.”
She rolled her eyes. “Forget I asked.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” he said, proving once again his literal nature. “Your words keep etching in my brain.”
She arched a brow. “Markos?”
“Yes?”
“Just shut up, please…and come.”
He grunted, only too glad to oblige as she resumed her caressing. Just a few motions up and down, her fingers skillfully applied and he was there.
“That’s it,” she encouraged. “That’s what I need.”
His face was locked into an expression of bliss. He leaned back, like a god riding the lightning. She directed his powerful staff as best she could, even as the tip of it erupted with the thickest, whitest semen she had ever seen. The first burst arced, landing full on her right breast. She cried out from the sheer animal pleasure. “Libra,” he growled. “Oh, stars…”
She pumped him furiously. “Let me have it, all of it,” she commanded.
One blast after another hit her, the spray soaking both breasts and the lily-white cavern of her belly, too. Even her cheek and lips were not exempt.
Talk about prowess. She had a coating over her, a blanket of male release, hard, physical evidence of their mutual desire.
Consummated in total safety, she might add.
Take that in your Freudian pipe and smoke it, Aggy.
Wait—it was a cigar, wasn’t it?
“I’m hungry,” declared Libby. “We should get some dinner.”
An excellent time to debrief, she thought, letting him in gently on the idea that this encounter had been a one-time deal.
“I fail to see the point.” He cocked his head. “I have already made love with you.”
“People eat dinner for reasons other than sex, Markos.”
“So this wouldn’t be a date?”
“No, it would not.” She slapped his thigh. “How about you hop up and let me breathe.”
He nodded, obliging.
She stood, amazed at how casual she was being about the whole thing. She had only ever had sex with three men in her life, Markos included. And neither of the first two arrangements had ended well at all.
She ought to be freaking out, racking her brain to figure out how it had happened in the first place.
“Here.” Markos handed her his shirt to clean herself with.
“Oh, no.” She touched his shoulder, blown away by the gesture. “You need your shirt. I have a little bathroom in here. I can clean myself up.”
Markos put his hand on her shoulder as she tried to move past him. “No,” he said firmly. “Cleaning yourself is not your job. It is mine.”
With that he had her stand, hands at her side, legs slightly apart.
She drew a ragged breath as he sank to his knees, just in front of her. With infinite gentleness, he dabbed at her stomach with his tongue. She closed her eyes as he gently worked across the surface of her skin, cleaning his semen, spot by spot.
“Oh god,” she groaned, rising onto tiptoes. “No more…”
He ignored her, continuing until he had covered the whole of her belly. Then he stood up and did her breasts. Libby’s nipples throbbed in reply, craving more attention as she leaned her hands on his shoulders for support.
He was suckling her, pulling her orbs one at a time into his mouth, molding them, giving them life. She could feel the thrumming in her sex, the harbingers of another orgasm.
If he kept this up much longer, they would never make it to dinner.
It was at this point Markos found her clitoris. A sneak attack with his quick and lively tongue. Her clitoris swelled in reply, seeking to connect itself, forever if possible. It knew a good thing when it had it, she thought, that was for sure.
But what
about her intention to cut him off? This was hardly sending the right signals to the man. Her eyes popped open, she grabbed fistfuls of hair. “No, Markos. No more.”
Markos backed off, but not until he had risen to his feet to deliver a soul-piercing kiss, lip to lip, body to body that left her winded, bewildered…and hornier than when they had begun.
“Your clothes,” he reminded her as she stood there, blankly staring straight ahead.
Libby blinked, trying to focus off him and on the faded beige walls of her office, decorated with her diplomas and a picture of her and Vinny and Frank at an interdepartmental cookout a few years back. She could see Markos holding out her bra. It seemed like hours ago since she had worn it. Her breasts felt so different, lighter and more buoyant. Her whole body felt like it might float out the window, right through the wire-mesh glass.
She wanted to dance. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to sing.
Was all this Markos’ doing or had she finally sprung a gasket?
“I am going to use the bathroom,” she informed him, laying out the game plan. “And when I come back, we will go to eat. That is all that will happen. Afterward, we go separate ways for good.”
“Whatever you desire.” He smiled smoothly, making her blush all over again.
Libby narrowed her gaze. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“I never lie,” he said.
“All the more reason not to trust you,” she declared. Picking up her clothes she went to the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the water. Cold water to splash on her face and hopefully bring her to her senses.
“Don’t start with me,” she snapped at her dripping-wet reflection in the mirror above the sink. “It’s not going any further and that’s that.”
She dried herself with the towel. She was feeling calmer and nearly home free when she spied the bottle of perfume on the shelf. Aggy had given it to her as a birthday gift last year. She hadn’t wanted to bring it home, though she couldn’t bring herself to ditch it either.
It was French, a tiny decanter of cut crystal, worth way more than a woman should spend on the frivolous pursuit of impressing men. She picked it up, wondering what sort of fragrance Markos might like. A man that strong and yet so attuned to the heated feminine pulse point.
Her mind drifting, she treated the inside of her wrist to a tiny squirt. Lifting it to her nostrils, she inhaled the scent, sweet rose, mixed with honeysuckle and lilac. Her breath quickened just a little as she imagined the dainty scent wafting to Markos’ nostrils. She pictured them flaring, his blood boiling over, pounding through his veins…straight to his cock.
Feeling like the most insolent flirt, she rubbed her wrists together. And why not? Women could smell pretty for a man and not have sex with them.
Couldn’t they?
She went to put the perfume back. A wicked idea came into her mind. One more squirt…right between her breasts, in the furrow where not too long ago Markos’ head had been.
The sensation went right between her thighs. She had to brace herself on the sink as her legs turned to rubber. Okay, so possibly this hadn’t been a good idea. Sexing herself up before going out with a man to tell him she wasn’t interested in any more sex.
A stern look kept her reflection silent. No “I told you so”s, no lectures about why women like her needed to keep away from men all together and just do their jobs.
Could it be there was a gene for attracting the wrong men? Overgrown babies, dreamers, selfish career whores and in this case a Don Quixotian hunk with the tongue of Superman.
Libby put her clothes on.
It would be a quick meal. An unromantic place. Home by nine.
She reached for her hair to pull it back up into a bun.
Her hands froze. She couldn’t do it.
Twice she tried, only to have it come tumbling back down.
“Doesn’t mean a thing,” she told her reflection. “Don’t you dare read into it. I’m just…tired. I could be conservative again if I wanted to. I’m just proving I don’t have to. I can have my hair down, wear perfume and go to dinner with a man without a thing happening.”
Her reflection seemed unconvinced.
Bravado aside, Libby was inclined to agree.
Just let the night go fast, she prayed, and let me wake up tomorrow my same old self.
Boring, predictable…and alone.
She was about to leave the bathroom when panic set in. She went back to the sink, rinsing off the perfume with a washcloth.
As a final precaution, she tied her hair back in a ponytail.
There, she thought.
Sex-proof…at least she hoped so.
* * * * *
Markos noticed the changes as soon as she emerged from the bathroom. “You tied back your hair,” he observed. “And your scent…you smell sweet.”
She did not seem pleased, though he was only stating fact. “Never mind,” she said curtly, her face a shade redder. “Let’s just go and eat.”
Markos followed her, enjoying the way she moved her body. Why she wore clothes was beyond him. If ever a female should be naked in all her glory, this was the one.
She led him into a very small room. The doors slid shut without being touched. Markos looked around at the gleaming metal. “I do not understand. What happens in this place?”
“It’s an elevator. You don’t do anything, you ride in it.”
The room shook slightly and Markos felt motion beneath his feet. Instinctively he reached out, taking her hand.
The ride as she called it lasted only a few moments. Then the doors opened again. They were in a dark cavern, dimly lit. Markos could see a number of the metal creatures from the stone roads, sleeping.
“Beware,” said Markos, seeing them. “This is a dragons’ lair.”
She laughed lightly. “No, silly, these are cars. You drive them.”
“Cars,” Markos repeated the word. Understanding came into his mind. These were like chariots, without horses. No wonder the people got in and out of them. They were controlling them by some spell or other.
Very quickly the events of the past few hours fell together in his mind, suddenly making much more sense. The rapidity of his comprehension was the result of Argos’ language and learning spell, just as the change in his form was a result of a shape shift spell. There were about a dozen more he didn’t understand which were allowing him to be here at this very moment.
“One of these cars is yours?” asked Markos.
“Yes,” she said, leading him to a bright blue one.
“It is very beautiful,” he said.
She snorted. “Hardly. But it’s all I can afford.”
Markos did not see anything wrong with the car, but he didn’t say so. She let him in one of the doors and then got in herself.
He watched her insert a key in front of the seat. The car began to hum. Next she kicked off her shoes and pressed her bare foot to the floor. Turning to look over her shoulder she pulled down on a stick beside the wheel and the car started moving backward.
Markos decided all of this was very sexy. “There is a seat in back,” he observed, deciding to tease her a little. “Is that for making love?”
She shifted on the seat away from him. “No, it most certainly is not.”
He smiled inwardly at the emotion in her voice. He had her thinking about it. He wondered what the scent was all about. Was she trying to arouse him with perfume? It was not unknown on Constellia. If so, why tell him she wished no more sex? Was this part of the façade she must maintain so as not to be considered a slut?
He watched as she directed them between rows and rows of sleeping cars. There were arrows on the wall, pointing to a place called exit. Eventually they came to a gate and a large opening in the gray wall. A man in a uniform sat in a small glass enclosure. Markos feared he was a policeman who would arrest him but he merely waved, opening the gate.
It was nighttime outside, though there were small round lights everywhere. Even the tow
ers were lit, thousands of tiny flames all up and down their smooth sides at regular intervals. People were walking in front of the buildings, as many or more than before.
There were just as many cars too, one behind another, honking. Each had lights on, shining from the grille. He could hardly believe now that he had thought these were sentient creatures when he had first arrived. Was it only today?
Thanks to his new Libra, or Libby Daniels as the policeman had introduced her, Markos was definitely enjoying being human. And he was going to enjoy it a whole lot more when he was in Libby’s bed, fully immersed in her glorious pussy. The taste of her he had enjoyed so far told him it would be good between them. Perhaps the best he had even known. It was funny, how he had the oddest feeling his cock would feel at home inside this female, at least while he was stuck on this strange new world.
Libby was the only thing that made any sense here, truth be told. She might be confusing, but at least he could hold a conversation with her and know she was listening.
He held out great hope in this regard that soon, very soon, he would be able to start giving her the proof she obviously required to believe in Constellia.
He could certainly do that now, grabbing her and teleporting her back by means of the escape amulet Argos had given him, but that would be kidnapping. Besides, if she found herself suddenly on an alien world inhabited by creatures even stranger to her than the humans were to him she might lose her sanity. Then what good would she be as a lawyer?
In some ways he was beginning to regret the entire plan. Granted, there wasn’t a practitioner of the law anywhere on Constellia who would dare defend him against Scorpos, but what made them think an earthling female would?
For Argos it was a matter of fate. “The Earth is governed by the same stars, my boy. They are not unaware of us there, trust me.”
Dalion’s answer was seduction. “Do what centaurs do best, my halfling friend, and I am not referring to archery.”
By the stars that perfume was getting to him. What a little minx she was. Markos decided on some friendly revenge. “I see you tied back your hair.” He reached out to touch her tail of silky black. “Do you enjoy the feel of restraints on your body?”
A Centaur for Libby Page 5