The Artifact of Foex

by James L. Wolf

  “No!” Rory cried out, arms crossed. “I was having fun, and I don’t want to have to talk things over.”

  Journey raised his eyebrows. “I believe Chet has something he wants to say to you and is having a hard time spitting it out. I’m in the way here.”

  “You stay put. What is it, Chet?”

  Chet’s face was hotter than ever. He felt like he was on stage in front of an audience. How could he reveal his tentative, heart-felt emotions like this? But denying how he felt would just make matters worse. “Um, Rory? I really like you. I, uh, was hoping we could start dating again.”

  She stared at him, and he wilted. She rolled her eyes. “Abyss, Chet. You have the worst timing ever.”

  Chet opened his mouth and shut it. He just sat there like a doedicu. A small sound caught his attention; Journey was covering his mouth, his eyes crescents. Chet realized he was trying hard—very hard—not to laugh out loud.

  “What am I, the best show in town?”

  Journey took several visible deep breaths before he was able to say, “No, sweetie, I’m sorry. It’s not funny to you, I know. We’ve all just had a day from the Abyss. But may I make a suggestion?”

  “What?”

  “Let’s fuck one another silly, order take out and sleep before making any kind of big decision.”

  Chet snorted, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Just like a Flame. You’re such a hedonist.”

  “Pantheon, yes. I’m the biggest slut you’ve ever seen. I enjoy myself mightily, so why be ashamed of it?” Journey shrugged, grinning unrepentantly. He turned to Rory and said, “I suggest you squash him flat in the morning instead of now.”

  She straightened indignantly. “I never said I was going to turn him down!”

  Chet, who’d froze at Journey’s words, straightened and threw back his shoulders back at her tone. She wasn’t going to turn him down!

  “Oh.” Journey looked amused and a trifle smug at this exclamation.

  Chet realized he’d worded it that way on purpose. Reverse psychology? Journey was on his side without doubt. Chet relaxed. As he did, he realized how astounding Journey was in this form. He gazed up and down Journey’s muscled body, eyes lingering on his dick. What would Rory think if Chet did what he really wanted to do: grab hold of Journey and fuck him hard?

  It was an invigorating notion. Fenimore had been brutal while raping Journey. Chet knew it, but the sounds and sight of it had detoured his brain and leapt directly to his cock. He was hard at the thought.

  Journey seemed to sense his mood. He met Chet’s gaze. Then he stood, turned his back and leaned against the bed, hands on the mattress, his ass decidedly pro-offered.

  Chet stood and ran a hand up and down Journey’s back. His back was fucking hot, lithe and muscled, everything Chet had ever dreamed. Well, when he’d admitted to himself that he dreamed of men. Definitely better than Fenimore.

  “Are you sure?” he whispered in Journey’s ear.

  Journey wriggled in place, his shapely ass sticking out farther, his penis so erect it touched his flat belly. “Oh, yes.”

  “Uh, guys? What’s going on, here?” Rory was staring at them, her expression everything Chet didn’t want to see—alarmed, concerned, almost revolted. The woman he liked was witnessing his desires, and she was unhappy with what she saw.

  Not good, Chet thought, crestfallen.

  Chapter 30

  Lusting for the Present

  Chet swallowed, though he didn’t draw away from Journey. He almost couldn’t. Chet felt like a magnet attracted to the correct side of another magnet. Journey was spread and ready for him, and Chet’s dick was so hard, the need frantic within him.

  “Uh, Rory. I hope you don’t mind...” There was no end to that sentence; it trailed off into the ether between the stars, horribly incomplete.

  “Mind what?” Rory looked about ready to freak out.

  Chet’s shoulders slumped. Rory deserved more, yet Chet wasn’t sure he could adequately explain. He’d been fucking men and Flame all week, yet his inner orientation remained murky, opaque to inner reflection.

  Journey glanced over his shoulder at Chet. “Guess we need to keep talking and processing our feelings,” he grumbled, spitting out the words like a curse. He sat on the bed again, scratching his chest with a disgruntled expression. “Abyss, I’m never going to get fucked, am I?”

  “Is that all you care about?” Chet had been looking forward to fucking Journey, too.

  “It was on my list this evening, yes. Guess I’d better get us started.” Journey rubbed his face. He turned so he was facing both of them and addressed Rory directly. “Rory, how long did you and Chet go out before he broke up with you?”

  “About a year.”

  “You’re from Eich Che, too, right?”

  “Yes?”

  “Flame aren’t at all rare at home like they are in Wetshul. There’s Flame everywhere, just like in Plainsdaugheau,” he said, glancing at Chet.

  She shrugged. “Of course. Where are you going with this?”

  Journey was gazing at her with the air of a doctor looking to make a correct diagnosis. “Bear with me. Because you’re from Eich Che, you must know that same-sex pairings are more often than not the norm, especially—though not exclusively—with Flame. Which tells me you understand what we want, at least on a cognitive level. I’m guessing you’re not so much shocked by what’s going on as that Chet here wants me as male.”

  Her expression reminded Chet of his own reaction to Oak’s revealed identity. As if she’d been lied to and didn’t like it. “That’s it exactly.”

  Chet gulped. Could he explain this? He had to try. “I kind of knew I liked both men and women before Journey—and Fenimore—showed up, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Let alone anyone else, especially you. Someone I liked. I mean, what if you thought it was creepy?” What if she still thought it was creepy? Chet almost wished he didn’t like men, but he did. Whether she turned him down in the morning or not, he’d still be himself. Her acceptance or rejection wouldn’t make a difference, and she should know that. It was only fair.

  “Uh. Well, I guess that’s... understandable.” Rory looked like someone eating fish stew when the bones hadn’t been properly taken out.

  “It’s been an eye-opening week, and I don’t even know how to feel about it. It’s unfair to expect you to accept me when I’m having trouble with this myself.”

  Journey took his hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Didn’t mean to open a can of worms for you.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Chet straightened indignantly, gazing at him fiercely. He squeezed Journey’s hand. “Don’t ever apologize for being yourself.”

  His mouth quirked up, then down. He looked away, his expression abstract. Sad.

  Rory looked from Chet to Journey and back again. “Are you two in love?” she whispered.

  Chet blinked at her, then back to Journey, almost aghast. Journey was gazing at him with a similar expression. It should have made him feel bad, but it was actually comforting. “No,” they said at the same time, dropping hands. Then they smiled at one another. Consensus achieved! Chet thought, a grin slowly spreading over his face.

  “Well.” Rory took a deep breath and let it out in a puff. “That’s okay, then. Go ahead, Chet. This isn’t something we’re going to be worked out tonight. But... you know, I guess we’ll figure something out, some kind of compromise. If I decide to take you back—and that’s a big if.”

  Journey barked a laugh. “There’s the old Eich Che spirit.”

  “You’d better believe it.” She grinned at him and yawned. “Come on, let’s do something. I’ll fall asleep if we keep sitting still.”

  Chet’s heart lightened until he was almost floating with happiness.“Could you, um, do me a favor, Rory? Grab Journey’s dick and enjoy him in the front while I take him from the rear?”

  “Oh. Okay,” she said, eyes wide.

  “You have it all worked out, I see.” Journey’
s tone was ironic, but he smirked as he scrambled upright. He resumed his position at the edge of the bed.

  Chet’s cock was so hard it quivered, like a cynodict following an exciting scent. He grabbed Journey and rubbed up and down his ass crack. He glanced around to find that Rory had her hands full. Journey groaned, his breath catching at her touch. At their touch.

  Chet fingered his ass. Abyss, Journey was wet; the smell of ichor filled the room. There was no need to wait. Chet pushed his cock inside with an audible sucking noise. Journey let loose a small mewl, shuddering. Chet thrust all the way in, loving how tight he was, then drew all the way out, his dick coming loose. All the way in, all the way out of Journey’s muscular ass. Journey squirmed, occupied at both ends.

  “That’s right, slut,” Chet murmured. He didn’t want to sound like Fenimore, but Journey was too hot to just fuck in silence. “You want it, don’t you? Tell me how much you want it.”

  “Oh, Pantheon, I want it. Fuck me, Chet.”

  “I didn’t hear you. What was that again?”

  “Fuck me! I need to be fucked! Hard.”

  “Really? You want it hard?” Chet pushed himself inside to the hilt and held still. “Hmm?”

  “Oh, please. Please.” Journey was gasping like a fish. He cried out and Chet peeked over his shoulder, frowning. Had Journey come? No, Rory was licking his dick. Trying something new, was she? Just like an ice-cream cone, only saltier.

  Chet upped the pace, fucking Journey with precise blows. He loved this. Journey took it, took everything he had. Doyen Quor and Fenimore—not to mention Journey himself—had taught him how to time a good fucking. Chet varied his speed: he slowed down before upping his pace, then slowed down again. He didn’t want to come, he wanted to fuck. Journey’s ass muscles clenched hard as he came, squirting ichor-tinged semen across the bedspread. Rory jerked back as if uncertain how to deal with the event. Chet grinned and began fucking him again.

  “Wow, Chet. You’ve got him good," Rory murmured, wide eyed. She repositioned herself at the edge of the bed, watching the show from a different angle. “Now that’s hot.”

  Chet smirked at her, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. He loved that she wasn’t horrified, witnessing the act. Her hand had disappeared into her bathrobe—between her legs—and she rocked in place.

  Chet turned back to Journey, who was sprawled under him, taking it. Chet pummeled him harder with his hips, and Journey gasped. Then Chet snarled and fucked him so hard they fell to the bed together, legs waving unsupported in the air. Chet was on the verge of coming... he was coming... he held very still until the moment passed. He was still hard, his semen as yet unspilled.

  “Oh,” Journey moaned. “Oh, Chet. Oh, oh Chet.”

  If he wanted to keep fucking, he’d need better traction. “Journey, you and I are going to crawl to the center of the bed, so I can continue enjoying you. Go slowly and don’t let me slip out of you.”

  Moving like conjoined insects, they reached a spot where their legs were firmly secure on the mattress. Chet settled over Journey like an inofe eating its prey. He felt a hand on his back and glanced over his shoulder. Rory, of course. Her eyes were sparkling with ambition, the same drive that had taken Fenimore down. She climbed on top of him and lay on his back, spooning him. Journey groaned, pressed under two bodies.

  Chet paused. “You okay down there?”

  “Keep going!”

  He did. It felt wonderful to be sandwiched, to have Journey flattened under him and Rory writhing on top.

  “I kind of wish I had a dick,” she said into his ear, giggling. “Then we’d be a complete circuit.”

  “You’ll lose all your hair if you went to fire.” He grinned at her over his shoulder.

  “I don’t want a dick that much, thank you kindly.”

  Journey’s hands were balling up the bedding. He yelled—orgasming again, Chet decided. After the spasm ended, Journey went limp. “Pantheon. Chet, are you ever going to come up there?”

  “Do you want me to come, Journey?” he purred in his ear. “I thought you were disappointed when I came too soon, last time.”

  “There’s some kind of turnabout-is-fair-play action going on here, isn’t there?”

  “Be careful what you ask for," Chet said in a sing-song tone. “I like being inside you, Journey. You’re so warm, wet and tight. You feel way too good for me to back off.”

  “That’s what I get for being hospitable.”

  “If you really feel that way, I guess I can speed up.” Chet did, electing more groans from beneath him.

  “You two are cute.” Rory had responded to the change of pace by rolling down Chet’s body until she was humping his upper thighs. She slapped Chet’s ass, and he groaned, back arching.

  “Do that again, Rory!” Journey cried out.

  She spanked him harder this time. The pain felt like the deepest pleasure he’d ever felt. Chet screamed, arcing like an electrical current as he came.

  He slumped, and Journey crawled out from under him. They were dripping with sweat, Chet realized. Journey left faint purple marks on the bedspread wherever his body had touched the fabric.

  Chet rolled onto his back and let loose a satisfied sigh. “That was good.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Journey kissed him on the brow. “You gave me precisely what I needed.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Rory looked a little disappointed. “That was it?”

  Chet groaned, sore and exhausted, but Journey grinned and crooked his finger. “Come here, Rory.”

  She crawled over, her bathrobe gaping open. Chet enjoyed the view from his reclined position. Despite everything, her expression was troubled. “Um, no offense, but I don’t think I want to lose my virginity tonight.”

  “I wasn’t planning on going there, not with matters so unsettled between you and Chet.”

  “What, then?” She pouted, looking like a schoolgirl hoping for a treat.

  Journey slid his hand under her bathrobe, and she gasped at the touch. Chet watched, holding his breath, as Journey’s hand disappeared into her nether regions. She lay down on her back, her legs open for his perusal. Journey maneuvered himself between them until his face was at the same level as her cunt. Grinning, he sank between her legs. Rory yelped, thrashing.

  Chet wasn’t sure how to feel, but Rory decided for him.

  “Chet, get over here!” she gasped.

  He cuddled closer, uncertain what she wanted from him. She grabbed hold of him and held on tight—tight!—making little needy sounds as she writhed.

  Journey paused to look at him. “Chet, suckle her tits,” he ordered, then disappeared once again.

  It was what he’d always dreamed of doing. Chet opened her bathrobe all the way and regarded her breasts, jiggling before him. Rory gazed up at his face as if nervous.

  “Am I... am I okay?”

  “You’re perfect,” he said, sinking upon her.

  He took one tit in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue while gently pinching the other. Her breasts were firm and moved under him in the most alluring fashion. Rory was screaming, her head flung back. Her body snapped like a rubber band. Had she come? Journey didn’t stop, so neither did Chet. She snapped again, then again, still screaming.

  Finally, she pulled away from Chet and pushed Journey out from between her legs. “Enough,” she gasped.

  “How many was that, Chet? I didn’t count.” Journey looked smug.

  “I didn’t, either,” he said, thinking about what her reactions had meant. “She jerked in place maybe three or four times. Rory, how many times did you come?”

  “I don’t... I’ve never felt anything like that. I didn’t know it was possible.”

  “You mean you’ve never orgasmed?” Journey crawled up the bed to lie beside her, curling into her body.

  They looked so comfortable. For a moment, Chet felt another spark of jealousy, except he was comfortable, too, nestled up against Rory. Chet snuggled closer
, and she put her arms around both their shoulders.

  “Is that what it’s called?” she said. “It felt astronomical.”

  “Huh. I’d have gone easier on you if I’d known you were pre-orgasmic. Sorry about that.”

  She shook her head. “No problem. No problem at all.”

  Chet gazed at both of them, secure and replete. He frowned, freed for the moment to think about what would happen next. Well, Journey would probably go back to his own life in Eich Che. Rory would undoubtedly return to Semaphore to complete her degree, now that the Raptus was destroyed. What about himself? Though he’d been struggling with the question all week, the answer was suddenly simple.

  Chet cleared his throat. “Tomorrow morning I’m going to call my father and apologize. Then I’ll tell him I’m pledging myself to Philapo as a Literati. Philapo doesn’t have the same intensity of Foex, but you know, I think I’d do well under him.”

  “Fantastic.” Journey reached over and squeezed his hand. “Knife and I noticed your, ah, Literati-like qualities in our travels. I’m glad you’ve made peace with yourself.”

  “Yeah. I’d love to return to Semaphore and complete my degree if I can work it out with my dad. I mean, unless I’m going to prison for the high jinks and murders.”

  Rory shook her head. “We recorded everything said in that cave. Fenimore’s confession will stand in a court of law if necessary. The Cluster is going to Plainsdaugheau to speak to the police there, then to Semaphore to discuss both Tibbets and Clementina with officials and the university administration. My mom has already contacted Professor Espies to work out a deal for both of our returns. Espies was her thesis chair when she earned her Ph.D. at Semaphore, so she has some pull with him.”

  “Oh.” Chet blinked. “I—that’s wonderful.”

  Journey added, “Don’t forget to remind me to pay you back, Chet. I can draw upon Knife’s funds to replace what we stole from your father.”

  Chet nodded, miserable at the thought of Knife.

  As if feeling the change in mood, Journey sat up. “I’m hungry. Let’s call for take-out!”