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Page 15.
 Lethe…that was the name of the place…the little quiet planet…where he longed to escape again, this time forever. To hell with a career in the fleet. For the first time, that moment, seeing the sham of her beauty, the mortality amid all of her pretense and power, he dared to think: the city is lost. It’s just a short time. Even this woman is already packing, and when the princes flee, the kingdom is about to fall. He did not share his thoughts with her, but waited for her to speak. He knew what would happen between them next. Her eyes said the same. She had dark, liquescent eyes as filled with passion as the pure whites around her pupils radiated strength and health. If she was using drugs much, it didn’t show in her eyes. But then she had the finest doctors in the galaxy to keep her strong. Her body was perfect for him. It was soft and firm in just the right ways, curvy without excess, lean without losing that bit of fullness here and there like in her strong thighs and ripe belly. Her breasts were those of a girl, never having filled with milk. She’d never had offspring physically, but somewhere a young prince was being groomed to become her son and heir, nursed by women and machines owned by the palace. Nothing was denied her which was why he remained her supreme prize: the man who would not surrender. Or, who had surrendered, and she’d betrayed him, and he would never trust her again. He could still taste her, take her, rock her, make her delirious for a few hours, and apparently that was all she needed. So he gave that to her, and she gave many things to him. Only she’d never really given him herself, and she had no idea about that sort of thing, so she remained puzzled at his strength, his ferocity, his individualism. That intrigued her more than all the money and spices and genetic monkeys and other indulgences in her world. She owned everything she wanted, so that only thing left was to grasp someone or something she could not possess.
Her eyelids had been kohled and blued a dark shade mauve, lightly and in good taste. Her fingernails and toenails were square and perfect and glossed that same shade of mauve or violet.
He opened his arms, and she ran to him, threw himself against him, and he clasped her to his body as he swung her gently this way and that. Already she sighed with anticipation, moaned with passion, as she pressed her soft cheek and bony face against his own. She wrapped her arms around him and let him know of the naked surfaces waiting for him to touch. As always, he felt a stirring in his lower half, the hardness, the straining, the yearning, the need to fuck her. For those moments as they sailed toward orgasm together, he was the lord and she was his nothing.
She started peeling his clothes off in feverish motions, while licking her lips and regarding him with hungry eyes.
“I have to go soon,” he whispered.
“The mess at the Starmeer?”
“Yes. The whole city is in turmoil.”
“I want.” She felt before him, taking him in her mouth. She held his bare buttocks in eager hands while sucking him.
He closed his eyes ecstatically, rolling his eyeballs upward. Why was this always so good? And why did he want to escape? She was an addiction, like her opium.
She took him out of her mouth and licked her lips, nodding as she stared at the glistening head. She growled in a girl voice: “I want.” She popped it back in. She rocked her head back and forth, loudly and furiously working her mouth around him.
He held her head in his hands, enjoying the gritty crispy feel of her combed dark hair, while her mouth pumped him back and forth, until he felt himself letting go. He danced from one arched foot to the other, while her head shoved around between his legs. She held his jewels with delicate fingertips so they would not hurt while she mauled his font tenderly and lovingly.
When he thought he would lose his balance (and consciousness) she pulled him down onto the thick, soft carpet, on top of her, and breathed: “In me.”
He was ready. She had stripped him and he was naked, hard and stiff and wet from her spit. She fumbled with trembling fingers, but he didn’t need guidance. His wet found its way into her wet. She threw her head back with gritted teeth and gave a short, barking yell. As he hovered between her pale, soft, spread thighs, and slammed against her wet nothing, she raised herself up on her elbows, looked into his face savagely, and pumped. She pumped and slammed her Venus mound upward, meeting the force of his fast, slapping, slamming motions. Their impact filled the room.
He slipped his arms around her legs and raised her, so her knees were folded over his powerful, wiry forearms, and her feet dangled behind him, flying up and down as he slammed her. The room filled with wet slapping noises.
At some point, she turned to one side, pulled away, and presented her naked ass to him. He entered back into that wet warm yeah and hammered her while she rested with her elbows on the ground and started making moaning, crying sounds like someone in pain. It was the sound she made as she sailed into orgasm bay under full sail with all flags and pennants fluttering in a brisk sea wind. He piled up against her, pressing her, dominating and mastering her, while she cried out to be taken and mastered, to be manned like a ship and sailed to her orgasm.
He piled her and drove her, shoving and manhandling her, while she whooped and cried for more, harder, faster, yeah, big, I want…
They rested a few minutes. She lay under him spread-eagled and breathless, while he lay panting on top and held those frail little tits and sucked their purple cone-shaped nipples, violent with passion, from one to the other back, clutching them in his fists and she raised herself up holding each tit and forcing it in to his mouth as he flicked his tongue in circles.
She was hungry again and slammed herself up so he was inside her. She pulled on his knees, pulling his legs to her, which lowered his rear, so that he was in her deep. He fought with her, pinned her arms back mastered her while she shook her head from side to side and implored him with sick eyes to just fuck her more, more, more harder…
He took her again and again, in all of her holes, while she pushed herself and pulled him. She wrestled and wrapped long strong slender legs around him. At one point, she had his head in a thigh-lock, sideways, while he sucked at her fons. And so it went, until they were spent…
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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