Thursday, August 13, 2015

July 10, part 2



Betra guided me back to my quarters in the hover chair allotted to me until I’m back on my feet. I walk a little farther every day along with performing physical therapy, but it still doesn’t take much to wipe me out. The poisoning took one hell of a toll on my body. Plus my therapist is a sadistic shit named Dramok Resan. Okay, okay, I know he’s just doing his job. But there is something about that man that scrapes my nerves raw. Sometimes I think he enjoys putting me through the wringer and pushes me harder than is necessary.



At any rate, I get tired really fast. Anrel isn’t the only one with a long way to go.



It didn’t take us long to get to my rooms in the Matara section of the ship. I was greeted with smiles and inquiries about Anrel from my fellow travelers, Earther and Kalquorian alike. It’s nice to be cared about by so many.



Betra guided me into my sitting room. “Here or the sleeping room?” he asked.



“Here is fine,” I said. “Despite Tep’s worries, I’m not all that tired. No p.t. today, so I’ve got a little strength. That vampire Resan didn’t get the chance to steal my life force.”



Betra chuckled and watched me carefully as I got to my feet and walked to the lounger. “He’s doing something right when it comes to getting you back on your feet. It was only days ago that you would have to take a nap after an hour with Anrel.”



I sat down and mused. “You’re right. I’m recovering better than I thought.”



“Don’t rush it,” the Imdiko warned. “You still have to take it easy.”



I looked him over, appreciating as always his gorgeous physique. “I can’t wait to be cleared for sex. I’m not that religious, but it’s a sin to have someone like you running around and not enjoy every inch of that body.”



That brought out Betra’s goofiest grin. “You like it?” he asked. He ran his hands up his thighs, over his abdomen, ending with that chiseled chest that his armored formsuit can’t quite disguise. Then his hands traveled back down again.



“Gimme,” I begged, reaching for him. “Stop being such a tease.”



He stayed out of reach, but turned around to show me that pert round ass of his. His hands cupped his buttocks, accentuating their perfection. “Tease? Not me.”



“You mean brute. I’m telling Oses. He’ll teach you a lesson.”



Betra turned back around. His expression was a cross between anxiety and anticipation. Oses has his number in a lot of ways nowadays. I could tell Betra was weighing the pros and cons of being tattled on to the big weapons commander.



His grin turned saucy again. “Shalia, don’t you like to be teased?”



His hands went to the collar of the formsuit. He tugged, slowly opening it down the resealable seam that ran from the collar to his groin. I bit my lip as a hint of that wide chest came into view.



“You are so going to get it,” I warned him, licking my lips as a triangle of fabric opened up to display more coffee-with-cream colored flesh. Mentally, I urged him on. Even if I couldn’t have sex, I wasn’t averse to the strip show.



“Yeah? What is it you’re going to give me?” Betra pulled the top of the formsuit wide, displaying his shoulders. Gorgeous, strong shoulders. I heard a tiny groan spill from my throat.



“Bastard,” I whispered. I didn’t tell him to stop.



The Imdiko’s arms peeled free of the uniform’s long sleeves. Veined biceps joined the muscled shoulders to delight my eyes. I thought of all the times those arms had held me. I shivered.



Betra saw. He damned near gloated over the effect he was having on me. “Poor Shalia,” he whispered. “Ready men at her beck and call, and she can’t have them. Poor, poor girl.”



He pulled at the seam again, opening his formsuit to just below his navel. The ridges of his abdomen came into view. I could have humped the double row of eight hills for days on end. Betra was too magnificent.



“Oses is going to parade you up and down the ship naked,” I threatened him. “I’ll tell him to.”



Betra’s eyes widened. The bulge that had formed at his crotch grew bigger still. The Imdiko possesses an dominating personality, particularly when it comes to sex, but he also has a weakness for being humiliated. I think the differing drives confuse him as much as they do me.



“I like to show off,” he purred. “I can imagine how exciting it would be to be shown off.”



“On a leash,” I added, seeing the excitement growing in his eyes as well as parts south. “With a switch striping your ass as you’re walked.”



It was Betra’s turn to shiver. However, his smile only got more evil. He turned around. “Do you mean this ass?”



He pushed the lower part of his uniform down. There it was, his perfect ass, more gorgeous than any master’s sculpture has ever been. I sighed as he rubbed his palms up and down it, wishing it was me touching him.



“Keep going,” I urged.



He grinned at me over his shoulder. Then he bent over – hallelujah – to tug his boots off. His butt flexed in entrancing ways as he did so. He peeled his formsuit down, baring firm chiseled legs. I drank him in from head to heels. I couldn’t get enough.



The man is a bona fide work of art.



Betra turned slowly, drawing out the enjoyment of my appreciation. My poor wrecked body did its best to forget it was in no shape for wild abandon. I could feel my nipples drawing in tight and hard. My pussy was wet, salivating for more than it could have. I should have been mad at Betra for his cruel taunting, but instead I drowned in delight. I figured, what the hell, I can always rub one out ... or better yet, ask him to do it for me.



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 said, stroking himself with both hands. “You like feeling them 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 towards me, his pace measured, his hands still working his cocks. “There are still things we can do,” he said. “Things that won’t tax your strength too far.”



I watched him approach, my body 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 said, offering 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 one mound and then the other, then stroked over them. He tugged on my already 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 used both hands on my breasts. I looked with longing at the cocks bobbing only inches from my face. “Mouth or hands or both?” I asked him.



“Neither for the moment,” he said, command turning his voice into steel. “Just sit there while I play with your tits.”



His eyes 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. So 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, something he expected. The ownership attitude excited me. I remained still, giving myself over to Betra’s right to indulge himself with my body 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 my body. 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 like this,” Betra said. “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 made me want 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 one knee up next to my leg. Then the other knee, so that he knelt straddling me. His primary cock brushed over my lips. The sweet cinnamon-y flavor filled my senses, drowning me in want.



“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 cock, coaxing a few more drops of pre-cum out. Betra straightened a little, bringing his secondary cock up to receive attention as well. From there, I was guided by his movements: the smaller prick at mouth 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 cock 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. I knew that though I couldn’t have sex right now, 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 going to jerk 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.”



Even 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 one big hand. He pinned them behind my head against the back of the lounger.



“Lick it,” he said, gripping his larger cock and pushing it against my lips. “When I tell you, open your mouth wide so I can watch my cum fill it.”



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 bit in my mouth 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 like he was trying to win a race. I had to pause to say, “In a hurry to get back to work?”



He shook his head. “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 showed 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 with want. I needed to come too.



It was only a couple minutes later ... probably less ... when Betra groaned and his eyes rolled back a little. “Here ... I come ... oh ... fuck ... yeah,” he ground out.



I opened my mouth wide, cupping the end of his cock with my tongue so as to catch everything. A moment later heat jetted into my mouth and down my throat. Betra groaned loudly, his gaze fixed on watching it happen.



I swallowed with slow deliberation just 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 cock.



“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 said, backing off the lounger. He knelt down and pushed my skirt up. Pulling my panties off, he said, “Once I get you off, your poor little body will want 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 want to call it.”



I was ready to tell him off (even though I knew he told the truth) when he leaned in and got 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 like a vise. He chuckled against my clit, sending delicious vibrations 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 got out before he buried his face in me again.



I tried to relax because I knew 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 just right, as usual. I didn’t climb to orgasm; I raced to win that bitch.



“Just ... 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 now, 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. My body lit like a giant firecracker, shooting for the stratosphere. Boom-boom-boom, like a gazillion rockets. It was magnificent.



My legs fell apart, as sturdy as overcooked noodles. I sagged all over, my body sinking into lounger cushions. I lay quiet, 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 said goodbye before he left. I slept like the dead for the next hour.

3 comments:

  1. Aww Betra is so sweet. Now, Oses' name has been mentioned so when is he going to show up and help a girl out and maybe even Betra too.

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  2. Hmm, is Dramok Resan the missing piece for Nobek Oses and Imdiko Betra? I suspect that we'll be seeing more of him...

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