Heavenly Bodies Page 9

  He pulled her into his arms, enveloping her face, neck and shoulders with kisses. Kisses like no other, Cherae thought, melting against his broad chest and parting her lips to receive his talented tongue. Ezrod was kissing her senseless—she’d faint from lack of oxygen if he didn’t stop soon, she realized—but still she clung to him, eagerly receiving caresses, moaning as his nimble hands explored every hill and valley of her form.

  He paused momentarily, lifting a silvery eyebrow. “Are you feeling well, Ambassador?”

  “Hmm? Well? Why, yes, I’m fine…just perfect.”

  “You seem a bit unsteady on your feet. Shall we recline?”

  Cherae sighed and nodded. “Yes, please.”

  He scooped her up and gently laid her across a bed of pillows strewn along the edge of the raised dais. She noted dreamily that a crowd of Magnens and Terrans were congregating nearby, beaming brightly, holographic cameras at hand.

  Ezrod lay beside her and continued to stroke and kiss her until Cherae thought she’d go mad. “Please, I want you inside me. I want you to make love to me.”

  A long digit probed her wet folds. Cherae arched her back toward the pleasurable pressure and moaned.

  He smiled at her response. “I believe you are ready. So, Ambassador Longbow, do you wish to formerly join our two peoples in this treaty?”

  “Yes. Now.” Damn! That’s not it… What’s that official phrase I’m supposed to say? It certainly isn’t ‘Fuck me, please’ or words to that effect…

  Ezrod pulled himself up on his elbow, quirking an eyebrow at her. He was prompting her response, she could tell. Cherae bit her lip and concentrated hard. “May the gathering of our two peoples…lead to many pleasurable proceed—oh!” She squirmed at the accuracy of his touch on her sensitive clit. “Yes, yes!”

  The emperor laughed. “That’s close enough.”

  Drawing her into his arms, Ezrod rolled over onto his back, encouraging Cherae to straddle his slender hips. Tossing her curtain of hair away from her face, she noticed that practically the entire hall had halted their convivial activities to watch her and the emperor officially cement their planets’ relationship. She hoped she wouldn’t disappoint.

  Cherae took a deep breath, willing her anxious cunt muscles to relax before slowly mounting the emperor’s enormous erection. Inch by inch she lowered herself onto the massive cock, closing her eyes to focus all her attentions to bringing Earth’s newfound ally to completion.

  “You can do it, Cherae.” Was that Jax’s voice coaching her from the crowd? “Ease onto him. Go slow at first.”

  She took Jax’s advice, leisurely rotating her hips in a dance of desire. Ezrod plunged deeper into her, meeting her pivoting motion with a devilishly erotic dance of his own.

  Cherae gasped with the exquisite agony of sensations threatening to overwhelm her as Ezrod glided his length all the way inside her. She fell against his broad hands caressing her breasts. First one, and then the other tender nipple he suckled, savoring her as his tongue teased her nearer the brink.

  “Ooo!” Kay’s rapturous sigh could be heard above the whispers. “I’m about to come again just watching them.”

  Cherae felt the familiar quivering low in her belly. Unlike young Kay, she’d be in deep trouble with the Alliance if she couldn’t contain her enthusiasm.

  “Remember your practice sessions with the well-endowed Captain Brannigan,” Moll reminded her from somewhere to her left. “Breathe deeply.”

  Rafe chuckled nearby. “Yeah, hold back a little until he’s about to blow his wad, then let go. I know how challenging is for you at times, but you can do it. You certainly proved it to me on several occasions.”

  Their kind suggestions helped. Cherae steadied her breathing to a regular pace, concentrating on the spiraling motion of her hips. She reached for her lover’s nipples and gave him a taste of his own medicine, twirling her tongue against his hairless chest in a dizzying array of patterns. Ezrod responded with a deep thrust, and then another.

  Cherae moaned as her trembling pussy threatened to explode with pleasure. “I’m not going to be able to last much longer, your majesty. I apologize.”

  “Apologize? For what? For enjoying my greeting? I will make sure you enjoy it again—and again.”

  “But I thought…I thought…”

  “That we must reach the pinnacle of pleasure together? It is not necessary. But we can if it pleases you.” He rammed his cock relentlessly, quickening his pace. “Does it please you, Cherae?”

  “Yes, it does…oh! Yes! Fuck me hard. Harder…”

  Ezrod showed no mercy as his pelvic gyrations intensified. Grabbing her buttocks firmly, he pounded his huge cock so far into her, Cherae felt as if she’d split in half from the force. She screamed in delight.

  “Is this movement not enjoyable?” he asked. “I will stop if necessary.”

  “Oh, yes… Don’t stop. Don’t stop…”

  The excited murmurs of the crowd grew louder. A chant began to echo throughout the hall. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

  Cherae smiled at their audience’s enthusiasm. A small twitch at the corner of Ezrod’s full lips gave evidence that his exertions were bringing him closer to the edge, too. She tossed her hair over her shoulders, rocking her hips to meet his every plunge. The tensions within built to a dizzying crescendo. Soon she was beyond the point of no return.

  “I’m about to… Oh, Ezrod, please—please!”

  Cherae sensed rather than heard the shrieks exploding from her throat and instantly became deaf, dumb and blind to her surroundings. Her pussy quivered and pulsed with a primal beat of sensuality and surrender. Shudders rattled her body as blood rushed to her brain and shimmering stars rained down upon her soul. With one last massive thrust, Ezod’s cries of ecstasy mingled with her own. Cheers rang throughout the palace halls.

  “To peace and togetherness forever. The treaty is sealed. Friends forever. Let the celebrations begin!”

  The rowdy crowd dispersed into groups and couples intent on pursuing pleasure and spreading peace and goodwill to one and all.

  Collapsing against her lover’s chest, Cherae sighed. His strong arms enveloped her, his kisses caressing her into a state of relaxed bliss. She never wanted to part from his side.

  “You and the Alliance will make fine allies, Cherae Longbow,” Ezrod murmured against her mussed hair. “You will remain to act as liaison between our two worlds for a very long time, will you not?”

  Cherae groggily sat up. She looked deep into Ezrod’s silver-blue eyes, filled with admiration and longing, and grinned. “Of course. I will gladly serve as long as I’m able.” Slipping into his embrace once more, she sighed. “Hmm, this is the life. I always knew there was some other reason besides my language skills why I wanted to become a career diplomat.”

  Heavenly Bodies

  At first, the derelict spacecraft appeared lifeless. Then sensors picked up one slow heartbeat. Mahla mentally altered the ship’s course, steering toward the icy chunk of rock, a small moonlet of a gas giant orbiting a class two star.

  Her multi-tenacled shipmate floated onto the bridge.

  Why did you alter course? Shahla’s thoughts intruded her consciousness to the exclusion of all others. We are expected at the conference on Nagala in less than two time cycles. It isn’t good to frustrate the Hive Mother. She will be angry.

  Of course, she will be angry. Mahla telepathically snapped back at her sister-clone. Hive Mother is always angry. But she did tell us that we were on a goodwill mission, and if that battered piece of metal contains an injured being… It would bring much prestige to the Hive if we saved its life.

  Good thinking. I leave the rescue operation in your able appendages. Shahla glided over to the bio-signs console, scanning the data with her visual tendril. The heartbeat is most unusual. What if the being is a life form unknown to us? Many species find our appearance quite shocking. Shall we do a mind probe first to determine its origin and mental stat
us?

  Yes. You are most wise. Mahla readied the ship’s thrusters to slow their orbit and match the other vessel’s speed. Can you attempt a mental link with the occupant while I ready our ship for docking?

  It will be a pleasure. I enjoy discovering and contacting new life forms.

  * * * * * *

  Frank Rimmer’s last memory before he shut the lid on the cryo-coffin was one of frustration. Complete, utter, pissed-off frustration… Why the hell didn’t Lupitz spot that asteroid barreling at them before it was too late? Ten good crewmembers had been sucked out into the vacuum of space by the impact near the main engines, and twenty more had died from radiation burns within an hour. With only a minute of breathable air left, Frank had switched on the ship’s auto-distress signal and crawled into a cryo-stasis chamber.

  But it would be months—strike that, years—before any Earth vessel would be able to locate and recover the crew’s frozen remains. He included himself in the body count. No one really knew how long a human could stay in a cryo-stasis chamber without completely turning into a non-revivable icicle. He hated the idea of being the first guinea pig to not find out.

  As the cold slowed his vital functions, his mind wandered. Stasis was like an endless sleep. Pleasant, not horrible, but rather predictable. If this was all there was to the afterlife, he could get used to it… Especially if it included angels like those twin calendar girls Lupitz had hung up in the mess hall.

  Now those two ladies were something out of this world! Beautiful platinum blondes, they possessed tits the size of watermelons and asses and hips with more curves than should be legal on a female. Of course, the women crewmembers had protested at first, but then they got their own beefcake calendar, hung it up in the rec hall and declared a truce.

  Man, if he ever got out of this refrigerator, he’d look that pair up and take them out for a wild night on the town in hopes of enjoying plenty of blonde pussy…Then the three of them could settle down on a nice polygamous planetoid somewhere and raise a whole colony of blonde kids. It would be heaven.

  Crewman Rimmer, an ethereal voice sang out. We are here to help you.

  Who are you? Where am I?

  He must be frozen. He couldn’t open his eyes or move or speak, but somehow he was carrying out a conversation with a disembodied voice… Make that two voices. One resonated a bit lower than the other, but both sounded lovely.

  Who we are isn’t important at this time, the second, lower voice intoned. You are on your ship in cryo-stasis. We are accessing the extent of your injuries and repairing the damage to your ship’s hull. When we feel it is safe, we will fully revive you.

  Damn! I wish I could see you two. Are you from Earth or one of the outer planets? Nomadic space miners from the asteroid belt? And how do you know my name? What are your names?

  A pause, the length of a long sigh, and then—

  My name is Mahla, said the lower voice. We are not from Earth. We learned your name and what happened to your ship and crew by probing your unconscious mind.

  In the process, said the higher voice, we awoke you from your deep stasis sleep. Forgive us.

  That’s okay, he replied. I was growing bored. And your name is?

  My name is Shahla. I am a healer and bio-scientist. Mahla is the pilot and engineer.

  Pretty good combination there. Are there any more on your ship?

  No, there are just the two of us, Mahla said. Unlike yours, we do not require many individuals to run our vessels.

  Frank felt something tugging on his leg—the leg that had received a mass of metal splinters when the bulkhead outside of engineering started collapsing. His lungs seemed to be breathing again, too.

  We don’t need lots of crewmembers to run our ship, either, Frank replied, trying his best to impress the female-sounding voices. But it does keep the monotony of space travel to a minimum when you have a few friends to socialize with—ow! There was a sharp pricking sensation, and then the discomfort eased. What are you doing to me?

  Repairing your injuries, Shahla informed him. I regret if my healing causes you pain. You will feel better soon.

  I’m sure I will. He hated being rude to his rescuers, but it was a bit odd having a conversation without being able to see their faces. Can I open my eyes yet?

  No answer. Maybe he was pushing the issue too much. After all, what if he didn’t have any eyes left? They could have turned into ice cubes and melted away when they switched on the ship’s heat for all he knew.

  “Come on, ladies. I really want to see what you two angels look like.”

  Did he actually say that out loud? At least he knew he still possessed a mouth and vocal cords.

  Angels? They simultaneously projected the thought into his mind.

  “Uh, yeah, angels. You know, heavenly beings who come and save poor souls like me from death and loneliness. I just want to thank you two properly. It’s sort of difficult without being able to see you.”

  Is it normal in your culture to ‘thank’ those who render aid? Mahla asked.

  “Yes, it is. We pride ourselves on our good manners. And we are very happy to return the favor if possible.”

  It may not be possible for you to thank us right away, since you need to heal further, Shahla informed him.

  “If not now, then later. Eventually I do want to thank you ladies for your help.”

  Rest now, Mahla commanded. I need Shahla’s assistance with repairs to your vessel. After your rest, you will be able to thank us. We do not wish to cause you grief by not allowing you to practice your customs.

  * * * * * *

  The injection took effect. Crewman Rimmer drifted into a deep, healing sleep.

  Have you probed its mind further to learn more of these ‘angels’? Mahla asked several time units later. She had finished repairing the hull and had regulated the life support and gravity systems so that the Earth being would be able to breathe and function normally after he awoke.

  Shahla finished uploading information from the Earth ship’s computers into her built-in memory unit before approaching her sister-clone. Yes, I have. Angels are heavenly messengers, like Crewman Rimmer told us. No human—as these beings like to call themselves—know what angels look like. And our patient’s mental image of what they look like is interesting to say the least.

  Explain.

  It is best if I show you.

  Mahla drifted down a long passageway behind her sister-clone before entering a larger chamber filled with long, flat structures surrounded by shorter ones.

  This place is called the mess hall. Shahla floated toward a photograph of humans adhered to the back wall. These individuals are called ‘twins’, which is human for sister-clone. These twins are Crewman Rimmer’s idea of what angels resemble.

  Mahla placed a tentacle over the graphic, scanning the details. Is it possible to project this image into his mind when we communicate with him?

  Yes, I believe so. I will administer a drug that will help his conscious mind accept the image as real. Which human do you wish to portray?

  The individual on the right. It has very long appendages on top of its cranial area. Quite fascinating.

  Shahla accessed data from the built-in memory unit encased within her own cranium. These individuals are female in gender. They are addressed as ‘she’. The appendages you speak of are called hair. Humans, as you note, are bipedal and do not possess tentacles, unfortunately.

  I like the hair. Do you mind being the female on the left? Her hair is circular, but equally long.

  Shahla placed a tentacle opposite of Mahla’s choice. Her hair is ‘curly’. Crewmen Rimmer enjoys looking at both these females while consuming sustenance. From what else I’ve gathered from his thoughts, his ‘thanks’ may include physical contact of an intimate nature. Would you be willing to accept this?

  Yes, I would. The Hive Mother told us that we should experience all types of cultures and rituals on our voyage. This is an excellent opportunity. We will be happy to becom
e angels for Crewman Rimmer’s benefit.

  * * * * * *

  “Damn! I feel like I’ve been run over by a lunar dump truck…”

  Frank slowly sat up in the cryo-coffin and carefully cracked open an eye. He hadn’t been dreaming. He was alive and somewhat in one piece. The metal fragments in his shin had been removed, and a clean bandage gave the only indication that he had been wounded. An IV mark on his hand showed that he had been recently rehydrated. The slight radiation burns he had received on his forearms seemed to have healed nicely.

  Scanning the sickbay monitors, he noted that life support was online and functioning. Gravity plating had been switched back on as well.

  The guinea pig had survived.

  “Did I really dream about angels rescuing me?” He combed his fingers through his now slightly longer auburn hair and rubbed his five o’clock shadow. “Man, I really could use a shower and a shave. Let’s see if I can stand up.”

  He attempted to swing his legs around, but the effort was more than he could handle. He flopped backward. “Shit. I’m as weak as syntho-whiskey in a Space Corps enlisted man’s club.”

  “Do you need assistance?” a sweet, tinkling voice asked.

  He jerked his head around, nearly passing out at the heavenly sight that awaited him. “Uh…um… who are you?”

  “I am the female called Shahla.” She approached the cryo-coffin and bent low over him. “Do not move quickly. The cryogenic freezing process has affected your balancing bio-mechanisms. They will return to normal shortly.”

  “N—normal?” He did his best not to drool, but with two large breasts hanging right over his face… Well, it was difficult.

  “You appear to have regained your balance,” she said several moments later. “Shall I aid you?”

  Shahla helped him to a sitting position and stepped back, smoothing her see-through, short black negligee over her ample curves. A sudden stirring in his groin area brought a rush of warmth to his face. Hallelujah! At least his lower half was still in working order.