You don't really know what sand tastes like until you've spent two days with your head at the height of a desert gerbil. No shade on the horizon. Sand as far as the eye can see. "Totally doable." Famous last words. My stubbornness will kill me for real this time. If I had not opted for a djellaba, my body would be 3rd degree burnt. My head is covered with a poor linen scarf to delay the inevitable. I just finished the last sip of my water bottle, it didn't even feel good because the water was so warm.
If I had listened to all the advice given to me, I would be buying some unnecessary souvenirs right now, to bring back for so and so. Yeah, I can picture myself doing that. But I’m just waiting on my stomach for death to come and get me.
It's strange what one thinks about before dying... The last message I sent to my loved ones, the one they will treasure forever although extremely stupid. The very intimate things in the bedside table that those who will empty my apartment will find. The dirty laundry basket someone else will have to take care of. Who will finish the rosé in my fridge? The conversation I wanted to have with an old crush at the upcoming class reunion. My last one-night stand that wasn’t that great. I could have fucked my coworker in the end. While I’m drying out like a prune here he's probably enjoying the air conditioning of the cafeteria. All these savings I could have used, I could have seen Bora Bora. And that revenge on my ex I will never get.
And what will be my very last thought?
I feel myself falling the same way I do when I fall asleep.
I open my eyelids with difficulty. I find myself in a blue cotton dress, lying on big pillows on the floor. I’m alone in a huge tent, full of carpets and fabrics of all colors on the floors and along the sides. To my right, a tea service tray, to my left, the opening of the tent on a sand dune.
My lips are no longer chapped, I’m not thirsty, I’m not dead. How long has passed since I was found and brought back here? The hotel concierge must have alerted people because he was the only one who knew where I was going. I walked in the desert for hours, probably not in a straight line either, no wonder it took days to locate me. I get up to sit down and my head begins to spin. Not quite recovered yet, I pour myself a tea that someone put next to me recently, it's still hot. I stay there, enjoying the bitterness of the leaves for a few minutes and realizing my good fortune. Once my head isn’t foggy anymore, I slowly get up and peek outside. No camel. The sun is beating down and the thought of being on the sand again doesn't appeal to me, so I go back inside until my rescuers return. My djellaba was cleaned up and left to dry on a hanger. My arms smell like orange blossom. The blue dress on my shoulders is not made for travelling in the desert. It’s a dress that goes all the way down to my feet, with a conservative neckline and long sleeves. I was hydrated, washed, dressed with care.
What feels like hours pass. Still exhausted from my adventures, I fall back asleep as soon as the sun sets.
The snort of a horse wakes me up. It’s still dark. Footsteps on the sand approach and a man in a dark suit leans over and enters the tent. He wears a turban that covers his entire face. Only his eyes and hands are uncovered. He brings with him a bag and two small lanterns which he puts between us when he sits down.
His deep blue eyes under the dim light look incredible. The white part makes them contrast with the dark color of his skin. There is something reassuring in his eyes but also a cold nobility.
— Choukrane, I say.
— Glad to see you awake.
He speaks with a slight accent.
— So do I! I owe you my life.
He opens his bag, inside are all kinds of food nuts, dates, dry figs. I want to throw myself on it.
— Help yourself, he says.
I take a little bit at a time not to look impolite, but the frequency with which I dip my hand in the bag betrays my hunger.
— How did you find me?
— I wasn't looking for you.
— You were on my way. It was best leaving you here until you could ride a horse.
His eyes shine in the light. I imagine a man with fine features under that turban. His manners, his way of holding himself make him elegant.
— What are you doing in the desert? Why are you travelling alone? I say.
— I could ask you the same thing.
His eyes narrow and I guess a smile.
I grab a date and ask the question that's been on my mind since he stepped in.
— Are you the one who…
I finish my question by showing the dress.
His yes is so definite that I do not dare asking my subsidiary question. Seeing my embarrassment, he goes on.
— I was respectful, he says. I carried you to the spring and used a cloth for your toilette.
I bow my head to thank him. This man whom I do not see anything saw me completely naked. But his frank gaze makes me believe he didn’t take advantage of the situation.
— We should be sleeping, he says. Since you’re feeling better, I will take you back to the nearest town tomorrow. The road will be long.
— A few hours?
— We’ll have to stop at least once to sleep.
— I was that far away huh… How long did I sleep?
— Tonight will be the third night you spend here.
He gets up, goes back outside to get something, then comes back with blankets.
— The source you were talking about, I say, is it far?
— You haven't gone out at all? It’s right behind the tent.
— Oh. I'm going for a quick wash then...I won’t be long.
He hands me a soap. I pass with a lantern in front of the horse which remains motionless when it sees me.
I didn't realize how cold it was outside, the tent having retained some of the heat of the day.
I stay long enough to clean a few bits I doubt he was able to get to. When I return to the tent, he’s sleeping facing the entrance. I tiptoe in and slip under the blanket behind him.
— The night is going to be cold, he say. Cover up as much as possible. We leave early.
I blow on the candle and we are in the dark. There is not a sound. It is so silent that I can hear the sand moving under us with every little movement we make. How many times has he had to save stupid girls like me?
I can't find sleep. How did I end up two days out of town? Have I been moved?
— I can hear you thinking, he says
— Sorry ... I have so many questions...
— Which I'll answer tomorrow if you don’t mind. Sleep.
— Wake up.
I feel like I closed my eyes two seconds ago. It’s still dark. He hands me a cup of tea. He seems to have been up for a while. He doesn't have puffy eyes like he surely sees on my face.
— I should put my djellaba back on, I say.
— Or you could use it to cover your face. The wind has picked up.
The night has been so short, and the sound of the wind is so calming that I can hardly get going. He observes my laziness, sitting next to me, sipping tea.
— You talk while you sleep, he says.
— I've been told that before. Hope I didn't wake you up.
— I was already up.
— Was I saying anything interesting?
— Let's just say you had a very pleasant dream.
His eyes narrow. A memory of my dream comes back to me. I was in a tub, a faceless man out of nowhere stepped forward and dipped his hand into the bath water to give me pleasure with his hand. I feel myself blushing.
— Don't be embarrassed, he says. We don't control our dreams.
Did I say something intelligible or did I just moan? I don't know what is the least embarrassing. I get up to end this conversation. I get my djellaba and my bag.
— I’m gonna go fill up my flask, I say.
His eyes follow me getting out of the tent. And this tiny little moment makes me aware of everything that has just happened. That I came close to death, that he helped me, that he still helps me. The water cooled down overnight. The sand gently swirls around me. And to think that I thought I was dying and here I am, feeling the grains of sand crashing against my skin. I wish I was there to see what happened when he found me. Was he surprised, distraught, delicate? What did he think when he saw my face? How did he get me here? Did he put me on his horse like a sack or did he sit me up and hold me in his arms? Did he look at me when I was enjoying myself last night? I think back to his piercing gaze.
I’m about to help him fold up his tent, but he is waiting for me on his horse, ready to go.
— You leave it here? I said.
— Yes, this one stays here. Get on.
He holds out his hand to me. I wrap my djellaba around my neck and he pulls me up behind him. He kicks the horse's side with the heel and we’re moving.
— Can I hold you? I say.
In other circumstances it would be something I say to flirt, but I just don't want to fall in the sand today. He allows me to do so and I place my arms around his hips, crossing my hands over his stomach. I can feel his muscles tighten with every step the horse takes in the sand. I'm safe and a bit horny now. The sun is rising on the horizon. The spectacle is breathtaking. Funny how different circumstances make me enjoy the show.
— What do you do in life? Other than saving people in the desert I mean.
— I only do this. I’m paid appropriately for each rescue.
— By whom?
— It's never good for business when a tourist dies in our desert.
— Are you taking days off? Do you have a family?
— I’m not interested in having a family.
How can he endure the desert knowing nothing awaits him?
— But you don't miss...
— Love? Women? Don't you miss that?
— I get what I need when I come back to town, don't you worry.
— About that... I wish there was a way I could thank you for everything you've done for me.
I tighten my embrace. I've been lowering my hands on his stomach for the last ten minutes. He does not seem to have noticed because his attitude hasn’t changed but the tips of my fingers now brush his crotch with each step the horse takes.
— You don't owe me anything, I only do what is expected of me.
— I almost died…You can take full advantage of me before bringing me back if you want. That would make me happy.
— This is a service that I do not offer.
He says it with so much confidence that I remain silent. Have I offended him? I take a little distance by putting my hands back on his stomach.
The silence that follows is so long that I fall asleep on his back and wake up when he catches me with one hand to prevent me from falling.
— Drink some water and come on the front, he says.
I follow his advice, a little apprehensive however at the idea of finding myself in his arms.
He hoists me onto the horse, and we set us on the road again. We go up a dune and I find myself pressed against him. Not that it displeases me, on the contrary, but since he refused my offer, I find myself in a little mental torture until the ground is flat again.
— How did you transport me when I was unconscious?
— Just like that. It's not ideal but it’s easier to keep someone from falling.
I imagine the journey. My limp body to have to squeeze in his arms. He must be used to it though. If he hasn't opted for a better solution it probably means it’s the most convenient for him.
He always answers my questions but stays on the surface. The mystery surrounding him excites me a little. I still haven't seen his face, just his eyes. And he remains so cold, distant. Usually, I’m the one turning people down. Feeling his lower abdomen against my butt makes my interest grow.
— You didn't even tell me your name.
— You never take off your turban, Ishmael?
— Force of habit.
— Could you show me your face?
— Just so I know who I'm talking to.
I turn to see him.
— So ? I say
— No, you couldn’t resist me.
He stifles a laugh and I feel like I've cracked the code.
— Do you want me to confirm? I say. There is definitely a time when you’ll have to take a sip anyways, right?
He stops the horse and slaps me on the thigh to move. He gets off the horse too and grabs his flask. He shows it to me, pulls what looks like a straw on the mouthpiece, places it under his turban and drinks, laughing.
I get so close to him that he has to look down in and I up.
— Come on, no games, show me your face, I say.
I play with my eyelashes to make him flinch. There is pride in his gaze, and a hint of mischief. I think he likes the way I talk to him. No doubt I would have seen his face by now if I hadn't bothered him so much about it.
— The wind is picking up, we must take shelter quickly. Come on.
And he wasn't wrong. In less than an hour, the wind is so strong that I don't regret being able to cover my face. We find refuge between rocks which block the storm pretty well. He puts a mesh on the face of his horse to protect it against the sand and I help him as best I can to put up a small tent.
— What do you do when you’re stuck that to pass the time? I say.
— Whether I'm alone or not.
His answer surprises me. I tell myself not to jump to conclusions. He said he wasn’t interested after all.
— Do you want to chat?
— Do you wanna have a little fun then?
He shakes his head.
— So what do we do? Are we looking each other in the eye until the wind stops?
— We sleep.
He lays down, crushing my hopes to pass the time more sympathetically. He crosses his hands over his stomach and closes his eyes. Maybe in reality I'm dead and this tent is a purgatory, some kind of test to know if they should send me on the pure side or not and maybe he was sent to tempt me. I too lay down with my back to him.
Who is sleepy at noon? Not me. I try though but the wind is too loud. I turn around and, to my surprise, the fabric of his turban fell off and I can now see what was under it. I had come to think he was hiding a bad scar or something, but it isn’t the case. His nose is long and straight, his mouth is fine, a very light black beard covers his skin. He must be in his forties, but maybe all that sun and sand has aged him. His peaceful face makes me feel safe as the storm shakes the tent.
Now that I've seen who I'm dealing with, sleeping next to him really tickles me. His breath on the back of my neck awakens my skin, which begs for a lips caress. I would love to feel him between my legs, let him do what…
I hear him swallow. The steady breath in my neck suddenly stopped. Is he awake?
I pretend to have a sexy dream, mumbling, moaning softly. I wait a bit, see if it moves behind me but nothing, not a noise, as if he had vanished.
I moan again but this time I add "Ishmael..."
I get horny on my own with all my moans.
— I know you are not sleeping, he whispers.
His voice travels though my ear to my inner-thighs. I continue to pretend I’m asleep. He moves behind me. He gently presses his body against mine. Even if I asked for it, I was not ready. The heat between my legs suddenly increases and I try my best to breath normally.
— You're a temptress. You seek my attention...
He grabs the hem of my dress and runs his hand under it. He brushes my skin with his fingertips, caressing my bare legs and it causes an irrepressible moan.
— …You have it.
— I thought you didn't provide that kind of service.
— Well, I help people in need, I give water to those who are thirsty.
His hand makes its way behind my knees, behind my thighs, up to my butt where he finds, tucked under my tight legs, my sex already swollen with desire. This brushing will drive me crazy. He spreads my lips gently.
I turn to watch him. He had put his turban back on his face. I could lose myself in his eyes. He lifts his coat up above the knees. He takes my hand and places it on his erection. I feel hair, I feel a stiff vein along his hard-on. My body arches at the thought of feeling it stir inside of me.
— Please… I say.
He chuckles. He uncovers it completely and I see it, pointed in my direction. I can't believe he offers his cock rather than his face. Whose the thirsty one? I want to feel his hairy balls smacking against my body. I can’t take it anymore.
He slowly rubs his body against mine, his cock slipping in my crack, playing between my cheeks.
— You're going to drive me crazy! Fuck me!
He slides a finger in me. It’s not much, but it’s so good it stops my whining. I move back and forth on his hand. The slippery noises it makes turns me on.
I get up, remove my dress and find myself naked in front of him. I crouch down next to him, take his hand and place it on my heavy breast. His rough desert savior hand grabs it, feels me. He closes his eyes. His cock taunts me, I want it. I'm about to mount him but he stops me.
— What? What? I say.
— It's my service, not yours.
He flips me around like a pancake and spoons me, grabbing my wrists on top of my head. With a slow, almost limp motion, he pushes his cock in my body. He comes out and in again with a lascivious thrust, and it's like my mouth is tasting his cock inch by inch.
— There, he said as if to calm me down. You have it.
It does calm my nerves. Finally experiencing the thickness of his cock invading is a delight. He keeps moving slowly. His firm balls touch my thighs every four seconds which makes me miss and enjoy his cock at the same time.
— It's so good, I say. Don’t stop…
He takes a long breath, as if to give himself the strength not to come immediately.
My lips sucks it each time he moves back. He lets go of my wrists and comes to stroke me in the front, just as slowly. All the sensations intensify.
— I want to see your face, I say. I want to see you when you lose your mind.
— You just have to lift...
I turn around and take of the fabric from his face. He smiles at me.
— Does that change anything? he says.
He leans in and puts his lips on my neck. A shiver runs down my back as he continues to move in me in long rolls of the hips.
I turn my face to offer him my mouth. He takes it like he takes my body, fervently. This slowness, this softness drive me absolutely nuts.
The sucking sound of our mouths, of our bodies is too much. He rubs the launch button, stroking it firmly from within with the tip of his cock. Everything is done in slow motion and my orgasm goes up the same way. My body contorts with the pleasure. He's not picking up the pace. The long pleading moan that comes out of my mouth surprises me and keeps me going. It’s like he's bringing me back to life from within. He explodes in me, screaming his orgasm in my ear, filling me up of his most precious sap. He gives a last reflex discharge in my body, before pulling out and leaving me full.
And to think I could have never experienced any of this…
Someone taps on the shoulder and I open my eyes. I'm back in the first tent.
There he is, sitting next to me, his face covered again, sipping tea.
— You talk while you sleep, he says.
— It looks like you had a very pleasant dream.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 6/17/2021
Twelve years ago, Alpha Leonis said he had a lucid dream. The “Heavenly waves” – as he calls them – informed him that the end of our civilization was going to take place during his lifetime and begged him to create a people whose goal would be to repopulate the Earth. It's as stupid as it sounds but it was convincing enough for forty people to follow him and his new life purpose.
Initially, the guru was living with his followers in the Alps, but his cult Stars of Life was quickly spotted by the forest guards. 48 hours of police custody were enough for Antoine Mailleux (his real name) to move his cult as far as possible, in the Andes mountains.
My editor wanted me to infiltrate Stars of Life for a few weeks, just enough to write a report of the cult’s state, ways of life and activities.
— That’s all great Jean-Marc, but I doubt they have WI-Fi there. What if something happens to me?
— Fabien agreed to it already, I want him to take the pictures and he could protect you too.
The subject was back on the agenda on a weekly basis. To keep saying no made me look bad, so I ended up agreeing to it too.
Thanks to an old investigation, we knew where they were located, which was about a two-day hike from La Oroya. Other than that we were heading to the unknown. Fabien and I spent a long day coming up with details for our cover, in the event that the cult did connect to the outside world after all. We decided our names would be “Aurore” and “Raphaël”, we met in a vacation club, we’ve been married for three years, we cannot stand our routine anymore, we want to give a real meaning to our lives, etc.
That's how we ended up here, bivouacking in the middle of the Andes forest with a Peruvian guide. After an exhausting journey, we arrive at the entrance of a village made of mud huts. Crouching in a vegetable garden, a woman sees us and runs towards the central hut, the biggest one, shouting “Excellence!”. It starts off strong.
Fabien takes a quick photo before other followers see us. I only see about fifteen huts. After a decade in the Andes, it seems like the Stars of Life don’t reproduce very fast.
A man in a blue toga and a large group of people come out of the hut to see what is going on.
— ¡Hola mis amigos! ¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?, he shouts from afar.
We thank our guide, who leaves us promptly. I whisper to Fabien that we must get into our characters right away because they’re approaching. I expected to see long beards, unkempt hair, muddy faces. The men and women are combed, groomed, all in beige togas. The color coding makes him easily recognizable within the group even though everyone here knows who the guru is. Rather tall, brown long straight hair tied with a single elastic, eyes crinkled with a welcoming smile. I had seen photos of him before leaving, but seeing him now in real life, I must admit I find him a bit impressive. I can now witness the charm of the conman.
He extends a hand to Fabien and I.
— Bonjour, Fabien says.
— Oh you guys are French! That’s so great!
Obviously, there is no shortage of toothbrushes here because he could blind me with his pearly teeth.
— Tell me everything! What brings you here?
We spend the afternoon giving them all the details they want to know and we sometimes improvise what we didn’t anticipate. Everyone listens to us with interest, it's borderline intimidating. “Raphaël” even gets carried away, telling them he has a camera in his bag, which luckily didn’t seem to bother them.
— You know, says Alpha Leonis, we do not have electricity here. You can only recharge your batteries when some of us will be going to town next week.
I look around. We all sit on the ground on a carpet made of woven foliage. The women all lovingly look at the guru, men look at him with pride in their eyes. They gave each other star names like Beta Orionis or Gamma Pegasi...And since we tell them our intention to stay, they assign us star names as well. Fabien then becomes Beta Virginis and I Gamma Virginis. It sounds like the only Alpha-Something here is the guru, the men are Betas and the women are Gammas. A tad cheesy.
I leave Beta Virginis with the men and I’m getting closer to a group of Gammas who are preparing dinner. They have plenty of questions about France, which I answer, feigning my lack of interest for my own country.
— Sorry to be technical, I say, but... Where could we sleep tonight?
They all offer their hut, which goes straight to my heart but also indicates the thirst for new faces around here.
— What about the meals? I see there are many huts but you are all staying here, in the largest one... You always eat together?
A young woman who probably arrived here as a kid, teaches me that the other huts are only used for sleeping at night or for improvised teachings, that they spend the majority of their time in the central hut. When I ask who the couples are, they answer in unison “Alpha is our husband”.
— But you came here alone or with a boyfriend, husband?
— Some of us were accompanied, answers another woman.
— And the men let you marry Alpha? I mean… they let you go with him at night, all that?
I want to know if the guru claimed them all for sex and why the men would agree to that. I hear nervous, shy laughs. Another woman replies:
— It is an honor for men to offer their companion to Alpha.
— I don’t think Beta Virginis will agree to share me!
They laugh. And then one of them say:
— Oh, he will, you’ll see.
The potato soup arrives. Everyone regroups to sit on the floor even though there are tables and chairs around. Fabien sits down next to me. Alpha Leonis speaks.
— My dear friends, today is a very special day…
(I wonder what they eat on regular days if today is a treat.)
— …Two new people have joined us and we will welcome them as we should, by offering a teaching…
We look at each other with Fabien, honored, but a little apprehensive.
Alpha Leonis asks that two Gammas join him on the stage in the center of the room.
— …Dear newcomers, you are not without knowing the purpose of our existence here. Tonight, you will be witnessing our efforts to fulfill our destiny…
How didn’t I notice there are no children here?
— For the occasion, I will demonstrate in front of you an apprenticeship with Gamma Sagitarii and Gamma Cephei. Then you will be able to follow and do your learning with the people of your choice…
I look at Fabien with fear in my eyes. Are they going to make us do things right off the bat? Rite of passage or trick to make sure we are sincere?
Four followers start playing a slow rhythm with drums and congas. The room starts humming "Oms".
I glance at Fabien, as stunned as me. It definitely feels like a cult now.
Their eyes are glued to the stage but I can feel side looks from time to time, to check our reactions. I just smile, probably looking tense, keeping my eyes on the stage. The two Gammas turn around Alpha Leonis, moving their bust in an obvious game of seduction, the movement of their breasts under the gowns reveals the lack of bra. They dance around him as if it was all an innocent game. But then they grab the toga at the guru's feet and pull it upwards to remove it completely. He finds himself completely naked in front of us, just like that, with the beginning of an erection. The excitement is felt in the room. The “Oms” are stronger, the rhythm of the congas faster. Fabien and I are in shock but we’re trying not to let anything show.
— We offer our bodies to the Heavenly waves for procreation, he says.
And everyone in the room repeats the phrase. I am between the giggles and — I must admit — a slight arousal. It's not every day you see people naked, in these conditions.
Alpha Leonis then lies down on his back. The two Gammas squat on either side of him.
— Gamma Sagitarii, he continues, help the procreator in his task. He must be ready.
The guy talks about himself using the third person…Unbelievable.
Gamma Sagitarii takes the guru’s sex delicately in her hands, leans over and puts it in her mouth. The congas are accelerating. She eats it with so much devotion that it causes a slight tug in my lower abdomen. No one around reacts, not even Fabien who does not miss a thing. The show is surreal.
Once the guru is stiff with desire, he asks the two young women to remove their gowns, which they do without flinching and they also find themselves naked on stage.
— Gamma Sagitarii and Cephei, make your move.
As if they do this every day, they understand what Alpha Leonis means. Gamma Sagitarii turns backwards, inserts his penis in her before rubbing against his body. Her hips movements are so lascivious that I feel my body wanting it.
As for Gamma Cephei, she comes to sit on the face of the guru, who grabs her thighs and begins to lick her. The two Gammas seem happy to give him pleasure. They don’t hold any moaning back. The room is still humming but I start feeling the thirst for sex in the audience. My body seems to be enjoying the craziness of all this. I whisper to Fabien “this is nuts!” to which he replies “That bastard is the happiest man!”.
The minutes pass. They are really enjoying themselves on that stage. And finally, the guru gets up. With a strong, glistening cock in front of us, he looks in my direction so intensely that a very dirty thought crosses my mind. He puts Gamma Sagitarii in front of him on all fours and asks the two young women to kiss each other as he grabs Sagitarii’s hips and penetrates her. They kiss with obscene tongues. He watches them, jaw clenched. He thrusts his way harder into her, his flesh smacking against her offered body. He stares at me again. A look full of confidence, defying even, to make me understand he’s the boss here, that women do whatever he wants, that it could be me on stage with him if he decided to.
— Go now, he says to his audience, it is your time to teach and to learn.
Fabien and I look at each other in panic.
Now what? Congas stopped, the "Om" as well since the followers start their business right there and then. Most of them are already naked and have created small groups. Five of them come towards us. Seeing our distress from the stage, Alpha Leonis, in full effort, says:
— As I have not yet married you, Gamma Virginis, you can do it with your current husband, exceptionally.
— Could we do that in private instead? replies Fabien right away.
Still going back and forth in Sagitarii’s body like there is no tomorrow, he says:
— Take the hut of your choice then!
I feel so relieved.
We get up quickly to leave, but he calls from the stage:
— Come here, Gamma Virginis.
My contract doesn’t say I have to do whatever he asks me to do, but I need to play the game long enough to get enough for a story, so I approach the scene and end up a few inches from him and the two Gammas touching each other. From there, I can see that he’s in fact sodomizing Sagitarii. I want to tell him he’ll never get a child that way but I have a feeling he already knows that.
He plants his eyes in mine and with a little smile, says:
— You’ll think of me when you come tonight.
And he starts screaming like an animal, his eyes fixed on mine, as if his orgasm was just for me. I don’t know how he does it, but this arouses me so much I can feel the heat between my thighs.
Fabien takes me outside where it is now dark.
— What the fuck was that? he says.
— They offered us a giant orgy!
— This is so sick. But, interestingly enough, I have quite the boner.
— Too much information, Fabien.
— If we have to stay here for weeks, we’ll likely fuck like everybody else, so let’s be chill about this.
He's right. We either stop everything now and sneak out – which is impossible without a guide – or we enter the game and we’ll eventually see each other naked, at the very least. I certainly hadn't signed up for that.
— Did you hear he wants to marry me? Who does he think he is!
— He set this whole thing up just to have all the sex he wants, no doubt.
— What do we do now?
— Are you a little excited?
— What?! No!
— Really? Not even a little bit?
— Well… Maybe a little bit.
Behind us, in the central hut, the groans of followers rise. They really sound like beasts. In the middle of the night, surrounded by the forest, it feels like a very exciting joke.
— We can do whatever we want, I say, I don’t think they’ll notice.
Fabien never attracted me. He's not really my type but I’m so horny and he has a hard on, so that’s pretty much a match made in heaven.
— Ethically speaking, I say, we probably should only go play cards in that hut.
— Or we could relieve the pressure and take this as the best way to not blow our cover?
— Will it stay between us when we return to Paris?
— You don’t need to say.
— Do you have condoms?
— As a matter of fact, I do!
I no longer want to stop this train which has already left.
— You know, he chuckles, you're my wife here. So technically we're not doing anything wrong.
We enter a small hut and light the candle in the entrance. I was so far from thinking about having sex with him ten minutes ago. It may be the circumstances, the fact that we are far from everything, but I feel like I need this.
I approach him and take the condom from his hands.
— Let me do it.
He looks at me, surprised.
— Remember I'm your wife, so technically...
He laughs. I unbuckle and lower his pants. I find his cock, already tensed and this makes me want to be manhandled even more. I open the package and unroll the condom on him. I’m so ready but somehow a little nervous.
— Shhh, he says as if he wanted to reassure me.
He puts a finger under my chin to make me look in his eyes. He leans in to taste my mouth and then introduces a hungry tongue. Our moans betray our furious desire. He brings me down to the ground. I take off my shorts and my panties in a swift movement, while our mouths are still locked to each other. He places himself between my legs. His hands run through my hair and his cock penetrates my body without resistance.
— Wow… It feels like you really wanted this, he says.
— Shut up, Virginis! Focus on your marital duty.
He stirs in my body, searching our pleasure in the right place. The face of the guru suddenly appears in my mind: the way he was looking at me while crying out his orgasm and his pretentious “you’ll think about me when”…
The orgy noises in the background adds to my thirst. Fabien rolls his hips on me so well that I’m already close. My muscles clench his body as if I wanted to feel the veins of his cock from the inside. A heat radiates in my core. I can feel the warmth in my face and I know very well what this means.
— Do you mind if I come now? I say.
— Already? Am I that good?
He doesn’t even stop, he keeps a steady pace. I find myself thinking about the guru between my legs. His cock inside me would feel so good.
— Fuck me! I beg.
Fabien gives more energetic thrusts in my body.
It could be him, pounding my flesh with his. His face, his eyes on me…
— Slow down, I say. Slow down, slow down...Oh...Oh!
My orgasm comes with lusting images of the guru filling me with his sperm. Fabien, hearing my cries, does not hold back any longer and offers me the sound with the images.
He gives me three strong thrusts to sign his pleasure.
— Holy fuck! He says in a sigh.
It is while catching our breath, my legs opened and Fabien still inside me that I notice Alpha Leonis and the two Gammas at the door, looking at us with broad smiles. I’m not even moving. I’m very curious to know what he’s thinking about, seeing my half-naked body.
— Do you mind if we come in? he says without waiting for the permission to do so.
I secretly want Fabien to be fine with this, because I’m so fine with this.
Fabien looks at me as if to say “I’m ok with it if you’re ok with it.” to which I nod. He seems as thirsty as I am.
The two Gammas pull Fabien by the arm and they go in the corner of the room. Alpha Leonis, stands in front of me and peeks between my thighs.
— Did you think about me? He says replacing the collar of his toga.
— I don’t understand what you mean.
— Did thinking about me help you come?
Lust makes me want to share with him.
— Good. I want you do to something for me.
I reply “anything!” in my mind and realizes how crazy I’ve become.
— I want you to touch yourself while watching your husband pleasuring them.
— And then?
— What do you mean and then?
— What about you?
— I’ll watch you.
— And then?
— That’s it. I’m just here to observe.
My body craves his cock and nothing else, but he might give it to me if I touch myself. So I put my hands between my legs and start stroking my slit.
In front of me, the two Gammas rub their naked bodies against Fabien. He has not lost his erection.
— How does it feel? says Alpha.
— To watch them?
— Are you jealous?
I know he wants me to say yes, so I’m using the fact that I’m jealous of them having fun in front of me instead of us to answer him.
— Yes, very.
— Good. Do you want to make him jealous?
— Yes, very much so.
I come to my senses for a brief second, realizing I’m touching myself in front of Fabien who's getting into more serious action with two complete strangers. This is completely insane!
— Are you taking any pleasure? He asks.
— Sure, but I usually need a little help from a friend.
Fabien is penetrating Gamma Cephei on all four while Sagitarri caresses his balls and kisses him ferociously.
— Once we’re married, says Alpha, you’ll give me great pleasure.
— You’re so sure of that!
— I am.
— I didn’t know coming here that marrying you was part of the whole thing.
I stand up and face him. I look at him straight in his eyes.
— You’ll never have my body.
— Oh yes, I will.
— No. You’ll watch me do all the men here before I do you.
— How can you be so sure of yourself?
— You’re already mine.
He puts his hand between my thighs. Feeling his fingers right there feels so good I don't make a move. He inserts his index inside of me, watching the reactions on my face.
I want this fucker so bad…
He takes off his hand and leaves me hanging for more.
— Back on the ground, he says.
I lay on the ground and don’t even wait for him to say anything before touching myself again. I really want that release to be able to face that guy the only way I should face him: professionally.
— Stop! He says.
— Yes, stop, he says grabbing my hand. You’ll come when I’ll tell you to come.
What an irritating man. My pleasure was right there, just a few rubs away. He takes a chair, positions it in front of the threesome and sits on it.
— Come sit on my lap, he orders to me.
The thought turns me on so quickly I don’t feel like refusing. I sit on his lap, making sure to place my naked butt against his abdomen. The toga is thin, I can fell his cock underneath, beating with desire.
— Take off your shirt and lean on me.
I take of my top, my bra, and lean back on him so he can have a great view of my breast over my shoulder. I’m so wet I feel I’m staining his clothes.
— Watch them, he says.
One of the girl has Fabien’s dick in her mouth, the other one his balls, he’s so ready to come it’s visible.
— Tell me what you desire, he whispers in my ear like a snake.
His warm breath in my neck causes delicious shivers down my spine.
— Caress me again.
— Hmm… Good girl.
His hand makes his way between my legs. He plants two fingers in me and starts rubbing his palm against my clitoris. I’m so close…
— Why are you here? he asks.
I suddenly realize he may not be a naive as I thought he was.
— I wanted to find a greater purpose in life.
He takes off his hand and once again I feel the pulse stopping on the way up.
— No, why are you really here?
— I want to help with the destiny of our people.
He grabs my breast in his hands and caresses me, kisses me all over my neck.
— Tell me why you’re really here.
I feel stuck, caught in a lie.
— I don’t know why you want to hear.
— That you’re a cop...Or a journalist…
He slowly kisses my collarbone. I stay silent, not knowing where he’s going.
— …That you came here with an agenda, but your your agenda changed since you've met me.
— Is this what you want to hear?
— Then yes, I’m a journalist, I came here to write a column, I…
He puts his hand back between my legs and plunges his fingers in me.
— … I didn’t know that I would feel that way, I say.
— What way? Say it.
— I want you… I want you to fuck me so hard…
Satisfied by my response, he pulls up his toga and my butt now rubs against his cock.
— Do you want it? he says.
— Yes, yes please.
He lifts me up a and penetrates me on the way down. His cock is finally in me and I could scream right now. He fills me so nicely. His balls are so firm with desire.
— Lean back on me, watch them.
He moves in and out of me as best he can, I place my hand on top of his between my legs and I can feel his cock going back and forth in me with the tip of my fingers.
— You’re so professional, he says, going above and beyond for a column…
— Yes, and you love it, am I right?
— Good girl.
I feel the warmth back on my face.
— Look at them.
Fabien is releasing the pressure on Cephei and Sagitarri’s breasts, moaning like an animal.
— Now, come for me, he whispers in my ear.
I let him use me, completely offered in his arms and I come so fast, almost on command. My body is shaking, my heart is racing. I’m such a slut for letting myself go like this. I’m fucked by a weirdo in the middle of nowhere and it feel so good I can’t control my screams. My body eats his cock so frantically that I feel like I would fall from the chair if he didn’t hold me.
— I told you so, he says once I’m back on Earth.
I look at Fabien, he looks back at me, we’re not even in shock. I don’t know what they put in the potato soup here but definitely not a spoon of boundaries…
— Now, Alpha says, let’s talk about an arrangement for that article you want to write.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 5/13/2021
Since firefighters aren’t paid their worth, they hold public parties at their fire stations, every 14th of July, to make some extra cash. I never been to one but my friend Carrie goes to their Ball every year since her brother takes care of the sound system. She insisted for me to join this year, advising me to bring a lot of 2€ coins, which is what the shot of alcohol cost.
I grew up in the countryside, where firefighters are usually retired guys or young volunteers from high-school, so I wasn't expecting much showing up at the 7th district station, other than flirting with random dudes, drinking, dancing, flirting a little harder, raising the elbow a little higher and crawling through the door at the end of the evening.
This is not exactly what happened.
On arrival, seeing them in their black t-shirt with the red stripe, standing straight like Douglas firs in their black boots, I thought all the regular guys who showed up had some crazy confidence because hello competition! But the first thing I hear over the loud music is: "Come on, let's go, the girls are all over them."
I'm looking for Carrie, who I just texted, telling her I arrived. I find her next to her brother, begging him to play "Call on Me" so that she can go rub herself against a few abdomens. Sylvain refuses, telling her that song was already reserved for something to come.
She comes with me to buy my first drink.
Bar tables in the courtyard are improvised, with cups already filled with punch and mojitos. Three firefighters are on the other side and one of them tells me:
— Good evening, need a stiff one?
The other two laugh. They’re lucky they're cute. I take a mojito and put one coin in their pot. The cheeky man winks at me before I turn around.
— Are they all like that? I ask Carrie once we're in the distance.
— They're nice, aren't they? I’d love to find Thibault so I could introduce you. He is the one with whom…you know…last year.
We dance, we sweat, we taste mojitos, and then the siren resounds and the music suddenly stops. Four firefighters stand on tables in each corner of the room. They wear the fire outfit and white masks cover their faces.
The girls are screaming.
The music Carrie wanted to put on earlier blows through the speakers. The firefighters start to move their hips in rhythm and it is hysteria. The girls press against the tables, raise their arms to touch them. I glance at the more senior firefighters watching the scene from afar. The show makes them laugh.
It’s not every day you get to see life heroes dancing seductively in front of you. Is the fireman who served me earlier behind one of these masks? The thought is exciting. Suddenly, they take off their jackets and find themselves bare chested, in suspender pants. The chick next to me puts two fingers in her mouth, hisses, and almost pops my eardrum.
You can say beauty is not everything, but when you’re just underneath it, you become a little bit of a beast. I don't even move fearing a movement would make me miss something.
As if they decide to finish us off, they drop the suspenders and in the same gesture their pants.
God damn it, that's too much fresh flesh in front of me! I knock back my mojito in one gulp.
One girl, completely hammered, climbs on one table and starts dancing with one of them. He doesn't even reject her. That gives two other girls the same idea.
Maybe I should too?
How many times in a lifetime can you touch the sweaty skin of a handsome fireman, huh?
I did not dare. I still know how to handle myself with a few drinks. But I am very jealous.
And the music ends, they grab their clothes on the ground and they leave as quickly as they came, in boxers.
With all this excitement I decide to go hydrate with alcohol (I know). The fireman who poured my drink earlier isn’t here.
— Isn't your friend here? I say to the other two.
— Who? Jerem?
— Maybe? Short brown-hair, about that height...
— Yeah, it's Jerem. He will be back soon. Do you want a drink?
— What's your name?
He hands me a cup with a large smile.
— Bottoms up, Melody?
His mischievous look tempts me too much, I finish the glass in five sips.
— Nice! he says, applauding. Here, I'll give you a free one.
I insist on paying for my two drinks but he asks for a kiss on the cheek instead.
Did I pass away? Me…being…in…Heaven... Right?
Going back to the dance floor, Carrie tells me I'm popular. But it’s the Jerem guy who I’m really interested in now. I liked his little wink and I have the impression — I could be wrong — that it was him on the table next to me during the striptease.
— This fire station is insane! I say. Do they hire them on photo or what!
— They put the cute ones in the front, it increases their pot, that's all.
The head of the station himself invites me to dance a salsa. I graciously accept, telling him I cannot refuse an order from the chief, which delights him. He's in his fifties and wants to have fun. So here I am, the queen of the salsa. It’s possible the three mojitos are helping. It is also possible the observing eyes of the other firemen boost my confidence. I have never had so much success! Fortunately, he holds me tight because I can feel the alcohol rising.
The song ends and he offers me a ticket for a free drink.
It's definitely not how they'll make money... So I go to the table to get yet another cocktail. Jerem is back.
— Are you enjoying your evening? he asks.
— Was it you on the table earlier?
He does not respond, but his smirk answers for him.
— Did you like the show? he says
— You guys shouldn't do things like that! I have a heart disease.
— Good thing you're in a fire station then.
— You like giving heart massages, is that it?
I’m loving the very obvious flirt vibe, how he's failing to stay professional, enjoying himself in the process.
— So, he says, need a stiff one?
Colleagues are still laughing. The alcohol makes me daring.
— Are we still talking about cocktails or are you proposing something that doesn't fit in that cup?
The colleagues laugh even more. And it looks like I just piqued his interest.
He invites me to dance, which I accept (of course).
He goes around the table and shows me the way, lightly pressing my back with his hand. This little touch sends heat to the pit of my stomach.
He dances in front of me, and I suddenly find it difficult to support his gaze. Flirting is always easy until things become a bit more serious. He plays with the awkwardness, staring at me. He puts his hand on my back to bring me a little closer. His moving hips, rubbing against mine, are making me so wet... I put my hands on his arms, their firmness aren't helping my case. I furiously wants him inside me now. I would let him take me as he sees fit.
I move closer, I want him to feel my breasts against his chest.
— Uh-oh, he said in my ear. You're gonna start something if you keep going…
He plants his eyes in mine. Feeling a bulge against my body triggers a shiver down my spine. He turns me on so much my body speaks its mind out loud:
— I always wanted to see the hose of a fireman deploy.
He bursts out laughing.
— Oh you dirty, dirty girl!
— I swear, it really, really, really has quickly become the biggest dream of mine.
He glances around, as if to verify no one is seeing us — or the other way around, I can’t tell.
— Do you want to visit the station?
He is serious, which almost makes me sober up.
— Are there girls who say no to that?
He seems to hesitate for two seconds and then he takes me by the hand.
— Come on, I'll show you.
My heart beats much faster than the music, and yet Sylvain is playing some techno right now.
We pass by the toilets, where a long line up of girls see us heading towards the corridor of the private quarters. I know very well what awaits me, that they may think I’m a slut, but tonight I wear vice as a badge of honor. I was chosen by a living God, I am the chosen one, get dressed Ashleys!
The music dissipates as we walk in this long corridor lit with white neon lights, way too bright for my eyes. While the crowd is far behind us, our footsteps can be heard again, a monstrous stage fright takes hold of me. What if he's used to all of this? What if I didn't live up to his expectations? It's nice to play tease but now...
He brings me into a room that seems to be his bedroom. It's a military style, very clean, simple. A bed, a table, a chair, a wardrobe. Nothing lying around.
He closes the door and turns to me.
— You can go out anytime, okay? You don't have to do anything you don’t want to.
Is he crazy or what? Has he ever tried to resist himself? Clearly not.
I steal his mouth. He grabs my face. His tongue makes its way between my lips and mingles avidly with mine. His mouth is slightly sweet, his moans set my body on fire. I run my hand over his pants and find an erection that could pop his fly. I pull his shirt up, our mouths part. There he is, shirtless in front of me. I run my fingers over his pecs.
— It was you! I say. No doubt.
— It was me, yes.
— You know, it was mysterious, that mask. To be honest, it turned me on a little bit.
— Oh yeah? Hold on.
He opens his closet, takes out the white mask and puts it back on his face.
OH FUCK I want him to fuck me like this.
He surely sees the lust in my eyes, because he says:
— Would you like it if I kept it?
My cheeks and my sex are on fire.
— You have no idea, I say, how much I want you to mess me up.
— Take off your jeans, sit on the bed.
Is he even aware that order alone could make me come at this point? I obey and find myself in underwear in front of him. I take off my top too. I hear a satisfied "Hm", muffled behind the mask.
He approaches and, with a movement of the hand, makes me spread my legs. He leans over and runs his fingers over the fabric. He kneels in front of me, grabs each side of my panties and pulls them down my legs. He plays the game, accentuating his head movements since I cannot see anything except his eyes. I hear him breathe behind the plastic. He seems to be as horny as I am. He admires the view between my thighs.
— I would lick you so well, he says, but for that I would have to remove the mask and I wouldn’t want to reveal my identity.
I feel like I'm in the best porn in the world. He is perfect.
— Put a finger then, or two...
My flesh is longing to feel his. Every second that passes is torture. I want to feel his weight on me, I want him to pound me like a vulgar doll, to hear him moan when he cums.
He pulls his thumb up inside me. He knows very well what he is doing. He shouldn't do too good of a job, I want to last a little bit more. Fortunately, he stops and gets up.
He is about to take off his pants but I stop him. He comes back to me. I pull down his zipper, sneak my hand in his boxers, grab his cock and pull it out of his pants. He takes a condom out of his pocket, opens it and unrolls it over his erection. I watch him do it, clearly experienced.
— Keep your pants, your boots, your mask. I want to fuck my fantasy.
He sneers behind the mask.
— As you please, miss.
He makes me get up, pops my bra. My nipples could cut glass.
— I want to see your breasts move.
— Well, let's everyone be happy.
He sits me down on the table and places one of my legs on the chair next to it. I can't wait any longer.
He approaches and puts the tip of his cock against me, teasing me for a second that feels like minutes. Feeling him about to enter my body turns me on so much I could scream. He pushes gently then goes in all the way, which makes me moan like I was deprived of sex for years.
There is a mirror behind the door and I can see some of the action. Watching his butt contracting in the effort while feeling the thrusts is unreal. I just hope he won't choke behind that mask, he's breathing so hard.
— I want you to cum in my ass, I say.
He stops short.
— Are you serious?
I do not need to beg him, I turn around, lean on the table and spread my legs. He continues to come and go inside me, while preparing my little hole with his fingers.
To feel someone introduce something there always turns me into a complete slut. I only offer my ass when it's deserved, or when I really want to get fucked hard.
He withdraws and puts his cock against me, entering slowly, and little by little, more rapidly.
I watch our reflection. This handsome fireman who comes and goes in my body to give himself some pleasure, whose head tilts back when it's too strong. I offer myself entirely to the living God. I want him to bless me from within. I pass my hand under my stomach to touch myself at the same time. He sees me doing it and lets out a "fuck!" which announces a near end. My fingers accelerate, following his rhythm. And suddenly he starts to moan, his thighs shake. My body sucks him dry and I feel like I'm receiving an award.
He slows down, until he comes to a complete stop. He takes off his mask to breathe better.
— Don’t move !
Still on his cloud, he complies with my request. I touch myself more energetically. Watching him in the mirror completely lost, feeling his cock in my body, his cum inside of me…Everything ... I'm leaving… My body eats him frantically. My brain is teeming. A state of utter wholeness sweeps over me as I moan my happiness on that old plywood table.
My body then relaxes and he waits, like a gentleman, for me to catch my breath to pull out.
Both satisfied, we return to the party as if nothing has ever happened.
I learn from Carrie the next day that Jerem had gotten engaged a month earlier, and that I had been, in a way, part of his bachelor party. I was extremely flattered.
© All rights reserved — MP Charlie - 5/4/2021
She took his hand. She wanted to make sure that the heat was diffusing into the skin tissue. In order not to affect the circuits, she had set the temperature to 27.3˚C. When this was the case, the skin not only felt warm, but it was also softer.
— Do you feel something? she asked him.
He decrypted the joy on Amaurée's face.
— What should I feel?
— Affirmative. My temperature is now at the standard parameters for proper operation.
XR-S8 was grateful to the one who had saved him. During the last raid, he had entered her home pretending to be a soldier of the Guard. As he had found all kinds of ploys and excuses not to eat or drink, she soon suspected he was not human.
By hiding XR-S8 in her basement, Amaurée was taking the risk of being reported by her neighbors because "anyone aware of cyborgs, rebels or deserter must report it to the State under penalty of correction” and for a year, the word correction had a macabre resonance. She had never understood why a whole section of civilization had to be decimated because of a handful of defective cyborgs. There was nothing violent about this one. As she stared him in the eyes he smiled, which made her smile too. He had noticed that a moderate smile calmed Amaurée by 25 percent. On the other hand, a smile a little too wide produced a peak of anxiety or sometimes a burst of laughter. So as soon as she looked at him, he smiled slightly, without showing his teeth.
— They never gave you a name?
— My name is XR-S8.
— I know that, it's tattooed on the back of your neck.
She thought about the choice that had been made for the color of his eyes, the delicate skin texture that had been chosen to coat his metallic male skeleton. It was assembled with special care. Some details had even been added to him, such as a mole above the eyebrow and a small birthmark on the neck. Not so surprising that she thought she was talking to a human at first.
— Do you want me to give you one? she says.
— A human name? If that makes things less formal, that would be great.
— Ulysses? Do you like it?
The cyborg nodded.
— Do you like music, Ulysses?
— Liking is not part of my configuration, but even if I do not understand its use, I have sometimes heard it and it wasn’t unpleasant.
— You do not understand the use of music? Get up.
He got up immediately. She asked the server to play Orville Peck's "Dead of Night", a perfect ballad to demonstrate the use of music. Then she moved closer to the cyborg and placed his hands on her hips.
— Relax your arms, she said, and follow what I’m doing.
He looked at her a little surprised by the request. He complied, however.
— It's good, it's really good, she said.
He couldn't decode the expression on Amaurée's face. Usually, humans chat or listen when they look each other straight in the eye like this. She rested her head on his shoulder, she suddenly wanted to. Being cradled, feeling another's warmth under her cheek was so nice. She hadn't danced like that for months, since the men had been mobilized in the Green Zone.
— You can run your hand through my hair… If you want, she said in a small voice.
— If I want?
— Yes, only if you want.
Ulysses would have done anything to thank her. He was happy to be able to execute this command, so strange and so easy at the same time. His fingers then made their way through Amaurée's hair, who couldn't help but sigh.
— What is that noise you made? he said.
— Don't worry, it's just feels very nice.
He just wanted to know if that noise was the cause of the sudden rise in temperature in his own system.
— Do you understand now, the use of music? she said.
She looked up to better appreciate his answer.
— Possibly, he said. It is meant to raise the temperature. Correct?
She stifled a laugh.
— Yes, a little… Hm… How can you explain a feeling you can’t feel…
— I shouldn't feel a rise in temperature?
Was this part of a real sensation? No cyborg, to her knowledge, could feel spontaneous internal fluctuations because no engineer had managed to create a code for it. Unless it was a programming error?
— Are you telling me your internal temperature changed while we were dancing?
— Affirmative. 0.8 degree.
— But why ? How?
— I do not know. Isn't that the use of music then?
She remained motionless, speechless. He smiled at her, not knowing how to get that expression of surprise off Amaurée's face. She asked the server to put the song back from the beginning. She wanted to get to the bottom of it.
— Dance with me again, she said.
She rested her hands around his hips and they started dancing again. If he was blushing, if he was breathing faster, if the expression on his face changed, she wanted to see it, so this time around she didn't take her eyes off him.
Ulysses received a message from his system “Internal emotion detected. Do you want to reboot to cancel internal emotion?”
He didn't want to reboot. He was curious about what else music had to offer. His temperature was rising slowly and it was not unpleasant. The heat was spreading through his abdominal region and he himself was surprised to find the change interesting. His system sent him another message, telling him that the human's heart rate in his field of vision had increased by 30 percent and their pupils were abnormally dilated. It wasn't an alert, just information. Wanting to know if the temperature was changing for Amaurée too, he went into thermal vision and saw that her ears, her cheeks, her shoulders were bright red.
— I can see your temperature is rising too, he said.
— Oh really?
She knew long before he told her she was getting a little turned on. His benevolence and his innocence attracted her. Was it possible that a human found a cyborg to her liking to the point of…
She wanted to kiss him. But was it reasonable to take advantage of the situation? Would he understand that a kiss is not a threat?
— You can kiss me, if you want, she said.
He started an internal search to find out what she meant by that. A brief video played and he got another message warning him that the appendix between his legs was about to straighten out for mating. Since he didn't understand what that meant he then launched another search and the video he saw caused a feeling he couldn't explain. He wanted to do with Amaurée the same thing he was seeing in the video, he felt the need to. Usually, he only felt needs when his survival was directly in question, but as he was not in danger with her…
While she waited for him to make up his mind to kiss her, Amaurée felt something hard against her stomach. She told herself it was not possible, that she was losing her mind. And then, glancing between the legs of the cyborg she had the confirmation.
— What in the…
— If you want to know what's going on, I'm not sure. But apparently, I'm ready for mating.
— This is impossible!
She took a little distance. She didn't want to jump on him even though she was suddenly craving it.
— I must really be horny, she blurted out.
— What's your order? What should I do now?
— What are you feeling? What do you want to do?
— Is this desire?
— That (she pointed to his crotch) means you want to… to put your penis in me. Is this what you want?
— Your heart is beating abnormally fast.
— Yes, it's because I would love for you to say yes. Have you never done that?
— I'm happy to take the controls, but you'll have to say stop if it's not pleasant, okay?
He nodded. While looking him in the eyes, Amaurée plunged her hand into Ulysses’ pants. She ignored the rather simple finish, because someone had bothered to give him a generous shape. Her insides were really starting to scream her envy. She wanted to go straight to serious matters.
— Undo the buttons on my shirt, she said.
Ulysses used delicacy, wanting to avoid hurting his host. He opened the first button, Amaurée had to catch her breath as her excitement was rising. Ulysses’ system sent him all kinds of messages that he decided to cut so as not to be disturbed. A second button popped, then a third. Amaurée was already on fire. Getting undressed by a robot, what a strange idea, what a pervert she was! She pulled her blouse to the side, pulled her breast out of her bra, took his hand and put it on it.
— Caress me…
The sensation of the skin against hers, even artificial, made her head tilt back. Her underwear was already soaked. She wanted that fake cock inside her. Ulysses restarted his system to understand what was happening. His appendix was now fully erect and he felt the incomprehensible urge to penetrate Amaurée. His system didn't tell him what to do next. He was alone now facing his new sensations.
— Take off your pants, she said, sit there.
The cyborg undressed and went to sit on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She took off her blouse, her bra, and then she swayed while removing the rest to finally find herself naked in front of him. He was staring at her, his erection pointing the sky. At the same time he was playing a mating video in his right eye while he was decoding Amaurée's body, he was impatient to know about this activity which he had not been made aware of.
She came over him…
— Ready? she said.
She impaled herself on his cock, looking him straight in the eyes. Feeling his flesh in hers made her moan. Ulysses perceived the heat of her body, but he also discovered with amazement that he could feel the pleasure of Amaurée at the same time. Seeing the cyborg's stunned expression excited her even more. She grabbed Ulysses’ hands to place them on her butt and she began to roll her hips on him, using the movements of the chair to eat him better.
— What are you feeling? she said.
— I think I'm picking up your emotions. There, for example, I just received a signal.
Really? Had they put a sensor in his device? Did he also feel her thirst, the pleasure she felt waving on a cyborg? She stirred harder to squeeze in the right place at a steady pace.
— Do you feel my pleasure rising?
— Affirmative. I get all the data from your muscles, your temperature, your brain.
— Really? And do you like what you feel?
— Can you know what I'm thinking here?
She almost came, just knowing he was hearing her dirty thoughts.
— Yes, he continued, answering a question she was about to ask, I do not mind trying.
He thrust his middle finger deep into Amaurée's butt. He felt the sensation she felt when push something into her anus, the pressure in her flesh, her muscles, the heat, the urge and the loss of control that increased as she busied herself on him. She pulled the cyborg against her to have his head between her breasts. He let it go, knowing her impulses even before she put them into practice, feeling the pleasure it gave to Amaurée, and by extension, the pleasure he received from them.
— Yes, he replied, I really like what you do to me. It's very nice ... I don't know what orgasm means. Oh, I see now. Yes, I want to feel your orgasm.
She couldn't hold it any longer. She kept telling herself she was having sex with a cyborg, that he had a finger in her ass and that he could feel her pleasure and the heat rose in her abdomen, blood rushed to her temples, her muscles bit frantically the appendage of metal and flesh. She started screaming "Oh yes fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Ulyyyysse!”. The system sent the cyborg a multitude of messages at the same time that meant absolutely nothing but he was sensing the signals from each of Amaurea's cells. The pleasure was so intense, so condensed, so confusing that he was getting restart alerts. Amaurée exhausted herself on him. He let her breathe, still feeling the pulsation of her muscles around him, receiving signals from the heart that was pounding way too fast, and then a feeling of absolute calm.
— Fuck, that was good, she blurted out.
— I think my system is overheating. It asks me to reboot. I ask you for a minute.
He died for a minute.
She stood back up and observed him. His eyes were open but he was clearly absent. She hoped he would request to repeat the experience. She could even teach him a few things… There were unknown pleasures to hide a cyborg in her basement after all.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 21/1/2021
Eglantine was walking with her parasol, alone as usual, in the forest of Rambouillet. She was a dreamer, a romantic who spent her afternoons in the sun, stretched out on the grass, finding shapes in the clouds. Her mother wanted to marry her to a cousin she knew nothing about. He lived far away, he was much older than her, and she didn't care much for him.
That day, she wanted to stop on the way. She had laid down on the side of the road and pulled her skirts up to her knees to take advantage of the sun’s rays. A coach was approaching. The sound of its wheels and horse hooves in the dry earth brought her out of her dreams. She straightened up quickly. When it rushed past her, she was surprised to see so many delicate ornaments. She had never seen one so luxurious, and yet she was from a good family.
The coach made a few meters then slowed down. Probably lost, she thought. A woman with a headdress as tall as a wedding cake emerged. Even though she was a little far away, Eglantine knew she was a silk dress. With her gloved hand, the woman motioned for her to approach. Eglantine hurried to meet her.
— What's your name, my dear? the woman said to her.
— Eglantine de Varennes, Madame.
The woman ogled her up and down with a slight smile.
— Please, she continues motioning to the door. The King would like to meet you.
— The King, you say?
— In person. Don't make him wait, my dear, hurry up.
This request was so fortuitous… Nothing made sense.
Stunned by the news, Eglantine climbed into the carriage. It was once inside that she realized that the curtains on the windows had misled her. The King was not waiting for her at the castle, he was sitting opposite her. She hastened to bow her head.
— Right, right, he said. Catch your breath, Mademoiselle.
Eglantine took her place next to the woman. In front of her, he was sitting erect, a cane between his legs on which he rested his hands. She thought she was in a dream and quietly pinched herself. He wore a short wig with gray hair. His serious face reminded him of his father's friend. His features weren't the most graceful, and he had a slight plumpness barely concealed under a buttoned jacket. He had, however, an indisputable charisma. To the King's right was a young man whom she did not recognize. The woman tapped on the ceiling to restart the coach.
— If I had known Majesty, that I would have the immense privilege of speaking to you today…
— What would you have done differently? he said.
— I would have ordered madeleines for example. People say you love them. And I would have worn my best dress.
He glanced imperiously at her cleavage.
— This one perfectly fine. Don't fret.
The coach picked up speed.
— Excuse my ignorance, Majesty, but I do not know your guests.
The man spoke.
— Baron de Chablis. Nice to meet you.
— And I am his wife, the Baroness of Chablis. We have just returned from a few days in the countryside which were very appreciable.
— Very appreciable, indeed, said the King.
— Forgive me, said Eglantine, but I would like to understand the honor I’ve been given to me to share your trip.
The King smiled then glanced at the Baron.
— I like your curiosity, my dear. Come and sit here, he said, pointing to his right.
The Baron swapped places with her.
She found herself so close to the King now that she dared not look at him. It was to observe her better that he made her sit down next to him. The Baron and the Baroness were also examining her, with a benevolent gaze.
— It is no stranger to you, my dear, that I still do not have a son.
— Well, he continues, it looks like this is your lucky day. How about you bear the King's Child?
Her heart sank. The proposal was most incongruous. He was his father's age, she had life ahead of her. She quickly looked for an idea to politely decline.
— Majesty, you do me a great honor, but I am already promised to a man. We are getting married shortly. I cannot decently ...
— How so? he said. My dear, think about it more at length. You would have a very special place at the King's court, for life.
The Baroness, seeing Eglantine's distress, reassured her.
— Your future husband will not mind. This is a royal request.
— Majesty, said Eglantine, why me? Are there not better families than mine for such an important task?
He smiled at her.
— My dear, you are not the first to whom I make this proposal. Some said yes but so far they have only given birth to girls. Others continue their little favors for the chance to give birth to my boy.
Was it crazy to refuse such an offer? Live life at the King's court… What would her parents say?
In front of her, the Baroness brought her face closer to the Baron’s, opened her mouth and kissed him obscenely, not taking her eyes off Eglantine. The latter glanced discreetly at the King to see if it bothered him but he seemed to be delighted with what was happening in front of him.
— See, he said, how these two love each other.
The Baron passed his hand through the neckline of the Baroness who let out a sigh.
— Have you never seen such a spectacle? he continued.
— No, Majesty, never.
— If you refuse my offer, at least you will have enjoyed your travel with us with your eyes.
Eglantine knew nothing about love. She heard her mother talk about it when she was drunk one night but she only was able to imagine what happens on the surface until now. She felt an exquisite warmth between her thighs. Despite the lack of manners, she wanted to see more.
The Baron undid the corset, let it fall to the ground, releasing his wife's breasts and came to lick them. Eglantine swallowed. She imagined what it would be like to feel a mouth on her chest, a tongue sliding over her skin. It was very hot all of a sudden.
The King was checking her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't see any displeasure on Eglantine's face, but a lot of curiosity, which enchanted him.
The Baron passed his hand under the skirts and plunged a finger into his wife. She gave a little cry and then gave Eglantine a mischievous look.
What was happening was incomprehensible but so pleasant. The fact that the King did not put an end to the situation made her to think her own surprise was due to her inexperience. She wanted to see the act until the end, to know what it was supposed to be like to ensure the King would be satisfied with her. Because yes, with the excitement, she had decided she would give herself to him.
The Baroness placed her hand on her husband's crotch. It was then that Eglantine noticed a bulge in his pants. The woman opened them up in a skilful movement and let out a sigh of pleasure. Eglantine could not take her eyes off the thing.
The King was delighted. Not only was she not afraid of it, she looked like she wanted to touch it.
The Baroness pulled up her skirts to the top. She was not wearing panties and Eglantine had a brief glimpse of her bush. She came to sit upside down on her husband's knees. In one movement, she impaled herself on him, sighing with happiness. She leaned forward a little and grabbed Eglantine's hands as if to involve her in the action. The Baron, beneath her, moaned into his mustache, giving her good thrusts with his cock. Eglantine felt a delicious pulsation, some sort of heartbeat in the hollow of her skirts. Watching the Baroness having so much pleasure made her want to join in.
— Isn't that divine? said the King. How are you feeling, my dear? Don't you want to try it yourself?
— I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t want to, Majesty.
The King had mischievous eyes.
The Baroness moaned even louder, lasciviously, which excited the young woman to the highest point. She wanted to feel the same, to know what it was like to feel a man in her body. The Baroness took Eglantine's hand and placed it on one of her breasts.
— There, she said. Like that.
Eglantine stroked the breast. Feeling the heat of a body other than hers under the pads of her fingers, seeing the pleasure that her curious hand gave on the face of the Baroness made her even hotter. As for the King, he could no longer hide his erection. Seeing the young woman so easily entering the game titillated him more than he could have hoped.
— Would you like to sit here, my dear? said the King, putting his hand on his lap.
Eglantine was so excited that the idea tempted her now.
— You mean, in the same way as Madame De Chablis? she said timidly.
— Precisely. If you fancied distracting yourself a little bit with a King…
She appreciated that he did not force her. She took off her panties.
— Majesty, dare I ask you to undo my corset?
The Baroness got up immediately and came to do it for her. She quickly undid the laces and knocked the corset to the ground. Eglantine got ready to sit on the King but the Baroness stopped her in her tracks.
— Get him out of his pants first, she said.
Eglantine approached the King.
— Can I?
A smile full of vice lit up the King's face.
— Please, do, he said between clenched teeth.
She did it very delicately not to hurt the King, and he was turned on even more by the time she took to open the present he was about to give her.
She grabbed his cock and pulled it straight out. She had never touched one. It never occurred to her that it could be so soft. His was a little smaller than the Baron's, but for a first time, she was almost relieved.
— Come, Mademoiselle, said the King, now impatient to plant himself in her body.
The Baroness helped her lift her skirts and, just before Eglantine impaled herself on the King, took hold of the latter's cock and led it herself into the young woman.
The pleasure he felt made him scream.
— Oh how narrow you are! Oh ! Velvet! I won't last long!
Eglantine found the sensation divine. The King was indeed not so spoiled, which helped welcoming him without difficulty.
— Rub yourself against him, said the Baroness,
Eglantine rubbed herself as best she could. She even found pleasure in doing so. The King clung to her chest, fiddling her as if he hadn't touched a young woman for a long time. Facing them, the Baroness and the Baron set to work again.
There were now four moaning people in that carriage. The men were lost in their pleasure, the women stared at each other, their faces contorted with desire.
— His cunt is so sweet! moaned the King.
— Your Majesty, you’re doing it divinely, said the Baroness.
The King was panting. The buttocks of the young woman came to bang against his belly, and the sight made him feverish.
The Baroness stretched out her arm and passed it under Eglantine's skirts where she found the King's cock, stiff with emotions, coming and going inside her. The young woman, knowing nothing about it, thought the Baroness was only trying to make sure the operations were running smoothly. She also enjoyed the touch of that hand there, so much so that she didn't ask her to remove it. The Baroness was actually maneuvering to get Eglantine to come.
Suddenly the King began to cry.
— Oh ! God Almighty ! Rah! Ah!
Thinking she was hurting him, the young girl did not dare to move. The Baroness redoubled her vigor to make the king believe he was pleasuring Eglantine well. She approached and focused on the young woman.
— Let yourself go! she said. Cum on the King.
She rubbed her button more rapidly. Eglantine couldn't help but stir on him again, not really knowing what “cum” meant. She thought she was fainting, dying, a new sensation ran through her whole body. She wanted to catch her breath but it was cut off, the time for a delicious moment when nothing more than this feeling between her thighs mattered. The King ejaculated in her, and she was there, offering her body to people she knew nothing about an hour ago. She began to utter little groans, masked by the cries of the Baroness who, witnessing Eglantine’s orgasm, could no longer hold it and came at the same time than her.
The coach smelled of debauchery. Inside, the four travellers were catching their breath.
With one hand on her buttocks, the King requested Eglantine to get up. His shiny cock was still oozing.
— I think my son was born here. My word ! You made me lose my mind!
— Sorry Majesty.
— What do you mean sorry? Don't talk nonsense, my dear. I would do it all over again if I could!
He ran a hand on the chest of Eglantine, as its new owner. She was thrilled she was able to satisfy the King.
The Baron, silent until now, spoke:
— Very good choice, Majesty. This young woman knows how to drive a man crazy with her eyes.
— Oh, rascal, you! said the King. Looking at her helped you finish your task, didn’t it!
— Well, well. The day has only just begun. If she's in the mood, maybe she'll satisfy you once again when we arrive.
The King glanced proudly at his new conquest.
Eglantine understood that the King lent his women to his friends and the idea, instead of shocking her, enchanted her.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 3/4/2021
I'm going to translate the short stories I post on this site, little by little, since some of you would like to read them in English.