WIP Wednesday - First Mataras: Irene

 

Taking responsibility

So many hands on her. Too many. Three men and one woman.

A bolt of ecstasy shot between her legs, as if transmitted by the fingers massaging her there. She tore loose from Sherv’s kiss to cry out as surges of rapture rolled through her. The vague knowledge of faces hanging over her, watching her succumb to pleasure, did nothing to quiet the violent pulses shaking her from head to toe.

There was no end to it. Both breasts were kneaded, and the delicious friction of her clit continued, drawing another spasm of incredible pleasure. Her cries rang out with each sweet paroxysm.

It lasted longer than any joy she’d elicited from her own attempts. It was also over too quickly. A bit of Irene’s soul wept as the exquisite throbs tapered off.

She returned to her senses. The unlikely scent of sugary cinnamon hung heavy in the air, but she dismissed it almost at once. She stared at the awed expressions of Sherv, Rusp, and Jemi hovering over her.

“Um.” Sherv blinked. “More than kiss. We get excited for Irene and...”

He made an apologetic face, but he and Jemi continued to cup her breasts. Rusp’s fingers had stilled, but they remained on her tingling clit.

She was aware of a hardness poking her buttock. Sherv was erect. Very erect, from the feel of it. He was excited, all right, and she’d caused it.

“I…I, uh…”

Sherv interrupted her stuttering by lifting her off his avid lap. Pulling her loose from the others, he sat her on her chair again and fussed with straightening her skirt. After a second, Jemi put her rumpled blouse to rights. Rusp, his eyes lowered, returned to his seat. Irene noted he sucked on his fingers as he did so. She also saw the crotch of his pants were tented. They were tight enough that she realized what she saw couldn’t be accounted for by a single penis.

He had two?

The question was lost in the confounded morass of her jabbering thoughts. Jemi and Sherv, having made her appear proper once more, retreated to their seats. They watched her, appearing at once scared and perplexed.

Sherv broke the silence. “You are all right, Irene?”

“Uh. Well. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Why you sorry? We do more than kiss. You ask only for kiss.” He shifted and pulled at his trousers, perhaps to relieve their tightness against what was definitely two large and eager appendages.

“Yeah, but now you’re…uncomfortable. If I hadn’t dared you to kiss me, you wouldn’t be.” She found it difficult to avoid looking at their crotches. The tight pants weren’t leaving much to the imagination.

Sherv looked at his obvious excitement. “Oh. Well, you beautiful. Especially when you climax. Can’t help liking it.”

Heat filled her face. She’d done exactly what the Church accused women of. She’d tempted these men into lust.

“It is no problem,” Sherv said, his attention on her again. “It is just good feeling. What is the saying? No big deal.”

“But I…I made you…”

“Feel good. That is all you made, and it is not your problem. Now we apology. You only want kiss, not climax.”

“I am sorry, Irene.” Jemi smiled hopefully. “You not get mad please?”

“I am sorry too,” Rusp added. “Earther women different, but I treat you like other women who show need and expect pleasure. Forgive me?”

Irene gaped. They were taking responsibility for this? They thought they were in the wrong?

Releasing Summer 2023

WIP Wednesday - First Mataras: Irene

 

A new experience

Sherv didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached and cupped her jaw in his calloused palm as he leaned forward. Obeying his gentle tug, Irene tilted toward him, watching as his purple eyes filled her vision. Before their lips touched, she closed her eyes against the nearness that became overwhelming.

His lips brushed hers. Her insides felt as if they melted at the tender contact. After the solidity of Jemi’s body, she’d somehow expected Sherv’s lips to be hard. They were soft as they moved over hers, however. Soft and warm and lovely. The melting within grew, liquifying her within.

Having only known the quick pecks on her cheeks of her parents, Fausto, and Mrs. Hoffman, Irene was surprised at how long the kiss lasted. This was no perfunctory buss, but a slow, careful exploration, Sherv’s lips investigating hers with languorous care. As the seconds passed, she lost herself in the intimate contact.

Then, raspy wetness. He licked her lips, then sucked the lower. A jolt of excitement flashed through her, and she gasped in surprise.

When her lips parted, his tongue slid into her mouth. At the same instant, he lifted her from her seat and settled her on his lap. It happened so fast, Irene had no opportunity to react. All at once, she was in Sherv’s arms, pressed against him, his tongue stroking hers.

Confusion kept her from struggling. An avalanche of sensations barreled through her, holding her helpless as the Dramok tasted and explored her in a manner she’d never imagined. She was aware her tongue parried his, some involuntary instinct guiding it to investigate its rougher twin, to learn his masculine flavor. Her fingers, shed of the gloves, roamed of their own accord, discovering the swells of muscle beneath his soft shirt.

Shock gave way to a roar of clamoring within. An eager, ticklish sensation bloomed in her lower belly. In her sex, which was abruptly wet. The vague sensations that had prodded her to touch herself in her teens and led her along the path to thrilling discovery were nothing compared to this devouring, demanding ache.

She had no defense against such yearning. She obeyed its demand she yield to the man waking her as she’d never been awakened before. She softened in Sherv’s grip, surrendering to his increasingly intent kiss.

Releasing Summer 2023

 

WIP Wednesday - First Mataras: Irene

 

 

A little music, a little mood...a first kiss?

“Give me.” Sherv set aside the uferliss to take the guitar Irene was again navigating with less than stellar results. “Try this.” He played a variation of the notes she’d thought would work with the third song they’d been concocting.

“Much better. Show me again?”

“I play. Uferliss not working on this tune, I think. You sing.”

“Okay, but I still don’t know why you want this song in English rather than Kalquorian.”

“Your language works with sound better. And it easier for you to sing your words.” He started to play the intro, and Jemi’s trasbu joined in. Another measure, and Rusp swept in with a gentle drum roll.

Irene had to admit that particular song did work best without the uferliss. “What about adding piano or keyboards, though?”

“We’re going to need a bigger band,” Jemi laughed.

“Or just use backing tracks.”

“Lemanthev never use backing tracks,” Rusp argued

 “This not lemanthev. This music is ours. We do backing tracks if want,” Sherv told him. “I like keyboards. And in English.”

“Who are you getting to sing with you when you leave, though?” Irene demanded. She stuck her lower lip out in a ridiculous pout. “Are you going to be chasing other Earther women around to sing for you?”

“We steal you. You sing for us, forget opera.” Sherv grinned.

“And keep me in chains between shows?”

“You do cashool in-u-en-do again?” Rusp’s brows wiggled at her. He chuckled when she blushed.

“Is that a thing for Kalquorians? Keeping their women in chains for perverse activities?” She blushed harder at her own audacity.

Jemi chattered in his own language.

Sherv snickered. “Perversted means good sex.”

Irene gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Shocked laughter chuffed behind her palms, then she spluttered, “I didn’t say anything of the sort! And the word is perverted, you Kalquorian heathen. Which means weird or immoral.”

“Like he say, mean good sex.” Rusp’s strong features lit with mischievous merriment. “More immoral, more better.”

“You three have no shame!” Irene tried her best to sound disapproving, but the giggles pouring from her ruined the affect. Talking of the taboo subject was just as thrilling as sneaking out to listen to bands play.

“Sex no shame. Sex like good music. I show if you let me play you.” Rusp wiggled his fingers over his drum’s skin, making it hum like far-off thunder, his tongue peeking out between his grinning lips.

Sherv was laughing so hard, he was in danger of falling out of his seat. “Irene so red.”

“Don’t laugh at me.” She swatted his arm. “It isn’t my fault my government is crazy.”

“You so embarrassed about what’s normal. You think it’s perversted.” His humor quieted, and a hint of sadness drifted over his expression. “You even never kiss?”

“No.” A spark of anger greeted his pity. “Is it such a big deal?”

“Big deal to me. I be mad if not allowed to kiss.”

“Why don’t you teach me then?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she’d said them.

Jemi and Rusp stilled. Sherv regarded her, his emotions impossible to gauge. “You want learn to kiss? Earth say bad.”

Irene debated walking the challenge back. She was insane to dare such closeness. What if Sherv turned lust-crazed? Except he’d done nothing to suggest he was the unrestrained sex fiend Earth insisted all Kalquorian men were. Except for a few teasing comments, there’d been no hint of depravity.

We die anyway, why should we fear taking chances?

“Earth says everything is bad. I’m already doomed if I’m caught with you. How can a kiss make it any worse?” She lifted her chin, challenging him. Challenging Earth’s overbearing dictates. Challenging her own fears.

Releasing Summer 2023