Page 16 of Eroma


  “Now do me,” she said. “Quickly, hard.”

  Surprised, he put his groin where his face had been, his member ready. He took hold of her breasts and rammed in, thrusting repeatedly. The push of his effort caused her to step forward, and to continue until the water was shallow enough so that she could lie down while keeping her head clear. He lay above her, still thrusting. His hot groin was against her cool bottom, his legs against hers, while her breasts pressed into his pinned hands. He achieved his climax, limited ejaculation and all, and that triggered hers. They rocked together in the passion.

  “I think that was a record recovery for both of us,” he said as they ebbed.

  “Stay in me,” she said. “I love the feel of you against me like this.”

  “You were turned on by the douche!”

  “I was,” she confessed. “It was so different, and having your face there, and all that water pushing in, was like a big ejaculation. Not as much as the satyrs delivered, but good enough. Maybe it was the novelty, but I think also that I knew it was getting the satyr’s glop cleared out. That was a big relief.”

  “Novelty, arousal and emotion,” he said. “It was certainly an experience.”

  “And of course I love you.”

  He got his face down beside hers. She turned to meet him, and they kissed, awkwardly, his front still plastered to her backside in the water, his member still embedded. “I guess we gave the game viewers a show to remember,” he gasped.

  “I wasn’t even thinking of that. But they’re welcome.”

  After a while they separated and got out of the water. “There are two more sections to go,” he said. “There may not be water for a douche next time.”

  She also doubted that air without the added wash of water would be sufficient. “We do have some control. We can try to arrange to do it near water. It does work; I don’t feel the lassitude.”

  “And my penis suffered no numbness. At least we have a strategy, of sorts. I hope it’s enough.”

  Fotina had another thought. “We have no certainty of being near water, as you said, the next time we have to have sex with the natives. But there may be an alternative.”

  “Moss and a stick?”

  “No. Water. We can carry it with us.”

  “We have no container.”

  “Yes we do. We have discovered that we can eat, in this setting. We can surely also drink.”

  “Sure. But that won’t—” He broke off, staring at her. “You can’t mean—”

  “Urine,” she said. “What we drink should pass on through our systems, fairly rapidly, probably remaining sterile.”

  “But I would have to—to piss in you!”

  “Yes. With force. A powered douche. It would rapidly wash out the ejaculate, if you had enough urine to do the job. You can make certain of that.”

  “Fotina, you amaze me!”

  “If You’re game for it, I am. It’s certainly a better prospect than leaving the ejaculate in to put me to sleep and suffer whatever the natives have in mind for me. Such as being their permanent sex slave and baby maker.”

  He considered a moment more, then put his face down to the water and started drinking. He drank deeply, until his stomach bulged with the quantity he had taken in.

  She patted his belly appreciatively. “Now you know approximately how I felt, with all that ejaculate inflating me.”

  “I can’t spew it out again, though.”

  She smiled. “Not yet.”

  They walked on, skirting the water but no longer fearing it. Water monsters did not seem to be the threat here.

  “It occurs to me that we have been asking the wrong questions,” Pedro said. “We need to get a more comprehensive answer, so that we can zero in on what we need.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Fotina agreed. “I’ll do my part.” She patted her own bottom.

  They discussed it as they walked, and came up with what they trusted were better questions.

  They came to the third territory. This was cleared land that seemed to have some development: walks and small buildings. Civilization, such as this world offered? Neither of them trusted that.

  Two more figures appeared, another satyr and nymph.

  They went into the routine. “Hello,” Pedro said.

  “Hello,” the nymph said. It was always the one who wanted to breed with a person who answered that person. “I am Page. He is Book. Here is a gift.” She presented him with another fruit.

  Pedro took it and made the ritual bite, passing it along to Fotina. She took her own bite. It was as juicy and sweet as the first, with a pleasant aftertaste. Yes, this would definitely do for the voyage.

  “I am Pedro, and this is Fotina,” Pedro said, again following the ritual. “We are looking for our lost companions, who passed this way before us.”

  “Indeed,” Book agreed. “We encountered them.”

  “And you will exchange information for breeding?”

  “We will. But first, let us get to know each other.” Book showed the way to a wood table with several stools. They took their places there.

  “You are more social than the others,” Fotina said.

  “We are the educated class. The others are more primitive. We are trying to retain what civilization we can, in a difficult situation.”

  “Our situation is difficult too,” Pedro said. “We need to obtain a supply of food for our return voyage, but we seem to have lost our companions.”

  “The plums should suffice,” Book said. “They are nutritious and mildly aphrodisiac. Your voyage should be memorable.”

  Aphrodisiac! Now Fotina understood why she and Pedro had been so eager to have sex again, so soon after doing the native pair. They had eaten the fruit. Just as they had right then! They would have to watch that, hereafter. She was already feeling the urge to have more sex.

  “We can handle it,” Pedro said. “But we do have questions.”

  “Then perhaps it is time. We will, of course, answer, in exchange for breeding. The fruit affects us too, notably in the genital region.”

  “Big penises!” Pedro said. “Capacious vaginas.”

  “Exactly. And voluminous emissions. You will adapt soon enough.”

  Pedro looked down at his member, and Fotina looked too. It was not only erect, it seemed larger than it had been. Plus, her vaginal capacity—the fruit had made it greater for the second breeding. She could accommodate the giant phallus more readily. It made sense. She felt the turn-on of the fruit, and knew that Pedro was getting antsy for sex. She hated making him wait, but they desperately needed more information if they were to succeed where the others had failed. Fortunately, sex and information were merged at the moment. “Do it,” she murmured to him.

  “My question,” Pedro said carefully, “is a clarification of the socio-economic situation here.”

  Fotina nodded to herself. That phrasing prevented the natives from simply saying, “They are with the trees.”

  Page stood and assumed the posture beside the table. Pedro walked around it and addressed her from behind. He caught her breasts, oriented his member, and thrust into her willing cleft. He penis was definitely longer and thicker, and his thrusting harder, and his ejaculation seemed to take longer, as though there was more liquid pumping through. His groin smacked repeatedly against her bottom as he labored to get every bit of his juice into her. Page smiled appreciatively; this was her kind of sex.

  Fotina, watching, was fiercely aroused. She couldn’t wait to get Book’s giant member into her. Regardless of the danger his ejaculate represented. But she suppressed any visible reaction, knowing that patience was best, despite the urgency the fruit incited.

  When the last of the ejaculate was out and in, Pedro drew back. Even half flaccid, his member was more impressive. He sat down, letting it hang. There was some remnant semen drooling. Page’s vagina closed up tightly, not allowing any dribble to escape. She did not run away; instead she too sat back at the table. That was a change. “Book
will answer,” she said. That was another change.

  “I will,” Book agreed. “You have purchased an answer; it does not have to be from the object of your contribution. Page remains because she knows that the fruit you ate will soon cause you to become potent again, and she wishes to be available for a second offering.”

  And Pedro’s penis was not diminishing further, Fotina noted. It remained at half mast, as though standing its ground while organizing its recovery. “Good enough,” Pedro agreed. It was as if his member smelled the willing cleft.

  “You have asked the right question,” Book said. “I will clarify our situation to the extent I am able, though I admit to being eager to get to my own session with Fotina, who is an especially fetching creature. This will require a dialogue.”

  “We’re glad to have it,” Pedro said. Fotina was staying mostly silent, trying to pick up on whatever subtle hints there might be.

  “Planet Horizon was one of the most promising colony worlds extant,” Book said. “Gravity, atmosphere, temperature, and life forms were all highly compatible. But soon after the colony ship departed, mischief manifested. People vanished without trace. The colonists organized a posse to track them down. What they discovered so appalled them that they gave up any hope of maintaining any permanent presence here. They were evacuated, and the great majority of them left Horizon forever.”

  “Just what was the horror?” Pedro asked.

  “That I am not free to tell you. As it happened, some colonists concluded that they could handle it, so they remained here. They established several territories, and traded to make survival feasible. This is the Education Territory; we specialize in maintaining the Earthly language and culture as we know it, teaching the children. You just passed through the Water Territory, which provides water to the others. You also saw the Construction Territory.”

  “It was a wilderness!” Pedro protested.

  “It has the resources required for construction,” Book said. “Vines, sand, rock, small wood, and other such things we need.”

  “Why can’t you just go and take them?”

  “The wolves, as we call them. They will attack any intruders not protected by the proprietors. They alone know how to stop the wolves.”

  “We saw no wolves.”

  “Because Brush and Berry were there to keep them away. Just as Lake and Land were there to prevent the water monsters from attacking you. Similarly, we trade for the fruits, which are our main sustenance; only the natives of that territory can safely obtain them.”

  “From dangerous trees?” Pedro asked, trying to mask his amusement.

  Fotina did not share his feelings. She was aware how different things could be in each setting. Trees could indeed be dangerous.

  “You really do not want to enter that territory,” Book said. “The others did, and so were doomed. The trees need their sustenance too, and will take it.”

  Sustenance. That was an interesting word. Was it other than soil and water?

  Pedro nodded. “If we do not come to some sort of deal with you, we will have to pass through those territories without any such protection, and will be lost.”

  “Of course you will make a deal,” Book said. “Then all will be amicable.”

  Fotina understood all too well. There were indeed dangers here, and their companions had refused to deal, and gotten trapped, unable to return to the ship, if they even survived. The natives had said they were alive, but that was not necessarily to be trusted.

  “We have to get food and return to our ship,” Pedro said.

  “We can’t let you do that,” Book said. “We need your genes, to abate our severe inbreeding. We need you to breed with all of us, make many children, and help us to raise and train them. If you do so voluntarily, you can have a good life here, protected, well fed with plenty of fruit, and of course, with all the sex you crave.” He glanced at the nymph. “Page is eager to show you how obliging she can be.”

  Page got up and circled to join Pedro. She sat on his lap and kissed him. She took his hand and pressed it against one of her breasts. Fotina knew she was turning him on most effectively. Apparently, the nymphs did know about lovemaking, not just breeding. They just did not bother to practice it unless necessary, to delude an insufficiently horny visitor.

  “But isn’t she your girl?” Pedro asked.

  “Not in the sexual sense,” Book answered. “She and I are more like siblings. We must cross the lines, as it were, to breed, and there is always a price. This is one reason your presence is a pleasure for us.”

  “And what is our alternative, if we do not make your deal?”

  “You will have to oppose the trees. That is not recommended.”

  The trees, again. What was it about them?

  “I think Fotina and I need to move on,” Pedro said. “We are not going to desert our companions.” Fotina saw what an effort it was for him. Page was a most inviting offering. But he was right: they could not afford to remain here long, while the fate of their companions remained unknown.

  “She will even answer another question,” Book said.

  “Would she tell us exactly what is happening with our companions?”

  “Oh!” Page exclaimed as if slapped. She jumped off his lap and ran away, leaving him with a stiff erection.

  So much for that. They definitely had to move on. This was a honey trap, but nevertheless a trap. Fotina glanced at Pedro. Had he had enough time with his water?

  He met her gaze and nodded slightly. She saw that his belly was fat; he had a full bladder. That was what she had been waiting for.

  Fotina stood up and assumed the position. “We are going on. Acknowledging that, what is your advice?”

  Book came around. He oriented his giant phallus, set the tip at her opening, and slowly pressed it in. She felt it sliding into her vagina, making the width of it expand. It continued, forging on with increasing authority, penetrating seemingly impossibly deep. But she had more room than in the past, and was accommodating it. When it reached the limit, she sucked in her breath and made more room.

  She felt his groin come up against her bottom. He was all the way in, and she did not feel stretched out of shape. Filled, yes. Tight, yes. Unpleasant, no. She truly related to having this giant hot member probing her hungry core.

  Then he thrust and spurted. The fluid surged out of him and into her, pressuring her flesh relentlessly outward. Now she felt stretched, fulfilled rather than distended, and saw how thick her belly was swelling. She had made progress, but she obviously was not nearly as deep and accommodating as a nymph.

  On and on it came, until she almost thought she would burst. Then, at last, the savage flow eased, and he slowly withdrew. She kept her vagina as tight against the member as she could, so that it would not be evident that she had no intention of keeping the mass of ejaculate. She felt her hole draw closed as the tip of his spent member slipped out. She had muscles of closure there that she did not have in life. It was a supreme effort she had not made during the prior two satyr services. However, she felt it important to conceal her true purpose.

  Book stepped back. “Do not trust the natives,” he said, and walked away.

  “That’s the same thing the map said,” Pedro said, sounding cheated.

  “Then it must be a fair warning,” she gasped. The substance in her abdomen was pushing against her lungs, restricting her breathing. Her belly was as swollen as Pedro’s was. They had a similar need to deflate. “Is he out of sight yet?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “Ah, now he is.”

  “Good.” She let her sphincter go, and the glop wedged out and slopped on the ground in a jellylike mass. She tensed her belly, bearing down to expel more of it. But it was not enough; she felt the numbness beginning. She needed the fire hose. “Pedro.”

  He approached. “I’m so stiff I can’t pee,” he said. “Page really worked me up, and you—I hate to admit it, but the thought of doing this gives me the worst hard-on ever.”

>   “Put it in anyway,” she advised, resuming the mating position. “When it starts getting numb, the urine should flow.”

  He did, pressing his stiff member in. He held it there, fully embedded but not ejaculating. “It is numbing,” he said. “And—here it comes.”

  The flow of urine started, at first modest, then gaining force. It shot out of him almost like the satyr’s ejaculation, filling her vagina. She closed it about the base, not letting the urine escape, much as she had with the ejaculate. She wanted maximum pressure.

  “Weird,” he said. “I can feel the jelly all around me, instead of flesh. I’m a spike in a pressured chamber.”

  The pressure became too much; she couldn’t hold it in longer. She let go, and the fluid burst out of her, around his penis and across the front of his legs, and splashed back onto the backs of hers.

  Pedro’s flow continued. It blasted out her channel, exactly as she wanted it to. It was effectively washing away any remaining ejaculate. It seemed more efficient than the mouth-blown water had been. For one thing, there was more of it.

  “Thank you!” she gasped.

  He laughed. “Welcome.”

  They held the position, letting the last of it flow into and out of her, dribbling down their legs. This, too, was a kind of turn-on in its odd way, resembling sex without being sex. Maybe the aphrodisiac fruit was putting a sexual tinge on anything that happened in that vicinity of their bodies.

  At last they both were empty, their bellies flat again. He pulled out, she stood and turned, and they embraced and kissed passionately. “Let’s not have sex that way again,” she said.

  He squeezed her bottom. “Regular sex from now on.”

  “I know the nymph left you frustrated. Do you want to do it now?”

  “Yes. But I can’t. That numbness, remember?”

  “I’m sorry about that. But it was the only way I could think of.”

  “As long as it did the job. I’ll recover soon enough. Then I’m going to be really urgent.”