by Dan Ackerman
“You’ll leave your seed and go. That’s the way of men,” Tola reminded gently.
“I’d sort of hoped for a different kind of dialogue. Isn’t there someone we can talk to? We got a distress call from here,” Arden said.
“It must have been from the last tribe who settled here,” Tola said.
“And where are they?”
Kineth shrugged. “All we found was bones.”
“Fucking…” Arden breathed. “And you stayed here.”
“Four old men picked clean by carrion birds and skin beetles. They traveled alone or got left behind,” Tola said. “Come. Speak with Mari.”
The women walked away.
Arden glanced at the crowd behind them, then followed the other two.
Oggie followed too. “Shug,” he murmured.
“It seems like this Mari is important. We should talk to her.”
“I’m sort of worried about skin beetles.”
“Skin beetles eat the dead. Don’t die and you don’t have to worry about them,” Kineth said.
“This is a lovely vacation,” Oggie grumbled.
“Shh,” Arden scolded.
Kineth stepped into a tent and announced, “Two men, Mama.”
Arden stepped inside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.
“Sit,” said a woman with cropped blonde hair.
Arden sat where she gestured.
Oggie sat next to Arden.
Arden glanced back, but Kineth and Tola had left the tent without a farewell.
Mari asked, “Water?”
“Uh. Please.”
“Yes, thanks,” Oggie said.
Mari handed them cups of tepid water.
Arden slurped it down despite the temperature and stale taste. “We’re from a space station.”
“Travelers,” Mari said. “That’s good, the further the better.”
“Listen, we didn’t come here to—”
Mari held up her hand. “You’re from far away. You don’t know our customs. Listen first.”
Arden nodded, shocked by how firmly she spoke with him. He didn’t take offense, but he’d never been spoken to like that by anyone but Mother.
“When tribes meet in peace, we do no other business until the most important business has taken place. We do this first so that things don’t go sour between tribes and prevent a new generation.”
“It’s just that…”
Mari quieted him with a look.
“Good matches spend the night together in a tent. Other business is conducted in the morning.”
“I’m…That’s. With strangers?” Arden asked nervously. He’d never hooked up with a worker and he more or less knew all the peers by sight if not by name, so he’d never had the chance to have sex with a stranger. Considering how much he hated new things, this sounded like a nightmare.
Mari gave him a gentle smile. “We burn jessa. It helps.”
“And, uh.” Arden glanced at Oggie, then looked back at Mara. “I don’t…I really don’t even know if I can have kids.”
“You spend the night in the tent. Whatever happens…that’s between those in the tent. No one will force anything. Other business is conducted in the morning,” Mari told them. “I’m sure you have many interesting tales to tell, men from space. But first, we do what we can for the next generation.”
Arden looked at Oggie.
“But we don’t have to, like, get married or anything?” Oggie asked.
“No. Sometimes a deeper connection is found, and a man chooses to stay, but that hasn’t happened in many years. Some may wish you to stay, though.” She looked at Oggie appreciatively.
He gave her a nervous smile. “Lovely.”
“You may leave, of course,” Mari added quickly. “But no other business will be conducted otherwise.”
Arden doubted he’d find any connection in the tribe’s tent, no matter what they burned, but he had other things he wanted to talk about. He’d sit in a tent full of women for a night, no hardship there. It’d be like visiting one of Cathie’s ladies’ clubs. “Sure.”
“Oh, been a while since I’ve been to an orgy,” Oggie noted. “Where are all the men, by the way? You don’t…like. Eat them after sex or anything?”
Mari looked concerned. “Famine, sickness, and violence claimed our men, slowly but surely over the years. We have some boys that will be men soon. That will be good. We do not kill our own. Is that common in your tribe?”
“No, not common, not really,” Arden assured.
“We can talk more about our histories in the morning. Tell me about yourselves. Your family’s bloodlines. I’ll know better then who to match you with.”
Arden provided the information he had somewhat uncomfortably. He didn’t know his father’s name, let alone his genetic information. He told her what he could about Mother’s family.
Oggie rattled off a little information but admitted he didn’t know much.
Mari listened, provided them with food and water, then left the tent. She said, “Attendants will be by to bring you to the tent shortly.”
“No mingling?” Oggie asked.
“Other business—”
“In the morning,” Oggie finished.
She gave him a wry smile.
About an hour later, a pair of teenagers came by. They brought them to relieve themselves and wash up.
They didn’t talk much, which Arden figured had to do with their tribe’s ban on talking to strangers too much.
He understood it, in a way. Getting to know someone too much could make it hard to take them as a lover. First impressions mattered a lot.
He tried to prepare himself for an awkward, boring night. He didn’t think he’d find anyone he wanted, no matter how much jessa they burned.
Whatever jessa was.
Their attendants brought them to a tent with sweet smoke trickling out of it.
“We can take your clothes,” one offered.
“Oh, no thanks,” Arden said.
He stepped into the tent.
The smoke made Arden immediately feel lightheaded and kind of silly.
Half a dozen women in their twenties or thirties sat inside, some dressed, some otherwise. Their eyes looked a little glassy.
Arden took a seat on one of the cushions.
When Oggie stepped in, undressed, every pair of eyes went to him. He smiled at Arden. “I do very well at orgies, sugar.”
“I’m sure you do.”
A pretty young woman gestured for Oggie to come sit next to her.
He went. “I’m Oggie.”
She giggled. She immediately put her hand between his legs.
Without missing a beat, he took her hand back and kissed her palm. “What’s the rush?”
“Jessa wears off in a couple hours,” one of the women told him.
“Oh, I do just fine without it,” he promised warmly.
Arden’s cheeks had started to warm.
Four women had crowded around Oggie.
One woman lay on her back, having a good time on her own on at the far end of the tent.
Arden tried not to stare.
A woman, about thirty or maybe a little younger, came to sit next to Arden. “I’m Holly.”
“Arden.”
“I heard you’re from space.”
“A space station. We’re not, you know, we’re human.”
She smiled. “You look pretty human.”
“Are we allowed to talk about other stuff? I thought we were here to make babies.”
She grimaced. “There’s not enough jessa in the world to make me want to do it with a man.”
“Yeah, I…” Arden glanced around the tent. He didn’t have an issue with any of the women. His eyes landed on Oggie, though, who had his arms around two women.
They’d all cuddled up together.
“It’s not that I don’t like women. I mean, I did it with a woman once, and there have been others I wanted to be with but…” Arden shrug
ged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m picky.”
“Your friend seems to have, uh, shouldered that burden for you.”
Arden snorted.
He looked at Oggie again.
“I bet you could pick off that one with the freckles,” Arden told Holly.
A freckled woman with golden skin seemed more interested in the girl beside her, who focused fully on Oggie.
No one had done anything more than cuddle, or kiss, or purr yet, but Arden felt hot all over. He was glad he’d left his clothes on.
“Ah, Sher wants a baby so bad, I’m not going to ruin it for her. You think he can handle four, though? That’s a tall order.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
He and Holly had a bit of a running commentary on the actions of the others, postulations, and guesses as to how things would go.
Oggie snuggled and squirmed, he caressed and kissed, but that was about it.
He had his mouth on someone’s throat when he made eye contact with Arden.
Arden swallowed. His mouth had filled with saliva, which he disliked as much as he disliked the tense, hot discomfort between his legs.
It got worse the longer Oggie looked at him.
He dropped his eyes, then glanced back to find Oggie still looking in his direction.
Holly said, “You should probably just go over.”
Arden shook his head.
Oggie shrugged his way out of the pile of women. He crawled across the cushions to Arden.
Arden licked his lips and swallowed. He tried not to squirm but desperately wanted some kind of stimulation. He’d be fondling himself in a corner in a few minutes.
“You don’t want to come over, sugar?” Oggie asked, kneeling in front of Arden. Fuzzy, golden hair on his thighs glowed in the low light of the tent.
“Not…not really into orgies, I guess.”
“Drugs not helping?”
Arden swallowed and thought of all the things he’d rather be doing with his mouth. “Go on back, you looked like you were having fun.”
Oggie glanced over his shoulder.
The women had surged together in his absence.
“They won’t miss me.” His eyes shone and his lips had gone ruddy. He had color in his cheeks and a flush all over his body.
Arden tried, and failed, not to glance between his legs.
Beautiful all over, but Arden had known that.
“Go on, shug,” he encouraged gently.
“I. I don’t know.”
“Don’t you want me?”
Arden stared at his mouth. “Not, not as an obligation, or a quid pro quo.”
Oggie grinned. “You’ll regret it either way.”
“Og, I don’t want to be another person who hurt you.”
“Arden, you’ve already hurt me so badly,” Oggie said. His eyes shone in the light.
Holly quietly moved away from them.
“You hurt me every day. You smile while you do it.” A few tears slipped down his cheek leaving perfect trails on his skin.
Arden’s throat tightened and his heart twisted, which conflicted awfully with the vicious hardness between his legs. He tried to swallow. “It’s warm in here, don’t you think?”
Oggie dragged his fingers over the fly of Arden’s pants.
Arden gasped.
“Get undressed.” He kept his hand over Arden’s cock.
“Oggie, I don’t want to hurt you,” he pleaded.
Oggie took his hand back and grabbed Arden’s jaw. “Then stop pretending to be my friend.”
Arden wanted to weep.
The sounds of pleasure from the other side of the tent turned his stomach and heated his guts all at once.
“Which is it, Arden, you want to go jerk off alone or do you want to finally fuck me?” His fingers dug into Arden’s jaw.
“Why are you being so mean?”
“Because I hate you so fucking much. I hate that you don’t get mad at me, or look at me, or…Or…!”
“Oggie,” he begged.
“I plotted to fucking kill you, Arden, and you didn’t even care, it didn’t even bother you. I don’t understand why you keep pretending to like me, but I can’t…You know, I’d rather keep playing this stupid fucking game than not see you anymore,” Oggie growled.
Arden didn’t understand.
Oggie needed professional help, and a stint in rehab, and maybe medication. But maybe, Arden realized, more than any of those things, he needed something he’d probably never had in his entire life.
Not from a distant mother, disillusioned father, or angry sister, or from any of the people who only saw how beautiful he was.
He put his hand on Oggie’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his jaw. “Oggie, I love you.”
“Shut up.”
“I do, I love you. I love you so much that it doesn’t matter what you do to me. Kill me or hurt me or take everything I have. I don’t care.”
Oggie grabbed him.
Arden took in a sharp breath. “Please.”
Oggie kissed him, hard, almost too hard, and desperately. He clambered into Arden’s lap and wrapped his arms around Arden so tightly he could barely move. He pulled back and stared down at Arden. “You don’t mean it.” He practically vibrated against Arden.
“I love you.”
Oggie pulled Arden’s hair hard and put his other hand around Arden’s throat. He squeezed dangerously hard. “You don’t.” His voice shook.
Arden couldn’t breathe well enough to protest. He put his hand over Oggie’s wrist again and leaned into his hold. He kissed him, softly.
Oggie went slack. He started to pull back. “Sugar, I’m sorry, that was…I don’t…”
Arden didn’t let him go.
“What the fuck,” Oggie whispered.
Arden held on to him.
Despite the emotional turmoil, he was still urgently aroused. He kissed Oggie’s bare skin, his throat and shoulders.
Oggie sighed and leaned in.
“Tell me it’s okay,” Arden requested. It hurt a little to swallow or talk. He wondered if he’d have bruises in the morning.
Oggie nodded.
Arden kissed him, slower than before.
The others in the tent had abandoned the idea of making a new generation entirely, writhing together with increasing frenzy.
Oggie pulled Arden’s shirt over his head, worked at the fly on his pants. “Let me see you, sugar,” he breathed.
Arden thrust up against his hand as soon as Oggie freed him.
Oggie pushed him back, straddled him, then spit into his palm and wrapped his hand around both of them.
Arden arched up and still wanted him to be closer. He drew him down so he could kiss him, so he could taste his skin, smell it. He wanted as much of Oggie in as many of his senses as possible.
The others in the tent had reached their crescendo and quieted, and now seemed amused by something.
Probably whatever herb they’d burned to create this atmosphere.
Arden didn’t care.
He cared about Oggie.
They rolled their bodies together more frantically than Arden had imagined.
Not that he’d imagined this much. He hadn’t let himself. He’d known as soon as he did, he’d start pursuing it.
He came, a hot rush of pleasure that faded and left him feeling sweaty and hollow, and rather sticky.
Oggie gave a few last rolls of his hips before he finished, too. He buried his face in Arden’s throat. He started to pull back.
Arden didn’t let him go. “Stay.”
“No foreplay at all, I was right.”
Arden snorted. “Next time I’ll rim you for an hour beforehand.”
“I will hold you to that, sugar.”
Arden, less distracted now, became more aware of the giggles and whispers around them.
He and Oggie pulled apart to find they’d earned an audience.
Holly, looking ruffled and pleased, said, “Anything left
for the next generation?” with a ridiculous smile on her face.
Arden glanced at Oggie.
“You can just scoop some up,” Oggie said with a gesture toward his belly. “That’s how they made Arden, anyway.”
“My mother most certainly did not scoop cum off someone’s stomach at an orgy,” Arden protested stiffly. “I was made in a lab.”
Oggie shrugged. To the women, he said, “Offer stands.” He examined his hand, then glanced around the tent. He made a face.
Arden said, “Listen, don’t bother. There’s tons of men on Eden, you won’t have to have weird tent orgies anymore.” He couldn’t quite believe he had to interact with people so soon after orgasm. He needed a cuddle and a shower, not a chat.
“It’s not weird!” one woman protested.
“It’s definitely weird,” Holly said.
“Wait, what’s Eden?” someone asked.
“It’s his kingdom,” Oggie said. He rested his hand carefully on his thigh, apparently resigned to its state.
“I’m not a king.”
“It’s his autarky,” Oggie amended snottily. “It’s a fuck-off big space station.”
The women stared at him.
“No one wanted to mention that beforehand?” Holly asked.
“I tried! That woman, Mari? She said all business had to wait until after this!” He gestured around the tent. He wiped his hand on his thigh when he caught a glisten of cum on his palm.
One of the women pointed to a bowl of water and a pile of cloths by the fire.
Arden wet one for himself and Oggie.
“Oh, you’re a doll,” Oggie said and immediately went for his hand.
They wiped up and answered the barrage of questions the women had about Eden.
Oggie didn’t talk much. He sat a little way away from Arden, sort of curled in on himself.
Arden reached out and offered him his hand. Some people wanted space after sex, but Arden had always liked to cuddle.
Oggie didn’t noticed he’d held out his hand. Or he’d ignored it.
Arden started to worry.
“We should go tell everyone,” someone said.
“Wait until morning,” another advised. “They’ll freak out if we leave the tent. Mari gets all worked up!”
“Oh, do you remember that time with that moldy jessa? What a fucking mess!”
Someone brought out thin sheets.
They made up the cushions and sheets into makeshift beds on folding cots the women had retrieved from the sides of the tent.
