Past Pleasures

by Charlotte Stein

  She had to look away. It was terrifying—like something out of Alien.

  “Would you like some pleasure?”

  “Oh…um…that’s really nice of you. But no thanks. I…uh…just don’t swing that way.”

  Eg: into alien town.

  “Really awesome of you to offer, though.”

  “I will pleasure you.”

  And Kate would have pulled away. Run, in fact. She would have, if the woman hadn’t then started doing the craziest thing Kate had ever seen. Crazier than a world without women. Crazier than grape sex.

  The non-woman reached forward, and grasped her where her penis wasn’t. Literally grasped the air in front of her—oh Lord I’m naked! How did I not notice that?—and began pumping where no cock stood out, hard and eager.

  Which would have been fine, and hilarious—and oh, how she could have rolled her eyes and laughed and said well, I guess this Device wasn’t designed for me.

  If intense pleasure the likes of which she’d never known hadn’t then rung through her body, in great wrenching spasms.

  Chapter Four

  “Oh my word, you’ve killed her! You’ve killed her dead! Why, Tem, why?”

  Aley was leaking, and the woman was on the floor, and Tem simply couldn’t think what had happened. She had just flung herself off the chair, gasping. Then he had just watched her shiver all over, before her entire body went horribly, deathly still.

  Aley was likely right. He had killed the only woman in the world. And here was the final proof of her womanhood, too! No man had ever reacted like that, to the Device.

  “We’ve killed her,” he said, and felt his eyes leaking, as Aley’s were. “Oh Gods, what have we done? What shall we do?”

  “What do you mean what shall we do? You’re the one who always knows! Do you mean that you don’t know, now? Oh, how awful!”

  “We cannot even take her to the medical centre. What would they do with her? They would probably all faint with shock before they even got to treating her strange female body.”

  Tem reached out with one trembling hand, and stroked her lovely hair—which seemed to calm his companion, somewhat. He had that good look of wonderment on his face, again—that nice look, that always made Tem want to pet him and play with him.

  “Is it very soft?”

  He thought of her mouth, softer than sand.

  “She is very soft all over. I touched her lips, while you were away. I touched…I—maybe I shouldn’t have. I don’t think she liked it.”

  “You touched her lips? What were they like? Oh, look how plump they are. And she has so many eyelashes!”

  “The women in the Device don’t have any eyelashes.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh why did you put her in it, Tem? You should have known it was not meant for her!”

  Because it had seemed best. Because it had seemed better than the kissing, and the touching, and the other things that might have scared her. Because, because, because he was afraid, and apparently his fear had killed her.

  When she stirred, he felt sure his heart was about to break out of his chest and swallow Aley whole. And it seemed that Aley felt the same, because he clutched himself and screamed. It took them both a moment to creep on their knees back to her, and hover over her, and wait to see if she would make another move.

  “Did you not check her pulse?” Aley whispered, after a few seconds had passed.

  “I wasn’t sure she would have one,” he replied, but felt foolish for doing so. He leant down and put his ear close to those pink, sweet lips, waiting for a breath.

  “Check her throat.”

  “What if her main pulse is somewhere else?”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? She told me that men put their penises inside her!”

  “What? They don’t just rub them on the outside? I knew you were hiding information, from me!”

  “I am sorry, but—”

  Aley didn’t give him a chance to finish. Why would he, when details like this were emerging?

  “Where does it go?”

  He sighed and shook his head.

  “I’ve no idea, and if she’s dead we’ll never find out so shush. Let me listen.”

  He practically heard Aley hold his breath, just as something warm and moist hushed out over his skin. By all that was holy—she lived! He hadn’t killed her. She was breathing and stirring and—

  “I’m all right. Guys. I’m all right.”

  He jumped back immediately—how close would she find acceptable? It wouldn’t do to make her more uncomfortable, even if he was sure she had made sweet eyes at him, the day before. But who could say when she was an almost entirely different and new species? Maybe women didn’t make sweet eyes. Maybe women just said hello and shall I pleasure you, like in the Device.

  She sat up—though slowly—and reached for him.

  “It’s all right, Tem. Really. I’m just…wow. What was that?”

  She touched her temples—Lord but her hands were beautiful. So small, and hairless. He looked at his own big coarse things and felt crude, by comparison—even though most said he was fair. Not as fair as Aley, of course, but he had the nice fine cheekbones that she did. And a good full mouth. And the big dark eyes.

  Eyes almost as big as a woman’s—though that was all nonsense, now, wasn’t it? It was just wrong, completely wrong. He realised with a jolt that he would never be able to use the Device again, in quite the same way.

  “It sent impulses to your pleasure receptors. But maybe you received them differently,” Aley said.

  “Or maybe you just weren’t used to it.”

  “It felt—wow. It was just amazing. My body’s on fire.”

  Aley gasped.

  “Where?”

  “Whoa—calm down. Not real fire. Not real fire. Just, you know. It was like an orgasm.”

  “A what?”

  “A release.”

  “Ohhh. Well yes. That’s what it does. It provides us with stimulation.”

  “And doesn’t it make you guys flail around a bit?”

  Aley glanced at him, and he saw it in his eyes—the dullness of it, when compared to how she had reacted.

  “Not really.”

  It seemed somehow disheartening to answer so, however, and he tried to think of all the ways it might be different or the same for them, when using the Device. Did they gasp, in the way she had done? Did sex make her gasp?

  How to relate their world to hers, when there was no foundation? No common ground from which to come at things?

  “We sometimes make a sound. And we shiver,” Aley said, but that didn’t seem extensive enough. Until another thought occurred to him:

  “And we ejaculate! Which is—”

  “I know what that means,” she said, but she didn’t appear cross that he had assumed. Quite the contrary—her expression was something like amused, he felt. “Though I’m surprised. I mean, I’m guessing procreation is just done in a lab, now. Makes me wonder why your balls haven’t dried up.”

  He knew what she meant by balls, though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone use the term. And certainly not in relation to how dry they were.

  “Everything procreation-wise is done a lab, with gene samples. We’re sterile. But we do…we still—”

  “Make a mess. Once, I did it all over Tem’s face. He was furious!”

  He despaired at Aley, sometimes—he really did. The man could never check his tongue, even when he had no clue as to how someone might respond. He had already disturbed her once, with all the touching. And just because she seemed comfortable talking about this sort of thing, didn’t mean she wanted to hear about bodily fluids all over the place. Perhaps, in the past, they never did anything like that!

  Or perhaps they did. She had said, hadn’t she? Maybe they were doing it all the time, all over each other. Everywhere—up and down, left and right. Men and…men and women all writhing around until everyone released all over
each other. Many theorised that such activities were common, back when there were plenty of people of both genders to make them so—if only because of the fifty percent increase in possible variations—

  Men with women and women with men and women with women and men with men and men with men with women. And all of them conspiring to make his pulse thrum in his throat and wrists and…other places.

  It was far too hot in their apartment. He should have insisted with the warden, when the issue of temperature control came up.

  “We don’t…I mean, we don’t do that often. Though I wasn’t furious, at all! It’s not as though doing it on each other is considered—” Tem began, but Aley interrupted.

  “It’s not disgusting. Do you think it’s disgusting?”

  He wished, sometimes, that he had Aley’s blundering forthrightness.

  “I think you guys should probably stop talking like this.”

  Even if she was going to be offended by it. He felt his face heat, though he doubted it really made a difference to his already flushed appearance. Likely she had noticed, already. Did women notice things like that? Could she tell when…well. When men felt the need to use the Device? She had pulled herself up and put her back to the bed, but from where she was sitting she had a good view of all of his parts. Likely she had seen it yesterday, too, after they had kissed.

  Sometimes he longed to wear the dresses that the men in the sand fields did.

  “We’re sorry. Aley, tell her that you’re sorry.”

  Aley ducked his head appropriately, but he soon whipped his gaze back up when she waved her hands, and said, “No, no—don’t be. It’s just all so…sexy. And I don’t think it should be—I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

  Aley laughed, though Tem had no idea why. What did “taking advantage” even mean? She made it sound like a bad thing, but she was still kind of smiling, and wriggling. Her skin looked pink, the way his own did when he felt the tingles in his belly and that thick sort of overpowering desire.

  “I really don’t think I should be getting hot under the collar.”

  She paused, that dimpling smile hanging low on her lips. He wanted to say that she was cheeky, like Bod sometimes was. But he simply couldn’t tell if that applied to her, or if she was doing something different entirely.

  “You have no idea what that means, do you,” she added, finally.

  But Tem knew exactly what she meant. He could feel what she meant, thrumming through every blood vessel and nerve and pore. It was like something primal, dredging itself up from the bottom of the water-lakes. It felt out of control—not the same as when he sometimes woke in the night and just needed to rub his body against Aley’s.

  And though Aley always seemed satisfied with that, he knew that he did not. It just wasn’t enough, and this was why. Because of Kate. Because his body wanted something long dead and a thousand years ago.

  “I don’t even know if I should be saying any of these things,” she said, but her eyes were making signs, and he was almost sickly certain that if she had been a man, it would mean she was about to kiss him.

  But oh, it seemed he didn’t have to interpret or act on any of those things—because of Aley. Mad, bold Aley.

  “Tell us the things,” he said, breathless—and even touched her! He reached out, and touched her right on her leg. Tem had no idea how he dared, but that was Aley all over. Aley who had come to him and practically shouted, I saw a woman. She came into our apartment, from the past! In the middle of a crowded room.

  “Well…it’s just…you guys are very attractive. I mean, much more attractive than the average human man back where I come from—I guess it’s from selective gene manipulation or trying to get as close to women as possible, or something. Not that you look like women!”

  “We don’t look anything like you,” he said, before he could stop himself. Though he definitely would have liked to—his voice sounded so high and full of air.

  “No. No you don’t,” she murmured, then…oh then she reached up, and stroked her palm down one side of his face.

  He felt like doing as she had done, a moment before. Flinging himself about and gasping and maybe dying, a little.

  “You look amazing. And you’re both so…sweet and curious. I think I like that. A lot. I know I shouldn’t, but—”

  He knew his eyes went big when Aley suddenly lurched forward and kissed her. And open-mouthed, too! He had no idea if people in her time even kissed that way at all, and yet there he was, doing it to her.

  Though it quickly became clear that people did kiss like that, in her time. In fact, it became clear that people did it much more wetly and openly than he’d ever seen anyone do. He watched in fascination as her soft lips parted and her wet tongue—definitely her tongue—slipped into Aley’s mouth.

  Actually in his mouth. He would have voiced some sort of protest, if it were not for the deep pang of jealousy that seemed to be setting up home in his chest. When she finally pulled away from him—much to Aley’s stuttering forward reluctance—he wanted only to echo Aley’s words:

  “Oh! Do it again.”

  “I really—”

  But he never got to hear what she really wanted or felt, because Aley kissed her again. His hands went to her hair—all that thick, lovely, dark hair. She couldn’t seem to resist or protest. No surprise, really. Aley was very handsome and always knew how to go for what he wanted.

  Perhaps women really liked that.

  Perhaps they also liked pushing their tongues in and out of someone else’s mouth, then licking and licking when the man grew brave enough to return the whole thing. It certainly seemed as though she was enjoying herself, even if she also appeared to want to protest in some way. As though this was embarrassing or difficult, somehow.

  Though she protested less when Aley did what he often enjoyed having done to him—affectionate kisses, just at her jawline. He watched her spread her fingers into his hair, holding him there, eyes closed. She could have said words, then, if she had wanted to—but nothing came save for a sigh of delight.

  Aley was delighting her! He could never do the things Aley did so easily. Not even when she turned her head, just a little, and opened her eyes to let her gaze settle on him.

  He knew his mouth was hanging open, like a small child or a simpleton. But there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to stop it. And even less so when her free hand found its way to the nape of his neck, and ran into his hair, and was she pulling him towards her? It seemed as though she might well be doing so, but what if she wasn’t, what if she…

  He thought of his earlier musings: women and men and women and men. All the variations, as her mouth pressed sweetly to his.

  He immediately wanted to try the tongue thing, but held back—what if she only wanted to do that with men she really liked? And certainly it seemed that way, until he felt her lips part and slide against his, so hot and wet. It was a strange, intrusive thing to have her tongue suddenly pushing into his mouth, but it affected him more powerfully than he would have imagined.

  His—what had she called it?—his cock pulsed heavily within the tight confines of his uniform, already leaking. His mind fluttered to earlier conversations, to Aley babbling about spurting on his face, and suddenly it was her beneath him, her all messy and sticky with his fluid.

  The thought made him groan, embarrassingly, into her open mouth. Though what he had to be embarrassed about when Aley was already taking off his clothes, he had no idea. Is this what was going to happen? Were they going to do sex together? It seemed insane and yet—how intimate. What a thing to share!

  He wondered if she would object, if he tried to take off her clothes. The idea of touching not just her breasts, but her bare breasts, made his breath stutter in his chest—in truth he wasn’t sure if he was breathing at all. His mouth seemed full of her and her hand was pressed warmly to the nape of his neck and Lord, she smelt of something long forgotten and sweeter than rain.

  When she stopped
with the kissing and pulled at the hem of his uniform, he raised his arms for her without a word. It seemed best. Maybe if he did so, she would end this trembling excitement in him, to see what was beneath her clothes.

  His first urge on the top being removed was to hunch. It came on sudden—what if she didn’t like what she saw? All the hair, the hair all over him.. Other people in this time remarked on it—why wouldn’t she?

  But her hands stilled him. She spread them over his torso without a word, the corner of her mouth hooking slyly upward in an expression he couldn’t place. Cheeky, he thought, again, as she poked out her little pink tongue and leant forward, to lick the little point his right nipple had become.

  Behind her, Aley clapped his hands excitedly. Tem wished he could do the same, but instead found himself fixed, knelt up over her, a slave to the sudden wash of heat that surged through him.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t resist.”

  And only then did he remember that he had to breathe, in order to carry on living.

  “I think you’ve broken him!” Aley cried, and warmth and concern came to her lovely features.

  Her hands were still on his body, however.

  “I’m sorry, Tem. You just looked so edible, I couldn’t resist. Here, come on.” She stroked upwards, clasped his throat in both of her hands. Some of the tension went out of his body. “Let’s get on the bed.”

  And just like that, it swiftly returned. On the bed? Where he did things with Aley?

  She stood, and helped him to stand—though doing so only reinforced how weak his legs felt and how bare his body was. Aley, on the other hand, had already found a place on the bed. He had sprawled, completely nude and comfortable, right across its length.

  And he was stiff. Stiff, in front of her. It was bad enough that his own cock appeared to be pushing out the front of his trousers, obscenely. He cursed the uniform—it wasn’t so bad when you were average, but he knew he was very far from that, and probably even further from what she expected.

  But then she knelt on the bed, and made her face level with his, and her arm went around his shoulders. He felt her face press into his hair, close to his ear, and it occurred to him that she was keeping her back to Aley purposefully.