Venus Rising

by Annalise

  “Why don’t you take off your robe,” Link said to Grace8 and Evans wanted to kick him in the shins for being so quick to get the attendant involved.

  Grace8’s now dark hair fell over her shoulders like a sheet of ebony and her pubic mound was shaved and decorated with elaborate artwork. The body art was a golden design that gave the impression of entwining snakes sliding from the slit of her labia. Evans wondered if these same snakes also adorned Cloud9.

  Grace8 might have changed her hair color, but she was golden everywhere else. A dusting of glittery powder, one applied with a base that ensured it would remain on the attendant and not rub off on the client, graced the aureoles of her pierced nipples. In addition, she wore a gold ring through one of her labia and Evans knew it was situated to increase the friction against a man’s cock as he fucked her.

  The young woman stood facing Link with her hands crossed behind her back. The stance put her breasts forward. Evans remembered what she’d said about her nipple enhancement and controlled a shudder.

  “What are you waiting for?” Link asked. “You may speak.”

  “Shall I help your partner undress?” Grace8 asked.

  “By all means.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  As Grace8 approached her, Link turned away. Evans took the opportunity to whisper as she moved close. “My partner really wants a scenario like that last one we were in. He’s looking for a submissive like that young girl.”

  “In your dreams,” Grace8 whispered back, her hand slipping down Evans’s front to deliver a sharp tug to her nipple.

  Evans realized by the evil look on Grace8’s face that she’d made a mistake.

  Link found the only way to still the flush of nervousness that roiled his stomach was action, so he went to the bed and pulled back the top sheet, flipping it to the floor so all that remained was the wide acreage of the mattress. He figured it would be made of some substance guaranteed to enhance sex acts. The management certainly took their job of catering to wealthy hedonists seriously.

  Then, there was nothing left to do but watch. He sat down and tried to appear as if having two women at his disposal was an ordinary event. Or at least, that it was something he couldn’t wait to get involved in, rather than something he dreaded.

  How many times had Brad and he talked about this fantasy? They’d talked about having one twat in their face and another on their erection. Or, Brad’s favorite, screwing one woman from behind while watching her lick the bejeebers out of the other woman’s crotch.

  Right now, to his horror, he realized he felt as jealous of this dark beauty as he would be if it were Brad doing the honors. She was mauling Evans.

  It might be okay when your heart wasn’t involved and your brain fried with jealousy.

  And he was so hard he might explode on contact. How would Evans react to his arousal? His penis had hardened watching her pace. She’d never believe it wasn’t from the big boobs of the attendant.

  Brad, a breast man, would be fainting with lust right now if he were here. Link couldn’t help analyzing all the consequences and seeing them in a list.

  Evans angry.

  Evans wet from someone else’s ministrations.

  Evans kicking his balls if he got off with another woman.

  Evans having no reaction.

  Evans not caring.

  The last thought brought him back to the here and now. What if Evans didn’t give a shit about his reaction to this woman?

  It was imperative he examine Evans for clues to her thoughts and feelings. He knew her so well. He’d know when she was angry… hurt. Happy. Maybe.

  Now that he knew she was an undercover HS agent, that must mean the whole covert package… lying, faking, lying, faking. He couldn’t imagine having his life depend on making no false moves, no mistakes, giving no trust. There was no way he wanted a career undercover. Give him a standup fight any day.

  Shit, what if I screw this up?

  The attendant stood behind Evans. She stroked her hands from Evans’s shoulders, down her arms, then to her breasts, peeling the gown as she went. He frowned. He didn’t like the submissive way Evans was behaving.

  Her nipples were hard already, but the attendant tugged and stroked them before smoothing the gown to her hips.

  His cock took notice of the rosy nipples that he knew the taste and shape of. He also noted that this strip was for his benefit, rather than for Evans’s pleasure. He realized that there might be three people in the room, but only he was a paying client. Evans was an appendage for his pleasure, so he knew without being told that anything done to Evans would only be done if it was thought to please him.

  It stirred him, watching another woman disrobe this woman he loved, watching the fluid fabric sliding over Evans’s slim hips. His cock was hard as a landing strut when the woman moved to Evans’s side and eased the gown an inch at a time down her thighs. The woman licked Evans’s hip.

  His body clenched. He’d come the instant Evans climbed on board.

  Shit. What if the attendant climbed on his penis? He sat up straighter and said, “What’s your name?”

  “I’m called Grace8,” the woman said. “Would you like me to please your partner?”

  “Ah. That is. I’ve never done this.”

  The ever-watchful god of the brothel said, “The attendant is yours to command. Ask anything of her, save violence, and it will be performed.”

  Link realized those two words, save violence, meant they’d not gotten deep enough into the menus.

  “We have an upgrade today that would include your host’s participation in the pleasure for no extra cost.”

  Link remembered the eager young man who’d helped him disrobe. If he couldn’t get a grip on the idea of some other woman sitting on his cock while Evans was around to do the honors, how was he going to handle some other guy’s cock competing for space? He ignored the voice.

  Then he almost swallowed his tongue. Grace8 was licking Evan’s nipples. Evans glared at him over the attendant’s head. He grinned and kissed the air at her. And she smiled. A sound like a snort of laughter came from her throat.

  Suddenly, all his self-consciousness washed away like footprints on the beach in Maine. He centered himself on the bed. “Bring ‘er here, Grace8. Bring ‘er here.”

  Grace8 put her arm through Evans’s and led her to stand before him.

  “Now, here’s what I want, ladies—my servant on board and you, Grace8, you see that there aren’t any erogenous zones left lonely while we’re at it. And that’s any erogenous zones on her or on me.”

  He unbelted his robe and spread it open. Grace8 helped Evans onto his erection, but not before giving it a long, leisurely stroke. Evans shot him a look that would blister a heat shield.

  “That’s perfect, ladies,” he just managed to say as he arched into the heated silk of Evan’s body.

  She planted her hands on his shoulders, nails biting to tell him her true feelings. They served as a sharp counterpoint to the attendant’s wet lips busy on his balls.

  Then Grace8’s fingertips left him to tease Evans’s clit. Evans’s eyes went wide. The urge to laugh as she fought the arousal took the smooth rhythm from his strokes.

  The ever watchful god said, “We have a special offer today. Your attendant will be happy to offer you a second hour of her time for half the credits. Simply extend your session by saying, ‘Upgrade.’”

  Link fought the urge to do so. This woman wasn’t Angel Martinez. They needed to dig deeper, not play games.

  He had only a few moments left. Evans had her head back, eyes closed, the stretch of her neck drawing his hand. He wrapped his fingers about her throat and caressed the smooth skin, eyes closed.

  He lifted his knees and Evans tipped forward. He jerked his cock in and out of her, moaning. The attendant kept her hands and mouth busy on whatever spot she could reach, but he was only tangentially aware of her touch, his entire being focused on the hot clasp of Evan’s body, the moist puff of
her panting breath against his cheek, the stifled moans from deep in her chest—a Grade A, unimproved chest.

  Evans imagined herself alone in Link’s arms. It took little to block out Grace8. All that mattered was the feel of his rock-hard biceps, his damned uncomfortable, rock-hard chest, and the equally granite length of his penis stroking into her.

  Then Grace8 scratched Evans’s clitoris so hard she cried out with the pain. It was a needle hot pain. Deliberate.

  Link would never know. Grace8 had chosen the exact moment he’d stiffened under her, his body racked by the spasms of orgasm.

  At the first moment his arms relaxed, she tore from his grasp, rolling away from Grace8’s sharp nails.

  Curled on her side, a hand pressed between her thighs, Evans watched Grace8 lick Link’s balls and penis as a cat licks cream from a bowl. The soft sigh of a door opening in the wall told her it was wash-up time. She pictured the bathing cloths, the pouch to seal them in.

  She imagined them sliding down a chute to a busy compacting facility, somewhere in the bowels of the building. Just the place for Grace8’s stupid wig, too. It was a touch off-center on her forehead now from all her toils between Link’s thighs. Under the wig, Grace8 now had a shaved head.

  Grace8 performed the cleansing process on Link. To avoid the sight of those sharp nails caressing as they cleaned, Evans pulled on her gown.

  Link never took his eyes off her. What was he thinking? What was he feeling?

  Evans knew from the cafeteria discussions among the attendants that most of them would avoid clients who didn’t take sperm suppressors. It was such a rarity, however, to copulate with a man who still spilled real semen, that some of the attendants found it very arousing.

  Grace8 appeared to be one of those.

  And the scratch? It was a message.

  About what? Maybe for supplanting her in the fetish scenario. Or was it simply an exercise of power?

  Evans felt her heart sink. There was no way Grace8 would help her find Angel or anything else.

  Grace8 stroked the cleansing cloth on Link as if leaving even one cell of his semen behind might get her sentenced to a tethered sunning in the garden outside. Evans was sure this sensual bathing was to remind the client that other delights existed for him.

  “We have a special chamber,” said the brothel voice, “fitted for a group bathing experience. If you like the sensual delights of water, we have an offer good for one week that will be sure to delight you. Two Palace attendants for the price of one.”

  “Where do I sign up?” Link said.

  “Simply say, ‘Partner bath.’”

  “Partner bath.”

  Evans nodded approval. She made it as professional a nod as she could muster.

  While Grace8 held Link’s robe for him, she gave Evans a satisfied smirk. Evans rubbed her cheek with her middle finger.

  Chapter 16

  Outside, when Link and Evans had gained the privacy of his PF, she turned to him. “You enjoyed that too much.”

  He shrugged and bit on his lip to keep from laughing at her indignant tone of voice. “Was her eyesight unimproved or was she just trying to see inside my ass?”

  “Very funny. I know her. She’s the attendant I wanted to talk to. We must have a psychic connection.”

  “You didn’t look like you were trying to get anything out of her.”

  “Believe me, I tried. She wasn’t cooperative.”

  “She was certainly all over us. I think I’ll pick her next time… next time I need my pipes plumbed.”

  “Not funny.”

  Link ruffled her hair. “I’m teasing.”

  “She scratched my clit.”

  He lost his smile. “Say again.”

  “She scraped my clit, hard, with her nails. It not only hurt, it also ended any hope I’ll feel any fun for at least a few hours.”

  “Well, scrape or no scrape, when we go for the tub fun, I won’t be picking her. We can’t choose the same person twice—”

  “Right. That would be a waste of time. We need to pick a younger looking woman each time.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments then Link said, “Grace8 was way too intense. The only thing that kept her from eating my balls whole was probably some rule The Palace has about cannibalism.”

  “I’ll eat your balls whole if you like.”

  It was said in jest, but the silence that fell between them was filled with something heavy and hot. He let the PF drift into a cul-de-sac formed by three office complexes. It was dark and silent now that commerce had shut its doors for the day.

  “Cameras,” she said softly when he took her hand and rubbed his thumb across her palm.

  “So they’ll get an eye full.”

  With a punch of his index finger on a button, the PF’s seats tilted back.

  Evans felt the same heat she imagined was filling Link’s cock. Her insides felt as warm as syrup. The wetness was not just his semen but her own juices as well.

  His groan was low and guttural when she tore his trousers open and pushed them over his hips. They struggled in the small space to get him naked from the waist down.

  The scent of him was warm and fragrant, luckily mixed not with that of another woman’s body, but with the neutral one of the cleansing cloths. She slipped onto her knees between his. He propped a foot up on the PF’s seat and let his thighs fall apart.

  “Evans.” He gasped when she drew one of his testicles into her mouth. “I’m gonna die.”

  “No, that’s one thing I can guarantee. You’re too alive.”

  “You know what I really want?” he whispered, his hands restless on her hair as she stroked his balls with her tongue, suckling them, drawing them alternately into her mouth.

  One of her bare shoulders lifted in question.

  “I want the mind fuck.”

  He was moist with sweat and her saliva and she used it to stroke the smooth skin behind his balls, rubbing him gently.

  “The mind fuck, Evans. I want it.”

  She rose over him and straddled his lap, and stood his penis gently against her sore clit.

  “Taste yourself on my lips.” She ducked her head and lapped at his mouth. “This is your taste. And I love it.”

  She bit his lower lip, fuller now, she was sure, with his arousal. His tongue followed hers, his teeth suckling her lip as she had his.

  “This is what I want from you,” she said, and wrapped her hands around his penis, stiff between their bellies.

  Slowly, she stroked him. “If I close my eyes,” and she did, to emphasize her point, “I feel more. I can almost feel the blood rushing through these veins.” She teased her fingertips up and down the swollen blood vessels on his shaft. “I feel the stretch of your skin here.” She skimmed her palm across the engorged head of his cock.

  He groaned and thrust a few times into her hand.

  She smiled inside. And wished her clit was capable of responding.

  “I feel the silk of your come.” She swirled her thumb across the drops that oozed from the head of his cock, then opened her eyes.

  His were wide open, his lips slightly parted. She drew her thumb back and forth on his lower lip and said, “I like to keep my eyes open. That way I can see yours. Eyes don’t lie, Link. They tell the truth.”

  “What truth?” He whispered, lifting his hands from her hips to cup her face in his large palms.

  The truth that you might love me as much as I love you.

  But she didn’t say it. It was too late as Link came with a groan.

  She felt the hot flow of his come across her hands. She raised them and licked the semen as Grace8 had.

  “This is what I love. Your taste.” She licked her fingertips, then drew them deep into her mouth. He arched and bucked beneath her when she sealed her mouth over his, slicking his tongue with his seed, driving her tongue deep into his mouth.

  Link gasped for air when Evans drew back. His chest was tight. “I think I’m having a coronary, right he
re. Now. In a dark alley, far from help. They’ll find me in the morning, my pants around my ankles, my balls shriveled to marbles.”

  “Marbles cannot change from soft and warm to hard and warm.”

  When she giggled, he felt all the tension seep out of his body. He slapped her bare bottom. “You weren’t taking this very seriously, were you? I was busy going mad with desire, mentally fucked and sucked, and you were just teasing me.”

  No, I wasn’t, but it’s best you think so. She felt the burn of tears behind her eyes.

  He put her on her back in the tiny space, doing as she had, kneeling between her thighs. “We both know I’m an amateur in the mind-fuck game, so I’ll just do what I know best.”

  She held him off with her hands planted on his shoulders. “No. Don’t. It still hurts.”

  “I’ll be gentle.”

  He touched the tip of his tongue to her swollen clit. “Why didn’t you have lip jewelry?”

  “Tacky,” she said and jammed her heels against the control panel. “If you’re unimproved, you have to be completely natural. Nothing enhancing your –”

  “Beauty. You are beautiful, Sara.”

  “Sara?”

  He blew warm air on her clit, not quite touching it with his lips, and slid a finger into her.

  When he felt her body relax and her hands changed from fending to caressing, he lifted his head. “I think it’s time I admitted who you are to me. You’re not that cadet from ten years ago.” He kissed her inner thigh.

  “You’re not some brothel pole princess.” He drew his cheek, now a touch rough from the reemergence of whiskers, across the tender inside of her knee. “You’re the woman I love.”

  She looked for sincerity in his gaze, and saw it.

  “You did it, Link. You finally… mind-fucked me.”

  He puffed warm, moist air on her clit a second time. She writhed her hips and moaned. When he licked her lightly, she came. Her cry filled the small PF’s space, throbbing around them.

  In the utter, heavy silence that followed her sharp cries, he said. “So, Sara, what do you say? Be Evans on duty and Sara in my arms—in private, where no one can see us, or hear us, or care what we do or think.”