Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt)

by S. A. Jackson

  “You are beautiful. Beautiful,” he whispered as he rocked.

  Her second orgasm pulsed through her without warning after his words, each throb seeming to get harder from the look in his eyes–shining with ecstasy from her pleasure. He moaned at the contortion around him, her pussy pulling him in tight as gentle undulations flowed through her. A trembling mess, she flung her arms across his broad shoulders, trying to steady herself.

  As the waves slowed, she hooked her ankles together across his back, entwining herself with him. She could feel the heavy beat of his heart as he lay on her, and sensed him tensing up. Jillian moved her hips harder, wanting him to be sated, satisfied. The thought of him about to spill into her increased her horniness–she was covered with a film of sweat but she was long beyond caring, trying to focus instead on his pleasure now.

  Faron wanted her to have more before he allowed himself to let go, he wanted to stay inside her hotness forever, and he rolled over so that she was on top of him. At first, she stayed parallel to his body, continuing the grinding he had been doing before, tilting so that she could still rub her button against the solid wall of his pelvis.

  Then, he pushed gently on her shoulders so that she sat upright, and placed hands roughly on her ass, moving her back and forth onto him. His eyes were half-hooded as he absorbed her form, delighting in the jumping of her breasts as he moved her. One of his hands left her ass and moved up to her breast, pushing it up and teasing her nipple with his forefinger.

  She reached her arms forward and spread her palms against his muscled chest. Still cupping her, his other hand moved around to where their genitals joined, and he put his thumb on her clit, so that each glide forward gave her an electric shock of delight. Arching her back, she rode against him, faster and faster until his eyes half-closed again and he started to grunt, grabbing her behind once more to keep the momentum going.

  She couldn’t resist looking at him as she felt his dick expand even further and got more excited at his closeness. Holding his face in her hands, she let him take control again as he rotated back to put himself on top. Locking his elbows so he could see her, he thrust and panted as she felt the heat in her pussy light once more.

  With a forceful push, she felt a hot spurt hit her insides as he grunted and spilt his seed into her. The next spurt convulsed her pussy into her third melting orgasm, and she leaked over his cock, their fluid mixing together, sticky and warm. As she clamped around him she felt the upward jerk of his ejaculation, and she became dizzy with the length and power of her final orgasm.

  She shivered, well and truly spent, her bones seemingly turned to water in her body as she relaxed to the point of paralysis.

  Faron stayed inside her, holding himself up slightly so as not to crush her. For a while, they both just stared at each other, regaining their breath and staying in the bubble they had just created. Then, a smile broke across Jillian’s face. It was sheer joy that she could not keep from showing. Faron smiled back and this made the joy rise into her throat where it erupted as laughter.

  “That was amazing. I wish I could tell you,” she said to him with a hint of regret at her decision.

  “I’m sorry I don’t know your words. You are perfect,” he replied.

  She kissed him, sorry that she had put up this act now, but feeling as though it were too late to admit to her lie.

  He kissed her back and lay by her side, covering her with silky fur and pulling her to him so he could cradle her in his arms. She rested her head upon his chest, the most content she had been in forever. For the first time since she had been brought to the village, she closed her eyes to sleep with her head completely free from worry.

  Chapter Eleven

  The light woke Jillian the next morning. Where the bed was positioned inside the hut, the morning sun sent a beam of light straight onto her face. She found she was smiling before she had even opened her eyes, and flopped her arm across to reach for her new man. Unable to locate him, she sat up to look around.

  Faron stood by the door, taking long gulps from a jug of water. She coughed to get his attention, knowing that words would be pointless and he turned to her. She patted the bed, inviting him back in. He seemed unresponsive to her flirting, almost sullen as he walked over and pecked her on the tip of her nose.

  “I know you can’t understand me. But I have to go out hunting with the tribe.”

  Jillian’s heart sank. She was bitterly disappointed at him leaving so soon. Wasn’t this supposed to be their honeymoon? She wanted to be with him, wanted him to hold her again–for him to touch her the way he had last night. The memory of it caused her lower regions to throb, and her disappointment grew.

  Faron paused by the door, ashamed at his lie, but knew that he had to do this before it poisoned him. For every crime there should be punishment, and he wanted to carry this out and get it over with.

  “You may go wherever you please within the village, but don’t roam outside. There are creatures in our wilderness that you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself against. It can be very dangerous.” He was stern, preoccupied. Frustration at the language barrier was obvious as he stopped to think. Pointing to the tree line then shaking his head, he hoped that she would get the message.

  Jillian nodded at his mime, signifying that she understood, but the shine had gone from her eyes and she panicked that she hadn’t been enough for him, hadn’t satisfied him enough and she had to muster up all her strength to flash him an unfelt smile as he left.

  To the side of the communal hut, Faron had gathered a few men. Ashan, Charin and Camil stood before him, expectant and surprised at being gathered so soon after his binding ceremony.

  Faron had to get this done. Last night, he had realized that he was in love with Jillian, and with that emotion there was great anger at the men in her colony who had mistreated her in such a way. It was playing on his mind, and as her mate and leader of the tribe, it was his duty to protect her–to protect his village.

  “I intend to extend a warning to the invaders. They must pay for what they did to my mate, and they must learn to never cross us. I want a clean, short warning. No deaths but a clear message. Understood?”

  The four males nodded. They understood and were willing for battle. Following their leader, they leapt into the trees.

  Faron lead them straight to the bunker that he had seen Jillian taken to, where the men hunted her as she tried to escape. Crouching atop the branches, they sat in wait, listening to Faron’s plans.

  “We will have to lure them out, they have invisible protection around the outside of the building. Stay here until the fence is down and others arrive. Then attack.”

  He pounced down to the floor, and his fellow men did the same. As one of the guards made his patrol around the outside, Faron rushed up, steering clear of the fence he knew was protecting them. Making wild hand gestures, he gesticulated his concerns to the wide-eyed guard. He made out that he had seen one of them, out in the forest by pointing to him and then out towards the trees. The guard seemed to understand, retrieving a block from his belt and talking into it with some urgency whilst keeping an eye on Faron.

  As three others came, Faron repeated his gestures and saw the men huddle. They had obviously decided he was reporting a sighting of Jillian and omitted the force field to step out towards the wilderness. As they did so, Faron called to his men who sprang from the branches.

  The element of surprise worked in their favor as the guards stumbled backwards at the shock of the ambush. Taking one each, the tribe picked their opponent leaving the guard who had spoken to them first to Faron.

  He took a run up and kicked out, mid-air. The blow hit the guard square on the jaw as he went straight down. Faron moved up to him slowly, knowing their feebleness was no match for his people.

  His fury at the way they had treated his mate provided the adrenalin that was rushing through him. They had certainly intended to kill her if she’d have been found, and he wanted to give them a serious
enough warning.

  To his left, Camil had picked one of the men up by his jacket, and held him for a moment before throwing him ten feet away, crumpled on the ground.

  Faron swiped his guard’s face as he tried to stand, leaving an angry welt that started to swell instantly.

  Ashan also had his man on the floor, and was holding back from exhibiting proper fighting mode, keeping in mind what his leader had told him–this battle was just a warning. The guard was already bleeding from the nose and weeping, staying down and putting up no struggle, so Ashan circled him slowly, making sure he stayed fearful.

  Charin was having more issues. His opponent was the most solid that he had ever seen of these beings. His wide bulk made him slow, however, and Charin was agile and nifty, able to duck and weave, laying well-placed hits onto the man’s jaw. Each one was accompanied by a cracking sound but the guard seemed to feel no pain, and remained standing–face red from rage. Charin knew he had to be careful, the guard kept reaching for the death weapon at his side–and he timed his jabs well enough to keep the man too busy from doing so. But he would not go down. Even a sprung kick in the center of his chest only gave him a momentary wobble.

  Ashan noticed his companion’s plight, although the guard hadn’t managed to get close enough to cause any damage, he was resistant to the fight, a seeming stonewall of strength. Giving the guard he was toying with a kick in the gut to disable him for a few moments, Ashan dashed over to Charin to assist with his battle.

  Faron watched on, feeling confident that his men could handle themselves. They were stronger and fitter, and sure enough he saw Charin’s guard topple, unable to stand against the two of them.

  A movement from the floor caught his eye and, to his horror, he saw the guard Ashan had left slowly reach for his death weapon.

  “No,” he cried out, running over to stop him.

  * * * *

  Back in the hut, Jillian hopped out of the bed and bent to pick up her scant pieces of clothing from the floor. She sighed at the flashback of Faron taking them off of her the previous evening, a mixture of happiness and worry swirling in her mind.

  He had been so different this morning, pre-occupied and uninterested. She was sure that he had enjoyed himself as much as she had–he should have woken up feeling fantastic, as she had before seeing his mood.

  Hoping that he’d make it up to her when he returned, she decided to explore the village properly now that she was free to, and dressed quickly, curiosity winning over. Plus, she was hungry, and wanted to see where she could get breakfast.

  Jillian felt a little nervous as she emerged into the warm morning sun alone. She hadn’t been into the village before the ceremony, and wasn’t sure what the protocol was–could she just wander into any building? Would they expect her to knock?

  She made her way toward the biggest hut with unsure steps, glancing back, at the very bottom of the village she saw her old prison, ramshackle and isolated. She would try her best to make a good impression on the people today–not wanting to end up back in there.

  The door to the building was open, and she peered inside to see several rows of large, wood tables. The space was big, like a hall, and she concluded that this must be where they ate together. It was decorated, much like the room she had just come from–cozy and inviting and a sweet smell wafting from the back of it made her stomach grumble.

  Just as she was about to make a tentative step in, Cara, one of the females who had prepped her yesterday, came rushing forward from a door at the top.

  “Come in, come in.” She insisted, taking Jillian’s hand and sitting her at one of the empty tables.

  “I’ll get you some food and water. You must be ravenous, right,” she said with a wink. Jillian smiled at her, mute. She was bubbly and friendly and put her instantly at ease.

  “Jillian,” she said slowly, pointing to herself, wanting to extend the hospitality she had been shown without revealing her lie.

  “Cara.” The girl beamed at her before vanishing behind the door. She returned with two other females, carrying a jug, goblets and a bowl of food. Setting it down in front of her, they all sat around, interested and intrigued at the stranger in their village.

  Each introduced themselves, waiting expectantly for Jillian to do the same, laughing softly at an accent that must have sounded strange to them.

  As Jillian ate a plate of sweetened grains, she listened to the females talk and comment about her. They spoke fast, and she could only make out bits here and there, but it seemed she had married the leader of the tribe, and commanded a great respect from the females. It felt good to be in the company of others, even if they couldn’t communicate, and Jillian finished her meal feeling very comfortable in their presence.

  * * * *

  Faron was fast, but he was too far away, and despite him moving like the wind, the guard managed to pull his weapon and a gunshot rang out, followed by more in quick succession.

  * * * *

  One of the females, calling herself Fenn, passed Jillian a smooth, large cloth and some cut fur, and waved for her to follow as she stood clutching one of those bright green bags. Holding onto the material parcel, she noticed that the cut fur must be clean clothing – and it seemed, or at lease she hoped, that there was a bit more to it that her current outfit.

  Walking with Fenn to the side of the main building, she pointed out what looked astonishingly like a shower. A pipe made from a rubbery, hollow plant flopped across the red ground and was lifted by a sturdy looking post, the end dangling down over it.

  Fenn made Jillian watch as she pulled out a stopper stuck in the end of the pipe, and a crystal clear stream of water came flowing out. Jillian almost clapped her hands at the ingenious design, and stripped off right away, having learnt yesterday that this race were not in the slightest prudish. She stepped under cold water and laughed at Fenn, who was stood gawping at her body. Fenn bowed an apology, fearing that she had been rude but Jillian waved to her, trying to communicate that it was okay.

  Once clean, she was again treated to the massaging application of oils and dressed. Her skirt was marginally longer, but the top half remained a thin strip, only just covering her modesty.

  Smiling her thanks to Fenn, she decided to make her way back to the bedroom, to await the return of her new husband.

  Chapter Twelve

  She had no way of knowing how long a hunt would last, and no way of asking, so Jillian made herself comfortable on the bed and hoped that it wouldn’t be too long a wait. She was just considering a nap when an elderly female she recognized from the ceremony stepped into the room.

  The woman was graying slightly, shots of silver running through her yellow hair, and her silken brown skin had tiny creases around the eyes and forehead. She was a little more rotund than the others which gave her a soft, kindly appearance in comparison to the bulging muscular build of the younger ones.

  The woman gestured for her to come and Jillian obediently obliged. Away from the circle of dwellings, they walked to another large hut. The walls were not adorned with artwork in this one, and the long table that ran the length of it was covered in some sort of wheat. Behind each of the benches that were pulled to the tables were large, tightly woven sacks.

  The woman sat down on one of these benches and extended her hand, meaning for Jillian to sit opposite. Once seated, she reached for a ceramic bowl and a teardrop shaped device, she passed similar objects across the table. Jillian examined them, not having a clue what to do with either.

  “We have to process our grain before we can eat it.” The woman explained. No doubt she had heard that Jillian could not speak the language, but she carried on explaining regardless, much to Jillian’s relief.

  “We need to gather some of the unprocessed wheat, put it in here.” The woman scooped some wheat from the table and placed it in the bowl. She looked to Jillian who realized she was supposed to be doing the same, and tentatively placed some into her own bowl. She was astonished. She had heard,
and taken as read, that the inhabitants of Zeta Prime were little more than primitives. She had envisioned them eating raw meat from carcasses and sleeping on the woodland floor–yet here she was, processing grain after a night’s sleep in a comfy bed and a shower when she woke. If only she had known before. If only any of the humans had known. Perhaps they would be living together, integrating harmoniously?

  “It needs to be crushed into a fine powder. Use the tool to mash it up, try and crush every grain.” The woman used the teardrop vessel to start mashing. It was like a pestle and mortar. Jillian felt relieved that the process was not too foreign or beyond her capabilities, she wanted to prove her worth to this woman, for some reason.

  Copying her action, she started to grind the wheat as the woman carried on talking.

  “Of course, we are all delighted that he has found a mate at last. He had plenty to choose from, but it seemed he had been waiting for you, all this time.”

  Jillian found her heart leaping at this information and fervently hoping it was true, that he had been waiting for her. It made her feel a little better about his sullen manner earlier that day, perhaps he had just been irritated at having to go out on a hunt and leave her?

  “Now you have a fine powder, simply tip it into the bag behind you. The cooks will come and fetch it later.”

  Jillian held her bowl to the woman, wanting her to check it had been done correctly. The woman nodded and pointed to her own, which seemed to be of the same consistency. Careful to wait until she had been shown rather than told, she then tipped the contents into the bag.

  The woman took another handful of wheat from the table and began mashing again, so Jillian followed suit, hoping that the lady would continue her chatter and provide her with more insight.

  * * * *