T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6)

by Frederick Gerty

  “It is a great annoyance,” Eagle One said. “I do not need an escort.”

  Yes you do, Lori thought, but not for long. “Yes, but it pleases the hosts, and lets them think they are important. They are treating me and Hunter and the family very well, as important and distinguished people, and we should accept this small token from them, annoying though it might be.” There, she hadn’t lied to her air car too much, maybe it would mollify the machine.

  “This is something you accept?”

  “Yes, it is. I am pleased to have it, and pleased the hosts think to offer it to us.”

  No answer, so presumably that satisfied it. And soon, soon as they could get off to Florez again, they would truly not need an escort from anyone. But she’d still probably accept one from the Rothfeld’s, no matter how Eagle One felt. If they ever came back here, that is.

  Chapter 3 - The Private Party

  Sunday passed in pleasant lassitude, Lori feeling much better, invigorated, and anxious to be out and about, swimming and snorkeling with the kits in the morning, then sailing with Hunter and their parents that afternoon, to a small islet for a picnic lunch and more snorkeling, with a cat nap on the way back, and a long cocktail hour as the afternoon eased into evening.

  The Rothfelds promised another party, “More fun than last night,” and well after dark, two servants ushered everyone into a lower level, dim dining room, a tight arc of low tables facing a raised platform, candles flickering here and there, soft lighting on the walls, a glowing carbon dioxide fog low between them and the amorphous lights centered on the stage, with music creating a cool and intimate background.

  Everyone was dressed scantily, beach sun coverups about the only articles of clothing on anyone. The Rothfelds visited back and forth from the end of the table, chatting as the meal began, pouring champagne in any empty glass. They sat to watch the entertainment, which continued through dinner–a troop of naked dancers and acrobats, who performed more and more intricate acts, to show the beauty, strength, and flexibility of the human body.

  “This is no more than we had last night, well, maybe a little more erotic, but not much,” Hunter whispered to Lori as the main entree plates were cleared.

  Lori pointed to the stage entrance, where a shiny and decorated black man entered with two equally dark statuesque women, who began to entice him, while he danced away from them, trying to elude them, or so it seemed. But soon, as the music tempo increased, they had him cornered, and erect, while he held them, lifting them to his face to lick their pussies, dancing and swaying right in front of each couple at the table, scarcely a meter away, the scent and sight of hot sex unmistakable, his erection hard and long and big, his low hanging dark balls swaying to and fro to give everyone a good look. Next, he lowered and entered the dancer he held, then the other, each alternatively, bottoms to the group. After that, he faced the audience, lifted one of the women up, the smaller of the two, and planted her on his erection, and moved her up and down to the beat of the music. Faster and faster he went, his penis a slick and glistening black rod in full view, the engorged, totally hairless pussy pulsing and puckering dark and pink as he pumped it up and down. The music reached a crescendo, he lifted the woman clear, and the penis throbbed once, and suddenly spurted great gobs of white up and out, a meter to his front, to land on the second woman, writhing there on the floor. The music began to fade, the lights started to dim, and the erection began to wilt. The trio backed away, and out. The fog dissipated.

  Lori, breathing hard, said, “You were saying?”

  Hunter, stunned, said only, “Wow.”

  A bare-chested waitress stopped in front of each couple, with a silver tray containing a small water pipe, a candle, and a wick. A cluster of incense sticks burned in a thin, silver, tall vase, a heavy scent of frankincense, or myrrh drifting around the room. Coffee and small, iced chocolates arrived for dessert. The lights slowly dimmed further, leaving the room in a medieval glow.

  Hunter looked at Lori, and she smiled, and nodded. “This might be fun,” she said, seeing everyone else taking the pipes up, too, and she waited as Hunter lit theirs, puffing it to smoky life, and passed it to her. The smoke felt hot and harsh in her throat, but she took it in, one puff, then another, and a third, to hold it for a moment, then moistened her throat with the sparkling wine. Back and forth the pipes went, as music played, more naked dancers contorted slowly in front of them, more beautiful and sexy bodies to watch, and they sipped the coffee and nibbled on the chocolates, and listened to the heavy music.

  Lori felt the heat migrate from her body to the sides of her face, then up and over her scalp, and her entire skin flushed. She thought she could count every bubble on her tongue from the wine. “What is this?” she asked Hunter, the words taking a huge effort.

  He seemed to ignore her for a time, watching the dancers, then he looked her way slowly and said, “I think it’s hashish. Or something. Very good.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  They finished the pipe, leaned against one another, listening to the beat of the music and watching the dancers.

  Soon, M. and Mme. Rothfeld joined the group on the stage, they became the center of attention, many hands on them, being undressed of their scanty attire, massaged, fondled, and enticed, while four sets of hands caressed and vied to touch them. Mme. lay back on a cushioned, slanted recliner, and many hands ran over and onto her body, and raising her ass onto a tall cushion, holding her legs up and open and her bare, pink labia wide apart. The men lifted M. Rothfeld up, and guided him into her. Legs wide, he began to move in and out of her, while the group around them swiveled the couple to and fro, a small red spotlight on the joined genitals, giving everyone a view of the action.

  Lori looked at Hunter. His penis was at full erection, and as she watched, he slid the foreskin down, exposing a pink glans, and he began to rub it lightly. She looked around the room to see every penis sticking up, with all eyes on their hosts, screwing away in front of them.

  Lori reached for Hunter, and took his erection in her hand, and assumed the caressing duties. Hunter pulled her to him with one arm, while his other sought her bare labia, and started to rub her there. She leaned against him and eased her legs apart. She felt hot, hot all over, and knew she wanted, needed, to do something extraordinary this night.

  The coupling couple moved back, a screen descended along the wall behind them, and a cambot moved into the room, a red light on top, and focused on the genitals. And Lori knew what to do, what she wanted to do, to feed her wanton lust. They watched the show go on, the pace steady for a time, everyone fascinated, and they saw the two slow their coupling, and groans and moans arise, and they stopped.

  Everyone cheered, raising glasses.

  Lori turned to Hunter, and she said, “I want it too, now, here. Will you?”

  “Sure,” he said slowly.

  Lori swept the table settings aside, slowly stood up, and knelt down in front of Hunter. She presented her ass to him, leaning on her elbows, looking back at him. He stared at her for a little while, his eyes wide, then lifted his hands, and ran them up her thighs, and parted her bare labia. “Oh, man,” he said, heavily. “You are so beautiful.” She thought he’d forgotten everyone else, and she was glad. He leaned forward, and kissed her with lips that felt like cool fire, soft and not burning, just enticing, and exciting. Lifting her head, she saw the cambot facing her, her image on the screen. The Rothfelds lay on the bed, close to one another, languid, half asleep in a hashish coma.

  “Controls?” she said softly, and a small controller appeared in front of her. With some difficulty, she moved the cambot up and to the side, and around behind her, and when Hunter moved back, stared at the huge image of her pussy on the screen–dim in the subdued light, but magnificent, slick, pink, bare of hair, smooth and puffy, a dark line between the two perfect arcs of her outer lips. Hunter moved his hands up, pulling her wide, revealing wavy pink caverns beyond. She heard murmurings around her, saw the Rothfelds stil
l lying in a stupor of sorts, but both now watching the screen.

  “You’re beautiful,” Hunter said, his voice thick, staring at her. “So beautiful...” And Lori knew he thought that. And now, she did too.

  I am beautiful, every part of me, and didn’t care if everyone else saw her, in fact, wanted them to. She stared at her pussy, mammoth on the screen, and gorgeous.

  Hunter released her, and staggered up to his feet, stepped up behind her, slowly planted one foot to either side of her knees, still holding her wide open, he eased closer, closer, seeking her pink gate. He pushed against her, hit her high, and a hand came in from the side on the screen, took the penis, pushed it down slightly, Hunter found her entry, and he plunged in.

  Momentarily, she closed her eyes, the sensation so pleasant, so powerful, so erotic, it overwhelmed her need to watch. But she recovered, swung the cambot behind them both, and moved it down and in closer, to see the huge hairless pinkish balls hanging down in the heat, swinging back and forth, two glowing globes, dangling and bumping against her. She focused on them, on the sack and its rounded contents, and they filled the screen for a time. She lowered the cambot some more, to better see them both.

  “They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice a husky hoarseness, “So beautiful.”

  Ignoring everything and everyone, intent on her own pleasure, her own wild fantasy, she pretended the image was going out all over the island, people were gathering near TVs to watch the wonderful lovers, see the great show they presented, their coupled organs, and on and out all over the world, all over space, and the universe, she the fucking queen of the cosmos. And on to Eagle One, that especially, she wanted Eagle One to see, to watch, to know what they did, and how she loved this man, and the joy he brought to her battered body.

  She eased her head down onto a fluffy pillow that had appeared from somewhere, and watched the screen, while her body thrilled to what was happening to it behind her head. The penis stroked on, in and out of her in a wonderful, thrilling rhythm, to the music now pounding all around them, a beat they met and followed, her pussy warm, hot, the sight of them going at it arousing her to a fever, an orgiastic performance in the making. Hunter went on and on, she couldn’t get enough, wanted him to do her all night, to let everyone have a good look, she manipulated the cambot in, zooming in as close as she could, then out a little again, the thrill of watching them going on and on. He felt wonderful inside her. Big. Hard. Hot. Steady.

  She felt Hunter’s pace change just a little, he seemed to swell in her, and she knew he was near. She was, too, and closed her eyes, let it happen, let her body take over, but she wasn’t quite there. She began to move a hand down between her legs, when another stopped it, and she felt cool fingers slide up her leg, and one begin to push on her clit. That would do it, her head came up, and she knew the world was about to end. And it did, she began to whimper, tried to stop, but the pleasure blasted up and over and through her, she tried to bite her lips, but abandoned it, as a scream, a wavering screech escaped her up-turned face, her voice joyous as she came in wonderful waves of climax, surging joy that went on and on and on. Almost forever.

  Her head collapsed down onto the pillow, and with half opened eyes, she looked at the screen, and saw, and heard Hunter bellowing, he plunged into her as far as he could, his balls gone, up tight in his scrotum, and he cried out as the cannabis-fueled climax racked him, small movements there barely seen.

  He hung in her a moment, his legs trembling, and the finger left her. Hunter staggered back, he tried to step down, but collapsed back into the soft chair behind him, and lay still.

  Lori turned her attention back to the screen, watching her vulva, and the thin liquid seeping out of its shiny folds. It’s just like Stephanie, I look just like her. The reflection pleased her immensely, and she watched the scene for a moment more, pleased with her performance. And Hunter’s. She remained as she was, until a servant arrived, with a warm cloth, and washed her. She went to stop it, but lacked the voice, and let herself be cleaned, and dried. She look up. All around her, people were fucking–her mother and father to her right, Hunter’s parents to her left, and Amanda and Ricky beyond them. She looked at the Rothfelds, and shared a smile. Mme. lifted a glass to her, her husband on top of and inside her again, and Lori smiled some more. Hunter lay where he’d fallen, in a stupor, he also washed and dried, and still half erect. She sat down next to him, and tried not to watch the others, but did anyway, smiling as one by one, they climaxed, more screams and moans in the room, the cambot relaying the images to the wallscreen.

  Everyone lay groggy and blitzed, content, hardly able to move, but eventually they all did, slowly standing and kissing the Rothfelds goodnight, she feeling all the men, and he kissing the women’s breasts, too, and they went on up to bed. Lori tugged her mother toward their room, and the others followed. In the bathroom, she asked her if it was her finger on her clit, and Ilene said it was. Lori hugged her, and said she was glad.

  The huge bed held six easily, and the two young lovers lay in its center, with the parents to either side, and the grandparents on a cot nearby. Music played, the volume low, and they dreamed cannabis dreams, and slept.

  Before dawn, Lori stirred, looking at Hunter in the dark. She caressed his face, and his eyes opened. “I am so horny,” she whispered. “Are you erect?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered slowly.

  “Fuck me,” she said.

  “Again? Now? Here?”

  “Yeah. Quietly. Don’t wake the folks.”

  “Oh, man,” Hunter said, slowly easing up and over and onto her. She opened her legs, and his hot erection poked at her. She guided it to her opening, and he slid easily in. He plunged fully inside, lying on top of her, and stopped. “You are hot. And tight. And wet.”

  “I know.” She wiggled her ass a little. “I love you. I love having you inside me. I’ve missed you.”

  “And I, you, darling.” He began to move, slowly, deeply, pushing into her, and slipping part way out again.

  Lori closed her eyes, still a little high, enjoying the sensation. After a while, she opened them again, to more light in the room, dawn neared, but was still a time away. In the added illumination, she saw her mother and father looking at them. “Sorry,” she started to whisper, “We didn’t mean to wake you...”

  Her mother put her finger to her lips, and smiled.

  “It’s OK,” a male voice said to her other side. Lori looked there to see Hunter’s parents also awake, and smiling.

  Hunter lifted his head, and stopped. Lori grunted at him, pushing her hips up. “Don’t stop,” she said, and turning her head to both parents in turn, said, “OK?”

  “Sure,” they said, and the women took one of her hands in theirs, and held them. The men were caressing their wives, rubbing their hands on their bodies, looking over them to watch Lori and Hunter.

  Lori looked from one to the other. She freed her hands, crossed them over her chest, and pointed her fingers at each couple, looking back and forth.

  Hunter’s father looked at her. “No, not without your OK...”

  Hunter still moving steadily in and out of Lori, said, “You don’t need our OK to do something you want to do. Nor do I have veto power over adults who wish to share something special with one another. And with us.”

  “It’s OK?” Ilene said.

  “Fine with me,” Hunter said, as Lori smiled, and tightened her vagina a time.

  Two men scrambled up and over them, a flurry of arms and legs, two erections standing out stiff. With giggles and moans from the moms, the men entered their new partners, and Lori saw their asses begin to move up and down. Again, the women found her hands, and the men’s hands came up to cover them, too. Lori lay on her back, holding hands with everyone, enjoying the sensation, her mind adrift, her knees up and legs wide, her passion rising. And later soft cries and moans sounded in the room, as one by one, the couples climaxed.

  Hunter lay on top of Lori, as the other men moved off t
o the side. Still inside her, he kissed her, willing to do it again. But he couldn’t, soon wilted, and slid out. He eased down to her side, and everyone lay still, content and dreaming again.

  Bright sunlight slanted horizontally into the room when they stirred again.

  “I need a bath, or a shower,” Ilene said. “Fresh spunk is running out of me. And these sheets are soaked.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Amanda said, sitting near the window with a cup of coffee.

  “Quite a show you all put on,” Ricky said, and Lori flushed, thinking he was speaking only of her last night. But he went on, “Call that quite an eye-opener, this morning.”

  “You saw us?” Ilene said, and Lori saw her a little pink, too.

  “Sure did.”

  “It was beautiful,” Amanda said, before anyone else could say anything. “Very loving, and nice to see.”

  “You too?” Marne asked.

  “‘Fraid not,” Ricky said, standing to look down at his drooping penis. “But the day’s early yet, maybe later,” and Amanda reached over and gave it a shake, as everyone laughed.

  “Ah, man, I really got to pee,” Alan said, getting out of bed, and heading for the bathroom. Everyone else followed him there, to pee and shower, or do both, crowding together, rubbing and hugging one another, Lori and Hunter especially. She saw both her parents whispering in his ear, and she wondered what they said.

  As they dried off, Amanda said, “Breakfast is a buffet at the pool. Come as you are,” and she started out and down the hall to the stairs.

  The kits rushed to meet them, stopping suddenly, sniffing the air, then the bodies.

  “You had the sex,” Nif said.

  “All of you,” Dayu added.

  “Yes, and it was quite wonderful,” Amanda said. “Now, what’s there to eat?”

  “Everything,” Nif said.

  The Rothfelds rose to greet them, with big smiles and more hugs. Mme. Rothfeld whispered to Lori as she held her in her arms, “You feel better now, n’est pas? The young man, he is good for you? Oui?”