by Chogan Swan
This isn't about us … We are NOT niiaH.
Quiet now.
Together.
One.
Consensus.
This …
Una bent forward again, this time reaching up to hold Barton in a long, quiet embrace, her legs on his, body-to-body, arms wrapped around him. By degrees, they both stopped trembling.
Una slid her hands under him and along his back and up to his shoulders. Softly she began to knead the tension from them, working down his spine to his hips then up again.
Barton sighed and wrapped his arms over hers, holding her close. Her awareness of his sex—firm and long, a pressure on her legs, mons and stomach—returned in a rush.
Though its length and girth made it more intimidating than the nutrient pod had been on the day one had awoken, she wanted it inside her—even though, or especially because—it wouldn’t melt away once inside like the pod had.
The lubricating fluid that had started flowing when she’d peeled Barton’s clothes off had run over his erection and gathered on his stomach.
Una rubbed the opening of her life orifice down the length of his shaft on the near side. At the same time, she slid her right hand down between them and transferred some fluid to the long shaft and glans on the side nearest his stomach.
Then she braced her tail against the foot of the bed. Placing the tip of him at her entrance, she pulled her hips down, forcing him inside.
Una gasped as the mushroom-shaped head entered her and expanded, flowering open once past the pressure of the thick ring of muscle at her bagua’s orifice. With her tail, she continued pulling herself down while she held him under his arms to keep his body from sliding down the bed as she pushed him deeper inside.
A line of fire traced itself inside Una where the tip of him released an early hint of seminal fluid that her body subsumed eagerly, spreading a glow of warmth across her belly.
It was a long, slow journey, and both of them gasped in ragged bursts as the pressure continued growing as her muscles resisted the stretching along the way. After twenty centimeters of strenuous forward progress, the head of his glans began to cross the nerve cluster of her pleasure node. The fire that had crept along as she pushed him into her became an inferno as the trickle of his fluid and the pressure of the broad tip of him spread across the sensitive nerves.
Waves of contractions shot up her muscular canal as orgasm swept over her.
Una held Barton tight in her arms as her body vibrated in waves that radiated out from her pleasure node. When the jerking spasms of her muscles sent Barton over the edge, he arched upward, plowing into her. His hands found her hips, and he pulled her to him until his pubic bone collided with hers. Una screamed as the last six centimeters of him slid inside, filling her completely and pressing tenderly against the opening of her womb.
He drew back his hips, and her own contractions forced the first jet of his fluid to splash inside her, coating her pleasure node. She jerked him back in, and the force spread the fire everywhere as—again—he collided with her womb.
Una clamped down, holding Barton deep inside her as both of them bucked and shuddered. Liquid fire continued pumping inside her.
For Una, all sense of time faded, filling eternity with explosion after explosion. Her body trembled and quaked, contracting around him, refusing to let him go. Her tail slammed her body against his over and over until he responded again, and another orgasm poured fresh fluid into her.
Sometime later, she stopped the thrusting, but her shudders and contractions continued vibrating as his body began to heat with fever.
The orgasming had brought down her milk, and she recovered enough presence of mind to direct her breasts to his mouth. Pushing her nipples together, she held them to his lips.
“Drink,” she said, voice raw. “It will help you through the fever.” The sensation of releasing it into his mouth, both nipples at once, continued fueling her contractions of pleasure as he fell into a deep sleep.
Una stayed where she was, caressing him inside, unwilling to move away or release him.
I want to stay here forever.
And, no one else objected … all night long.
∆ ∆ ∆
Una had been awake most of the night, thinking then not thinking, conversing with her different viewpoints, or replaying the memory of her first truly sexual experience in this body.
All viewpoints agreed it had been beyond anything they'd imagined even could happen. At some point in the early morning, Una fell asleep on top of Barton, still unwilling to let go.
She awoke at the sensation of him stiffening inside her again, which was a good thing. But when she shook off her sleepiness, she confronted an unpleasant odor—considering the circumstances.
Guilt.
She opened her eyes and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “You're feeling conflicted. What did I miss? Why didn't this come up last night?”
Barton winced. “I don't know, Una. I guess I was focused on you telling me you could cure the herpes virus. I was so grateful. I wasn't expecting anything more emotionally, but I did … I do, and I'm wondering if you do too. But that leaves Alice, who may still be alive and lost in the apocalypse somewhere.”
“Alice. Is she the one who gave you HSV
“No. We'd both contracted it from before. We found each other later. Damage done.”
Una nodded. “That makes a hell of a motive to get together, doesn't it?”
Barton sighed. “Yeah, maybe it was a dark spot over both of us. I always wondered whether we would have gotten together if not for that.”
“Well, if we find her, you two can work that out after I cure her. You're immune to it now by the way.”
Barton touched her cheek. “But …”
“Look, Charles, my nose doesn't lie. I know the smell of guilt. The thing is, I've already got plenty of my own to deal with. I have no interest in being the cause of it for someone else. Last night was the most amazing and intense intimate experience I’ve ever had. I will treasure it forever. If possible, I would explore a relationship with you that would include sex like that every chance I could. But I don't want you guilt ridden OR feeling obligated to me by gratitude just because I healed you when it cost me nothing. That doesn't strike me as a good reason to build a relationship either … And why are you still hard with a conversation like this going on?”
Barton flushed red. “Morning wood.”
“Oh!” Una raised her body up, letting his morning erection slide out.
Damn! That felt good.
She resisted slamming him back inside her again. But already, she could feel the absence inside her as though she'd gone too long without food,
“Ok, go take care of that. We can continue this conversation after,” she sadi.
Barton stood and hurried to the bathroom, looking like a soldier carrying a flag in front of him. Una couldn't help smiling, but she turned her head away in case he looked.
She checked the table for any leftover food that might still be worth eating and found some persimmons that were still greenish, though starting to flush orange.
When Barton came out of the bathroom, he reached for his pants, but Una intercepted him with a hug. “I've got an idea,” she said. “Until you have time to work through this, we can consider last night a happy misunderstanding. In the meantime, we can get some breakfast somewhere and discuss how to find Alice.”
Barton nodded and hugged her back. “I really more than like you, Una. You are amazing.”
“Who knows what might happen?” Una said with her best human smile. “I more than like you too, Charles.”
Especially inside of me.
CHAPTER 10 – LOW BRANCH
While Barton showered in the crystal clear shower stall, Una used the spray extension in the jet tub to wash and rinse, letting her eyes run over his body a bit longer before she turned her attention to less frustrating subjects.
Finished, she dried off and stepped out of the tub
. “Happy with the tummy tuck, sailor?” she said, winking at him as she passed him on the way to her closet.
“Very much.”
Una hadn't paid much attention to the clothes when she'd been in the closet last night getting a robe.
Must’ve been distracted.
Now she flipped through the hangers. For a moment, she was tempted by the cape and bikini outfit; her Tiana memories assured her it was a mostly authentic rendition of nii formal wear. But instead, she went with black harem pants—tail exposed through the slit in back—and a shemagh tied over her breasts. The chest harness for her handguns and knives accessorized the ensemble nicely she thought.
The 1911 .45 caliber—imminently practical and never out of fashion.
She looked in the mirror and decided to add a matching shemagh for a turban. The nylon and Kevlar sandals fit her perfectly … of course.
“How do I look?” she said as Barton stepped out of the bathroom. “Not too girly, I hope.”
Barton laughed and shook his head. “Don't change a thing,” he said, stepping into his jeans.
Una took a last look at her favorite part of his body as he tucked himself in and zipped the fly.
Who’d have thought all that could fit in there.
She shook her head.
“Do I need to put the rifle in a locker somewhere before we go to breakfast?” she said.
“I'm not sure. Maybe you can call the switchboard and ask.”
Una walked to the phone and punched the zero button. The manager at the reception desk informed her that everyone in the embassy would leave her weapon strictly alone unless there were an emergency, but she recommended locking the ammunition in the room safe.
Una managed to fit all the rifle ammunition in the safe—along with most of the .45 ACP—but she decided to use a messenger bag she found hanging on a hook in the closet to keep the last box and the spare magazines with her as well as the rolls of gold coins. Luckily, the bag strap was sturdy.
“Ready?” said Barton when she came out of the closet.
Una nodded. “Do you live in the compound here too?”
“Yeah, security requirements.”
“Charles, I told you I would help you find Alice. Do you have anything that might still have her smell on it?”
He paused before nodding.
“Let's do that first then, if you don't mind,” she said.
“I don't mind. It's on the way to the dining room, anyhow. Your sense of smell is that good? It makes me feel like I should've washed more carefully.”
“Not at all. I like the way you smell.”
Barton laughed, opening the door. “Nobody's ever said that to me before.”
When they arrived at Barton’s room, she found that he shared it with another man … who practically jumped to attention when Una came in.”
“At ease, soldier,” she said. “You've obviously mistaken me for my sister.” She reached out to shake his hand. “I'm Una.”
“It's an honor to meet you, ma'am. I'm Marston. Steven Marston.”
“It's just Una, not ma'am. Unless you want me to call you Mister Marston.”
Marston grinned. “Steve is fine, Una.”
Una returned his smile and followed Barton to the closet. He took a shoebox down from a high shelf and handed it to Una. She opened it to see a hairbrush and a pair of hoop earrings. Without reaching in, she examined the hairbrush … four bleached blond hairs with brown roots. She held the box close and took a deep breath, holding it, then gave the box back to Barton. “Got it.”
Barton put the box back on the shelf. “Later, roomie,” he said to Marston, heading for the door.
“Nice meeting you, Steve,” Una said as she followed Barton out.
“A pleasure, Una.”
As she walked with Barton, side-by-side down the hall toward the sound of silverware clinking on china, Una considered Alice's smell. After separating the human part from the lotions, conditioners and creams, she didn't really have a reason to dislike it, but she decided she did anyway.
She’d especially disliked needing to separate Barton's smell from Alice's as they mingled together in the box, but she'd promised to help. Besides, she hardly knew Barton—except perhaps in the biblical vernacular. She realized she'd started to exude an arousal pheromone and tried to squelch it before Barton reacted … or anyone else for that matter.
When they walked in the door of the formal dining room, the hostess stepped up to greet them. “Welcome home, Riniana Una,” she said. “My name is Rosa. And good morning to you as well, Mr. Barton. We have a private dining room ready for your convenience, but you may sit wherever you like.”
“Thank you, Rosa. I would like to use the room today,” Una said. “Mister Barton and I are in the middle of a discussion, and we would enjoy a little privacy while we breakfast.”
“Very good. If you will, please follow me.” Rosa turned and led them through the room full of people who were obviously waiting for them to pass so they could stare at them without being noticed.
“Do you suppose they're together?” whispered an older woman on the far wall to her companion—an older gentleman who kept his mouth closed, perhaps because he knew more about nii hearing.
Una resisted the temptation to turn and wink at them.
Rosa led them through a set of sparkling, cut-glass French doors and into a smaller, more ornate, dining room that offered a choice of four tables. Each had been set for four people. At the door, Rosa and Barton waited for Una to take the lead. Una nodded toward a table by a sliding patio door. It opened onto a balcony overlooking a walled courtyard garden. Una slid into a chair that let her see outside through the Lexan/glass laminate window.
“I usually get breakfast takeout on my way to the hangar,” said Barton, his lip twisted in amusement.
Rosa placed menus in front of them. Una's was a simple printout. “Your server will be here to take your order in a few minutes. Also, Ms. Una, Mister Galt requests you stop by his office for a few minutes at your convenience any time this morning…. Enjoy your meal.”
Una poured herself a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the table and took a sip. “Tell me about Alice…. When and how you met. And the last you heard from her?”
Barton nodded. “I met Alice not long after I started working for XYMBI …”
“Zimbee?” said Una.
Of course ShwydH had known all about the private multinational corporation Tiana owned. After his capture, ShwydH had consulted for them on counter intelligence in their conflict with the Deep State, but Una wouldn't be expected to know anything. ShwydH’s familiarity with the organization’s history and personnel told her that it hadn't even been called XYMBI in the 1920s. Listening to Barton's explanation, Una could tell he knew almost nothing about the extent of their operations. He'd just flew helicopter missions for them.
“So you were dating for about three months before the pulse, but she didn't work for XYMBI in any capacity.”
“No, she was a consultant for a company in Northern Virginia.”
“How would you characterize your relationship?”
Barton paused, thinking. “Stressful. She had a lot of insecurity. We both did.”
Una nodded, ignoring her jump of excitement at Barton's detached analysis of a dysfunctional relationship.
“What was the biggest stressor?” she said.
“The confidentiality requirements for my work. I could never tell her what I did or where I was when I was on the job.”
“She didn't have the same problems as a consultant?”
“Not as much. For her, it wasn't as strict.”
“Where was she when the pulse put the lights out?”
“That's just it. I don't know. On the tenth of June, I hadn't seen or heard from her for days. She could have been anywhere in the world, but I have to think it was inside the states or she'd have reached me. My number never changed.”
Their waiter stopped by the table and took their ord
er. Una just told him her target nutrition goals for the morning and asked him to have the chef choose for her. She wasn't sure what her body's ultimate potential was, but she knew what HumanaH and Tiana were capable of, and there was a long way to go before she caught up to them. That meant she needed a lot of good nutrition, and now she wouldn't have Barton to count on for sex OR supplements. Which—for her—no longer came to the same thing.
She pushed down her frustration, but it wasn't moving. Appetizer dishes came out. Hers was a kelp and cheese dip with kelp wafers.
