Reunion
All content copyright Veritas, 2006. Any resemblance to other persons or situations, real or fictional, is purely coincidental. Those offended by anthropomorphic, heterosexual sex need not read on. Blah, blah, blah.
Shore Leave
Part I - Reunion
Jason Morgan pushed the door shut behind him, leaning against it with a sigh.
Class B seating on an interstellar ferry was about as comfortable as it could be without providing a bed(that, of course, was Class A). Still, it had been a seven-hour ride - and the half-hour by monorail after it had been standing room only, all capped off by another half-hour's walk.
But he was finally here.
Reminded, he let his rucksack slide off his shoulder and onto the tiled floor. "I'm here," he called.
He needn't have bothered. Before the sound of his voice had faded, she was there - a vision of ethereal grace, the white of her robe outdone by that of her shining pelt. Without a word, she glided across the tiles, brought one delicate hand to his shoulder and the other up behind his head, and tilted her muzzle down to meet with his own.
For all the lead-in had been gentle, the kiss was anything but. When it finally parted, the fox was panting for breath, his heart racing, blood singing in his ears.
"Come and rest, love," she whispered, and with one of those long-fingered hands sliding down to his rump, he wasn't sure she meant the first word literally.
Still awash in the sudden rush of energy her touch and her kiss had brought on, he grinned. It'd suit him just fine if she hadn't.
"Aurin," he breathed, letting the name tumble gently off his tongue, savouring it. "I wish I had more than these two weeks of leave."
Sulec Aurin di Floran touched her lips to his again, gently and briefly this time, but still enough to forestall further comment for a moment. Fingers stroked along the back of his left ear, barely stirring the short fur atop it, making it quiver as one reflex sought to avoid the contact, while another - the same one that sent a rush of blood and heat to his groin - craved it.
When her other hand deftly found that warmth, tracing where she knew the outline of his sheath to be under the black trousers of his dress uniform, lust won out. He arched into her touch with a moan.
"This way, my dear Captain," she breathed, her words caressing his whiskers as she coaxed him, without much resistance, away from the front door. "I've made things ready for you - though you made better time from the terminal than I dared hope for."
"Anticipation can be inspiring," he chuckled, moving with her toward what he knew to be the bedroom of her vacation house.
"Oh my, yes," she agreed as she pushed the door open for him. "I finished early enough that I considered meeting you at the terminal, but - " Her hand on his trousers gave a squeeze. "I doubt they would have appreciated us putting this on display."
Jason grunted, pushing his swelling sheath into her fingers as much as the fabric in the way would allow. "Senior officers should try to give the uniform some dignity, too," he mused.
Aurin let out a peal of laughter. "Oh, my dear Captain, when are you not dignified? Even when you are in me, there is some reserve in you that is... quite appealing."
Jason couldn't help but chuckle. He'd never seen it that way, but she was, he knew, vastly more experienced in matters of sex than was he.
Not, of course, that he minded expanding that experience on his part.
"Well, right now," he said, "I just want out of this uniform so I can stop being a Captain for a few weeks."
"By all means let us shed a few layers," she purred, tugging the belt of her robe so that the knot came undone, and letting the garment slide to the midnight-blue carpet.
Jason swallowed. She was, like all her kind, sleek; they might have been the word's very definition, for there was certainly none better to describe them. Smooth, slender, fluid, graceful - from head to toe, not least around the modest swell of her breasts, each line and curve flowed into the next. And no matter times he saw her this way, the very sight always made his head spin.
Since he wasn't in much of a condition to help, Aurin stepped in to loosen his collar, to unclasp the silver chain that encircled his neck and tucked into his left breast pocket, to slip it fully into that pocket, to free his red-bordered white sash from his right shoulder and lift it over his head, setting it aside with his many qualification ribbons. She moved her hands inward, unbuttoning his white-trimmed black tunic and loosening its belt, then sliding it off his shoulders and hanging it up with his decorations still attached to it; she untucked the white shirt underneath and lifted it over his head, tossing it aside to be laundered.
Then she paused, her agile fingers combing through his thick white pelt, claws scoring his skin and causing the muscles beneath, kept strong and firm by the exercise regimen of a shipboard officer, to tense and his whole body to quiver.
She crouched down, next, to unlace his boots and slip them off one by one, her breath washing over his belly as she did. Her mouth, he couldn't help but notice, was a bit lower than that; his pants were just in the way of feeling it there.
That, of course, was the next obstacle to be tackled. Those magical fingers loosened his belt, and opened his fly, making him moan with mingled relief and anticipation as a certain mounting pressure was eased. She undid the clasp over his tail, stroking the base of that fluffy appendage as she did so, then fully opened the chromed belt buckle with the star-and-crossed-swords insignia of the Star Lane Authority. She slid his pants off his hips, and the black shorts beneath - the only thing he wore that wasn't specified by uniform code - right along with them, exposing his sheath to the warm air.
Jason sighed, closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath as she finished stripping him down. The air was redolent with incense, tinged with his own thickening musk and a hint of hers, too. The only sounds were their breathing, the rustle of fur and cloth, and the faint hiss and sputter of candles - not even any electric light humming away.
And, presently, some moist slurping - and soft grunts on his part - as her tongue bathed his emerging tip.
Jason groaned and opened his eyes. The sight of her lapping at his length, pink tongue caressing jet-black flesh, was almost as stimulating as the actual contact, coaxing it into the open that much faster; yet the surroundings helped too. The rich dark shades around suggested opulence, yet allowed the eye to be drawn to the much lighter fur of the occupants; one whole wall was made of transparalloy, letting in a fine view of the lake with the image of both full moons reflected in the rippling water, and the vaulted skylight that was the whole ceiling gave a view of a vast, glittering starfield, far finer than one would see on a highly urbanised world. Then there were the candles, most standing on their own, with a few twinkling under oil-warmers, infusing the room with heavenly aromas and spreading their own slightly rippling light.
The first time he and Aurin had made love here, Jason had been intimidated by the openness. It was the ermine way, though, to make all their spaces have an ample view of the outside - and vice versa; if someone of hostile intent should enter, they wanted friendly marksmen to have a clear view of the goings-on.
Now, as Aurin lifted her muzzle from his arousal and stood up alongside him, that openness only served to excite him. As they eased themselves onto the expansive bed, he mentally dared any hypothetical watchers to go ahead and watch, to see what manner of woman a simple white fox, then an unassuming mess lieutenant in the Authority, had managed to attract, to see how thoroughly they enjoyed each other.
Their mouths met, each setting one hand behind the other's head to hold close in that passionate kiss. Her other hand wrapped around his arousal, stroking him; his, meanwhile, slid down her side to her waist, then inward, crossing over her belly and the mound of her sex, then, with that brief introduction, sliding down to seek out the heat between her thighs.
She shuddered against him as his fingers caressed her outer folds, moaned into his muzzle as they went back up; she clutched tight to him, both his neck and his shaft, when he stroked the thinner, furless folds between, culminating in a gasp when he touched the nub of her clit. He kept stroking, even as she moaned and trilled and undulated against him, until his fingers were matted and slick with her juices, and then he eased first one, then another into her, fondling her clit with his thumb.
She squeezed tight around his member, starting to stroke it swiftly, now, swiftly and, as ever, smoothly. Her muzzle dipped down, nipping at the side of his neck as his fingers slid in and out of her hot, slick tunnel, his thumb still rubbing over the hood of her clit.
Apparently she'd worked herself up into a frenzy before he arrived, because it couldn't have been a minute of this until she cried out, her hand clenching around his length and her sex around his fingers, her body writhing. It was not, all told, one of the most potent climaxes she'd had that he'd witnessed, but it was certainly enough to leave her panting, shivering, ears and cheeks flushed with pleasure.
"Jason," she whispered, lapping over his throat. "It is almost a pity that you would not be content with a career pleasuring me."
Jason chuckled. "Even though I don't sport an artillery-piece like males of your species do?" They chuckled; it was an old joke between them, though it had started as real anxiety. Compared to his own six-inch penis, ermine males often boasted twelve or more, and were thicker all along than he was at the knot when it swelled up.
On the other hand, that had given him, from an early age - from the time he'd been in basic training, really, and first seen males of other species naked on a regular basis in the shower - a strong motivator to use his well - and though he'd had some learning to do over the years, Aurin, since he'd met her, had never complained. Nor did she now as, with a liquid chuckle and a caress behind his balls, she guided him toward her, his tapered tip against her moist folds, and took him into her with scarcely any resistance at all.
A gasp swelled in his chest as his rod plunged into her, his breath exploding out of him in a hoarse grunt when their hips met. Thus interlocked, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her atop him as he rolled onto his back.
By some trick of the light, the skylight at night was almost as good as a mirror when looking straight up from the bed. They were a study in white, her slender form atop his shorter but bulkier one, now twisting together as she rose and fell atop him, and Jason, feeling more than a little dizzy with exhilaration, dug his toes into the sheets and rose up to meet her. Of themselves, all he could see that interrupted the white were his own eyes, and the black plume at the tip of his tail. Other than that, they coupled in a sea of blue much like the midnight sky itself - and through the reflection, the stars dimly twinkled.
She arched above him with a moan, hands splayed on his chest. Distracted from the heavenly vision, he curled in toward her, lapping for a moment at her collarbone, then nuzzling at her right breast, making her shiver as his cool nose-pad found her nipple beneath the fur. He warmed it with a few strokes of his tongue, then further with his lips, nursing at her breast as they rocked against one another.
Truly, she was in a fine mood today, for without even a bit of help from his fingers - at least around her sex, active though they were roaming her back and sides - she soon came again, and came hard, back arching as though electrified, a wail ripping from her throat, fingers digging into his chest as her tunnel squeezed tight around his thrusting cock. He forged on, shoving in and out even as she milked him so, but he'd anticipated this reunion just as much as she, and with less than ten seconds of being subject to that intense stimulation, he felt something give inside him, his knot filling out against her clutching sex. He threw his head back against the pillow and howled as his pleasure flooded him, his seed gushing into her.
As his surge of pleasure started to fade, the room whirled around him, his vision darkening. He tried to lift up a hand, to call her name, but his limbs felt leaden and his mouth as though it were suddenly stuffed with cotton. He slumped back against the bed as fatigue very abruptly claimed its due, and knew nothing more for some time.
When he came to, it was to the sound of movement around him, fabric swishing over the carpet. He was still feeling the last streamers of his pleasure - not a remembered feeling, but the haze and hormonal, full-body tingle of afterglow - so it couldn't have been all that long, but still he winced. He must've conked right out under her the moment the adrenaline rush of his climax had started to fade. Biting his lip, he took a glance around.
Something wasn't quite right; sunbeams streamed in through the skylight. What the hell?
Aurin saw his movement, leaning over with a smile to plant a kiss on his brow. "You," she declared, "were tired, my love."
Jason bit his lip. "How long was I out?"
A peal of laughter. "Nine hours. Here, sit. I've a drink ready." She moved to one side and poured; he heard the liquid sloshing into the cup, smelled a tangy aroma like cinnamon.
Nine hours. No wonder he was so stiff - and yet, he realised, so refreshed at the same time. He sat up with a sigh, raising both hands to accept the large stoneware mug she offered him.
Shaki, the ermine called it. Served hot or cold - though usually hot - it was both a mild stimulant and a muscle relaxant; in addition to that rare combination, it was much more palatable than the more potent stimulants often brewed by other races, which had let it spread quickly. These days, almost any world in the Empire would serve shaki - though more often than not, by accident or design, that in a restaurant would often be overbrewed, bringing out a bit more stimulant, but also a bitter edge to the taste that was usually avoided. Aurin, in addition to not overbrewing hers, sweetened it a fair bit; since Jason had first acquired the taste for shaki mixed with honey, that suited him just fine.
He took a long draw from the mug. "Nine hours. Damn it." He looked up. "But why do I feel like I just - ?"
She laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed and scratching behind his right ear. "I felt you had rested for an ample time, and sought to wake you in a pleasant manner. Apparently your fatigue and libido were evenly matched, for being aroused still did not rouse you, hm?"
He couldn't help but laugh as well. "Was it good?" he joked.
She didn't joke back. "Delicious," she breathed, licking her lips.
For that, he laughed and kissed her on the cheek. "Well, I suppose we agree on one thing."
"And that would be?"
He grinned. "I've slept away enough of my leave-time for now."
She answered him with a kiss, and set about exhausting him all over again.