23 June 2405
14.825337/106.495972/[2400]01:44:04.0/-15:56:15/3 Luculla
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23:09:34
When Katie returned I was pulling on my boots, tears splashing and soaking into the leather. I could barely see what I was doing, and it was only when I raised my head to drag my forearm across my eyes that I saw her.
She was standing in the doorway, a picture of expressionless incomprehension. The purity of her beauty was like a knife, and I sobbed wretchedly. I could not bear to keep looking at her, so I swiped at my eyes again with the other arm and returned to tugging frantically at my bootlaces. I had to get away.
It was crushingly impossible: I just couldn't see them. When I felt Katie’s fingers find my shoulder I cried out in panic and shied away so violently that I overbalanced onto my knees.
I was on a cliff edge; and a part of me wanted to leap, spread my arms and accept my fate. But I was not yet fully transformed. Of the wildly opposing feelings I had at Katie’s secret--the colony’s secret--revulsion was still the stronger. I felt that I had to hold myself together long enough to get out of the colony, away from its alien walls and ways, away from my own reckless assimilation into it.
I twisted to sit on the floor and reach again for my boots, and when Katie’s shadow loomed I screamed at her, ‘No!’
She backed off; and then I was falling through space.
Her retreat had cut me more deeply than her affection. My anger and jealousy boiled over; but in them was the seed of my acceptance.
‘You’re a whore!’ I shouted, and sobbed. I knew I could not hurt her with words; I was only hurting myself. But I wanted to hurt, to burn. ‘You’re all fucking whores!’
Unexpectedly, my voice dropped to a ragged whisper. Perhaps in desperate self-protection, the scientist in me was suddenly front and centre. ‘You’re not communicating,’ I spat. ‘You’re fucking. Day in, day out, you’re fucking each other.’ I finally looked at Katie properly, though her outline was blurred with tears, and my voice cracked with the accusation: ‘You don’t give a fuck about me.’
I was sitting on the floor, my legs crossed at the ankles, rocking slightly back and forth. ‘I know where you go now, when you disappear. I can’t give you what you want. So you go to, go to...’
I couldn't say it; I didn't even know the words. Of all the creatures in the colony, even the six-limbed workers, I had just been encountered the strangest.
Katie had not gone far, when I had followed her discretely only an hour before, until she turned aside. Like so many of the doors in the colony, the portal she selected was one I had taken to be a wall; albeit with a complex overlapping pattern like the petals of an alabaster flower, converging and reducing like a fractal into a vertical indentation. These structures were found everywhere in the colony, and I had assumed them to be a decoration.
I had never seen one open before. Katie simply pressed forward and it seemed to accept her effortlessly, the petals stretching and following her body organically. I was left alone in the corridor, standing, staring; wondering if I dared to follow.
But if I did not follow I would discover nothing. I waited a few breathless seconds, hoping to give her enough distance not to notice me behind her, and yet not long enough to lose me. And then I moved forward.
I was arching my back slightly in apprehension but the portal accepted me lightly, feeling like no more than clinging, silky air. My pulse jumped when it closed over my face but the feeling of suffocation was short-lived.
I was through, and stepping nervously into a small, dark chamber. Like so much of the colony its floor, walls and furniture seemed to merge together; although by now I was beginning to find this unremarkable. I was even getting better at discerning the functions of the various curves and textures, so that I could fairly reliably know where to sit, where to walk, and where to lie, as I explored the colony with Katie.
The light in this room was dim and orange, and a faint musky scent hung in the air: not disagreeable, but raw and earthy. The soft sounds of breathing, of skin on skin, of wetness: these were now so typical of the colony that I barely noticed them; but I could not see the protagonists.
I prowled forward warily, consciously hardening my heart in case Katie were greeting a fellow colonist, knowing how her apparent affections normally made my stomach constrict with jealousy. At the far side of the room the floor lifted to meet the wall, and there, angled downward, was a simple round portal, about a metre across. I dropped to my knees to approach it and peer through.
I don’t know how long I crouched there, staring. Emotions stampeded through me unchecked, but I was unable to tear myself away. Even when Katie reached her first orgasm of many, my only consciousness was a strange detached awareness of the wetness between my own legs. My world was a sloshing sea of nausea, of arousal, of disgust, of longing.
Now, back in my room, I was looking at Katie but seeing the creature; and though my sobs still lifted my shoulders irregularly, I could feel an echo of that heady mixture tugging at my heart and at my loins. My words seemed to have trailed away completely during my reminiscence; and so had my fury--if it had ever really existed, except as a reflection of the turmoil in my own mind.
With simple clarity, I saw the choice before me. Retreat, or surrender. I stood, sniffed, wiped at my face with my wrist and arm.
Katie was looking at me, all wide hazel eyes and freckles.
I don’t know how it happened so fast, but the decision was made; and the old Judith was forgotten. Though I made no sign Katie responded instantly. She stood, stepped lightly forward, cupped my chin in both hands, and kissed me.
This time, for the first time, there was no boundary. No science, no culture, no doubts. When our tongues touched, tip to tip, the spark leaped and struck. I did not question whether she was just saying hello, and her heat filled me to overflowing. My arms hung limp at my sides as our lips intertwined, and when her tongue reached forward again I accepted it with my own.
Now her hands wove under my forearms, over my hips, and pressed gently onto my lower back. I felt every touch as if it were the only touch: her fingers, individually; a warmth below my navel; the softest impress of her breasts on mine; her nose brushing my cheek; her lips; her tongue.
It was an eternity that we stood there, kissing; and I wanted it to be eternity. I was lost in her, in the simple purity of her body. What else was there? I could not claim to know her, though I claimed to love her. We had never spoken; she had never smiled. Our love was purely of the flesh, and for that eternal kiss, that was all I needed.
Somehow, I was undressed. We lay together, face to face, sometimes kissing, sometimes just holding each other’s eyes, breathing each other’s breath; but also exploring with our fingertips, our arms finding their way around each other like the brushing of branches in the wind.
I still felt some residual shame at my own body, but the feel of Katie’s was totally overwhelming now that I was touching it with love, and not with the pretence of science. I was deeply aware that I had no idea how to pleasure this woman--any woman--but that feeling too was impotent in the face of Katie’s empathy.
She was not copying me; but she seemed to absorb me, and reflect me. Wherever my fingers touched, she would lean imperceptibly towards me, encouraging. If they trailed over muscle, it would ripple to greet them, sometimes rise with passing firmness as she shifted position. When they found softer flesh, on her abdomen, behind her hip: her breath would catch, so slightly, so tellingly. And all the time her own fingers were inviting feelings I had never experienced:
When they glided I would shiver. Where they pressed, heat would grow. And when they caressed, pulling at me gently, I felt her acceptance and her love; and I let myself move closer.
As our bodies closed together, our legs intertwining, our breasts finding warmth, infinity seemed to draw inward as a new urgency grew. We had stopped kissing. My nose was against the side of her’s, our eyes locked, unblinking. My hand rested uncertainly on her hip: her’s was on my lowest rib. My breath rose; paused; fell with a tremulous query.
She answered. Her hand slid around me, her shoulder tensed to pull us together; her leg rose towards my forearm, tucked under it. She pushed further, and now she too moaned softly.
I was on my back. My eyes were closed. She was kissing me. I was falling, falling into her.
The first orgasm that Katie gave me was a silent release, like a butterfly taking to the air.
The physical sensations: the throb in my vagina, the spreading rush: these were stronger than anything I had felt before; but they were just the earth beneath me as I rose on silken wings.
Her hand cupped me, lifting me higher, firmly guiding my flight. I felt the warmth of her body slowly press onto me; and we were together in the blue sky.
I talked to her. I don’t know what I said. I remember only her eyes, as they watched me. Perhaps I was stalling: because I wanted to show her my love, but I could not. How could I match the creature, the sex drone that had made her cry out with total abandon, time after time, only an hour before? What could I, the straight, frigid scientist, possibly give her that her other lover could not?
The question was ridiculous, and I knew it. She was here, with me. She had just granted me the most wondrous experience of my life. Any obligations or expectations existed only in my head. But they existed nonetheless; and so I stalled, and my arousal faltered; maybe I cried a little.
Of course she let me go through this with angelic forbearance; and when she lifted her head to kiss me again it was not with impatience but gentle affection. Once again I was sure of her pure and simple happiness, of the laughter in her heart, without any visible sign from her.
With that kiss she drew me from my reverie as surely as an eagle plucking a fish from a lake. She had lifted herself again, one hand beside my head, the other on my cheek; her back was arched above me. On impulse, I cupped both of her softly pointed, freckled breasts in my hands; and my desire returned, redoubled.
One of my knees had come up behind her. Her hand found it, gently guided it closer, more to the middle; and then she was pressing back, lifting her bottom to rub her lips against my thigh. Her hand returned to grip one of mine on her breast. The sudden eroticism was overwhelming, and I gasped to recognise that her vulva was leaving wetness on my skin as it pushed back and forth. It was as though she had kept her own arousal fully alive, just waiting for the moment to release it again.
She was masturbating, with my body. The realisation was like a torch to the dry tinder of my doubts. I watched in awe and joy as she worked herself higher, her eyes narrowing with each convulsive movement of her hips. My pelvis was beginning to ache keeping my leg in position, merging with the heat returning to my loins; the flesh of her breasts was pushing around my fingers, her nipples hard against my palms. I was determined to hold the position for as long as she needed, desperately excited that she might climax just from rubbing against me.
Her torso was getting lower; her face was pressing against my shoulder; my wrists were contorted until my hands could no longer cup her breasts but held her sides instead. The contact between her vulva and my leg lightened before the strain of my hips became painful, but the hand that had been supporting her was now between her legs, and I could feel its almost frantic motion.
She was pushing against me furiously, her breath coming in gasps. I watched her auburn hair dance above her shoulder on my chest, held her; felt a desperate love. In that moment, strangely, the image of the sex drone returned to me; but its power to dismay was broken. I wondered what more surprises this colony, this hive, would bring. But for the first time I felt ready for them.
And when Katie’s throes suddenly became irregular, and she cried out once, sobbed a breath, and cried out again, I held her with a strength and confidence that I had never felt before.
Perhaps one day I will seek out the drone again: find out if there are more of them, if there is one behind every flower-door; if the other members of the colony also go to them to find sexual release in this place where sex is everywhere.
But research can wait. Katie did not leave me again today. We made love so many times, in so many ways, perhaps she did not need to. I have an awful lot to learn; several times I collapsed in laughter at my own fumblings (and Katie’s silent bemusement only made it funnier). But perhaps I can satiate her. I cannot imagine anything but to try.
She was standing in the doorway, a picture of expressionless incomprehension. The purity of her beauty was like a knife, and I sobbed wretchedly. I could not bear to keep looking at her, so I swiped at my eyes again with the other arm and returned to tugging frantically at my bootlaces. I had to get away.
It was crushingly impossible: I just couldn't see them. When I felt Katie’s fingers find my shoulder I cried out in panic and shied away so violently that I overbalanced onto my knees.
I was on a cliff edge; and a part of me wanted to leap, spread my arms and accept my fate. But I was not yet fully transformed. Of the wildly opposing feelings I had at Katie’s secret--the colony’s secret--revulsion was still the stronger. I felt that I had to hold myself together long enough to get out of the colony, away from its alien walls and ways, away from my own reckless assimilation into it.
I twisted to sit on the floor and reach again for my boots, and when Katie’s shadow loomed I screamed at her, ‘No!’
She backed off; and then I was falling through space.
Her retreat had cut me more deeply than her affection. My anger and jealousy boiled over; but in them was the seed of my acceptance.
‘You’re a whore!’ I shouted, and sobbed. I knew I could not hurt her with words; I was only hurting myself. But I wanted to hurt, to burn. ‘You’re all fucking whores!’
Unexpectedly, my voice dropped to a ragged whisper. Perhaps in desperate self-protection, the scientist in me was suddenly front and centre. ‘You’re not communicating,’ I spat. ‘You’re fucking. Day in, day out, you’re fucking each other.’ I finally looked at Katie properly, though her outline was blurred with tears, and my voice cracked with the accusation: ‘You don’t give a fuck about me.’
I was sitting on the floor, my legs crossed at the ankles, rocking slightly back and forth. ‘I know where you go now, when you disappear. I can’t give you what you want. So you go to, go to...’
I couldn't say it; I didn't even know the words. Of all the creatures in the colony, even the six-limbed workers, I had just been encountered the strangest.
Katie had not gone far, when I had followed her discretely only an hour before, until she turned aside. Like so many of the doors in the colony, the portal she selected was one I had taken to be a wall; albeit with a complex overlapping pattern like the petals of an alabaster flower, converging and reducing like a fractal into a vertical indentation. These structures were found everywhere in the colony, and I had assumed them to be a decoration.
I had never seen one open before. Katie simply pressed forward and it seemed to accept her effortlessly, the petals stretching and following her body organically. I was left alone in the corridor, standing, staring; wondering if I dared to follow.
But if I did not follow I would discover nothing. I waited a few breathless seconds, hoping to give her enough distance not to notice me behind her, and yet not long enough to lose me. And then I moved forward.
I was arching my back slightly in apprehension but the portal accepted me lightly, feeling like no more than clinging, silky air. My pulse jumped when it closed over my face but the feeling of suffocation was short-lived.
I was through, and stepping nervously into a small, dark chamber. Like so much of the colony its floor, walls and furniture seemed to merge together; although by now I was beginning to find this unremarkable. I was even getting better at discerning the functions of the various curves and textures, so that I could fairly reliably know where to sit, where to walk, and where to lie, as I explored the colony with Katie.
The light in this room was dim and orange, and a faint musky scent hung in the air: not disagreeable, but raw and earthy. The soft sounds of breathing, of skin on skin, of wetness: these were now so typical of the colony that I barely noticed them; but I could not see the protagonists.
I prowled forward warily, consciously hardening my heart in case Katie were greeting a fellow colonist, knowing how her apparent affections normally made my stomach constrict with jealousy. At the far side of the room the floor lifted to meet the wall, and there, angled downward, was a simple round portal, about a metre across. I dropped to my knees to approach it and peer through.
I don’t know how long I crouched there, staring. Emotions stampeded through me unchecked, but I was unable to tear myself away. Even when Katie reached her first orgasm of many, my only consciousness was a strange detached awareness of the wetness between my own legs. My world was a sloshing sea of nausea, of arousal, of disgust, of longing.
Now, back in my room, I was looking at Katie but seeing the creature; and though my sobs still lifted my shoulders irregularly, I could feel an echo of that heady mixture tugging at my heart and at my loins. My words seemed to have trailed away completely during my reminiscence; and so had my fury--if it had ever really existed, except as a reflection of the turmoil in my own mind.
With simple clarity, I saw the choice before me. Retreat, or surrender. I stood, sniffed, wiped at my face with my wrist and arm.
Katie was looking at me, all wide hazel eyes and freckles.
I don’t know how it happened so fast, but the decision was made; and the old Judith was forgotten. Though I made no sign Katie responded instantly. She stood, stepped lightly forward, cupped my chin in both hands, and kissed me.
*
This time, for the first time, there was no boundary. No science, no culture, no doubts. When our tongues touched, tip to tip, the spark leaped and struck. I did not question whether she was just saying hello, and her heat filled me to overflowing. My arms hung limp at my sides as our lips intertwined, and when her tongue reached forward again I accepted it with my own.
Now her hands wove under my forearms, over my hips, and pressed gently onto my lower back. I felt every touch as if it were the only touch: her fingers, individually; a warmth below my navel; the softest impress of her breasts on mine; her nose brushing my cheek; her lips; her tongue.
It was an eternity that we stood there, kissing; and I wanted it to be eternity. I was lost in her, in the simple purity of her body. What else was there? I could not claim to know her, though I claimed to love her. We had never spoken; she had never smiled. Our love was purely of the flesh, and for that eternal kiss, that was all I needed.
*
Somehow, I was undressed. We lay together, face to face, sometimes kissing, sometimes just holding each other’s eyes, breathing each other’s breath; but also exploring with our fingertips, our arms finding their way around each other like the brushing of branches in the wind.
I still felt some residual shame at my own body, but the feel of Katie’s was totally overwhelming now that I was touching it with love, and not with the pretence of science. I was deeply aware that I had no idea how to pleasure this woman--any woman--but that feeling too was impotent in the face of Katie’s empathy.
She was not copying me; but she seemed to absorb me, and reflect me. Wherever my fingers touched, she would lean imperceptibly towards me, encouraging. If they trailed over muscle, it would ripple to greet them, sometimes rise with passing firmness as she shifted position. When they found softer flesh, on her abdomen, behind her hip: her breath would catch, so slightly, so tellingly. And all the time her own fingers were inviting feelings I had never experienced:
When they glided I would shiver. Where they pressed, heat would grow. And when they caressed, pulling at me gently, I felt her acceptance and her love; and I let myself move closer.
As our bodies closed together, our legs intertwining, our breasts finding warmth, infinity seemed to draw inward as a new urgency grew. We had stopped kissing. My nose was against the side of her’s, our eyes locked, unblinking. My hand rested uncertainly on her hip: her’s was on my lowest rib. My breath rose; paused; fell with a tremulous query.
She answered. Her hand slid around me, her shoulder tensed to pull us together; her leg rose towards my forearm, tucked under it. She pushed further, and now she too moaned softly.
I was on my back. My eyes were closed. She was kissing me. I was falling, falling into her.
*
The first orgasm that Katie gave me was a silent release, like a butterfly taking to the air.
The physical sensations: the throb in my vagina, the spreading rush: these were stronger than anything I had felt before; but they were just the earth beneath me as I rose on silken wings.
Her hand cupped me, lifting me higher, firmly guiding my flight. I felt the warmth of her body slowly press onto me; and we were together in the blue sky.
*
I talked to her. I don’t know what I said. I remember only her eyes, as they watched me. Perhaps I was stalling: because I wanted to show her my love, but I could not. How could I match the creature, the sex drone that had made her cry out with total abandon, time after time, only an hour before? What could I, the straight, frigid scientist, possibly give her that her other lover could not?
The question was ridiculous, and I knew it. She was here, with me. She had just granted me the most wondrous experience of my life. Any obligations or expectations existed only in my head. But they existed nonetheless; and so I stalled, and my arousal faltered; maybe I cried a little.
Of course she let me go through this with angelic forbearance; and when she lifted her head to kiss me again it was not with impatience but gentle affection. Once again I was sure of her pure and simple happiness, of the laughter in her heart, without any visible sign from her.
With that kiss she drew me from my reverie as surely as an eagle plucking a fish from a lake. She had lifted herself again, one hand beside my head, the other on my cheek; her back was arched above me. On impulse, I cupped both of her softly pointed, freckled breasts in my hands; and my desire returned, redoubled.
One of my knees had come up behind her. Her hand found it, gently guided it closer, more to the middle; and then she was pressing back, lifting her bottom to rub her lips against my thigh. Her hand returned to grip one of mine on her breast. The sudden eroticism was overwhelming, and I gasped to recognise that her vulva was leaving wetness on my skin as it pushed back and forth. It was as though she had kept her own arousal fully alive, just waiting for the moment to release it again.
She was masturbating, with my body. The realisation was like a torch to the dry tinder of my doubts. I watched in awe and joy as she worked herself higher, her eyes narrowing with each convulsive movement of her hips. My pelvis was beginning to ache keeping my leg in position, merging with the heat returning to my loins; the flesh of her breasts was pushing around my fingers, her nipples hard against my palms. I was determined to hold the position for as long as she needed, desperately excited that she might climax just from rubbing against me.
Her torso was getting lower; her face was pressing against my shoulder; my wrists were contorted until my hands could no longer cup her breasts but held her sides instead. The contact between her vulva and my leg lightened before the strain of my hips became painful, but the hand that had been supporting her was now between her legs, and I could feel its almost frantic motion.
She was pushing against me furiously, her breath coming in gasps. I watched her auburn hair dance above her shoulder on my chest, held her; felt a desperate love. In that moment, strangely, the image of the sex drone returned to me; but its power to dismay was broken. I wondered what more surprises this colony, this hive, would bring. But for the first time I felt ready for them.
And when Katie’s throes suddenly became irregular, and she cried out once, sobbed a breath, and cried out again, I held her with a strength and confidence that I had never felt before.
*
Perhaps one day I will seek out the drone again: find out if there are more of them, if there is one behind every flower-door; if the other members of the colony also go to them to find sexual release in this place where sex is everywhere.
But research can wait. Katie did not leave me again today. We made love so many times, in so many ways, perhaps she did not need to. I have an awful lot to learn; several times I collapsed in laughter at my own fumblings (and Katie’s silent bemusement only made it funnier). But perhaps I can satiate her. I cannot imagine anything but to try.
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