her knees. Science considered female genitalia inchoate and hypothesized nature hadn’t completed its work, but as he examined her vulva, the velvety folds—the inner ones locked to sanctify her channel—and her semi-hooded pink nub of a clitoris, Dak wondered if scientific theory wasn’t nonsense. He stroked an outer fold and tugged on the ring to distend her inner labia. Unbidden, a rumble erupted from deep in his chest. His manhood, hard as stone, ached. He retracted the fleshy hood to fully expose Omra’s clitoris. Was it his imagination, or had it swelled? He glanced at her face. A flush tinted her cheeks, and her eyes had dilated. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, which had increased in tenor. His respiration had quickened too. Did Terran men really lick and suck a female’s genitals?
The idea did not disgust him as much as it should have. Only betas performed fellatio—and on other men only. Alphas did not serve their sexual partners in such a submissive way. And no one on Parseon would perform cunnilingus on a female.
He withdrew a cutting tool from his pocket along with his ring. Telenium was the strongest of the elements, and he had to bear down on the tool to cut through the metal. Finally it snapped. Her body was producing copious moisture, and the metal was slippery. “Here. You may have this.” He handed it to her.
She widened her eyes and closed her fingers around it.
With the ring off, he spread open her sex to examine her. Curiosity almost equaled his lust. He derived his sparse knowledge of female anatomy and physiology from a single Parseon text and some encounters with Terran pornography he’d been subjected to when feted by Terra’s ambassador to Parseon. He discounted most of the latter. One could not extrapolate how a Parseon breeder would react based on the behavior of a dubious entertainer performing for remuneration.
Omra’s sex glistened, wetter and pinker than any Terran woman’s he’d seen. He did not doubt Omra’s purity, but he dipped a finger into her channel until he encountered her hymen. Intact. His manhood throbbed. Like a motherfucker, as a Terran would say. He adjusted himself in his pants, then ran his finger the length of her slickened slit to her clitoris, which had gotten larger. Engorged, it stuck out from beneath the hood. When he pinched it, Omra jerked and emitted a little moan. Painful. As he had suspected. He let go.
Alphas did not take their pleasure from mating with females. Impregnation was a perfunctory function for perpetuation of the species and one’s lineage. He should perform his duty and then maintain his distance.
He eyed the nipple property tag. None of his possessions distracted him as much as this breeder. He cursed silently as he surrendered to impulse to cup and squeeze a breast, to stroke his thumb over the tip. Take it in your mouth. Suck it . He glanced at her moist sex, the labia gaping open, her clitoris swollen. Suck it. Taste her . Only the lowest of the low would even contemplate such an act. Stop looking at her . But he could not. He’d never been with a female. Was it normal for a breeder to become so wet?
For certain it was abnormal to become aroused by it. To stain the front of his pants with his desire.
Perhaps the best way to sever the preoccupation would be to eliminate the cause. Complete the unfinished business. Impregnate Omra. Produce three or four male offspring and send her back to the BCF.
Get it over with. Do it now.
His breathing rasped as he released his erection from his uniform. It sprang out, the shaft rigid, the head purple and weepy.
Omra stiffened; her pupils dilated with fear. He wished he could soothe her worries, but he refused to lie. What would be painless for him would be excruciating for her. Grasping her hips, he rolled her onto her stomach and hauled her onto her hands and knees. He guided the knob of his tumescence to her entrance.
I am sorry . He thrust through the membrane and
The idea did not disgust him as much as it should have. Only betas performed fellatio—and on other men only. Alphas did not serve their sexual partners in such a submissive way. And no one on Parseon would perform cunnilingus on a female.
He withdrew a cutting tool from his pocket along with his ring. Telenium was the strongest of the elements, and he had to bear down on the tool to cut through the metal. Finally it snapped. Her body was producing copious moisture, and the metal was slippery. “Here. You may have this.” He handed it to her.
She widened her eyes and closed her fingers around it.
With the ring off, he spread open her sex to examine her. Curiosity almost equaled his lust. He derived his sparse knowledge of female anatomy and physiology from a single Parseon text and some encounters with Terran pornography he’d been subjected to when feted by Terra’s ambassador to Parseon. He discounted most of the latter. One could not extrapolate how a Parseon breeder would react based on the behavior of a dubious entertainer performing for remuneration.
Omra’s sex glistened, wetter and pinker than any Terran woman’s he’d seen. He did not doubt Omra’s purity, but he dipped a finger into her channel until he encountered her hymen. Intact. His manhood throbbed. Like a motherfucker, as a Terran would say. He adjusted himself in his pants, then ran his finger the length of her slickened slit to her clitoris, which had gotten larger. Engorged, it stuck out from beneath the hood. When he pinched it, Omra jerked and emitted a little moan. Painful. As he had suspected. He let go.
Alphas did not take their pleasure from mating with females. Impregnation was a perfunctory function for perpetuation of the species and one’s lineage. He should perform his duty and then maintain his distance.
He eyed the nipple property tag. None of his possessions distracted him as much as this breeder. He cursed silently as he surrendered to impulse to cup and squeeze a breast, to stroke his thumb over the tip. Take it in your mouth. Suck it . He glanced at her moist sex, the labia gaping open, her clitoris swollen. Suck it. Taste her . Only the lowest of the low would even contemplate such an act. Stop looking at her . But he could not. He’d never been with a female. Was it normal for a breeder to become so wet?
For certain it was abnormal to become aroused by it. To stain the front of his pants with his desire.
Perhaps the best way to sever the preoccupation would be to eliminate the cause. Complete the unfinished business. Impregnate Omra. Produce three or four male offspring and send her back to the BCF.
Get it over with. Do it now.
His breathing rasped as he released his erection from his uniform. It sprang out, the shaft rigid, the head purple and weepy.
Omra stiffened; her pupils dilated with fear. He wished he could soothe her worries, but he refused to lie. What would be painless for him would be excruciating for her. Grasping her hips, he rolled her onto her stomach and hauled her onto her hands and knees. He guided the knob of his tumescence to her entrance.
I am sorry . He thrust through the membrane and
Similar Books
