Atlantea Ch. 15

DAY 2: 15TH SMITH 11,293PL

KUMAIYA ISLAND

"This is gonna be interesting," I said to Jacintha, in Atlantean. Her eyes briefly widened in surprise. I had not specifically intended to speak in her native tongue; it came out automatically, before I made a conscious choice one way or the other.

We were standing in the foyer of my apartment. The front door had turned translucent, from the interior perspective, seconds before, just as the doorbell rang.

"Why's that?" asked Jacintha; she was casually topless, and, as a result, my eyes kept drifting down to her dark chocolate boobs. "Also: eyes!"

"Sorry!" I said, raising my head. "To answer your question, last time Khrystyna and Xyra were near each other they sure didn't seem friendly."

The tall Valkyrie was standing impatiently outside; we could see her through the one-way view that the door presented.

"Gotcha; I'll try'n distract her," Jacintha offered helpfully.

Luck was not on our side, however. Just as I hit the orange button that would let Xyra in, we heard a door behind us open. Khrystyna emerged from the bathroom, followed by a cloud of steam. When she and Xyra saw each other, I noticed Jacintha's eyes go wide again. Tension materialized, almost tangibly, as the two incompatible females faced off with each other. Khrystyna launched the first salvo by making a gesture, with both hands, describing a round shape in front of her navel.

Although I did not understand every word of the conversation between the two women, I was later able to piece together what they said. Even in the moment, the their meanings were evident. "Your boyfriend just knocked me up," the flight attendant bragged.

Xyra mimicked the gesture in front of her own stomach, and responded, hotly, "I too teem, by his seed! Forsooth, afore thee, wench!"

"Real mature, ladies!" Jacintha quipped.

Khrystyna did not deign to respond to Xyra's archaic insult. She walked up to me, hips swaying, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and squeezed my butt. Then she made for the door. As she passed the Valkyrie, she tossed her head to one side. The effect was not as effective as it would have been, had her hair been longer. Xyra made a rapid blowing sound, similar to how French people express disinterest in something. Jacintha's hand was flapping subtly by her side; she was barely able to contain her laughter.

"I trust not that wench!" Xyra said, once Khrystyna was out the door. She was radiating irritation in a way that was both obvious and inscrutable; in my experience, at least, only women can pull this off. Much to my surprise, her sour mood did not bother me. Instead, I shared Jacintha's amusement. In fact, I found the bad mood both familiar and oddly pleasant, like a favorite blanket, and felt a tension, which I had not realized I had been feeling all day, suddenly dissipate.

'Shit, was I missing Xyra?' I thought.

"Is your mouth dry?" Jacintha asked her, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I am quite parched," Xyra said reflexively. The two women breastfed each other for the next few minutes. I did note that, while both made generic compliments about the quality of each other's milk, Jacintha only drank from Xyra for the minimum of sixty seconds. And, while it might have been my imagination, she seemed to be stifling a grimace. Although I loved Xyra's milk anyway, it was easily the most bitter and watery of any woman I'd fed with.

Xyra's normally strong body odor was partially masked by another scent. "Nice perfume, by the way," Jacintha said, right as my brain caught up with the situation. Xyra just grunted in response, feigning nonchalance. I could not be certain, but it seemed like her cheeks had taken on a barely perceptible blush. I was still debating whether or not to ask her to take a shower, when the decision was made for me. The grumpy warrior walked up, pulled out a new tube of xhash, squeezed out a line onto her finger, and shoved it into my mouth. To be fair, I was hardly an unwilling recipient of the sex drug. Next, she slid her hands over my shoulders and I had a sense of deja vu as my bathrobe slipped to the floor. Jacintha looked on, one eyebrow cocked, as Xyra firmly grabbed my penis and began dragging me to the bedroom. She pushed me roughly onto the bed, pushed my legs up, grabbed my ankles, and angled her wet vagina onto my rock-hard dick.

'So she rocks it Amazon-style when she's pissed off?' I mused.

"Do you mind if I take the top?" asked Jacintha, who had followed behind me.

"Provided thou dost not wish to share in my squire's lance, I care not what thou doest with thine quim," Xyra said. It was easily the most words I had ever heard her string together.

"You've got a real tiger for a lover here," Jacintha quipped.

Xyra responded with another dismissive, rapid exhalation of air, and then said, "Pah! I am no mere tiger!" These retorts were made without breaking the stride of her relentless fucking. As Jacintha sat her curvy bottom down on top of my chest, and spread her legs, I reflected that perhaps it was not so strange I'd been missing Xyra all day. Her fucking, although brutal and relentless, was sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. And, although I could not see her at present -- all I could see was Jacintha's midsection -- she was stunningly beautiful, with her porcelain features, heavy bosom, narrow waist and luxurious black hair.

Soon my tongue was buried in Jacintha's pussy, lapping at her cervix. I stuck my thumb in her ass and pushed towards her vagina, and within minutes she was cumming and peeing all over me. I shot my load inside of Xyra, who was in the middle of one of her own, barely palpable climaxes. She slammed her hips forward and held them there, and her grip on my ankles tightened, as she waited impatiently for my dick to get hard again. The xhash worked its magic, and a minute later she was able to resume her furious gyrations.

After several mutual orgasms, Jacintha scooted backwards.

"Aww," I whined.

"Before you complain, my tits are getting full again," she explained.

"Oh," I said, mollified.

Jacintha moved her ass as far back as she could, wedging into the interior angle formed as a result of Xyra's holding my legs in front of her. My CL then leaned forward, bringing an areaola to my mouth. "Mmm," she said as milk began to flow, and the powerful let-down she always experienced took hold. She reached between her legs began to hump two of her fingers, in time with the rhythm Xyra was setting. Jacintha could feel each thrust, as the force of the thrusts was transferred through my upper thighs to her ass. "I feel like I'm being fucked too," she murmured. The oxytocin flooding her body was making her especially drowsy, compounding the fatigue she was feeling from non-stop sex and multiple orgasms. "Does she ever cum?" Jacintha asked me, slurring her words slightly.

"Xyra? All th' time, it's jus' subtle."

"How can you tell?"

"Her... pussy squeezes a lil' bit," I said, between pants, "Tha'd be hard fer ya t' reckon, I 'magine. An' th' area 'round her eyes gets all tight-like. She cums more'n you, y'know!"

"Have a care, I remain in your presence," Xyra said to Jacintha, between thrusts. She was presently slamming her ass onto my dick, taking the full length of it each time, her vagina being filled too full with sperm at present. "Thou couldst query me directly."

"Sorry! You just seemed kind of... busy back there." Jacintha explained. Xyra barked out a laugh in response.

With her boob still in my mouth, Jacintha's head gradually began to droop. She grabbed a pillow and wedged it above my head, then rested her forehead there. Soon her hands, which had woven through my hair, loosened their grip, and I heard the soft sounds of snoring. By the time I finished feeding with Jacintha, the bed was a royal mess. My CL had gotten herself off several times during the first minutes of nursing, and, as a result, my stomach was soaked with fluids from her pussy. Xyra, meanwhile, had an lake of cum at her feet. I couldn't see the Valkyrie's face, but she seemed in no mood to stop. She had just switched back to fucking me with her pussy.

Jacintha stirred briefly when I detached from her flaccid breast. She curled her torso back into a more comfortable position, with her boobs pressed into my chest, laid her head in the crook of my neck, and began to give me a hickey. After sucking long enough to leave a mark, she fell back asleep. Although my legs were burning, having been held in roughly the same position for nearly forty minutes, I would not have interrupted our three-way lovemaking for anything in the world, at that moment, unless it meant seeing Calista again. Jacintha's skin was like a warm, pleasantly moist blanket, and Xyra's vagina and ass were coaxing endless climaxes from my cock. Between the odd blood flow created by the fixed position of my lower body, and the intense pleasure that kept flowing over me, I became light-headed. The room began to spin, and I lost track of time.

* * *

"Let's hop in the shower," Jacintha suggested, and soon enough, all three of us had disentangled our sweaty pile of bodies, and were standing in the oversize enclosure, in the bathroom. Xyra had, at last, exhausted herself some time earlier.

Without being asked, I began to wash her body, as had become our custom.

"How much sperm do you have up in there?" Jacintha marveled. Cum was still leaking out from Xyra's holes, even after I had made my way up to her vagina, having just washed her upper thighs.

"My quim runneth over," Xyra responded.

'Is she making a joke?' I wondered, to myself. Her face betrayed no emotion.

"Honey, it ain't just your 'quim,'" Jacintha responded.

After soaping and rinsing Xyra's pussy and ass, my hands continued their way up her body. Her tits were taut with milk and I washed them gently, so as not to cause discomfort.

There was a slight rigidity to her torso, which I realized must reflect her ongoing irritation with me, or, more precisely, with Khrystyna's recent presence. My suspicions were confirmed when I made to wash her long, unbraided hair. She turned her head to the side, looking up and away from me petulantly, and blocked my right hand, which was holding the shower nozzle. I felt disappointed, far more than was truly warranted by her refusal. 'Fuck, I really am into her,' I thought to myself.

"Thou needest not trouble thineself," Xyra told me.

Jacintha had been watching the proceedings, like a cat. I happened to look over at her just as Xyra refused my attentions.

"Oh Jason, if you're not going to do her hair, there'll be time to do mine! Would you mind?" Jacintha asked, in a theatrically sweet voice. Her request did not make much sense, as her hair was so short -- there was not much for me to do with it.

Jacintha's words had an immediate effect on Xyra. Reversing the hand she had just used to block me, she grabbed my wrist and maneuvered it so that the shower nozzle was aimed at the tips of her long black locks.

"Upon consideration, perhaps mine locks are foul enough to warrant mine squire's ministrations," Xyra said, her face now bright red.

Xyra was facing away from me, so I mouthed the words "thank you" to Jacintha. She responded with a wink. I dragged out the process of washing and conditioning the hair as long as possible, massaging Xyra's scalp twice, once with shampoo, and once with conditioner, and carefully working both products evenly throughout the extensive surface area encompassed by her hair. With nothing better to do, Jacintha knelt down and began to lick Xyra's clit. She also slid two fingers into the warrior's canal, and rubbed in a circular motion.

"Damn girl! You sure are subtle!" Jacintha marveled, as, around the time I was rinsing out conditioner, she elicited an orgasm.

"Thou enjoyest partaking of quim?" Xyra asked her.

"No," Jacintha admitted. "Not at all, actually. I don't really do oral."

"Then the pair of us have a point in common; I sup on neither lance nor quim," Xyra said. "Tell me, why service me then?"

Jacintha grinned.

"'Cuz wait till I tell my sisters I know what Valkyrie meat tastes like! Ooh, they're gonna be jealous!"

Some minutes later, we had all dried off. Jacintha got dressed and left for home. Xyra and I went to bed together, not bothering to get dressed. The Valkyrie seemed intent on relieving the pressure in her boobs as soon as possible. She turned onto her side and put pressure on the top of my head, lining up my lips with her nipple line. She groaned as I drained each breast, as quickly as I dared. Once finished, I scooted back up so that our heads were aligned. She wrapped an arm around me and closed her eyes. I knew, from past experience with females, that I should at least try to get more information out of her about how she was feeling. Granted, she was unlike any woman I'd ever met before, but she had clearly been upset about Khrystyna.

"Xyra?"

"Aye?" she said, opening one eye. I felt like I was about to poke a dragon in the belly.

"Were you mad about Khrystyna being here?"

Xyra thought for almost a minute.

"I am a loyal warrior of the Island; it is not mine station to query or debase our most ancient traditions. Yet, wer't up to mine self alone, no other woman would so much as touch you for the rest of our days."

Before I could respond, she closed the solitary eye she had deigned to open.

Just before she began to snore, I heard her mumble, under her breath, "Beef-wit!"

* * *

Later the next day, a blond girl, Myliya, and I were standing in front of an oil painting. It hung on the wall of the cavernous, cool atrium of Kumaiya Island City Hall. Depicted was a handsome man who looked to be in his late thirties.

"Dost thou knowest the name of this personage?" she asked, in Atlantean. As Vasilika had told her, when she arranged for an Iaconian to take some of my one-on-one language sessions, she repeated everything she said an additional time.

"I reckon that's th' current First Senator? I cain't remember his name, though," I answered in Atlantean. For some reason, for which I had no explanation, I could understand almost any Atlantean words upon hearing them for a second time, and, as my vocabulary built up, was starting to understand entire sentences on first go-around.

"Panagiotis Florakis," the girl explained, clearly struggling to keep a straight face.

"What's so funny?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

"Thine accent is most amusing for an off-islander," she explained, as I had expected.

"I still don' understand, I thought men couldn't run fer office?" I asked, changing the subject. The conversation topic for the day was Civics, matching the subject matter covered in Vasilika's Oral Communication class, Omarasa's Atlantean Culture class, and Orion's Writing class. The three teachers had clearly been coordinating with each other.

"They may, after sixty annums," she explained; somehow, I had missed this point in Omarasa's class earlier that day. Unlike the fist day's class, which had been interactive and slow-paced, today's had seemed like having a fire hose aimed at my brain. I had never been strong in subjects like History or Sociology, and found it hard to focus on the flood of information. My attention kept drifting, primarily to Calista, but also to my children, fiancees, and friends back home. To top it off, my phone buzzed regularly as Jacintha texted lewd photos and videos clips showing various parts of her anatomy.

"Well, Mr. Panagiotis thar sure got himself a heap o' surgery," I commented.

"Surgery? I find that doubtful, in the extreme," Myliya replied.

"Yer tellin' me that guy looks like he's over sixty?"

"I would hazard he has 60 and 12 annums," Myliya said, after studying the painting more closely. Iaconians used an archaic form of Atlantean, and that extended to numbers as well. I had to do some quick mental arithmetic.

"No way! Yer sayin' that dude's in his seventies?"

"Verily," she said.

"But how?"

"Thou shalt learn more in thine lectures, at the appropriate juncture. For the nonce, trust that thou canst perceive not an islander's age by comparison to an off-islander."

My mind boggled, and I wondered about the doctors I had met back in the United States at the clinic Calista went to. After much thought, I decided they must be Atlantean, and wondered how old they actually were. When I met them, I adjudged them to be in their early thirties.

"So next yer gonna tell me yer actually thirty-two?" I asked. She looked like a high school senior or college freshman, to my eyes, but now I did not trust my judgment.

"Lack-wit! I have twelve and six annums," she said, which meant she was eighteen. "I matriculated at Diamandis University, and will commence coursework in the Fall."

"That's swell!" I said, wincing, as, for once, even I could tell I sounded like a country bumpkin. "That's where I'm goin' t' grad school!"

"Ah," she said, flatly, clearly uninterested in this news, "What department?"

I felt a slight twinge of disappointment at the blase nature of her response. Although normally sanguine around attractive women, largely due to being oversexed in the extreme, I felt an immediate attraction to Myliya the moment we met. Perhaps it was her resemblance to Natasha. Although their faces were not alike at all -- Myliya had large green eyes and the broad features of a Nebraskan farm girl -- their voice, hair color, and height were remarkably similar.

"College of Sports Medicine," I explained, "I'm studyin' Physical Therapy."

"Perhaps our paths shall cross," she said, without enthusiasm, "Now that I am of age, I have commenced PC Athletics, and shall strive to make the competition team."

"PC?"

"Pubococcygeus. Although in proper Atlantean we term it quim athletics."

Something about the phrase "pubococcygeus" triggered a memory.

"I think my girlfriend use' t' do that; she said she won some tournaments or somethin'."

"I find that most dubious, Jason, I have never heard of off-islanders conducting PC trials!"

"Agreed, but my girlfriend's from here."

"How dost thou have an islander paramour? I thought that impossible, afore leaving Kumaiya Isle." I noticed she was looking at me, at last, with something other than neutral disinterest.

"It's a long story," I said, and related an abbreviated version of how Calista and I had come to know each other. Myliya's eyes grew larger and larger as more details emerged.

"Unique!" she said. "What didst thou state as her surname? I have been a keen follower of PCA for many years, and mayhaps heard of her."

"Her name's Calista Corey," I said, "although I'm not sure that's her real last name."

"Verily, no Islander I have yet known bears the surname Corey. There was, however, one Calista Kariya some years back. She won a few minor tourneys."

"You mus' be a big fan to 'member all that!" I marveled.

"It has been mine dream to participate, for more annums than I can recall!" she said, sounding more enthusiastic about this topic than anything we had covered before. "I commenced training the very minute I came of age."

"What age is that?"

"One needs twelve and six years to begin." Eighteen, again.

"So how'd'ya train?" I asked. "I mean, not you specifically, but you generally?"

"To begin, one must build up the basic muscle groups. I am using quim rocks, for now, although shortly shall progress to exercises of greater complexity."

"Quim... rocks?" I asked, "Doesn't sound fun!"

"In point of fact, they are most interesting to hold inside mine quim. It is merely their Iaconian moniker that makes them sound crude. Outsiders call them 'vaginal training balls' or some such nonsense."

"Oh, Kegel balls!" I said, finally comprehending.

"Such a moniker is foreign to mineself," she said, shrugging. "If thou carest to examine them, I can show thee?"