Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 25

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!" she cried out, shaking her head.

Despite being on the plateau, Roger immediately stopped, pulled out and took off her gag.

"Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just thought of something to do with the Beltway problem."

"Now?"

"Sorry, yes. I couldn't help it. It just came to me. I need to write it down."

"Oh, God!"

"Why don't you untie my hands and let me lie on my front, then I can write while you carry on from behind?"

Roger was too much of a gentleman to disoblige his wife, though Danielle would not have really complained if he gagged her again and fucked her senseless. Instead he kindly fetched her computer tab and untied her arms.

Lying on her front, she projected a scribble board and wrote - a little awkwardly - with a finger while Roger ploughed her doggy-style.

It was a huge equation, very complex, requiring all of Danielle's concentration to write it down, despite the very distracting things Roger was doing to her nether regions.

He thrust his hot hard cock into her pussy gradually deeper and faster. She coped very well at multitasking sex with mathematical physics. He thought she might have come a couple of times as he shagged away, though she made no special noise about it.

Danielle was beautiful from behind. Wavy platinum hair fell over her elegant shoulders. With her legs tied up, her back was in a steep arch away from her curvy buttocks, making her thin waist even thinner. She was at her most fuckable and Roger rammed her for an age.

With an evil smile, he pulled his cock out of her pussy. There was a small sigh and a moan, to show that at least one part of her mind was aware of what he was doing to her. He lined his well-lubricated cock up against her small puckered hole and pushed.

"Oh, God!"

That got her attention. Roger pushed in further and her head went down, eyes closed, savouring the special sensation and the slight pain. Then he stuffed all the way in and she gasped, keeping up her moans as he began to thrust deeply.

Danielle loved anal sex because of the tightness of the stretch and because, although her orgasms took longer to arrive, they lingered for ages and were sometimes piled one on top of the other.

Roger humped her hard and tried to distract her, playing the game fairly, without squeezing her nipples or pulling her hair, nor reaching around to rub her clit, though that would have been a winning move.

Danielle sighed a bit, moaned a bit, tried not to cry out and continued working on her equation.

He ran a thumbnail down her curving spine between the rows of muscle. She squirmed from the delicious sensation. He planted kisses on her shoulders and massaged the sides of her big tits, giving her the glandular sensation and a stiff ache in her nipples.

She was fighting the irresistible urge, the rising desire to let her mind go blank and surrender herself to his need, to be what she always loved to be, a sexual body that responded to his desires.

That moment was close. Danielle needed just a few seconds more. A line, a function, a constant, another identity and she was done, finished, the equation was complete. She saved her work and shut her eyes with her head down, no longer trying to suppress the joy from her husband's insistent ploughing into her arse but instead relishing the sweet agony as the long-delayed fulfilment fountained up inside her and spread in tingling ripples around her body.

She had a new orgasm on top of the old orgasm and another new orgasm on top of that, but she was still not finished until Roger achieved his consummation. To the accompaniment of her rippling ecstasy, he grabbed her waist tightly, groaned loudly and splattered her insides with a full load.

A dozen more hard thrusts, shaking her delicious body, until all the tension had gone. He untied her so she could lie on him and be held tightly until they fell asleep, whispering sweet love to each other.

Next morning, Danielle checked over her work, made some small corrections, decided that the equation captured the whole of the Beltway junction problem and set about trying to solve it. She spent until dinnertime without making progress and then tried again late into the night.

"I'm sure that if I can solve the equation then I will have solved the junction problem," she said to Roger, as she knelt on a pillow on Friday night, preparing to take his cock into her mouth to start off oral sex night, "but I'm not sure that I can solve the problem."

"You will," he said with certainty, his cock twitching as blood engorged it. "You always do."

She wrapped her soft warm mouth around his cock and began to lick circles around its head.

******

Michio Nakatani sat in the large imposing boardroom of the Nakatani Corporation on the top storey of the company tower in Tokyo and felt intimidated.

Although not yet thirty, Michio was a director of the transportation division and the son of its president, yet he was nervous in front of the Board of Directors.

Nine serious men in dark suits, including his father, sat around a large oak table in the oak-panelled room and looked seriously at him. The dignified board requested to know why the transportation division of the Nakatani Corporation was pursuing a difficult upgrade to the Beltway Hyperspace System.

The coalition with other engineering firms working on the Beltway Project seemed likely to break up due to delays, yet profits were available by selling stand-alone hyperdrive motors and tethered hyperspace links using the new technology.

Michio was in an impossible position.

He had agreed with Danielle Goldrick and Stephen Oakshott that the new technology would not be released onto the market immediately, to prevent the planet Samothea from suffering unwanted encroachment.

Instead, they judged that the lucrative prize for converting the Beltway System would keep critics within their organisations at bay for a time.

Danielle was thinking of the women of Samothea, their trusting characters and innocence of modern politics and business practises. Stephen Oakshott indulged Danielle, in whose brilliance he had a mystical faith. Michio was thinking about Yumi Takahashi, with whom he was in love. He did not want her life disrupted by wanton immigration into the inhabited part of the planet.

It was unlikely the board would have accepted Michio's personal motivations for delaying the pursuit of legitimate profits, but he could not explain his reasons without dishonouring his father. For Michio to say that he was acting for the sake of Yumi (a woman from whom his father had forcibly separated him) would be to admit that his arranged marriage to Sakura, which his father had pressured him into, had failed.

Since Michio had earned his father's respect and attached himself to the Samothea Project, he had been the perfect dutiful son, always respecting and honouring his father. He would never be so unfilial as to criticise his father.

With the Beltway upgrade stalled, Michio had no good reason to delay selling the new hyperspace technology to anyone who wanted to buy it. He gave no explanation to the board but bowed and agreed to their demands.

It was a sad and shamefaced man who videocalled Danielle and Stephen to confess that his company was going to break their compact and start selling the technology on the open market.

Danielle was sympathetic and would not let Michio blame himself.

"It was good of you and Stephen to indulge me for so long and at such cost to your businesses," she said. "It's perfectly reasonable for you both to take your profits."

"It's your own fault, Goldrick, for making such a good system," Stephen said. "Everyone wants to buy it."

Michio bowed humbly.

"Thank you, Danielle," he said. "I would like to install a direct communications link between Earth and Samothea."

A tethered pathway between Earth and Samothea using beacons large enough for communications probes but too small for spaceships would be relatively cheap to run and quick to set up.

"It's a good idea," Danielle said. "Outworld Ventures will like it. It will show their Earthside supporters that Samothea is in direct contact with Earth, not only via us on Celetaris."

Part of Michio's motivation was a desire to talk to Yumi and his son, Hayate, face-to-face. Soon he would be able to do so whenever he wanted.

******

Ezra's party were next back to Celetaris.

Edgar Fanshaw was chipper and rejuvenated. He and the nurses took Freya home with them because their first stop would be to collect Charlie-dog from the neighbours who had been looking after him. The mutt went mad with joy, having spent weeks moping, believing himself to have been abandoned forever. The unsanitary beast licked Freya all over and even Edgar himself was charmed.

After settling back into their apartment, and seeing that Danielle was busy at the Institute and Roger was probably in the library, Annela and Ezra went to see Cassie Leighton to discuss what the doctors at University College had said.

"I've seen some encouraging microbiology results already," Cassie said. "I don't think creating the nanotechnology will be the problem. I think it will be the cost. It will run into tens of thousands or more."

"You mean the cost for everyone on Samothea to get the treatment?" Ezra asked.

"Yes. The medical institute here is happy to pay for Annela because we're studying her but we can't afford to pay for everyone."

"We understand. We're working on a solution. What do you suggest for now about Annela's rejuvenation therapy?"

"I think you should start it again, Annela," Cassie said. "While you can't go back to Samothea, you can at least help the cell-repair process along."

"Will it have any effect on my baby?"

"No. If anything, it will be good for the baby, which has half its chromosomes from you (with their depleted telomeres) and half from Ezra. To restore full telomeres and fix other genetic damage would be healthy for you both."

"I suppose Annela will get her enhanced sex-drive back as well?" Ezra asked cautiously.

"I expect so," Cassie answered with a knowing smile to Annela. "Plus the extra warmth she has from her pregnancy."

"Bloody hell!" said Ezra, worried about the resilience of his cods.

******

Boarding the shuttlecraft, Petticoat II, to take them back to Celetaris, Kelly pushed ahead of Yael and Ryan to claim the middle of their three seats so she could sit between the lovers and prevent them smooching all the way home. Yael and Ryan shared a smile and obediently took their assigned places. As they strapped themselves in, there was an announcement by Robyn Bradford over the intercom.

"Please will Yael Eloisesdaughter Woodlander come to the flight cabin?"

Yael got up, looking puzzled.

"Come on, you two," she said.

"She asked for you," Ryan said.

"I know, but she must mean us all. Why would she want me?"

The flight cabin could be accessed via a small door at the front of the passenger bay.

As Yael ducked her head to go through the hatch, Barbara, the co-pilot, stood by the door. She waited for Kelly and Ryan to pass through as well.

"Hello, Barb," said Kelly.

Barbara nodded hello and shuffled into the passenger bay. She took up the three seats just vacated, lay across them and wrapped the harness around her in a mockery of orthodox safety procedures. She plumped up her pack to use as a pillow, turned to face the back of the seat and went to sleep.

"Hello, Robyn. You wanted us?" Yael said.

"Can you fly this crate?"

"Yes. Ezra taught me."

"Good. You're pilot now. Barb's not in a fit state to fly and I have work to do."

"Is she ill?" Ryan asked.

"No, just exhausted."

Barbara, one of the Petticoats, was being rotated after living for six months with the Herders, during which time she had been adopted into the tribe. The Herder braves gave her a send-off in their own exuberant style: an all-night orgy in which Barbara had broken every rule of scientific anthropology by interacting in a decidedly unprofessional manner with the people whom she was supposed to be objectively studying. It was no wonder she was exhausted.

Yael sat in furthest left of the four seats in the pilot's cabin.

"Strap in, you two," Robyn said to Kelly and Ryan, indicating the third and fourth places.

She sat next to Yael in the co-pilot seat and said: "Take us up."

"I've never taken off vertically before," Yael said. "I've only ever used the runway."

"Do you know what to do?"

"In theory."

"Well then, let's see if your theory fits the facts."

Robyn strapped herself into her seat and took out her computer tab to work on a document she was editing.

Yael began to check the batteries, fuel levels, hatches and emergency system. She directed the hull cameras to perform a visual inspection, checking the rocket and jet ports were clear and the area around the shuttlecraft was free of people and animals.

"What are you doing?" Robyn asked.

"The safety checks."

"Barb did them."

"But she was half-asleep. Besides, Ezra told me always to do them myself and never trust anyone else."

"Ezra taught you well. Are you ready for engine tests?"

"Yes. Going to 25 on the forward rockets."

Yael pushed the lever forward to spark a 25% boost on the forward manoeuvring rockets.

"Steady, good heat," Robyn reported.

"25 aft."

"Good."

"25 midline."

"Good."

With the eight manoeuvring rockets working well, Yael turned them smoothly off and the shuttlecraft eased back on its landing gear. She engaged the brakes and lit the inline solid rocket boosters and span up the atmospheric jets. She held the throttle in until she heard a 'ping' as heat-expansion in the exhaust cowlings stretched the metal deflectors against the hull. She cooled the jets, listening to the descending pitch of their whine, timing their recovery.

Robyn smiled at Yael's attention to detail and again thought well of Ezra's instruction.

Satisfied, Yael said confidently: "All checks done, Robyn. She's ready."

Robyn made the announcement over the intercom.

"Ladies, your pilot today is Yael Eloisesdaughter Woodlander; so strap in tightly and say your prayers."

Yael smiled.

"Computer, give me half manual control," she said to the piloting console.

"Computer, belay that order," Robyn said. "Give her full manual control."

Under automatic control, the computer piloted the shuttlecraft. Under half-manual control, it corrected the pilot's minor errors, smoothing the throttle, joystick and rudder bar movements. Under full manual control, the piloting computer intervened only in an emergency.

"But what if I make a mistake," Yael asked. "We could all be killed."

"Then that's a good incentive not to make a mistake," said Robyn Bradford, mistress of the no-nonsense approach to getting the best out of people.

Yael hesitated. She looked to Ryan for guidance. He smiled and gave her a wink. That was the trust she wanted. She winked back and pressed the intercom button.

"Ladies," Yael announced to the passengers, "prepare for take-off in ten seconds."

As the computer performed the countdown, she lit the rockets again and the shuttlecraft began to shake, pushing up its nose.

"... nine, eight, seven ..."

Yael spun the jets again. The engines gave a hearty throb.

"... six ..."

"Half burn on the manoeuvring rockets," Yael said, "ten percent on the inline boosters, ten on the jets."

"... three, two, one ..."

Yael pushed the throttle levers forward. Cones of violent blue fire spat out of the rocket exhausts. Clouds of white and grey smoke encased the shuttlecraft.

"We're off!" Yael announced and CSS Petticoat II lifted up from the surface of Samothea, turned westward over the sea and began a steady climb.

"Wheels up," Yael commanded the computer.

In a minute they were at two-thousand feet and six-hundred knots. Yael inclined the forward rockets and pulled back on the stick to increase the climb.

"Stay at six-hundred knots until we're at twenty thousand feet," Robyn said, not taking her eyes off her computer tab.

"Yes, Robyn."

Half a minute later, Yael had steered the spaceship into an upright path. She trimmed for vertical flight.

"Twenty thousand feet," Yael said.

"Let her go!" Robyn ordered.

Yael went to full thrust on the solid boosters and the atmospheric jets. Crew and passengers felt the kick in their backs and heard the exciting roar of the motors, which gave the ship a violent shake but quickly settled down into a strong rumbling vibration. The rocket exhausts made a bright orange stream, leaving behind a trail of white smoke.

A minute later, the women in the Cloner City heard the echo of the sonic boom rolling in from the sea. Some of those who were working outside had watched the shuttlecraft, encased in clouds of its own making, power through the atmosphere in its quest for the heavens. They wished it a silent 'good luck' and went on with their work.

In an hour, Petticoat II met its detachable hyperdrive unit in orbit 3,000 miles above Samothea. Yael told the piloting computer to perform the docking manoeuvre.

With the engine attached and powered up, they took aim for the hyperspace beacon in geostationary orbit nearly 21,000 miles away, using the ion drive to accelerate to 40,000 miles per hour.

The beacon was a grey metallic ring with a vast solar collector nearby to provide power. Gold lights ran around the inside edge of the ring. In its middle was a translucent purple disc of charged particles. This was the hyperspace plume, the interface through which the shuttlecraft would jump 2,000 light-years in a few seconds.

Again, Yael left it to the piloting computer to line up the craft. The computer performed a radio handshake with the beacon and made its final adjustments. They flew into the purple disc.

Eighteen seconds later the ship emerged from the hyperspace beacon in orbit 25,000 miles above Celetaris, leaving a hole in the purple disc that shimmered for a second before re-forming itself.

Yael could have let the computer take over the rest of the way but she was enjoying herself and keen to learn, so Robyn had to put down her computer tab for a few minutes to give instructions. Yael turned the shuttlecraft around and used the ion drive to reduce orbital velocity, taking them closer to the planet.

When they were orbiting at 3,000 miles, they detached the hyperdrive unit and Yael told the piloting computer to calculate a trajectory to Ocean City Astroport. The computer projected the results onto the viewing screen as a green funnel-shaped basket with the shuttlecraft as a red icon within it. To keep to the flight-path, Yael had to steer the craft between the grid-like walls of the funnel.

Yael lit the manoeuvring rockets and made her first adjustments.

It was important not to come in at too shallow an angle because the shuttlecraft would bounce off the atmosphere and have to do another orbit to find the ideal entry point again. Come in too steeply and the heat from atmospheric friction would damage the shields and burn out the cameras, temporarily blinding the pilot. With the right entry path, however, the craft would glide smoothly down to the Astroport, using a minimum of fuel.

Still facing the wrong way, Yael put an extra burn on the rockets to fine-tune the trajectory, then she turned the ship around and cooled the motors.

"Nose up, Yael," Robyn said, taking a brief look up from her computer pad.

Yael angled the nose up even further, so she would hit the atmosphere flat on, showing maximum surface area, almost in a stall.

There was light buffeting at about one-hundred miles up, followed by severe buffeting and a muffled whistling noise, which increased as the air thickened. The edges of the wings and the nose-cone began to glow with heat. Yael gently teased the controls to keep the craft steady. Her touch was the lightest it could be, her feet just resting on the rudder bar. Too much control and the ship could be pushed into a spin.