Lost Colony Ch. 10

"Mwrrf." Beside him, Bogg sat upright, peering first through the open side window, then at Sparr. He shifted nervously.

"It's okay boy," he said, trying to soothe the beast. Sparr scratched at Bogg's flanks. If only he felt the same confidence he was trying to inspire.

Navigation Infrastructure not found, the control panel warned.

"Shit!" Sparr cursed. Of course there was no navigational infrastructure. Anything the original colonists had established had long been scavenged or lay in neglect. The car could tell up from down, but little more.

Aborting flightplan. The car began to descend, programmed to only operate within pre-established safety parameters. Below, a cluster of dockworkers spotted him, some gaping in astonishment, others dropping their tools and fleeing toward town. If he landed, there was every chance those that remained might attack him for riding a demon machine.

Sparr scratched at the controls. The setting to enable manual flight was purposefully hidden away.

Twenty meters. Terrain suitable for landing.

"Shit shit shit!" Sparr's fingers tapped at the screen, trying to find the setting, a task made no easier by Bogg's agitation. The beast had picked up on Sparr's state.

Ten meters.

There it was! He stabbed at the override, then again when the car asked him to confirm. "Fawk!" he cried out as the ground loomed.

The car lurched dizzily, sliding left while the front pitched up. Below, a spray of sand shot into the air as the left thrusters came within a meter of the beach. Sparr yanked the stick to the right and nosed the craft down. Once level, the thrusters angled forward, converting the vehicle's power into an almost violent forward motion. Adrenaline coursing through him, Sparr gradually tamed the machine, coaxing each over-correction of course or speed into something gentler. By the time he finally gained control the air car had shot nearly half a kilometer down the beach. It took a full minute for his breath to slow, and just as long for Bogg to settle back into his usual, placid state. Sparr regarded the animal.

"It's going to take more than a piece of dried meat to coax you back inside next time, isn't it?"

***

It took most of the afternoon to master the vehicle. Through a series of judicious experiments, Sparr practiced turns, climbs, hovering, and descents. Fortunately, even in manual mode, the stabilizers remained active. Though it could be unnerving, even relatively aggressive maneuvers were kept in check. By the time he had to stop for the day, Sparr had grown confident he wouldn't kill himself the first time he had to make a sudden course change.

There were other advantages to flight. The few villages that he encountered were easily avoided, the coastline kept in sight, and promising campsites identified. Shortly before sunset, Sparr spotted a clearing away from the road, but with fresh water and a flat place to land. For the first time in months, he camped under the stars.

Over the next several days an unexpected contentment settled on Sparr. Flying the car was a pleasure, as was the feeling of checking off as much as a thousand kilometers per day on his journey. And as much as Sparr missed his friends, he didn't miss Santi itself. He felt safer, the air was cleaner, and the grassy campsites he chose most nights were far more comfortable than the hard floor of the fabricator building. Bogg thrived as well. The creature was rarely eager to climb into the air car at the beginning of the day, but in the evening and during breaks took renewed pleasure in hunting for grubs, roots, and berries.

On the fourth day they spotted the ice, a ghostly peninsula barely visible east across the water. That day the coastline had gradually become rougher. The road that had connected Santi to the smaller southern villages turned first into little more than a footpath, then disappeared altogether. There was no more sign of human habitation or agriculture and taller trees had been replaced by scrub. He was nearing the farthest reaches of the southern continent.

To reach the ice he would have to fly for the first time across open water. If the car failed him he would surely drown or freeze to death. Sparr shook himself, chasing the idea away. Giving up on his quest wasn't an option.

Sparr edged the stick forward, guiding the car over the white-flecked southern sea.

***

"Mark me."

Aine had known that Sparr was near to saying his goodbyes, his time in Santi drawing to a close. Perhaps she had seen it coming for weeks, noticing changes creeping gradually into his behavior when they were together. Or perhaps it had struck her suddenly, the resolve and sadness marking his face that last day unmistakable.

Their lovemaking that final afternoon took on an intense, swelling urgency. The playfulness that sometimes lightened the mood in the bedroom was swept away, overshadowed by a looming finality. Sparr and Aine wrestled on the bed, grinding their bodies together in a tangle of limbs that echoed the tangled sheets. Both gave of themselves, and took from the other, groaning out a song of lust and longing. Smoke from Aine's scented candles swirled about them.

"Mark me," Aine panted. She knew how to manipulate him, knew to wait until desire so overwhelmed Sparr that he would deny her nothing. She guided his hand to one of her full, tender breasts.

"Mmm," he groaned, long and low. The two lay facing each other on the bed, blankets long since cast aside, their bodies gleaming in a fine sheen of perspiration. Sparr was buried in Aine's slit, working himself slowly and greedily into her while she ground her clit against him. When he obeyed her, clamping his hand hard against her breast, she responded immediately.

"Yes Alain," she gasped, "like that. I want to wear your scent, see the shape of your hand on my flesh. Oooh, I'll remember how you took me."

Sparr watched the play of pleasure and pain on Aine's face as he tightened his grip. She was a complicated woman. Forceful and persuasive in business, those same characteristics followed her into the bedroom. Some nights she would practically fling Sparr onto his back, riding his cock until she dragged them to orgasm. Other nights she needed to be manhandled. This afternoon she wanted both.

"You'll remember," Sparr agreed, bound to Aine's needs. "My hands on your body, my scent on your sheets, my cum deep in your pussy." He pumped slowly, but with force, sending ripples across Aine's caramel skin. "You'll wear my bruises."

"Yess," she moaned, aroused by Sparr's filthy talk. "Hurt me when you take it. Leave your mark when you cum."

"They'll know I had you." His strokes were getting ragged as he drew out the moment. He wanted to cum, wanted to sate his lusts, yet almost couldn't bear to let the moment slip away. Either way, he wouldn't last much longer.

Aine was trembling, her own orgasm looming. "Fuuuck," she moaned. "Hold me Alain. I want to kiss you... kiss you when I cum."

Sparr pressed his lips to Aine's hungrily, their tongues meeting and dancing together. For a deliriously long moment time seemed to halt. Sparr's only awareness was of his lover's soft lips, her warm skin, her scent, and the impossible bliss of her slick pussy. His hand tightened cruelly against her breast while he held his own release at bay. He would last at most three seconds longer. No more than two. Not one more heartbeat...

"Fuuuuck!" Sparr snapped his head back, unable to hold the kiss any longer, unable to contain his ecstasy. His cock surged forward, locked in place, and unloaded. "Unhh!" he grunted, as a hot spurt of seed ripped into his lover.

Aine's fingers dug into him. Like Sparr, her head turned away, pulling in a gasp of air before she came. "Oh, Alain. Oh, fuuuck!" Her pussy clamped down, eased, and tightened again.

The current of bliss carried the lovers along, an ecstasy made more potent that it might be the last they would share. Sparr held Aine as tightly as he could, unwilling to release her. The caramel-skinned beauty shuddered and twisted in his grasp. Like him, she seemed unwilling to let the moment slip away. But inevitably, the wave passed. The pair lay still, drained, and content.

Dreams found them.