The Passenger Ch. 06

She looked at me curiously, then smiled.

"Yes, captain," she said. "Anywhere you want me. Anytime you want me."

She stretched that gloriously beautiful, naked body of hers, turning slightly sideways to give me the best view of all those lovely round curves. That always drives me wild, and she knows it. But this time I wasn't planning to give in, although she could clearly see what it did to me and she smiled when se saw my cock swell and rise. She reached out to touch it, but I shook my head.

"Lie down. On your stomach, please," I said softly.

She raised her eyebrows, clearly wondering what I had in mind. But she did as I asked without question, turning her head sideways so that I could still see here face.

"As I said, you need some serious relaxing," I explained. "So, with that in mind..."

I reached for the shallow dish of light oil, a few degrees above body temperature, that I had made the autokitchen whip up for me. Then I took the golden curls that lay across her neck and shoulder blades and moved them aside. I dipped my fingers into the oil, put some of it in the palm of my other hand and put down the dish. Then I put both my hands on the back of her shoulders, spread the oil across her skin and began to knead the tense muscles that I found there. My touch was gentle but firm, my fingertips pressing and squeezing as necessary. The thin sheen of oil was just enough to provide the perfect balance between lubrication and friction.

"Hmmmm," she sighed. "That feels so good..."

I continued to knead her muscles, moving down from her neck and shoulders to her upper arms, gently massaging the tension out of her. I have no professional background in this sort of thing, but it really isn't all that hard, especially with someone you love. Just feel how her body responds and how her breathing changes as you go along, and that will pretty much tell you if what you're doing is working for her. If it isn't, just try something else until you hit something that's just right. As long as you're patient and your touch is gentle and loving, she usually won't mind if it takes you a little bit of time to find the right combination of light and firm touch, squeezing and caressing, pressure and stroking. And above all, don't rush. Go slowly and take your time. You might want to remember that, by the way. If you want to make someone feel loved, appreciated and, above all, spoiled rotten, you could do worse than a good massage.

I worked on her upper arms, applying a little more oil as I went. I gently squeezed and kneaded her muscles with alternating hands, then caressed her skin with the tips of my fingers, almost but not quite tickling her skin, which I knew would feel like an electric tingle to her. She made soft, appreciative noises as I continued, and I felt her slowly relax under my touch as I moved down her arms. When I reached her wrist, I gently stretched her arm, the carefully lowered it back onto the bed before returning to her shoulders, then to her shoulder blades.

Further down I moved, almost accidentally brushing the sides of her breasts with my fingers on my way to the small of her back, and her breathing became a sigh at the contact. Resisting the impulse to linger there, I moved on, applying less pressure to the region of he spine and working on muscles rather than vertebrae, and avoiding her sides as well because the last thing I wanted right now was to tickle her. I already knew she was ticklish, and that definitely had some interesting possibilities, but that was for another time.

My hands moved further down until they reached the swell of her butt. Following the curves I found there, I spread more oil across those lovely round buns, more caressing then kneading the firm flesh under my palms. My touch changed, and right now this was not just a massage anymore. She noticed it too. Her breathing deepened, and her body moved slightly on the bed as she felt the first twinges inside her.

I lingered there for a time, but not too long. The back of her left thigh was next, and here I could afford to be a little firmer again. My fingers kneaded her muscles, occasionally pressing deeper when I found some lingering tension inside. I carefully lifted her leg a little, moving down past the knee to her calf. I felt the tension continue to flow out of her as I did so. I worked on her foot for a while, then gently lifted her leg and stretched it. When I lowered it back down onto the bed I moved it slightly from its original position, so that when I was done, her legs were just a little further apart then they had been. Then I moved to her other leg where I did the same.

When I was done with her foot, I switched to a two-handed approached, gently stroking both her legs at the same time. I worked my way back up across her calves, her knees and eventually her thighs, but this time I paid more attention to the insides of her legs. My touch became gradually lighter, until I was caressing rather than rubbing the inside of her thighs. Higher and higher my fingertips traveled until they brushed the lips of her pussy, which were warm, soft and damp. She shuddered and moaned softly at the touch, but when I looked up I saw that she still had her eyes closed, a dreamy smile on her face.

After almost accidentally touching her pussy I moved up again, across the swell of her buttocks, where I lingered for a few long moments, then further up across her back until I reached her shoulders. Her body felt utterly relaxed under my touch, and her deep breath was a sign of total contentment.

After giving the skin of her upper arms another slow, gentle rub just for good measure, I moved down again, making sure to pay some more attention to the sides of her breasts, flattened under her body as they were. I noticed how her breathing changed as my fingertips drew patterns across the soft, smooth skin there.

Down, down... Soon I reached the swell of her butt, and this time I spent more time there, exploring those soft yet firm curves with my palms, the thin sheen of oil smoothing the passage of my hands across her skin. Moving in circles across those lovely, round buns, my hands caressed them in a way that was no longer a massage. With the fingertips of one hand I brushed the cleft where her buttocks touched. Running up and down along it, my fingers traveled lower and lower, until they reached the point where her butt cleft ended. Slowly my finger crept on until it touched the damp lips of her pussy.

Gently, ever so gently, I traced the soft outline of her folds with the fingers of one hand, the other still cupping the curve of her butt. Her flower gradually opened under my touch, and between them I felt the thick, rich nectar that had begun to pool there. She moaned softly as her body moved on the bed, not exactly squirming but definitely responding to the feelings that my caresses awakened within her.

My finger slid between her pussy lips effortlessly, aided by the slick wetness that waited there, and slowly found its way inside. Her silky-smooth insides were like velvet and honey. She crooned softly as my probing finger slipped deeper into her.

Gently moving around and exploring her slick, warm and wet core, my fingertip found the soft, raised spot at the front wall of her love tunnel and began to caress it, slowly rubbing it in small circles. She moaned and this time she did squirm a little on the bed.

Not yet, I decided. Time to slow it down.

I gently withdrew my finger from within her and stuck it in my mouth to lick the thick, sweet nectar off it before wiping it on the towel that covered the bed. Then I bent down, inhaling the fragrance of her soft, blond curls.

"Why don't you turn over," I whispered softly in her ear.

She smiled a big, happy smile, her eyes still closed. Slowly, lazily, she turned around until she lay on her back, her arms by her side. She never opened her eyes.

"Comfortable?" I asked.

"Hm hmm."

I dipped my fingers into the dish of oil, then spread it across the palms of both hands. Starting on her shoulders once again, I worked my way down her arms, then back up. I put another drop of oil on my fingertips and my hands slowly traveled down from her shoulders to her chest. Moving in circles, I skirted the outlines of her breasts and she sighed; a sound of deep contentment.

The circles grew smaller, and soon I was gently stroking the skin of her breasts until they filled my hands. When I brushed her nipples with my fingertips she made a small sound, something halfway a sigh and an "Uhm..." and I felt her breathing change. Her nipples had begun to grow larger and slightly darker even before I touched them. When I deliberately ran my palms over them, I felt them firm up under my touch. With my oily fingertips I began to work on those lovely nubs, and my touch became firmer until my caresses turned into a squeezing, a kneading, that soon had them rock-hard and standing up proudly. Her breathing had deepened and although she still had her eyes closed and her body felt completely relaxed under my hands, something inside her had now awakened that was not just relaxation.

Time to move on. Giving her lovely breasts a last caressing rub and her aroused nipples a final loving squeeze, I moved my hands down across her chest, here stomach, her mons. I kept my touch gentle but firm, knowing that I had to be careful not to tickle her, now more than ever. At the point where her mons began to dip down into the valley between her thighs my hands parted and began to work on her hips, then the outside of her thighs. I kneaded her muscles there, gently but firmly, moving down from her thighs to her calves and then her feet, and finally back up again, but now along the inside of her legs rather then along the outside and the front of them. Soon they reached the inside of her thighs, and I felt her anticipation with every touch.

Closer and closer to the apex of her thighs my hands traveled, and as they moved along, my touch became lighter; squeezing and kneading gradually gave way to stroking and caressing. She sighed and her thighs parted slightly as she moved.

Closer and closer my fingers crept to where she wanted them, until they finally reached their goal. The inner lips of her pussy were much larger now, and the thick, clear juices of her arousal glistened between them. I gently caressed them with my fingertips, running up and down along the outside, stroking, teasing, loving, and her slick juices lubricated that sensitive part of her so much better than any amount of oil ever could have done.

The tip of her clit, pink and taut, had come peeping from under its hood, and making a "V" with two fingers of one hand I stroked up and down around it, one fingertip on either side, as my other hand continued to play with her pussy lips. She let out a deep sigh that was half a moan, and her body moved on the bed as her arousal increased. I continued to caress her there; keeping my movements slow and my touch just firm enough to make her feel it, but light enough to be comfortable and teasing at the same time.

As the lips of her pussy opened further and a thick drop of her nectar formed there, the tip of my middle finger slipped between them almost of its own accord, and I felt her move under my touch in response. Not one to ignore a cue like that, I gently slid my finger between those warm, velvety, slick folds, entering her without any effort at all.

"Hmmm..." she sighed.

When I looked up, I saw her eyes were still closed, but her dreamy smile had vanished and instead her mouth was slightly open, her lips parted not unlike the nether ones I was currently caressing, and a slight flush had crept across her face. Her nipples were hard and engorged, and she breathed deeply. My finger slid a little further into her, but slowly, slowly, as my other hand continued to caress the stem of her clit, gently pulling the skin up and down as my fingers moved back and forth on either side of it.

Finally my finger was inside her all the way, and the hot, sopping wetness it found there completely engulfed it. Pulling the hood of her clit up, my middle finger gently touched the tip, and a small shudder ran through her. I spread some of her juices, which flowed out of her copiously by now, across that hard, sensitive nub and began to caress it small circles, making sure to keep my touch very light. With the finger of my other hand I found that magic spot inside her, soft and slightly squishy, and I rubbed it, moving both my hands in sync now.

When I felt she was ready I added another finger to the one already inside her and I doubled my caresses there, touching her clit a little more firmly now, occasionally moving my fingers up and down to pull on the skin that covered the shaft.

"Ooohhhh...." she moaned softly.

Encouraged, I gradually increased both the pressure and the tempo of my caresses, and she began to squirm slightly as her arousal rose and rose.

"Uhhhmmmmm... Ooohhh... Hmmmm...."

Closer and closer to that wonderful edge of release I took her, my caresses becoming more insistent as her arousal continued to grow, my fingers now slowly pumping in and out of her hot, wet pussy while I stroked and massaged her clit with my other hand. She began to moan and I knew I had her right where I wanted her.

More firm my touch, a little faster my movements...

And suddenly she grew tense, then shuddered under my touch and her body arched until she almost lifted her body off the bed as she reached, then toppled over the brink.

"Ooohhh... Hmmmnnnnnngggggnnn....... NnnnnnnnngggggooooOOOOHHHH!!!!!"

I felt her pussy clamp down on my fingers as she came, and a flood of her juices ran past them and out of her. I continued to work on her pulsing clit, keeping it up all the way through her climax, prolonging it as much as I could, until I felt her start to come down. She sighed deeply, and I felt her body relax.

I left my fingers where they were for a moment, trying to gauge whether I should continue and give her another orgasm. But all the tension was gone from her, both inside and out, and her sigh was soft and dreamy.

Ever so gently I with drew my fingers from her wet pussy and once again licked those delectable juices off them before wiping them on the towel. Her breathing had slowed, her eyes were closed. She was asleep.

I gently covered her with the sheet that I had put aside earlier. Then I took the bowl of oil from beside the bed and tiptoed out of the cabin. I put the bowl on the mess table; then I quickly popped into my own cabin to wash my oily hands and to put on an old but comfortable pair of shorts and a shirt that I sometimes like to wear when the mood strikes me.

I dropped the bowl of oil into the autokitchen's return chute and punched for something hot but with no caffeine. I didn't want to be up all night, but I wasn't quite ready to go to sleep, either. First I had some serious thinking to do.

First there was Layne, who was quickly shaping up to be a mystery inside an enigma wrapped in a deep cover identity. He had volunteered to take the fighter out and retrieve the surveillance buoy, and he had shown a remarkable familiarity with the ship's layout and controls, to which he had casually referred as "standard military issue." I still had no clue about the details of his background, but it was obvious that he had more than just a passing familiarity with this kind of thing.

Special forces? Intelligence? Covert black ops? I'd probably never know. But the level of competence and experience he'd shown were heartening. He'd plotted a standard elliptic orbit though the sunward Lagrange point, which would take him the better part of a day to reach, given the fact that he'd wanted to swing past it at a low velocity that would allow him to pick up the surveillance buoy without having to do too much maneuvering. He'd also taken Pete along, to "sound him out", as he put it, and I thought that had a slightly ominous ring to it. I had a feeling that Pete would turn out to be very cooperative but wouldn't have a single mark on him, when they returned.

Layne had also advised to get rid of the fighter. "When we're done, this ship had better disappear," he'd said with some regret as he eyed its slick lines. "We could probably use the parts, but it will be safer if it just vanished. I think I'll set the autopilot to take her into the sun. Shame, really. But we can't afford the risk of keeping her around, even in pieces. This is a low-tech place, and any operative who saw any of the parts around would know the score right away."

And now that I had met Blaahqorajey, I even thought I might know why he had gone to ground in a place like this. Blaar, when had eventually arrived with the second portion of Raz' crop, had turned out to be a young man, shabbily dressed and sporting a rather dusty beard, but his eyes were keen, and although he didn't say much, I was sure he didn't miss a lot. He had taken Layne's orders without question, but while Layne was talking to him I had noticed the similarities: eyes, noses, jawlines... There was no doubt in my mind that the two were closely related. In fact, I would put money on Blaar being Layne's son.

Layne said he'd retired and Manaka was a good place to lie low. It was sure to be off most people's radar; I'd give him that. And with no ships in space-worthy condition anywhere on the planet and with planetary comms having reverted to ancient history long ago, there wouldn't much chance of any information about his whereabouts getting out. Incoming ships were the only risk, and he'd made sure to check us out the moment we landed; something I suspected to be standard operating procedure for him. Layne wasn't the type to take chances.

Which meant that Pete would, in all likelihood, be a well-managed risk. Vergence picking up on even a hint of our plans and whereabouts was the last thing we needed right now, and any chance of that happening began and ended with Pete. Maybe Raz could have killed him in cold blood without losing any sleep over it, and I had no doubt that Layne could, but I'd much prefer to avoid something like that, and I knew Anne felt the same way.

But that was only half the problem. Pete and the risk he represented might be under control, but Deke Ryder was another matter entirely. Not only did he know the score when it came to Anne's true background, but he also pulled some major strings at Vergence. I had no idea how high up in their organization he was, but he was definitely a danger to us.

"You'd better come up with a plan here, Harvey," I said to myself. "You've got to so something about this. And soon. But what?"

Myself just looked glum and kept quiet. He had no idea, either.

Deke had managed to take me in completely. I'd worked with him for a long time and, by and large, he'd always given me a fair shake. Granted, his deals occasionally did a few sharp edges here and there if you weren't careful, and he'd always try to get the most bang for his buck. But show me a cargo broker who doesn't and I'll show you one who's not going to make it in the business. So, until now, he'd never given me any real reason to doubt him.

"But I'm afraid you've been a complete and utter sucker, Harvey," I told myself.

Myself disagreed. "You're too hard on yourself," he said. "There's no way you could have known. So stop beating yourself up about it. If you trust nobody then you can't do business, and Deke never gave any indication whatsoever that he was rotten under the surface."

I shrugged. Myself might be right. It didn't make me feel less of a chump, though. Be that as it may, the main question before the house right now was what to do about Deke. There was no doubt in my mind that something would have to be done, probably something fairly drastic, or we'd never be safe. Raz would be happy to oblige, I new. Ripping off Deke Ryder's head would make his day in a big way. But there was a good chance that his enthusiasm would get the better of him when the time came, and I strongly felt that something so messy and noisy should rather be kept well out of public view.