The Passenger Ch. 10

Layne was waiting for us by the dilapidated buildings at the edge of the field.

"Layne," I said.

He nodded, confirming my diagnosis.

"Hello, stranger," Anne said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"They don't come much stranger than me," he agreed laconically. "Hi, Anne. How've you been? Hello, Harvey."

"We're good," Anne said. "We come bearing gifts."

"Gifts, eh? Raz' data dump didn't mention that. He did say something about a... guest, though."

"You could say that," I answered. "Not quite a voluntary guest, mind you, but I imagine you'll be able to accommodate him anyway."

His smile was chilly.

"That should be no problem," he said. "His stay here may very well be temporary, anyway."

"Oh?" Anne asked innocently.

Layne shrugged.

"Raz told me we're all on the same side here, so I suppose there will be no secrets between us. I can't speak for Raz, of course. But yes, the honorable Mr. Deke Ryder won't find his stay here very enjoyable, I imagine. Once he has told me everything he is going to, I am instructed to notify Raz. I understand his family will be with him on his next visit here, and Deke will be given an opportunity to leave the quarters we have so generously made available to him. If he takes that opportunity, I imagine that our visiting pack of Gawrrans will ensure that his attempt at escape won't end well for him."

"And Pete?" Anne asked.

Layne stared into the distance for a moment.

"Strange thing, that," he said then. "Pete almost seems... happy here. He had to get used to the life, of course, spading up cropland and pitching manure all day long and all that, but he seems to have adapted to it somehow. I have a feeling that when we leave his door standing open, he'll stay just where he is. In fact, he could have escaped a number of times already. Not sure where he'd go, of course, and I suppose he knows that, too. But he could have taken off long ago, and more than once. He never has."

I shrugged.

"I suppose we'll see," I said.

"I guess so," Layne replied. "Meanwhile, Blaar is on his way here. We managed to get the old flatbed loader going again, so we won't have to use antigrav belts this time to unload your cargo. That BCU is way too big for that sort of thing anyway."

Blaar arrived about ten minutes later, driving what Layne had called a flatbed loader. His description had been rather generous, I decided. Most of it might have been a flatbed loader once, but the missing parts had been replaced with what looked like the remains of a garden shed after the tornado had passed, and the tortured whine it made as it moved was heart-wrenching to anyone with even the least bit of affinity for engineering. Still, it did the job. The articulated loading arm was a little wobbly, but it worked, and so did the antigrav coil at its tip. It looked like Blaar had at least been successful in repairing this one without making it collapse into itself.

Unloading the Slowboat only took a few hours. Getting the Bio Containment Unit with its unwilling passenger out of the hold and onto the loader was a little tricky, but with some undiluted elbow grease and an extra set of antigrav coils we got the job done. Anne and I managed to service the ship in the time that remained, but the brief Manakan day had began to turn into evening before we could get around to refueling. The wan light of the setting sun turned the dust an even deeper shade of red than it already was when we decided to call it quits.

"Raz said you're sort of part of the family now," Layne remarked casually.

"I suppose you could say that," Anne replied. "Have you known him long?"

Layne shrugged.

"It seems like forever. I knew him long before I started working for him. It started with a few odd jobs here and there before I ended up here on this dustball."

"Oh?" Anne said innocently. "What sort of jobs?"

Layne smiled.

"Odd ones. And you? I understand you're helping him with some sort of research program?"

I nodded.

"More or less."

Layne stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled, politely acknowledging my 'two-can-play-that-game' approach.

"I'll bet it has something to do with those crops we're growing here for him," he said.

"I'm not a betting man, myself," I said blandly. "But maybe Raz is. Why don't you ask him?"

Layne chuckled.

"Maybe I will do that," he said. "Anyway, it's been a pleasure once again. If you'll excuse me, I'll go see how our little biohazard has come out of his container. We'll refuel you first thing tomorrow."

He took a step, then stopped and turned.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

I'm not sure how he did it, but with a sleight of hand and a flourish that would turn any stage magician green with envy, he produced a flower, seemingly out of nowhere. It had a long stem and was slightly smaller than a rose, and its delicate violet petals were tipped with white.

"A beautiful lady should have at least one beautiful flower," he said, handing it to Anne with a slight bow.

"Why, thank you, kind sir", Anne said as she accepted it.

She sniffed it and smiled.

"It's lovely."

"My pleasure," he said. "Anyway, I'll see you both tomorrow. Good night."

"You too. Nice talking to you, Layne," I said, with just a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

He turned and waved as he walked away.

"Trying to get anything out of that man is like pulling teeth," I said.

Anne raised her eyebrows.

"Have you ever pulled teeth?"

"Nope."

"Then how do you know?"

I shrugged.

"Just a guess, I guess. Pulling teeth can't be that much harder."

"I'll bet you have knocked a few teeth out in your day."

I made a face.

"Once or twice, yes. But I prefer to avoid such things. Anyway, that was nice of him. I've never had the opportunity to give you flowers."

"No," she said. "But what you have given me is so much better."

She walked up to me and kissed me. I sneezed.

"You're all dusty," I said.

"So are you, my love. I think a shower for both captain and crew is in order."

She smiled happily and sniffed her flower again.

"Would you wash my back, captain?"

"With pleasure, my loyal crew. And your front, if you'd like."

"Oh yes. I would like. Lead on, my captain."

I did, and she followed me, holding Layne's flower to her nose and inhaling its delicate aroma.

As I've mentioned before, the shower stalls on the Slowboat aren't very large, but we'd learned to make it work until we could do some refitting. Anne got in first, because she likes to start with her hair and she needs some room for that. Once she'd finished rinsing it, she moved aside so that I could enter the stall as well, which put us closely together. Very closely.

She turned to face the transparent wall of the shower stall, and I bent to the task of washing her back. Which is a job I love, by the way. I poured some liquid soap into my hands and started at her shoulders, gently spreading the soap across her skin. Right now. the cramped shower stall was actually an advantage, because it caused me to shield the spray of warm water with my own body which prevented the soap from being washed off her skin too quickly.

I gently caressed her shoulders, her neck, her upper arms, her shoulder blades... Then down to the small of her back; my hands working in gentle circles and working up a lather as they slid across her smooth skin, lubricated by the soap. Then my hands parted to caress the outer curve of her hips before homing in on her lovely butt.

I will probably never get enough of those wonderful buns of hers. They are amazingly smooth, firm, high and beautifully shaped. No ship ever sported more lovely, more streamlined curves. Yet, at the same time, they are amazingly soft to the touch, and they wiggle in a fashion that I have never seen before and that wants to make me howl at the moon. They also fill my hands like they were made for it.

I knelt down behind her, there on the wet non-slip floor of the shower, which put her butt right at my eye level. I caressed those lovely globes with my soapy hands; gently massaging, kneading, squeezing and caressing. Her sigh was a sound of intense contentment, and when I gently pulled her buns apart she moaned softly and she leaned forward a little, supporting herself with her hands against the wall of the shower stall. She put her feet a little further apart so that the puffy lips of her pussy were just visible between her thighs, sweet and plump and pink.

Privately I suspected that the smoothness of those lovely folds might be a part of her genetic makeup. Her body was, after all, literally made for sex. I've never noticed any trace of hair there, and to the best of my knowledge she'd never had to do anything to keep her pussy so wonderfully hairless and smooth. But it doesn't really matter, and it's certainly not something I'm ever going to bring up. Some boons are simply not to be questioned.

I applied a little more soap to her thighs, then began to work my way down in slow circles, caressing her skin with my soapy hands. Down, down, across her knees, her calves, her ankles. She lifted her feet one by one, and I made sure to clean both of them with loving thoroughness.

Then I began to work my way back up, but this time reaching around to work on the front and inside of her legs. When I reached her thighs, I deliberately avoided the region of her pussy, and she groaned softy, sounding a little frustrated. But that was fine with me. A little teasing every now and then can go a long way, and I knew it would be so much better for her when I finally reached those places she wanted me to reach.

Up and up, across her mons and her stomach, until I reached the underside of her breasts. When I brushed those lovely curves she shuddered, and her moan was louder this time. Interesting. She seemed quite aroused already, and I hadn't even gotten to the good parts yet.

I traced the underside of her breasts with my fingertips, the smooth skin that covered those round curves slick and soapy under my touch. She squirmed a little and her breathing deepened. Then my fingers slid up along the outside of her breasts, following the curvy outlines until they filled my palms. She moaned again as I gently lifted them, their weight filling my hands. Then my fingers slowly moved inward until they found her nipples.

Gods, they were hard! I couldn't remember ever having felt them that large and hard, and that was saying something. I gently caressed them until they slipped out from under my soapy fingertips, and she shuddered again. Holding her in place with both arms, her back against my chest, I found those rock-hard tips again with my thumbs and forefingers and I began to play with them; gently squeezing them, rolling them back and forth, rubbing them... Her moans grew louder and louder as my caresses became more intense. Then I carefully pinched those lovely buttons, feeling once more how insanely hard they were, and suddenly her body grew rigid against mine and her back arched.

I held her against me as she shook with the force of an entirely unexpected orgasm, her cries of pleasure echoing loudly within the narrow confinements of the shower stall, and if I hadn't been there to steady her I'm not sure she would have remained standing. She shook and shuddered as her climax went on and on until she almost collapsed, and I had to hold her up against the steamy wall of the shower stall as she panted and tried to catch her breath.

This was not the first time she'd had cum from having her nipples played with. Yet, somehow, this time it was different. She'd been unusually aroused already, and I'd never felt or seen his nipples this hard, in spite of all the attention I'd lavished on them on previous occasions. They'd been like little pebbles even before I touched them, and then, after a only little gently rubbing and pinching, kaboom! And as far as her orgasm itself was concerned, this one had rated about eleven, from the sound and looks of it. What the hell?

"Wow," I said, when her breathing has slowed a little. "Where did that come from?"

She looked at me over her shoulder.

"Do that again," she said, her voice a little raw.

I was happy to oblige, and my hands found those hard nubs almost of their own accord. I squeezed them between my thumbs and forefingers, rolled them, gently pinched them. She had her eyes screwed shut and if I hadn't known any better, I'd have mistaken the look on her face as one of extreme agony.

"Yes... Yes... Harder. Harder!" she groaned.

I may be a captain, but I can follow orders if the situation demands it. So I grasped her nipples firmly and squeezed, hard.

"Ohyes... Ohgodsyes ohgodsyes ohgodsyes ohgaaahhhhHHHH!!! NnnnggggmmMMM!!!"

This time her entirely body shook as if she had touched a live wire, and it was all I could to to keep her from collapsing. Her hands pushed against the transparent wall of the shower stall, her back arched and I had to hang on for both of us as she thrashed from head to toes, cumming like I had never seen her cum before from just having her nipples played with. It went on and on and on, and my fingers continued to pinch her nipples until they slipped out of my grip. Her screams turned into grunts and even rawer sounds as the violence of her climax wreaked its havoc on her, and all I could do was hold her.

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked myself.

Myself shrugged, having no clue, either.

Eventually the storm died down and she sagged in my arms. I'd seen her reel with the force of an orgasm before, but this time she seemed really out of it. Her eyes were unfocused and her breath came ragged, and it took me quite some effort to keep her from dropping on the floor of the shower stall. But after a few moments she recovered a little, caught her breath and managed to stand, although she still trembled and she had to lean heavily against the wall of the stall.

"That... That was..." she tried.

"Are you alright, Anne?"

She nodded.

"Yes... More than just alright... Just give me a moment... I need to catch my breath."

She stood there for a long minute, then turned and smiled.

"Wow," she sighed.

"Where in the name of all that's unholy did that come from?" I asked.

She chuckled.

"Maybe... Just maybe... I might know. But let's get cleaned up and find out. I'll explain later. If I'm right."

Having had worse offers, I nodded. But I wondered. Then a thought struck me.

"Sonofabitch... Could that be it?" I said to myself.

Myself nodded.

"Gotta be," he said.

"Surely not."

Myself shrugged.

"Unless you can suggest something more likely," he said.

I couldn't, so I shut up. Myself might very well be correct. Inwardly I shrugged. Anne was right; there was only one way to find out, and it was a good idea any way you looked at it. She obviously looked at it in her usual way, because a quick rinse and dry later she literally dragged me out of the shower and to the bed. When we reached it she let go of my hand, turned, and literally threw herself on it. She flopped down on her back, pulled up her knees and spread her thighs as wide as she could.

"Do me," was all she said.

I knelt in front of the bed and leaned forward. The lips of her pussy had flowered open and the opening between them was overflowing with her juices, thick and clear, and I hadn't even touched her there yet! At the top of her pussy her clit had already come peeping out from under its hood, but I didn't remember having seen it like this before. Just like her nipples, it was harder and larger than ever, and instead of its usual pink color its surface, shiny with tension, was a deep red; almost purple.

I put my hands lightly on the insides of her thighs and slowly moved my palms inward. She shuddered and moaned, and a thick rivulet of her juices flowed out from between the petals that framed her opening. I moved closer, bending down further, until I dipped the tip of my tongue into that clear pool, and her honey was sweet and velvety in my mouth.

She shuddered as my tongue explored her entrance. She moaned as I licked along the lips of her pussy, and when I dipped the tip of my tongue deeper into her pool of delight she began to shudder.

"Oh yes... Ohyes ohyes ohyes..." she moaned.

Then I moved my tongue up until it touched the exposed tip of her hard little pleasure button, ever so lightly. And that was all it took. I felt a shock run through her at the contact, and suddenly her thighs clasped my head; her back arched and her moans became a scream as she came. If it hadn't been for the fact that her thighs gripped my head like a vise, I would have lost all contact with her clit, but she held me there, and her little button pulsed against the tip of my tongue as the fountain of her pleasure ran down my face and chin. I felt her pussy contract rhythmically, again and again and again, while she shook and shuddered as if she was having a convulsion.

But eventually even the biggest volcanic eruption must die down. She let out a deep sigh and slumped back down on the bed, utterly slack, panting and with rivulets of sweat running down her skin. When her breathing had slowed a little, I gave her pussy a light, experimental lick. She moaned softly, and it sounded encouraging, so I did it again.

"Ooohhh... Yes, right, there... Yes, just like that..." she said softly.

I took her legs and put them over my shoulders, one on either side of my head with her heels touching my back. I gave her pussy a few slow, loving licks. She shivered under my touch and the folds of her most intimate flesh felt hot and slick against my lips. Then I carefully probed between them until my questing fingertip found her opening and slid inside her.

Her hips bucked and she moaned loudly as my upturned fingertip found that soft, spongy ridge just inside her pussy. Reaching around her thigh, I found the hood of her engorged clit with the fingers of my other hand and gently pulled it further upward.

"Oooohhh... Yesss... Ohyesohyesohyes...."

I braced myself, because I had a fair idea of what was coming. I took a firmer grip of her thigh with my arm as my tongue found the hard, smooth tip of her swollen pleasure button once again. The effect was immediate: she screamed and I felt her inner muscles grip my finger as the orgasm hit her. As I had anticipated, it was a massive one. I held on for dear life and I don't know how I did it, but I managed to keep the contact between my tongue and her pulsing clit. Her juices flowed like a river, then like a waterfall, running out of her around my finger and spraying against hand, my face, my neck, my shoulders. Her whole body thrashed on the bed, but I managed to flick the tip of my tongue across the head of her clit as her convulsions went on and on. Her screams were raw and animalistic as she came and came.

When she started to come down, I let her relax a little, but not as much as before. Then my tongue found her clit again, and immediately her cries grew louder once more. She shivered, and it took only a moment before she cried out again and shook under my caresses with renewed intensity. It was hard to tell if this was simply a new orgasm right after the previous one, or a single orgasm extended into one long release of pleasure. Her clit continued to pulse under my tongue and her juices continued to flow as her cries of ecstasy rang through the cabin.

By now I had learned to gauge the tension in her muscles and the sound of her voice, and I knew exactly how and when to apply my tongue to the tip of her pulsing, rock-hard clit. I'd catch her when she started to come down from one climax, only to drive her mercilessly back up that slope of unbearable pleasure on her way to the next one. Together we found the rhythm; the one that made her cum almost non-stop. Every orgasm seemed to be more intense and more explosive than the previous one, and her juices became a flood. She simply couldn't stop cumming. And I wouldn't let her stop.