Three Square Meals Ch. 125

"So big and strong," she murmured, in a haze of arousal. "I need you..."

John picked her up effortlessly and strode over to the bike, then placed her astride the seat. He could see the questioning look in her eyes, but Rachel was so turned on, he knew she would agree to anything. Throwing his leg over the seat, he mounted the bike... then mounted Rachel. She gasped as he pushed her torso down and raised her hips, a gasp that turned into a disbelieving groan as he lined up his cock and pushed deep into her pussy.

"Oh fuck!" she whimpered as his huge shaft spread her wide open.

Her labia were stretched taut around his girth, Rachel's nubile body yielding to accommodate his throbbing shaft. Reaching the end of her pussy, he paused for a moment when he nudged into her cervix, letting her know what was coming next. The brunette trembled with anticipation, waiting for him to claim her womb.

John reached over her to turn on the hover-bike, then pressed the button to activate the engine simulator. The machine rumbled to life, vibrations coursing through the chassis and into the panting teenager straddling the frame. Rachel squealed as those tremors were focused on her clit that was pressed against the padded seat, just as John shoved the last few inches of his burgeoning cock into her belly.

He watched in amazement as she reacted, Rachel bucking her hips in a frenzied climax. The combination of physical and mental stimulation had driven her wild, and she screamed in ecstasy as her clutching pussy tried to milk his cock. John had no intention of ending this anytime soon, so he pinned her against the vibrating hover-bike and started pistoning his cock into her with long, agonisingly slow thrusts.

"What did Dana say again?" he teased her, wrapping his hand in her lustrous brown mane and pulling her hair back. "Rev her up and make her scream?"

"Fuck me!" she demanded through bared teeth. "Make me your slutty biker whore!"

Rachel's refined accent made hearing such lewd profanities all the more exciting. John took a firm grip on her waist and proceeded to give her the pounding she deserved. Between his powerful thrusts that sent her senses into orbit and the throbbing bike between her thighs, the brunette was in a state of perpetual bliss. It wasn't just a case of being multi-orgasmic, Rachel experienced a relentless succession of orgasms that rocked her world.

They were like rutting animals, with sweat dripping off John to land on her quaking back, her flexing muscles already soaked with perspiration from her body's exertions. Rachel was climaxing with her whole body, her slender arms and graceful legs trembling with the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she clung to the bike for dear life. Any banter was reduced to mindless grunts or shrieking wails, a primal mating cry that echoed over the waterfall and across the jungle.

"Getting close..." John muttered through gritted teeth as he gripped her waist. "Where do you want it?"

Rachel sobbed through another mind-blowing climax, her pussy rippling along his length. She was too fucked out to speak and barely managed to look over her shoulder, licking her lips and giving him a wanton look.

John slowly eased himself out of her steamy depths, drawing a mewling cry of protest from the exhausted brunette. He moved back a little, picked her up, turned her around, then placed her on the bike facing him. Rachel simply opened wide in invitation, letting him guide his swollen cock into her mouth, then down her willing throat. He held her gently in place as he thrust against her soft lips, feeling that urgent need rising in his balls until he could hold back no longer.

Hilting himself inside her, John roared his release, pumping a huge quad-full into the prostrate girl. His climax lasted for over thirty seconds, shooting long spurts directly into her rapidly-filling stomach and making her belly fat with his cum. Rachel could do little else than moan with satisfaction, sucking mindlessly on his cock as she took everything he could give her.

When he was finally done, John toppled off the hover-bike and collapsed on the blanket-covered ground. "Holy fuck..." he muttered, his chest heaving as he panted for breath.

Rachel lay half-comatose on the bike, her head resting on the seat and a look of euphoria on her face.

"Love you..." she whispered, gazing at him in awe.

***

Captain Xian Lingxin tapped the button to open the door and waited for it to slide aside with a quiet hiss. "How's he doing, Doctor?" he asked, entering the Podarge's Medical Bay.

Doctor Mia Riedl looked up from the medi-scanner. "Thank you for coming, Captain. There's been no change, he's still in a coma."

Lingxin walked over to join her, his eyes drawn to the sandy-haired man lying unconscious on the bed. There was a bandage wrapped around the patient's head, evidence of the injury that had incapacitated Commander Tom Walker.

"How bad was the head wound?" he asked, feeling a surge of sympathy for the sole-survivor of the massacre in the Callopean Shoals.

The doctor hesitated, removing her glasses and rubbing at her tired eyes. "Actually... that's why I called you. While I was performing diagnostics on the patient, I discovered something important that I wanted to speak to you about."

Lingxin turned to look at her with concern. "How bad is it, Doctor?"

"That's just it, Captain," she replied, sliding the glasses back into place. "The head wound looked serious but it was just a nasty cut to his scalp. I've thoroughly cleaned the injury and with minor cosmetic surgery, you would never know he'd been hurt. I also completed three body-scans and they all showed the same thing: there is no trauma to his brain... and nothing that would cause a coma."

"But he's still completely unresponsive?"

She nodded. "That's correct."

"So what knocked him out then?" Lingxin asked, looking at her in confusion.

"When I realised that he hadn't been incapacitated by his injury, I decided to perform a tox-screen... and discovered some unusual chemicals in his blood stream."

"He's been drugged?!" the Captain blurted out in surprise.

Doctor Riedl gave him a curt nod. "I believe so, Sir. I don't have the equipment aboard the Podarge to perform a thorough analysis; we'll have to wait until we reach Terra before we can identify the toxin."

Lingxin glanced at his watch, which was tracking his cruiser's progress to their destination in the Core Worlds. "We'll arrive just after midday tomorrow. Is there any risk he won't survive until then?"

"His vital signs are strong," the doctor replied, glancing at the scanner console. "He doesn't appear to be in any immediate danger."

The Podarge's captain turned his curious gaze to the unconscious man lying on the hospital bed. "What the hell happened to you, Commander Walker?"

***

A fine mist had formed over the pool, with bright prisms of light arcing across the base of the waterfall.

"That was just incredible," Rachel whispered, leaning back into John's embrace, the water splashing down around them. "The best ever..."

He smiled and kissed her neck, while running his hand over her rounded stomach. "I was planning on something tender and romantic after feeling so close to you earlier... but that worked too."

Rachel giggled and nuzzled into him. "It really did..."

John glanced up at the sky, seeing the bright sun making its inexorable descent towards the horizon. "I'd love to laze around here with you all day, but there was a reason I brought my sword..."

"Oh, I suppose I could be persuaded to help out," she said, stretching languidly and giving him a coy look.

Chuckling, he kissed the tip of her nose. "You'll have to give me a bit of time to recharge my batteries."

The brunette pouted playfully, then took John's hand and let him lead her out of the pool. "Having a soak was a lovely idea... but we forgot to bring towels."

John paused for a moment, then turned to face her. "Maybe we don't need them."

Rachel looked at him quizzically, watching as John closed his eyes and released her hand. He gestured to the right and she felt a light breeze tickle her skin, causing goose bumps to break out all over her damp flesh.

"John, it's cold!" she protested as the gusts got stronger, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Sorry," he murmured, frowning as he concentrated. "Let me just fix that..."

He raised his arm higher and tongues of fire flickered to life around him, the blue flame curling around his forearm and shrouding his hand. The blaze wavered in the wind, the heat pouring off his fiery limb to gently warm her body.

"That feels amazing," she said with a soft sigh, turning to let the sultry air sweep over her.

It didn't take long to evaporate all the water droplets, leaving them standing clean and dry on the riverbank.

Rachel waited until he extinguished the flames, then leaned in for a kiss. "My very own portable auto-drier. Thank you."

"I wouldn't want you catching a chill," he said, leading her back to the picnic blanket and their piles of clothes.

"That wouldn't be so bad. As the ship's doctor, I'd have to prescribe myself a week's bed rest... and I'd need your body-heat to keep me warm," she said, squatting down to pick up her discarded panties. After eyeing the soaked garment, she gave him a wicked smile, then threw them at John. "A souvenir... of the day you blew my mind."

"I thought you did all the blowing?" he asked with a grin, catching her lacy underwear and tucking it into the pocket of his combat trousers.

"I certainly did lots of swallowing," Rachel replied with satisfaction, patting her curved midriff. She retrieved her trousers and shimmied them up her long, toned legs. "So I assume you want me to create some hex-shields for you to train against?"

When John was fully dressed, he reached beneath the hover-bike to retrieve his sword from the makeshift scabbard. "We're going to be fighting lots more Progenitors and I need to practice breaking through psychic barriers. The battle against Larn'kelnar proved one thing; that I wouldn't have stood a chance against him in a duel. For most of the battle, I stood there hacking away and getting nowhere."

"Are you sure your sword is the best tool for the job?" Rachel asked as she slipped on her top, the material stretching obscenely over her cum-packed belly. She rubbed the point on her chest where she'd been impaled by a telekinetic spear. "Believe me, those psychic lances are very effective at penetrating hex-shields."

He nodded, swishing his sword through the air in readiness. "I know there's something special about this blade. My father was convinced that I'd used it to wipe out all the Progenitors... but how the hell am I supposed to be able to do that, if I can't even chop through their shields?"

"Well, I'm at your disposal," Rachel said with a smile. "I'll shield myself and you can practice breaking through."

"No, I don't want to put you at risk. Do you think you can shield an inanimate object instead?" he asked, gesturing to a rocky outcropping near the edge of the escarpment.

She considered that for a moment. "It should definitely be possible; Larn'kelnar was able to erect a hex-barrier around that Eldritch inhibitor."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," John said, looking pleased. "Okay, let's see what you can do."

Rachel nodded and her eyes began to glow with a bright grey light. She held out her hand towards the jagged pile of rocks, then a glowing sphere appeared, formed from thousands of interlocking hexagons. With a flick of her fingers the orb began to rotate, spinning in place around his target.

"I'm all set," she said, glancing his way and giving him a thumbs up.

John squared off against the swirling ball of hexes, tightening his grip on the runeblade. He poured psychic energy into the weapon, making the runes etched along its surface flare with a brilliant light. As the dazzling radiance grew brighter, he could feel the sword responding, raw power building along the razor-sharp edges. Gathering more and more energy, John waited, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the sphere.

He whipped the runeblade around in a massive two-handed cross-slash, unleashing a titanic blastwave that slammed into the protective barrier. The rocks exploded into a million granite chips, the tiny fragments raining down on the ridge beyond the river. John lowered his sword and surveyed the scene of devastation, feeling a surge of triumph.

"Wow... that was easy!" he exclaimed, turning to grin at the brunette standing beside him.

Rachel shook her head and gave him a rueful frown. "I'm afraid you didn't breach my barrier, just knocked it backwards." She pointed to the intact hex shield, which had been driven 50 metres across the escarpment. "The blow was spread out across too broad a surface area. You managed to crack 92 hexagons, but I managed to prevent any from shattering. I suspect a Progenitor probably could have braced himself and avoided any of that knockback."

"I should have known it wouldn't be that easy," John said with a sigh, as elation turned to disappointment. He took up an offensive stance again, adjusting his grip on his sword. "Okay, shield something else."

The brunette picked another chunk of rock jutting out of the ground and enveloped it in her shield. "I'm ready."

It seemed quite apparent that using brute force to batter his way through her defensive barrier wasn't going to work. This time, John activated his psychic speed as he poured more energy into his blade. When he was sure he had channelled enough power into the weapon, he burst into action, whipping the sword around in a dazzling array of slashes and chops. The telekinetic arcs he sent blasting across the ridge were tightly focused this time, slamming into the barrier with the destructive force contained in a razor-sharp projection.

John saw lines of grey hexagons crumbling under his onslaught, but the sphere was rotating quickly, and he wasn't able to land the blows in the exact same spot. Each force wave sliced into the shield in different locations, allowing Rachel time to repair and replace the damaged hexes before he could capitalise on any of the breaches. He frowned in frustration and stopped for a second, trying to get a feel for the speed and direction that the globe was spinning.

"Is everything alright, John?" Rachel asked, turning to study him.

He nodded, a cunning smile appearing on his face as he got a feel for the rotating sphere. "Yeah, I'm just going to try something out..."

Channelling more energy into his sword, he slashed left, then right, and reversed his swing to attack a third time, blasting the psychic barrier in rapid succession. Each of the three strikes was aimed higher on the globe, staggered so that they would all land on the same series of hexagons. He timed the blows perfectly... but at the last moment, Rachel had shifted the direction and speed of rotation, making the telekinetic arcs strike in wildly different locations.

"Hey, that's cheating!" he protested indignantly. "Did Alyssa warn you?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "John... you telegraphed those attacks; it was painfully obvious what you were planning to do."

With a rueful frown, he was forced to concede that she had a point. If he'd tried the same thing against an enemy Progenitor, they would have reacted in the exact same way.

"Yeah, you're right," he admitted, readying his runeblade. "Okay, let me try something else..."

***

It was silent in the sacred chamber, the six Brimorian Lords standing on their ornate stone discs as they waited for the leader of the Enclave to enter. Deep Lord Athgiloi cut a magnificent figure as he strode inside to join them, his fins spread in a dramatic display of posturing.

"We commence this gathering, paying homage to the wild seas," he declared, taking his place on the final stone disc.

The rest of the Deep Pool bowed respectfully, but there was a nervous tension in the air, the assembled lords waiting on tenterhooks for news of the conflict with the Federation.

"Everything has played out as I predicted!" Athgiloi gloated, raising his hands in triumph. "After a century of humiliation, we have finally punished the Terran filth and reclaimed the Callopean Shoals!"

His dramatic proclamation was not met with the rapturous joy that he was expecting.

"What of the Maliri? Is it true they are now allied with the Federation?!" Lord Paotegh demanded, his orange crest twitching nervously. "Will they now enact retribution on the Terrans' behalf?"

Athgiloi grimaced, seething that his glorious victory was being undermined. "Queen Edraele warned me against directing further aggression towards the Federation, but I have no reason to believe that the Maliri will instigate reprisals for our victory in the Callopean Shoals. The alliance between the Maliri and the Federation hinges on John Blake, but I have been assured that he will be dealt with... if he hasn't been slain already."

"Blake is dead?" Lord Sibhaloi asked, his worried expression lifting with hope. "How?"

"I haven't received confirmation yet, but it's only a matter of time. Blake's rival is more than capable of dealing with that irritant... and when the vaunted Lion of the Federation is dead, the Maliri will drift away from their new allies." He gave the members of the Deep Pool a toothy grin. "This isn't the time to be disheartened; we have dealt the Federation a humiliating blow! They're still reeling after the war with the Kintark and they're in no position to take back the territory we reclaimed."

As the mood in the chamber began to lift, Lord Rilosash made a burbling sound in his throat to get their attention. "Deep Lord, my scouts have located Shoal-Commander Coholich's missing border fleet."

Athgiloi rasped his needle-like teeth together with satisfaction. The disappearance of Coholich's fleet had been a serious concern, casting a shadow over the glorious conquest of the Callopean Shoals.

"That's excellent news!" he exclaimed, turning to face the Brimorian lord. "Did Coholich have a good excuse for not keeping us appraised of his current status?"

"Yes," Rilosash replied, his expression turning sombre. "He's dead."

Athgiloi froze with shock. "What did you say?"

"Shoal-Commander Coholich has been slain. My reconnaissance force just retrieved his corpse from the wreck of his command ship," the Brimorian Lord said despondently. "The entire border fleet was annihilated just within the confines of our territory. From the initial analysis of the battlefield, we can conclude that they were ambushed by a huge force of Terran ships. Judging by the scale of the destruction and the trivial number of Federation casualties, Coholich must have been outnumbered at least 3-to-1. The Terrans only lost six cruiser-class vessels to the cost of eight of our battleships, 26 cruisers, 4 carriers, and all accompanying support craft."

"That's impossible! There was only one Federation fleet in the vicinity of the Taxarran Straits and it was no larger than Coholich's force!" Athgiloi protested. "We know their precise fleet dispositions, that none of the obsolete vessels were using captured tech, and even that the force was led by Admiral Kester. The Terrans didn't have anywhere near that many ships along the border!"

"All based on the word of a traitor?" Lord Lithorag asked, his cold black eyes looking disdainfully at the deep lord.

Lord Sibhaloi exchanged a worried glance with the other member of the Deep Pool. "Perhaps the convenient turncoat was a double-bluff?"

"Sacrifice one fleet in exchange for another... and expose our most populated systems to a devastating counter-attack," Lord Baolleraz muttered, sounding both impressed and concerned. "I had no idea the Terrans were capable of such callous subterfuge."