Juliette of MarsbyJackson Blacke©
I laid Juliette on my bed and crawled in beside her. She snuggled on my shoulder again. I pulled a light blanket over us and stared at the ocean scene across the room, listening to the waves and waiting to fall asleep.
I've never been to Earth, but I've seen pictures and vids. I guess there are lots of places there that are really like the Atlantis Club holo. Mars really sucks, and being at the club made me feel like I was getting away from it, and that felt good. When I brought Juliette to the Atlantis Club, I didn't know why I was doing it and, even if I had, I probably couldn't have explained it to Frankie. But now I think I must have wanted to take Juliette away from Mars, too.
I woke up before she did. And, like every other day of my life, I woke up with a big, stiff, juicy hard-on. She was still on my left shoulder, and I just wanted to lay there and admire the beautiful way she slept, but my left arm was completely numb. When I shifted position a little to try to get some circulation going, she arched her head back, then swiveled it from side to side. Her arms began to move randomly beneath the blanket. After a moment, her eyes flew open. The wild look in them frightened me. But it disappeared quickly and they almost closed as she smiled lazily.
"What's your name?" she whispered. But, before I could answer, she noticed the flickering candle light and the distant boom of the surf. Carefully, she sat up, and slowly her mouth and eyes opened wide.
I sat up beside her, put my right index finger to my lips to tell her to keep quiet, and laid back down, using my right arm to gently drag her down with me. It would have been easier to use my left, but it was still dead weight.
"Most folks call me 'Stones'," I whispered, "And don't wake Frankie."
"Where the hell am I and what the fuck is all that water about?" she asked in quiet amazement.
So I explained about the Atlantis Club and the holographic displays and how she could never tell anyone about the club or Frankie would kill me. The more I explained, the more interested she got. When she turned to face me and propped her head up on her elbow, her face was no more than twenty centimeters from mine. I could smell her sweet breath and her big eyes reflected the dancing candle flames. Those eyes and their deep green pools reminded me of the ocean that surrounded us. I felt like I could drown in those eyes.
She sat up again, looked around the room and shook her head gently in wonder. Then she lay back down, her face even closer to mine than before, and casually threw her bare leg over mine.
"So, after the mingler, you just picked me up and carried me down eight levels to bring me here?" she asked with a little half-smile.
"And across two subsectors," I added proudly.
"For what? To do nasty things to me that you couldn't have done at that mingler?" She seemed almost hopeful.
"Actually..." I began.
"Or just as some kind of a human trophy?" she interrupted and showed me the prettiest pout on the planet.
"Not..." I said, wanting to deny the accusation.
"Course I have absolutely no problem with being a human trophy," she interrupted again, cocked her head and went back to smiling. "It would be kind of flattering."
"Well, maybe..." I started, having changed my mind.
"Or it could be that you sensed how much I'd love this place and just had to show it to me," she suggested.
"Yeah...." I tried to agree.
"But it might be more sinister," she hissed, opening her eyes wide in the cutest show of horror I've ever seen, then narrowing them to little squinty slits. "Maybe, just maybe, you brought me here to devour me. You could be some kind of degenerate, carnivorous deviant who's going to cut off my body parts one at a time and consume me, little by little, a finger today, a toe tomorrow."
I was busy making mental notes to ask Frankie later about some of the words I'd never heard before. But I got the gist and knew she was joking. So I gently took her hand and started sucking on her index finger.
A lot of other people wouldn't have thought it was very funny. We've never produced meat for food here on Mars. Before the flu, a few rich people who called themselves the "Gourmets" ("gore-crazed", most people called them), imported meat up from Earth.
In fact, a lot of people blame the Gourmets for the hog flu getting to Mars. The twin flu epidemics – hog and Bangkok - killed a lot of the people down on Earth of course. But us Martians thought we were safe. Travelers had to spend time in quarantine at Moon Base before being allowed to come up here. And the ships didn't allow animals or uncooked meat. But, for some Gourmets, cooking the meat was a ritual, and people figure one of them must have smuggled in some raw, frozen meat infected with the hog flu, then gotten sick from handling it or not cooking it enough. Mars never got the Bangkok, but we sure got the hog.
There are three main colonies widely spread across the Martian equator, plus dozens of small ones sprinkled all over the place. Once the flu hit here, in Marineris, the biggest colony, people started trying to escape to the other settlements. Travel was banned, but they managed to get out anyway and, of course, just spread the disease until it was all over the planet. And because the domed colonies were tightly packed, it was really nasty, much worse than on Earth. They recovered pretty quick down there, but we haven't yet, not even close.
So anyway, except for the Gourmets, most Martians, including me, have never eaten meat. I've seen guys killed in knife fights. I've seen arms and legs chopped off. During the famines I ate some of the foulest, ugliest things the plant world has to offer. And I'll joke about anything. But, if I really thought seriously about actually eating any kind of meat, it would turn my stomach a little strange. Let alone eat another person. And especially not a girl as gorgeous as Juliette.
"Are you going to cook me piece by piece, or eat me raw?" she continued, pulling her finger out of my mouth and tracing the outline of my lips.
It tickled, and I raked my teeth across my lower lip and screwed up my nose.
"You're funny," she said with a wide smile. "I think I like you."
We lay there quietly for a while until I broke the silence. "Just before you woke up, it seemed like you might be having a dream, maybe a bad one."
"Could be," she replied, "But I never remember my dreams."
Later, when I knew her better, she told me she had a recurring dream - a nightmare really - in which she couldn't breathe. Either there was no air, or someone was choking her, or something was stuck in her throat. Seemed to me it was a pretty reasonable nightmare here on Mars. The outside atmosphere is really thin, less than one percent of colony standard pressure. Anyone left outside without a pressure suit would suffocate within minutes. If they didn't freeze solid first.
We lay quietly again, looking into each other's eyes, in no hurry to begin what we both knew we were going to do. Then she asked, "Do they call you Stones because of any particular physical attribute?" and pursed her lips slightly.
Shit, I thought, another word to ask Frankie about.
She moved her soft hand toward my crotch and, at the same time, moved her moist, inviting mouth toward mine. I suddenly realized I was still rock hard.
If she was reaching for my balls to see if that's how I got my name, she missed. But she did find my stiff cock. "Ah, I see," she murmured, " ' Stones', as in 'as hard as'. Well, Mr. Stones, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."
Our kiss began slowly and gently as we explored each other's lips and let our tongues get to know each other at their own pace. She held and stroked my cock casually, as if she did it every day. I found myself thinking how wonderful that would be.
I reached for her clit. It wasn't hard to find. It was huge, not quite the thickness of my little finger, but close. And so stiff it felt like steel with a thin covering of skin. She sighed deeply when I found it. Then she moaned loudly as I rolled it between my thumb and forefinger, and her free hand grabbed my wrist to encourage me.
"You've got me pretty excited," she whispered. "You're such a naughty boy. I just met you, and already I'm desperate for you to make me cum.
"Actually," she warned, "I'm that way with a lot of guys, so don't think you're anything special." But I already knew she was telling the truth about the first, and lying about the second.
"Trouble is, my pussy and ass are still going to be a little tender from last night. I'd ask you to eat me out, but I've probably got sperm from a dozen guys still drooling from my cunt. So, if you just stroke me off, just finger my clitoris and lick my nipples, I might give you the blow job of a lifetime....maybe." She opened her mouth suggestively.
I had to think about that one for about a nano-second. Actually, not that long. Her glossy, bright red lips framed a perfect, moist, pink tongue, which was pierced by nine tiny, glowing, deep pink studs arranged in a heart shape. If I hadn't already been hard, the thought of that mouth on my prick would have stiffened me instantly. As it was, my cock got so swollen, I thought it would rip apart at the seams.
I did exactly what she asked, of course. Her nipples were as rigid as her clit. I circled the areola of one breast with my tongue, then nibbled the nipple with my lips. Then I sucked on it. Meanwhile, I rolled the other nipple between the fingers of one hand and stroked her clit with the thumb and first two fingers of the other, as if I were jerking off a tiny prick. After a little while I moved my lips to her other nipple and switched hands so that I could continue to work on her clit and other breast.
I'm ambi-whatever-it-is and Juliette seemed to enjoy my skills a whole lot. She groaned and grunted her appreciation. I was pretty sure Frankie could hear her. He wasn't likely to be still asleep. But, although I'd obviously never brought a girl to the club before, and he clearly wasn't thrilled that I'd done it this time, I figured I could rely on him to pretend to sleep through our little early morning exercise.
Juliette's legs spread wide, back arched and weight on her shoulders and the balls of her feet. Her hips writhed slowly in sensual pleasure, like she was fucking an imaginary cock. She tightened her grasp on my wrist and gripped my forearm firmly with the other hand as if she was afraid I would leave her sweet, throbbing clitoris untended. Her orgasm came quickly and surprised me with its sudden intensity. She seemed to lose conscious control of her body and jerked and spasmed like she was possessed by some inhuman pleasure-demon. She let go of my forearm and grabbed a pillow to muffle her wordless shrieks of bliss.
When she was done, she peeked out from behind the pillow and smiled at me, a little bashful smile at first, then a big, broad satisfied one. And then, suddenly, she disappeared under the blanket.
I felt her caressing my cock gently with both hands. Her warm, wet tongue licked the base of my rock-solid tower, then slowly moved up the length of the shaft. The studs sliding along the tender underside of my stiff meat sent waves of pleasure rippling through my shuddering flesh. Now it was my turn to groan in ecstatic joy. I knew I wasn't going to last long. I felt her lips nibbling on my puffed-up cock-tip. Then she eased the rest of the head into her mouth and started sucking, and I almost screamed. My body got all tight and I clutched spastically at the bed clothes.
She gave me a moment to calm down a little and then began to slide the shaft into her hot mouth a few millimeters at a time. It was such a slow tease, promising so much pleasure, but making me wait so long for it, that it seemed like the cruelest torture a girl could inflict on a guy. Instinctively, I put one hand on her shoulder and the other on the back of her head, positioned to shove her mouth the rest of the way down onto my prick.
When she felt my hand on the back of her head, she reversed direction and began to gradually allow my hard-on to slide out of her mouth. I instantly figured out that she was showing me that she was in total control of both me and my cock. And right after that I realized how sexy it was to be completely in her power. "You nasty little bitch," I murmured as I moved my hand from her head, relaxed and began to enjoy the delicious torment she was putting me through. But I still knew I wouldn't last much longer.
Now she began to swallow my aching erection again, a little faster this time, but still pretty gradual. Her mouth opened and closed and her tongue worked back and forth as she took me deep into her throat. I'm not huge, not really monstrous or anything. But I am bigger than most guys and no other girl had ever gobbled my whole cock. Juliette did though. And she made it seem nice and easy, as natural as eating a banana. She never even came close to gagging. By the time she was done swallowing, her lips were pressed hard against my balls and pubic hair while she rotated her mouth back and forth around the shaft, driving me absolutely wild.
If my prick had been a volcano, it would have been shooting out sparks and ash, blowing steam and shaking the ground for miles around, letting everyone know it was about to have a big time eruption. Well, I didn't see any sparks or ashes, but there was probably steam coming out of my ears and my body was shaking enough that I'm sure that at least one sweet girl could predict my eruption.
When a bim gets a big cock that far down her throat, she can't even breath through her nose anymore, so Juliette had to pull back far enough to get a big, deep breath. Without warning, she quickly plunged her mouth down on my cock again. As my stiff meat slid along her tongue and back into her throat, it seemed to buzz and quiver with excitement in a way I'd never experienced before. Suddenly, the realization exploded in my bliss-filled brain: those nine tiny, pink, glowing tongue studs were in fact nine tiny, pink, glowing, battery-operated vibrators. And she'd just turned them on. Arranged in a fucking heart shape. How slutty is that? "Oooh, shhhhhiiiiiit," I groaned.
By the time her lips reached the base of my prick again, the volcanic pressure in my balls went overload and I erupted with an orgasm more intense and longer-lasting than anything I had ever experienced without the aid of 'phro-mone or mind-altering drugs. I felt my balls and stomach muscles convulse to explode each hot, powerful spurt deep into Juliette's welcoming throat. And, as each huge slug of cum sped down the shaft of my prick, an intense pulse of pleasure shot through my body.
Now I did push down on the back of head, hard and with both hands, trying to force myself even further into her mouth and throat. And she didn't resist. In fact, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, wrapped one arm around the small of my back and grabbed my ass with the other hand, desperately trying to get me impossibly deep. I sort of think she came again, too, without any physical stimulation, just from the excitement.
I came for so long, she ran out of breath before I ran out of sperm. I felt her trying to lift her head and took my hands away. As my cock popped free of her mouth, I heard her gasping for air. My last squirt of cum must have caught her in the nose because, when her head came out from under the bed clothes, there was a big gob of jism which looked like it was dribbling out of her left nostril, as well as a even bigger wad oozing out of the corner of her mouth and drooling down to dangle from her chin in several long, sticky, interconnected strings.
She looked ridiculous, nasty and gorgeous, all at the same time. But mostly gorgeous. And she knew it.
Frankie, God bless him, must have been paying very close attention while pretending to be asleep. He didn't actually have to pretend for that long because from the time Juliette asked me to finger her off until I finished cumming was maybe five minutes. We were both that quick. But I know he was listening because, within a few seconds of the time Juliette reappeared from beneath the covers, there he was, at the end of the bed.
"Morning, Juliette, I'm Frankie," he said holding out his hand.
She turned to me with a small, crooked smile. Oh, shit, I thought. I never told her that I made up a name for her last night.
"You, know," I said, raising my eyebrows just a little, "My brother. Frankie. I told you about him. And I told him your name when we first got here, while you were still asleep."
She raised her eyebrows right back and looked at me a split second longer, then turned to Frankie and flashed a big smile. An adorable web of my cum still dangled from her chin as she shook his hand warmly.
"Hi, Frankie. I'm Juliette," she said.
And that was it. After that, she was Juliette. Even though she moved in with us at The Atlantis Club, she never told me her real name. And, even though I met lot of people who knew instantly who I was talking about when I described her, none of them knew her real name either.
I must have asked her a hundred times and each time she had a different excuse for not telling me. My favorites were when she said, "My real name is unpronounceable in my current physical manifestation," and the story about being abducted by Earth aliens and having her memory wiped. I think maybe she felt that, in a life like ours, her true name was the only secret and the only thing of value she had left and that, if she gave it up, she might disappear or become nobody, or something like that. Or maybe she just kind of liked me being the one who decided what her name should be.
Names are pretty unofficial at our level of society anyway. There's three levels on Mars. There's the cops and their friends. They run the place and live pretty good. And there's the factory and farm workers and their families. They survive, unless their family's too big, but just barely. The government encourages workers to have large families now because there's so much empty space and unused equipment and farmland. But the government doesn't really support them. They expect the kids to go to work real young.
Then there's the third social level - Frankie and me and others like us - social garbage. Mostly we're a generation of flu orphans. But add in some criminals, some crazy people, the sick, the lazy, the addicts, the misfits and the starving run-aways from farm and factory families that got too big to feed, and you've got about a quarter the population living in the abandoned corners of the colony, without jobs, without rules and without ties to the rest of society. Mostly we lied and cheated and stole to get by.
We didn't really have to steal of course. There's still a shortage of workers on the farms and in the factories. When we got to be eight we could have gotten jobs. We would have had a place to stay, enough to eat, shit-ass hearth care and enough money to get drunk a couple of time a week. But not enough for the bang-bangs, the gliders or the 'phro-mone we thought we needed. Besides, working is hard. And worse, you have to do what some puffed-up, shit-dripping ass hole tells you to do, or you don't get your money. Or you get fired or beaten or thrown in jail. So we stole.
They call us "Buckeyes." Frankie says that's got to do with the fact that, at first, most of us hung out here, in the Ohio sector. But I don't see how that explains anything. What the whiz is a "buckeye"? And what the fuck do they have to do with Ohio sector?
Anyway, I soon realized that Juliette and Frankie had something in common. Something about their spirits. They got along real good as soon as Frankie got used to the idea of having her around, which was pretty much right away. The next year or so was the closest I ever came to being happy. But Juliette and me never had a real exclusive thing.