PLAYING WITH THE BIG BOYS
Beka Valentine was not sleeping alone. Awoken from a deep slumber but unwilling to open her eyes to investigate further, she still aware that someone was breathing just beyond her right arm. One thing she was sure of was that she was not in her quarters on the Andromeda or even on the Maru, she was someplace outside of space -- on a planet probably. She had no idea of the time; but, at least, the bed she was sleeping in was big and soft and warm and occupied. Who? Where? How?
As she lay there trying to work the pieces of the last night back together, she slipped her feet outside the soft comforter that covered both her and her sleeping companion. She was naked. She was calm. She smelled nice. She just couldn’t remember who was lying beside her. She must have trusted, him…her?…to stay the night. It must have been good. She felt her feet getting icy.
Carefully opening her eyes, the light from a small candle burning in the bottom of a glass jar provided just enough light for her to see blond curls on the back of her companion’s head. She quickly pulled her feet inside the warm covers and planted them icily on small of her companions back.
Of all the responses that this move could have evoked, she was totally unprepared for the one she got. The small man sleeping next to her jumped into the air, taking most of the comforter with him. He turned to her, rubbing his unopened eyes and said, "For gods sake, Hercules, why do you always think that is so funny?"
* * * * * *
It started out as a very bad night for sleeping. Visiting a strange planet, staying in the palace guest suit, Beka probably would have had trouble sleeping regardless. The fact that she had been forced to choose for the last several hours which way to turn her head certainly didn’t help. If she turned it to the left she could hear Dylan snoring through the wall. The captain was sleeping the "sleep of the just," and Beka’s experience with Captain Hunt gave her a fairly good idea of what the he had just done, or just been. The only thing that puzzled her was that the Captain been with Tyr and Tyr didn’t. Certainly not with Dylan! But then, if she turned her head to the right she could hear Tyr pacing the floor. He, too, must have a problem keeping him from sleeping. Might it have been what he just did to or with Dylan? She didn’t want to think about it or them. She wanted to be back on the ship, away from this planet, sleeping where people were supposed to sleep – in space.
She decided that she should go for a walk. Maybe the night air would make her sleepy. At least she would be away from the snoring and pacing; it had to be better than this. She slipped into the High Guard uniform and walked out into the night air. There were three moons overhead, each seeming to be in a different phase. She tried to replay her youthful astronomy lessons to figure out how that could happen. At least thinking about the moon was better than what she had had to think about back in the suite. She sat down on a bench, far back from the edge of the balcony. She didn’t want to look over the sea or the universe. She just wanted to be alone.
She was not happy to see a man walking -- no staggering -- toward her. Fighting off the advances of a drunk was an even less inviting way to spend the night than fighting insomnia. She hoped he wouldn’t notice her, but of course he did. He was taller than the natives of the planet so he must have been a visitor, too.
"Helloooo, I think I’m lost. Do you know the way to Hotel… Hotel…I’m a little drunk and can’t even remember the name of my hotel."
"Sorry, I’m staying at the King’s Palace. Just got here a few hours ago. Don’t know this city at all." She tried not to meet his eyes, hoping that he would go on into the night.
"Hey, I know you. I met you somewhere," he said looking directly at her. Beka tried to remember where she might have met this man, but despite his inebriation he remembered first.
"You’re Beka. Didn’t recognize you with your clothes on."
"Yes, my clothes are on. When did you see me naked?"
"Don’t you remember, in a hot tub. On the Andromeda. I’m . . .
"Evan Hopewell, now I remember. What are you doing here?"
"Let’s say I came here to stop someone from doing something very foolish, but I got here a little too late, I think. I might just have to try to patch a few things up."
He didn’t seem as drunk as she had thought earlier, she wondered if the stagger had been a guise. She remembered what Dylan had said about the planet being bugged.
"So Dylan’s here, too. Staying in the King’s Palace. Does he really think that is wise?"
"You tell me. Why should it be unwise? Right now he is sleeping like a baby, snoring like a bear, so it can’t be bothering him too much."
"Usually he only snores like that. . ." Beka watched as he stopped dead in his tracks, aware that he was about to give her more information than he wanted her to have. She decided to press.
"And how would you know about Captain Hunt’s sleeping patterns?" He just smiled, indicating that what she suspected was probably true, and that it probably was none of her business.
"You drink, dance, name your diversion. It’s rather chilly and open out here, to say the least. How about going somewhere – inside." The librarian was skilled at changing the subject.
"But you don’t know where your hotel is?"
"So, it’s my hotel that interests you. What can I imply from that, Captain Valentine?"
"I guess it means that my memory of a certain night is good enough, that if I had to name my diversion it wouldn’t involved drinking and dancing."
"Nicely put. It certainly would be a shame if I didn’t remember my way back to my hotel, wouldn’t it. But then I also said I was drunk. Why don’t we see if I was lying?"
* * * * *
She had never been in a platinum hotel lobby before. The creature at the front desk handed Evan a golden (probably really gold) disk, which he could affix to any door to indicate it was occupied. She wondered if he took her for a whore and if he rented the rooms by the hour.
"This is a safehouse, or as close as you can get on this planet. There is a constant stream of white light and white noise which blocks the kings eavesdropping," he whispered in her ear, taking time to nuzzle her neck.
"Why is this King so damn paranoid? It can’t just be because he is gay."
"Not paranoid, just likes to watch."
"But he can’t watch us here, right?"
"That’s what they are selling, in addition to warm soft beds and huge gold bathtubs." He sat on the bed and bounced up and down on the springy mattress. One thing Evan Hopewell was not was subtle.
"Pretty nice digs for a Librarian?" Beka questioned, not really wanting to know the answer.
"Let’s say I have friends in high places."
"Am I to assume that you are yet another of the king’s advisors?"
The color drained from his face. "Not quite, Beka. That would make things a hell of a lot easier." A pause while he continued to think. "Ah, Beka, let’s forget about why I am here and think about why WE are here. OK?"
She smiled and removed the jacket to her uniform, then the pants. "What did you say about a gold hot tub?"
I’m sorry it’s not a hot tub, but I have a little toy I have been saving for someone special, and you Miss Valentine are the lucky one."
Evan disappeared into the bathroom. She could hear drawing water into the bath. Removing her underwear she and slipped into a black satin robe Evan had left at the foot of the bed. The man thought of everything.
Evan was lying on the faucet end of the tub; his hair already wet, with a huge smile on his face. His wet blondness was accentuated in the soft blue light that flickered in the room.
"Transfalian light beads. Squeeze them between your fingers and they produce this light for about an hour. I love candles, use them sometimes, but when you want a total effect these are so much better."
Beka dropped the robe to the floor, and stood smiling at the man in the bathtub.
"Come on in, the water’s wonderful. I’m sorry, I should have been a gentlemen and held your hand, to help you in, but you don’t seem the type who would need or demand my help."
She walked over to him naked and ran her hands through his hair. "Whatever you say blondey. Where do you get those curls?"
"Eating crusts on bread."
God, he was cute naked. All eyes and hair and smile, so small and unthreatening, until you remembered what was hiding just under the water. "Aren’t you curious as to what I have in this box?" With Evan it was all curiosity, all mystery, even thought she had seen him with Rommie. She wondered how it would be different with her, and knew it would.
Evan had placed a small Lucite chest on the edge of the tub, which he now opened carefully and revealing two blue spheres encased with shrink-wrap, about the size of large grapefruits. She could read the names Apothecary Botanika and Bath Bombs, but not the smaller print on the labels.
"That Lisa is quite a joker. Improper use of this product will result in just what they look like. Big Blue Balls."
"What?" Beka realized she had been concentrating too hard at trying to figure out what Evan had in the box, or maybe under the water. "And what are you supposed to do with these."
"You sit on them."
"Sit on them."
"Yep," he tossed one over to Beka. "Put it down between your legs. Give it a while, the shrink wrap has to dissolve first."
She didn’t know what was more exciting, waiting for what was going to happen, or watching the face of someone who knew, who was waiting for it to happen to her and see the results. She really wanted to kiss him, hold his hand, touch his flesh, but she just sat waiting for IT to happen.
Suddenly the entire bathtub erupted with bubbles. It was as if someone had turned on a gigantic jet to aerate the water.
"In an era of high tech, we are talking totally low tech. They could have made these back in Ancient Greece. The chemistry is that simple. Just takes a modern woman to figure it out again and give it the proper marketing."
Beka sat motionless as the bubbles caressed her inner thighs and probed deeper. She wasn’t thinking about the bubbles, she was thinking about the fingers of Evan Hopewell. Fingers that had been inside her before. The bomb continued for about fifteen minutes, leaving her even more excited than she had been when she first came to the room. Lisa’s balls had lived up to their name.
"Mind if we move to the bed, Bek, I have this thing about fucking in the water. Always afraid one or both of us will end up drown."
"No problem, but you’d better hurry."
"I have no intention of hurrying, Beka. We have all the time in the world."
"You might, but I. . .
"Trust me."
He softly but firmly rubbed with a large towel, making sure all areas of her body were dry. Using another low-tech device, a large wooly puff, he dusted a softly scented powder all over her body, including intimate areas. Then he blew on a floral scent using a rubber ball atomizer. Where did he find these things? Probably this Lisa lady, whereever she was? Only then did he lead her to the bedroom, where there were actual candles.
"Are you comfortable Beka. I want to make sure you are comfortable."
"Of course, I’m not comfortable. I’ve just had a million tiny bubbles flicking their fingers inside me, I won’t be comfortable until. . ."
"Relax, it will come soon enough."
"Can you guarantee me that?"
"Why do you doubt me?"
He had snuggled on to the bed, close to her, warm and naked. She didn’t remember him drying himself, seeming to have concentrated entirely on her. Evan seemed in no real hurry. He rolled her to face him and began kissing her gently. She grabbed handfuls of his wet hair and interlaced her fingers into it. She pulled him more tightly to her and kissed him hard.
Even before his mouth left hers, his hands had begun their exploration. There was a subtle difference between seeking pleasure and giving pleasure that Evan seemed to have transcended. Even the most skilled lovers she had had in the past seemed unclear as to where that line was, or possibly lacked the desire to even try to find out.
Despite the number of men, and women, with whom she had had sex – would someone call her a slut if she actually calculated the number she had stopped thinking about as other than many? – Beka had private things, personal spots, special touches that she reserved for herself. Someday she had planned to share them with the person she chose with whom to spend the rest of her life, if she ever met him or her; but it was too late now, because Evan Hopewell seemed to have found them.
As the man quietly touched, stroked, nibbled and kissed, her body, her mind and her soul she speculated. It was like he had spent the last three thousand years having sex, with all kinds of species, all sexes, trying things, reading about things, making up things as he went along and now he was doing them to her. And somehow he knew exactly which ones would give her the greatest pleasure. Beka Valentine had no reason; however, to know that what she was thinking was exactly correct.
She had no idea how many times she had cum before he finally entered her with his large penis. Again it was slow and intimate, but it seemed fresh and unrehearsed. She couldn’t explain it. It was like your first lover, only without fear and apprehension. It was as if she had waited all her life to have sex with a man she had picked up on a strange planet just a few hours before. She wrapped her legs around his waist and hoped he would never withdraw. What happened after that she didn’t remember, except that she had slept over and he had just called her, of all names, Hercules.
* * * *
"What did you call me?"
Her comment had jerked him awake. "I’m sorry, Beka. I guess I was dreaming. I’m really sorry. I’m not used to cold feet on my back," he chuckled. "Actually, I’m not used to feet on my back at all, I usually sleep alone."
"Except for this Hercules guy, right, and it does a lot for my self esteem to have you call me the name, I can only assume belongs to some brutish man. Here I had been considering you the expert on the care and feeding of a woman’s fragile ego."
"It’s not like that, Beka."
"Not like what?"
"That name I called you, Hercules. He’s not some big brute. . No, I guess he is, but it’s more than that. He’s someone who meant a lot to me. . .
She could have cried out in her sleep or her climax the names of a multitude of men, few who meant anything to her. Why should she be upset? Had she just been lulled into a fantasy about Evan? One, which she knew from experience, was not correct. Evan had made no attempt to hide his sexual past or his bisexuality, even from Rommie. He seemed to rejoice in it. Should she, too?
"Well, then, I hope you call my name out when you are with him sometime."
"That was bitchy, Beka." It hurt her just to hear him say those words; she was feeling penitent already. "Almost as cruel as your cold feet in my back." A lilt, a spark, made her realize that it was over; the old, fun, loving, Evan was back.
"Then show me how you fucked him." Beka had no idea where the words or voice came from. She had this strange urge to play games with the little man, sexy games.
"What."
"You heard me, Captain Librarian. If you are going to call me by his name, you are going to have to show me what the two of you did to him that made him so damn special. Capish?"
"You …you…can’t be…be…serious."
"I assure you I am, Mr. Hopewell. I want you to show me, now."
"Well, considering he is . . . was about twice your size, it’s not going to be easy. But . . ."
* * * * *
Evan threw back the comforter and wondered how realistic she really wanted to get. With all his experience it was still difficult to figure out women like Beka. If she were truly in for a game of "let’s pretend," he was certainly willing to give it a try. It was certainly going to be different. He hoped it wouldn’t be so different, Beka would decide to stop.
"We traveled together. Buddies. Everyone assumed, either we were just that or he was . . . Shit, Bek, you don’t want to hear this story do you?"
"Right, I didn’t ask for you tell me what you did, I asked to be shown. More specifically, I want you to fuck me, just the way you used to fuck your friend Hercules. None of this sweet romantic female stuff like we did last night. I want it hard, rough, and in my ass."
"Wow!" Evan had not expected that answer. Beka must have had a really tough day at the kings palace yesterday, rougher than he could have ever anticipated.
"Well, it’s like this. Hercules liked to plant his cold feet on my back, just the way you did. Only it was outside, and really cold. He knew it would wake me up. Knew when I woke up, I would be . . . well let’s just say ready . . ."
She had already grasped his engorged penis. "Looks like you are ready now. Or are you always like this?" He didn’t answer. Either with women, or Hercules, he seemed to be always ready.
"I’d wake up, angry that he had interrupted my dreams. I’d figure that he wanted to play a little, but first he needed a few swats on the ass, just to show him who was boss." He waited for some snide comment about him being the boss, but it didn’t come. Beka must be getting into the game. "I’d pull down his heavy leather pants and give him a nice little spanking. His butt would turn nice and red when I hit him. I knew he liked it. Nothing hurt him for very long, and it made him really excited."
It wasn’t the same on Beka’s smooth, creamy ass, but maybe it was better. He hit her hard, not wanting to modify the game unless requested, and she didn’t complain. The color rose like a blush. He knew she was tensing, avoiding the hurt, yet at the same rejoicing in it. The same way Hercules had reacted.
"I’d feel his muscles start to twitch. I knew what he wanted, and I’d bend over and whisper in his ear. . .’I’d love to fuck you Herc, but I don’t have any lube. It will hurt you. You know how big I am. You’re so tight.’"
He carefully tried to read Beka’s reaction as he recited this litany of excuses. There was nothing that indicated that she did not want him to continue or that she was upset by the things he was telling her. She had said she wanted it rough, so he continued.
"Now, this is where you have a definite advantage, Beka. I could just dip my fingers in your moist cunt and have enough lubrication for us to go ahead, but I couldn't with him. So I’d lick my fingers and put them on his dick, rub them up and down while I told him that if he wanted me in his ass, he was going to have got get me ready. Make me moist."
"Forget about me. You’re fucking him, remember. I know how to make you moist. Like this." Beka rolled over and began to attack his cock with her mouth. Right now she wasn’t interested in giving him pleasure, or taking pleasure herself; her job was just to provide lubrication. She was getting the point.
"Get it nice and wet, Herc. Make it slippery," Evan continued the game. "I’d spit on my hands and grab his cock. Run my hands down his shaft, knowing that when he came I could use his own cum for lube. " His hands were now in her moist crotch. Not the hands that had so gently brought pleasure earlier in the night, but rough, fast hands, seeking to attack an anatomical feature she did not possess. "Good thing you have lots of cum for me, Hercules, or it might really hurt."
"You can’t hurt me, I’m Hercules."
He slipped in a finger into her ass, afraid to take her without some preliminary stretching. She moaned and relaxed a little.
"Does that hurt?"
"Just fuck me."
If that was what she wanted, that was what she was going to get. He took her from behind not allowing her to lift her hips to ease the angle of entry. His strokes were hard and long and brought back memories of a time long ago, if only in fantasy.
He continued to call her Hercules, continue to rake his hands on her back, grab her arms, treat her as roughly as he could force himself to do. It was only the actual fucking he modified, and not that much. The moves that would bring pleasure to a man, would do nothing for her, but he knew those which would. He could read her cues and she seemed to be enjoying it a great deal. She did not relinquish her orgasm easily, holding back, reveling in his moves. Hercules had always reacted exactly the same way, knowing that with morning light they would go back to being buddies and heroes and not lovers. Beka did not realize that his orgasm would evoke sadness, and so he hid that too.
"So you liked that, big guy," he said with one last slap on the butt as he withdrew. There wasn’t even a negative reaction to the "big guy" comment; she must have liked it.
She rolled over and kissed him hard on the mouth, trying her best to assume the role of his former male lover. Ms. Valentine was a pretty good actress and was trying very hard to stay in character. He hoped he had been as effective in his role.
He left her dissolved on the bed. She was in the same shape as the Bath Bombs from the night before, a little puddle of Beka to scrape-up and toss away. But he wasn’t about to toss her away. Instead he carefully rubbed her smooth female skin with a floral ointment that would have worked well for the "missing lube." As he deeply massaged her still red buttocks, Hercules seemed to leave the room, replaced by a sleeping Beka.
* * * * *
It was only when she awoke the second time that she realized that the room had no windows. Probably part of the "safe house" concept, which now she remembered from the night before. Evan was lying on the bed, naked of course, propped up on one elbow looking at her with a sly smile on her face.
"You’re fun, Captain Valentine. You ought to suggest that little Hercules number with Dylan. I think he would like it."
Beka had no idea what the guy was talking about. Evan was always fun, if a touch perverted. The look on her face must have been somewhat puzzled.
"You do DO IT with Dylan? Don’t you?"
"Not…well once. He tricked me." She realized she should have told him it was none of his business.
Beka continued to stare at the man on the bed next to her. Part of her wanted to pull him to her and once again begin a sexual ritual that would bring her great pleasure. Yet there was a deep core part of her that was convinced that she had gotten herself into something much bigger than silly little sex games. Evan Hopewell, and other members of the Andromeda crew, surely Dylan, possibly Tyr, and god knows about Trance, were involved in a lot more than a little "outer space nookie." She was playing with the big boys now, and not sure if she even wanted to know the rules.
This wasn’t going to be one of those little sex parties where everyone got undressed, did strange things to each other, ended up going home with someone interesting and the next day treated it as nothing a pleasant memory. These were people she worked with, people she cared for, and people who could be hurt or hurt her.
It was like a pleasant navigation through the slip stream, yet knowing that there were warnings posted on every turn, that if you took the time to read and consider, would cause you to go off-course and crash. Yet, at the same time, perhaps if you really knew what was going on, the trip might be even more pleasant, more exciting.
The look on Evan’s face indicated that he seemed to be enjoying watching her wrestle with her thoughts.
"You know," Evan reached out and touched her gently on the hand. "There are ancient Sanskrit manuscripts that contain illustrations of sexual positions which require that the woman be much taller than the man, with strong leg and back muscles. I’m willing to give them a try if you are, Captain Valentine."
"Sounds completely intriguing, but didn’t you tell me last night you were here on this world to patch something up. Something you were trying to prevent. I would hate to be known as the person who distracted you from your mission."
"Oh, you are so right. It is morning. I am sure that there are more than a few people waking up having to face a snarled matter, that you Captain Valentine do so not want to be involved with."
"But I am, aren’t I?"
"I do need to talk to Captain Hunt, but maybe it can . . .
"This isn’t just about sex is it?"
"That’s the real problem, Beka. Everyone seems to think it is about sex, and it is, a little, but mostly it’s about. . . "
"What?"
The librarian was silent for a few minutes. He was searching for the words the express what he had to say, looking for synonyms in various languages, a phrase with which he might convey to this human woman, who grew up in a time without gods, who worshiped science and prayed through logic, that the problem they were all going to have to face in the next few hours was really one about. . .
"Immortality." He said the word slowly, as if in a foreign language.
"Actually I was having second thoughts about Sanskrit."
She moved over to his side of the bed, kissed him, and wished everything
else would go away.