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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 58. Chapter 58

I leaned heavy against Garjah, and he gripped my hips with two hands, locking our lower bodies together. Despite being on top and having leverage, and two sets of arms, there was no way I was getting away from him.

Good thing I didn’t want to.

“We don’t have anything to slick the way.” His voice was a low rumble that vibrated against my chest.

“Hmm, guess we’ll have to do something else.” I wormed a hand between our bodies. My shaft was slender beside his, but rigid. He was flexible, the control he had over his shaft amazing as he rubbed in slow pulses until I gripped both our shafts together.

He grunted. “Tight.”

“Mmhmm.” Keeping up the torment, I used the same small strokes he’d used to keep stimulating our shafts. His wide shoulders, so capable of carrying the burdens others placed on them, eased as I massaged them with all the strength I had in my fingers. Knots gently eased, and his breathing picked up slowly as Garjah’s hips got into the thrusts I barely allowed through my grip.

I grinned fiercely as I watched him slowly relax and let go as the arousal I sent through him peaked. This was something only I could do for him. His eyes bare slits, Garjah palmed my face with two hands and brought me down to meet his lips. We kissed, sharing taste and scent, breath and pants and soft caresses for long moments until my balls began to ache. Need growing myself, I eased my hold and started thrusting in counterpoint to his surges.

Garjah gasped, or maybe I did. Pleasure skittered down my spine, and I stiffened. My knees dug into the chair, my thighs clamped around his hips, and I came. Arching backward, one hand on the back of the chair and the other holding so tight to his shoulder it’d bruise, I striped Garjah’s stomach with my pale come.

I panted heavily through the pleasure, the touch almost too much as I kept stroking. Garjah’s growl was growing in his chest. I leaned my head against his shoulder, kissing then licking his salt-tinged flesh. I drew a deep bite in then sucked hard.

“Essell!” Garjah barked. He jackknifed in the chair, and I held on so he didn’t spill me onto the shuttle’s floor. The muscles in his stomach were rigid, and he came in flowing ribbons that coated us both. The salty musk of his scent increased, and I sank boneless against him when he fell back into the chair. I rose and fell on his chest as he struggled for air, but I was too drugged on the pleasure and utter release of stress I felt in his arms to even consider moving.

Closing my eyes, I snuggled closer. Garjah let me relax until I shivered. “We should clean up and get dressed. Your skin is too delicate.”

“Not really.” It was warm outside, so the cool air was circulating through the shuttle. I’d noticed Garjah had no fine body hair like I did. “It’s just the hair on my back getting tickled in the breeze.”

“You do not have hair here.” He stroked a hand down the muscles alongside my spine, and I almost arched and purred. It felt good. I’d have to ask for a massage later.

“I do too. They’re almost invisible though.” Garjah peered over my shoulder. “It is soft, not prickly.”

“Most human’s hair is only prickly if they shave it. On women, that’s usually their legs and underarm. For men, their faces.” I stopped to consider that. “And sometimes their back and chest.”

“Why?” he asked.

I opened my mouth, paused, then closed it. “Evolution. Sometimes it leaves us with weird automatic functions that make no sense.”

Of course Garjah had cleansing wipes in the shuttle, though I had to push Bouncer away when he got a little too interested in the smells ponging off my body when I leaned down to get my clothes. Apparently the wipes got us clean, but they didn’t cover up the scent at all. “Bouncer, no, go lay down.” He was persistent, coming back for more with his mouth open and cloth pushed the cerops away from my lower belly where the soft fur on his face tickled my skin and sent ripples through my muscles.

“We will be there soon,” Garhah sad. “You should buckle back in.”

I was fascinated by the glimpses of the strange animals and plants we passed, but as the time went by, I was forced to accept If ad three wishes, I’d ask for all the time in the world to explore this planet and touch Garjah and be touched in return.

Meeting up with rebels who opposed the government was not on the plan. Then again, nothing had been according to the plan since I’d landed on Ardra.

“How are we going to find the rebellion people?”

“There’s a place they meet, Dytokshun market, and a signal. A phrase you have to say while you buy acoji nuts and a skin of tuber milk.”

Tuber milk? “Do we have to actually buy the things we order?” The expression on my face must have shown my disgust because Garjah chuckled. He shook his head.

“We do not. They will not go to waste, however; giving them away is part of the identification.”

“Oh good. I can give away tuber milk all day long.” Something about the process fermented it, and the one time I’d tried it, I’d nearly thrown it up right there. I’d tried a lot of things over the years, but that was the worst. I wasn’t sure how getting a container of that was considered a gift and not a curse.

I squinted at the map then looked at the lights on the horizon. The city was larger than I expected, but it was still a lone star of lights in the otherwise dark landscape. Did it really scream freedom or was that just wishful thinking on my part?

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Garjah is becoming even more complex as a person than before.  His detailed knowledge of the rebellion could mean he has had an interest in the group for a long time.  It can also mean that he is an active participant in the group.  He seems to trust Essell completely.  I do wonder how the rebels will receive Essell in person. I do appreciate Cia has created characters that continue to evolve in interesting ways, and not remain static once they are introduced. Great writing!

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