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“I saw someone die that way. When I was young.”
Cherry’s head snapped up, her hands stilling.
It had been four or five cycles after I’d arrived on this world and I had been just beginning to approach young manhood. Garrek, Oaken, and I were some of the first child-convicts to be brought to this province. Back then, we’d all had our own individually-assigned wardens, as we were too young to live alone and needed to be taught how to survive and earn a living here.
“Was it…” Cherry hesitated, worrying her pretty lower lip between her blunt teeth. The rest of her question came out as a whisper. “Was it one of your parents?”
“No,” I said gruffly. “It was my… the old warden. Warden Veran. He was getting ready to repair a fallen post that had left a gap in the fence.”
I hadn’t been far from him when it had happened. I still remembered the silent swipe of the genka’s paw through the gap, the sharp seize of its claws against Veran’s gut. I’d sprinted to him, my knife out of my boot before I’d even blinked, but the genka had already dragged him halfway to the trees by that point.
With his life pouring out of him, getting further from me every moment as the genka pulled him away, he coughed out a stream of hot blood, fixed his dimming white eyes on mine and told me, “Fix the fence, boy.”
I threw my knife anyway. It hit the genka square in the throat. But by then it was too late.
“And you saw it happen?”
Cherry’s lovely voice dragged me from the past and back into the present. And oh, what a present it was. With my wife’s perfect face turned up towards mine so expectantly and my tail safe in the caress of her caring hands.
I must have been lost in thought for some time. My flesh had already been thoroughly cleaned and layered with ointment. White bandages covered the end of my tail in neat stripes, tied off with wing-like bows.
“I did.”
“Oh, Silar.” A single drop of shimmering liquid, perfect and gem-like, spilled from her eye to her cheek. My heart strained in its cage of bones, and before I could stop myself, before I even knew what I was doing, I leaned forward, cupped her jaw, and pressed my mouth to the moisture.
Cherry gasped. I felt her heartbeat flutter like a trapped animal. Cursing myself for the foolishness of pressing my mouth to my wife’s skin in such a fashion, I made to draw back.
But Cherry threw her arms around my neck and held me there.
And then she crawled into my lap.
She settled her slight body there, the hot meeting of her thighs pressing against me. Cock to cunt.
My eyes grew so white that they began to feel scorched inside their sockets. My lips were still hovering at Cherry’s cheek, wanting so badly to roam over her, but not quite bold enough to do so.
Until she gave a soft moan that was a fiery squeeze to my cock and then turned her face so that her mouth brushed mine.
And not just her mouth.
Her tongue.
My whole body spasmed with the erotic shock of it. The wet slide of her tongue against the parting seam of my lips.
“Is that… Is that alright?” she whispered against my damp mouth.
As I was suddenly even more incapable of speech than usual, I did not answer her with words but instead with the reciprocal dart of my own tongue. She stiffened, and then it was as if she melted, her mouth opening in a sigh against mine.
Any thoughts I’d had of restraint, of control, of keeping my foulest urges away from my wife disappeared like a candle snuffed out in the dark. My hands shot to her waist, palming the gorgeous flare of her hips as my tongue surged into her mouth.
But Cherry didn’t pull back and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she arched her spine, pressing herself even harder against me, as if trying to fuse our fronts together. I grimly congratulated myself on the fact that I did not immediately empty my sack through my cock this time. Though I was very, very close.
The inside of my wife’s mouth was sweeter than anything I could ever remember tasting. Sweeter than any of the fruit I grew on the ranch, sweeter than any delicacy I could recall having eaten in childhood on Zabria. Maybe even sweeter than cherries, though I would not know for sure for some cycles yet.
I slicked my tongue against hers like a starving man. And maybe that’s what I was.
I’d been so empty for so long. Waiting for something without knowing what.
And now she was here.
