Women of Steel 2: Martini on the Rocks Page 6

“I’m going to take your ass, and then I’m going to finish in your pussy. That’s what the condom is for.” He indicated the chair. “Take the position. You remember.”

  Legs and everything between them trembling, Marti stumbled over to clutch the high back of the kitchen chair. Her fingers closed over the wood in a white-knuckled grip. Breath hitching, she leaned over, presenting her ass to Den’s hot gaze.

  He moved up behind her. She felt him pressing along the length of her back. “Make sure your nipples are pressed between the slats. I want to be able to get to them while I’m fucking you.”

  Marti, braced for his attack, jerked at the touch of feather light kisses falling on her shoulders and down her back. Hands followed, pressing and smoothing, painting invisible patterns on her sensitized skin. He blew on her shoulders, licked her freckles and whispered, “I love these honey spots. One day I’ll count them and give you a kiss for each one.”

  As he spoke his hands coasted down and parted her cheeks. A marauding finger probed at her dark sealed entrance.

  Marti glanced fearfully over her shoulder. “I’m scared.”

  His hands stilled. “What were the points I tried to drive home with that spanking?”

  She cleared her throat. “That I was to believe you, to trust you… to respect you…”

  He laughed. “Scratch that last. That was anger talking. But the other two, Marti -- those are the important points. Do you believe I love you?”

  “I’m beginning to.”

  “Thanks for the honest answer. And do you trust me?”

  She thought hard about that. “Yes.”

  “There’ll be some pain. Not enough so that’s all you feel. Think of it as a bright, burning border to pleasure so smooth and destroying it has to be contained.”

  She swallowed in trepidation. “You make it sound… alluring.”

  “Not as alluring as it feels, I promise.” His hands returned to her cheeks and pressed out. “I’m going to take you with my fingers, first. When you feel me pressing against you, push out. Then just relax and enjoy the ride.”

  She nodded, bracing herself to accept whatever he dished out. Following his instructions, she pushed out as soon as she felt pressure and his first finger slid in so smoothly she was lulled into thinking the rest would be easy.

  In and out, deeper each time, his finger glided through her dark, tight tunnel. Squirming against the chair, she twitched as little explosions of bewildering sensations erupted along her untried passageway.

  The inward glide was… uncomfortable, yes, but before it actually registered as pain, he was slipping out and that was… unspeakably nice.

  More pressure. What? Oh, a second finger. That hurt a little more. In contrast, the pleasure increased, too.

  She moaned.

  “Oh babe, you’re so tight and hot. You are scalding my fingers. When I get in here it’s gonna be heaven! First, though, I have to loosen you up. You’re too tight to take my cock right now. You need an orgasm or two before we start in earnest.”

  “Or two? To get started?” Marti gulped.

  “Yeah.” Den leaned on her, pressed her into the wood of the chair. His free hand came up to play with her nipples through the slats. “I wish I could get my lips on those ripe little berries. You can believe I’m going to devour them when I’m fucking your pussy.”

  Heat pooled in her womb, slid out her lips and down her thighs. She pushed back against the two fingers spearing her ass, needing a deeper stroke, a firmer touch.

  “That’s right, lover, you’re feeling it now.”

  “Oh yeah, oh yeah, I’m feeling all right. Can you give me more?”

  His fingers stilled. Against her back, she felt his heart pounding. A sigh wafted over her shoulder. “Shit, babe, I thought you’d never ask…”

  Her nipples chilled when his fingers retreated. Her back did the same when he pulled back. Soon she felt a blunt, heavy presence at the puckered sphincter guarding her last virginity. “Remember what I said, push out hard!”

  He began to press in.

  Marti reared in shock. Matrix, he was huge! Too big. She couldn’t take him! Her mouth opened in a loud cry.

  “Push out! Push, Marti, I’m coming in…”

  Fire raced up her sheath, burning like acid. Her legs wobbled as her knees weakened. God, it hurt! She opened her mouth to beg, to demand he pull out but nothing issued. Tears clogged her throat, stopped her voice. Just when she thought she would faint from the pain, it ceased.

  “I’m in, honey. All the way.”

  “I can tell,” she gritted out, panting beneath his still body. “Don’t you dare move!” She catalogued her body, noting every twinge and pain. “I feel fucking split in half. How are we going to get you out of there?”

  “Oh, out is easy.” Denzel began a languid withdrawal, his hips pulling back in slow increments. Pleasure blossomed in her channel, a pleasure previously un-encountered and therefore immeasurable. “Yes, you like that, don’t you?”

  “Oh Matrix, yes!”

  “In is the difficult part. We’ll have to give you something else to focus on.” So saying, he brought a hand to her mound, used two fingers to part her labia and delved for her clit. Pinching the knot between his thumb and forefinger, he tugged and twisted. At the same time, he began the slow journey back up her clenched rectum, forging his way deep into her bowels.

  “Arrghh!” Marti screamed and didn’t know which she gave voice to -- the pleasure or the pain. Both pushed the extremes of their limits, intense and frightening in their power. While she fought for breath he withdrew, gliding out on a wave of pleasure so rich it glutted her.

  In. Dark pleasure edged in bright pain.

  Out. Pure sensation flooding every receptor and nerve in her body.

  In. Again and again until her mind unraveled and she keened for mercy.

  “I’m going to speed up now, lover. This has been the introductory seduction. Now, I’m going to fuck your ass properly. Are you ready for me?”

  Her mind took that moment to split in two. One half screamed “No!” as ardently as the other was chanting “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  Plunging his two middle fingers up her pussy, he used his thumb to thrum her clit. His forefinger gathered the flowing juices and swiped the hooded knot, making it easy for his thumb to slide over the slick surface.

  “Silence is consent.” He increased the motion against her clit and began to pound into her, scoring her ass with lightning on each entry, bestowing ecstasy with each withdrawal. “Darlin’, you’re so tight. If only you could feel what it’s like, fucking this snug ass of yours, driving through heat and fire… Matrix, it’s good!”

  “Uhhghh!” Marti grunted, voice bled away by the sensations bombarding her. Pain, pleasure, heated friction… she wallowed in them all. Den was right. The pain bordered the pleasure, made it endurable. Or was that the other way round? She didn’t care.

  Screaming, she came and came, bucking against him, her back bowing as she shuddered and shook. Her legs gave out and he was there to catch her, hands whipping up to catch her hips and hold her as he dug in, big and hard and hot in her tiny pucker.

  “Yes!” he shouted, following her down the glittering corridor of rhapsody, his cock spewing jets of life into the tip of the condom.

  Almost insensate, Marti drowsed as Denzel carefully detached himself from her swollen ass. Head lolling against his shoulder, she contentedly allowed him to carry her to the shower. He sat her on the closed toilet seat and ripped off the used condom, tossing it in the trash.

  Her submissive state remained as she stood stoic and still while he washed every inch of her, inside and out, and then applied the washcloth to his own body.

  Languidly, she lolled against the shower wall, eyes tracking his deliberate movements as he reached for a towel. “Uh-uhm…” She cleared her throat. “You planning to do… er… that often?”

  He looked up with a wicked grin. “Just about every time I fuck you.”

&n
bsp; “Oh.” She glanced down then glanced shyly back up at him. “Okay.”

  He was beautiful when he laughed.

  “You’re still hard.”

  “I’m still hungry.”

  Marti’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “You’re kidding. That was like… uhm… dinner or something.”

  He looked up from drying his feet. “A four-course meal, I agree. But I’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He tossed the towel to the floor and swept her up in his arms. In the bedroom, he threw her onto the mattress and followed her down. “I want dessert.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I have a secret.”

  “Oh yeah?” Denzel rolled over and pulled Marti against his chest. It was late in the evening cycle and he was still sleepy. “What’s your secret?”

  “If you’re nice, I’ll share it.”

  “How nice do I have to be?”

  She whispered in his ear.

  Laughing, he flopped over onto his back and spread his legs. He pressed the right side of his left thumb with his left middle finger. Almost immediately, his cock rose like a helium balloon, filled and hardened until it jutted toward the ceiling.

  With a gleeful chortle, Marti mounted him and quickly rode him to completion. He helped a little at the end, but she didn’t mind.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “You complaining?”

  “Not on your life!”

  “Good. Expectant mothers need their stimulation, you know.”

  “I didn’t, actually, but I’ll make a note to be around long enough to take care of that.”

  Marti looked at him out of her beautiful blue eyes, a wary expression on her face. “How long do you have in mind?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He scratched his chest, missing his hair. “Till the stars dim? Till we’re old and gray? Maybe a little longer than that.”

  She blinked a few times. She did that when she was thinking. Coming to a decision, she threw her arms around him and snuggled close. “Okay.”

  He hugged her back. “All right, then. You ready to share that secret now?”

  Slumped in lazy content, she shared what she’d told the doctors to withhold from everyone.

  His mouth fell open. “Two? Twins? Matrix wind true!” Unashamed, Denzel bowed his head against her shoulder and cried.

  Satisfied her news had been sufficiently shocking, she moved on to another long-held grievance. She poked his shoulder to get his attention. “Another thing, bud… You got the song wrong. You remember, the Hercules thing?”

  He faked affront. He’d known the lyrics weren’t right. Trust her to go back and double check. “No, I didn’t.”

  She nodded sagely. “Yep, you did!”

  “Oh yeah? Prove it!”

  She did. Her light airy soprano was dead on key and pleasant to listen to. Denzel smirked. Then he smiled. Then he cried and held her and told her she could have his lab coat and his trousers for her correction. Her version was wrong too, but he loved it.

  My Denzel

  My Denzel, hero of song and story.

  My Denzel, winner of recent glory.

  Fighting for his right,

  Fighting with his might,

  With the strength of ten, ordinary men.

  My Denzel, I feel so safe when near him.

  My Denzel, even the Scarth should fear him.

  Softness in his eyes,

  Iron in his thighs,

  Virtue in his heart,

  Fire in every part,

  Of my M-A-N, Denzel!

  (Marti’s reprise of the theme song of the 1960’s cartoon show, Hercules)

  Epilogue

  For the first time in years, the house rang with laughter and noise.

  By the festooned entry, Thalassic -- her usual uniform replaced by flowing robes -- stood guard over the people she loved, thankful they had all agreed to this family gathering.

  Tequila, flaming red hair scraped back into a severe bun, sat alone, as usual, wrapped in her pain and anger. The posture of her slight figure, half-buried in the deep chair cushions, screamed isolation and withdrawal. Thalassic sighed. She wished she could heal her middle daughter’s heart, yet was pragmatic enough to realize no one could do that but Tequila, herself.

  Denzel, arms laden with the two month-old twins, reclined beside his mother. His dark brown eyes were soft with contentment and love as he gazed down on his firstborn children.

  The High Priestess of Historical Sanctity and Cultural Holiness had abandoned the trappings of her office to sprawl on the floor beside the low divan occupied by her son. Latifah’s slim black fingers fluttered under the chins of her grandson and granddaughter, her shining eyes clinging to the infants’ faces as they chortled and cooed up at their paternal grandparent.

  Feeling a tad jealous, Thalassic watched her friend playing with their grandchildren, their posterity and future. Sadness swamped her. She had never been able to pull off acting so carefree. Latifah’s casualness, her ability to shrug off her title and become a regular mom and grandmother filled her with envy.

  Just once, she wished her children would look up at her and smile the way Denzel constantly exchanged smiles with his mother. She loved them, she truly did. She served Earth, not only because she loved her planet, but because in serving the Repulsion Force, she was better able to protect her treasured ones.

  Somewhere along the line, while seeing to their safety, she had forgotten to be soft, forgotten that children needed gentle words as well as hardened warriors.

  Thalassic swallowed a lump of fear. This gathering had given her a booster shot of hope, but she knew she had a long way to go toward making up for lost time. She had gotten them here, gotten them to meet with her and the rest of the family.

  Darvic, knowing how much she wanted things to go right, tried to caution her to restrain her expectations. He didn’t understand. She needed to bridge the expanse yawning between her and her remaining daughters. Martini and Tequila were all she had left of her five children. Before this night ended, she promised herself she would talk to them, apologize and try to make something better of their present strained relationships.

  Speaking of Marti, she hadn’t seen the new mother since she went to the kitchen for a spice she liked in her hot apple cider. Unable to control the worry rising within, Thalassic made her way toward the back of the house. She didn’t seriously believe anyone could get past the sentries stationed around the perimeter of the Harmon compound, but where her family was concerned, she wasn’t inclined to leave anything to chance. She had some powerful enemies…

  The murmur of voices reached her ears as she neared the hall leading to the kitchen. She relaxed, recognizing her consort’s voice. Her feet slowed as she heard more of the conversation, heard the angry note in Darvic’s voice and wondered who was on the other end of his uncustomary tirade. Unashamed, she hugged the wall, determined to overhear everything…

  “I don’t want you around my son or my daughter. They don’t need the kind of example you’d give them of manhood.”

  Oh, Matrix unwinding, it’s Martini!

  On one level, Thalassic was glad father and daughter were finally having it out. Martini needed to clear the air. Her barely restrained rage had seethed for over five years. Ever since the day Daiquiri and Tequila taunted her, about how different she was from them. They’d blamed what they called her softness on her father -- a man who had not fathered them. In tears, the young girl had run to her, demanding she make her sisters stop teasing. Thalassic would never forget the betrayed hurt in Martini’s eyes when she’d confirmed everything the girls said had been true, except the part about her inheriting her softness from her father.

  “Little girl, modify your tone. I’ll have respect out of you or you’ll feel the flat of my hand where the Matrix laid the padding.”

  “You haven’t earned the right to demand my respect. No man who neuters himself to please a selfish, cold bitch should let the word respect fall from their lips.”
>
  “You’re talking about things you know nothing about, Martini Harmon. You’d better --”

  “And that’s another thing. If you are my father, why don’t I carry your name?”

  “Please don’t play dumb. You know your history as well as I. By order of the Post-Martian charter, your mother’s line cannot die out. All children born to the Amazon strain retain the mother’s family name.”

  Thalassic heard her lover’s voice soften as he added, “The name you carry is a proud one, the proudest. I felt honored when your mother chose me to seed to the Harmon line.”

  “Then why would you do… what you did?”

  “You mean why consent to a vasectomy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t consent, I demanded it.”

  “Because your daughter was such a fuck-up you didn’t want to have another one?”

  Thalassic could hear the frown in Darvic’s voice. “Where do you get your insane ideas? And if you ever speak of my daughter as a fuck-up again, I’ll beat your ass like I should have when you were younger.”

  “What else was I supposed to think? You left when I was young and didn’t come back until I moved out of the house.”

  A heavy sigh preceded Darvic’s next sentence. “Precious as you are, the universe doesn’t revolve around you, Marti. I left because your mother and I reached an impasse in our relationship. She was terribly angry with me for having the procedure done. We fought over the decision, neither willing to give in until I’d had enough. I was determined not to risk her life in another pregnancy. She argued it was her right to make that choice.”

  Marti’s voice held disbelief. “Are you saying Mom wasn’t the one who demanded you have the operation? But, that can’t be true…”

  “Why not? And that’s just what I’m saying. I almost lost her during her last pregnancy. We did lose the little one. That was enough for me.”

  “If she didn’t like your decision, why didn’t she just choose another consort?”

  “She loved me as much as I loved her.” Wonder infused his words. “Amazons don’t marry, but she told me once that she would accept no other lover as long as I draw breath, whether we are together or not.”