Chapter Nine

Graven

Her “mountain house”—I don’t know how it can be called just a house. It’s a mansion, a complex, a…I don’t know; it’s enormous. Multiple buildings all situated amid the jungle, outcropping from the side of a cliff that drops down to a huge lake.

All the buildings are made of glass, predictably, like every Fellamana building I’ve ever seen, except most of the buildings in the city are divided into multi floors with reasonable ceiling heights. We fly into the landing area behind the largest building, and it is not divided into floors. It’s one gigantic open space, a ceiling three stories high.

“Wow,” I say, staring as soon as I hop out of the speeder. “That’s a house…”

“It’s a compound, really,” Niva explains. “It fits our whole family when we come here a few times a year. There are thirty-five of us.”

My eyebrows go up. “That’s a lot of family.” I can’t imagine having a family. The concept is as foreign to me as love.

“It’s a lot sometimes. But mostly it’s fun. Especially when we bring guests.” She lifts her eyebrows at me. “Lots and lots of guests.”

I almost choke. “So you’re saying, you come up here for sex retreats?”

“When we send the children off to their fun camp elsewhere, oh yes. The Fellamana have lots of sex on holiday.”

I do laugh this time. “You have lots of sex all the time.”

“True.” She tilts her head. “But on vacation, we have time to be more creative.”

I shake my head, unsure how anything could be more creative than the sex I’ve seen her having every day since I arrived, but I don’t get to ask.

She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the big glass building. “This one is the main arena.”

“Arena?”

She leads me over the threshold, and I stop in the entryway. The walls are lined with erotic art. Beautiful drawings and paintings, not pornographic, but featuring nude people in sex positions that are full of expression and affection and desire. There are group scenes and partner scenes and solo scenes—all of great artistic quality.

I come to one that looks stunningly like Niva—with a sable mane of luxurious hair and an ample figure too full for any lover to ever dream of wrapping their hands around. She’s staring out of the painting with this look of “if you want me, come get me,” but it also has this self-satisfaction, as if she has no doubts about the power she has over whoever is watching and how much she loves it.

“That’s my mother,” Niva says beside me. “Isn’t she sexy as hell?”

I glance at Niva and can’t help brushing her hair back from her face so I can look at her eyes. “She doesn’t have your…” I don’t have words. My ability with description isn’t good. “There’s something in your eyes and your smile, something deep and amazing that no one else has.”

She grasps my hand and kisses my palm. “That’s what they all say,” she teases and pulls me farther down the hall until it opens into the “arena.”

Except it’s not what I would expect. It’s an enormous open space, with viewing galleries along the walls, but the floor is full of exercise equipment. Like it’s a gym.

She spreads her arms. “What do you think?”

I hardly have eyes for the room. As she opens her arms, the robe she’s wearing gapes open. I realize it isn’t secured at all. The loose tie on her waist falls, and her breasts spill out, her nipples hard and crimson amid the blue swirls still dominating her skin.

“Graven,” she scolds in a teasing voice. “What do you think of the room?”

I blink hard and pull my gaze away from her nipples. “Right. Um. Is this the gym?”

“What is ‘the gym’?” she asks.

“You know, like the place you exercise.” I make arm lifting and leg lifting motions. “To get in shape for battle and physical feats like running and jumping and stuff.”

“Physical feats?” She walks toward me with a swivel of her hips. “Like poses?”

“Poses?” I’m starting to wonder what the Fellamana do for exercise, envisioning strange acrobatic maneuvers.

Niva laughs, and it echoes with a brilliant melody in the enormous space. “I will demonstrate.” She marches to the first piece of equipment that actually looks quite comfortable and on second glance I realize, though it’s covered in leather, it’s a piece of furniture, not equipment. It’s a fancy, curving chaise longue.

“This one has lots of uses.” She drapes herself across the curving sofa so her ass is delectably in the air and her knees fall wide on either side, comfortably supported by knee rests. “Or this way.” She rolls over and slides back so that her legs are easily spread, but her head is elevated. “I like this one because then I can watch.” She points between her legs and mimes a cock moving in and out with her fingers.

I choke and try to breathe. “It’s sex furniture?”

“Oh yes.” She turns on her side and slides a leg forward, demonstrating a side pose with the glorious rounding of her hip exposed.

I take a step toward her, wanting to touch, needing to touch. Godsdamn it, for someone who can’t feel, my instinct to grab hold of her is irrepressible. I have to lock my knees and clench my hands to keep from leaping on her.

She quirks her lips in that flirty knowing smile. “Want to see the rest? Or have you decided you want to start with this one?”

I can’t stop staring at the slope of her waist to the S curve of her ass and thigh. “What?”

She gets up and sashays over to another piece of equipment with metal bars and leather pads. “If you’re into gliding, this one’s fun.” She lies across the bench part, rests her legs on the kneepads, pushes off with her hands. Her whole body glides back and forth, her ass in the air.

The benefits are obvious. I could hold onto her hips and pound her from behind, pulling on the glider. All she’d have to do is lie there while I pull her back and forth and fuck her.

Heat spreads through my veins.

I’m hard. If it was coming on slowly before, it’s blatant now. I shamelessly adjust the uncomfortable pressure against my erection in my uniform. Though my skin has no sensation there—well, a little sensation now since whatever she did to me at the Sex Games—I’m aware of the tight pinching constraints of my swelling blood vessels. There’s no sense in even trying to hide it.

“I should get one of these for my office,” she muses, getting off the glider. “It would save my knees a lot of work. And arms.” She glances at me and smiles at my obvious discomfort. “Have you decided on this one? Or did you want to see all the options first?”

I swallow hard and manage, “Yes.”

She shakes her head with a smile and saunters over to a chaise longue with springs. “Are you a bouncer? This one’s great.” She flops back on it and the whole lounger bounces. “You can change the tension so it’s easier or harder.” She adjusts something on the side and demonstrates.

Fuck, her tits do an amazing dance. “I could watch you on that all day.”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “It’s not just to watch, silly. Okay, not this one then.” She walks over to a swing with a pull-up bar and gets in, putting her legs in the straps so her thighs open and give me a broad view of her glistening pussy.

She’s turned on by this. She’s getting off on demonstrating all these contraptions for me.

“Are you a swinger?” She leans her head back and her hair falls so it nearly touches the floor. I can tell she’s into it, but it’s obvious from the way she moves it’s not her favorite.

I point to the next piece of furniture. A very strange number that would look like a chair except it has weird levers and horns on it. “What’s that one?”

She gets up and walks over. “Well, this one’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“It’s the oral chair!”

My mouth goes dry and I try to respond, try to imagine, but I’m too infatuated with looking at her to speak.

“I mean, you can fuck on it, too, but it’s best like this.” She hops on the chair, and I see they’re not levers, they’re footrests. She spreads her knees and adjusts some settings. “It goes higher, so you don’t have to hurt your neck.”

“What are those?” I point to the horns on the back.

“Oh.” She reaches up and grabs them with her hands. “For me to hold on to.” Her shoulders spread, and her breasts lift gloriously, but what’s better, the look on her face says she loves this pose more than any of the others. She likes spreading herself wide open for me.

I cover my mouth, not wanting to drool like an idiot. “Oh fuck…”

“Of course, if you’d rather sit,” she lowers her hands and starts to get up. “There are other adjustments for male—”

“Stop.”

She pauses and raises her brows at me.

“Sit,” I point to the chair. “You like this one; I can tell.”

She relaxes back into the chair, and her eyes brighten to a brilliant sheen. “I do.” She lifts her hands over her head again and lifts her feet back into the stirrups. “You did promise to taste me.” She adjusts her knees over the leg straps and spreads her thighs.

She is a wet, swollen haven, and I’m helpless to resist her anymore. I can’t not come to her. “I keep my promises.” I fall to my knees in front of her.

“There’s a pad for your knees.” She continues her tutorial, her tone breathless now. “And there’s a spreader.”

“A what?”

“A spreader.” She widens her thighs a bit more, and something clicks and notches into place. “I can’t close them without pressing the button there. And you can open me wider, too.” She stares into my eyes with something I haven’t seen from her before. It’s almost like uncertainty, which I don’t understand. I’ve never seen her self-conscious. “If you want.”

“What do you want?”

“Wider,” she breathes.

I press my hands to her inner thighs and push them apart an inch. The contraption clicks again, locking her in place. I keep my eyes locked to hers, knowing if I look at her sweet cunny again, I won’t be able to tear my eyes away.

“Good?” I ask, resting my hands on her thighs, pretending I can tell how soft they are, rather than just having to imagine it.

She bites her lip, and she’s asking me with her eyes for something. She doesn’t want to have to say it.

“Wider?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whispers. I press another notch farther open.

“Another?”

“Yes,” she moans this time, and with one more click, she gives a blissful sigh at the stretch from her groin. “There.” Her thighs start to quiver, and before my eyes, wetness pools there.

I lick my lips. I wonder if I’m allowed to drink her yet.

“Have you been with”—she starts breathlessly—“a Fellamana yet?”

I shake my head, unsure what else her tutorial includes. She lets go of the chair and reaches between her legs. My eyes widen. I guess it’s an anatomy lesson.

She holds back the hood of her sex. “This is my nulba, and I have three—um—I don’t know what the human word is, but I’ve heard the human females have only one ulma but I have three.” She fingers three little nubs at the top of her opening, and gives a little moan and pulse of her hips.

“The clitoris,” I breathe, staring at her hands as she touches herself.

“What?”

“The human word is clitoris.” I’ve never touched one or tasted one, but I know what it’s called and I’ve seen pictures. She has three. I try to breathe and stay calm and not flip the fuck out like a little boy getting cake and eating it, too. Three!

“Ah, okay.” She scrunches her brows and tries, “Clititis?”

“Clitoris.”

She huffs. “Your words are so strange. Why such a hard-to-say word for something so simple and small?”

I chuckle. “I have no idea.”

She gestures for me to touch her, so I do, wishing with all my heart and soul I could feel her swollen, glistening flesh. I’m delicate, terrified that in my lack of sensation, I’ll do something she doesn’t like. “You have three ulmas, you said?” I memorize the word.

“Yes.”

“Inside your nulba? That’s your word for vagina?”

She smiles. “Vagina…I heard you have other words.”

I scan her eyes, unsure if I should teach her the others. “Did your translator teach you cunt? Or pussy?”

She giggles. “The one that’s a cat is very funny. Even though the human vagina does not have claws like mine does.”

“Your pussy has claws?” I choke.

“Actually, they’re closer to teeth, but that is inside.”

Oh my gods. I sit back on my heels.

She pats my shoulder. “It’s all right, human. Don’t be scared. You will like them, but we’ll have that lesson later. Let’s just focus on the ulmas.” She grasps my head and pulls me between her thighs. “You promised you would taste me.”

I shiver and regain my composure. Not that I ever had any. I’m pulsing with lust from my head to my toes, and everything she says makes it worse. Teeth? Claws?

I toss that out of my head for later, like she said. I have too much to deal with right now. Three clitorises! Whew…

“You can lick then, suck them, press them.” She digs her fingers into my hair, her voice gone full throaty, needy, impatient.

I take her hands from my head. “Okay, I will.” But I nod at the horns above the chair, and she raises her arms again with a grateful smile. I have plans. “I said I want to taste all of you. Not just here.” I trace the three nubs of her ulma but move my hands to her enormous breasts and kneel closer to her, drawn to them, needing them.

She lies back, her breath coming faster. “Yes. Please.”

I do what I’ve been dying to do from the first time I laid eyes on her breasts and take a nipple in my mouth. I can’t help a moan of satisfaction and a greedy suck. Gods, she tastes like rich berries and cream. Better. I don’t know what—more like rich Niva, delectable luscious Niva.

I toy with her, flicking my tongue, fast, then slow, sucking her. She arches in to me and calls my name, and I have never heard a more heavenly sound.

Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined this. Not only that she would let me put my mouth on her, but that she would like what I did to her. I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s all an experiment, but I guess I’m doing something right.

She reaches a breaking point and cries out, “The other one, Graven. I have two!”

I startle, having forgotten in my enthusiasm that, of course, I’ve left out her other nipple. I switch and relish that I get to do it all over again, taste her nipple fresh and already plump against my tongue.

I regret my lips are numb to any feeling of her and are clumsy in my lack of sensation, but I make up for it with my tasting tongue and inner workings of my mouth.

She grows restless, her head tossing and moans mounting. “Tell me when you want me to come!”

I lift my head. “You can come like this?”

“Yes, anytime you want.”

This is backward from how I understood it. “You can come when I say?”

“Yes,” she seethes with impatience.

Why would she come when I say? That makes no sense. “But you should come when you say.”

She glances in my eyes, searching for something. “Then I want to come now.”

“Then do.”

She inhales a hard breath. “Pinch my nipples, hard.”

I freak a little inside. I have no idea how hard she wants it. I could hurt her badly, by accident.

She sits up a little. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

I shake my head. “I want what you want. Just tell me how hard.” I start to pinch her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I can’t feel it, so I just watch her face for her reactions.

“Harder.”

I do as she says, and she coaches me, “Yes, more, more…ah! Almost. A little harder. More.” She keens through her teeth and sighs, “That’s it. Now twist!”

I don’t even understand how this can be good for her, but I don’t care. I just love watching her face, her eyes, and she loses herself to the kinds of sensations I’ve never felt. I do as she says, twist my fingers.

“More, more, ah! There, stop…Gods!” She swears something in her language, then her body lights up like I’ve seen her do dozens of times, for other people.

Now she’s doing it for me. Her whole body goes wild and writhes, harder than I’ve ever seen her, and I worry it’s too much.

But before her pulsing light stops, she orders me, still moaning, “Now, my pussy. Lick my—ah!”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I dive between her legs, hoping she never tells me to come up for air. I lavish her with my tongue, drinking down the essence of her that is…that is…gods, if her nipples were sweet, her triplet ulmas and all their dripping wetness are ecstatic tastes. I don’t know if that’s a thing. I don’t care.

It’s better than any sweets in all the universe.

I savor her and twirl my tongue around her nubs, still not quite believing there are three of them. I wonder if her orgasms are triple. Do all three of them go off at different times? Or at the same time? Or is it a multi-orgasm, all at once?

I don’t stop to ask her. Her begging voice spurs me on.

Her green eyes stare at me greedily, watching me work. “Faster, Graven!” she orders. “Higher, there. Yes. Now circles…Mmmm…” She sighs more words in Fellamana I don’t understand.

I wonder she hasn’t come yet and hope she’s not waiting for me again. I pause long enough to say, “Come when you want,” then resume feasting on her.

“Oh, thank the gods,” she praises and her head falls back, no longer able to watch me. “Faster!”

I whirl my tongue over her, as fast as I can, until she screams high enough for the enormous room to echo and ring with her voice. Her whole body lights like a star, blinding me so I have to close my eyes. Her hips pump shamelessly against my mouth in a fierce mimic of the sex act, making me wish my painfully throbbing cock was embedded in her, sensing those claws or teeth or whatever she was talking about.

But something strange and surprising happens.

I suck on her ulmas through her orgasm, and a lighting energy warms my mouth, and my lips start to tingle in the oddest way. My mouth grows hot, my lips locked against her. Her heat coats the inside of my mouth, and I’m helpless not to drink it. I’m unable to let go; it’s like pleasure fires around my mouth, like she enters my mouth, and gods, fuck, damn. I rub my lips around her, soaking them in her wetness, and it feels…it feels…

I feel! My lips feel something.

I groan against her in unabashed pleasure. If it’s possible for a mouth to orgasm, that’s what this is. The tingling doesn’t spread anywhere else; the skin of my hands still lacks sensation, unable to savor the silky smoothness of her wide-spread thighs as I cradle them in my palms, but my lips… I have lips. That feel her.

Her cries abate; her body quiets, but I can’t stop sucking on her, not wanting this to end.

“Graven…” she sighs and grasps my head, pulling my mouth away.

I moan with loss. I murmur her name with a forlorn yearning. “Niva…let me taste you again. Don’t make me stop.”

“You precious, precious human,” she coos and kisses me.

Her mouth meets mine, and I experience it there, too. This ecstasy of the lips. Hers are plush and soft, so soft, so full and tender. I’m senseless, mind-blown, awash in the feel of her.

I can’t help moaning and pressing against her mouth. She slips her tongue between my lips, and I join hers.

She chuckles at me. “You’re quite the kisser, aren’t you?”

“I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” I don’t know how; it’s so good, so good.

“No, no, it’s fine. Kiss me all you like.”

“But do you like it?”

Her gaze softens, and there’s a warmth inside my chest when she looks at me that way. A strange thing I’ve never felt before. “I love it.”

I kiss her some more. If there’s sensation in my lips, I can feel all of her skin now.

I trace my mouth across her cheeks, and when she likes it, encouraging me, I move to her chin, her throat. I kiss down her collarbone and caress her shoulders with my mouth. I taste her palms and suck on her fingers. I run my lips along her exquisite thighs, which are even softer than I had fathomed.

I kiss her, every inch of her. And she lets me, for as long as I want. Which is to say, a very long time.