Nos Faux Ratu Ch. 01

Two took One's lead, pulling his shirt off as well. He was a little leaner, but his body art was nicer, with the goth interpretation of the Old Christians "Last Supper" myth depicted with skeletons in robes rather than Jesus and disciples. She thought it was a pretty cool interpretation. She leaned forward, her hands running up her stomach to her breasts, her nimble fingers deftly undoing the the buttons of her red silk blouse.

"Let me," Two whispered, his less experienced hands moving to her chest as he knelt on the bed before her. She let him open up her shirt, revealing the large breasts barely contained by the lacy red bra. It was a front hook garment, just for partners like this, those with stumbling fingers who might need a little assistance. When he got her bra off, he gasped in pleasant surprise. Her pink nipples stood at rapt attention, and he quickly engulfed one of them in his delightfully warm mouth.

"Oh baby," she crooned, cradling his head as he sucked on her tits. One was pulling his pants down, his seven inches of cock looking to get in on the action. He got on the bed next to her and grabbed her head again.

"Wait," he said, logic entering into his brain for a moment. "Protection?"

She smiled. "I'm immunized against just about everything. Now are you going to fuck my face with that or what?"

That was apparently just what he wanted to hear, and he pushed his member between her lips, letting her tongue drag along the under flesh as he pushed it down her throat. He was encouraged when she did not gag, and pushed himself further down her throat until he was all the way in.

"I had no idea how lucky I was gonna get tonight," he said as he began a rhythm of jamming his cock as far as it would go.

'And the night's just getting started,' she thought, savoring the texture of his flesh and the promise of his seed.

Two pulled away from his scrumptious meal and unbuttoned Nessa's tight pants, peeling them down past her hips to expose the satin thong that was, like everything else she wore, red. She parted her legs so that he could rub her mound through the fabric with one hand while undoing his own pants with the other. He leaned in and kissed her panties, and she pushed her hips against his mouth. He quickly pulled her underwear off and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

'Goodie,' she thought. 'Tongue stud.' She liked a man (or woman for that matter) that was eager to engage in the oral arts, and Two fit that bill. He even showed some skill, though not what she would consider an "A game." A girl has to have standards. But she was sure that he was good enough to provide her at least one orgasm, so that was something.

"Fucking hot," One said, "You like that, don't ya?"

She moaned her agreement. She placed his balls in her hand, fondling them gently. She wrapped her legs around Two's head and pushed her sex against his mouth and tongue. His tongue had penetrated her folds, and his nose pressed against her clitoral hood. She moaned wantonly into One's cock whenever Two did something right, so One began encouraging Two to "do that again."

"She's fuckin' hot!" Two said after dining at the Y for about five minutes.

"Let me get a piece of that end," One said. He pulled out of Nessa's mouth and stood at the end of the bed. Two Climbed down Nessa's body, stopping as he straddled her chest.

She smiled at him, pushing her breasts together around his member. "Fuck my tits," she said. They seemed to like the porn talk, so she would give it to them. His cock, a little longer than One's, poked out at the top of her substantial cleavage. "Wait, let me get it wet first." She sucked on it a few times, trying to generate enough slobber to get it good and ready. Then she put it back between her breasts and enveloped it with their warmth.

One wasted no time, shoving his cock into her sex and driving up to her core. "So tight."

"You say the nicest things," she said, spurring him on with heels to the ass while letting Two titty-fuck her. Her tongue sought out the head of his member when it pushed between her tits, teasing his little slit whenever she could. "I want you to cum in my mouth," she told Two. She wanted him in more ways than that, but they were just getting started.

One was rubbing Nessa's clit, a little more roughly than she normally liked, but it was certainly getting the job done. "Fuck me harder," she growled. He responded by pounding his way home, finding that fine line between pleasure and pain that she loved to straddle.

Two moved away from her tits and put the head of his member at the tip of her lips. More polite than his counterpart, he waited for her permission. Slowly she parted her lips and sucked on the head, drawing him in to her mouth.

"Oh God," he said, her heavenly lips wrapped around his shaft.

'Not quite,' she thought. She loved sex, and she had spent a long time perfected the craft, but she was not a god. Yet. She grabbed Two's shaft and started sucking hard on the head. His body jerked a little as she worked over the most sensitive part of his body with a voracious appetite.

"You're a freak," Two said in a joking and "barely able to concentrate because you are getting the blowjob of a lifetime" manner.

"You have no idea," she replied, then deep throated him, going until she could feel his skin against her nose. She made a gagging noise, but mostly because it seemed to turn guys on and not from any real need or bodily reaction. She pulled all the way out to the head, replacing her mouth with her hand as she withdrew, stroking his shaft until it was time to engulf him again. He had gone down on her, so his blowjob would be extra special.

"But I want to fuck you," he said, his voice temporarily betraying his age. He was probably barely old enough to get into the clubs, and that meant he had probably not even met a woman like Nessa. Not that there were many women like Nessa.

"You will. Oh I promise, you will. But for now --" She stopped talking and started stroking, keeping only the head of his cock in her mouth. Her hand moved faster and faster until he let out a grunt and shot his load onto her tongue. She savored the taste, and the way his hard rod quivered in her hand as it did what millions of years of evolution had taught it to do. When he was completely spent, she let go of his cock with a soft plop, looked up at him with her mouth open to show that she had gotten every drop of his semen, then swallowed it down.

One was made of slightly sterner stuff it would seem, as he was still going at her nether region. Her pussy gripped at his staff as he rammed it into her over and over again. He pulled out, flipped her over, bent her over the edge of the bed, then entered her again. His hands grabbed her hips, and he was able to fuck her with even more vigor than before. Two leaned up against the headboard, watching with lusty eyes as his friend fucked this fabulous female.

"Harder!" she growled. "Fuck me like you mean it." She could hear his labored breathing and could tell he was going as fast as he could. Her eyes were drawn back to Two's shrinking member. 'Can't have that,' she thought. She pulled him towards her and began to suck again, much more gently this time.

"I don't think . . . think that I can --" Two started to say, but his objection was cut off even before it finished. Slowly, she was coaxing him back to life. "That's impossible," he murmured happily. "I never get hard again that fast."

"You need to hang out with a better class of lover," she told him, then sucked him in again.

"I don't think there are many women in your class," he responded, stroking her gorgeous red hair.

She smiled. She was beginning to like Two.

One pushed all the way inside of her. "Fuck, I'm blowin'," he grunted, then shot stream after stream of his seed into her womb. "Fucking fantastic!"

Nessa was vexed. Not because One had gotten off, as she rather enjoyed feeling a man cum inside her, but because SHE had not achieved release yet. It was time for more serious measures. She pulled away from One, then straddled Two's hips and lowered herself onto his now-ready cock.

"Good grief," Two said as her clean shaven pussy came to rest on her young lover's body, "she's insatiable."

"You're just now catching on to that? You," she said, looking at One, "come here."

One stood on the bed and quickly found his cock back in Nessa's mouth. He was almost as surprised as Two when he discovered her ability to keep him from going soft. He let out several small hisses, as his rod was somewhat sensitive, but he did not seem to mind at all. In no time at all, he was stiff as a board again.

"Check the nightstand," she told him as she bounced on his friend's cock. "Give me the bottle in the drawer."

One looked confused, but did as he was told. He looked up and grinned, a bottle of lube in his hand. "So you've been here before?"

"A time or two," she replied, wiggling her eyebrows. She looked down at Two, who was pretty much just enjoying being ridden, though his eyes seemed captivated by hers. He reached up and stroked her face, touching her lips. She sucked on his fingers, one at a time. 'This one is going to be a good lover to some lucky girl,' she thought. 'Or some guy.'

She took the bottle of lube and slathered it on One's cock. "Now, do I really need to explain what you're supposed to do next?" she asked, glancing back and her heart-shaped ass. as she rode Two like a saddle.

"You mean . . . Thank you God!" he said, his pseudo-cool demeanor breaking as he realized that he was about to live out a fantasy. He quickly maneuvered himself behind her. He started to push his cock hard into her ass.

"Easy sugar," she said, "take it slow. You don't hurry when your parking a freighter in a narrow dock."

"Got it," he said.

She felt lips on her tits again, with Two unable to resist the bouncing melons dangling in front of him. "It's okay to bite," she told him. "Gentle . . . gentle," she said as his teeth slowly clamped down on her nipple, and she sighed happily when he reached the right amount of pressure. Two was a quick learner, squeezing the other nipple using his fingers with the same firmness.

Nessa was pleasantly surprised when she felt One finally ease his way into her tight ass, then he celebrated with a light slap on her ass flesh. "You know how to treat a lady," she told him, encouraging him to play that game a little harder. Actually, Two was far more of a "gentleman" than One, but One had found one of her favorite things. With a cock in her pussy and ass, she let the two of them develop a rhythm all on their own. Two continued to tease her tits while One spanked her as he kicked her backdoor open.

Finally, they brought her to a place of pure pleasure, and she howled like a madwoman as her climax raced through her. Neither man was able to move much as Nessa claimed the orgasm, riding it like a wave until she crashed into the shore.

"About time," she whispered, letting her body rest on Two's while One plowed her ass again. The slaps to her ass continued, and it encouraged her to grind her hips, much to the delight of both men. She pushed herself back up with her arms so that Two could attend her tits again. She rubbed her chest against his mouth, teasing him with one nipple and then the other.

"Fuck it," One said, his movements becoming jarred and uneven. "I'm gonna --"

"Less talk, more spunk," Nessa interrupted, then thrust herself back so that he was all the way in her ass when he came. She wanted it all. "Cum for me," she whispered to Two, clenching his rod with her vaginal walls, willing him to give up his essence. He obliged almost instantly, arching his back slight and driving up into her, letting himself be milked by her sex.

"Told you I'd show you a good time," One said to Two.

Two had eyes only for Nessa. "I've never met anyone like you."

She smiled. "There aren't many like me."

"I'm not sure I can go again," he said.

Nessa waited until both had pulled out of her, before pushing them both onto the bed. "I'm sure there's something else you can do for me," she said, her voice and her eyes showing her hunger for what it was.

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Elsewhere in New Atlanta . . .

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Jenna was tired. She and Nigel had spent all night researching the woman who had approached her, and they had not gotten far. Jenna had a few ideas that she would pursue the next evening if there were no missions, but that was hard to determine. For now, she needed sleep. Nightwalkers only required four hours of rest a day, but those hours were important.

As was her norm, she checked to make sure that she was not followed home. No one she worked with, not even Nigel, had been to her personal sanctuary. She wondered what they would do if they saw it. She ascended the steps to the heavy door of the old gothic style church that sat nestled between a couple of warehouses in a district that had been reinvented several times in the last century. Most modern religions had gone on-line in the early 22nd century, so the churches themselves had become not much more than pretty scenery. She had gotten this one at a heavily discounted rate. It had a history, and the owners had been desperate to unload the land. They were surprised that she had gotten it legally designated as a residence, but had not asked questions. That was good, because she would not have answered them.

She utilized the eye scanner, fingerprint scanner, then entered the 32 digit code that unlocked the front door. She quickly stepped through and sealed the door behind her. She was in a small entryway blocked on one side by the door and on the other side by another set of doors. This time, she repeated the eye and fingerprint scan, but this second line of defense also required a breathalyzer identification test. She passed the second of doors and reached the final layer of personal security.

After the second door, there was a smooth circular platform surround by black, shatter-proof glass. She waited while the system did a visual identification sweep.

"Identity confirmed," came her security system's synthetic voice. The entire glass tube lifted up, exposing the rest of her abode.

Jenna had cleared out all the pews and religious trappings immediately after acquiring the property. Now, in the center of the room, was her living space. There was a sleeping container made of high-density, nigh indestructible alloy, a standing shower stall, a computer desk with three monitors hooked up to the central server, and a standing safe for her weapons and other personal effects. A small efficiency kitchen was nearby, consisting of stainless steel appliances.

The layout was unusual enough, but the lead-in was even stranger. The living area was surrounded on all sides by a glass maze. Well, glass was a bit of a misnomer. Actually, they were ClearSteel walls, and they could withstand just about anything thrown at them. And to make matters more interesting, the walls moved on a set of rails, and the walls went all the way up to a literal glass ceiling twenty feet up. At the entrance to the maze was a pedestal with a button on it. If she were to attempt to enter the maze without hitting the button, the maze would seal off and she would be trapped in place for twenty-four hours.

She walked up to the button. Once she hit it, the walls would form a unique maze and she would have five minutes to reach the center. If she dallied or backtracked or made otherwise inefficient use of her time, she would be sealed in for four hours. There was an emergency command release, but she would never use it. This was practice for her. If she was not strong enough and smart enough to make it on her own, then she deserved to be trapped and get four hours of poor sleep on a concrete floor.

Jenna hit the button and waited for the countdown.

Three . . .* the mechanical monotone began.

Jenna stretched her neck.

*Two . . .*

She got down into a sprinter's stance.

*One.*

Jenna took off. Typical left-hand heuristics did not work on a maze where the destination was in the middle. She could afford no repetitions or unnecessary backtracks. She pushed all superfluous thoughts out of her mind, freeing up processing for spatial and navigational memory. No need to think of the clock . . . either she made it or she did not. Never slow down. Never fear the consequences.

She reached the interior unscathed and hit a button that matched the one at the entrance, terminating the sequence. No mechanical voice came on to congratulate her. Only fools and cowards needed to pat themselves on the back. She did grant herself a long, deep breath, driving any tension out of her body. Well, most tension anyway. She opened up the six-foot safe and put her weapons away, then stripped off her armor and bodysuit. Finally, she stepped into the shower.

This was Jenna's favorite time of the day and one of the few pleasures, besides daily coffee with Nigel, that she allowed herself. Every day, she thanked the stars and the memories of the creators of indoor plumbing for the gift of hot running water brought into the home. She stood under it far longer than was required simply to become clean, feeling every drop as it flowed over her skin.

Finally, she forced herself from that watery caress, dried off, then sat herself in front of her monitors. She had some more research that she wanted to do.

"Smoke and whiskey," she murmured. She started scanning the databases for arrests and confiscations of contraband. Despite Nigel's assumption, she knew the smoke was not from building fire or burning wood. It had underlying tones that were almost sweet. And the whiskey lacked the chemical odor of modern synthetics. It smelled like a punch to the gut. "How the heck did people ever bring themselves to drink that?" she asked. The computer stared back at her.

After a while, she had it narrowed down to Old Five Points and downtown, or at least that was where most trafficking of banned substances occurred. But the woman obviously had wealth, so she could be off the beaten path.

"No," Jenna said, speaking aloud to herself. "She came after me herself. She didn't send someone. She likes being mixed up in things, not observing." She leaned back. One of the many talents which the Nightwalkers had helped her develop was her ability to act as a cognitive chameleon, putting herself in a culprit's head. But she knew so little about this woman. Only that she had antiquated tastes, was likely to be considerably powerful, and that she was beautiful.

"Not that that matters," she told herself, rubbing her eyes and laying down in her sleeping tube. The lid closed over her, depriving her senses of any stimuli. In a world of noise and pain and evil, this was her haven . . . her sanctuary. But while her eyes did not see, her mind could still imagine, and she imagined those twinkling green eyes staring down at her, promising that they were not yet done. But heavenly eyes soon gave way to much less pleasant images, as Jenna began to dream.

"I thought you were ready to say Grace," He said, His voice hard and sharp. "You told me you were ready."

She tried not to cry, because she knew that He disapproved of crying. He claimed that tears were proof that women were the weaker sex.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her head bowed in shame. "I did not mean to fail you."

"It is not me you failed," He told her. "It is the Lord. You have a mouth so that you can praise Him, yet you let the Devil control your tongue. This shows me that your will is not strong enough and your heart is lacking in purity."

"I won't let it happen again," she replied.

He lifted her chin. "I know you won't. Do you love me?"