NOTE:  This and all preceding and subsequent chapters
are copyright 1993 by Milford Ray Slabaugh.  All rights
reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to post this story
to other BBS'es, provided it bears this language.
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                      PLANET OF DESIRE

                        Chapter Three
			  THE RIVER

      Ivan and David looked at each other, as the maniacal
laughter and its bearer moved away.  
     "I thought we were all alone here." David said after a
time.
     "Maybe not." Ivan said.  "We were pulled in by that
electromagnetic disturbance, maybe others have been, too."
He rose to his feet, grabbed his jumpsuit.  "Let's go try to
find that man."
     David and he dressed and went after the voice.  It had
come from a big tree near the edge of the melon patch, but
when they got there, some disturbed leaves were their only
clue.  
     Ivan moved around the tree trunk (remembering as he did
the other tree like this one, and the passion blurring his
mind as he did so), and at the other side, gasped.
     A notebook lay on the ground there, battered and old,
but there.  He picked it up as David rounded the other side.
     "What is it?" David asked.
     "Let's find out." Ivan said.
     The notebook was full of writing and took them most of
the afternoon.  It told them of a colony ship, bound for
Eridanus Zeta, drawn in and near-crashing, the pilot barely
pulling them up at the last minute, dying, but saving his
passengers, colonists from India, Hindustani with all they
needed to survive on this strange planet.  Finding their
crops mutated, all bearing the strange pink spell.
     Told of falling under the spell of the planet, adapting
to it with a resurgence of Tantric beliefs, falling into
near savagery over time.  Told of other ships of people
landing, few or many survivors, and their own adaptations,
though not in such detail as its Hindustani writer.
     Ivan finished it, with a sore voice from the long
reading aloud.  "So there is a sizeable population here."
     "Yes, and those orangelopes used to be watermelons
after all."  David said.  "That was definitely an
exobiologist who wrote this notebook, and we know one thing
now."
     "Yes, what to eat and what to avoid." Ivan said.
     "And what happens every time you eat."
     "Yes." Ivan mused.  The foods were all edible save for
a few poisonous plants, but all of them would be like the
orangelopes, all would bear the strange power to excite the
human body into sexual fury.  What kind of cosmic sick joke
was this place?  It would not kill them, unless their sexual
fury drove their bodies too hard.  But how to ration food,
and air, and water, all of it.  Ivan was thirsty already. 
Even the water would drive you crazy with lust.
     "Tantrism." David said, evidently having his own
thoughts.  "It makes sense in a way."
     Ivan looked his puzzlement. 
     "Sex as the ultimate in worship.  Men and women
devoting their lives to sexuality.  It would work here
better than Christianity, that's for sure."
     "I suppose so."  Ivan said.  "Any suggestions as to
what we do next, my friend."
     David smiled, laid a hand on Ivan's thigh.  "This
later.  But for now, let's try to find a village of some
kind.  If we're going to survive here, we'll do it better in
a group."
     "Agreed." Ivan said, kissing David quickly.  The melon
patch was working on them with its concentrated lust.  He
rose to his feet.  "Let's get going."  He tucked the
notebook inside a large inner pocket.
     "First, let's gather a few orangelopes.  We'll have to
eat sooner or later." David said.
     Burdened by two melons each, they walked through the
jungle, avoiding the now familiar pink mists, trying not to
let even the leaves touch them, to caress them into that
slow passion that overtook them before.  If the body were to
survive, the notebook had warned, it must avoid contact
except when necessary.  
     So they were fine for many miles now, bare wisps of the
pink mist the main, unavoidable hazard.  But even the slight
mist was enough to stir Ivan despite the copious release of
before.  His cock was stirring, not a menace yet, but still
there, telling him about its presence and need.  Not yet, he
prayed, not yet.  
     And they came to the river.  Cool, clear, blue water,
it beckoned to the thirsty men, and they looked at each
other, raced to the water, falling to their feet to lap at
it like dogs.
     And Ivan drank deep of the water, and his body stirred
into lust, and he remembered too late the warning of the
notebook.
     Water is unavoidable, as is food, he reminded himself. 
We shall eat now, as well.  And bathe, his body reminded him
of the sticky melon still attached to his chest and crotch,
its power gone.
     He touched David on the shoulder, sitting back, and
David locked eyes with him, sat down closely.  "We shall
eat, now." he said.  "Then bathe."
     David grinned as he tore open the melon to release the
cloud of pink mist.  "As well as other things." he agreed.
     The mist was strong, but hunger stronger now, knowing
the melons to be harmless, except for their package of lust.
     Eating was exquisite pleasure, the feel of fluid
passion running down the throat to coalesce into a warmth in
the stomach.
     David reached, touched Ivan on the shoulder, a patch of
heat.  
     Ivan looked over, his chest heaving.  "Finish your
dinner, first, my love." he panted.  "Then we shall touch
each other.  I promise."
     Eager gulps finished the meager meal.  Done, Ivan
touched up, fumbled with his zipper to yank it down hard,
his jockstrap a white tent at the bottom, puckering out the
fly.  Ivan yanked off his boots, let his jumpsuit fall, the
jockstrap flung off with intense lust, and he was naked.
     David had won the race to undress, and he scoooped up a
leftover rind, advanced on Ivan, slathered the juice over
Ivan's nine inch slab of meat, coating him with lust and
lube at the same time.
     Ivan grabbed David roughly, kissed him hard, his teeth
bruising his lips as he did so, and David's legs parted
beneath him, rose to envelope his thighs, the heels prodded
at his buttocks like eager spurs.
     There was a fumble, while Ivan found David's anus with
his cock, the untouched, virgin asshole.  But his cock was
coated with liquid love, and David opened himself as easily
as Ivan had, permitted him to push inside to the very core,
his balls resting among David's ass-hairs, their hair
intermingling there, on their chests, on their heads as they
kissed.
     Ivan forced himself to be slow, gentle, despite his
need.  I am the master of my own body, you damned pink mist,
he told himself.  I will choose how I make love, at least.
     And David grabbed him, his hands caressed his back and
the feel of his hands across his rippling muscles, his hands
interlocked and David hugged him tight.
     Ivan lifted them, his muscular body allowing him to
raise up his commander/friend/lover until he was upright,
resting on his knees, David clinging to him, his cock buried
still in David's ass.
     And still interlocked, with David still hanging onto
him, his eyes questioning, Ivan rose to his feet (thankful
for the weight-lifting that permitted him this much control,
though it took all his legs had to do it), and walked with
David, his cock buried in David's ass, into the welcoming
water.
     David giggled as the water reached Ivan's thighs,
explained.  "Only my butt is in the water here.  It feels
great."
     "Then we shall go deeper." Ivan said, and waded out
further.
     The water rose about them, creeping with tangible
fingers around their bodies, to wedge between Ivan's waist
and David's legs, to coat them, moisten them.
     Here, even the water carried its own passion.  The
current caressed them, the liquid aroused them, and Ivan
waded ever deeper until, only their heads and shoulders were
out of the water, which tickled their nipples with its
ripples, barely keeping his feet, he stopped, to kiss David,
using David's body and his own to brace against the water,
holding them firm.
     And David released Ivan, let his body fall slowly into
the water, resting on top of it, and that was how Ivan
fucked David, both of them feeling the water's caress as
they made love.
     Ivan held onto David by his thighs, David kept his legs
locked around Ivan's hips, and Ivan moved David as well as
himself with each thrust of his nine-inch boner into David's
butt.  The water foamed angrily as Ivan speeded up, the
passion building too strongly, too much, too much, and he
lost his footing, hanging onto David, sending both of them
under the water while he hunched at David's ass hard and
fast, orgasm taking control of them both.
     David came, fluid pearls that floated between them,
landing and kissing, leaving again.  Ivan held tight as his
cock exploded, no air to breathe, enduring the strain of his
lungs while his cock poured a bountiful load into David's
ass.
     Gasping and thrashing, they arose again from the water,
separating with the need to breathe, the water kissing them
with each movement, and they caught their breath, looked
about them.
     "We'll have to swim." Ivan said.  "We're losing our
clothes."
     He took off with sure strokes, but David outdistanced
him.  Ivan gave it all the power he had, but only succeeded
in keeping abreast of David's pale form in the water,
enjoyed watching the bobble of David's ass as they plowed 
against the strong current, a slow, long race made harder 
by their recent ecstasy, but after a time, they made it 
back to the small beach where they had left their clothes.
     They had tossed their jumpsuits and jocks onto a grassy
knoll, to keep them free of sand, their boots were standing
upright nearby.
     Ivan walked up to their clothes, goggled.
     Strands of grass had woven into the jumpsuits, moving
with a near visible speed, slowly enough that only the length 
of time they had left them there had done it.
     And the grass was secreting a resin, amber colored,
that flowed onto their clothes.
     Their disintegrating clothes.  Ivan snatched his
jumpsuit away, and it tore in his hands, and he was left
with shreds of cloth.  His jockstrap was entirely covered,
and he made no effort to get it. 
     He plucked off his metal eagle, and David stood nearby,
dumbfounded.  Ivan reached his hand in to pull off the two
bars of David's rank, handed them to him.
     "We'd better put our boots on." Ivan said, strangely
calm.
     "But our clothes." David said.
     "They're gone, like our ship.  We'll have to enter that
village naked, unless we weave a loincloth out of some
leaves."
     "These leaves?" David said.
     "Oh.  Yes." Ivan said.  "I keep forgetting.  That
wouldn't do, would it."
     David reached in, pulled out a coil of metal.  We've
lost the notebook, too.  Damn, that was going to be our
guide, here."
     "First rule of survival." Ivan reminded him.
     David nodded, first rule was to forget about setbacks
and things that were lost.  "Very well.  We'll walk into
that village wearing only leather boots and a friendly
smile."
     Ivan nodded, laughed easily.  He put an arm around
David's shoulders.  For now, the planet was finished with
them.  They had time for intimacy.  "We'll have to do it."
he said.  He kissed David, their tongues interlaced, and
felt for the first time, Ivan felt true passion awakening in
him.  
     He pulled away abruptly.  "Let's get moving." he said. 
Sand clung to his wet buttocks as he put on his boots, and
with that as the only covering, one that fell away with each
step, they went on to find other human beings.