From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.furry,alt.sex.homosexuality
Subject: Journal Entry 030 / 0477 [ Unmask! ]
Date: 4 Mar 1996 13:18:36 GMT
Organization: Pendor, UnLtd.
Lines: 603
Message-ID: <4heqjc$o29@news.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com
Erwer, Nenim 5, 0477
"P'nyssa!" I perched on the edge of the g-tube to the bedroom.
"Can I come down?"
"Don't come down yet!" was the answer I got.
"I'd like to use the bathroom!" I shouted.
"Use the one next door! Just don't come down here!"
I grumbled to myself about women and their incessant need to
take forever to dress. "Dave," I said, addressing the household
AI.
"The door's unlocked, Ken."
"Thanks." I walked back to our tiny kitchen and opened the
door the P'nyssa's old quarters next door. When she'd moved in
with me she started to use it less and less, so eventually we just
moved all of her stuff over into my quarters and closed up. I
suppose that someone else could have used it over the years, but
nobody ever asked for it. After Richard and P'raine were born we
used it as a nursery, but that had been years ago, and although
P'nyssa and I have discussed children since then, we haven't gone
ahead with the idea. Don't know why. Someday, though, we will
again. We'll have to. It's too much in her, and I think it's too
much in me, too. But at the moment the room is empty; the walls
are bare metal; all the natural wood paneling and stonework and
wallpaper are gone; the kitchen appliances are quiet and dead. The
lights came on minimally as I walked in and I felt confident in
using the gravitics tube to the downstairs bedroom.
Downstairs was more of the same. The room was completely
deserted. The bathroom didn't look familiar. At one time Richard
and Rainy's toothbrushes had been on the sink, the soap sloppy
everywhere, towels on the floor, absurd science-fiction wallpaper
on the walls, but not anymore. I wanted to call it a restroom, the
distinction being that a restroom is an efficient place for quick
operation; a bathroom is a place where one is most Human, or
Tindal, or whatever. One does not get into the shower of a
restroom to fondle one's partner lovingly, but that certainly
happens in my bathroom.
I quickly relieved myself and made my way back out. I wondered
idly what I could do with this extra space, but soon moved on. I
hadn't done anything with this space in decades; there was no
reason to change now.
So I soon found myself back in our own quarters, waiting on the
living room couch for my lover who had taken so long to get ready.
It finally took me by surprise when I heard "I'm ready!"
I waited for her to come up through the hole in the floor, and
when she finally rose to full height and the support field snapped
on underneath her my jaw hit the floor.
"What do you think?" She asked.
I was stunned. She wore white, everything bright, clean white.
And nobody wears white like P'nyssa. The contrast with her indigo
blue fur was perfect. She wore 4cm high heels, which while not
drastically high it's high for her; she's the sneaker type. Her
pants were bleached white form-fitting denim, but not tight around
her legs, and she wore a full shirt with silver cufflinks and
studs, white bow tied with silver band, and a perfectly cut
full-tailed tuxedo jacket that I guessed was doeskin. Her only
piece of jewelry was "Dragon", the polished pewter earring I'd
given her three centuries ago, in the right ear. Her black hair
had been teased out to frame her face and fell over the white
leather in magnificent contrast.
I fought for my voice. "Uhm... Uh... You look wonderful," I
finally managed to say.
She smiled. "I hope I have that same effect on the rest of the
party tonight."
"You should wear that more often," I said.
"If I wore it more often, you'd get used to it, silly. And I
certainly don't want that." She laughed quietly. "You look
wonderful, too."
"Do you really like it? It's not too militaristic?"
"What? A Fleet Uniform? You're a full commander; you deserve
it. And the blue and and white go well with me. We'll make quite
a striking pair tonight." I chuckled back in response.
I brushed what was left of my hair into place. P'nyssa had
insisted on cutting most of it off; if this was to be a masked ball
then I had certainly be more incognito then usual, and for the past
hundred years or so people had been seeing me in long hair. "If
you'd cut any more off, I'd be bald."
"I left you plenty. And it'll grow back. A year from now
it'll be down your back, and you know it." And I did know it;
everything on me grows fast; hair, nails, and unfortunately, teeth.
"By the way," she continued, "how do I look?" She took the
light leather mask and put it over her eyes, adjusting it so she
could see.
I laughed. "What's so funny?" she asked.
"You look like P'nyssa Traken."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, you look like a Traken, sweetheart. The white leather
just covers up the albino patches around your eyes. Okay, your
patches aren't as big as the mask, and they don't come together
over the bridge of your nose the way the mask does. And I suppose
every Tindal there will be wearing something similar, but it does
make you look like... you, or some other fem in your family."
She smiled. "Good. Just what I wanted."
As we walked toward the SDisk, that comment ran through my mind
over and over, and as it did, it became more and more cryptic.
When we got to the party, I was sure there was more to it than
just my natural paranoia. Richard and Susan had decided to throw
their fourth-century anniversary party in truly grand fashion, and
the Reedhon Castle courtyard was positively packed with people, all
dressed in the strange to sublime.
I was enormously pleased to see that most people had gone the
formal masked-ball route, and only a few had gone to truly
costumely lengths, although those that had had chosen historical
formals to go to. I even saw a few people in Heinlein full
formal, and they looked comfortable, which made me comfortable.
The masks went from the simple eyepiece (like mine and P'nyssa's)
to full headresses. Despite the nature of the party, I did not see
Uncia wearing scars they did not deserve, but the number of people
in drag amazed me. Fashion on Pendor is much slower than on other
worlds, but it has some definable patterns,
and at present there were very set male and female fashions; people
at this party were going out of their way to achieve androgyny.
Apparently P'nyssa had caught wind, with her very feminine tuxedo.
I saw Felinzi with complete watercolors airbrushed into their fur.
Mostly Taoist themes, too. Seems Tao and Zen had taken Felinzi
culture by storm the past two years.
But what made my curiosity go sky-high was that I saw not one,
or two, but at least five Tindals wearing the exact same thing
P'nyssa had on. At first I had thought I was just seeing Nyss over
and over, but I saw two of them talking together, and neither of
them had the earring. Well, they had earrings, but not "Dragon."
And one of them was most definitely male.
Dinner was okay; I think the poultry was a tad under-done, but
then maybe I got an Uncia's plate by mistake. Can't expect the
caterers to get everything right. But my dinner companions were
pleasant enough; to my right was a Markal fem named Tavvi with a
ton of piercings in her large rodentine ears, and to my left a
femSsphynx whose voice reminded me of a young lady I'd once known
only by the name of Fading Breezes. Unfortunately, I had no
opportunity to get to know either of these ladies very well since I
was situated across from an apparently just post-adolescent
angry-at-the-universe-in-general Centaur who recognized me and my
uniform and seemed quite intent on pestering me. It was all I
could do to concentrate on teasing the Markal under the table,
tickling her very exposed thigh. I'm glad the miniskirt is back.
After desert (and some incredible double entendres' from the
Ssphynx, considering it was only cherry pie a la mode), I advised
the young Mel that when he grow up he volunteer for the Fleet
before opening his mouth. He took affront to that, predictably,
and I fully expected the phrase "affaire' de honor." But he
passed. Lucky him. It's been a while since I've picked up any
sort of sword, but I've got a lot more years on the boy, and age
and treachery and all that rot.
I danced for a while with the young Markal lady, and she was
intent on teasing me with her tail, which kept coming around us. I
found her a wonderful dancer, and let her lead. After a while,
though, there was a soft tap on my shoulder, and one of the "Tindal
Clones," as I'd started to label them, stood behind me. "May I
have this dance?" she asked.
Her voice did nothing to give her away. She was almost
completely unknown to me. I suddenly recognized another reason
behind the tuxedo; it covered everything, and I couldn't get a
clear look to see any of the familiar fur patterns that sometimes
mark a Tindal. But there was this niggling thought in the back of
my mind that told me I should damn well know who this was.
She was experienced on the dance floor, and she took my breath
away with her sensuous hips and white gloves. I enjoyed the music
pouring through the room and the feeling of her body pressed
against mine when the music slowed. And she proved to me, once and
for all, that anyone can tango if their partner is good enough.
Because I cannot tango.
We sat and drank champagne, telling outrageous lies as we were
allowed by the masked ball. She told me she was a geologist for
the Fleet; I told her I was an explorer, once with The Eldarfaroth,
but now living quietly here on Pendor. We exchanged tales; both of
us had helped Hall-walkers. She was born before the 'Opening'. I
told her I was born in 52, she said 68. Basically, I think we lied
through our respective teeth.
But her company was comforting and pleasant, especially after
that damned Centaur boy, and I was getting a little high from the
alcohol and leaned over to kiss her. She acted as if she had fully
expected that, leaning into the kiss and opening her mouth against
mine. I replied, inviting her tongue into my mouth, feeling it
against mine but not really concentrating on how or where it went.
"I know of a few empty rooms in Reedhon Castle, if you'd like
to go someplace more private," she said.
I gave it all of one second to run through my brain. "Of
course," I said. "After you."
She stood and took my hand in hers, leading me past the crowds
clustered around the various hors d'oeuvre tables and champagne
bottles. We made our way into the sideroom, which held mostly the
more tired partygoers, sitting around quietly talking or
communicating in more physical, but undemanding, manners. The
doors were opened to the outside, and I saw two Centaurs walking
through the garden that I swear had been made for occasions such as
this. Down the hill the river trickled by. She (I had no name for
her yet, but she still seemed familiar) led me up the creaky wooden
stairs to a small hallway that I had to duck under to get through,
and down a slate stone hallway to a large wooden door with a very
typical doorknob. We walked in and the lights came up slowly, soft
white light from several candles illuminating a room done in
winecolor. The floor was still slate, but I knew it would never be
cold under my feet. The centerpiece to the room was a huge
four-poster bed with canopy. There was one large mirror. A small
door led off to what had to be (and I had to call) the garderobe.
She closed the door behind her as I crossed the room to the
bed. I sat down and she walked to me, leaned over and kissed me
again. I reached up to ruffle the fur at her neckline and was
surprised to feel something else under the cloth, something that
felt like a collar, the more erotic kind. I wondered if she had a
master or mistress somewhere who had put her up to this.
She must have noted my attention, because she said quietly,
"You may undo me, sir, but not the collar or the mask." Well, that
answered my first question, the one I wasn't going to ask aloud. I
reached up while her mittens slowly stroked down my back and one at
a time removed the silver studs from her shirt and undid the tie.
The collar underneath was a thin wide band of black leather. I
opened her belt and pants as she stepped out of her shoes. The
jacket and shirt fell to the floor, and I pulled her down to the
bed, making it easier for me to strip off her pants.
Even if she was someone's slave, she wasn't mine. She pushed
me over and down onto the bed to show me that fact. "Lie down and
relax," she said in a calm voice. She swung one leg over my chest,
straddling me facing away. I had a clear and magnificent view of
her buttocks before she slowly sat down on my face, obscuring my
vision completely. She pulled her legs in tight to block up my
hearing, as well. "Lick me," she said. It sounded more like a
plea than a command, but it was to be obeyed, and I did, opening my
mouth as far as I could and reaching out with my tongue to slide it
over her clit and up into the fleshy depths of her pussy. She
leaned forward, clearing my eyes a little, but all I could see was
her furry buttocks and back and the canopy of the bed. I did my
best to lick her in that awkward position, and I felt I would
drown; she was very wet. I also had to breathe through my mouth
since my nose was completely covered by her ass.
My attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of the door being
opened. Aghast at being caught in this awkward position, I tried
to get the young fem's attention, but she held my arms down and
said, in that same calm voice, "Quiet." The other person came in
and touched my leg, running a mitten (yes, mitten... another
Tindal) along the material of my uniform. She addressed my
pleasant captor and at least identified herself as a her. Great.
I smell a rat, and her name is P'nyssa.
The other reached under the diagonal clasp of my jacket and
unzipped it. I heard a small expression of frustration, and I
guess it was that the shirt for the uniform is a turtleneck. She
turned to my boots and removed them, then the socks. She opened my
pants and slid them off. At the moment I was unerect, but she
curled her mitten around my cock and began to stroke me, very
slowly, sliding the skin up and over the head and then back down,
and soon that was rectified. There was a shuffling, and then the
new one straddled my legs along with the first, except I could feel
her feet back along my legs and I knew she was facing my captor,
who was not paying much attention to my needs and was occasionally
cutting off my air supply. I found it frustratingly exciting,
especially since I was now completely volunteering for this. If I
weren't, I'd have fought them off and left a long time ago.
Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get me into this bed, and
my curiosity, not to mention ego and libido, were piqued.
The other one (I wish I had names!) slid up and took hold of my
cock, coming down and sliding me into her. I felt her warm cunt
surround me and her full weight came down onto my hips. The bed
creaked underneath us. The one I was eating got up for a second,
giving me a clear view of yet another Tindal In White Leather,
still wearing her shirt and jacket. My original paramour turned
around and straddled me facing the other way, for which I was
grateful. She even reached down and held herself open, giving me
much better reach of her clitoris. I licked and nibbled her cunt,
trying to give my all to her, and she apparently found my talents
acceptable, because she was very soon coming in loud, shaking
orgasms. She allowed me to lick her to four orgasms, all coming in
a row. The Tindal over my cock was determined to not let me forget
about her, and began to slide insistently up and down, sighing each
time as I began to thrust my hips upward. She and I developed a
rhythm that became easier as we went on, my cock sliding into her
and then back out. My captor backed away a little from my head,
but still blocked my view of the other, who may have been P'nyssa,
for all I saw of her. My cock surged and tightened, and then
finally, I came in a scream, pushing up into her, trying to get
deeper, be engulfed by her.
The one sitting on my chest, the original, put her mittens over
my eyes, and the other got up and left, slowly and calmly, as if
she had all the time in the world. Then the one left got off of
me, leaned over and whispered, "When I leave, take off your shirt
and turn over onto your belly. Close your eyes. If you're tired,
take a nap." She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then picked up
her clothes and left, as unhurried as her friend.
When she left, I got out of bed, stretched, and decided that it
was worth it to find out what was going on. I removed my shirt,
pulled down the covers and lay on my stomach, like she'd asked.
The room was comfortably warm, and I decided against crawling under
the covers. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I kept thinking
about my captor; who was she? And, damnit, I felt like I should
know who she was. Eventually, I did fall asleep.
I was awoken by the feeling of warm, strong mittens on my back.
The mittens were vaguely oiled, and the person astride my buttocks
proved to be an experienced masseuse. I lay there, enraptured by
the warm sensations of the massage as my unknown benefactor slowly
rubbed my neck and shoulders, working out the few kinks I had. I
groaned as the relaxation reached my brain, filling me with that
sense of well-being. I trusted her, whoever she was. "Thank you,"
I said quietly.
"Your welcome," said the masseur. My eyes popped open, but I
saw nothing; the room was pitch black. That was a male voice.
However dark it was, I was still tempted to turn around and look,
but I decided finally that that wasn't going to be helpful, and lay
still where I was. He leaned down and whispered into my ears, "You
know what I'm going to do when I'm finished with this rub? I'm
going to take the oil and oil myself up and then I'm going to fuck
you, Shardik. How does that sound?" His voice was achingly
familiar.
I groaned. "Go ahead," I whispered. "Everyone else seems
determined to do that tonight."
He chuckled. His strong mitts continued to loosen my back, and
as he spread the oil over my buttocks my excitement returned. He
was professional in his massage, however, leaving my butt when he
was done to caress my legs, the backs of my knees, and my feet. As
he did my feet I sighed again, really enjoying his work.
He let my foot drop to the bed. From the smell I'd guess I was
still in the same room; the bed had the scent of sex and velvet.
He never lost touch of me and I lay with my head on the pillow,
eyes closed, waiting.
He straddled my legs, and I felt the furred back of his mitten
against the crease of my butt and I could tell he was oiling his
cock, stroking it to a full erection. "Ready?" He asked.
"Yessss," I whispered. I felt the head of his cock nudge
between my buttocks, searching. His other mitten reached under us
to feel for my asshole, and the two came together. He pressed his
weight ever-so- slightly, and I let him in, I let my ass give way.
He sank into me, my asshole expanding and then closing as the head
slid by, feeling the silky length of his dick slide past my opening
and fill my rectum. I closed my eyes and joyfully felt the weight
of his hips crushing my buttocks, his legs moving between mine,
spreading them. He supported himself on his tens. He slowly
withdrew, and the feeling was mind- blowing. Then back. I don't
know if I had an erection, and I didn't care. I just wanted to be
under him, to be his.
He grunted as he fucked me, my ass taking his all. He began to
go harder, and I responded. "Yes," I said. "Just like that."
He laughed, and slowed down. "I want to make this last," he
said. He wasn't being gentle, just slow, jabbing into me with
every thrust. It was wonderful as he fucked me. He lowered
himself, his chest against my back, his breath against my neck. He
pressed his forehead against the back of my neck and laughed
quietly. His mitts wrapped around my shoulders. He began to speed
up, his breathing in time with his hips, and he began to slam
against me, harder and harder. It was wonderful; I wasn't going to
come, but it may as well have been me. I was wrapped up with him,
and his cock stroked my guts, my insides, and when he finally came
I shouted in joy with him.
He rolled off of me and the edge of the bed, standing. I no
longer felt him against me, until he leaned over and said "There's
one more coming." He kissed my back, making the muscles tense up
again slightly, and then he left.
I waited, and the time went by slowly. I wondered if I was up
to whatever was next. My ass twitched wonderfully in response to
the ravishing from the male Tindal. I smiled.
The door opened and the last one was female. She was dressed as
the others, in the white denim and leather, gloves and mask. She
walked in and over to me. As she closed the door, the candles lit
by themselves. Nice theatrics, I said to myself. She stood in
front of me, looking as delicious as the others, and said "Are you
up to one more?" Her voice flooded my memories, and it all came
back to me. I laughed aloud. I know who you are, I know who you
are, sing-songed through my head as I looked at her. I know who
you all are. I laughed aloud. Wait a second, there's one missing.
Maybe I'll find out later.
"What's so funny?" she asked me.
"That's a funny question," I replied. "Of course I'm up for
one more."
"Then help me with my clothes," she said, holding her tens out.
I reached for her cufflinks and removed them, while the hand she
had free opened her shirt. I slid the soft jacket off her
shoulders, and she sat on the bed, topless. I scooted further onto
the bed, and she joined me, and I reached down for her boots. I
pulled off the left boot and took her foot by the ankle, lifting it
to my mouth. I gently kissed her big toe, then moved on to the
other, shorter and broader small toe. I licked both with my
tongue, enjoying the taste of sweat on her pads and in her blue
fur, running back down along the arch to her heel, tickling her.
She laughed and squirmed to my touch, and I shifted feet, taking
off the other boot and licking that one as well. She giggled and
rolled on the bed, and I made my way up her calf, nipping and
biting. It's hard to lick furries, since I get all that hair on my
tongue, but she seemed to like my biting, especially when I turned
over and got under her knee.
She sighed as I reached her cunt and with my right hand idly
brushed the fur out of the way, exposing her pink flesh. This time
it was my control, and I was determined to enjoy it. I love eating
cunt, and she was sweet as I probed the first time, thrusting my
tongue into her vulva and parting her lips, sucking her outer lips
into my mouth. I was being rather rough, but she seemed to be
enjoying it, and I decided not to change tactics. I spread her
lips with my hands and dove in, surrounding her clit with my lips
and licking directly, hard. She moaned a soft, "Yes, just like
that," and I nodded an enthusiastic little nod. I sometimes dipped
my tongue into her cunt, just to taste her sweet juices, but always
came back to her clit, licking with a varying rhythm that just kept
getting harder and harder. She ran her mitts over my head, and she
came in a wonderfully noisy orgasm.
"You liked that," I said.
She nodded and said, "Let's see what I can do to you," coaxing
me back onto my back and taking position over me, taking my cock
into her mitts and leaning over to take me into her mouth. She was
talented, taking my cock deep into her mouth and sucking hard. I
closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her ministrating to me.
She suckled my cock, keeping me hard, but oddly never really
getting me much closer to orgasm.
There was a sudden rush of cold air over my cock and balls, and
I opened my eyes. She had stopped, and said, "I want you to make
love to me, Ken."
She crawled on her knees to the edge of the bed and, facing
away from me, took each of the posts in her mitts, holding herself
up in a semi-leaning position. She turned her head towards me and
through her mask the yellow eyes seemed to twinkle a little. "Take
me," she said.
Encouragement I did not need. I came up behind her, on my
knees as well, and aimed my cock, wet and slick with her saliva, at
her cunt. I grabbed her hips and pulled her towards me, sliding
into her as her hips joined mine.
My cock drove deep, and she moaned as I fucked her. I used my
arms and my hips, pushing her away, then driving back deep into
her, pulling her towards me. I looked down, watching my cock
driving in and out of her cunt, the pink lips and blue fur and wine
bedsheets all blurring in a chiariscuro of sex, and my cock
responded to all the stimuli, becoming harder as I drove in and out
of her. "That's it, take me," she said again, louder. "Fuck me
Ken!" she shouted as I pounded her, slamming against her buttocks.
The bed creaked as the force of my ecstatic blows was absorbed
through her body by the bedposts. I could feel my orgasm building,
and she said, "Fuck me, come for me, come on for me," and I
screamed as my body exploded in orgasm, every vestige of self
control lost, every last ounce of strength flowing out of me. I
sighed, dropped my head in exhaustion, and fell back onto the bed.
I watched her sag against the footboard, but then she raised her
head high and turned to smile at me. She crawled over to me,
kissed me on the forehead and said, coyly, "The unmasking is in
half an hour. Don't fall asleep!" She laughed, crawled off the
bed, and like my previous lovers, left.
I lay there for a few minutes, then groaned to myself as I got
up. There was a glass of cold water on the bedstand, and I drank
it down, completely ignoring the question of where it had come
from. It cooled my parched throat and I could feel the cold water
as it shocked it's way down to my stomach. I felt... refreshed. I
went into the garderobe, glad to see it was pretty standard,
relieved myself and combed my hair back into place. I dressed and
realized... nobody had ever taken my mask off. I'd had it on all
this time? I don't remember... Wow, talk about being preoccupied.
I laughed, finished dressing, and headed for the door. I
looked both ways; the hallway was deserted. I headed back down to
the stairs, noted that the sideroom was mostly deserted, and headed
back for the masked ball. Inside, people were winding down,
dancing slowly. Even the band looked a touch worn out. I noticed
the contingent of six Tindals in White Leather, four of whom, the
four I'd been with earlier, with dates at their arms. The mix was
pretty typical, and now that I had a clear count I knew who they
were... P'rose and P'lissane had been the first two, then Richard,
and finally P'maya. P'rose and Lisa each had eager Tindal males to
their sides. P'maya's date was a femSsphynx, which made me
remember a letter I'd gotten from P'nyssa while I'd been in space,
and Rick's date was the adorable Markal I'd been dancing with.
Talk about being set up!
Richard and Susan came out and stood on the balcony over the
side of the great hall, and there was a squawk from the speakers as
they turned on the PA system. Susan gave a standard "I'd like to
thank you all for coming," speech, and then Richard said, "And now,
it's time to unmask."
The ritual cry went up from the great crowd assembled, "Unmask!
Unmask!" I turned to my captors as a whole and said, "The jig, so
to speak, is up, guys." I took off my masks as they took of
theirs. Every one of them, excepting Richard, had the
characteristic Traken markings about their eyes. Males don't get
it.
I looked at them all, and waited for somebody to say something.
Other than Tavvi their dates looked little confused. I had just,
in very distinctive fashion, been on the receiving end of four out
of five of P'nyssa's children. Not to mention being ravished quite
effectively my own son! I turned to the two remaining, P'nyssa
herself and P'raine, and said, in what must have sounded like a
desperate voice, "What is this all about?"
They cracked up laughing. "It's about you, Ken," P'nyssa said.
"I was talking to Rick and we started to talk about the party, and
you, and it just sort of... happened. We all agreed to it, just
for fun."
I smiled wide, so wide I felt the muscles in my face strain,
and said, "Yeah, I've had moments like that myself. Pretty
elaborate, sweetheart. Thank you."
She hugged me tight and said, "You're welcome. But we have one
more surprise for you. Do you know what tomorrow is?"
I ransacked my brain for ideas; what was tomorrow? The day
after Richard and Susan's anniversary, Lotesse 3rd. Lotesse 4th?
"Oh, no," I said.
"That's right. Tomorrow's your birthday, Ken, and Rainy and I
have decided that you should have the two of us tomorrow, starting
right now, since the party here is over."
"P'nyssa... I can't sleep with both of you in bed."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing," I said, turning to P'raine, "you're my
daughter."
"You were perfectly willing to let your son have at you,"
P'nyssa said touchily.
"Okay, I admit..." I did enjoy it, and I felt not one touch or
twinge of guilt about it. "Okay, let's try it. But just a
second," I said, holding up my hand. I turned, one after the other
kissed P'maya, P'rose, P'Richard, and finally, P'lissane, and bid
them goodnight. And for me, there is no such thing as a friendly
kiss. I distinctly felt Lisa's toes curl. "Goodnight, all."
They all wished me goodnight, and with P'nyssa on my left and
P'raine on my right, mother and daughter and (adoptive) father in
the middle we bid Richard and Susan a good night and teleported
home.
I hope P'raine wasn't too disappointed by my insistence that we
head to bed, but I was tired, and from the looks they were giving
me, they were too. We went to bed.
--
"Journal Entry 030 / 0477 [ Unmask! ]"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are copyright (C) 1989-1995 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Redistribution of
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