A private conversation

I find Tyler and Samuel and Kristi and Shade in the yard. The girls are crouched down in the grass on their hands and knees, side by side, the boys fucking them from behind--Samuel in Kristi, Tyler in Shade.

"Oy, Marissa!" they greet me in near-unison. I walk over to greet them back, a little reluctantly. It's not that I dislike them. I don't really dislike anyone. Those four are roughly the same age, ten or eleven hundreds younger than me. They tend to group together--keep to themselves--when they aren't working. I can understand the impulse. I felt much the same way at their age, drawn to my immediate peers. However, I also find them to be a bit flighty. I mean, I suppose I'm a bit flighty, too, but hopefully in a different way.

"Oy, a stranger! A guest!" Shade exclaims. Her eyes have landed on Martin, who stands a short distance behind me, looking uncomfortable and shifting his weight from foot to foot. His gaze is fixed upwards--looking at a tract of woodland he seems to find particularly fascinating. I don't understand why he's being so openly rude, but perhaps there is an explanation, some custom of his with which I am not familiar.

"That's the new sleeper, isn't it?" says Tyler. He stops for a moment to adjust himself as Shade arches her back further, encouraging him to go deeper. "Serena was telling me about your task."

"Aye," I say. "You're right. This is Martin Hughes, but he prefers to be called Martin."

The object of the discussion finally looks down at the group. "Hello," he says simply.

"How long will you be--ahh!--staying with us, Martin?" asks Kristi, wincing at a hard thrust from Samuel.

Martin seems oddly reticent, so I respond. "Only for the night. Then he travels redward. And I'm going with him!"

"That sounds exciting!" says Shade. She closes her eyes and moans, the carefully-constructed ringlets of red hair flying around her face.

I'm starting to feel excited myself, a tingling in my core, drops of arousal forming on my cunt lips. I look back at Martin. He's fully erect, beneath his covering. In fact, I do not believe he has ever gone soft the entire time we've been travelling together, despite the assurance he gave back at the Facility.

I gesture at his engorged member. "I see you are still erect. Perhaps now you would like to fuck me?"

He gulps. When he does speak, his voice is strained, almost a whisper. "I...No, Marissa. I'm sorry. I can't."

"Very well." I shrug my shoulders. Derrick is passing through the yard, so I call to him. "Oy! Are you available for a quick fuck?"

"Aye, Marissa," he responds. I drop to my hands and knees beside Shade. Her flank rubs back and forth against mine, a comforting touch. Derrick kneels behind me and feeds his manhood through my lips with little fanfare. He isn't entirely hard yet, but he's quickly reaching his full length as he grasps me by my hips and starts to thrust. I close my eyes and bask in the wonderful sensation of skin sliding against my inner walls.

When I open them again, my gaze is drawn to Martin's face above. He stares down at me unwaveringly, his expression one of intense grief. And...Are those tears forming in the corners of his eyes?

Something is deeply, deeply wrong.

"Derrick, stop," I say. "Please pull out." Instantly, he exits my cunt, leaving it bare, wanting. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think I need to see to our guest."

"Of course, Marissa, I understand," says Derrick graciously. He eyes Tyler beside him. "Perhaps I could fuck Shade when you are done? Is that fine with you, Shade?"

"Aye, that would be lovely," she says breathlessly.

"Come along," I say to Martin and lead him out to the field counter-spinward of the polly, a few dozen ems away so no one can hear us. The wheat has already been harvested, leaving loose dirt and bits of stubble.

"I sense you have things you want to say, for my ears alone," I say bluntly.

He laughs and shudders. "Yes...and no. I don't know...I...I thought I was ready for anything, when they put me under, back at the hospital. But...clearly I wasn't."

I wait patiently for him to continue.

"You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met."

My face heats up at the compliment. "Thank you," I say. "And this is a problem?"

"No! No. Please forgive me. This is all so new to me. I need time to adjust." He takes a deep breath. "How can I explain? Back...Back in my time, women--well, men, too--they walked around covered all the time. Especially here and here." He points to my bubs and cunt. "And when they chose not to be, with someone else, it was almost always because they wanted to fuck. Or sell their bodies in some other way."

"...Right?" I'm trying to understand his words, but I admit it's tough, especially with my cunt screaming at me for the interruption. That last statement is particularly confounding. What is "sell"?

"I'm sorry. I'm not explaining this well at all...Look...For me, sex isn't something done lightly. It has to mean something."

"You are saying it doesn't mean something to me?" I ask.

"No! Oh, this is going horribly!" He buries his face in his hands.

"Look," I say. "I think both our minds are unclear at the moment, and I'm sure I know why." I gesture at the bulge beneath his covering. "This is what we will do. I will touch myself now. You are welcome to stay and watch. In fact, I encourage you to touch yourself, too. Either way, we're not having sex."

Without waiting for his response, I reach both hands towards my hungry cunt.