A misunderstanding in the night

We set a very good pace along the path as the sunstrand wanes, engaging in pleasant conversation to pass the time. Martin tells me more about his former life on Earth, and I respond with some anecdotes of my own. He truly does not seem bothered by our brief encounter with the provisioner, as I feared he might be.

Martin and I reach the chicken polly before the dark has settled in. Unlike in Lakepolly, we do not go unnoticed. Many residents approach us, eager to greet visitors--and one of them a sleeper at that! A deluge of faces and names pass before me that I know I will never remember. One girl a few hundreds younger than me takes us on an impromptu tour of one of the pens where the chickens are kept--a yard of hardscrabble dirt and a number of hutches where the female chickens, the hens, secrete their eggs. Only one male chicken is present strutting about the yard--a cock.

"Really?" I say skeptically, taking Martin's tool in my hand. "The chicken is named after this?"

"Er, I think the naming inspiration actually goes the other way," says Martin. He looks nervous to have his delicate and sensitive organ so handled.

"Regardless," I say, comparing the two, "I cannot see the resemblance."

At dinner, I am overjoyed to find two--two!--boiled eggs served alongside my bread and garum. I take my time savoring the sweet flavor of the crumbly yellow center, chewing with deliberate slowness. Martin watches me amusedly, his own eggs long consumed.

"I suppose we should find a room to sleep," he says. "Two beds."

"Actually...Why not one bed again?" I close my eyes, remembering how comforting it felt to be enveloped by his body, his smell.

"O-One bed. Sure, why not? I don't mind."

We end up in an arrangement much like the night before, Martin curled around me, his arms holding me tight. As the last white light of the sunstrand turns to dark blue and the murmurs of activity around the polly fall to stillness, I drift into a dreamless sleep.

I wake to near darkness. I cannot tell how long it will be until morning, and I am unable to fall back to sleep. Martin's cock is digging uncomfortably into the back of my thigh. I grin mischievously. Perhaps I can find a more comfortable place for it.

Squirming slightly, I'm able to maneuver so that the cock rests between my thighs. I part my legs slightly and push back, letting it sink between my cunt lips and enter my inner passage. Much better!

"Wha--?" Martin stirs awake, his body stiffening in shock as he feels the warm and wet sensation of my walls embracing his cock head. "Marissa, are you...are you...?"

"It is alright, I hope?" I whisper, suddenly fearful I have overstepped.

Martin is silent for a moment. "Yeah, yeah," he says shakily. "It's more than alright. It's heaven." He pushes back against me, driving his cock further into my cunt.

We lay there on our sides, still half-asleep, connected, enjoying the warmth of the other. Martin's hands move from my bubs down to my hips, taking a firm grip. After a few lazy thrusts, he says, "Hold on," and rolls onto his back, spinning me around so that I'm straddling him on top, cock still firmly embedded deep in my cunt. I lift myself by my knees until only the tip remains between my lips, then let my weight sink me down again. I repeat this motion, over and over.

In the bluish light, I can just about make out Martin's face, staring up at me raptly. His hands leave my hips and cup the sides of my face, thumbs running along the edge of my chin. Before I know what is happening, he pulls me down toward him. My bubs are mashed against his chest. Our faces meet, our lips...His lips are joined against mine. We're kissing. We're kissing!

I groan into his mouth in distress and wrench my head back, almost dislodging his cock.

"Marissa?" he says uncertainly, plaintively. "Marissa, answer me. Please. I know I fucked up somehow. I'm sorry! Tell me what I did wrong."

I take a shuddering breath. "It's alright. It's alright. We were...kissing. It's not a casual thing. For us. For me."

"It's not a casual thing for me either," says Martin softly. "But neither is sex. Hence, my confusion. So who kisses then?"

"Mates," I say. "People who've committed to be more than friends, to love one another, to spend their lives together. If one has to change pollies, the other follows."

"That sounds a lot like marriage, but you didn't mention this when we were talking about marriage before."

I shake my head. "Perhaps I misunderstood. Marriage as you described it sounded more like hole agreements."

"But mates do practice these hole agreements, I would imagine?"

"They're related. Pretty much all hole agreements are between mates, but not all mates practice hole agreements. Regardless, they do tend to have more sex with each other than with the rest of the polly."

"I...see. I'm truly sorry. I didn't know. You...don't have a mate already, do you?"

"I don't. The right man has never come along."

"Is it...Is it possible I could be that man?"

I consider his question, so earnestly asked, so raw with emotion. "I'm not going to say 'no'. But we've only known each other three days, Martin! And it'd be an enormous disservice to you to rush into something like this, before you've had a chance to meet a woman more suited to your interests and desires."

"Right now, I'm finding it hard to imagine such a creature," he mutters. "But thanks for your understanding. Do you still want to fuck?"

I grind down upon his cock. "What do you think?"

"But no kissing."

"No kissing," I laugh. "Not yet."

I ride Martin's cock until he shoots his seed within me. Shortly after, I return the favor, drenching him in my arousal. I flop down upon him, my head nestled against his chest, not bothering to do anything about the mess we've made. In moments, we're both asleep, not to be awoken until morning.