Fred Sparkrock - Burning Desires

When at last a low, deep cry of pleasure was wrenched from her panting lips, he allowed the volcanic fire of his loins to leap forward.

Grunting and groaning in bestial fulfilment, gallon upon gallon of thick white sexual cream spurted from his cock, filling the tight ass contracting around him.

Again and again, fountain after fountain rocketed into the ass of the girl writhing and twisting in pleasure before him. The flood of semen and sperm filled her drenched ass and welled from her, dripping down the insides of her thighs. Eventually, lubricated by his own come, he slipped the deflated rod from the clutching hole.

Together, king and pleasure specialist, they sank to the white pillows.

Gently, the Hortian ruler kissed the short-haired blonde as if she were his first lover.

Jocelyn and Cynda had been replaced by two servants (who were just that and not to be touched, Tomar warned) who brought rather large glasses of a pale amber wine. Sitting cross-legged and bare-ass naked among the white pillows, Ponkert sipped at the fermented brew and found it strangely reminiscent of a St. Emilion Bordeaux he had once discovered on Earth. The wine had basically the same effects of warming his stomach and mellowing his outlook on life.

"Tomar," he mused, lifting the glass for another flavorful sip, "there's something different about you. Something that doesn't seem to fit."

The ruler raised an eyebrow at his companion, but only "mmmmmed" a little.

Not wishing to let it go at that, Ponkert pursued his train of thought,

"At first glance you seem native enough. But there's something definitely oddball about you. Like how could you celebrate and go whoring when your son has just been killed by a pack of wolves? Or where is your queen? Surely there is a queen?"

The ruler still made no comment, but only sipped at the amber liquid while staring at his companion over the edge of the glass.

"There's something about you which isn't what it seems. It's been gnawing at me-something you said-it'll come to me in a minute."

Tomar lowered his glass, resting it on a hairy thigh. "Alien-that's the word that fits you, Baron Ponkert-fits you like a glove!"

Ponkert's eyes met those of the king. "That's it! You described Cynda's ass as fitting like a surgeon's glove! Where on Keller are there surgeons that wear gloves! I bet you can't find one that washes his hands yet-let alone wears antiseptic gloves!"

"Perhaps not on Keller," Tomar answered, "but on Earth, the same place you learned of surgeon's gloves!"

Ponkert's eyes widened, but he made no comment.

"I'm as much an Earthman as you are. And I'll wager we arrived on Keller via the same means. The difference only lies in the twenty-five years I've had to adapt to this world and come to love it," Tomar said.

Ponkert searched his brain for any memories he had of missing rockets, but drew a blank.

"The name's Thomas Martin. Simple to shorten it to Tomar. My ship was The Wild Hare. The crash killed all the crew except me. I don't know how, but I thank the gods of Ulfblom for my life," the ruler explained.

Without further urging, Tom Martin, or Tomar as he requested to be called, also answered Ponkert's other questions. It seemed Cleve, the Prince of Hort, was actually the son of Hort's previous ruler. A ruler who had fallen under Tomar's challenging sword.

"For some reason, I always felt responsible for the boy's life and tried to raise him as my son," he said, sipping at the wine. "There was never any love lost between us. And lately the youth had been plotting my overthrow. The wolves simply did a task I would have had to do, if I were to remain king."

Tomar also explained that there had been a queen, Elf's mother, who had died in childbirth.

"You saved my Elfgwynne, Ponkert, or whatever your name happens to be," the king said. "My daughter is more precious to me than this whole planet-which is why I celebrate. I owe you a lot. Now tell me about yourself."

Ponkert briefly recounted the various adventures that had befallen him since the emergency landing on Keller. He also explained his search for the missing Jan.

"I will only be too glad to see that you are outfitted properly for your journey," Tomar said. "But my wisest advice would be for you to adapt as I did. I call upon the local gods. I also abide by the local customs-which brings me to a very important matter."

Ponkert glanced at the stern face that stared at him.

"Elfgwynne has told me you have refused to accept her pledge of service to you. Local customs dictate that you take her wherever you go. She is yours. Don't get me wrong; she's my only daughter and I have no want to see her go. But she is of age and it is her right!"

"And if I still refuse to accept her offer?" Ponkert questioned.

"Hopefully you won't. To refuse is the highest insult," the king answered. "For me to retain even a semblance of dignity, I would have to challenge you to a duel. This I would highly advise against. Because, you see, I've had twenty-five years of experience with handling the various blades of this planet, which you haven't. Despite my age, I suspect I'm both stronger and faster than you."

Smug in his knowledge of karate, though he would loath having to use it on his host, Ponkert replied, "That might be true, but perhaps you are underestimating me."

"That I might be doing," Tomar laughed. "If that were the case, I guess I'd have to put some of my old Earth learning to use. I was awarded my sandan before my last flight from Earth. I've been diligent about practising, too-a great asset on Keller."

Sandan. Ponkert gulped rather hard at the sound of the word. A third degree black belt in Karate! He only held a shodan, the first degree black belt. Tomar seemed to have tipped the scales very nicely, all in his favour.

"You leave me with little choice, friend Tomar," Ponkert grinned at the muscular king sheepishly. "But if you don't mind, I'd rather wait until tomorrow to make my decision."

"Fine!" Tomar nodded, draining his glass. "Now we have two other lovely ladies on tap that shouldn't be neglected."

Answering the echoing summons of Tomar's resounding hands, Leda and Mara moved the curtains aside and stepped into the room of white satin.

Placing his wine aside, Ponkert let his eyes travel over the equally inviting curves of the two pleasure girls.

"Ponkert," the Hortian ruler spoke, glancing at his companion out of the side of his eyes. "I had first choice last time. Now it is your turn!"

Nodding appreciatively, Ponkert's gaze returned to the two beauties awaiting his decision. While the auburn-haired, bosomy Leda had her obvious attributes, the sultry Mara, posed seductively in her costume of an odalisque beckoned to him with unspoken words.

"It's a hard choice, my friend," Ponkert commented, "but since I must choose-I'll take Mara!"

Tomar's laughter boomed as his arms signalled the tremendous titted Leda to him, "A wise choice, my young baron. Mara is an expert in the two thousand and seven positions of the Antis Atla. While I seriously doubt that any man and woman could achieve the acrobatics described in the sacred book of love, Mara will make you think that all are possible!"

A somewhat lewd smile twisted the Earthman's lips as he watched the small Mara approach. The girl's walk, was one of a hunting tigress fully intent on seeking out and capturing her prey. There was no doubt that her prey was one Chadwick Ponkert the Third!

Every muscle in the girl's supple body seemed to ripple, announcing that they were trained-trained to please-trained to please a man! Ponkert's groin stirred with lust as his eyes probed beneath the thin diaphanous cloth that veiled her body.

Then she was before him, her naturally red lips and black eyes alive with a smile that spelled out sexuality. Without a single word, her hands stretched behind her back, pushing away the waist length strands of raven black, shining hair and finding the clasp to the halter, hiding her breasts.