Fred Sparkrock: Burning Desires

By the time a flood of warm, wet kisses subsided and they parted slightly, he stared at her, still unbelieving, "Jan! Woman, I've been searching for you ever since my pod landed on this crazy planet. I just can't believe it! And a queen. Hell, wench, I've only managed to rise to the title of baron!"

Laughing, the very Earthy queen of Lindakar maneuvered him to a couch and poured wine from a silver flask into a silver goblet. Tears of happiness still welling in her eyes, she explained that Rololf had located her fallen, misguided escape pod, while on a hunting trip.

"It was love at first sight, if you can believe that, Chad," she explained. "He made me his queen during our first month together. He also made every attempt he could to locate you. I told him everything!

But my damn signal beam locator was smashed in the crash. The signal beacon worked and we turned it on in the hope that you were alive and would try to find me."

Briefly, he recounted the various adventures and misadventures that had occurred to him on his journey across the face of Keller. He very carefully explained every detail pertaining to Elf, her abduction and somewhat less than successful attempt at rescue.

"Rololf is a fair man," she said. "Although he is somewhat dominating … "

And just what you need and want, Ponkert thought, remembering Jan and his master-slave sex games on the now destructed Werewolf.

"… but Hort has been a rival of Lindakar's for centuries. I'll do my best when he returns from his hunt tomorrow, but I can't promise anything."

"However," she added, "I think I'll be able to swing it. Lindakar was a city on the edge of revolt when I first arrived. It's still in bad shape, but under my suggestion, Rololf removed every member of his council. Things are shaping up and the people are beginning to call him their king again. I think it would be hard for him to refuse. But there's a price… "

Ponkert's eyes jumped to hers. "A price?"

"Yes," she replied with determination.

"Okay, let's hear it," he grimaced as he realized his former co-pilot had him over a barrel.

"First, I know I'll never be able to stop you from your plans of setting up the matter transmitter and opening up Keller to Earth. But if you want my help, you'll have to agree to wait at least six months before you take any steps in finding the transmitter." She paused momentarily, her eyes searching his face for any traces of understanding. "Let's just say I like what I've found here and I don't want it changed. This place grows on you. Given six months, you just might become a Kellerian. It's a gamble I'm going to take."

For several minutes Ponkert pondered the request in his mind. All in all, he didn't find the prospect of six extra months on Keller all that unpleasant.

"I agree," he finally announced his decision. "But you said "first," what else do you want?"

Her big dark eyes looked at him with that cute innocence that he so well remembered from their numerous star voyages together. She stirred restlessly on the couch beside him.

"Rololf has been on his hunting trip for five days and nights," she began again. "He also left me to take care of state business during the day. At night, in this big bed chamber, I am alone-master."

The second part of her price hit him like an unexpected bombshell. There was no doubt as to what she had in mind. She wanted the same games they used to play aboard the Werewolf to while away the endless hours in spaceflight.

"Jan," he questioned, almost unbelievingly, "I've been nearly three weeks without a woman and the last part of your offer is quite enticing, as it always has been-but are you sure? I mean, you are a married woman now and a cuckolded husband, especially a royal one, is nothing a sane man wants to contend with."

She laughed, her dark eyes shining as bright as the light on her strands of black hair, "Chadwick Ponkert the Third, I dare you to accuse a queen of cheating on her husband. Wouldn't be cheating. After all, I did know you first and besides, it would be for old time's sake-master."

There was no arguing with logic like that. Not that he wanted to argue.

This was one ready-and-willing woman offering herself to one ready-and-willing man. He answered by gathering her in his arms and attempting to stab her tonsils with his probing tongue.

"Now, wench," he assumed the role she wanted of him when they parted.

"You may wear the robes of a queen, but I plan to prove you're still the bitch you always were."

Her eyes widened with anticipation and she trembled.

"Strip, bitch!" he ordered, snapping like a feudal ruler in a world of real feudal lords.

Immediately, she responded by standing and pulling the white folds of her robe over her head. He felt his testicles tighten with the familiar view of her very desirable body. The globes of her breasts shivered with submissive excitement. Quickly shedding his own clothes, he was fully prepared to begin to pay the second part of Jan's price.

Then she came to him, bouncing and swinging a lot of tit. Her hands attacked his cock, causing it to grow to a firm mast of flesh that pulsed with life. He groaned as a sudden vise-like grip squeezed his meaty shaft until every inch throbbed hot with pain-pleasure.

"It remembers little Jan," she teased, knowing damn well that he could never resist this sexually hungry woman.

She shivered and jerked a clenched fist up and down his extended hard rod. Her hand raced up and down, from the strained looking gorged glans to the hairy clump at the base of his cock. Simultaneously, her other hand tucked beneath his legs and tickled its way over his tightening scrotum, eventually finding his dangling, ball-filled sac. He groaned again as she cupped the tender bag and toyed with it. His testicles were moving around uneasily, but the sensation was building up pressure and his buttocks were drawing taut.

His own hands were engrossed in the jugs of enticing flesh that swayed on her chest. She grunted as he dug into their softness and molded them to the contours of his hands with a healthy squeeze. Her hand was moving with increasing energy over and around his thick cock. He kneaded and tugged her breasts as if they were mounds of creamy white dough rather than sensitive flesh. He tugged and tickled. She moaned a deep-throated desirous groan. He pulled and swung them. Her nipples fattened to dark taut mushrooms. His fingers found and fondled the erect buds. Then he pinched and rolled the hard flesh between his scissoring fingertips. It wasn't enough to hurt her, but she shivered and pulled at his pulsing organ. Reaching under the slightly pendulous tits, he pushed upward until the almost flaccid flesh slipped off his palms and slapped back at her chest. His manual administrations caused them to glow with a pink warmth.

"Now, my royal whore," he commanded. "Let's see if you remember how to give head. Eat it!"

In slavish submissiveness, she eased away from his fondling hands and dropped to her knees. Without any preliminary licking or nibbling, she opened her lips to form a gaping "O" and surrounded his cock with wet, warm mouth.

It was one abrupt delightful surprise sensation. He half-sighed, half-groaned under the oral caress she lavished on his prick. He watched her pouted lips inch forward over his length, working their way to the hilt of his penis. Tightening his ass, he eased forward into the damp, oral sheath, helping her with the task she had set about. Standing above the kneeling woman, he watched himself disappear into her face. His hands caressed her cheeks. The bludgeoning column stuffed her mouth, jerking and jumping. He delighted, as he felt his movements beneath her eager lips.

He could follow the swirling lashes of her tongue with his fingertips, not to mention the thrilling waves of pleasure her tongue ignited in his shaft. She slithered her oral digit around the thickness of his dick until he felt like a stick of dynamite.