Lise, DM Arnold [bearly read books .TXT] 📗

said. “Yours is so smooth, and such a pretty color...” Thom caressed her thigh. “And, you have such lovely, long, sleek legs...” He worked his hand higher and higher along the inside of her thigh. Then, he cupped his palm over her mons and Lise felt his finger probing her.

He began stroking. “Thom ... Thom, what are you doing?”

“Why -- I am endeavoring, my dear Lise, to bring you to orgasm...”

“It's too intense -- it doesn't feel good.”

“I'll lighten my touch a bit ... is that better?” She moistened her lips with her tongue and nodded. “You have never experienced orgasm -- have you?”

“I don't know,” she panted.

“If you had -- you'd know. You're an open-minded girl, Lise. Just relax and go along for the ride. There ... it's starting to feel good, now -- isn't it?”

Lise licked her lips again and nodded. Her heart was accelerating. She needed more air -- her lips parted and her breathing deepened. Tension was draining from her muscles and pooling in the bowl of her pelvis.

Thom held her around her back and gazed into her eyes. Her breathing became panting, and Lise felt a deepening throbbing low in her abdomen, stronger than she had experienced before. It felt good but the intensity became almost uncomfortable, straddling the line between pleasure and pain. Now, her heart was racing. Each of his strokes reverberated in her thigh muscles.

The sensation sharpened. The closest she could recall was that of a too-full bladder, but this wasn't quite like that, either. Thom increased the pace of his stroking and she began making soft whimpers in the back of her throat.

“Go with the sensations, Lise,” Thom coached. “Don't fight it -- just let it happen...”

She started to feel tension in the backs of her thighs. She closed her eyes, bit her lip and was about to cry out...

Then -- release. Waves of pleasure radiated from her pelvis through all the muscles in her body, like waves in a tub bouncing back and reinforcing each other. She arched her back and groaned; and felt spasms in her pelvic floor from muscles she didn't realize she had.

She gasped, panted, held onto Thom and cried, “Stop! Oh, Thom! It's too much.”

Lise panted to catch her breath, but before she could Thom was atop her and filling her. He began working his toes under her heel. She accepted the invitation and locked her legs with his.

“Lise -- do you have any idea what a thrill this is?”

“Some idea,” she gasped.

Thom began rocking his hips, supporting himself on his elbows. Lise put both hands against his chest and smoothed them along his skin. “You can use a heavier hand, Lise. Men like a firmer touch...” Now she could feel his heart accelerate. He closed his eyes and lifted his face. “Mmm... That's it. This is wonderful, Lise...” He held her around her shoulders and Lise felt his weight and warmth against her body.

Lise held him across his back as he increased the vigor of his thrusting. She felt tension in her pelvis again -- more diffuse this time, but building. She wanted release but it wasn't happening. Thom continued his thrusting. She strengthened her grip on Thom's legs with hers and began pushing against him.

Then, she pushed Thom off of her and onto his back. She climbed atop him, rocked and rotated her hips until she found the stimulation she sought. Lise pushed hard against him, grunting with each thrust.

“Lise!” Thom exclaimed. “That's the spirit!”

Lise doubled and redoubled the vigor of her thrusting. Droplets of perspiration formed on her temples and the small of her back. Her own climax was moments away. She bit her lip and concentrated, tensing her thighs in an attempt to bring it closer.

Then, Thom grasped her buttocks and pressed his hips hard against hers. “Oh, Lise!” he grunted and she felt the unmistakable sensation of his release. An instant and a half later, pleasure waves began washing again over her own body. She gasped, moaned and fell limp against him.

“Wow!” Thom exclaimed. “Exquisitely done! Have you ever experienced sex like that before, Lise?”

“Never,” she gasped.

“I'll bet you never expected you had it in you.”

“No... I astonished myself.”

“I'm not astonished,” Thom replied. “I'm not surprised at all. You were simply following the program wired into your medulla. It appears you needed some instruction, too, Lise -- to show you how to unlock that which your designers built...”

She pressed her finger against his lips. “Will you shut up about my designers! I swear, Thom -- you have to be the most pompous, arrogant, egotistical, self-important ... windbag I have ever known.”

Thom gazed at her, his mouth attempting to form words. “Is ... is that how you really feel about me, Lise?” he finally asked.

“Oh, Thom... Nobody's perfect. I put up with it because ... because you've done so much good.”

“I love you, Lise,” he said.

“I know you do. I love you, too, Thom -- despite your faults.”

“I love every part of you ... all of you. I love your people.”

“I believe you. With all you've done for us ... done for me I have no doubt.”

“Oh, how I wish I were one of you.”

“That I can't believe.”

“Your kind will rule this world some day, Lise. It's been set into motion and nothing can stop it.”

A shaft of sunlight crossed her eyes and roused Lise. She looked to her left and saw Thom, sleeping on his back. She arose and stepped through the doors to the balcony and stood, nude with her arm across her chest. The Zone was quiet. Outside the Zone, streetlamps were winking off and the busses beginning their morning runs.

She went inside and down the stairs to Thom's library. His big mediascreen caught her eye. She switched it on and brought up the main menu, curious to see to what additional services he subscribed. One was the exchange auction. She selected it and was requested a password. This she cancelled and reviewed the items on the menu.

She spied an entry for Novonid Rescue. This one yielded several more. She selected one titled Newsletter. The publication was displayed and she immediately recognized the cover art.

It was the sketch Tagg had done of her at the abandoned hotel -- the one in which she stood by the broken window.

Lise turned and regarded the shelves of ancient books and note binders. Something caught her eye -- a large folder. She removed it and opened it. All of Tagg's sketches of her, all the nudes were there. She withdrew the one of her by the window and examined it. Tagg hadn't left anything out. She saw the scars on her abdomen ... a birthmark on her breast ... her registration number. Tagg! she thought. He should've obliterated it.

“There you are,” Thom said from the library doorway. “I'm going to make breakfast. Come join me in the kitchen.”

She picked up the folder and followed him.

“I'm making a sea prawn and pomma pilaf,” he said. “I usually have my main meal of the day at breakfast and then snack for lunch and dinner. Would you like anything?”

“No, thanks... Maybe something small.” Lise sat at the table and held the folder on her lap.

Thom warmed some of the protein strands and put them in a bowl. He dumped his breakfast from a pan onto his plate and sat across from her. “You certainly brighten my breakfast table. I wouldn't mind seeing you sitting there every day.”

“Are you inviting me to move in?”

“If you desire to, I wouldn't turn you away. As I said -- you set the pace, Lise.” He sipped his pomma brew. “How did you sleep?”

“Very well.”

“Lise ... last night ... any regrets?”

“I am sorry I called you pompous, Thom. I regret that.”

“I've been called worse... Other than that?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No ... none.”

“Do you see now how artificial is our society's taboo -- how ridiculous is the law against the fraternizing of our kinds?”

“Please, Thom -- not another lecture.”

“I'm sorry, Lise. It was my inner windbag speaking.”

“Oh, Thom... I hope I didn't wound you too badly with my remark last night.”

“No, Lise -- it was a kindness. I need to be reminded that not everyone likes to hear my voice as much as I do. I will say this, though. There are many mixed couples living and loving in secret. Those I've interviewed all say the same thing -- how satisfying is their physical love and what an important dimension it is to their relationships.”

“They confide in you?” Lise asked.

“Of course they do. They know me and they trust me. One of these days I'll write a book about their stories.”

“Does that mean last night will become a chapter in your book?”

“Not if you don't wish it, Lise.”

“These books you're writing, Thom -- are they real?”

“Of course they are. Why would you think not?”

“Dawn's light waked me. You were still sound asleep, so I wandered into your library. There I found something interesting.”

“What's that?” She held up the folder. “Oh, THAT.” He gave her a sheepish smile.

“You must've been stalking me from the beginning.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I'll bet you knew ahead of time the answers to that guessing game you played with me.”

“I hate to lose.”

“And, I suspect your interviews were ploys to get me alone with you.”

“You're a smart girl, Lise. No, the book is real. I can show you the manuscript. It's a work-in-progress but it is no lie.” Thom opened the folder and withdrew Tagg's drawing of her standing by the broken window. “I fell in love with this sketch, Lise. I traced the registration number and couldn't believe it when it matched one of a young woman whose description matched the sketch.”

“Tagg should've obliterated it ... or changed it.”

“Tagg? The young man we rescued last night did these? Your boyfriend?”

“The very same.”

“Then, I'm happy we did. He's a talented artist who deserves to pursue his art.”

“He can't to that very easily bussing tables,” Lise replied.

“I suppose he can't. I traced your number and discovered you were recently registered to Ramina. She told me you were babysitting for a single mother in Quadrant Three. I knew all about you before we first met. Believe me, Lise ... I might have been smitten by the sketch, but it's you I love. Are you angry with me?”

“No... It doesn't surprise me. In fact, it's in perfect character for you.”

“I told you from the start when I want something I usually get it.”

“I do think you owe Tagg royalties for using his sketch on your newsletter.”

“Hmm... You're probably right. What do you think is fair?”

“How about ... six thousand, to be applied toward his freedom?” Lise stood behind Thom, wrapped her arms around him and kissed his head and neck.

“Fair enough if he'll accept it.”

“I'll ask him when I see him. Since today's a rest day, there's no hurry for me to go home.”

“Unfortunately it's no rest day for me. I have work to do.”

“On your book?” she asked.

“If only it were something so pleasant... No, it's more serious business.”

“Then, I'll head back to the zone.” She bent and kissed his lips. “I had a wonderful time last night, Thom. I've learned so much from you.”

Lise strolled from the bus stop into the courtyard. Grott and Rayla were sunning themselves. “Good morning,” Lise said.

“Where have you been?” Rayla asked. “You ran out of here and never came back.”

“I spent the night with Thom.”

“Your white friend?” Rayla asked. “Oh, Lise! You didn't!”

“Didn't what?”

“You know full well what I mean!”

“Why? Does it show?”

“It's written all over your face. Lise! How could you?”

“How could she what?” Grott asked.

“She slept with a white man.”

Darkness spread across Grott's brow. “Then, you're not sleeping in my house.”

“I did it for Tagg!”

“You did what for me?” Tagg bounded up the steps and into the courtyard.

“You're free, Tagg. You're free from that odious owner of yours. You can devote your time to your art. The bounty's been lifted.”

“She paid for your so-called freedom with her honor,” Grott sneered.

“Lise -- you shouldn't have.”

“Tagg -- I thought you'd be happy. You wanted freedom. Now you can forget this Mott nonsense and be what you wanted to be. You and I can rent a room outside the Zone. You can have a real studio, Tagg.”

“I have freedom. I'm as free as I need to be already. I'm part of Mott's gang. No one can touch me. Not the bounty hunters -- no one. I didn't need you to sleep with some white goucher.”

“Tagg ... Mother ... Father... You don't understand. Thom's not any white. He's on our side. He's more one of us than one of them. He's helped countless of ours.”

“You mean he's helped himself to countless,” Tagg replied. “I can't bear the thought of you being soiled