Fugitive (6 page)

   Which they were. It was possible that the planet Zetith had been destroyed for that very reason, but that didn't concern Manx at the moment. A Zetithian male's attrac tiveness to women might have been a curse, perhaps the downfall of his species, but it was also their purpose. There were others he had been able to resist approaching, but not this one. If she stayed long enough, they would meet. He wouldn't be able to stay away. Not now.

   Drusilla looked over her shoulder and smiled. Even though Manx knew he was already well hidden, he drew back into the dappled shade of the trees. She couldn't see him, but why was she smiling? Was it because she'd enjoyed her swim, or the fact that Zef had kept quiet? And what was the reason for Zef's silence? Was he as speechless as Manx when confronted with such a vision? Zef didn't like the Baradans in his lake, but he might have enjoyed watching Drusilla swim enough to refrain from chasing her off. Stranger things had happened.

***

Drusilla had smiled for good reason; she had thoroughly enjoyed her swim and also the fact that Zef hadn't touched her, spoken, or even splashed. Perhaps she met with his approval. Either way, the lake was even better than the exotic birds. This could turn out to be more of a vacation than she'd ever dreamed.

   Gathering up her clothes, Drusilla walked back to the house, stripping off her wet undergarments as she went. There was something so
liberating
about being naked, and she resolved to spend much of her time in that manner. There was no need to dress for Klog, after all, and Lester had promised to call before making a trip out to the lake if it became necessary—which, he had assured her, it probably wouldn't. Drusilla sighed blissfully. No men—no people—no worries; nothing but birds to paint and lakes to swim in. She might get bored eventually, but it would be a good kind of boredom—the sort that comes about when one's mind is truly at rest and there are no concerns other than what to eat for dinner.

   Since she was already wet and naked, not to mention slightly chilly, a dip in the hot tub seemed in order. As Drusilla sank into the bubbling foam, any tension that remained swiftly melted away.

   She hadn't been there for more than ten minutes or so when she heard a musical laugh nearby. Her eyes flew open to discover a bevy of Baradan females staring at her from the deck on the opposite side of the tub. Noting that these seemed to be the same women she'd spoken with at the spaceport, she made a mental note that "soon" apparently meant "immediately" to a Baradan.

   "We came to visit," Crystal said. "Perhaps this isn't the best time."

   "Probably not," Drusilla said with a chuckle. "But since you're already here… Sorry I'm not dressed for company."

   "Forgive the intrusion," Crystal said. "I believe you met Maria," she said, indicating Roger's mother, "and these ladies are Aretha and Dolly," she added, pointing to each of the others in turn.

   "Why am I not surprised you'd like the name Drusilla?" she said dryly.

   "Oh, yes, it is lovely!" Crystal said with enthusiasm. "Terran names have been very popular in this region ever since the first offworlders visited us," she confided. "And as for you not being dressed, that is why we came!" Holding up a strip of colorful fabric, she announced: "We made this especially for you!"

   Thanking her lucky stars that she had never been particularly well-endowed in the boob department, Drusilla accepted it graciously, noting that they had apparently been paying attention to her size because it actually looked as though it would fit. "Sorry I don't have any…" Her voice trailed off as Klog hummed through the door to hand Crystal two triplaks.

   "We have heard about this device," Aretha said with a gesture toward Klog. "Is it true that it knows what you want without being asked?"

   "Seems that way so far," Drusilla replied. "He's pretty handy, but I think it's a little spooky myself."

   Aretha laughed merrily, her musical voice making her laughter sound like part of an aria. "If only men could be like that!"

   This got a chorus of giggles from all of them, which, again, sounded slightly operatic.

   "Yes, but that's not always a good thing," Dolly pointed out. "I like to keep mine guessing."

   "And which one would that be?" Aretha prompted.

   Dolly stared at her friend in surprise. "There is only one!"

   "They are all clamoring for her attention," Maria explained. "Ah, to be so young and lovely!"

   Drusilla just smiled back, not daring to get into a discussion about just what made a female Baradan "lovely." She could see that Aretha and Maria appeared to be older than the other two, but the distinctions between lovely and not lovely were lost on her.

   Fortunately, Klog provided a diversion by firing up the grill.

   "Do you always heat your food before eating it?" Dolly asked curiously as she ventured closer to the grill.

   "Her people not only heat it," Aretha said knowledge ably, "but they eat meat too."

   Dolly was clearly revolted. "But that means you would have to kill something in order to eat it!"

   "Well, yes," Drusilla replied meekly, beginning to wish she was a strict vegetarian, "but usually someone else does that… And not all of our food is cooked—or has to be killed… "

   There was a loud sizzle as Klog plopped the thick, juicy steak on the grill. Dolly looked like she was going to be sick, her forked tongue darting in and out of her mouth with nervous rapidity and her hands an orange blur.

   "Perhaps we should not have come at a meal time," Maria said diplomatically as she pulled Dolly away from the source of her distress. "These younger ones have not fully grasped the concept of differences between offworld cultures… I hope you understand."

   "Of course," Drusilla said with a grin. "I understand completely! I was once on a planet where they ate their food alive—and it was mostly insects—it made me sick every time I—"

   This was too much for Dolly, and even Crystal turned a duller shade of orange.

   "Sorry!" Drusilla blurted out as the ladies hastily departed, singing their good-byes as they went.

   "Well, that certainly went over like a lead balloon," she commented to Klog. "I'm glad you're not squea mish. I mean, I like fruit and all, but—" She paused as he flipped the steak, which was now giving off a mouthwatering aroma. "There's just nothing quite like a good steak!"

   Klog chirped in agreement, though Drusilla seri ously doubted he had ever eaten anything, much less a steak.

***

Unknown to Drusilla, Manx's heart had nearly stopped when she pulled off her wet clothes. He had to get close enough to smell her now. He simply had to.

   Circling the lake, he approached the house from the opposite direction, watching as she came out onto the patio. Still naked. Still beautiful. His heart racing, he inhaled deeply and caught traces of her scent on the wind. Whatever she was feeling, it must have been sexual in nature because she was now aroused enough to send out a hail to him. As his cock stiffened in response, all he could think of was plunging it into her, using it to toy with her body, driving her wild with pleasure.

   But just as he caught a whiff of it, her enticing aroma was stifled once again when she entered the hot tub. Manx managed to control his reaction—something for which he was extremely thankful when, moments later, he saw the Baradan women approaching and, reluc tantly, withdrew.

   This inadvertent teasing was driving him mad, making him reckless with the need to get closer to her, but he waited until she was alone once again before attempting another look. Moving cautiously, he could see her sitting at the patio table. She had carelessly tied the strip of Baradan clothing around her breasts but was still essentially nude and smelled nearly as good as she had before.

   Manx was hungry too, and the aroma of good food coupled with that of hot woman was nearly his undoing. His feet wanted to run to her, his arms ached to hold her, and his penis was taut and dripping with anticipa tion. He'd never been so painfully, urgently hard before, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to give in to his desires and take her right then and there. But I have to find out more, he told himself firmly.
Just because she smells right is no reason to risk everything.

   Manx gripped his stiff shaft and closed his eyes, his teeth clenched tightly to hold back his roar of frustration. Cupping his balls in his other hand, he massaged them while he brought himself quickly to climax, his semen— or snard, as it was called in his native tongue—spewing forth with a force that astounded him, but left him wanting more. He knew what it was; it was
her
pleasure that was missing. He felt empty, perhaps even more so than if he'd remained flaccid. A hard cock was pointless unless there was a wet, willing, and intoxicating female to mate with. He wanted to see her face when she tasted his fluids, when he filled her with his snard and gave her joy.

   Manx could still smell her and his dick remained erect even though he'd just come harder than ever before. This was no ordinary female, he decided. How could he possibly resist mating with her another moment? Espe cially when her body was so enticingly on display? Her breasts may have been covered in the Baradan style, but it did nothing to disguise their shape, and the chair she sat in was open near her hips—he was closer now, and she still looked perfect.

   Without thinking, Manx began to purr, but stopped immediately as Drusilla spun around, seeking to discover the source of the sound. Manx froze, his stiff cock still thrust out in front of him as though seeking the source of its arousal. As she turned, Drusilla's knees spread apart and a breeze ruffled her hair, blowing her scent toward him with such a shocking blast that he almost roared again. Never had his senses been bombarded with such force.

***

"Who's there?" Drusilla called out. She paused, listening intently and peering through the trees in the direction of the sound. It had sounded like a purring cat, but a very large and possibly dangerous one. "Klog!" she shouted. "Come here, quick!"

   Klog appeared at the door almost instantly.

   "Are there any wildcats living around here?" Lester had assured her that there were no dangerous animals, but what would ignore a Baradan might think a Terran looked tasty.

   Klog replied with a low-pitched buzz.

   "Whatever
that
means," Drusilla muttered, renewing her intention to find out more about him. In the mean time, deciding that it might be best to finish her meal indoors, she gathered up her plate and cup and went inside. "Close the door and lock it," she said firmly. "And don't let the cat in."

   What the computer made of that last command, Drusilla didn't know and didn't care. Letting down her guard might have been a mistake—it was bad enough getting caught naked in the hot tub by the local women; what if it had been someone or something else? She resolved to be more cautious in the future—at least until she received some sort of reassurance from Lester.

   Once inside, Drusilla headed toward the kitchen with her plate, but paused for a moment as she noted the slickness between her thighs and her growing ache of arousal.

   "That's weird!" she remarked to the droid. "Never thought fear could do that." Chuckling softly, she added, "Must be because it sounded like a big, sexy tomcat." Klog, of course, made no comment, and Drusilla decided that it must have simply been some small, innocuous creature that just happened to sound like a purring tiger. "No biting insects, no dangerous animals" had been the key words in what Ralph had told her, and Lester had reinforced that claim. She was beginning to feel silly for having been so spooked, but she kept the door locked anyway. It was getting dark, and Drusilla had no desire to be eaten alive on her first night—or any other, for that matter.

   Finishing her dinner, Drusilla told Klog to clean up—though she was fairly certain she didn't need to ask. Returning to the living room, she pulled off the Baradan "bra" and snuggled up on the sofa under a light blanket. The ache had persisted and was, in fact, growing stronger. "Haven't felt this horny in years—maybe ever," she commented aloud. Her nipples tingled and she brushed them lightly with her fingertips, which did nothing to cause the feeling to abate. Having a man around might have helped, but sex had always been so unsatisfying, and Drab Dave had never touched her at all. "Which should have been my first clue," she said morosely, and went on to make a list of the attributes that her perfect man should possess.

   Heterosexual was the first requirement, followed by a nice, friendly personality. "Tired of dealing with jerks," she grumbled. "Handsome would be a plus. And a decent-sized cock—one that he'd actually use for sex—and the more often, the better." Sighing deeply, she added, "It'd be nice if he couldn't keep his hands off of me too… dick always hard… good sense of humor… killer smile… cute butt… nice hair."

   Laughing out loud as she remembered how that purring sound seemed to have affected her, she concluded that since this was, after all, a fantasy man, he might as well be able to purr too.

   Closing her eyes dreamily, Drusilla's fingertips feathered her nipples again while her other hand slid to her clitoris. As her fingers slipped over her moist, sensi tive flesh, she lamented the fact that this was happening when she was out in the middle of nowhere where the only men to be had were orange toads and slimy mudskippers! Must be all the fresh air and nudity, she decided. Perhaps if I get dressed it'll go away…

   She considered this alternative but then dismissed it as nonsense and rushed boldly on into the arms of erotic fantasy. Sex with her perfect man… one who would kiss her all over, devouring her body with his lips and tongue, driving her insane with desire. She could almost feel his hard, wet cock gliding over her cheeks and lips before he pushed it into her mouth. Drusilla's body contracted in an orgasm that had nothing to do with her clitoris, but she stroked it faster, imagining that she was savoring his delicious cock while she massaged his heavy balls. Her body tightened as she felt her orgasm begin. Picturing his hard cock filling her with hot cream, splashing it in her face, her mouth, and her hair, his imaginary climactic cry became her own.