Destiny's Choice is an original work of fiction, a science fiction thriller of novel length with uber qualities. The plot is layered with romance, political intrigue, sex, and violence. At times the drama can be intense. Enjoy. Once completed I hope to find a publisher. I appreciate comments good and bad, especially if they are constructive.


Chapter 17: First Times

"Okay˜finally˜save Sovereignty 5 and MIC2156 to Demo5 folder."

VAS bleeped. "Elise Newcastle on Line Five."

"Hold," Hayley replied to the VAS system and then muttered under her breath, "It's on its way. I told you I would be done at 1930. It's˜" Hayley glanced at the time in the lower left-hand corner of the screen. "It's 1915. Hah! ˜ What now? Nothing I do ever seems good enough. VAS, put Ms. Newcastle through."

The image of Christine's assistant appeared in the upper right hand corner of her screen. "Dr. Genetti." Her address was formal, rigid, her appearance grave. Her usual look, but an added scowl told Hayley that the petulant had been annoyed with being placed on hold.

Why doesn't she just come right out and snarl? Hayley thought.

"Chief Stone would like to see you in her office, immediately." A smile tilted the corners of her lips.

"On my way," Hayley responded as the assistant's image winked out.

Unable to help herself, Hayley couldn't hide her joy. Nearly two weeks had passed. First the moon, then Earth, Mars, and back to the moon, the joy of light-speed had made the trips quick, but a series of long meetings, or so Hayley had imagined, had kept her boss away. It wasn't as if Christine˜ah, Chief Stone˜had contacted her, but her time away from Parliamentary had been prolonged and the buzz with whom she might be sleeping, just like in any office, had made the rounds.

Hayley had felt a nagging sense of disappointment. It wasn't as if her kisses were suppose to mean anything˜but still, she had thought˜and the disappointment nagged. Stupid! She had chastised herself more than once. Stupid! Why would she, Christine Stone, the Governor General's Chief of Staff and the most eligible woman in the entire U.G.C., be interested in an introverted bookworm like you?

But now, Christine had returned. Kept in meetings, or so Hayley had supposed, she had no reason to simply "pop by." It wasn't as if Christine'd appreciate it, she'd told herself. So she had continued with her assignment. Sending Eisenstatt revisions of drafts and new drafts in such a flurry she had been surprising herself. Non-communicative, he would only say everything was "great" and ask when she could tweak this or that or start the process of loading her archival and V.R. data. So that was what she had been doing every night, except when Carol had visited, and that had been only the first weekend. This last one she had stayed at home so Sparky knew she still existed and worked from her home terminal.

And now, Christine, no, Chief Stone, had asked Elise to call her to her office. "I hope she likes what I've done," she smoothed her skirt and stood as she spoke to her grandmother's picture.


"Present," Hayley presented herself to Elise Newcastle. Hayley could not miss the unmistakable peachy fragrance in the air. It came from a bottle of perfume Elise kept in a small desk drawer.

"She probably washes in it," Hayley had complained to Carol after the incident in the locker room.

"You don't like her much." Carol had lifted a spring roll to her mouth.

"Carol, you're just too astute," she'd hung her head. "I don't know what I've done wrong. I've always been nice, polite, friendly˜she's so cold˜severe. Not once has she ever asked. She always orders. To tell you the truth she scares me."

"We have some brass like that. They just like letting the underlings know who's boss. Maybe, that's how she feels."

"Maybe." Carol's logic made sense.

But logic didn't make working with Elise Newcastle any easier. Nor was the idea of having to make an appearance in her office. The only consolation was the fact that Christine had asked for her.

Seeing Hayley, Elise put down a black highlighter she had been using on her lips and threw her teased platinum hair back off her shoulder. She wore the usual matron uniform of the executive bureaucracy. As usual the top button was undone. Seeing Hayley her expression hardened. "Chief Stone'll be with you in a minute," she snapped with disdain. She motioned for Hayley to take a seat, almost as if she were shooing away a pesky insect.

Obediently, Hayley did as ordered. Elise put a final coat on her lips.

After several minutes the door opened. A tall, older gentleman with thick silver-red hair stepped into the frame. He wore a pair of simple black slacks, a rustic red and blue plaid shirt popular in the outer colonies, and a pair of black working boots that zipped up the side. His face was grim, almost angry. "Won't you at least rethink your position and look at our petition?"

"I'm sorry, Warren, but my hands are tied."

Warren? Hayley thought to herself, wondering where she'd seen the face.

"Tied, my ass!" The one Christine called Warren spied Elise. Positioned so either could look down the opening in her blouse, she smiled. Warren seemed to pay her little attention. Christine returned the smile.

"Excuse me." The visitor focused on Hayley and his expression turned from anger to one of recognition. "Aren't you Dr. Genetti?"

"Yes." She stood.

"I saw you a couple of weeks ago with Chief Stone here at one of Parliamentary's Chinese eateries. A friend of mine had your book, so I took a peek. Where No Man Has Gone Before. Good book. Well argued."

"Thank you, and you?" she asked.

"Warren McClurg."

"And this," Christine took charge, her expression a mix of annoyance and coyness. The chief's facial cast gave her the impression that she should be anywhere but the reception area of her office. "This is our Minister of Historical Education, Dr. Hayley Genetti,"

"Your law of mobility! I wish I had time to discuss it more fully?"

"Are you a historian?" asked Hayley.

"An aficionado˜but, I remember your name from somewhere else," McClurg thought aloud, suddenly snapping her fingers. "A series of educational programs˜about ten years ago. You wrote and programmed the simulations with a Dr. Edwards-Carbonalli˜"

"My grandmother."

"My wife used them in her classroom."

"You and she a teacher?" Hayley asked.

"At the Academic Conservatory on Ceta Bine Two. She's the history teacher. I teach exo-botany. She's used your simulations on Anton Brezhinski and the Martian Constitution. I've seen them a couple of times. Thoroughly enjoyable˜and inspirational. So tell me, Dr. Genetti, what do you feel about colonial independence and self-determination˜sovereignty? Favor or against?"

"Favor," Hayley responded. Christine crossed her arms. "Mars was once a colony."

"And you're a Martian?"

"Born, bred˜"

"Perhaps then," McClurg turned toward Stone, "you can speak to your boss. Persuade her to at least give Ceta Bine Two's petition for autonomy a study. Outline the historical impetus behind our movement."

Ouch! Hayley suddenly noticed Christine's stance--her face and remembered the faux pa she had made their last night together at the restaurant. She winced. "I'll see what I can do," she said. She looked for a hint of a smile in Christine's stone expression. She saw none.

"That's all I ask," McClurg shook her hand. She pointed at Christine. "Listen to your historian. Dictatorships rarely succeed."

As McClurg left the office and headed for the outer hallway, Hayley turned to Christine. "Warren's a nice man. Christine?"

Christine's facial caste was dark, distant. She gave a nod that told Hayley to enter her office. A covert grin spread across Elise's face as she passed.

The door swished like a guillotine on its tracks. Christine walked over to the bar she kept stocked in the back right corner of her office. Taking a glass she filled it with a clear liquid. She drank.


"Why are you here?" She turned.

"Elise called. She said you wanted to see me." Hayley naively continued. "I didn't mean to cause you any problems, but Mr. McClurg is correct about the colonial petitions˜at least, in so far as," she couldn't help herself. She knew the history. She had made a promise.

"Quiet!" Christine roared. She slammed the glass on the shelf. Liquid spilled. "Haven't we already had this discussion?"

"Yes," Hayley said diffidently.

"Don't you ever open your trap like that again! Do you hear me?"

Instinctively, Hayley retreated a step. Her heart skipped. "What?"

"You do not make policy in this administration!"

"I never˜" Hayley stuttered.

"You interfered in business not yours. I brought you here to do a job."

"Yes." Hayley forced herself to breathe.

"I don't think so. You're a Genetti! You come from a family that exudes politics."

"And I told you when we first met, I am a historian, a teacher˜"

"Keep your mouth shut!"

"We talked about˜"

"You told him you believed in sovereignty! He asked you to talk to me about Ceta Bine Two. McClurg is an opponent of this administration, a supporter of Light Horse."

"I didn't know."

"I'm going to say this just once. I can't have you going around embarrassing me like you just did."

Hayley blinked. "I didn't mean˜"

"I'm telling you how the game is played here, defining loyalty."

"I am."

"You have no idea about the hundreds of negotiations this office deals with on a daily basis. As a representative of this office, you can't just go and give your opinion without permission!"

"I'm sorry." Hayley blinked. A tear fell.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes." Her lip trembled.

"As a Genetti, you should know better!" Christine turned her back and slammed her hands down on her desk.

Stunned and speechless, Hayley couldn't check the tears coursing freely over and down her cheeks and nose. "I knew this wouldn't work," she finally stuttered in a voice barely a whisper. "I'm a teacher, a research historian˜I resign." She turned to retreat and pack her office.

"Hayley, no!" Christine seized her arm and pulled her back.

The momentum brought the two face-to-face. In shame and sorrow, Hayley avoided the anger she knew she would see in her boss's expression.

"Hey," the voice gentled and a finger tilted her chin. "I'm sorry," Christine shrugged apologetically.

"I'm not cut out for this. Knowing what to say˜when? Who to speak with, who not to˜and about what? You mean I can't have opinions or tell people˜you what I think, or believe to be true?"

"Of course you can," Christine's gently wiped away the tears on her face. Hayley sniffed. "Please, forgive me, but you came˜let's just say Warren McClurg and I had just had a pretty heated exchange. He came without warning, no invitation, or appointment. You caught me at a bad moment."

"Still, I don't think," she sniffed.

"I have a nasty temper; I admit it, but˜I," Her thumbs still caressing Hayley's cheeks, Christine's rich full lips spread into a hesitant, almost bashful grin, "I wish I could leap into a time machine and go back ten minutes. Instead of paging you, I would've simply come down to your office. I've wanted to tell you just how much I like your work. Ivan's shown me clips. He's just so thrilled˜pleased, and so am I."

"Really?" Mesmerized, yet meekly, Hayley smiled.

"Yeah," Christine pulled Hayley's face closer, her thumbs traced her lips.

Hayley forced herself to continue breathing.

"I'm so sorry. All I've wanted, all I've needed˜all I've thought about the last two weeks is you."

"Really?" Hayley spoke in wonder.

"Really," Christine said. Dipping her head, she pressed her lips to Hayley's˜ once, lightly.

"I missed you," Hayley blinked.

"I'm glad." Christine once again took possession of her lips, first brushing then nibbling˜her tongue seeking entrance and then thrusting until every nerve ending sizzled, demanding, and Hayley responded, taking what the tutor had taught and was teaching letting emotions inflamed soar. She heard herself groan and she pulled Christine tighter, wrapping her arms tighter around her neck.

"Go to dinner with me tonight?" Christine whispered when she came up for a breath.

"I could cook for you," Hayley gave Christine's lips a quick kiss.

"You cook?" Christine played tit-for-tat.

"How about pasta?" Hayley pulled back, her smile removing all traces of her tears and sorrow.

"I'll bring wine?"

"Okay. When?"

"Nineteen thirty?"

"That sounds nice."

Christine chuckled, her smile making her more beautiful then any woman Hayley had every known. "So you have much left to do today?"

"Not much," Hayley giggled.

"Then why don't you shut down. I know you haven't taken much time off, diligent workaholic, you." Christine touched her chin. "I know you've given Ivan more than enough material. Give you time to start dinner. I have a feeling you cook from scratch."

"I only make the best for my friends."

Christine raised her brows. "I certainly think we've moved beyond mere friends." Her voice was low and sultry.

"Maybe," Hayley tried to remain cool and casual as her lips twisted into a wry grin. She giggled.

"I guess we'll see," Christine chuckled. "Now go on. I have a bit more to do here. A conference call." Hayley turned to go. "Hayley." Hayley paused. "And if you like," once again her voice dipped. It was low, sensual, almost gravely. It sent a shudder through Hayley's very core sparking a need she had kept hidden. "I'll bring dessert."

"Something sweet?" She asked as Christine brushed her lips.

"Oh, yeah,"

Another kiss, this one longer.

"Maybe chocolate?" Hayley asked..

"Maybe," teasing tinted Christine's voice.

The kissing was becoming something more.

"If I don't cook, I'll never get dinner fixed," Hayley fought for breath.

"Maybe, we'll go straight to dessert." Christine pulled away. "By Venus, you're delicious. And if you don't get going I'll never finish what I need to get done."

"Then I should go," Hayley still breathed heavily.

"If you don't˜," Hayley could swear Christine face was aglow. Her eyes certainly shimmered and twinkled calling her back for more. "Okay," Hayley pushed away. "Gotta go. Gotta go. Shut down, go home, cook." She didn't move. "You like lasagna?"

"Love it," Christine chuckled.

"Okay. Lasagna. Lasagna." Hayley reached up for one last quick kiss. "One for the road," she presumed.

"Until˜," Christine did likewise, then chuckling again, gave Hayley's butt a playful swat. "Home, girl. Home."


"And I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good," Hayley edged for the door hoping they might share one last kiss.

Christine didn't follow.

The door to the reception area opened.

Elise looked up.

"Okay, boss," Hayley unconsciously smoothed her clothes and as professionally as possible exited into the waiting room and then out back to her office. One quick glance back she spied Christine in the door jam, watching.

I wonder, she thought, her nerves suddenly jittery and excited all at once, afraid and daring.


Hayley placed two plates of lasagna on the quaint checker place mats. A rich marinara sauce chalked full of freshly diced green, red, and yellow bell pepper, mushrooms, black olives, onions, and Italian sausage seeped through the layers of spinach, zucchini, cottage and mozzarella cheeses, and extra wide noodles. Hayley added a wicker basket containing sliced sourdough, a small plate with a dozen pats of butter, and a dish of freshly grated Italian cheeses to the table.

"I'm starving." Christine inhaled the tantalizing aroma rising up from her plate as she filled two voluminous glasses with her favorite burgundy. She took a piece of bread and buttered it.

Sitting opposite her guest, Hayley sprinkled several spoonfuls of cheese on her entree. She watched Christine cut through her pasta and spear a mouthful. Misty steam rose from the food. Christine blew gently and then placed the fork into her mouth. She nodded approvingly as she chewed. "Very good," she slurped. "Hayley, you continually surprise me. You are a woman of many talents."

"You'd be amazed." Hayley wiggled her eyebrows, and then smirked when Stone laughed and shook her head.

"I bet." Christine took a sip of her wine. "I had a long talk with Ivan after you left this afternoon."

"Really?" Hayley paused, her fork resting with a lasagna stack oozing sauce. Her stomach tightened.

"He's happy with your work and is ahead of schedule. We went through some casting ideas for the film. We thought you might want to sit in on the process. I've gone through your simulation programs. They're good as well."

"I'm glad." Hayley resumed eating. She swallowed. "I've worked hard."

"I can tell. How did you put those simulations together so fast?"

"Tweaked a couple of programs I use with my classes."



"Another of your hidden talents?"

Hayley giggled. "I guess, but it wasn't that hard."

"Used a virtual programming editor?" Stone asked flatly.

"It's a hobby my friend Carol had. She taught me when we were kids, and I," she sipped from a glass of water, "took to it. Used it for many, well we often used it for our assignments. She's still using it for her engine designs. Of course the software she uses is much more sophisticated, but I've played with it a little."

"Carol?" Stone's expression hardened.

Hayley didn't miss it. "Yeah," she smiled, hoping her dinner companion would look less grim. "She's my best friend."

"You mean that sky jockey want-to-be you hung around with at your sister's wedding?"

"Sky jockey?" Hayley blurted, her laughter a loud guffaw.

"Yeah," Christine's expression relaxed. "

"You got that from Bruce," Hayley chuckled. Stone shook her head. "When we were kids that was his nickname for her. The sky jockey and the bookworm˜ that was what he called us. Still does." Hayley regained her composure as she spoke. "That and the brain trust."

"Do the nicknames bother you?"

"Nah, not with family˜but to be honest, there are times. Me, I mean, not Carol. Sometimes I get defensive˜being the butt of jokes I mean. Carol's much more easy-going about it. In fact she pretty much takes everything as it comes. I'm the worrier. I worry about everything and she keeps me centered. In fact she stopped by the weekend before last. We had the best time."

"I guess you miss her?" Stone laid her fork on her empty plate and poured another glass of wine.

"Always˜she and my folks, Delores, and Bruce, but with Bruce here, Mom and Dad's business, and Tanner stationed at Armstrong˜"


"Carol's fiancé. He and the last graduates from MU's cadet corps were assigned to Armstrong last week. Carol hopes to join him as soon as her doctoral thesis is complete."


"Yeah, in engine design and propulsion, but funny thing is, with Tanner commanding a squadron, I know Carol'll want to follow. Who knows what'll happen, but she's already completed the paper work to join him as his second."

"Seems a waste."

"Not with Carol. She's a genius; we both attended the Mensa Academy."

"I heard you had gone." Hayley's face scrunched quizzically. "Bruce told me, plus it's in your dossier."

"Ah, yeah. I forgot."

"Don't tell me you're one of those scatterbrained nerds." Christine chuckled, her cheeks pink, her hazel-brown eyes glistening with humor.

Hayley smirked, her expression coy. "`Fraid so˜at times."

"So when did you begin Mensa?"

"At three. I was already reading by two and˜don't act all surprised." Hayley warned her tone light.

"With you, never." Christine reached across the table and took Hayley's hand.

The hand was warm, the skin soft and silky. Without looking too conspicuous, Hayley looked at the clasped hands. Christine's thumb, long and splendid, just like the rest of her elegant fingers, caressed the ribs along the back of her hand. The sensation brought a shiver and a flush to her face. Damn, idiot! Hayley cursed herself as she knew Christine could see the effect her touch was producing.

"So?" Christine's voice brought Hayley back to the present.

"Huh?" Hayley looked up.

"And your friend the sky jockey? When did she start?"

"At the same time, except she was great with math." Hayley was having a hard time keeping her mind focused˜at least focused on the conversation at hand.

"Were you friends before?"

"Her mother's a lawyer and worked in my mom's office. Well," Hayley removed her hand. "Let me get these into the recycler." She gathered the empty dishes and took them into the kitchen, which was already immaculate. She had already recycled all the prep pans.

"Want some help?' Christine rose.

"No," Hayley quipped. "You're the guest of honor. Sit back. Finish your wine." Her hands shook as she opened the recycler and organized the dishes.

"I might not know my way around a kitchen, but I am great with the recycler." Christine rose. "Besides," she pressed the cork back into the bottle of wine, "I'm done." She handed Hayley her empty glass.

Hayley took it and put it in its place on the belt. Suddenly, as Hayley closed the recycler door, a pair of long arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. Lips pressed lightly against her neck. They tickled. A shiver ran down her spine.

"That dinner was scrumptious," Christine whispered.

"I'm glad," Hayley's voice sputtered along with her breath.

"Any dessert?"

"Since you forgot?" Hayley teased. Christine had been late. It had been twenty hundred hours when she had finally arrived sans dessert. "Yeah, I have some chocolate-peanut butter ice cream," she whispered.


Christine turn her. "I wasn't thinking of anything cold. I'm in the mood for something warm," she paused to nibble her neck, "Something sweet." Christine pulled back, her eyes capturing Hayley's with such intensity, "Something beyond delectable." With her last throaty whisper, a pair of ravenous lips brushed, first lightly, and then devoured hers.

"As the kiss lengthened," Hayley wrapped her arms around Christine's neck. Pulling her tightly, Hayley responded, boldly pressing her tongue to explore and taste the craving begging for satisfaction.

"Come . . . a little dessert." Christine led her to the couch. "VAS, lights five percent."

The lights dimmed leaving the apartment in gray shadows. Pulling Hayley close, she held her tightly and renewed the feast her lips had started in the kitchen.

Hayley pressed her breasts against Christine's throbbing chest and mimicked the circling caresses Christine's hand made on her back; an intense desire possessed her soul. Fighting against the panic it incited, Hayley pushed back the building desire to retreat from the passions threatening to consume her.

Groaning, coming up briefly for air, Christine's hand detoured. Following the curves of her moderate frame, it cupped her breast. It squeezed. Shuddering, her anxieties merged with tingling excitement. Her hand still cupping her breast, her tongue thrusting deeply into her willing, eager mouth, Christine pushed Hayley back against the couch until she lay on top.

"Hayley," she whispered her name. Her mouth increased its hold, stealing Hayley's breath. Her hand grabbed, pushed, and molded. Hayley's mind spun madly, acutely aware of Christine's lips, her mouth, her tongue, her ever-wandering hand, and the building pressure within her groin.

She gasped. Her body shivered. A thousand amps of electricity coursed throughout, jolting her nerve-ways with an excitement she found increasingly difficult to control. She couldn't breath. Her mind admonished her to push Christine away, to run.

Christine's mouth ran down the side of her cheek stopping to nibble with ticklish satisfaction on an ear lobe.

"I love you, Hayley," She whispered.

In the grayish light, Christine's plaintive gaze begged with unspoken words. Her lips curled. She kissed her mouth again, gently˜then again and again until her mouth exploded with frenzied desire into hers. Holding her head in her hands, Hayley pulled so their lips remained firmly locked.

With nimble fingers, Christine unfastened the buttons protecting Hayley's modesty. Moving through the opening with unwavering purpose, her hand pushed up her bra and explored the flesh within.

"Christine." She wasn't sure if she was protesting or urging her on. "Christine."

She shuddered as Christine's hand clasped the fleshy breast and worked it with the dexterity of a baker kneading fresh dough. Pressing up and down, the excitement of the discovery sent a shiver through the body lying on top of her, and then another until in waves of uncontrollable excitement, she completely removed Hayley's blouse and threw it on the floor.

"Christine˜" Hayley could barely speak her name.

"Hayley˜" Christine's voice quivered.

Before she could lie back down, Christine's eager hands had again found the bare bosoms she desired; then her mouth, and with uncontrolled prurience Christine bit, twisted, tweaked, and sucked with abandon.

Hayley gasped. She had never known such sensations. One hand, one breast˜then two hands and two breasts. When Christine's mouth had finished its game of tag, her wet sensual kisses traveled along a path to the breast that had been the first to give her such delight. She kissed it once, twice, thrice, until her mouth suckled ravenously for the nourishment it might provide.

Hayley's back arched with each of her sucking kisses. Her trembling hands cradled her head, brushing her wavy auburn hair as if her new lover might be an infant babe.

Satisfying her current hunger, Christine's mouth released its hold on Hayley's virgin teat. Releasing her for just a moment, she removed her own shirt. Hayley found her hands helping her and then eagerly cupping the muscular curves that fell free. Reclining together, their bare chests pressed tightly together, they kissed. Again, Christine's hands renewed their play as they deftly molded the supple flesh pressing against her. Shivering with excitement, Hayley groaned. She hoped Christine would never stop.

Then, a hand detoured. Sliding along her side, it came to rest on her thigh and then a buttock.

"I need you," She whispered. "I love you, Hayley."

"I love you, too," Hayley repeated the declaration. "I love˜" She pressed himself tightly against Christine and sought entrance into her mouth.

Releasing her for a moment, Christine, without any fanfare or permission, stripped Hayley and then herself of the rest of their clothing. Naked, she returned to possess Hayley's body. "I love your body," her lips and hand resumed their assault, dominating, owning. From her full ripe nipples to thighs slick with wanting, to her buttocks, the onslaught came.

Hayley shivered. Her mind spun, trying to beat back the base, erotic instincts taking hold. Fear urged her to retreat, to reclaim the sensibilities that had protected her, but moving in time to Christine's increased frenzy and gyrations, sighing with her sighs, and echoing her lascivious gasps, she knew she had become a slave to the lust carrying her along in its wake. Forget all logic! Her knees bent and parted. Passion ruled the day, and then in one explosive fit, as she cried out, Christine penetrated her.

The pain was bright as Hayley felt tearing flesh. The thick vaginal fluids that had collected during the foreplay ran quick and warm. The muscles within rebelled, contracted.

"No," she protested. She tried to push her off. "You're hurting me."

But Christine was too big, too strong. Keeping a hold of her shoulders, she pushed, thrusted two, then three, then˜Hayley was sure an entire fist˜into her sex.

"Relax," Christine said. "Sometimes it hurts the first time."

Hayley gulped, squinting, pushing back the pain.

"Relax, Hayley. You'll enjoy it."

Christine's gyrations became more rhythmic. A hand played again with her right breast, her erogenous zone. She moaned. Hayley looked up. Gone was the bright, loving expression that had pulled her in its wake during dinner. Determination, lust, ego, whatever it was, Hayley didn't know.

Lips returned to take hold, first swallowing her tongue as if an oyster, her teeth the skin at her pulse point, each lick, nip, a thrust timed to the rhythms pressing into her soul.

Hayley listened to her own breathing. It had calmed. The pain was still there, but it wasn't as bright. She was warm˜then hot. She was perspiring. The pressure of her loins and the swelling within, and its rhythmic movement, just like her tongue, stimulated and aroused her body. She was moving to her, in concert. The instinctive response had come, not from her experience, but from some genetic predisposition.

"Hayley," Christine spoke her name. She pushed. Her body moved. She groaned and pressed harder. Again, Christine called her name.

This time she responded. "Oh, Christine!" she cried out and˜

Her rational mind went blank.


She woke. Her eyes scanned the darkened room. She was in bed. Nude, her head rested on a pillow. A strong arm lay curled around her waist holding her down in place. At first taken aback by the strangeness of her circumstances and the blur of the evening, Hayley couldn't quite remember how they had gotten into the bedroom. After a moment, she remembered.

Confined by the padding of the couch's backrest, Christine had found her gymnastics restricted. Stopping her play, but only momentarily, she had pulled Hayley up from the couch and had led her back into the bedroom. Admiring the play of shadows and light on her glistening skin and her bare loins and nipples, Christine had pulled her close and renewed the exploration of her body with her curious hands. Hayley had giggled, playfully pulling back as they walked. Christine's lips followed. They kissed, Christine's hands playing with the flesh of her buttocks. She'd pull Hayley close, pressing their thighs so tightly that Hayley thought that perhaps they might dance a bolero.

"Do you still love me?" she had asked.

Christine had smiled. "I'm going to love you now and for the rest of the night." She had turned Hayley and had laid her on the bed. "You're my enchantress." Christine had covered her with her body and played a moment with the long Lady Godiva mane hanging limply over her shoulders and across her breasts.

"I want you˜"

"Ssh˜" Christine had kissed her and then smiled. Reflecting the station's external strobes filtering in through the window on the adjacent wall, her eyes danced beneath laughing pools of epicurean joy and Hayley had surrendered herself completely.

Waking now, Hayley looked back down at the sleeping figure holding her. Though asleep, her breath, hitting against her bare shoulder, aroused her. She smiled remembering their encounters and the titillating heat of their passion. She wondered how Christine would feel now in the soberness of day. Would she be but one of her coquettes, a simple conquest, or perhaps a one time fling, a dalliance for the evening?

Hayley examined the nightstand by her bed. Seven hundred hours. She needed to get up. Too much needed tending. Gently moving Christine's hand aside, Hayley slipped from her sleeping embrace. Sliding out of bed, she paused when her lover groaned and rolled over.

Going into the bathroom, she used the facilities and then began her shower. She was rinsing the last of the soap from her hair when a shadow covered her. Turning back with a start, she was surprised to see Christine in the doorway. Her eyes were wide with delight as she watched Hayley through the shower's translucent doors. Fearfully, and with some awe, as she had not really looked at her paramour during the night, she studied the anatomy on display. During their evening of lovemaking, she had cautiously let her hands explore Christine's taut muscles; encouraged when they rubbed a place that seemed to bring her delight. As she studied Christine's womanly qualities, Hayley felt like a giggly teenager coming across her first Cosmo-Galacia centerfold.

Stopping at the toilet, Christine relieved herself.

"I thought I heard the shower." Hayley said nothing as Christine pushed aside the door and joined her. Stepping beneath the stream of water, she let the spray flow over her head. Her pink-tan skin shimmered. "That feels good," she said, opening her eyes. Taking Hayley by her arms, Christine pulled her close. She kissed her. "Good morning, Love."

Holding Christine close, Hayley returned the kiss. Her tongue thrust deeply. Her lips were hard as she pressed against Christine. Unimpeded, the water from the spray ran down their faces and along their slick naked bodies.

"Here, let me help you," Christine took the cloth in her hand and wiped away the soap on her back.

Hayley's breath left her as her hand did its task and then sought out her less accessible places. She giggled Christine's name and battled the desires she knew they shared. She grinned knowingly, obviously enjoying the titillating excitement her lover's erotic touch brought.

"My turn." Christine handed her the rag.

Hayley washed Christine's back and chest, taking special pleasure with the breasts. Then she looked down at her lovers genitals. She swallowed and then moved the rag to her thigh. Taking the rag from her hand, Christine pulled Hayley's hand so that it brushed against her sex.

Hayley hoped she wasn't shaking. Only once or twice during the night, had she even brushed across Christine's soft brown down. Christine had led, choreographing Hayley's every move, just like now. And Hayley knew. She had clutched the firm buttocks when Christine had gyrated their sexes in the dance of primordial need. She had touched, but not . . . .

Consuming her mouth, Christine took Hayley's captured hand and plunged two fingers inside.

"Oh!" She ground herself and slamming Hayley against the shower wall, did the same until the first wave ebbed. "Come˜water off." She led Hayley from the shower, draping a towel around her shoulders to catch the water dripping from her hair.

"What are you doing?" Hayley asked, knowing Christine's intentions as she was led back to the bed. "We're wet. I should really get ready for work."

"It's the weekend. We need to rest," Christine responded as she forced Hayley against the edge of the bed and made her sit. She pushed Hayley, barely letting her legs retract. Her eyes burned with madness.

With her legs bent, but still nearly upright, Christine straddled Hayley's core and found the fingers Hayley had used in the shower. Once again dictating the action, Christine thrust the digits into her center and erupted. Vigorously, she cupped Hayley's breasts and pushed. The flesh, like clay, moved in her hands. With increasing vigor, the experienced woman fondled and twisted and tweaked. Hayley gasped. There was pain, more than when Christine had ended her virginity as once more Christine was penetrating her. She was hurting her. Still Christine didn't let up and soon only the frantic creaking of the rocking bed and Christine's pleasurable gasps and groans filled Hailey's senses. Feeling the undulation within and the climax of their shared eroticism, Hailey gasped again, loudly.

They were becoming one and she came to conclude that Christine was trying to crawl inside her very soul, to possess her completely. Pulling herself close, she tried to lick the bare tits staring at her from her smooth, white chest. She strained. Christine strained, pushing even harder. They groaned loudly. They rolled. Their fingers and thumbs still penetrating and stiff, they held one another fast within their swollen vaginas.

Looking up at the two inviting breasts hanging within arms reach, Christine's grave expression melted and her eyes cleared. She smiled. "You learn fast," She said.

Hayley returned the smile, aware of the change in their positions, but fascinated by the control she possessed.

Her hands, with unaccustomed apprehension, cupping one breast and then the other, she began a gentle massage. Entranced by the touch, her body relaxed into her supportive brace. She moved. She moved within. Her eyes glazed over, but an impish grin remained as their loins copulated with increasing excitement.

"Oh my! Christine! Christine!" she cried out with orgasmic delight. Exhausted, she collapsed; her heart beat wildly.

"I love you, Hayley," Christine whispered as Hayley lay across her.

Hayley could feel her heart was racing, too. "And I love you, with all my heart," she said. "I love you so much."

Next part

Return to the Academy