LOST COLONY CH. 08-3

“What do you call it?” Sparr asked, raising his drink.

Instead of answering, Calista lifted herself just enough to pour them both a refill. Like Sparr, she seemed to be settling comfortably into the yielding, sand-cushioned towel. Then, just when he thought she would ignore the question, the blonde responded.

“Sex on the beach.”

Sparr laughed. “What?”

“It’s an ancient cocktail recipe. You’ll never guess how I stumbled upon it.”

He had a pretty good idea. Everything about their evening was out of character for Calista. He had taken her kayaking weeks earlier, but only after practically dragging her along. Other than that, they only spent time together in competitive pursuits like racquetball or game night. The bikini was another clue. Calista could easily have worn a more modest suit or a dive skin. The athletic cut of the bikini highlighted her toned figure, and she hadn’t even bothered to pull on a cover afterward. Her eagerness to remain with him on the beach, sipping drinks as the sun set all but confirmed it.

“Well,” Sparr said, “I’d say you stumbled upon it during a desperate search for tips on how to seduce a magnificent specimen of a man after cruelly shunning him for more than a month.”

She gave him a playful punch. “Desperate? I’m sure you know, Alain, that whenever I want a man in my quarters all I have to do is snap my fingers.” She made an exaggerated snap but didn’t lose her flirtatious smile.

“So, you agree on the ‘magnificent specimen’ part, then.”

“Let’s just say,” Calista began before trailing off. She reached a hand to stroke Sparr’s chest, sliding and twirling her fingers through his body hair, “that lately the stress of preparing for this mission has left me in need of…” Here she paused again, her blue eyes meeting his. “Release.”

Sparr rested a hand on Calista’s hip, brushing the top of her bikini bottoms. “I do know my way around a release valve,” he said. “But what makes you think-“

“Because you’re easy, Alain,” Calista said, cutting him off. “Or so they say.” Her fingers slipped from his chest downward, over his abdomen.

“Hey, I’m not easy!” Sparr objected. Like Calista, his hand was on the move, stroking the blonde’s shapely ass. “You had to take me snorkeling, feed me, ply me with drinks… I’m very discerning!”

“I’m discerning something right now,” Calista said. Her hand began to explore his soft but full cock through the fabric of his board shorts. A note of surprise crept into her voice. “I’m really discerning something.”

Sparr shot a nervous glance back up the trail they had descended just two hours earlier. All he saw was seagrass waving in the evening air.

Calista noticed. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I set a proximity alert for anyone with an Alliance implant.” She wriggled closer. “Looks like it’s only us tonight.”

They kissed. There was nothing tentative about it, neither of the two lacking confidence or desire. Calista’s mouth was open, welcoming, and wet. Sparr’s was hungry. Anyone observing the pair might have guessed they were long-separated lovers, finding a moment at last to reunite.

Sparr’s hand slid up from Calista’s ass, exploring first the taut muscles of her back, then farther, reaching the fabric of her bikini top. He traced his fingers along its contours, teasing first the gap where the fabric passed over the hollow of her back, then easing toward the side. When at last his fingers could span enough flesh, he squeezed her breast.

“Mmmm,” Calista moaned. “I’ve been wanting those hands on me.” Her own was busy, groping and squeezing Sparr’s cock through his suit. “And this guy agrees.”

She wasn’t wrong. Sparr’s erection was increasingly obvious, straining against the fabric of the suit for escape. Meanwhile, his fingers continued to toy with the edges of Calista’s top. It was maddening. The suit had an athletic design, meant to stay in place during exercise, not pop free just by tinkering with a clasp. Sparr gave up, nudged Calista to a seated position, then wriggled his fingers under the sides of her top. The blonde smiled and obliged him by raising her arms. He tugged the top up, liberating her breasts, then carefully worked it free of her increasingly wild locks.

Calista lay back, grinning up at Sparr. The barrier she so often threw up was gone, replaced by a sexy, cool confidence. She knew what she had. The blonde’s breasts were full and soft, seemingly separate from her otherwise taut body. Sparr eased her back onto the towel, eager to continue.

The couple’s next kiss was more exploratory. After their lips met, Sparr’s mouth began to wander, kissing near Calista’s ear, down her neck, and along her shoulder. He found her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.

“You taste salty,” Sparr said, his mouth continuing down her body.

“I’ll be sure to bring a portable shower next time.” Calista ran her fingers through Sparr’s tousled, black hair.

An inch before he reached her nipple, Sparr pulled back. With his free hand, he cupped and lifted her breast, then began to circle his tongue just outside the areola. He slowly tightened the circle.

“Yes, do that,” Calista sighed.

Sparr was happy to oblige, teasingly swirling his tongue, pressing it flat to cover the nipple and create a slick area around it. He didn’t nibble or suck, just kept his warm, strong tongue against her sensitive flesh. After perhaps half of a minute, he switched sides. Calista was whispering, seemingly to herself, just too softly for Sparr to make out the words. He didn’t need to. Having her nipples caressed seemed to send her into a trance.

“You’re so sexy,” Sparr said, as the blonde gyrated subtly beneath him.

“What you’re doing to my breasts…” she said, her voice still soft.

“I’m going to do the exact same thing to your pussy.”

“Mmm, please, but not yet.” Calista didn’t open her eyes.

It wasn’t clear who was more aroused. Calista whispered and ground against the towel blissfully, while Sparr’s cock was full to bursting. Nonetheless, he happily continued to tongue her, astounded by the strength of her reaction. Calista seemed to melt beneath him, her mouth open and her eyes closed. The blonde ran her fingers lightly through his hair as she wriggled against the towel, and the sand beneath it, the motion unmistakable. Her hips were getting the message that Sparr’s tongue was sending. Finally, with an almost imperceptible motion, she began to urge him down.

“Yeah,” Sparr said, beginning his journey down Calista’s tight body. He kissed lower on her breast, past her ribs, and across her trembling abs. His hands got to the target first, locating the sides of her bikini bottoms, hooking into them, and tugging. Before Sparr’s exploring mouth reached Calista’s slit, he had her completely naked. He kissed the inside of her thigh, slowly sliding his mouth toward her clit.

“Fuck,” Calista said, softly. She let her fingers fall from his hair as she lay back to enjoy another wave of attention.

She wouldn’t be disappointed. Sparr slid his tongue firmly across her slit, wiggled it between her lips, then licked up.

“Mmm,” Calista moaned.

Much as he had with her nipples, Sparr took his tongue on a journey farther reaching than just Calista’s nub. He tongued her low, licked up each lip, circled her clit, then again wriggled his tongue into her center. She was wet as the surf-soaked beach just meters away.

Meanwhile, Sparr was increasingly uncomfortable. There was plenty of room in his board shorts for a soft cock, but the erection he currently wielded was constrained, fighting against the waistband for escape. “Fuck!” he cursed, before pulling back from Calista’s pussy. He quickly loosened the tie and tugged his shorts free.

Calista saw. The blonde sat half-up, trying for a better look at his cock. Sparr pushed her back.

“Soon,” he said, before bending again to his work. He dedicated himself to her pleasure. With one hand on each thigh, Sparr urged Calista to open herself to him. He worked his tongue as far into her slit as possible, then withdrew, licking up. With care, he formed a small O with his lips and closed them around her clit. Sparr applied suction, drawing her most delicate flesh just past his lips, held on for a moment, then eased.

“Oh, Alain,” Calista sighed. She threw one arm back, the other across her body to tug on a breast.

Sparr sucked, licked, and teased Calista’s slick pussy. By now the blonde’s gyrating hips had created a depression in the sand, just the other side of the towel. Her breath had taken on a rough edge. She was ready for the next step. He wriggled a finger to find her center, then began to work it in. Calista raised her hips in encouragement.

“Two,” she said, hoarsely. “I saw that thing. Get me ready for it.”

Saying nothing, Sparr pulled his finger free and popped it into his mouth. “You’re sweet,” he said, tasting her before wetting another finger. He began to wriggle them, side by side, into her slit.

“Oooh, your fingers are thick, too.”

The towel wasn’t quite large enough to accommodate them. The arm which Calista had thrown behind her rested mostly on the sand, alongside a tangle of damp, blonde hair. At the other end, Sparr’s knees had escaped the towel entirely, digging their own grooves into the sand as he worked his fingers into Calista’s depths.

“Fuck, you’re wet.” Sparr curled his fingers up, seeking Calista’s g-spot.

“Yeah, yeah that’s it,” Calista panted. “Right there.”

Now came tongue and finger working both sides of her most sensitive zone. Sparr was more focused now, circling and flicking her clit, while pressing his fingers from the inside. Calista responded just as he hoped she would, raising her hips to encourage him while releasing a long, low moan. Sparr began to pump his fingers.

“That’s nice. That’s… really fucking nice, oh.” She pushed and ground against him.

“Let it happen,” Sparr said, pulling back just long enough to encourage her.

“No, I…” Calista said. She was trembling.

“Why not?” Sparr knew she must be close.

“I’ll… lose it, lose my mojo,” she said, suddenly nudging Sparr back. Calista’s breath was ragged, her blue eyes fixed on him. “I want to cum with dick in me.”

Sparr was ready, too. He half raised himself, brushing the sand from his knees while his cock slashed the air hopefully. Behind him, the ever-closer surf reacquainted itself with land it had pulled back from hours earlier. Before him, Calista grabbed her knees to hold her legs open.

“Slowly,” she said, a trace of worry coloring her expression.

It wasn’t the first time Sparr had been urged toward caution. Once the two were close enough, he pressed the underside of his cock against her slit and began to move it against her. Calista’s lips spread to welcome him, her slickness was irresistible. He nudged the tip forward.

“Stop! Stop stop,” Calista cried out. “I said go slow.”

“Okay, okay,” Sparr said, easing up. How long had it been since Calista had been fucked? he wondered. After several heartbeats he tried again, this time doing little more than pressing against her slit.

Calista watched, her eyes wide. “You’re so fucking hard,” she said.

“Hard in a good way, right?” He pushed as gently as possible.

“Fuck!” Calista repeated. “Just…” she trailed off, but reached a hand forward, ready to push back.

By pressing, pushing the tip in, then withdrawing, Sparr made progress, but it was excruciatingly slow. He had to watch Calista’s face intently, looking for any sign of discomfort, any wince that forecasted she might twist away.

“You’re nice and snug, Cali. Feels really good.” It was the first time he had used her obvious nickname.

The blonde watched with almost morbid curiosity as Sparr took her, the fat head of his cock easing past her lips. “Just go slow like that,” she said.

“Mmm-hmm,” Sparr said. Calista was slick for him, her pussy practically begging to be impaled. Sparr had to fight back the urge to do so, instead proceeding cautiously. He worked in another inch, then pulled out entirely, his cock coated in a sheen of lust. He resumed, as gradually, Calista’s body yielded to him.

“Yes,” she said. “Mmm.”

Sparr shifted slightly closer. Calista was enjoying herself again, no longer wincing or knitting her brow, but still watching intently. He pushed, withdrew, then pushed again, his cock bathed in Calista’s snug, wet, warmth. His balls brushed her ass.

“Yeah, fuck,” Calista groaned. At last her eyes flicked up. “God, you’re big.”

“You’re just tight,” he replied. “It’s incredible.” He moved freely within her now, soaking every inch of his cock in her slippery depths. Sparr pulled out, admiring his swollen organ popping with veins. Then, not wanting to lose momentum, he slid within her once more.

“Mmm,” Calista moaned. The arm she had lifted earlier to caution him she now let fall back. As Sparr established a rhythm she resumed tugging at a breast. “Fuuuck.”

The blonde seemed particularly responsive to a mix of strokes. Sparr teased her, pushing the head of his cock just far enough to open the blonde’s kitty. After three or four shallow strokes he buried himself, earning an ecstatic groan. He fell into a rhythm, the evening breeze tickling his bare skin, the scent of the sea reaching him sweetly.

“This is so good right now,” Sparr groaned.

“Yes,” Calista said. She lay passively, parting her toned legs for him, giving Sparr access to her depths while fondling and tugging at a breast. “Yes, deep like that.”

The sand refused to cooperate. Sparr’s knees dug furrows into the soft grains just the other side of the towel, gradually separating the two, and requiring him to shift his position more often than he cared to.

“Here,” he said. Without pulling free, Sparr carefully guided Calista to lie on her side, facing away from him. By curling her knees slightly inward, the blonde’s dripping pussy was easily accessible from behind. Sparr drove in once more, his hand locked onto her hip.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “Like that. Just like that.”

Sparr needed no encouragement. Calista’s body, lit by starlight, was draped before him like a landscape of taut muscle, soft curves, and trembling flesh. Her hair was tossed wildly around her neck, back, and the sand beyond. As he took her, Sparr soaked up the details of the scene: Calista’s lips parted, her breath ragged, a constellation of sand grains sprinkled across her skin. The blonde’s breasts jiggled enticingly. Close behind them, the advancing surf added its rhythmic soundtrack to their session.

“Mmmm Alain, don’t stop.” Calista’s fingers first sought, then found, her clit. “Fuck me deep like that.”

“You said you wanted to cum with dick in you,” Sparr groaned. “Let it happen.”

The blonde didn’t respond, didn’t need to. Like him, she was wrapped in bliss and nearing release. Sparr let his pace build, recklessly plunging, his cock about to burst. He kept both hands clamped on her raised hip. She wouldn’t slip away, not before each of them claimed the other.

“Cum with me Cali,” he gasped. “I’m so close.”

“Yes,” Calista panted back. “I’m… I’m going to…”

Something cold tickled Sparr’s feet. The encroaching surf, at last, had caught them, one wave outracing its brethren to soak the towel and swirl the sand beneath his toes. More would follow, but they were just too late to break the erotic spell the pair was consumed by.

“Yes, yes.” Calista’s fingers clutched at the sand, fingered her clit. “I’m… oooh!” She was cumming, her toned body trembling against the sand.

Sparr joined her, his own orgasm a merciless tsunami. “Ohhh, fahhhh!” He blasted hot seed into Calista’s welcoming pussy.

The blonde shuddered in his grip, her pussy clenching and releasing. At the peak of her orgasm, Calista curled inward, locked in the grip of ecstasy, her features tight.

“Hunhhh,” Sparr continued, as another shot of cum pulsed into Calista’s slick depths. Like her, he shuddered, barely in control. His hips bucked eagerly.

“Fuh, huhh,” Calista gasped as the last of the spasm slipped away. She sagged back against the towel, depleted.

Sparr, too, emerged from the orgasmic spasm, his grip on Calista easing. As the two caught their breath another wave found them, twisting the towel and chilling Sparr’s feet and knees. It sloshed against Calista’s back.

Calista laughed, turning to him. Her eyes sparkled, the warm glow of contentment softening her features. “Can’t a girl just savor a good fuck? These waves…”

There was nothing to do for it. Sparr reluctantly tugged his cock free, chased by a string of cum which fell against Calista’s thigh, and into the foamy water. As Calista laughed, Sparr scurried to rescue their swimsuits from the waves, his still swollen shaft slashing the air.

Later, the two sat waiting for the autonomous shuttle, Calista nestled in Sparr’s arms. Just as Tracee had predicted, Calista’s competitive nature had brought the two together. Less predictably, the blonde had lowered her guard, had let Sparr close.

He wondered how long it would last.

***

“Alain, can you break a five?”

It took Sparr a moment to understand the question. He was standing in what he hoped was an attentive posture at the confiscated stall, presiding over the pipes and other scraps of metal that Thani had kept on display. Making an appearance at least once a day would help prevent someone else from moving in and blocking his access to the fabrication building.

“I’m sorry, what?” The butcher whose shop he sometimes watched had asked the question. The man was holding up one of the less common tokens, one with a warmer, bronze tint.

“Do you have five single tokens?” he asked. “I need to make change for this lady.” The butcher jabbed his thumb back toward his own stall where a client waited.

“Oh, sure,” Sparr said. He fished into his pouch and traded the man five of the more common silver tokens for the bronze one. The butcher thanked him, quietly slipping Bogg a scrap of meat before returning to his stall.

Sparr pocketed the coin. He could run it through the fabricator later, on the slight chance that it represented a part for the air car he hoped to build. The spacefarer still had no idea how he would acquire the thousands of tokens it would take to have a chance at building the air car. One more token was a miserable start.

He thought about it more. Obtaining the new token hadn’t cost him anything. He had simply traded tokens of equal value. In fact, had the trade gone in the opposite direction, he would have obtained five tokens for one, five new part designs in return for one he had already read into the fabricator. Slowly it dawned on Sparr, he didn’t need to earn thousands of tokens, he merely had to hold those tokens long enough to feed them into the fabricator. He didn’t even need to keep the tokens that were useful; the fabricator stored the designs in its memory. But how could he get his hands on so many tokens, even if only for an hour? A plan emerged.

He would become a money launderer.

***

“Well, do my eyes deceive me, or is it the hero of Horn Island?”

“I won’t deny it,” Sparr grinned. “Heroic measures were required.”

It hadn’t been difficult to track down Ost’s warehouse. The cavernous building situated near the docks was unremarkable in appearance, but the surrounding alleys were redolent with the spicy-sweet scent of tree sap. When Sparr cautiously edged into the warehouse he was greeted not just by the almost intoxicating scent, but also by the sight of thick trunks stacked and ready to be sawed.

Ost, wearing a riotously colorful vest, swept forward to embrace him. “This calls for wine!”

The timber merchant led Sparr to a cluttered office just off the warehouse floor. Scores of wood carvings, some crude and some masterful, lined the shelves. Two skillfully drawn portraits, one of Aine and one of Sylva, decorated a cramped desk. Ost retrieved a jug of wine and two glasses.

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