A PIECE OF A LONGER STORY THAT GOT CUT UP AND REARRANGED

1563 4D

Cortevail took him upstairs to a small sleeping-room, unwrapped a large gun she pulled from a low cabinet, and turned to face him. She stood very tall, looking down at him. The muzzle of the gun gleamed with moisture. “Get ‘em out here,” she said to Jeddin. He complied.

She inspected the skin of his scrotal sac until she found an area free from larger vessels. As she handled him, desire made him swell. Cortevail only smiled. Pressing the muzzle against Jeddin‘s scrotum, she waited a few seconds; the area grew numb. She pulled the trigger and held it for a few heartbeats, then released it and withdrew the gun. A red spot grew, covering a lump the size of his little fingertip.

“Good,” Cortevail said, putting the gun back in the cabinet, “That’ll hold for the next twenty days, but get to them as soon as you get in.” Then she came back to face Jeddin, standing close. “Has it been long?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said, “A long time.” She caressed him, and he responded; sensation had returned in full. They didn’t bother with the bed; the tall Cortevail took Jeddin in as they stood together. For a long time motionless, they let the heat build between them; and then they flew between their bodies and innerspace, pushing Jeddin‘s ecstasy higher. As he rode with her over the peak and down, she gripped him like iron chains. He opened his eyes. She gazed back at him, eyelids heavy with pleasure, irises yellow gold and thin-streaked with aquamarine. They clasped each other tightly for several long minutes, then disengaged very slowly.

Jeddin asked Cortevail, “You said earlier that the other andros would never listen. But you’re like me and Grendel. Do you think we’re not andros?” He caressed her warm sides, touched her white belly with a fingertip. Her fingers explored the well-articulated bulges and hollows of his shoulder muscles.

“Why do you ask? Do you think we’re human?” She smiled, still holding him around the middle, and played with a curl on his forehead. “Long lives, and old bodies ahead?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes my life all feels like a piece of a longer story that got cut up and rearranged.” Jeddin imaged a young man with a book and a cigar. When had he seen that?

She cradled his head in both of her hands. “So? We’re always cutting up and rearranging our memories anyway. What comes to us now is the most important. You came to me, and I came to you.”

Her fingers were warm at his temples. She was partly right. “But why plan, why fight, then?”

“To get more of this.” She eased her body against his, enveloped him in her heat. “I wish there were more time right now, but there isn’t.”

She disengaged and started to dress. “Weredin‘s good at loving, but you’ll need to be careful. I’ve done him before, but he’s not with us. When you get back here and you go to be with him, keep your mouth shut.”

“I’ll remember all that,” Jeddin said, securing his clothing. “And who’s Rion?” Cortevail‘s mouth tensed and turned down briefly. Maybe her man.

“He’s Turion‘s brother. The car is his.” she said. A wistful look appeared on her face. “And I miss him.” Then she straightened and pursed her lips. “Now remember, there’ll be two thousand waiting for you here.”

“If I make it.”