Companion

Hi guys,

Two new chapters :D Thank you to Lola for reviewing :D Yes I feel sorry for her too. Hopefully things will improve, I won't give anything away though ;)

Quasar wakes to feeling of Joban slipping away from her body. She watches him move off the sleeping pod and collect his clothes. Last night, she had taken him in her mouth while the Commander plowed her sex. After climax, they drank more wine. The Commander splashed some on Quasar and the two licked her clean.

Quasar remembers the feeling of their rough tongues, as though they left an imprint. Over her breasts, her stomach, her sex. Then they had taken her again, this time their positions reversed. Afterwards they slept, Quasar wedged between them, her groin aching as it did now.

She has never felt so sore. But then, she has never pleasured two males at once before. Not until last night.

Joban now dressed, turns back to the bed. He notices her watching him. He moves back over to the pod.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, and touches her head gently.

Quasar shuts her eyes obediently but does not sleep. She listens to the soft pad of his feet and the hiss of the door. She dares to open her eyes and Joban is gone.

The Commander wakes some time later. He groans as he sits up, rubbing his temple.

“Where’s Joban?”

“Joban go,” Quasar says.

“Yes I can see that,” the Commander sighs, “Just typical of him to sneak away like this.”

He leaves the bed and staggers over to his command chair.

“Ur?” he says after pressing a button, “Have you seen Joban? What, already? No I didn’t give the order but you know what Joban’s like. He takes his job very seriously… Has Jye reported any progress with the prisoner?”

As he listens to whatever Ur is saying, Quasar forces herself to sit up. She inspects her sex, an angry pink, and winces. She lays back down, just as the Commander finishes his call and returns.

“Joban’s already left the ship,” he sighs, “Don’t worry, we didn’t disappoint him. That’s just the way he is.”

He sits on the edge of the pod and strokes Quasar’s cheek.

“Did you have fun pet?”

Quasar isn’t quite sure what fun means. But from the Commander’s expectant look she assumes it is a good thing and he wants her to say yes.

“Yes Sir.”

The Commander smiles,

“I’m glad. Though don’t expect that to happen a lot. Joban is just a very dear friend. If it was anyone else I wouldn’t consider sharing.”

His hand slips possessively between her legs and Quasar gives a small cry of discomfort. The Commander halts,

“You’re sore,” he says, “I suppose that’s understandable.”

He moves his hand away and Quasar worries he is upset.

“Come,” he says, motioning her away from the bed.

Quasar follows obediently but every step makes her heart beat faster.

But no punishment comes. He activates the shower pod and joins her inside. He washes her sex gently. Treating it with more care than he ever has before. Quasar feels compelled to reciprocate but he bats her hands away.

“It’s hard enough not to take you as it is."

He’s already half-hard from touching her. Quasar doesn’t think it wise to leave him in such a state. She lowers herself on her knees and applies her mouth. Her jaw is swollen from last night but it easier to fight through that discomfort. She makes use of her tongue, licking all over instead of taking him in fully. He doesn’t seem to mind the change in technique. Every so often she attempts to swallow as much as she can without her jaw seizing.

His seed spurts on her face. Quasar relaxes as the water washes it away. Once he’s recovered, the Commander hauls her to her feet. Pain bunches in her knees from contact with the hard floor. But then the Commander leans in unexpectedly, and she starts as his mouth presses against hers.

The gesture is brief, and when he pulls back, her expression seems to amuse him.

“Your kind call it a kiss,” he pauses a moment before adding, “Or at least they did.”

Quasar’s lips tingle as hot air blasts them dry. Kiss, she repeats in her mind. Kiss.

The familiar scent of roses fills the air. Quasar follows the Commander out of the cubicle. She expects to remain naked but the Commander drapes her robe around her. His hand runs over her head. Tiny bristles have started to sprout.

“Your hair is growing back. I’ll have Faquar see to that later.”

Faquar obliges, later on, once the Commander has left for a meeting. Quasar sits cross-legged as he shaves her head, repeating a set of phrases.

“Good morning Sir. Good day. Good evening. I trust you are well. Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.”

She pauses a moment.

“Faquar knows Commander’s family?”

“I know of them, yes.”

“Faquar tells to Quasar names?”

“Faquar tell me their names,” he corrects, “Why do you wish to know anyway?”

Quasar shrugs,

“Commander shows to Quasar picture.”

“He showed you a picture. So you’re curious?”

Quasar nods.

“I suppose I could,” Faquar says, “But don’t tell the Commander. He probably wouldn’t want you knowing his business.”

“Why?”

“Why?” the Polygoylian snorts, “Because you’re his pleasure slave.”

“What difference that makes?”

Faquar doesn’t bother correcting her this time,

“Most men don’t like to be reminded they’re having an affair,” he says, “It makes them uncomfortable.”

“Affair?”

“What the Commander is having with you,” Faquar explains, “Having sexual relations outside his marriage.”

“Affair is bad?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s bad. Socially it’s accepted, especially amongst the soldier class. But morally, it’s questionable.”

“Morally?” Quasar sounds out the foreign word.

“The difference between right and wrong. Anyway we’re getting off track. Just don’t tell the Commander I told you anything.”

Quasar nods though she’s still confused. She listens as Faquar names the Commander’s family. His two wives are called Habi and Hanan. Both were arranged marriages. This is Chimeran tradition, especially amongst the nobility the Commander belongs to.

The Commander has five children in total. Tyris, Liral and Lura. Ha’ra and Tanis by Hanan.

Faquar finishes shaving her head. At his order, she rises and disrobes so he can attend to any other hair.

“Faquar knows Captain Joban?” she asks.

“I’m acquainted with Captain Joban, yes.”

“Joban have family?”

“From what I’ve heard no.”

“Why?”

“He’s from a poor family for one thing. Not a prospective match, though he managed to do quite well for himself as a soldier. But then, many soldiers choose not to marry later in life. Why are you so curious about him?”

“Commander’s friend,” Quasar says simply, “Why he leave ship?”

“He commands a scout ship. He was simply resuming his post.”

“He come back?”

“Eventually,” Faquar says, “Provided nothing unexpected happens, his ship will return to re-fuel.”

Quasar processes this information silently. She feels the ghost of Joban’s hand on her head and thinks she would like to see him again.

“Resume your phrases,” Faquar trills.

Quasar obliges with a sigh.