Archive-name: JourEntr/j293-165.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: Sarge
Journal Entry 165 / 0293
Sunlight streamed through my closed eyelids as I returned slowly to
wakefulness. I turned over slowly onto my back and stretched, feeling
the well-worn linen sheets shifting against my legs as I did so.
A sound caught my attention, making me open my eyes for the first
time today; Felinzi purring off to my right. Perry; I eased back and
closed my eyes again, smiling and remembering our encounter last night.
I sat up in the sunlit bedroom, carefully easing my legs over the side
of the bed and standing up, making my way out the door and down the
hallway to the kitchen.
The smell of cooking breakfast steak apparently caught her feral
nose. The sight of her walking down the hallway, licking at her muzzle
and desperately trying to get her night-ruffled fur under control made
me giggle.
"Good morning, Perry," I said cheerfully, dropping my pan aside to
give her a hug. "Sleep good?"
Perry finally looked up at me, her greenish eyes clearing rapidly.
"Very," she said. "It's been a long time since I slept next to anyone.
It felt wonderful."
"I'm glad," I said, kissing the side of her nose softly. "It's
been a long time for me, too."
"Are you cooking breakfast for me?"
"Of course! One thing I learned from my parents. A good host
always cooks breakfast. That's even more important than cooking
dinner." I slid the pan of eggs off the burner and turned the heat
down. She watched attentively as I dropped them onto a plate and then
retrieved her steak from the oven. As I added it to her plate, she
suddenly turned me around and hugged me tightly, pushing me towards the
breakfast table. "Perea!"
"Hmmm?"
"Your breakfast will get cold," I said, protesting not too
strenuously.
She growled softly, lustfully as she guided me down onto the
tabletop, holding me with one hand to the small of back until I was
lying flat. "What I want for breakfast will never get cold."
I laughed as she nudged her way between my legs, sitting down at
the table and running her slightly unsheathed claws through the fur of
my legs. "If this is breakfast," I murmured to the ceiling, "Maybe we
should have it in bed."
"We could have had it in bed, but you abandoned me, Private."
"Last night you said you were tire-- Oh, Perea..." She pressed her
hot muzzle up to my mound, her tongue flicking out and invading my
privacy. So fitting for a soldier, the insurgency with which she
approach my clitoris. "Gods, Perry, slow down!
The soft purring noise she seemed to make even more consistently
than Ember ever had migrated up from her chest to her throat, emerging
as a soft and constant growling sound. "That's it," I sighed, running
my mitts over her head and playing with her ears, "that's perfect." I
could feel the moisture of her tongue mixing with my own, the feel of
her cool nose pressing against the hood of my clit as she tongued my
hole, tasting the juices that I could feel between my legs, or so I
imagined.
She retreated even further, finally just barely kissing my cunt,
her licks softly raining down over my exposed and needful clitoris
without pause of pressure. "Perry," I whimpered.
She chuckled then, a soft and feminine sound, almost out of keeping
with her body and profession. She started to lick me harder, faster,
and the little shocks of pleasure from every flicker of her
roughly-textured and gently-driven tongue pooled in my belly like fire
coming to life. "Oh, Perry," I gasped softly, "How do you do this to
me?"
She didn't answer, but instead reached up and, with claws again
slightly unsheathed, scratched her way down my sides, driving me mad
with lust. "Gods, Perry, let me come already!"
"I'm not stopping you," she said innocently, her parted muzzle
kneading my vuvla and her tongue parting my labia to lick at my core, my
entrance, my clit. I moaned as she licked more directly, slashing at my
clitoris. My body tensed as my mind floated away at her insistent
kisses and licks. "P...Perry!" I gasped, coming against her face,
feeling her bury her muzzle against between my blood-thickened lips and
her tongue racing achingly against my clitoris.
We lay there, my mitts grasping her ears, her muzzle deep between
my thighs, locked together like some unmoving tableaux. Finally she
leaned back and let me sit up. I looked down at her, her muzzle wet
with our fluids, and laughed. She looked up at me with that sparkle in
her eye that only now she allowed me to see. I slid off the table into
her lap and held her, thanking her.
"You're welcome," she replied to my whispered blessings. She
laughed and leaned back in her chair, looking up at me. "I love you,"
she said with both awkwardness and sadness.
"Are you sure that's something you want to say right now?"
Perry looked away. "I need someone to say it to."
"And I'm it?" I asked, pulling away slightly. "That's what all
this is about?"
She shook her head. "That's not what it's all about, but that's a
good part of it. Rainy, do you know what a 'biological clock' is?"
"I hope so. My dad's a geneticist and mom's a doctor," I said.
"It's either the rhythmic cycle of hormonal release in an adult body, or
the triggering of some biological process by a progressively
regenerative or degenerative condition."
"I mean, do you think someone could have a biological clock set for
when they want to have children?"
"Oh, that. I don't know. Some fems say they have them, times when
they have to have kids. My friend Rachel says she's unhappy if she's
not pregnant at least once every decade. Mom, on the other hand,
thought she had gotten her maternity days out of the way two centuries
ago. I'm glad she changed her mind."
"I am too," Perry said. "Do you ever feel it yourself?"
"What, me want to have kids?" I smiled. "Nah, not yet."
"I do," Perry admitted. "I'm not suggesting anything. I just want
you to know why I feel so... open, suddenly. Especially with you."
"Are you looking for a partner to have them with? I mean, I can't
right now, you know that... I'm going to go into PAS training in a
couple of weeks."
She nodded. "I know it sounds stupid, but yeah, I am. You're just
the person I've been most attracted to in the past couple of years. I'm
willing to wait a while, but I've decided I want to start looking now.
I really want to have children."
"Why don't you just find someone and have them yourself?"
"Rainy, look at me! I don't even menstruate anymore. My body is so
neutered because of what I do, what I love, that I can't have children."
"We can change that," I said, looking her over. She was right.
And I knew that part of the reason for her lack of menstruation was that
her lack of bodyfat prevented her from harboring the cyclic hormones
that triggered the start of her period. Like I said; Mom was a doctor.
"But I don't want to."
"If you want your own children, you're going to have to," I said
softly. "If you want to be a soldier for the rest of your life, for the
centuries you've got ahead of you, that's fine. But if you want
children, Perry, you're going to have to shut down some of your habits.
You're going to have to let some spread take over your life."
She smiled. "Sounds terrible."
"It should frighten you," I said, leaning back into her and holding
her close. "Nobody ever changes easily. Nothing ever comes without a
price."
She chuckled. "I know."
We were quiet for a few seconds. "My breakfast is probably frozen
by now."
"That's what microwaves are for."
"Ugh," she said softly. "Microwaved eggs."
"Aw, they're sunny-side down on biscuits. You won't even notice."
She laughed. "Okay, I'll take your word for it."
--
"Waking With The Rain"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1992 Elf Matheiu Sternberg. May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.
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