Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One (22 page)

The climax tapered
and
Emma slowed
at
last
,
tongue
poised moistly over her partner’s exhausted
pubis
as the
leg
slid to a
halt.

Ione relaxed by degrees,
settling back onto the rumpled, round plain of their giant bed.
Soon she lay quietly slumbering.
Emma
carefully disengaged from her as the merry sounds of the Lap
resolved to notice once more.

After a little she rose and
padded out the arched portal at the back of their spacious
apartment to
the
hot
pool, roiling
boisterously at the moment to humidify
the whole region with a fragrant mist. The pool had
moods,
they had come to observe—it
was
sometimes
completely
silent,
always at least
lukewarm, and it grew
hot and frothy on a recurring basis, unlike any
other
water
of
the subterranean world
. Large enough to
accommodate
several sex of women at
once
, it had become their most social
zone.

Beyond the perimeter of fine grass circling
the doyenne’s island, colorful bedboats plied the winding avenues
of the Lap reservoir, drifting on tranquil currents that endlessly
circulated out to lower-lying waters beyond. Many women used
bedboats recreationally, nestled under fragrant sheets and blankets
with their lovers as they randomly traveled the various territories
of the aquifer, all the necessary conveniences near at hand in the
headboard cabinets. Some of the vessels had cuffs installed along
the perimeter, and submissive slippers were occasionally sent
around the neighborhoods, locked down and available to anyone who
desired their widespread bodies for discipline or experimentation.
When you wanted a mobile party you could overload one of the big
six-sleepers to a trix or quax of women—a dox on board and a six or
dox more clinging to the sides. And then there was Mark’s victory
flotilla, which wound about the cheering Lap avenues bearing the
exultant winner of the games they waged for his company…

The women of their society were now
comfortably installed in lavishly decorated cavern apartments
lining the mazed waterways; single slippers in convivial boudoirs,
established couples in domestic spaces that reflected a shared
identity, groups of lovers in various experimental arrangements,
and relentlessly noisy dorms occupied by a dox of women or more. A
quix of slippers Emma liked to party with had a crazy setup in a
half-submerged grotto lit by a purple-eyed gnome. And there were
over five sex of rowdy personalities—almost a full sen of
women—crammed into one long cave at the periphery of their
civilization; a mini-society with its own culture and customs. All
in all the Lap had about four sen of residents, give or take. Emma
already had many pleasant memories from her time with them, knew
the cheerful neighborhoods and waterways of their carefully
sequestered home quite intimately.

“
Hey!” said Manassa,
f
loating
easily on her back
in the
hot pool, breasts
lolling
about, island
ed
nipples
playfully
pointing up. Emma strode in to follow the huge
woman about,
staring between her legs as
decorum permitted
to enjoy the sight of her
fleshy, hairless vulva.

Manassa splashed her
flirtatiously and she grinned at this subtle invitation,
wading
into the embrace of
her giant thighs
.
The larger woman reached
sportively
for her, but Emma couldn’t
sustain her bulk and was dunked, aborting what might have been an
exquisite
interaction
with her femininity.
As usual,
s
he couldn’t tell whether she was
being
calculatedly stymied
or balked by chance alone
.

“
Can I put
some buoys
on you?”
she
innocuously
suggested, wringing her blond tresses. Manassa
grinned
.

From
a
bobbling
chest filled with various aquatic toys
Emma procured
a set of
nipple clamps attached to little round
floats
. Manassa allowed
her to position one on each giant
tit
,
smirking
at
the overelaboration of the
procedure,
then
shook the bounty of her chest away.

The little floats playfully
conditioned her to display her breasts as she splashed about the
hot pool,
tugging an integrated tooth to
bite
her nipples
when they dropped below the waterline. Manassa laughed in
gleeful agony as the toys mischievously worked her darkening tips,
rising more and more frequently to exhibit a voluptuously jumping
bust. Emma
followed
her around, masturbating
under cover
of the water, yearning to connect with the gorgeous, playful
doyenne
before Ione woke.

“
So… can I ask you
something?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder to verify her
partner’s continued absence. Manassa raised a brow
receptively.

“
Do you… do you ever…” Emma
flushed, unable to continue even though she was certain Manassa
would think little of the question.

“
Of
course
I do,” the other woman
declared, dunking her tits to engage the buoys again. “Do I what?”
she belatedly inquired, wincing from their bite as they wandered
about the pool.

Emma thought of Ione, still asleep in their
apartment. Her lover maintained a calculated interest in Manassa,
frequently asked about her intimate life. Emma found these lustless
inquiries annoying in contrast to her own, wholeheartedly
libidinous feelings for the exotic woman. She decided to approach
the question indirectly.

“
Did you ever figure out
about orgasm? For yourself?”

Manassa grinned. “I think so.”

Emma tendered a doubtful expression. “It’s
usually pretty obvious when it happens. You would know.”

Manassa seemed disappointed,
mulled this assertion for a brief interval as the buoys nagged her
breasts, then rose to inspect her extravagantly swollen berries.
“Well how do
you
know?” she distractedly questioned.

Emma was subtly flummoxed.
“I just do. I can
feel
the distinction for one thing. A climax is much stronger than
the pleasure that gets you there. And Ione could verify that I have
them.”

“
How?”

“
Well, because she knows
me…” Emma halted, uncertain of her reasoning.

“
Is it important to be able
to convince someone else?” Manassa asked.

Emma chuckled, but fell silent as she thought
about it. “Yes. Actually it is.”

“
Hmmm…”

They were
soon
joined by Mark,
trailed by a half-dox of slippers who presently had claim on his
time.

“
Hey,” Emma
smiled.

“
Hi Emz,” he perfunctorily
returned, then faced the slippers with a showman’s lively but
automatic charm. “Alright, it’s vagina time! Circle up!”

Plunking themselves down in
the vivaciously bubbling hot pool, the women formed a ring about
the Lap’s only male citizen. Mark guided himself between the
legs of the next woman
on
the lottery, a petite redhead with hard little breasts and a
tireless snatch
. His
handsome
profile was quickly
positioned between her thighs
.

He
addressed her lust-
fattened
labia with
a
personable
but unlingering
cunnilingus
,
an
expert kissing and licking that was likely the most potent
exaltation of feminine sexuality she would ever know despite its
resolute delivery. Emma watched them in glazed frustration, cursing
Ione’s egalitarian protocol. She had experienced Mark’s oral
gratification for herself on just a handful of occasions since they
had come to the Lap, a joy that far surpassed what Ione—or any
other woman she had gotten it from—could deliver.

Mark quickened his
affection, leading the slipper up to frequencies of pleasure that
summoned a snooch-tingling bliss. At just the right moment he rose
and lifted the woman onto his erection, bouncing her muscularly.
She
kicked in helpless
jubilation, enraptured by this manly, whole-body
jactitation.

“
So what happened with
Carina and them?” Emma inquired, seeing that his lips were free for
discourse again.

“
Oh. They set up over by
that narrow beach where you can barely see. You know the
place?”

“
Yeah. Past the
sandbars.”

“
She had a new game going,
and I played for a while. Kind of a variant on “trick the dick”. It
was fun, but that crowd has a real jealousy problem, and after a
while I got to wondering if it might spread from their
group.”

“
Ione’s been worried about
that,” Emma mused, watching as Manassa lofted her giant breasts
above the waterline. A circle of women admired the clamps playfully
dangling from them. “What’s that stuff you two have been going on
about? Structural… difference?”

“
Dissonance. Yeah. Has to do
with the cooperative-competitive interleave of the Lap society,”
Mark explained, brawny arms rhythmically exercising the slipper on
his prick. Emma could tell the woman didn’t understand anything
they were talking about, was just happy to have the handsome man’s
attention. “We all adhere to a master social policy, right? But
within that cooperative scheme there’s a bunch of cliques competing
for influence, and within
their
spheres of cooperation you have games between
competitive teams composed of cooperating players…”

“
So?”

“
Well, there’s this funky
meta-interaction between the two phenomena that’s never been
conscientiously reconciled. Taken to the limit, cooperation and
competition are just rational disguises for love and hate after
all,” Mark reflected, carefully gauging the redhead’s excitation.
He gave her a little more penis on the downstroke and she groaned
in appreciation. “You constantly see the slippers scale from
reasonable to extreme expressions of both, often without warning.
They’re fundamentally dissonant forms of interaction, and their
working interface has more than a casual role in how things get
along around here.”

“
What do you mean? In
practical terms?”

“
Well, there are new couples
emerging all the time, generating cooperative energy—love—that
needs to be protected from
inside
each relationship. But the games they play with
other couples beget destabilizing interactions
between
one couple and another,
damaging the very boundaries that define them.”

“
Huh.” Emma chewed her lip
for a moment, measuring the notion against things she had
personally observed. “What fraction of Lap women are involved in
committed relationships?”

“
One in four, maybe,”
Manassa opined, wading over to them.

“
Is that good?” Emma
wondered. “Does it offer long-term stability?”

“
Hard to say,” Mark grunted,
distractedly bouncing the redhead as he pondered the situation. “My
impression is that almost everyone
wants
to be in love. But people also
want to partake of whatever social-sexual thrills are available.
Our society has many such for individuals, but none that are
designed to protect couples.”

Emma could see his point. “You and Ione were
talking about setting up some kind of organizational experiment,”
she remembered. “Could we find a way to improve things using a
different social scheme?”

“
Maybe… Your lover has
countless theories about that stuff, and all things sociological
for that matter. But my feeling is we would have to invent
something really simple. Totally intuitive. There’s no way to
express complicated ideas to the women. Not yet,
anyway.”

“
It’s getting better
though,” Manassa remarked. “I can understand most of them a little
bit at least.”

Emma nodded thoughtfully.
“Me, too. And that might become a problem itself, given the things
I’ve recently overheard. What will the Lap be like when
everyone
can eloquently
express their feelings?”

“
A lot more emotional and
contentious,” Mark speculated. “We should definitely accelerate our
conjecture and deliver an alternative social formula before that
happens. This is a closed environment—there will be serious trouble
if the women stop getting along.”