Disclaimer: Space: Above and Beyond and its characters copyright Fox Television, characters not used by permission. Hopefully neither they, nor the incomparable Morgan and Wong will take exception. Thanks guys, for creating characters so memorable they have minds of their own.

M/F
M/F/M

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! This story is just full of SEX (some M/F/M as well as M/F)! EEK! Oh my! (*fan* *fan*) If you can't handle reading about people having sex, or you're under 18 and don't have parental permission, DON'T READ THIS!! If you're the prudish type and you read this disclaimer and then read the story anyway it's your own darn fault if you get squicked so don't come whining to me.

Anyone who wants to discuss the story in a calm, rational manner, is welcome to do so.

Cecelia Peyroux and Webster Davis are my own inventions and are copyright 1998. (Oh, and "Ceese" is pronounced as in 'cease-fire' not 'cee-cee'. If you like to "see" the characters in your head, think Alfre Woodard and Avery Brooks for Ceese and Web, respectively.)

Thanks to all my Beta-readers, Julia Kosatka, Tere Matthews, Sarah Stegall, Suzanne Vollmer and Mary Ann Verhovsek for all their invaluable comments.
--KMS matthewk@colorado.edu

PACING THE CAGE
by
Kellie Matthews-Simmons




Part One of Three

"McQueen? T.C. McQueen, is that you?"

The voice was a rich contralto with a slight southern-ish accent. McQueen stopped in his tracks. That voice. God, he knew that voice. Out of the past, another lifetime. He turned slowly, scanning faces in the crowd that eddied around him until his gaze found the face that went with the voice. He hadn't imagined it. It was her.

"Ceese Peyroux?" he exclaimed, stunned.

She was standing a few feet away, in a doorway, letting the traffic in the corridor pass by her. As they waited for the crowd to thin, he studied her. She definitely looked older, but had the same intense eyes he remembered. Despite her small stature she carried herself like an amazon queen, just as she always had. She was wearing a nondescript gray coverall that might have been anything from a flight-suit to a mechanic's uniform, but it bore no insignia of any kind. The color gave her mahogany skin ashy tones that made her look tired-- or perhaps she just was.

The corridor finally emptied out as most of the passengers moved on, and she stepped forward, her face lit with a radiant smile that transformed her from almost-ordinary to stunning. "Ty! It is you!" She stood with her hands on her hips and scanned him critically, her gaze sweeping down, back up, staying a moment on his hair. She lifted an eyebrow. "You're lookin' mighty fine, Ty! 'Cept, you can't be old enough to be that gray, boy, 'cause if you are, what does it say about me?"

He smiled. "Don't worry, Ceese, they tell me it's 'premature'."

She sighed in exaggerated relief. "Whew, glad to hear that." She surveyed him again, this time registering his uniform. She frowned. "You military?"

He nodded. "Fifteen years now."

Her frown deepened. "Why'd you want to go and do that?"

He knew her views, but didn't share them. "It's what I do best, Ceese."

She looked at him a moment longer, still scowling, then she sighed and shrugged. "Can't argue with that, I suppose. Y'have to do what's in your heart."

"And you? What are you doing here? This is the last place I'd have expected to find you."

She glanced around the Bacchus' garish corridors and looked a little sheepish. "I know, I know, me either. But a girl's gotta eat and the pay's good."

McQueen didn't ask which of her many trades she was plying aboard the Bacchus. From her outfit, it looked to be something technical. He became aware that the 58th was still standing behind him in the corridor, watching and listening avidly, and he turned to look at them.

"You all forget where you're going'?" he asked drily.

"No, Sir!" Vansen snapped instantly, and herded the others past him like a shepherdess in khaki. Hawkes was the only one with enough guts or stupidity to hang back. Vansen came back for him, sending an apologetic glance and small smile in McQueen's direction as she grabbed Hawkes' arm and hauled him away.

As they departed, Ceese stared after them, then turned back to him, eyebrows lifted. "Sir? They call you sir?"

He looked after the departing soldiers narrowly. "They damned well better."

"What are you?" she asked, looking at his rank insignia with the blank incomprehension of a civilian.

"Do you care?" he asked, amused.

She chuckled. "Well, no, but I thought you might want to brag."

He snorted. "Hardly. I ought to be higher by now."

There was understanding in her dark gaze. "I'm sorry, Ty. I hoped, when you said it was what you did best, that maybe you'd found a place where it didn't matter."

He shook his head. "Ceese, you know as well as I do that there is no place where it doesn't matter."

She sighed. "You'd think I would, wouldn't you? I guess I'm just an eternal optimist." She reached out and took his hand, clasping it between hers. "I'm glad to see you again. I always wondered what became of you."

"I wondered about you, and Web." He found himself looking around, half-expecting to see another familiar face. "Where's Web, is he here too?"

Her face shadowed, her gaze fell. "Web's gone, Ty. Not long after you were drafted, in fact. The Dragon got him."

He was surprised how much it hurt. Even after so many years, it had been easier to wonder than to know. "I'm sorry, Ceese. I didn't know."

She shook her head. "How could you have? It's all right. Sure, I still miss him sometimes, but it's been so long it's not bad any more. Look, let's not stand around in the corridor. You're here on leave, aren't you?" At his nod, she continued. "How long?"

"Forty-eight."

She sighed. "Well, better than nothing, right? Do you have plans? I have to get ready for work soon, but I've got a little time first, come have a drink with me?"

"I have nothing that can't be postponed, and I'd be honored to have a drink with you. Where would you like to go?"

She thought about it for a moment, then sighed. "My place okay? I have to work in a bar, I'd just as soon not spend my off-hours there too."

"Anyplace is fine with me. I'm not much into socializing."

She grinned. "Same old Ty, eh? Well, I can understand. There's not too many places we feel comfortable, are there? Come on, this way."

She led him through the maze-like corridors with the unerring directional sense that had made her a crew chief back on Omicron Draconis, 'The Dragon,' as they'd called it. Here, though, her stride was unhampered by the cramped tunnels, and her carriage was as upright as any Marine's. When they got to her door, he automatically looked away as she punched in her access code, and she laughed softly.

"Still a gentleman, too, I see. They haven't managed to train that out of you, either." Her hand was warm on his arm. "Bred in the bone, as they say. Come on in, excuse the mess."

As he'd figured, there was no mess. Her quarters were nearly as spare and spartan as his own. She gestured him to a chair beside a table that was barely big enough for a single plate, and headed over to the tiny kitchenette where she got out two glasses and a bottle. She returned to place the glasses on the table, and pour whiskey in each glass. It was The Macallan, not his usual, but a good single-malt. He approved. She took a seat across from him, and they silently raised their glasses and drank, toasting nothing, and everything. For a few moments there was a companionable silence between them, then she sighed.

"God, you were just a baby then, and look at you now. Where does the time go?"

"If anyone knows, they haven't seen fit to tell me," McQueen said ruefully, thinking about how many years it had been. Too many.

She chuckled. "Not surprising. Nobody tells us much of anything, except where to go and what to do. You really like the military? What are you? Army? Navy?"

McQueen frowned. "Marine."

Ceese looked apologetic. "Sorry. I really ought to get them straightened out if I'm gonna be working here. We almost never see anyone not in uniform." She leaned back in her chair took another sip of whiskey, and sighed. "A Marine, hunh? Tough bastards, I hear. That figures. Suits you, does it?"

He nodded. "It does."

She sighed. "That's too bad. I remember a time when it wouldn't have."

His jaw tightened, and he looked away. "I learned better."

"I know, hon. I was usually the one who got to clean you up." She studied his face. "Did a good job, too. No scars. Leastways, none that I patched. Web taught you pretty good."

McQueen nodded, acknowledging the debt. "He did. I still use some of his moves."

She smiled, an odd, knowing smile. "I'll bet you do," she said, her voice soft, intimate.

Their gazes met and locked, both of them remembering. McQueen looked away first, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with alcohol. He set down his glass. "I should go. You'll need to be getting ready for work."

She reached across the table and caught his hand. "Ty, don't. Don't run. You know you've nothing to fear here. You never did."

He met her gaze, and nodded, relaxing again. "Sorry, Ceese. Too many memories."

"God, don't I know it," she sighed. "It really is good to see you. Of all the Dragon's hatchlings, you're one of only a handful I ever cared enough to wonder about. Sometimes I'd hear the name 'McQueen' and think about you . . ." she stopped suddenly, and frowned. "Wait, you said you'd been in the military for fifteen years? You're not that McQueen are you?"

He tried not to smile. "What McQueen would that be?"

"The one who flew with the Angels."

He nodded. "Guilty as charged."

She studied him, shaking her head. "Guess I never saw a picture, just heard the name. All this time, and I never knew that was you. They never said that McQueen was a Tank."

He shook his head. "They don't much like to advertise the fact, except when an EEO group gets to nosing around, then they trot me out."

She grinned. "Well, I think I can understand that one, you're quite the advertisement. I'm surprised they haven't got you on their recruiting posters. Course, they couldn't keep them on the walls if they did, women would always be stealing them."

"Yeah, right," he snorted, but her humor had taken the bitter edge off his thoughts, and he took another sip of scotch, feeling its smoky warmth all the way down his throat and into his stomach. "Thanks, Ceese. I needed that. Being made fun of keeps me grounded."

She shook her head, her gaze sliding over him like honey, stirring memories. "I was serious. I didn't think you could get any better than you were when you were twenty but I was so wrong. My God, Ty, you just burn!"

"Damn it, Ceese, cut it out!" McQueen protested, feeling heat in his face.

She laughed, delighted. "I can still make you blush, after all these years! I guess I haven't lost my touch."

He glared at her in mock-affront. "Just don't do it in front of my 'kids.'"

She stared at him, surprised. "You have kids? They're here? Why didn't you say so! I want to meet . . ." Her voice trailed off, obviously in response to his expression. "Ty?" Her voice sounded uncertain.

McQueen sighed. He had to explain now. Damn. He hadn't thought he was so touchy.

"I didn't mean 'kids' that way, Ceese. I meant the 58th, that bunch I was with in the corridor. I don't have any children."

She nodded, slowly. "Oh. I see."

Ceese studied him for a moment longer, and McQueen schooled his face to reveal nothing. Her gaze went to his hands, then lifted again.

"Not married?"

He realized she'd been looking for a ring. He shook his head. "Not any more. You?"

She shook her head. "Nope, me either."

"Kids?" He asked, because that was where this conversation normally went, and he was striving for normalcy at the moment, to distract her from his too-revealing reaction.

She sighed, and gazed past his shoulder at some very distant place. "No. No kids."

He sensed something there, something that made him wonder if she was as sensitive about that as he was. Maybe it was a Tank thing. He'd never discussed it with anyone, except that one time with Winslow, but that had been a stress-induced moment of weakness. It was too private, too painful to talk about. But there was a certain strange rationality to the idea that the one thing they'd be most vulnerable about was the thing they had never been. To create a child with one's body was, in a way, an In-Vitro sacrament. A way of affirming their humanity.

The moment grew awkward, then Ceese broke the silence. "I have to get ready for work now, Ty. Would you," she paused, then continued with an tentativeness that didn't seem like the Ceese he remembered. "Would you come see me at work? I know you don't much care for clubs but I can make sure you get a good table, and I'd love to see you after I finish, if you don't have other plans."

He had no real plans, other than his usual film festival, but he knew them all by heart anyway and he didn't want to leave things on this awkward note. He could tell by the way she'd asked that it was important to her. At the point in his life when he'd been most needy, she and Web had been there for him. If she needed him now, he would be there. He smiled.

"Just tell me where and when, Ceese, I'll be there."

Her face lit up, reminding him yet again of other times. It stirred feelings he usually ignored, made him a little uncomfortable, but in a way that wasn't all bad. It probably wouldn't go anywhere, and that was all right, but it was nice to know that for the first time in a very long time he was in the company of a woman with whom he was utterly and completely equal. There were no subtle prejudices, no mixed signals, no lack of shared context. It was refreshing.

"Be at the Apollo Lounge in an hour. I'll reserve a table for you." She smiled. "Thank you, Ty."

He stood, recognizing his cue to leave. "For me, too, Ceese. I'll see you there."


Wang nudged Vansen with his elbow, and jerked his head toward the door. "There he is."

Vansen didn't turn around, she was otherwise occupied trying to catch the attention of the blonde British pilot who'd caught her eye. "There who is, Wang?" she asked, bored.

"The Colonel. Do you suppose they . . . you know?"

Vansen looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Wang. They were clearly old friends."

"So, old friends can't, uh . . ."

"Screw?" Vansen finished for him, amused that he was the one who couldn't say it. "Sure they can, but if they had, he wouldn't be here now." She looked at Wang with one eyebrow cocked. "Or do you really mean to tell me you think the Colonel would be done in. . ." She consulted her watch, ". . . forty-seven minutes?" She stuck her tongue in her cheek, and went for the kill. "Now you, maybe, or West, or Hawkes. But McQueen? Never. Maybe sometime tomorrow."

Wang blushed, muttered something that might have been 'never mind,' and moved down to stand next to West. Shane grinned at Damphousse and winked.

'Phousse looked at her with wide eyes, and leaned close. "Sounds to me like you've been thinkin' about it," she whispered.

Shane sighed. "Girl, do not get me started. I wish to hell Winslow had never said anything." She eyed the Brit again, and decided his butt just didn't measure up. Damn.

She glanced over in the direction that Wang had been looking, and watched the Colonel walk over to the interactive locator map next to the door where he paused a moment and typed something. He must have found whatever he was looking for, because after a few seconds, he turned and left. Shane watched him go, wistfully, until 'Phousse cleared her throat.

"Don't let Paul see that look. After what you just did to him, he'll go right for the throat."

Shane jerked her gaze back to her friend's amused face. "You are so right. Thanks."

'Phousse looked over toward where McQueen had been, and smiled. "I think I need a refill, how 'bout you?" Without waiting for Shane to answer, Vanessa wandered toward the bar. Her route took her by the door, where she paused a moment at the map. Leaving that, she bought two drinks, which she carried back over to where Shane waited.

"He queried someplace called 'The Apollo Lounge', and you're buying the next round."

"Absolutely," Shane said. "And thanks, but you didn't need to do that. I have no intention of making a fool of myself. I think one per squad is quite sufficient."

Vanessa shrugged. "Hey, no biggie. I just sometimes wonder what a man like the Colonel does on leave. I mean, he's not exactly the most casual sort of person."

"We know what he does on leave. He watches old movies."

"Sure, sometimes. But every time? Besides, I was curious about the woman he met down by the docking bay. I mean, when's the last time you heard anything about McQueen having old friends?"

"What about the Commodore?"

"I got the feeling this was a lot less recent than that."

Shane shrugged, trying hard to keep her nose in her own business. "Anomalous intuition?"

'Phousse laughed. "Maybe so, maybe so."


Ceese stared at the door for a long time after Ty left. After awhile, she lifted her glass and finished off her scotch, shaking her head. God, what a difference. She still remembered the first time she'd seen him, and would never have imagined he'd turn out this way.

"He's gotta be here somewhere," she could hear Web's voice, clear as if he were in the next room. "Manifest says we got twenty-two, and only twenty-one got off."

"What's the name?" Ceese asked, checking the list.

Web consulted the sheet, and pointed. "This one. McQueen, Tyrus Cassius."

Ceese wrinkled her nose. "Sheesh, what a name. Sounds like someone was into ancient Rome."

Web laughed. "Ceese, you're showin' your ignorance darlin'. Someone was into sports. Tyrus, no doubt after Ty Cobb, and Cassius, probably after Cassius Clay, better known as Muhammad Ali. Both were famous athletes of the twentieth century."

"Oh. Well, I liked my idea better. It's more dignified."

"I wouldn't mind being named for either of them. It's better than being named after a damned dictionary," Web said, looking disgruntled.

She laughed, and nodded. "Or a Simon and Garfunkle song, like me. 'Oh Ceceee-lia, you're breakin' my heart,'" she sang, stretching out the syllables comically. "Well, enough of that, let's keep looking. Unless they ate him, he's here."

Ceese moved into the next room and looked around. Nothing unusual. She turned to go, but an open storage locker caught her eye. She frowned. Not a good idea, things tended to fall out during takeoff. She walked over and reached to close it the rest of the way, and then stopped, her hand on the door. She could hear the soft sound of someone breathing shallow and rapid, like a trapped animal. Slowly she swung the door open instead of closed, and found herself looking into a pair of brilliant blue eyes.

She studied him, taking in the pale, perfect skin marred by fresh bruises and scrapes, the abject terror and pain in his gaze. She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened as she understood instantly what had happened. It wasn't the first time they'd found someone like this on a transport. Slowly she lifted one hand, holding it out to him, palm up.

"It's all right, hon, you can come out. No one's going to hurt you now."

He looked at her blankly, as if her words meant nothing. She repeated them, slower, remembering how hard it had been at first to understand people. "Take my hand," she suggested. Hesitantly he reached out, his fingers moving toward hers, then he looked past her. The fear returned to his face and he crammed himself back into the small space. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Web standing in the doorway. His presence must have been what scared the boy.

"Found him," she said softly, biting her lip as the tears threatened again. "Oh, Web, he's just a baby!"

"God damn them, they just don't learn, do they?" Web said, clearly trying not to let his anger show in his voice, knowing the youngster wouldn't understand that it wasn't directed at him.

Ceese shook her head. "No. They don't listen to us." She turned back to the boy. "Come on out, darlin'. Let Ceese take care of you. We'll get you fixed up. Don't mind Web, he looks mean but he's really a big softie, aren't you Web?"

Web nodded, smiling. "I just do what Ceese tells me. Everyone does, so you'd better mind her too. I'll just stay back here, out of the way."

Ceese saw the youngster's gaze flicker back and forth between her and Web, and she smiled. "Come on," she coaxed again. "Are you hungry? We can get you something to eat. We'll get you to the doc, too. Gotta make sure you're okay." She reached out, slowly, and found his hand. He let her tug him forward, taking a hesitant step, then another. Under her fingers, his skin was baby-soft, not a single callus in evidence. She shook her head. "Web, what's his decanting date?"

Web consulted the manifest, and swore creatively. "Twenty-six days ago."

Ceese sighed. That's about what she'd guessed. They'd dumped him out, given him three weeks of indoctrination, and then put him on a transport with a bunch of animals. "Hell of a welcome to the world," she said, disgusted.

She finally managed to coax him all the way out of his haven, and got him to accompany her to the infirmary. He hung onto her hand with a grip that made her fingers numb, but she didn't protest; he needed something to hang onto. Web followed a distance behind, careful not to get close enough to spook the boy again. Doc Nishikawa looked up when they entered his domain, took one look at the boy, and a pained expression crossed his face.

"Not again," he sighed. "I don't know why I keep filing protests about this kind of thing when it's obvious no one reads them."

"I think someone back at Expediting thinks its funny to put a newborn on a transport with a shipment of hard-timers," Web said bitterly from where he waited in the doorway. "They do it too frequently for it to be accidental. Damn them, they have to know what happens."

Nish's white lab-coat seemed to calm the boy, he sat unprotesting on the edge of an examination table as the doctor filled a syringe and injected him. His eyes drifted closed and he swayed as the sedative took hold. Web stepped forward and caught him, easing him back onto the table, then helped Nish undress him. Ceese went to stand in the comforting circle of Web's arms as they waited for the physician to complete his examination and treat the worst of the boy's injuries. Nish finally finished with a sigh, and turned to face them.

"He'll be all right. Give him clear liquids only for a couple of days until he's had a chance to heal up enough to handle more, and I want to see him back here in five. And for God's sake don't put him in the barracks. If those animals get near him they'll undo all my work."

Ceese nodded, her chin lifting. "He's staying with us. No one will touch him."

Nish nodded. "Good. That should do it." He smiled. "Nobody's brave enough to mess with your toys, Ceese."

"Damn straight," she growled. "Web, bring him."

Web nodded. "Doc, can I borrow a blanket?"

Nish tossed him one of the waffle-textured infirmary blankets. "Just bring it back next time you're in the area."

Web wrapped the boy up, and lifted him easily. Ceese warmed inside, loving the strength, and the gentleness of him. She followed as Web started out the door, but Nish picked up the clothes the boy had been wearing and held them out.

"Wait, don't you want these?"

Ceese shook her head. "Burn them." She knew from experience that the boy would never want to see them again. They'd just remind him of things he would be better off forgetting. If he could forget.

A shiver went through her, and suddenly Ceese was back in the present, staring across the table at the empty chair McQueen had occupied. Did he still remember? God, she hoped not. She picked up his glass off the table, noting there was a swallow of scotch left in the bottom of it. Turning the glass to where a faint smudge marked where his lips had touched it, she finished the last of it, wondering if she just imagined that she could taste him as well as the liquor.



McQueen used part of his hour to scout the place where he was supposed to meet Ceese. He found it with relative ease, but a glance inside told him he was underdressed. It was several steps up in quality from the tavern where the 58th usually hung out. Since he'd planned to spend his time in the theater as usual, he hadn't brought anything appropriate. He headed for the merchant's deck.

The clerk in the menswear shop took one look at him and started dragging out designer stuff he'd never be caught dead in. McQueen finally managed to persuade him of that, and was presented with some more realistic choices. He ended up with a slate-blue shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes that would allow him to move comfortably among the patrons of the Apollo, but that were neither ostentatious or uncomfortable. He found a locker near the boarding area for his other clothes. Then, though he was a little early, he returned to the Apollo to wait for Ceese.

When he stepped inside, one of the waitresses accosted him immediately.

"Ms. Baker asked me to show you to your table. If you'll follow me, I'll take you there."

McQueen looked at her, puzzled. "Who did?"

"Ms. Baker, your friend."

McQueen assumed that must be the name Ceese was using now. Interesting. She hadn't mentioned a name change. As the waitress led him to a table toward the back of the room with an unobstructed view of the small stage, he found himself curious. "How did you know who I was?"

"She described you, very well actually," the waitress said, her gaze flickering over him in a way that made him feel like a slab of meat in a butcher shop. He caught her gaze, and narrowed his own. She looked away, clearly embarrassed.

"Enjoy the show, sir," she said, hurrying away.

McQueen sat down, pleased that Ceese hadn't put him at the front of the room where he would feel uncomfortably exposed. A moment later the young woman returned.

"Compliments of Ms. Baker," she informed him, placing a bottle and a glass on the table.

McQueen read the label and smiled. Even the right brand, this time. Of course, it had been Web's favorite, too. That's where he'd learned to drink it to begin with. Ceese would remember that. He cracked the seal on the bottle, poured himself two fingers, and settled back, looking around curiously. The Apollo Lounge appeared to be a replica of an early twentieth-century nightclub. What was Ceese doing here? Tending bar? He glanced over at the long expanse of polished wood. No, she wasn't behind the bar.

He tried to think of what else she might be doing, and came up blank. When he'd known her, she'd been a miner, a crew-chief, and a mechanic. This didn't look like the kind of place where she could practice any of those skills. He wondered, uncomfortably, if maybe she was doing something a little less-- technical. No. He rejected the idea out of hand. Ceese wouldn't ever be reduced to selling her body for money. She wasn't callous enough to handle the loss of self involved in that. She'd always given herself freely, and with delight, never coldly. That line of thought led him into the past. He took another sip of his drink and closed his eyes, remembering.

It was dark, and quiet. Ty lay on the couch, trying to figure out what had woken him. Whatever it was had triggered his fear response, and his heart was pounding, every sense alert. He lifted himself on one arm, looking around cautiously. Nothing seemed to be wrong, yet something had woken him. Then he heard it again, and knew what had brought him awake, panicked. A soft moan. Silently he got to his feet and went in search of Ceese and Web, worried now.

The bedroom was lit by several small, flickering lights. They were odd, the lights moving and wavering within small cups. They seemed to color the air with heat and a faint, spicy perfume. He stared at them for a moment, puzzled, then a gasp drew his gaze to the bed. His eyes widened and his fists clenched as memories surged through him, memories of pain and fear. Despite the fact that Web was five inches taller and at least sixty pounds heavier, Ty couldn't allow him to do that to Ceese. His anger lent him strength as he moved to the bed, grabbed Web and hauled him bodily off her. Dragging Web to his feet, Ty stood with the older man in front of him, held tightly around waist and throat.

Web and Ceese both looked shocked, Web struggled, and Ty braced for a blow, but it never came as Web turned his head, looked into his face, and his expression slowly changed from anger to understanding.

"Let me go, Ty," he said quietly. "It's all right."

Ty shook his head and didn't loosen his grip. "No. You were hurting her."

"No, Ty, he wasn't."

Ty looked at Ceese, drawn by the soft warmth in her voice. His gaze moved down her body, suddenly aware of how different she was from either Web or himself. He'd known in his head that males and females were different, but the differences had never been so starkly demonstrated to him. He'd never seen Ceese naked before. Her body was slim, and muscular, yet somehow soft as well, with small, dark-nippled breasts and curving hips. He felt embarrassed, knowing he shouldn't be looking at her when she was naked. His programming told him that was unacceptable. She didn't seem to mind it, though, doing nothing to cover up.

"Ty, it really is okay. He wasn't hurting me, I promise. Now, let him go, and come over here." She patted the bed next to her. "I guess we need to explain about this. I hadn't thought about the fact that you wouldn't understand, not after-- everything."

Ty looked from her, to Web, and back, and finally relaxed his grip.

Web pulled away, rubbing his neck. "I'm glad to know you'd protect her if it was needed, but it's not. At least, not from me. Come on, Ty, have a sit." Web walked around to the far side of the bed and sat down behind Ceese, leaving the place in front of her open. She smoothed the sheet, and shifted back a little, making more room.

"Sit, Ty," she said, her tone soft, but definitely commanding.

Ty shot a glance at Web, who returned it evenly. He looked at Ceese, and knew he trusted her, even if he was still not quite sure about Web. She wouldn't let anyone hurt him, he knew that. He tentatively sat down on the bed next to her, keeping as far from Web as he could. Web put his hand on Ceese's shoulder, stroking her skin. Ty felt a strange inclination to do the same, but he resisted it, still wary. Ceese reached up and put one hand over Web's, then took Ty's hand in her other. He liked the feeling of her fingers against his. He felt included, safe.

"Ty, I know that your experience to date wouldn't lead you to believe it, but really, sex isn't supposed to hurt. It's supposed to feel good. Very good. Wonderful, in fact, if it's done right."

He could see in her eyes that she believed what she was saying. He didn't recognize the word, though. It must be one of those things that he hadn't learned about yet.

"What's 'sex?'"

Web and Ceese exchanged a look he'd seen before, the one that meant they were surprised by something. Ceese frowned.

"That should have been part of your deep-learning, before you were decanted. Try reproduction."

That word was familiar. He reviewed what he knew on that, and frowned. "Reproduction, that's sex?"

Ceese nodded.

He frowned. "But males can't reproduce with other males."

Ceese sighed. "No, they can't. See, you have to have sex to reproduce naturally, but you don't have to reproduce to have sex."

Ty gazed at her, confused. "I don't understand."

"No, I'm not surprised. I didn't say it very well. Okay, try this. You know how you can eat just to maintain your body, or you can eat for pleasure, just because it tastes good?"

He nodded. That had been a new experience for him, when Web had offered him ice cream. He'd never tasted anything so wonderful.

"Sex is like that. You can have sex just to reproduce, but you can also have it just for the enjoyment. Sometimes men have sex with men, or women with women, just for fun."

That made sense, sort of, though he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to do that for fun. The thought must have showed on his face, because she reached up and cupped his face in her palm.

"Oh, Ty. I know. But really, it is wonderful, when it's right. The problem is, the people who hurt you wanted it to feel good for them, but didn't care about you. That happens sometimes. It's not right, it's not good, but it happens. I promise you, it does feel good, when you do it right."

Web leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Ceese looked surprised, and stared at Web for a moment, then slowly a smile spread across her face like the sun breaking out.

"Web, my darling, you are a genius." She tugged on Ty's hand. "Lie down here by me."

Ty looked at Web suspiciously.

Web grinned. "Don't worry, Ty. I have designs on her, not you." He sobered. "Go on, you're safe from me, you have my word of honor."

Honor. His deep-learning had included words like 'honor,' 'trust,' 'hope' and 'love', but they were all just words to him, amorphous concepts that he had no real referent for. Still wary, but trusting Ceese, if not Web, Ty eased down on his side, facing her. She slid her hand out from under his, and moved it to his hip. He tensed. She left her hand there.

"Relax, Ty, I won't hurt you. We won't hurt you." She stressed the 'we'. "I'm going to touch you, is that all right?"

He nodded, intensely aware of the weight and heat of her hand. He felt flushed, and a little breathless, as if he'd been running. She moved her hand upward slowly, sliding it up from the protective covering of his sweat-pants to the bare skin above them, moving past his waist over his ribs, to the plane of his chest. Her touch was light until then, but she pressed her hand against his sternum with more force and he realized she wanted him to roll onto his back. With a combination of fear and curiosity, he complied with her unspoken request. She moved closer, rising up on her knees, then to his stunned surprise, she straddled him and sank down with her weight on his thighs. He felt a flash of panic, but she smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Ty. If you want me to stop, I'll stop." She glanced at Web, and they shared a look that seemed to say more than words might. "But I hope you won't."

Web grinned. "Give her a chance, Ty, she'll teach you to fly."

Ty thought about that, remembering the delight he'd felt in his first day or two aboard the transport, watching the stars, before anything bad had happened. He wanted to fly.

"I don't know what to do," he said, feeling stupid.

Ceese smiled. "That's all right, we'll show you."

She cupped his face in her palm again, and leaned down, brushing her lips across his cheekbone, down the side of his face, then moving down to his neck. He felt the hot flick of her tongue against his skin, and seconds later her breath against his ear. A shudder went through him, hot and startlingly pleasurable. An ache was growing just above the place where she straddled him, a good kind of ache, if there was such a thing. He didn't know what else to call it. He shifted restlessly beneath her, and she laughed against his throat. The sensation tickled, and he found himself reciprocating her chuckle.

As if in reward for that, her mouth moved upward again, across his chin, before coming to rest against his own with the barest pressure. He knew what this was. He'd seen it on a vid. A kiss. He waited a moment, pretty sure there was more to it than this. He remembered the man had put his arms around the woman, put his hand on her head, pulled her closer. Tentatively he reached up, and felt the warm silk of Ceese's naked back beneath his left hand, the close-cropped curls of her hair beneath his right. She made a little sound, and he was encouraged to press her closer to him. The pressure of her mouth on his increased, and strangely, softened. Her lips parted, then her teeth, and again she flicked her tongue against his skin. The shiver that coursed through him was stronger that time, and the ache in his groin seemed to increase exponentially.

Ceese lifted away, looking a query at him. He was disappointed and didn't know quite what it was she wanted. He just wanted to taste her, wanted to know what it was like to do that thing with his tongue. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and urged her back toward him. The question in her eyes turned to elation as she lowered her mouth to his. He used his tongue as she had, delicately, just the barest flicker against her mouth. She turned her head a little. He tasted the corner of her mouth, felt the hard contour of her teeth, and a moment later he gasped in shock as he felt the slick heat of her tongue against his own.

Ty jerked away, staring, heart pounding, but this time not in fear. The pounding in his chest was echoed elsewhere, lower, and her eyes seemed smoky as she leaned forward, moving up so that she was straddling his hips, not his thighs. She moved against him, a slow tilt of her pelvis, her eyes drifting closed as she made a little 'mmm' sound like she did when she tasted something she liked. She leaned across to where Web waited and kissed him too. Ty watched, taking in the difference between what he had done, and what Web was doing. More movement, soft parting and returning, a rhythmic stroke of tongue against tongue. He could do that. As she kissed Web, her body kept moving against Ty's in slow, deliberate waves. Ty's heart was beating so fast he thought he must be sick, but the sensations were anything but unpleasant.

Finally she pulled her mouth from Web's and sighed. "Oh, my, this is nice," she sighed, and looked back to Ty, her mouth still moist, lips parted.

He pulled her down, eager to try again, and everything went wrong. Their noses collided, and before he could let go her mouth ground against his, painfully. She eased back, rubbing her nose, but her warm, encouraging smile took the sting from his ineptitude.

"Slowly, Ty, gently. Make it subtle, make it last." She leaned down again, and put her mouth on his.

Somehow he tempered his eagerness and imitated Web, licking, sucking, but softly. It was better, much better. She tasted good, not good like ice cream, but good in a different and equally wonderful way. A part of his anatomy that he'd never paid much attention to before was demanding it now, full, and hard, suffusing him with a pleasure that was almost painful. Every time Ceese shifted her hips against his he thought he might. . . something. He didn't know what, but it was near, he could feel that much.

Without breaking their kiss she reached down and found one of his hands, and lifted it, cupping it over her breast. The hard thrust of her nipple nudged his palm, and curious, he shifted his hand until his fingers could touch it. He felt a little shiver run through her as he did. She liked that, he could tell. If she liked that, what else would she like? He felt irritated at his own ignorance. He wanted to know more, wanted to know how to make her feel as good as he did right now. With reluctance he turned his head to break their kiss, and looked up at her.

"Show me what feels good to you," he demanded.

She caught her breath, and shook her head. "You're doin' fine, baby. Just keep on like you are."

He felt a little shock of hurt at the offhand insult. "I'm not a baby," he insisted.

She smiled that smile that hit him right in the groin. "That's a love-word, Ty, it's like darlin', or sweetheart. It's not literal. You're definitely no baby." She reached down and cupped that newly demanding part of him in her hand. "Not at all."

Ty closed his eyes and lifted against her hand, aching, wanting, but not knowing what. It felt so damned good. She stroked him, her touch maddeningly muted by his clothes.

"Ceese, honey, better give him a break," Web said softly. "He's gonna hit escape velocity in a minute here if you don't ease off."

Ceese sighed, and moved her hand. "You're right." She leaned down and kissed Ty on the corner of his mouth, and then shifted her weight off him. "Sorry hon, I guess I forgot you're new at this. You're a quick study." She lay back on the bed, and looked up at Web, then back at Ty. "Time for a little cool down, Ty. Watch, and learn. Then it's your turn."

Ty stared at her, confused. He didn't want to cool down. He wanted to feel her hand on him some more, wanted to touch her breasts, and kiss her, and . . . what? He definitely didn't want to wait for his 'turn', whatever that meant. Unconsciously his hand moved down to his groin, touching where she'd touched. The fabric of his pants was stretched tight over his body, and it was slightly damp. Puzzled he ran his fingers over the damp patch, then closed his eyes, shivering as his own touch recalled Ceese's. He heard Web chuckle, and felt someone catch his hand.

"Do that and you'll miss out on the best part, Ty." Web said. "Wait. It'll be worth it, I promise."

Ty opened his eyes and looked at the hand that held his. Instantly he yanked his hand away, realizing it was Web's, not Ceese's. Web looked at him for a long moment, his expression almost seeming sad, but he didn't touch Ty again. Ty touched that damp spot again with a careful finger, wondering what had made it that way, but the urgency had passed with the flash of fear. Gradually he relaxed a little, and the look on Web's face filtered past his reflexive fear. Ty's reaction had obviously troubled him.

"You okay?" Web asked, his voice a rumble as dark and rich as his skin.

Ty looked at him and nodded, slowly, feeling oddly remorseful for his overreaction. "Sorry."

Web shook his head. "Not your fault, Ty, I understand. But I might need to touch you sometimes, to teach you. Will you be okay with that?"

Ty thought about it, and sighed. "I don't know."

Web nodded. "Fair enough. I'll always ask first. Regardless, I promise you've nothing to fear from me. I wouldn't hurt you any more than I would hurt Ceese."

Ty was beginning to believe him, but it was difficult. Web was an intimidating man. Tall, heavily muscled, and perpetually serious; his shaven head and close-trimmed beard and moustache somehow seemed drawn from a video villain. He never did anything to foster that image, but the way the other miners treated him reinforced the impression of quiet power he projected. Even though he had always been even-tempered and gentle toward Ty, it was difficult not to be aware of what he could do, should he choose to.

Apparently reassured that Ty wasn't about to bolt, Web turned his attention to Ceese then. Supporting himself on one arm, he leaned down, dropping soft kisses on her eyelids, her cheekbones, her nose, her chin, before finally settling over her mouth for a long kiss. Ceese made that little noise in her throat again, and her arms came up, sliding over the muscles of Web's back as if she were learning him by touch. Ty wanted to feel her hands on him like that. He watched, utterly spellbound as one of Web's big hands slid down Ceese's body, pausing to shape one breast against his palm, and tug gently at the nipple with his fingers before moving down over the soft rise of her belly, and finally coming to rest over the delta between her thighs.

Ceese gasped and arched, spreading her thighs wider to accommodate Web's hand. His fingers moved, and she moaned. Ty tensed, automatically reaching out to grab Web's wrist. Web stilled, and looked at him.

"I'm not hurting her," he said firmly.

Ty looked at Ceese, who had opened her eyes. She nodded. "Just the opposite, Ty. It feels good," she moistened her lips. "Really good." Her voice was a throaty whisper.

Ty felt the tendons in Web's wrist move under his fingers as Web touched her again, and Ceese gave a little shudder. Web lifted his hand, drawing Ty's gaze back to him.

"If you'll let me take your hand, I'll show you what she likes," Web offered calmly.

Ty thought about it, and his curiosity and desire to have Ceese respond like that to him outweighed his trepidation. Besides, it was just his hand, that wouldn't hurt anything. He nodded slowly. Web moved his hand to cover Ty's, guiding it down to where his own had been a moment earlier.

His breath caught in his throat. The feel of her under his fingers was utterly different from what he'd expected. Not warm and smooth and dry like her back or breast, but hot, and very soft, and slickly wet. He realized now where that damp spot had come from. Her. Against him. The ache in his groin that had begun to subside a little suddenly flared anew. Ceese moaned as Web led Ty's fingers into the convoluted folds until they came to rest against something that felt like a seed beneath her flesh.

"There, very softly. Like this . . ." Web guided Ty's fingers around the tiny nub in a circular motion, barely even touching her at all. Ceese's lower body lifted off the bed as she followed that touch with her hips, and her hands clenched onto the sheets.

"Oh, yeah!" she gasped. "Just like that!"

Ty forgot about being wary of Web, and looked at him, grinning. "She likes it."

Web chuckled. "Does she ever."

Ty concentrated a moment, learning what touches drew little sounds from her, which ones made her shiver, which ones made her moan. She seemed even wetter now, and he looked at Web, puzzled.

"What makes her wet?"

Web grinned. "Nature. That's what keeps it from hurting when you do this--." Web moved their hands lower, then with gentle pressure pushed two of Ty's fingers into velvet fire. Ceese's body yielded, surrounding his fingers, and she bucked and gave a little cry. Ty would have jerked his hand away, afraid he'd hurt her, but Web didn't let him and a look at her face reassured him, mostly. She wouldn't be smiling if it hurt.

"You're sure it doesn't hurt?" Ty asked her, remembering something similar that had.

"No, darlin', no!" Ceese gasped. "It's wonderful!"

"See, a woman's body's made for this," Web explained, still guiding Ty's hand, moving it so his fingers slid deeper, then out, then in again. "This, and more. Yours isn't, not without help, anyway. You won't hurt her now, not when she's ready like this. It takes a little time, a little effort to get her to this point, but it's worth it."

"Sometimes she's not like this?"

Web shook his head. "No, most of the time not, and you never want to touch a woman like this if she isn't." He grinned. "But it doesn't usually take long to get her here if she's interested."

Ty stored the information against future need, stunned at how much there was to know. He wondered if he'd ever be able to remember it all, or figure out which things were important and which weren't. This was important, he realized. If he didn't take the time, it might feel as bad to her as it had to him, and he would never do that to anyone else.

"Web, I want it," Ceese whispered, her hand coming down to rest on theirs, three sets of fingers moving in unison. Her hips undulated with the rhythm of their caress, her breath coming fast and shallow.

Web stroked his mouth over her cheek, and kissed her ear. "Don't be so impatient, we're not nearly ready for that yet."

"I am!" Ceese said, vehemently.

"There's a couple of really important things left to show him, first."

Ceese looked from Web to Ty, and sighed, biting her lip. "I don't know how much more of you showing him I can stand."

Instantly Ty tried to move his hand again. This time both Web and Ceese stopped him. Web chuckled.

"She didn't mean that literally, Ty. You have to learn to listen to her voice instead of her words. Tell him what you really meant, Ceese."

Her eyes were sparkling as she reached up and touched Ty's face with gentle fingers. "What I meant was, watching him show you, feeling you learning, is just about more than I can handle. Between the two of you, you've got me so excited I can hardly stand it."

"Fortunately, I know from experience she can stand quite a lot." Web winked, and Ceese looked embarrassed.

"Web!"

He shook his head. "Oh no, no false modesty, my sweet." He looked at Ty. "Observe."

Web kissed a path down her throat to one small breast, and took the tightly-furled nipple between his lips, suckling.

Ty felt her channel tighten around his fingers as she gasped, and he realized that was in response to what Web was doing. He watched more carefully as Web lifted his head, kissed the uplifted nipple, licked it lightly, then very carefully closed his teeth around it, tugging with just the faintest pressure. Again, Ty felt and saw Ceese respond, both internally and externally. After a moment, Web sat back, and gestured for Ty to take his place.

Ty tried to lean forward without moving his hand, and found it awkward. He looked to Web, who smiled and nodded.

"I'll take over."

Relieved, Ty slid his fingers free, and moved up next to Ceese so he could reach her breast. He used his hand to frame her nipple, and as his lips came down on her he suddenly realized he could taste the moist heat of her on his fingers as well as the subtler flavor of her breast. The scent and taste of her on his fingers sent a shudder through him. Remembering the nipple-like nub at the apex of her thighs, Ty wondered if she liked to be kissed there too. He tugged at her breast as he'd seen Web do, nibbling, licking, suckling, and Ceese's hand came up to cup his head, her fingers stroking through his hair as she made little sounds that he was beginning to realize meant she liked what he was doing. He liked it himself, touching her made that delicious ache in his groin intensify.

The way he was lying, her hip was pressed against him right where the ache was strongest. He moved against her, as she had done to him before. He closed his eyes at the intensity of the pleasure, trembling with the need to do something, but without the knowledge he needed to know what it was. Ty lifted his head to catch his breath and Ceese moved her fingers to his lips, tracing their contours, with gentle fingers. Her touch seemed to send sparks through him, and he made a soft sound not unlike the ones she'd just been making. She looked into his eyes for a long moment, and moved her palm to stroke his face.

"Web, you can show him the other stuff later," she said huskily. "I don't think he can handle much more of this, and I know I can't. I need more."

Web propped himself on his elbow, looked from her to Ty, and back, and nodded gravely.

"Who?" he asked quietly.

"I have to choose?" she pouted.

He chuckled. "No, you don't have to choose. If you want both, you get both, but I think maybe it's not such a good idea to try to have both of us at the same time, at least not until things are a little less . . . fresh in his mind. And remember, he doesn't know how."

"So, go first and show him," she said, putting her hand behind Web's head to pull him down for a kiss.

Ty didn't know what they were talking about, but he was certainly willing to learn if it felt anywhere near as good as what they'd already shown him. He felt oddly excluded as Web and Ceese kissed, so he concentrated on stroking and caressing her to regain that connection. Her body moved under his hands, arching and shivering. He loved that his touch could make her do that. She pulled her mouth from Web's and caught Ty's hands with her own, locking her gaze with his.

"Ty, you gotta watch for a little bit. That's going to be hard, I know. Just remember, Web won't hurt me. Also, you can touch too, if you want, but you have to watch first so you learn what to do. Just remember . . ." she smiled, and lifted her hands to his face, pulling him forward for a long, soft kiss. Her tongue slid over his, warmly intimate, sending that electric delight arcing through him. Finally she let him go and licked her lips. "Remember, you're next, darlin'. Now, move over there a bit," she nodded toward the edge of the bed.

Ty didn't really understand, but he did as she asked. He always did what she asked. She settled back, and looked at Web, who leaned down and kissed her with a tenderness Ty could almost feel himself, even just watching. After a moment, Web lifted again, and stretched out on the bed on the other side of Ceese. With her body a living buffer between him and Web, Ty instantly felt more comfortable. Ceese turned away from Ty to face Web and brought her upper leg over his hip. Web slid his arm under her knee and shifted her leg higher, almost up to his ribs, exposing the soft, darkly-flushed folds between her thighs. From behind she looked very different from the way Ty had seen her before. They kissed again, and Web stroked between her thighs, slowly, using a single finger to touch her, sliding it inside her, then out, then in again.

Remembering how she'd felt around his fingers, the ache in Ty's crotch got much worse and he had to tug at the soft fabric of the sweats he wore to give himself more room. Ceese had been right, it was hard to watch, and not touch. He wanted to touch, but she'd told him to learn, so he waited to see what it was he was supposed to learn. As Ceese reached out and curved her fingers around Web's erect cock, a flush went through Ty as he thought about her touching him that way. His body was telling him in very demanding tones that he was supposed to be part of what Web and Ceese were doing.

Ty set his jaw and watched out of half-closed eyes as she stroked and fondled Web, thinking that maybe if he didn't see as clearly it might help. It didn't. He had a sudden suspicion he knew where this was going, and as Ceese drew Web forward and guided him between her thighs, it was confirmed. He watched in envious fascination as she took Web into her body, seemingly with ease. She moaned that pleasure-moan, and both partners started to move in rhythm. Ty closed his eyes. He couldn't watch any more. He knew what he needed to know now, and to watch any more was torture.

That lasted until he felt the bed shift and the rhythm change. He had to know, so he opened his eyes again. They'd turned so Ceese was sitting astride Web's hips, much as she had done to Ty earlier. She had her hands braced on Web's broad chest, and was rocking herself slowly. Web had one hand between them, and Ty knew exactly what his fingers were doing in the tangle of dark curls there. He choked back a whimper of painful desire but not soon enough, Ceese turned and looked at him, her gaze warm and sympathetic. Web tugged her down and put his lips against her ear, whispering. She nodded, and smiled, reaching to gently stroke Web's face before she shifted her weight onto her knees, and lifted herself from him. Ty saw an expression of almost-pain cross Web's face, then he took a couple of rapid, deep breaths, and it faded.

Then Ty wasn't paying any attention to Web at all, because Ceese was kneeling in front of him, and her fingers were on the waist of his pants, tugging at the drawstring.

"May I?" She asked softly, her voice still holding that husky sound that made him shiver.

He nodded, and she untied them, then slid them down, carefully.

"Lift up," she said.

He complied, and she slid them the rest of the way down, and off. Then she was pushing him down onto his back, and moving over him. Her hand was gentle, warm and excruciating on his inflamed flesh as she curled her fingers around him just as she had done with Web. He couldn't help it, he moaned. She stroked him, just a little, and he thought he might die. She shifted her grip, using her fingers to position him as she moved her body over his. For a moment she paused, he could feel the hot, slick-silky heat of her with just the tip of his penis, then she sank down, engulfing him.

Nothing had ever felt so good, absolutely nothing. Hot, wet fire surrounded him, caressed him. Compared to this, even the most intense pleasure he'd known in his short waking span was pale and lifeless. He clutched at her hips, bucking beneath her, pushing himself deep into the yielding heat of her body. She leaned forward, her hips moving in that exquisite undulation she'd used before.

He echoed her rhythm, his hand sliding between them to feel where they fused, where she opened, and he entered. His fingers grazed the sensitive nub at the top of her sex, and she suddenly went stiff, her head thrown back, a soft cry breaking from her throat. Inside, he felt her tighten around him in a rapid, delicate flutter and couldn't take it any more. He grabbed her hips in his hands and held her firmly in place as he thrust up into her until every nerve in his body exploded with delight.

Pleasure swept through him in pulsing waves, leaving him panting and drained. His hands slid from her hips to lie limply on the bed and he couldn't have moved if his life had depended on it. Ceese gave a whole-body shiver, and sighed deeply. She sat motionless for several moments, then slowly her eyes opened, and her gaze caressed him almost physically.

"Lovely, Ty. Perfect. Do you believe us now? It's fun."

Ty wanted to say it was so far past 'fun', that he had no words to describe it, but having no words, all he could do was nod.

She smiled, and leaned down to kiss him. "Thank you, for letting me be your first. That's a very special thing."

He agreed. He couldn't think of anything more special. Again, he had no words, so instead he reached up and touched her mouth with his fingers. Someday he would have the right words. He'd tell her then. He turned his head a little, and saw Web watching them, a smile lurking around his full mouth. It suddenly dawned on him that Web had given up his place within the sweet, hot depths of Ceese's body so that Ty could gain the release he needed.

He felt a strange ache deep in his chest. Why would Web have done that? How could he have done that? Ty knew there was no way on earth he could have stopped and let someone else take his place. Tentatively he reached out toward Web's hand, touching his fingers. Web looked startled, then he smiled, and clasped Ty's hand firmly, acknowledging his unspoken thanks.

Ceese sniffled, and wiped her eyes. "You two are gonna kill me," she said, her voice hoarse.

Web grinned. "Only with kindness, sweetheart. Now, I think I've waited long enough, get your pretty little butt over here."

She laughed, which did fascinating things to Ty's softening penis within her. She lifted away from Ty, sighing as he slipped from her body, then flopped down onto her back between Web and Ty, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "I'm all yours, Web."

He chuckled. "Lazy wench. You're going to make me do all the work?"

She nodded, looking innocent.

Web sighed, and shook his head. "The things I do for you." He knelt between her thighs, and bent to place a kiss just above the soft curls of her mons, then one on each breast. She shivered, and sighed. Web slid a hand under her rear, and lifted her pelvis a little, then he was pressing into her in a long, slow thrust. Ty, watching her face, could almost feel her pleasure as Web filled her.

This time, his own need assuaged and his body replete, he could watch without pain, though watching them did wake a shadow of new desire in him. They went on for a long time, moving slowly, touching, kissing. It was very different from what he and Ceese had done, while at the same time, not different at all. He began to realize that there must be hundreds of variants possible. Interesting thought. Web brought Ceese to climax twice before he shuddered into her with a basso-profundo groan that Ty could feel in his teeth. After a little while, he thought they had gone to sleep, and decided maybe he should slip out of the bed and go back to the couch. As he started to do so, Ceese stirred and reached out, grabbing his hand.

"Stay, darlin'. Sleep with us."

He let her pull him back into bed, and strangely, felt no more fear of Web as he drifted off to sleep.


Next : Part Two


Kellie Matthews-Simmons © 1998