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I moaned again.
Otherwise, there was nothing.
We didn’t talk.
The silence stretched on and on, and now it was starting to get really awkward. We were going to have to talk again. We were going to have to look at each other, but I didn’t want to lift my head. I wanted to stay just like this, cheek on the seat, legs jelly, facing away from him, for the rest of eternity.
So, I determined I would.
Except the hidosec I decided that, I got uncomfortable. My legs weren’t going to be happy this way, tangled up on the floor, and my neck was at an angle that I couldn’t sustain and… wow, what had his teeth done to my skin? There had been that moment of pain? Was I bleeding?
I put my hand to my neck and sat up and then looked at my fingers.
No blood.
“I’m really sorry.” His voice was raw.
I looked up at him.
He was looking back at me. He was sitting up, and his pleasure cock was still huge and engorged and it looked sort of slick and gleaming—oh, was that fromme?
Okay, this was embarrassing.
“It’s all right,” I said in a very funny voice that didn’t even sound like mine.
“It’s not.” He shook his head. “It’s really not all right at all.”
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to smile.
“Your, um, your shoulder? Are you…? Did I…?”
I twisted to try to look at it, but I couldn’t see anything. I touched it. It was tender there, but I couldn’t… I didn’t feel indentations of his teeth or anything.
“I don’t even know what that was,” he said softly. “I never did anything like that before. It was like, I don’t know, I needed to hold you in place, I needed to…subdueyou.” He made a face and looked away and a tremor of what seemed to be revulsion went through him.
“It’s fine,” I said again, and now I sounded chirpy. “It’s really…” I tried to sit up and realized my pants were tangled around my calves. I couldn’t stand upright in the speeder, so I bent over and pulled my pants up. “Fine.” I fastened the eazclasp and sat down. “I mean, you didn’t damage me. It felt really good. And you said you could stop and I totally told you not to. So, it’s, you know, it’s my own fault.”
He scoffed. He wasn’t looking at me.
I fingered my shoulder.
He turned back around and examined it. “You’re going to bruise.”
I wriggled away from him.
“I seem to like that, marking you, that seems to be making all kinds of weird things happen in there.” He glanced down at his crotch. He reached down behind his pleasure cock and felt around, making a face.
“Is it descending?” I breathed.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“That’s how it works, right? This is, um, what was it called, the first mounting?”
He did that shudder of revulsion again.
“So, then your actual cock—do you call it an actual cock—”
“Mating cock.”
