Valves & Vixens, Volume 2 Read online

  Then Jordan was flooding her arse with his hot seed. She thought no one could produce so much cum as he pumped into her, his cock pulsing in her arse as Neil still fucked her vagina.

  When Jordan’s cock softened and slipped from her he stood, pulling her off Neil and putting her on her hands and knees on the bed. Neil came behind her and then his stiff cock was in her arse, slippery in Jordan’s cum. Jordan sat next to her smiling contentedly.

  “Now your treat,” he said. He reached to the night-stand and found something. He moved his hand to her cunt and she knew it was the first toy she had tried. He slipped it inside her and switched it on.

  “Damn that feels nice,” Neil cried.

  Nice wasn’t the word that came to Vanessa’s mind. No words came to her mind. The vibrations of the clockwork toy in her cunt with Neil fucking her arse gave control of her universe to her limbic mind. Thought was replaced by nothing but the passion of the fuck. It ran through her. She was nearing exhaustion, but her animal self rose to the occasion, mustering enough energy to respond and she came again, her body a violently spastic creature that had Neil’s cock taking its pleasure in her arse.

  But he was coming too. His arms wrapped around her as he drove his cock in her to the hilt. Instinctively she reached back between her legs and found his balls and caressed them as he throbbed, spurting his seed in her.

  And they collapsed, Neil sliding to her side, his cock spreading his cum across her arse and the backs of her legs. Gently, Jordan removed the toy from her exhausted cunt.

  As the spinning room began to sort out and the deafening pounding of blood in her ears subsided she heard Sue crying, “Oh my God,” repeatedly. Although still bound she was bouncing her own arse on the bed. Jordan put his face on Vanessa’s back, which gave him a good look at the toy moving inside the woman.

  “I think the program might need toning down for the average woman,” Neil said as Sue suddenly slumped.

  Jordan touched the lips of her pussy. “You better ask her opinion when she recovers,” he said. “We don’t want to make any stupid marketing decisions.”

  After Jordan untied Sue, they all got into Neil’s huge tub for a hot bath.

  “I’d love to continue this,” Neil said. “Assuming I could. But tomorrow is a big day.”

  “Ah yes, the end of ride,” Sue said wistfully.

  “But the start of something quite new,” Neil said.

  Sue smiled. “There is that.”

  They cleaned up and had drinks, then returned to their rooms where Vanessa fell into a deep and erotic sleep.

  ***

  Vanessa sat in the lounge having a drink. Through the large port she could see the colourful bustle that was Bangkok. It swarmed with people and looked so different from a crowded street in Madrid.

  She wondered what would happen now. The free ride was over. Neil had presented his idea and she had accepted it as a possible solution to the problems she wanted to address. The mechanics would have to be discussed, but she would support the new company and the idea behind it.

  What bothered her still was the uncertainty between her and Jordan. She cared for the man more than she wanted to admit and she was concerned that getting carried away with both men might have ruined that. She hadn’t seen Jordan all morning. He might be busy, but he might be avoiding her, as well.

  Just then he came in to the lounge, smiling. “I was wondering where you got off to,” he said.

  “I missed you at breakfast. I expected to see you sometime during the day.”

  “I should have told you that I was having breakfast with our own bigwigs and the Prime Minister of Thailand. It’s all schmoozing to ensure that we get the permits for making flights here and for the new factory.”

  “You’ll build it here?”

  “Absolutely. That will keep labour costs down and, not incidentally, employ a lot of poor Thais, mostly women.”

  “A good combination,” she said.

  “Those things go on forever, but as soon as business wrapped up my thoughts turned to you,” he said. “As they tend to.”

  “They did? They do?”

  He came behind her chair and put his hands on her shoulders. She warmed to his touch and felt herself grow weak as his hands moved down, untying the bodice of her dress and slipping under the top to hold and squeeze her breasts.

  “I intended to come in and invite you to take a tour of Bangkok with me,” he said.

  “You don’t seem to be going in that direction.”

  He laughed. “I’m weak. I confess that I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he said.

  “I like the way that sounds,” she said. “I couldn’t agree more. You definitely need more of me.”

  He slid her dress down her shoulders, exposing her breasts. It struck her that someone might come in on them. As he bent to nuzzle her neck while his fingers pinched and toyed with her nipples, realized she didn’t care in the least.

  “For me to come close to getting enough of you, I’m afraid I will have to ask you to stay with me in Bangkok,” he said.

  She opened her eyes and saw the familiar fire smouldering in his eyes. “Stay with you?”

  “I am staying to set up the factory. We want you in charge of community relations, letting the world know how the company works and lobbying other companies to license their technology to us for new products.”

  “You want me to stay here to work with you?” she asked feeling like a ninny for repeating his words.

  His huge hand caressing her arse made her hot with desire for him.

  “Yes, but I want more than that. In fact I’d be hard pressed to find ways and situations in which I didn’t want you.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I like that look in your eye,” she said.

  “Do you?” he chuckled.

  She reached for his crotch and found his prick stiffening in his pants. She undid his pants and reached in, capturing it with her eager fingers, feeling it growing in her hand. “Yes, your visibly insane lust is lovely. But what if you grow bored with me?”

  “Bored? If we need variety, we can always design a new test for one of Neil’s toys,” he said with a grin that bordered on evil. “Stay and work with me, and I will fuck you in ways neither of us has even imagined yet.”

  “And then what? When the work is done, I mean?” she asked, feeling breathless.

  “By the time the factory is finished I’m sure Neil will have some other mad scheme it will be fun to pursue. Or maybe we will just take an airship to a new place. Together.”

  His words melted her fears. She reached for his cock and found it growing hard again. “I’ve never been fucked in Constantinople,” she said. “Only over it.”

  “There is something to look forward to,” he said. “But here and now I need you. I have been dreaming, fantasizing about fucking your sweet arse again and Bangkok seems a lovely place to do it.”

  She kissed him and decided she would suck him another time. “Then fuck me in Bangkok, Jordan. Fuck my arse in an airship tethered in Bangkok.”

  Which he did, when she felt his cock stretch her sphincter, her pain and excitement fused together. They had a great deal to work out still. They had never talked about the nature of this relationship, but she knew it would be intense. And they would have many days and nights of glorious fucking in Bangkok and see what the future brought them.

  His Fortnight Man

  Kim Knox

  Waiting for the arrival of Commander Julius Axton twisted and cramped my gut.

  I stood in the dark, vaulted lobby as two of the young apprentices gripped the handles of the great locks on the heavy metal door. Making ready. The workshop of my employer, Master Engineer and Metalsmith, Robert Isham stored the finest - and most expensive - suits in the Empire. He took no risks wit
h his stock.

  I rubbed my palms against my hips, masking the action with a hard tug at my waistcoat. Mr Isham couldn’t see my nerves. I was his devil - first amongst his journeymen - and he was showing great trust in letting me perform the final fit for Commander Axton.

  But he’d yank me away if he saw my shakes and throw me back into little more than tramp-work. Running and fetching for senior apprentices and no doubt a harsh cut to my pay for the privilege. A final fitting required a steady hand and in allowing me to fit Axton’s suit, Mr Isham was presenting me as worthy of him and his work. However remaining calm and steady around the commander was something that escaped me. Always had.

  I drew in a breath, pulling in the sour, workshop air. No, nothing would spoil the first private moment I would have with the man. Not even my own nerves.

  In the past, I’d watched the initial construction of Axton’s suit, half-hidden behind a thick screen. The alcove was cramped, with its beaten metal wall and a slow moving fan turning and cleaning the air of smoke, ash and the stink of hot metal. My job was to shovel coke into the machine that drove the soldering iron, to keeping the heat even. An apprentice’s job, but I volunteered for this work. The Commander drew me against all sense. I couldn’t fight it. I didn’t want to.

  My master worked in the fitting room beyond and I’d catch only sly glimpses of him and his elusive client. He’d hammer and cut, whilst Axton braced to stillness against the needle-thin, white-hot tip of the iron that formed the bespoke metal suit around his body.

  As a journeyman, I’d finished suits for lesser officers. But this was Commander Julius Axton. Leader of the elite 1st Lunar Expeditionary Force. A man who’d strode across the surface of the moon. I was all too aware of how privileged I was. And now my wait was soon to be over.

  The boy at the metal grilled window waved his hand, breaking into my reverie. The air changed, growing thick with nerves and anticipation. I lifted my chin, unclenching my jaw. Perhaps it was only my own uneasy thoughts painting the tension. With a sharp nod from me, the apprentices worked at the oiled bolts. “The clank’s steppin’ down from his carriage.”

  Clank. The common word used for men such as the Commander. One I never allowed. “He’s a fortnight man. A soldier, an officer. He has a name and rank. Use it.”

  The boy gave a quick nod. “Open up,” - a quick nervous glance at me-”Commander Axton is right there.”

  The heavy fall of the locks and the scrape of the metal against the tiled floor brought my wandering mind back to the job and I straightened. I was a representative of Mr Isham. I had to appear professional.

  Hazy afternoon sunlight filled the doorway and I squinted. The rumble of overhead trains, the shouts of sailors, the creak of ships’ timbers and carts and horses broke the silence. Our workshop hid in plain sight in the great docks of Liverpool, none suspecting that Her Majesty’s greatest endeavour had its home in such chaos. On a gust of air, the stink of the docks, of salt, sand and shit cut through the stuffiness of the lobby. A shadow moved, and the apprentices scrambled back as I willed my feet forward.

  I’d greeted him before. Twice, in fact...but, still, my mouth was dry and I nodded, my heart thudding, before I got my tongue to work. “Commander Axton.”

  The commander handed his walking stick and hat to one of the hovering apprentices. With the light behind him, it was hard to make out the expression on his face. Was he irritated that a mere journeyman would be seeing to him today?

  “Marlow.”

  I blinked. He knew my name. Pulling in a quick breath, I turned and waved my arm - too fast - towards the darkened passageway that led to the fitting rooms. “If you would follow me, please?”

  I fought to keep my pace even, not to glance back and to keep my spine straight and my chin lifted. Appearance was everything. Mr Isham had drilled that into me from the time I’d joined his workshop as a fresh-faced boy of thirteen. Officers had to trust us, trust us with their lives. Still, my stomach twisted and a tightness gripped my chest.

  “Relax, Marlow.” Axton’s smooth, deep voice wrapped around me in the shadows of the corridor. “The fitting will go well.”

  I couldn’t help it, I stared back at him, caught his face in the white light of the single electric bulb. The illustrations in The Times or the more scurrilous News never quite captured his hard handsomeness, the strength and command that stamped his features. I was still staring...and I snapped my gaze away. “Thank you for your faith in me, Commander.”

  “I work with Captain Warwick often. You finished his suit last month. He speaks very highly of your abilities.”

  Pleased heat burned my cheeks. Faith and praise from Commander Axton. It was staggering. I stopped at his usual fitting room and pulled back the heavy latch. Going first into the darkness, I found the cord to activate the sharp white shine of the electric light.

  The scrape and groan of the hinges and lock closing surprised me. Axton had followed me into the small changing room and shut the door behind him. Already his fingers moved to unbutton his greatcoat. “Isham consented when I asked for you.”

  “He...you did...?” My hand stopped at opening the long cupboard that would protect his clothes from the smoke and fumes of the finish. “Thank you.”

  He handed me his greatcoat and gloves before moving on to his suit coat. He had to strip down before putting on the smooth silk inner skin that protected him from harsh metal and kept his body working for his fortnight at the garrison. I folded and hung the items he passed to me. Trying not to stare and failing miserably.

  Axton was a man in his prime, strong and athletic. Manning the orbiting camp, it was essential he be fit - the silk in combination with the suit wouldn’t work on the infirm. But watching his slow and sure disrobing, the promise of skin as he pulled free his cravat pin and tie and unbuttoned his shirt collar, his fingers slipping through buttons to reveal smooth muscle and the rough swirl of hair had my heart racing. Being so close to him, the man had me hard...just as I knew he would.

  I tucked his boots into the bottom of the cupboard, the bend and stretch of my body only serving as a reminder of the hard length of my dick. Silent curses railed against it. I worked with other members of Her Majesty’s 1st Lunar Expeditionary Force, saw them as I saw Commander Axton, stripped down to nothing but their skin. But not one of them had my blood as hot as the man standing before me.

  It’d always been that way. Even from the very first time I laid eyes on him. A spark that ignited under my skin, as molten as any metal. I couldn’t explain it. Didn’t want to. I esteemed and desired him in equal measure. It was an admiration quite unreturned.

  And I prayed for his continued ignorance. It was an honour and a privilege to kit out the men who pushed beyond the Earth and who were stationed in a garrison orbiting high above us. I didn’t want to lose my position.

  “My silk, Marlow.”

  I pushed out a slow breath, feeling the heat in my cheeks and stood to face him. White light shone down over his strong shoulders, shadowing the clean muscles of his torso and the firm length of his legs. He was Grecian in his beauty. I fought not to stare at his dick. Yes, so much more perfect than a simple statue.

  He lifted an eyebrow and a hint of a smile pulled at his mouth. “Or has Isham’s genius made it possible to wear a suit without its inner skin?”

  “No. Sorry, sir.” I pushed the folded silk into his waiting hands and backed away. “I’ll prepare your suit.”

  Holding back a groan, I escaped to the fitting room. The chug and thump of the engine behind the curve of a metal screen said the iron was heating up. A little apprentice was tucked into the corner, already sweating from the blaze of the machine’s firebox. He wiped the grime and sweat from his face and muttered a hasty “Sir” before he picked up his shovel to look busy.

  I nodded - the lad had always worked hard - and now had no excus
e not to turn back to the rest of the room. The intricate pieces of the suit were hooked from the brick ceiling by thick chains, an inanimate statue of black steel and copper. Sharp electric light cut down over its perfect shape, one moulded from the commander’s own body. My master’s suits were objects of true beauty.

  Its helmet sat on the tool bench, next to the glowing soldering iron and the filaments of silver chandarite. The thin strips of metal were worth more than a fistful of diamonds or a room stacked with gold. It was the secret to the Empire’s push into space.

  “Ready, Marlow.”

  Axton stood beside his suit, the thin material of the pale inner skin clinging to his body. The Commander was also a thing of beauty, but I remembered that my job paid very well and I couldn’t gawk at the man all day. As much as I would like.

  “Damn things.” Axton locked his hands, pressing the fine weave of silk between his fingers. “It itches and never fits as I want.”

  “It’s the finest Chinese silk. Specially prepared.”

  “So I’ve robbed the Queen of her underclothes?”

  I smirked and unhooked the solid left boot from the suit, clamping it to the floor. “Even Her Majesty makes a sacrifice for her country.”

  Axton grinned and stepped into the boot. “It’s a sacrifice I could do without. Though,” he flexed his calf muscle, and the silk shimmered, “it does prevent my skin from ribboning.”

  “That it does.” I looked up and failed to stop myself from following the straight line of his shoulders or how the defined muscle of his upper arm was a perfectly delicious curve. Swearing silently, I arranged my tools. It was time to work. Not to find fantasy.

  I rolled the bench to one side of the Commander, preparing myself with my leather apron, gloves and goggles. I worked fast, but beading the solder was tricky and would take time. Mr Isham had constructed the suit from small plates of steel and copper, already soldered from the inside. I had to complete the external solder with chandarite.