NOTE: This and all preceding and subsequent chapters are copyright 1993 by Milford Ray Slabaugh. All rights reserved. Permission is hereby granted to post this story to other BBS'es, provided it bears this language. Permission to post to Star*Chat denied.
PLANET OF DESIRE
Chapter 7
"The Village"
Wearing only the loincloth that tickled his groin at every step with its strange power, and the boots that were his only remnant of clothing, Ivan walked down the path to the village, feeling the warm sun bathing his body with its clean strength and the wind caressing his body hairs with its wisps of passion. The village was clearly in sight, though it vanished behind hills from time to time; this whole area was under cultivation, and Ivan saw men, bronze-skinned fellows averaging a foot shorter than Ivan, but with lean muscular lines, working in the fields, plowing the fields with oxen in a scene straight from Old Earth herself, the men standing and waving to him, or gesturing for him to join them, or.... Ivan blushed, remembering where he was. No man could work in the fields all day, in the pink mist, without needing release. He was looking at two men, similar enough to be brothers, one with his hands on his knees facing Ivan, the other behind him with his hands on his brother's hips, fucking away furiously at him. The brother being fucked gestured toward Ivan, made slurping motions with his mouth. Ivan blushed to his waist and turned his head away. He wasn't needing sex that badly.
But the pink mist, a huge cloud of it, was heading his way. Ivan looked about quickly, needing a sex partner before the cloud took hold of him.
A young man in his late teens was lounging on a bench near a house at the edge of the trail. Ivan hurried over to him.
The young man looked up. Indian, like those in the fields, his hair was jet black, cut into a pleasing masculine style. His face was a smooth-edged square, his smile as he smiled at Ivan were friendly, his face open and pleasant.
"May I help you, sir?" he asked.
"Yes." Ivan gestured toward the pink cloud.
The young man looked. "Ahh, yes, the pink clouds of need. My name is Singhalasee. You may call me Singh."
"Ivan." Ivan said hurriedly. The pink cloud was almost upon them.
Singh gave a quick tug and his loincloth was off before Ivan. Ivan tore his own roughly from his body, and the pink mist took them.
Ivan kissed Singh hard, his teeth being bruised against that dun-colored face and his tongue tasting those so-white teeth. Singh's tongue jousted with his playfully, and then, his arms around Ivan's neck, jumped and was astraddle Ivan's waist, those warm legs embracing him, the soles of his feet brushing Ivan's ass cheeks.
Singh reached a hand around himself to guide Ivan's long prong into his butt, and Ivan groaned, hunched to shift Singh downwards to impale the lad on his long prong.
"Let's go inside." Singh breathed in his ear.
Ivan agreed, and carried Singh inside the curtained entrance, every step bobbing Singh on his cock, the walk making his ass fuck itself on Ivan's love-sausage.
Inside, it was cooler and Ivan stopped when the curtain closed behind them, his hands grabbed Singh by the buttocks and he fucked Singh without moving a step further.
Singh groaned and got the idea, began to bounce up and down on Ivan, fucking himself in mid-air. Ivan groaned fiercely, and a tongue lapped at his balls, and the added stimulus was all he needed. He shot a huge wad into Singh's ass, felt it spray into the boy, dribble back down his shaft and onto his balls where the hungry tongue lapped at it.
Ivan swayed, kept his footing while Singh flogged his cock hard and fast, and with an animal groan, sprayed Ivan's face and chest with his teenaged load.
The tongue continued to lap at Ivan's balls, pulling them inside its mouth, and doing so pulling Ivan's cock out of Singh's sweet ass. The tongue lapped at the now-free cock, and gulped it down, sucking all the love-juices off of it to manipulate it into a new erection.
Ivan had had a good night's sleep and was fully recovered from his ordeal. His still-young body was able to give the mouth clutching at its cock a full hard schlong to suck on, and the mouth did just that.
Ivan tried to look around Singh's body, could only see a tan shoulder and two tan feet splayed soles-up on the floor. Ivan said, "Get down, boy, I need to rest."
Singh slipped over the third man to his feet, and Ivan looked down on the man sucking his cock.
Older than Singh by a good deal, Ivan saw a man in his thirties, a body formed by a life of farm labor into a hard, muscled form. This man had Singh's hair and body, though older, and Ivan threaded his fingers into the man's hair to hunch at the man.
"Who is he?" he asked Singh. "What's his name?"
Singh shrugged. "He's my father, Dharma." And leaned over to lap at his come splattered on Ivan's chest.
Father and son worked Ivan over, twin tongues caressing his body. Ivan persuaded the horny pair to let him lie on a mattress on the floor, and the men lay on both sides of him, father licking his face while the son tasted his armpit.
Ivan sighed, enjoying the pleasure that comes after the release of tension, but before the body is exhausted with sex. He stroked the heads of the two men, holding onto them possessively, yet giving them liberty to roam over his body with their salivating tongues whereever they would.
The father's cock was jabbing Ivan's thigh, and Ivan leaned to reach for it, grabbed it and jerked it, Dharma hunching at his palm. The son had worked his way to Ivan's cock, and now slurped it down. Ivan moaned; he was nearly ready to come again.
The father shifted away from Ivan, got to his knees and hands, and threw one leg over Ivan's chest, and Ivan found the father's cock lying between his breasts. He reached for it and his hand guided it into his mouth.
The father now took a more dominant role, his hands grabbing Ivan by the hair and forcing all of the cock down Ivan's throat with each stroke. Ivan felt Singh release his cock, and let it flop limp and wet onto his stomach, abandoned.
But Singh was now astraddle of Ivan's waist, Ivan could tell, and he slurped Singh's father's cock hungrily, knowing that the son would impale himself once more.
But the son shifted higher, and Ivan felt Singh's father jerk, grimace, as Singh's legs touched the back of his father's legs, and Singh pushed a dry cock into his father's butt.
Singh fucked his father with slow, deep strokes. The father held Ivan's face onto his cock and each stroke of his son's cock into his ass pushed his cock into Ivan's mouth.
Singh fucked his father faster and faster, and Ivan felt the father's cock give off a tangible heat. He knew the symptom, and slurped at it furiously.
Singh's father silently exploded into his mouth, not a grunt or gurgle escaping him, and Ivan was caught off guard by the copiousness of the flood. Come filled his mouth to capacity, to pour down his throat, to dribble out the corners of his mouth, and a hard-shot load even managed, as Ivan breathed out, to exit his body through one nostril. Ivan felt come inside him, on his chin and upper lip, and his own cock pulsated angrily at being ignored.
Ivan then found the Dharma's crotch and limp cock pushed hard against his face, pinning him down, unable to breath, as Singh blasted a load into his father's ass, pumping furiously, and Ivan felt come dribble down onto his stomach as he struggled to breath somehow.
Singh let go of his father, his father straightened up, and Ivan gasped for breath audibly. His hands reached for Singh, but Singh had clambered off of him. Ivan reached higher, to find the father's buttocks, still slimy with his son's come, and Ivan grabbed Dharma, pulled him down to meet Ivan's cock that squirmed into his ass cheeks, almost with its own volition.
Ivan shifted his grip, and Dharma had no choice under this Russian bear's force. Ivan felt Singh's come lube the way for his cock as he forced his way into Singh's father's ass.
The father bounced on Ivan's cock with an urgent speed, and Ivan lasted only a few moments until he had added his load to Singh's load inside Dharma's ass.
Singh pushed his limp, sticky cock into Ivan's face, and Ivan lapped at it obediently, tasting the salt of come and the more sour taste of anal fluids. And he loved it all, caressing and cleaning the cockhead into rigid tumescence once more.
But Singh, after his cock was slicked up with saliva, pulled his cock away from Ivan's clutching mouth, to raise up Ivan's legs and find a path for his cock into Ivan's butt.
Ivan grabbed both his legs to tuck them against his chest, and Singh pushed in insistently to bury his cock to the hilt.
Ivan looked over at the father, apparently satiated, for he said, "What's your name, sir?"
Ivan nearly laughed with the incongruity of it all, talking with a man while the man's son fucked his ass. But he told of himself and how he came to be there, while Singh sent his cock voracious for unending sex into Ivan's ass.
Ivan shifted around to rest on hands and knees, Singh behind him, holding onto his waist while he fucked Ivan furiously. His father said, "Where has your friend gone? David, that is?"
"I don't know." Ivan said, then groaned when Singh sent the cock in extra hard. "I'll have to find him. Oh, God!" The fucking was arousing him again. He straightened up to rest on his knees, Singh holding onto his chest while he hunched with urgent insistence, near orgasm.
"You might ask the angels." the father said, moving forward onto his elbows, to slurp down Ivan's revigoroated cock.
"Who are the angels?" Ivan asked. "Damn, kid, fuck me harder! Harder!"
"Uh! Uh! Uuuuuhh!" Singh responded, firing a load into Ivan's ass fully as strongly as the first one that had coated Ivan's chest. Ivan felt for a moment that he was being filled to the brim through and through with this kid's come.
Singh released him to crawl away, perhaps for a drink of water or to urinate. Ivan found himself alone in bed with Singh's father.
"Who are the angels?" Ivan said, pulling Dharma forcibly off his cock.
Dharma let go of Ivan's cock to push Ivan onto the bed on his back, and the father raised Ivan's legs to push his own cock into Ivan's ravaged butt. Ivan flogged his cock while Dharma pushed in slowly, forcing a dry cock into his butt lubed only with Singh's come.
His cock buried to the base, Dharma answered. "Live on the mountain. Men with wings, like angels. That's the only angelic thing about them. Ungh!" Dharma pulled his cock out to the head, and shoved it back into Ivan.
"Fuck me, sir. Fuck me!" They had sense now only for their sex.
Sweat covering their bodies, Ivan and Dharma fucked until Dharma shot his load, now noticeably diminished, into Ivan's ass along with his son's, and Ivan had pushed his cock into Dharma's mouth to fire his load there. Finally, fully drained, they lay in each other's arms, panting and heaving.
"The angels are like men, perhaps altered men. We don't know; they were here when we came here. But they are men, no doubt about it. Men with wings. We call them angels, but they are a fierce race, always ready to taunt the 'turtles', which is what they call us. You might want to go to their trading place, which is a small rock outside the village. Stand on it, and wave your hands when you see them. They may help you, or they may not. It is a grave risk, Ivan."
"It is a risk I must take." Ivan thought of David, captured by these men, perhaps now imprisoned atop some high crag. And on this world, what would such imprisonment mean? "I have to rescue my comrade. I'm his commanding officer."
"Such words." Dharma sighed.
Singh was squatting nearby, apparently his chosen position of rest, and Ivan looked at him, saw a grin explode briefly across his face.
"Such words." Dharma repeated. "You sound like that crazy Marine and his troops."
"Marine? Who?"
A large group of them crashed here two years ago. They built a fortress on a peninsula near the ocean, some twenty-five kilometers away. Their commander has gone crazy, but they humor him. They then ask for leave, which he grants, and they come out in groups, to rape and murder us." And Dharma's face was screwed up in anger.
Ivan remembered the Marines while he was a prisoner of the milkstump plant. "I think I've met them."
"Perhaps your friend joined them, too? I couldn't say. But he is not among our people unless he is at the temple in the next village, seeking to become a monk."
"I don't know." Ivan said. What would David have done? "Are you sure he's still alive?"
"We searched all our woods, with the help of the crazy hermit atop the hill over yonder." Dharma pointed back the way Ivan had come.
Ivan grinned. "Why do you call him the crazy hermit?"
"He is sometimes, even most times, quite sane and helpful as a healer. But from time to time, he goes mad, wandering around the jungle. Some say he searches for what he has lost."
"Maybe."
"But we took him to you when my son and I found you on that horrible plant. Didn't you read our warning posted on it?"
Ivan remembered the "Dead End" sign. "I can't read your writing."
"I suppose. The crazy hermit said your friend is not in the jungle, and the hermit knows all these paths. A body does not decay here easily, and no animals will eat anything but...our body fluids, as you have discovered."
"I have, indeed."
"Yes. You were very sick when Singh and I cut you free. You were almost dead."
"Then you two saved my life." Ivan said. "I must repay you somehow."
Dharma smiled, and Singh laughed. "I'm sure we can think of a way. Stay with us tonight, and we'll let you pay your debt of honor."
And he did. The next morning, having had little sleep but sexually quiet, Ivan set off to converse with the angels.
END OF CHAPTER 7