Wishing Well: No Place Like Home
Elenya, Lothess 06, 01322
The microshuttle dropped Wish off at the front door of Shardik Villa just as the light of day was receding to aspin. She took in the archaic brick facade and the creeping, century-old vines that covered the building, admiring the testament of history and the artistry of Aaden, the one member of her adopted family whose armor she had not quite penetrated fully. He rarely tended the vines himself, but the maintenance drones that secretly cut, trimmed and teased them into position were all of his programming. She smiled as she looked at the vast wooden doors and instantly felt better than she had for the past week.
She had spent the week with her sisters, but seeing these doors lifted her spirit more than an entire week of sisterly love and debauchery. It was not that she loved her sisters any less. It was that she knew what she needed more than anything else: a home. A place to put down roots. A place that wouldn’t reject her, abandon her, or suddenly disappear. A place to wait out eternity with the ones who loved her and accepted her.
Fealty. She had never experienced that emotion before coming to live here . She understood it now. She wondered if the mere satisfaction of belonging might ever replace lovemaking, and she hoped not, if only because she didn’t want it replaced, only heightened. A sensation she fully expected from her beloved.
She opened the door and crept in, dropping her duffel off her shoulder as she landed in the main hallway. It looked as formal and as intimidating as it was meant. She didn’t care. She was used to it. The deep room faded back to the kitchen, which was much smaller than most visitors anticipated– but then, those visitors had never seen her domain, the institutional kitchen hidden down below. It had become her domain after Ken, Aaden and P’nyssa had disclaimed any interest in it. Ken and Aaden had expressed more interest in her addition to aspin of it, the new wine cellar. Especially since she had partitioned it into three sections, with one completely temperature controlled.
“Welcome home, Wish,” said a voice overhead. “Would you like me to notify the family that you are home? Aaden is not here at the moment, his assignment at the University is keeping him.”
She grinned. “Yes, please.”
Less than twenty seconds passed before she heard feet running along the hallway upstairs, followed by Ken’s enthusiastic shout of “Wish!” as he appeared from the spinward hallway and barreled into her, scooping her up in his arms in one strong move and holding her close. “Welcome home!”
“It’s good to be home,” she cooed. She leaned forward to kiss him, and he returned the kiss with all the warmth she had missed. It was so much better than the young melmustel she had dallied with the night before. It was even better than her sisters, although she amended that thought to consider that it was different and that made the comparison irrelevant. It wasn’t just that this was Ken, it was that this was in Shardik villa.
No, she told herself truthfully. It was him.
Their kisses started to stray into passionate territory better reserved for discretion. Wish heard other footsteps. “Welcome home, Wish,” P’nyssa said.
Ken put her down. Wish straightened her dress carefully and gave P’nyssa a comfortable, wonderful hug, the kind that went straight down to her toes. She could feel P’nyssa’s pleasure, always in reserve, always in the background.
P’nyssa and Wish smiled at each other, sharing their mutual secrets. P’nyssa understood Wish better than Ken did, and Wish understood P’nyssa. It was P’nyssa who had uncovered Wish’s essential nature, the passivity that was at her core, the notion that as long as she was loved she felt that she was in the right place and needed do no more than give back what her loves poured into her. Wish, in turn, had discovered that P’nyssa’s need to be useful drove her harder than any other instinct, and in a world where AIs slowly embraced every task and demonstrated how it could be routinized, P’nyssa was in an ever-more-demanding quest to stay relevant.
“How was the trip?” Ken asked after a decent interval. Ken liked to joke that he needed AIs to give him any social sensibilities at all, but he had learned to give the two fems the time and space they needed to share their respect.
“It was good,” Wish said, flouncing down into one of the many overstuffed chairs that seemed to invisibly walk out whenever someone wanted one. “I spent time with Katrina and Wren, and met the Queen. Oh, and she has a message for you. She’s glad you have a hobby.”
Ken’s brow knitted briefly. “What hobby?”
P’nyssa laughed out loud. She said, “Anni’s got you there.”
“Yeah, well.” He blushed. “Wait, you met Anni?”
“Katrina took me through the touristy parts of New Fahn, and that includes the Palace. While we were there, a guard pulled us aside and asked us if we could please stop by the Queen’s. You don’t say no to that. Do you?”
“No,” Ken said. “No, you don’t.” She could feel his eyes on her, on her slim, brown legs where they were visible to his eyes. She could imagine his hands on her thighs, sliding into the furrow of her pleasure. She smiled hard enough to be leering, and he replied with that one eyebrow and replied leer that so endeared him to her. “How long was it?”
“Only a few minutes. She seemed to be very busy.”
“Yeah, she would be,” he said, his hands flexing briefly. Sometimes, Wish felt like the keeper of the household’s emotions. Whenever Anlestin came up in conversation, Ken’s guilt for not being nearly as busy as the Queen bothered her, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. “What else? What are they doing?”
“Katrina is a journalist, and Wren is in rehearsal right now for a pop group.”
“A pop group. Dave?”
“I’ve received news from Reeds. Wren is currently employed by ‘Flaming Productions,’ an entertainment group that creates small cadres of women with high wideband visual and auditory sexual selectivity markers and crafts them into performance groups. Wren would do quite well there, I predict. It is, as the expression goes, work.”
“Huh,” Ken said. “Is she happy?”
“They both are,” Wish said, thinking back to all the little things that told her that Katrina and Wren were as happy as they could possibly be, their lives fulfilling and satisfying without those ideas being rendered into nonsense by too much AI involvement. She knew how that could go.
Wish sat back and told them as much as she could. She didn’t go into too many details, but she made it clear that yes, she had been herself and had satisfied herself with both of her sisters, as well as a pair of strangers along the way. That made P’nyssa smile and Ken’s eyebrows go up. “Strangers?” he asked, sounding a bit concerned.
“Well, the Captain of the starship I was on, and a guest on the same ship. It was… nice.” She thought for a moment. “Not at all like what I have here, but… I can’t stop being me. I like being me. It was a little piece of what I am that I brought with me on the trip.” She looked at P’nyssa. “I even brought my shirt, but I didn’t wear it.”
P’nyssa nodded understanding. “I’m glad they were good experiences,” she said.
“And I’m glad to be home,” Wish said. “Am I too late for dinner?”
“I’m sure we can put something together for you,” Ken said.
“Why don’t you do that?” P’nyssa said. “The two of you. I’ve got a few things to do.” She held out one tentacle for Wish, who took it and allowed herself to be in P’nyssa’s special, and sometimes eerie, embrace, for as long as she dared. P’nyssa kissed the top of her head. “Enjoy yourselves.”
Wish stepped back, blinking away the brief film of tears that threatened to blur her vision of the beautiful, indigo-furred fem who had given her both life and a kind of validation that not even Ken could deliver. P’nyssa’s lips formed a smiled. She gave Ken a kiss on her way out that made Wish twitch.
Wish’s feelings had swung all the way around to sheer, uncontrollable arousal. She looked at Ken, the way he sat there with his confident and yet somehow goofy smile. The goatee he was wearing these days didn’t compliment his face as much as he had hoped, but she imagined it scratching at the hairless slit between her thighs and felt the trickle down there threaten to become a flood. “Food?” he asked.
“After,” she said, her tongue thick. “I want you now.”
He scooped her up in his arms. He was so much stronger than she was, so much more capable in so many ways. She didn’t envy him. She didn’t want his pressures, which were considerable if not quite what the Queen of llerkin had to survive. The strength of his arms under her shoulders and against her thighs reassured her. “My beautiful slut,” he murmured.
“Take me to bed,” she said.
He carried up stairs to his bedroom and put her down onto the bed. Wish stripped off her own tight-fitting shirt and pants, her heart beating faster with anticipation, as she watched him reveal his pale, well-formed body. His cock rested in that semi-hard position that told her he was ready. He joined her, crawling over her until he was kissing her, his tongue slipping into her mouth.
Wish felt crazed for him. She could feel his cock against her thigh, needed it to move just a little higher. She needed him in her cunt, in her ass.
But with Ken, there are always preliminaries. His mouth devoured her, her chin, her chest, her belly. He slipped down until his breath was hovering over her hairless pussy, and he mouthed the two sides, the flat lips with the nearly hidden slit between them. She opened her thighs, pulling herself open to expose her inner secrets to his kisses. “Love your mouth on me,” she said.
“Mmm,” he agreed. “Love tasting you.” And then his tongue was between her sheets, playing with her almost nonexistent inner lips, sliding up until he found her clit and making her belly clench with insane needs. His mouth, oh his mouth, she sighed as his tongue alternated between flickering on her clitoris and licking at her copious, flowing fluids down at her opening. He even dipped down between her buttocks and played with her asshole, just teasing her. If the two of them had one thing in common other than their love for each other, it was their love of sodomy.
He guided her with his tongue, teasing her, applying slow, firm pressure to her clitoris until her whole body was roaring with desires– to come, to fuck, to have him briefly obliterate her with his desire. She worried, only a little, that she had missed him over the past week more than he had her. His finger crept into her and then were pressing at those places she had never known existed before he had found them. His skills kept her at the sharp point of desire, aching for that final moment, that final stab of pleasure. Then his mouth pressed down on her mound, his beard scratching, his tongue determined, his finger thrusting in and out of her, hitting the roof of her pussy and sending thrills through her, and she screamed as she came.
Once was enough. “Fuck me,” she gasped.
“Fuck me, Ken. I missed you. I need you.”
He covered her body with his, his cock so hard the skin shone with the stretching, and then the head of it was stretching her open, filling her, making her feel whole. He was all the way inside her in one quick thrust of his cock. She parted her legs wider, getting those last few millimeters of him.
He pounded her magnificently. She pounded back, bouncing her ass against the bed with every thrust, tensing her muscles around him as much as she could. “Yes, oh, yes, fuck me. Missed you! Fuck me hard. So good.” She couldn’t stop her mouth. She didn’t think he would want her to.
She came again, this time around his thrusting cocking, his hard, demanding desire. He was smiling at her, with that funny smile, that arrogant “I can make you come,” wondering “Can I make you come?”, loving “Are you all right coming so much?” smile, even as she felt the ravishing joy of their union deep in her body. He thrust harder yet, making her body jerk against the bed, battering at her the way she liked. A still, tiny corner of her mind wondered at her beloved’s pleasure. The tremors of his own climax struck and he cried out, “Wish!”
She imagined she could feel the searing jets of his semen flooding her, but there was too much commotion, too much else going on. His last, lost thrusts ceased and he held still. “Goddess,” he breathed. “That was… fuck!”
“Yeah,” she grinned. “My body loves yours,” she sighed. “It’s chemistry.”
“You think?” He grinned as he flopped down beside her. “Hot again.”
“Mmm,” she said. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Wish,” he sighed, flopping a hand onto her belly, touching her skin and reminding her of what they had just shared. “Will you please stop acting like you’re my servant?”
“It’s what I’m made for,” she said. The heat and evidence of their recent passion was trickling out of her. She was still breathing heavily. “It makes me happy when I can. And it makes me happy when you tell me you’d rather see me take care of myself.”
He turned onto to his side. His mouth brushed her lips briefly, and their tongues struck out for one another. “Mmm,” she sighed.
“So, what did you find while you were out there?” he asked after a few minutes.
“That I loved this house more than anyplace– or anyone– else in the universe. I don’t know if it’s because you’re here, or I adore you because here you are. Does that make sense?”
“A little,” he said. “But you’re not afraid to leave?”
“Not afraid,” she said. “Just don’t know that I’d ever want to for anything more than a visit. And there had better be good reasons.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re home. I’m sure when P’nyssa comes up for air, she’ll be taking advantage of you too.”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. She smiled at him, and then her belly told her of other needs. “I think it’s time for that dinner you promised me.”
He rose, swayed briefly, caught himself. “Coming right up. Welcome home.”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s what it is. I’m home.”