T30 Valerian Smokes a Cigar {Titmouse} (MF-android, oral)
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WARNING NOTICE:
The following story is erotic fiction and includes
descriptions of explicit sex. If you are a minor or
if such things may offend you, quit reading now.
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Valerian Smokes a Cigar
by Titmouse
(C)1999, All Rights Reserved
Valerian drained the last of his coffee and set the empty
cup on the small table next to his armchair. "Shem," he said
toward the ceiling, "send in Mia." He selected a cigar from the
humidor on the table, lit it and settled back in the chair.
He had taken only two long drags from the cigar and was
releasing the last as a series of smoke rings when the study door
slid open and a slight, thin figure stepped in. The door hissed
closed.
"Yes, sir?" The wem, a young one of about 18, stood with
her hands clasped in front and her eyes down.
"Good evening, Mia," Valerian said. "How are you tonight?"
He clicked the privacy switch on the arm of his chair, isolating
the den from the rest of the house.
"Just fine, sir," the girl answered, still not looking up.
Her face was vaguely Asian, perhaps Eurasian, framed by long
black hair. Her eyes - scarcely visible from this angle - were
large and dark, with long lashes above high cheekbones. Her
figure was slim, almost boyish, although the close-fitting dress
showed off her small breasts, her trim waist and the modest flare
of her hips. The high-collared, ankle-length dress of jade green
velvet was slit on one side to just below the knee, revealing a
well-formed calf and slippered foot.
"Do you feel like some fun tonight?" Valerian asked.
The wem did not answer for a moment. Her eyes flicked
upward to Valerian's face, then back down.
"Of course, sir," Mia said quickly, as if to make up for
her hesitation. "If you wish."
Valerian smiled around his cigar. "I think I do," he said.
He took the cigar from his mouth and blew out a stream of smoke.
"Get me a brandy, would you?"
Mia turned and walked to the sideboard in small steps
enforced by the long dress. She raised her head as she walked,
revealing a softly rounded chin above an elegant neck. At the
sideboard, she lifted the stopper from a crystal decanter and
poured a generous amount into the snifter next to it. Taking it
in both hands, she carried the tulip-shaped glass across the room
to Valerian, once again lowering her eyes toward the floor. Mia
knelt gracefully at Valerian's feet and presented the snifter,
one hand under the bottom.
As he took the glass from her, Valerian noted with pleasure
the elegance of her every move, the gracefulness with which Mia
presented the glass to his hand, two arching fingers supporting
the base, the liquid in it scarcely moving. When the brandy
sloshed as he took the snifter from her hand, a brief frown at
his own relative clumsiness twitched the corners of his mouth.
He raised the glass, inhaled the fragrance of the amber liquid,
and took a sip. The warmth slid across his tongue, into his
throat, and down into his stomach.
Mia knelt near his knee, eyes down, hands on her thighs.
Valerian looked at her, enjoying her beauty, considering his next
move. He dipped the damp end of the cigar into the brandy, then
put it into his mouth and took a puff.
"Why don't you help me get ready," he suggested. Mia
looked up at him briefly. He nodded reassuringly, and she
lowered her eyes again as she raised up on her knees and reached
toward his waist. Her slim fingers released the knot in the belt
of his dressing gown, draped the belt over the arms of the chair,
and then folded back the gown, revealing his bare chest, plump
stomach and pajama pants.
"But, first, a kiss," Valerian added, putting the cigar in
the ashtray. Mia placed one hand on the arm of the chair and the
other on his thigh as she raised up on her knees and slowly
tilted her face upward. For a fraction of a second, her eyes met
his, then her eyelids slid down to cover them. The tip of her
tongue appeared to moisten her lips, then withdrew as she parted
and extended them slightly to meet his own.
Valerian enjoyed kissing his wem. Mia's lips were silky
soft and warm, tentative but accepting. He slid his tongue
forward, and her lips opened to let him in. Putting a finger
under her chin to tilt Mia's head back, Valerian kissed her
deeply. She met his increased pressure, not pulling away,
welcoming but not pushing forward against his mouth. She made a
sound at the back of her throat that might have been a faint
moan.
"Thank you, Mia," he said as he pulled back, then added as
she hesitated, "Go on."
Valerian settled back into his chair as Mia's warm fingers
opened the snap at the top of his pajamas. He lifted his hips
briefly as she slid the garment down his thighs. He took another
sip of brandy and closed his eyes as he felt the first feathery
touch of her lips. As she nuzzled at his middle, he popped one
eye open to locate his cigar, took a puff and replaced it in the
ashtray. He groaned with pleasure as Mia's wet mouth enveloped
him.
As the wem worked on him, Valerian's thoughts drifted. He
remembered the moment he first saw Mia in the buyer's lounge at
Elegant Companions. She had slipped through the curtains of his
booth wearing a long crimson dress in a style much like the green
one she was wearing now. She had stood, eyes down and hands
clasped before her, just as she had stood near the door to his
study only moments ago. When he had said "Raise your head,
child," she had lifted her eyes to his, and he had seemed to
plunge into the dark pools. He had known instantly that he had
to have her.
Mia's head lifted and lowered, sliding him in and out of
her warm mouth. She moved a hand up and wrapped her fingers
around him. She was not like Wendy, his previous favorite, who
had performed vigorously, greedily, seeming to take as much
pleasure from the act as he did. Mia took her pleasure from
pleasing him. She focused entirely on him. She was worth her
weight in gold, which was more or less what she had cost him.
But well worth it, Valerian thought again, as he had reassured
himself many times.
His head lolled to one side and his half-open eyes drifted
toward the wide chaise longue near the corner. Part of him
wanted to stop Mia, to rise and lead her to it, to strip the
tight dress from her slim, elegant body, and to plunge himself
into her depths. Valerian groaned again. The dominant part of
him decided to stay right where he was.
"That feels so good, pretty one," he whispered. "Go ahead.
Don't hold back. Finish me."
Without letting go, Mia shifted position, moving deeper
between his knees. She took him deeply into her throat, then
pulled back and nursed at him more strongly. Her fingers
tightened around him and slid up and down along his length.
"Ah, god!" Valerian moaned. A wave of pleasure rolled
through him. He felt the tightening, the rising force in his
middle that signaled his impending release. No longer able to
accept Mia's ministrations passively, he began to thrust his hips
forward and back. The slender wem was panting as she took quick
breaths around him. Valerian felt another and stronger wave of
pleasure that washed up and over him, carrying him away. He
exploded in a pleasure only a few notches short of pain, groaning
and making inarticulate sounds.
Mia took the surge of Valerian's ecstasy without flinching,
letting his thrusting hips drive him into her, gulping
convulsively to swallow his fluid. As he collapsed back into the
chair, Mia continued to nurse at him. Even small movements of
her tongue sent electric shocks through him. As Valerian
relaxed, she laid her cheek on his thigh, holding him in her
mouth, keeping him there with a gentle suction.
It was several minutes before Valerian stirred. As always,
he was slightly embarrassed after sex without having the
slightest idea why. Now that the heat, the desire, had faded
into satisfaction, he had awakened to a reality that was base and
animal-like. He was faintly disgusted with himself, especially
his hairy, protruding belly, larger than ever it seemed.
"Thank you, Mia," he said curtly. "You may go now."
Sensing his mood, Mia pulled back from him, planted a light
kiss on his now limp member, and stood up, her eyes again
downcast. Valerian pulled his pajamas up, feeling embarrassed at
his exposure. As she turned to go, he called her name, and Mia
looked back over her shoulder.
"That wasn't much for you, I realize," Valerian said,
somewhat awkwardly. "Perhaps next time."
"Oh, no, sir," Mia said. "You mustn't feel that way. It
is my purpose to serve you. It makes me happy to give you
pleasure. I hope I was... satisfactory?"
Valerian smiled. He was pretty sure Mia knew that she was
much more than satisfactory. It was part of the unspoken game
they played. "Quite satisfactory," he said, and thought he saw a
brief smile of pleasure on Mia's lips before she turned and moved
to the door.
"Good night, sir," she said, making a slight bow. Without
having to look, her hand reached out to touch the door plate. It
swished open, then closed after her, and she was gone. Valerian
realized that he still held the brandy snifter in his left hand
and marveled that he had somehow avoided dumping it onto the
floor in the throes of his climax. He raised it to his lips and
took a large swallow, reveling once again in its taste and
warmth. His picked up his cigar, blew through it to exhaust the
stale smoke inside it, then relit it. He took a deep drag and
sighed it out. His life had never been better than it was now.
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End of 'Valerian Smokes a Cigar' by Titmouse
Story 30
Author's Note:
Originally, I promised 29 stories, but that seemed an awkward
number, so I've added this final one. Although it can stand
alone, it's actually the opening chapter of a longer story that
I've worked on for several years, off and on, about future
relations between humans and androids. It's a topic that has
fascinated me since my teenage enthusiasm for science fiction.
With rare exceptions, however, science fiction at that time
couldn't deal with what seemed to me to be the most obvious and
likely use for artificial humans.
I won't post any more of this story because I hope some day to
turn it into a commercial product. It seems a fitting end to my
series of posts, rounding the number up to 30. I hope you've
enjoyed them. I'll be around, but at present I have no intention
of writing more. That particular itch has been scratched.
---
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