Hartan Expanding Ch. 04

"I'm not sure how many guys she's interacted with while naked."

Maria laughed again and said, "I certainly understand..." She knelt in front of the bench and took my cock in her hand and started licking up the sides, then took it in her mouth, soft as it was, and pulled it up with some suction. Soon enough, I was hard, and I noticed her other hand was going fast in her crotch.

I liked that -- she was ready for me, and I wanted her back, too.

She said, "Get up now? Can I have it doggie?"

"Sure!" I was enthusiastic, and jumped up.

She leaned with one knee on the bench and one leg on the floor, bent over and waiting.

I came up behind her and teased once or twice, then pushed into her. She clenched on me, which made pushing in harder, but gave me a bunch more feeling. Setting up a rhythm, I thrust in, pulled out, thrust, pull, in, out, watching the ripple on her butt as I started to impact her more.

Bang!-ripple...

Bang!-ripple...

Bang!-ripple...

Her leg being up, I reached under it and ran my fingers around her clit, circular motions, then down to touch my cock, then up and around, lightly then medium, then making my fingers a V I went on either side of my cock, then back up and around in circles over her clit again.

Grunting and moaning, "Oohhhh.... OOoooo..... Yeahhhhh... Oohhhhh.... Fuuuuck, yeah,... Oh, fuck me... ram that cock in.... yeah...." Her talking dirty was really nice, I liked that, and kept going with my fingers. Looking under, I saw her boobs swinging, getting jarred by the impact from my hips hitting hers.

I decided if she could make noise, I could, too, so I started letting some of my tension out as words, "ooh! Fuck, this is sexy. I love.... Ramming into you.... Your cunt is so soft! Soooo hot! Oh.... Fuuck, I'm fucking you, my cock is in you, I'm stroking in, it's so good that way... Fuuuuuck...yahhhh...."

Maria seemed to like my talking, and she gave me instructions on my hand motions, which I complied with. Pretty soon, she was coming, "OooOOOOOO! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK AAAAHHHH!!! AAAAHHHH!!! AAAAHHHH!!! AAAAHHHH!!! OhhhhhhAAAAAAAA!!! YES! Fuck my cunt!!!! Ahhhhhahhahahhahah!!!!!!!!"

As she came, her clenching started pushing me, keeping me from going in as quickly; it was really seriously strong. She came down from her orgasm, and kept on pushing back against me, though after another couple of minutes it was too much for me, and I came, too, pulling myself into her, slamming my cock in and holding it, crying out, "Aahhh!!!!!!! Aahhhh!!!!!! Yahhhhhhhhhh!!! Ahhhhh!!!!!"

Slowly, I came down, and started jerking, mini-thrusts again, until it was too much and I pulled out. I slapped Maria's butt playfully. "That was fabs. Amazing."

I sat down, and she moved over and sat down next to me, leaning, and holding me around the neck. I leaned back, and in what might almost have been a hug, tried to hug back, but only succeeded in cupping her boob instead of grasping my other hand under her far armpit. I chuckled, "I was trying to hug you. It didn't quite work as a hug, but I like the result anyway."

She laughed with me as we panted slower and returned to earth.

Cleaning up using the sink, again, was easy-peasy for me, and even Maria could step over and use the water to splash herself. We got dressed in time for Maria to dash off, and I walked slower, getting down to my physics class.

== Chapter: Road Trip ==

In cross country, we decided (with a lot of hinting) that we really wanted to see where the ships were going. One of the guys, Daniel, said he lived near Morrison and said we just HAD to go up Green mountain again. He said there were 30 story tall buildings now near Chatfield Lake. Of course, taking pictures would be illegal, but he said perhaps we might get 'some fresh air' along with 'pleasant panoramic scenery' if we randomly might happen to randomly choose to randomly run near Green Mountain today and randomly look south.

We all laughed and immediately agreed that, honestly, the hill workout of going up Green Mountain was the one and only thing that would exactly fit the sort of workout coach wanted us to do.

We'd run there before, only a couple of days before, with full backpacks, but we didn't get to the top, and we were suffering from the weights too much to look even a bit sideways. Of course, it was dark out at 10 pm, but the paths up the mountain were well-lit, as were the streets, so we weren't exactly going off-roading too badly.

The 4-mile uphill section we took our time with (downhills are the muscle killers). At the top, at a scenic-overlook bench, we paused and stretched -- you know... Randomly!

(All during the run, we kept commenting on what a nice random rock that was, or how the random look to that random tree inspired a random emotion, etc. It was a little funny, then it got old, then we stopped, then we started again and it was even funnier than before.)

Below us and all around, the lights of Denver stretched out, filling our vision with blinking colors. Some of those colors blinked in odd ways because they were the running lights and landing lights of a procession of hundreds of ships flying over us, carrying materials towards Chatfield. Sure enough, we could see, south of the reservoir was Chatfield Lake, and on the other side of that, a complex of buildings that had stood only wide and scattered was now joined and significantly taller. Ships swooped in, set down their payloads, and we could see a lot of foaming yellow near the offload areas. We couldn't see from where we were really well, but it looked like the whole area was abuzz with activity.

I thought that might be it, seeing some things in the distance, but Jim said to me, "Hey, try these on." They were his odd-looking sunglasses. Sunglasses? At night? I shrugged and put them on. They were binoculars (!!) that looked just like sunglasses. I was startled, but he said, "Shhtt. Shut up. 30 seconds."

I shut up and scanned quickly, picking up as many details as I could. I found by shaking my head very slightly up- or downward it zoomed in and out, so I looked for a locus of action.

The operation was vast and fast-moving.

The entire job site was covered with a huge number of GP ('general purpose' humanoid but bigger) robots, probably GP6's or even the new GP7's. The 6's were over 3 meters tall and the 7's were 12 meters tall and seriously wide, like a dump truck. All the robot types were super-strong, it was freaky to watch them just bend and lift I-beams or train-wheel barbells.

Mostly the GP's were good for pre programmed tasks like 'move all this stuff over there', that kind of thing. They could weld or do any number of specific tasks, but they had to be pretty simple tasks with complete instructions for 'get these materials from here, do this, put result there' stuff. We had a GP6 in Robotics class that we practiced with, and sometimes we got to play games where we had computer simulations of them building tower-defense forts.

Programming a GP6 (past our trivial games) was definitely a skillset and turning it into a game was both super-fun and great prep if we ever got a chance to use one in real life.

Looking down the roads coming in, every single road inbound and outbound around that area was jam-packed with trucks. The backup went all the way up I-70 both west and east, including route 8, or 470, or by side-streets, all headed for Chatfield, or away, empty. The amount of material going in was mind-blowing.

The roads themselves were odd. Lights were going along parallel to the roads but blinking, and I figured out they were making other, parallel roads, expanding everything sideways to carry 10x the traffic (or whatever, how was I to know, it was impressive). Even with not enough housing, that probably meant moving people out and ripping down every home, townhouse, apartment building, mini-mall, everything, to make space for the roads.

It had to be worth it, to get that installation up to full speed, the amount of crap moving around had to be making seriously useful stuff to be that big.

On the building site were a set of maybe 5 rows of half-finished building-sized cubes, 10 to a row. It looked like they were all girders, with no exterior wall, and varying amounts of inner-workings. As I looked closer, I saw each one was a 4 or 5 story building. But, oddly, each had four lifting ships hooked to the top corners. Together, they were either raising or lowering the entire building-sized framework-structure they were attached to.

My time was up, and I handed the glasses back to Jim, who passed them off to the next person. Everyone got 30 seconds, while the others stretched and waited for the rest of the team to arrive, which we sort of knew-and-didn't-know wasn't happening. It was an excuse to hang out up there. Making sign language, I pointed to my eyes, then their eyes, then made like a zipper on my mouth and a flat-hand-swiping 'no' signal. We all got the message. Some of us carried our devices with us. We didn't want a spare word getting picked up and sent somewhere.

As for myself, my mind was working fast. What were they building? More ships? A robot factory? Something else?

Those questions, in part, were answered. One of the guys, handing off the glasses to someone who hadn't seen, turned to us and said, "Hey." We turned around to face him. He bent down to tie his shoe, made 4 holes in the dirt, and made a lifting sign. We looked over. Sure enough, the 4 ships were in formation, lifting into the sky, straight up.

That resolved that question. It was making office buildings in the sky. Or, something like that. Some kind of buildings. Living spaces, it seemed, or perhaps a giant spaceship or a space colony.

Running downhill by the lighted path was easier on the lungs but harder on the legs. My brain, however, was going a mile a minute, analyzing what I'd seen from an engineer's viewpoint.

That was one of the best workouts I'd had in a long time.

Sure, running hills wasn't fun - but That Eye Candy, big equipment moving that fast?!?

It gave me hope.

After a locker-room shower and a cafeteria dinner, Maria, Lynn, and I did an assigned exercise in conflict resolution. The directions were pedantic and frankly stupid, overly-optimistic views of how to deal with disputes with plural handlers.

Basically, as a guy, I was supposed to mostly stay out of them since taking sides would count against me, and I'd likely miss a bunch of invisible subtle stuff anyway. Of course, I was still encouraged to braindump-my-feelings-often, even in the middle of disputes, but preferably to a less-involved person. I was quite dubious that it would work if there was a personality conflict.

Happily, after that was a respite with Lynn in the warehoused containers, larger, with funny lounge chairs. Lynn was all business, but when I say business, she wanted a quickie and she wanted it Now. I got to the room first but only by a minute or so, so we washed up together and headed for the couch. Lynn wanted to spritz it first with steam since she wasn't totally sure everyone before us did so very well. Sitting down, it felt like the steam had heated the plastic and stainless nicely, a side benefit vs. the previously cold steel.

Even more nicely, she had me scoot down so I was lying head downward, then she threw a leg over me and we were in a 69. Her pussy was already wet and ready, but I got her even more worked up before she turned around.

She had me scoot up so she could ride me cowboy!

The couch was turning out to be the best sex bed ever - I was seriously impressed. As she rode me, my mind wandered to how it was better than a mattress, but having one in the house would be a bit of a giveaway. Plus, if you had it in the front room, it might be kind of tough to get privacy, especially with 23 people. That made me think of who else in the house might use it, which flashed an image of my mom and dad doing what I was doing.

"Ohhh! EWwww!" I said, quietly, suddenly a bit disgusted. Lynn wasn't watching me, but when I said that she looked down and saw the passing flash of disgust on my face.

"What?"

I could tell I was in trouble, so I had to explain the whole thing, at which point, Lynn, not knowing my parents really well, starting humping again, slowly, and said, "So... What... If your parents... Do Have... sex on one? Everybody needs to get some, sometime!"

"Just ... talk to me later. I'm... Oh, god."

She laughed, "Feel me. Just think about me. I'm the one here. You're inside of me, I'm riding YOU. Your cock is here. Feel that... Feel me stroking you. Feel..."

I felt her clench internally even stronger than she had before. When she mounted me, she was tight normally, but she was even tighter when she humped on me, so strong it was almost hard to push into her.

"...my clenching on you... Holding you tight... So, tight!"

Definitely feeling that, my hands rose to her breasts and cupped and groped them, pinching her nipples gently, but mostly just feeling her soft flesh under my hands. Squishy and firm at the same time, they were attached to the vivacious bouncing Lynn. My cock went up into her, but the position didn't allow me to push up very well with my hips.

Riding faster and faster, and a circular hand motion that kept bumping right above my dick, she started coming, wailing passionately and shaking her head from side to side. As I was learning she normally did, her voice went up into an ultra-high pitched vibratory "Ugh!Ugh!Ugh!" sounds before dropping to almost a bass grunt.

Her orgasm clenched down on me in an internal grasping flutter, and I, too, started coming. Pushing up, my clenching balls shot into her, spurting, coming, my grunts matching the echoes of hers. Triumphant, joy overwhelming, I came, her cunt still rising and falling on my cock, her muscles still clenching as she also came on me.

Gradually, she slowed down; it was almost too much for me, being hypersensitive from just coming, any movement she made filled up my world with raw sensation. I couldn't do much but gurgle at her and moan for a bit, staring at her face. Her brows were as desperately furrowed as mine, almost like she was in agonizing pain except for the silly open-mouthed grin that went with it.

Settling down against me, chest on chest, she relaxed and hung her arms off the side, the back of her head against my neck. Inert, we just lay there breathing for a couple of minutes.

She lifted up a little, turned and kissed me on the cheek softly. She said, answering my earlier comment about parents having sex, "I don't know if my parents are alive. I doubt it, from what the nuns told me. But, if they had moments like this when they were alive, how could I begrudge them that? What kind of person would I be?"

I thought about that, applied to my parents. I was sure they had sex, it'd been so long since I'd seen them together at the same time it was hard to imagine. Dad was always gone now. Mom had let her master bedroom get crowded with full bunkbeds, so there wasn't much place to sleep there anyway. Feeling what I felt, though, a bliss that made everything seem okay, it was a lot harder to begrudge them the right to make love and have feelings like this. Very weird to think of them doing it, but, yes, okay with me.

As we got up, I tried to say that it was okay with me, I guessed, but Lynn cut me off with a smiling, "They don't need your permission. They've been married a long time."

She had a point.

We cleaned up and dressed, then spritzed the room according to the directions. As we walked down the stairs, I was going to tell her about what we'd seen from Green Mountain, but it just wasn't the right time, and definitely not private enough.

== Chapter: And Then, Everything Changed ==

Meeting up with Lynn on the way home, we got an alert-tone on our devices, at the same time. Some other people walking in front of us had their devices go off at the same time. We stopped to read them; no one ignores an official-tone alert sound from their device, ever.

This one was verbal as well as text.

No one misses the verbal ones, either. If you only knew a non-English language, your device announced in your native tongue. It knew.

They reserved these official things for bad stuff, usually.

Everyone's sense of foreboding went to high gear.

Ours said, "ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ATTENTION. THIS MESSAGE IS FROM CENTRAL HARTAN COMMAND. Report immediately to your morning bus stop."

Whut?

"Do NOT go home first. If you are at home, IMMEDIATELY, DRESS, school uniforms. This message only applies to the person who owns this device. DRESS and LEAVE immediately, with the normal things you have for school. Go to your Morning bus stop. Do NOT delay. Proceed immediately in school dress uniforms. Bring your device and book bag. Be Fully dressed but if you are not, proceed to the bus stop anyway."

The message repeated, twice, and gave some more instructions to be dressed and at the bus stop with no possibility of other ideas or paths or bringing extra stuff.

They definitely didn't want us to miss it.

We hadn't taken the bus in a long time, we were close enough that walking was simpler. When we were little the stop was 3 blocks from my house. There was an address in the message, but I knew where it was anyway.

We all looked at each other.

Shit.

This was happening too Fucking FAST!!

I knew what this meant. At least, I thought I knew.

We were being Drafted.

Did we have a choice?

No.

Really - we did have a choice. We could walk off, go somewhere else, try to disappear into the wider world and hope our lives would be better. Instead? Drafted.

Would that be better?

Practically, it was impossible to disappear. Retinal scans made identity an easily found thing, and too much in the modern world depended on retscan to get in and out of places, or to get food, whatever.

Disappearing was impossible, except maybe to hide in the woods - as if that worked. People tried it. There were drones that scanned for human heat signatures, evading those wouldn't last long.

So... I had to go. We all had to go.

Was the goal of this to scoop us up as troops? Would we be deployed somewhere at a moment's notice, sent to staff a military post somewhere underground?

Did that make sense?

What the hell!?!?!?!?!?

I took a breath.

There are times in life when you don't get options, where (like the swim-activity) you have to stand there and take it, know people are looking at you, be on the spot without a choice.

Still, everyone else was there - it wasn't any more embarrassing to me than anyone else, probably, and I did get over it.

This was a time - no choices. Do this.

I wasn't going to get to say goodbye to ANYONE! All the little ones in the basement (or running amuck in the yard), I'd ... not see again?!? My mother? My dad?!? Anika? Everyone?

They would have one thing to say to me, for Damn Sure and twice on sundays - something like, "Get on the Fucking Bus and get the hell out of Dodge!"

The only path to orbit, offworld, led by way of that bus.

If I even tried to avoid things, temporarily, refusing an order from Central Hartan Command? I'd be fucktoast, screwed twelve ways, good as deceased. Even if I could manage to almost explain it later, I'd never be allowed near anything important, ever again.

All our work, our hard work to conform and jump through their hoops and train and belong to a collective effort that achieved? We HAD to be on that bus.

And yet, part of me didn't want to.

Part of me wanted to run.

There are times, in life, where a stark contrast comes.

The time comes to a point - the start of a race, lining up and waiting for the pistol crack to burst out and Do That Thing. The point - the start of a test, waiting for an important qualification run on some thing you're doing like welding in front of the instructor to be evaluated, or being called on to stand up in class and recite something.