Man on Top Pt. 02

Isis leaned forward and started to speak. Then she gazed about conspiratorially. "Is he really yours?"

He closed his eyes and nodded. "My son, yes. I think so."

Isis closed her eyes. Her face was set with fierce determination. It set her features afire with stunning color.

"Our government has done this to us. We elected representatives to look after our best interests, to fight for the betterment of our society. Once in office, what is the first thing they asked us? How much are your interests worth to you?

"What follows is a history increasingly besmirched by corruption, greed, nepotism and self-service. To make a priority of one's cause, it's no longer a question of what's the right thing to do, but a solicitation that demands to know who can throw the most money around.

"I stood in ballrooms where men and women—the real power—drank to the end of our race because they had grown so fat off control and manipulation, they could not recognize a face whose nose had been cut off simply to spite it.

"The Authority is the worst of them all. They broke our backs to prove they could, and then complained when we could no longer work. They poisoned our water, our food and our air to assert control over every facet of life, all the while charging a premium to treat us—not heal, mind you. And now, downtrodden, infertile and incapable of delivering to their system the next generation of workers who do as they are told and consumers who buy what is placed beneath their noses, the Authority has snipped off its sniffer for the last time.

"Imagine this: hold the key to the world's reproductive apparatus and you hold a power the likes of which, in the right hands, could forge a new world order. Start again, empowering a new generation that would possess the strength and humility to usher in a fresh way of doing things. It could mean a resurrection for our very planet.

"What I propose is a new community, built by the pure of heart—those who covet neither power nor the machinery of destruction needed to protect it."

He smiled at her. "And where is this utopia?"

"It won't be a utopia. It'll be right here. "

"Sounds great," he said with a chuckle. "Where do we start?"

"With you."

He gaped at her. "Huh?"

"I still have contacts that number in the thousands from my time serving as assistant director of the National Women's Organization. If I learned anything with the NWO, it's that people long ago grew weary of being told how to live. I sincerely believe that with a little realignment of perspective I could get any number of these women to help us sow the seeds of a new and improved future. Isn't that better than no future at all?"

"Of course," he replied. "But...what exactly is it that you're proposing?"

"Do I need to spell it out?"

"I think you do."

"In five years or less, your son will enter puberty. The Authority has him, and aside from you—hiding here—he's their only shot at saving their own sadistic vision of the future. What they will do to him to fulfill their aims is not even worth thinking about. What we have to do is act before they've had a chance. Save your son, save the world."

He clenched his fists. "But you know if I so much as pop up on their radar for a moment, it's only a matter of time before they've got me."

"There's a little something on a private airstrip in the woods about two hours from here that begs to differ. Not to mention, a half million credits burning a hole in my pocket."

He sat there a long moment, head cocked to the side. "I just don't know if I can do this. I've spent all this time learning how to keep out of sight. Now, you're asking me to waggle my willy in plain sight."

"If you think I'm not prepared to take every precaution, you don't know me at all."

"I don't know you," he said flatly.

"Listen," said Isis. "Think of your son."

"You think I'm not?!" he snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that. What I mean to say is: do you really have a choice?"

"Well, when you put it that way."

She sighed. "I'm going to make a plan. If I can blow your mind, say you'll give it a shot."

"I don't know, Isis. Has it occurred to you that I might just be a coward?"

"Not even for a second."

**

He stood under the water, looking up at the strange little heating device. It was truly miraculous. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd had a shower in water that wasn't freezing. Before his counterfeit membership at the parks and recreation center was taken away, he'd enjoyed them all the time. But that had been four years ago. For so long, it was been sponge baths and dips in the creek. This was a blessing.

Isis entered unnoticed. The white t-shirt she wore was several sizes too big and hung down to her thighs. When she stepped into the spill off from his shower, the shirt soaked through and stuck to her skin. He opened his eyes to see her standing there, nipples and modest tits outlined marvelously beneath the shirt. If the intention was to turn him on, it worked in seconds flat. He saw her look down at his cock, which rose like a tired arm slowly waving at her.

"Mind if I clear your head?"

"If this is what you meant by blowing my mind—"

But before he could finish, she'd dropped to her knees. Here was a woman who, for all her effortless demeanor which said she was not interested in him, could take his cock in her hand so casually and...

He watched as she took the head into her mouth, and shivered as the shaft disappeared inch by inch until her lips made blissful contact with his pelvis. He felt her tongue loll around his cock, and wanted desperately to throw his head back, but for the view. Isis looked up at him, her large brown eyes sharp and unwavering.

He saw her reach for his hand and guide it to the back of her head. It reminded him of an old memory, long buried. Applying pressure before bobbing gently on his impaled cock, she seemed to be giving him permission to gently fuck her face. Isis then placed her hands around either side of his butt. He pulled back a little, savoring the slippery retraction from her mouth. She tightened the hole of her mouth, so that when he pushed forward into her face, the pressure was phenomenal.

Having gotten into a rhythm after a while, he closed his eyes, and could envision himself bending Isis over the sink, pumping her pussy from behind. Her mouth felt sensational and after a few more thrusts, he was ready.

Looking down at her, he nodded. Isis withdrew, and stood before him. He jacked his cock, and she leaned against him so that the tip of his cock made contact with her skin. It was nearly enough.

He jacked for a while longer, then said, "Sorry. It's hard to do it standing up."

Isis, her eyes never leaving his, took his cock away from him. Jerking slowly and deliberately, her own breath husky and thick, Isis stepped forward a bit so the head of his cock bumped at, then nestled between her pussy lips.

"Is this close enough?" she whispered.

He nodded, feeling the head of his cock enveloped in warmth. His balls lunged and he instinctively batted her hand away, leaned back and jerked madly. The tip was pressed right against her slit when the first shot of fertile seed sprayed out and coated her bud. Isis held her hand beneath the onslaught, catching his sperm as it slid with the shower's moisture off the hood of her pussy.

"It's a lot," she remarked, breathlessly.

He could not hear her, teeth gritted, still working through the wonderfully intimate moment which had passed between them and wiped his mind clean of thought.

At last, he finished and staggered back a step. Isis lifted the palm of her hand and examined the copious white seed that filled her palm. "So, there is life. One half of the human genetic code, and maybe the last in the world." She held it under the shower's stream, and together they watched it dissipate.

To be Continued ...