Reverie

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On odd plant on a colony world changes the sexual dynamic.
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Elenriel
Elenriel
104 Followers

"Ok, hon. Ready for me to do the paperwork?" The colonists still called bureaucratic procedure paperwork, even though paper was an all-but-forgotten concept. Wood from Terran trees, grown in biodomes, was still only available for luxury handicrafts. Trees were far too uncommon to think of pulping them for writing surfaces.

Jessie's husband, Dave, already in his all-together, moved out of the angle of the webcam she faced. "All systems go," he replied. Another idiomatic relic from a bygone era.

She faced the secure webcam and started the check-in. "I am Jessica Conrad, recording at..." She paused while her eyes flicked to the clock. "... 21:36 hours on day 59 of 218 After Founding. I am about to voluntarily use my tiana installation, pursuant to license N033685. My husband, Dave, is present as my only attendant, and I prospectively consent to any non-injurious tactile or oral stimulation he sees fit to administer to me. I further specifically consent to penile-vaginal intercourse with him during this interlude. I am setting the timer for two hours, beginning imminently."

This speech was mostly boilerplate in this era, but the protocol had not substantially changed from the early days of the colony. History recorded that the "battle of the sexes" nearly turned into a real war that would have destroyed the human presence on this planet in those first months after the first tiana vines had been discovered.

Jessie stopped recording and turned her head to look at Dave. "I've set two hours as a default, but I can't sleep in tomorrow morning. Whenever you think I'm done to a turn, you can take me out of the oven."

Dave gave a little chuckle in appreciation of the metaphor. Jessie moved to a fair-sized alcove on one side of their bedroom. There was an odd contraption there, adapted to adopt several conformations, each designed to support her body comfortably in one of several positions. Each position would have her facing a transparent window with a movable panel behind it. She tossed her robe back onto the bed, leaving herself nude. She inserted a key into a control display, tapped a PIN into a keypad there, and pressed ENTER. A soft chime came from the bedroom door. Opening it would end the session, just one of the many safety protocols in place.

She turned and struck a sexy pose for her husband. Jessie was pleased to see he was half-hard already. "Are you going to show me a good time?"

"I always do my best," he asserted.

"I know you do." Jessie smiled and straddled the support frame. She settled down onto soft cushions set at odd angles. One figure-eight shaped cushion comfortably supported her chest so that her breasts would dangle down on either side of it. Her thighs, knees, shoulders and arms settled into contours custom molded to her personally. Left completely accessible, of course, was her bottom and vulva. A countdown would be finished soon; she made a few last adjustments for maximum comfort then waited expectantly, facing the window.

When the countdown on the control pad reached zero, the panel slid away, revealing a terrarium behind the sturdy glass. A native plant, the tiana vine, was growing there. Its bulbs glowed with bioluminescence, swirling in patterns of colored light.

Jessie calmly let her gaze settle on one of the bulbs. Conscious thought began to slip way from her. Memory and volition began to fade. Her muscles stiffened into a soft rigor. The full effect took about ten seconds to manifest, and she let it happen. The first time she had faced a bulb and felt the effect take hold, she had had to steel her will and do what she had resolved to do, and not flinch away during the first few seconds when that was still possible. But Jessie was an experienced hand at this now. She kept her eyes on the bulb as the swirling colors quieted her mind.

Jessie drifted in a haze of carefree, thoughtless, euphoria. Human science had not yet figured out how the vine's light show could have this effect, nor why only women were affected by it. Exobiologists knew that the display attracted the pollinators the plant depended on, but those creatures didn't fall into the same all-consuming reverie women experienced.

That was the colonists' name for it: reverie. Trance wouldn't be as good a name for it. For all that it looked like the monomania of hypnosis, women experiencing reverie weren't rendered suggestible.

Subjectively, every few seconds, a burst of pleasure seemed to manifest on a random place somewhere on Jessie's body and spread like a slow wave away from the initial spot. Medical scans had proved that this was purely an in-brain phenomenon, but it was no less real to women in reverie for all that.

At a certain point, Jessie couldn't know how long since estimating the passage of time requires cognition, the pattern of the waves of pleasurable sensation was no longer languorous and random. They came more quickly now, and each one started in her breasts and swirled to all parts of her body from there. Within the reverie, she had no idea why or how the sensation had changed. She could only drift and accept her experience. Once spellbound by a tiana bulb, a woman would stay that way until the line of sight was broken; there were no recorded cases of a woman willfully turning away or closing her eyes long enough to break free. They blinked, reflexively, but that was not nearly long enough for one to emerge from a reverie.

Novelty is a long-recognized aphrodisiac, but unwanted in an attendant. First, a woman in reverie couldn't recognize new from old. Second, she couldn't let her attendant know if something didn't feel good. The best attendant was an old love who knew you intimately...someone you'd talked over exactly how to touch you. Someone who had made love to you so often they had muscle memory of how to please you. Dave played with his wife's nipples, applying just that much squeeze, tugging just that far. Deep in reverie, Jessie was floating in a sea of bliss, feeling both the perfect milking and the surges it generated flowing outwards again and again from the locus of her breasts.

Dave glanced around as he worked his wife's down-hanging udders like a dairy farmer. Her face always looked the same at times like this: a vague smile on her lips, her eyes fixed forwards staring intently. Every so often, she blinked. There was no hint of her inner state to be seen there. But looking the other way, the trickle of girl juice already oozing down her inner thighs seemed to suggest he was doing well.

After a while, Dave left off and shifted his chair behind his wife. He harvested some of her slipperiness on his fingertip. He assayed little circles around and around her anus. He didn't poke inwards; she had no enthusiasm for that. It was the surface tickle that moved her. While he worked, he looked past Jessie's shoulders. The glowing tiana bulbs were just colored lights for him.

Not for the first time, he sighed. Virtually every woman on the planet used tiana booths to some extent, and they all swore by it. Most often, they weren't attended; they just settled back in a lounge chair, set the safety systems for the time they wanted, and let the planet spin without them for a spell. The euphemism was, "taking a mini-vacation." A variation was for the woman to slip a small vibrator in her panties before starting. That was, "a luxury vacation," since it was universally asserted that external stimulation, especially of an erogenous area, synergized with their subjective sensory environment powerfully. To have less than twenty climaxes in an hour's worth of luxury vacation was considered a below average outcome.

But when a woman really wanted to stir her senses, most wanted the hand of a lover attending them. Dave glanced a second time over Jessie's shoulder and the view and his position combined to remind him of a silly incident. The other year, Jessie's long time BFF, Kate, was going through a rough break up and really needed to get away from it all for a time. Temporarily without a partner, she had asked Jessie to attend her, and Dave had assured her he didn't mind. As Jessie told him after, things began well, but then she moved behind Kate, just as Dave was behind Jessie now, facing forward. She'd been insufficiently attentive to her own situation. She'd glanced over Kate's shoulder, missed the signs of encroaching reverie, and stiffened up in place, sitting in the chair. The two of them came out of it together when the timer ran out and the terrarium closed, two of Jessie's fingers still in Kate's twat, her assignment having been left only half done.

Dave decided it was time for the next stage, and moved his attention two inches lower. When it came to her clitoris, his wife liked a light, fast tickle within and aligned with the slot between her labia. Jessie didn't move or moan, but in short order the entrance to her vagina jerked rhythmically as the hollow organ within contracted reflexively in orgasm. Dave murmured out loud, "Oooh, that was stronger than average, if seeing this a thousand times has made me any judge. What do you say, hon?" Of course, there was no reply.

After vouchsafing his wife a few dozen climaxes, Dave pushed the chair back and stood behind her. The versatile support that cradled her was set to the correct height to have her vagina match his penis for comfortable standing intercourse. He eased himself into her. Of course, she was sopping wet and slippery, but caution was always the wisest course when reverie was involved. When they were having ordinary sex, cowgirl style, sometimes Jessie would surprise him by submerging him hard and fast. But on such occasions, it was her choice.

Some couples always waited until after reverie to fuck so that the woman would be moving back. Still, a fair number of women, Jessie included, thought that the pleasure waves evoked by penetration were subjectively different. "Just...sweeter...somehow," was how Jessie had put it. Usually Dave gave her a few minutes, then put himself on hold until she came back to herself. But remembering what his wife had said about not being able to schedule a lie-in in the morning, he went with it. Holding Jessie's bottom, he stroked long and strong within her and made his own release.

Dave eased the two of them apart, then touched the non-emergency stop button. The panel closed, breaking the line of sight to the vine chamber. Jessie began to think and remember. Her body began to unstiffen, and she stretched and disengaged herself from the support frame. She rubbed her skin in a few places where it had contacted the various cushions. Jessie looked at her husband with a impish smile. "What's with this false modesty, eh? 'If I'm any judge...' That first one was extra big, and well you know it!" Women recollected their entire experience of a reverie after it was over; they just couldn't process more than the instant moment while it lasted. She tapped the control pad again, this time with her personal all-clear code. To forget that step would bring a squad of EMTs, and a hefty bill for having called them out needlessly.

Jessie moved forward and pushed her husband down on their bed and straddled him. Though she could tell from the last drops of cum oozing from him that he'd already reached the peak, Jessie didn't think of suggesting sleep yet. The wisdom passed down from mothers to daughters was that after-care of one's attendant should not be skipped unless they really, truly insisted that they didn't feel the need for it on that occasion. Jessie believed in the guideline. "How would I feel," she sometimes thought, "laboring over an unresponsive body for the better part of an hour, and then have that person just say good night?" She massaged his arms and chest, lightly buffeted his face with her breasts, and dragged her long black hair across his body. Most important of all, she murmured her gratitude into his ears. "You're so good to me. I'm still aglow from all the things you did." She nuzzled his cheek. "Thank you, love."

After a while, by unspoken acclamation, they arranged themselves for bed. Dave was asleep first, but in the last few moments before she faded, Jessie remembered her history lessons. The women of the first generation colonists, who had lived part of their lives on Earth, were terrified when tiana vines were first discovered. In their minds, the bulbs were the ultimate rape drug and they were on the verge of a dark age if they didn't act decisively. Draconian laws were passed, elaborate precautions were put in place, and civil war between the genders was narrowly averted. But interestingly, they turned out to be almost unnecessary.

Back on Earth, the records related, sex had been considered mostly "for men," and women there were said to have commoditized that dynamic to a greater or lesser extent. In the colony, sex become mostly "for women," since reverie expanded their erotic capacity and it was men who were asked to spend their attention to make their mate's experience all it could be. The phenomenon reversed the social dynamic, and historians asserted that reversal produced a result the home planet hadn't achieved. Jessie stroked her husband's arm affectionately, draped across her belly has he spooned her. It seemed a man would do a lot for a woman, just in return for knowing it was appreciated.

Elenriel
Elenriel
104 Followers
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