Starstrider

I am now, in the brief period I have left, going to relate to you the story of my life. It is very short, for I was only truly born on the day the Starstrider returned. Before that, I merely lived.

On the day I was born, I was seated in a room, waiting for the government to be done with him, running over my Late English in my head, so I'd be ready to greet him when he walked in. Then the door opened, Starstrider stepped in, and I forgot the entire speech I had prepared.

He wore a silvered jumpsuit that clung to his muscled body like liquid metal. Where it was unzipped partly down his ample chest, he was dark with chest hair. His hair was the black of interstellar space, his eyes the bright blue of blazing Sirius, his nose a Roman legacy he carried with him across alien worlds, his rectangular cheeks tanned dark from other suns. The myriad pictures I had seen had not done him justice. They had captured his masculine regality, but failed to express the man beneath.

It was a man who looked at me with anxiety and relief. "You must be Wilkinson." he said in Late English, extending his hand.

I knew the ritual. I grasped his hand in the old form of greeting called a handshake. "Tepen-3 Wilkinson." I said in the same language, nodding. "I have been assigned to be your guide while you stay here on Earth."

"What's the 'three' in your name for?" he asked.

"It's my rating. You are also assigned a rating of Three with Worldnet."

"Rating? Worldnet?"

I sighed. "I will show you how to integrate with Worldnet. The rating of Three means that everything is open to us, the best places to live, the best food, priority for travel, everything."

"Then why aren't we ones instead of threes?" He seemed amused, as if it were of little consequence.

"Ones and Twos are government officials."

"Oh." He smiled and his hand lifted, as if he was going to touch my face, then he seemed to change his mind, his hand lowered again. "I should change my clothes."

"I brought clothes for you to wear. I was told you would wish to blend into our society as much as you can, Starstrider."

"Right." Starstrider said. "And call me Stephen. That's a silly nickname they've given me. My name is Stephen R. Streider, and I'm a man the same as you. Except...what year is this?" The Starstrider lived at relativistic speeds, I knew, aboard the Vok ship; years passed for us while mere days passed for him.

"2174. You didn't know?"

"They were too busy asking questions to answer any. I am now, um, three hundred and fifty-two years old. I was born in 1822, you know." Starstrider--Stephen--stood before me and casually unzipped his jumpsuit.

I hastily jabbed my thumb at the Worldnet reader and whispered to it, "Lock the door." Then I scooped up the clothing left for the Starstrider, looked at him, and gawked, unable to turn away.

Stephen had been twenty-one when the Vok met him and adopted him, invited him to join them in their search of the surrounding space. Physically, he was now in his early thirties. The hair on his chest was a copious, living mass that danced with his muscles. His stomach was ridged and taut beneath the zipper that hesitated and stopped at the thickening mass of pubic hair beneath his navel. Stephen wore nothing but the all-concealing suit that now was revealing him to me. His shoulders rolled like waves in the deep ocean as he wriggled them free from the suit, swells of muscle with hair for flotsam and a solitary stray mole that rode his shoulder blade like a surfer.

The suit slipped from his body and I followed it down hungrily. Down the massive arms with the biceps and triceps that swirled as he moved, the ribs covered with hair and lines of strength, down the waist and over the briefest of bulges for the slender hips, and--and there it caught on an obstacle that jutted from the front of his groin.

"You--seem to have worn your age well." I gasped out.

Stephen fished out his erect organ and the suit slid down to his ankles, but my eyes no longer followed it. I had fastened on the thick love-muscle he now held in one beefy hand. It was oval, big enough around for two cocks on a more ordinary man, the head distended, red and enraged. He slid his hand slightly and a clear pearl of pre-come glistened on its tip. I forced my attention back to his eyes, which were fastened onto mine. I licked my lips nervously, my heart pounded in my chest.

"Do you know why I ask to be met by a descendent of Jacob Wilkinson every time, Tepen?" He asked.

I shook my head dumbly.

"Because every time, you're just the same. I know that look in your eyes so well. I saw it in Jacob Wilkinson's eyes back in 1840, when we went skinny-dipping on a hot summer day. And in Ethan Wilkinson's eyes in 1928, though it took us a week to act on that look. Jeffrey Wilkinson in 1997, Harold Wilkinson in 2060, and now you, the same Wilkinson face and the same look, a constant over the years, your family and me. That's why I always want to see a Wilkinson. So what are you waiting for, Tepen?"

I had dropped his clothes some time before, though I don't remember it. I nearly tripped over them at my feet as I stumbled forward, to kneel down and take his manhood in my hand.

If only I had dared to, I would have kissed away that transparent, salty globe upon his cockhead, but I remembered my personal safety, wiped it clear with my palm and onto my thigh, and reached for a condom.

Stephen didn't blink at my caution (he had been here in the past at times when these protections had been just as vitally necessary), but he seemed surprised as I pulled out the condom and applied the tube to the slit of his organ.

"What's that?" he asked.

"A condom."

"Last time I saw one, they didn't come in a squirt tube." Stephen chuckled as I pressed the button and a quick odor of plastic wafted to our nostrils. I pulled back the tube and he was left with a single sphere of whitish plastic covering his slit, little bigger than the pre-come it had replaced.

As I waited the ten seconds for it to dry, I explained, "It is a molecular bond. If the seal had not been perfect, it would have fallen away. You are safer than with those big things they used before. Besides," I said (time was up!) and I engulfed his cock. Stephen could complete the sentence in his own mind. Besides, this way, there was no impediment to lovemaking. I could engulf his manhood with no fear for myself and with full range of pleasure for him.

His cock was astonishing. He still wore his foreskin! I had heard of such in advanced biology, but never had I seen one before. I breathed a sigh of lust and tasted that strange piece of flesh in a voyage of exploration. His cockhead peered timidly out of its wreath, blood-red with its dot of condom, and I greeted its reappearance with my kisses.

Stephen groaned and I took courage from his lust and dove onto his cock with all the energy and need in my body. My salivary glands poured their juices onto the hungry, hot prick and I felt its slick power throb and pulsate under my ministrations as I pulled my own cock from beneath my tunic and pounded it.

Stephen threaded his fingers into my hair and I forgot my carefully coiffed creation and let him take possession of me; he fucked my face energetically, both of us in thrall to our desires. His face was closed up tight, eyes squinched shut, face pulled together, as though, if he relaxed for a second, he would lose everything.

His cock became rough, impudently rough; sheathed in my saliva, it thrust down into my throat with each yank he gave my head and buried itself in me; his balls now drawn tightly against his cock were hard stones that collided with my chin; he gave out with audible grunts of animal need, grunts that became louder with each thrust until they turned of a sudden into a roar that was embarrassingly loud, and he shot his load into me, a salty wave of his seed that filled and bulged out the condom, a yielding bubble of white-hot maleness that massaged the back of my tongue and stroked my tonsils. I was caught up in the heat of his orgasm; I groaned and sprayed Stephen's bare legs with my own pearl-colored bouquets of sperm. I could feel the condom swelling still in my mouth, and I carefully nestled its expanding bulk on my tongue as I continued giving him pleasure. Condom plastic can expand to over twenty-five times its size without tearing, but I think Stephen pushed its limits, for his load was filling my mouth like a live thing, as if it had indeed been a century since he had last made love to my Great-great-grandfather Harold.

Stephen's chest was heaving still and I sucked on his drooping, shrinking organ, milked all his seed from him before I let it go. Done at last, I hazarded a look upwards at him, his face flushed with spent passion, his eyes glazed as he looked uncomprehendingly down at me, and there was a tenderness, a rightness about him that I had never seen in any of my few previous lovers.

I carefully disgorged the condom from my mouth and it hung from his spent schlong like a dying flower bud droops on its stalk. I squeezed the condom together near his penis, and said, "Removing the condom will pull away a single layer of your skin. It will not damage you, but this may hurt a little." And with a practiced pull, I yanked the condom from his penis.

"Mph!" was his only comment and I held a sealed pliable bag of his seed that nestled warmly in my palm. I tossed the condom into the trash tube, which hummed and suctioned it away.

Stephen held my face with one hand, as if I were his child. With the other, he ran his fingers through my hair as though to shape it again. His face seemed to drift closer and closer to me as he did this, and I finally dared to reach my face to him, to kiss his lips that welcomed me as an old friend. Love at first sight. I'd always scoffed when reading of such trash. Pure lust, that's all it was, I'd thought.

It wasn't just that. There was more. A feeling of destiny, like I'd waited all my life for this moment. Like the flood of time had poured forth just to wash the two of us together. Not like it was meant to be, it felt more like it had always been and I was only now discovering it.

Then I felt his body stiffen, as if in regret, and I looked at him, puzzled.

"I'm no good for you, Tepen," he told me. "What can I offer you? What have I ever offered? Yet, every trip, I come home to find one of you Wilkinsons waiting, to love and be loved by. It's more than I deserve and less than you're due. What can I offer you but six weeks before I leave and never see you again. Leave me, Tepen. I will explain things to your government."

"Six weeks." I tasted the number. Forty-two days. "That is a very long time, when you think about it. If we work at it, it can be like a lifetime."

"But then I will be gone and you will be alone. And next time it'll be your grandson standing here instead of you."

"But this is my turn," I insisted. "Hold me."

He didn't argue any more; he held me. I laid my head against his massive chest, and I would have continued like that for some time, but Stephen pulled away. "Let me get dressed. want to see what Earth looks like this time."

I led him into the city, and he was amazed, stopped to study everything from the Worldnet terminals to lighting to the transports which passed by. I wondered about it, and asked him at last near the end of our evening meal in our residence, a place Stephen described as "a fancy pants hotel".

His response was simple. "Times change. Tepen, when I was born, none of this existed. None of it. Do you know what my favorite game was, growing up? I took a barrel hoop and short stick, and I rolled the hoop along and ran after it with the stick, guiding it and keeping it going as long as I could."

Stephen talked on, about his first return, and the noisy automobiles that thronged Chicago's streets, and the danger of the machine guns in the hands of the mobsters he had heard about but never seen. Then he returned again, to find technology in full sway and Earth staggering under its load of rising humanity. Returning yet again to find Earth in imminent danger of collapse from the sheer weight of humanity.

"Now I come back and find people seem to have things well organized. Why is there such a big city here in the desert?"

I was puzzled. "Where should you build cities? It was the Technobursars. They decreed that men should only live where little will grow." He looked his question; I thought over my history. "I think you would have heard of them as the Greens."

"The Green Party? Yes. But they were environmentalists."

"They were at first. They sort of--evolved. They seemed to have the answers, and people let them take over. Whole populations were moved, but they saved the world."

"Where are they now?"

I smiled grimly. "Gone now, all of them. They did some other things no one will ever forgive them for."

"What is that?"

"The Technobursars secretly poured into our food and drink chemicals which caused many people to be born sterile. Few children were and are born still. For example, I am the only living member of the descendants of Jacob Wilkinson. The rest have died with no children to replace them." I held my breath, then for the question that might come.

"You'd better get cracking then." Stephen smiled. I need you to have a large family for when I return next time."

I was spared. I grinned with relief. "I'll do my best. But for now, you'll have to make do with me."

I kissed his lips, his cheeks, his neck; I tasted my way down his body as his embrace relaxed, kissed and nibbled at the star-tanned flesh around the nipple. He tasted of male sweat and musk, of desire, and.. more? The taste of skin which has fed on alien food? I took one nipple between my lips and sucked at it like it was offering nourishment for my soul. He lightly scratched and clawed at my back in circular strokes as I did so, and I felt his maleness brushing my thigh. I kissed my way through the black hairs of his chest and stomach; I worshipped with my lips his abs one by one, then dug in the pucker of navel with my tongue as though it held the nectar of the gods.

"Ah, Tepen, what would I do if you weren't here for me?" Stephen moaned. "I live in strangeness. With the Vok, who resemble insects more than humans. Over a year with them to get where we're going, and me the only human among them. Then there are the worlds we explore together, with not a single taste of home in any of them. Even Earth is different every time I come back. If it weren't for your sweet love waiting when I come back, I--I don't know what I'd do. Everything's changed. I don't even have a planet to call my own anymore. Nothing but you Wilkinsons. Don't ever change, please." he pleaded with me.

I smiled. This was the Stephen I loved. Not the bold adventurer who walked the universe and looked about our world with an insatiable curiosity, but this man, the vulnerable lover who doubted, questioned, wondered why fate had both uniquely favored and cursed him. I lowered his body gently onto the bed. "Some things never change, Stephen. I can promise you that."

I squirted the condom onto his cock and dove onto it, this time not taking him down my throat, but lapping it and coating it with a thick layer of my saliva. Stephen was worming his way around and I knew what he was about to do; I quickly grabbed the tube again and dotted my own cock-slit with the condom before his rich, warm lips engulfed me.

I continued to lap at his cock while he slurped noisily on mine but he shifted again, taking his body from me, lifting my legs to rest on his broad, strong back, dominating me even while he sucked my cock.

I gasped out. "A million years from now, men will still be men loving each other like this. Love is the only constant in the universe. Everything else may change, but love is eternal." My breath jerked from me in short pants as my lust grew and washed in waves through my body, rippling my muscles in its sway as a stone cast into a still pond ripples the waters, I shifted without moving, motion without purpose other than that the passion must have physical release. But the body can only release so much; passion grew beyond my body's ability to express and built into a hot pool at my groin. I grabbed Stephen's head, forcing him to suck me faster and faster, my legs shoving at his body to send him deeper, as though I would force my entire self inside of him if I could. He bore this without complaint, seeming to take inspiration from it for he grew more adept, more insistent, and the pleasure was too great for me to bear, I groaned, shouted, lost volume as the pleasure concentrated on my cock, and it erupted, the ultimate release valve of pleasure, I orgasmed violently, with loud shouts that must have penetrated the soundproofing.

Stephen held my cock in his mouth until I was quiescent beneath him, then he released me and roughly tore off the condom, and cast the white bulb into a corner.

Then he grabbed my ankles, keeping them in place on his shoulders as he lifted them higher, his body brushing mine with his copious hairs as he crept up my groin. His face smiled into mine as he gave a final hunch to his knees, and his cock begged entry into me.

I didn't know if I could take his big cock easily, but I knew I wanted to try. I only halted him long enough to reach straining for the bedstand and the bottle of lubricant there, and used it to grease up his schlong before I said, "Now, go ahead. But slowly, please."