Excerpt: Mating Rituals

Mating Rituals

by Sebastian Blade

copyright 2011

All Rights Reserved

"Um," Raphael moaned. "Touch me."

"Again," Tig asked before he could stop himself.

Ten thousand years of human civilization and some things were true on an interstellar freight as they had been in an Armenian winery. Love was everything. Sex was love. No one tells their lovers everything.

"Please," Raphael moaned. He hooked a long leg around Tig's legs, pulling him close. "It'll be alright. We have twenty-two minutes before we have to be at work. Fuck me!"

Raphael had come on board at Nander's Rise. He was tall enough to have spacer blood with blue eyes like earth sky, long blond hair, braided that lay on his shoulder. To Tig, his hair had seemed like starlight and adding his smile and his beautiful eyes, Tig had found sunlight. Raphael's lips looked soft, soft enough that even in that first moment, Tig had wanted to touch them.

Now there had been several things wrong with that first impression. For one thing, Tig was gay. He'd known he was gay as long as he could remember. Having been born on Earth even before the telomere treatments made aging a relic of the past along with hunting bison with sticks, he'd known he was gay a long time. Raphael's pretty face and slender fingers were androgynous enough that Tig had had to look at his ID card to get his gender and species. Raphael's ID said he was male and human. That was where the ambivalence had ended. Every fiber of his being wanted the willowy blond.

He rolled a little on their shared bunk, a leg hooked around Raphael, pinning him close. Four hundred and ninty-two days passed since Tig signed Raphael into the crew of the Morehouse. Having made love three times since they ended their last shift, he wanted him more now than he had that first day. Propped up on one elbow, he traced a finger tip over those soft red lips. "You are insatiable."

"Yes," Raphael purred as he tried to draw Tig's finger between his lips, suck him inside. "Fuck me. Let me suck you. Tell me poetry!"

Tig bit very softly on the edge of Raphael's ear, and whispered, "My rose most fair, with your secret whispers you snare this simple man," Tig groaned, poetry driveling away, the tea leaves of his thoughts all pale compared to Raphael's hand stroking his cock. "What the hell do you do to me, 'El? I can't make up poetry with you touching me like that."

"Do you want me to stop," Raphael asked, an arm slipping under Tig's shoulders, drawing him close. A ship has many parts. Many are made for each other, rocking, pivoting, aligned to each other as intimately as the fusion in the heart of a star.

A sexual humming glowed brighter in Tig as Raphael held him, hardened his cock as he stroked sweet soft flesh, "Fuck no," Tig begged. "It's never been like this before."

Raphael's long fingers slipped into sleep mussed pink and black hair. The pink hair marked him as a Methuselah, a Walker of the Long Path. Only those whose lifespan stretched longer than five centuries were able to claim that title. They were considered wise and lucky. They were particularly prized as crew members on long flight ships. For one thing, they could do almost everything on the ship, or had at least tried at some point in their lives. They were usually emotionally stable and not prone to anger. They usually didn't sleep around below their rank.

"Maybe it's the first time you've been in love." Ralphael gave a push, gentle, but stronger than one would have expected from him. Tig rolled onto his back, sighing contented resignation as his naked lover straddled him.

He ran his hands worshipfully over Raphael's waist, down his thighs. It couldn't be the first time he had been in love. He'd married, raised children. He'd spent forty years on Neek, baring and raising his own child. Raphael squeezed his knees against Tig's waist, scooted forward just a little, so that his cheeks spread and slid along Tig's cock. Still slick with lube from before they fell asleep, he left a caress of we heat over the trapped cock. Tig groaned pitifully, thrusting his hips up, "Whatever the fuck, I've never been in love like this. Don't tease me! I'm an old man!"

"You don't look old," Raphael said before pressing the tip of his tongue to the dip in his up lip. Those blue eyes connected with Tig's golden eyes, reached deep into him, wrapped around his soul and made him a twenty year old again.

Flawless skin, thick black hair streaked with the Methuselah pink, a lean and hard body, he looked like a twenty year old. His cock twitched where it was trapped. He groaned again, goose bumps dancing over him like rebirth and shifted them again, tucking his beautiful Raphael under him. "I love you," he growled.

They tangled together, one of Raphael's legs hooked over his arm. Tig curled tightly over his lover, thick cock sliding into tight heat of Raphael, forgetting many more years of civilization as he became little more than primeval passion and love he couldn't explain. Each stroke in affirmed them again, deep and engulfing, committed longer than this single voyage, Tig promised his love all his being at a deeper level than thought as he played their bodies.

Raphael's voice fluttered, his breath pushed from him with every rejoin of their bodies. His hands caressed clutched at Tig, encouraging, begging, singing soul song with him. Soul song exploded into white and Tig's growl filled their small room, wiped out even primitive thought and there they floated, even if the gravity was still on, they only orbited each other.