Dear Abby (9 page)

And is, if Abby admits it to herself, is sort
of part of the thrill. She can ask, but her lover will still do exactly as she
wants.

"Don't kill me," Abby says. It's
perhaps a bit redundant, a bit moot, to request that when her goddess has
already said that she wants Abby happy and alive;
needs
her to be so.
But, Abby feels that she should be clear.

Ixazaluoh
doesn't laugh at
her, doesn't try to deny, doesn't get defensive or promise she would never harm
her lover. She just nods solemnly and waits silently for Abby to make her
second request.

"Don't hurt me," Abby says. She
means in sex — she meant it when she said she's not into pain-play —but it
occurs to her as soon as she says it that it is adequately applicable for the
rest of her life, too.

Ixazaluoh
nods.

Abby chews on her bottom lip, thinking for a
long, long moment. She only has one request left, and it has to be good, has to
be meaningful and cover all the rest of the things that she wants to beg for,
the kindness and the charity and the goodwill that she wants her mistress to
hold for her. If she must be a slave, she wants to be a willing, happy one.

"Communicate," Abby hits upon
finally. "If I've done something that displeases you, or you want me to do
something, or do something differently, or not do something at all... if you
want me to change something, if you want to discipline me..." she swallows
hard but pushes on, terror roiling up under her sternum, fear that she is being
insolent, that she will be punished for such a demand, "then please,
please,
talk
to me. Tell me so. Tell me how, and why, and I'll do my
best. I really will. I'll try."

Ixazaluoh
smiles.
The corners of her mouth spread slowly; Abby gets the sense that
Ixazaluoh
is impressed.

"I agree,"
Ixazaluoh
says, and her tone is deep and formal.

Relief washes through Abby, clear and
refreshing like cool water. "Thank you."

Ixazaluoh
inclines her head
briefly in acknowledgement of the thanks, and then gestures to the sky, just
barely visible through the canopy. "And now..."

The moon breaks through the clouds and for a
moment the whole clearing is flooded with clear, soft light. A statue becomes
visible at the edge of the scrub.

"Who is he?" Abby asks, staring up
at the half-ruined idol.

"
Xaman
Ek
,"
Ixazaluoh
says.
"The eldest of us here.
He was one of the gods who
helped to build your people. They made you of corn and water and breath. He is
the god of travelers and merchants."

Abby looks around.
There are other
stone shapes huddled in the shadows of the grove, but they are not highlighted
by the seemingly conveniently focussed shaft of moonlight. "Why are we
specifically here?"

"You are a tourist. He made you, so he
must give his consent for me to have you."

Abby bristles. "I'm not a thing,"
she says, even though she knows to
Ixazaluoh's
eyes,
she sort of is.

Ixazaluoh
kisses her cheek
gently. "
Relax,
my own. It's a formality only.
And you'll like it, I think."

"What's he
gotta
do?"

"We're going to fuck you,"
Ixazaluoh
says, pleased and soft.

Abby's heart leaps up into the back of her
throat. Her nipples get so hard, so fast, it actually
hurts
.
"Both of you?
Together?
Here?"

"Unless you
object?"

"No!" Abby blurts.
"Nope, not at all!"

The moon slips back behind the clouds. There
is a sound like a gust of wind, a breath so deep and long it's like the world
is exhaling. Deadfall rustles. Abby thinks for a moment that it might be some
great beast in the jungle, a cat hungry for her flesh. Then a man steps out of
the shadow and into the dull wash-water light of the grove.

A beast, yes, and
hungry for her flesh.
But not like she thought.

The idol has become a man. He is tall, and dark
skinned, glowing red and gold with health. This abdomen, his arms, his legs,
they all look as if they are still carved from stone, only flesh and blood and
like they'd be heaven to rub up against. Like, a lot. His hair is cropped
short; it is black, and so is his beard. Another trail of hair spreads like a
lover's palms across his firm pectorals and slides down his stomach, skirts his
belly button and down to his... oh.

He is naked. He is...
very
naked.

"Hello, Abby," he says, and his
voice is like velvet, like the rumble of thunder, like a panther purring. He
seems just a bit too tall, a bit too broad,
a
bit too
much. He is larger than life, literally, and it should scare her, that this man
is going to cover her, push inside her, but it doesn’t.

Ixazaluoh
has asked this of
her, and
Ixazaluoh
loves her.
Ixazaluoh
doesn't want her hurt. So this man, this god, he will not hurt her.

Abby's skin pebbles and though his cock is
hidden in the shadow of his body, in the soft thatch of dark hair, all she can
think is
yes please.
"H-Hi," she manages to say. She thinks
she should say something else, something fancy and deferential, bow her head to
a god or something, but
Xaman
Ek
just leans down and covers her mouth with his own and oh, okay then.

"Lay back, my own,"
Ixazaluoh
whispers in her ear, and Abby lets
Xaman
Ek
guide her down onto her
back on the rock. The slab is short, Abby realizes, and it ends just above her
head and just below her rump. It is also slightly gritty, dusted with
desiccated leaves and dried twigs, pebbles, feathers and the flotsam of the
world. But beneath that it is smooth, worn silky by years, decades, maybe even
centuries,
millennia
of people just like Abby writhing on this very
spot.

Ixazaluoh
guides Abby's legs
up, tenting them, resting her heels on the edge of the slab and folding her
skirt up against her waist. She kneels on the ground between Abby's thighs and
kisses each of them in turn. Abby stares down her body at
Ixazaluoh
and realizes that she seems out of proportion too, now, larger than life
herself. Had she always been that way? Abby can't remember. Abby can't
remember
and it should make her panic, but it doesn't. Because suddenly she decides it
doesn't matter.

Abby sighs, warm and content, even if the
rock is a bit hard and uncomfortable.
Xaman
reaches
down and slides her dress up, up, over her breasts and up her arms, off. He
folds it gently and tucks it under her head.
What a thoughtful god
, Abby
thinks.

And then she laughs, because the look on his
face as he examines her bra is
priceless
. He's never seen one before,
she decides, that's what that expression means. He runs one long finger across
the edge of the cups, from one side to the other, his skin burnished against
the pristine white lace. He spirals his touch inward, finding her nipples
through the mesh of lace, and Abby gasps.

The clasp for this one is in the front, so
she doesn’t even have to wriggle to get at it. She just lifts her hands and
opens it. Above her
Xaman's
eyes go wide and dark
with sudden lust as the cups fall away and her breasts are released to the
night air. They are pretty average, Abby thinks, nothing special—perhaps her
nipples are a bit small—but the god reaches out reverently and takes one in
each hand, gentle, and pushes them together, flicking his thumbs over their
peaks, as entranced if they're gold; as hungry as if they're made of chocolate.

Abby arches into his touch and he throws one
leg over her body, straddling her at the waist. He is still standing on the
ground, legs splayed, and he leans down to worship her chest with his mouth.
His breath is cool, too, his tongue just this side of not warm enough to be
truly human. A matching tongue brushes against Abby's slit and she jumps. When
did
Ixazaluoh
get her panties off?

"
Whoo
boy," Abby breathes.

Ixazaluoh
laughs and her
breath puffs against Abby's clit. She can't jump because
Xaman
Ek
crouches slightly, pressing his ass against her
stomach, holding her down, and something hot and hard, steel in velvet slides
up between the valley of her breasts and, hello penis! Abby tucks her chin
against her chest and when his cockhead peeks between her breasts a second
time,
she gives the crown a little lick in greeting.

Xaman
grunts in approval
and she does it again, and again, until her whole chest is wet with saliva and
precome
. She remembers that she's got hands somewhere in
the middle of all this and runs her palms along the corded muscle of his arms,
scratching her nails across his skin in time to open-mouthed kisses that
Ixazaluoh
is pressing against her pussy.

"Oh,
god
," Abby moans as
Ixazaluoh
sides two fingers in and curls them upwards.
Ixazaluoh
sucks hard on her clit and the stars above Abby
spin. "I'm… I'm
gonna
—!"

"The first of many,"
Xaman
rumbles, his mouth against her throat and the
vibrations from his voice rolling down her flesh. He straightens, pushing his
tongue into her mouth at the exactly same rhythm that
Ixazaluoh
does the same below, and Abby comes on the spot.

She's barely back in her own head when she
realises that she's being manhandled. They turn her over and someone tucks the
ruined dress under her knees and Abby lets them, flopping down to rest her
forehead on her crossed arms and grinning like a loon. So what if it leaves her
presenting like a bitch in heat? She feels
great.

She feels loved. She feels
wanted.

Needed.

A mouth on her ass,
the tickle of facial hair across the cheeks, a trail of tender kisses.
And then a body
curved over hers, hard muscle and hot skin pressed against her back, the
crinkle of leg hair against the back of her thighs, and Abby thinks,
possessive
bastards
with a silly grin.
Xaman's
hands come
down on her wrists, pinning her to the stone. As if she would try to get away.

"
Never
," she breathes.
"Yours, yours, yours."

Ixazaluoh
slides onto the slab
before her, manoeuvres around
Xaman's
hold to pillow
Abby's cheek on her hip, carding her fingers through Abby's hair and pulling
the locks away from her face.
Ixazaluoh
bends double
in a brilliant display of flexibility and peppers kisses all along Abby's
cheek, temple,
her
eyebrow. Abby stretches into it
like a contented kitten.

"Now, Abby,"
Ixazaluoh
says. "Now you may worship me."

Abby smells woman, and salt, and stone. She's
never eaten out a woman before, but she's been kissing
Ixazaluoh
for three days and figures she knows how to kiss here, too. She starts slow,
though, just in case she doesn't like the taste. A small lick, a moment to
consider, and to revel in the feel of
Xaman
sucking
love bites in a line down her spine, the press of his cockhead against her bum.

Mmm
. Salty.
Womanly.

Cooler than when Abby's licked herself off
her own fingers, curious, but no different, really.
And less
bitter than semen.

She licks again, with the whole flat of her
tongue, and
Ixazaluoh
jerks, huffing in delighted surprise.
Then it's Abby who jerks, because without any warning,
Xaman
presses against her entrance and flows into her in one long, fluid stroke.

"Holy
fuck
," Abby gasps,
breasts scratching along the stone, head snapping back. She's aware of the
irony of what she's just said in front of two gods, whom she is fucking, but
she doesn't care because
Xaman's
cock is goddamn
huge
.

Abby writhes and he grabs her wrists tighter
and Abby uses the leverage to straighten up a bit, to rest back on his stomach
and make him wait while she adjusts. He is hot and long, and god, his glans is
brushing right against that lovely spot right at the entrance to her cervix
where she's most sensitive and most men can't reach. It tickles and she
wiggles, rubbing him thoroughly across the patch of sensitive tissue.

"Abby, lay down,"
Xaman
rumbles against her ear, licking and nipping along
the unmarked side of her neck.