Part 18 (2/2)

'You're maturing nicely, Damia,' Afra told her when his inspection brought him back up to her eyes. He patted the water beside him.

'Water's warm.

Clothing in the gymnasium at Callisto Station was strictly optional and decorative rather then veiling.

Damia stamped a foot and squealed, 'No! The tan!

Afra, the tan!' Afra looked back at her body. He c.o.c.ked his head: it was slightly darkened. He put a green arm up next to hers and shook his head. 'Not my shade, I think.

Damia let out a screech of indignation. Afra!' She stamped her foot so hard that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s shook.

Afra gave her a teasing smile. 'Yes?' She pulled a bottle off the nearby deck chair and handed it to him. 'Will you put this on me?' she asked, her tone turning sweet. 'I don't want to lose what little tan I've got.

Afra took the bottle of before-swim tan lotion and eyed the adolescent carefully. He sniffed the bottle, put a little on one finger and rubbed with his thumb. 'How much and where?' 'Just enough to get me oily and everywhere, of course.

Her tone was just short of patronizing.

Afra obliged, starting with her backside. 'Your hair will get oily.' 'I don't care! I'll wash it later.' She lifted it out of his way with a hand. She twisted her head back slightly to watch his expression. It annoyed her that he merely laved her down gently, working from shoulder to b.u.t.tocks to ankles with no change of expression. Her eyes twinkled in antic.i.p.ation when it was time to do her front but Afra was just as careful and just as nonchalant when he lathered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as when he lathered her nose.

Still, he did avoid one area. Damia coughed discreetly 'You missed a spot.' Without batting an eye, Afra oiled up his hands and dutifully went over the indicated zone. 'I guess you'll wash that, too.' To her intense pique, Damia blushed.

Afra avoided her face until she had recovered, spending the time ostensibly fumbling with the bottle's top. He hefted the closed bottle and, with a gesture, asked, 'Put it back over there?' 'Oh, sure,' she replied absently. She patted her firm belly for attention. 'Do you think Amr will like it?' 'Your belly? I can't see particularly why,' Afra said, peering wistfully to the empty pool beside him.

'Afra! Not my belly! The muscles! Look!' And she tensed, revealing an exceedingly well muscled body, with abdominal muscles showing clearly under soft tanned skin.

'Nice,' Afra replied absently. 'Let's swim!

'Oooh! I should know better than to try to compete against a pool with you!' And with that she dived in.

Hours later, she appeared in his apartment. 'What do you think?' she asked, twirling around to let the skirts of a diaphanous purple evening dress swirl about her. She had done her hair up in a bun, with her witch's streak spiralling around the outside. Long dark lashes accentuated piercing blue eyes. Dimples formed around her mouth as it curved gently in a smile.

'I think,' Afra said as he strode into the living room with his dinner, 'that you were taught to knock.' Damia pouted but her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Afra knew that look. 'You know how your parents feel about you 'porting around the station.' 'Are you going to tell?' Afra shook his head immediately. 'I told you when you returned that you were welcome any time, anyhow. The door is even keyed to your retinal pattern.' He gave her a measuring glance. 'But it is good manners to knock.' He put his plate down on the coffee table and gestured at her dress. 'I do like it, you know.' 'It's for our date tonight.' 'Date?' 'Me and Amr' 'Sweet sixteen is a good age to start dating. Where are you going?' Damia's face fell. 'Well,' she hedged, fis.h.i.+ng in a rush, 'Amr's picking me up at Earth Station.' 'So this is not merely a fas.h.i.+on parade. Do your parents know?' 'They won't have t.

'What are you hiding from them now?' Afra asked with some exasperation. Damia pursed her lips, bowed her head. Afra took in the look and let out a sigh. 'A special boy?' 'He's not a boy! He's eighteen - almost! she responded hotly. 'I've been seeing him for months now.

Tonight's special.' 'So I had gathered,' Afra replied softly.

Damia stared at him. 'You're not angry?' 'That you're ready to become a woman? Why should I be?' His detached response perturbed her.

Afra was aware of that but ignored it. Damia's affection for him had blossomed quickly into an infatuation as p.u.b.erty changed her from girl to young woman. Afra respected that and handled the change in the intensity of her emotions as best he could but refused to release the storm that would surely strike if he made any overt acknowledgement of it. It took a supreme effort on his part as he recognized how much joy he took in her presence but he refused to abuse and relinquish his position as her best friend and confidant.

'Will you 'port me to Earth then?' she asked him flatly, eyes flaring.

'You'll be careful-' 'I know what to do! she shouted back.

Before she could draw breath to berate him further, she was on the steps at the entrance of Earth Station. 'Hmmph! That showed him.

Call me when you want to come home, Afra sent along with a special stamp that Damia had come to accept as a quick } peck on her forehead.

Despite herself, she smiled fondly.

Damia had met Amr at Luciano's when Uncle Gollee had had to cancel a lunch date. Amr Tusel, with swarthy good looks and a ready smile, had proudly informed her that he was a T-9 and training to be a stationmaster. Damia, too worried that she would frighten him away, had not revealed her own Talent but professed astonishment at his prowess.

At eighteen it would be a while before a T-9 would a.s.sume stationmaster duties. They had spent that whole first night dancing, and Amr had walked her back to Central Station which despatched people to any part of the world. His consideration and his kindness had impressed her but their first kiss had her toes curling and her body flooded with emotions she had not felt so intensely ever before.

Since then, Damia had established that they would meet at Earth Station because (truthfully) it was closer to home for her. They had seen each other for over six months, catching films, tri-vids, cavorting at amus.e.m.e.nt parks and dancing the night away. As time pa.s.sed, they spent more time engaged in pa.s.sionate embrace than in conversation.

Several times in the past weeks Amr had had to break out of their pa.s.sion for fear that they would violate the few remaining blue laws.

He had not figured out who she was, having never seen the lofty Jeff Raven nor any of the Gwyn-Raven clan, but Amr had figured out that she was young and a virgin.

With a sense of honour and a Talented compa.s.sion, he had surmised that he was being considered for that most delicate of consummations.

The prospect had frightened him and for a while they did not see each other. When he relented, Damia had grown reticent in her own right and it was only with a loud and lengthy argument that she finally set the date.

Being dormed at Trainee Quarters, Amr had no room of his own for such an a.s.signation and Damia had dodged the possibility of using her house by saying that her parents were always around and that would inhibit her.

The hotel was just across the street. Damia had left an overnight bag at Earth Station several weeks before when she had first made up her mind and had retrieved it before she met Amr.

He approached her with a smile on his lips and gave her a quick kiss. He stood back, taking in her appearance and shaking his head in admiration. 'You are beautiful, Damia.' He took her bag from her, waving her onwards with a hand. 'Lead on, fairest of Venus's daughters!' Amr conducted the course of the evening. They checked in, left their bags with the bellhop, asking them to be taken to their room. Dinner, a full course menu, was first, followed by a leisurely stroll and then the dance floor.

They danced until the DiscoTech was reluctantly closed.

The last dances were slow ones and Damia's pa.s.sions had been aroused. The urgency abated slightly on the trip up to their room but Amr teased her back into pa.s.sion.

Pa.s.sion was not new to Damia: she and Amr had spent many evenings locked in tight embraces but always before she had broken free when her pa.s.sion threatened to overwhelm her. It had been incredibly frustrating. Tonight Damia felt free to unleash her full emotions.

Gently Amr drew her into his arms, sliding them down her stately shoulders to her delicate waist. He pulled her body close to his as they kissed with rising pa.s.sion. As pa.s.sion rose, their clothing fell.

Soon they were on the bed, Amr running crafty hands all over her body and Damia lost in a shower of feeling that threatened to drown her. As her pa.s.sion peaked for the third time, Amr gently entered her.

At first Damia was too distracted by all the other sensations of her body to notice. She froze for a moment when she did, looking up at him with a frightened expression but Amr smiled tenderly through his pa.s.sion and gently flexed his flanks.

Damia moaned, grabbed him tightly, wanting him in her.

In her ecstasy she opened herself up, pulled him along and they rose and rose, crashed, rose again and again.

You're Talented! Amr cried through his pa.s.sion. Damia heard the accusation in his tone, unwillingly offered to stop but Amr thrust himself deeper in her, thrust his tongue into her mouth, crying: No!

Oh G.o.ds, no! I've never felt this before!

They continued, Damia reviving Amr's flagging pa.s.sions until they were both afloat on a wave of emotion, drained, recharged, sizzling electric ecstasy pounded over them, through them, around them wave after wave. The exertions and emotions finally were too much for Damia and she drifted languorously from o.r.g.a.s.m to sleep.

Damia awoke with Amr's eyes glittering on her, following the line of her body like daggers. She was sore, sore in places she had never known she had. Muscles she had only just discovered registered their abuse with loud flares of pain as she moved one leg in front of the other.

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