Now, while he enjoyed fucking a female alone, as he'd done with Cali, Jamis enjoyed it more when Taarig was involved because he could lose himself in the actual act. At the same time, Taarig took care of the finer points of dealing with the female. They only ever touched each other when the female needed it to find pleasure.
"I got so lost in Cali's tight little body, in her having an external and an internal erogenous zone, that I didn't even get her clothes off. I just pushed her against the wall, lifted her skirt, and fucked her."
"She has two erogenous zones?"
"Yes, and she was already wet before I even touched the external one between her legs, but when I did… Gods, she was so responsive."
"Ruk, Jamis," Taarig muttered, adjusting his cock. It had been too long since he'd had a female. "I need to visit The Brink, but first I'm going to my quarters and fuck my hand."
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Two days later, Cali poured herself a glass of maasika rabarberi wine when her link beeped her mother's incoming transmission tone. Smiling, she touched her link.
"Hey, Mom. I was just thinking about you."
"You were?" Cali easily heard her mom’s happiness.
"Yes, I was pouring a glass of the maasika rabarberi wine that you sent me."
"You are? Well then, I'll have to pour a glass too. It will be like we're together as we talk."
Cali smiled and settled into one of the couches she'd ordered when she'd known she would be purchasing The Brink. Triz had owned The Brink for nearly fifty years, and she didn't want to think what he'd done, with who or where in her new quarters. Her brother was very open about how much he enjoyed having sex with some of the universe’s more unusual species. She'd cleared out every piece of furniture he'd left, giving it to whoever wanted it, then sanitized the entire space.
"There," her mother's voice coming through the link pulled Cali's thoughts from Triz. "So, are you sitting on one of your new couches?"
"I am, but how did you know I got new ones?"
"Because I know you. There's no way you would keep what was once Triz's, especially in your home."
"You know me well."
"You're my daughter, of course, I do. Although I had to find out from your dad that you bought The Brink from your brother." Cali detected just the slightest hint of hurt in her mom's voice.
"That's because I didn't want you to influence him." Cali didn't need to see her mother to know she would argue. "Because you would have, and Dad’s never denied you anything you've wanted."
After a moment's pause, Dakota chuckled, "That's true."
"Which is why I didn't tell you. I wanted to get The Brink on my own merits, which could only happen if it went through the normal process at Wik Corp. No one there knows who my dad is."
"You are so your dad's daughter." Dakota's frustration at that was easily heard but also the love and pride. "Always trying to prove yourself."
"You would know."
"Yes, and after all this time, I'll tell you the same thing I tell him. You have nothing to prove. Not to me. Not to any being in the universe."
"And that, you know, isn't true because Dad’s Earthan, and I look it." It was an old argument, and one Cali knew they would never see eye-to-eye on. Not with what she unfortunately knew.
"California…"
"How's your wine, Mom? Is it close to what you remember from Earth?" Cali asked, knowing it would distract her.
"It will never be as good as the strawberry rhubarb wine my Grandma Rose, your great-grandma, made on her farm every spring, but it's close."
"Tell me about her," Cali encouraged, drawing her knees up as she sank deeper into the couch. She knew her mom loved to talk about the family she'd left behind. It was bittersweet for her, but it also kept their memory alive, and Cali knew her mother needed that. It made her feel not so alone in this vast, empty universe.
It was late, and a second bottle of maasika rabarberi had been opened by both females before the conversation finally ended. Cali couldn't believe they'd talked so long. Oh, she and her mother had always gotten along. After all, Cali was the youngest and only female in the family of nine, but still, they hadn't talked like this in years. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it. She'd