Kinesis Page 19

  This choice had more to do with Waverly's fantasies than any preference of Okka's. Okka's whole being sang with Now. Anywhere.

  One soft, moist appendage reached out, pushed the hem of his jeans out of the way, and flicked at his ankle.

  "Oh, Jesus!" Waverly yelped, heartbeat leaping, the fear real, but Okka knew that that was exactly what he wanted, and that if it was ever too much, Waverly would not hesitate to speak up.

  Touching Waverly, in this skin, was as magnificent as xe had anticipated. Xe felt the racing of Waverly's heart in xir entire body. And the place where xir skin met his… well, in humanoid terms, xir limbs were more sensitive and more flexible than a human tongue.

  Okka gave Waverly's ankle one long, ascending lick, and xe tingled with the sensations, and with the prospect of licking Waverly all over, everywhere at once.

  "Oh, man," Waverly managed between gulped breaths. "Do that… yeah. Do that more."

  Okka reached out, gripping Waverly with nine of his strong limbs, and heaved him bodily with xem into the pool.

  Xe felt the resulting yelp on every inch of xir skin.

  And, of course, xe felt Waverly.

  One limb was slung up under his shirt, a stretch of heavenly contact against Waverly's stomach, breath and warmth and every sign of life so close. One wrapped tight around his shoulder and upper arm, the water seeping in to soak the fabric that separated them there. Two entwined his right leg, one over the fabric, cradled against his ass, the other, the first, still snaking up the bare skin of his leg from the ankle.

  Another arm lay across his chest, over the fabric, tugging at the moist roughness of the T-shirt just over Waverly's right nipple. A sixth cradled him from the front, between his legs. The only pressure there was from Waverly's weight against it, and in the water, that wasn't enough. Waverly squirmed, panted, squirmed again.

  Okka held him at an odd angle, mostly vertical but tilted forward a little, face suspended over the eerily glowing water and the black curls of tentacles that pressed against the pool bottom, supporting them both.

  "Oh, God." Okka heard his words on every inch of xir skin. "Oh, God, Okka, what are you…"

  The ends of all the rest of xir limbs licked at the edges of skin revealed by fabric and began to lick their way across that skin. Okka gave particular focus to the one inching under the line of Waverly's waistband, following the crease of his hip.

  "Hoh-lee fuck," Waverly declared, breathing in raggedly between each syllable. "Okka. Okka. I need… I need you. I need more."

  Xe pushed one appendage into his right sock, popping his shoe free and wriggling between his toes. Waverly yelped and squirmed.

  Okka loved the feeling of him squirming in xir grip. Xe sent all the limbs farther, all at once, held Waverly tighter. So many little surfaces of skin. There needed to be more.

  Soon that right sock was gone, along with the other, and xe shifted to push Waverly's shirt up, making sure to drag it across his nipples as thoroughly as possible in the process.

  "Oh, wow," Waverly said, heaving in breaths. "Okka. Okka, please." He squirmed delightfully again. Grew harder against his jeans.

  Okka all but tore the shirt off, turning attention to the denim that was now their last real obstacle. Xe wouldn't let Waverly's hands anywhere near the button, determined to do all the undressing xemself. Xir tentacles trembled a little, hastening to nudge the button free.

  As space was made, the limb that had wound its way down Waverly's hip now curled around the root of his cock. Firm and slick. The noise Waverly made was loud but wordless, and the next, verging on a sob.

  Okka had no voice in this form, so xe reassured with little touches, licks, up the back of Waverly's neck and down his cheek. Twisting and writhing, Waverly reached out, touching Okka as much as he could, latching onto that nearest tentacle and sucking it into his mouth with thirsty enthusiasm.

  If Okka had had a voice, xe would have used it now. Oh, the pull of that mouth on soft, sensitive skin. The vibrations of his moans. The sound of his throat working to draw xem in further.

  At last, the jeans fell away entirely, and Okka's flexible body clung to Waverly's back, from his hairline to his thighs, pulsing with motion and life and need.

  "Oh," Waverly said, long and agonized. Okka guessed that he might have come by now if not for that strong limb looped around his cock. "Okka. Okka." There were no more directives to his pleas. But they were pleas. He needed, through and through—the tension in every muscle screamed it.

  Perfect. Okka thought that xe liked him this way best. Liked him needing, and far past denying or hiding it. Just pure and powerful need.

  Xe pulled away from his mouth, stroking his face once more before licking at his cock with one limb and letting another creep up the inside of his thighs to push at his balls.

  He screamed, loud and long, on the edge of agony, and Okka could deny him no longer. Xe loosened xir grip, pushed the loop of tentacle along his length.

  He had only enough breath left in him for a whimper, but he writhed beautifully, pumping his hips to slide through that loop again and again, gasping and shuddering and coming in pulses, filling the water with his seed.

  Okka's body was suffused with the intensity of it, with the knowledge of all the little details that this skin could feel.

  This was Waverly, falling apart in the best of ways.

  Okka wanted to make it happen again, and again, and again.

  *~*~*

  Waverly lay limp and befuddled in the tentacles that still cradled him. That had been…

  Well, it had been worth it, to start. Incredible.

  Strange, too. Jarring. In the best of ways.

  He stretched, and the tendrils moved with him, didn't let him move far.

  "So is that what you wanted to try? Are we done?"

  Those tentacles didn't react, just kept stroking at his arms, his chest, his thighs.

  "Okka?"

  There was no answer.

  A chill crept down Waverly's spine. Just an inkling of a possibility that Toto had decided not to watch, that something had happened to Okka and this wasn't xem.

  Objectively, Waverly knew he was with Okka. But the possibility that he was wrong was just enough to let him give himself over to this particular fantasy entirely.

  He was helpless, at the mercy of a being he knew nothing of.

  A being who used no human speech, who had no human face, a being who was so totally unlike him that he wouldn't know where to begin.

  This being had used him, had wrung him out, and still those tentacles stroked. Teased his sensitive places. The limbs were slick, their movements inhumanly quick and unpredictable, but they could do more than the lightning-fast there-and-gone touches they did so well. There was still grip and pressure and pull, as they used little sucking rings like mouths to press a thousand wet kisses to every part of him.

  Not always gently, either. They could latch on and really tug, he was finding. As one limb was currently doing to the delicate skin under his arm, with force fit to give him an octopus-style hickey.

  "Ngh," he choked out, as another limb began doing the same low on his belly. He squirmed, not sure if he was trying to get away or get more.

  That tentacle slid even lower before latching on again, its motion in the water so close to his dick but not quite touching, and yeah, he wanted more.

  He tried to reach for his dick, but the tentacle twined around his arm tightened, curled between his fingers, lifted his arm up out of the water. Waverly whined, twisted, seeking more contact, more pressure.

  Suddenly those sucking mouths were working at the skin all up and down his back, their pull-and-press rolling from his neck to his ass in waves. Each wave brought one particular tentacle inching farther down, prodding deeper into his crack and sucking the skin there.

  "Ah," he gasped, reaching for something, he didn't know what, but some way to make them give him more.

  One tentacle idly brushed his face again, and Waver
ly twisted, latching on, sucking, tasting. The flavor was sweet but odd, he'd registered as much before, but now he could pick out different elements, something like rosemary or sage, maybe walnuts, a bit of honey. But not quite any of those things—something alien, new, and addictive.

  That one tentacle pressed and sucked at his hole as he sucked at another, and he whimpered, clutching at the limb twined through his fingers, toes curling in and muscles bunching as he tried and failed to get friction on his cock.

  The tentacle pulled loose from his mouth to lay wetly across his jaw, sucking there, under his chin, under his ear, making a continuous circuit which pulsed those forceful kisses all the way from the corner of his mouth, around, down his shoulders, down his spine, to the pucker of his ass.

  "Yeah," Waverly gasped. "Yeah, come on, do it."

  The tentacle pressed a little more, still sucking, still kissing, not quite breaching the ring.

  "Oh, come on," he protested. "Give me something. Agh." A tentacle had found its way to his balls again, and was wriggling around to encircle them, tease at the stretch of skin behind them.

  Everywhere. The tentacles were everywhere. Moving and stroking and pulsing against so much of his skin. Except the bits where he needed them most. Except inside him, except his cock.

  Waverly writhed, though he knew it wouldn't do any good, and sobbed.

  Lost, and lonely, and helpless. At the mercy of a creature he knew nothing about. Hard again, and wanting. He waited, and writhed, because it was all he could do.

  The tentacle pushed harder, wriggled in, just breaching, still sucking at his rim in rhythm with the rest of the suckers covering his body.

  "Shit," Waverly yelled. "Holy shit." He tried to press back against it, but the being clung to his whole ass, moving with him easily. "Shit, come on, come on, more."

  The tentacle moved at a crawl, Waverly conscious of every slick, sucking millimeter of its progress into his gut. Every pulse of the circles down his back and his belly that sent it in further.

  "Agh," he gasped. "Yeah, oh God, more!"

  That tentacle teased at the very edge of his prostate for what seemed like an eternity, while the rest of Waverly's skin became enveloped in ever more twining limbs, infinite limbs, each with infinite points of little sucking mouths, all moving in concert, creating a universe that contained nothing but Waverly and the water and mindless, sense-destroying pleasure.

  Waverly floated, no longer able to move or to speak or to think, only able to feel, to give in to the moment and whatever the mass of limbs surrounding him might do.

  It was a tiny universe, that infinity that encased him, dense and full and vibrating with energy, awaiting its own big bang. But as full as it was, it was also, in its own way, desolate.

  Like feeling alone in the middle of a crowd.

  Like the sky, like space, full of stars, enticing and fascinating and wondrous, but empty of any voice to hear but your own, echoed back to you, calling out.

  This was a great adventure. An exhilarating experiment. But now, Waverly needed to come home. Needed Okka back with him.

  "Okka?" he ventured, voice small and lonely in his own ears. "Please."

  The limbs around him responded to that name immediately, tightening in an embrace, a motion that somehow couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Xe was still all tentacles, but something in the motions now was familiar, almost humanoid.

  Waverly drew a ragged breath, and he demanded, "Stop teasing and fuck me, you crazy cephalopoid."

  Quick as they had gone from thorough and methodical exploration to embrace, the motion of the tentacles now changed to unambiguously claiming. Tightening on his arms and shoulders, bending him to lean further over the water, curling tight around his hips, all preparing him to be taken, with force.

  There were—were there three? Three of those quick and disconcerting tongues of limbs inside him now, the first still teasing the edge of his prostate, the others alternating, sliding in and out of him in counterpoint, stretching him, their paces unpredictable and the resulting sensation confounding. Another limb slid slickly between his thighs, thick and strong, joining the thinner, nimbler one wrapped around his balls in pressing those little rings up against the sac and the skin behind them. He gasped, shuddering.

  Waverly Kemp was harder than he could ever remember being. He wanted… he wanted his bigger world back. He wanted his big bang. He needed to come.

  "Please," he begged.

  A tentacle twined around his cock, squeezed firmly, and yanked, perfectly slick, perfectly forceful. The three inside of him went deeper, faster, ploughing in and filling him, pressing hard and square against that tight knot of nerves, making sparks shoot all through him, flying out through his limbs and lighting up every inch of his skin.

  Fuck, Waverly wanted to come. He was close. He squirmed again, trying somehow to push back against every place he was being touched, all at once, to intensify this experience impossibly.

  His own personal starry void felt him squirm, pushed in against him from all sides, made the impossible happen, until all of Waverly's being was composed only of sparks.

  Waverly heard his own voice as if from far away, sounding stretched thin and desperate, overwhelmed. Not making words, just little sounds, little begging noises that escaped with each of his breaths.

  Then, deep inside him, one of those raised circles slid right onto his prostate, pressed, and then, as the rolling tide of suckers working at him washed down his entire body once more, that circle took its turn, and pulled.

  Waverly jerked hard and screamed.

  There was the big bang. Everything in his little universe, the pressure, the pleasure, the sparks, were all loosed at once, all set free.

  There was no possible way that he could feel more pleasure than this.

  Except then the boundary between his skin and Okka's dissolved and floating turned to flying turned to rocketing through the atmosphere on clouds full of fire.

  He could feel everything those hypersensitive tentacles felt as they held him, as the water lapped at them both. He could feel everything Okka felt, inside and out. Okka was him and he was Okka, and Okka was claiming him, everything he was, aggressively loving him, and permeating his whole self and welcoming him into xemself until they became entirely and only Their Self.

  A fraction of a second contained worlds, and They were still coming, tentacles urgently working at beautifully warm and elastic human skin, the pulses of release shaking through Them both, Okka feeling it just as vividly, just as immediately as Waverly, whose body it was that was coming, except that right now, it was Theirs.

  They were gasping, and tears were rolling down Their cheeks, and They were cradling Them gently, and They loved Themself fiercely.

  Oh.

  Waverly was home. Okka was home. Mystery was home. This was Their home.

  They laughed softly, and let Themself float, entangled, mind and body.

  They were home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Okka held Waverly for a while after things had settled, the two of them swaying together in the water, even after Okka had shifted back to the pale human skin of xir more usual form. Then nimble pale limbs lifted muscular brown ones back out of the water, set him on a deck chair, and wrapped him in a towel. Being one with Okka had, as before, refreshed and repaired Waverly's body, but he was still sated and tired and emotionally overwhelmed.

  Okka, after giving Waverly a kiss and a mental promise that xe would be right back, went back into the pool to retrieve the wet clothes. The shoes had been simple canvas, and might not be totally ruined, but they had already been old and worn. The whole ensemble had been an outfit he wore in the prototyping lab, ready to be damaged irreparably at any moment. Xe left the clothes on a second chair, knowing Toto would come and retrieve them and do whatever Waverly would want done.

  They didn't need to speak, not when they were in each other's heads like this, and Waverly was thoroughly enjoying the tail end of the epi
c afterglow. But eventually the lazy stage of it petered out to make way for a cheery, if still slow and luxuriant, mood. Waverly wiggled his way out of his towel and sat up, smiling sublimely. Okka reached down to rub the fuzz of his hair. They looked at each other, warmth and contentment permeating their shared mind.

  "You hungry?" Waverly asked, not really a question. "I'm hungry. Oatmeal cookies." He stood and bounced out of the room.

  They baked, and ate, naked. Whenever they could, they were touching, and whenever they were touching, they were one.

  They slept pressed up against each other, and shared dreams, some of them sexy, a few scary, but more of them happy, revelatory, inspiring.

  When they woke, they sucked each other off lazily, sixty-nine fashion, side by side on the bed, letting the echoes of pleasure bounce back and forth between them. They stayed bonded together in mind for the rest of the morning, minds idly picking at the details of last night's experience, what it had meant, how it had gone.

  "The original fantasy," Waverly said, talking aloud to help him sort it out himself, "I'm pretty sure that was a control thing. You know, too many choices, too many things I've been told I fucked up. I wanted that taken away. That responsibility to make good choices. I just wanted a situation where I could say 'I didn't have any control over this. It just happened to me'. Kind of fucked up, huh?"

  Okka just shrugged. Xe'd seen stranger things.

  "But I didn't realize it had turned into something more like Darmok. Like the moment when you figure something out or start thinking in a new language. I wanted that moment of realization, when everything comes into focus, when I solve the programming problem, find the bug, and everything goes right. But with a person. Making a connection."

  There was silence as they absorbed that.

  "I found it in your mind," Okka told him, "and it wasn't like anything I'd ever wanted before, but it appealed to me. Something about the contrast between the liquid form of a cephalopoid and the rigid form of a vertebrate."

  Waverly's mind was adaptable, and yet there were structures that he built on, massive architectures of engineering knowledge and programming language and an integrated timeline of experience that meant some things always stayed the same.