Chapter 6: Games in the night.

I find a large sofa with a low table in front of it. I clear away the glasses and plates the last occupants of this area left behind. The owners of the café clearly intends to clear up in the morning.

“Hey, look what I found,” says Paulo. “A half finished bottle of wine. I’ll fetch some glasses.”

It won’t be real wine, but I’m sure the technicians of the central city can produce something akin to the real thing. I make myself comfortable. Even outside the dome, the ambient temperature is several degrees warmer than in Buchanan; a product of the hot exhaust air pumped out of the city. The huge domes act like greenhouses, and the air inside must be continually vented to regulate the temperature.

I lie back and look at the starlit sky. It’s all very romantic, which helps put me back in the mood for what I know is about to happen. When we were in the hot pool we thought we were pressed for time and needed to rush things. Here we are alone and unlikely to be disturbed before morning.

Paulo returns with two glasses and a bottle of what I presume is pseudo-wine. I’ve never drunk wine before, real or fake. It isn’t the sort of luxury anybody in Buchanan can afford. Paulo pours some of the wine into the two glasses. He samples some wine before passing my glass to me.

“Need to check the wine hasn’t gone off,” he says when he sees my puzzled look. I shrug in response. Either he is showing off, or drinking Argon wine is a far more common event in the military than I thought.

“Ah! A Chardonnay, if I’m not mistaken,” he says has he sniffs the wine and takes another sip.

“Are you an expert on wine?” I ask incredulously. “Or are you just making that up?”

“Neither. That’s what is written on the label,” he laughs.

I join in his laughter. His playfulness is helping me relax and I’m no longer nervous about what is going to happen. By the time we’ve finished the wine we are sat side by side on the sofa. He puts his hands on me. Mine echo his movements. The real world seems a million miles away. I can’t tell whether it is the effects of the wine or Paulo’s attentions which are causing me to think only of this moment and the intense pleasure I’m feeling as our limbs entwine.

Then he starts kissing me. At this point I lose control of myself and crave for more of what he is doing. I’ve no experience at this level of intimacy, and only the vaguest idea of what I’m supposed to do. Knowledge gained from teenage gossip in the factory, which is probably completely wrong. But I needn’t have worried. Somehow my body seems to know what to do by instinct. When I’m not doing something quite right, Paulo quietly guides me towards the right action. Our bodies respond as though we are one.

Then, before I realise it, he is on top of me. I feel that I’m at his complete mercy. That should alarm me and make me struggle, but all I want to do is to surrender myself to his desires. I’m rewarded with the most sensational feeling I can imagine. Heavy petting is as far as I’ve gone before. Paulo’s actions make it clear that we are going well beyond that tonight. I had been told there would be some pain involved, but I’m too far gone into the stratosphere of my arousal to notice. Paulo senses my submission and rewards me with a gentle and unhurried treat. His cock pushes its way into my moist cunt and I wrap my legs around his thighs to hold him in position.

“Careful. I don’t want to get pregnant,” I say in a brief moment of lucidity.

If he hears me he doesn’t alter his actions in any way. I’m too light-headed to force the issue. It’s a problem for another day.

Finally Paulo and I are spent. Our emotions can only remain at fever pitch for so long. We eventually return to the real world. I’ve no idea how long I’ve been away. We lie in each others arms for a while regaining our breath.