Bravo Force - Cover

Bravo Force

Copyright© 2007 by Robin Pentecost

Chapter 27: Time off

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 27: Time off - Prudence Whiteside is a brilliant manager. She's also a competent small force commander, a talent she denies. Terry Sideman runs a company that can use all her skills. The time: the mid-twenty-fifth century. A lot has changed but some things remain the same.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Slow  

In their campsite deep in the foothills, Pru woke and looked out over a small oasis, complete with date palms and a pool of clear water fed by a spring that trailed off as a rill into the distance, feeding a marsh with a stand of reeds where several water birds were feeding. She sat up as Terry roused beside her, reaching to run a finger down her spine. Her senses responded to his ardor.

After a satisfying morning tussle, they walked, hand in hand, to the pool and plunged in. Whooping and splashing, they hurriedly pulled out of the icy water, totally unexpected here in the desert.

Pru began her Tai Chi practice as Terry watched. When she had finished, he came to her and embraced her. "You are so beautiful when you do that," he said, with a pause, " ... and dangerous."

"Well, look out, 'cause now I'm hungry."

Between them, they organized breakfast over a compact camp stove; eating hungrily as the morning sun rose over the hills and began to warm them.

"I never thought I'd be hungry again..." Terry began.

"Never fails. Nothing like exercise," Pru said.

"Want some more?" said Terry, reaching for her...

They found dates ripening on the palms, and spent the day harvesting, eating, swimming and resting.

In the dusk, covered with djellabahs against the evening cool, they talked about the tumultuous events of the past days.

At one point, Terry said, "Pru, we've grown very close, you and I. I really didn't see it coming when you showed up at Yonkers Portal. Fact is, I'm in love with you. Should we ... well, perhaps I should say, could we discuss a contract of some sort?"

Pru looked out over the oasis for a moment, thinking. He clearly was not referring to her employment contract. She looked back at Terry, sensing his love and slight confusion. "Maybe, Terry, maybe." She shifted slightly, pressing against him gently. "We don't need to do anything right now. I love you, too, you know that, and I'm falling in love with you. At the same time, I'm usually satisfied to be with you as often as I can, and I'm pretty sure neither of us is looking for a contract that would be exclusive. Without that, what's the point, unless we want a child?"

"That's true, Pru," he said, "But is this enough for you? I can feel you need something in your life that isn't there, yet."

"I think what you're feeling — I feel it, too, of course — is that I'm still confused by the different roles I've been playing. The Yemen, you know, was a spur-of-the-moment thing; it just happened because my friends needed me and I just stepped up to what was required. Since then — Wadi Felucca and Ouled Naïl — I really don't understand. I love my work as a businesswoman. I love the work I'm doing for Neo-Tantra. I don't know how I feel about being..."

Terry's arm tightened around her shoulder. "I know. I feel it. Just let it be, Pru, until you get somewhere with it. Don't force it; let it happen."

He kissed her then, and their desire took them where they wanted to go.

The next day, they rose, swam, made love and, after breakfast, finally dressed and packed for the 15-kilometer hike back to where they had left Pru's 'mobile.

As they finished policing the campsite, Pru asked, "Well, what's next? Back to the Home Office?"

Terry looked up at her from tightening the straps on his pack. "No, I don't think so. They know what they're doing. Why don't we drop in on the EU office? How long has it been since you've been in Paris CA?"

.oOo.

Turning the ancient city of Paris into a Controlled Area had, of course, been a monumental and controversial task. In the end, most people thought it had been a success. The task of enclosing the traditional boundaries of the city into an area that could be climate controlled had enraged nearly every Frenchman, and many non-French who claimed ownership, in some way, of the City of Light. But, in the end the control fields that had been installed ended at the traditional boundaries — excepting the Bois de Boulogne. The parks within the city — Tuilleries, Luxembourg, Trocadero, Invalides, and many others — had been provided for in the controlled area. Even the Montmartre with its cathedral was within the CA, provided with plenty of sunshine by day through the nearly transparent fields and with very real rain by night. Finally, even the famous and original Metro was improved to modern standards, even though many of the tunnels were the same that had been in use since the early 20th century; complete with musicians and even the occasional beggar.

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