Chapter 2

I left Syretia with Anya and Romy. I really had no problem with adding her to my household – she was an attractive person, both physically (despite the green hair and height) and personality wise. But did I really want three women? This could not be a one-night stand ... could it? Leaving the house, the sentry I’d resisted having slammed his fist against his chest in the new salute. I was in civvies and had on no hat, so I didn’t return the salute, that being the culture of my background. I nodded. But I walked, and he followed, muttering into a communicator. It was late enough that a moon was casting a, still to me strange, light, even after all the time I’d been on Andromeda. It wasn’t far to the lake, and before I got there I was aware of company, following discreetly. That was something I’d never quite adjusted to – being ‘important’, so needing to be protected. How did I, courier pilot, junior officer, end up in this situation? But I was.

“Hex,” a voice behind me. I turned. A default avatar of Andromeda stood there.

“Andromeda,” I responded.

The figure chuckled – a human response she’d learned. “You can do this. Anya and Romy will manage things. They love you. I love you.”

I returned to my home, my wives, my ... what? Romy and Anya were smiling. I thought I detected a degree of smugness. Syretia stood with them. Her expression was difficult to read, alien. Hopeful? Nervous? What?

“Husband,” Anya began, glancing at Romy, then Syretia. “Our friend wishes to join our family. Andromeda assures us that there won’t be any ... physiological issues. She understands that children may well be a consequence. She does not wish to wait for a legal bonding, but will participate in one at an appropriate time.”

“Oh,” I said, brilliantly. “And you two approve of this? You want this?”

“We do,” they said in perfect unison.

“Very well.” I stepped over to Syretia, and held out a hand. She took it after a momentary hesitation. “Syretia,” I said, looking into her eyes, “you are beautiful. You are a lovely person, bright and hard working. Please stay with us.”

Our eyes met for an eternal moment. “Yes,” she responded, simply.

I released her hand and Anya and Romy swept her away. “Give us half an hour,” Anya said over her shoulder, “then have your shower and join us in bed.”

Some would doubtless call me a wimp, but I believe that the secret of marital harmony is to let one’s wife (or, in this case, wives) have their way in household, personal matters, so I did as I was told. They’d obviously used the shower before me, and I took my time over mine. When I got to the bedroom, Syretia was standing, naked, between Anya and Romy, who were wearing nightwear, the sort of nightwear they only put on in order to have something to take off.

Syretia was a head taller than Romy or Anya. Her pale skin had a slightly sallow cast like a human oriental, though her eyes were round. She would, apart from her height, have been unremarkable in many Terran cities; people would assume her hair was dyed. Naked, she appeared to have much the same ... physiology as any Terran woman, what we’d call an hourglass figure. Long legs, shapely. Breasts, not large, but high and proud. Her lips were thin, her nose less prominent than most Terrans – I was going to say ‘humans’, but I was wondering where ‘human’ stopped and ‘alien’ began.

I was wearing a dressing gown over my nakedness, and my erection poked out through the front. Syretia’s eyes fixed on my dick and widened.

Anya and Romy stood each side of her, smiling gently, and Anya tilted her head slightly, as if to say, ‘well, what are you waiting for?’

Good question. I stepped forward, looking slightly upwards, my eyes fixed on hers. I gently stroked her cheek with the tips of my fingers. “You are very beautiful,” I told her.

She took a breath, a sharp intake, and leaned into my touch. Then her hands came up, grabbed my head and fastened her lips on mine. If I say it was ‘intense’, that is inadequate. She was too tall to mould herself to me, but I felt almost as though she was moulding me to her. I stepped away from the robe. I realised that her legs were so long that my erection was pressing against her mons; and even as I thought it, she moved, lifted a little, and the tip of my dick slid between her slippery labia, lodged in her opening. I didn’t do a thing. She wriggled a bit, I felt a slight resistance, then half my dick was buried in her channel. She was tight. I suppose I might have predicted that, though I hadn’t really considered that she was probably a virgin.

Anya and Romy pulled the covers off the bed, kissed my cheeks, one each side, and left. Syretia’s arms were around my neck, and my hands were on her back, stroking down her smooth skin until I was cupping her trim, toned backside.

At that point, she wrapped her legs around me, all her weight – and she was no lightweight – on my hands and dick; as a result she slid down until I was in her to the hilt. I managed to walk the short distance to the bed and get her on it. Once there, it was difficult, to say the least, to manoeuvre her fully onto the bed. In fact, she writhed under me, her hips furiously thrusting as she fell back with me on top.