textfiles/sex/EROTICA/H/hardrock.txt

Narquel 9, 0259

	"G'night, you two.  P'rose, don't keep him out too late!"  
P'nyssa said as she headed out the door.  "I'm going to be over at 
Cutter's for most of the evening working on a burn case."

	"Mom, you work too hard!" P'rose insisted as the door closed 
behind P'nyssa's retreating back.  "She does, you know."

	I nodded.  "There isn't much I can do about it," I insisted.  "I 
just seem to live here at everyone else's whim, P'rose."

	"Bull.  You live here because everyone here adores you, and 
besides, your contributions to the world can't ever be returned, 
technically."  She sighed.  "I just worry about her."

	"Tell me something, P'rose.  What was it like, growing up with 
P'nyssa and T'Fia?"

	She smiled.  "Well, Mom, I mean, you know, P'nyssa, was always 
busy.  She was trying so hard to master this new skill that so few 
people had before the Tindals, and she was also trying to earn a 
physical medical degree at the same time.  She knew I needed a 
mother, so she made an agreement with T'Fia.  They both raised me."

	"It sounds... mechanical when you say it that way.  
'Agreement.'"

	"Well, you weren't a part of it," she replied.  "They were both 
wonderful to me, and both of them did everything they could to raise 
me.  They did a good job."  I was about to compliment her when she 
glanced down at her watch.  "OhMiFah!  I'm due on stage in less than 
an hour!  I can't believe I let the two of you keep me here so long!  
I told you to warn me when I had to go!"

	I looked at the wallclock and agreed with her.  "Well, you 
didn't ask Dave, and none of us really keeps track of the time.  
Besides, half an hour is plenty of time... isn't it?"

	"No, no, no!" she said, standing up.  "Come on.  If you're going 
to listen to me play we have to get moving.  I have to do my hair, 
and my eyes, and... Come on!"

	"Coming, coming!" I said, laughing.  I had promised P'rose 
earlier that I'd come listen to one of her concerts.  "Shouldn't I, 
like, dress for this?"

	"You'll be backstage.  You don't have to dress up like the kids 
out in front.  Come on!"  She grabbed my hand in her mitten and 
hauled me towards the door.  I was surprised by the strength in her 
grip and said so.  "Years of guitar," she insisted as we half-walked, 
half-ran down the hallway towards the SDisk.

	We reappeared in a darkened town on a dirt road.  "P'rose!" 
someone shouted from the edge of the SDisk.  "We waited for you.  The 
AI said you'd be here.  You're late!"

	As my vision resolved, I saw a young, black Felinzi on a 
stylish, forward-swept motorcycle painted in gleaming red.  She held 
a helmet under one arm.  "Heya, K'nady.  Do you have room for him?" 
P'rose asked, pointing her thumb back at me.

	"Can do.  March?"

	"I can carry him.  Who is..."  Another motorcycle, this one much 
wider in the middle, more 'muscular' looking, pulled up alongside me.  
"Vatare'!  It would be an honor if I could escort you to our show."  
The driver was apparently a short Mephit.  

	"Cut the 'honor' and it's a deal," I said, straddling the back 
of his bike.  Springs whispered softly under the added load, and the 
engine gunned.  I couldn't make out his species since he was wearing 
a helmet.  "Got a helmet for me?"

	"Attached to the rear," he said.  

	I picked up the small box he pointed to, pulling out the cloth 
within.  A touch of a small stud on one corner of the small box and 
the cloth immediately hardened into a fully functional helmet.  I 
pulled it on.  "Set," I said.

	"Let's ride!" the Felinzi shouted.

	"Yieee!" I shouted as the Mephit gunned the engine and the rear 
wheel spit dirt and grit backwards.  The bike vibrated insanely, but 
he seemed to have it completely under control.

	P'rose's bar, The Rose, is currently the "hot" place on Pendor.  
I guess being a stick-in-the-mud kind of guy has set me a little 
behind the times.  But P'rose's latest song is skyrocketing in 
demand; the AI that keeps the charts says that replays of her song 
have been in the top-five rotation slot for nearly seven weeks now.  
I don't really understand that; to me it sounds like just another 
popular rock song.  Her progress up the charts has given her enough 
friends that she persuaded them to build her a nightclub, complete 
with all the fixings.  She didn't build it from scratch, but instead 
took it over from someone who, she had said, had grown tired of the 
therapy business and was going back to school to study history 
instead.

	The two bikes soared through the town, which an AI inquiry in my 
head identified as Ramdal, a curious name by any measure.  The Mephit 
handled his bike as if he had been born driving it, an attitude that 
reassured me.  The wind whipped past my leather jacket as the bike 
cornered tight around a two-story building and pulled up into an 
alleyway.  A couple of rats ducked as the lights of two internal-
combustion beasts growled their way to a door.  "Here we are."  He 
got off the bike, and so did I, returning the helmet.  "Thanks," I 
said.

	"Thank you," he replied, grinning.  "If I can calm down enough, 
I'll really be in the mood to rock tonight!" 

	"Come on, March," P'rose said, grabbing him by the shoulder.  
"Let's get dressed!"  Just as she had done with me earlier, she 
hauled him in through the dark doorway out of sight.

	I followed, curious, and apparently invited.  Inside, there was 
a madhouse of two mels and four fems hurriedly dressing, getting 
ready.  A tall Uncia came back and shouted, "P'rose!  Ten minutes!"

	"I'm ready, I'm ready!" she shouted back.  I retreated into a 
black hallway that led to the stage, taking cover.  Out on stage, two 
mels were assembling the gear the band would be using to play.  It 
was nice to see that people still used unsynthesized electric 
guitars, animal-skin drums and brass saxophones.  The fact that I 
found that interesting shows just how out of the mainstream I am when 
it comes to music.

	The crowd outside was mostly youthful-looking, with a few people 
showing that carriage that comes with maturity.  I estimated most of 
her fans were less than fifty years old, and it showed in their dress 
and the noise.  Oh, the noise!  Unbelievable!  P'rose was going to 
try to play over *that*?

	They came running by me, slowing only as they reached the edge 
of the stage, walking out into the view of the audience calmly, 
waving.  I admired that professionalism.

	And then they began playing.  A wall of noise rolled over me as 
the guitars began screaming and the bass drum began thudding.  The 
beautiful Human girl with the saxophone was belting out high notes on 
that thing so high they threatened to make my ears bleed.  But as I 
stood there, watching them, my body began responding to the rhythm 
all on its own.  I found myself bouncing back and forth, enjoying 
myself.

	The crowd, of course, ate it up.  That's what they were here 
for.  To listen to what was now the most popular band on the Ring.  I 
watched and listened, to the lovely bodies on stage interacting with 
the equally lovely bodies down in the audience, wondering about all 
the rumors that surrounded this musical kind of hero worship.

	At the intermission, P'rose walked straight towards me, 
accompanied by one of her other bandmembers.  "Rosy, who is this?"

	"Meet Minda, my keyboards. That over there is V'Drow, my lead 
guitar.  That's Tim on string synth."

	"And who's this?" Minda asked.

	"I hope you recognize Ken Shardik, Minda."

	"Ohmifah!  I'm sorry!  Ohmifah, it really *is* you!  Rosy, how 
do you know him?"

	"Be serious, Minda," the lead guitarist said.  "Rosy's mother is 
P'nyssa Traken."

	"Ohmifah, I'm such a vacuum!  I'm sorry."

	"It's okay, Minda.  Go get something to drink, would you?"  
P'rose shuffled Minda out of sight, then turned to me.  "Great 
musician, not a great thinker.  So, what do you think?" she asked.

	"It's... um... powerful," I said.

	"It's not your kind of music," she said.

	"I listen to Iron Maiden once in a while, okay?" I laughed.  
"It's just been a long time since I listened to anything played live.  
That sounded really wonderful," I said.

	"Glad you like it," she said.  The Uncia who had come by earlier 
came by again, placing a pitcher into her hand.  "Water.  Thank Fah," 
she said, raising the entire jug to her mouth and draining what 
looked like half of it.  Then she glanced up at me, smiling.  "I 
should be careful saying things like that around you, shouldn't I?" 
she asked.  "Mom warned me about that."

	I shook my head.  "Be yourself around me," I said.  "That's all 
I ask."

	She nodded.  "I gotta go back on."  She kissed me on the mouth, 
which surprised me.  "Wish me luck."

	"Luck," I said, still recovering.

	"HELLO OUT THERE!" P'rose's voice screamed over the speakers.  
"ENJOYING YOURSELVES?"

	From the expression on her face, the roar of the crowd was 
giving her orgasms.  She looked wonderful, just like her mother, only 
with more muscle.  "Good!" she said, lowering the volume a little.  
"By the way, I want to point out a very special person in the 
audience tonight.  Most of you out there can tell who my mother is, 
right?" she asked, pointing to her eyes.  I groaned.  P'rose, I 
begged silently, don't do this.  The audience cheered.  "Well, she's 
not here, she's too busy.  But we do have Ken Shardik in the 
audience.  Mac, gimme the spotlight on Vatare'!"

	"Ack!" I said as the light panned across me.  The audience just 
went berserk at that point.  I tried to put on an indignant chin, 
glaring at P'rose.  She stuck her tongue out at me.  So I stuck mine 
right back at her.  The audience ate it up.  

	"Okay, enough humiliation for Shardik.  Let's rock!"

	The band exploded in another wave of feedback and I ducked back 
behind the stage again, my heart beating loud in my chest.  I *hate* 
being pointed out like that.  It drives me crazy.  I seriously 
thought about how I would get back at her.

	Finally, though, the concert was over and the nightclub went 
back to being a club, serving drinks and clearing out a space on the 
floor for dancers.  I waited in the back room for P'rose to come out, 
and finally she did.  "What did you think?" she asked.

	I grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out into the alleyway, 
just as she had hauled March and me around earlier this evening.  The 
door slammed against the brick wall as I threw it open, then slammed 
shut into the doorframe,  vibrating on its hinges as I closed it.  I 
turned her around and shoved her up against the brick wall of The 
Rose.  "What kind of crazy stunt was that?" I asked.

	Her expression fell.  "Well... I just thought..."

	"You could embarrass me in front of all those people?"

	"Oh, come on, Ken!  They love you.  There's nothing embarrassing 
about that."

	"I was embarrassed!" I said.  "I don't like being..."  I have 
the hardest time in the universe holding onto anger.  It dissipated 
right there and then.  "Sorry.  You just had me going for a moment 
there."

	"Look, I'll never do it again," she said, raising her eyes to 
me.  Her face is so much like her mother's, with the white rings 
around her dark yellow, almost orange, eyes.  She was imploring me, 
and I couldn't hold back.

	A light drizzle began to fall on us, out in the alleyway.  A 
single lightglobe, high on one corner of the building, illuminated 
us, the two motorcycles, and the gritty, glistening blacktop.  
Droplets were misting on her upturned face.  I leaned over and slowly 
placed a kiss on her lips.  Her mouth opened slightly, just enough 
for a breath, as I straightened back up.  Her eyes were closed.  
"You're forgiven."

	She fluttered her eyes open again.  "Ken?  Do that again."

	As I leaned over, I heard music coming through the walls.  The 
entire building I was pressing her against thumped with the 
recordings of bass guitars and monstrous drums.  And as I kissed my 
step-daughter, I heard the words.  They were playing her most popular 
song.

	Baby, can't your heart dance?
	Can't you give me one more chance?
	You came into my life, now all I do's about loving you.


	Her kiss grew more passionate.  Between the music and the cool 
of the mist, we were generating more than enough heat for two.  Her 
mittens reached into my jacket, touching my chest through the cloth 
of my shirt.  I ran my hands down the sides of her body, covered in a 
tight latex corsetry and miniskirt decorated in garish pinks, blues, 
whites and reds.  She moaned under my caresses, seemingly being 
turned on just by my smallest progress.


	I remember the first day that you walked into my dreams,
	You were the most handsome creature I thought I'd ever seen,
	And I thought I was the kind that someone like you'd never want.
	

	"P'rose?" I asked as I managed to get a pause for breath.

	She looked up.  "I'm sorry... do you not... want me?"

	I laughed.  "Oh, P'rose, you have no idea.  I'm just a little 
surprised by your forwardness."

	She smiled.  "I just thought now was a good time.  I've always 
been a little excited by the idea of making love out here, in an 
alley, where I could get caught.  Please?"

	"Make love out here?"

	"Sure!" she said.  She took my hand and led it between her 
thighs.  "It's a short skirt.  See?"  She grinned.


	Like a flame we joined and loved and tore each other in two,
	And I'm left with nothing but anger to remind me of you,
	And it's in my dreams or are they nightmares that you're the haunt.


	My fingers did indeed "see," as I felt the wetness slowly 
spreading from her slightly swollen lips.  I pressed her up against 
the wall, my mouth finding hers again as my fingers slid between her 
nether lips, caressing her already very hard clitoris.  She 
shuddered.  "Gently," she sighed.

	I slowed down slightly, and her mittens found the buttons of my 
fly, pulling them open with an easy tear.  She reached in.  "You 
don't wear anything underneath."

	"Not usually," I said. 

	"Good.  Makes this so much easier."  She knelt down onto the 
hard pavement and fumbled momentarily with my pants; a second later 
she had my erection in her mitten, and a second after that in her 
mouth. 
	 I gasped as she swallowed my cock smoothly.  I reached down and 
ran my fingers into her hair.  She moaned as I held onto her, trying 
not to grab at her large ears.  Her tongue pressed hard against the 
underside of my cock, teasing the head as it swirled around and 
around.  "Easy!"

	She eased back only enough to inhale deeply through her nose, 
then attempted to swallow the whole thing.  I felt my cock curve 
gently against the back of her throat and downwards until I felt the 
warm wetness of her lips at the very root of my cock and looked down 
to see her nose pressed into my fly.  Gods, she was incredible.  She 
slowly backed off and began stroking, slowly, making sure my cock 
stayed hard as a rock.  My hair was standing on end from the 
pleasure.  "Oh, P'rose."

	She released my cock and stood up, pulling my head down until I 
kissed her lips.  But she still pressed down further, until I got the 
idea and dropped to my knees before her.  She spread her legs wide as 
I pushed up the plastic hem of her almost nonexistent skirt and 
pressed my mouth to her labia.

	It was her turn to moan in pleasure as I spread her lips with my 
fingers, digging my tongue against her lips and caressing her 
surprisingly large clitoris... much larger than her mother's.  I 
sipped the juices that were almost running down her legs as she held 
my head against her cunt.  She had no qualms about holding me in 
place!  The smell of her filled my nostrils and the sweet taste of 
her cunt flowed along my tongue as I flickered it against her 
beautiful, blue-furred cunt.  She moaned, "That's it.  That's it, 
Ken.  A little more... a little harder... yes!  YES!"  Her body 
bucked as she came, her mittens tight against my head.  "Oh my fah, 
yes!"

	I smiled as I looked up at her.  "Now," she gasped.  "Fuck me, 
Ken."

	I looked around and found a small beam of wood, once part of a 
cargo pallet.  I kicked it into place.  "Stand on that," I said.  
"I'm taller than you are."

	She smiled and stood on it.  "How's this?" she asked.

	"Perfect," I said, approaching her.  My cock, even to my 
surprise, had not softened at all.  I pressed up against her, aiming 
my cock between the wet lips of her cunt.  I slid past the hole the 
first time, but the second time I thrust it felt like her opening 
grabbed me and pulled me in.  

	"Yes," she moaned again.

	"Uh-huh," I sighed, kissing her.  Even with my jacket, the heat 
had leeched from my body long ago; the sensation of her warm cunt 
enveloping my cock felt wonderful.  I grabbed her tens right below 
the mittens and pressed them up against the brick wall, thrusting 
deeper.  She spread her legs further apart, and I began a slow, 
rhythmic fucking.  The hard part was staying inside her.

	We managed.  I found it hard to breathe in the cool night air as 
the mist fell around us.  We panted as I thrust into her, holding her 
hips.  We were watching each other, occasionally taking side-glances 
to look down and see if anyone was watching us.

	Then the door to The Rose opened.  "P'rose, where are you... 
Oh."  It was her Mephit drummer, March.  I glared at him, and she did 
too.  "This can wait."  He closed the door hurriedly.

	She giggled.  "We'd better hurry this up," she sighed.  "Not 
that I want to."

	"I understand."  I slid out of her.

	"I didn't want to... whoops!"  I grabbed her by the waist and 
turned her around, facing the wall.  With a brusque pull I had her 
skirt up again, and slid my cock back into her willing cunt.  "Oh..." 
she gasped.  "Yes."

	I grabbed her hips and began thrusting harder.  She held onto a 
drainpipe and bent over further, pushing her ass out to meet my 
thrusts.  "Yes," she groaned.  "Like that."

	"I'm close," I gasped as the tickling in my groin said the same 
thing.  "I'm really... YES!"  I pushed into her, hard.  My cock 
pulsed come into her, and I heard her groan. 

	"Yes..." she sighed.  "Oh, yes."

	I slid my erection out of her.  It jutted up into the cold night 
air, wilting slowly.  "That was wonderful," I sighed.

	She grinned wildly, kissing me on the cheek.  "I enjoyed 
myself."  We both laughed as I dug my black handkerchief out of a 
pocket and wiped myself off.  I handed the kerchief to her as I put 
my shrinking cock away and closed up the button on my jeans. 

	"Nearly zipless," I commented.

	"Come on," she said.  "I'd like a drink of something cool."

	"Me too.  And you have to find March and find out what he 
wanted."

	She giggled.  "And probably apologize to him, too."  She reached 
up for my cheek, pulling me down towards her, kissing me.  "Thanks."

	"You're very welcome," I said.  Like the perfect gentleman that 
I sometimes pretend to be, I held the door open for her and followed 
her back into the club.

--
"Between a Hard and a Rock Place"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al. 
are copyright (c) 1989-1994 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.  Distribute freely 
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