90: Tuesday, Mithuna 17, 232. 0800 hours OST: Naz
Noa's office was her bedroom. It was cheery in a sexy kind of way. Noa ushered him to a seat on the bed. She sat at her desk. "What can I do for you, Zach?"
"I need some counseling." He looked around at her things uncertainly. "Maybe we should find you a real office. Here I am, in your bedroom, sitting on your bed. I bet a lot of people who saw me come in here think I'm getting physical... heh... rather than conversational intercourse."
"Regardless, this is how I prefer to work. Does it bother you, Zach?"
"In for a penny, in for a pound."
They spoke for over an hour. After talking it out with Noa, he no longer believed that Colby intended to break up with him. Like he'd originally thought, she was taking care of business. If she wanted Mateo instead, she would say and get what she wanted honestly. That was the kind of woman she was.
He was certainly not numb anymore. Zach felt the pain of grief over Colby and especially Berte. It was a sting throughout his body. After his talk with Noa, it was more bearable.
Noa had a flirtatious clinical demeanor. She'd crossed and recrossed her legs many times during their conversation. His eyes were inexorably drawn to her generous breasts and her muscular thighs as they scissored restlessly. There were critical times when his words came tumbling out in a hot mess. At these times, she opened her legs and leaned in, as if to receive his confession into her body. His eyes were drawn to the clearly visible crotch of her red panties. They had a fascinating dent. Her entire demeanor left him extremely horny and urgent.
"You look much better than when you arrived, Zach, much more alive," she said.
"You're a good therapist," said Zach. "And frankly, you're a beautiful woman, Noa. It's hard to ignore. Not that I'm complaining." He chuckled nervously.
"We are talking about your comfort taking a serious hit, through nobody's fault." She opened her legs and leaned in. "Are you getting enough physical comfort during this difficult time?"
"Physical comfort?" he squeaked.
"Yes, touching, Zach. I'm asking about rubbing and hugging as well as more intimate contact. Berte and Colby supplied a lot of such contact, no? Would you like to lie down together? We could hold each other. I can give you a massage."
"No thank you, I'm fine," said Zach.
"Take care of yourself, Zach. I"m here for you. Please check in with me daily, or more often, if you have the desire. Text me at any time of the day or night."
"Will do, doctor."
Throughout the day, his phone beeped with new text messages. He ignored them. He'd been relieved of all duties, so he knew none of them were work related.
Even though he didn't have doctoring or childcare work to do, he had promises to keep.
The agriculture dome was a huge place. It was filled with the greenery of many dense tiers of crops rising up into the mist. He walked the verdant rows of staggered tiers until he spotted four women in a tight group.
He stopped to regard them: two short and two tall women. The short animated redhead Stacy was there, listening and looking quietly and studiously at the other three. It seemed a halo illuminated her, she was so achingly beautiful. Her angelic face drew lusty attention to her athletic form, her generous bosom, and her dangerous haunches.
Her tall brunette buddy Martha stood nearby. Martha was more of a classic beauty. She was very put together today as she had been at the party. This time it was in a casual workaday way. She was unlike Charisse, who was Martha's equal in height and beauty. Where Charisse was sun-kissed and wild, a wildflower, Martha was neat and urbane, a rose.
Little Aanya added a dash of exotic coppery spice to the quartet. She had a serious look on her face, like she was worrying about her microbes again.
"...And I guess our tour is going to conclude here because I see Zach approaching," said Charisse. Martha looked his way and burst out in an excited smile. Stacy followed suit. It was blinding.
Aanya asked Martha, "So you think you can help my Martian fungi grow faster and stronger with no genetic modifications?"
Martha replied, "I think your problem is that spores don't travel well in a vacuum. The tardigrades will act like bumblebees, spreading the spores and making the fungal substrate grow faster and stronger. They're microscopic animals already adapted to Mars. They're vacuum and radiation hard."
"How can an animal manage that?" asked Zach as he walked up. "I'll have to investigate these critters myself. They may hold important clues to how we could make humans more radiation hard."
Martha grinned giddily at Zach. She looked ecstatic that he had actually shown up in her world as promised today.
Stacy, behind her, smirked with some satisfaction. Her perfect blue eyes flashed at him.
Aanya looked toward him hopefully. She looked tense and edgy. She clearly needed to be tied up and roughed up like she'd asked.
Charisse, ever calm and radiant, regarded him with her electric smile. "If it isn't our favorite doctor." She licked her perfect unadorned Miss America lips. She knew what he was here for.
"Time for that talk?" Martha said hopefully.
"Yes," said Zach. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Oh no, we were just finishing the tour," said Charisse. "The hydroponics. Our seedling tables. Our- and, and look at that fresh new pile of soil, Zach!"
"It looks wonderful," said Zach. He knew what she was implying. He was thankful to look away from the blinding erotic force of these women.
"It's soft," Charisse suggested.
"You could make a snow angel in it," Zach allowed, "or a mud angel, I suppose."
Martha said, "Zach, this is Stacy, the girl, uh, woman, I wanted to introduce you to."
Stacy held her hand out limply. Zach held it gently and looked down, down into her eyes. Electricity ran through his entire body. The closer he got to this outrageously luscious redhead, the more he was forced to surrender. Her face and short, spiky anime hair were casual and captivating all at once. She looked up at him with wide blue eyes. He felt like blurting out a comprehensive verbal surrender, but restrained himself. She had drawn on eyebrows artfully, being so fair she had only faint natural ones. He was lost in her beauty. He should say something. "Oh, guh!" Something caught in his throat. He choked a bit, coughed. Smooth. "Hi."
"Pleased!" Stacy grinned at him in seeming ecstasy.
Aanya rolled her eyes.
Charisse giggled and said, "You made him speechless! That's quite a reaction from the great and powerful Sack!"
He caught a tormented look from Martha, that, as he looked, changed to a rosy smile for him. He looked at Stacy, smiled, and with an intense effort released her hand and broke physical contact.
Stacy had a thick Russian accent. "You two need to chat. Yes, with Martha. Very good, my friend Martha. Likes you. You break heart we kill you, just kidding. Old family saying." She then grinned a funny grin at him. His impression was that she was actually not kidding. But she was also trying not to scare the crap out of him. Incongruous in a young woman who was considerably more petite than either him or the woman she was protecting. But women grew up fast in Russia, he knew. Anastasia, Stacy, was clearly one woman he didn't want to piss off. She was wild, captivating, and a little scary.
"Never fear, never fear, Zach is such a nice man, so wonderful," said Charisse. Her hands fluttered as she tried to bring harmony to the scene.