Different Planet

Waking Tony for his morning milking reminded Alice of weekends at the beach. She'd milked him there once, standing out far enough that they were in up to their necks. She'd pull his stiffy out of his swim trunks and masturbate him until he shot off big juicy ropes of his boyish semen to swirl and twirl in the nutrient-rich waters of Reservoir Three, just off the brilliantly artificial white sands of Chlorine Beach.

Instead of sand for a castle, the little plastic pail she brought with her to his room was half-full -- all the way full and it might spill if Tony got overstimulated during milking -- of very warm, cardamom-scented water and a pristine white washcloth.

He was awake and eager, as he always was, and naked. His half-erection perked up to full attention the moment he saw her breasts, supported, but not covered by his favourite pushup. She sat beside him, flannel pyjama bottoms brushing his shoulder. Squirting a little oil over her palm, she took hold of his penis and began to stroke it.

"No wet dreams during the night?" she asked, reaching between her breasts with her free hand to unclasp her bra, sending her breasts tumbling, the left one in easy reach of his lips.

"I dreamed of you," he said softly, licking the big brown gumdrop of her nipple.

"Oooh!" she shivered, "Did you dream of sharing a bed again?"

"Oh, yes!" he moaned, his hips moving, "I thought of the coitus-training holos and then I was with you and -- Oh I'm sorry, I know we're not supposed to -- "

"That's all right," she increased her pace and pushed her nipple between his lips, "You know all thoughts are healthy, just so long as -- "

He released her nipple just long enough to mumble, "But in the dream I didn't reach my... uh... climax." He was close to a climax now, but still a bit embarrassed talking about it.

"That's why we have our regular milking, Tony dear!" She felt him begin to thrust up into her fist, "Now, give me a nice big -- Oh!" He was squirting now, big, healthy boyish streaks of glistening semen splashing his stomach and chest. These young men could go from soft to ejaculation so quickly! she thought.

"And that's why," she released his penis and reached for the washcloth, "Why boys have to be milked," she began to mop off his chest, "So you don't squirt your sticky on the sheets in the middle of the night!" She rinsed the washcloth in the pail and started to clean his pubic hair and penis, pushing the foreskin back to get off the last drops of semen and oil. "Besides, wouldn't you say the orgasms you have when you're awake are better than when you're sleeping?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And having someone else do it for you is better than doing it yourself?"

"Oh, yes!" Of course, he'd been taught to masturbate, given holos to watch if he needed the stimulation, and he did really enjoy doing it, (especially when Alice watched) but...

"You remember when I was in hospital for a couple of days and Mrs Henderson came to look after you?"

He remembered her. A very nice old woman who'd handled him with the skill of long practice. She'd always cup him first, massaging gently, saying she could tell how full a boy's balls were just from how they felt in her palm. Those thin, bony hands had masturbated him over and over that weekend. The ninth time, she barely managed to coax out a last few drops, just a few tiny pearls of balljuice splashed across his heaving abdomen, but even that felt so nice.... and when she thought he wasn't looking, he'd caught her furtively licking her fingers afterwards.

She taught him a little bit of an anatomy lesson too, doing her mok'bara routines nude and letting him watch while she showered, saying he shouldn't be just learning the idealized body forms they showed in the health education holograms or worked on in the practicums.

In Tony's memories of weekends, the two nights she'd spent with him were almost as memorable as trips to the beach with Alice. Since then, she'd had a starring role "looking after" him in quite a few of his wet dreams! "Old Annie" Henderson? Was she still --

"She's still working, but this time our friend Zora is coming to visit. She might stay here overnight and she might not, but she'll have charge of your penis for the days I have to spend at Regolith Research." Alice started wringing out the washcloth. "You've met her. You saw her a few times when she came over to help set up for the HourlyFun parties and you got extra credits to go to Sapphire's Game Room because we needed the entire apartment?"

"Oh, yes!" Zora was much younger than Mrs. Henderson. If she let him watch her exercise...

"She won't be getting here until the day before. I'm hoping we can have dinner together, but you may not see her until the day I leave. Anyway, we'll definitely talk on video before that, OK?" She kissed him on the forehead and got up to rinse the bucket and put the washcloth in the hamper. He pulled on his robe and went in the kitchen to start breakfast.

It was a few days before Zora got a chance to call. She was as he'd remembered, a loud woman, a bit coarse, perhaps, but with heavy, sensual lips that Alice had always described to Tony as "kissable."

The next morning that loud voice was waking him, "It is so easy to be hopeful in the daytime when you can see the things you wish on, don't you think?" Half forgotten dreams of poetry...

He yawned, smelling the same cardamom scent Alice had always brought, but the woman sitting next to him on the bed was a few years older, dark-skinned and wearing only skimpy white cotton briefs. Her breasts, heavier than Alice's, with even more prominent nipples, were definitely things to wish on!

He stretched, lifting his hips as she helped him pull down his pyjama bottoms. "Do you prefer baby oil or regular lube?" she asked, "Alice had to leave in such a hurry she didn't get a chance to tell me."

"Alice always liked the oil," he said, which wasn't really an answer.

"I like it too," she smiled, "So boyish and young!" Squirting a little of it on her cupped hand, she prompted, "All set? Got a nice hard-on ready for a lonely woman?"

He was more than ready, except he had to pull off his pyjama top, but when she wrapped her palm around his erection, she found it rigid, the head already engorged and purpling.

"You can suck on it nice and hard," she leaned forward, dangling a nipple in front of his face. "Ooooh!" she gasped as he latched on, "I can tell you're ready to give me a nice big load!" He could feel her hips moving now, as her thigh muscles tensed and released in time with her strokes. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, even though he knew touching was --

Anyway, seconds later she brought him expertly to his first climax of the day, squirting streak after streak of hot boymilk over his chest and abdomen.

"Aah!" she murmured, her hips still squirming, "Such a hot mess! Almost up to your chin, boy!" Chuckling with pleasure, she carefully massaged the last few drops out of his relaxing penis and then mopped up every trace of semen from his skin and pubic hair. Her touch felt so nice and warm, and she didn't even joke about how quickly he ejaculated, the way Alice sometimes did.

At breakfast she wore a robe, but left it open so he could see as much as he wanted of her. What he saw was her left nipple, still distended from his vigorous suction, but maybe it was just imagination.

When the conversation turned to plans for the day, she hesitated, then said a bit guiltily, "I may not be back in time for your lunchtime milking," she paused as she slipped the last piece of cruller between her lips, "I hate to leave a boy to masturbate by his lonely self, so the least I can do is give you some fantasizing material. What do you say?"

"That would be very kind of you," he said politely. That was the second time she'd said "lonely." Why?

"It's just a just-in-case," she smiled, "I'll hurry and be back here if it's humanly possible!" Then her smile faded, "I know stroking yourself isn't the same as being with someone." She paused, and he wanted to ask if something was wrong (lonely?), but she perked up, "So let's take a shower together." She put down her fork, "That'll give you some good fantasizing material." She blew him a kiss, "Think of me as dirty as you can!"

He couldn't think of anything to say, just smiled and nodded goofily. Alice had, of course, sometimes showered with him when they were in a hurry in the morning, sometimes even given him a super-quick morning milking with a soapy, slippery palm. But all the same he was very excited at the thought of Zora lathering him up.

This was, you remember, back when the public gyms were not so crowded and usually had room for separate showers for men and women, so for Tony it was a special treat.

He felt a tiny bit uncomfortable, though, as they hung up their robes, thinking that if he wasn't supposed to handle her breasts (or, indeed, any other part of her anatomy) when she milked him in his bed, was it really OK in the shower?

Then her briefs came down, and he saw her tightly curled black pubic hair was already shiny and wet, so wet the crotch of her underwear was damp. Would she let him --?

It turned out, no, all he was allowed to touch was her back, scrubbing with a washcloth where she couldn't reach, leaving him to watch her hands lathering up her breasts, her fingers running through her pussyfur, pulling apart her lips to give him a glimpse of her purplish-pink inner labia. She even turned around and bent over, letting him see her opening her buttocks and soaping in between them. He imagined it was his own fingers tracing circles around the muscle ring of her brown balloon knot, but, because he couldn't touch it, touched himself instead.

So, when he got back home for lunch, he had a feast of memories to wank off to. Turned out he didn't need them, though, as Zora came through the apartment door a half minute after he did. Breathless and hurried as a cheating spouse or an Olympic sprinter, she grabbed the baby oil from her carryall, dragged him into the loo and stood him in front of the sink. Saying she only had a few minutes, she took his trousers down and reached around from behind.

"So much better when someone else does it," she said, one hand cupping his balls and the other stroking his penis, "I'm so glad I could get here on time!"

"Oh, yes!" he moaned, already thrusting himself into her fist. Then he felt her behind him, pushing, grinding her hips. Was she dry-humping him? "Zora -- AH!" he closed his eyes and tried to feel her hard nipples against his back, "Oh! That feels so good! Are you -- AH!" he gasped as she rolled his testicles, caressing them with her palm, "It's so good with someone -- do you have someone to...?"

"Someone to get me off, Tony boy?" she asked, definitely dry-humping him now.

"YessssSSSSSS!" he didn't hear or say anything more, eyes rolling back, groans (were they his or hers?) in his ears as his thighs and buttocks tensed and released (he could feel her pressed behind him, riding the waves of his muscle spasms) shooting streams of his semen neatly into the sink.

When he caught his breath and focused his eyes again, she was still holding him, breathing hard herself. "Mmm, nice!" she finally said, squeezing out another trickle from his softening penis before she released him and stepped back, only to reach for the soap so she could lather up his genitals and clean off his sticky. "I've got to head out," she said, playfully pulling his foreskin, "but I think you can fix lunch for yourself," she carefully toweled him dry and motioned for him to pull up his trousers. Kissing him on the cheek, she whispered, "See you this evening, Tony." Her hug smelled of perspiration and baby oil. And before he knew it, she was gone, and it wasn't until after seventeen that they saw each other again.

And after seventeen o'clock, there were so many boring household things that needed doing, cleaning, environment checks, packing and unpacking (even back then, quarters were so tight every piece of equipment was perpetually rearranged and reorganized just to give people enough space), that it was a while before he thought he could ask her again about her... uh... did she have... did she need... someone to do for her what she was doing for him, releasing that uncomfortable tension?

Anyway, He figured the most that could happen was she would ask to borrow one of Alice's vibrators and maybe let him watch her use it. That would be a treat even Mrs. Henderson hadn't given him.

"You're so sweet," she said, patting the front of her shorts, "Want to try out some of the techniques you've been learning in your health practicums?"

The practicums had involved watching holos and then practicing on approved physical simulators, adjustable to present as all body types (even males, for those so inclined), skin colors and ages from wide-eyed teen to big-breasted aunties to wrinkled pensioners needing delicate, careful handling before their juices would flow sufficiently to accommodate his first youthful attempts at lovemaking, but...

"I know just the toy we can use!" she said, heading to Alice's room. Of course, he realized, she's familiar with Alice's things from the HourlyFuns they'd organized together. Come to think of it, Zora had spent quite a few nights here over the years... If Colony sound-proofing hadn't been so good he probably would have heard some very educational dialogue from that room...

He saw her click open just the right shelf and pull out a lovely sculpted set of male genitals, lifelike, fully erect (no fancy mechanism inside to extend and contract or vibrate and heat up), but...

Though he'd never seen it before, he recognized it. Disturbingly similar to his own (now stiffening) penis, even the veins on the side were in the same pattern, as if Alice had taken a mould of his erection one night when he was having a particularly stimulating wet dream.

"I'm sure you've learned enough female anatomy by now," she took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom, grabbing the container of baby oil on the way, "And don't worry about lubricant, just thinking about you leaves me simply dripping!"

She stripped down, eagerly, so fast he could hardly keep up with her, and when her panties came down she kicked, sending them flying at him. He caught them and felt the white cotton already damp with her juices. She handed him the dildo and smiled.

So, just like every morning, he lay in bed naked.

Only this time instead of sitting next to him, Zora climbed on top, knees on either side of his head, bent over, her lips just inches from his cockhead. He looked into her open vag as she drizzled a little oil on her hand.

Then, just like every morning, he felt a warm, slick hand wrap around his erect penis.

But today he was expected to return the favor.

He started to ask her to pass him the lubricant, but then thought, stupid, the purplish-pink labia opening over his head were already glistening with her juices. As she moved, a drop dripped from her tightly-curled pubic hair onto his cheek. She really was as wet as she'd claimed.

The physical simulators (some quite beautiful, some looking mean and hard-to-please because so many young men and women had trained on them) lay on their backs (the tech to take the top -- or any active role -- was for paying patrons only) and he was usually expected to use his own penis to stimulate them. So he was a little clumsy maneuvering the dildo. She didn't seem to mind, "That's perfect!" she said when he finally found his way to the opening between her pussylips, "Now jam it in, boy, real women can take cock hard!"

He did, of course, but he also knew technique, thrusting in and out in time with her breath, his thumb on her clit making little circles, faster and faster as she got more excited. Or as he got more excited -- she was working him furiously now.

"Tony," he could feel her breath on his cock now, she was holding him so close, "Tony, this feels so fucking good Tony!" He could hear the strain in her voice and feel the strain in her muscles. She held the dildo in such a tight cunt grip he had to use the hanging rubber testicles as a handle (now slippery with her juices!) and squeeze hard just to keep his hold while he pumped it in and out.

But even that effort felt good. Everything felt so good he wanted to call out her name. Something stopped him, though. He knew Alice wouldn't mind. She'd only giggled those couple of times he'd called out Mrs. Henderson's name during evening milkings. Told him Mrs. Henderson would have been so pleased that Tony had remembered her so fondly!

But this, him masturbating Zora instead of just Zora masturbating him, it felt different. More exciting, more intimate, yes, but more edgy too, maybe even risky.

That thought, the thought of keeping a delicious secret from Alice, it suddenly sent him over the edge, warm, sinful pleasure spreading from the base of his spurting cock up his spine to the deep, animal centers of his lower brain, pumping his cock into Zora's fist, the dildo into her pussy, both screaming and thrashing until they collapsed from sheer exhaustion. He hardly remembered her rolling off him or the so lifelike dildo finally slipping out from between her legs.

He dreamed they were holding each other, his limp cock rubbing her wet pubic fur, her breasts mashed against his chest, the jizz he'd sprayed on them slippery and sticky, her kissable lips so close to his own.

She didn't dream of him, not at first. She dreamed of Alice's toy, and how much that toy looked like Tony, especially when he was erect and she was holding him in her oil-slippery palm. So lifelike, she thought as she held the shaft of the toy. Then in her dream the toy became the boy, real, and she wanted it.

She opened her eyes and kissed him. He opened his eyes and kissed her back. They had slept a long time, missed dinner.

They were both hungry.

"That felt so good, Tony," she whispered, as if someone might hear, "Would you think I was bad if I said I wanted more?"

"Bad?" he asked. Greedy, maybe... then he felt her grinding her hips, felt his penis stiffening as her pubic bush rubbed against it. "No, no," he thought as she kissed his neck, "More is aways better."

"You take the top this time," she said in a faraway voice, as if she weren't really quite awake, or was imagining she was still dreaming. Rolling to her left, she pulled him up and between her legs.

He moved reflexively, still a bit drowsy himself. He'd had so many, many practicums that pushing her legs apart and entering her was routine as Mrs. Henderson's mok-bara exercises.

Then suddenly it wasn't. His cock felt warm and wet inside her, gripped and massaged by kegel-trained muscles. Her body responded to his. She called out his name. When she held him, her black enameled nails cut into his skin and her tongue penetrated his lips and they tasted each other. Even her breasts, sweaty and stained with the semen from his last ejaculation and bouncing with each thrust of his hips, were more real than the most realistic simulator.

The thinking part of both their brains realized the problems they were causing, problems Alice's rigorous attention to his regular milking had prevented up to now.

He'd always had plenty of opportunities with women his age, and those women had been schooled in sex as much as he had, but his head was always as clear as his balls were empty (their heads were cleared by similar methods, which they told him about in exciting detail!). Aside from a curious friend or two who wanted to see if a real penis ejaculating looked anything like a simulator, his peer group worked together like an idealized asexual social machine.

Older women were much the same story. When Mrs. Henderson talked to him about coitus, it was purely part of his training. She'd even shown him videos (recent videos) of her and her husband when she thought he was naïve when he tried to talk to her about techniques of oral sex. If she was taking jobs with people like him and Alice to do irresponsible things with a young male, it was some other boy, not him.