Date: Sat, 09 Oct 2010 16:45:06 -0400 From: tommyhawk1@aol.com Subject: The Paradise Parasites THE PARADISE PARASITES By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM The ship itself had been cramped with two people. But when you're half of the first manned mission to another solar system, you don't bitch about crowded quarters. Even at a full gravity of constant acceleration, the trip had taken over a year and would take as long back, not to mention there was no guarantee that they'd be able to take provisions on at their planet of destination, or even that one was there! So supplies took up a lot of space, and took up a lot of energy to lift and boost, which had to be paid for in the volume in their living quarters. A third man would have just about doubled their power requirements overall; it wasn't worth it. Two men could manage things well enough, and their quarters, a grand six feet by twelve feet, could be divided in half while the man off duty slept, or just when they'd gotten sick of looking at each other. Ken had to admit that Gregory wasn't hard to get along with. Big, black stud with powerful arms and deep sepia skin, he'd been a source of plentiful dirty jokes and when those had palled, a good player at double-solitaire, chess, checkers and the like. And there had been a plentiful supply of various computer games to play while the other man slept. Gregory snored. Gregory smelled funky after his workout and didn't shower for three hours longer, until his bedtime. Gregory had a habit of blowing out farts when he needed to, without warning or apology, and they frequently stank nastily. Gregory...Gregory was getting on his nerves, and then some! Ken didn't doubt that his own blond-haired, pale-skinned, buff-bodied Nordic self hadn't gotten equally on Gregory's nerves. Like his love of relaxing by listening to classical music, which Gregory described (frequently) as being a lot of "wah-wah-wah-wah!" delivered in a sneering tone. At least Gregory listened to his hip-hop with earphones on, but somehow classical music needed to fill the entire volume around you to work right.... Still, they had made it to Alpha Centauri without killing each other. Now if they could find a planet worth visiting now that they were here. Ken was ready personally to bet against it. He'd had plenty of time to read up on what was known about the system. A binary star system, one ("A") slightly brighter than our own sun, the other ("B") slightly dimmer (and a third star, little Proxima Centauri, too small to be interesting that way), Ken was betting with the scholars who felt that any star that had a companion had no need to throw out planetary material to stabilize itself. If they found planets, they would be few and small. Not to mention the double stars would make the habitable band narrower than Sol's. If they had to go back without even getting out of this little room, they might be at each other's throats by the time they got back. This ship might finish with only one pilot on board...or none. Ken was washing his face in the mirror, bleary and wishing they hadn't run out of coffee so quickly. He hadn't been sleeping very well, all the astronomical instruments had been scanning the narrow doughnut shape that could hold a planet for the tiny nugget of a world for three weeks now, they only had enough provisions for two months at the system.... "There it is!" Gregory called and Ken wiped his face hastily and came out of their minuscule bathroom. They'd run out of deodorant aerosol already, too, and the place stank despite cleaning the place daily.... "Did you find a planet?" He asked, not daring to believe it. "Nah, I found a flock of geese!" Gregory answered. He was himself annoyed by Ken's desire to have everything verbally confirmed rather than making assumptions. Ken sighed, let it slide. "Tell me about it." "Right size, right distance from Alpha Centauri A, and shows water in the spectroanalysis. Beyond that, we'll just have to get closer." "All right." Ken said. "Let's plot a course there and shift our orbit." "Okay, but I thought we'd just stay here and let them come to us." Gregory answered. Ken took a deep breath. Let it slide, let it slide. It's been a rough trip. He slid into the other chair and started his part of the job of calculating the orbit shift needed. The answer wasn't pretty, they'd need three weeks to get there. But at least they had a destination and a goal. They could go out, even if only in suits, able to look at something besides blackness and stars (for a planet from any distance looks like just another star). First men to walk on another planet. When the time came to make the first step, they'd draw cards and high card got the honor. Every test they ran and every photo they took only added to their excitement. A lot of water, but there was land. And when they got closer, they found life as well. The undisputable green of chlorophyll, no less! And the air was rich with oxygen, enough to let them replenish their air. And maybe this planet would one day hold a human colony! "You let me name the ocean after me, and I'll let you name the biggest land mass after you." Gregory offered jovially. Ken grinned back and nodded. They could try that, so the Jefferson Ocean and the continent of Bronson were thus christened. They'd land on the second one not that far from the first, where the land was lush, fertile and warm, but not tropical. What on Earth would have been the Tropic of Cancer. The last tests were for dangerous microbes in the atmosphere and soil, and testing the reactivity of the plant life on human flesh. There would be other dangers these tests wouldn't show, but the microscopic life forms were the ones that could be brought back to Earth. They'd breathe the air, and give it a year to work its damage on them; Earth could land the ship by remote control on the Moon and retrieve the data, let the germs die at their leisure in the Moon's vacuum. Ken shook his head at that thought. Even if they died at such a point, their names would live on, news of their discovery was even now being beam-cast back to Earth. It would get there in four years or five years. "It all looks good." he said to Gregory after they were done. Gregory looked exasperated at the announcement but held his own tongue this time. "We'll take the lander down and look the place over." "Gee, and I thought we'd pole-vault there." Gregory muttered. But only muttered. It'd be better when they got outside the ship. There was life here, but it was pleasant and non-threatening. If there were predators, they didn't show around them for the fifteen days they were there. Neither of them came down with the queasy-nasties during their stay. If the bacteria or viruses this planet held had any interest in human life, they hadn't shown it yet. And their chemical make-up suggested any interest was unlikely, at least until they'd had time to adapt to human life-forms, for viruses were infinitely adaptable, after all. But a human colony could at least start here and hope to survive what the planet would throw at them. They named the planet "Paradise" for good luck and sent happy reports back to Earth and loaded their computers with terabytes of positive data. Fifteen glorious days and then it was back to the ship and back to the regimen they'd lived in for an entire year, and now had to make do with for another year. But at least now they were going home, and had a successful mission under their belts. It ought to be easier...shouldn't it? They had more to do, at least, correlating the data they'd collected, tedious but useful and something they needed to do for the scientists. It didn't help the scientists if they looked at a sample without knowing if it came from the ocean, on land, or from one of the tidal pools, now would it? And only the one who collected it could document such things. His sleep became increasingly disturbed, though. First it was like voices were babbling in every dream he had, intelligible whispers, but they got louder and louder day by day. And on top of that, he found himself increasingly horny, wanting to jerk off, but when he tried (hell, a year aboard the ship with only one other person, and that a man, he was a master at that), his cock sort of sputtered and drooped. Like he'd lost interest in beating off. He didn't think that could happen! And if it had, wouldn't his interest in sex have dropped as well? It was like he couldn't stop thinking about it! After four days, he was getting desperate. The ship was on track and en route, any course corrections couldn't be done for a month or more. His dreams were at the point where they caused him to thrash about in his sleep, something he had never done. His shorts were soaking wet from his nocturnal emissions. He had always kept his sexual fantasies reasonably demure and sedate, a female form suitably decorous and demure, the sexual progression romantic, the...the hell with it! He tried thinking of the women in leather, in chains, in bondage and unwilling! It helped, a little, but not enough to let him reach orgasm. After two days of this, he tried thinking of animals, female animals, of course, and that was abortive. So he tried envisioning a man as his sexual partner. Rather to his discomfort, that helped, he nearly made it to climax. Various kinds of men, he found that his cock preferred the men to be big and strong. Okay, they had to be black as well. They had to be of a personality that.... The revelation came to him in a surprise of dismay. "Aw, shit! I've got the hots for Gregory! Fuck!" That ended the attempt for that sleep cycle! He couldn't stay all the time in the sleep portion, he had work to do! Gregory would be right at his elbow for the next two hours. Then eight hours of blissful solitary and two more hours together. He looked at the clock, he wasn't due to leave the cubby for another hour, but to hell with it. With that sitting on his brain, he wasn't going to sleep any time soon! He got up, just wearing his briefs (soaking wet, of course, worse than ever) and tapped the button to raise the full-floor-to-ceiling shield that divided the compartments, intending to go to the bathroom and try to take a whizz in his tumescent condition. Peeing through an erection was a difficult but not impossible proposition. The shield opened rather quickly and quite silently, Ken took one step toward the bathroom and stopped in his tracks. Gregory was in his chair, but not at his station, he was turned around, his jumpsuit open and one hand was pinching a nipple and the other was whomping away on the fattest black dong that Ken had ever seen! And he was murmuring, "Ken, Ken, God, Ken, I...." And that was when he saw Ken standing there looking at him. "Fuck!" He said and made a motion to cover himself, but his hand wasn't as long as his prick. He had to use both of them to cover himself. And his eyes, they were looking right at Ken's tented briefs pointing at him. That gave Gregory the courage to smile. "Looks like we both got the same problem here." Ken smiled back. Gregory with his open jumpsuit, hard cock and smiling at him...God, it made him just want the guy more! "I guess we do." He admitted. "Too much time aboard ship." "Too much time." Gregory agreed. Ken hesitated, plunged on. "Only one other person aboard the ship, I guess it's not too big a jump to start fantasizing about...about such things." Gregory's smile vanished but his face became more accepting, somehow. "Come here." he said. "I mean, I heard you when I came out here and you were saying my name and...." "You know something." Gregory stood up, his hands away from his crotch, his massive, dripping organ's glans wavering and slavering like a hunting dog's muzzle. "You talk too much." Ken kept talking as Gregory came over. "...and so it's only normal, I think, that a fantasy would fasten upon what it can get instead of what it can't, so after all, everyone has a few aberrant points to their personalities and..." And Gregory was upon him and shut Ken's mouth by clamping his own on over it. That huge pud dug into Ken's wet briefs and ground against his groin and lower stomach. The big arms went around him and the kiss was sincere and then some! Ken hesitated only briefly before he returned the kiss. Like he'd been about to say, a short and heated sexual interlude during their trip home didn't have to destroy the mission or even their friendship, as long as they kept it all above-board and guilt-free and...and even he admitted this was not the time and place to talk about this. His cock felt like it was about to blow! Oh, thank God! He could do this, come like crazy and then with his load eased, his thoughts would quiet and then he could try to mend their social relationship enough to survive the next year.... Gregory's kisses ran down his chest, quickly, hungrily. Like he wanted to stir Ken's passions (as if that were needed) but also wanted to get to it fast. When his lips hit the briefs, he licked at the wetness, sucking Ken's juices out of it, and then he yanked down the briefs and gulped Ken down. And like lightning striking, Ken was struck by his climax. His ecstasy went up, up, up, up.... "Hello!" came a voice inside him. "Uh, uh?" Ken guttered out. He was right on the verge of climax, but not any further, like he'd been frozen in that one instant before orgasm. He was jolted his joy, dazzled by his delight, pounded by his passion, but it didn't release itself into ejaculation! "We must speak to you quickly, for your body cannot withstand this degree of electrical overload more than a few minutes." "Minutes?" whimpered Ken. "We have been striving to contact you and your mate since you landed on our planet. We are a group mind, any cluster of which is what you would term an individual. I am the cluster inside of your body, consisting of ten to the eighth units. You may think of us as a cluster of self-aware viruses." "Viruses?" gasped Ken. Gregory was watching his reaction with a mixture of satisfaction, awe and frustration. He had brought Ken to climax, hadn't he? So where was the pay-off, where was the end of it? "Our cultures have no need to battle." the voice assured Ken. "We can limit our numbers so that any host is not discommodated beyond its ability to compensate. We cannot communicate unless we can exchange strands of..." The voice hesitated while Ken grimaced and begged his traitor body to release the long-withheld flood. "...of RNA." "How do...you do...that?" Ken grunted. Gregory looked at him quizzically. "Fluid transmissions from one host to another. For you humans, this is best done by your means of reproduction. For this reason, we have been stimulating and redirecting your mental processes to guarantee that you and your mate will exchange your own genetic material as frequently as possible. This will permit my counterpart in your mate's body and myself to speak as we must in the days to come. Much remains to be worked out between our kind and yours, and between ourselves we must discuss things. I have prepared my report to my counterpart, and when I end this conversation, I shall release it into your mate along with your own generative fluid." "Uh, guh-uh-uh!" Ken felt a growing roar in his ears, a redness in his vision. "I must end this conversation now. Enjoy your fluid exchange with your mate." And with that, the alien released its hold on Ken's climax, and Ken finally, finally, after so many days of denial, exploded in his ejaculation. Gregory choked and sputtered as Ken sprayed his wads into Gregory's mouth. When Gregory started to pull away, Ken grabbed and held Gregory's mouth onto his cock, made him drink it, drink it all! Even his climax, he realized, the alien was exerting this all-important influence. It couldn't let Gregory spew out any of this, the alien might lose important data! "Ah-gah, agh-ah, ah-ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" Ken moaned and he was done, and Gregory was sputtering and coughing and when Ken let go, he jerked away with an air of disgust. "God damn it!" He snarled. "What the hell was that? You take something to keep you from coming? And then you make me drink that shit! What the fuck is wrong with you?" "Your turn!" Ken gasped. He was dizzy, almost delirious, but Gregory must make contact with his own alien viral companion. Without that, it would all be lost! He knew that the alien had implanted these thoughts into his mind, but it didn't make the feeling any less sincere. And Gregory just smirked and said, "You're damned right it is. You do me right, you hear me?" "I will!" Ken panted. "I promise!" He got his lips onto Gregory's pud and clamped down tight. Gregory tensed, groaned, and was writhing inside Ken's hands now clasped to each of those brown buttocks. Gregory's hips thrust his dong in and out of Ken with a fury Ken couldn't have hoped to match. All he could do was hang on, keep his lips moist and tight upon Gregory's dun-colored foreskin, and let the big, black man discover the long, long, long hovering at the point of climax that he had learned. And let him hear the voice of his own contagion. He'd had no clue about his own duration of near-orgasm, but Gregory's went on for close to seven minutes. When he was released, Ken felt it, and he sucked for dear life. Gregory's jism overwhelmed him even so (no wonder Gregory had choked!), and come flooded his mouth beyond the point of containment, and he snorted, sneezed and jizz flew out of his nostrils, more followed it as he clutched for air, and still more poured into him, hot, hot, hot! He felt like a come-sogged mess by the time Gregory was done. Hot spunk had dribbled down his nostrils so much, it had splattered his chest. He dizzily wondered if he had to retrieve this, only to be assured that it was not needed, missing data could be resent with the next episode, when they would talk more. It was like the voice of his own conscience, this alien presence, like the thoughts were his own. "God! Damn!" Gregory's exhausted heaves of breathy words were more in wonder than in anger. "What! Happened!" "We seem to be carrying alien ambassadors back with us to Earth." Ken said. "Or an alien invasion!" Gregory expostulated. "We can't just turn them loose on Earth! They'd infect everyone!" "I don't think so." Ken said. "We have more than ample anti-viral medicines available." "I say we ought to take what we got in the medicine cabinet ourselves and end it all!" "If they'd wanted to kill us, they would have done so by now." Ken pointed out. "We ought to at least hear them out." "Hear them out?" Gregory yelped. "You know how to hear them out, don't you?" "I know." Ken said and put his hand on Gregory's bare shoulder. "It means you and I do an awful lot of exchange of genetic material." "How many times you think you can handle that kind of exchange?" Gregory demanded. "I am damned well worn out by just one time!" Ken realized that the alien had come up with an idea, and had insinuated that into his brain. "There is another answer. The human penis exudes fluid in small amounts even with minor sexual play. More than enough to let the aliens speak with each other. They'll only need to send us into that violent climax when they want to actually talk to us." Gregory's own alien must have alerted him to the same idea. "So we get to spend as much time as possible sucking on each other, then when they want to talk, we get to ride the alien Tilt-A-Whirl so they can talk to us." "Yes." Ken nodded, more sure than he would have been had the idea truly been his own. Gregory considered this. "Well, one good thing. You keep this cock in your mouth, you won't be talking so much." And you won't be make snide comments, Ken though to himself. "All right. You have a deal." "I think my alien wants to talk to your alien." Gregory said, grabbing his cock. It oozed a bit of leftover jizz out of the slit in response. Ken looked down at his own cock to see a slender clear rope of fluid reaching for the floor. "I think you're right." he said. "We'd better let these two get better acquainted." "Just think of it as another visitor from Paradise." Gregory chuckled warmly at his little conceit. Ken figured they'd all four be doing a lot of getting better acquainted on the long ride home. THE END Comments, complaints or suggestions? E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM