Date: Sun, 5 Jan 2014 13:32:34 -0500 (EST)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Saltlickers

				SALTLICKERS
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     The airboat skimmed over the water filled with so much weaveweed that
all I could see was a single gigantic, greenish-blue sponge over which we
sped with easy grace. The weaveweed covers every bit of open water on
Gresmore and there's a lot of open water on this soggy, humid
world. Everything that isn't swamp on this world is deeper water, and the
few bits that stand high enough up out of the water to make land a man can
build a house on are far and few between. Me, I was clinging to Haverman's
leg, sitting on my knees to one side, balancing out our load of salt on his
other side. I was clinging because the difference between an airboat at
full speed and a bucking horse is that the horse is less likely to throw
you out at any second. Haverman sat in the middle seat and guided the
airboat through the near-trackless waters with an experienced carelessness
that I could only watch and envy. My study of the big man wasn't mere
admiration, though, I was here to watch him and learn.

     My uncle owns a wide tract of this muck, a plantation, as it were, of
Gresmore jewels. The Gresmore jewels aren't technically jewels when you get
down to it, but they're thumb-sized ovoids of colored, translucent gunk,
think amber in other colors. The Gresmore jewels were made by the natives
of the planet in their burrow-cities, and owning the land meant my uncle
had exclusive trading rights with the natives for the jewels they produced,
manufactured, blended, or exuded from their armpits or farted out their
asses, however the hell they made them. They weren't true jewels, but their
chemical makeup was such that mankind still couldn't duplicate them, and
when rendered down, they formed the basis for all kinds of medicines.

     The natives were called saltlickers for a very good reason, they would
trade humans only one thing for their jewels. Salt. Not just any salt, but
various blends and flavors. If just taking the salt out to the nearest
native burrow-city and handing it over were all there was to it, you
wouldn't need men like Haverman for your intermediaries. And becoming a man
like Haverman was my best hope to earn enough to stake out my own tract of
Gresmore

     Not that being like Haverman wasn't something to dream about. Haverman
was from Kligsdom, a world of 1.7 gravities and weak men couldn't even
stand up there. Centuries of mankind living there and genetic selection had
produced a man among men. Imagine the strongest man you've ever seen
(outside those freaks you see posing on stage, that is), then expand that
man by 50% in all directions. Kligs are between eight and nine feet tall,
and when they flex, their biceps aren't orange-sized, they're honeydew
melon sized! The leg I was holding onto was the size of a tree trunk,
nearly a foot in diameter, and felt as solid and immovable. I held it the
same way and for the same reason as a drowning man holds onto a piece of
the ship's mast off a sunken ship, and it was ferrying me safely along the
same way.

     "Coming up on the saltlicker's village." Haverman said to me. His
large, oval face (oval sideways, not lengthways) was adorned with a thick
thatch of dark brown hair on top and a circle of mustache and bushy beard
on bottom. The beard didn't cover the area from his temple to about his
mouthline, and if it had been long and straight instead of curled and
bushy, it would have been called a Van Dyke.

     "Where? I don't see it." I said, looking over the featureless
terrain. Spongey greenness everywhere, that was what I saw.

     "Over there." he pointed and I followed the line, just picked out a
low area above the greenness.

     "Uh...I see it now." I said.

     Haverman just snorted. His attitude about having me along was like a
truckdriver asked to take his son along for the ride this time, I was
intruding on his solitude and his sovereignty and he didn't like it one
damned bit. "Now remember that the saltlickers are an intelligent
race. Just because they're smaller than us and we don't understand them
doesn't mean they aren't intelligent. Everyone treats them like they're
animals, and they're not! Long as you remember that, you'll be all right."

     I remembered what little I knew about the natives, called
"saltlickers" by people like Haverman. They were about the size of a
medium-sized dog, and in shape they were like bats, only they didn't have
wings, just a sort of skin that covered from the tops of their necks to
their wrists to their ankles and so on. They had a leathery sort of skin,
like a stingray, that let them swim around under the weaveweed layer with
grace and ease (I had seen videos of it). Their cities were a network of
underground burrows, and nobody had ever seen what they were
like. Speculation ranged from caveman crudeness to supersophisticated
methods of chemistry or bioengineering.

     Of course, we weren't there to study them, we were there to trade. We
got to their "city" and it was a big nothing from above ground. A series of
burrows, and a clear area where Haverman and I lugged our trade salt.

     I sat down on one of the crates when we had done and panted. It's so
damned humid on Gresmore, and physical labor made it even worse. You were
always on the edge of perspiring on this world, any exertion was enough to
make you spritz worse than a fountain! I had broken out in a wet sopping
mass and Haverman was soaked through his own clothing. Both of us wore only
a t-shirt and shorts and, of course, knee-high rubber waders. I swear,
those waders made things worse, not better, your skin couldn't breathe
inside it!

     "What do we do now?" I asked.

     "Wait until they come up to trade with us." Haverman didn't seem in
any hurry. He was peeling off his waders, and I was quick to do the
same. Haverman followed with his socks, as did I and he waggled his toes in
happy appreciation of their newfound freedom.

     "So when do they come up to trade with us?"

     "They'll be along any second." Haverman assured me. "Relax. Look at
the clouds."

     I did, they weren't thick enough to give us rain anytime soon, but
enough to get the humidity level too high for comfort, like I'd said. I
sighed, wondering if I was chasing some kind of mad dream here. Sure, lots
of Gresmore was still unclaimed, you could build anywhere you could afford
to live, but with mankind so thin on the ground here, you had to think
twice about building too far from civilization, not that the lands around
the towns were already claimed and....

     I felt it then, my toes being licked. For a moment I thought Haverman
was doing it, but then I looked down.

     Right into the eyes of a couple of saltlickers, they had come up and
were greedily lapping at my toes of my left feet, seeking out the heavier
sweat between the toes. Two more crept up and began to do the same on my
right foot.

     I looked at Haverman, startled, to find that he was far more popular
with the saltlickers already, he had nearly a dozen of them around him,
licking his toes, feet, and lower legs.

     "What are they doing?" I asked him.

     "They love the salt in your sweat." Haverman assured him. "Think of it
as sweetening the pot prior to the trade."

     "Well...all right." I said and tried to enjoy it. Not that hard, the
saltlickers' tongue was no worse than a human's tongue, soft and
silken. They were more prehensile than a human's, being nearly six inches
long (no wonder that head was so large in proportion to their bodies and
the mouth so wide, it had to be to accommodate that tongue), and they were
flicking and curling around and siphoning every dribble of my sweat from my
feet and lower legs. It was almost like getting a sensual massage, hot,
soft flesh stroking your body.

     Haverman pulled off his t-shirt and held it up over the
suddenly-eagerly upright saltlickers. They knew what he was about to do as
he took the t-shirt in both hands and held it over them and wrung it out.

     Sweat drained copiously from it and the saltlickers battled each other
to catch it. I quickly did the same and the saltlickers not fortunate
enough to get close to Haverman moved over to mine. I held it over their
heads and wrung my t-shirt, not that much poured out (Haverman really
poured out sweat compared to me, his larger body I guess) and the
saltlickers seemed disappointed, but they then moved in to start lapping my
neck and upper body. Other saltlickers were doing the same for
Haverman. His chest was thickly covered in hair, which held a bounty of
sweat beads for the hungry saltlickers.

     "When do we get to the trading?" I wanted to know as I raised my arms
to let them at my armpits. "This is fun and all, but when does the business
start?"

     "What's your hurry?" Haverman asked. "They'll keep this up until they
collect all they can from our bodies. The salt we brought with us is just
stored by them for later. They'll pay you for all the salt you can generate
for them from your body, don't worry."

     As if to illustrate, some of the saltlickers began to hand things to
Haverman. Gresmore jewels. Reds mostly (the most common variety) but some
were orange and a couple were yellow. "You see? The more sweat you give
them, the better the payoff. This is all mine, by the way, and any they
give you during this is all yours. So give them all the sweat you can
muster."

     "Now you tell me." I moaned. Saltlickers were handing jewels my way, a
few red ones, but no more. "Not even an orange one in the bunch!"

     Haverman snickered. "Guess this job really sweats out the
incompetents, doesn't it?" He had collected even a few of the rarest sort,
yellow jewels.

     That comment stung, though I honestly think he only meant to work his
joke when he said it. I said, "Well, then, I guess I got to give them
access to more of my body."

     "Go ahead. I still got plenty." Haverman raised his arms to expose his
armpits. More jewels, orange, were handed to him by the saltlickers who
were lapping at this new source eagerly.

     If I was going to get anything like close to Haverman's haul here, I
had to go for broke. The biggest source of sweat I had. My crotch.

     I peeled off my shorts and Haverman looked at me, grunted. "You don't
have your jockstrap on?"

     "In this weather?" I retorted. "Are you nuts?"

     "No, but you are. Have you thought about what saltlickers are going to
do to you without a jockstrap to block them?"

     "No." I admitted. "Guh!"

     Saltlickers were closing in on my genitals. Warm, soft tongues were
lapping at my inner thighs, which at least had some hair to hold on the
sweat which had otherwise drained off my body entirely. I got more jewels
in short order, and my first orange one! "Hah!" I said when the native
dropped it into my hand. "Orange!"

     "Good for you, kid! Better get on your hands and knees for them, so
they can lick out your ass for you. Lots of sweat in there, it's why I wear
a jock." Haverman was peeling off his own shorts, but he wore the vaunted
jockstrap, I saw a fully-loaded monstrous bulge but nothing more and then
he was displaying a pair of hairy globes to the saltlickers' attentions. I
hastily did the same. Draping myself over my box of trade goods (not mine,
my uncle's, I had wondered when he told me about it how I'd get my own pay
out of this for he hadn't mentioned a percentage, but now I knew), my ass
was getting their attention and then some.

     "Ah, ah, shit!" I gasped. The saltlickers were giving me a
tongue-ripping good time of a rimjob! They were lapping at my sphincter,
and their tips were probing at my anus. "Oh, man, yeah, do it, lick my ass,
lick my ass!"

     I heard Haverman grunting and knew he was getting his ass rimmed,
too. I threw a hell of a woody thinking about those tongues in that hairy
ass and then I gasped on my own accord.

     One of the saltlickers had a killer grip on my cock! I was getting
more than tongue-fucked here, I was getting a blowjob, too! "Ah, ah, shit,
yeah, collect some salt from there." I panted.

     "Hell, kid, is that saltlicker sucking you off?"

     "Yeah, God!" I grunted. "I didn't know they'd do that!"

     "Neither did I." Haverman agreed. "Hell, kid, they're shoving orange
jewels at you like crazy, now!"

     I was too lost in my joy to consider that. "Aw, aw, fuck!" I
moaned. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come!"

     "Come?" Haverman gasped out. "Man, that's more salt than they ever got
out of our sweat, kid! Spray it on them if you can!"

     I moaned and rolled over, the saltlicker at my crotch slurping
away. It took an effort on my part, an effort that was dazed and blurred by
my impending climax, but just before I got my rocks off, I managed to clear
my cock of the mouth and only had a couple of tongues around it when I
blew.

     Hot streams of jizz flew into the air and the saltlickers gibbered in
their eagerness, straining to catch the pearly squibs as they flew and
missing and having others lick it off their faces. I squirted again and
again, one of the most intense climaxes I'd ever had, and one of those
saltlickers seemed to have his tongue completely buried to the hilt inside
my ass and I moaned as my climax subsided. "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck!"

     "I don't fucking believe it." Haverman breathed huskily. "Green and
blue. Green and blue!"

     "Huh?" I looked at the pile of jewels the saltlickers had been handing
to me and I had made by the side. The pile now had a fair number of jewels
like nothing I'd ever seen before. Green gems and blue jewels. "Good God!"
I breathed. "What are we going to do?"

     "Do?" Haverman said. "Get another load out, kid. Hot teenaged stud
like you ought to be able to cork one out every half hour or so."

     I didn't deny that, but.... "What about you?"

     "We Kligs aren't like you Norm Humans in a lot of ways." Haverman
said. "One of them is, we only come when we're fucking. Nothing else does
the trick. Only when we're fucking. Call it a built-in reflex."

     "That sucks." I said. The saltlickers were licking my cock and it was
rising again. "There ought to be some way we can get you a piece of this
action." I'd gone from being Haverman's subordinate to outperforming him in
less than a half hour, I could afford to be properly sympathetic. "We can
pile the gems together and share them half-and-half."

     "Yeah, half and half." Haverman seized on the idea. "So get yourself
another hardon going."

     "Already rising." I bragged. "I've always been cursed with an
overactive dong, it's about time the fucker paid off for me." I
frowned. "Of course, the second time isn't nearly as heavy a load as the
first."

     I rolled back onto my knees, rested my elbows on the box, and let the
saltlickers work my butt again. Oh, man, they really had my ass stretched
wide open now! It felt like I was as relaxed back there as I could be,
and....

     I felt Haverman's hands grip my waist and then I felt a monstrous bulb
pushing at my ass. "What...what are you doing?"

     "Getting me some of those green and blues." Haverman grunted. "And
you're going to help me do it."

     "Uh!" I grunted as my expanded, relaxed ass allowed him to shove that
huge prong into my butt without much hindrance. "I guess that's fair."

     "Fifty-fifty split, kid." Haverman grumbled into my ear, for he was
laying across me. "And when a Klig comes, he comes hard."

     And with that, Haverman rammed his dong on into my ass, I just raised
my head back and howled!

     The saltlickers were gibbering like maniacs. The cacophony about us
was incredible, we were being mobbed by saltlickers, every part of my body
that was exposed in any way had a saltlicker tongue on it, lapping away and
my body was being exerted and sweat was pouring out of every pore under
Haverman's lusty thrusts into my body. We were generating one hell of a
salt festival for these saltlickers, and that was for certain.

     Haverman's big hands wrapped around me and he startled me by pulling
me backwards with him, he ended up on his knees, with me sort of wrapped
backwards around his body, his big arms holding me in place, and fucking up
into me. "Now when you shoot, you'll shoot high and hard." he growled in my
ear. "Come on, kid, let's see you spray these saltlickers for everything
they've got!"

     I rode Haverman's dong like that, his body was streaming sweat as was
mine, and the saltlickers were lapping away as they clambered over each
other to get at us. In the midst of all this excitement, this licking, this
gibbering, was me and Haverman, a hot young man (me) being fucked by a
massively muscled stud (Haverman) and being worshiped in mid-fuck by a
hundred or more happily licking natives.

     "Oh, God, I'm coming, I'm coming again!" I groaned. "Ah-ah-ah,
GAH-AHHH!" And to my surprise and delight, my second load was fully as
thick and rich as the first, thanks to being heartily fucked by this big
Klig hunk of a man.

     And Haverman moaned and said, "My turn, kid, my turn, hold on, I'm
going to have to pull out at the last instant, ah, huh, HUH-HUH,
HUH-UH-UH-HUHHHHHH-GHHHHH!" And on those last two syllables of ecstasy, he
put me back down onto the ground and yanked out his cock and shot his wads
onto my back and butt.

     The saltlickers moved in eagerly for the banquet of human spunk and
one of them was happily siphoning off the last pearls of my own spunk from
my drained penis, sucking me dry.

     Haverman fell back and the saltlickers swarmed onto him, for he'd
worked up a major sweat fucking my ass.

     When I'd rested a while and felt ready to try again and climbed onto
Haverman's body, the saltlickers were quick to guide his cock up into my
ass for me. They must be intelligent to realize that the only way to get a
load off of this hot, thick Klig cock was to shove it up my ass. I rode him
like a wild stallion and he groaned under me while I fucked myself on him,
I shot my wad onto his chest and neck and he retaliated by yanking his cock
and spraying my back a second time and I was taken down by the eager
saltlickers and licked thoroughly clean.

     By the end of that long day, we finished the trading of the salt we'd
brought for a decent pile of red and orange jewels, and happily bagged our
own bigger pile of reds, oranges, yellows, greens and blues. "I don't have
a clue what these new jewels will do yet." Haverman said. "But they're
bound to be the best damned thing the natives have the way they traded
them. And you and me are the exclusive supply of them as long as we keep
how to get them a deep dark secret. Understand?"

     "Fine by me." I agreed. Then I realized, "Of course, when I get enough
money, I'm going to want to stake out my own plantation, so I don't know
what you want to do about that."

     Haverman hesitated only a moment. "You'll need a foreman to help you
with any decent-sized spread."

     "I will." I concurred. "You know anyone who'd want the job?"

     "Maybe." Haverman said, not a single smile on his face. "But you'd
have to be willing to give me access to that ass of yours even when we're
not out trading for saltlicker jewels."

     "Willing? I'd insist on it." I assured him.

     Then Haverman smiled. As did I. My future on this planet was beginning
to look up.

				  THE END
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