Title: On the Beach
Author: Empress Piett      donnernblitzen@gmx.net
Characters: Our Admiral and one of the Admiral's greatest
admirers (not me, amazingly enough).
Summary: There was a mention in Hannahma's story of what
must have been some great sex. I thought this needed to be
elaborated on.

This is a smut sequel to HannahMa's stories"Be Enjoyed" and
"Piett's Captive".

Disclaimer: none of it's mine except the dirty ideas. I
stole Piett from George Lucas, and Kiremm from Hannahma.
Now, of whom am I more afraid? :-)
Feedback: Well, Hannahma and Narayana have already seen
it. If anybody ELSE actually reads it, I want to know about
it!
Rating: X! Hahahaha. There's oral.

>>>>>>>>>>
"I have requested leave," he said. "We'll go to a rest
planet. There's nothing there but a base and some beaches.
We'll have some time, you'll be out of danger. We'll be
together. No one can hurt you there. I won't let anyone hurt
you."

He was as good as his word. Within a week his shuttle landed
us on Rima, and from the little Imperial garrison a land
roller took us a long way down the coast. There followed
days of lazy loafing in the warm sun, wonderful lovemaking
before the evening fire, dawn walks by the sea.
>>>>>>>>>>

Stars are cold and lonely. What a magical thing it is when
a star becomes "the sun", and you can walk around freely on
ground warmed by its rays. When I walked down the shuttle
ramp to be greeted by sunshine on my face, I felt myself
beginning to heal.

As the officers of the garrison attended to our
requirements, they glanced at me with nothing but courtesy,
perhaps wondering whether I was a new bride, a mistress who
needed to be impressed, or somebody else's wife. It
wouldn't occur to them that I was a captive Rebel being
treated to just a few days' relief from what had become
accustomed hostility! It felt at first as if they were
ignoring me, but they weren't-- it's just that they weren't
/guarding/ me, and that was the sort of attention I had
become used to. With this refreshing anonymity, I might
almost be a free person. I might almost be here under my
own free will.

I had never seen Admiral Piett's face in sunlight. He was
too pale, I observed dispassionately. Of course he would
be, when all his time was spent in artificial light. I must
be too pale as well. He looked at me, gauging my reaction
to all this, and smiled at my obvious pleasure. His smile
made my heart warm even more.

Imagine it. A whole planet of clean air and beaches,
dedicated to nothing but the more leisurely conquests of
high-ranking Imperial officers. Well, it was a small
planet. Very small. When I saw the ocean I had the feeling
of being near a waterfall. The horizon seemed very near. I
had the feeling that the water must be draining over the far
side. But it was a real, working ocean, with gently-rolling
waves lapping a white beach. The sight of it wrung at my
heart with old memories of other places, other beaches...

Nothing too painful. And my mind was very much on the
present and the man by my side.

I wanted to get my feet into that water.

A trooper drove up in a huge, lumbering, muddy-wheeled
land-roller, with a passenger compartment that looked like
seats perched on long pipes and not much else. My first
thought was: You're not getting me into that thing. "What
is /that/?" I demanded.

"It's an XK-2400, ma'am," the soldier said, with obvious
pride.

That was the first time anyone had called me 'ma'am' since
my capture. I said, "Is that what we're riding in?"

"The seats are clean," he assured me. "We cover 'em up when
we go wheeling."

"Oh," I said. That hadn't been what I was worried about.
There was a low-hanging step for climbing up, but when I
hesitated Piett picked me up by the waist and swung me up
into a seat. It made me gasp with delight to be handled
that way, to feel his hands on me with such casual
roughness. So, I was not the only one whose spirits were
lifting as suddenly as a bird taking flight, in this warm
and sweet-smelling place! I watched him as he climbed up to
sit next to me. He braced a gleaming boot against one of
the bars, which seemed, now that I saw him do it, to have
been put there for that purpose. "You've been in one of
these before," I said.

The soldier offered, "I can get the speeder if you want."

"That's all right," I said.

Then he started off at medium-high speed over a pair of
dirty ruts in the ground that had no right to be called a
road, with the wheels finding every bump and dip and tossing
me around appropriately.

Piett saw the problem and hauled me across his lap. I
snuggled in, with his strong arms around me, and his foot
now holding both of us steady. He turned his face to me,
his mouth at my temple. Then the teeth-gritting ride became
something a little different: I was comfortable and then
some, and I decided for certain that repulsor technology
must be banned. /This/ was the way transportation should be
done. "Andries," I whispered, but I wasn't sure if he
could hear me. The wind took my breath away.

It wasn't long before I could no longer see the garrison
behind the hills, but it seemed we had gone over the short
horizon at least twice before we stopped at a cabin and
climbed down. It stood just at the edge of the beach, only
twenty or thirty meters from the water.

The land-roller dumped off our baggage and accelerated away,
leaving us alone, for all intents and purposes, in the
universe. There was the cabin, with tall, succulent trees
swaying above it, dunes of bluish grass surrounding it, and,
only twenty meters away down the sandy slope, that glorious,
tantalizing blue ocean. I looked at Piett, he looked at me,
and I felt the moment: limitless, endless. I wondered how
much time Piett had planned that we could spend in this
place, but he hadn't volunteered it and I hadn't asked him.
It might seem unusual to not want to know, but I truly
didn't. As long as I didn't know-- I could pretend it was
forever.

I wanted to kiss him briefly to thank him for this, but I
ended up losing all sense of time and place again, standing
in his arms being kissed as if such a thing would never be
allowed again and we had to make the most of our last
opportunity. I gave him my mouth and suggested all sorts of
delicacies with the rest of me, delighting in his hands on
my back, the warmth of his face blending with the warmth of
the beating sun. I know that sun had moved by the time we
parted. "Well, this is not getting us anywhere, is it?" he
said. We still stood where the land-roller had deposited
us, with our satchels at our feet. "You'd better do
something, or you'll get sunburned."

What a pleasant little worry. How long had it been since I
had to worry about something as nice as that?

"That sun seems to be moving as we speak," I said, shading
my eyes to look up at it.

"It hasn't moved at all," he said.

"No," I said, "I'm sure it has--" then I realized what he
meant. "The sun's position, relative to us, has moved," I
said severely.

"The days are very short here," he said, smiling.

We looked at each other again. We had come down here to
"rest and relax", in other words, have sex as often as
humanly possible or more. But the best benefit was that
simple wasting of time. Not every word must have deep
meaning or serve a purpose. There was time to waste a few.

So we kissed again. Like old friends. Just as if we had
every right.

Then I said, "We should go inside." I didn't say: because
I have to use the facilities. I picked up my satchel. At
the door of the cabin I set it down again, and held my arms
away from my sides, the easier to be picked up. "Won't you
carry me across the threshold?" I invited playfully.

He shook his head and picked up my satchel along with his
own. "Another time," he said. "In a better place."

I followed him into the cabin, my mind in a whirl as to what
that could mean.

It was a nice-enough little place. The interior was
Imperial standard campout-- grey, hexagonal, waffled. A
couple of beds, a galley, closets, and a view through the
six-sided windows that was wonderful enough to make up for
everything else. I went into the 'fresher and found an
interesting surprise on the wall. Previous occupants had
turned the back of the door into a message board with a
truly charming theme. /Captain, you are the best, Alta/
said one. /Commander, I am yours to command, Miio/ said
another. /Governor, thank you for the good times, Jen/ said
one. I read through these little tributes, agreed with the
general theme and began composing one of my own. There
wasn't a single /Admiral, (clever compliment here)/ one up
there yet, but I could take care of that! With the handy
stylus some thoughtful lady had left on a ledge. And sign
it with my real name-- Kiremm.

I went out in best of spirits, wearing the severe,
very-decent bathing suit that Imperial Travel had provided
me. Piett wasn't in the room; I looked about for him and
discovered him outside, buttoning himself up after peeing on
one of the trees.

I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from shouting
with laughter. That wonderful tradition. Marking his
territory! That awful, boorish habit, practiced by men on
every land since aeons gone-- possibly just to make women
feel superior. It had to be put up with, just because it
did; and I had been allowed to witness it, just once. My
delight was beyond bounds. It made reality feel that much
more real.

I waited a polite beat or two before going out. Piett came
up the porch steps to meet me, and I was rewarded by his
look of surprised admiration. I grinned and swayed my hips,
then laughed and ran toward the water. "The ocean,
Andries," I called back at him. "I have to put my feet in
it, now! Change clothes and come down!"

"I will," he called, then stayed where he was.

The water was nicely bathtub-warm, and smelled fresh and
salty. There was a good wind whipping my hair around, but
it was warm. Perfect. Perfect in every detail. I loved
the water-- did Piett know that?

He hadn't changed clothes, but had followed me partway down
the sand, and stood there watching me. In his tailored
uniform and glossy boots he looked completely out of place
against the sand, sun, swaying trees, drifting clouds in an
azure sky-- and therefore highlighted for what he was. The
sight gripped at my heart.

I had thought I couldn't wait to get in the water, so I had
dived into the water; and now that desire was suddenly over
and my attention was all back with him.

I slid back into the waves and turned over lengthwise a few
times, coming to rest on the wet sand, arm over hip
seductive-mermaid fashion, and laughed at him.

"Like the water, do you?" he commented.

"Join me," I said. "You must get out of those clothes. I
spend most of my time with you trying to get you out of your
clothes, don't I?" It made me smile, remembering our very
first encounter, that now seemed years ago and yet still
brand new. What had worked then would work again, and would
be delightful here in the sun and wind. But he agreed with
me, and turned to climb back up the short rise to the cabin.

I watched him go. He was just as good to watch from the
back as from the front. You can tell, without needing to
remove the clothes, who has muscle tone and who doesn't.
Piett walked with authority and grace. And I smiled to
myself.

There was little surf, and I saw no evidence of any change
in tide. I lay down in a place where the water lapped at my
body. I could have gone to sleep in the sun. It gave me a
sense of well-being and made me drowsy.

"You can't do this very long," Piett's voice said.

I opened my eyes. He was back, having changed into white
trunks and a shirt open at the neck, and I stared at him
like a besotted idiot. He was absolutely beautiful.
Looking this /ordinary/, he was even more beautiful, simply
Man. Yes, just a man, like one who could be a friend of
mine, or someone I met at a restaurant, or even one of the
earnest, laid-back Rebel fliers or technicians whom until my
capture I'd begun to think of as my family.

That's what we were now. Not a captor and a captive. Not
an Imperial admiral and a Rebel prisoner brought up from the
brig-- nothing like that. Just a man and a woman under the
sun.

He knew it. I could tell. He had realized this long
before, and rather than conferring it like yet another act
of munificence, he allowed me to discover it on my own.

I loved him even more for that.

He demonstrated the change now, in a practical way. He
dropped a couple of beach blankets on the sand, and produced
a bottle of sunscreen. "You didn't listen to me before," he
said severely. "You'll burn to a crisp in a very short time
here." He knelt down and began rubbing the sweet-smelling
lotion into my shoulders. "The days are short, but the sun
is merciless."

Oh, his strong hands felt so good. I had been drowsy
before, but now I was languid, and yet on fire not from the
sun, and my heart swelling at the sweetness of this.

"Only a fourteen-hour day," he said. "The sun seems to move
quickly."

After the few moments it took me to even shift gears to
thinking about the climate again. I was falling fast. I
murmured, "Really?"

"You get used to it." His words were a background for the
movement of his hands. "You settle into a routine here. If
we had anything to do, the short days would make it seem as
if we had very little time, but we don't, so they'll seem
endless, as if we have forever."

"Forever would be nice," I said. I had determined not to
demand anything of him, and that was the closest I had
gotten yet. It was accidental.

"Mmm," he agreed, just as thoughtlessly.

He took off his shirt and swam with me. We went out far
enough for a good view of the curving beachline dotted with
trees, the expanse of the ocean and blue sky. It was clear
that we were the only human beings in the galaxy. By the
time we swam back again, the sun was already sinking toward
the horizon.

The sunset was spectacular. We rolled up in the beach
blankets to watch it. Piett opened his legs and I sat
between his thighs; he put his arms around me and I snuggled
there, content in every possible way. The sky turned to
streaks of orange and red on the horizon, with rich, glowing
purple sky above us. Piett's hands moved to my breasts,
turned hard and purposeful, crushing me against him, and I
leaned back on his shoulder, turning my face to nuzzle my
mouth under his chin, feeling his heartbeat under my lips.

His hands made me insane. My nipples turned hard inside the
swimsuit, aching at the frustration of fabric between me and
his teasing fingers. I had nothing to touch in return but
his hands. I needed to move-- and when I did I was
blindingly conscious of the hardness pressing into my lower
back.

He held me still, holding me between his thighs, and
continued the sweet torment of my breasts until I moaned.

When he could stand it no longer, he put me away from him a
little, looking for some entrance to the swimsuit. It was
behind my neck, a clever wire catch that had to be pinched a
certain way. I realized what he wanted, and moved to show
him, but he had already lost interest in that, deciding on
something else instead. He turned me around and lay me down
on my back on the blanket. Kneeling between my legs, he
moved the crotch of my swimsuit aside with one hand, but
instead of freeing himself in turn as I expected him to do,
he merely pulled my hips up into his lap. "What?" I
murmured in confusion. In that position I had to either lie
passively, or hold myself half-sitting up. I lay still.
His other hand was under my bottom, and keeping my swimsuit
pulled aside he brought his mouth down on me.

I almost screamed. I tried to sit up, but his hands pressed
me down, communicating his command to be still. I couldn't
be still. I shuddered, as the intensity, the unbelievable
intimacy, of what he was doing, overwhelmed me.

That was not so unusual a thing to be done-- but somehow I
had never expected it of him. That was just /not/ him-- was
it? But it was. And he did it well. He knew where I
needed it, and he gave it to me with his lips and rough,
exploring tongue. His fingers stroked me. I couldn't reach
any part of him, but I needed so badly to touch; I crossed
my hands over my belly, gripping them together for lack of
anything else to do, bracing myself, hoping I would live
through this.

His hand stroked me, holding the crotch of my swimsuit
aside, the fingers of his other hand arranging my soft folds
just the way they pleased him best. He moved back a little
to look at me; then licked me, and again, and again. He
sucked me into his mouth, and pushed his fingers into me. I
kept my teeth together. The urge to cry out was strong, but
I wasn't sure what words needed to be said.

It was warm with his face there, his breathing on me. He
ate me up, slowly, as if I were a delicious treat he wanted
to savor. I managed not to move too much, but I was
whispering nonsense under my breath.

Despite my bravado I was still a little afraid of him, not
least because of how much I already loved him. We had lived
through some things together, but in a way we were still
strangers. I could scarcely bear the thought of him tasting
me: like sampling a foreign delicacy. Did I please him?

I did. I knew it. Deep down, I knew it. I pressed the
back of one hand to my mouth. Be still, woman, I told
myself.

As if a timer had run out on my consciousness. I had
protested, reasoned with myself, enough. At one moment not
marked by any fanfare my mind simply went blank of all that
foolishness, and I was just a woman, lying on my back on
warm dry sand, looking at the stars twinkling above me,
ripples of unaccustomed pleasure tightening my flesh-- the
man kneeling over me, feasting on me like a monstrous beast,
making love to me as if he were my devoted conquest. /Let
it be so,/ I whispered aloud, then hoped he hadn't heard me.

I felt his teeth. He stroked me with his teeth, the hard
surface against the most sensitive part of my flesh--
deliberately, I thought, to let me know how much in his
power I was. If he bit me, I would scream in agony. If he
continued as he was, I would die of unbearable ecstasy, and
all I could do was wait, breathing, quivering, for his
decision. I was at his mercy as I had /never/ been before--
even when I had been in a holding cell in his ship where he
could kill me by saying a word.

He was in tune with me. It was the most deliberate,
coldblooded manipulation of my senses that I had ever
experienced. He was feeling all my ecstasy, gauging it,
bringing me to climax on purpose.

I knew what he wanted-- for me to give myself up right into
his mouth. Insecurity made me bring my hand down to touch
his hair, and he gripped my wrist and held it steadily.

I cried out, "Oh, sweet burning stars!"

Indeed, they were out, shining clearly, and I'd been
watching them for what seemed like hours and not seeing
them. And I came. I couldn't move-- my mind, my body was
failing from overload, my loins exploding with unbearable
heat, tingling shocks shooting through my limbs. Then
slowly, slowly, relaxation flowing all through me like warm
honey, from his mouth to my fingertips, clear down to my
toes, and then I lay so still, just reveling in it, that I
could have been taken for one dead.

Piett left me, rose up a little to watch me. His hand
stayed there for another moment, soothing me with its
presence. The look on his face almost frightened me, so
deliberate. Almost offended me, as if I were in some clinic
and he was the doctor, who had done some procedure to me and
now waited to see whether it had taken well.

I tried to curl up; he wouldn't let me. He came up to lie
full-length next to me.

"Do I smell of woman?" he wanted to know.

"Yes," I said.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"No," I said.

He laughed, stroking my hair back from my face. "Of course
you wouldn't think so."

"Andries," I said. "Oh, mercy--"

He must be dying of it-- he was as hard as stone. I could
feel him against my leg, hot, straining against me, needing
to be inside me. I couldn't find strength to move.

"The sand's already inviting itself up here," he said,
half-rising to brush off the blanket, not that that would do
any good. "I've never liked that 'sand' idea." He went on
talking as he picked me up like a child. I was quivering,
exhausted as if I'd been running for hours. I put my arms
around him, turned toward him to make myself easier to
carry, but that was all I could find strength for. Up the
porch steps he went, and into the dark interior of the
cabin. At the door Piett stood me on my feet to brush me
off. The catch at the back of my neck still frustrated
him. "Can you open this insane thing?" he asked, sounding
angry, and yes, I lifted both arms and loosened the catch,
and stripped out of the suit.

"Bed," I whispered.

"Shower," he said, but then didn't carry out that threat.
He brushed my body off with my suit and his hands. "I said
I didn't like sand in my bed."

I lay down on the bed, watching as Piett pulled off his
shorts. I couldn't help gasping at sight of him and I
wanted to touch him. He allowed that for only a moment, as
it seemed only to make his agony worse, then he pushed me
back on the bed and entered me without any formality.

The last time had been for me-- this time wasn't. This was
hard and fast, the violent sort of pounding that men like,
and it was over quickly. I didn't need any more. I was
already walking a tight wire of arousal. I started to
orgasm before he did. With rapture bursting through my
body-- I was startled and pleased when he dropped his
forehead to touch it to mine. His seed spurted into me,
taking what was left of my strength, leaving complete peace
behind it.

That intimate gesture had impressed me more than all the
rest.

I held him so he wouldn't roll off me. Even when he
wordlessly offered to relieve me of his weight, I wouldn't
have it. I liked the feel of him crushing me beneath him.
I liked the feel of his penis softening inside me, and I
held very, very still.

"I don't believe this," I whispered.

"You're all right?" he wanted to know, concern in his
voice.

"I'm so much more than all right," I said. "I'm more all
right than I've been for months. Thank you for all this."

He breathed a laugh. "Sweetheart," he said, in a tone of
reproof. "You know who is whose devoted servant-- here, at
least."

"Yes," I said. "That's what I'm thanking you for."

But I was his despite what I said, and I smiled in the
darkness.

"Go to sleep," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," I whispered. And in a little while I did go to
sleep, comfortable in his arms.