“It’s just the way we show love and respect. You don’t like it?”
“When it comes to showing love I’m partial to kissing,” Perry said.
“Like Richard was doing this evening?”
“A bit more intimately than Richard’s technique,” Perry said.
“Show me,” Luna said.
Perry took a breath, leaned over, and lightly kissed Luna on the lips. When he pulled back, Luna responded by touching her lips gently with the very tips of her fingers as if amazed by the sensation.
“Do you dislike it?” Perry asked.
Luna shook her head. “No, but my fingers and palms are more sensitive than my lips. But show me more.”
Perry swallowed nervously. “Are you serious?”
“I’m sure,” Luna said. She moved closer to him and looked at him with those dreamy eyes. “I find you very alluring, Mr. President of Benthic Marine.”
Perry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down onto the white cashmere coverlet. Michael was in seventh heaven. Mura was the woman of his dreams. It couldn’t get better than this. He didn’t even mind Sart’s continued presence. The boy was in the pool, leaving him to enjoy Mura by himself.
Just when Michael was about to pass out from sheer delight, his rapture was interrupted by a knock at his door. He tried to ignore it, but finally staggered to the door, stark naked. He felt even drunker on his feet. “Who the hell is it?” he demanded.
“It’s me, your buddy Richard.”
Michael opened the door. “What’s the problem?”
“No problem,” Richard said. He tried to look around Michael. “I just thought maybe you might need some help, if you know what I mean.”
It took Michael’s drugged brain a few seconds to catch Richard’s drift. He glanced back at Mura on the circular bed, then back to Richard.
“Are you kidding?” Michael asked.
“No,” Richard said. He smiled crookedly.
“Mura,” Michael called out. “Do you mind if Richard comes in and joins us?”
“Only if he promises to behave,” Mura called back.
Michael looked back at Richard with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “You heard the lady,” he said with a sly smile. He opened the door wider and let Richard into the room. As the two men approached the bed Mura held up both hands.
“Come on, you two primitives!” she said. “I’d love to press palms with you both.”
The two divers exchanged a glance of appreciative disbelief before Michael climbed back onto the bed, and Richard struggled out of his satin garments. As Richard settled next to Mura, he said, “You people are pretty free with love.”
“It’s true,” Mura said. “We have lots of love. It’s our wealth.”
A short time later the two drunken divers were swooning with pleasure in Mura’s arms. It wasn’t sex per se, since in their drugged state neither was capable of consummation, but nonetheless they couldn’t have been more content.
Sart had observed Richard’s arrival from the far end of the pool. He was both attracted and repelled by Richard. Mainly, he was curious. After tiring of swimming he got out of the water, dried himself off, then walked over to the blissful threesome. Mura smiled up at him. She had her arms around both divers, who had fallen fast asleep.
Mura motioned for Sart to sit down on the bed. She’d been gently stroking both divers’ backs but was happy to let Sart take over with Richard. That freed her to concentrate on Michael.
Sart initially just stroked Richard’s back as Mura had been doing, but tiring of this, he began to improvise. First he rubbed Richard’s exposed arm and shoulder. Richard’s skin felt intriguingly strange to Sart. It wasn’t as firm as Interterran skin and had many curious, tiny imperfections. Sart transferred his attentions to Richard’s head, where he’d noticed a small, poorly defined, bluish red discoloration within the hairline above his ear. As Sart bent over to examine this flat blemish more closely, touching it gently with the tip of his finger, Richard’s eyes popped open.
Sart smiled at him dreamily and went back to his tender stroking.
“What the hell?” Richard cried. He knocked Sart’s hand to the side. With drunken clumsiness he leaped from the bed.
Sart stood up as well. He wondered if the mark above Richard’s ear was inordinately sensitive. Maybe he should not have touched it.
Richard’s sudden movement was enough to awaken Michael. Sleepy and dazed, he sat up despite Mura’s restraining arm. He saw Richard swaying by the bedside and glaring at Sart, who looked somewhat guilty.
“What’s the matter, Richie?” Michael asked with a slurred, gravelly voice.
Richard didn’t answer. Instead he wiped his hand over his head while continuing to glower at Sart.
“What happened, Sart?” Mura asked.
“I touched Richard’s blemish,” Sart explained. “The one above his ear. I’m sorry.”
“Michael, come here!” Richard snapped. He waved Michael away from the bed while walking unsteadily in the direction of the pool.
Michael got to his feet feeling giddy from the short snooze. He followed Richard. The two men staggered out of earshot. Michael could tell that Richard was major-league perturbed.
“What’s going on?” Michael asked in a whisper.
Richard wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was still glaring back at Sart.
“I think I figured out why all these guys don’t care if we make it with their women,” Richard whispered back.
“Why?” Michael asked.
“I think they’re all a bunch of queers.”
“Really?” Michael looked back at Sart. The possibility had crossed his mind at the gala when he’d seen so many men walking around arm in arm, but then he’d forgotten about it in the general excitement.
“Yeah, and I’ll tell you something else,” Richard said. “That little nerdy squirt over there has been rubbing my back and head. The whole time I thought it was the girl.”
Michael laughed despite Richard’s evident rancor.
“It’s not funny,” Richard snapped.
“I bet Mazzola would think it was funny,” Michael said.
“If you tell Mazzola, I’ll kill you,” Richard hissed.
“You and ten other people,” Michael scoffed. “But, in the meantime, what do you want to do?”
“I think we should show this little twerp what we think of his kind,” Richard said. “The guy had his hands all over me, for chrissake. I’m not about to let that pass without a reaction. I don’t think we should let any of these people get the wrong idea of our persuasion.”
“All right,” Michael said. “I’m with you. What do you have in mind?”
“First, get rid of the girl!” Richard said.
“Oh, no! Do we have to?” Michael questioned.
“Absolutely,” Richard said impatiently. “And ditch the long face. You can tell her to come back tomorrow. It’s important to teach this guy a lesson, and we don’t want an audience. She’d yell bloody murder and the next thing you’d know we would be dealing with a couple of those worker clones.”
“Okay,” Michael said. He took a breath to fortify himself and walked back to the bed.
“Is Richard all right?” Mura inquired.
“He’s fine,” Michael said. “But he’s tired. In fact, we’re both tired. Maybe exhausted is a better word. Plus we’re drunk, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“It hasn’t bothered me,” Mura said. “I’ve been enjoying myself.”
“I’m glad,” Michael said. “But now we’re wondering if we could put off any more palm pressing until tomorrow. What I mean is, maybe you should leave.”
“Certainly,” Mura said without hesitation. She immediately slid off the bed and began dressing. Sart did the same.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” Michael said. “I’d like to see you tomorrow.”
“I understand you are tired,” Mura said graciously. “Don’t worry. You are our guests, and I will return tomorrow if it is your wish.”
Sart cinched his braided rope around his waist and looked back at Richard, who’d not moved from where he was standing halfway to the pool’s edge.