I rub myself, unable to reach another orgasm so quickly, but I am still riding the waves of pleasure.

He picks up his pace and strength, and in no time, one of his hands is holding me by my breast roughly, as the other is holding me up by my hip as he moves me up and down on his penises.

“Mirror,” I say because I want to be naughty.

We both look at ourselves while he is entering me like this. We make eye contact. And he impales me even harder on him, and I’m turned on by what we are doing. His pleasure melts into my own, and soon he’s coming at the same time inside of me. He holds me close to him, then lays me on my stomach back down on the bed.

He inspects my anus with his finger. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s just a bit stretched, but it didn’t hurt,” I say.

He runs his hands over my bare shoulders and blows up and down and around my anus. I think of it like kisses, and it feels good. When he comes back up to my face, he blows on my ear and says, “That felt amazing for me.”

“I’m glad,” I say. “I can do this, but not every day.”

I think he’s surprised by my complete honesty, but after a few seconds of silence says, “I understand.”

Then I realize what he wanted me to say, and I hold both of his cheeks and look into his eyes. “It’s forbidden.”

He smiles then.

I’ve come to realize their word ‘forbidden,’ although it has the same meaning as in English, also means to do something taboo or naughty in the sexual sense. I hope now I’ve convinced him how I feel about anal sex.

CHAPTER 32

COMMANDER

I am called away from the bridge by my wife. This is very strange for her, so I quickly return to our quarters. She is at the desk crying.

I go to her at once and take her in my arms. “What’s the matter?”

She can hardly speak; she’s so upset.

I stroke her hair, trying to think of anything that could have happened to upset her. But I am at a loss.

Finally, after a few minutes, she calms down enough to speak, “I went to see the doctor because I hadn’t had my period, and he says….”

She starts crying uncontrollably again, and I continue to hold her. I wonder if I should speak to the doctor myself, but I don’t want to leave her.

“He says,” she stammers a little through the tears, “That I’m pregnant but that the baby won’t survive because its genetics are bad.” She bursts out in tears again.

“I am so sorry,” I say. I feel sad about this news too. “I should have taken birth control. I was under the impression we would not even be able to conceive a life between us.”

She looks up at me angrily. “My friend told me that it’s possible. If she knows, why wouldn’t you?”