Judas Unchained

It was one of those mornings where Mark hadn’t fully woken up, that moment of cozy drowsiness when you’re in a warm bed with the woman you love lying snuggled up against you. He moved his head fractionally, nuzzling Liz fondly. She pressed herself closer to him, then they kissed in a languid unhurried fashion. Hands stroked. He began to pull off his T-shirt. Liz rose up to straddle him, still wearing her negligée, the new one of semiorganic fabric that mimicked black silk. The way it grew translucent as her body heated and her movements became more urgent was a huge turn-on for him. She’d exploited that to the full last night, which was why he was so drowsy as dawn broke.

The enormously erotic sight of his wife’s delectable body straining athletically above him was wiped out by an orgasm that he was sure had an accompaniment from a choir of angels.

“It’s true,” he mumbled into the darkness sometime later. “Too much does make you blind.”

Close by, Liz giggled. Mark’s sight returned to show her lifting the T-shirt from his face. He smiled up at her in perfect contentment.

“Morning,” she said, in a very appreciative tone.

“Morning.”

Her fingers played along his lips. “I think you’re getting younger. I can barely cope with you like this anymore.”

Mark grinned complacently, though he wasn’t sure he could actually manage to do it again without some serious recuperation time first. The thing with Liz was that she really was as tremendously horny as she looked; and how many men could boast about a wife like that? “Takes two,” he assured her.

She gave him a quick kiss, and rolled off the bed. “I’d better go fix the kids some breakfast; the school will be wondering why I keep sending them in starving every day.”

“Right.” He was almost regretful. It would be nice to spend a whole day just lounging around in bed together. They hadn’t done that since Barry was taken out of the womb tank.

He took a while in the shower, then got dressed ready for work. The CST corporate-mauve sweatshirt with yellow sleeves went on easily enough; his green-gold trousers were a size more than he wore back in the Ulon Valley; they had a stretch-fabric waistline, too. Mark looked down at the way a small wave of his gut hung over the trousers. Must do something about that.

As if he ever got the time anymore. If anything his daily schedule had become even busier as soon as the Searcher had returned.

Sandy let out a happy squeal as he walked into the kitchen. She abandoned her boiled egg to run over and fling her arms around his waist. “Daddy! Daddy!”

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Hey, morning there, darling.”

“Hi, Dad.” Barry’s eyes were bright with admiration.

Sandy wouldn’t let go. Mark had to take her back to the table and sit beside her before she’d consider eating any more of her egg. “We didn’t come in to your bedroom this morning,” she said, her eyes big and serious. “That was right, wasn’t it? Mommy said we should leave the two of you alone; that you need a lot of grown-up’s sleep to make up for being so tired after saving us all.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s right. Thank you, darling. It wasn’t just me that helped the Charybdis mission, though.”

Barry smirked at his sister. “Grown-up sleep. Baby!”

“What?” Sandy asked with a hurt expression.

“You’re so dumb. Don’t you know what they were doing?”

“What?”

“Enough, both of you,” Liz said firmly. “Let your father eat his breakfast in peace.” She had a demure smile on her face as she put his breakfast plate in front of him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Vernon.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Vernon.”

Mark tucked in to his eggs, bacon, waffles, sausages, and tomatoes. A side plate of pancakes drowning in maple syrup, and topped with strawberries and a cone of whipped cream, were placed next to the big plate.

“To keep your strength up,” Liz said enigmatically.

“Yuk.” Barry pulled a face.

Mark tried hard not to smile.

Otis Sheldon turned up just as Mark was finishing. Panda barked happily as the pilot walked into the sunny kitchen.

“Otis!” Barry cried happily, and ran over. “Take me up to the assembly platform today. Please! Please! Dad keeps promising he will, but he never does.”

“Your father’s the man to ask. He’s in charge up there.”

“Daddy!” Sandy smiled worshipfully.

“Hi, Liz.” Otis gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Sit down. Need some coffee?”

“Thanks. Maybe a half cup.”

“What can we do for you?”

“Just giving Mark a lift out to the platform wormhole.” He glanced at Mark. “Did you check your message hold file?”

“Er, no.” Mark reached out with a black and gold virtual hand and removed the zero-access restriction. He’d closed it up last night to give himself some uninterrupted privacy. A priority one file was sitting in his folder; sent from Nigel Sheldon. Oh, Christ. “Thanks, Otis,” he said sheepishly.

A maidbot delivered a cup of coffee to Otis. Mark reviewed the message, and groaned in mild dismay. “You’ve only just got back.”

Otis shrugged good-naturedly. “That’s the job.”

“What’s happening, boys?” Liz asked.