Delivery Day - A new story from the Vixan Universe by Tony L. Gomes email: tlgomes @ mail dot com A New Story From Vix: Delivery Day, Part 1: Loni and Adona sit on stools at the kitchen bar drinking cherry juleps while the bright sunlight streams through the huge wall window. Outside, the Vixan sky is brilliant blue and cloudless. It's about 10 in the morning. The sun, Gamma Lyrae IX, is already high in the sky. Skycars flit through the morning air, this way and that. Vix's two moons, called Cygnet and New Bethel, can be seen high in the eastern sky. Above the western horizon, a stationary shining dot -- Metrostar, one of Vix's 6 orbital cities. Loni's apartment, on level 354 of Metroplex Delta, has an expansive view of the gleaming skyscrapers and bustling streets of Commercy, and the green hills and industrial parks of the Severn River valley, far below. Today is the day Loni is getting new furniture. On the huge sunny portico adjoining the kitchen, two deliverywomen from Palatial Merchandise are unloading their skyvan. The two women, one with shortish curly dark hair, and the other with a dull blonde ponytail, look about mid-30s in age. They wear identical blue jumpsuits from their company. Loni notices the deliverywomen aren't very tall - they seem not more than 5'11" - but they're strong and well-built. The women carefully set each piece of furniture on the faux-wooden floor of the spacious, sun-drenched patio. The blonde woman takes a rest from moving furniture. She dabs her forehead with a folded cloth and looks at Loni and Adona. "Which one of you is the gentleman of the house?" the woman asks, smiling. Loni gets up quickly from his chair. "That would be me." He smiles and extends a hand to the woman. "I'm Apollonia Bertling. You can call me Loni." Loni is 28 years old and 5'6" tall - about average height for a Vixan man. His body is pear-shaped - narrow shoulders tapering to a slender, taut waist, and hips much broader than his shoulders - also normal for Vixan men. His hair is near-black and feathered, and hangs to about shoulder length. His eyes are dark brown and very expressive. Medium-sized hoop earrings, about 3 inches in diameter, in fine silver, set off his tanned face. His black-lace blouse is skin-tight and one-shouldered - cut at an angle to fully reveal one bare shoulder, with a thin spaghetti strap at the other shoulder. It's a crop top and also bares a swath of about 4 inches of his taut, tanned midriff. A small silver ring glints at his navel. He's wearing skin-tight stretchpants, in black. The capri pantlegs are cut to end halfway down his calves. On his feet are pointed-toe black pumps with pencil-thin stiletto heels, 4 ? inches high. Capri stretchpants and stiletto heels have practically become the uniform of the modern Vixan househusband, particularly younger men in Loni's age group. These days, it's certainly Loni's norm practically every day at home. Loni wears a frilly half-apron, covering his hips and upper thighs. The fabric is delicate and brilliant white. It has dainty pockets and apron strings that circle around his slender, bare midriff to the back, where they're tied in a bow. This style of frilly white apron is typically favored by Vixan male waiters, domestic servants, and househusbands. From behind, Loni's very generous rear-end protrudes noticeably, the black fabric of his stretchpants emphasizing the considerable size and roundness of his buttocks. Around Loni's slender upper left arm is an armband tattoo, about 3 inches from top to bottom, consisting of interlacing vines and delicate flowers. It's Loni's Marital Tattoo. Every married Vixan man gets inked this way on the upper left arm, on his wedding day, to mark his new status. And each man is able to pick out his own design. These days, a man's Martial Tattoo (or "MT", as it's commonly called), is a lot more than a symbol. It's coded with an advanced optical recognition technology, which can access an immense wealth of information. So when any Vixan househusband walks into a store or restaurant or business, invisible light-sensors in the building detect exactly who he is, his name, his tastes in clothing, food and other products, his buying history, even his wife's income and bank account information. So he can buy things just by pointing at them! And the store staff instantly know his name and background, so they can cater to him personally. Loni looks at the blonde deliverywoman. The nametag on her uniform says "Susan." "Do you girls need anything?" Loni rubs his hands on his frilly white apron. "How about a couple of nice cold drinks?" "That'd be fantastic, sir," says Susan. Loni walks over to the refrigerator and gets two ice-cold bottles of mint iced tea. He walks back to Susan and hands the bottles to her. "Here you go, honey. Take a break now. It's a hot day," Loni says. "The temperature control in the apartment doesn't work too well out there on the patio where you girls are working." "Thank you, sir!" says Susan. "Give one to your work partner," Loni says. "What's her name?" "Kathryn," says Susan. "We call her Kat." Susan passes the other bottle to her curly-haired friend. Susan addresses Loni. "Do you gentlemen need help moving any of the pieces anywhere in particular?" Loni stood in front of the two deliverywomen, hands on hips. "Hey, it's very nice of you to offer," he says. "But I think we've actually got enough muscle over in the playroom today. I mean my wife Jenn and Adona's wife, Meg. The girls are in there watching the basketball game right now." "The Falcons are playing the Bluebirds today!" Adona loudly proclaims. He lifts his cherry julep glass in the air. "Go Falcons!" "Adona loves the Falcons," Loni tells Susan. He rolls his eyes. Loni had watched many a basketball game with Adona, both on the Hive and live at sports arenas, and he knew that Adona didn't have even a vague conception of the rules of the game. For Adona, being a basketball fan was all about socializing with women and seeing tall, leggy girls in short, tight-fitting shorts running around a court. Adona gets up from his chair. He approaches the blonde deliverywoman and shakes her hand. "I'm Adona. Adona Rickett," he says. "Pleased to meet you." "And you," says Susan. Adona is 27 and about the same height as Loni, maybe an inch shorter at 5'5". He's dressed somewhat similarly to Loni: He wears an off-the-shoulder top, peach-hued, with a frilly little elastic neckline that bares both shoulders without straps. The bodice of the top, below the ruffles, is skin-tight and ribbed. Around his left upper arm, his Marital Tattoo of delicate green vines and red berries. Adona's chestnut hair falls in gentle waves to delicate, pert shoulders. Big dangling earrings, a round, tan shape with an artistic latticework pattern, frame his facial features, which include a small nose and neatly-trimmed brown moustache. He's wearing light-blue jeans with legs cut to mid-calf, in the same capri style as Loni's pants. The jeans are made of a skin-tight stretch denim that clings to his broad, voluptuous hips and thighs, and his very generous derriere. They're low- rise jeans, too, so along with his crop top, they expose about 4 inches of bare midriff. He wears a white belt that calls attention to his slender waist, flat abdomen and wide hips. Since he's not in his own home, he wears no apron. On one wrist, he wears about 8 simple bracelets, all identical shiny metal hoops. On his feet, he's got pointed-toe pumps, like Loni's in style but in a dark beige, with the same 4 1/2 inch, pencil thin, straight up-and-down heels that are the norm for men of his and Loni's generation. Adona minces with dainty, stiletto-heeled steps back to his stool at the far end of the kitchen bar, on the side closest to the refrigerator. His hips curve widely outward from his slender, bare waist, and undulate as he walks. His substantial buttocks jiggles, packed into the skin-tight, light-blue denim of his capri jeans. Back at the kitchen bar, he pours himself out another cherry julep from the decanter. He lifts a little toy parasol from his glass and holds it close, between thumb and forefinger, with his pinky and ring-finger extended daintily. He twirls the little toy between his fingers. Some cherry julep juice splatters off the toy and onto a bare shoulder. The juice runs down his soft skin and it tickles. He squirms in his seat, shifting the weight of his thighs, and picks up a napkin from the bar. Carefully, he wipes the red juice off his shoulder. Adona crosses his legs and keeps playing with the little toy parasol, dipping it in his drink absently and licking the delicious cherry juice off it. He takes a compact holomirror from his purse, flips it open, and snaps out its stand so he can set it on the bar. With his face very close to the mirror, Adona carefully inspects his mouth and moustache for cherry juice. He touches a button to magnify the illuminated holographic image of his face. Now he could see every pore. Adona examines his face and notices a ripening blackhead on his delicate jawline. He shoots stealthy glances around the kitchen to make sure no one is watching. The coast is clear. It was time to get busy. He runs the fingertip of his middle finger back and forth, lightly over the sunken black bead. It feels ripe and perfect. It's embedded halfway in his skin. But it desperately needs to be squeezed. He looks furtively around. Focusing now on his magnified pores, Adona expertly positions the sharp fingernails of his two middle fingers, making a pincer to squeeze the bulbous, black bead until it pops. Its contents squirt out quickly like an oily worm escaping from a tiny egg. It's more than he expected, yellowish but with the familiar black tip. Success! Adona recrosses his voluptuous thighs and rocks the top leg intently. He kicks the pointed toe of his stiletto pump, again and again and again, gently into the wall of the kitchen bar. In the holomirror he notices other blackheads on his face, on his nose, his cheeks, around his chin, each of a slightly different size and readiness. He picks a ripe one higher up on his face, at the corner of his cheekbone. This new oily black bead beckons. He brushes his right ring finger over it, assessing its size and depth. He can feel the nodule crying out for his fingernails. What would its contents look like? He squeezes and the yellow worm-like contents, with its black tip, ooze out of his skin. "Adona!" Loni half-shouts, suddenly. "What are you doing over there? Are you watching the game on that thing?" "Nothing," Adona says. Loni's shrill tone makes him nervous and irate. "Seriously," says Loni, "with the way you're looking at that thing so closely, and knowing how much you adore the Falcons, I'd guess you were watching the basketball game on that screen. Right? Not squeezing blackheads." "Oh, fuck you!" Adona says under his breath. Now his face is red with embarrassment. He picks up the holomirror and snaps it shut. "Go Falcons!" says Loni sarcastically, lifting a fist. Susan and Kat stifle chuckles. "The Falcons sure are on a streak," Susan says. "They won their last 5 away games." "Yeah, but Heather Wells is on the injured list," says Kat. "They can't go too far without her lay-ups." Now Loni calls out loudly. "JENNIFER, SWEETIE? Would you girls come in here? The furniture's here!" "She's calling our muscle," Adona tells the deliverywomen, matter-of-factly. Just then, two very attractive, tall and broad-shouldered young women, wearing brief shorts and athletic shoes, step into the kitchen area. Both are young - early or mid 20s. Both wear form-fitting, sleeveless tank tops with the numbers and markings of a sports team. Both wear blue shorts that are quite short, displaying a lot of leg, and both have on white athletic training shoes without any socks. This further emphasizes the length of their legs. The girls obviously have firm, athletic bodies, too. "Oh, here they are," Loni says. "Yaaaaay!" shouts Adona from his barstool, lifting the little toy parasol high. Fortunately for him, he put away his holomirror and wiped his face just in time. Jennifer and Megan say hi to the deliverywomen. "This is my wife, Jennifer." Loni points at one girl, who is about 6'4" tall and has very fair, porcelain skin. The girl's red hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes are bright and noticeably blue. She has strong features that at the same time look young, fresh and girlish. Her physique is lanky, but very strong-looking, with powerful shoulders and toned deltoid muscles, showed off by the sleeveless "muscle shirt" she wears. The prominent breasts under her shirt -- Vixan women have breasts but they're non-functional, only a secondary sex characteristic -- are taut and firm. The girl's legs are probably her most dominant feature -- very long, solid and toned, smooth, porcelain-white, and bare from top to bottom. As she approaches the kitchen, the young girl's full lips spread and she flashes a dazzling white smile. "Hey, big girl," Loni greets her. "So how's the game going?" "It's 46-22, Falcons, second quarter. Allison Clark had an awesome start, and Dawn Paxton hit two 3-pointers in the last 5 minutes." "Go Falcons!" shouts Adona triumphantly, with one dainty fist raised. There's an emotional quiver in his voice. After all, whether he understood basketball or not, the Sidon City Falcons were his favorite team. He takes a gulp of cherry julep to celebrate their lead. "Yeah, right!" Loni says sarcastically and lifts his fist. "Go Falcons!" "Shut up, Loni!" Adona says, in a low voice but with some rage. "Cockhead!" Loni turns to Susan and Kat. He points to Jennifer. "Jenny, right here, is my muscle," Loni said. With the manicured fingernails of his right hand, Loni ever-so-lightly touches his right shoulder, which is delicate and bare. He lets his fingernails linger, playing lightly on the soft skin. "Right, Jenny?" Loni says, in a breathy, sultry voice. He says the words deliberately, pausing between "Right" and "Jenny". "Did I hear something about moving furniture?" says Jenny smiling. "I probably misunderstood what you guys said." "Very funny!" Loni says. "Jenny will put all the pieces exactly where I tell her to put them. Everything will go right in its perfect place. Right, Jenny?" "You're the boss," Jennifer says. "That's what we like to hear," Loni says, smiling. He looks at Susan and cocks his head to an angle. "Isn't she a dream? She's a modern househusband's dream!" Susan takes a swig of her iced tea. "And my friend Adona, here, he's brought his muscle with him, too, today." He points to Megan. "This lovely, strapping young woman is Adona's wife. Ms. Megan Rickett." "Hi," says the other girl, her dimpled cheeks blushing. Megan is about as tall as Jennifer, just as well-built, and has her medium-brown hair pulled backward into a ponytail, like Jenn's hair. Her eyes are green. Suddenly, Jennifer shoves Megan. "Yeah, she's real lovely and strapping, all right!" Megan says. "She needs a good strapping!" Megan shoves Jennifer back and the two young girls start slapping and hitting each other playfully, laughing. They grab each other's arms and are trying to put each other in wrestling holds. "Stop it, you girls, right now!" blurts Loni, urgently. His brown eyes look outraged. He takes a big stirring spoon from a kitchen counter and holds it up as a threat. "Don't. Play. In. The. House." Loni scolds, in his sharpest voice. The girls calm down their horseplay, still laughing, faces red. Jennifer punches Megan's shoulder. Megan smacks Jennifer one last time in the ribs before they finally stop. "Thank you!" Loni says, sternly. "Jennifer, how many times have I told you to restrict the girly-games to outside the house? Or go to the gym or the volleyball court. Or the tennis court. Or the rugby field or the boxing ring or wherever it is you girls want to play. But not in my kitchen! The kitchen's not for girly-games. Men are in charge here, all right?" "Do you girls play ball?" asks the curly-haired deliverywoman. "Volleyball," Jennifer says. "Does that count?" Megan asks. Everyone giggles. "Oh!" says Loni. "Does that count? Megan and Jenny's law firm belongs to a volleyball league. That's why you see them in their cute little sexy uniforms today. They play a game every Saturday." "An inter-office league?" asks curly-hair. Megan nods. "I don't know if you've heard of it. It's the Urban Sports and Activity Network?" "Yeah, USAN for short," says Loni. "It's actually a pretty nice league for professional girls in the city. A lot of the girls are architects, engineers, businesswomen. And a lot of lawyers like Jennifer and Megan." "Girls need to keep active," Adona says. "What we've found is what every married man knows. Girls need their playtime." Loni smiles at the two deliverywomen. The curly-haired woman, Kat, takes a long swig from her bottle. "You girls are lawyers?" she finally asks. Jennifer nods. "I've heard us called that, yeah. I've heard us called worse things, too." She smiles. "'Cause I've got this friend, Caitlyn, who was just in an accident last night," says curly-haired Kat. "She was at this night club and the parking lot was right outside. She gets into her skycar with her man-friend Jona and she takes off and the engine failed or something, and she fell straight down onto another car. With people in it. The cops came and cited her for driving while intoxicated." "Was anyone hurt?" Jennifer asks. "No one in the car they fell on was hurt," Kat says. "But Caitlyn's man-friend, Jona -- he hit his head bad on the windshield. He's in the hospital being checked." "Wow, I hope Jona is all right," Loni says. "The doctors need to Q-scan his head." "That's what they're doing on him now," Kat says. She looks at Jennifer and Megan. "I just wanted to ask, would this kind of incident be something for your law firm?" "That's the kind of case our firm doesn't do," Megan says. Adona, from his kitchen barstool, speaks up. "Jennifer and Megan's firm does corporate and municipal litigation. Infrastructure lawsuits, investment deals and stuff like that." "Yeah, our girls work on the high end," says Loni. "Complex litigation and business transactions. Your friend Caitlyn wants a personal injury lawyer." "Also a criminal defense lawyer for the intoxication charge," Megan says. "There could be a potential lawsuit against the skycar manufacturer for some defect," Jennifer says. "Even if they found Caitlyn was drunk?" Kat asks. "It could be," says Jennifer. "If there's an electronic defect. You said the engine may have failed. Caitlyn could still be found at fault for flying while intoxicated, if the facts back it up. But at any rate, it'd still be too small a case for our firm." "Gotcha," says Kat. "I wanted to ask," says Susan, addressing Jennifer and Megan. "Does that silver Halcyon 8000 out on the guest skypad belong to one of you? It's parked kind of close to the van. We'll need some more room to get some of the bigger pieces out." Loni turns to face Megan. "Megan Rickett," says Loni. His hands are fisted, knuckles on his hips, and he addresses Megan with a mock stern voice. "Is that your Halcyon 8000 out there, Ms. Rickett?" "I had to park there," she says. "I couldn't fit the Halcyon anywhere else. Jenn's Evanus is taking up the whole main pad." "Ohhh, you are so busted, Megan Rickett!" says Loni. He stands in front of Megan looking up at her with a serious face, striking a pose -- hands on his hips, head cocked to one side, leg splayed outward, the pointed toe of his high-heeled shoe raised insouciantly. He rocks the foot on its stiletto heel, this way and that, as if to say, "I mean business." Megan says, "Seriously, I -- there was nowhere else -- " "I'm going to charge you a parking fee of 10 Vpacs for every minute you keep your car on our pad, Ms. Rickett!" Loni says. Megan suddenly looks like she's being called a criminal. Loni laughs. "Look at that face! I fooled her. Just kidding, Megan." Jennifer, Susan and Kat are laughing at the funny scene. "Awwww," Loni says. "You're forgiven. This time. How about going out there now and moving your skycar, sweetie, so these nice girls from Palatial can finish their unloading process?" "On my way, Mr. Bertling!" Megan says, already running outside to move her skycar. "Adona," Loni says. "You didn't tell me you and Megan got a new skycar." "We got it like a month ago. Megan just loves it. She, like, says it's the best skycar she's ever driven." "Well that's good," Loni says. "Every girl should enjoy flying her skycar, right?" "Yah!" says Adona. "We don't want any accidents." He purses his lips and blows some air and looks at Kat. "Like what happened to your friend." Loni shifts his weight onto one hip. He eyes the two deliverywomen. "Ha ha! Girls are so easy to please. Just let 'em go buzzing around in their skycars, let 'em play with their gadgets and play their sports, and they'll do anything they're told!" "Yah!" says Adona. "It's a good thing men don't drive, isn't it? I would never figure out how to fly a skycar." "Nor would I," Loni says. "I'd never get off the ground." "Yah," says Adona. "That's why we have women." "I've heard they can be good for some things," says Loni. He brushes both hands on his apron. "Well, when I hear guys start talking about women," Jennifer says, "I know it's probably time for me to cut out and watch the basketball game." "Bye-bye," says Adona. "Have fun!" says Loni. "But don't forget you've got some furniture to move, out here, after the game!" "We got you covered, boss!" Jennifer calls out, heading to the playroom. "That's what we need," says Adona, turning to look at the deliverywomen. "We need women who know how to take orders!" Adona and Loni both laugh conspiratorially. "And it's not just about moving heavy objects for us," Adona says. "I mean, that's a small part of their job as women." "We need them to behave, especially at night," Loni says. "Especially when the lights go out!" The two men giggle energetically. "Especially, between the sheets!" Adona says, giggling some more. "Exactly," Loni says. "Right on, stud," says Adona, grinning. He and Loni giggle and slap their palms together in a high-five. "So do you girls have men-friends?" Loni asks the deliverywomen. "Husbands?" "I'm married," says Susan. "Ten years." "I've got a man friend," says Kat. "Six months." Loni chuckles. "Good for you girls," Adona says. "Well?" Loni asks. "Here's the important question. Do you follow their orders?" Susan smiles broadly. "Sometimes!" "You need to do it all the time," Loni says. "Especially in bed!" "That's right," Adona says, nodding. "You know, men are the Weaker Sex so we need a big, strong woman to do what we say," Loni says. With the sharp fingernail of his right middle finger, he lightly tickles the outer tip of his bare right shoulder. "That's what I'm talkin' about, Loni," says Adona. "Because we're just men. We can't help our desires. We fantasize. We go ga-ga girl crazy. Just like a bunch of 10th grade high school guys." "Right on, Loni," says Adona. "Just because we're married, and househusbands, doesn't mean we aren't as girl-crazy and horny as any ditzy little high school guy, with his hormones going wild, surrounded by a bunch of tall, leggy athletes at halftime at a volleyball game." "Or a basketball game," Adona says. "Or any game where the girls are tall, and wear cute little shorts and show off all their legs and bodies," Loni says. Loni and Adona cackle and high-five each other again. "Ha ha! With their broad shoulders and gorgeous muscles," Adona says. "And all those legs," Loni says, in a dreamy voice. "How tall is Jennifer again?" Adona asks. "My Jennifer is 6'4"." "Right on," Adona says. "How tall is Meg, again?" Loni asks. "You should know that. 6-3 and a half." "Speak of the devil," Loni says. Megan is at the front door. Her thick, naturally- highlighted brown hair is disheveled and partly out of its ponytail, with thick strands hanging over her face. Her tank top is partly untucked from her shorts. "What happened to you?" Adona gasps, horrified. "Come over here." Megan walks over. "Sit down there at that table," Adona says, sternly. He points over to the dining room, a big, curving tiled area a bit separate from the kitchen with floor-to-ceiling windows. Adona opens his purse, which is on the kitchen bar, and pulls out a brush and a comb. He pulls out a small bottle of detangler spray, too. He walks over to the dining room, his stiletto heels clack-clacking on the tiles. With Megan sitting at the dining room table, Adona holds the bulk of her dangling locks in one hand. With a flick of a delicate, braceleted wrist, he expertly pulls off the elastic "scrunchie" tie that holds her ponytail together. Quickly and carefully, he combs and brushes out Megan's thick, lustrous hair. He sprays it a few times with the detangler mist, and combs it out again. He sprays more detangler and repeats the process. Finally, he determines her hair looks neat and presentable. Holding the bulk of her locks in one hand, and with another flick of the wrist, he expertly maneuvers the elastic scrunchie back on her hair, and tightens the ponytail high at the back of Megan's head. The speed and deftness of his movements make it obvious to anyone watching that he's fixed her hair a thousand times before. "Now you're all fixed, babydoll," Adona says. "You know how much I like it when your hair is neat. With the ponytail pulled up high. And tight. Now you're my big, gorgeous volleyball player again!" Megan stands up to her full height. Adona looks up at his tall young wife. They're standing so close to each other now. After two years of marriage, Adona is still as infatuated with Megan's looks as he was when he first saw her. He locks eyes with her, notices how fine and perfect her skin is. "Hey, big girl," Adona says in a hushed, husky voice. "Your hair looks very sexy that way." Suddenly he feels as if the universe only consisted of himself and Megan. He softly half-whispers, "You know I can't resist!" Looking up at her, for a few seconds, Adona feels alone in the universe with his girl. The stars and planets move around them in ink-black space, far away, circling them in lurching movements, like an old-fashioned clock from 1000 years ago, like tiny flecks of brilliant light moving in concentric circles, making him dizzy, disoriented. His head floods, rushes with ideas from the many science documentaries he's watched on the Hive, about space and galaxies and matter and time and the universe. They're ten million light years from anyone. Just Adona and Megan, suspended in the vastness of space and time. She's so attractive! They're out there in the void, the universe spinning around them. Megan's height and her broad shoulders make him feel so vulnerable, so delicate, so protected. So male... He reaches up, puts his arms around her shoulders, inserts his tongue forcefully in her mouth and kisses her passionately. "Hey you two," Loni says. "Get a room, will you?" Susan and Kat laugh out loud. Adona suddenly snaps out of the spell. He looks up at Megan and suddenly feels anger. "You were bad today, girl!" he says. He grabs Megan's left hand with his left hand and lifts it as high as he can. With his dainty right hand, forming a stiff paddle with his fingers, Adona spanks Megan twice, surprisingly hard, on the back of her shorts. Susan and Kat look on from the kitchen and try hard to contain their laughter. Loni shakes his head in astonishment. "That'll teach you, Megan Rickett!" Adona admonishes his wife sternly. His face is red. "That'll teach you not to run off again without telling me where you're going, when you promised to help move Loni's furniture." "I won't do it again!" Megan says. "Besides, Jennifer hasn't even started moving the furniture yet." "Dammit, girl!" Adona's voice is quavering, but unusually bold. "That's Jennifer. We're talking about you!" Looking up at her, Adona shakes his dainty, balled fists, the shiny metal bracelets on his left wrist jostling around. He stamps one stiletto-heeled shoe on the floor for emphasis. "At least you could hivecall me, you big knucklehead!" "But I --" Adona looks up at his wife. "No buts. Did you repark the skycar?" "I had to fly all the way along the -- " "I said, did you repark the skycar?" "No," Megan smiles, squinting her green eyes. She motions with her hand through the air. "The car is still up there, flying around in the sky with no one in it!" "Dammit, Megan! I'm not fooling around!" He realizes his question was silly, and stares at her sternly, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration on his face. "I couldn't find another space near here so I had to fly to the municipal garage," she says. "And that's over by the Metropark on level 358. I parked in there and I took the lift back down and I ran back." "Hey, good for you, Megan," says Loni, with a sexy tone in his voice. "Keep those long, pretty legs in shape!" "Yeah, good for you," Adona says. "You got some exercise. That's wonderful. Arun through the Metropark. Now you and me are gonna have to walk to this fuckin' municipal garage to get to the car?" "I can run over there and fly it back down here," says Megan. "It'll take only 10 minutes." Adona walks back to the kitchen bar and sits down at his stool on the far end. He crosses his legs primly, and takes a long draft of what remains of his cherry julep. The drink is at room temperature now. He looks down and twirls the little decorative parasol in the glass pensively. Taking the compact holomirror from his purse, he flips it open and inspects his face. He tosses some brown hair backward to reveal his dangling, art-inspired earrings and bare shoulders. He shrugs his little shoulders and studies himself in the holomirror. With a napkin, he very carefully cleans some drops of cherry julep from his moustache. "Well, Meg," says Loni, trying to change the subject, "We're just chatting with these two nice women from the furniture store. Why don't you go back in the playroom and watch the rest of the basketball game with Jenny? I'll go in there in a few minutes and serve you girls something to drink and some special snacks. Hang tight, all right?" "What did you make, Loni?" Adona asks. "Hors d'oeuvres," Loni says. "They're sitting in the fridge." "Hope it's nothing too spicy. Megan doesn't like spicy food." "It'll be fine," Loni says. "Nothing too hot." "Spicy is not the same thing as hot," Adona says. "Megan doesn't like hot food much either, but that's another story. I like to experiment, you know? I use a variety of spices and a lot of totally cool seasonings that aren't hot. They're just, subtle, unusual tastes. But Megan won't eat something if it's too unusual. Even if something is not hot, if I use too many unfamiliar flavors -- coriander, cardamom, turmeric, cicely -- she won't eat it." "It'll be fine," says Loni. "That's why, if I make something like hors d'oeuvres, I just tell Jenny it's a special snack. That's what I call it. A special snack. Women are confused by words like hors d'oeuvres. If you don't tell them what it is, they never know." "Whatever it is, is it coming soon?" asks Megan. "I didn't eat breakfast this morning." Loni looks at Adona reproachfully. "Adona, honey -- your wife is starving, here." "We were so rushed this morning getting out of the house, I didn't have time to feed her anything!" "Oh don't give me this shit," Loni says smiling. "You were probably in the bathroom this morning popping your blackheads when you should have been serving your wife her breakfast." "Fuck you, all right?" Adona says, giving Loni an angry shove. "Go on, Megan," Loni says. "Go join Jenny in the playroom and watch the game. I'll be in there in about 30 minutes with your snack." Megan turns around and heads back into the playroom. As she nears the playroom door, Loni lets out a loud, flirtatious whistle. Megan turns her head partly around and laughs, acknowledging the flirt, as the playroom doors slide open with a whoosh. The two deliverywomen break out laughing. "What?" asks Loni. "Her little ass looks so good in those tight shorts." "That's why we encourage our girls to play on the office volleyball team," Adona tells the deliverywomen. "We like to see them in the cute uniforms!" "Is there any harm in that?" Loni asks. "The uniforms definitely do justice to an attractive female ass," says Adona. He picks up the decanter and sloshes another serving of cherry julep into his glass. "Can I ask you a question?" Susan says. "I'm trying to figure this out, but what exactly do men find attractive about a woman's butt?" "It's kind of hard to explain," Loni says, smiling. "I mean, it's not as explicit as with long legs or broad shoulders, or hot-looking deltoids, you know?" "It's that men are attracted to the fact that women have narrower hips," says Adona. "That's what the scientists say. I mean, that's the research, right?" "Oh, really?" says Loni. "Tell us more. This could be interesting." "The research says that men like the fact that a woman's pelvis is narrower than a man's pelvis. It means she can run faster than him and jump higher. Men are attracted to that because we want to feel protected." "Is that what it is?" asks Kat. "Men like women's butts because they want to feel protected?" "It's an innate desire. We like the fact that females have smaller butts than we have," Adona says. "It tells us that the girl can be quick, athletic -- you know, that she runs fast, jumps high." "Right. That makes sense," says Loni. "That actually does make sense," Kat says. "It's not just their smaller butts, but the hips," says Adona. "It's the width of the hips. The research says that men are attracted to women's narrower pelvises - pelvi? - because it's a big sex signal to a man, that the girl can protect him. Men want to feel weak and delicate. That's what the research says." "Hmmm," says Loni thoughtfully. "That totally makes sense. The researchers got that right!" "So when a man sees a girl with a nice, small ass, and the narrow hips females have, he's unconsciously thinking that the girl will be able to run fast and jump high and be strong and fast enough to protect him. That's all. It's innate. It's all in the neurological research. They teach that in sex education class." "That's interesting. I must have been sleeping in that class," says Loni. "I slept all throughout high school. When I wasn't hanging all over the cute girls on the volleyball team!" "I know... When I'm around big, strong athletes, I just feel so delicate and masculine." Adona turns to the deliverywomen. "Every man wants to feel that way!" "Sometimes my hips and thighs don't feel so delicate, though" says Loni. "Everything I eat goes to my hips lately." Adona says, "Well, males are built with broader hips and a lower center of gravity than females." Adona takes a long swig of his cherry julep, gets up from his stool and stands in the kitchen. "We're built like this," Adona says. He points downward with both hands, at his hips. "No, we're not delicate in the hips, and thighs, and ass. This is how we're built!" "Let's face it, Adona," says Loni. "Girls are built for fighting and men are built for.... We're built for the bedroom!" He grins broadly. Both men laugh. "How about, girls are built to protect us, and we're built to enjoy being male!" Adona puts his hands, palms open, on his wide hips. He starts gyrating his hips slowly... Bumping and grinding them to a song that seems to be playing in his head. "How could I enjoy jumping into bed with Megan and screwing her lights out if I were built like a girl, with small little hips?" He grinds his hips more suggestively. "I'm glad I'm built like a man." "I know," says Loni. "I wish girls would understand that, and stop using terms like thunder-thighs!" "Ha! If a girl tells me I have thunder-thighs," says Adona, "I'll just tell her, 'I've got some thunder for you, girl! Right here!" He bumps and grinds his big hips, left and right. "I want to rock my girl," Adona says. "And to rock a girl, a man needs hips!" He raises his arms and does a little dance, rocking his hips and showing off his voluptuous curves poured into his tight. light-blue capri jeans. His stiletto-heeled pumps go up and down. "Be proud of your curves!" Adona says. "It's man power!" Loni giggles. "Man power!" They high-five each other and giggle excitedly. "How did we get started on this?" asks Susan, looking baffled. She puts her empty bottle on the kitchen bar. "I thought we were talking volleyball." "You're right, we were," says Loni. "Adona just had too much to drink. Believe me, he doesn't drink like this often, but when he does..." "Shut up, Loni," says Adona. "I'm well." "Watch out with that drinking, okay?" says Loni. "I'm fine, prickhead!" Adona says. "Anyway, Susan, I can tell you the whole story about Apollonia and Jennifer." "Now he's gonna tell you the whole story of my life," says Loni. He rolls his eyes. "I can do that, too!" says Adona. "Apollonia Nicola Taormina was born 28 years ago, on June 24th, year 798 New Calendar, in Gestation Module 4, at the Commercy Central Gestatorium in Centercoast District, Vix. He was such an angry baby he broke the gestation module and they couldn't use it again! He had 12 gametic donors, and his GENEX gene profile is 62% Maluvian and 43% Anglian." Loni, Susan and Kat burst out in laughter. "That's like, over 100%, you ditz!" Loni says. "You're right, Loni," says Susan. "He is drunk!" "No, he's just really bad at math," Loni says. "Remember, I know him." "Three days after he was born," Adona continues, "Apollonia Nicola Taormina was transported on Commercy municipal cargodrone number 617.11 to the Commercy South Child Dormatory, where he was raised in the Class of 798 by a succession of six childorm attendants. He attended Commercy South School B for elementary school." "Very good!" Loni says. "As a boy, his first crush was a blonde girl named Alexis Brennan. When he was a boy he liked to draw." "That's pretty good," Loni said. "Accurate." "His Flowering Ceremony marking his coming of age as a Vixan man was on May 19, 811 New Calendar. At age 14 he moved in to the Black Rose Men's Dormitory in Abingdon District, Metroplex Gamma, South Commercy. While living at Black Rose, he attended high school at Abindgon High School in Metroplex Gamma." "Not bad," says Loni. "Not bad at all." "His favorite subject in high school was art. Upon graduation from Abingdon High School at 18 years of age, he moved out of Black Rose. He worked as a waiter at the Escarpment Restaurant in Saster City, Sasteria District for one year. He then moved to the Sylvania Orbital City where he worked as a childorm attendant at the Atrium Academy in Terrace Gardens for two years. While he was living on Sylvania, Loni dated a girl named Darrelyn Burns, who was training as a spaceplane pilot in the STA Academy. When Loni broke up with Darrelyn, he moved back to Commercy." "Wow, you're giving them the complete unvarnished narrative," says Loni. "That's pretty good for being drunk!" "Then Apollonia Taormina moved back to Commercy on Vix where he worked as a legal secretary at the law firm of Dubonnet Gifford and Shields." "Very good!" Loni says. "He even remembers the name of my firm." Adona continues. "Apollonia Nicola Taormina first met Jennifer Meredith Bertling at a volleyball game at Abingdon High School. It was Jennifer's first day of the season playing middle blocker. Right, Loni?" "Oh, now I have to play along with this, eh?" says Loni. "Yeah, that's accurate. I met Jennifer at my high school, Abingdon. But it was about five years after I graduated. Jennifer was in 12th grade." "Apollonia Nicola Taormina was a stalker!" Adona says. He roars with laughter and takes a quick swig of cherry julep. Loni smiled at the deliverywomen, shaking his head. "That's right. I'm older than Jennifer by five years. I was already a 22 year-old volleyball team stalker when I met her." "What did you notice first about Jenn?" Adona asks. "What attracted you?" "The red hair and the fair complexion!" says Loni, without hesitation. "And later, when I got closer, the pretty blue eyes." "Not her body?" "I mean, her body was a given. Of course I noticed her body. What man wouldn't get weak and faint over that body?" "I hear you!" says Adona. "All volleyball players have good bodies," Loni says. "They all have long legs. And they all meet my height very specific requirement." Loni smiles. "Which is?" asks Susan. "For me, I'm attracted to girls who are at least 6'2"," Loni says. Then he remembers that the two deliverywomen are a bit shorter - around 5'10 or 5'11". "I mean, no offense to any women under that, but - " "No offense, right?" chides Adona. "Ha ha!" says curly-haired Kat. "No offense taken!" "It's the long legs..." Loni says, eyes down and looking contemplative. "I guess I'm really attracted to tall girls with long legs." "That's normal," says Adona. "Go on..." "Jennifer and Megan have always been volleyball players, anyways," Loni says to the two deliverywomen. "They grew up playing the sport. They both played on their school teams in high school and in college at New Stanford." "How old are they?" asks Kat. "Jennifer is 23 and Megan is 24," says Loni. "Oh, they're that young, huh?" Kat says. "Well if they look too young to be lawyers," Loni says, "it's because they're very recent law school graduates. And Jennifer skipped a grade in elementary school. And finished the undergrad degree at NSU in 3 years. And she finished law school at NSU a semester early. She was already out working 6 months before the other girls in her class. And she graduated near the top of the class!" "Jennifer was number 3 out of 200," says Adona. "Megan was number 17." "Personally, I think they did so well because they had good sports training with volleyball," Loni says. "It made them disciplined and ambitious." "So they didn't play at NSU when April Moss was coaching the team?" curly-hair asks. "No," says Adona. "Jennifer and Megan were there well after April Moss. Gwen Rutledge was their coach." "Right," says Loni. "Gwen Rutledge. Tough coach. Great coach. She made the girls work out in the gym -- strength training -- six times a week. A lot of weight-lifting. That's why the Megan and Jenny look as good as they do. Anyway, when Jenn started undergraduate school at New Stanford, I was working as a legal secretary. Very cool job for a single man! I got to see what lawyers do. It's a prestigious job. A law career is great leadership training for young girls. A lot of politicians are lawyers. A girl can be important and respected at a young age. If she's working for a great firm, she can argue important cases before the highest courts. And that's why I convinced Jennifer to go to law school." "Jenn was a Mathematics major at NSU, wasn't she?" asks Adona. "Math, right," says Loni. "Jenny and I casually dated during most of her time at NSU. And I noticed, she's not right for just working with numbers and computers. It would have been wrong. So wrong. Jenn is not a nerd. I mean, she's really good at that stuff; she's a natural, and she totally got, like, the highest scores anyone can imagine on all those standardized math tests." "Impressive," says Adona. "Yeah, right?" says Loni. "They were really pressuring her to go into engineering or some other physics-science bullshit at school. But I wanted her to do something more with people, because she's so outgoing. Jenny is naturally outer-directed rather than inner-directed. And she's so funny. I said to myself, this girl is like, the hottest girl I've ever seen. But I realized, if I wanted her to be with me, she needed to do some kind of work that's outer-directed. Something for an extrovert. I wanted her out and having fun with people, 'cause that's totally her personality. And I so love the way she is! So I begged her and I begged her, and I finally convinced Jenn to take the law school test. And you know what? She got the highest score they can give. And a professor, a math professor at NSU, told me that the reason Jenny scored so high on that law school entrance exam is that -- not many people know this -- it tests logic and analytical reasoning more than anything. The same aptitudes that important in math are really important in law." "You've got a really smart girl there!" says Susan. Loni put his hands on his hips again. "I knoooow," he says, dragging out the word. His expression looks guilty, slightly pained, but somehow also exhilarated. "Jenny is like a genius." "You lucked out!" the blonde woman says. "I knoooow..." Loni says with the same guilty-happy emotion on his face. He quickly brushes some dangling hair off his bare shoulder and cocks his hips askew. He looks at the deliverywoman plaintively. "I know. She's so smart. That's why we're so young and we have all this" - he points with an open hand around the room. "But sometimes she is such a little girl. Like you saw before? With the fighting and the horseplay? She can't cut it out." "She's just being a girl," Adona says. "Sometimes she acts like a 12 year-old," Loni says. "Actually, it's often. She's hard to control." "I won't tell her you said that," smiles Susan. Her arms are crossed. "Women are immature," Adona says. "They're overgrown little girls." "I know," says Loni. He bites his lip. "Every woman is a little girl inside," Adona says. He looks at the two deliverywomen. "That's why men get -- aroused -- taking care of them. It's the male nurturing instinct. Another part of biology." "Well," says the blonde deliverywoman. "It's time for us to get back to work!" "Thanks for joining us for a drink!" Loni says. The two women walk back out to the patio, and out onto the skypad where their van is. With Megan's Halcyon 8000 out of the way, they can begin unloading the remaining furniture. "You always talk about that, Adona," says Loni. "What?" "That male nurturing instinct thing." "Well it's true. The male brain is wired to be nurturing and emotional and intuitive. The female brain is wired for logic and numbers and spatial reasoning. It's all in the scientific research." Loni puts his hands on his hips again. "Hmmm... That's why Jennifer and Megan are brilliant lawyers, then, and we're just a couple of dumb, ditzy little househusbands who cook and do the laundry and clean bathroom tiles all day." "I wouldn't call our job all bad, though" Adona says. "Considering it has some fringe benefits." "I know!" Loni says, with that whiny, guilty sound in his voice. "I knoooow! You know what my favorite part of being a househusband is, though?" "What?" "Attacking my wife in bed, like I'm gonna do tonight!" Loni says excitedly. "Throwing her tall, athletic body on the bed and getting what I want." "You little stud! Take what you need!" "I'll show her what a househusband needs!" says Loni. "Way to go, stud!" Adona says. "Teach her all about the desires and fantasies of the modern househusband!" To be continued...