Page 56 of The Protector
“The fact that every time our ancestors envisioned the future and made a movie about it, like this one” – he pointed to the glasses – “the future was either a complete hell with burned-down ruins or something super boring and sleek.”
I nodded. “I know, Kya and I talked about that too. It’s always so clinical and colorless, as if we wouldn’t appreciate art and colors as much as the generations before us.”
“In this movie everyone wears white and walks like they’re cyborgs or something. And their food is these disgusting packages of optimized nutrients. Who the hell would want to live like that?”
I smiled. “Not me.”
“You know what’s also completely unrealistic?”
“What?”
“There isn’t a piece of trash anywhere. It’s hysterical.”
I frowned. “Well, actually, we do keep our streets very clean in the Motherlands. At least where I live.”
“Yeah, all right, but what about your homes? Don’t people have messes at home?”
“Of course, Kya and I aren’t the tidiest of people, but she says it’s what makes our apartment cozy.” I pointed to his forehead with the glasses. “You get back to your movie; I’ll be quiet now.”
“It’s okay, I’ve seen it at least ten times.” He put the glasses back on, and soon his head was moving around and I knew he was taking in the virtual reality the movie offered. “It’s one of my favorites because of the cool visual effects,” he said and when two minutes later he raised both hands defensively I figured someone was attacking and sighed. Movies like that were disturbing and could cause emotional distress, but of course, he wouldn’t listen when I told him that.
My eyes drifted to the cabinet with the antique books. What had happened between us yesterday was playing in my mind and curiosity was making me come up with arguments to justify why skimming one of those books would be all right.
1: It’s not illegal in this part of the world and therefore I’m not technically breaking any laws.
2: I’m an archeologist, so studying what our ancestors considered entertainment is actually part of my job.
3: I’ve already proven that I can conduct social experiments and not succumb to emotional distress. After all, these past days have been very challenging; I’ve heard horrible language and witnessed violence up close.
4: Nothing in those books can be more damaging to my mental state than an Nman on top of me sticking his tongue in my mouth.
Without making much noise, I put my reader aside and got out of bed, tip-toeing slowly past Boulder to the cabinet. I knew exactly which book I wanted, and picked out the novel with the woman sandwiched between two men.
Like a child stealing apples, I hurried back to the bed and placed myself on my side letting my body hide the book, just in case Boulder took off his glasses to look over.
Twin Lovers, the book title read and eagerly I opened it up and started reading.
The plot had me intrigued. A woman was aboard an alien spaceship with thousands of humanoid aliens living there and two of them were trying to seduce her in any way possible.
My eyes widened when they tied her down and took control of her body until she cried out their names and begged them to fill her up.
My mind was bursting with questions, and I wish I could ask the woman who wrote the book if she based this on an actual experience or it was pure fiction. Surely no woman would like to be tied down and feel powerless, and I couldn’t imagine how frightened she would have been with two men touching her.
As far as I knew humans hadn’t made contact with aliens, but it was an ongoing discussion among my colleagues as there were several witness descriptions saying otherwise. And now this. Could it be based on something real or was it just a figment of the author’s imagination?
I bit my lip and squeezed my thighs tighter when the woman surrendered to the good-looking twins in the book. They were described as large and ripped with muscles so I couldn’t help comparing them in my mind to Boulder, although the twins had fangs, which Boulder luckily didn’t.
The graphic description of the sex and the woman’s pleasure had me aroused and so completely engulfed in the story that I didn’t hear him walk up behind me.
“What are you doing?” Boulder asked in his deep masculine voice.
Flustered and embarrassed, I hid the book under the cover. “Nothing,” I lied.
Boulder’s face split in a grin and he crawled up on the bed reaching for the cover. “You’re hiding something.”
“No, I’m not.” I tried pushing him away but I might as well have pushed at the wall.
In no time, he had the book, which was still open to the page I’d been reading.
