Laz, my Cannis Confederacy warrior turned diplomat, a man whom I'd saved from certain death, had always been destined to leave me for a greater duty.

"I must," he said that last morning. "My honor leaves me no other choice."

"I know, darling," I whispered, my eyes wet, my lips quivering. I don't think I'd ever experienced so much happiness in my life than during the last few weeks. Perhaps it was because I knew it must end that I was able to abandon myself to the bliss of total surrender. To be able, for the first time, to fully submerge myself in another person without fear, because I knew, without doubt, it would end.

For all of that, the ending was painful beyond my experience.

We were aboard my ship, the Jalapeno, in orbit around the galactic capital, the center of the Alliance, or Empire, or whatever you wanted to call the regime. It was a sparkling icon of civilization and a more deadly nest of vipers could not be imagined. I was glad to be leaving it, though I was apprehensive for Laz. He was still a naive warrior from the sticks and would be easy prey to the sophisticates of the planet-wide city. I'd tried to educate him in the ways of "civilized" people, but it was a hopeless task. He was a country boy at heart. That was his charm, I guess.

"You'll be beating women, and men, off with a stick," I warned him. "Just be careful who you take into your bed. Be suspicious of their motives. Protect yourself."

He smiled at me indulgently, confident in his ignorance, and I knew he'd have to learn for himself, as I had done when I had first ventured out alone.

The time had come. His bags were packed.

It was still early, and he was still naked in all his gorgeous manliness. He gazed at me with his deep brown eyes, their inner light pulsing with lust, his craggily-sculpted face holding an expression caught between sadness and desire. I reached out and touched his shoulder and caressed the deep gold of his tan.

"Come back to bed," I whispered, and pulled him down onto the pale lilac of my Nell Pozniac sheets. He lowered his muscular body, the result of a hard upbringing, down onto me, enveloping me with his warm masculinity.

His lips claimed mine with unexpected ferocity, and I responded with despair-fueled passion. We clung to each other as we fell into a deep abyss of sensuality. In synchrony with our wrestling tongues, our hands explored every millimeter of each other's body, knowing this would be the last time we would ever love.

Leaving my numb lips, Laz allowed his tongue to find my throat, the cleavage between my breasts and the aching nipples at their points. I tugged at his hips to swing his body around so I could take his stiff cock into my mouth. He straddled my face and then applied his mouth to the sultry juncture of my thighs. My pussy was wet and open, and his tongue circled my clit with broad forceful sweeps.

I raised my pelvis to thrust my sex against his lips. He responded by driving his cock into my mouth so deep the swollen head filled my throat. I'd mastered the gag reflex long ago and was able to take his whole length and, by stretching out my tongue, was able to lick his ball sac.

That must have pleased him because his tongue attacked my clit directly, and after a few deft flicks of its tip, I had my first orgasm. Then, after one finger and then another were inserted into my pussy, I had my second orgasm. Laz knew exactly where my internal erogenous spots were.

I don't know exactly when he swiveled about and fed his cock into my pussy; I'd been lost somewhere in the midst of an orgasm. After a minute or two, or three, his frantic early thrusts became more controlled and thoughtful. With our lips locked in a loving embrace and his body crushing mine with a glorious possessiveness, Laz fucked me six different ways before the "Feuqz Hian!" his Climax Superb, as he called it. I'd already had untold screaming orgasms by then so, languidly intrigued, I let him have his way and now, captivated, I succumbed once again to his stroking tongue as it maneuvered expertly around my clit.

As I swooned in rapture, he tied me to my own bed with some Kyle Luren silk scarves he'd found in my wardrobe and hidden beside the bed in preparation. Then he resumed his sensual torture of my body. His tongue, his fingers and his glorious cock tantalized my body all over again. I was helpless to respond except with cries and sobs as each new orgasm swept through my unresisting body. I'm sure an outside observer would have thought I was having convulsions as the powerful spasms possessed me from head to toe, sweeping through me like a tsunami of scintillating sensation.

Laz knew exactly what he was doing. With my thighs spread so wide, straining against the silken bonds tied so neatly about my ankles, he had easy access to my demanding cunt. His gentle fingers held open my pussy lips to give the length of his tongue the opportunity to caress every internal fold. Oh, how he knew my body. Of course, during the last glorious month he had explored every micron of my body several times, so he knew each and every spot that sent me into paroxysms of ecstasy --inside and out.

With my wrists secured all I could do was twist and turn in mindless pleasure as the point of his tongue slid from circling my sensitive clit into the cleft and reached my innermost depths. When he began fucking me with his rigid tongue, thrusting in and out with a blistering speed, I tripped over into a cascade of multiple orgasms that left me shaken and comatose.

When I came to my senses, he was lying beside me, the weight of his cock on my hip, his tireless tongue now lazily circling my right nipple. One hand still cupped my throbbing pussy, a finger sitting comfortably inside.

"I'll miss you," he whispered into my heaving breast. "Like no one else in my life."

Despite my better judgment I was about to utter that fateful question, "Must you then?" with the no turning back suggestion, "Let's be together always," when his mouth silenced me before I could speak. I closed my eyes and lost myself in an ocean of bliss.

When the kiss was over, I drifted for awhile. How long I don't know, but long enough for the inevitable moment to strike. Eventually I opened my eyes to find that he was standing by the door of my cabin, dressed and solemn.

My wrists and ankles were still bound to my bed. "Laz?"

"I'm sorry, it has to be like this," he whispered. "I have to go, and if I leave you free, I'm afraid I might stay. Duty is my bane."

"But..."

"Fyche will release you after I leave." He placed his fingers at his lips and blew me a kiss.

"Laz!"

It was too late. He was gone. I struggled uselessly against my bonds. "Fyche! Fyche!"

Fyche didn't answer for a long time. He waited till I'd finished sobbing.