Kronos asks me to take the initiative. His thirty-six meters high athletic body is nothing new to me. All the other daemons that I had in me, for sex or lovemaking, were sporting exactly the same bodies. They had different heads and faces but their bodies never varied. They don’t age, don’t deprecate, don’t enhance – past the first week after birth, allowing them to grow up to maturity.

Approaching, I take his hand in my palms. His nails are amazingly pink. No violet hues. Strange.

“What is so strange about my nails?,” he asks.

Every daemon I made love to had violet nails, I think in response. Yours are pink. This is a first for me. So far I know that you are the only virgin daemon. But hey, I had my share of virgin daemons back then and their nails were violet, not pink. Funny!

“I have never launched lightnings from the tips of my fingers. Can you tell of another daemon that didn’t?”

Huh? Let me think… No, they all were trained into this, starting the third day after birth. It used to be a traditional sport. Remember?

“Really, Astarte? Remember what? Have you seen me participating in any tradition?”

Oops, the lonely artist. Forgot about your past, sorry.

“Past? What past, dear? There is no past and no future.”

Good. Talking to this guy invariably ends up in philosophical debate. This kills my libido. Let me handle things in silence, will ya?

He nods. Caressing his shoulders, I press my belly against his dick. Kissing his nipples, I feel the arching cock above my navel, like hot iron. Have to terminate the foreplay before my virgin will ejaculate prematurely on me.

His first jet has to come inside me, not outside!

With my left hand hurriedly massaging my clit, to get myself wetty, with my right hand embracing his neck, I wrap my legs around his waist and decisively plunge my pussy in.

Historically, I had my latest sex session a few billion years ago.

Technically, with his dick inside me, I feel like it was yesterday. Time did not flow for me in the sarcophagus.

Seems like Kronos is right, after all: no past, no future, just the present! Fuck me harder! Grab my butt cheeks in your hands. Come on. Rock me!

He comes in 835 milliseconds after intromission. Less than one damn second… Disheartening…

“Ohhh… Ahhh… Yoo… Whoaaahh… You are incredible, Astarte, incredible! I… I… I know that you need more play time to reach orgasm. I will provide that to you. Teach me. Please.”

Something unexpected happens. His ejaculation lasted 2984 milliseconds. As I assess, there are 4765 milliseconds (and counting) since we coupled but his dick remains iron hard. I’ll take my time… An hour later… Forty-one ejaculations, each lasting about three seconds. The amount of sperm he’s capable to provide is unequaled. My orgasms are beyond imagination. I’m living five of them simultaneously. Good that I can’t faint and that I have this responsible channel always open (a self defense feature?).

“Kronos darling… No, no, keep that inside me, it’s just lovely… Kronos darling, please allow me some statistics. I have been fucked by exactly 2,899,052 different dicks before having you inside me. None was capable to provide half the performance you did per unit of time…”

“…And no one of your previous lovers had pink nails, if you allow me, sweet Astarte. Please show me other positions.”

“Now? Don’t you need to rest?” I asked, bit scared.

“Rest, why rest? I am not tired.”

Very well then, I’m about to show you the entire Kamasutra, chapters from the Book of Pleiades and films of Vanaheimr, then…”

He interrupts me with an “ah, there you go,” as his free hand (the other grabs my buttocks tightly) pops up a dozen of reality backup volumes. Hardcore porn from every corner of the inhabited universe.

“If you’ve watched them all, why do you ask me to teach you?” I’m intrigued by this guy. Have instructed my vaginal muscles to record the hardness of his dick because I wish to know, when he tells me about the engineering of stars, if the blood pressure in his manhood goes down, just a tiny bit. No way! Kronos is a perfectly oiled multitasking fuck machine.

“I want you to teach me everything about lovemaking. Remember when you couldn’t find your words at the inaugural speech of the Insurrection on Venus? The keyword was LOVE. Emancipating from evil, your next stop is learning to love. Sex is just a form of communication, like writing or drawing, like painting or music. Sex is choreography, body language. But loveless sex is nothing, and nothing is where evil comes from.”

“Listen to me, Kronos. Can you keep your dick inside me, as hard as it is now, for a total of 504 hours, uninterrupted?”

“Yes, I can and I will. One hour is behind us, 503 to go. Check.”

“Can you show me your entire porn records of reality and repeat the scenes involving a man and a woman? All of them without taking your dick out of me, not even for a millisecond?”

“How about oral?”

“No oral.”

“Alright. Yes, I can and I will. Check.”

“Can you speak to me, during all this, about your Platonic loved ones?”

“Speaking sounds impractical. I’ll give you a better option. Look, now I’m not a virgin anymore. The more we fuck the easier will be for your mind to read mine. So…”

“…So this was the mystery!! It haunted me all of my life. Everyone with a less whorish record than mine can read my mind. In extremis, the mind of a virgin cannot be read by a non-virgin. The more you fuck around, the less private are your thoughts. Oh my…”

“Your thoughts go hand in hand with your private parts, like your moods go hand in hand with your gut nerves. Trivial physiology, Astarte dear. Everyone (but one) has full access to your mind. Provided you happen to be within range.”

“Okay, okay. What I had and what I’ve lost. So be it. Now, back to our little lovemaking deal: as we fuck for 504 hours, nonstop, can you give me access to the memories holding your loved ones?”

“Yes, I can and I will, even to more memories of mine. Check.”


And those two monstrous, Godzillan, Gargantuan, daemonic, extraterrestrial lovebirds keep fucking for 504 hours, continuously. Oh wait, who said that?? Hey Doris, you peeping around? It is me who narrates the story of this book, remember? I am supposed to tell that line. Ah, you thought I never will, huh? Look at me: and my awesomely endowed, the Master of Time, recently appointed man-of-mine, the courageous daemon who plunged into a black deck, or (as you would have said) into “the Milky Way’s central supermassive black hole Sagittarius A*,” the gentle and most gorgeous virgin daemon Kronos keeps fucking me for 504 hours, continuously. And agreed to share his knowledge with me. And don’t rant back with your well known “what can go wrong” punchline because nothing will. I am a good gal now. Look at me!