The Penny Drops (Sea the Depths Book 1) by Karmon Kuhn (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📕

all of them, Egyptian Rat Screw. It took a couple of rounds of each for me to win anything, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Spending time doing something ordinary under those extraordinary circumstances was such an incredible relief.

After several games, I became peckish and asked about the food to which Penny responded, “Yeah, it’s probably about lunch time. Let’s have something to eat. We have cold Amy’s canned pastas, faux jerky, chips, dry cereal, a veritable feast! Anything sound good?”

“I don’t think I’ve eaten any of those things before,” I answered. “You choose.”

“How about we start with jerky and chips and then have a bit of cereal for dessert?”

“Okay,” I replied.

She peeled apart the crinkly packaging of the jerky which turned out to be an oily dried meat substitute. The chips were plant matter, but I never would have guessed as much. The package had a picture of the original root, and I couldn’t believe how different this presentation seemed. Penny told me that roasted potatoes with olive oil and rosemary were much better, and she offered to make me some. Mention of the future pulled the smile on my face down into a frown. If we made it out of this, maybe she really could cook for me. If . . .

“I recognize this. I’ve seen this packaging,” I said, when she passed me the bag of chips.

“Oh yeah? Like, in the store? These are a pretty popular flavor.” Penny answered with her mouth full.

“No. I’ve pulled many of these packages from the ocean for repurposing.”

“Oh.” Penny replied. “We can take them with us. I bet we’ll find recycling somewhere on the drive back.”

I smiled again. This change in her was flattering. Somehow, I’d made a positive impact, and she maintained it.

The rest of the day continued in the same way. We played games, ate the delectable snack foods, and took turns reading sections of the books from our bags. For a while we even watched “reality TV” full of filthy antiheroes. I couldn’t look away.

Despite everything that was happening in our lives, I had fun with Penny. We lounged on the bed, and I lightly grazed her each time one of us adjusted our position to get more comfortable. Whenever we touched or she laughed, I was consumed by a wave of contentment that drowned my anxieties.

***

In the afternoon when the light started to shift to a deeper glow near the horizon, Penny went to the windows and checked outside to see if there was anything suspicious. After she was satisfied, she plopped down on the bed next to me and flipped through the book closest to her. It was by an author called Stephen King. I’d never heard of him, and I was surprised. This piece was fascinating.

“So what do you think? He’s not exactly one of the greats of classic literature, but I definitely like his books,” Penny said.

“His writing style is intriguing. I especially like the vivid characters,” I answered.

“Do you want to keep on reading for a bit? I can start packing up and just listen.”

“Yes!”

I flipped through the pages, reciting the words about these strange situations: riding a bicycle, throwing rocks through a window, Sewing! It all sounded so terrifically foreign and unique.

Then, there was the sex. I’d learned the basics of reproductive anatomy and the physiology of sexual intercourse among my people, humans, and a number of animal and plant species at the tsez̈ø. We’d even discussed reproduction in my early education before that, but the sex described in this book was not like what I’d learned.

As I read a scene depicting intercourse between two lovers, something inside me stirred. That same flitting feeling in my stomach after skin-to-skin touch with Penny.

She sat down next to me as I read and placed her hand on my leg. I continued to read as heat spread from her palm and fingertips. It was difficult to concentrate on the words.

After I finished the passage, Penny closed the book in my hands and looked into my face. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“No,” I answered simply.

“No, like, not at all, or just no, not with a human?”

“No, I’ve never had sex. It’s common to commune sexually with a human during the land trials to ensure a proper bond, but I haven’t. And, I haven’t gone through fertility testing to see if I am viable for reproduction, so I haven’t had sex with one of my own either,” I answered.

She looked up at me through her eyelashes. “Were you planning on having sex with me?”

“Well . . . yes. It was part of my mission to observe you to ensure that you were in fact female and to deeply solidify the bond.” I answered matter-of-factly, and as I did, her hand crept slowly up my leg.

“What’s this bonding stuff about?” she asked, her hand still stroking my upper thigh.

“We transfer bacteria to humans that spike serotonin, oxytocin, and dopamine. So, when I touch you,” I demonstrated and slid my fingers along her bare arm, “you should start to feel soothed but also excited.”

“Does the bonding work both ways?” She adjusted on the bed and scooted closer to me.

“From my experience,” She slid her hand higher up my leg, and my voice cracked as I finished. “Yes. The bonding has been mutual.”

“How would you know what to do, if we’d . . . you know?” I finally understood the line of questioning.

“We learned about it at the tsez̈ø.” I turned and pressed her lightly onto the cushion of the bed and then placed my knees on each side of her hips.

“Have you had sex before?” I asked her.

She leaned up on her elbows and placed her lips just next to mine. “Mhm.”

“Wha’s it like?” I asked her.

“Why don’t I show you?” She pushed me over beside her and took my place.

Just like in the park, she placed her lips softly on mine. There was a thumping in my chest and my temperature rose.