by Tracy Lauren
Unfortunately, she doesn’t let me retreat. She throws her arms around my neck and presses her body against mine. The skin covering she wears is like a glove, cut to fit her every curve. It hides nothing, especially when she is flush against my chest.
Swallowing heavily, I will my body not to react in the same way it did yesterday morning. The last thing I want is for her to feel my stiff cock pressing against her belly as she tries to express her gratitude. I’m focusing on unlacing her hold on me when I feel her lips graze my jaw, and instantly, I still.
“This is just…I don’t even know what to say.” Her eyes are locked onto mine as she speaks and I can’t bring myself to look way. “Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”
“Please,” I tell my prey miserably. “Don’t thank me.”
Chapter 20
Purity
This is the sweetest, most thoughtful, and generous thing anyone has ever done for me. I clutch the comb against my chest like a treasure, wishing I could convey how deeply touched I am. Every other gift I’ve been given in my life suddenly pales in comparison. The cell phone I got for my 15th birthday, the car I got when I graduated high school…those things all seemed so life-altering at the time. But this comb that Hero carved from bone… This changes everything. I look up at Hero with adoring eyes and he looks…well, he looks a little scared.
I kissed him. Nothing wild, just a chaste little peck on the cheek when what I really wanted to do was smother him with big, smacking, wet ones all over his scaled alien face. But I also didn’t want to spook him. To be honest, I really don’t know where we stand. What is this partnership even about? I remember the other human in the clearing on that first night. She didn’t want to team up, she just told me to run for my life. But Hero, it almost seemed like he came looking for me.
Was he lonely? Did he hear me screaming for help? Or did our paths cross solely by chance? I keep wondering if he’s as grateful for our companionship as I am. Was he out here alone before I came along? Or did he arrive when I did? Is he happy to have someone to pass the time with, even if I haven’t been able to help as much as I would like? I have so many questions and the answers are so nuanced I doubt pantomiming would help put my mind at ease.
Plus, he’s an alien, for goodness sake! Our differences are much more than skin deep. Without a doubt, our cultures vary wildly. As it stands, there’s no way to know how many social and relationship standards have already been lost in translation between us. Hell, maybe I’m already his alien bride and I don’t even know it. Or maybe he’s adopted me like a child or…or a sad little pet.
Regardless of what this gift meant to him, I know what it means to me…and I know how I feel about Hero.
He rubs anxiously at his neck and I can hear his scales scraping together. Finally, he says something and reaches for my hand. Taking the comb, he sets it on the shelf and pulls me toward the mouth of the cave.
Hand in hand, I follow Hero outside, smiling up at him like the hero that he is. The place he leads me to is not far, it’s where he’s been doing the tanning. The blanket is ready. I begin to admire it, but am surprised when Hero starts hacking off the rough edges with his blade.
There were longer strips at the sides, where the beast’s legs had been, but not anymore. Before I can wonder what he plans to do with the scraps, Hero is pushing me back so I can take a seat on a large rock. He kneels at my feet and begins wrapping them in the excess fur. Once the first foot is covered, he cuts another long, thin strip from the blanket—like a cord, and he uses it to bind the material to my foot. I’m silent as I watch him, not bothering to hide the cheesy grin on my face. I feel the way Cinderella must have when she put on her glass slipper, though I’m sure my fur boots are a thousand times more comfortable.
Hero’s large hands feel electric against my skin and goosebumps shoot up my leg when he touches my calf and ankle. The process doesn’t take long and when he’s done, I reach for him again. This time I am going to smother him in kisses, let alien social rules be damned. But he stops me before I can, looking down at the shoes. He makes a motion with his finger like he wants me to turn around so he can see if everything looks alright. I pretend my hair isn’t disgusting and make a big show out of modeling them. I’m a firm believer that beauty is like 90% confidence anyway, so I strut around in my boots, shaking my butt and beaming smiles at him. My heart flutters when I see his fanged teeth bite his bottom lip. Maybe it’s time for those thank you kisses now?
Hero stops me in my tracks though and points me toward the rocks he was using as a tanning station. I see a depression in one of the stones. It’s filled with fluid, meat, and fur. I try to keep my face neutral—I want him to think of me as strong and capable.
“Is it time for me to learn now?” I ask.
He affirms my suspicion with a nod.
“Well, you are just full of gifts today, aren’t you?” I joke, eyeing the nasty mixture stewing on the rock. Hero chuckles and when I peek over at him his smile finally looks easier now that our attention isn’t on each other but on a new task. My heart drops a little.
Since the blanket is done, Hero has me working on the small fur he took from our dinner last night. He shows me how to rub the meaty concoction into the skin and then scrape it with the sharp side of a rock. I’m working elbow deep in sludge and he takes the opportunity to show me the back side of the blanket he made. It looks hard and rough, perfect for the exterior of my new shoes, but it doesn’t exactly look like the easiest material to work with once the time comes for me to make clothes.
“It’s rough,” I say, and he nods then lets out a string of words pointing to my work and the rocks, making back and forth motions with his hands… I’m struggling to follow his meaning until he hooks one big finger under the strap to my leotard and his knuckle gently caresses my shoulder. Then my mind really goes blank.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, blinking.
Pulling his hand away, he points at his pants and then at me.
“Are you saying we can get it softer for clothes?” I venture.
He answers with another long string of words and motions eagerly at the rocks.
“I don’t know what you’re saying, but I like the way you say it,” I tell him again, this time in a sing-song voice. His shoulders relax and though he seems a little defeated by our communication barrier, he also seems amused, so I count it as a win.
Chapter 21
He’Rokvska Naa
The female is happy and it pleases me. I do not allow myself to think about it beyond that. I cannot change our circumstances. All I can do is live as a gladiator does: for this moment alone.
She remains at the rocks, working the hide, while I go check my traps. I take my time, enjoying the wilderness. Everything about this place is so natural and pure…just like my prey. I follow paths, worn over time by the creatures of this world. Taking a deep breath, I inhale in the scents of the forest, but Purity’s perfume lingers on my body. I find I do not mind the way the two fragrances mix—terra and unabashed female. It is quite pleasing, in fact.
More joy comes to me when I discover two additional small and soft-pelted creatures that have fallen victim to my traps. They made for a good meal last night and their furs will be perfect for the clothing my female wishes to have. I find myself looking forward to what her reaction might be when I bring them back to camp. The simplest things bring her happiness. She is like me in that way. Luxuries never held much appeal, but the gifts that nature provides us here…those are things truly worth appreciating.
I use my scanner on the way back to assess native plant life and am further blessed when I find a scraggly looking bush whose small leaves have a mildly sweet and earthy scent. The readings on my device indicate it is safe for consumption and may even have some beneficial properties to it as well. I collect the leaves, adding them to my pouch, hoping they will make a good tea later on this evening.
Nearing the camp, I hear my prey before I see her. She is singing a
nd I strain my ears to make out her words. It is something about females wishing to have fun and her hips sway back and forth as I approach. Either she does not hear me coming, or she is giving me show. When she peeks over her shoulder and shoots a smile at me, I know which one it is.
“Oh! Look what you have there!” She claps in excitement even though she has scraps of brain smeared over her hands.
“I am glad you like them, it will be your job to prepare them for the spit,” I tell her, tossing them on the ground and handing her the hilt of my knife. I smirk, waiting for her to fuss over her workload, instead she takes the knife and asks, “Now?”
“Yes. You can finish your tanning at another time. I am getting hungry.”
“Should I wash up first?”
I shrug. “It makes no difference.”
“Okie-dokie,” she says with a smile. “I might still need some pointers though.”
I watch over her shoulder as she works the meat, giving her direction as she goes. She seems as happy butchering as she did when she received her shoes…yet not so happy as she was when I gave her the comb. Inwardly, I kick myself for attempting to keep track of what brings her joy, but it still does not stop me from doing it.
“Very good,” I tell her when she is finished. I’m busy reserving the small amount of brains for tanning when she stops me.
“Hey, Hero? I know what the meaty stuff is we’re using for the tanning, but what’s the fluid?”
“My urine,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. I grab my dick and say the word again. Her wide eyes shoot to my crotch and stares for a moment before gasps.
“Are you telling me this is your piss?”
I give her a laughing grin.
“Oh my God, I need a bath.” The look on her face is horrified.
“Go ahead,” I tell her, motioning toward the stream. But then I remember her injuries.
“How is your leg?” I ask. She hasn’t been limping today. Still, I crouch to inspect it. I even lift her foot from the ground and bend it back and forth at the ankle. She leans on my shoulder and laughs.
“Careful, I’m getting your piss and alien brains all over you.”
“Do you need help bathing?” I ask and motion toward the stream again.
“I think I’ve got it,” she says, biting her lip and looking shy. “I might try and wash my clothes too.”
“Do whatever pleases you,” I say, turning my back on her to clean up our work space. When I hear her walk away, I give myself a sniff. Perhaps I should bathe today as well.
I venture a glance upon hearing her exit the cave and she smiles, waving the bone comb proudly before heading down the path toward the stream.
I decide I should probably keep an eye on her just in case her injuries make traversing the rocks difficult. But when I see her slip the straps of her top off her shoulders, I quickly change my mind and duck into our cave.
Chapter 22
Purity
I dip my arms in the water first, scrubbing them clean before getting undressed. As smitten as I am with Hero, I’m not trying to have his pee lingering on my clothes.
Carefully, I take off my new furry moccasin boots and my leotard, setting them on a dry rock away from the water’s edge. I cast a glance back toward the cave, Hero is nowhere to be seen. Bummer, I think to myself.
Wearing only my bra, panties, and leggings I climb back down to the water and try to figure out the best way to do this. I think I’ll get undressed, wash myself first, then take care of my clothes. I purposely left my leotard aside so I would have something dry to wear. Tomorrow I’ll wash it too, but I’ll have no top to wear while it dries. The thought makes me cast a glance back to the cave once more. I see Hero now, but he’s busy and working around the camp, paying no attention to what I’m doing. Is it crazy that I want him to join me? Probably, I decide.
Peeling my clothes off, I slide into the steadily flowing water. It isn’t more than waist deep in the center, and though it’s icy cold the day is hot enough that it isn’t too uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, it’s refreshing. I try to focus on the task of washing, but as I scrub my body my mind travels back to Hero. I wonder if his species is modest? Will he be shocked when I return to camp wearing only my thong leotard? I snicker at the idea of him blushing…or the alien lizard equivalent to blushing, whatever that might be.
But maybe his people aren’t shy…maybe he’ll get hot enough that he’ll come join me in the stream. I thrill at the thought and push myself up on tippy toes in the water, trying to get a clear view of him. Beyond the rock bank I catch a glimpse of his wide, muscled shoulders and the long spines that taper down his neck. A thought occurs to me: could his junk be as alien as he is?
With a sigh, I throw myself back, I dunk my head under the water. I am crazy…I’m sure of it.
It feels so good to get a real rinse it actually distracts me from my one-track mind and the rest of my time in the water is spent gingerly scrubbing my head and washing my clothes as well as I can without any soap. I wring them out when I’m done, then spread them on a rock to dry. I don’t bother putting my leotard on yet, I’ll wait for the sun to dry my skin first. No reason to get it wet. Then I take a seat, cross legged on a rock, and use my new comb to slowly work the tangles from my hair.
Hero never did come join me. Maybe it’s for the best. The grounded and logical part of me wonders if I should be skeptical of the growing feelings I have for my alien companion, but I also think it’s that’s same side of me which knows what I’m feeling is more than just a crush. I smooth my fingers over the comb. Hero is the real deal, a veritable knight in shining armor. What woman wouldn’t want that? Alien or not, when I think of him… There’s no question. I’m going to fall in love with this man.
By the time I get all the tangles out my hair is nearly dry. I run my fingers through it, luxuriating in the feel of mostly clean hair. Luckily the sap Hero’s been putting on my wound was fairly water soluble. The hair still feels heavy though, almost the way it does when you accidently don’t rinse the conditioner out all the way. But it could be way worse, so count me as thankful.
I pull the hair over my shoulder and twist it into a simple braid. Breaking off a piece of the tie straps Hero made for my moccasins, I use it to secure the end of the braid. Then I throw on my leotard and wrap up my feet. Even though I’m basically just wearing a thong onesie, I still feel more put together than I have in days. It’s a good feeling.
Walking back to the cave, I catch the smell of meat roasting over the fire. My stomach growls. The only thing I’ve had so far today has been a few bites of roots and I can’t wait to eat whatever Hero’s cooking up. I peer up at the sun. The day has come and gone too quickly; already it hangs low in the sky.
“Honey, I’m home,” I call out, giving Hero a warm smile. He stills when he sees me and I watch as his eyes travel slowly from my boots all the way up my long, bare legs. His gaze lingers on my chest for a split second before he takes in my new do. I wonder if he can tell I’m not wearing a bra anymore. Moving to the rear of the cave, I lay my still-drying clothes out on a rock and act like I can’t feel Hero’s eyes studying my bare ass cheeks.
When I turn around my suspicions are confirmed. It’s like he can’t look away. He’s rubbing his neck, though, like he’s pained and his expression is troubled. I can’t help but worry I might be playing with fire…which can feel really good until you get burned.
“Is my transformation that drastic?” I ask nervously, tugging at the tip of my braid and biting at my nervous smile.
Hero’s only response is a grunt as he turns his attention back to the fire. The last of my smile slips away and I shift on my feet, looking around the cave. I notice our new blanket, lying in what has been our shared sleeping space. I suddenly feel even more disheartened as I worry about spending the night without Hero’s arms wrapped around me. I sigh heavily and Hero’s eyes dart to me and then away again just as quickly.
Flirting wi
th an alien is hard work, I lament.
I shrug away the awkward tension that’s thick in the air and take a seat next to him on the log, scooting a little closer than necessary. He slides down a few inches to give me more room. I follow him. When he casts his gaze up at me, I give him an innocent look.
“Any more work getting done today?” I ask.
He shakes his head and indicates our meal.
“Early dinner tonight?”
He nods.
“Then early to bed?”
He glances at me again and I keep my expression neutral…innocent as a baby lamb. Wordlessly he takes the meat from the spit. We have no plates and the food it hot, so he tears off little pieces and passes them to me as they cool.
“This is delicious, Hero. We’re lucky you’re such a good hunter,” I tell him, touching his arm—because who doesn’t love a compliment, right? But he doesn’t respond. I feel like I’m batting zeros over here.
“You don’t seem very talkative tonight,” I point out, letting up on the flirting shtick. Half the time I don’t get this man. I mean, did I say the wrong thing? He’s definitely in one of his moods again and I have no idea what brings them on. If only we could really talk.
I get an idea and scoot a little closer, bumping his shoulder. He looks down at me skeptically.
“Want to hear another story?” I ask, wagging my eyebrows at him.
A slow smile finally softens his features and he nods at me.
“Okay, I’ve got a good one in mind. It’s the story of a bounty hunter my grandma fell in love with during the 90s. She recorded every episode on VHS, but you don’t need to know that part. Okay, are you ready?”
His voice rumbles. I take it as a yes.
“Once upon a time, there was a man. He ‘was a cop, and good at his job, but he committed the ultimate sin—and testified against other cops gone bad. Cops that tried to kill him but got the woman he loved instead. Framed for murder, now he prowls the badlands…an outlaw hunting outlaws…a bounty hunter…a RENEGADE.’” I remember the intro verbatim, but the rest of it I have to just mash together most of my favorite episodes. Unfortunately, the longer I try to tell the tale, the more I realize what a terrible show it was.
