Alien Sex 103

by Allie Ritch

  “Hey, Benni,” he said when the recording started. “Sorry to do this, but I have to postpone laser tag. Friday night work for you? Same time? Call me if that’s a problem. Otherwise, I’ll assume we’re on.”

  He disconnected. Turning away, he took a couple steps before he remembered the blinking message light. With a quick command, he got the recording playing and was pleasantly surprised to see Benni. There were flashing lights cascading over her creamy skin, and he could barely hear her over the blaring music. She must have transmitted this directly from the club after he’d left.

  “Varion, so sorry I missed you tonight.” She teased him with a flirtatious smile. “I’d say it was a snooze without you, but some hot guy kept me entertained. The things he managed in a confined space—wow! I think he had some kind of curly toe fetish, though. You know how some of these lechers are. See you next time, big boy.” Her wink was her only good-bye.

  Good mood restored, Varion grinned as he headed upstairs to the shower. In fact, his mood wasn’t the only thing her message revived. He found himself taking his growing erection in hand as soon as he stepped under the hot spray. It leaped to full attention at the first touch.

  Closing his eyes, he pictured Benni in that stall with her breasts poking out over the top of her blouse. Her nipples drove him crazy. Just like the rainbow of freckles that dotted her milky skin, her areolas weren’t the same color. One was pale lavender, while the other was dusky rose. For some reason, the mismatch lit a fuse inside his testicles and shorted out his brain.

  With one hand leaning against the wall of the shower, he imagined himself in that bathroom stall again, pinning her leg up in a split and sucking on that marvelous tit. His other hand was busy stroking his shaft in nice, hard pulls that didn’t even begin to compare to the feel of her pussy. The image, though—ah gods, the memory—that sure did it for him.

  His thighs trembled, and he thrust his cock through his encircling fingers and into the hard rush of the water. The pelting droplets stung the tip, but that was okay. It was just one more bit of stimulation tangling with the images in his mind to bring him off. Varion pictured her lust-filled eyes, her sweet lips, and then the look of his broad palm covering her mouth to hush her as he pounded her pussy.

  There were voices beyond the stall, audible over her muffled squeaks. His groan was building in his chest, but he held it back. Her vagina was squeezing him so tightly—a ring that massaged him up and down his shaft with every piston of his hips. Benni’s legs remained splayed, one propped almost straight up between his arm and the wall. Her breath was hot and moist where it gusted over the knuckles of his silencing hand. Then her other leg was hooked over his hip, riding him as he rammed her, holding him as her channel contracted along the length of his cock again and again, taking him with her, milking him.

  “Ahhh!”

  Bellowing, he kept his hand pumping as the top of his cock exploded and spit cum all over his shower. In seconds, all evidence had washed away, but he was still left trembling. Gently petting the head of his cock, he tried to regain his breath while the last twitches of orgasm faded inside his balls. It was good—so good—but no substitute for the real thing.

  Varion couldn’t wait to get inside his tasty Flexian again. All he had to do now was wait patiently and figure out what position he wanted to pose her in next.

  Chapter 2

  Game Play

  The sheer power pounding between Benni’s legs had her gasping in delight as she held on for dear life. Under different circumstances, the motion might have gotten her off, but her joy today was far more innocent. You just couldn’t beat riding a purebred equinoid at full gallop.

  Given that the animal had six legs, one would expect a smooth ride. That might have been the case if the middle pair weren’t significantly longer than the appendages fore and aft. The resulting rocking motion threw the rider forward and backward with a jarring impact, like straddling the center of a seesaw that banged the ground on either side. Whiplash was the most obvious hazard.

  Only the bravest of males, fully covered in protective gear, dared to ride one of the beasts. Certainly a petite Flexian woman wearing nothing but a sparkly leotard didn’t belong on one. Riding bareback. While executing acrobatic and contortionist feats.

  The fact that Benni was doing just that five nights a week—three during the off-season—was what gave her a job here at the Trilanta Amusement Park and Fairgrounds. She’d always loved animals since she was a little girl, and she’d learned trick riding the first chance she got. The sport had everything going for it: fun, danger, entertainment, and speed. What wasn’t to like?

  Guiding her tufted stallion, Mumble-Peg, in a broad circle around the arena, Benni pushed up onto her bare feet and stood with her hands raised over her head like a diver. She had to keep her knees bent to maintain her balance, but adjusting her body to the equinoid’s gait was second nature at this point. Slowly, so as to create suspense, she curved her spine and bent backward until her hands touched Mumble-Peg’s shaggy rump and her body arched in a bridge. From this vantage, she had a perfect view of his tail whipping around behind him.

  When the crotchety equinoid dared to slow down, she slapped his flank to keep him at a gallop. Although this elicited a snort from the animal, he knew her well enough not to argue. Blood rushed to her head and exhilaration pounded through her veins as Benni shoved off with her feet and did a full handstand on Mumble-Peg’s wildly bucking backside. That alone qualified as a spectacular display, but she liked to push herself. Assured that her hands weren’t sliding, she shifted her weight a little to the side. Lifting her left hand into the air, she waved at the empty arena chairs for a full ten seconds before she had to flip back into a sitting position or risk losing her balance.

  During her practice sessions, she liked to imagine the roar of applause, even though the place was usually vacant except for the clean-up crew and a few other performers. Today, though, the clapping she heard was real, and it didn’t come from her peers. Although Mumble-Peg’s ears pricked up at the sound, he didn’t bother turning his head. He was used to the attention and expected it as his due. Benni, on the other hand, swung around immediately and was surprised to see a group of businessmen and women standing just inside the opening of the arena. They were dressed in suits and shiny shoes—not at all the right attire for equinoid training. In fact, being in the same vicinity as the beast warranted a sturdy pair of boots at the very least.

  Using her legs to steer, Benni brought Mumble-Peg around to face the newcomers. The moment she drew up close to the static barrier and got a better look at them, her eyes widened in shock.

  “Varion?”

  His skin was lightly tanned, his white blond hair was trimmed rigidly short, and he had the palest gray eyes she’d ever seen, but she knew his body. She knew how it moved and how it looked, even if it was hidden beneath a business suit. Funny, she’d never pictured him as corporate material.

  “Impressive riding,” an older man remarked. “Have you ever fallen off?”

  Although it was an effort to tear her attention away from her lover, Benni smiled and tried to be polite.

  “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t. Anyone who rides for any length of time gets thrown eventually. The trick is to get right back up again.” She laughed. “Of course, considering what you can land in on the way down, there’s no lack of motivation.”

  The man and his friends chuckled.

  “Don’t be fooled,” another voice called. “Benni has been with us for years, and I’ve never once seen her take a tumble. You’d think she was welded to that animal.”

  Beaming at the compliment, Benni saluted the park’s owner. Unlike her visitors, Palli Farr was dressed in jeans, boots, and a long-sleeve synth shirt. She was very hands-on with everything that went on at her park, and she knew all her employees personally.

  Farr greeted her guests. “Gentlemen. Ladies. If you’ll come this way, we can head into my office to talk. I’m in the ma
in building right up this way.”

  The older man who’d talked to her led the way around the outside of the arena.

  Wheeling Mumble-Peg around, Benni brought him parallel to the invisible buffer that kept him from getting too close to the crowds—and vice versa. She and the equinoid kept pace with Varion at the back.

  “So what are you doing here?” she asked him happily. “Was this just a coincidence, or did you know I was here?”

  “Excuse me?” Gray eyes peered at her quizzically.

  “You’re here on business,” she observed, “and you looked just as surprised as I was when I first saw you. I guess this was just chance. What are you working on?”

  “I’m sorry.” His suppressive tone made him sound anything but. “That’s between Mr. Gor and Ms. Farr, Ms. … Benni, was it?”

  She had to give him credit: she’d never seen him keep such a straight face before. Well, with the exception of last night when he’d tempted her into the bathroom, but his expression then had been full of lust. They’d played this little game before.

  “Right. How naughty of me to pry, Mr. … Varion, is it?”

  Something unreadable flashed behind his eyes before he frowned at her. “I’m sorry, but you seem to have mistaken me for someone else.”

  “Oh, come on!” She threw her hands in the air, causing Mumble-Peg to sidestep a couple paces before trudging forward again. “Give it up. I know it’s you, Varion. You can never fool me.”

  But he didn’t smile. Remaining perfectly in character, he narrowed his eyes at her and assumed a harassed expression—the kind that said, “I’m an important business person and don’t have time to deal with riffraff.” It was not a look she’d ever thought to see on his face.

  “Look, I’m not this Varion guy you’re so sure about,” he snapped. “My name is Rion Nach. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

  Mumble-Peg slowed to a stop while Benni gaped at him. Could she have been mistaken? No, after all their time together—all their intimate time together—she knew Varion when she saw him. Apparently, she just didn’t know much else about him.

  *

  “Damn.” Varion cursed under his breath.

  He hated being a jerk to Benni, but she’d caught him by surprise. He hadn’t known what else to do. How could he have guessed she worked here? She hadn’t mentioned riding six-legged animals or performing, yet he’d walked in to see her balanced on one hand on top of that ferocious creature.

  Varion had thought she worked as … well, okay, he supposed they’d never discussed their jobs before. Or where they lived. He scowled. Or their families. All right, so most of their conversations had revolved around going out and having fun or sex, or sometimes just fun sex. That didn’t mean he didn’t know her.

  “Rion, you coming in or what?” Willyem Gor called out.

  Jolted from his thoughts, Varion looked around and discovered he was hovering in the doorway to Palli Farr’s office.

  “Sorry.” He stepped in and closed the door behind him. “I was just worried I’d stepped in something.”

  “City-slicker.” Palli chortled.

  Varion, in his guise as humorless Rion Nach, returned a cool shrug. Secretly, he couldn’t wait to get out of this suit and into something that let him breathe.

  “So, Willyem.” Palli kicked her heels up onto her beat-up desk and waved them to a seat. “What do you say we get right down to business?”

  “Sounds good. You told me just enough during your call to pique my interest.” Varion’s—or rather, Rion’s—boss took the nearest chair.

  Palli just dipped her chin. “As I’m sure you know, the Trilanta Amusement Park and Fairgrounds has been a family business for generations. We were set up here back when this was nothing but a pit stop for pirates and haulers and transitory workers. My many times great grandmother started us out as a tiny rodeo with some showgirls and a couple of backfiring hover carts for rides. The place has grown up a lot since then, but we still remember our roots.

  “That’s why my aunt struck a deal with Bluv Binner some years back to handle our concession and merchandising needs. His was a local family business too. Bluv always did a good job for us, and I’ve got no complaints against him. Junior, though—well, he’s a different matter.”

  “Junior?” Varion asked.

  “Bluv Binner, Jr.,” she clarified. “Bluv’s son isn’t exactly living up to his namesake, though.”

  Willyem’s expression sharpened. “What makes you say that?”

  Palli Farr ran her fingers through her hair and frowned. “That’s what brings you here today. Before I go into the details, though, I want your word that what I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room. Oh, you can act on the information, of course, but I don’t want the particulars being aired in public. Do I have your handshake on that?”

  Curious now, Varion watched as Willyem thought it over and offered his hand. Palli dropped her feet to the floor long enough to reach forward and shake it. The woman looked like she had quite a grip.

  “Good man,” she said. “I’ll give it to you straight then. That Junior is nothing but a worm. He’s been cheating me and skimming from his own company besides. The contract we have with Binner and Son is based on percentages of sales, both at the gate and at the concessions. I have a good idea where he’s pulling his figures out of.”

  “Why tell us?” Varion asked. “You could always have him audited. Or if you have substantial proof that he’s embezzling funds, you could press charges.”

  “All true,” Palli agreed, “but you’re forgetting something. However well deserved, if I start slinging mud, Junior isn’t the only one who’ll get covered in it. It’ll be bad press for the park and fairgrounds, and it’ll tear Bluv’s heart out. Plus Binner and Son’s employees could lose their jobs—people with families to support. I won’t have it.”

  “Again,” Willyem said, “why are you telling us this? Gor and Tabbler would be happy to land such a huge client, but it sounds like you’re still locked in with Binner and Son through this contract.”

  “Yeah, funny thing there.” Palli glanced down at her fingernails. “It seems to me it might be easier for everybody here if someone else—a larger company like, oh, Gor and Tabbler, say—were to take over Binner and Son and their contract. With the way Junior has been cooking the books, I bet he could be persuaded to sell for a fine bargain price. I doubt that little worm will stand up to the threat of jail time.”

  Her eyes flicked back up, and she shot Willyem a direct stare. “Gor and Tabbler has a good reputation. You’ve got your fingers in a lot of pies, Willyem, but everyone says you’re honest, and you know how to make money.”

  Willyem smiled, but Varion could see the shrewd gleam in his boss’s eyes.

  “Will you be having a similar talk with any of my competitors?” Willyem asked.

  “Depends.” She revealed her own savvy. “If a change of hands gets taken care of quickly and quietly, then there’d be no need to shop around. And if that fancy advertising department of yours should give us a hand marketing to the outer planets, well that would be quite a friendly gesture, wouldn’t it? The kind of cooperation that long-term, profitable relationships are built on.”

  Excitement coursed through Varion’s veins as he took in the full import of what was going on here. The biggest recreational facility in Trilanta had just offered up a partnership in exchange for some free advertising and a quiet buy-out of a concession contract any businessman would salivate over. No matter how he looked at it, this meant big bucks. Mr. Vip was going to do cartwheels when Varion told him.

  “I think you’ll find Gor and Tabbler very cooperative.” Willyem stood up to shake her hand again. “Just give me and my team here a little time to look into this … worm problem you’re having. We’ll see if we can take care of it nice and quietly for you.”

  Sharing a smile with him, Palli nodded and led them out. Once they were all piled back into the company veh
icle, Willyem let out a whoop. Varion felt close to dancing himself.

  “Did you hear that?” his boss demanded. “This gets top priority. I want you to start digging into Binner and Son’s accounting right away and find out what it’ll take to buy Junior out without a fuss. Rion, you handle things on our end. Shift some of our holdings around if you have to, but arrange to have a check ready. I want this deal to go through quickly and smoothly.”

  “Yes, sir.” While playing the role of Rion Nach, Varion kept his grin to himself.

  Willyem was silent for a moment, but then he looked up with a warm, satisfied expression. “Do you know, I fell in love with that park the day my father first took me there when I was a boy. The thought of owning even a piece of it… Call me a sentimental fool, but that would be the tail on my comet.”

  The look of nostalgia on the older man’s face was something Varion had never expected. Nor was the tiny twinge of guilt that suddenly pinched his gut. He remained silent the rest of the way back to the office.

  * * * *

  “Idiot.” Mr. Vip’s voice was laced with contempt when Varion called him that night. Fortunately, his real boss wasn’t referring to him. “Did he really think he could keep this quiet? Gor’s getting soft in the head.”

  “Quiet was the one thing Ms. Farr emphasized,” Varion pointed out. “She doesn’t want this information made public for fear of how it will reflect on the park and on the rest of the Binner family.”

  Vip waved the concern away as if it were nothing, but Varion knew he was paying attention.

  “We’ll start digging into those records ourselves,” his boss said. “Discreetly, of course. No need to tip Gor off to our plans. Contact me immediately if Gor and Tabbler starts to make a move. I won’t have them beating us out on this one.”

  “Yes—” The screen went black. “Sir,” Varion finished lamely.

  His boss had disconnected on him. Again.