Alien Penetration
By
Kaitlyn O’Connor
© copyright by Kaitlyn O’Connor, June 2009
Cover Art by Eliza Black, June 2009
ISBN 978-1-60394-318-5
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
Exhilaration swelled within Simone as she crossed the parking lot and sensed the almost electric excitement that seemed to vibrate the very air around her. It was more than the deep bass that pulsed rhythmically through the pavement beneath her feet and made its way all the way up through the soles of her shoes and inside of her. It was more than the song, although she realized as she drew closer to the nightclub that it was a favorite and the tempo made her heart thump a little harder, made her feel suddenly as if she was moving to the rhythm she found so appealing. Every step, every pulse of her heart, even the sway of her body seemed to synchronize with the rhythm, seemed transformed into dance, but it was only a manifestation of the joy surging through her, not the cause of it.
She felt as giddy as a teenager on her first night of freedom, looking forward to her first taste of the nightlife, when her entire life lay before her as one great adventure she couldn’t wait to experience.
She was looking forward to meeting up with her friends and discovering what the ‘special treat’ was that they’d thought up to surprise her with for her birthday, but there was nothing particularly special about the birthday itself. In point of fact, she’d begun to dread each anniversary that marked her as another year older, another year past her peak ‘freshness date’. If not for the card she’d received in the mail, she thought it was more likely that she would being looking forward to her night with more dread than anticipation. Very likely she would’ve been trying to think of a way to wiggle off the hook and stay home to mope.
The unthinkable had happened, though—she hoped.
She’d tried to tamp the almost hysterical thrill that had swamped her when she’d finally gotten over the shock of the card. She’d tried not to allow hope to take hold, to brace herself for bad news, and had failed miserably.
Tomorrow, her heart might be broken, but tonight she was going to allow herself to believe because she couldn’t prevent it.
Sharon and Denise were standing in the doorway waiting for her, she discovered, drinks in hand and a buzz already going if their behavior was any indication. The minute they spied her, they started jumping up and down, screaming and giggling, as if they were teenagers when it was as far behind them as it was her. In point of fact, both of them were ‘settled’ and had been for several years at least. In the real world, Sharon was a mother of three—two of which were already in school, or at least pre-school. Denise only had one chick so far, but she’d given her husband notice that ‘they’ would be pregnant again before the end of the year. She didn’t want too much of an age difference between her children.
Maybe they were going through their second childhood, Simone thought ruefully, trying to tamp the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks as she waved back at them?
Both women surged forward, breaking the line going in and pointing her out, reminding the cashier that they’d already paid her cover charge. The cashier turned to look at her and motioned her forward.
Glancing apologetically at the people in line around her, Simone inched around them and held out her hand for the man at the door to stamp it.
Sharon and Denise grabbed her the minute he’d finished and dragged her through the door and inside the nightclub. The noise hit her like a physical blow. The club was rocking and filled, Simone thought a little worriedly, past the legal capacity. Was it typical of the place, she wondered? Or was something special on the agenda for the night?
Talking ninety miles an hour, her two friends plowed their way through the crowd, dragging her behind them. She had no idea what their destination was or what they were saying since she could only catch a word now and then over the buzz of conversations around her and the blaring music. Nothing of any real significance, she was sure, but she smiled and nodded whenever they glanced at her.
It had been a while since she’d been in a bar—several years, although she wasn’t in the mood to figure it up. She couldn’t see that things had changed much … except that she and her friends seemed to fit more into the ‘older’ crowd instead of the younger crowd that made up the vast majority of partiers as they once had.
The cloud of smoke floating nearly the ceiling was absent, too, she noted unhappily, immediately feeling the pull for a shot of nicotine just because she knew she couldn’t have it.
She’d always been out of sync with the world, she thought ruefully, but she’d made up her mind to quit like everyone else had or was trying to do these days.
And the world was going to be like Eden when all the smokers were gone, she thought sarcastically, and no one would ever be sick again!
She banished her smokers’ rant from her mind with an effort, pushing the urge to rush outside and smoke one back at the same time and forced a smile to her lips when she saw that Sharon and Denise had led her to an elevated area in the very back of the club.
Embarrassment flooded her all over again when she saw they’d decorated the area set aside for her party. Carla, Meg, and Shelly, friendly acquaintances from work, bounded up from the benches around the picnic style table and bounced enthusiastically when she arrived, screaming, “Yeah! The birthday girl!”
Oh god! How long had they been waiting, she wondered?
“Now we can par-ty!”
Simone couldn’t help but chuckle. “Y’all look like you’ve already been partying!”
They all looked at each other blankly a moment and burst out laughing. Sharon signaled frantically for a waitress. “You’re two jell-shots and one mixed drink behind us! You’ll have to catch up!”
Discomfort and reluctance flickered through Simone, but after a moment she dismissed it. She hadn’t planned on getting drunk, but her friends had gone to a lot of trouble. She didn’t want to be a party-pooper!
Shrugging, she took the two jell-shots Sharon paid for and downed them, then ordered a slow-gin fizz. The shots hit her nearly empty stomach like a volcanic explosion. A wave of dizziness rolled over her within seconds. The ‘girls’ laughed uproariously when she wobbled in her seat and grabbed the edges of the table. “My god!
What was in that?”
“Absolute devastation!” Denise shot back at her, laughing. “Knocked you on your ass!”
Duh! It felt like her eyeballs were rolling around in her head independently. “Oh yeah,” she agreed, chuckling.
“Alrighty, then! Before we all get too snockered to figure out who brought what, you have to do the unwrapping thing!”
“Oh, you didn’t!” Simone exclaimed. She’d noticed the pile of gifts on the table immediately, of course, but she’d thought it was just there for decoration.
“Shut up and open them!” Sharon ordered her, grabbing one from the pile and shoving it at her. “This is from me.”
A bizarre sense of unreality swept over her, but Simone grinned at her long time friend and tore at the package with slightly exaggerated enthusiasm for her friend’s benefit. Two tiny pieces of fabric joined with long, thin straps fell out on the table. It was cherry red—whatever it was. Simone stared at it blankly.
Sharon uttered a snorting, crow of a laugh and snatched it up to display it. “Swim suit!”
“Where’s the rest of it?” Simone asked, strugglin
g with a mixture of horror and amusement.
Sharon ‘modeled’ it for them, holding the itsy bitsy top over her breasts and then swinging the even briefer bottom by one finger. “This is it!”
“I’m not wearing that—anywhere!” Simone said, laughing.
“Yes, you are!” Sharon and Denise both exclaimed in a singsong chorus, wearing almost identical conspiratorial grins.
Her drink arrived. Denise threw a bill on the tray before Simone could drag money out to pay. “Nope! Birthday girl doesn’t pay—until we run out of money, anyway!”
More than a little uncomfortable, Simone smiled and thanked them, taking a fortifying sip before she picked up the next package and looked at it suspiciously. She already had a hell of a buzz from the two shots, but she wasn’t nearly toasted enough that it didn’t occur to her that her ‘gifts’ were probably going to get progressively more embarrassing.
She wouldn’t have worried about it if she had been toasted, or if she could’ve convinced herself that no one else would notice. Her friends were making such a fuss, though, that they were attracting attention despite the fact that the place was packed and noisy enough no one should have paid them the least attention.
It was all in fun, she chided herself, and it wasn’t as if she actually knew anybody except her friends. Like them think what they liked!
Shrugging inwardly, she braced herself and opened the next package. She hadn’t adequately braced herself, she realized. A wave of shocked horror went through her when she saw the larger-than-life—she wasn’t going to believe the thing was lifesized!—penis drop to the table.
“This little jewel is called ‘black beauty’,” Meg crowed proudly, holding it up for display on the palm of her hand for all to see and adding as she turned it on, “I put the batteries in.”
It didn’t just vibrate! The damned thing danced! Simone gaped at it in horrified fascination while the ‘girls’ went wild, giggling like teenagers and screaming with laughter.
Simone could feel her face flashing like a neon sign. She covered her mouth, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh … my … god! Put that thing down before anybody sees it!”
Too late! She could hear snickers from all around them—mostly female.
She wasn’t surprised the men found it less than amusing considering it was probably ten inches long from the vibrating ‘balls’ to the tip, at least, and as thick as her wrist! Leaping from her seat, she made a grab for it.
Meg laughed and tossed it to Shelly. Shelley screamed, bounced it in her hands a few times and dropped it. It began to ‘crawl’ across the table like an inchworm toward Denise. Uttering a horrified laugh, Denise batted it across the table toward Sharon.
Sharon studied it wide-eyed, as if it was a serpent inching toward her.
Grabbing it at last, Simone shoved it under the wrapping paper, blindly searching it with her hands for the off switch.
“Look! She likes it! She’s petting it!” Carla said with a slightly drunken giggle.
“Shut up!” Simone said, laughing. “How do you turn the damned thing off?”
Relieved when she finally found the switch and the dildo stopped its little dance, Simone settled back in her seat, trying to recover her tattered dignity.
“Have another sip of your drink,” Sharon advised. “Next!”
Groaning, Simone decided to take her advice. Some ‘don’t give a damn’ was exactly what she needed. She’d just taken a deep sip of her drink, however, when the damned dildo started vibrating again, shaking the wrapping paper tent she’d formed over it. She almost strangled on her drink.
“Oh my god! It’s alive!” Sharon announced at the top of her lungs.
Everyone jumped up and dove for it at once. Sharon beat it with the string bikini she’d brought, Carla swatted it with a piece of wrapping paper, and Shelly slapped at it with her hand.
“Hey! Cut it out! You’ll hurt him!” Meg said, grabbing it and ‘cuddling’ it against her cheek. “Poor baby!” She sat it down on the table and shook her finger at it.
“Bad boy! Behave yourself!”
Taking their cue from Meg, the others started behaving as it was a puppy.
Simone covered her face with her hands. When she finally peeked between her fingers she discovered they’d set it in the middle of the table like a centerpiece and draped the string bikini over it.
“Now mine!” Shelly demanded, springing to her feet and grabbing another package.
“I need another shot before I tackle it,” Simone announced ruefully, glancing around for the waitress.
Her mind went completely blank when she spied a trio of men who’d just reached the bar across from her and turned in her direction to prop their elbows on the bar behind them. Her heart leapt in her chest and stilled painfully.
The first actual thought that filtered through the shock was that they looked like they’d just stepped off of a movie set. All three of them were wearing black leather boots and pants—black cowboy hats and dark t-shirts that molded itself as lovingly to every rippling muscle down their broad chests and washboard abs as the leather pants did their lean, muscular legs, cupping some very impressive packages. All three had long, straight black hair that fell well past their broad shoulders and hard, angular faces.
It was deeply disappointing that the light was so ambient that it cast as much of them in shadow as it highlighted.
Indians dressed like cowboys? Wait! That wasn’t PC anymore. Native Americans dressed like cowboys?
Beyond the black hair and their swarthy complexions she didn’t even know why it had popped into her mind that they were Native Americans. They could’ve been Spanish or Asian. Asian seemed more likely and yet, unless the boots and cowboy hats were really deceptive, they looked exceptionally tall to belong to either race—easily six foot, every one of them.
Or maybe they really were cowboys, just plain old, home grown white boys with dark tans? From the circuit? Their muscular arms almost seemed disproportionately large—clearly they used them a lot to have such well developed arms.
“Oh my god! Would you look at that?” someone breathed in an awed voice that finally broke the trance that had held Simone.
Feeling as if she was waking from a dream, Simone glanced around the table.
It was hard to say which of her friends had uttered the remark. All of them were gaping at the three strangers, lounging as coolly with their elbows propped on the bar behind them as if they were completely unaware of the attention they’d attracted.
Wondering if she’d been gaping at them with that same vacuous look on her face, afraid she had been, Simone searched a little frantically for a distraction and finally remembered she’d been looking for the waitress.
She discovered her, staring at the same three men.
At least half the women in the bar were. It was almost as if the moment they strolled in half the place had gone into suspended animation—the female half! The men hadn’t failed to notice them, either because the women had completely forgotten where they were or because they practically oozed testosterone and the animosity in their contemptuous glances was almost palpable.
She had to say one thing for the cowboys, the guys must have balls the size of bowling balls to take that kind of perusal and keep their cool.
Or maybe they were just that used to having so many women all but drooling over them? And that many men contemplating murder?
That thought certainly didn’t come as an epiphany. She couldn’t really tell much about the faces beyond the squared jaws and the forceful chins but, with bodies like theirs, they’d have to look really scary to ward off females.
“Shelly!” she finally prompted.
Shelly turned to look at her blankly, looked down at her extended hands, and then at the package she was holding. “Oh!” She shook her head.
It seemed to bring them all out of their trances. Looking vaguely embarrassed, their enthusiasm a little forced, they clapped merrily as Simone took the gift. A
cutely conscious of the men even though she knew it wasn’t likely they’d even noticed her or her friends, Simone tore one corner playfully and peered in at it. She was glad she had.
She looked up at Shelly accusingly.
Shelly laughed. “It isn’t what you think it is. It’s candy!”
“What kind of candy?” Denise demanded.
Simone sent her a look. She didn’t believe for a moment they didn’t all know what was in the packages. She didn’t finish opening the candy penis sculpture. Instead, she passed it around the table. Everyone peeked in at it, looked shocked for a split second and then started laughing.
“What flavor is it?”
“White chocolate, what else?”
“Is this a hint?” Simone demanded when she opened the next and saw it was a lacy thong with a transparent matching top. “What’s the theme? Enjoy it while you’ve got it?”
They all laughed and nodded.
Oh yeah! Make me feel good that the next milestone coming up is going to be thirty, Simone thought wryly.
She was relieved when she finally got to the end of the unwrapping—until Sharon took the cake out. Thankfully, it only had three candles for health, wealth, and happiness, otherwise the club owners might’ve had to call the fire department.
She’d been working hard to ignore the men at the bar, but she was keenly aware of them in a way that made her skin prickle all over and she finally yielded to the impulse to glance at them again, hoping to get a better look.
It threw her into a minor panic to discover they seemed to looking directly at her.
Instinctively, she turned to look behind her to see who they might be watching.
Surprised when she discovered the table behind her was now empty, she looked toward the bar again in confusion.
The one in the middle smiled faintly and then glanced at his companions.
It was extremely disturbing that that sent a thrill all the way to her toes when she wasn’t even really certain the guy had been looking at her. Trying to shake the hope/suspicion that he might be interested, she determinedly focused on the conversation her friends were trying to carry on. She had the distinct feeling, though, that they hadn’t been able to dismiss the cowboy hunks any more easily than she had.
Alien Penetration Page 1
