by Emily Tilton
His come. His seed, Hailey thought with a blush but also another pussy clench. It made her feel so slutty to have semen on her back. And yet if she thought she had needed his cock before, the sensation of his liquid sexual essence on her skin, because he had decided to ejaculate outside of her, for his own pleasure and her own good, seemed to increase her craving a hundredfold. She needed his penis and she needed his semen, and he would train her to be a pleasing receptacle for both of them.
Pierre seemed to feel a corresponding desire—or at least Hailey hoped desperately that the way he picked her up from the ottoman and carried her upstairs to her bedroom meant he did. She nestled her cheek into the flannel of his shirt and closed her eyes, thinking of how she had imagined being carried this way, by a vague princely figure, over the threshold of a bridal chamber. Hailey generally had more sense than that, but she shared with a great many girls, she knew, those basic fantasies that she suddenly understood could be seen—when looked at from the proper angle—as a need for just the kind of dominance it seemed Mr. LeGrand had brought into her life tonight.
She didn’t understand how her princess fantasies had suddenly broken out into the modern life she had intended to lead—the world of the beer and the horror movie and of going to college—but something in Pierre’s touch, it seemed, had changed everything… or, well, maybe not everything, in that worn-out romantic sense… she still wanted to go to college, she realized, for example. But… she needed…
I need cock, she thought with a flare of heat in her face that felt like a solar eruption, as Pierre laid her down on her pink-comfortered bed. I need training for his penis, by his penis.
Hailey didn’t know how to reconcile the thoughts of modern womanhood with the frank tones in which it seemed her heart and mind—and pussy—intended to voice their new cravings. She did know that, despite the way Pierre’s kisses, from her lips to the nipples he uncovered by making her raise her arms so that he could strip off her t-shirt to the pussy he brought a warm washcloth to clean and soothe, made her feel like a naughty princess, she didn’t have any romantic illusions about the situation. She wanted sex more than she had ever expected to want it. She wanted to submit to an older man, a thing she had never let herself think about before, really, despite the dreams. For reasons she didn’t understand at all, unless her body’s needs had simply overpowered her, nothing else seemed to matter.
Pierre tasted her for a long, long time, as Hailey lay back on her pink bed. He pressed her knees back to her chest and held her still, so he could have his way with her pussy, tonguing her clit hard and then running kisses down her tender inner lips until Hailey screamed with helpless pleasure, and climaxed over and over.
“We’ll take this hair away tomorrow,” Pierre murmured after the third orgasm. “I want you smooth down here.”
“Yes, sir,” Hailey responded. She wanted her pussy and her bottom to look just the way he thought it should, because then he would fuck her as often as she knew, now, she needed. She had closed her eyes so that she wouldn’t have to see the embarrassing sight of Pierre’s red hair, his rosy forehead shining with some of the arousal that seemed to flow from her pussy like a fountain, moving up and down as he enjoyed her with his mouth. Now she opened them, as he drew his face away, to see him looking down at her, and she felt certain she knew what would come next.
He used his mouth on me, so I have to use my mouth, too, don’t I?
“Have you ever given a blowjob, honey?” Pierre asked, a little smile on his lips but the firmness in his voice making it very clear that Hailey’s answer wouldn’t have any effect on whether she would give one now: Pierre meant to enjoy her mouth whether it was her first time doing the shameful thing or not.
He stood up, letting her legs down gently so that her feet, hanging over the side of the mattress, rested on the floor. Hailey was crosswise across the double bed, her head on a pillow Pierre had moved down from the headboard when he first laid her down to open her up and taste her pussy.
Hailey shook her head in response to the mortifying question, as with wide eyes she watched him unbutton his flannel shirt at last, so that his red-furred chest came into view. The sight made her feel a little faint, especially with his hard cock down below, jutting out at her. She wanted to give her first blowjob so badly, all of a sudden, that she almost sat up and reached for Pierre’s penis, almost fell to her knees in front of him.
He had a different idea, though, and as soon as he had dropped the shirt to the floor he climbed up onto the bed, straddling Hailey’s tummy. She gave a little cry at how close the cock had suddenly come, and then Pierre had brought it even closer, kneeling over her with his strong thighs enclosing her shoulders and his right hand in her hair.
Hailey’s breath came so quickly she thought she might faint, but her need to serve Pierre’s cock, to worship it, made her open her mouth and stick out her tongue. She looked up at him, desperate to see pleasure on his face, and the smile with which he rewarded her made her heart feel light.
“Good girl,” he said softly, and drove his manhood deep into her mouth.
Chapter Nine
The Zedaar did not communicate again until the next morning, because Nick Strauss had fallen asleep soon after ejaculating in Janice’s mouth. Zedaari messaging relied on the interaction of their hosts’ neural nets with dark matter nodes located between electrons and positrons in the molecules that constitute what humans called matter. The focusing of electrostatic energy that humans knew as consciousness was required for Zedaar to talk to one another, and the recovery period humans called sleep had evolved in them precisely to allow the capacity for that focus to rest and regenerate. Although the Zedaar continued to be aware of their hosts’ bodies and, in a limited way, the world around them through the fragments of the sensorium that remained active even in the humans’ unconscious state, the essential vehicle of their actions was absent.
Thus the alien inside Nick Strauss’ mind had time to reflect, as Nick slept, on how best to approach the next phase of the move-thing project. Getting Nick Strauss and Pierre LeGrand to the ore deposit would present no challenge—the humans had already arranged the meeting. With Pierre’s position as the chief executive of a mining company, the actual extraction of the ore should prove nearly as easy: the sum total of the deposit would scarcely fill one of the dump trucks the Zedaar had seen through his host’s eyes as Nick Strauss had driven home through town.
Getting an excavator and a dump truck to the site of the move-thing deposit, however, seemed likely to prove the most difficult part. The thing the humans called a road would have to be laid, and many of the large growths called trees would presumably have to be cut down. The Zedaar counted itself lucky in having invaded the mind of a human who could both locate the move-thing deposit and make decisions concerning the removal of trees from the area surrounding it, but even in a region as sparsely populated as this one it knew that other humans would notice the work.
Some of those humans would certainly observe the activity from beyond the very limited range inside which the Zedaar could exert the sort of influence they had used upon Janice Strauss and Hailey Miller—nor did that influence constitute a level of control that could prevent a sapient being from becoming aware of an alarming development in the being’s environment. Nor, in the absence of a move-thing installation to supply the special sort of energy required, could a Zedaar move from host to host: the two aliens inside the two Canadians were stuck there until they—or some other Zedaar—had completed their primary mission. There was no way to control other human hosts the way they controlled Nick Strauss and Pierre LeGrand, so humans would in all likelihood notice a new road being laid through the Fotherville forest—Nick’s Zedaar calculated the probability of the occurrence at greater than seventy percent, and the unusual species had not gotten to their advanced state by gambling against the odds.
It would be unamusing to have to call in more Zedaar: without a move-thing installation on Earth the interste
llar communication would take several human weeks, during which the Zedaar in Nick Strauss and Pierre LeGrand would undoubtedly grow bored even with the many varieties of human fucking in which they intended to engage. Toward morning, as the humans reckoned time, the alien in Nick Strauss began to wonder if another, less conspicuous, sort of plan might prove both quicker and more effective.
When Nick Strauss awoke at last, and through his host’s eyes the Zedaar could see that the clock showed a time of 6:47 in the humans’ twenty-four-hour cycle, he reached out to his colleague in the mining executive human, but found that the Pierre LeGrand host must still be asleep. The Zedaar wondered for a moment how deep into the Earth night Pierre LeGrand had fucked Hailey Miller, and decided Nick Strauss should at least fuck his mate’s vagina before rising from bed, and then issue instructions for Janice’s preparations to receive the penis in her anus in the evening. To experience the fucking of the woman’s vagina would at least amuse the Zedaar until it could converse again with its colleague.
* * *
Nick frowned as the memory of the previous night came back to him. For a moment he felt entirely certain it must all have been a dream, and he looked over at Janice, sleeping sweetly on her side of the bed, curled up and smiling a little, expecting to feel the light pang of guilt he usually had when he woke up from that kind of dream. No, of course, even Janice couldn’t blame him for having a sexy dream about her doing the sort of thing in bed she would never actually do, but that didn’t keep Nick from that little bit of shame.
But something about the smile on his wife’s face stopped his reflexive emotion in its tracks. Nick couldn’t have said exactly how he knew that even in sleep Janice’s expression conveyed her newfound submission to her husband’s mastery, but he suddenly had no doubt at all that he had spanked her, she had knelt before him, and he had used her mouth as a lovely, soft place to thrust his hardness until he had made her swallow every drop of his seed.
Then, for another instant, he waited for his guilt about having done that, about having taken his wife in hand at last, to kick in. In that fraction of a second he felt completely sure that when he did feel the requisite remorse it would weigh on him crushingly. Days of pleading for forgiveness would ensue.
The guilt never came. Nick felt his eyes widen a little.
He looked inside himself, as he looked at Janice, and he thought, to his surprise though the startlement only lasted another moment, I did what I should have done years ago. Janice needs her husband’s cock, and she’s going to get it regularly from now on, hard and deep, whenever I feel like giving it to her.
Nick felt like making Janice have her husband’s cock in her pussy, in fact, right then. The flood of mental pleasure at his inward affirmation of spanking her little bottom and making her suck his penis for the first time had made him hard down there in very short order.
He reached out to stroke his wife’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Sweetheart,” he said softly.
Janice’s eyes opened, and looked into his lovingly—more lovingly than he could remember them looking in a very long time. Then, as she obviously remembered the previous night, they went wide, and her lips parted. The pink came to her cheeks only a moment later. She clearly wanted to speak, but Nick saw that she must be poised between rejecting what had happened and asking for more, and he smiled in return—reassuringly, but also a little seriously.
“Roll over and lie on your tummy, Janice,” he said. “I’m going to fuck you from behind.”
Nick pulled back the comforter and the top sheet to reveal his wife’s lovely little body without a stitch of clothing to hide her sexy beauty. He had made her take off all her clothes and sleep naked, after he had come in her mouth, as a lesson in obedience, so there was neither a nightgown to pull up nor panties to pull down. Janice looked back at him in alarm, her brow creasing. Nick watched her eyes go down to see how hard his cock had gotten at the thought of having her in that degrading position, as she had called it the one time Nick had mentioned it to her.
“But…,” she said, clearly wanting to seize on any available excuse. “I need to pee, Nick.”
“You may go to the bathroom after I’ve fucked you, sweetheart. Now do as I’ve said.”
Janice bit her lip and her frown deepened. Nick could see that his command excited several different emotions in her, but he had no doubt that arousal represented one of the strongest.
“Don’t make me start your day with a whipping, Janice,” he said warningly. He took the firm pillows from under his head and laid them halfway down the bed, watching his wife’s reaction to this preparation for her first fucking in a posture she had thought her husband would never enforce upon her. Her cheeks had gone very red, now. “Get over the pillows, or I’m going to put you over them and give you the belt before I use your pussy.”
Janice’s jaw dropped at the frank and filthy language that suddenly seemed to come so naturally to Nick. He didn’t even wonder now at the way such dominant things flowed directly from some primal part of his mind into the stern instructions he already seemed to have accustomed himself to issuing to his pretty wife. He meant to make his cock feel good in her pussy before he went to work, and he had no intention of letting Janice delay his pleasure.
The thought that before the previous evening he would never have dared command his wife to present her backside over the pillows for a good, hard morning fucking before even relieving herself on the toilet did occur to him. It simply didn’t matter, though, for reasons Nick couldn’t have articulated except to say that from now on he meant to take Janice in hand, and have his way in the bedroom and anywhere else he decided to fuck her. If she proved reluctant to have her natural need for cock supplied by her husband in the style he chose, her bare bottom would pay the price, and she would receive regular whippings until she learned a wife’s proper place in an old-fashioned household like the one Nick intended to run from henceforth.
“Please, Nick,” she said. “Please… can’t I… can’t I lie on my back for… you know?”
“For fucking, Janice?” Nick asked, raising his eyebrows.
She drew her lips into a tight line and gave a little nod, the crease in her brow so deep now that Nick wondered if it hurt.
“No, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to fuck you from behind for a long time, and I’m going to do it now. Remember what I told you will happen tonight, too. You’re going to have my penis in your bottom soon enough, so you should get used to having the kind of sex you think is degrading. Last chance: get over the pillows or I’ll put you there after I get my belt.”
Janice’s whole face puckered in distress that Nick sensed was mingled so thoroughly with arousal that his wife must feel a terrible conflict even in acknowledging it to herself. She closed her eyes and then opened them, so that she could clamber over the pillows, her face to the crisp white fitted sheet that she had ironed the day before.
“Please be gentle?” she pleaded, looking back over her shoulder at Nick as he rose to his knees to straddle her sweet backside.
“No, Janice,” he said. “You know I’m not going to be gentle, and you don’t want me to be. I want you to say, Fuck me hard, sir, in my little cunt. You need to learn to talk dirty, and to show me how much you love getting it when your husband wants to use you.”
Nick guided the head of his iron-hard cock to the soaking-wet opening of his wife’s pussy.
“You’re wetter than you’ve ever been for me, sweetheart,” he said, as she moaned at his positioning himself to thrust inside her. “Say it, or I’m going to have to whip you.”
As he had anticipated, she gave a little cry at the threat, and her pussy clenched around him. He pushed his hardness inside her a little further.
“I can’t!” Janice sobbed. “Please…”
“Say it, or you won’t be sitting down for the rest of the day, while you wait for your first bottom-fucking.” The pleasure of her velvet pussy nearly overcame his resolve not to thrust in before she had obey
ed his command, but Nick held firm.
“Oh, God…” Janice whispered, and then, “Fuck me hard, sir, in my little cunt.”
Animal instinct took hold of Nick. He held his wife’s hips and drove hard into her tight vagina. Crouching over her, he surged in and out, feeling his climax waiting only a few moments away, so turned on had the scene of her submission gotten him.
Under her husband, Janice started to come almost as soon as the fucking began. She writhed beneath him, riding the pillows, pushing back against him, the primal need clearly as urgent upon her as upon him. He felt her shudder with climax after climax, until the fourth or the fifth one brought on his own orgasm, and he shouted, driving his cock home with a final vigorous thrust, and felt his seed shoot deep into his wife’s sweet pussy.
Chapter Ten
By the time Nick Strauss had finished fucking his mate, the Zedaar in Pierre LeGrand’s mind had begun to communicate again with the one in Nick’s.
My host wishes to fuck Hailey Miller again, and she is sucking his penis and saying she wants to be fucked, but it seems she must leave for her educational facility. Pierre LeGrand seems to have little experience with what the humans call ‘family life.’ What would your host do?
The alien inside the park ranger searched his host’s memories and emotions for a picosecond.
He would tell Hailey Miller she must go to the educational facility, and help her get ready ‘for school’ as it seems they call it. He would probably hold her close in his arms and kiss her hair.
Nick Strauss was currently holding his mate, stroking her hair and kissing her. This activity, which the humans apparently called cuddling, did not amuse the Zedaar as much as fucking did, but the alien could tell it helped the humans a great deal in maintaining emotional integrity.
