by Gillian Zane
“We have a table for you in the back, Ms. Flemming,” the bouncer said, pointing her to a seating area in the back corner. It was dark in that area, a little too dark. Most of the time horny VIP patrons would request this booth to get some privacy. She wanted to request another booth, but the place looked crowded and the attendant had already turned away from her.
“Thank you,” she said to no one in particular, and headed to the wide sofa with the twins trailing after her. Anxiety flared in her chest when she looked at the sofa, which, if she was being honest with herself, was basically a skinny bed. Should she sit in the middle and let them sit on either side of her, or should she sit on the end? She was torn, but in the end, she didn’t want to be crowded by them. She sat on the end and one of the twins sat next to her. He turned to her and looked her over from head to toe. That warm feeling she was getting accustomed to when around them flooded her body, pushing away the fear and trepidation and bringing that lust back to the forefront.
“So, I’m Bobbie and you are?” she asked, raising an eyebrow when they both stared at her for too long to be comfortable. The other twin had not sat down next to them, but remained standing. He looked away toward the crowd like he was a bodyguard.
“Yes?” he asked when she made a motion with her hand.
“Your name?”
“Yes, oh yes, my name is Roc,” he said and smiled that forced smile again.
“And your brother?” Bobbie was getting frustrated with this conversation. The two might be the hottest men she had come across in a long time, with their dark hair and bronze skin and very ethnic features, but they weren’t the smartest bulbs in the fan.
She mentally chastised herself for that thought. She was judging them too harshly. It was obvious English wasn’t their first language, maybe they weren’t digesting what was going on well.
“My brother?” he asked looking confused, his smile slipping.
“Uh, yeah, him. I’m assuming he’s your brother since you two are identical.” She pointed to the other man who wasn’t looking at them.
“Brother?” he said again, rolling the word around as if it was taking a bit of time to sink in, or translate. “Oh, him, he is unimportant.”
“I thought twins shared some kind of special bond? Unimportant is kind of mean, don’t you think?” She shrugged when he just looked at confused.
“I find you pleasing,” he said, changing the topic.
“Uh, well, thank you, I find you and your, err, brother pleasing.”
“This is a most unexpected custom your people have. We outlawed it on our wor—in our country. It is refreshing to see that you at least use it for charitable purposes. I hope the money we have issued to this Chuck person helps in your world—country.” That fake smile again, like it was being used to cover up how ridiculously awkward this moment was.
“Charity auctions are outlawed where you’re from?” Bobbie asked confused.
“No, we have charity. Auctions of females are what is illegal. They do not like selling females on my….in my…where I come from,” he stammered for a moment but recovered quickly. “It is considered wrong, since our female to male ratio is so low, usually most transactions of women are handled through families, with an exchange of land, or if the family has a significant position to forfeit.” He said this like it should make total sense to Bobbie. She stared back at him in horror.
“Transaction of women? Um, you do know this is only for one…” Bobbie was interrupted by the lady with the clipboard.
“Ok, Mister…”
“Roc,” Bobbie scoffed.
“Ah, yes, Mister Roc, here is your paperwork, please fill this out.” She thrusted the clipboard into Roc’s twin’s hand, the man looked down at the paperwork, picked up the pen she gave him and began to fill it out.
“Now, how do you plan on paying for this? Would you like to pay with a company check, or a credit card?” the woman asked.
From the inner pocket of his jacket, the unnamed twin withdrew three stacks of bills. He handed them to the woman, along with the clipboard. Both Bobbie and the woman gaped at him like he was out of his mind.
“Oh, okay,” she gasped and then pressed the button to her earpiece. “Joe, can you send security up here, I’m going to need an escort. Thank you, Mister Roc,” she said and hugged the money like a baby. She did a double take when she realized they were identical. “And Mister Roc two.” She grimaced, as her cheesy name registered. Guess she had the same mouth vomit issue as Bobbie.
The woman didn’t move until a big man dressed in black approached them. The woman went to shake the twin’s hand, but he ignored her and went back to scanning the crowd.
“So, Roc—what is it you do for a living? Pharmaceutical sales?” Bobbie asked still astounded by the money.
"Your outer layer is beautiful." Roc ran a finger over Bobbie's exposed knee and she shivered as electrical shocks spiked over her skin and traveled right to her core.
"That was different," she murmured looking down at her knee, uncomfortable with his attention, but excited by it at the same time. She had never had a reaction to a man quite like this. Actual sparks.
A noise from her left and her cheeks flamed red yet again. There was a couple getting a little hot and heavy in the section next to theirs. Roc’s eyes followed hers and he stared without shame at the couple, while Bobbie tried to not make it so obvious. The woman was sitting on her partner’s lap, facing out, and she was not trying to disguise the fact that his hand was merrily rubbing her out. The woman rocked back and forth as the man’s fingers moved in circles between her legs. It was scandalous, but exciting at the same time. From her close proximity to Roc, and the voyeuristic sights, Bobbie was becoming hopelessly turned on by the whole situation. And she did not want to be turned on.
"Is this an acceptable mating area in your culture?" Roc asked. He had moved closer to Bobbie and she shivered as the warmth of his skin touched hers. He didn't sound offended, just curious.
"Not really," Bobbie whispered back. She was a bit put off by the couple’s open display but oddly fascinated with how much the woman was enjoying herself. She couldn't remember the last time she was that into a bit of fingering.
"Their coupling lowers my patience greatly. I would like to engage in a similar act with you." He spoke close to Bobbie's ear, and when she turned her head to gape at his forwardness, their faces were practically touching.
"I think we should get to know each other more, before we—uh, if we—she said, her lips mere millimeters from his. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“You are not a girl, you are a woman, that is pleasing to me,” he parried.
“Is that all it takes, to be pleasing to you, no Y chromosome?”
“I know nothing about chromosomes. I know only that our bodies are connected. I feel the spark. Can you not feel it?”
“I feel something, I don’t know about connected, though. That sounds rather stalkerish.” Bobbie grimaced.
“I can tell your body is preparing itself for mating.”
“Wait, what the—,”
“We are made for each other.”
"I think you might be getting ahead of yourself, mister." Bobbie tried to slide away from him, but Roc's hand slid out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him.
“Your culture dictates mouth to mouth contact as an acceptable first step of the mating process, correct?” He did not give her a chance to respond.
His lips descended on hers and Bobbie stiffened. She half-heartedly tried to pull back, but he was strong and insistent. Her entire body heated under his touch, like a traitor it screamed for more attention. She told herself she had no other choice but to kiss him back. His lips were soft, yet brutal. His mouth plundered hers, pushing past her defenses and sending electric shocks directly to her pussy. Ping. Ping. Ping.
She jerked as those sparks ignited over her skin, seeming to erupt from her veins and pour out onto her body in sizzling waves. Her core flame
d with need so intently that she had to physically break away from the kiss or she would debase herself and lift up her skirt and beg for him to touch so she could release the pressure. She needed to orgasm. Right now.
Gasping, she stared at Roc. Her breasts were heaving, and she placed a hand over her heart as he met her gaze. His face was unreadable, he showed nothing, not affected by the kiss as she was.
"You feel the connection, too," he smiled and this time it looked natural and not forced.
"That was..." she whispered. He reached out and took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.
"Bobbie, I cannot wait to show you my home." He said it sincerely like this was a great honor to do so.
"Okay, but maybe we should go on that date first." She laughed under her breath because she knew she wanted to see his house and maybe his bed, and the floor, the shower, and even the kitchen table. She had never had sex on a kitchen table, but she had read about it a lot. It seemed like quite a nice endeavor to have sex on a table.
"So, I must go on a date with you and then you will go to my home?" he asked, clearly curious.
"Yes, well, maybe...if the date goes well."
"What is a date?"
"Really?" she asked, laughing. He only regarded her with that cool dispassionate look again.
"You know, a date. When a guy takes out a girl, or really, any two potentially romantic duo...doesn't really matter what gender…” She was stammering, and Roc was making no efforts to finish her sentence or help her out of her current blabbering mess.
“A couple, trying to make a romantic connection. They go somewhere and talk, get to know each other. Dinner, coffee, maybe drinks. To see if they are compatible so they can take their relationship to the next level, which is usually another date,” Bobbie finished in a huff, proud of herself that she had finally clarified what a date was.
“I already know we are compatible from our spark and I would like to increase our relationship. There is no reason for a date. We are, well, I will explain later.”
"Oh man, you are something," she murmured as he scooted in closer to her.
“Why am I this something?”
“You are so forward. I think we need to go on the date to get to know each other first. I hope that you respect my wishes, if not we can’t associate.”
“Would this not be a date? By your definition,” he motioned to the space between them.
“Well,” she shrugged.
“See, we are finding our compatibility. Are you ready to see my home?”
"I, well, this is really sudden. I think I'll just give you my number and you can call me, we'll go on that date...and see what happens." She got up as fast as she could and stood over him. She dug in her purse and pulled out a business card, not trusting herself to put it in his hand, she left it on the table.
"Really, call me and we'll set something up. I'm a bit…I don’t know. This is kind of crazy. Just pick next Saturday night, okay? I’m free.” She looked at the twin who was staring off into the crowd, scanning the area. He didn’t once look back at her.
Roc stayed seated, but he looked up at her with a little smile on his lips like what she was saying was cute.
"Call me, really, I can't wait to go on our date," she grimaced at the unintentional similarity to a once popular song, and turned, nearly tripping over her heels as she made a beeline for Viv.
7
Infuriating Females
Roc watched in frustration as his female ran away from him. She had felt the charge. The connection. She had even thought he was attractive, yet still she ran away from him. He didn’t know what to do. He must have her. She was his, he had even bought her. But, she seemed resistant to this purchase.
Had she been taken against her will?
This sometimes happened on other worlds he was familiar with. On some of the more primitive worlds, they would trade and sell their own kind, for either reproduction needs, or to put them to work in the more menial tasks that most didn’t want to do. Roc had thought Earth to be more advanced than to sully in slave trade, but often he was surprised by aliens and their customs.
If she would have been merely attending this social event, he would have had the task of convincing her they were connected and that she must leave with him. While Roc considered himself to be relatively charming, he knew he didn’t have that much charm.
But, she had fled, probably not thrilled about her life as a slave, even if she was attracted to him. He had to get her back. He had to explain to her that he wouldn’t own her. That they would be together as equals. That he was more likely going to be her slave… since the moment he had set eyes on her, she had owned him.
He felt a tightening in his chest as the panic of the loss of her began to manifest. He had lost her. He had let her go because he was too scared to make a move. He wasn’t used to being heavy-handed with anyone. People usually did as he bid, but he knew this might require a bit of heavy-handedness. He didn’t look forward to it, but knew it was probably necessary.
“Oh, where did she go?” The woman from earlier, the one he had paid off, came back to the table.
“She left,” Roc said, the words making things real, tightening his chest further.
“Oh, what a shame, but look her phone number is on these papers. Make a date, and then text me with it. I’ll set everything up.” The woman handed Roc a sheet of paper and he folded it and stuck it in his pocket.
“Fine.” He stood and moved away, using his extra muscle to clear a path, the woman sputtering behind him.
He looked across the crowd, but couldn’t see the female anywhere. Her hair color would stand out in the sea of browns and yellows. He needed to find her, and fast, before she disappeared from his life forever.
Roc began to push his way through the crowd, leaving the VIP area and going across the dance floor so he could get to the elevators, or whatever would get him to the ground floor quicker. That had to be where she was going. It was the way she had come in, that must be where she was going.
“Oh Papi, stay and play with me.” Warm female arms went around his neck and the scent of woman filled his nostrils. It wasn’t his woman, but it was a female, something so rare for him. He had only bedded one female in his lifetime, and only because she was a widow looking for comfort. His people don’t usually have recreational sex with the opposite sex. Since females are so rare and inaccessible, most are married off as soon as they are of age. Widows and barren females being the only ones with the freedom to take many lovers.
The woman pressed against him was the one from the line, he could smell the alcohol on her breath, and the loose way her limbs hugged him. She giggled and moved to the music, the warm spot between her legs brushing against his dick which hadn’t gone down since he had found Bobbie. She purred when she felt his erection and he growled, using his other hand to pull her off him and set her aside.
“Find another willing male,” he told her from his other manifestation while he headed in the direction of the elevators.
“Asshole!” she called from behind him, but he cared nothing about how she thought of him. All he cared about was the beauty who had run away from him.
Roc all but limped to the elevator, groaning as he saw the crowd waiting to call it up. It was primitive transportation, but it was the only one available. He glanced around and saw a sign that said stairs. They were on the 48th floor, but a descent had never phased Roc. He opened the door and took the stairs two at a time. In mere minutes, he was in the lobby with only a hint of sweat on his forehead.
The night air was cooler than it was in the lobby and he took a deep breath as he hurried out onto the sidewalk. There was a bustle of activity in this area with men wearing red vests running back and forth, and a sign that said Valet in big, bold letters on the sidewalk. A black car screeched to a halt and a man and female got out of the car, and without even looking at him, the man tossed his keys at Roc.
“Take care of her,” he called as stepped onto t
he curb, put his arm around the girl, and headed to the building.
It was a gift from the creators, was all Roc could think when he slid behind the wheel of the primitive conveyance. It was time to find his possession. His Charge Mate.
8
Prudes & prejudices
"I'm leaving," Bobbie said out of breath as she found Viv on the dance floor.
"Why?!" Viv stopped dancing and turned to her.
"It got a little intense with the guy who bought me!" she exclaimed. "Thanks for that, by the way." She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Intense, like he's a creep, or intense like your toes want to curl? I saw them, the twins, right? So fucking hawt…” She fanned herself and bowed her head as if under a great weight.
“Yes! And the toes," Bobbie said reluctantly.
"Then why are you leaving? Get back there and take one for the team!" Viv pushed on her, but Bobbie wasn't moving.
"I'm going home. It just got weird. I'll go on my date with him, hopefully we'll have great sex somewhere I can control the situation, and then we'll see where it goes. Right now, I do not want to get pounded like some hooker in a public place. Not my idea of a good time."
"You're no fun, orgasms in public are more intense.”
“I want to go.”
“I’m not leaving, so if you want to run away, get yourself home on your own. I’m doing this because I care about you and your lady parts—which need attention. Not because I’m a bad friend.”
"You're such a bitch sometimes," Bobbie frowned at her friend, but she didn't really mean it.
"I'm just looking out for you, you know you need this. If they have you all hot and bothered this quickly, you need to get naked with one or both of them. Both preferably, a little bit of double penetration.” Viv made a crude gesture with her hands and Bobbie gasped.
"I'm not getting naked with anyone tonight." Bobbie stepped back and held up her hands. “I don’t even know them!”
