by Calista Skye
He kisses me again, softly, but also with need.
I place one hand on his head, right on top of the alligator-skin pattern. It's smooth and supple, leathery and warm, alien and perfect. “I like this,” I moan, not even sure what I mean, just that it's true.
“And I like this.” Xan'tor puts his mouth right on a nipple, running a textured tongue over it and forcing it to contract and stiffen. Then the other, playing me like a finely tuned instrument.
And just like an instrument, I make the noises he intends. A moan escapes me, letting him know it works.
He takes his time with my breasts, exploring and exploiting them, creating more noises until I whimper with a wordless need for something more.
Then he moves down my front, always taking his time, caressing the skin and breathing on it, his fingers teasing and drawing light circles while his mouth and tongue leave patches of delightful heat on a meandering course down my body. He's an artist, as well as an expert instrument player.
His mouth touches a spot halfway down my stomach, and the knowledge suddenly hits me that he intends to keep going all the way down. My whole body jerks involuntarily, my pelvis pushing up into the air with sheer need.
He chuckles and moves his smooth attentions to the side and down, bypassing the neediest part of me and leaving a trail of delight down the inside of one thigh. Then he moves up again, keeping my attention so focused on each little touch that nothing else exists than the next one.
He moves down the other thigh, getting a little closer to my sex, which has to be absolutely steaming.
I whimper again, thrusting my pelvis up into empty air, my body trying to tell him that it wants him there.
Of course, he already knows that. But this is his show, not mine. I'm only the instrument, the canvas. I make no decisions here. And that sets me free to just be, to just enjoy.
He uses his mouth and all his fingers around my pussy, firmly enough to signal his intent. He swirls across the sensitive skin, leaving little vortices of lust and care.
He will get there. But not just yet.
Yes, I get it. He wants me to know that he's in charge, that I just have to submit and trust him.
Fine, I submit. And I will start to trust him the moment he—
“Aaaoooh yeaaah…!”
He's there before I know it, running his smooth tongue up the slit and making me buck.
“Oooh myyy…”
I don't even know what I'm saying. He keeps teasing, fingers and mouth dancing around the center of my heat, then suddenly swirling across it and releasing hard little arrows of delight. One moment it feels like it could go on forever, and the next moment I know he'll go straight for it. He keeps surprising me.
Being worthy of this incredible attention from this extraordinary man makes me feel more wanted and more attractive than ever before, as I buck and jerk and groan and whimper. I want more. But I don't know what could be better than this—
He changes position, pushes my knees apart, and spreads me open for him.
“Yes,” I agree deliriously, helping him open me up. “Take me.”
He kneels between my legs and puts his throbbing blue hardness at my entrance, and the wetness that receives it should make me blush. But I don't care at all. I'm horny, more than I've ever been. I want him to know it.
I pull my knees even further back in eager invitation, and he pushes in, slowly, keeping me pinned with his luminous eyes, like two suns in the blue sky.
At any moment now, there might be some pain…
But it never comes. Xan'tor pushes into me, slowly and with male determination and care. And my body receives him with female acceptance and eagerness.
He fills me up, takes possession of my womanly center. And he stays there, letting me get used to these new sensations. Each twitch of his cock inside me makes my whole body tremble. Only him inside me and the light in his eyes exist.
“I'm so glad it's you,” I say, never having meant anything more in my life. No better lover can possibly exist in the universe. No better man, for that matter. He's saved my life too many times to count, he's protected me and cared for me and given me everything I need, without a word of blame or mocking. And now he's making sure that my first sex is incredible. He's amazing, and just thinking about it makes me want to cry—
He pulls slowly out and breaks my emotional state, replacing it with an onslaught of tingles and delight that creates an unspeakable heat in my center.
I whimper again. His cock slid so easily into me, but going out it's as if it has expanded and grown all kinds of little strands that gently touch every little spot in there and wakes it up.
He pushes in again, and this time I relax, knowing there's no pain, just joy.
He fucks me, slowly and impossibly deeply, filling up most of my body and all of my mind.
Yeah, this could get crazy if the tingles down there are anything to go by. Because there's definitely something going on right on the outside, too. There is movement and swirling, as if he has another tongue down there.
He's an alien. It actually could be one. Or... it might be that tail of his.
Wet squelching noises greet every thrust in and out, and he slides very easily now.
I'm being fucked by an alien.
The climax finishes building up, and I'm silent. Then it washes through me, and I scream in the purest joy I've ever felt.
Clenching around his massive body, I never want to let go.
He grunts and growls louder, and I'm vaguely aware that his cock twitches hard inside me, several times.
He slows down the strokes, his rod thrusting even easier into me before he slowly pulls out and lies down beside me. “I'm glad it's you, too.”
I slowly come to my senses and glance down his body. His still hard cock looks even more alien now than before. The ridges and protrusions are bigger. Those things obviously only exist to pleasure a woman.
“Was your first time good?” Xan'tor asks.
At that moment, I realize that I'm falling for him. Not because he's perfect. But because he's the best man I've ever met, and even he's not totally convinced about his own skills, so he has to ask. He's confident, but still not a hundred percent sure of himself. It's so boyish and charming I just melt.
I take his hand and press it to my chest. “I never knew it could be this good.”
A small smile crosses his face. “Neither did I.”
The sun beats down on us and makes me drowsy. “Thank you. For everything.”
He curls his fingers around my hand.
19
- Xan'tor -
Her heart beats quickly under my hand. “We all need a break once in a while.”
She turns her head a fraction. “Even you?”
“Of course.”
“When did you last take a break from your duties?”
I squint against the artificial sun. “Hmm. Let's see…”
“You don't even remember!”
I think back. “Must have been two cycles ago. Well, two and a half. I went home. But I had forgotten that being at home with the clan is more stressful than relaxing. At least with my clan. So I'm not sure if it counts.”
Mila scoots closer on the grass and puts a little hand on my knee. “What's a clan, anyway?”
“I suppose it is like your Earth families, except bigger. An extended family, perhaps? But not everyone in the clan is necessarily related. There might be friends and such, associates.”
“A very extended family. Is your clan good?”
I scratch my chin. “Sometimes. It used to be a Major Clan, but it has declined for a while.”
“Major? So it's a big one?”
“I seem to recall that there was royalty on Earth? Or still is, I forget. Same thing. A royal family is much the same as a Major Clan.”
Mila frowns. “You're royalty?”
“Not anymore. It's now an ordinary clan. And some among us really don't like that.”
“They want
to be royals again?”
“It's not clear to me what's so great about it,” I state, conscious that I have never mentioned this opinion to anyone before. “Major Clans are always in competition with each other for the throne. There are feuds and even wars. For no great reward, it seems to me. It's very expensive to have a king from your clan. Most Major Clans go bankrupt after a few cycles with the crown. It's a much simpler and more peaceful life in a less powerful clan. But some find that the prestige and honor is worth it.”
“Is that your duty? To turn your clan back to a Major one?”
I think about it. Is it really that simple? “Yes.”
“Even if you don't see the point?”
“I am the most accomplished member of my clan. Many put their faith in me.”
“So you could become king of your planet?”
I chuckle. “No, no. If somehow we succeeded and were elevated to Major status and then gained the throne, the leader of the clan would be king.”
Mila turns her head, and I sense more than see her puzzled frown. “You're working hard to make someone else king?”
“It means great honor for the clan. Huge recognition.”
“But it also means wars and feuds and assassinations and danger?”
I shrug. “Goes with the crown. And anyway, it is my duty. A clan that wishes to be elevated needs great funds. I have brought in a lot of it. And soon there will be much more. Probably even enough for the clan to launch a real attempt at the throne.”
“You mean a war?”
“Yes.”
“Which you would help fight?”
“Of course.”
“Spending the money you made working for the Bululg? And if your side wins, someone else gets to be king? And your life becomes a lot more dangerous and stressful?”
“It's for the good of the clan!” I snap.
“You just told me that you don't think it is.”
This woman is going to drive me crazy. “The clan is everything. No alien could understand.”
She squeezes my hand, taking the edge off her words. “I probably don't understand the things with your clan. But I think I understand duty. And I just wonder if yours could be aimed at something more worthy of it.”
I reach out and grab my pants, then get to my feet and consider the ripped fabric of the legs. They flap around in the breeze. I rip them all the way off, turning the pants into shorts. “We've been still too long. I know there are predators here.”
Mila stands up, naked and almost obscenely female. “I'll take a short little dip, just to clean up.”
She jumps in, feet first this time.
I follow, because the salty water in this ocean actually does make me feel clean. The murky lakes on my home planet never made me feel anything other than afraid and dirty.
I dive deep, just because I can and because unlike the dives of my childhood, there are no huge predators trying to ensnare me in their poisonous nets. I can just enjoy my power and the speed. My species was born for the water, at least partly.
From deep down, I see Mila's shadow, close to the shore. Her legs work rhythmically as she treads water, and the sound of the movements reach all the way down to me.
Curious creatures swarm around me. A larger shadow comes closer from further out. It is too small to be a predator, and it's plainly not dragging any nets behind it. Its body is softly streamlined, and it looks most of all like a craft designed for flight, elegant and beautiful.
I rise up and break through the surface right beside Mila. “Dive down with me, we'll look at an interesting creature. Ah, there it is.” Its dorsal fin is breaking the surface, a dark triangle coming straight towards us.
“Oh, God,” Mila exclaims, going stiff. “Get out of the water!”
She scrambles to get back to the shore.
Her energy makes me smile. She's so afraid of that little creature. “It's quite small,” I call after her. “Watery predators are bigger than that.”
“No,” she yells. “That one is dangerous!”
Females are easily scared, of course. As they should be. A female as soft as Mila must be.
Still, I get close to her just to make her feel safe. The fin is very close now, and I sink down a little, watching the beautiful, dark gray creature slide past. It wriggles its whole body and tail fin in a way that propels it through the water with great speed, as if effortless.
It swims around us once, then turns its tail to us.
I surface. “It's leaving. Just a curious little thing—”
The creature suddenly turns and speeds right for me. I reach one arm out to stroke it as its passes.
Its front opens to a large, toothy gape.
Suddenly, a white little foot kicks at it from above and connects with its snout.
The creature breaks off its attack and swims away.
Mila grabs my shoulder and pulls me to the surface. “Are you crazy? That's a shark!”
“A sak?” I'm feeling stupid.
“A predator! Come on, we have to get ashore.”
I stay under the water, guarding Mila while she climbs onto dry land, and then I follow, water cascading off me.
“Huh. I would never have figured that beautiful little thing for a predator.”
She grabs my hand and checks it. “Looks like it didn't get you. It may be small, but it's dangerous. It would have taken your hand off.”
“Oh,” I offer, feeling extremely stupid and useless. “It did have a lot of teeth. Thank you for chasing it away.”
She gives me a little smile. “Like most predators, they're cowards. Just a little bit of resistance, and they leave. Well, that's the theory, anyway.”
Looking at my hand, I find that I like it where it is. “Worked this time. I'm used to predators in water being much bigger. If you find a creature as small as that shak in a lake, it means there are no predators in it and it's safe to dive into it.”
“Earth is different,” Mila says and puts her underwear back on. The fabric is immediately soaked with water and becomes transparent and clingy in the most fetching way. “Our predators can be really small.”
I put my ripped shorts back on. “We'll go back to the ship. I just wanted to show you this place. Maybe take your mind off things.”
She takes my hand and looks up at me with a bright smile. “It worked better than I would ever have thought. Thank you.”
I pick up her too-big clothes. “No need for these, after all. There are much colder areas here.”
“Maybe we can go there later?”
“Maybe.”
We turn our backs to the ocean and walk back the way we came.
When we have climbed the hill and only the thin, gray mist separates us from the hallway that leads to the ship, Mila turns around and looks out on the landscape.
“Someone made a small model of Earth. Like a snow globe on a massive scale. It must have been really hard to make.”
I'm not sure what to say, so I let her look.
She glances up at me. “Whoever made this clearly wanted to preserve Earth the way it was. Or its plants and animals, at least. It was worth being copied. It doesn't feel like it's just made to be a tourist attraction. It feels much more important. Xan'tor, is Earth special in some way?”
I scratch my arm. “Earth is known for its human females. Apart from that, I don't know.”
“I think it's special,” she says quietly as if to herself. “If not to others, then to me. To all of us.” She clenches her jaw with determination. “It will be ours again. Shall we go?”
She turns and walks right through the gray mist without waiting for my reply.
I stand there for a moment, suddenly lost in thought.
Then I follow her.
20
- Mila -
“Show me how to fly this thing,” I suggest when Xan'tor has decoupled the ship from the tunnel wall and we seem to be right side up.
“Not much of a challenge,” he says as we zoom back throu
gh the immense tunnel towards the surface of the moon Titan. “Anyone can do it. Wait until we're out of here.”
“The ships are made to be easy to fly, right? Because aliens of all kinds must be able to use them.” The words of Interspeech come easily to me now that my brain has had time to get on top of it. That app of Ingrid's is incredibly effective.
“That's probably it,” Xan'tor says and sends me a sideways glance. “Very easy. After all, females must also be able to use them.”
“Uh-huh. Even blue males, looks like.”
He chuckles. “Even them.”
The tunnel wall outside flashes past, much faster than when we were going the other way. And suddenly it's gone, and outside the dome is just blackness and stars. And the gigantic, iconic shape of the planet Saturn and its incredible rings, hanging right overhead.
“I'll slow down,” Xan'tor says and stands up. “There. Take a seat. But try to not crash.”
“Oh. You don't have insurance?” I ask, sitting down in the seat and studying the controls. They are alien, but I've seen how Xan'tor uses them and I think I can see how they work. Logic is the same all over the universe.
“No, but that's not why I would prefer not to crash.”
I grip the controls and make little movements with them. The ship responds quickly, dipping its nose and then from side to side. “I get it,” I say absentmindedly. “The embarrassment would be too much to deal with. Frox would never let you live it down.”
“Exactly,” Xan'tor deadpans. “And the being dead part would just add insult to injury.”
I increase the speed forwards, then backwards. And then I'm not sure what happens. The ship seems to slide backwards, down towards the icy surface of Titan, faster and faster. “Yeah. Actually, if you'd prefer not to die, now would be a good time for you to give me some instructions.”
“I think what is happening now is that the gravity of the moon is pulling us back down,” he says, as calm as ever. “And also you have set the speed to full reverse.”
I study the speed controls. “Oh. So this icon means— okay, I get it.” I adjust the lever, and the ship stops going backwards. “Now we're just hovering, right?”
