by Dixon, Ruby
But this female with big, sad eyes has asked me to stay.
To get her pregnant.
To farm with her.
Keffing hell. I’m not a farmer. Being a lowlife thief and a grunt is all I’m good at. I’m the wrong male for this job. If she knew my history, she’d know that, too. I need to tell her no. The timing’s all wrong. Maybe if she’d have approached me a month ago, when I was desperate and low on credits, I’d have jumped at the chance.
A farm AND all the kinky human sex I want? That’s the dream of half the galaxy. I have to admit it’s been so keffing long since I’ve had sex that my seed’s probably nothing but dust. Even now, sex sounds good. Sex sounds real, real good. And I’ve never had a human before. I’m curious. Any male would be.
Except…I can’t say yes to her. I have job offers. Much better job offers than what she’s throwing in my direction. I can’t possibly say yes. Not when I have the opportunity to turn my life around and make a quick fortune.
I just don’t have the guts to tell her ‘no’ just yet. Not when she watches me with those hopeful dark eyes. I can’t tell her no to her face. Maybe I’ll steal away in the middle of the night, when she’s not looking at me with such hope and grim determination. Slink away like the lowlife scum I am and forget I ever met that little bit of a human.
We park the air-sled and she gives me a quick tour around the place, watching me with those hopeful eyes. I try to be judgmental, to pick apart the place and find things wrong with it but…it’s a good farm. She’s got a nice plot of land bordered by a flowing stream, and the fields are even and stretch as far as the eye can see. Her meat-stock are penned in a nearby pasture and the animals are fat and healthy. She’s got a few mechs and drones gifted to her that do the majority of the farm work and all she has to do is keep them programmed and monitored. I’m a little surprised to see that her mechs are well-cared for, as much as everything else. A lot of people let their mechs go to shit because they’re just a tool. Not this little bit of a human, though. She’s meticulous in everything.
The human—Piper—shows me the house next. It’s a small, domed dwelling, designed to stay cool in the summer and warm in the winter. The interior is a little cramped, but she’s made it comfortable with her cast-off furniture and lots and lots of colorful wall hangings. There’s a tiny kitchen, a living area with a large window that looks out onto the fields, and one bedroom.
“Kinda small for a family, don’t you think?” I tease her.
She lifts her chin, defiant. “I purchased a construction kit to add a room or two. I just haven’t gotten to it yet. There’s only so many hours in the day and just one of me. It’s another reason to get married—to get help.” Her hard expression softens. “But mostly just to have someone to talk to.”
Kef me, she knows how to tug at my heart strings. I can handle sass and defiance. I can’t handle that sadness in her eyes. I rub at my neck, gazing at the small house. I need to tell her no. That I’m not staying. That I can’t stay. I’ve got a fortune to make elsewhere.
“Do you want to wash up? I’ve got a shower and the water tanks are full. You can take as long as you like.” Piper heads toward the bedroom and opens the door, then leads me toward the wash room.
I’m a weak male, because of course I want a shower. I’ve spent days in that stinking jail, caged up with strangers—and meat-stock—and I’d love nothing more than to get clean. She offers me a towel and I take it. “Thanks.”
“Of course. I’m offering you half of everything. The least I can do is let you clean up.” Her mouth twitches as if she wants to laugh, but then it’s gone soon enough. She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
I’m alone in her bedroom, and while I glance around, there’s nothing salacious here. She has a small trunk for her clothing, a bed that’s barely wide enough for two people, and not much else. There’s a vid-screen on the wall but it’s an old model. Actually, everything she has is an older model, and I suspect a lot of these humans were given cast-offs just as lip service. No one really cares if they’re successful or not, and that eats at me. My sense of justice is bristling, but I have to fight it back.
I’m certainly not the male to take up the cause of a stranded human. I’m an outlaw, an escaped convict, and I’m leaving this farm planet as soon as possible.
So I shower and try not to think about anything other than getting clean. It’s the best shower I’ve had in a long time, and I spend far too long in there. I towel off, and notice that while I was in the wash room, she slipped back into the bedroom. There’s a pair of trou on the bed that look as if they’d fit me, and when I pick them up, I see the stitching inside isn’t professional. She made these, then. I put them on—and they’re so short that they only go to my calf, which makes me laugh.
This little bit really has no idea how tall mesakkah are compared to humans. Why do I find that so charming?
Piper comes in to the room after I’m dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. The rest of the small house is dark and she carries a towel in her hands. “I’m going to shower before bed as well, if that’s all right.”
“It’s your house.”
“So it is.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that there’s only one bed.” I gesture at the mattress I’m sitting on. “You want me to take the floor?”
“No, we can both sleep in the bed. I’m asking you to marry me, after all. It seems a little silly to be prudish, don’t you think?”
I shrug, because I’ve slept on a floor for days now. I can sleep on one a few days more, but I won’t pass up the chance to sleep with a tasty little bit like her curled up against me in a nice soft bed.
She disappears into the wash room and when she returns a short time later, she smells like a faint floral soap and hot water. The towel is wrapped around her slim body, and I lie in bed, watching as she turns her back to me and then drops the towel.
Well, now. She’s bold. As casual as she acts, I’m sure this is all part of the plan to entice me into staying.
It’s a good move, I have to admit. I watch with a growing hunger as she slides a shift over her body. Her skin’s a strange, pale shade, but her hips flare to an enticing ass that seems just a little bit kinky without a tail. I can’t see those human tits of hers, but her waist is slender and her shoulders graceful, and now I’m imagining what it’d be like to have her under me while I claim her. My cock’s hard and throbbing in an instant. It’s been forever since I’ve had sex. Every salacious, filthy thing I’ve heard about humans flashes through my mind, and I can’t stop staring at the delicate flare of her hips, imagining my hands there, holding her against me as I pound deep inside her.
She pulls the shift down over her body, hiding herself from view, and then turns the light off.
It’s dark for a brief moment, but my eyes adjust quickly to the light, and I watch as her slim form gets into bed. Her limbs brush against mine as she pulls the blankets over her.
“Goodnight,” Piper says, and then her back is to me.
I should go to sleep, just like she is. Act as if it’s nothing that she’s in bed with me a breath away. Instead, I keep thinking about the hard ache of my cock and how good she smells. Her damp hair spills over her pillow, practically touching my face, and it’s so keffing arousing that I’m in danger of losing control of myself. I think about getting out of bed and going to her small wash room so I can jerk my cock and get rid of this ache. Lying here next to her isn’t relaxing me at all.
When I first met Piper, I was convinced that she was offering me a terrible deal. Farming and a baby in exchange for freedom and money? No thanks. But the longer I spend in her presence, the more drawn to her I am. I breathe in her scent and think about the flare of her hips, and wonder if this “marriage” idea doesn’t have more benefits to it than I thought.
But no. The job with the va Sithai brothers will be big money, more than a soldier and ex-con like me will ever have the opportunity to see. I’d
be a fool to walk away from it.
As if she can sense my troubled thoughts, Piper rolls onto her back and looks over at me in the darkness. “You’re awake?”
“Yes.”
“Want to have sex?”
I’m a little startled at the bold suggestion. “You’re offering?”
“If it’ll entice you into staying? Yes,” she says bluntly. “I can’t ask you to marry me without showing you what I can offer, right? And all I’ve got are this farm and my body.”
My suspicious mind wonders if this is a trap. If she’s trying to get me to make her pregnant and force me to stay. “I haven’t made up my mind.”
“I know. I assume you want to use plas-film, then?” Her tone is so casual, as if she’s talking about getting a glass of water instead of having sex.
“Plas-film, yes.”
I expect her to protest at my insistence on birth control, but she just pulls the covers back and hops out of bed. A moment later, she flicks the lights on and rummages in the wash room, then returns with a small plas-film container.
I watch, propped up on one elbow, as she moves around. Her shift is thin and through it I can see the outline of her bobbing, dark-tipped tits under the clothing. There’s a dark patch between her thighs, too, and I’m curious about that. I’m curious about all of her, and I’m so keffing hard that my cock’s leaking all over the front of my trou.
She climbs back into bed, sitting on her knees, and tugs the blankets all the way down to the foot of the bed. My cock strains against my clothing, and I know my length is impressive. I watch her face, but Piper is utterly impassive, her head tilted so her dark hair hangs in front of her face, that thick fringe covering her brow. With steady hands, she unties the waist of my trou and eases them down my hips. There’s no auto-fasten on these clothes, so she has to manually guide them down my legs and onto the floor, but she does, as if it’s something she always handles. After a moment, she looks over my body and hesitates when she sees my cock and the metal piercing studding the end of it.
I have to look enormous to her. She’s so delicate that my cock’s probably twice as big as any she’s encountered before, or maybe that’s just my imagination. But she only licks her pink lips with an equally pink tongue and meets my gaze. “Shall I put it on for you?”
I groan, because the thought of her small hands on my shaft is enough to make me crazy. “Do it.”
She nods, pulling a sheet of plas-film free with expert fingers. Then, she leans forward and glides the thin material over my shaft, caressing the ridges and molding the film to my length. It’s clear she’s done this before.
“Do you want me on my back or on my knees?” Piper asks as she sets her hands in her lap once more.
There’s a strange, matter-of-fact-ness to this, but I’m too aching with need to question things. “Back,” I rasp. I want to see her expression when I kef her so hard that the bed shakes. I want to watch that rapture spread over those strange, small human features.
But she only nods again, strips her shift off and tosses it onto the floor, and then obediently gets on her back and puts her hands behind her knees, spreading her cunt wide and ready for me.
I stare. I can’t help it. It’s an arousing picture, and I’m fascinated by the sight of the rosy flush of her folds and the tufts of dark hair that frame them. She’s like a mesakkah female, but not quite. There’s subtle differences—the color and the hair for starters—but everything about her just seems a little more delicate, a little more…human. Erotic and yet unusual both at the same time.
I slide closer to her on the bed, wanting to push between those thighs and taste her. I can’t wait to see how she reacts when I touch her, and I lean in and glide my hand down the inside of one pale thigh.
She shivers, and then holds her legs wider.
It takes me a moment to realize that she’s not looking at me. Oh, her face is turned in my direction, but she’s got a distant expression that tells me that her body is here, but her mind is very, very far away. Experimentally, I run my thumb down the folds of her cunt. She’s dry as a bone. I’ve heard a lot about human females, but never that. I look up at her and her face is angled away slightly, staring at a spot over my shoulder.
This doesn’t feel like sex. This feels like rape. I don’t know if it’s because I’m so damned ugly that she has to look away or if it’s something else, but it doesn’t sit right with me.
I lean over her, pushing her thighs back down on the bed. I rest on my side, gazing down at her, and when she still won’t look me in the eye, I put my fingers on her chin and force her to meet my gaze. “Do you want this?”
Her brows furrow in that strange, alien way. “It’s just sex.”
“Then look at me when I touch you.”
“All right.” She gives me a faint smile but this time she meets my gaze. Her eyes are hiding a wealth of uncertainty, which is interesting to me. Does she normally not look her partners in the eye? Is it just me that she won’t look at, or do others care about nothing but a spread cunt? For some reason, that angers me. I fight it back, because now isn’t the time.
Instead, I watch her face as I slide my hand up and down her thigh again. She blinks a few times, but there’s no indication of pleasure. There’s no indication of fear, either. It’s like she’s completely distant.
I’ve never had a reluctant female in my bed before. Perhaps it’s my pride, but there’s something in me that wants to make this good for her. If she’s offering her body, the least I can do is pleasure it while I pleasure mine. So I stroke my hand between her thighs again, exploring her dry folds with a light touch. I find the entrance to her core, just like any other female, but when I move my fingers higher, I discover a rounded nub at the apex of her cunt. Her breath hitches when I touch it.
“What’s this?” I ask, curious.
“It’s a clit.” Her lips part and she shifts against me. “Have you never had sex before?”
“Not with a human,” I tell her, giving her my most charming smile…which probably isn’t all that charming anymore, not with the scars. “There’s a few differences, it seems.”
Her cheeks flush and her gaze darts away from mine.
I lift my hand and touch her cheek, reminding her to meet my eyes. “What spots are sensitive on a human?”
A flash of vulnerability crosses her face. “Why does it matter?”
She’s breaking my keffing heart. “It matters to me.” I skim my thumb over her full, pink bottom lip. “It’s no good if both of us don’t enjoy it. So show me which parts of this pretty little cunt like to be petted or if there’s something else I’m missing entirely.” I brush my fingers over her mouth one more time and then run my knuckles lightly down her throat, then between her tits. She’s trembling like a fawn under my touch, but that’s a better reaction than her earlier indifference, so I’ll take it.
“Well,” Piper says breathlessly after a moment. “You can…”
“Ah ah,” I murmur, gliding my fingers over her belly. “I said for you to show me, not tell me.”
Her lips part and she trembles again. “Vordigar,” she whispers. “I’m not sure…” And she trails off.
Does she think I’m going to let her get away after this? After she says my name so sweetly? I ache for her even harder than I did before. It’s the first time she’s said my name, I realize, and I want more of it. “I’m sure you can show me, Little Bit.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes locked on mine. Her gaze slides to my mouth, and then she bites her lip. A moment later, her hand steals past mine where it rests on her belly, and I glance down. With hesitant, achingly shy movements, she slips her finger between her folds and then begins to gently rub the thing she calls a clit.
The hood of her cunt hides her from my view, so I use my fingers to pull the lips of her folds apart so I can watch her touch herself. Piper gasps at my touch, shivering, but her fingers move faster on that delicate pink pebble. She’s not touching
it, I realize, but touching the skin around it, as if it’s too sensitive for her to touch directly. She circles it with small, delicate touches, and then dips her finger lower, into the entrance of her core, and spreads a bit of wetness over it. Her breathing becomes rapid, and when I look up from watching her, I notice she’s watching me. Her eyes are locked on mine, her lips parted as she touches herself.
It’s the most keffing arousing thing I’ve ever seen.
I lift my hand and brush my knuckles over her cheek, petting her, touching her, loving the way she watches me as she works that tiny little nub between her thighs. “That’s the way,” I murmur to her, stroking her soft skin. “Are there other parts of pretty humans that are sensitive?” I ask, gliding my fingers down her neck and towards those enticing tits of hers. They’re prominent, rounded and bouncy and wholly foreign to me. My people are lean and muscular all over, and our females are flat unless they’re nursing. Even then, they’re not as rounded as these little globes that jiggle enticingly on her chest with every movement. I’m fascinated by them, by the swells of them rising from her ribs, by the hard, deep pink tips that point up at the sky.
She doesn’t answer me, but there’s an aching yearning in her eyes, and her panting grows harder. Her hand works furiously between her thighs, rubbing as she watches me.
Boldly, I cup one bare breast and drag my thumb over the tip. It’s hard and erect, but somehow manages to still be soft and pettable. Piper lets out a hungry little cry of need when I touch her nipple, and so I keep rubbing it, murmuring soft words to her as she strokes her cunt and pleasures herself.
There’s a wet sound, the telling squelch of slick skin, and Piper’s cheeks turn bright red. Her gaze flicks away from mine and her movements stop, her breathing ragged.
Fascinated, I touch her between her thighs and find that she’s damp now, her cunt giving up some of its juices. “There we go,” I murmur. “Why’d you stop?”
She just buries her face against my arm, as if embarrassed.
