Our Flower

Home > Other > Our Flower > Page 9
Our Flower Page 9

by S M Matthews


  It’s confusing. Everything seems a lot easier and more comfortable since it started...but verbally they don’t seem bothered about it actually happening.

  I’ve toyed with the idea of telling one of them ‘no’ one night but...the truth is I do want one of them with me. The purring is a comfort. I sleep better. They are good company. I feel so much closer to them and our arrangement feels...permanent.

  Also, I’d have to pick one to say no to...and I don’t think I could do that either.

  I’m even more worried that whoever it was would just ear shrug and say ‘okay then’ like it was nothing and just go to bed. Like he’s not bothered about me.

  I also don’t think I’d like that very much, and it makes me too scared to test it.

  They haven't tried anything on...and that’s getting frustrating too. We lie there, cuddled up, all three of them have the same tactic of wrapping me up and then hugging the ‘me’ burrito.

  I think the biggest problem is I just don’t know what to do. I never got to do this with human boys, never mind aliens who are so much older than me. They've already done all this, they had a proper family, and now they've just got a weird little furless consolation prize.

  I don’t know how to get around it...I decide to write to Maisy again and ask for advice. Maybe there's a way to give them a nudge to initiate something; or find out once and for all if they are, in fact, interested.

  I wonder if the age gap matters. Surely that must matter. I mean they are probably old enough to be my dad, maybe? That spawns a completely different train of thought; how long do they live?

  I can feel that I’m stressing myself out a little, and on cue there's a snuffling at the back of my neck and the purring switches up a gear. At least this feels pretty secure for now; I don’t want this part to change.

  It doesn’t take long to receive a reply from Maisy which was in one way really helpful and in another...not at all. I was hoping she’d say: ‘you wave this flag and then they know you want the dick’. Her advice to ‘think horny thoughts’ at least compounded what I was already thinking. Her follow up advice to throw an impromptu alien equivalent of a wedding was much less helpful. A Mate Run, they call it, so I’d looked it up out of curiosity but...I just felt like there were probably other steps I could take before that one.

  Like Operation; Smell Horny. Which, embarrassingly enough, I can’t deny the thoughts had been creeping in on their own. It sort-of starts as a curious thought...like I wonder if their tongues are rough like a cats? Or how sharp their claws would feel on your skin? But these honestly innocent passing thoughts have more and more been devolving into some seriously sexually charged daydreaming.

  Having never actually had sex I can’t really imagine what having someone else shove something up your hoo-ha feels like, and logically I think I’m totally over romanticising the whole thing but...I do wonder.

  And I’m starting to wonder a lot.

  Whilst eating breakfast, whilst mindlessly staring at space through the giant lounge window, whilst working, whilst walking to work...all the damn time.

  Whilst I was sleeping alone I had an outlet. A very, very, regular outlet.

  Now I’m confined to when I have a shower. Usually I’m so ramped up from daydreaming at work all day that I’m halfway there by the time I’ve turned on the water. I resolve to think really loud sexy thoughts later tonight, maybe once we are curled up in bed...see if it gets me anywhere.

  ACER

  I know there’s something up with her. She won’t settle like she usually does. She’s fidgeting. The smells are changing so rapidly I’ve given up and I’m just trying to block them out. I’m pretty certain she’s gone for a second shower. Something is definitely different.

  Once she found Hydroponics she relaxed into a pretty clear routine, and thanks to Maisy and the translator, she seems to have settled even more. Micka and I were only discussing her becoming more relaxed about physical contact earlier. And she is getting pretty free with the hugs. What was a quick sniff before she leaves in the mornings has turned into a full hug every time and it’s usually the same when she greets us. She will happily hold your hand if you go anywhere with her and…she smells of arousal. Regularly. She has smelt pretty irresistible from the start to us and regardless of anything else, we've had regular hushed conversations about just how appealing the smell is. Especially when she’s been pleasuring herself. We’ve often found ourselves, whether alone or more of us home, lingering about and breathing deep the smell. One evening after she’d gone to bed me and Titus found ourselves just standing in the bathroom, she’d quite clearly pleasured herself during her shower, and the hot steam had made the room smell of her. We’d stood in the bathroom like a pair of lovesick cubs until the condenser had stolen all the smell away. And then we’d beat a hasty retreat to our own rooms.

  She seems to be finally heading to bed, I ask if she wants me to join her. She freezes, eyes wide, in the doorway. I am assaulted by the smells of anxiety and arousal and she stands so still for so long I think about asking again. She finally nods rapidly and squeaks out, ‘yes’.

  We ask out of courtesy; everyone needs a little time to themselves now and then but Poppy hasn’t ever refused us. Not since the first time when Titus just sort of invited himself in. I go and shower and put on fresh sleeping trousers, this gives her a little time alone. Hopefully she will have worked through...whatever it is.

  We are fully aware of just when Poppy masturbates. But we are also pretty sure she doesn’t have a clue how regularly we do. It…was not at all like this with Kita, and we have all admitted that to each other now. We loved her; we were committed to spending the rest of our lives as a family. But when we were pursuing her...even when we first mated, the drive was not at all like this. This is overwhelming, and persistent. And completely...other.

  I contemplate messaging the others to ask if she’s been displaying any out of character behaviours with them but decide against it. If there'd been anything they would have said, I’m quite sure. I can talk to them about it when I next see them.

  POPPY

  I swear I’ve been lying here for about ten years. What is he doing out there? I know it’s because I’m nervous and fidgety and I don’t even know why because absolutely nothing could happen. I just feel like if nothing does, I’m going to go mad. Or explode.

  Acer finally, finally, comes to bed.

  He tucks me in as usual, nudging me onto my side facing away, like they all do. He rests his arm across me and snuggles up. After a minute or two of silence the purring kicks in. A quiet soft purring that fluctuates along with his breathing.

  I start to think about...well, I think about what would happen if he just pushes the blanket off and climbs on top. And as hot as that is in my head, the fact that he’s lying right next to me makes my embarrassment spike. Sure enough, there’s a snuffling in my hair. I take a few deep breaths and shut my eyes tight.

  I try to imagine the snuffling moving to the back of my neck. Gentle soft touches from his Pretty Nose.

  That makes me smile to myself and I relax again. I think about if he got to my neck and what that wide tongue might feel like. I think about a gentle nipping on my shoulder and claws along the back of my thigh. I think about the hand sliding between my thighs, soft fur on one side and those rough and yet soft pads on the other. I think about a soft prickling of claw-tips. I imagine a lapping at my shoulder blades. I’m so invested in my fantasy that when imaginary Acer lifts the top thigh in my head; I very nearly do it for real. As quietly as I can I’m dancing my fingertips across the fabric at the front of the tunic I’m wearing. I catch my peaked nipples through the fabric. Me being on my side pressing them forward even more. My butt wiggles, I can’t help it, and suddenly I’m playing a secret game with myself. Between my legs is throbbing almost painfully. The snuffling is back in my hair, and cautiously he pulls the blanket down so he can get at the back of my neck. Sniffing around. His nose touches and I have to click my t
eeth tight shut so I don’t make a noise and give the game away. I softly pinch my nipples through the fabric and my core clenches pleasurably.

  There’s a responding chuff from behind me, the warm air bathes the back of my neck and my face splits into a self-satisfied grin. The purring has turned deeper, it’s now more like a deep rumble. I feel him shift behind me and then shake his head. The tell-tale flapping noise their ears make when they give a hard shake making me sure. He moves back in, this time lying completely flush to me, and I wriggle against him. I wish the blanket was not between us but I’m not quite brave enough to move it out of the way myself. He’s back to snuffling at the side of my neck now, and I pinch my nipples again, rolling them gently. The covers are gently pulled off me, and he flicks the excess back over his own hips to keep the bit that’s trapped between us. Acer rolls back a little pulling me with him, half of me now resting on him. The hardness of his erections feels massive, and it’s pressing against my butt even through the blankets.

  He reaches down and tugs up the front of my tunic, I lift so that he can pull it up, and the colder air hitting my wet pussy makes me gasp in a breath. He laps at my neck and I close my eyes again, moving a little so that I rub myself on his cocks. His growl hitches, and he nips my neck, in turn making me let out a soft moan. He takes the back of my hand and I wonder what he’s doing, and then he guides it to between my legs. I part my thighs a little, and he covers my hand to press my fingers into my folds. He strokes the back of my hand, encouraging me to move. All the while lapping and nipping my neck and the lobe of my ear. He presses the back of my hand again when I haven't started moving. Of all the things that might have happened, I was not expecting this. I find my clit with my fingertips and start to circle. He has his hand on top of mine for a minute or too, holding me whilst I’m getting into my rhythm. Letting go of my hand he watches the movement in the dim light; he grips my hip so firmly I can feel the tiny pinpricks of his claws. He very slowly starts to thrust against me, still with the blanket between us. I dip my fingers into myself, I’m so wet it’s easy to slick the moisture back up to my clit. I try to lift my hips but can’t, he’s holding me still. He leans down briefly to give the side of my neck one long lathe and his thrusting becomes short jerks. My thighs tighten, I can feel I’m going to come regardless and press harder against my clit. I orgasm, bucking against his tight grip; my thighs spasming and my toes pointing with it. He goes still, leaning down he lets out one very long, unsteady breath against my neck. Sliding his hand down my arm he takes my wrist and pulls my hand up to his face. He completely takes my wet fingers into his mouth. His rough tongue licking right into the V where my fingers meet and then roughly licking them clean. His eyes are closed. It’s the most scandalous thing I think I’ve ever seen.

  He releases me and whispers, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back I promise.” He flicks the covers back over me and hops out of bed and leaves. I lie on my back looking at my fingers like they've just been through some sort of magical event.

  And then something occurs to me and I give the covers all around me an investigatory feel. All completely dry.

  I don’t understand what has just happened.

  I get comfortable again, and it is only a short time before he comes back and settles next to me again.

  I stew for a couple more minutes before realising I don’t really know what to say, so I simply ask, “Are you okay, Acer?”

  “I really am. You?”

  He starts up the purring and his voice did sound relaxed...half sleepy even. The purring stops as he yawns, almost to confirm it, and then starts up again.

  “Yeah...I’m okay too.” I guess. I think. I don’t know. But I settle down anyway.

  MICKA

  I’m in the office when the message comes through. A generic all-stations update from Homeworld. It’s concerning the classification of Humans. It starts with a pretty thorough ‘how to identify a Human’. The language file is there, our scans...I skip the boring bits and get to the ruling. ‘Class B; Aggressive Creatures Act.’

  Managing a station, we need to know a little bit about a lot of things. Particularly when it comes to what you might come across in other people’s holding bays.

  I flick through the database looking for the Application Forms. I can’t find it until I realise it’s been labelled at some point, probably by Titus, as ‘Boring Forms’. I momentarily chuff with agitation that he has marginally delayed this process with his frivolity.

  I formally apply for myself and my brothers to be Registered Keepers of Poppy, and I don’t hesitate to send it off.

  I’ll have to explain this to her later.

  POPPY

  I got news from Maisy; I’m sat in the lounge reading it when Micka comes home.

  It’s later in the evening, I’ve showered and changed, and Titus and I have had our evening meal. He put meals back for the others and showered himself whilst I went to read Maisy’s ‘letter’.

  Micka does a quick ‘handover’ with Titus before he then leaves for work. I think Acer’s around somewhere, possibly sleeping. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme nor reason to their shift pattern, and for the life of me I cannot follow it. Sometimes they are all here, but that seems to take a little forward planning. How they maintain the seemingly random sleeping patterns baffles me; I’d be exhausted.

  I just don’t get it.

  I finish reading my ‘letter’ from Maisy. It all sounds pretty terrible to be honest. As near as I can tell, this female, Demonic Fucking Whore, as Maisy calls her right the way through, orchestrated the lamest, most pathetic, most contrived set-up in all of history. And Maisy walked straight into it.

  Demonic Fucking Whore’s sole role was, apparently, to goad Maisy into an aggressive act simply so she could secretly film it. Maisy obliged in less than ten minutes.

  Maisy then spends a fair bit of time beating herself up for her own stupidity, because now Maisy’s ‘violent outburst’ has contributed to an apparent pool of evidence. We are, or already have been, listed as dangerous animals who need some sort of legal guardianship.

  Oh. That doesn’t sound so great.

  She also says that there’s yet another human, and they can’t find out a single thing about her because she’s being held in their equivalent of a prison, under suspicion of murder; this also being a contributing factor towards our newfound classification.

  As an outsider trying to look at that objectively I’d be thinking that murder would carry more weight...but then not if it’s not been proved yet. I guess.

  Maisy thinks that’s ‘some bullshit right there’.

  They are going to go visit the human on the station at Homeworld, and then work their way back here again. They need to make some stops, but it should just be a few weeks.

  Also, her ‘mother-in-law’ is lovely.

  Right.

  That was a rollercoaster from start to finish.

  Micka’s been in the bathroom, and he’s changed into his loose-fitting PJ’s. He’s got the post-shower fluffy look about him. He also doesn’t look happy; everything is drooping.

  “We need to talk.”

  I drift over to the sofa and sit with him. He makes as if he’s about to speak and then shuts his mouth again. Takes a steadying breath and then just spits it all out at once.

  “Humans have been classified as a Class B under the Aggressive Creatures Act. I’ve already applied for us to be your keepers. To take legal responsibility for you.”

  I don’t really like the sound of that.

  “Are there other options?”

  He looks momentarily put out by the question, but I think it’s a fair thing to ask.

  He makes no attempt to soften the answer; “Either you find someone else to take it on, you get off the station, or I put you in stasis.”

  “Well, there’s no real choice then?”

  He shakes his head; “No, but I would have done it regardless until...well, until you’re ready to leave of your own accord.�
�� I internally flinch a little at that, he makes it sound inevitable.

  “What does Class B mean, exactly?”

  “That you’re intelligent, but your basic nature makes you too aggressive to have free movement and autonomy the way we have. At least when you’re on our people’s assets, so the station, any ships, Homeworld. Actually, we’d probably have to make an application if we wanted to visit Homeworld with you.”

  “Like when you want to travel with your dog, and it needs a passport to prove it’s not rabid?” I ask, bitterly. I’m not bothered about their Homeworld, and it has honestly never even occurred to me that I might one day visit it. Now that there might be a barrier to it, I am suddenly resentful that I don’t have the option the same way they do. I don’t blame Maisy though. I do agree with her; this whole thing stinks.

  “What about the other Humans that might be out there?”

  Micka scratches at his cheek fur; I don’t think it had occurred to him.

  “I’m not sure it necessarily changes much,” his answer is thoughtful, “If they have found acceptable conditions they might not want to leave them...but if people don’t want the responsibility of being a Keeper they may surrender them. It wouldn’t necessarily hurt for word to get out that they could be surrendered here.”

  “I would be...really grateful. Can’t we try and just go home?”

  He shakes his head and his ears droop sadly, “Banned from any contact with your Homeworld, which effectively covers looking for it at all. Not that we had a clue where to start anyway, the people who initially took you certainly won’t be volunteering the information. Space is big.” He ear shrugs.

  I flop back into the chair, “We call it Earth.”

  Micka flops back next to me and chuckles, “Dirt? Why?”

  I groan. The translator can make them frustratingly literal.

  I don’t know how I feel about this registration thing, I feel like it’s this big abstract concept which applies to me but...at the same time doesn’t actively make any difference to my life right now. Unless it does.

 

‹ Prev