“So you are refusing?” Stege’s voice was a slashing blade of derisiveness. “Refusing a direct order?”
“Since your order goes directly against universal Picari law, yes. Yes, I am.”
Bronsyn expected another flurry of orders or threats regarding his worthiness as the planet-side commander of the warriors, but all Stege did was glare threateningly into the monitor and growl before disconnecting.
Looking up at the stunned faces of the men in the room, which now included Tyshar, Bronsyn grinned. “All things considered, I think that went very well. Don’t you?”
Chapter Four
Half-dragging, half-marching Pam back to the Escalade, Wyst didn’t give into the doubts hovering. He was too excited, his tailpor too erect, to think of anything beyond the point of finally having real sex.
Not the kind he’d tried to have with the blonde pixie. The one where they’d been doing the thing she called ‘french-kissing’, pressed together and rolling around, grinding against each other on his sleep-platform until her grandmother’s necklace met his warrior’s wahrom on the back of his neck.
And he’d, embarrassingly, ended it by spewing his life-force into his trousers.
No.
This time he was going to be able to fully explore the hidden depths of a human female, sinking himself within the dark confines of her body in order to find his bliss. To touch and feel all her naked, rounded parts, delighting in the differences of their genders.
“Wyst? Damn. Stop!” His blonde friend yelled, planting her feet and yanking against his grip, although he went another two steps before he realized she was no longer next to him, but behind. “No need to go all cave-man, asshole.”
He blinked, coming back to his senses. “I need to get you back to our vehicle so others cannot view the exchange of funds before I go back to her. To the Arleen.”
“Yeah, well,” Pam chuffed, pulling fully from his grasp in order to rub her right wrist. He hadn’t even held that arm which made her movement suspect. But he ordered himself not to take notice. There were other things, more urgent things, requiring his attention. “I can get there under my own steam. She’ll wait.”
His eyes went over his shoulder to where the tall woman with the strange hair lingered. The Arleen raised a hand and wiggled her fingers at him, causing his tailpor to flex in anticipation. “I do not want her to think I am not interested.”
The pixie gave him a look, ending in an eye-roll as he opened the passenger door. When she didn’t accept the hand he held out in order to help her up onto the seat, he paused again.
“They won’t let us keep the Escalade at the pump while you get your nasty on with your fuck-of-the-moment, dude.” He began to parse her sentence, struggling to make sense of the individual words so as to understand the whole of what she said, when she kicked his calf. “Pay attention, ass-hat. We need you to give me all but fifty bucks of our stake and I’ll go park the car over in one of the side slots.”
‘Bucks’ meant the Earth or rather American currency that acted as the mode of barter.
‘Park the car’ was to stow a transport vehicle out of the way.
‘Pump’, ‘stake’ and ‘fuck-of-the-moment’ were not words he knew. Never mind the ‘slot’ or ‘your nasty’.
She growled and reached for his waist only to angle him into the open space of the door. “Give me the wad.”
“The what?” He was thoroughly confused by both her words and actions.
She snapped her fingers before holding her palm out. “The stack of cash Ty gave us.”
Without thinking, he reached into his back pocket and withdrew the roll of green notes. Woven of both paper and cloth, the bills each held a trace of gold equal to the value ascribed on them. Holding the stack out to her, the pixie peeled off one and shoved it firmly into his stomach.
“Enjoy, yourself,” she mumbled, refolding the stack after he took the single rectangle she pushed at him before shoving the rest of the money into the large bag slung across her body. “Now how do I get this bucket of bolts to move where I want it to go?”
He glanced behind him again only to see the Arleen speaking with another male. The female hadn’t moved from where he’d left her, yet he felt the opportunity of sampling her promised charms slipping away. “Just enlarge the GPS screen and touch where you want to go,” he murmured distractedly.
“Got it,” Pam replied and he dragged his eyes back to his traveling cohort to see she’d crawled over the console of the cab until she was in the driver’s seat. Using the buttons on the side of the seat, she adjusted the angle and height of it until her nose almost touched the steering wheel. “While I may not have to drive the bastard, I can keep up appearances, right?”
Wyst didn’t reply but shut the car door without thinking. He didn’t understand his own behavior , how he could go from the depths of extreme arousal to anxiety about his ability to satisfy it, in the space of a only few short seconds. And that lack of comprehension rode him hard as he quickly wound his way through the numerous stands of petrol dispensers, across the full expanse of the cemented space, back to the female who promised to have sex with him in exchange for money.
The very one walking toward him, her smile holding an edge of satisfaction. Since they hadn’t done anything yet, her pleased grin seemed out of place. Threading her arm through his, she steered him to the far-side of the pavement, a few spaces up from where Pam programmed the Escalade to park—out of the direct illumination of the large overhead lights dotting the perimeter.
“Welcome to Arleen’s mobile nest of love,” the brunette with blue streaks in her hair announced with a harsh cackle, using a one of the keys on a huge ring to unlock the door of a late model van. “Make yourself comfortable so’s you and I can a few details out of the way.”
He folded himself onto the cracked leather of the passenger seat as he wondered about her words. Details? Did she mean the different positions he wanted, was practically bursting out of his jeans to try? He’d watched enough of the internet’s vids to know all the sexual positions and their English names although some sounded just plain silly when he said them out loud. Was he supposed to tell her the ones he wanted to do and in what order? Should he ask for missionary first before the cowgirl? Where did doggie-style fit into the mix?
“Okay, so…” the Arleen started after seating herself behind the wheel of the aged vehicle and creakingly slammed the obviously old door. As she removed her jacket, Wyst caught the nauseating smell of gasoline, cigarette smoke and the sharp tang of girl-sweat. “We agreed to thirty-five dollars—“
“I only have a fifty,” Wyst interrupted, wiping his sweating palms on his jean-clad thighs.
Her smile became wider, her eyes glittering at his announcement. “And I ain’t got no change, stud. But that’s alright, isn’t it? It just means I’ll have to treat you especially nice in order to earn the full fifty, right?”
Twisting his large torso in the small seat, Wyst reached for her. He was intent on kissing her, the way he and Pam started but the Arleen placed a firm hand in the middle of chest and checked his forward movement, jerking herself away from his. “My, my, sugar. You sure are eager. But Arleen has a few ground rules we’ve gotta discuss before this goes any further.”
“Ground rules?” He was confused. When it’d almost happened with the pixie, there’d been no talk of rules, in fact there had been very little talk at all.
“Just a couple of details I need to cover.” He opened his mouth to question what she meant, the Arleen placed a finger over his mouth. “Shhh. It’s not much. Just that I don’t kiss on the mouth, and you’ll be wearing a condom for any and everything we do. Can you agree to that?”
He nodded although he wasn’t sure he understood the fullness of what she wanted to convey. About the not kissing or putting a condom on his tailpor since he’d never used one before.
“Good.” She seemed extraordinarily pleased with his nonverbal acceptance of her rules. “Oh! And
the fifty doesn’t include anal. You want to take my ass and it’ll be another fifty.”
Anal as in putting his tailpor up her…
But that opening was designed for the elimination of waste, not insertion for pleasure!
With her grimy, smelly fingers pressed against his lips, he again nodded while his mind tried to make sense of image she’d created. Though between the odor of her fingers, her steadfast gaze and his body’s urgent need to join, he was able to overlook what he found uncomfortable.
Reaching for her purse, she dug deep until she came up with a handful of tiny foil squares, marked ‘pre-moistened towelettes’. “Why don’t you clean your junk as I make myself presentable?”
Uncertain of what she meant, he took the pile but looked to her for direction. Digging deep into her bag again, she jutted her chin to his crotch as she uncapped her deodorant. “I may be particular about cleanliness but I promise you’ll enjoy the ride, sugar.”
She wanted him to use the squares to clean his tailpor and tai? Wyst brought one of the packets up to his nose in attempt to understand how it worked. Luckily it had directions printed on the underside. He was grateful for the chemical smell the package released when opened because it freshened the odors caught in the air of the closed van.
Shoving the deodorant stick up her blouse, the Arleen continued with her instructions. “Be sure to swab not only your dick and balls, but wipe it on the skin up to your navel and down your thighs. But I’ll warn ya, it’ll be a little cold at first.” Nonplussed, Wyst reached for the button and zipper of his jeans. Although he didn’t want his ‘junk’ (as the Arleen called it) to smell like chemicals, if that’s what it took for her to share sex with him, he’d do it.
Carefully unfolding the wet piece of paper, he shoved it down underneath his briefs and cleaned himself as directed. And as he did, he idly noted his tailpor didn’t seem as interested as before. Not even half as excited as his mind was at the thought of getting inside her body.
Finished with her own ablutions, the Arleen turned back toward him while thrusting a piece of gum in her mouth. “Okay, let’s see what size condom will work on a stud like you.” Leaning closer while holding his gaze, the sultry brunette wormed her hand down his pants and took the decreasing length of him in a firm grip. “Uh-huh, I warned you the wipe would be cold. No worries, sugar. Mama can get this bad-boy back to glory in no time.”
Whether it was the feel of her fingers on his skin or the fetid stench of her breath overlaying the mint of her chewing gum, all vestiges of sexual excitement left Wyst’s body in a rush and he sucked in his stomach involuntarily.
But in his mind, the internal arousal within still burned with intensity, scoring him from the inside out. His brain was still filled near to bursting with thoughts of sex, of how he imagined it would feel to invade her body with his own.
“You shave? How interesting,” she murmured as one her hands slid along his tailpor while the other yanked his jeans down his thighs. “Ain’t never met a man brave enough to shave his own balls.”
“I do not grow hair there.”
She blinked up at him, her ministrations growing increasingly more aggressive but without any measure of noticeable success. “You gotta work with me here, sugar. Do you need me to talk dirty? Will that help?”
He turned his head to the passenger window, trying to see through the other cars in order to find the Escalade, or more specifically, Pam parked only a few car lengths away. His body failed him with the uncomfortable feel of the Arleen’s fingers. And dropped away as his mind substituted what was happening with the vision of the blonde-haired pixie touching him. Sighing, he closed his eyes and allowed the fantasy of his petite human friend to supersede the Arleen as her fingers continued to stroke him.
“There you go, stud.” The Arleen’s whisper of encouragement disrupted the sexy images he’d constructed about an entirely different earthling. “Why, when you get to full hard-on, you’re gonna be a mouthful, aren’t you?”
“Do you mind if we do not converse?” He wasn’t sure of human sexual protocol but if he was paying, surely he had the right of request just as she did.
Obviously the Arleen agreed. “It’s your dime, sugar.”
He opened his mind and heard Pam’s thoughts only to find her engaged in a text conversation with Arbrynt regarding the navigational capabilities of their vehicle.
While it wasn’t exactly what he expected to pick up along their link, just the sound of her sweet voice in his head renewed his arousal. Which was quickly doused when the odorous woman in the seat next to him leaned over and began licking and kissing his neck. The unwashed smell of her hair, containing the noxious fumes of gasoline and exhaust made his stomach heave, as did her wide, wet tongue that only wetted his skin and dampened his sexual appetite. Whatever it was, his renewed interest left almost as fast as it’d come.
Arleen stopped, shifting back into her own seat so quickly he turned to look at her. “Okay, so that ain’t working.”
He couldn’t disagree but didn’t want to say anything untoward, since the woman agreed to share sex with him.
For a price, anyway.
Lifting her hands, she began to unbutton her blouse much the way the pixie had when the two of them had been alone in his bedroom. Only Pam’s chest had been smooth, her bra overflowing with creamy flesh, unlike the Arleen’s which appeared skinny, her ribs clearly showing beneath the opening of her shirt. The fact the female wasn’t wearing a bra might have been a factor, but Wyst didn’t think so. In all truth, the woman’s chest was simply…lacking. It wasn’t so much she was small, but her flat nipples announced her disinterest in what they were doing in such a way his tailpor felt the need to hide.
Yet Pam’s nipples in comparison, during the one time they’d tried to connect, appeared hard enough to slice through the lace of her spritely pink bra.
Taking a deep breath, Wyst raised his eyes to the woman next to him and searched for a reason to extract himself from a situation of his own making. “There is not enough room for us in these seats to do what I want to do.”
She giggled and grabbed the flowered cloth curtain behind the seats. “Is that all? Oh sugar, I got us plenty of room to do whatever you want!” Yanking the dank, musty material aside, she laughed in triumph. He turned to look behind and saw a mattress spread in dirty sheets and a few piled blankets all bracketed by dusty boxes piled high with the detritus of the Arleen’s belongings.
The aroma wafting from her personal effects made his stomach roil.
At the sight, smell and remembered feel of the human female, Wyst knew in his heart of hearts, he’d never willingly follow the Arleen into the back of her vehicle and lay with her on those stained sheets.
He wanted sex, Gyed knew. But every cell in his body recoiled at the feel of her touch, appearance and smell.
But how was he to decline the Arleen’s offer without insulting her? The one thing he’d absolutely learned while on Earth was humans, be they rich or poor, beautiful or too ugly for words, were a prideful people. They jostled, elbowing to their way into a set place within whatever society they chose and fought, tooth and dagger, to maintain whatever specific position they ascribed themselves.
Turning back to the female, he took the only course available and pulled the green bill from his pocket emblazoned with the number ‘fifty’, from his pocket. “Here. Take it.”
She grabbed at the money and made quick work of shoving it down between her legs, into the maw of her purse but her expression was one of confused surprise.
“I find I cannot do this with you.” Even he recognized the coolness of his tone and sought to soften it. “Thank you for trying.”
Swiftly doing up his pants, he reached for the door handle before feeling her hand on his arm. “What about the rest?”
Frowning at her words, but determined to leave as fast as possible, Wyst dropped his feet to the pavement and looked back, only to find himself staring into the barrel of a small r
evolver. “I want the rest of whatever you’re carrying, stud. I’m pretty sure you’ve got a lot more in that pocket than just a fifty.”
He’d watched human greed played out on American television, in their news and in movies, but didn’t have any experience with it firsthand. Somehow he found it even more incredulous and ridiculous live and in person. So he wasn’t surprised when he reacted to her feeble attempt to rob him instinctively and without thought, grabbing the Arleen’s weapon of choice, holding it firmly and turning the barrel away from him. Copying something he once saw on a cop show, Wyst tucked the weapon in the back of his pants before he murmured, “You just messed with the wrong guy, sweetheart.”
Slamming the door, Wyst wondered if the line sounded as awfully awkward as it felt coming out of his mouth. But since she was making haste to follow him, he didn’t have much time to worry about it as he began to jog to the Escalade.
Back to the pixie who held both his imagination and, he suspected, his heart.
Chapter Five
I figured it’d take Wyst an half-hour, maybe forty-five minutes at the most to take care of his business. I mean, outside of horny teenagers who don’t know who-does-what-and-when, the rest of the free world can usually find their particular brand of orgasmic heaven pretty damn quick. Although I remembered in my time with the gorgeous alien, we’d swabbed each other’s tonsils for a good two hours before we ever made our way to his bedroom. And it wasn’t until we were within the walls of said room, he’d finally found the nerve to make his play by fondling both my boobs and butt.
So I adjusted the timeline to an hour.
Tops.
Looking around the car, I tried to think of a way to keep myself busy in the meantime. Something to keep my mind off what he was doing with the truck stop skank he’d somehow found so alluring.
Cleaning out my purse took all of five minutes.
Ditto to wiping down the already clean console and shaking out the floor mats.
Wyst Page 4