Alien Interludes

by Tracy St. John

  “I’l take you with me. When a Plasian climaxes, her channel moves to stroke the fralis, to bring the man too. No Earther man I’ve ever had has been able to last.” Tyler shook his head at her. “The Earther men you’ve had were young and inexperienced. I’m not quite that quick on the draw.”

  “I want this to be good for you. You’ve gone without for a long time,” she fretted.

  “Sweetheart, even if I lose it right away I have no doubt I’l enjoy you bringing me back to life again.” Israla felt something inside her lift. “I’d be glad to do that. But I stil want our first time to be special.” His smile was gentle. “It already is. Now stop talking and do me.”

  “Maybe another minute or two—”

  Tyler’s smile turned predatory. The next second, Israla found herself on her back with him on top. Before she could protest, Tyler puled out slowly, dragging his cock through the gauntlet of nerve rings.

  Israla ignited, her ciosul heaving to and fro, stroking the Earther with a firm grip. She arched against the strong body covering her, everything sizzling and melting in a bubbling pool of molten pleasure. Tyler groaned in accompaniment to her whistling cries but continued his outward journey until only the thick head of his penis remained inside her.

  He pressed into her once more, renewing the upheaval of pounding bliss. She shrieked with every coil he passed within her passage, each orgasm only driving her higher instead of gifting relief. He began to move faster as his needs overwhelmed him, pistoning in and out of her straining body until she no longer felt each individual pleasure ring igniting. Her nether parts were one clustered channel of nerve endings, filing her with explosive nirvana.

  Tyler thudded hard against her, his face working as he struggled to maintain control. Israla felt herself building to something she’d only known a handful of times before, and only with Aserb. The gorgeous spasms of climax were growing larger, suffusing her until her entire body felt engorged, ready to burst like an exploding star.

  “By the gods!” she screamed, and the olasi was upon her.

  Every molecule seemed to blast apart, scattering Israla far and wide with the detonation. Her channel seized on Tyler’s driving length, holding it hostage as it vibrated and milked him hard. He shrieked with her, and her sensitive sleeve felt the warmth of his juices bathing it.

  Israla acknowledged the Earther’s climax with only the smalest portion of her mind. Her consciousness was consumed in the inferno of a ful-body orgasm, in which bliss permeated even the fur on her head. It eclipsed conscious thought, making her world nothing but heaving ecstasy.

  She gave herself to it, submitting to the brutal cataclysm, drowning beneath the continuous pulses. How long the olasi owned her, she could not have told. It went on and on, holding her in that bright, throbbing universe until she lost consciousness.

  * * * *

  “Israla, wake up. Please sweetheart, wake up or I’m caling a medic.”

  She felt cool wetness against her skin, rousing her to rejoin the living. She pried her eyes open to see Tyler crouched over her.

  “Thank God,” he breathed. He wiped her face with a moist cloth. “I thought I’d hurt you or something. I know you damn near kiled me.”

  “It was olasi, the ful body orgasm. Some Plasian women go their entire lives without experiencing it. I had the pleasure of it four times with Aserb. And now once with you.” She smiled, thriled with her body’s response.

  “It went on for over half an hour, gal. I couldn’t get free of you until you were done, and then you fainted on me. You might warn a guy next time.”

  “It’s so rare I didn’t consider it a possibility.” She grinned at him naughtily. “How many did you achieve?” He reddened. “Two. I don’t think I’ve ever begged a woman to stop before.”

  “You’re al right?” It suddenly occurred to Israla that Tyler might be the first Earther to experience olasi with a Plasian. He’d said she nearly kiled him. Could that be possible?

  Tyler laughed for a long time. He laughed so hard he couldn’t answer her for a few minutes. Finaly he said, “Yes, my dear Israla, I’m fine. Bedraggled, worn out, senseless from the most insane sex of my life, but perfectly fine.”

  He kissed her with feeling, and she responded. Not sexualy; they were both too sated for that.

  “Now what?” he whispered, snuggling close. “On to your next conquest?”

  Israla bent her head to lay her cheek against his chest, feeling how the hair there crinkled. She liked their mingled scents. “Do you want me to go? Because … I don’t want any other man. Just you.”

  “For how long?” His finger under her chin tipped her head back so that she looked into his eyes. “I’m not into casual sex. I’m not into sharing. If we do this, it’s just you and me.” She stared at him in shock. “You want to make this long-term? A real relationship?”

  Tyler thought about that. “It’s a bit early yet to make that commitment. But I’d like to know if that’s a possibility, and for me that means monogamy. We give this a fair shake, just you and me with no extracurricular members.”

  Israla’s mind swam with his proposal. Plasians usualy bonded when the urge to produce a family overwhelmed them, and the relationships were typicaly open for extra playmates. Israla was beyond childbearing age. She had no real reason to be monogamous. She’d been as one with Aserb only because their souls had merged.

  Could she find the same with Tyler, an Earther?

  “We have much in common,” she said, thinking out loud. “We shouldn’t, because our worlds’ ideologies are so disparate. But here we are.”

  “We’ve both lost the most important parts of our lives.” Tyler smiled sadly. “We know the pain no one should have to endure. Maybe that’s al we’l ever have in common, this shared grief. Maybe more.

  There’s only one way to find out for sure.”

  Israla nodded. “I agree. I think you are worth this chance, Tyler.”

  He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Love is always worth a chance, lovely lady. I’m glad you’re taking this gamble with me.” A gamble, yes. But Israla thought perhaps this man was a sure thing.

  Michaela’s Child

  ( Please note: graphic sexual situations involving a hermaphrodite and three men)

  Michaela Blake folded baby clothes, wondering at the smalness of the miniature articles. Funny to think how people started out so tiny to grow to her size, not to mention as big as her Kalquorian mates.

  Not for the first time she wondered if her clan’s child would be Earther short or closer to the six-and-a-half feet average of the Kalquorians.

  My child. It’s not just my clan’s child. It’s my child too. My daughter.

  If only it rang true, she might have been able to cal Serena hers. But it just didn’t feel that way.

  A knocking sound turned Michaela around, and she smiled to see Jessica standing in the nursery’s open doorway. “Hey. Want some help?”

  “Come on in. I’m just putting the last of the baby’s clothes away. How are you feeling?”

  Jessica waddled in, very un-Empress looking with her bely swolen huge beneath her purple robe. “I’m fine. Your daughter is practicing her kung fu though. She actualy kicked Clajak awake last night.” Michaela shared laughter she didn’t realy feel. “Sorry about that. Were yours that active?” She looked at Jessica’s stomach, trying but not quite succeeding in squelching her envy.

  “Actualy, yes. Noele was the worst, busy girl that she is.” Jessica plopped down in the rocking chair made especialy for Michaela, back when there was stil hope she would carry her own child to term and nurse the baby from her breasts.

  So many plans. So many disappointments.

  Stop it. Just because I couldn’t carry the baby and won’t be able to nurse her doesn’t make me any less her mother. It’s my egg. One of my clan’s sperm. Serena is ours. So stop being such a whiner!

  But it wasn’t easy when it was Jessica’s body balooning big with surrogate motherhood
. Nevermind Michaela attended every checkup, got to see the images that showed Serena possessed her nose, the same curve of her lips. It didn’t matter that Michaela would be there when her baby was born and would be the first to hold her.

  None of that mitigated the fact Michaela’s body, her freakish abomination of a body, had proved an inadequate shelter for her daughter. She could get pregnant, but she couldn’t carry a child past six weeks.

  She knew from Jessica’s two pregnancies that it was common for a mother-to-be to feel unworthy of motherhood, inadequate to the task. But unlike Kalquor’s empress, Michaela had the suspicion it might be true in her case. After al, she wasn’t a real woman, was she?

  “Kalquor to Michaela; come in, Michaela.”

  She jumped at Jessica’s teasing voice. “Sorry. Mental vacation.”

  The empress, her best friend in al the universe, chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s caled Mommy Brain. I can’t tel you how absentminded I was getting ready for my kids.” Michaela smiled dutifuly, and Jessica’s gaze sharpened. “Is everything okay, Michaela?”

  “Fine. Just excited, I guess. One more week and she’s here.” Michaela looked around the nursery. Most of the items had been purchased four weeks into her first pregnancy, the result of a wild, happy shopping spree that she’d gone on the instant she’d found out she was expecting. A week and a half later, she’d sat sobbing in the middle of the room amid the boxes of things the lost baby would never use or wear.

  But I get to have this one, thanks to Jessica.

  “I bet you’re looking forward to having your body back.” Your perfect, baby-sustaining body.

  “It was my honor to carry your child.” Jessica watched her like a hawk.

  “Not the most popular choice you’ve ever made.” Michaela could give her a real grin on that. Both of them enjoyed bucking the overly paternal protectiveness of Kalquorian men. It had caused no end of scandal when Kalquor’s empress had announced she housed Michaela’s embryo in her body.

  “They’l get over it. Besides, what’s one more Imperial disgrace to Kalquor?” Jessica sniggered in delight. The Imperial Clan always seemed to be at odds with the council, and no one loved a fight more than the empress, except perhaps her Dramok clanmate Clajak.

  “I know you missed going to the meetings. I’m stil not sure why you didn’t continue your duties like you did with your children.”

  “I wasn’t taking any chances with Serena.” Jessica put on her mule look, the one that said she was right and no one could tel her different. “You deserve to have this child and if I had lost her through being stubborn I never would have forgiven myself.”

  Tears threatened for an instant, and Michaela blinked them back. Jessica waved wildly at her. “Don’t! I’m so hormonal, I’l cry with you.” Once she’d recovered enough to talk, Michaela said, “You’re the best. I’l never be able to repay this.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d do the same for me in an instant.” Jessica lumbered awkwardly to her feet. “Gotta go, girlfriend. Mom and the in-laws are coming for dinner and I haven’t notified the kitchen yet.”

  Michaela stood too, bitter that she could do it so easily. “I’l pick you up for tomorrow’s doctor’s appointment.” They hugged as best Michaela’s baby would alow. Jessica released her quickly, knowing from past experience how sensitive Michaela usualy was about being embraced, not realizing how desperate her friend was for contact these days.

  Unable to carry a baby. And these days, not worth being touched.

  That was problem number two in Michaela’s life.

  * * * *

  Michaela had dinner on the table when the first of her clan arrived home for the evening. Govi, her Imdiko mate, gave her a quick peck on the top of her head as he entered the intimate dining room. “It smels good. I hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it.”

  She offered him a wan smile. Govi was Kalquor’s leading expert on Earther female psychology, putting in long hours at the psychiatric branch of the local hospital. Once upon a time he’d even succeeded in making her feel worthy of love.

  Weariness masked his good looks as he dropped heavily onto one of the scarlet seating cushions scattered on the white fur-carpeted floor. His long black hair was mussed from his habit of raking his fingers through it, and the softly glowing iluminated wals gave it blue highlights. His 68 years, young yet for a Kalquorian, didn’t show on his movie-star handsomeness. His lips were almost too sensuous for a man, but his nose was straight and long, his jaw strong. Of al the Kalquorians Michaela had seen, only the impossibly perfect features of Emperor Bevau rivaled Govi’s good looks.

  Michaela wished his blue-purple gaze would search her out, but instead his cat’s eyes closed as he leaned his face into his palm, his elbow propped on one bent knee.

  Michaela dropped to her own cushion at the opposite end of the low dining table. She looked at the assorted dishes without a hint of appetite. “You might as wel eat. I haven’t heard from the other two as to when they’l be home.”

  Govi nodded with a yawn and stretched. Despite her depression, Michaela couldn’t help but admire his lean muscled body that filed out his black formsuit so delightfuly. Her center heated as it always did, thinking of how he looked when he was naked and crouched over her, thrusting deeply into her core.

  She should have lost count of the weeks since he’d last touched her. Since any of them had. Unfortunately, she knew exactly how long it had been.

  Govi ladled a hearty stew made of ronka meat and local fresh vegetables into his bowl. His long-lashed eyes closed in appreciation at the first bite. “You made this.”

  “Guilty as charged.” She found a smile at his approval.

  “I can always tel your cooking from the kitchen. You put your heart into it.”

  He stil didn’t look at her even as he praised the meal. Maybe he no longer could bear the sight of her. Michaela’s stomach was heavy, as if a rock lodged within it.

  There might as well be a rock in me. There sure as hell isn’t a baby in there. Never will be.

  Raxstad stepped into the room. Her dreadlocked Nobek mate looked as tired as Govi. Without a word, he crouched for an instant to kiss Michaela’s cheek and took his seat at the table.

  “Long day, huh?” she prompted.

  He nodded, his eyes distant. With his heavy brow and jaw, he was the epitome of masculine strength. He bulged in al the right places, especialy the shoulders, prompting Jessica to nickname him ‘Gorila’.

  The man was fearsome to look at if you weren’t part of his trusted circle.

  He wearily told Michaela, “Interrogations of the Nobek who attempted to kidnap the empress last winter are stil ongoing. Someone locked him up tight, though. He continues to resist al efforts to retrieve information.”

  “That’s unheard of.” Michaela knew how intense Kalquorian methods of interrogation were. Global Security employed psychological tools, drugs, and in extreme situations like that of the growing rebelion, what many would consider torture. In most cases, these implements were impossible for prisoners to resist. The other men involved in Jessica’s abduction, none of whom had possessed any information of real use, had crumbled almost immediately. The Nobek was going on ten months.

  Raxstad only nodded his head as he shoved food in his mouth. He absentmindedly offered Michaela a bite, as Kalquorian tradition of the clan feeding its Matara was ingrained. She shook her head, her appetite quite gone. Neither man seemed to notice she hadn’t eaten a thing.

  Their Dramok Korkla was the last to arrive. By the time he got home, Govi had finished his meal and sat at the table, his head hanging down and eyes closed in exhaustion. Michaela expected the Imdiko to snore at any moment.

  The clan’s leader shook his head as he looked at the silent group. “Govi, you’re excused from remaining while the rest of us eat. Go to bed,” he ordered. “You too, Raxstad, as soon as you’re finished.”

  “Thank you, Dramok,” Govi sighed, climbing arduously
to his feet. His tread thudded down the hal as he went to the sleeping room.

  Korkla settled on his cushion next to Michaela, leaning over to kiss her gently. While not as drawn as the other two, he was obviously tired.

  The youngest of the men, Korkla was nonetheless their leader and a very capable one at that. Even though he was weary, a suggestion of his usual smile ghosted his face, bringing softness to its angles. His features might have been too sharp for true attractiveness if not for the warmth that made him so appealing to Michaela.

  “How are you, love?” he asked, spooning stew into a dish.

  “Fine,” she lied, though her spirits lifted a little to be noticed. “How was your day?”

  He blew a raspberry, an expression of disgust he’d learned from her. She laughed for the second time that day, a record for the last few weeks.

  “That good, huh?” she said, accepting a spoonful of stew he fed her from his bowl.

  “Clajak’s running crazy what with passing that new legislation to do with rebels kidnapping Earther Mataras.” Korkla was the Dramok Emperor’s personal assistant, responsible for keeping things running smoothly and on time for the busy monarch.

  “And sticking his nose in tracking the insurgents.” Raxstad growled with weary frustration.

  “He’s very hands on,” Korkla sighed. “Clajak takes the safety of the women seriously.”

  “He should leave this in Emperor Bevau’s hands. Bevau’s the one with experience in these types of matters.”

  “It is his specialty,” Korkla agreed. “Clajak takes personal responsibility for every attack, though.” Kalquorians opposed to the mixing of Earther and Kalquorian genes were abducting Earther females. While none had been kiled that Michaela knew of, they were held with the demands that al breeding efforts be stopped, even though it meant the extinction of Kalquor’s indigenous population. The attacks had been sporadic at first, but there were signs that the insurgents were coalescing under one unknown person to chalenge the repopulation effort.