by Olivia Myers
Trembling, she went to him and reached out with her hand. She could see he didn't believe she'd do it.
It was not as hot as she had feared it would be. The skin felt far smoother and softer. She ran her fingers all around its arced length, squeezed and said, "Hey, ouch!"
"What's wrong?"
"It's not squishy at all."
"Sorry." He didn't sound it.
She probed the blunt tip, then gave a little shriek as a part of him peeled back. She jerked away. "I tore you!"
He shook his head. "It's not one solid piece. They're tubes."
"Tubes."
"Yes, at least the outer part. There's a solid inner tube in there, but it's not very thick." He sounded almost matter-of-fact, but the low rumble in his voice gave away how little he liked this conversation.
"Look," he said. "I already told you our women make eggs. Well, each egg hatches a different child. Genetically different."
"How?" she said incredulously. "I mean, humans have fraternal twins, but not like that."
"Each tube in the Resstessian penis makes different sperm," he said patiently as though to a child. "A woman typically makes a dozen different eggs in one cycle. The number of tubes in any mating determines the number of different genetic combinations and to a certain extent the number of eggs that will be fertilized. The innermost tubes have no sperm in the semen. The outermost tubes have the most sperm. One fuck. Twelve kids. Easy. High genetic diversity. Important in our case."
When not all the children survive, she recalled. She said slowly, "So in order to stop a woman becoming pregnant, you just...retract the outermost tubes. Kind of a natural form of birth control?"
"More or less."
"But what about—well—interspecies sex?"
"That's a little different," he admitted. "There's no problem if most of the tubes are retracted."
"Like that?" She touched him again.
"Yes."
"And if they're not?"
"Then it had better be in the ass," he said bluntly. "Because you would conceive."
"Oh." She decided she did not want to go where those thoughts took her.
He was showing his teeth. "It's time, Larissa. Last chance to run." Each of his hands slid a chunk of her long black hair through his. His hands...Larissa's eyes bulged.
"You do have...."
"I keep them filed. They're also retractable. Fully." He showed her.
She remembered when his fingers were inside her sex. Had the flaj disguised those claws, or had they been the cause of those amazing sensations? She was suddenly eager to find out.
Something impish made her tease him. "Maybe I should run. After all, well, claws. I don't think I can handle claws."
The blues of his eyes darkened as the slits of his pupils widened. All desire to tease him fled at that look. Her mouth watered. Her breasts peaked. Her sex swelled.
He sprang. One moment she was standing before him, the next she was on the floor. He was on her, pressing her down so she couldn't move one finger. The sensations swamped her—the almost velvety roughness and hardness of his torso scales, the slicker ones on the inside of his arms.
And the heat. His body temperature had to be a good five degrees hotter than her own. She wanted to know if his scales had blood vessels or just transmitted the heat from his flesh. But the time for asking questions had passed.
His cock was stabbing at her. Its warmth drove her crazy. She wanted closer to it. She wanted closer to everything. He had to know it, too, as they could both hear the whimpers coming from her throat.
His mouth came open onto hers. Larissa felt the slick heat of his tongue, then probed tentatively into his mouth in return—and quickly retreated. His teeth were sharp.
"Be careful," he gritted. "I tongue you. You don't tongue me. We're not equal in this."
That made her shudder. They weren't equal in any of it, she thought.
"I don't care. Just put your cock inside me," she breathed. "Don't wait. I've wanted you there since, stars, Vector, since I woke up to your bioplay. Please."
He made a fierce sound against her breast. "Don't move," he said. His teeth came out and very, very carefully surrounded the nipple. Tiny needlepricks made tears spring to her eyes. It was on the edge of hurting. Abruptly her nipple was sucked into his mouth and the strong, soft suckling made her gasp.
"Vector, didn't you hear me? I want—"
His legs widened, forcing hers apart, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt herself drench with fluids, open, throb.
But all he did was take her clit between his fingertips and squeeze. His fingers twisted and she felt the scrape of his claws.
"No," she moaned and flung her head to the side.
His mouth popped off the nipple. "Damn, you're soaking. Your clit is so hard. Larissa, does it hurt?"
"No, yes. No. Just come inside me, please."
But he just said, "Keep talking," and returned to suckling her breast. Soon she was yelling, demanding that he stop teasing her. Every time he lifted his head and looked at her, she felt his ferocious satisfaction. He was enjoying this, damn his scales.
She could feel his cock rubbing against her vulva, sliding back and forth in a rhythm. Swiftly she reached down and tried to push it where she wanted it.
"How many men have there really been, Larissa? Tell me the truth. I won't go nova on you, even if you've fucked the whole damn galaxy."
"None, you stupid man." Her hips thrust, seeking his cock. There! She'd managed to capture—no. The tip wasn't pointed to probe. She'd have to wait for him to come around to lodging himself there. Unless...
She reached down and grabbed his flesh. Squeezed and squeezed, for all the good it did—there was just no give. He lifted his head and looked down, obviously interested in what she was doing but nowhere near as wild as she'd expect a man to be. If pressure didn't do it for him, what would it take...?
Suddenly she got a clue. He'd seemed to relish any contact with her wetness. So she lifted up and aided him. His eyes darkened and his lips opened. Then with her hands, she smeared her fluids all over every bit of him. "Larissa," he said hoarsely. He rose up on his arms and his hands pinned hers down. This was his mounting. Yes.
His cock slowly entered her. Despite the care he'd taken to size down, she still felt stretched almost painfully. Almost. Just barely. Mostly it was all pleasure.
"So wet," he rumbled. "That's good."
Apparently, it was very good, because he wasn't a short fuck. They rolled together on the floor for almost an hour, while Larissa found herself pleasured out of her senses, in whatever way he felt like, always pounding inside her, frequently demanding she tell him if this hurt or that hurt.
It was the first time she'd made love to a man while focusing more on her own sensations than his. By the time he came, she was feeling almost guilty. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd climaxed, each as powerful as the first. No tapering here. She had no idea what the previous human women he'd taken to bed were thinking; how could they have gotten more pain than pleasure from Vector? He was the antithesis of casual fuck.
Only when she began to slow down herself, did Vector bring it to an end. That low sound she recognized rumbled from his throat, and his body began to tremble. His scales pricked her skin all down the front. Every nerve in her body focused on him. He was expanding inside her. Not just a little, but a scary lot. Heat and pressure burst inside her and a brand new sensation gripped her and then exploded. What the hell was that? Some kind of cervical orgasm?
He shouted, shuddered, and kept thrusting—and thrusting—and she really could feel his ejaculate. The breath got knocked out of her a couple of times, but only for a few moments. She could live with it. “Will your…sprayseed…burn me?”
“No,” he said. “Your vaginal walls are safe; it just hurts your outer skin.”
When he finally slid out, he kept his softened flesh against hers and, turning his head, set in to a session of suckling her breast
s that made her want to sob with happiness.
Much, much later, she started feeling normal again. She found her breath was still a little short in supply, but that didn't bother her too much. What was somewhat worrisome was how wet she was all over, with her own sweat and who-knows-what else. Vector was dabbing her with her clothes, wiping her thighs, and licking her navel.
He looked satisfied. "You're a wet pet, you know that? That's probably about the only thing saving you." He trailed one claw up her thigh, across her belly, up to her lips. She grabbed the tip instinctively with her teeth.
"Wet pet?"
"Just a figure of speech."
"There's no saving me now," she said. "Not from you."
His Resstessian eyes narrowed. "Good. I'm glad you see that. Then you'll come home with me tonight. And you might as well move your stuff to my place tomorrow."
"Your unit?"
"It's where I live."
Move in with him. Give up her fancy penthouse. Become the woman of an alien.
"If I do, will you finally admit that a human and a Resstessian can be in a relationship happily together?"
"Maybe. If you're not too annoying."
"Well, that's easy. Just keep your mouth shut, and we'll get along fine!"
She was gratified to learn that he did know how to smile.
The End
Pleasure In the Stars
Natalie looked at her work friends, Jackie and Moona, and sighed as she gratefully let her suitcase bounce heavily onto the hotel bed. "My problem, you see, is that I'm shy."
"You, shy. Really?" Jackie retorted, tossing her blond curls. "Would someone who's supposed to be shy just up and claim the only bed with a magnificent view? I was the one who reserved this gorgeous suite, at the most luxurious hotel on the shore, in the most exquisite mecca of delight in this arm of the galaxy. I think I deserve the window bed at least. Look at the ocean!"
Natalie glanced out at the vast green water tinted with pink, but kept coming back to the curving, elegant lines of the domed and arched buildings on the shoreline—hotels, restaurants, theaters, and shopping. Unlike at home, here it was the man-made tourist attractions, not the natural surroundings, that drew the eye.
"Why you and not me?" Moona interjected, collapsing on the middle bed and stretching, a big smile on her wide lips. "I made the flight reservations. Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable seats on any ship headed this way at this time of year? It's right in the middle of the big pleasure season."
"New Saigon doesn't have a pleasure season," Natalie said automatically. "It's a city of perpetual pleasure, so I've heard. That's why it's always hard to book reservations here."
"Wow, you were serious that you haven't ever been here before, weren't you?" Moona asked.
Natalie shook her head and tried not to blush. It wasn’t her fault if she wasn’t particularly well-traveled. She pried open her suitcase and then stopped and stared. Had she really bought those swimsuits on some kind of crazy, impulsive shopping spree? Those dresses? What had she been thinking she was going to do while on vacation with her work friends? She wouldn't reveal that kind of skin to her mother. What made her think she could bring herself to reveal it to a bunch of holiday-goers she didn't even know?
Seeming not to notice Natalie’s blushes or discomfort, Moona continued, "Gosh, it seems like you've been working at the travel agency for ages, but it actually hasn’t been that long. Either way, I thought you'd have come here already at least once in your life. Everyone who's got even the slightest curiosity about sex or men, or men or sex, or even just sex, or just men, or women, or..."
"Moona!" Jackie said.
Moona winked. "Everyone just has to visit. I mean, it's New Saigon."
Jackie snorted. "Natalie's never come here at all—in any sense of the word! Remember? That's why we had to drag her here and why she refused to help with anything."
"I packed my own suitcase," Natalie said with dignity. She didn’t want to argue with them, but she doubted her friends would have allowed her to plan much if she’d offered. They seemed fully convinced that they knew this place so well they could plan it in their sleep.
"Only because I stood right over you until you did—and did it right!" Moona chided. "You have no idea how lucky you are, girl. We've managed to squeeze into this place during the Pleasure-Love Festival."
"Pleasure-Love Festival?" A laugh burst out of Natalie, loosening up the tightness in her gut that had been a constant companion since they'd left their home planet three days ago. "You're joking. What do they need a festival for when they're basically a city based on the industry of hedonism?"
"It's no joke. I suspect that's why the agency offered to pay for this trip. Bet you anything when we get back, they'll drill us about the whole experience at a luxury sex hotel and then have us put together a new festival package."
To Natalie's amazement, Jackie proceeded to shimmy into a transparent plastic pant suit that showed off her lack of underwear. "People come from star systems all around just to experience it for themselves. You must be utterly provincial if you haven't heard the legend, girl. How does it go? If you hook up with someone of a different race at the Pleasure-Love Festival and have the absolute best sex in your life, you will fall in love."
"That's ridiculous. Why another race? Why here?"
"Well, of course it's ridiculous, but it's thrilling, too, isn't it?" Moona sighed. "Human guys are sweet, but some of these alien races are knock-your-boots-off orgasmic! Mmm. You've got to try out the bed, Nat. It's unbelievably soft."
Natalie blinked. In the almost eleven months she'd known her, Moona, who was much older than either Jackie or Natalie, had never struck her as a sensualist, but now she stretched her limbs on the velvet duvet, her slightly plump, middle-aged body clearly enjoying every movement as it sank deliciously into the plush bed. Natalie envied her the ability to abandon herself like that. Sighing again, she wondered which pocket of her overnight kit held her toothbrush.
Jackie looked at her reflection in the window as she applied makeup to her small, cupid's-bow lips. "It's not ridiculous at all. I've been here at least five times and each time, I have the best sex in my life and I fall in love. Yummy love."
"That's not love! And it's a self-fulfilling prophecy," Natalie pointed out earnestly. "If the sex is that good, of course you're going to convince yourself you're in love."
"Self or not, that prophecy's a fulfilling one, all right." Jackie smiled at her reflection. "Ready to go, girls?"
"Go! We just got here!" Natalie gasped. "I need to unpack. Brush my teeth. Shower. Rest and relax for a while." Soak in the fact that I'm really here, in a city known for decadence. Me, Natalie Ellen Hicklepat. And somehow I need to come to terms with the surreal fact that I let these fun-loving ladies talk me into this trip.
"The flight wasn't that tiring, silly. You'd think you were as old as me." Moona jumped up and began tearing through her suitcase. "Where did I put that gold strapless....Hey, did you see those three built Jargottes watching us from the back of the ship? The gray one really thought you were cute, Natalie. He kept winking at you."
Natalie did blush at that. "I didn't notice. That's what I meant before. I'm not shy around you guys. It's men. And the exotic ones are so...well..."
"Exotic?"
"Yeah. I'm not a prude. I just like to know a man before I get close to him. Talk to him. Meet his family. And then, you know, if we're attracted to each other, I have no problem kissing him. But it takes me a long time to work up the nerve to talk to a guy. To relax enough. At least six or seven dates. Then..."
"That's what extra-potent drinks are for," Jackie yawned. "I'm starving here."
"New Saigon will be good for you," Moona assured her as they walked out the door not ten minutes after entering.
That's what I'm afraid of, Natalie didn't say. I'm not sure I want New Saigon to be good for me. Not at all.
***
"Well? What do you think?"
&nbs
p; It was ten hours later. Moona and Natalie were back at the hotel, freshening up in their suite. Natalie would just as soon shower and collapse into bed, but Moona was flushed, happy, and obviously having a great time. It apparently didn't occur to her that Natalie might be ready to call it a day.
"I think we lost Jackie," Natalie said evasively.
"Didn't you see? She went for a walk along the shore with that guy from Aphena-2 Beta. Long hair. Red fur coat. The one who kept cutting in while she was dancing with the two clones from the Shoshun Belt."
Natalie's nose wrinkled. "You mean the guy with the ankle rings she met at dinner? Is that really safe?"
"Sure."
"But...she doesn't know him. What if she...what if they...."
"Don't you remember those med-checks we went through when we got off the ship? Everyone goes through that when a new ship arrives. And the locals are required to keep their health and civilian records at stellar rank. The success of the planet depends on it, right? Read a few of those brochures I linked to."
"But...but..."
"It's all safe. No diseases. No crime. Honestly, Nat, you think people would come here and really let loose if they couldn't put their worries behind them?"
"Well..."
"Mm-hmm. Just because you haven't put your worries behind you! Every time I look around, you're being quiet and doing your shy thing. You've barely talked to anyone."
"I told you. It's hard for me to relax."
Moona had already changed into two different outfits today. Now Natalie watched her change into a third. This one covered only one of her large breasts, leaving the other brown-tipped globe fully exposed. Natalie found herself struggling not to act shocked. It was getting only slightly easier after seeing some of the crazy, revealing outfits almost everybody wore in this town. Even the men commonly walked around shirtless. Pants, at least, stayed on...and for that, Natalie was intensely grateful.
"Honestly, if you would drink something...you haven't touched a drop of liquor, have you? Nobody abstains on New Saigon! I mean...it's New Saigon!"
I wish you'd stop saying that. "I keep telling you. You don't want to see me drunk," Natalie insisted. "I get maudlin. You think I'm anxious now? Give me a Hot Squat Purple Sunset and you'll really see me worry about stuff."