by Ruby Dixon
Blue balls. I giggle. Never has the phrase been more true.
He frowns and bats my exploring hands away.
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” I explain, biting my lip. “Just at a saying we have among humans about blue balls.”
“What is the saying?” His breath rasps in his throat as I bend down and take him in my hand again, then begin to nibble up and down his shaft.
“It’s not important.” I drag my tongue down one thick vein, and then back up over the bumpy ridges. “How does that feel?”
When he doesn’t answer, I look up from my ministrations.
His glowing blue eyes pin me with an intense gaze. “Why are you stopping?”
I giggle. “Because I asked you a question?”
“It feels like…nothing I have experienced before.” His voice is husky with need, and even as he says the words, more pre-cum beads on his cock.
“Good enough answer.” I return to licking and nibbling on his length, figuring out which touches he likes. I seem to get the most reaction when I drag my teeth along his tender skin, or when I squeeze hard at the base of his cock.
So naturally, I do both quite a bit, until he’s thrusting into my hand and there’s sweat on his brow. His gaze hasn’t moved from me and my ministrations, though. If another alien ship landed outside, I doubt he’d look away. He’s utterly fascinated with my mouth.
I continue my exploration of his body with a few licks across the top of his shaft, the hard, ridged portion, and then move on to the thumb-like protrusion above it. “What do you call this again?”
“It is a spur.”
“Is it like…a clit? Does it feel good if I touch it?” I drag my fingers over it experimentally. It feels different than his cock. Where his penis feels like velvet over hard muscle, his spur feels…strange. A bit like bone, but covered with skin and flesh. It doesn’t deflate or grow any bigger when his cock does, and when I trace my fingers over it, Raahosh doesn’t seem to react like he does when I lick his cock.
He shrugs. “Everything you do feels good.”
“But this doesn’t feel like…hmm. Like lightning strikes when I lick it?” I lean down and give it an experimental lick, watching his face.
His cock bobs in response. “Feels good,” he murmurs.
But I want him going crazy. So I move to his cock, squeeze the head in my fist, and then lick the slit. “And that?”
Before I can even finish my sentence, he’s bucking into my hand, panting. His eyes close and he falls back into the furs, groaning.
“Yeah, that feels better. Okay, good to know.” I return to my licking and sucking of his cock, because it never hurts to stick with what a girl knows. I’m actually kinda glad that his spur isn’t a major pleasure point, because I know how to work a cock. I don’t know much of what to do with that. I suck on him for a moment more, and then an idea hits me. I lean down and tongue the base of his spur while working his cock with my hand.
His entire body jolts. Raahosh gives a shout, and then my hand is covered in hot, sticky cum as he crests once more.
I continue rubbing my tongue along the underside of his spur and he continues to come, his hips shuddering. I can tell he’s doing his best not to move so he doesn’t stab me with the thing, but I’m pleased that I made him come so hard. I lift my head and admire the cum shining on my fingers. “Guess you’re sensitive there after all.”
He stares at me for a long moment, and then grabs my hand. “I shouldn’t have–”
“No?” I interrupt before he can get all moody on me. “You wanted to come in my mouth?”
Raahosh’s nostrils flare again, the only sign of his acknowledgment of my words. Aww. He’s shy. I give him a blissful smile and then yawn. “I’m gonna grab some of the water and clean us up, and then we can go back to bed. ‘Kay?”
The purring in his chest — and mine — has gone to a low rumble. His cootie is sated for now. Mine too. I’m surprised when he gets up, though, and caresses my cheek. “Wait here.”
I do, and he returns a moment later with a small, soft pelt and the waterskin. He takes my hand in his, and with the water and the fur, cleans me free of his come. It’s a thoughtful gesture, and I can’t help but watch with appreciation when he cleans himself off, too.
Even if I don’t like the man a lot of the time, he’s sure pretty to look at.
He puts the waterskin back in its place on the shelf and then returns to the bed. His cock is half-mast now – I don’t know why I keep looking, but I do – and there’s a softer expression on his hard face. He touches my cheek again. “Sleep now? We have an early day tomorrow.”
I blink and suddenly realize how tired I am. I guess the post-endorphin glow is wearing off quickly. My cootie hums a song to his as I nod and lie back down in the furs. As soon as I lie down, he is at my side, and pulls me against him. My body nestles against his and he’s warm, his arms hugging me to his body. He nuzzles my neck and his hand cups my breast.
I worry he’s going to think too much of our fooling around. “This doesn’t change anything, you know,” I tell him. “I still haven’t accepted you as my mate.”
“More of your denials,” he says in a smug voice. “Say what you want. I will play along with this courting ritual.”
Gah.
RAAHOSH
Has any sa-khui hunter ever slept as well as I did last night? I wake up with my cock hard, pressed against the soft, tailless bottom of my sleepy human mate and know a contentment like none I’ve ever felt before. Liz mumbles something and burrows further under the blankets, so I run a hand along her shoulder and back, admiring her soft human body.
The things she did with her mouth last night…my own mouth goes dry in remembrance. Surely those sorts of things are not done between mates? Maybe humans are more inventive. Whatever it is, I am glad for it – and for her. We must be reaching the end of the strange human courtship, and my cock aches to be sheathed deep inside her. Even now my khui begins to resonate at the very thought of her, and hers answers, singing in her chest.
I let her sleep for a few minutes more, and relieve myself outside of the cave, then return to stoke the coals of the fire. We will be out hunting for most of the day, but I want the fire pit to be warm for when we return, so I can make her a tasty broth out of bones. She’s still pale and thin, my fragile human mate, and even with eating good raw meat and a strong khui inside her, she’s still more delicate than I would like. I’ll feed her like a sickly kit, then. Many hearty meals and lots of marrow-filled broths to make her cheeks flush with color.
Even if that color is a strange pink.
I put on my breechcloth and my boots, and shrug on my tunic. She will need to dress warmly if we will be out all day, and I will have to watch her closely. Liz is not the type that will admit if she cannot keep up. She will protest and snarl and demand, even if she is staggering with weakness.
I admire the strength of her will, but out in the wild, it is better to be safe. A cautious hunter is a successful one.
I kneel beside her sleeping form and pull the covers off. Her pale human body is all soft curves, the gentle swells of her ass calling for my touch. I admire her rounded thighs and the curve of one half-hidden breast, and imagine what delights she will show me tonight.
Perhaps she will welcome me into her cunt, protesting the entire time as part of her bizarre human rituals.
And I will be home.
I nudge her when she doesn’t awaken. “Come, my mate. The hour grows late and we need to start the day.”
She groans and rolls over in the blankets, offering me a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts and the thatch of soft fur between her legs. “Not your mate,” she yawns. “Last night was just for funsies.” Then she grabs the furs and pulls them back over her.
I scowl. Not this again? It doesn’t matter if she took me into her body or not. Our khuis have decided. She took me in her mouth and made me erupt. Of course we are mated. Irritated, I rip the blankets off and tos
s them aside. “If you are not my mate, then I do not need to be soft on you, do I? Get up or you will be welcoming a face full of snow, as I would any other lazy hunter.”
Her eyes open and she scowls at me. “Seriously? Who peed in your cornflakes? You’re in a foul mood.”
“And you’re being slow. Did you wish to hunt or shall I go without you?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she gripes, sitting up. “Dick.”
“The song of my people?” I reply back to her, remembering her words.
“You got it.”
• • •
Once Liz gets moving and out of bed, she picks up speed and I no longer have to wait on her. We bank the fire and leave the cave behind, and I begin to show her how a sa-khui hunter moves in the wild. If it was just me, I would tie a few branches to my tail and whisk them through the snow as I walk to cover my tracks. But because I am traveling with Liz, I want the tracks to remain, in case we get separated. I want her to be able to find her way back to the cave.
Also? She has no tail.
We move through the snow and Liz suggests something called snowshoes. She is smaller than I am and the larger snow drifts go as high as her waist. At her suggestion, we head to the trees and get a few slim stalks so my mate can play around with her shoe concept when we return to the cave.
She’s happy to be out and about. Her cheeks are ruddy, but her eyes are glowing bright and there’s a smile on her face. She’s proud when she demonstrates her bow, too. I sit on my haunches and watch her practice a few shots. It’s a strange weapon, a bit like a sling that fires darts instead of stones. She pulls on the string to launch her darts, and mutters unhappily when it falls a few feet away. She makes some adjustments to the bow itself and adjusts the tiny feathers in the fletching, and then tries again, and this time she’s able to hit a tree with some speed a short distance away.
I’m impressed. “It’s an interesting weapon. You are quite clever.”
She beams at me. “I used to hunt with a bow all the time as a teenager. This isn’t quite the same, and I’m having to adjust as I go, but it’s close. I think I can get it to work.” Liz pats her waist. “Now I need to make an arrow pouch to go here.”
I nod. “I can help you with that when we get back.”
She bites her lip, happiness on her face, and my khui begins to sing. She’s beautiful, even with her flat, strange human features. Her khui responds to mine, and her smile falters a little.
Ah yes. More of the strange human rituals. Denying a mating. I ignore it and gesture at the twin suns, now high in the skies. “Are you ready to hunt then? We can head to the water.”
“Water?” She brightens. “Is it another heated stream? I could use a bath.” She lifts her tunic and wrinkles her nose. “I’m a little sweaty.”
Her scent is like perfume to me, but I shrug. “We can bathe, or we can hunt.”
“Let’s hunt. Maybe we can bathe later tonight?” Her expression is innocent. “If we catch something, I might even let you wash my back.”
I will find her the slowest, most sluggish creature in all the snows so she may fill it with her darts.
LIZ
Hunting with Raahosh is kinda fun. The air is crisp, and even though the snow is heavy, the twin suns are shining and it feels good to get out and explore. I’ve been cooped up too long in that cave. Raahosh isn’t the most patient of men, but I can hold my own. My bow is a work in progress, but I’m confident I can get it to work after a few test shots.
“There,” Raahosh says as we crest a craggy hill. He pulls a strand of hair from his head and releases it, checking if we’re upwind or not. He grunts and then gestures over the horizon. “Do you see the tracks?”
I squint. “How the hell can you see anything from this far away?”
He grabs my chin and tips it down. “You’re not looking at the snow.”
I pull away from him and peer down over the ridge. Sure enough, there are tracks in the snow. They head off over the next crest. “So we’re heading in the right direction?”
“We are,” he agrees. “You look at the snow…or you can follow your nose.”
“My nose?”
“The smell of the water that comes heated from the earth.”
I sniff and he’s right – there’s a faint whiff of rotten eggs in the air, which means there’s water nearby. “Gotcha.”
He arches one heavy brow at me, which is impressive because his forehead is damn near unmovable with all that plating. “What kind of hunting did your father show you?”
“If that’s a crack aimed at my dead father, I will kick your ass—“
He reaches for my chin again and tips my head toward him before I swat his hand away. His hard mouth is curled at the edges in amusement. “So defensive. I meant nothing by it. Your weapons are different. I assumed you had different hunting methods.”
Oh. I relax a little. “Well, my daddy owned some land out in the sticks. He had a deer blind and we’d set up near the trails.” I sketch out to him with words what a deer blind is, and he nods understanding. “And then, of course, there’s the deer corn or the salt lick.”
“Deer corn?”
“Yeah, you kinda feed them in the same spot every day and stuff. Then when they’re nice and fat and used to handouts, they come to you instead of chasing them down.”
He grunts acknowledgment and then shields a hand over his eyes, gazing down at the snow. “We have kits that do that to a few two-fangs back at the home caves. But we call those creatures ‘pets’.”
“Hey,” I say defensively, thwapping him on the arm. “Not every family can afford a freezer full of fresh meat, you know. You do what you have to in order to survive, Mister Judgey.” Of course, I remember saying the same thing to my father back when I was younger. Pot, kettle and all that. “If to puts food on the table, it’s hunting.”
“Wise words,” he says. “But now you must learn to track.”
He’s right, of course. “Lead on, o wise one.”
We cross over the hills and I slog through the snow, following him. About fifty yards away, I see the bubbling pool of water, bright blue against the snow. Which is great…except that there’s a cliff about five feet ahead of us, and it’s a sheer drop for at least twenty or thirty feet. Drinking at the water is a shaggy, pony-like creature that looks like a cross between Bambi and a sheepdog.
“Dvisti,” Raahosh says.
“Okey-doke. Looks like good eating.” I pull up my bow and nock an arrow, then aim. The wind is against me, and we’re pretty far away. I’m still not used to the pull on the bow and my needle-like bone arrows are iffy at best. “I don’t think I can hit him from here. How do we get down there?”
“Wait here,” he tells me, straightening. “I’ll find a path down.” Raahosh saunters away, spear in hand, and I might ogle his ass a bit.
Just a bit.
I relax my arrow and glance down at the creature, watching it to see if it leaves. I’m so intent on watching it, that I almost miss the chirrup I hear from behind me. But then it happens again.
I glance over my shoulder.
There’s a friggin’ Ewok. Ohmigod.
Okay, so it’s not really an Ewok. It’s a fuzzy thing that looks more like an overgrown Furby with long arms and legs, but the round eyes blinking at me are adorable. It chirrups again and then dashes forward a step or two, then moves back. It blinks at me, then repeats the motion and runs in a circle.
Is this a game? For all of its hair and beaky face, it looks young. Maybe it’s the big, liquid eyes. When it chirrups at me again, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
This might be bad. Like, finding a happy, roly-poly bear cub bad, only to realize that Mommy bear is a few feet away. “Raahosh? You still here?”
It cocks its head and scampers away, and I slowly replace my arrow back into firing position. The chirrup sounds again—
And then is repeated by another, deeper creature’s voice. And another. And another. A
s I gaze out at the snowy ridges behind me, they seem to emerge from everywhere. More of the tall, furry creatures with dirty, matted hair and bulging eyes.
I was right. This one’s a baby. The others don’t look nearly as friendly.
“Raahosh?” I call again, raising my arrow as one of the biggest ones moves toward me. “Help?”
“Liz,” Raahosh says in a low voice, off to my side. I look over at him, heart pounding, and see he’s several feet away, spear at the ready. He’s in a stare-down with three big, nasty versions of the things. He doesn’t look over at me, and his stance is one of battle. He’s ready to attack the moment anyone moves a muscle.
“What are these?” I hiss. One takes another step forward, and I step backward, only to remember that I’m on the edge of a cliff. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“They are metlaks. And where there is one, there is a hundred.”
“Well, I see a hundred,” I say, exaggerating a bit. Just a bit. There’s probably only two dozen or so. Gee. That’s all.
“My mate,” Raahosh says in a low voice. “When I say run, you must run. Do not argue.”
What is he talking about? Is he going to distract them so I can run away? “What? No! I—“
“Liz,” he says again, warningly. I look over and his hand clenches on his spear. “Do not argue with me. Now — go!” With that, he gives a battle cry and surges forward.
Fuck that noise. I aim my first arrow and let it fly just as the first creature opens its mouth and lunges at me with a snarl.
Part Four
RAAHOSH
The scene before me is something out of my worst nightmares. Liz’s small form stands on the edge of the cliff, her strange weapon clenched in her hands. Metlaks – the wild, unpredictable creatures – surround her. I have seen them tear a hunter limb from limb in a matter of seconds, and I have seen them walk past another as if he did not exist. They are impossible to understand, and savage when provoked.