by Meg Ripley
“I will definitely have sex with you,” she said slowly, shifting on his lap. “But we have to go slowly. Even as wet as I am, that’s…” she pointed at his genitals. “It’s big.
“Very slowly,” Banek agreed. “I understand from my research that it might be easier if you’re on top.” Jessica took a deep breath; she couldn’t deny the buzzing hum of renewed desire building up inside of her. She wanted more. She wanted to know what that ridged, bumpy cock would feel like rubbing along her inner walls.
Jessica straddled Banek’s hips, licking her lips as she positioned herself over the tip of him. Banek brought her face to his and kissed her hungrily as Jessica sank down onto him. She moaned against his lips as he filled her up inch by inch, pushing past the tightness of her body. “Oh,” Jessica murmured breathlessly. “Oh, Banek. Oh, God…” her breath caught in her throat as Banek’s cock pushed deeper and deeper inside of her, until her hips met his. Jessica paused, breathing slowly and deeply, as her muscles flexed and clenched around the strangely appealing cock. For just a moment, she felt almost uncomfortably filled; but as Banek rocked his hips slowly, making the ridges of his cock rub all along her inner walls, Jessica found herself moving along with him, moaning over and over again.
She barely realized that her speed was picking up as she and Banek moved together, touching each other everywhere their hands could reach, exploring each other’s bodies. Jessica cried out as Banek’s enormous member rubbed everywhere inside of her, pressing continuously against her g-spot, rubbing it at all times and making it impossible for her to hold back the orgasm she could feel building up inside of her. Jessica struggled against her climax, wanting to savor the feeling of Banek, the pleasure he was giving her; but in a matter of moments, it seemed, she was unable to hold back for even a second longer. Once more, wave after wave of pleasure washed through her, even as she continued to lift herself up and push herself down onto the bumpy, ridged cock that gave her such intense pleasure. Banek moved faster inside of her, and Jessica heard his guttural moans filling the air as his body tensed.
Jessica cried out as she felt a flood of almost syrupy, tingling fluid gushing into her. Banek shouted something in the strange language she had heard him use before, thrusting into her hard and fast as he reached his own climax, her body gripping around his cock as her orgasm intensified. Jessica continued moving, pushing down, taking him deep inside until the darkness overwhelmed her and she collapsed against him, utterly exhausted.
****
Banek cradled Jessica in his arms, smiling to himself as he watched her come back again. He had been forewarned that sometimes sex with a Khateen rendered human women incapacitated; but to see it in action was no less interesting. “Welcome back,” he said, brushing a lock of Jessica’s dark hair out of her face as she opened her eyes.
“That was amazing,” Jessica said. She stretched against his body and Banek felt her tense momentarily against him; his latent empathy flickered, feeling the ripple of tenderness she reacted to.
“Are you hurt?” Banek asked, concerned.
Jessica shook her head. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said with a little grin. “Just…maybe let’s wait a little while before we do that again.”
“You want to?”
“Oh, totally. You can’t take that away from me!”
Banek kissed her lightly on the lips, trailing his hands over her body. “I’d like it a lot if you’d be the subject for my research.”
Jessica looked at him intently for a moment. “Wouldn’t you prefer—after all that romance reading—if I’d be your lover?” She raised a dark eyebrow and Banek grinned.
“You can be both, can’t you?”
Jessica caught her bottom lip between her teeth and then giggled, curling up close to him. “How long are you going to be here? I’m not going to be your lover if you’re only here for like, a few weeks.”
Banek laughed. “I’m here for the foreseeable future. And just think of what untold wealth you could give me for my colleagues. I’ll take care of you, Jessica.” Banek kissed her; he realized that he was beginning to really understand the intent behind the human concept of romance.
“Then how can I say no?” Jessica pulled at him ineffectually and Banek read her intent; he laid down on the couch, cradling Jessica’s body against his. He would bring her to his place soon enough; for now he was content with—as he privately joked to himself—fieldwork.
********
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~BONUS STORY~
Chosen Alien Gene: Double Quest
Lenth stepped into the nearly deserted bar, looking around constantly. His gaze flicked from one human to another, sizing up prospects and trying to understand the complex behavior going on around him; he saw a few females—but most of them appeared to be working, walking briskly from one table to another or standing behind the long, ancient-looking bar itself.
Lenth’s gaze settled on a figure unlike the rest of the patrons; the man was sitting at a booth, glancing around just as interestedly as Lenth had been. Anyone looking at Lenth and the other man—who had arrived fifteen minutes prior—would have assumed that they were brothers, or at the very least cousins; they shared the same skin tone: a shade somewhere between brown and gray—an unusual color, though not entirely out of the realm of human possibility—and a similar build: lean, muscular, and almost too tall to quite be believed. Where Lenth had close-cropped, thick brown hair, the other man’s was a few inches longer, unnatural-looking silver. Both men also had unearthly-looking blue-green eyes.
Lenth strode through the quiet bar towards the booth, his lips curling in a smile at the sight of his fellow scientist. “Bronn,” he said, sitting down across from the other man. “I apologize for my tardiness.” Bronn mimicked his smile, glancing around the room once more.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” Bronn responded. He shifted into their native language. “Our superiors are beginning to become anxious.” Lenth nodded.
“I think your idea is a good one,” Lenth said. They had spoken previously about their mutual troubles; neither of them had had any success in the goal of their mission, the goal that all of the scientists on their mission had.
“It would be better than being sent back to Khatanar,” Bronn agreed. Lenth smiled, shaking his head. The planet they came from—called Tau Ceti e by the humans—was far enough away that neither scientist was in a hurry to return alone.
“They wouldn’t send us back, they’d just make our lives miserable.”
“They’d send us back if we went much longer without any progress,” Bronn countered. “I have no interest in being crammed into a capsule and sent back.”
“How are we going to approach this?” Lenth asked.
“I’ve studied human reproduction extensively,” Bronn said, lifting the mug of what Lenth’s own extensive research told him was beer to his lips and taking a long sip. “I have seen several references to human sexuality that seem to suggest that in certain situations, humans mate in groups of three instead of pairs.”
“I have seen a few of these references,” Lenth agreed. On the months that the voyage to this planet had taken, all of the scientists had reviewed as much as they could, studying the facets of human sexuality. “But it seems to be the exception rather than the rule. Do you believe it’s a fertility issue?”
“None of the other reports suggest that it is.” Bronn sat back on the bench, sighing. “I believe—from what I have studied—that recreational mating is a common feature for this species.” Lenth considered it; certainly the wealth of information available publicly about reproduction, including videos, stories, pictures, and guides, implied that the human species did not simply mate for the purposes of reproduction. Early reports from other, more successful Khateen scienti
sts—other members of their crew, colleagues who had already selected and recruited subjects for experimentation—suggested the same.
“This—pornography that they have,” Lenth said slowly. “It’s difficult to decipher how much of it is for the purposes of education and how much of it is entertainment.”
“They are in some ways like children,” Bronn said, taking another sip of his beer. “This isn’t bad; when the waitress arrives, you should order it.” Bronn set the heavy glass mug down and continued his thought. “It’s as though their mating is not simply for the purposes of either bonding or reproduction, but a recreational activity in its own right.” Among the Khateen, mating only served two functions; part of the challenge that faced the researchers sent to the planet known as Earth was that mating seemed to be a much more complicated issue.
“We know much more now than we did when this mission started,” Lenth pointed out. “It seems strange though that something that can result in conception could be used purely as a form of entertainment. I understand that many human women don’t desire this outcome.”
“The planet is fairly well-populated,” Bronn pointed out. “And we both know that the orgasm response in humans can be addictive.”
“But an entire planet of addicts? It should be choked with humans—they should have already destroyed themselves.”
“They have ways of preventing conception, as Hikar discovered.” Hikar, another one of their colleagues, had recruited his human female subject the week before; he had reported to the group about the existence of various methods that humans used to avoid reproduction.
“All I know,” Lenth said, shaking his head in frustration, “is that if we don’t find a subject to experiment on, we’ll be in trouble.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a human woman; she was short, even by human standards, with brilliant purple-colored hair cut short around a sharp-featured face. Dressed in a pair of shorts that revealed the indelible ink markings Lenth knew were called tattoos—designs that looked similar to human artwork in a floral motif—and a tight, black shirt, she looked to Lenth’s gaze like the human mythological creature called a pixie.
“Can I get you something?” she said, and Lenth felt a shiver cascade through his nervous system at the pleasing, soft sound of her voice. The woman’s large, dark eyes took him in.
“I’ll have what my friend is having,” Lenth told her, gesturing to the beer. The woman smiled, nodding quickly.
“Coming right up!” she scribbled something on the pad of paper and moved away from the table, and Lenth watched her move towards the bar.
“What do you think?” Bronn asked. Lenth smiled slowly.
“I think we should approach her,” Lenth replied. “She’s an excellent candidate.”
Bronn watched the woman that he and Lenth had identified as a potential recruit for their now-combined study, tracking her around the room as she went about her work. “Why do you think she’s an excellent candidate?” Bronn asked his colleague, turning his attention back onto Lenth.
“She’s obviously fertile,” Lenth said, his glance moving to watch her as well. “I find her interesting.”
“Interesting?” Bronn asked doubtfully. He had had no success in finding a recruit to study; as yet he had never found a human woman to be specifically interesting. He had found them intriguing as study participants—but his opinion about human intelligence was fairly dim.
“Did you hear her voice?” Lenth asked him.
Bronn raised his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. “She has a very nice voice; how does that make her interesting?”
“She has that—tattooing,” Lenth pointed out, still speaking in their native language.
“Many human women have that,” Bronn pointed out. When the human woman approached the table once more, Bronn looked at her artwork in more detail. The shorts the woman was wearing made it easy to view the whorls and swirls of ink forming flowers on her upper thighs.
“Here you are: one mug of Samuel Adams,” the woman said, smiling. Listening to her voice, Bronn had to admit to himself that it was beautiful. The woman hesitated; instead of turning away quickly, the way she had before, she lingered, looking from Bronn to Lenth. “Do you mind if I ask where you gentlemen come from?” she asked quickly. “Jeez! I apologize if that’s offensive.”
“We’re from far away,” Lenth said, falling back on the explanation that the other Khateen had used—the explanation that both Lenth and Bronn had used in speaking with women previously. Lenth glanced at Bronn, giving him a significant look.
“May I ask your name?” Bronn asked, falling into the English language with slight difficulty. Even after weeks of speaking the language, it still felt stilted and strange to him.
“Giselle,” the woman said, her lips curving in a smile. In that moment, Bronn’s confusion at Lenth’s choice—his decision to attempt to recruit the woman—evaporated. Bronn had seen a dozen women smile; but there was something about the way Giselle’s dark eyes lit up when her lips curved that sent a jolt through him.
“Let us know when you’re on your break, Giselle, and we can tell you all about where we come from,” Lenth suggested.
“I’m actually off in twenty minutes,” she said, glancing at them both. “I wasn’t planning to hang around, but your language sounds very interesting; I study cultures, I’d love to hear more.”
Bronn nodded, smiling at the woman. “We’ll be happy to share everything you want to hear about our culture,” Bronn told her. “Let me pay for my friend so that we don’t hold you up.” He offered one of the strange pieces of paper that humans used as currency; Giselle glanced at it and then smiled again, extending it towards him.
“Actually, this one’s on me; I’ll get you a refill as well. I didn’t catch your names.” She frowned slightly, and there was something about the expression that intrigued Bronn even more than her smile.
“I’m called Bronn,” he said, before gesturing to his colleague. “My friend is Lenth.” Giselle smiled again.
“Well, Bronn and Lenth, I’ll be right back.”
Bronn glanced at his colleague as Giselle walked briskly away. “She is fertile, and she seems interested.” Lenth’s lips tugged upward at the corners in a human-like smile.
“I believe she’s at the phase of reproductive viability—the part of her monthly cycle called ovulation.” Bronn considered it, thinking of the woman’s body language, the way she had looked at both of them, her dark eyes flashing. He nodded.
“How much do we tell her?” he asked his fellow researcher, glancing the way that Giselle had come. The slight sway in her hips as she walked towards the bar suggested to him that Giselle was almost certainly fertile at the moment—not just in the general sense, but imminently so.
“As little as possible,” Lenth suggested. “At least until we can get her to a private location.”
“Should we convince her to consume alcohol while we talk?” Bronn asked; the Khateen metabolism was unaffected by alcohol—they could consume endless quantities without becoming intoxicated. Other researchers had discovered that drinking alcohol with their subjects loosened the subjects’ inhibitions—though there were ethical considerations in consent taken from a woman who was intoxicated.
“Yes,” Lenth said, nodding slowly. “But we should allow her to become sober before any experimentation takes place.”
“Particularly in light of the fact that we will both be experimenting on her,” Bronn agreed. “Yes, that would make sense. We want to be careful not to injure her.” Others of their race had run into problems; even though care had been taken, human women were smaller than Khateen women, particularly their sex organs. More than one researcher had discovered that this could present problems in experiments. Though the Khateen had ample technology for dealing with such injuries, the incidents made the human recruits more reticent, and the empathic response that formed part of the Khateen personality made it difficult to remain objecti
ve, knowing that the subject was in pain, even for a short period of time.
“We’ll be very careful; she seems smaller than many of the human women I have encountered—she’s probably smaller everywhere.” Bronn nodded.
“She’ll be sober, and we’ll make sure that she’s fully apprised of the risks and the benefits before we persuade her to participate.” Lenth laughed the Khateen way, startling one of the nearby human patrons.
“We haven’t been able to persuade any human women on our own,” Lenth pointed out. “It will only be more difficult for us to persuade one together.”
“I don’t believe so,” Bronn said to his colleague as Giselle approached their table once more, armed with another mug of beer.
****
Giselle tugged a chair into place at the edge of the table occupied by the two strange men, Bronn and Lenth. “Okay,” she said, smiling at both, “I’m officially off the clock.”
Lenth favored her with a toothy smile, raising his glass to her. “What would you like to know about us?” he asked.
Giselle considered the question. She had been drawn to the two men as soon as the second had sat down; their strange coloring and the sounds of their language had appealed to the researcher in her right away. A student of anthropology, Giselle was in the process of finding a topic for her Ph.D., and the possibility of writing an ethnography on a culture as rare as the one these two men must belong to lit her mind with voracious curiosity.
“If you’ll forgive me,” she said, glancing from Lenth to Bronn, “I noticed that the two of you are…different.” She felt her cheeks warming with a blush. They had to know that they looked different from any of the other patrons at the bar; she had never seen a person with such strange coloring—let alone two. “Where are you from?”
“We’re from a place called Khatanar,” Bronn said. “It’s very remote.”