Merjan took her hand. “Consecration of a King’s marriage is a political as well as a religious matter,” he told her, pulling her to him, “therefore you are required to please both the state in the form of Your King and the Gods...”
With you? She was speechless and shocked. Couldn’t they have warned her about this, instructed her on the “protocol” of the wedding night? Surely they understood this was all very foreign to a Human. Ignoring her reaction, the Priest proceeded to guide her hand to his powerful body. Stunned, she allowed Merjan to begin using her hand on his erection, working it up and down. I guess it could be worse…
Beth looked from one beautiful Versallian to the other. As her glance settled on her new husband, she noted Sefron held his own his thick penis in his right hand. He smiled back at her, “Are you ready and open to this gift, my Queen?”
Beth wanted to answer but words would not come. She looked from King to Priest, concentrating on their bodies as they pressed closer, heat radiating from their dark green flesh.
Merjan took her silent smile as a “yes”. And he was not wrong. She wanted to feel all of it, to truly release herself. As he cupped the back of her head in his large hand and kissed her deeply, she gave herself over to the sensations. She slid her tongue between his full lips as she continued stroking him. The Priest in turn caressed her breasts.
Without warning, Merjan lifted her off her feet. She squealed reflexively and he laughed. He carried her to the bed and threw her down onto the thick, silken duvet. “We prepared for you,” he told her. He knelt between her legs, spreading them gently apart with his hands.
The Priest began kissing the inside of her thighs, passionately making his way up from her knees, closer and closer…then his tongue was running expertly over her vulvae, making her squirm and shudder in delight.
Beth sat up a bit, supporting herself on her elbows, needing to watch the muscles in his shoulders and back work as he reveled in her warmth, her wetness. He teased with his tongue, then slid it between her two pink lips. She laid back down in response, breath catching in her throat.
Sefron had joined them on the bed and she realized he was close beside her. He too knelt, but near her head, so near that his penis brushed her cheek. So warm, so smooth… she hungrily took it in her mouth, sucking the rounded head, running her tongue along the underside of his erection. Never in her life had she even fantasized of such pleasure, of letting her body and mind free to just feel. And to expand her horizons so quickly, to accept two partners at once…
She gripped the base of her King’s shaft with one hand while her other hand grabbed at Merjan’s head between her legs. Her fingers sunk into his wild hair and she pulled his mouth harder onto her. The tip of his tongue found her clit, working softly at first with long, luxurious stokes. Beth instinctively clenched her thighs around his head and thrust her pelvis forward, grinding herself against his hot exploring mouth.
Merjan took this as a sign to increase his pressure and speed, teasing her with firm, rapid flicks. A low moan emitted from deep within Beth. It’s been so long, it’s been so long…
Taking her mouth reluctantly from Sefron, Beth tightened her grip on Merjan’s hair with both of her hands. “Your turn,” she said, pulling him up over her glistening body.
With her King now on one side and her Priest on the other, Beth took turns sharing her Human expertise with one then the other. She stroked each male slowly, in turn, running her fingertips up and across their shafts. She kissed the head of each, felt the soft flesh of their manhood slide over her lips and tongue.
Passion intensified, the trio were sweating now, their bodies shining in the flickering candlelight. Beth felt an ache burning and twisting her to the core. No longer able to delay, as she kept her mouth on Sefron she moved her hand between her legs. The moment she touched herself, a wave of electricity slammed her. She was gripped by an orgasm so intense it bordered on pain.
She looked at both men, a hunger in her eyes, an animal lust that she had never before experienced. As if spurred on by her gaze, Sefron suddenly grabbed her shoulders forcefully. Beth was shocked, frightened by the strength of his hands. This was not what she wanted. Rough was not in her vocabulary. Sefron lifted her off the bed and kissed her neck. Beth pulled away, squirming, fighting his hold. He pulled her back to him too quickly and she slapped him.
Surprised, the new King paused. Beth, suddenly sober and able to see he had meant no harm, began to laugh. Her King joined her in the laughter. “And now, my Queen,” he said, lust burning in his eyes, “we join eternity.”
Her heart fluttered as Sefron coaxed her legs wide, his searing palm running over the curve of her hips, down to her silky inner thighs. She pictured Sefron’s penis, hard and long… I hope he goes slow, I hope he… caught unawares, Beth let a primal moan escape from her lips as he slowly slid into her. He pulled out quickly then entered her again, the full measure of his penis inside her now.
Beth braced herself against Merjan’s strong body, staring into Sefron’s eyes as he moved against her with each thrust, her slick wet lips grasping his shaft when he stopped, not moving, his eyes closed, just feeling… feeling… She shouted as she came. Throwing her head back, her eyes opening wide, then staring at her King. She slowed her pace, moving carefully, her body stimulated to its maximum.
Wiping the beads of sweat from her face, Beth smiled and leaned into him, kissing him full on the mouth. His chest radiated heat as she pressed her breasts against him, kissing him harder, feeling his strong arms wrap around her in return.
And then a voice breathed “It is beautiful.” It was Merjan, caught up in the moment of their ecstasy. He was standing at the side of the bed now. She had been so wrapped up in the consummation with her King she hadn’t noticed him leave the bed.
Sated, reveling in the pure sensation of it all, Beth had to ask: “Is it always going to be like this?” Sefron smiled, “It can be,” he said, “though our holy man will not join us in the future.”
Beth looked back at Merjan. He reverently stepped away from the bed, one hand to the statue in prayer. They were blessed.
Glad to finally be alone with her new King, Beth proceeded to wash his flushed, exhausted body, reveling in the beauty that was this Versallian male. He in turn bathed her gently, sheer adoration in his eyes. They ate and slept, spent from their experiences.
In the morning, she was dressed in robes befitting her new status and, at King Sefron’s side, she was welcomed by the people as their Queen. She waved regally to the assembled crowd, and realized for the first time in her life, she was not denying herself anything—and she knew she was ready for whatever came next.
THE END
Saved by the Alien
Chapter 1
For Grace McGill, it was a miserable day in a frustrating week in the middle of a disappointing year.
She had moved to the Moon colonies ten months ago, hoping things would change for her up there. New life, new beginnings. She quit her job in Seattle, gave up her apartment, went out with her best friends night after night, drinking and eating, drowning her sorrows and uncertainties in the same manner she always had: with food, drink and distraction.
At least that's what her mom always told her in that condescending tone she used when doling out her 'sound advice.' The night before Grace was to hop on her high-speed lunar shuttle, it was the same as always. "Grace, you know what you need to do," her mother said, looking her daughter up and down with just enough disapproval to leave Grace squirming with the thought of staying any longer.
"I know what you think I need to do," Grace said, standing her ground as much as she was able, "but, no, I don't know what I really need to do."
"You need to loose weight," her mother continued, oblivious to Grace's discomfort, "and you need to find a better paying job. No man wants a chubby girl who can't take care of herself."
Chubby girl. That's what her mother always called her. Ever since she was a child, Grace had had weight p
roblems. She was never obese, but then again, she had never been a slim girl either. Chubby, her mother reminded her again and again, she was, always had been, and might always be chubby, and in her mother's narrow, high-class eyes, it was the root of all of her ongoing problems. Skipped over for promotion? Because she was chubby. Divorced after five years of marriage? Because she was chubby. Now in her early thirties with no romantic prospects, working an entry level position as a secretary for the largest exporter of lunar zinc in western Tranquility Colony, already three years divorced and spending far too much time at Chow Fu's bar and deli? Because, once again, she was a lonely, overlooked, introspective chubby girl.
A few dozen insults and curses came to Grace's mind as she sat at her mother's table, no longer enjoying her grilled chicken and carbohydrate paste. Instead of uttering her piercing rebuttal, she quietly placed her fork across her plate and stood. "I have to get home and finish packing," she told her mother, unable to meet eyes, "my shuttle leaves early tomorrow."
Her mother looked shocked at first, then sadness crept into her eyes. "Grace, I..." Sometimes her mother understood when she had pushed too far at the wrong time. Unfortunately, the woman was too selfish to dwell on her shortcomings long. "Take mostly warm clothes," her mother continued, "I hear it gets nothing but cold where you're heading."
None of this mattered at the time, however, not when her hands were tied and her eyes blindfolded. She wanted to scream but her mouth was tightly gagged with a leather strap.
Grace struggled the first hour or so, but by this point she had grown tired and uninspired from her impotent attempts at freedom. What did he say? Grace asked herself. She held her breath, tuned her ears towards the voice coming from somewhere in front of her.
"Tell him I'll be there in two days." The voice was baritone and gruff, the hint of a growl lurking in its depths. It's a B'hauf, Grace thought, we're allies, what the hell is he doing kidnapping an Earth girl?
She was right, of course, it was not logical. The B'haufs had come to Earth twenty-five years before when their ship, holding fifteen thousand civilians and a few hundred military personnel, crashed on the less-populated far side of the Moon. From those chaotic beginnings grew a strong and evolving alliance between the two species. It was only ten years later, when the news leaked concerning the eons-old B'hauvian war against the imperialistic Grodoro war clan, that the Earthly powers that be realized they might have gotten in over their heads in their first attempt at galactic ambassadorship.
Nonetheless, peace and cooperation were the norm between B'haufs and humans. About nine thousand of the large-built, sculpted muscled, long-haired, dark-blue alien castaways stayed on the Moon, building a community in the areas surrounding their crashed vessel, and their examples of social structure and technology immediately influenced the course of Earthly society. Crime was down, people were happier, the environment was healing again for the first time since coal and factory labor were discovered.
Still...
"Tell them I want the grid down." The gruff voice was speaking into a radio; Grace heard a muffled, undecipherable voice reply again. Her B'hauvian abductor gave a barking scoff. "I don't care how. The grid stays off the entire time I'm there. I don't trust your tactics, Daban, and I don't want to end up on the wrong side of one of your maneuvers and find myself locked up with no key somewhere in your compound."
Daban? A B'hauf name. What the...
"Just do it," the voice commanded, "or it's off. Good luck finding yourself a clean, untraceable specimen like this one." Grace felt a hand clamp her bent knee. She yelped and pulled her leg back. Her captor chuckled. "Ok, great," he said, "see you in two days." The clink of the radio being hung on its hook, a long sigh as her kidnapper settled into his seat, flipping a few switches and clacking something into place. Then he grabbed Grace by the shoulders.
She struggled but he was strong. What can I do? Her confidence knocked down again and again over the course of her luckless life, Grace surrendered, ceased her resistance. Whatever you're going to do, just get it over with. Her fears were quickly relieved when a big hand grasped the edge of her blindfold and pulled it up, a second hand yanking down the gag in her mouth.
"Might as well relax," the B'hauf male said, a twinkle in his hard yellow eyes, "it's going to be a long trip."
Chapter 2
"So," Daban said, running his calloused hand down Grace's bare arm, "this is what you bring me?"
Grace was frightened, her gaze darting across the room, from her kidnapper's eyes to Daban's to the two security-type B'haufs standing off to the side, holding rifles and stern expressions. Her captor stepped forward, ran his thick fingers through her long sandy-blonde hair. "She is perfect, yes?" he said, not really a question, "and she works for McWeillian."
Daban gave Grace a curious look, then turned to the kidnapper. "McWeillian?" he asked slowly, "You're sure?"
Her kidnapper chuckled. He reached into his pants pocket and removed an ID badge, handing it to Daban.
Daban looked it over. It was Grace's work badge: Grace McGill, Assistant Secretary to Gregory McWeillian.
Daban smiled. "Fonna," he said to the kidnapper, "you are a clever, clever soldier." He handed the ID badge back to Fonna. "I might have just the right reward for one of your..." his eyes scanned Grace, then back to her abductor. "... talents."
Fonna shrugged it off. "Doing my part for the cause," he said, "revolutions don't make themselves."
Grace watched Daban laugh heartily. "That they don't," he said, "that they don't."
Daban turned to his two guards, "Bavo, Felsa," he said, waving them over, "escort our esteemed guest to her chambers while we discuss business." Without another word, Daban walked off with Fanno, heading down a well-lit, narrow corridor that stretched off the dim landing bay where they had met.
The pair of guards came up behind Grace, one of them urged her forward with the butt of his rifle. Grace looked back at the other, the one who had placed a strong but gentle hand on her shoulder. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.
She could tell he wanted to say something, but felt he could not. Finally, he met her eyes. "To a holding cell," he told her, "until the deal is worked out."
"What deal?" she asked, moving forward, walking where the other guard, the pock-faced, square-jawed one who had nudged her with his weapon, was leading them. "What do you want with me?" Grace asked, keeping her focus on the shorter guard, the one with uncertain but kind eyes.
The kind-eyed guard made the mistake of meeting his colleague's glare. Ignoring it, he said, "They plan on selling you to Grodoroian spies. They want to escalate the war, break the treaty." Though his fellow guard growled in protest, the kind-eyed guard completed his thought. "They want to bring the war to Earth and get ahold of some power in the aftermath."
Grace's eyes grew wide, horror struggling with disbelief for control of her emotions. "That's why they need me." It made sense to her now. "The zinc. For their weapons, the big ones need zinc to work."
The kind-eyed guard said nothing, even he knew not to push this conversation further. "Just walk, please," he commanded politely, turning his eyes forward again, "you'll be treated well in the meantime, you have my word."
The word of a traitorous alien soldier who plans on selling me? Grace wanted to smirk and say something condescending, but she thought better of it. Considering her circumstances lately, she couldn't be overly picky with any assurance of comfort and relative safety. I guess it could be worse, she surmised, letting them lead her farther into the massive ship.
Bavo hadn't felt right about the captain's plans since he was first told last week. He didn't argue, of course, and he didn't complain. It was never a good idea to question Captain Daban in front of the crew. So he followed orders, avoiding as much responsibility in the plan as possible without hindering or endangering the rest of the crew.
But now that he had seen her, the Earth woman's curves, the slope of her breasts, her long hair and round bottom... oh
my gods, she's beautiful... Bavo knew he couldn't go through with the conspiracy. But what can I do?
He let Felsa lead the way, taking their captive down the stairs, towards the cargo bay where it was agreed that she would be held until the trade with the Grodoro envoy was complete. I can at least bring her extra blankets. Kind-eyed Bavo was always too sympathetic for this line of work. He believed in the rhetoric of the revolution, that all sentient beings are equal and that none should suffer for the advancement of another, but the actions that sometimes had to take place, the bloody hands and subversive tactics, never sat well with him.
Regardless of his feelings, he was in too deep to back out, the plan had moved too far forward to stop, so the best he could do was to provide comfort while he could. I'll sneak her some extra food and drink too.
At the door to her cell, Bavo gently untied her hands. "Thank you," Grace said, meeting his soft yellow eyes, specks of emerald green shining in his irises.
Bavo said nothing, turning away as Felsa opened the door. "Get in," Felsa commanded, prodding her with the barrel of his rifle, "if you're quiet, we'll bring you something to eat." He poked her with his rifle again. "Don't worry about the smell, you won't be here long."
Grace stumbled into the cramped cell, her nose scrunching against the mildewed, rotten scent in the air. "You can't leave me in here," Grace said, whirling around, "it's too cold." She stepped forward, back to where Bavo and Felsa stood outside the door. She pointed to the corner. "There's rotten things in here, and its wet. I can't..."
Felsa cut her off, his face twisted with the joy of superiority. "You can and you will," he told her, "Might as well get used to it." Before Grace could protest again, Felsa slammed the door shut. He turned to Bavo, still smiling. "We're going to be rich," he said, "I'm going to retire to the coast when this is over." He scratched his rough blue chin. "Maybe Spain. Taiwan. Someplace warm."
Romance: Alien Romance: Simply Aliens: A Ten Book Alien Romance Collection (Paranormal Scifi Interracial Romance) (Fantasy New Adult Alpha Short Stories) Page 9