How Not to Date an Alien

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How Not to Date an Alien Page 3

by Stephanie Burke


  “Ohh! Your muscles clench,” he muttered as the vibrating of his fingers grew faster.

  The orgasm would not end! Her inner walls were clenching like mad around his fingers, her clit felt like it was on fire, and the waves of release were flowing so rapidly she thought she would never be able to move again.

  Her entire being was pleasure and ecstasy, and hot, kinky, orgasmic sex that appeared to have no end.

  “Pl — ple — please,” she whimpered, her eyes closing as the world began to grow dark.

  Then he was pulling out, the vibrating slowing as he began to pet her labia and the strained and swollen muscles between her thighs. Even her asshole was clenching, so hard was her orgasm… or was it orgasms? She couldn’t tell.

  All she knew was that she was slamming herself down on his retreating fingers and making sounds like a hurt animal as his hair caressed her one last time before lowering her back to the bed.

  “That was beautiful,” he breathed, leaning over her once more to examine her eyes, heavy-lidded and damn near closed. “You are beautiful. And I can’t wait to consume you.”

  Her afterglow receded abruptly. Reality slammed her in the face as she recalled her reason for being in this position in the first place.

  “Damn — you,” she panted, her heart still racing as the lassitude of the aftermath of great orgasms pulled her toward slumber. “You — had to… remind me.”

  But he was cuddling her close, and the world faded away as she gave in to the siren pull of sleep that called to her.

  Cocooned, utterly replete and slightly afraid, she found herself falling asleep in the arms of the alien who wanted to kill her.

  Chapter Five

  Care and feeding of your alien is important. If not properly introduced to nutrition appropriate for his species or sub species, the results could be disastrous.

  |||

  Kilana could not stop smiling.

  And it wasn’t like she didn’t try. She thought of all the bad things that had happened to her, thought of the horrible strife and suffering in the world, she thought about her ex and the three women he’d cheated on her with, and she still could not get the stupid grin off her face.

  No one else on this mud ball of a planet had been gifted with an orgasm like hers.

  That fact alone would have had anybody smiling, but add to it the fact that the orgasms kept coming for a good five minutes — well, that was worth outright laughter.

  “Happiness,” Valan declared after giving her face a small lick. “Yes, your flavor is enhancing.”

  Okay, that was enough to take the megawatt smile down a few degrees.

  “Flavor,” she sighed. “Right.”

  “You are cooperating nicely,” Valan added, shaking his head no, which she remembered meant yes. “I wonder if all humans behave in such a way?”

  “You mean you don’t know?” She paused, turning to look at the alien floating above her, his hair working itself back into a braid all on its own.

  “No one really hunts humans,” he explained, stretching out his whole body with a shudder, spreading his fingers and toes like a cat.

  “Why?” She felt a small bit of indignation for her race’s standing in the universal scheme of things. “We aren’t good enough or something?”

  “On a whole —” Valan flipped over and rested on his back beside her, an odd warmth radiating from his skin. It was almost like a moist heating pad. “— humans are considered the Great Creator’s moment of unabashed amusement.”

  “Cosmic joke?” she asked, lifting her head up and shooting him an indignant glare.

  “That is one way of putting it.” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed it for a moment. “Your kind really is rather amusing.”

  “Amusing?” She sulked. “Look, buddy, you’re the one here hunting us! What would that make you?”

  “Crazy in some circles,” he told her honestly. “But in others, it makes me adventurous with a taste for the exotic.”

  “Exotic, right.”

  “Truly, humans are exotic.” He smiled again, licking at his lips with that forked tongue. “You have a large brain but only have the ability to use a small portion of it.

  You decry those who do things to harm your planet, yet you do more harm in your attempts to protect it. And the arrogance humans display! This planet existed long before your people were developed, and yet you worry that small, insignificant beings such as yourself will bring it to destruction. And what you do personally to yourselves…”

  “Insignificant!”

  “Quite.” He rose up on one elbow and turned toward her. “And arrogant. But I was speaking of what you do to yourselves personally. High fructose corn syrup.” He rolled his eyes. “Monosodium glutamate, red dye number seven? Why all of that when you could just eat fresh fruits and vegetables? You even poison your meat beasts in an attempt to get more. Why does everything here have to be larger than the rest?”

  “I — Uh —” He had her there. “That has nothing to do with you wanting to eat me!”

  “It has a lot to do with me wanting to eat you.” He leaned over and sniffed at her neck. “All of these elements affect your taste.”

  “So I guess you won’t be eating me, then,” she concluded, leaning back in the bed. “I am too chemically preserved to be tasty.”

  His “No,” popped her bubble quickly.

  “N-no-o?”

  “I purged your system of the fermented fruit juices you consumed yesterday. I have also purged most of the harmful chemicals from your body.”

  “Purged?”

  “Indeed.” He licked his lips as he ran appreciative eyes over her body. “Now I have to feed you the proper foods to enhance your already pleasant natural taste, and then it is time to feast.”

  “But — but — I don’t have any fresh food and veggies in the apartment,” she pointed out weakly. “I’ve barely unpacked!”

  “Then we will have to adjourn to the outside to find proper nourishment.”

  “And what makes you think I won’t run the hell away from you the moment I get a chance?”

  “Because of your friends.” He gifted her with a huge smile. “I have their scent, and I can easily hunt down each and every female in their blood line and satisfy my urges with them instead.”

  “But — but Lena has a young child!” Kilana’s eyes went wide.

  “I can keep her caged until she grows to the appropriate size and age.”

  “Cage Tuesday? That would take years,” Kil whimpered, a tear coming to her eyes at the thought of Lena’s daughter caged like a veal calf and then fattened up until some alien epicurean would deem her worthy of his dinner table.

  “I have time.” He rose to his feet.

  “O — okay,” she stuttered. “I won’t run.”

  “As if I would let you,” he chuckled. Turning toward her closet, he meandered over and started to dig. “And because you are granting me such a boon —”

  “Granting?” She choked on the word.

  “I will dress in an appropriate human manner.”

  “So no one will notice,” she decided.

  “Every hunter has to have the proper camouflage,” he pointed out while riffling through her clothing. “It is a wonderful thing that I can fit into some of your garments.”

  And Kilana watched, pouting, as the alien selected a pair of slim black jeans and slid them up his long, muscular legs.

  They made his ass look spectacular. The tight Das Boot t-shirt he slid on next enhanced the muscular planes of his chest and the broadness of his shoulders. He looked like a damn gothic model.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “You know you’re going commando underneath that, right?”

  “Commando? Soldier with violent tendencies and the ability to explode large flying war machines completely alone?”

  “Sans underwear.” She was beginning to grow amused despite her current situation. “Did you learn English by watching old movies?”

&n
bsp; “Yes. And do you mean I have to wear clothing under these tight garments?

  Why so many layers?”

  He tilted his head to the side and stared at her like he was a cute little puppy dog with antennas.

  “We just do,” she informed him. “Women secrete…”

  “Lots of fluids.” He grinned again, and she was beginning to recognize that trait as a way he showed his arousal.

  “Yeah, and if we don’t want to slide around all day in them, we wear a barrier.”

  “And your men?”

  “They don’t like their shit to bounce, I guess. At least, that’s what the ex said.”

  “The male who was previously in your bed?”

  “Like a year ago, but yeah.”

  “His shit bounced?” He had a vaguely disgusted, disbelieving look on his face.

  “No, I mean his penis and testes.” She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you pick up any slang when you were studying us? Geez.”

  “I picked up some, but your usage of slang words that do not fit with the acceptable definition is puzzling and strange.”

  “Well,” she allowed, “that is true.” But then she quickly changed the subject again. “Does this mean you’re going to let me go now?”

  “No, but I will release you from your bindings.”

  “Good.”

  “Right after I wash you. You do secrete copious fluids, and as pleasant as they feel against your sensitive and soft flesh, it seems that it would be uncomfortable for you if they dried like that.” He was leering at the meeting of her still wide-spread legs and licking his lips.

  Her eyes goggled wide as she stared at him. He was seriously going to wash her?

  Really? It proved to be true as he made his way into her en suite bathroom. She heard water running. Valan returned shortly with a steaming washcloth and climbed between her sprawled legs.

  “This is interesting,” he pointed out as he pressed the warm cloth against her still sensitive skin. “Your flesh seems to react to heat.”

  He leaned in to get a closer look, and Kilana was caught between closing her legs in embarrassment and spreading them further. The heat trailing up her spine at his merest touch was delicious. She felt debauched and exposed and was really not minding it all that much. With gentle fingers, he spread apart her labia and peered in closely to examine her clitoris.

  “So tiny, yet capable of making you create the most amazing sounds and making your body dance at my finger tips. Observe,” he added, looking up at her as if she was going to watch this new pleasure assault.

  Well, of course she was going to watch, she reasoned as he gently stroked one finger over the cowl of her clitoris. She just needed to ensure that he didn’t do anything harmful. And then she ignored the mental snort that her inner woman gave. The alien

  looked hot, and her body was still hungry. She knew at this point any excuses that she made about giving in to this were just that — excuses. The alien had obviously studied up on human anatomy and deep inside, her inner kink-ball voyeur wanted to watch.

  So she stared at the pale, lithe male between her legs, watched his eyes glowing again as he pawed at her most intimate parts.

  “You become so wet for me,” he mused, his fingers tracing the swollen lips of her labia. “Fascinating.”

  The cloth was tossed aside as she felt herself moisten and swell. “I assume an acceptable recovery period has elapsed?” he arched one eyebrow and waited for her answer.

  “I — I guess…”

  “Good.” His grin threatened to split his face as he began to pet her in earnest. “I don’t want you uncomfortable. That affects your flavor.”

  Then, before she could comment, he was stroking her, gripping the cowl of her clit between two fingers and pumping it like he was jacking her dick.

  “It is almost like a small penis,” he pointed out, moving faster as her hips came up off the bed and her loud gasps filled the room. “Does this not feel pleasurable?”

  Kilana could only stare wide-eyed as the sensations running through her caused her to throw her hips up, to get more of the fire that was beginning to burn brightly once more.

  “I like this reaction,” he mused, his voice almost a whimper as he leaned over her, as his hair wrapped around her thighs and lifted. “It is very stimulating to my senses.”

  Kilana was gasping and moaning now, her eyes fluttering like a virgin in a bodice ripper. Her hands were fisted in her bindings, and her breath came in harsh pants.

  Did he expect her to answer? How could she when the growing feelings were stealing her ability to think?

  She forced her eyes open to stare up at him as he loomed over her. His eyes were fierce, his breath becoming labored, that amazing forked tongue lapping at his lips.

  Her eyes traveled lazily down his body, noting that his cock was still flaccid and resting against his thigh, but he seemed to be really involved in what was going on.

  Before she could comment, though, his fingers slipped lower and a vibrating thumb traced her slick opening before nudging in, just a little.

  Her breath fled her body as her head slammed back into the pillows. She arched up, her breasts bobbing, her nipples swelling and protruding once more. And he was moving with her, playing her body again to perfection. For every twist and turn, he had a move that kept his vibrating finger not exactly on her clit, but close enough to it to drive her insane with want.

  And then his hair was rubbing at her thighs, enfolding her breasts and tugging at her nipples. He leaned over her, licking at her neck with that forked tongue and filling her senses with his vanilla lemon musk.

  It was so fucking hot! She could hardly breathe.

  “Valan,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes as she bucked uncontrollably against his hands. “More!”

  “Not ready yet,” he muttered, pulling back a little, flinging his hair back over his shoulders to stare into her eyes.

  And naturally her eyes traveled down to his cock, still flaccid despite all of the sex action that was taking place.

  Did he not find her at least a little attractive, a small voice in the back of her mind whined. Was she too… too alien?

  Then he chuckled, as if reading her thoughts. “It will remain flaccid until I have need of it,” he informed her, reaching up to free one of her hands. “That is the way of my people.”

  Then he placed her hand on the softest flesh that she had ever felt. It was softer than cotton, softer than silk, so soft it seemed unreal. Her eyes widened as her fist clenched around him, and she felt the firm yet soft give of his added features.

  “When I take you,” he informed her, his fingers still teasing at the mouth of her pussy, “I will use all that I am to wring every drop of pleasure from your body.”

  And then he shifted forward, pressing his uniquely featured dick against her clit, and thrust once.

  “Co — comi — Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh oh oh!” Kilana began to lose it. The feelings welling up from where he throbbed and pressed and vibrated against her were too much.

  Her mind was spinning. She was screaming, and her muscles were locked, and all she could do was ride out wave after wave of the ecstasy he visited upon her with his hands and his voice and his hair and his cock.

  “Perfect,” he said as she sort of melted back into the sheets, exhausted and quivering, still quaking as small shafts of fire shot through her. “We are almost there.”

  He disappeared again but returned with another warm cloth, this time just cleaning her up as her body began to return to something resembling normalcy.

  “Wow,” she breathed as he finally removed the cloth.

  “Yes, you get closer and closer to proper preparation and the time of your devouring.”

  “Way to kill the buzz,” she muttered, but only shrugged and smiled as he folded the cloth inside out and began to sponge off her chest.

  “I wonder if your other sexual organs can be stimulated by heat.”

  Her nipples pebbled,
her stomach tightened, and Kilana realized that it would be some time before she got to eat.

  Chapter Six

  When it comes to human technology, your alien life form probably already knows everything. Any species that can conquer space/time travel will surely understand a combustion engine.

  |||

  Fifteen restaurants.

  They drove by fifteen restaurants before Valan found one that he deemed proper enough for her.

  But before that, it was the matter of who was driving the car.

  “I can pilot a craft capable of deep space travel,” he had moaned. “Yet I find it difficult to operate a manual transmission on a car.”

  Kilana tried not to laugh as her alien pouted and read through the manual.

  “It’s all about stick control.” She couldn’t help but put it out there.

  He glared in return.

  “Look, it’s simple,” she tried to explain. “If you want to go from zero to ten, first gear.” She pointed to the appropriate number next to her gear stick. “Twenty or more, shift to two. Thirty or more, three. Get it?”

  He frowned at her. “The theory, yes. Practical application is another thing.”

  “Need more experience?” She couldn’t help but laugh. Take that, she thought. For an insignificant and confused race, we got your ass beat on this one.

  “I pilot a ship with an antimatter rocket that can alter and control time dilation, equipped with a light sail particle accelerator that can function without being dependent on any outside fuels because of its use of the prevailing plasma winds found

  in the solar system. Allow me a few moments to familiarize myself with this primitive, environmentally dangerous engine, and then we shall depart.”

  She almost choked on her guffaws as he stuck his nose into the manual again with a sniff and began muttering at what he was reading.

  But her laughter was short-lived as he gave a pleased sound and placed the manual back in the glove box.

  “I do believe it is time for you to exchange the refined fossil fuels used to lubricate the moving parts of your engine for fresh.”

  “Been meaning to get an oil change,” she muttered, wiping her eyes of the tears that had fallen with her laughing jag.

 

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