Mated to a Monster

by Diana Sheridan

  In short order seven more of the species came lumbering out of the woods, and three emerged from huts in the village. They all gathered around Evan and stared at him with unbridled curiosity. Evan thought he picked up mental transmissions that he read as, “What is it?”

  Suddenly Moob came crashing out of the underbrush, pushed his way through the crowd, and positioned himself spread-legged and defiantly postured in front of Evan, his arms stretched out at his sides as if to ward off the others of his tribe. Clearly in his mind Evan picked up a message. Although it wasn’t expressed in words, the intent was clear: “Mine. He’s mine. Leave him alone.”

  When the crowd didn’t immediately back off, Moob made shooing motions at them, then assumed a crouched stance and growled. He reached out, grabbed one of his fellow tribe members by the shoulder, and shoved him heartily away. With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, although they looked over their shoulders as they shuffled toward their huts or toward the woods. Evan sat up, wondering what the rest of the tribe might have done with him if Moob had not intervened.

  Again Moob broadcast to Evan, not in words but in concept, “You wait. I’ll be back.” Then he took off for the woods again. As he made his way away from Evan, Evan noticed for the first time the tautness of Moob’s buttocks and the way the strong muscles of his thighs rippled as he walked. Moob’s butt-cheeks were less hairy than the rest of his body, and his skin was taut under the downy peach fuzz. His skin color, like that of his fellow tribesmen, was taupe.

  Evan didn’t have long to wait for Moob’s return. In no time he was back, this time with a small deer slung over his shoulder. Moob dumped the deer on the ground near the fire pit and once again went into the hut, emerging momentarily with a crude container. Dipping his hand into this vessel he pulled out a clamshell that had been sharpened into a veritable blade, and using this tool Moob proceeded to skin and disembowel the deer and cut the edible portions into large chunks.

  Moob pulled another tool out of the container, and Evan wondered what it was. It looked something like a flint, which is exactly what it proved to be. There was already some half-burned wood in the fire pit, and Moob struck the flint with a different clamshell, not the cutting tool, creating a spark, which lit up a small piece of very dry wood he was grasping. Holding that now-burning wood to the other wood in the fire pit, Moob created a blaze, then damped it down to a slow burn.

  There was a rudimentary spit over the fire pit, a sturdy piece of wood, one end of which had been sharpened to a point, suspended by two upright pieces of wood with v-shaped forks in them for the spit’s two ends to rest in. Moob threaded several chunks of venison onto the spit, poking the pointed end of the spit through the meat, and spaced them out at intervals along the wood, then rested the spit into its two v-shaped holders.

  As the heat reached the meat, juices began to drip onto the fire, and the smell of cooking deer flesh began to fill the area. From time to time Moob turned the spit, allowing all sides of the meat to get cooked.

  Partway through the cooking process, Moob looked at Evan and again broadcast the thought, “You stay. I go. I will be back.” This time he added another thought, though. “You tend to the meat.”

  Once again Moob plodded into the jungle, returning after a bit with his arms laden with avocados, bananas, and a pineapple. This time the message Evan got telepathically was, “You help.”

  Evan returned the message, “How?”

  Moob returned to the hut, came back out with a half a coconut shell filled with water, and lowered himself heavily to the ground. He swirled in the water the clam shell he’d used to cut the deer up, then proffered it to Evan. From the container he extracted another, similar clamshell. Then he pushed the avocados toward Evan, along with a very large leaf of some kind. Evan received the message that the leaf was to serve as a platter.

  Fumbling awkwardly with the unfamiliar tool, Evan tried to cut through the skin of one avocado. After a few false starts he finally got the hang of it. Deciding that bite-size pieces were the way to go, he removed the pit and cut the flesh into chunks, placing these on the leaf “platter.” Then he reached for the next avocado and repeated the process.

  While Evan worked his way through the avocados, Moob went to work on the pineapple, a more challenging proposition. Evan was glad Moob had kept the pineapple-cutting chore for himself and had tasked Evan with the avocados instead.

  Now Moob sent Evan a question. A picture of clams invaded Evan’s mind in a questioning tone. Evan sent back a mental image of himself happily gobbling clams followed by an image of himself consuming deer meat and fruits till he was full. The concept he was trying to get across was, “Yes, I like clams, but we have more than enough food here.”

  Moob smiled in acknowledgment and returned to his labors with the pineapple. Evan got up and turned the spit over, then resumed his place on the ground to cut the rest of the avocados.

  Apparently it was not the tribe’s custom to eat a whole meal, as such, for as soon as the fruit was ready, Moob reached for a chunk of pineapple with one hand and a chunk of avocado with the other hand, even though Evan could see that the venison was not yet ready for consumption. Following Moob’s lead, Evan picked up the smallest banana, peeled it, ate it slowly, and then reached for two chunks of avocado. Although pineapple was not one of his best-liked fruits, he ate a bit of that too in an effort to be mannerly and not decline or disrespect his host’s offering.

  Evan ate till he was almost full but saved some room for the venison. Moob tried to thrust more fruit toward Evan, but Evan put his two hands on his belly, moved the hands outward to pantomime a swollen stomach, then pointed to the venison, still roasting on the spit, and licked his lips.

  Moob knitted his eyebrows, then raised one of them quizzically, then made a motion of sweeping more fruit toward Evan.

  Evan shook his head, again pantomimed “full belly,” and coupled the gesture with a mental message of satiety. He held his left hand out, flattened, with the palm up, and placed his right hand, flattened, palm down, a very short distance above the left hand, hoping Moob could understand “small” or “little.” Then he pointed again to his stomach.

  Moob made a sad face and reached for more avocado. Clearly his appetite was as outsized as his overall hulk, and he was disappointed that Evan didn’t match him.

  As Moob picked up the last piece of pineapple, he studied Evan carefully, his eyes travelling up and down Evan’s entirety from scalp to shoes. Moob frowned, although Evan surmised that it was a frown of puzzlement rather than displeasure. Then Moob got up and stood next to Evan, tugging at him till Evan got the message that Moob wanted him standing up. Baffled, he complied.

  Now Moob started pulling at Evan’s clothing. Apparently the entire concept of clothing was a new thought to the friendly monster, and he was nonplussed by it. He seemed to have no grasp at all of what buttons or zippers were or how they worked. As he tugged at Evan’s button-front, short-sleeved shirt, the buttons strained.

  Evan reached to stop him. Moob tried to overpower him. Evan managed to unbutton one button, hoping Moob would see that some unfastening was necessary before the shirt could be removed. Moob paused in his tugging, and Evan quickly unbuttoned the remainder of the buttons, then slipped the shirt off. Moob licked Evan’s bare chest, his rough, bumpy tongue sending unexpected sparkles through Evan’s body.

  Now Moob tugged at Evan’s pants with even greater urgency and eagerness. Once again Evan stopped him, showing him how to unhook the top hook and slide down the zipper. Stepping out of his pants, he was left with only his tighty-whities, and these he quickly shimmied out of as well, leaving himself totally naked but for his shoes and socks.

  Moob’s eyes were on Evan’s dick and balls, and his interest was apparent. Holding up his own bulbous-tipped dick, he sidled next to Evan and picked up Evan’s dick unabashedly with his other hand. He looked at the two as if conducting a very careful comparison study. Evan, rather than being offended, was amused. But
what Moob did next was even more of a surprise.

  Holding on to both dicks, one in each hand, he slowly began sliding his hands back and forth, stimulating both Evan and himself with his masturbatory motions. Evan felt his dick begin to swell and noticed that Moob’s dick, too, was gradually engorging. He wondered if he should do something for Moob in return, but it seemed that Moob had all the bases covered. Maybe reciprocity was not part of Moob’s tribe’s culture.

  Clearly privacy wasn’t. They were still outdoors by the fire pit, and although there were no others of Moob’s tribe out there with them, Evan knew that at any moment one of them might show up.

  It happened even sooner than Evan expected. As Moob’s hand-motions grew stronger, steadier, and faster, the monster’s excitement grew, and soon he began grunting and moaning. At that, two of his tribesmen emerged from one hut and two others from another. They seemed to be two couples, and Evan took note that one of the couples seemed to be male/female while the other was composed, like their own coupling, of two males.

  Now the four approached quite close, observing Moob jacking his own dick and Evan’s, and they began to engage in similar activity. The female of the one couple stroked herself while jacking her apparent mate, while one of the males in the other couple mimicked Moob’s actions exactly, jacking both himself and his partner.

  Moob was getting highly excited, thrusting his pelvis back and forth, punching the air with his body in wild motions while thrusting his dick in and out of his hand’s grasp. Evan, although a bit abashed to be jerked off in front of an audience, found it exciting to watch the two couples while furry monster Moob manhandled his meat.

  When Moob climaxed, he uttered a howl that was eardrum-piercing. The two monsters who weren’t using their hands for sex beat on their thighs with open palms, creating a drumbeat that Evan surmised was tantamount to applause. As Moob’s creamy stuff spurted into the air, he caught it with his hand and then turned to face Evan and began to draw primitive symbols on Evan’s belly and chest with his thick semen.

  Moob’s semen was indeed a different consistency than Evan’s, or what Evan was used to from his human partners. There was also much more of it. Thick and glistening, it gleamed wetly as Moob created intricate patterns on Evan’s chest. Feeling it on his skin was just the push Evan needed to send him to the brink of climax. His balls tightened, his head swam and buzzed, and heat suffused his body. Then he spurted his stuff in the air.

  The four other tribal members once again beat their thighs with flat palms, apparently applauding Evan’s orgasm.

  Moob wore a disappointed look, and Evan wondered if the disappointment sprang from the small quantity of Evan’s cum or from the fact that he had not decorated Moob’s chest with it as Moob had done to him. Bending down, he scraped what he could of his jizz off the ground and spelled out EVAN + MOOB in small letters, since there was so little jizz to work with, on Moob’s chest. Then Moob put his arms around Evan, pulling him tight to him, and rubbed his chest and belly vigorously against Evan’s chest and belly, spreading and commingling the semen of the two of them.

  At last satisfied that the ritual of their encounter was completed, Moob returned his attention to the venison, turning the spit once more. Evan could see that the deer meat was nearly cooked now. The area was redolent with the smell of the seared flesh.

  Weak-legged from his orgasm, Evan sank to the ground, wondering what was to happen next. The two other couples finished their own ministrations to themselves and their mates nearly simultaneously, to a chorus of thigh-slap drumbeats all around, except for Evan, who applauded in the manner to which he was accustomed, clapping his hands in ovation.

  Evan was sure Moob was sending him another message then: “We will do more later.”

  Evan sent back a mental picture of the two of them coupling inside the hut. He suspected Moob had more than a hand job in mind for later, and Evan didn’t particularly want an audience for that.

  Chapter Three

  The sun was at a point in the sky that told Evan it must be around three o’clock. Consulting his watch, which he was grateful was waterproof and had survived the swim, he saw that his estimate of time was not far off. The watch read 2:47. They had finished most of the venison, and Evan’s stomach was filled to capacity.

  Moob telepathically made Evan understand that he was leaving the village for a little while and that Evan might want to walk around and become familiar with the island while he was gone. Evan had a different plan in mind for his free time, however. He needed to spell out his distress call on the shore in the form of the SOS he was planning to create with large rocks and shells.

  Moob looked at Evan, who was now completely naked, having shucked off the last of his apparel, his shoes and socks. The monster’s eyes raked up and down Evan’s body, and a grin broadened his mouth. His white teeth flashed between his pink lips, offset by the taupe of his skin. Approaching Evan, he licked Evan’s cheeks and the tip of his nose. Evan surmised this was the equivalent of a goodbye kiss and returned the gesture in kind, licking Moob’s cheeks and nosetip. But he followed that up with the gesture that he was accustomed to: a kiss. He first kissed Moob’s left cheek, then his right one, then his lips.

  “That was a kiss,” Evan said aloud. “Kiss. Now you say it: Kiss.”

  But Moob didn’t seem to understand what was wanted of him and simply licked Evan’s chin extravagantly.

  Oh well…. Evan thought. He watched Moob plod out of sight and noticed he was carrying two items. One was a large bag woven out of palm fronds. The other was a big, heavy rock.

  As soon as Moob was out of sight, Evan retraced his way back to the shoreline, guided as much by his nose and the smell of salt water as he was by his memory of the path Moob had taken when carrying Evan from the beach to the village.

  There was an abundance of rocks large enough for Evan’s purposes, and some clamshells larger than any Evan had ever seen. Painstakingly carrying the rocks and shells to the high-water mark, Evan spelled out “SOS” in giant letters, one rock or shell at a time. He was almost finished with his task when Moob appeared through the palm trees. His face lit up when he saw Evan.

  Evan felt a smile spread across his own face. He realized with surprise that he was genuinely glad to see his new companion. Moob strode over and greeted Evan with licks on both cheeks and his nose. Evan, repeating what he had done earlier, licked Moob in return but followed it up with a kiss on each cheek and on his lips. As his hands grasped Moob’s furry shoulders and his mouth latched on to Moob’s firm lips, he found himself deep-kissing the monster, his tongue intruding inside Moob’s mouth and searching around inside. His dick hardened quickly, and Moob, feeling it stiffening against him and prodding him, pushed his body up against Evan’s and ground his pelvis demandingly against Evan’s body.

  The disparity in their heights kept their dicks from matching up against each other perfectly, but Moob bent his knees a bit, and that brought their pelvises more into alignment with each other.

  Evan wondered if Moob planned another jerk-off session and, if so, whether he should be the one to stroke both their dicks this time. He had no way of knowing what the tribe’s customs were. But Moob backed off, pointed to the bag he was holding, and then to the sandy beach.

  From the way the bag hung as Moob held it, it obviously wasn’t empty. Hoping he wasn’t violating either some tribal protocol or Moob’s privacy, Evan pulled the bag open and peered inside. There he found six large dead birds of two different species, which Evan could not identify, and the rock that Moob had been carrying when he left the village. Four of the birds had visible wounds to their heads, and Evan surmised that Moob had killed them by throwing the rock at them. He further surmised that the birds were for him and Moob to eat the next time they got hungry.

  Moob motioned Evan to follow him, then walked to the shoreline and crouched down. As Evan watched, the hairy monster scrabbled in the sand with both hands. Emitting a grunt whose meaning Evan could not d
iscern, Moob pulled out a huge clam and dumped it into the bag along with the birds. Then, swiveling around till he was crouched in front of some undisturbed sand, he resumed digging.

  Now that Evan saw what Moob was doing, he joined in, crouching down just upshore from the water’s edge and scrabbling in the sand as he dug a hole. Moob shook his head no and directed Evan to another spot. Evan didn’t know how Moob knew where the clams were, but sure enough his fingers soon encountered a hard shell, and shortly thereafter he dug out and brought up from its sandy hidey-hole another of the oversized clams.

  They dug for clams together in companionable silence, Moob directing Evan in where to dig. Each buried clam that they brought to the surface was deposited in the palm frond bag. Occasionally the two would look up from their labors and smile at each other, and a peaceful feeling flooded Evan. Not only did it spread out through his soul, it invaded his mind, till he realized that Moob was transmitting to Evan the knowledge that he, too, was experiencing a vast and wonderful feeling of peacefulness and contentment.

  Standing up from his clam-digging efforts, Evan impulsively took five steps to where Moob was crouching, bent down, and embraced him. His arms wound around the furry body, his hands stroked the muscular, hair-covered back, and he buried his face in Moob’s hugely hairy neck. Moob tried to echo the gesture, although he was a clumsy hugger. “Hug,” Evan said, trying to teach Moob the word. “Hug,” he repeated. “Now you say it. Hug.” He pointed to Moob.

  But Moob didn’t understand and remained silent. He pointed his own index finger and stroked Evan’s pointing finger with it, in a gesture whose meaning was lost on Evan. Then the hairy creature smiled again and returned to his digging, stopping only to point out another good spot for Evan to dig in.