by Meg Ripley
Amy pushed Luke aside so that he lay with his throbbing manhood exposed to her, and lifted herself up onto his chest. He gazed up, wide-eyed, unsure of himself or what to do next. Slowly, Amy inched his massive cock deep inside her, the waves of lust pounding like ocean waves on a shore. As he filled her completely, stretching her inner walls to their fullest extent, she smiled and leaned down to kiss him once more.
Luke’s large hands gripped her sides nervously as she began to rock slowly back and forth atop her gorgeous lover. A moan escaped her lips, the feeling of all of him inside her, pushing her to the brink of ecstasy. She longed to go faster, deeper, and harder but held back. He watched, licking his lips, as her hips swayed to and from, pushing his cock deep inside, then pulling back to tease him. Soon the fearfulness has faded, leaving behind only sheer desire. He growled upward at her grinning face and tossed her onto the bed roughly, causing Amy to let out a moan of pleasure and surprise.
“You feel incredible,” he gritted his teeth, the passion consuming him,” I want more of you Amy; all of you. Now.”
She conceded, allowing Luke to take over and mount her quivering body. With a little guidance, he was deep inside her once more. Amy gasped. His thrusts were deep, filled with need, and hard as he grunted hungrily. Amy grasped the pillow above her head; the sensation was like nothing she had ever felt, not in her wildest of fantasies. He progressively thrusted deeper and harder, the springs of her old bed clinching under the weight of their lust.
“Oh, Amy—tell me,” he panted, “Tell me you’re mine; tell me to make you cum.”
“Make me cum, Luke!” she cried out loudly, the pressure almost too much to bear. She needed to release; to cum on his hard, pulsing shaft.
“Yes!” he cried out and pumped even deeper, rubbing the thick pad of his thumb against her clit, sending shock waves of utter bliss through her body.
Their bodies exploded with pleasure together, the world spinning in a moment of euphoric bliss. Luke collapsed onto her heaving chest and lay still, shaking from the heated moment. Amy reached up and ran her fingers through his soft hair, calming his breathing, and gave a long sigh of relief. Finally, the torture of the past few days, feeling the drive to be near him flooding in like waves, was followed by pure, heavenly peace. As the night went onward, they lay, wrapped in deep embrace, caressing and soothing the years of toil from one another’s bodies. She gazed into his deep green eyes with a look of compassion, thinking of his life and how she longed to make sure the rest of his years were spent in happiness with her on the farm. But laying below the surface of joy, Amy’s heart was slowly sinking, knowing that Luke would soon fix his ship and return home with news to his surviving people of the new land. How long would he be away from her? Would he ever return? She looked down at the bed, her thoughts trailing off to an image of her waiting her entire life with no sign of his ship on the horizon.
He lifted her chin, so that her gaze met his once more. “I know what you’re thinking Amy,” he sighed. “You’re afraid I’m not coming back to you.”
She nodded silently, tears welling up in her eyes as she finally heard the words in her head spoken aloud. Until this moment of post bliss connection, she hadn’t thought of his departure much. It was inevitable; he would have to leave. He kissed her lips, long and loving, and gave a saddened smile.
“I promise you,” he whispered, “I will return to you soon. I have to tell my people that there’s another planet that can sustain us. It’s my duty—it’s bigger than me. You understand, right?”
“Yes, I do,” she sobbed through the kisses. “I’m just afraid of losing you. I’ve gone my whole life waiting for you, Luke, and now I have to say goodbye.”
He pulled her close to his chest, squeezing her naked body tightly in his arms and caressed her long hair. Amy thought she heard a sniffle escape him as he too shed a tear. She closed her eyes tightly and savored his embrace.
“This is not goodbye,” he chuckled despite his sadness, “it’s more like ‘See ya’ll later.’ ”
“You’re getting better at our slang now,” Amy joked, trying to lighten the damp mood.
“Why yes, I reckon I am,” he teased, and they shared a long laugh in each other’s arms.
****
Soon after that night, Luke had discovered that his ship could be fueled by organic matter, specifically the byproducts of fruits and vegetables grown on Amy’s farm, which meant he could now return home to save his people. After several days had come and gone, Luke’s ship was finally ready for departure, and the feeling of dread began to overtake her.
Amy barely touched her meal that night, picking at the plate full of juicy ham and sweet potatoes. She gazed into her lover’s deep emerald eyes, knowing that he would soon be gone, trying her best to hold onto the hope that he would someday return to her arms once again.
Amy shoved her plate aside, tears welling up in her eyes. Pushing his chair back, Luke reached out for her, coddling her in his giant arms. She sobbed in his t-shirt, wanting nothing more than to have him forever by her side. Luke held her so tightly, she thought she would lose her breath—and he, too, shed a tear.
He nudged her back, planting a deep, wet kiss on her lips, locked in a lover’s embrace that could only be experienced with true love. He gave her an eager smile and released his arms once more.
Luke cracked a sheepish smile, “I forgot… I have something for you. Why don’t you come out to the field and see me off?”
He took Amy’s hand and led her outside to the ship, past the cattle languidly grazing in field. She knew it was selfish, but she longed to convince him to stay; to find another way to signal his people that didn’t involve that tedious journey. What if he was hurt—or worse, killed—upon his return trip? Despite her true feelings, she knew in her heart that she had to let him go. An entire race of people sat anxiously awaiting his return, their very lives hanging in the balance.
Once they reached the ship, he squeezed her hand, “I’ll be back in just a moment.” He pressed a shimmering green button, opening the door with a long hiss. He returned a minute later, holding something tightly in his hand. Facing her, Luke opened his hand; Amy glanced down to look, tears quietly streaming down her cheeks. In his palm was ring, his large hands dwarfing its size. She leaned in closer and gasped in amazement to find the most beautiful gem set inside. It was light blue with little white tufts moving through it, almost like a summer sky adorned by wispy white clouds. Amy had never seen anything like it and marveled at its beauty.
“It was my mother’s,” he spoke softly, lifting her ring finger with his free hand. “On my planet, it’s a tradition for the male to go out in search of almerade, which means ‘sky rock’ in your language, to give to his one true love when he finds her. It’s a promise of forever, as long as the skies above still stand.”
She gazed at the ring, then back to Luke’s loving smile. Was he proposing? Slowly, Luke slid the ring onto her finger and Amy felt as if the ground beneath her had caved in, her heart ready to explode. The world spun in a mixture of happiness and impending sadness, knowing that she must part ways with her love, if only for a short time. He leaned in for a final kiss, the emotions stirring in both of them, then backed away towards the door of the ship.
“I must go now, my love.” His emerald eyes remained locked with hers as he stepped aboard, the humming of his engine filling the space around her. At the door, he paused for one last loving gaze. “See ya later.” He smiled the warmest smile he could muster.
“See ya later,” she replied; the look of sadness was clear on both of their faces.
Amy watched until the ship was clear out of sight, gazing longingly at the now empty space between two stars. Half-heartedly, she trudged back to the house. Shiloh lifted her head from her place near the fireplace as Amy entered and slumped down into the chair. She felt so empty; the eerie sound of a silence house bothering her like it never had before. With a sigh, she headed towards the staircase, glancing longingly at the ring upon
her finger. Just as she reached the first step, the sound of static filtered through the air around her, like a CB radio had switched on somewhere near the mantle.
“Come in, Cowgirl,” the voice was familiar, “This is Space Man… can you hear me?”
She walked cautiously back into the living room and glanced around; nothing seemed to be disturbed. Shiloh lifted her head once more as the voice echoed again.
“Amy, can you hear me?” It was Luke, but coming from where, she didn’t know. “Shiloh, Girl, go show Amy your collar!”
There upon Shiloh’s collar dangled a shiny bauble; to the untrained eye, it would appear to be nothing more than a fancy silver trinket. She unhitched it from the collar, examining it in greater detail. A tiny, emerald green button popped up on the back that Amy hesitantly pressed.
“Luke, is that you?” She lifted her finger to listen.
“Yes, it is,” he laughed, “Surprise! Now you can communicate with me until I reach the outer limits of my home galaxy. I thought this might help us both, you know, in case you might miss me or something.”
Amy rolled her eyes and pressed the button once more, “Miss you? Now why in the world would I do that?”
Luke’s laughter filled the room. Perhaps she would be able to bear their time apart after all. Regardless of what came their way, Amy knew deep in her soul that Luke was forever hers, and she would wait as long as it took for him to return to her arms once again. She walked up the stairs towards her bed to rest, clutching the silver ball tightly in her hand.
“Oh, Amy?” his voice echoed from her hand just as she reached the bedroom. “I forgot to tell you something… I love you.”
Amy flopped down onto the squeaking mattress with a bright smile on her face. Shiloh clambered up the stairs and joined her in her usual place at the foot of the bed.
Amy pressed the green button once more and sighed, “Luke, I love you more than you’ll ever know. Please come home soon.” She smiled, placing the trinket radio on the pillow beside her and gazed into the magnificent ring. Her eyes closing, she daydreamed about what life would be like, just the two of them alone on their farm. Maybe they’d raise a family of their own someday. The smile faded as she drifted into a deep sleep. Someday, soon enough, Luke’s loving gaze would be upon her again, his embrace filling her with love and desire. The whole experience had been so mind blowing, a whirr of emotions and the most amazing love story her mind could have ever conceived. She was in love with an alien, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.
THE END
Chosen Alien Bride
Story Description
A chance encounter with a stranger who turns out to be OUT OF THIS WORLD gorgeous leads to a night of unbridled PASSION and a LIFETIME of AWE and WONDER.
One fateful evening, Charlotte notices a brooding, handsome stranger in a darkened corner of the local sports bar that she waitresses at. She finds herself immediately drawn to him as if by some otherworldly supernatural force. He shares his story and quietly reveals that he is an alien who has been drawn to her from deep within the cosmos.
Initially skeptical, Charlotte’s doubts quickly vanish once the stranger begins to demonstrate his alien “talents.” Can Charlotte’s stranger convince her to abandon her solitary life on planet Earth and join him on his home planet as his destined bride?
“Didn't your mother ever teach you it's not polite to touch things without permission?” Charlotte chastised the man whose drink had nearly landed in his lap. It would've served him right, too, given that the precariously perched drink nearly toppled from her tray when he tried to squeeze Charlotte's ass as she leaned over to place the drinks on the table. She glared down at the offender, who returned a look of semi-inebriated chagrin.
Ugh, I already feel like I need a shower, she thought.
She was supposed to be off this evening, but she'd naively accepted the shift for a coworker who claimed she had an important family function.
“Family function, my ass,” Charlotte muttered to herself. By now, she was quite certain that Alison had simply been aware of the guests who would be occupying the sports bar tonight: a bachelor party! If they wanted to spend the evening in a drunken stupor, grabbing at every woman within arms' reach, then Charlotte had no problem with that. But, they really should have moved their party to a more fitting venue—like a strip club or a brothel! But maybe that was the problem; perhaps the groom had blown all his money on the wedding and had none left to enjoy his last night of single-hood with a bang. Charlotte smiled at the pun.
If he'd only budgeted more wisely, the table full of overgrown little boys could be enjoying all the tits and asses they could afford and Charlotte, who had opted for a job where her clothes remained on, could finish out her evening without fingerprints covering every inch of her uniform. It didn't help that the owner's idea of a “uniform” was a skirt that resembled something a school girl would wear, along with a tight, button-up, white blouse. Yeah, like those weren't designed to provide the bar's patrons with walking fantasies, she thought dryly.
Charlotte moved on from the table, grateful that the night was nearly over. “Just one more hour and I'm out of here,” she comforted herself. She moved around the room, checking to see if customers needed refills or another order of wings, and then headed back to the kitchen to hand over two more orders for the evening. She could survey the bar from her position just outside the kitchen. It was the part of her job that she loved; watching people come and go, seeing the play of expression on their faces, guessing why they're celebrating or drowning their sorrows in drink. While she was in the crowd, she couldn't see what was going on around her, but from here, it was the ultimate improv—reality TV at its best. It wasn't that she was a nosy person—it wasn't any of her business what was really going on in her customers' conversations—Charlotte was just fascinated with people.
She'd grown up as an only child, with two professional parents who spent a great deal of their time working. When she was young, it wasn't uncommon for Charlotte to wind up eating dinner with the babysitter, and then once she was old enough to care for herself, eating entirely alone. She used to eat in front of the television; not to keep up with her favorite sitcom or drama, but to watch the news. It made her feel better to know that the people on the television were actually out there somewhere. When her parents passed away in a plane crash just after her seventeenth birthday, Charlotte waited for something to be different. They had gone away for an anniversary vacation and on the day they were expected home, they never arrived. It wasn't until Charlotte was dining that evening in front of the television that she saw coverage of the crash on the news.
Day after day, she continued with her usual routine. She didn't miss her mother tucking her in at night—her mom never did that. She didn't miss tossing a ball around with her dad—he didn't have time for that. In the days, weeks and months following her parents' deaths, she made her own food, stayed on top of her own homework and tucked herself in at night—just like she always had.
Charlotte shook her head to dispel the sad reverie, and as her mind cleared, she noticed a new figure sitting in the darkened area of the bar. It wasn't odd to have new customers, and he probably wouldn't have caught her attention if he hadn't been staring back at her with a piercing gaze that she swore he was using to try to see into her soul.
She was accustomed to her fair share of ogling; at five foot, eight inches with a model's figure, attention from men, and even a few women, was an everyday occurrence. Her flaxen hair shimmered even in the poor lighting of the bar, and her big, stormy blue eyes captured almost as much attention as her long, slender legs and full breasts.
Even when she met the stranger's gaze, he didn't turn away, and the combination of a thrill and a chill ran down her spine. She knew she should be wary of the stranger; blatant attention like that was often a warning sign that the creep might be waiting outside after work. But for some inexplicable reason, she wasn't scared. And then, seemingly of their own
volition, her legs began to propel her forward, moving her slowly toward the table where the stranger sat, still staring. She didn't know why she couldn't help herself—a tiny warning bell should have been going off in her head by now. But, she just kept moving until she stood directly in front of him.
“Hi there. Is there anything I can get for you this evening?” At least as a waitress, even if the guy turned out to be just another creep, her approach wouldn't strike him as odd or inviting. She was just doing her job.
“I'm fine for now. Thank you, Charlotte,” he replied politely, still staring at her intently. She wondered how he knew her name, and then figured he read it on her name tag. She wasn't accustomed to the patrons here being sober enough to bother with reading a name tag. But, as she looked down at her chest, following her mind's train of thought, she froze—she must have forgotten to put her name tag on before her shift started.
“How do you know my name?” she queried, a hint of panic in the tone of her voice.
“I know a great deal about you, Charlotte. And I'd like to know more,” he responded. The accent in his voice threw her off; she couldn't place it from any country she'd heard of.
“I bet you would,” she muttered aloud, beginning to think her “common creep” theory had been correct.
“No. Not in that way, though you are incredibly beautiful,” he said gently. “I mean, I would like the opportunity to learn about who you are,” he clarified, as if that should put her discomfort at ease.
He sounded 100 percent genuine, which made the situation all the more perplexing. Charlotte didn't know what to make of this stranger. By the way he spoke, how he held himself upright and looked clearly at her, she had a difficult time believing he was drunk.
“Yes, well, maybe I'll see you around here sometime.” She didn't know what else to say, and so a casual, uncommitted response seemed most appropriate. It was either that or, “You're creeping me out and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave,” she thought.