by Meg Ripley
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.
Captured By Two Aliens
“I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!” Rachel hollered across her empty living room as she made a mad dash across her apartment wearing nothing but a towel to reach the ringing cell phone she'd forgotten in her purse.
She knew hollering at the phone wasn't going to make the caller on the other end stay on the line any longer, but she couldn't help it. She delved into her purse, releasing the towel in her haste. Her hands found the cell phone in the same moment the towel hit the floor. She'd forgotten to close the curtains, and any passerby on the street would easily be able to see into her second story windows, but this call was too important to miss. She slid her finger across the screen to answer the call, hoping for the good news she'd been longing to hear.
“OK. I see. Thanks very much. Yes, of course. There's always next time,” Rachel spoke methodically into the phone and then pressed a button to end the call.
Forgetting about the towel, Rachel walked despondently back across the room, the moonlight streaming through the windows, gently highlighting every curve of her tall, slim frame. Her long, flaming red hair cascaded down her back and shimmered in the soft li
ght. She rummaged listlessly through her dresser drawer and slipped on a black satin thong. She had intended to locate its matching bra, but the effort seemed too much to bother with at the moment. Feeling deflated, she sat down instead.
“I can't believe they passed me over for some girl from Alaska. Alaska!” Rachel whispered incredulously, sitting on the edge of her bed, bare-breasted and forlorn.
She had really thought that this audition was the one. She had risen above the majority of the competition, even received a call-back this time. But the chestnut-haired twit with the blue eyes and clueless, perky smile ended up with the part. Rachel had no doubt that the Alaskan girl fucked her way into the role, and that was the only reason Rachel wasn't the one rehearsing on set right now. It wasn't that Rachel was a prude—she liked sex just as much as the next girl—but she wasn't exactly what one would call “wild,” and she certainly couldn't fathom sleeping with some director or producer to make her career happen.
She was beautiful, talented and intelligent—that should count for something, right? At least, that's what Rachel had thought four years ago when she arrived in L.A. But, years later and no acting jobs in sight left her thinking that unless she was ready to add “Blow Jobs 101” to her résumé’s list of academic accomplishments, she wasn't landing a career-launching role anytime soon. She flopped back on her mattress and stretched her arms above her head.
Her dream of becoming an actress wasn't unique, she knew—it was the dream of a multitude of young women. But, Rachel wasn't only interested in fame and fortune. With stardom came the opportunity to effect real change in the world. People would listen when she spoke and pay attention to the causes that were important to her. When she supported a foundation seeking to end world hunger, others would follow in her footsteps, and together they would make change happen. But, so many years later and the only impact she'd made was providing a finer dining experience for too-rich restaurant-goers with more money than manners.
Rachel stared out her window, always fascinated by the multitude of stars that blanketed the sky, and honed in on one that appeared particularly bright tonight. It seemed to almost flicker in the dark sky, and each time it was brighter than before.
“Would it be totally ridiculous of me to wish on a star?” she queried aloud wryly.
But the longer she stared at the bright light in the sky, the more it compelled her. She was drawn to it, so much so that seemingly of its own volition, her body sat upright and leaned forward. It wasn't enough. Rachel stood and crossed the few steps from the bed to the window, her eyes never leaving the bright star. Her hands rose to press against the window in front of her, as if beseeching it to move her closer to the star trapped in her gaze.
“OK. Here goes nothing,” she conceded, feeling a little foolish. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind got louder; it assured her that there was nothing foolish in what she did now.
“I want to be a leader. I want to make change happen. I want to live in a world where what I've done has mattered somehow,” she wished aloud.
She felt ridiculous, but the task was done and over with now. And a calm, comforting feeling washed over her. She moved gracefully toward her closet, her hips swaying gently, and reached for a form-fitting, silky cream-colored tee and a pair of boy-cut shorts. She slipped on the clothes, her breasts pressing firmly against the fabric of her shirt, her nipples clearly visible through the light-colored material. The shorts barely covered her ass and hugged every curve. Though definitely not traditional lingerie, the outfit made her feel incredibly sexy, and since she was the only person in her apartment tonight, she could sleep in whatever outfit she chose.
Rachel crawled beneath her covers, enjoying the feel of the lightweight fabric of her sheets caressing her bare skin. She'd worry about her non-existent acting career in the morning. For now, she held onto that calm, peaceful feeling and within moments, she drifted off to sleep.
****
She awoke slowly, stretching languidly to feel the soft rub of the bed linens. But the sheets weren't covering her body. With her eyes still closed, she felt around the mattress for their softness, thinking she must have kicked them off during the night. But she didn't find the plush texture of her mattress beneath her hands. Instead, her hand made contact with a smooth, cool surface. Rachel's eyes were open in a flash, but the darkness surrounding her made the action pointless. She couldn't remember her apartment ever having been so dark before. She moved to sit abruptly, but she couldn't bring herself upright. Her arms and legs were free to move, but her torso was immobilized.
She tried to remain calm, fighting the panic rising within her. Rachel's first thought was that something happened to her. Had she somehow suffered some injury that caused damage to her spine? But the last thing she remembered was climbing into bed, perfectly healthy and uninjured. Certainly a fall from the height of her bed could not cause serious damage. And how could she move her arms and legs if she had suffered a spinal injury? She fought to sit upright again, lifting her head off the hard surface beneath her. While still immobilized, the action reassured her that she had definitely not suffered a paralyzing injury; too much of her body could move freely.
But then, fear rose to the forefront of her mind. If she weren't injured, why on earth couldn't she sit up? And then the room illuminated and she could see her surroundings clearly. What she saw was not the interior of her bedroom; she didn't recognize anything at all. She began to fight vigorously against the invisible bindings keeping her in her current position. Seemingly out of nowhere she heard a voice.
“Please. Do not hurt yourself. I will release the hold on you. It was only meant to keep you safe from injuring yourself,” a deep, husky voice spoke, but Rachel could not find the source.
She stopped thrashing and suddenly she could move freely. In one swift movement, she was upright and off the cold, hard surface that had confined her a moment prior. Her eyes darted around frantically, searching for a way out, but finding no obvious means of escape.
“Who are you? Why am I here? What do you want from me?” She questioned frantically.
A door slid open and a figure walked slowly, carefully into the room. “I am not here to hurt you Rachel. I promise you that,” the figure with the deep, husky voice tried to assure her.
At first, she couldn't make out anything but the outline of the figure. It was shrouded by a light that flickered slowly. And each time it did, the light became brighter. She immediately remembered the star from the night prior. It had held her gaze captive just as the light surrounding this figure was doing to her now. He continued moving forward slowly and as he did, the light obscured less and by the time he stood just a few steps away from Rachel's frightened form she could see him clearly.
He wasn't an ordinary man—if a man at all—but he resembled one in so many ways. He was tall, with arms and legs, hands and feet, sinewy muscle and a humanoid-shaped head. His skin was paler than hers—a considerable feat given that she had a fair, peaches and cream complexion all year round. He had no body hair that she could see. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and casual tee, which struck her as extremely odd given that he didn't appear to be...human.
There was no hair on his head either, but in its place were bright, beautiful red markings that looked like intricate tattoos. Upon closer inspection, those same intricate markings peeked out above the neckline of his shirt, covering his neck; they extended down the lengths of his arms where she could see below his shirt sleeves. His feet were bare with the same tattoos, but she couldn't entirely make out their shape; it seemed as if they changed almost imperceptibly in shape right before her eyes, first with almost minimal toe delineation, and now completely foot-like with toes just like any other man.
Rachel remained speechless for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what it was that stood before her. The effect the stranger was having on her confused her, making it even more difficult to summon a coherent thought. Arousal coursed through her body as her eyes traveled a
cross his muscular, humanoid figure. By the time she had finished her perusal, the arousal had settled between her legs, making her wet, as her clit began to throb.
“My name, in your language, is Ny-len. As you can see, I am holding no weapons, you are not restrained. I have no intentions of hurting you,” he tried to reassure her in a calm tone.
“Then why am I here?” Rachel whispered, realizing just now as the stranger's eyes grazed over her body that she was still dressed in the tiny shorts and see-through shirt she had thrown on the night before.
She crossed her arms in front of her tits trying to hide them from his view, but to her chagrin, she was sure that he had already caught sight of her hard nipples. His eyes lingered where her arms crossed in front of her chest, and lust radiated from his eyes. Eyes that looked entirely human, except that the irises were a vibrant orange and the lids were more deeply hooded, like the eyes of cowboys in old movies, the heroes squinting against the hot, bright, desert sun.
“It was you who called out to me. Or, I should say, that you wished upon 'us.' My brother and I, we were the bright light that you saw in the sky last night. We have been watching you, and then we heard your wish. And when we saw you; your flaming red hair so similar in color to the markings on our skin; your beautiful, pale body, nearly naked before us. We knew in that moment that you were the answer for us, and I believe, we are the answer for you, as well,” he finished eloquently.
“So, what you're trying to tell me is that you're really an alien—a bright, shiny alien--and you've abducted me!” The idea sounded ludicrous even to her own ears. “Then how in the world, may I ask, are you wearing Levi jeans?!?” She'd noticed the label peeking from his pocket, and now began to wonder if this was some sort of crazy ruse. But she couldn't imagine who in the world would have been the instigator. And this would have to be some very elaborate ruse.