He glanced down at her to make sure she wasn’t scared off. Asha met his eyes, wrapping her fingers around him and giving him a squeeze, with a naughty look on her face. He groaned again.
“So big…” She breathed in the heated space between them. Then she was easing his underwear off his body and he was exposed to the world. He watched his member spring up, free of his boxer shorts. Asha stroked him, her hand straining to work him up and down. But he wanted more than that.
“How are you feeling?” He asked in a throaty voice. Asha smiled and leaned in to kiss him once again. They were caught up in a clash of lips, tongue, the nip of teeth every now and then. He could get used to it, no doubt about that.
But his member ached. He wanted more and he wanted it right then. When they finally pulled away to breathe, Darrius took a small step back.
“I want you,” he said in a deep voice. “Turn around.”
Asha looked him over once again before she complied. Darrius stood behind her and bent her over the sink. He watched her lean forward, her round ass in the air. It was the perfect ass, something you could grab two handfuls of and hold onto.
Darrius rolled the condom on. He knew Asha could tell by the latex snap and also by the way she watched him in the mirror. He loved her eyes on him, unabashedly looking over everything he had to offer her.
Once he was prepared, Darrius pushed up Asha’s dress all the way. He curled over her hips, exposing her ass, clothed in the black panties. He pulled down the damp panties and let them fall to the floor, between Asha’s ankles. Now her ass was exposed. He gave it a gentle smack to watch it wiggle. Wow, it looked amazing.
“Ohhhh…” Asha moaned, needing him. “Come on, Darrius.”
He didn’t need to hear another word. Darrius grabbed Asha’s hips, his eyes locked on hers and she looked at him over her shoulder and pushed himself inside.
She felt amazing. Darrius had to stop for a moment and just savor the way her body felt around his. It was like a perfect fit, even if they were in a restaurant bathroom. This was magic.
But then Asha’s moan brought him back to reality. She wanted him in an incredible way. He could feel it radiating from her body. He pushed himself in deep with a grunt. Asha moaned louder. He loved all her sounds. They were addictive. He pulled himself out, only to push back in even further this time, now that he knew she could take it.
Asha bent over the sink, further.
“Take me,” she panted. “Take me, Darrius. Please.”
Darrius didn’t have to be told twice.
Soon, he had found his rhythm, driving deep inside her. In and out, thrusting back and forth. His hips hit the cushion of her ass each time with a soft smack. He grunted, feeling himself pushing deep inside. His fingernails dug into her skin. She slapped the porcelain base of the sink and cried out for more.
He was going to give it to her. He wasn’t the type who backed down. Darrius kept going harder. He could feel her trembling all around him. His manhood throbbed inside her, hot and ready to go. Faster and faster. They were moving together. Asha could take it and she wanted it bad, hard and deep. He gave it to her like that every time. She was crying out his name, over and over again. Darrius. Darrius. Darrius!
It turned him on so much.
He went harder than ever before. He felt like the sink was shaking beneath her. All he could hear were his strokes and her groans. He cried out every time he hit it in the right spot. Over and over again. He could feel the pressure growing. It was going to be soon. He couldn’t hold off much longer.
Then he felt her orgasm rip through her body as Asha cried out. Her whole body tensing and trembling beneath him. He wasn’t too far behind. He felt an explosion of pleasure as he came into the condom buried deep inside him. It was the hardest orgasm he’d had in a while. He couldn’t help it. He shouted her name.
The echo of his bellow reverberated off the bathroom walls.
He pulled out of her with a groan. Asha turned around, sweaty and disheveled. She looked the hottest he had ever seen her. He pulled her in for a long, hot, deep kiss.
Then there was a knock on the door.
“Um, hello,” a timid voice said from the other side. “I’m the manager here. Hi. Uh, we’re going to have to ask you to leave. Immediately.”
Darrius caught Asha’s eye. They both burst into laughter.
*****
A week later, Darrius stood in front of the entire student body of Wayland high. He was wearing a suit and tie. He didn’t look like a criminal. Until he opened his mouth.
“The first time I stole something, I was seven,” Darrius said. “Was in the store. I wanted a candy bar. I took it. I didn’t stop. But I’m here to tell you, there’s a better way.”
Asha stood in the back of the gym listening to Darrius speak to the students. Raelynn stood next to her, shaking her head. She muttered quietly, “I honestly can’t believe you hit that in a restaurant bathroom… and got kicked out.”
Asha just smiled.
“There’s nothing noble about this life,” Darrius said at the end of his speech. “Stealing doesn’t lead to anything good. Well, I take that back.”
Darrius looked up and caught her eye. Asha felt her heart skip a beat.
“Stealing is only good,” Darrius said, eyes still locked on her own. “When you steal a beautiful woman’s heart.”
THE END
Another bonus story is on the next page.
Bonus Story 6 of 24
Mistress Vanessa's Pets Episode 1
Marla loved the sound of coffee percolating. With each new gurgle, the aroma wafted through the kitchen giving the morning a sense of newness and freshness. She remembered the day she had found the antique in a high cupboard. Neither Jason nor Laird knew what to make of the thing and so she demonstrated.
“You fill the pot with water,” she said. “Then you put the grounds in this basket, see. Then you set it on the stove to boil. And you just keep watching that little bubble on top until it’s the color you want, and there you go.”
Laird pondered a moment, and then said, “But the coffee maker over there will produce the precise blend and flavor that you want almost instantly.”
“Yeah, but it’s not as much fun,” Marla said.
“I will never quite understand why humans are so enamored of manual labor.”
“Sometimes,” Jason put in, “how you make something can be a satisfying as what you make.”
“Percolated coffee, for example,” Laird asked.
“Let megive you another example,” Jason said with a smirk. “The other day I read where the Swiss just invented a machine that’ll give you a long, slow orgasm; no muss, no fuss and you don’t have to gohome in the cold.”
“I don’t understand your analogy,” Laid said.
Marla giggled. Jason smiled. And so right there on the kitchen floor the two demonstrated the difference to the alien Hroth. That morning the coffee burned.
Marla chuckled to herself at that memory. She poured her first cup and looked out to the bright summer morning. The air was still and the day promised to be another warm one. She missed air-conditioning, but that was a small price to pay for living away from the troubles of the world.
Laird was off studying birds again. She had no idea where Jason was. He had mentioned something the night before about going into town to get some chicken feed and had left before she woke. No matter, he’d be home when he was hungry.
“Morning Marla,” a voice called from the porch. “Happy Garbage Day.”
“Janet!” Marla said with a smile. “Is it Thursday already?”
Janet opened the screen door and strode into the kitchen. Her postal uniform was clean and crisp and despite the unflattering shorts and shirt, the woman still looked lovely. Marla though that she could wear a hospital gown and be alluring. Janet carried a bundle of mail wrapped with thick rubber bands.
“Something came up,” Janet said, “so I’m a day early this week.”
&nb
sp; “Come in. Sit. Coffee?”
“Thanks kindly.”
Janet sat and Marla poured her a cup.
“So what have you got for us today?” she asked.
“The usual.”
They never got real mail at the old farmhouse. Anyone who knew where they were used wave-mail or texts, and so anything that came by post was trash. Janet knew that the junk mail never made it into the house and so would hold it all in piles for them, and then deliver a week’s worth on what she called Garbage Day. She had the mail sorted into categories; grocery flyers, insurance offers, store sales and the like. She also took care to make special bundles for the hardware and lingerie catalogs. Marla sat with her coffee and snatched up the latest Lovely in Lace.
“Do you think,” she said leafing through, “that these girls actually exist? I mean they’re so perfect, they have to be computer generated or something.”
“I don’t know,” Janet said. “They probably work on ‘em a lot, the pic I mean. But there’s plenty of beautiful girls out there. I mean look at you, you may be petite but you fill a bra nicely.”
“Are you hitting on me again?”
“Kinda.”
“What would Rachael say?”
“She wouldn’t say anything,” Janet said with a grin. “She would smile and—“
“I get it. Maybe someday. But look at this . . . can you believe the price?”
“Um, Marla?”
Marla looked up. There was a strange look on Janet’s face.
“There’s also this,” the woman said handing Marla an envelope.
It was small, maybe half the size of a greeting card, pink and the address was written in an elegant flowery hand. Taking it up Marla smelled roses.
“There’s – there’s no return address,” Marla said. “Who’s it from?”
“Dunno,” Janet said with a shrug. “It was in my pile this morning. I thought that you’d want it, so I came a day early.”
“What is it?”
Janet looked at her flatly. Marla looked the letter. It was delicate and feminine, but there was something different about it, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She started to tear into the pretty thing, but she thought that such an elegant envelop wanted a proper opening. She slit it open with a steak knife and as she did the scent of roses wafted stronger. Inside was a neatly folded slip of paper. Marla opened it and read;
Mistress Vanessa Kitteredge requests the honor to call on Dr. Marla Alyona Navarro on Thursday at 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon.
Marla read the thing twice. Her guard went up immediately. Thursday was tomorrow.
“Who is Mistress Vanessa Kitteredge?” Marla asked.
“Dunno,” Janet said leafing through the sleepwear section. “That name, Kitteredge … that’s an old Yankee name. From Maine I think. Isn’t there a Kitteredge bank or something?”
Marla shrugged.
“What is it?” Janet asked.
“It’s an invitation,” Marla answered. “Sort of.”
“Okay. Anyhow it’s your business. But would you look at this peignoir set. I love purple.”
Over the next cup of coffee, the two paged through the catalogs and chatted as women will do. But all the while Marla had an uneasy feeling.
*****
She spent the morning on-line researching the Kitteredge family. Janet was right, the family was from Maine and was old; they pre-dated the Revolution. She was also right about their being in banking and finance, but they were so small. Their main office was in Rumford, over an hour north of Augusta. They had a few branches here and there including one in Berlin and one in Columbia, New Hampshire, both a fair bit of adrive from her farm in Jackson. But the bank was not listed on any exchange that she could find.
The family history took some digging, and even then there wasn’t much. Unlike most old New Englanders, there were few who joined the military, and of those who did, there were none of any real distinction. The Kitteredge Bank seemed content to finance local farmers and manufacturers and not much else. Nowhere could she find a reference to a Vanessa; Mistress, Miss or Mrs.
“You seem intense,” Laird said.
“This is so weird,” she said turning to him. “I just got this – Laird! You’re naked.”
Her alien lover stood in the doorway to the study, sheened with sweat and without a stitch of clothes. His face was stern, sculpted with distinct almost Aryan lines that defined the bone structure, as if his skin had been stretched just that tight. His narrow green eyes were set deep and the thin whisps of eyebrows looked almost penciled on. His straight, dark hair brushed his shoulders. His body was lean but muscled in ways that were not quite right and yet not quite wrong, and his deep chocolate skin gleamed where those strange muscles bulged, and where they sank there was a dark contrast.
But what had always made Marla pause was that the Hroth had nothing visible ‘down there’. At his crotch and between that pronounced thigh gap there was nothing, not even pubic hair. The brown flesh ran smoothly from his belly down and around to his backside, showing no hint of any sex organ.
“It’s a hot day,” he said. “And yes, I remember what you’ve said about human propriety. I am careful. Your letter carrier is really the only one who ever treks up this far and I saw her. And more to the point she did not see me so you can relax.”
“One of these days,” Marla said shaking her head.
“Many things might happen one of these days. But today I see you intent on your computer. What did you just get?”
She handed him the note and he flopped onto the wing-back, his legs spread wide. Marla again felt a small shiver seeing nothing where there should have been something. He read the paper, then he sniffed it, and then he licked it, his forked tongue gliding over both sides and all edges never leaving a trace of saliva.
“The script is confident,” he said, “almost showing off. There is an odor of a flower, a slight acidic taste to the ink, and the paper is … different.”
“Different?”
“Different from ordinary paper,” he began. “Though there are a lot of variations. Newsprint for example–“
“You taste paper?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“One of these days,” she said. “Anyway it’s probably some fancy stationary that you haven’t sampled yet, but that’s not the point. The point is the message. Kind of weird isn’t it?”
“It is,” he said, “particularly because the writer gives you no option. It’s a declaration.”
“I don’t like it,” she said rising and pacing to the window. “I don’t know this woman, I can’t find her anywhere, and how does she know me?”
“I don’t know,” Laird said. “And I don’t see what makes you so special, other than the fact that you are in a relationship with an alien and a werewolf.”
“I liked you a lot better before you learned sarcasm.”
“Be that as it may, what are you going to do?”
“Well for openers,” she said. “I’m not going to tell Jason.”
“Oh boy.”
“You know how he gets.”
Marla put the letter in her desk and the two went about their chores. All the while she was of two minds, not wanting to hide anything from her other lover and yet not wanting to face the consequence when he found out. That afternoon she and Laird were gathering eggs when they saw Jason strolling up the drive.
Jason Koru was the sort of brawny man who could easily have stood holding an ax or a chainsaw in any of the hardware ads. He was fair skinned, sort of hairy, and well-muscled where a human should be. His eyes twinkled like Santa Clause, and the grin on his face was framed with a bushy beard. Dressed in cut-off jeans, work boots and a sleeveless tee-shirt he strode carrying a sack of feed over one shoulder and a bag of machine parts in his other hand.
“I think,” Laird said softly, “that I need to go and…”
“Don’t you dare leave me,” Marla snapped shoving her egg basket a
t him.
She skipped happily down the drive, calling out to Jason. She hugged and kissed him despite his load. They chatted some, and after he had set the sack in the chicken coop Marla brought him to the kitchen for a glass of cold water. Laird was there, now clothed, stowing the eggs.
“Hey man,” Jason said kissing him on the cheek and swatting his rear. “Saw you out with your bird friends this morning. How’s that going?”
“Good,” Laird nodded. “Real good. How was your hike?”
“Bracing.”
“Good.”
“And what did you do today my loveliest love,” Jason said taking Marla in his arms.
“Well …”
“What’s that smell?”
“I’m roasting a chicken,” Marla said.
“No,” Jason said, his nose in the air. “Something else, something like – did you pick flowers?”
Marla shook her head. Jason sniffed. He let her go. He hovered a moment around the table, then he walked through the house, eyes half closed, and leading with his nose. Marla looked to Laird and the two followed. They found him in the study by her desk. He leaned in toward the drawer, and then he looked to Marla. The glint left his eyes.
“I – I was going to tell you,” she said, “after supper.”
“Oh boy,” Laird said.
Marla took a breath. She opened the drawer and handed Jason the note. He read it. He sniffed it. He looked at the envelop and sniffed that. Then his shut his eyes and shook his head.
“That’s it,” he said. “We’re leaving.”
*****
“What?”
“The woman is a hunter,” Jason said staring off at nothing. “Pack only what you need, we travel light.”
“What!”
“If we leave tonight,” he continued. “We can be in Dixville Notch by morning. From there we can find a way across the border. Once we’re north of Saguenay…”
“Jason what are you talking about?” Marla asked.
Alien Romance: Interview with an Alien (Football Paranormal Invasion Abduction Alpha Sci-fi Romance) (Fantasy First New Adult Contact Science Fiction Mystery Sports Alien Short Stories) Page 19