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)

by Robin Cavanaugh

  He knew deep down that it would be hard to carry on this relationship in secret forever.

  Colby lifted Ivanka into his strong, powerful arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, pulled her skirt and panties down her legs. He couldn't take his eyes off her cock. It looked so full and thick as it lay on her stomach. A very impressive piece of man meat. He looked at his own cock. It was twitching. It had been a long time since he'd seen it so engorged.

  This was the moment he’d been waiting for impatiently. He kissed the insides of her thighs and worked his way up to the huge balls. He wasn't sure what to do next. He took the hard cock in his hands and began to stroke it up and down. It felt so strange, soft and squishy with a hardness inside. It didn't feel anything like his own dick, at least not at first. It was a feeling that he would never forget.

  “Hold on,” Ivanka said, quickly getting out of the bed, and retrieving her purse from the floor. She pulled out a bottle of something handed it to Colby.

  “Oh and I forgot one more thing,” she said, reaching back into her bag and pulling out a handful of gold condoms. The big size. Magnum, XXL. The only kind that would fit Colby’s huge dick.

  “I see you’ve come prepared,” Colby says.

  “Always,” she said.

  “I like that,” he said.

  Colby rubbed a finger around Ivanka’s tight asshole. She closed her eyes, leaned back on the pillow, and moaned. After he had worked his finger around the hole a few times, Colby pushed it in and out. Then it was time for two, and why not three? He worked three fingers in and out of her ass.

  “Oh God,” Ivanka said, her eyes still closed, a sheen of sweat covering her nude body. “Oh, my God that feels so good.”

  “I bet I have something that will feel even better,” Colby said.

  “Yes, please,” Ivanka said. “Please put it inside of me. I want to feel your cock inside of me.

  Colby smiled. He could already see the pre-cum leaking from his dick. He grabbed the stiff shaft and jerked it a few times. It was granite hard. He put the condom on, then rubbed the purple mushroom head against the tight asshole. It was wet and stretched out. But it would still be a tight fit. A very tight fit.

  He pushed the head into Ivanka’s ass. She bit her bottom lip, wrinkles forming in her four head. Colby grabbed the hard shaft and pushed halfway in.

  It was the tightest fit he’d ever felt. He brought his hips back and slowly pushed himself in. He did that three, four, five more times. The hole began to gradually loosen up.

  It wasn't long before he worked up a good rhythm, his hips thrusting back and forth into her, each thrust harder than the last one. It wasn't long before Colby could feel the cum rising in his dick. He was going to shoot a huge load!

  He let out a loud groan as his body slowed down, momentarily twitching, convulsively. He gripped Ivanka’s ass the whole time, kept his dick very deep in her. Seconds later, cum began to spurt from her dick as if shot out a geyser. Colby smiled, admiring the thick load that she shot into the air.

  *****

  For the last several days, Colby had had been receiving calls from a private number. He hadn't answered any of them. He knew better than that. But he was starting to grow curious. Who could it possibly be? Finally after ignoring about 10 of the calls, Colby finally decided to pick up the phone.

  “Hello,” he said.

  There was heavy breathing on the other end.

  “Hello,” Colby said again, on the verge of hanging up.

  “You're in trouble motherfucker,” the voice said. “Big trouble.”

  “What?” Colby said. “Who is this?”

  “How do you feel about being the first gay player in the NHL?” The voice said. “Does it make you proud?”

  “What the fuck”? Colby said.

  “That's a good question, Colby,” the voice said. “What the fuck were you doing sucking a tranny’s dick? Did you really think no one would find out about that?”

  “What are you talking about? I never did anything like that,” Colby said, his lips quivering with rage.

  What was going on? He was about to go mad. He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He had the energy, the rage, the boiling blood to put his fist through another man's face, breaking every single bone.

  “Who is this?” Colby said.

  “We've got everything on tape,” the voice said. “Before each game of the next series, we’ll be releasing 10-minute segments. You guys have been going at it for the last couple months. We've got lots of footage.”

  “Who are you?” Colby said. “I'll kill you.”

  The line went dead.

  Colby trembled with rage. He would never have imagined that he could end up in this sort of precarious situation.

  He sent a text to Ivanka: “Where are you? We have to talk,” he texted.

  He had a very bad feeling. Had she decided to go to the press? Had she been recording him all this time?

  He sent her three more texts over the next few minutes. A half an hour later she still hadn't responded. He was becoming more and more suspicious.

  He thought back to that night, that fateful night when they'd bump into each other at the club. He replayed that event in his mind. At the time, it seemed like such an incredible coincidence, an act of fate, serendipity. Yes, that's what he’d told himself. That's what he’d believed. But now when he thought back on it, when he reflected further on that fateful moment, he wasn't nearly so sure. What if the whole thing had been a setup? But who would do such a thing? That was a silly question. He had so many enemies. It could've been a player from a rival team. It could've been a player from his very own team, from inside the Ranger locker room, a fellow teammate jealous of his success, on and off the ice.

  This was by far the most important time of the season. There was no way to build your stature as a player if you didn't perform at the highest possible level in these two frenetic months that would decide the champion. There could only be one champion. Everyone else would be losers.

  The series with the Bruins was only a day away. They were going to release 10 minutes of video before each game. Tomorrow they would be releasing the first 10 minutes.

  Colby paced up and down his apartment. He’d never been involved in anything like this before. It seemed crazy. It didn't seem like it could be real. It was the worst possible nightmare for a rich, young, hunk. Everything was laid out before him. In less than 24 hours his entire life would be ruined. Everything that he’d built for himself would be torn down, reduced to rubble, a pile of stinking ashes.

  He would most likely lose all of his endorsement deals. His teammates would turn their backs on him. How could he continue to be the team captain? The team captain sleeping with transsexuals? They’d be the laughingstock of the entire league. He would be a laughingstock of the entire team. But a lot of the guys wouldn't be laughing. Many of them would be red hot with anger and intent on revenge. They would want to punish him. He’d been the star, the arrogant, cocky, star. On billboards and all the team promotional material his picture always bigger than everybody else's. That would all be over.

  That voice on the phone still haunted him. He could feel it jackhammering in his skull.

  “You're going to be the first gay player in the NHL,” the voice had said. “Does it make you proud?”

  That son of a bitch! Who could be behind this? He racked his brain.

  And then he remembered. It struck him like an electric shock. The epiphany. Who could it be? He thought back to that night, that boring, Friday night, when he sat on the couch drinking a few beers, flicking through the channels disinterestedly. He thought back to that night, and back to the text he received. The text from Jack.

  Now that he thought about it, he found it really strange. Players rarely did that during the season. Especially players on rival teams. The decisive playoff series with the Bruins was less than 24 hours away. For the next two weeks, Colby would be bumping heads with Jack and his
ruthless teammates. It would be a no holds barred death match. Colby was determined to fight harder than he had m ever in his entire playing career. He’d never been more determined to win a series.

  It was all falling into place, finally making sense to Colby. Yet he still didn't know what he could do. He didn't seem to have any options. Even though he’d figured out, or had a very strong sense that he figured out what was going on, he still had very few means of going about stopping it. He was trapped in a corner, seemingly with no way out. The beast of public opinion, the hostile, homophobic public opinion would swallow him whole, feast on his flesh, sadistically smiling with each bite.

  But what was Ivanka's role in this?

  Was it possible, was there any chance, had everything with her had been fake?

  Was there a chance that she was in on this from the beginning? Could that really be possible? Had he really been that big of a sucker over the last couple months?

  All of these confusing, painful questions swirled around Colby's head.

  *****

  “How could you do this to me?” Colby pleaded. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

  His lips trembled with rage. Tears welled up in his eyes. He never cried, especially not in front of another person.

  Tears streamed down Ivanka’s cheeks. Her body began to shake. She cast her eyes down at the floor.

  Colby’s suspicions were confirmed. She was in on it all along. All her words, her promises, all her love and affection, it had all been a game, a trap that he’d fallen into.

  “I'm sorry,” Ivanka said. “So sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

  Finally, she’d come clean. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any more lies. Colby wouldn't be able to tolerate any more of her bullshit.

  “Baby,” Ivanka said. “I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I didn't. But they offered me so much money. I couldn’t turn it down.”

  “Who?” Colby said lunging towards her. “Who offered you the money? Tell me!”

  “Please forgive me,” she said. “I didn't mean to do it. But I had no choice.”

  “Who?” Colby screamed in her face.

  “There was some guy,” she said her voice trembling, unable to maintain eye contact. “From Boston.”

  Ivanka closed her eyes and ducked, as if she expected his fists to start flying, pummeling her into submission, leaving her broken and bruised on the floor. It wouldn't be the first time that she had ended up like that, not the first time that she'd tapped into something primal and hateful inside a man’s psyche.

  “I knew it,” Colby said, taking two steps backward, releasing Ivanka from his menacing grip.

  He lowered his head, shook it from side to side.

  “So you were recording me this whole time?” Colby asked. “Everything?”

  Ivanka had a strange, surprised look on her face.

  “What are you talking about?” She asked.

  “Stop bullshitting,” Colby said. “You know exactly what I'm talking about.”

  “I swear to God,” Ivanka said. “I never filmed or recorded anything that we did together.”

  Colby snickered. No way did he believe her. She was still trying to deceive him. Still covering for somebody or someone. Not revealing who it was who had cut the check and sent her on this deceitful mission.

  But he wouldn't give up that easily.

  “You said that you would tell the truth,” Colby said. “No more lies. No more games. No more bullshit.”

  “And that's what I'm doing,” Ivanka said. “What did they tell you?”

  Colby sighed and shook his head. “They told me that they had recordings. Video and audio. Hours of them.

  “I didn't do any of that. I swear,” Ivanka said. “They told me that they would snap a few pictures on the first couple dates. And that would be enough.”

  Colby turned towards her, eyebrows raised.

  “For the first two dates?” He said. “What was supposed to happen on the next dates?”

  The silence was long and intense and seemed to stretch on forever. Or maybe it froze time. They were the last two souls on the face of the earth, facing each other, neither willing to back down, both of them full of love and pride.

  Ivanka brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, slowly raised her eyes to meet Colby’s.

  “They didn't say anything about what was going to happen after the first two dates,” she said, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

  Colby hesitated before responding, swallowing with difficulty, then loudly cleared his throat.

  He never got like this. He never got choked up when talking to a woman. But he wasn't talking to a woman. But in a certain sense, he absolutely was. It was all so confusing. He had yet to make sense of what this relationship meant for his sexuality. He had yet to make sense of what it meant about his masculinity. Those were questions that he would most likely struggle with over the next few days, weeks, months, even years. It wouldn't be easy. But he was willing to fight against prejudice and against the rampant homophobia that bubble just beneath the surface, just beneath that tolerant veneer that society presented.

  Sure, gay people might now be accepted. They were born that way, but he was in a different category, straddling the fence, not black not white but gray, not committing to one side or the other. He was dangerous, unwanted, and unnatural. Perverse. That's what he was. A pervert. Everyone would agree on that. Make up your mind they would say. There is no in between. There is no bi-sexual. You're just a fag on the down low, waiting for the opportunity to take some cock in your mouth and ass. Isn't that right? They would say with a snicker and a dismissive, hateful look in their eyes. Isn't that right?

  It killed Colby to think that maybe they were right after all. Maybe he was a fraud. Maybe his heterosexuality was just a bunch of make-believe, plaster put over the real him. A mask meant to hide his deeply and profoundly homoerotic self.

  Colby could feel the rage bubbling up in his stomach. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth. Veins bulged in his neck and forehead. Ivanka took several steps backward. She crouched as if preparing to receive a hail of blows.

  Colby had never hit a woman before. He wasn't sure how much of a woman she really was. But he didn't want to hit her anyway. The rage he felt, the anger he felt in his stomach, wasn't really for Ivanka. He believed her story. For the most part. Women always left something out. He would get everything out of her eventually.

  He saw how the pieces fit into place. This had been the plan all along: to throw him off his game during this critical playoff series. The plan had worked, almost.

  Colby had struggled for the last several weeks, unable to score, getting into fights, and generally being the least productive member of the team.

  He even got benched for more than ten minutes, which was something unheard of. That had never happened to him before in his career. It was the wake-up call that he needed. Figuring out what exactly was going on with Ivanka, figuring out who exactly was blackmailing him, and why, was just what he needed as well.

  He felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

  “What are you going to do if they release the tape before the first game?” Ivanka asked.

  “I'm not even going to worry about that,” Colby said. “It doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter.”

  “It matters a lot,” Ivanka said. “Your career, your reputation. Lots of endorsement money. All those things matter and you know they do.”

  “Yes, I know. All those things do matter, but I have to be true to myself,” Colby said. “Or else none of it makes sense. None of that shit is worth anything if I have to pretend in order to have them.”

  Ivanka lowered her eyes. A slight smile broke out on her face, then quickly disappeared, but it was there long enough for Colby to catch it. He had a pretty good feeling what it meant. He had a pretty good feeling that she was very receptive to what he was saying. Maybe she would be able to forgive him for his outburst, his tantrum, his inabi
lity to keep his calm.

  Ivanka raised her beautiful green eyes and fixed them on Colby. Then began walking towards him, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. She came closer and closer, stopping inches in front of him.

  “I've been waiting to do this for so long,” Colby said. “So fucking long.”

  “I know,” Ivanka said, throwing her head back and brushing a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Me too. Every night before I go to bed I start thinking about you, and—”

  *****

  That was all Colby needed to hear.

  Colby closed his eyes reached out and pulled her full-figured body to him. He loved Ivanka's long legs, her big tits and huge, pointy nipples, and, of course, her round, soft ass. Yes, he loved all those things. There was no question about it. But at the same time, there was no denying that he thoroughly enjoyed the sight and then the feel and the taste of her cock.

  A beautiful, slightly curved circumcised purple headed cock with the big thick veins running down the middle of the meaty shaft. It was his first cock. The first piece of dick meat that he’d ever held in his hands. It was so strange. It didn't feel anything like his cock, at least not at first as he stroked the semi-hard shaft up and down, on his knees in front of her, her hand on top of his head.

  He never would've imagined that something like that would’ve been possible. He was the submissive? He was the bottom? No, this couldn't be happening. But it felt so good. He looked down at his cock. It was hard and twitching, ready to go, ready to plunge into a tight asshole, pump in and out, in and out and covered with ass juice. Then he would pull it out and tell her to turn around and give it a good suck. Lick it clean. That would be so primal, so fucking primal. Just thinking about it was sending the pre-cum leaking out of his cock onto the carpet. He could explode at any second.