by Gini Koch
“No, I’m just sort of stiff lying here.”
A different smile crept across his face. “I know what you mean.”
My sex drive woke right up and shoved my pelvis forward. Yep, he was fully awake. I considered pulling away, but he moved and kissed me. I stopped thinking about the fact that I’d known him for about a day and focused on how this kiss was just as great as the first one. Possibly better, since he wasn’t wearing a shirt and the rest of the clothes we were in were pretty thin.
He wrapped one leg around me and pulled my body closer to his, while his hands stroked my back. My arms were still around him, and as our kiss got deeper and more passionate, I held him more tightly. Soon we were entwined around each other, in the hottest make-out session I’d ever been a part of. Martini’s lips and tongue owned mine, and this aroused me more than anyone else’s entire range of moves ever had.
The man could kiss, and his hands weren’t slackers, either. He stroked the small of my back in such a way that I was squirming, trying to get his hand lower or him inside of me, preferably both at the same time.
His other hand roamed my side, coming close to but not touching anything I desperately wanted touched. It was erotic and tormenting at the same time. Our bodies rubbed against each other, and all I wanted was to get out of this chair and our nightclothes and into the bed, as fast as possible.
Martini moved his mouth from mine so his tongue and teeth could toy with my neck and ear. This left me free to moan and gasp, about all I could contribute when he was doing this, other than my body continuing to thrust wildly against his in the hopes he’d take the hint and move past foreplay before I self-destructed.
I felt him smile against my skin. “I told you, I take my time with this.” His tongue slid up my neck to tickle my ear. “How badly do you want to get out of this chair?” As he asked, he slid one hand under my T-shirt. He stroked my stomach while I tried to remember how to form words.
My inarticulate moan of pleasure and desire must have been comprehensible in alien-speak, because he moved away from me. This was not what I wanted, but the separation didn’t last long. He got out of the chair and picked me up, stripping my T-shirt off at the same time.
I wrapped my legs around his waist while he displayed as much skill with my breasts as he had with everything else so far. His tongue twirled around my nipples, making them harder than they’d ever been before, including in the snow, while I ran my hands over his head, my fingers through his hair, and ground my pelvis against his rock-hard abs. As his teeth gently toyed with me, my head fell back and my body shook as pleasure coursed through me, fast and hard. I’d never had an orgasm at second base before, and I hoped the rooms were soundproof, because I was yowling like a cat in heat, and for the same reasons.
Martini spun us around, deposited me on the bed, and slammed the bedroom door shut. It wasn’t all that dark—I realized there was a night-light somewhere in the room. I could see him looking at me. He slowly ran his eyes up and down my body as he moved onto the bed on his hands and knees, between my legs.
“You are so damned sexy,” he growled.
I tried to share that he wasn’t a slouch in this department himself, but my brain and mouth couldn’t get their act together. I just reached for him and managed to make a sort of mewling sound.
He grinned and slid on top of me. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” I arched against him, loving the feel of his skin against mine, and he grinned again. “Me too.”
He grasped my wrists and moved my arms out and then down, holding me captive. Then his tongue slammed into my mouth and caused me to writhe against him as if we were in an earthquake. His body held mine in place while he rubbed himself against me, so close to entry but prevented by two thin pieces of cotton.
This kiss went on until the final aftershocks of my orgasm passed. Then he pulled away and sat up on his knees. He slid my pajama pants off slowly, oh, so slowly, until they were at my knees. He moved to my side, his lips and tongue traced my stomach, as he pulled the pajamas the rest of the way off.
He was in a position where I could reach him, and I decided I should take a more active part in this experience. I traced him through the pajama bottoms he was still wearing. He was incredibly well-proportioned—the phrase “hung like a horse” came to mind.
He liked it, if his thrusting toward my hand was any indication. I stroked him through the thin cotton, controlling myself from trying to shred the pajamas off him in order to feel his skin against my hand.
Martini gave a low growl of pleasure, and then his mouth moved downward. This time I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back in my head. As his tongue moved over me, my hand tightened around him instinctively—it had no intention of letting go right now, possibly ever. The other one managed to find his head. My fingers twined through his hair and moved against his scalp in time with his tongue’s movements.
He growled again and increased his ministrations until I was almost out of my mind, causing wave after wave of pleasure to course through my body. I’d had multiple orgasms before, well, a couple of times, but never this fast or intense.
I managed to form words. “Jeff . . . oh my God . . . Jeff . . . please . . .” Okay, they weren’t the most coherent words, but they were clear, and if not clear, at least I wasn’t screaming too loudly.
He took pity on me and moved slowly up my body, stopping to say hello to my breasts again and find out if they’d missed him. They had, but the rest of me wanted him, too. He moved, and despite my one hand’s best efforts, pulled out of my grasp. I moaned my distress at this turn of events, but then his mouth was back at my neck, and I was moaning because I couldn’t help it.
People have different erogenous zones, and one of my least obvious but most effective areas was my neck. Anywhere, but in particular the sides and back. Martini proved he could find each individual spot on my neck to make me moan and gasp out an orgasmic symphony.
My hands were clawing at his back while I wrapped my legs around his torso. If he wasn’t going to come inside, I was going to do my best to force him.
He chuckled and moved up on his forearms. “Do you want something, baby?” His tone was erotically teasing, and it made me want him even more, which I wouldn’t have thought possible by now.
I wrapped one hand around the back of his neck while the other tried to rip his pajamas off. I also finally got a clear sentence out. “Make love to me, right now, or I’m going to go insane, or kill you, or both.”
Martini flashed his killer grin. “I was just waiting for you to ask nicely.” He slid his pants off, managing to keep my body under his control. This might have been due to him kissing me, of course.
Then his body was fully on top of mine, our skin rubbing together. He was close, but not inside, just stroking me lightly while I moaned and whimpered and tried to move enough to get him past the threshold. He leaned up on his forearms again, but he wasn’t grinning—he looked as out of control with desire as I was.
His eyes locked with mine, and he thrust inside me. I tried to keep eye contact, but I couldn’t. My back arched, and I leaned my head back as his full length entered my body. He was hard as steel, but it didn’t hurt, he felt perfect, as I’d always fantasized someone would. His movement created erotic friction, and each thrust moved me closer to another climax.
His tongue ran over my neck, and his breath was hot in my ear. One hand slid into my hair while the other roamed my torso and teased my breast. Each moan of pleasure from me earned another nip, lick, or stroke, to the point where I was almost out of my mind from the feelings he was creating in me.
I wrapped my legs around his and he moved up onto his hands, his thrusts increasing in intensity. I stroked his chest and arms, feeling his muscles, his hair, and the heat of his body, enjoying every sensation.
I was able to look at his face again. Martini was watching me, his expression a combination of desire and conquest. As our eyes met, he changed the rhythm, moving faster and harder.
My body responded to his, and we slammed against each other, each hit making me cry out with pleasure.
I was at the edge of orgasm, and I could tell he was finally ready to join me. We were both panting, our bodies in perfect time. My hands tightened on his upper arms as the explosion of pure ecstasy started. I could tell I triggered him as my body contracted around his. He exploded inside of me—the hot liquid pumped out as his body pulsed inside mine and made my orgasm spike each time. This time it was his head thrown back as he groaned from the release.
Our bodies finally stopped throbbing, and he lowered himself back on top of me. I wrapped my arms around his upper body as my legs relaxed and unwound from his. He buried his face in my neck. He kissed me and murmured I was his and he was never letting me go against my skin. Finally he claimed my mouth again, this kiss still erotic, but also tender and soft.
He rolled off and pulled me next to him. I draped my body onto him, my leg hooked over his, and he wrapped his arm around me while I leaned my head on his chest, keeping hold of his shoulder. Somehow Martini found the sheet and pulled it over us.
He stroked my arm and kissed my forehead, and I snuggled closer to him, enjoying the way his naked body felt against mine and reveling in the afterglow.
“You’re mine, you know,” he said quietly.
I kissed his chest. “Only if we do that again. A lot.”
“You drive a hard bargain, but I think it’s a fair price.”
I heaved a sigh. “Good. Nice to know I negotiate well.”
Martini chuckled. “You do everything well.”
“Flattery’s nice. Especially coming from the alien sex god.”
“You say the nicest things.”
“You do the nicest things.”
He moved my head and kissed me, another tender kiss. “I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want it.”
I had a somewhat evil thought, but this statement had sounded like a firm commitment. “How about making love to me again, right now?”
Martini grinned as he shifted me completely on top of him. “Have I had time to mention that our double hearts give us a great deal of stamina and rejuvenation capability not common to Earth men?”
I was right on top of him, and it was clear he wasn’t lying. “Suddenly, I can see you weren’t bragging—once you go alien, you really do never go back.”
CHAPTER 22
I HEARD AN ANNOYING BEEPING. I recognized it as some sort of alarm clock. I didn’t want to pay any attention, but it wouldn’t shut off.
I was on my side with Martini wrapped around me, my back against his chest. We’d finally fallen asleep some hours after we’d left the lounger, exhausted from physical activity and sexual fulfillment. I had no desire to leave this position or the bed, but the damned alarm wouldn’t stop.
I opened my eyes, but there was no clock on the nightstand next to my side of the bed. However, the night-light, or whatever had been dimly on last night, was now turned to high. It was as bright in the room as if we were above ground and had a window without any curtains to keep the sun out.
I felt Martini stirring next to me. “Jeff, can you shut off the clock?”
He yawned. “Nope.” He kissed the back of my head. “Alarms are room-based. Until we get out of bed, it’ll just keep going.”
Great, I was housing with the Extreme Morning Militants. What a joy. “Why do we have to get up now?”
“Time to get ready to go to work.” He moved me around so we were facing each other, kissed me until every part of my body was wide awake and rarin’ to go, and then he rolled over and got up. The alarm didn’t stop. “You have to get up, too. It’s set for all occupants.” He went into the bathroom.
“So it’s going off in your room?” I dragged myself to the edge of the bed and sat up. Not good enough for the Alarm from Hell.
“Nope. There’s no one in my room to be awakened.” He stuck his head out of the bathroom door. “But it’s nice to see you still think I’m hiding a wife somewhere.”
I managed to stand, and the alarm shut off. What a relief. I sat back down and it started again. “I hate that thing.” I stood and leaned against the wall, and the sounds of silence greeted me. At last.
“It’s effective.”
“So’s a snooze alarm.”
“We don’t do snooze alarms.”
“I guessed.” A thought occurred. “Um, Jeff? How are you going to get dressed? Without anyone knowing you spent the night with me?” By anyone I specifically meant my parents. I didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion, but the thought of my father catching us worked like an ice bath—I was wide awake now.
“No idea. I figured I’d just walk down the hall and get my clothes.”
“Just like that?”
He looked back out. “Yes. Just like that.” His expression changed, and I realized he looked hurt. “You don’t want anyone to know, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You feel guilty and ashamed, and you want to hide.”
“What makes you say that?”
He gave me the “duh” look. “I’m an empath. Remember?”
“Oh, right. But it’s not what you think, or feel, or whatever.” I moved into the bathroom and put my arms around him. “All of those feelings are because my mom and dad are down the hall. I don’t want my parents to know, just yet anyway. I’ve known you for about a day, Jeff. Maybe this is normal for you guys, but my parents aren’t going to be thrilled to discover I learned exciting new sexual positions with a guy I just met.”
“Let alone an alien guy you just met.”
“I don’t think Mom cares about that. Dad probably won’t, either, once he gets to know you all. But, um, they don’t really want to know their daughter’s a slut.” There, I’d said it.
Martini put his hands on my shoulders and moved me away. I looked up at him, and his expression was shocked and confused. “You’re not a slut. Why would you even say that? Is it just because it was with me?” There it was, the hurt and disappointment in his eyes again.
I remembered the conversation with Claudia and Lorraine, and it occurred to me that the impression of overwhelming confidence Martini projected might be, at least in some ways, an act.
“No,” I said as gently as I could. “Jeff, I think you’re gorgeous. You’re smart and you’re funny. You’re the best kisser on, I’d guess, two planets. And, just to clear things up, I’ve never been with anyone who had the potential to perpetrate death by orgasm on me before. I’m not ashamed that, I guess, we’re a couple. But it’s different for women than men.”
He looked a little less hurt, but still confused. Another thought crept in. Two in one morning, possibly my personal best.
“How many Earth women have you dated?”
He shrugged. “Not too many.” But he wasn’t making eye contact.
I moved his head so he had to look at me again. “How many is not too many?”
“Counting you?” I nodded. “A handful. Less than ten.”
I managed to keep my jaw from dropping just in time. I’d dated a lot more guys than this. I was a slut. “How about A-C women?”
“Well, growing up, sure, plenty. I mean, over ten.” He swallowed. “But, you know, as they get older, they want something different.”
“Something smarter yet far less attractive?” I couldn’t help it, it was impossible to comprehend choosing Geek of the Year over Martini, unless we were only talking about earning potential. And even if he’d dated over twenty women total, I was still ahead of him. I was the winner of Slut of the Month club, at least in this room.
“I guess, if that’s how you put it.” He still looked miserable.
“Well, it’s how I put it. Jeff, it’s different for women, at least in how Earth folk think of it. A man can date a lot, sleep with someone on their first date, and he’s a stud. A woman who does that is considered loose or a slut, or worse.”
“Oh, one of the Earth double standards.” He sounded both re
lieved and as though it was old hat. “Like all the other prejudices, based on one rule for some and a different rule for others.”
They must have taught them this in A-C schools. He sounded as though he was discussing a concept, not something he’d ever experienced himself. “So, A-Cs don’t have a gender double standard?”
“Nope. We also don’t have sexual preference issues or skin color issues.” He was looking as though he didn’t want to tell me something again.
“What issues do you have?” Reader’s suggestion to ask why they’d been the ones chosen to come to Earth popped into my head. “Why was your family, or whoever were sent here, the ones selected to come to help Earth?”
“We need to shower and get dressed.” Bingo. He obviously didn’t want to answer this, and it was clear it was connected to our prior discussion.
Great sex must have helped my mental synapses—my mind was working as though I’d been up for hours and already had a full pot of coffee. “What prejudice does Alpha Centauri have, and how does it relate to all of you here on Earth? Oh, and I’m not showering or dressing until you answer me, and I think I’m satiated enough that even if you try kissing me, it won’t work as a distraction from this.”
“Damn.” He heaved a sigh and turned away from me, fiddling around with the shower. “Religion,” he said shortly, his back to me.
“How so?” He was tense, I could see it in the way his back muscles were bulging. I rubbed his shoulders, stroked his back, and I felt him relax.
“There’s only one official religion on Alpha Centauri.”
“But you’re all a part of the unofficial one?”
“Right.” He felt the water and stepped into the shower, seemed to consider something, then pulled me in with him.
This was fine, and I allowed him to stall a bit longer by making out with me under the flowing water. Okay, I allowed him to stall a lot longer by making love to me in the shower. Mind-blowing, just like every other time. I really found myself again hoping the room was soundproof, especially because I really got the echo reverberating when he had me against the side of the shower with my legs wrapped around his body during my second of four orgasms. It was a long shower, but I had no complaints about water waste. We even managed to clean off in there somewhere.