Precious Cargo: Alien Romance (Forgotten Cargo Book 1)
Page 9
Raan already told me how I ended up at the brothel. “I thought that was just Hadr who did that.”
“No, Delk got his commission as well. I’ve seen the communication records. But don’t worry, justice will be served.”
“What do you mean?”
“The next time the Silver Scrapper docks at an Inspection Station, Delk is going to be arrested and his ship confiscated.”
“How? For what?”
“For half a dozen things he shouldn’t have done in the past three years. Things I have evidence of, and that I have sent to the Cooperative Enforcement Division.”
I whistle. “Wow. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Raan tilts his head, amused. “Do I have a bad side?”
Not from where I am sitting. I smile and say, “You were careful, though, not to implicate yourself, I assume. I don’t want any of those Enforcers to track you down on Bataa.”
Raan says calmly, “If I was that stupid, I would deserve being caught.” He returns to his buying and selling, and I turn to my own data screen which is attached to my left forearm.
Raan has programmed it so that it responds to English vocal commands. The idea of a computer talking to me weirds me out a little, especially since I saw 2001: A Space Odyssey a year ago on a date – although technically that was over six hundred years ago. So I asked Raan to make the computer not talk to me, which he did. Instead, it prints out English responses on the screen. “Provide data on Earth history, twenty-first century,” I say to my data screen.
The screen shows me various articles and photographs of historic events, leading up to a series of wars. First China versus the United States, then Europe verses China, and finally the USSR entered the fray as well.
I read about nuclear bombs wiping out New York City, Moscow, London, Los Angeles and Washington, D.C. in early 2081. I can’t bear to read any more. At this point, I ask the computer to play some Beatles songs. I need to mellow out.
After a few minutes, the computer shows a viewing of the Beatles appearing on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964. This is definitely a blast from the past. I was a teenager at the time, and I remember watching The Beatles on that magical Sunday night. My mother teased me at the time saying, “They look like girls. They all need to get haircuts.”
The song ends and Raan notices that I’m crying. “Are you all right?”
I sniff and wipe my eyes with the back of my hands, hoping that I don’t make my blue skin dye smear. “I’m fine.” I press the data screen to make it go black.
“Is that the kind of music you like?”
I nod. “That isn’t my favorite song, but it reminds me of home.”
“I am sorry that you have lost your home, but I hope you will find happiness on Bataa.”
Raan has a good heart, and I don’t want to cry all over him. I say, “Have you heard about the Beatles?”
“No.”
“Do know much about Earth culture?”
“No, why should I? Humans are a sedentary species.”
From a few things he and others have said, I can tell that there is a sharp distinction between sedentary and travelling species. I ask, “Why should it matter if a species is sedentary or not?”
He looks at me as if I have two heads. He says, “Travelers are more intelligent, obviously. If a species can’t travel in space, it says something about their mental capacity.”
“Humans made it to the moon. We were travelers.”
Raan smiles at my earnestness but doesn’t comment. I can tell that he disagrees with me but is too polite to say it.
I persist, “And eventually, given a few more thousand years, I’m sure we could have started traveling around the universe, as well.”
“Instead, your kind destroyed itself.”
Well, there is no arguing with that.
He sees my crestfallen look and says, “Obviously, I think you are intelligent and a credit to your species. Every species has good and bad in it. I don’t think any less of you.”
“But you think I come from a crap species.”
He reaches over and touches my cheek, tenderly wiping away a tear. “I think you are marvelous.”
He then leans forward and kisses me. I hold my breath, not knowing where this will lead. I have so many questions about our relationship and what it means. I know that Raan cares for me. I return his kiss but let him take the lead. He kisses my lips, my jawline and my throat. I feel him licking my collarbone with that forked tongue, and suddenly, I feel myself grow wet between my legs.
It’s like he is the only one who knows how to arouse me.
He growls deep in his throat and he opens my blouse to bare my shoulders. Again, his fangs brush the skin where my neck and shoulder meet.
“If you want to bite me, that’s all right,” I say.
He pulls back, but not before I feel a protrusion poking against my leg.
“Pardon me,” he says awkwardly and turns away.
“What is wrong? What are you doing?”
“It is nothing.”
I am not going to let him get away this time. “No,” I say sharply. “You can’t turn on and off like a traffic light.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s not nothing. Every time we make out, you pull away. Is there someone else I should know about? Are you married or engaged?”
“No. I already explained that Namvire do not do that.”
“Then what is it? Am I disgusting to you?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then why do you pull away when I can tell you are interested in me.” I motion to his pants where there is a noticeable bulge.
He looks embarrassed. “Namvire do not experience sexual arousal.”
“Well, that’s a lie.”
Raan’s gaze meets mine. “You are right,” he admits. “But sexual passion is considered vulgar and lower class. I am embarrassed that I can’t control myself. But there is something about you that is so appealing – but no, I will not blame you. It is my weakness alone, and I must deal with it.” He runs his clawed fingers through his hair, obviously disturbed.
“Why is it a weakness? Why is it all right for me but not for you?”
“You are human; I am Namvire.”
I feel like we are speaking two different languages and that the translator is not helping at all. “Okay, let me get this straight. You think that you are better than me – that only tacky vulgar species like humans experience sexual arousal.”
“I do not mean to offend you.”
But he did. In a bold move, I reach over his pants for his cock which is still out of its slit. “If I’m vulgar, so are you.”
He groans. “Please don’t do that.”
Now I feel worse. I let go of him and sit back on my heels on the couch, no longer touching him. I don’t want to be a creepy girl who doesn’t respect his boundaries.
“Explain it to me,” I say. “Officer Hadr said something about your people being conceived through artificial insemination. Is that true?”
“For most of us, yes. There are probably a few outliers or travelers in small towns who breed by sex, but that would be less than one percent. Every society has its rebels.”
I have never heard of something so odd. “How does that work? When two Namvire decide to have a baby, they go to a fertility clinic?”
He smiles and I feel that he is comfortable with me again. “No, that would never happen. When a Namvire female gives birth, she gives birth to a litter – normally four nestlings at a time, but sometimes it is only three or as many as five or six, but that would be very rare.”
“Good heavens. Do you hatch from eggs?”
He laughs. “No. We are live births. We are mammals, just like humans.”
But so different from humans. “Tell me more. That day on the Silver Scrapper, you mentioned your mating rituals. Tell me more.”
“It is quite simple. When Namvire males reach adulthood, they attend a collection cerem
ony. There, they are aroused, and sperm is collected and stored until it is needed later.”
“Like a group orgy?”
He makes a face. “No. It is much more civilized than that.”
“All right, if you say so. And what about the women?”
“When a Namvire female is ready to conceive and start a nest, she goes to a doctor and is put into heat.”
Like a dog? But I don’t say that out loud.
He continues, “She is given sperm that she has purchased earlier.”
“Purchased?”
“Yes. Every female tries to purchase the best sperm possible, based on the male’s intelligence and physical attributes.”
“So a female could purchase your sperm?”
“Technically, yes, but that would be highly unlikely.”
“Why do you say that?”
“My family is successful, but none of the House of Vasuren males in the past few generations has been particularly inventive or brilliant.”
I think Raan is being overly modest, because I consider him an excellent specimen, but I don’t fully understand his culture or customs. “So are you telling me that the average Namvire male only feels sexual arousal once in his life?”
“That is correct. That is the way it should be. Naturally, it may happen at other times, but it is considered poor taste to act on it.”
No wonder his people are called No Balls. I say, “I think that’s sad.”
“No, it is right and proper,” he assures me. “Sexual urges are often combined with aggression. In our ancient days, the Namvire were passionate and violent. It is only by suppressing those feelings that we have become the great civilization we are today.”
“With no sexual release.”
“Correct.”
“That’s why you don’t have wives or girl-friends.”
“Yes. Those relationships are unknown in our society. Our family unit is based on our nest. Our siblings are our closest relations, and we are raised by our mother and uncles.”
“So you will never marry.”
He says, “Brunes marry. Katolls have mates. The joke is that Namvire have bank accounts, but that is not true. We have our nest.”
I think I understand Raan better now. “Aren’t you ever frustrated?”
He looks uncomfortable again. “Never, until I met you. And now it is a reoccurring problem.”
“So you are attracted to me.”
“Yes.” His gaze seems to burn into mine. “You make me ache. I think things I should not think. I feel things I should not feel.”
He makes me feel like a femme fatale. “Is it a sin to have sex? Would it be immoral to act on those thoughts?”
“Not exactly. Some might consider it so, but most Namvire would consider it foolish and vulgar.”
“Do you know of any Namvire who has had sex naturally?”
“I don’t know of anyone personally, but there are always rumors of a classmate or a distant cousin who decided to go against the cultural norm. If a Namvire chooses to act in that way, he should have the decency to do it discretely and not bring shame on his nest.”
I shake my head, astonished by what he is saying. “I know it is your culture, but I think it is wrong. Sex is biology – it is the way mammals are supposed to procreate. And now, thanks to you, I know that it can be one of the joys of life.”
He smiles. “I am glad that I have brought you joy.”
“But you won’t have any yourself. You won’t participate.”
“No.”
It feels strange to be with a guy who will never would put his sexual desires first. Who has no sexual needs. Some would consider Raan to be the perfect boyfriend.
But not me. I think about how kind Raan has been to me. How he has treated me and the other humans with honesty and respect. He’s already saved my life and is giving me a future, spending a ton of money and risking his own life.
I know I’m falling for him – how could I not? – and the idea of him going through his entire life having only one orgasm breaks my heart.
It’s not fair.
From what he says, I won’t ever be his wife or his girlfriend, but I want to make him happy. I choose my words carefully. “What if I want to give you an orgasm as a gift? What would you say to that? No one needs to know. We are on a spaceship, hurling through space. We are alone and we can do whatever we want.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
RAAN
I have never been so tempted in my life. Sylvia’s offer makes me think of forbidden things – viewings I’ve seen where human females put their hands on Namvire cock. Or their mouths. Viewings where Namvire copulate with human females. In the brothel, we pretended to do what I would like to do now. I want to push her down on the bed, spread her legs and claim her with my aching cock. I want to bite her neck and mark her as mine.
Mine.
I shudder as the blood rushes to my cock, making it protrude and feel like a rock again. “It is not right,” I say, trying desperately to maintain my control.
“Right according to whose culture – yours or mine? Because in my culture, it’s fine, but if you don’t want to, I’ll –”
I press my mouth to hers, stopping this conversation with a kiss. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, over and over, making her moan as well. Then I say as I pull back, “Whatever you want to give me, I will accept.”
She sighs and pushes her hair out of her face. She says, “Very well. Sit back and let me do this one thing for you.”
I obey, sitting on a couch and she kneels on the floor before me.
She smiles, which relieves some of my nervousness. “Are you going to be all right?”
I feel foolish, not knowing how to continue. I confess, “This is all very new to me.”
“If anything makes you uncomfortable, let me know. And if you want me to stop, just say so.”
I nod, thinking it very unlikely that I will want her to stop.
She motions towards the front of my pants and says, “Clothes have to go.”
I stand up for a moment and quickly disrobe, taking off all my clothes. I then sit on the couch again, naked before her.
She touches my thigh and my eager cock springs upward. “You’re very ready.”
“Is that bad?” All my life I have been told that it is bad for my cock to be exposed. That I should ignore this.
“Not at all,” she says and wraps her fingers around my cock. Her hands are small and the ends of her fingers do not quite meet her thumb.
“So big,” she says, murmuring her approval. “So hard.”
I groan.
Then she rubs her hand up and down, pulling my length from my slit to the tip. Her fingers tease the head of my cock, and I start to shake, my breath coming faster.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” she teases me. She runs her fingers over a vein that runs along the top of my cock.
Nothing in my life has ever felt this good. I notice that there is now some liquid beading at the tip of my cock. I have never seen this before.
Then Sylvia leans forward and touches the tip of her rounded tongue to that liquid.
Brix me. Pleasure shoots through me and I start to shake.
“It’s all right,” she says, encouraging me, and then she takes my cock into her mouth, sucking on it, drawing me in to the back of her throat.
She can’t take it all, but what she does take feels fantastic.
I am the luckiest traveler in five galaxies.
She looks up at me, her gaze meeting mine as she sucks on me and rubs her tongue underneath my cock.
I clench my hands into fists and suddenly I am exploding into her mouth, shooting my seed.
She swallows, but there is too much and some of it spills out on her face and down her chin.
But I can’t stop.
I am overcome.
She holds onto my legs, steadying herself as I continue to thrust into her mouth.
Finally I still, gasping for breath.
Sylvia sits back on her heels.
“Was that too much?” I ask. “Too soon?” I don’t know if I should have lasted longer.
“No, everything is fine.” She wipes at her mouth and chin with my shirt and looks at me with a satisfied smile. “How do you feel?”
“I feel like I have died and gone to the Great Cliffs.”
“Great Cliffs? Is that your heaven or Paradise?”
“Yes. If we have lived an honorable life, we are supposed to go to the Great Cliffs, where we will lie in the sun and have everything we need at our claw tips – food, water, and –” I hesitate to explain further.
“What? Tell me? No, let me guess, are there beautiful Namvire females available, too?”
I nod, embarrassed.
She smiles. “So, in your religion, you’re not supposed to have sex on Bataa during your life, but it’s a reward in the afterlife?”
“I am not religious. I don’t believe all the ancient traditions of my people. I think most religions are stories given to teach us values and help us not fear death.”
“I agree.”
She stands and stretches her arms. I think I have never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. I am so grateful to her, appreciative and humbled by her.
She then sits beside me on the couch and I shift our conversation toward her. I want to know everything about her. “Tell me about your human religion.”
“Well, there are a lot of them. I was raised Christian, although I didn’t go to church all the time.”
“What do you believe will happen in the afterlife?”
“If I’m bad, I’ll go to hell and be burning forever, but if I’m good, I’ll go to heaven where I’ll play a harp and sing God’s praises.”
“Like the human in the pods with you – Martha?”
Sylvia says, “I don’t have a voice anything as good as hers, but I suppose in heaven that might improve.”
I reach over to touch her beautiful face, caressing her cheek. “But enough of that. What about you? Do you wish to have an orgasm, too?”
She reaches down and pats my cock which is now flaccid. “This time was just for you. But next time, sure.”