Contaminated

by Amanda Milo

  “Skynan?” I slur through worried but entirely uncooperative mouthparts.

  Skynan’s muscles begins seizing—and so does my cardiac muscle. “Skynan! NANCY!” My hands clamp over her arms, and her shaking intensifies.

  Oh no—NO! She’s caught in a fit of the Lʊʊnjaɠ shakes like I’ve only ever seen in the worst cases. But it’s not as if she can spontaneously develop Lʊʊnjaɠ from me, so is this from my seed plug? How do I stop it? How do I save her?!

  Panicked, I begin to move back with the intention of separating us.

  My crozier doesn’t like this.

  Skynan likes it even less. “Nnnnuh!” she squeaks sharply—and she yanks me back over her, her foot adding pressure on my posterior to bring our groins flush.

  “OHMIHGORKKKK—!” I bark as fire rips through me on the inside.

  Skynan screams into her garment as my crozier punches a second seedpod inside her—and she wraps her legs around me tighter, raising her hips, grinding us together. My crozier feels like it’s turning white-hot and the contents of my skull are surely melting.

  Panting, Skynan breaks out of her attack and collapses beneath me, and the same sheen that makes her skin sparkle also makes it stick to my plating. Carefully, I try to peel up from her enough to peer into her face. “Are you hurt?” Everything in me relaxes at the sight of her massive, thrilled smile.

  “No, Erreck,” she sighs happily. “I’m amazing.”

  “You are,” I agree.

  She laughs breathlessly. “So are you.”

  “Oh,” I say, cheekbones swelling. “Thank you.”

  Skynan gazes at me, her expression turning thrilled and even softer, if possible.

  THUD-THUD!THUD-THUD!THUD-THUD!THUD-THUD!

  There’s a banging between us, hard and galloping. It’s probably a bad sign, it probably means we’ve killed each other in our drive to mate like mindless beasts, but it’s really, really difficult to work up concern at the moment.

  If we die here, I have no regrets.

  Skynan gasps and her hands fist over my plating. Her entire body experiences a wracking shudder.

  “Nancy!” I shout helplessly. There is something wrong—

  “It’s—” she gasps, before she covers her mouth, muffling an oddly exciting shriek. (What is the matter with me? My female is currently in the throes of what appears very like a small death and I want to sexually attack her—again.)

  Nancy throws back her head, shuddering under me again. “It’s a goood thing,” she cries far, far too loudly.

  At a loss for what else to do, I can only brush back her hair with one hand to soften what I do with my other hand: I cover her mouth. “Shhh, my beautiful—”

  She’s caught in another fit of shaking, her muscles trembling, her eyes rolling back, and my concern ratchets up a few thousand degrees.

  Her hands close over my wrist, but it isn’t until I feel that her lips under my palm have formed a smile that I ease from holding the makeshift sound barrier from her face. When her eyes focus once more, she manages to speak. “Erreck, I’m not hurt. I’m experiencing some seriously good feelings. Normally, a girl gets aftershocks for a little while after an orgasm. But… whatever you’ve got going on? I’m getting the full, real deals happening to me over and over. I don’t know why, but,” her eyes lock on mine with a lust-fueled fervor that does nothing to quell my body that never quite stopped hungering for hers, “THANK YOU.”

  I hum in understanding. “Your system is reacting somewhat similarly to Genneӝt female then; absorbing the seedpod is supposed to be a pleasurable process. Your reaction certainly seems—” I pause and roll us, so that I’m on my back and now she’s shivering atop me, with me still locked inside her, “to be—”

  I clap my hand over her mouth just as she starts to wail, her insides clamping around my thickness, “intense,” I finish, grinning.

  When she finishes for the moment, she’s nearly become a liquid. “Oh my gosh!” she gasps when I remove my hand. “I’m going to keep orgasming like this every time we have sex? For real?”

  I find myself unable to stop the smile that spreads over my face, pleased to the marrow with the glow of satisfaction surrounding us. “It would seem so.”

  Skynan kisses me then, and she keeps her lips flush against mine when she’s hit with the next wave of her pleasure, feeding me her sounds as her insides squeeze me to a fuller hardness.

  I draw my fingertips over the smoothness of her back, somehow still enjoying the bareness here, despite her not having a dorsal in sight. Because Skynan’s appearance could be no deterrent in the face of my infatuation.

  Infatuation. Ha! That’s too mild for what I feel. No: this is love. I’ve never felt it this strongly, not for anyone, but I recognize it with a certainty that steals my breath almost as completely as Skynan’s incredible, wet drugging kisses.

  Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

  The racing, pounding beat over and behind my sternum plate is slowing. I put my hand between Skynan’s bi-globes, the twin lumps of extraneous tissue shuddering so captivatingly with her heaving breaths. After a moment of holding my hand against her, I realize what my side of the thumping beat is—and I realize what her side must be. “Is this the rhythm of your cardiac muscle?” I ask, full of awe and wonder.

  “Ibbtizz,” she mumbles through slightly kiss-swelled lips, the smile in her voice clear. Sluggishly, her hand moves to my sternum so that our arms are crossed as we touch over the cardiac muscles of one another. “Can I feel yours… oh! There it is.” I love the dreamy look in her eyes, the relaxed muscles of her face as she near-drowses on me.

  I give her a moment to enjoy herself before I shift her so that her sternum is resting over my ear depression. The sound of her life-pushing organ after such a strenuous workout is a lovely, lovely thing. “I’ve never heard one up close before,” I share. “Yours over my ear makes me feel warm on the inside. Full. Happy.” And now I empathize with the couples who know they can have no future together, yet they risk everything, even the future of any accidental offspring, to stay together.

  It’s not because they’re careless.

  It’s because they care for their lovemate so very much—and damn the genetics, because they’re helpless to be apart from the one being who makes their cardiac muscle soar—makes their rhythm sing.

  Skynan may be a Clear to my Carrier, or galaxy only knows, she could have her own human version of a dreaded Carrier copy hidden inside herself—but even if I weren’t sterilized, I would want her for the rest of my forever anyway. I want her so badly, I don’t care about consequences, or rules, or where we live or if one of us has to hide. I’ll go where my Skynan goes, do what she does, for the rest of my days, if she’ll let me.

  I want that.

  I want this.

  My arms come around her, and tighten firmly enough that she mewls slightly.

  When I move to release her, she mutters, “No, keep holding me. I like it tight.”

  “You’ve made me intensely addicted to a tight grip too.”

  “Ha, ha, my alien jokes—thank you, I think.”

  I stroke her sticky, rapidly cooling human skin. “It is a compliment, my nugget of affection.”

  Nancy snorts. “If that’s an endearment, we can stick to Skyto and Skynan, just saying.”

  I set my snout into the crook of her neck, content to simply lie here and experience her pleasure-ricochets with her. My crozier shivers and fans out with each of her inner-shudders.

  Instead of basking in it, Nancy shoots up, her pupils dilating, her limbs beginning to tense and tremble—and her insides are experiencing much the same, quivering along the length of my shaft in a way that makes me grit my teeth. Her breath saws out of her. “Erreck, I can’t help but notice your, ah, ‘crozier’ is nice and stiff and… petting me. Would you be interested in a second round? I can do all the work—”

  Folding my hands behind my head, I give her body a long, suggestive perusal. “I’ll agree to lyi
ng still for this second ‘round’ if you’re amenable to me taking back participation for our third?”

  With a half-laugh, half gasp, Skynan slings her hips forward, rocking on me, stealing both our breath so that there’s no more talking. Not for the next three rounds.

  CHAPTER 18

  I feel changed as we enter the laboratory. The daycycle has dawned more beautiful than ever before. Not that I saw the literal dawn-event; we rise too early for that—we must in order to sneak Skynan into the lab.

  We end up doing some extra sneaking once we arrive.

  Skynan beckons me to check on the status of the waste receptacle bio-bags, which are stored in the utility closet. She actually draws me inside of it, shutting the door after us.

  I stare down at her. “I feel as if you’ve almost lured me here.”

  Skynan smirks up at me. “What do you mean almost?”

  We fornicate in the utility closet.

  It ends with me on the floor, on my back, with Skynan collapsed over me, twitching every so often as she’s hit with pleasure-shudders. Her kneecaps are resting on her folded garments so that she could straddle me without injuring her sensitive floor-contact points whilst doing it.

  “How ingenious,” I’d said, marveling.

  “Wait ‘til you watch me move in reverse cowgirl,” she answered, her hands landing on my shoulders and lightly squeezing. Then she turned herself around.

  Watching her ride me for half of the mating in reverse cowgirl was something far, far beyond ingenious, I can promise you. Knowing that she’ll be feeling the effects of my spendpod for parsecs as she tries to concentrate on work later is just plain satisfying. I have no doubt she’ll achieve studiousness—but she’ll be thinking of me with every pleasurable secret shudder.

  I’m petting her hair when she sighs happily and glances around us. “Simmi has been busy.”

  “The floor is gleaming,” I agree.

  “We should probably get back out there before he needs to open the closet and get out more cleaning supplies.”

  “Mmm,” is as close to an agreement as I can manage, because she’s sitting up, and her bi-globes are at my face level.

  Let’s just say it’s a blessed thing that Simmi cleaned the floor in here, because Skynan’s hands slip off her garments when she’s down on all fours, teaching me to take her from behind.

  It’s glorious.

  ***

  “That closet is disgusting. What could you two possibly have been doing in there for so long?” Simmi asks when we exit.

  Skynan squeaks and shivers and instantly I’m glaring at Simmi, because he may not be able to guess what she’s experiencing, but I know.

  He stares at us suspiciously, but when he says nothing, I admit nothing. And Skynan? She sends me a look so private I want to knock Simmi to the floor for having seen it.

  Of course I restrain myself.

  Simmi doesn’t seem able to decipher Skynan’s private look; he cocks his head, peering at her even when she turns and sashays to her workstation. She experiences another small shiver once she gets there.

  Simmi narrows his eyes, glancing back and forth between us for a moment before he shakes himself and straightens in his seat. He addresses us both. “As agreed, Skynan has stayed long enough to synthesize her blood as a nutrient and soil additive for plants. As you’re aware, this has made our Morsuflos grow rapidly, expand hugely, and produce more potently.” He glances between us again, but this time, his look is more measuring, and for me… almost pitying. “I suggest Skynan take her leave, and soon.”

  “WHAT!” I shout.

  Skynan though, doesn’t look outraged. She’s immediately looking torn.

  Seeing this, Simmi nods to her and for the moment, ignores me. “Again, as you know—in our research of her effect on the plants—and thereby the reactions of our subjects—we hit upon the splendiferous discovery that Skynan’s blood has altered compounds in the plant makeup itself. But Erreck,” Simmi says urgently, turning fully to face me alone. “I’ve been putting extra time in on this, and I’ve found that her blood supplies something that’s CURING Affecteds, not just treating them.”

  “That’s…” I start, “That’s wonderful!” I think of all our little fighters. My gaze moves beyond Simmi to Skynan. “That’s amazing.”

  Simmi blocks my view of her. “It is,” he says gravely. His forehead tips in my direction, and instinctively I brace for whatever he’s about to impart. He gives my new bioluminescent markings a meaningful glance that seems to say you poor fool. Because in Genneӝt, it tends to happen when a male’s system considers itself happily mated. “And it’s about to cause massive shockwaves in our community, you know it will. It’s going to be nearly impossible to keep our secret ingredient,” his long antennae tips to Skynan, “from being found out. And then they’re going to want to farm her blood, not let you breed on her. Maybe... maybe if you weren’t a Carrier, they’d consider allowing you to reproduce Skynan—and assuredly, they’ll want to reproduce her,” he says, eyes wide with heavy meaning, “but realistically, they aren’t going to select you as the prime genetic specimen to compliment her. So.” His eyes drop from mine, and he nictates several times before he stands, and forces a smile for Skynan. “I suppose this is the beginning of goodbye.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “This calls for a celebration!” Simmi exclaims, pushing away his chair so he can access the lowest section of his desk.

  “You’re raiding your extravagance drawer?” I sputter.

  Skynan glances between him and me. “What’s that?”

  “Where extravagances are stored,” Simmi replies.

  “Okay. Tell me about extravagances. You guys don’t seem to have many of those.”

  I make a face. “We can barely afford to. They cost far too much.”

  Skynan’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

  Simmi hums. “The steeply-priced extravagance fee system was instituted to keep the dorms clean and free of clutter because then residents are forced to mostly stick to the absolute basics.”

  Previous to Skynan’s arrival, I focused my attention on affording extravagance beverages and foods. “We receive an extravagance stipend every payment cycle. It’s a privilege to purchase extravagance in a dorm.”

  Skynan’s watching Simmi pull out crackers and seasoned ğurk as if they’re made from precious alloys. At their price, they might as well be. “What’s considered ‘extravagant?’” she asks suspiciously.

  “Anything not a standard-issue fixture is an extravagance,” Simmi answers.

  “Simmi has a drink and food dispenser that adds fizzles to any liquids he processes through it, for example,” I tell her. Her eyes are almost troubled as she listens. “It isn’t nutritionally necessary but it makes the dining experience more enjoyable. Therefore? Extravagance.”

  Simmi passes out a barrage of delights.

  “Thank you, Simmi,” I say, touched to the cardiac muscle because I know this is no light thing for him to part with.

  Simmi’s tail waves my words away and he bites into a cracker. “What’s next for you, then, Skynan?” he asks her in a rare, jubilant mood. “Will you be returning to your homeworld?”

  My cardiac muscle feels as if it drops to my feet. NOT YET! Say Not Yet!

  I need more time! I want to be able to convince Skynan to join with me permanently—because for me, we may as well be fused together physically. From now until the end of my lifespan, I’ll want to be fused together with her physically. I didn’t make the decision to mate with an alien lightly, and what we’ve been doing has been far more than merely sharing pleasure; I’ll never be able to part from her now. I just need to convince her not to part with me. The chance to woo her suddenly feels like sand escaping through my fingers by the aid of a whipping wind. Not yet—please, I need more time to coax you.

  The beautifully recent memory of her stretched out on top of me, her head resting on the unforgiving surface of my sternum, how right she feels against
me: I won’t survive if she leaves. I can only see the bleakest of futures for myself. No Skynan to liven up the motions of my daycycles. No Skynan to smile with. To laugh with. To cheer up. To defend from Simmi. To rescue Simmi from when she’s feeling feisty and mischievous. No Skynan to snuggle against me so sweetly when her system pulses slowly with pleasure from my seedpods.

  It’s not only that I’m going to miss the nebulas out of her. It’s that I cannot stand the thought of missing her at all, not even for a moment.

  “Erreck?” Skynan asks suddenly, her voice holding concern.

  Swallowing hard, I focus on her. “I’m sorry. I was deep in… thought.”

  Skynan’s brows are pulled close together. “Yeah. It looked like it.” She bites her lower lip in that way that always makes Simmi cringe, but secretly, I completely enjoy observing. “You okay?”

  I self-evaluate. “I suppose I’m feeling mostly satisfactory,” on the surface, “but I wouldn’t say I’m feeling especially good, or exceptionally well.”

  Simmi, in a rare moment of empathy, or maybe just kinship, pushes his ğurk towards me. “Have another helping.”

  “Thank you,” I say, although I’ve lost all appetite, even for extravagant food.

  Skynan studies me in silence for a moment while I glare down at a cracker. “Erreck, are you upset at the thought of me leaving?”

  Her saying the words—just laying them out like this—it makes my sternum feel as if it’s cracking in two. “Yes!” I hiss. “I am.” And without warning, intense pain flares inside me—nothing physical, this is all a manifestation of my strong, strong feelings for a cloth-covered, soft-skinned, hair-and-skin-cell-shedding alien female.

  My alien female.

  Who will be leaving me.

  If she doesn’t want me beside her when she goes, I’ll never… I’ll never see Skynan again.

  I’ll never again look forward to the daycycles with excitement, where we’ve coexisted so easily in an office space where I used to frequently consider sealing my coworker in a chemical vat whenever he became an irritation. She won’t be my secret partner as we sneak to and fro from my dorm, where we reside so companionably together. And no more lying next to Nancy during the darkcycle, where I get to watch over her, and be the only one who knows that she twitches in her odd way for approximately ninety decimals per sleep cycle.