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© Copyright 2017, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved
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Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are over 18-years-old. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
Cover created by Veronica Sloan. Cover Photo © Can Stock Photo Inc.
* * *
"Bring me closer," I whispered.
I taught him to kiss while I hung in the palms of his hands. It was messy at first; he thought he was supposed to suck on my whole mouth. Laughing, I pulled away, then placed my finger between our lips. I held his muzzle in place and ordered him to just let me kiss his lower lip. I started with gentle pecks, then moved on to a feisty nibble. When his lips began to slide over mine and investigate the contours of my smaller mouth, I invited his tongue to play. He tasted like grass, like spring, like the sweet rain that nourished his homeworld. His tongue was so large that I thought he'd be sloppier, but Aurelias was a quick learner. He didn't ram the thing down my throat, he took his time exploring my own human flavor. Drool leaked from the corners of my lips as I tilted my head and closed my eyes. (I couldn't stop myself from petting his long snout--it was too cute to resist!)
A string of that drool followed me as I leaned back to commend him. "That tongue is going to come in very handy when we move on to the oral lesson."
His big blue eyes were dazed as his upper hands played with my hair. I would have said he looked weak except his lower hands were still holding me to his chest like I weighed nothing at all. He swallowed and tried to regain some of his Hisanian composure. "Oral, yes, I...I read your report on that. You mean, to pleasure you with my mouth, as you did to me?"
I gripped the thick sternomastoid muscles that ran from his jaw to his shelf-like clavicle. Could he feel my body warm? Could he feel me moisten through my already soaked panties? I know he felt pleasure, as my caress induced him to close his eyes and snort. "Yes," I said. "It serves no procreative purpose whatsoever."
"But it feels good," Aurelias murmured.
"Mmm," I purred. "Like kissing."
"And human women like kissing."
"We do," I said. "We like kissing."
"Then I will attempt to kiss you...down there," he said. "Though my height puts me at a disadvantage."
I was way ahead of him. "Put me on that table over there," I said, pointing to the large marble slab.
He stared at it like he'd never seen it before. "Oh! But, that is my work station."
"I know," I laughed. "And you're working so hard to understand my fragile human needs, Mr. Ambassador."
He made his chuckling sound. "Human sarcasm is the hardest inflection to comprehend, but it is beginning to grow on me."
I clung to his long torso as he rose from the circle and strode to his marble desk. "Maybe you're just more receptive to it because you know you're getting some," I said. He let me slide from his lower arms to the table's polished surface. While he cleared his papers aside, I hooked my thumbs into my panties and peeled them down my thighs...
To Pat, who likes the weird ones.
I wasn't your average civil servant. Some girls grow up to be bureaucrats, some even grow up to be President of the United States. My work in the public sector was a little more private.
When the aliens came to Earth with one thing on their minds, they created a need for a whole new kind of ambassador. You know that old saying, "It's a dirty job but someone has to do it?" I tell people it's a dirty job...but you can always find someone who gets off on it.
In the year 2030, humanity was at peace with its alien invaders. At least, it was a kind of peace. After a year of war, we finally understood each other. The transition was messy. Regime change always is.
They promised us independence if we cooperated. They promised our men would be set free if we extended our open hands and open hearts. You see, they needed us to survive. If we could learn to love them, emotionally and physically, there was hope for a new, combined species. It was my job to learn the various mating rituals of their allied races and to show them how we do things on this side of the Milky Way.
I used to be shy about my kinkiness. I used to think nothing on Earth could satisfy my weird desires. In a way, the Invasion was the best thing that could have happened. I'm no longer the shy girl I used to be. Earth, and my libido, are no longer alone in the universe.
Now Earth is a planet of infinite and illicit possibilities, a planet of bizarre and enchanting temptations. It is a planet of sex.
The alarm jolted me out of a sweet dream with a harsh, metallic squawk. My face buried in my pillow, drool sticking to my cheek, I growled at the thing to shut up. "Snooze?" it asked, drawing the word out into a smooth, melodic note.
"Oh, now you care," I grunted. I had reprogrammed the thing multiple times and still its voice wavered between nails on a chalkboard and a babbling brook. "No," I sighed. "Jus'lemme sleep..." The alarm bleeped off and I, my eyes still closed, tried to fool my body into doing the same. The bed was warm, my silk chemise felt amazing on my nipples, and when I flipped my pillow over it was like being kissed by a cool cloud (one without a big, wet stain on it). Mercifully, wonderfully, I felt myself drifting back into nothingness. I'm a princess, I thought drowsily, a pretty princess cursed to sleep forever. Oh, now that would be a sweet dream...
Just before I left the waking world, Philbert croaked in my ear: "Ra-chel!"
I smooshed my face into my pillow. "No!" I moaned.
"Ra-chel!" he croaked.
I seized my pillow and slammed it over my head. "I'm not listening!"
His hideous voice followed me under, along with his smallest tentacles. "Ra-chel!" he croaked, and sent them skating over my neck.
I slapped at the slimy appendages and kicked my feet under the covers. "Go away, Phil! Five more minutes!"
"Ra-chel!" he wheezed. His little suction cups sealed onto my neck and gently tugged me back to the surface.
"Ugh! Fine! Just let go. I swear, if you leave a hickey..." With a chastened gurgle, the tentacles slithered from my throat and over the sheets. I glared at them, and the alien quivering on my bedside table. "You're an asshole," I muttered.
He offered an indignant "Ra-chel!" in response.
"Yeah, yeah," I sighed. I pushed his green tentacles aside to get a look at the clock underneath his mantle. When I realized what time it was, I moaned anew. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner, you asshole?"
He drew his tentacles into his mantle and shook like an angry fist. His skin flushed a bloody red with spinning purple dots. "Ra-chel!" he wheezed.
Laughing, I grabbed him up from the alarm and slid him over my shoulder. "Oh, you did so good, baby," I cooed to him. "Mama was cranky, huh?"
He pushed his smallest tentacles through my hair and pressed their tips to my temples. The familiar shiver scorched down my spine, like a sudden shift in temperature that hits you from your nose to your toes. It always left me feeling like I'd just sneezed, or was about to. After the initial fuzziness, his words came through loud and clear. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Miss. I am not a child and I shall not suffer such belittlement!"
"You're plugged into my temporal lobe, Phil. You can literally feel how much fun it is for me to make fun of you."
His whole body wriggled in exasperation as I slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Perched in the nook between my neck and shoulder, his tentacles expressed that exasperation through every point of contact. I didn't just feel him, I felt the weight of his emotions. "I must protest," he thought through my skin. "I am the higher intelligence here and still you treat me like, like, like--" I felt him search my mind for an earthbound simile that expressed his outrage. As much as I enjoyed that tickling sensation, I decided to make it easy for him. I sent him a mental image of what I intended and he reacted to it with predictable irritation. "A PUPPY DOG!" he screamed in my mind
"Mmhmm," I murmured. I squinted into the bathroom mirror and used a tissue to wipe the sleep from my eyes. There we were, the ultimate odd couple. Me, tall and brunette and with a very crooked smile; he, a quivering mass of spongey, shifting chromatophores. The sun was just peeking through the frosted glass that overlooked my shower stall and twinkling on his clammy skin. The red flowed from it like an ocean tide, revealing a deeper shade of violet underneath. From behind my ear, one of his several yellow eyes glared back at me.
"I am not your puppy dog," he thought into my brain. (It's amazing how much more petulant you sound when your listener can actually feel your wounded pride.)
I tilted my head. "But you're so cute," I said. "Especially when I do this." I tossed my tissue in the trash and reached back to rub the fleshy nub behind his eye.
The eye rolled in its squishy socket and a wave of pleasure passed between my temples. "N-now, stop that!" his voice barked in my brain. "I am d-dishonored!" But the more I caressed him there the farther away his voice sounded. When I finally relented, his skin flashed red again...then mellowed to orange. "You slept through your alarm twice," he said. "I was only doing my duty to--"
"--to ensure my sleep cycle approached a 'modicum of regularity,'" I sang back in his officious tone. His tentacles gripped my shoulders in a fit of pique. "Phil," I sighed, "part of being human is ignoring what's best for us. You should know that by now."
I pulled my panties down and sat on the toilet while he continued his uptight harangue. "Miss, are you attempting to hang a philosophy onto what is clearly laziness? I am not a simple cephalopod!"
"No, you're the best cephalopod in this galactic quadrant," I cooed. "Who's my slimy little man? Yes he is!" He started to protest in my head again but I just reached back to massage his eye. This time the warmth spread down my neck and made me shiver as I finished relieving myself.
Unfortunately, I caressed him for a little too long. When I finished we were both uncomfortably aroused.
"I don't understand what you mean by quadrant," he said quietly.
"It's a Star Trek reference," I said. I left my panties on the floor when I stood up, uncertain whether I should attempt breakfast or just hop in the shower.
Reading my thoughts, Philbert offered his two cents: "The Secretary's aide will be here in approximately thirty minutes. You spend an average of nine minutes in the shower, nine minutes applying your makeup, and a cumulative nine minutes dilly-dallying. If you're willing to take a breakfast pill, you should be ready by the time she rings the doorbell."
"When did you learn 'dilly-dally?'" I asked.
"When you made it a necessity," he replied. "If you give me a general impression of how you intend to dress today I can put some outfits together."
"Thank you," I said, and sent him a visual list of what I had in mind.
"And do you expect me to pick up the underwear, too, or is that where it lives now?" We both shivered as he broke the connection. He slithered down my shoulder and climbed my thigh to the floor, surely thinking he'd gotten the last word in. He was fast, but I was just able to pick up my panties with my toes and drape them over his mantle. He left the bathroom with an incensed "Ra-chel!"