Corriander

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A couple's brush with aliens.
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arghjac
arghjac
78 Followers

Authors note. A warning to all readers, everything that follows is of course pure fantasy, it is not my, or my partner's life style; neither are we promoting it as normal practice. As a new contributor to Literotica I naively allowed public comment to be enabled, thinking that I would receive at least constructive criticism, sadly this was not the case. To the anonymous scumbag that denigrated my upbringing and parentage I wish only eternal damnation, to others that wish to hide behind anonymity without giving constructive criticism, please don't read any further. To those that want to talk seriously and constructively, I welcome feedback, and assure you that all sensible communications will be answered. My stories are placed in the relevant categories with some thought, those in the group sex category involve multiple partners, usually with one woman, those in the wives category involve wives with multiple partners. My 'husband's' whilst technically 'cuckolds' are never 'wimps' or 'subservient'. My super heroes all have big cock's and some I admit are black, that does not mean that I believe the black race is superior, neither do I believe that once fucked by a black man there is no return. I am a non-racist white, who loves and respects his 'faithful' partner but, like most of the population of this world, I have fantasies. You now know what follows, if it might offend you, please do not read on!!!

*

Well, first of all, let's get this straight, I'm not an alien. I know Megan said I was weird, and maybe that's true. But, I'm not an alien. At least I don't think so. My cock is two feet long and eight inches in diameter but that doesn't make me an alien. Anyway how can she talk, 'cos her cunt can take me, all of it. I've seen the head of my cock make her chest bulge above her rib cage. Now that not exactly normal is it? Talk about pot calling kettle black!

Sorry, I've gone off the point already. Let's calm down and re-iterate.

I'm not an alien, Megan might be, but she has got lovely big and supple tits and a cunt to die for, so maybe she is and maybe she's not, who gives a fuck!

Now. Where was I? Ahh, yes. She only thinks I'm weird because she has just read my story. Well actually, it's not because of the story that she thinks I'm weird; it's because of the persons in it. Well not the persons as much as the first and third persons. How she can get worked up about grammar when she's just given birth to 30 million babies I don't know? So if anyone's weird, it's got to be her! I know that doesn't make her an alien, anymore than me, but you must agree it does make her weirder than I am?

Sorry I digress! (This is called literary licence; I'm really trying to keep you alert and interested. So don't get impatient, all will be revealed in good time.)

Now where was I? Ahh, yes. Megan called me weird because, when she read my story, she said it was confusing, as I had mixed my persons!!!

Mixed my person's I said, 'is that some kind of cocktail?'

Anyway, Megan said, 'You've written half of the story in the first person, half in the third person and half in the second person!!!' (Now judges use your maths, at least you've got to agree, she's weirder than me?)

So, just to make sure no one can accuse me of not proof reading, I read it again. And, I must admit, when I read it again I was more confused than when I had written it.

But let's get a grip on reality here! I have been through a traumatic few hours. Maybe it's only right to be a little confused, nevertheless, that doesn't make me an alien!!!

Sorry, I know you haven't got a clue what I'm talking about, have you?

I think it'll soon become self explanatory. Where was I? Oh, yes I had re-read the story and had realised that my persons were all mixed up. So, I spent an hour re-writing the story in the third person, but after I had read it through again, I thought, there are more than three persons in it, how then would anyone know which one was me!!! I wasn't going to have that. Why should I let an alien get the credit for my story? So, I thought, because there are only two real people in the story, me and Megan, then the aliens don't count! So, I re-wrote the story in the second person. But, all of a sudden I had an awful thought, maybe Megan was an alien, and therefore I was the only real person. Fuck it I thought, I had better re-write the whole thing in the first person just in case. Now you might think that this whole diatribe is merely a figment of my imagination... No. I have evidence, yes it's true. I am fortunate to be able to call on the 'moderator', Dale. Who the fuck is the moderator, I hear you ask? Well, we don't know much except she wears dark glasses and rides around on a motorbike. I don't know anything about her tits, and anyway if Megan knew I even thought about another woman's tits, she'd blow a fuse. Not that I think she has fuses, but you know what I mean. I did wonder whether Dale was short for Dale lama, some form of religious guru, especially when you read her holy texts, like I have. Anyway I digress once more. The moderator can vouch for the fact that I have re-submitted this text at least a dozen times, as she edits for me, so come on admit it, Dale!!! If she doesn't agree with this, then maybe she's an alien too!!!

Sorry, I've gone of the point again I know.

Right, let's examine all the evidence! I'm not an alien, even though I have got a two foot willy and I'm a bit weird. Megan and Dale might be aliens. I don't know about Dale but Megan has got big tits so we'll let her off the hook for now, but there again she did give birth to thirty million babies last night. (Strictly, this isn't true, I have re-written this story so many fucking times, that last night is now the night before, the night before last, and who knows when it's going to be finished if Megan, Dale and all the other 'persons' in my literary life keep putting their fucking oar in!)

Well I'm glad we've got that sorted out!

Sorry, have I introduced myself? Wait a second! I'll just look back to check.

No, I haven't. I'm Mac, the first person!

I know what you're thinking! You think I'm schizophrenic! You think this is really a story about my multiple personalities! Well don't judge me before you've read it, and please realise that I have been under a lot of pressure recently.

Well it all started on Monday evening. Sorry, that's not quite true. It started twenty-five years ago in 1979, but I didn't know that on Monday, at least not early on Monday, at the start. So even though the real start was earlier than the story starts, my story starts on Monday and the real start comes later in the story. Fuck me, I really wish I hadn't started this!

Sorry have I introduced myself? Oh fuck! Is this deja vous?

Monday December 13th 2004. Just before supper time.

I was slaving over the cooking range. I had promised jacket potatoes, salad and fresh trout. Like an idiot I had hoped I would win the contest tonight. I don't know why, we had been competing for twenty-five years and I'd never won yet. Looking into the fridge, I knew that Spag. Bol. was the only thing that I had the ingredients for.

'Oh darling, I've got some fresh basil in my car, I'll go and fetch it.' Megan shouted. She was naked and fresh out of the bath.

'Fuck the basil, what about this bloody coriander? It's been here a week and it's congealed into an amorphous mass,' I said to hide my exasperation at losing yet again.

I grabbed the sticky gelled vegetable gluck and threw it into the bin.

Megan was a herbivore, vegiburger, who the fuck knew what she was, but she was not going to be put off by me, a mere 'House Husband,' telling her that she couldn't have basil in her Spaghetti Bolognaise, even though I am a doctor of letters. (All right I know you don't believe it, you think that the nearest I've been to a doctor is Dr Martin's boots – but I forgive you!)

'I'll just pop out and get it.' She said.

We live in a charming cottage on the outskirts of Dunston, a quiet village in South Dorset. Quiet, but this was just before six on a winter's evening, and even Dunston wasn't that quiet. Even so, Megan went to fetch the basil, wearing only a gold lame baby doll night set.

Seeing my wife acting like this would normally have given me a hard on, but knowing how scatty she is, I knew that it was in fact an ordinary, run of the mill day and anyway I'd only just fucked her. This in a round about way is why I was cooking the dinner. Anyway, I didn't want to get another erection and burn my two foot long cock on the range. A few seconds later Megan returned.

'That randy bugger next door kept tooting his horn at me and I wasn't anywhere near the road!'

'Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that your tits are hanging out of your top darling.'

Megan looked down and noticed her nipples were clearly visible.

'Oh dear, how did that happen?'

She busied herself cleaning up the dining room.

'Where's the fucking basil, the Spag. Bol's almost ready, I can't hold on any longer!'

'Oh sorry darling, I couldn't find it. Just give me extra mushrooms'

At this point I felt like slitting my wrists. But, then again, my dizzy wife is the most exciting woman on the planet.

I walked into the dining room, ripped her top off and grasped her beautiful breasts. I sucked, first on the right nipple and then on the left, until they were both rigid and full of blood. My mind was fully occupied and it was seconds before I realised that Megan was shaking me.

'Darling, the kitchen has just exploded!'

I had thought that the commotion was another of Megan's mind blowing orgasms; she comes like an express train! I looked up and saw that we were both covered in dust. I walked into the kitchen and saw the devastation. It looked as though a bomb had just gone off. I called the police and fire brigade; neither had heard any reports of unusual incidents, and not wanting to sound like an idiot I declined to take the matter further.

It took over an hour to clean the kitchen up. The microwave wouldn't work so I had to reheat the bolognaise in a saucepan. At last we were sitting at the table and sipping our twenty-fifth glass of plonk when suddenly Megan gasped! She pointed to the doorway. My head turned instinctively and I froze. Standing in the doorway was what I can only have described as three 'Gonks', covered in green hair, much the colour of the herb Megan had been hoping to have with her meal. They had small eyes, small ears and small noses. They're lips were full and puckered. In a flash, the leaders lips extended and shot across the room. They stopped a foot short of Megan, divided into two separate mouths and fastened onto her teats.

Megan, who at fifty-three was several years into the menopause, immediately began to lactate. She loved her breasts to be sucked, but even I was stunned when she began to knead her breasts to aid the flow of milk.

No words were formed, but in our minds, we heard the alien speak.

'Sorry about the kitchen, we clipped it as the flying saucer reversed. We have waited twenty-five of your earth years for your eggs to mature. Tonight, regeneration begins.'

I thought it was rather rude to speak with his mouth full of my wife's breast milk but I was a little distracted and allowed this social faux pas to pass without comment.

In a flash the memory of that evening in the summer of 1979 returned to me. We had been on a walking holiday and were camping on a small site next to a beautiful lake. We had eaten a fine meal in the pub that serviced the camp site, and we were walking off the effects of the food and beer by strolling around the lake. We were a mile away from the site and the area was deserted. There had been a blinding flash and the next thing that I remembered was that an alien, much like a green puffy ball, had latched onto Megan's mind and was bending her will, instructing her to undress. All of a sudden the alien took on human form. 'Human Form,' mind you, not human size. If he was meant to be imitating human kind, someone had got their facts wrong. He was ten feet tall and built like a brick shit house. (Sorry to those American readers who don't know this term; this means very, very big!)

'Fuck me!' Megan said, coming out of her trance.

'Thank you, I will,' the Alien replied, no words passing his lips.

In a flash, Megan was on her back in the heather, with her legs wide, wide apart. They needed to be wide as the alien had a prick three feet long and at least nine inches in diameter. He moved between Megan's legs and seemed to piss on her gaping cunt. 'Its 'celestial ointment,' a cure-all/come lubricant,' he explained. He used some kind of mind transference, and conversed in his mother tongue 'Crapase', which for some unexplained reason both Megan and I understood.

'I'm afraid we can't make the implantation instrument any smaller, he said pointing at his cock. The best method we've found is to make the implant area as supple as possible, hence the ointment. I'm afraid it's still going to hurt at first but as you get used to it I think you may start enjoying it.'

'What are you going to implant?' I asked out of interest.

'I've got 10 million eggs for her womb. 10 million for her belly and ten million for her gut.'

Even Megan was shocked. 'Could she really take a cock of that size in each of the three planned orifices? 'You want to put that where?!!!' she screeched in fluent crapase.

'In your mouth, cunt and bum,' he replied nonchalantly.

'Oh, that's what I thought you said, you'd better get on with it then,' Megan replied, laying back in the heather and nearly turning herself inside out getting her legs even further apart.

'Hang on! Don't you think we deserve some sort of an explanation?' I intoned.

'Shut up!' Megan shouted getting impatient. 'Can't you see the alien's busy?'

'Oh don't worry I can implant and explain at the same time.' He moved between her legs and the head of the giant penis changed before our eyes, into a pair of hands, which proceeded to open Megan's cunt lips up and burrow inside. First two fingers of each hand, then all four, and then the thumbs as well. She was being double fisted and was wailing. I wasn't sure whether in pleasure or pain.

'We are a race that cannot incubate our own young. Your wife has been chosen. The eggs will mature in her body for twenty-five years and then we will return to fertilise them.'

'Well that's fine for you, but what about us?' I asked in exasperation.

'Oh, you'll go on as normal. Tomorrow, your only memory of this will be as a hazy daydream in your otherwise dull, hard life. You'll probably be embarrassed to even talk about your memory of this little interlude. Your wife will be a bit sore tomorrow, but I'll implant a thought in her mind that she has been overdoing the walking.'

'But what about children of our own? With a 'cock' that size fucking her brains out what hope have I got of getting my small willy inside her, and feeling any friction, She's going to have a cunt the size of a bucket.'

He looked at my dismal eight inch appendage and nodded in agreement. I had always been so proud of it. Easily the biggest of all my friends. Megan had loved it too. She did a thousand squats over it every evening after her bath, thrusting her cunt down until my balls had buried themselves into the groove of her arse. It was a competition. Could she make me come before she had finished her 1000 squats? The prize? The loser had to make dinner. I quickly became an accomplished cook!

'Yes, I'll have to do something about that.' The alien said looking at my quickly softening cock. 'I'm afraid I won't be able to return her to her previous size, but I'll do my best. I can make her muscles more robust and give your cock a few inches more in length and width.'

He applied a good coating of celestial ointment to my cock. (In truth maybe a bit too much)

'Oh, and by the way, she won't even notice the implants, and they won't affect her own reproductive system. In twenty-five years the eggs will have doubled in size but even then it will look as if she has got even curvier with age.' By now the huge cock was almost buried in Megan's cunt. 'Right,' he said matter-of-factly. I've passed her cervix and I'm into her womb. I'll blast the eggs into the wall lining. They'll remain there until they've matured. I'm afraid she's going to have an almighty orgasm, can you hold onto her tits, they're going to fly about all over the place?' I grabbed her nipples and pinched them hard in order to get a good grip. The alien began pumping his enormous weapon into Megan. I was amazed that her body could take something of that size.

Thank God for celestial ointment! I thought.

'Yes, its good stuff isn't it?' The alien replied reading my mind. 'I always carry a good helping; you never know when you're going to need it. It's very good for wasp stings.'

I wasn't sure whether he was kidding, or even if aliens had a sense of humour but all of this was pushed to the back of my mind as Megan began her orgasm. It was like being on a roller coaster; she thrashed about and seemed to be humping herself onto the alien's huge cock, trying to get even more of it inside her. This was of course impossible, even with celestial ointment. She had at least two foot of the cock inside her already. In fact, I was leaning on her tummy, holding on for dear life, and I could feel the monster bell end thrusting up against her rib cage. No wonder she was screaming, my ears and mind were deafened.

'Sorry about that. We haven't been able to perfect an easier method of actually implanting the eggs. They always come like that. It'll be even worse when it comes to the stomach and the gut.'

Without wasting time the alien withdrew his still erect cock from Megan's cunt. It was very wet from Megan's juices, but there was no spunk on it. Again he read my mind.

'I'm just the implanter, you won't see the fertilisers for twenty-five years, I think they're booked for late 2004. I'm just carrying the immature eggs, they'll have the seed. Of course I'm very good at my job, I never waste any eggs; they'll all be implanted in their designated place.'

'Will they all mature and become babies in your 'form'?'

'Yup, every one.'

'How can she gestate and deliver 30 million babies?'

'Oh we don't have babies like you. The nearest I can explain it to you is, hum, well I suppose it's like a sort of frogs spawn. She'll be fertilised, that takes about ten minutes for each bank of eggs. Then about five hours later she'll start giving birth. That'll take a further half an hour. Then, they'll grab the babies and be off, 'like rats out of an aqueduct.' He explained that his favourite film was the 'Life of Brian!' We had a very interesting chat about which parts of the film we liked best. Mine's always been the stoning and the bit where they list, 'What have we got to thank the Romans for? His of course was the bit in the middle where the aliens whisk Brian away into outer space.

Whilst this discourse was taking place Megan had received another dose of celestial ointment in her mouth and throat. Her jaw opened an amazing amount, and she began swallowing the huge cock. I could see her gulping and her throat swelling as the cock passed down her gullet and into her stomach. I had seen Deep Throat but this was mind boggling. Ten minutes later after loads of thrusting by the alien I was once again directed to sit on Megan's stomach and grab her tits. As the time of egg placement had arrived.

'This is going to be a more powerful orgasm as the eggs are coated in a special material which protects them from the hostile environment of her stomach,' the alien explained. 'It's some kind of hormone and it makes them go off like a rocket, same with her gut in the next implant.'

arghjac
arghjac
78 Followers
12