Thank Your Lucky Stars Ch. 05

It should be made clear, before more words are seen,
This story is littered with actions obscene
The characters, hot,
Some human, some not,
But all are most certainly over eighteen

This story's inferred from an unfounded rumor,
Containing some elements sick as a tumor
Like incest and porn,
French, cuckolding, corn,
Sci fi, Sue, cops, aliens, worst of all, humor

She'd never minded that he was so much older. Twenty-three years. It was even an aphrodisiac, she'd said, but he knew there was more to it than that. There were so many layers upon complicated layers between them and within them, separating them from others, and joining them to each other. It was too complicated to say anything as simplistic as "she loved him because of this" or "he loved that about her."

It was complicated.

He remembered the feel of her soft, firm breasts in his hands, with outrageously hard, hot nipples poking into his palms. Her whole torso had often heaved for him with tortured gasps for breath, while writhing in a frenzy that he sought to subdue, even as he provoked it. He recalled how she begged him to tightly hold and squeeze those perfect breasts as she exploded in his arms, grinding her wet clutches down onto his cock. With time and patient effort, she would come for him with a force that had taken years of practice between them to achieve — repeated, marvelous practice and that one special ingredient that their bond entailed, that made it wrong and right and impure and perfect.

The thrill that she had brought him, and that he'd once brought her, was unearthly. No one could understand it. No one even tried to understand, or could be expected to. They'd accepted that long ago.

The clarity of the memory slowly faded, and then, too, the memory itself, lost in the meandering vagaries of a fading, addled mind. To fill the void, he pulled out the wrinkled sheets of paper to read some more.

Interlude 5: The Alien Perspective
The snatching of bodies is no easy feat
Neuromalous binds are steps one must repeat
There is some fine-tuning
And synaptic pruning
Required before the conversion's complete

So the acts which so many abhor and detest
The acts that our species would label "incest"
In this sorry case
Of creatures from space
Must therefore result in a "family love fest"

The alien sharing Kay Brown's sex perspective
Hailed from a reptilian insect collective
Where everyone screwed
Within one's own brood
"Incestuous" was an unneeded adjective

In fact, in his social caste, it was quite crude
To have sex with anyone outside one's brood
If they weren't mother,
Or father or brother,
Or at least your sister, your sex act was lewd

Now Thomas Brown's extraterrestrial friend
Was a large protozoan evolution dead-end
Who, being unsexed
Left him quite perplexed
As to what's within reason and what would offend

When Kay Brown and son shared a genital connection
The creatures within them engaged in reflection
Without good foundation
In this situation
To relate to the ins and outs of his erection

{{The male seems quite taken with his loving consort}}
{{Yes, that is quite true, based on his blaring report}}
{{For me, it feels odd
To switch from seedpod
To an alien form with a cock that is so short}}

{{I have no perspective}}, said the thing with no source
Of knowledge of things like hot, wet intercourse
{{Oh, trust me, it's small,
Almost no cock at all,}}
Said the insect whose penis was long as a horse

{{His cock is quite soft, too, compared to my kind,
Our tough exoskeleton makes cocks well-lined
With chitin so tough
That sex can get rough
And the females lack cunts, so they're split like a rind}}

Beside them, dispassionate debate ensued
Between alien minds whose perspectives were skewed
By alternate cases
Of sex between races
So they felt the sex here was nasty and lewd

The first was robotic, with mechanical motions
While the second was ichthyoid, born in the oceans
One springs, gears, bolts, shims
While the other just swims
Through the semen of males; They had conflicting notions

For the robotic "it" incest was not a new story
One always chose mates from the mother factory
One just traded parts
And mechanical hearts
Then put them together, like assembling a lorry

While the scaled, fishy alien could never know
Where one's semen came from, or where it would go
Ejaculate floated
The female got bloated
And whose kids were whose no one ever would know

{{It's strange how they seem to so harshly inflict
Such strong thrusts, as if they're in mortal conflict
They wrestle and bite
And so seem to fight
With unkind embraces that tightly constrict}}

{{Yes, the sex is quite odd; I can't fathom this trick
Where the male would impale her as if with a stick
The act is so sleazy
It's making me queazy
If they don't stop soon I think I will be sick}}

And so it continued, the thoughts, and the screws
Of differing species with differing views
On what one should do
Not to mention with who
And what would be proper, and what broke taboos
Phase V — Target : Emma Lou
Emma Lou made it home by the fifth day, plus some
By then her whole family had fucked and had come
To maintain their ties,
These alien guys,
Had to keep them all coming until they'd succumb

The aliens figured that three weeks or four,
Would be just long enough to suppress them for sure,
So fuck, come, and wait,
Was the Browns' daily fate,
Until Emma Lou walked right in through the front door

Emma Lou stumbled into a strange, twisted scene,
Her father was fucking her sister, B. Jean,
That is, little sis,
Was enjoying a kiss
With her father, jackhammering like a machine

Meanwhile her mother and brother were locked
In a kiss and position that quivered and rocked,
They came up for air,
With cold, empty stares,
Before they returned to an act that just shocked

In time they all disengaged, stood up and stared
The looks on their faces left Emma Lou scared
Like no one was home
She felt so alone
So she made her way backwards as fast as she dared

She didn't get far before Father stepped in
Assisted by Thomas and the rest of her kin
They wrestled her down
Hard onto the ground
Right there on the porch where she prayed for her sin

Before her, mere inches from Emma Lou's face,
Were two odd, strange objects that looked out of place,
The first one was humming,
The second was thrumming,
Which when put together made Emma's heart race

The humming one was a machine of some sort,
With shiny gray sides and a USB port,
A small dish was sitting,
Designed for emitting,
On top, while beneath small legs gave it support

The thrumming one was also glowing, as well,
She knew it was foul from the non-fragrant smell,
It looked like a pea pod,
Sized up for a small god,
But what it was for, it was too soon to tell

She realized, in horror, there were pods by the scores
All stacked in the windows, the shelves and the doors,
They were on every stair,
On the floor, everywhere,
She gasped, as she waited, resigned, on all fours

In true doggy style, her father impaled her,
Then after her father, her own brother nailed her
Her sister licked clit,
Her mother sucked tit,
But try as they would any orgasms failed her

See, first, Emma Lou was exhausted as hell,
And second, the girl was too frightened, as well,
Beyond this, you know,
As a full-fledged nympho,
That it was just too hard to ring Emma Lou's bell

Emma Lou was left kneeling on the floor on all fours,
Accepting her fate like the cheapest of whores,
Beside her they waited,
Her family debated,
On who should go next to try fucking her more

Emma soon found what this group had in store,
They'd fuck her with not one, two, or three, but four
Two hard cocks were drilling,
Four wet mouths were thrilling
But her zombified family did not know the score

Her mother and sister sucked pussy galore,
While her father and brother fucked her to the core
With four lovers at play
As sweet Bobbie might say
Emma Lou thought that this could become one long "bonjour"

Her family pleased her, combined, like a swarm,
Or a whipping and whirling Sahara sandstorm,
They attentively lingered,
Her privates were fingered,
But all that it did was help Emma get warm

Emma Lou waited as their long cocks burned
She didn't resist, no affection was spurned
She could patiently wait
For their lust to abate
When she could and would show them the tables were turned
Lost in his reading, he was startled into glee by the moment for which he'd been waiting with such anticipation.

She swept into the room, with a large cardboard box balanced awkwardly ahead of her in both arms. The room brightened. Everything became sharper, crisper and clearer. Everything crackled with an unseen, unfelt energy. The world exploded into bloom for him, turning from nothing into everything in an instant, like the moment of the creation of the universe.

He couldn't wait to give her the papers to read. The thought was the first on his mind, and one that he couldn't suppress. Maybe, subconsciously, he was trying to postpone opening the box. He couldn't handle the disappointment if it wasn't true.

The first moment after she had settled it on his small bed, he held the papers out to her in silent insistence.
A writer must conjure, contrive and emote
Express and then stress about each word he wrote
Since he took the time
To make these lines rhyme
The least you could do is to bother to vote