Alien Dating Site

Catherine twirled her chestnut brown hair with a long index finger, blowing bubbles with her pink gum, and glaring at the computer screen mindlessly.

"It's always the same bullshit. Either its single guys wanting to get into your pants, then move on, or married guys pretending to be single that give you this big buildup and then break your heart in the end."

Debbie heaved an equally frustrated sigh, and added, "What really pisses me off, though, are the guys that send you pics from twenty-five years ago, before they were bald with tires around their bellies. And then when you meet up with them it's like 'Ugh, how could you misrepresent yourself like that?' And they're like, 'Well I thought that if you got to know me, it wouldn't matter what I looked like!' And I'm like, 'Whatever dude. At least have a few of your own teeth left and be within fifteen years of your damn pics!' Like shit, be real!"

"I know exactly what you mean," Rachel interjected. "Last Friday night I thought I was going out with this young Brad Pitt look alike, but then, when I open the front door, what do I see? Some old smelly fart that hadda be way over sixty. I thought he was a homeless person, lost or something, looking for directions. So then he asks for me by name, and I just about crap my pants, and I say, 'No offence buddy, but just who the fuck are you?' So he says, 'I'm from the dating site,' and I'm like, 'You're old enough to be my damn grandfather,' and he says, he wasn't sure how to upload pics so he just sent one of his twenty year old grandson instead, cause it was already on his computer. Gimme a break!"

"That's nothing," piped up Cynthia. "I meet up at a restaurant two Saturdays ago, with this really cute guy, all buff and everything. So he starts talking and because of his really dreamy eyes and broad shoulders, I'm not really hearing a word he says, but then after about five minutes I realize the only thing he wants to talk about is his ex-wife and how she never gave him a third chance after he cheated on her the second time, and how she took him to the cleaners in the divorce and how he misses her and the kids and wishes he was back with them. So then he orders for me without askin,' saying that pork chops was what his wife always ordered so he's sure I'll like them too. When I tell him I don't like pork he says I oughtta cause his wife used to like it, so then we come to ordering the wine and he's like, 'I changed the glass of white wine that you ordered to red while you were in the bathroom. My wife used to say red wine makes the meal taste better.' When I tell him I don't like red wine he says I oughtta cause his wife used to like it.

So then it's like desert time, and I swear to God if this guy wasn't so damn hot looking I would of fucked off on him already. But anyways, I ask him sarcastically if it would be alright with his ex if I ordered cheesecake instead of fruit for dessert and he says he's already taken the liberty of telling the waitress I don't want any dessert on account of his wife always said dessert was unhealthy. So now I'm about ready to blow a gasket but I keep cool.

"As we're leaving the restaurant he asks me for my half of the bill. I suddenly lose it and tell him that any date of mine is going to pay the bill and that I don't do dutch. So he says that his wife always paid half and I'm like, 'Well then why don't you get her to pay for my half since it was her dinner that I ate.' Then I storm outta there and give him a real good view of both my middle fingers as I leave."

Catherine still twirled her hair, only now she spat out her gum into the ashtray, disgusted it had lost all its flavor. "Men are just like that gum. Sometimes they start out promising but then quickly show you how rotten and flavorless they are. And the mind blowing part, is that whenever you try and show a guy his faults, it's like, 'Why should I change? All other guys are like me anyways, even worse!' Men!"

She lit up a cigarette and began blowing rings into the already stale apartment air.

Debbie frowned. "I thought we agreed there'd be no smoking in the apartment. I thought we agreed that if it's too cold out, on a night like tonight, that you could smoke out in the hall?"

"No. You agreed to that. I only listened. If I'm paying my share of the rent, then I'm smoking in my share of the apartment."

"Makes sense to me," Cynthia mused.

"Me as well," Rachel seconded. "But only cause I got a joint I want to smoke later on. I don't mind sharing if you're game."

Debbie was not amused again. "Drugs in the apartment? If the landlord finds out!"

"The landlord doesn't care," Catherine asserted. "He comes onto me almost every day when I step into the elevator, acting as though he would know what to do with my glorious body if I ever gave him the chance."

"He acts experienced enough!" Cynthia ventured.

"That may be. But Murial down the hall told me, just the other day, that he has a real short fuse. He got her sister all worked up one night after she came home drunk from her office Christmas party. So after he gets her clothes off, and shows her his eight inch woody, she bends over and gets the shock of her life when he starts spurting it out onto her bum after only thirty seconds or so."

"Half a minute? She's exaggerating. No guy's as quick as that!"

"Why would Murial's sister lie? He looks like a real tiger, but when all is said and done, all you're left with is a pussy cat with a limp dick."

"So sad!"

"But true! Not even the good old reliable landlord can get it on."

"Oh shit!" Catherine said, her face reddening in anger. "It looks like I got a virus again. That damn blue popup ad on my computer screen!"

"Let's see? Oh yeah, I noticed that when I was on your computer last week," Cynthia declared.

"You were on my computer last week?"

"Well, I lent mine to this really cute guy at work, but then again, he hasn't returned it yet."

"No wonder I'm getting viruses. What did you do? Go on a porn site looking for naked men?"

"I wish! But with school and work, who has time for that touchy feely shit against your pussy while you watch men show off their bums and abs."

"I do," Rachel said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a monstrous black dildo.

"Wow! Now that's what I call some serious man meat! What did that set you back?"

"Only five bucks at good will."

"You bought a used dildo? They sold you a used dildo? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Used is better. That way it is broken in already."

"Oh God that is soooooooo gross. I can't stay here and listen to this," Debbie said wearily. "First it's second hand smoke you want us to share, then it's a joint, and now it's some gigantic, over-worked dildo with a used personality all its own. I can't take any more of this. I'm going to bed before I start thinking like the rest of you."

"I'll take her turn on the man meat," Cynthia joked.

"What is this fucking shit?" Catherine said, a quizzical look on her face as a strange hue, consisting of a dozen shades of glowing blues, began to glare off her computer screen.

"It happened to me last week as well, that strange glow, and all those funny shades of blue, all fuzzy and...and...it didn't do that last time."

"What the fuck is that?"

"Some kind of strange symbols, like different languages or something."

"I've never seen a language looking like that before."

"Wait, in that empty box. Type in English. See what happens."

"No way! This shit's way too weird for me. That's some dangerous looking virus. It's gotta be. It'll fry my computer for sure if I fuck with it!"

"Never mind, give it here. I'll do it."

Cynthia yanked the computer off of Catherine's lap and typed 'English' into the square then clicked on it.

The fuzzy glowing blue shades remained, emanating a dazzling glow, but the funny looking characters disappeared. In their place, a vast swath of English script began flowing onto the screen.

The caption at the top of the page read, "Alien Dating Site. The most widely used dating site in the entire universe. Over fifty billion profiles and five hundred species to choose from. Our members come from over two thousand planets in over twenty galaxies. For a short time only, we are offering a free one week membership to any earth women wanting to sign up."

"What is this shit, some kind of joke, or crazy ad? Selling what, though?" Catherine asked, clearly bewildered as she yanked the computer out of Cynthia's hands and put it back onto her lap, trembling nervously.

"Why does it have to be a cheesy ad? Or some joke? Why can't it just be what it says it is, an alien dating site?"

Rachel pursed her lips skeptically and moved closer, staring at the screen with her two friends. Then she laughed. "No way! You mean like little green men? Or purple people eaters with two heads? Hey Debbie, better get back in here. The girls are gonna order up some strange looking studs for us to play with. We won't need my dildo anymore."

"Not interested in any creepy shit," Debbie hollered back from her bedroom. "I'm going to bed where there ain't any cancer causing cigarettes, mind messing marijuana, used plastic cocks, or red colored Martians."

"Suit yourself," shouted back Rachel, adding a laugh. "But if I get my hands on a football team from Pluto, I ain't sharing."

The screen suddenly flashed to orange, drawing all three women's attention, and a new caption at the top of the screen read, "Do you wish to fill out a profile?"

"You bet your mother fucking sweet ass we do," Rachel spat out happily, tossing her long flaming red hair to one side, and slipping the silky strands behind her ear so she could get a full, unobstructed view of the screen while sitting off to the side.

"Go ahead, type in a profile, and let's see what happens," whined Cynthia impatiently.

"Wait a minute," Catherine said apprehensively, adding a sigh to emphasize her desire for prudent restraint. "God only knows what we could be getting ourselves into by messing with this crazy site."

"We could probably get some hunky, handsome alien guys with foot long cocks and muscles on their muscles."

"Shhh Rachel, listen to what you're saying? Aliens? As in other planets? Galaxies even? Read what it says. 'Over five hundred species to choose from!' It must all be some kind of weird, sick joke. There is no life outside of our planet."

"You don't know that for sure," Rachel argued. "Scientists can't tell us what's out in space. All they know for sure is that there are billions of stars, and so, it follows there could be thousands of other planets, maybe even millions. The nine or ten planets in our solar system are probably just the tip of the ice burg. There could easily be hundreds of other species out there, just like the ad says."

Catherine stared at her incredulously. "Okay, even if you're right. So what? You just gonna pick some hot alien to go out with, and what? Hop into a flying saucer and hop through galaxies on some hundred-year journey, just to reach his far away planet? It's all so ridiculous."

"It doesn't sound ridiculous to me! Rachel's right," Cynthia seconded. "Why are you so pessimistic and overly cautious. Maybe it's some sick joke, or maybe it's some crazy phony ad. Or maybe, just maybe, it's the real thing. The point is that it's Saturday night, and none of us have dates. We've been disappointed by all the brain dead, lying-lipped, cold-hearted, cheating men here on earth. Why not look at some other possibilities from other planets for a change? Especially since it's all staring us in the face."

"Shit! Are you nuts? Listen to you two? You must be off your rockers! Debbie was right to fuck off to bed. This shit is weird, I tell you. Out of our league! We should just leave it alone. It could be a sight run by crazy stalkers or con artists or identity thieves wanting us to sign up and hand over all our private information by getting us to drool over non-existent, hunky rippling abs with pointy antenna's, monstrous cocks and giant glowing black eyes. Somebody's playing us for fools, I tell you, and I won't be a party to it."

"You already are a party to it, Catherine. This is your computer. This pop up ad hasn't shown up on any of our computers, neither have I heard of any other person on the face of the earth mention it, not at school or work or on the news. It's only on your computer. It's asking you for a profile. Go along and see what happens!"

Catherine was dumbfounded. "I'm not getting through to you two women am I? I want nothing to do with it. Like Debbie, I'm going to bed. But you two feel free to fuck around with this phony alien bullshit if you want to."

She tossed her computer back into Cynthia's lap, hopped to her feet, then trotted off down the hall.

"Well, that'll leave more marijuana and aliens for us, I guess," Rachel mused with a shrug.

The screen suddenly changed to yellow, and a golden glow began to emanate throughout the room. A strange humming noise followed, and more words now flashed onto the screen. "In order to qualify for the one week free trial, you must upload your profile within the next earth hour. Only one profile is allowed per free trial offer."

"It's asking us for a profile, but only one. Which one of us should fill it out?"

"Why don't we both fill it out?"

"It says only one profile."

"Yes, but we're two earth girls," Cynthia corrected. "Soooooo, we're a package deal. Better that way, don't you think? We can experience it together and watch each other's backs while we hook up with two hot male alien hunks."

"Three!"

"Why three?" Cynthia queried.

"I might want extra," Rachel said, adding a giggle.

Both women then laughed uproariously.

"Let's see, oh this font is too small for my eyes, you do it?" Rachel asked.

Cynthia sighed happily then straddled the laptop in between her two milky white thighs.

A sliver of curvy bum caught Rachel's eye. "Have you ever thought about doing a girl?"

Cynthia stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and said "what are you saying, that you think about doing girls?"

"Sometimes. I experimented a few months back, kinda by accident really. Got myself in the middle of this threesome. We were supposed to be servicing this chick's husband, if you know what I mean. And well, the chick, who was really pretty and oversexed by the way, well, she starts coming onto me. She starts kissing my tits and rubbing my ass and before you know it, her face is down on my clit and her finger is shoved up my twat. It felt really weird, but kinda nice at the same time."

"So then what happened?"

"Well, the guy gets all grumpy and threatens to leave, and sooooo, being a girl that doesn't like stiff, giant cocks to go to waste, I gently pry myself away from the hot, pussy sucking babe, and launch my lips onto his super handsome face while he fills my insides with all glorious eight inches."

"Sounds like a real hunk."

"Girl, you don't wanna know. He was gorgeous. But his wife, or should I say the chick that was coming onto me, she won't let me near him again on account of I gently pushed her off me that time."

"Too bad you couldn't have ended up doing both of them," Cynthia lamented.

"Maybe me and you can experiment sometime?" Rachel asked, placing a seductive hand on her naked thigh where the skirt rode up.

"Maybe. Let's get this profile out of the way first, shall we?"

"Hmm. It is asking for pics."

"Since it's a single profile of both of us," Cynthia surmised, "we should take a pic together, don't you think?"

"Great idea. Let's do it topless. We both got nice breasts."

"Naww. I never do even partially nude pics on any of the dating sites I've tried," Cynthia protested. "I don't like exposing myself to the public like that."

"Yeah, but you're talking about earth dating sites. There are no human guys on here, as far as we know. Who's gonna see you? Some red guy with four arms from Mars?"

"Hmm. Okay, let's take our tops off."

"Ahhh, bras too," Rachel said. "We might as well go all the way. Alien guys might like to see a human chick's tits. It might turn them on."

"Get closer. We'll use my cell phone then upload. You're not smiling."

"Sorry, take another one...cheese!"

"Hey. That one really turned out nice. Let's use that one."

"I agree. Let's upload it," Rachel concurred.

"Okay, gender?"

"That's easy, female."

"Gender sought after?"

"Even easier. Male!"

"Hmm, type of relationship sought after, 'one male,' 'two males,' 'three males.' 'Gang of males.'

"Mmmm, gang of males sounds yummy."

Cynthia laughed at her friend. "Fat chance of me letting you type that in. And don't try for 'three' either. No extra until we find out what the regular is."

Rachel laughed as well. "Okay, name?"

"Cynthia and Rachel."

"No, no, nooooo. Which alien is going to be familiar with earth names? Let's write something catchy, something to show we're promiscuous so to speak."

"We don't want to come across as total sluts," Rachel protested. "What about, 'two sexy earth woman, looking to meet two nice alien men for fun times.' That sounds inviting, doesn't it?"

"Very. But that's for the next line, under 'intent.' Cynthia protested.

"Hmm. No, I don't agree. That's exactly what we should write in there, I'm sure."

"So now, all of a sudden you're an alien dating site expert?"

"Just type it in, will you?"

"Fine, I'll type it in," Rachel agreed. "Only now it's asking for intent."

"So click on one of the options. See, down a few lines, and to your left."

"Ahh yeah, you're right. I see what you're saying now. Okay, let's see. 'Online chatting only?' 'Casual only?' 'Dating?' 'Intimate encounter?' 'Long Term?' 'Seeking life time relationship?' I'm not sure I like these."

"Hmmm, I don't like any of them, either. For an alien dating site I would have thought something a little more exotic."

"Well, there is intimate encounter."

"Yeah, I thought about that. But we don't know anything about any of these alien guys. What if we hook up with two of them who are expecting to get their rocks off, but then we don't deliver?"

"No still means no!"

"Maybe on Earth no still means no. But in other galaxies, if you let some hot-blooded alien believe you want an intimate encounter, he might not be willing to settle for anything else. And there may be no way to stop him."

"Fine, what about the 'dating' one? That seems a little broader in scope without really saying too much or committing to anything."

"Yeah, the dating one is more like it."

"Hmmm, let's go to the next question."

"Intoxicants allowed during date?"

"I guess they're asking if we drink or do drugs?"

"Hmm, that's a tough one. If we say yes, we might come across as being raunchy but if we say no, we might look like a couple of choir girls."

"Hold on, there are sub-headings to choose from, 'often,' 'occasionally,' or 'never."

"Put occasionally."

"Right. Next one, 'according to the standards of your species, how would you define your appearance? 'Very attractive,' 'somewhat attractive?'' 'Plain?' Unattractive?'

"Definitely not unattractive."

"Nor plain, that's for damn sure."

"Somewhat unattractive? Fuck that, we're hot! Super hot, and it shows in our pic. I'm putting down very attractive."

"Hold on. We don't want to come across as being over self-confident. For some guys that might be a turn off."

"Yeah, but we don't want guys thinking that there are women on earth a whole lot sexier than us. We are truthfully very hot, indeed. Long legs, super breasts, slim with great curves, pretty faces. Fuck man, we're stacked!"

"I guess I can't argue with that. Yeah, definitely stacked. Sooooo, very attractive it is."

"Length of ideal first date?"

"Hmmm, I guess the box saying two to three hours would be good."