Alien: Lineage

"You know," he began, recoiling a little as another rope of goo fell to his bare chest. "I would really have appreciated a little more time to train and socialize you..."

Her head twisted on her slender neck to peer lower, one of her hands slowly reaching for his zipper. Knowing how it worked now, she pulled it lower, opening the garment past his groin.

"Oh God," Jones grunted, lurching as her fingers brushed the bulge beneath his shorts. "I get that you're lonely, but I don't think we're a good match."

When he tried to wriggle out from beneath her, she placed her hand on his chest again, her touch gentle but firm. The unspoken demand was obvious enough. Stay. When she succeeded in peeling back his elastic waistband, he felt her smooth skin brush his shaft, the creature pawing at his flaccid member. He felt a droplet of her drool fall to his belly, and even with those razor teeth hovering so close to his most sensitive anatomy, her insistent probing soon had him swelling.

The xenomorphs had a powerful drive to reproduce, and that clearly hadn't been engineered out of the chimera. Species XX-121 was capable of reproducing with any lifeform that could harbor an embryo, from cattle to humans, and they weren't picky about their partners. That brutal life cycle had obviously been one of the first things to go, as Wey-Yu couldn't have their new weapon breeding out of control and turning its handlers into hosts, but the team hadn't taken any steps to replace it with anything. Chimeras were intended to be vat-grown as needed, and they should be sterile, but nobody seemed to have informed Twelve of that fact. She was encountering a friendly male for the first time in her mature life, and he might smell just the way she liked if her human heritage was anything to go by.

Despite the situation, he couldn't help but marvel at the softness of her skin as she gently cradled his growing shaft in her hand. She was so dexterous - nothing like her violent, erratic cousins. Droplets of her slaver fell to his cock, sliding down its length as she came closer, her sensory organs mapping him.

Perhaps wanting to get a closer look, she swiveled in place, keeping her head level with his groin as she swung her hips over his face. She was upside-down relative to him now, crouched low, her long tail trailing out of view above him. A strand of fluid dripped to his cheek, but it wasn't from her mouth this time.

As he glanced up, he saw her shapely rear hovering over him. Her cheeks were remarkably human, tight and firm, sculpted by muscle that befitted her athletic build. Jones could even see the shadow of her dark carapace through the semi-translucent flesh, like glimpsing a silhouette through frosted glass. Between her smooth thighs was a neat little sliver of pink, its rosy, flushed color contrasting with the pale skin that surrounded it. Fluid with the same viscous consistency as her saliva dripped from her puffy lips, swollen with desire to the point it looked uncomfortable, the silken folds of her loins just visible between them as they glistened in the light. A fat, wobbling rope of that slime oozed down her inner thigh, Jones finding himself following it with his eyes.

A shiver of unexpected pleasure passed through him as she extended her pharyngeal jaw, using it to lick him like a tongue, its surface far softer and more flexible than he would have imagined. It was coated in her drool, making its touch slippery, Twelve keeping her sharp teeth mercifully clear.

Gazing up at those perfect lips, inflamed with passion and soaking wet, the intrusive thoughts started to grow louder. He was probably going to die soon anyway, and it wasn't like there was anyone around to walk in on him, so why not?

He tore off a glove and slid his bare hand up her thigh, feeling the silky texture of her skin, the pillowy flesh firming up when she flexed in response. Its pale color and translucent appearance had made it look delicate and raw, like an insect that had recently molted or something fresh from an egg. In reality, it was remarkably tough, like someone had stretched a thin layer of tight latex over every inch of her body. She was warm, even in the muggy heat of the hive, and the humidity of the environment was making her wet to the touch. It could be sweat, too - he had no idea.

As his fingers made contact with a glob of her fluids, they began to glide, made almost frictionless against her glossy skin. Enticed by the sight of her swollen lips, he brushed them gently, feeling Twelve twitch at his touch. She didn't pull away, so he trailed a finger between them, stroking the sensitive pleats of her vulva. God, she was burning up, another strand of fluid leaking from her to remind him of her drooling maw.

She responded by bringing her hips lower - a wordless request for him to continue. He slid a finger into her twitching opening, feeling wet, silken muscle grip him tightly in a powerful spasm. Even with such ample lubrication seeping down his wrist, he could barely get a digit inside her, and it was even more of a struggle to wrest it free of her grip.

In his reclining position with his back against the raised resin, her loins were now in reach, and he sat up a little to bring his lips to hers. Overcome with desire, he encompassed them with his mouth, too aroused to care that the fat strands of her alien fluids were seeping down his chin. He felt her burning heat on the flat of his tongue as he dragged it across her vulva, parting her soft lips, brushing the firm bud of what must be a swollen clitoris. Twelve flinched, and he reached out with his hands, gripping her thighs to keep her close.

Pulling away seemed to be the last thing on her mind, and she pushed back against him, encouraging his licking by grinding against his face. Jones had to take a moment to guide her lest she push him back against the resin and just sit on his head, easing her into a more comfortable position, starting to lap at her dripping loins. He traced her delicate folds, reveling in their velvet texture, feeling her lithe body shiver and buck at his touch.

He let his hands wander across her thighs, mapping every inch of smooth skin and every dimple of muscle. Her translucent flesh was cushiony and welcoming, letting his probing digits sink into it, as yielding as gelatin. Beneath it was sinew like bunches of steel cable - the source of her inhuman strength and flexibility - stretching taut in response to his impassioned explorations.

Jones kept up his licking, painting her womanhood with doting strokes, his warm cheeks becoming slimy as they slid against her inner thighs. There was nothing unpleasant about her taste, that gelatinous, ropy substance coating his tongue and seeping down to drip on his bare chest. Twelve seemed enamored, gently rocking her hips in time with the motion of his lapping, quickly learning that it felt better when she kept still.

Sliding his hands up past her wide hips, he took greedy handfuls of her perky cheeks, feeling her butter-soft fat melt between his fingers. Like firm rubber, her sculpted butt sprang back when she tensed, maintaining its perfect shape in spite of his kneading. Twelve was so lean, her body all wiry sinew, but her human DNA had created enticing pockets of inviting fat that had settled in all the right places. He could see the shadow of her exoskeleton - now serving as an endoskeleton - moving beneath her skin as a reminder of her more dangerous heritage.

She hissed as he filled a hand with her doughy flesh, but it wasn't an intimidating sound. It was more of a trill or a purr - an expression of desire.

He redoubled his efforts, mouthing at her oozing loins, teasing her sensitive anatomy with slow strokes and quick flurries that made her powerful thighs quake and her long tail slash at the air above his head. Joined in a lurid kiss, he crawled his lips across her swollen flesh, feeling the pulse of her engorged clitoris on his tongue. He circled it, pursing his lips around it, drawing teasing shapes like he was trying to write his name. Her long, flexible spine arched like a cat stretching in the sun, her range of motion the envy of any human yogi. She retained some of the sharper features of her xenomorph ancestors, with jutting vertebrae that formed sharp spines and the strange chimneys that made up part of XX-121's respiratory system. Maybe he'd hold off on the sensual massages for now.

Twelve wasn't done with him, making Jones lurch as she brought her elongated head down to his loins. With the way she was crouched on top of him, he could look down past her flat belly and between the subtle mounds of her breasts, watching as her drooling maw neared his erection. Ropes of dangling saliva draped over his pulsing shaft like a sordid glaze, the warm, slimy fluid keeping him hard even as she bared her sharp teeth. Praying that she would be careful, he watched her long, flexible inner jaw extend. Keeping its fangs clear, it began to lick and stroke, exploring him just as he had explored her. Jones had seen xenos use that organ to pierce a human skull like a grisly hole punch, but it was just made of muscle - muscle that could be soft and malleable when the situation called for it. Its texture was not so different from her loins, silky and soaked in slime, the strange ribbed structures making him shudder as they slid against his length.

Just as she had used it to manipulate food, she was now guiding his member, drawing it into her mouth. Whether she was copying him or she was driven by something more instinctual, he didn't know, but she pushed her face down onto his cock. Her lips pursed around his base, tight and rubbery, Jones feeling the warmth of her maw encompass him. Her inner jaw had spiraled around his shaft like a snake, holding him tightly, the sensation of its squeezing sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through him. Her teeth never nicked him, and he felt only the satin lining of her inner cheeks sliding against his glans, jostling for room in her mouth along with her pharyngeal jaw. It wasn't a blowjob - it was clumsy and without much direction - but it was a little slice of hot, slimy heaven.

Before he could resume his work, he felt Twelve's long tail slide beneath his head, its soft underside cradling him. Gently, she lifted him higher, pressing his face between her pert cheeks.

"Alright, alright," he mumbled as his voice was muffled by her loins. He picked up where he had left off, his tongue gliding against her feverish folds on a layer of her bubbling slime. She hissed around his cock as he began to rub her firm bud with the heel of his hand, his skin wet with her fluids, kneading in slow circles that made her trill and purr. He paused occasionally to leave sucking kisses on her thighs, taking every opportunity to cup her ass in his free hand.

She gave as good as she got, swirling her pharyngeal jaw around his shaft, smearing her saliva on his skin as more of it seeped down to mat his pubic hair. His cock pressed into her cheek, sliding against its warm lining, its alien texture surprising him as it rubbed against his glans. Twelve was intensely curious, and she was a fast learner to boot, coiling her tongue-like appendage around his tip as she learned where he was most receptive.

Suddenly, she let him slide free, his member remaining linked to her lips by a fat rope of glistening drool that broke to drape itself over his belly. She thrust against his hand, Jones having to release her loins from his mouth, watching her pink opening wink and clench. Twelve was trying to fuck his hand, so he maintained his rubbing, placing his other hand on her rump to try and keep her steady.

The chimera doubled over, the muscles in her belly clenching beautifully as a tremor wracked her, droplets of what might be sweat or moisture raining from her body. She gave his hand a few more desperate thrusts, then dropped to her knees, bumping him in the face with her butt. Jones marveled as she watched her spiky spine arch and flex, the soft meat of her thighs and rump quivering, a strained hiss escaping her. She must have just climaxed.

Keeping his pace gentle and placating, he ran a hand down to the small of her back, avoiding the spines. Her skin was soaking, glistening, the light shaft that was directly over the pair making her shine as though her body was misted with dew. What was he even feeling for this creature? Twelve wasn't human, yet he felt an undeniable attraction, along with a kind of pride for having inadvertently created something so beautiful.

"You good?" he asked, hoping that the tone of his voice would convey the affection that words could not.

She slowly turned her elongated head towards him, her tail starting to whip through the air, her lips peeling back to expose her teeth in a snarl.

"Uh...you good?" he repeated, a little less certain now.

Quick as a flash, she swung her lithe body around, Jones barely even able to register the rapid movement. She was a blur, and then her teeth were hovering an inch from his nose, a strand of her saliva falling to his burning cheek.

"G-good chimera," he mumbled, not sure what to do with his hands. "You're not going to eat me now that you've had your fun, are you?"

With a low hiss, she repositioned herself, bringing her hips down lower. She had to bend a little to reach, Jones feeling another warm, slimy rope of fluid drip to his thigh. Twelve reached down between her spread legs with a six-fingered hand, gripping his shaft.

"Now, hang on," Jones stammered.

Before he could elaborate, she slammed her hips down on him, plunging his saliva-soaked cock into her narrow opening. She was so painfully tight, even with the ample lubrication, walls of slippery flesh swallowing him down to the hilt. He could feel the incomparably luxuriant texture of her insides stretching to accommodate him, the toned muscles in her depths fighting him for every inch, flexing and squeezing as though trying to force him back out again. Her grip was just as fierce as the snarling maw that was staring back at him, just as powerful and athletic as her impressive physique, every fold and wrinkle stark in his mind.

"Fuck," he grunted, gritting his teeth as she let her weight drop on him. He could feel himself bottoming out, ripples of muscle caressing him, globs of her gelatinous excitement forced out around his shaft by her unbearable tightness.

Instinct guided her movements, and she gyrated her hips, grinding him against her innermost reaches as though trying to scratch an itch. When she lifted herself again, Jones could see her pink flesh clinging to his skin on its way up, adhering to him like a latex glove. He tried to move, attempting to relieve some of that pressure, but she placed a firm hand on his chest again. Stay.

Her meaning was obvious enough. Twelve was going to set the pace, and they would be done when she decided they were done.

She let herself drop again, exerting remarkable control over her core, her head and torso seeming to hover in place as her lower body began to thrust. There was no buildup or foreplay - no time afforded for Jones to adjust to this new situation, just the ruthless fucking that nature demanded.

His eyes lidding with each thrust, Jones turned his attention to her chest and belly. Her flat stomach flexed and tensed in time with her movements, the bulges of her abdominal muscles easily visible beneath her translucent skin, little droplets of moisture trailing down the perfect channel that they carved into her midriff. Just the sight of it made his mouth water, like he wanted to clean every inch of that belly with his tongue.

Above it, he could see the rib-like vestiges of her alien parentage, along with her breasts. They were clearly an artifact of the genetic engineering work - it was hard to select only the desired traits - as no xenomorph could possibly have a use for them. They were featureless blobs of fat, without even nipples, but their shape lit a fire in him. They were perfect a-cups, modest in their size but complimenting her lithe figure beautifully. He watched them bounce softly as she moved, little tremors passing through them each time she slammed down on him, like jello wobbling on a plate.

He reached up and cupped one of them, finding that it was the perfect size and shape to fill his hand. Twelve's regular pace faltered as he squeezed, and she let out another hiss, her exquisite fat bulging between his fingers. She was sensitive there, pushing out her chest as if to demand more, and he was all too happy to oblige. Jones brought in a second hand, taking his fill, unable to suppress a grin as his fingers plunged into her bosom. Her damp skin was wonderfully elastic, fat as soft as putty springing back into shape when he let up, then melting into his hands when he resumed his mauling. He released one to let it bounce free as he trailed a hand down her stomach, sliding on her wet skin, feeling her muscles move beneath his palm.

Quick as a flash, she doubled over again to reach him, both of her hands closing around his head. Her long, spider-like fingers encompassed him in a cage, strands of drool hanging from her jaws as she leaned in. His alarm soon faded as she locked him in a clumsy kiss, her soft lips meeting his, her secondary jaw pushing deep into his mouth. There was no restraint or modesty in her, only a primal hunger, her drool sliding down his chin as she embraced him greedily. That flexible pharyngeal jaw filled his mouth, bulging his cheeks and brushing against his palate, mapping out this new space. Like an eel, it seemed to move of its own volition, coiling around his tongue as though attempting to subdue it. Jones did his best to return her kiss, stroking the alien organ, tracing the odd ribs and cable-like structures that ran along its length. Twelve seemed to enjoy that, leaning into him, keeping up the rapid pumping of her hips.

Jones was a little concerned that she might not let him breathe, but the lurid invasion set his head spinning, her incredibly agile organ unrelenting in its explorations. Maybe there was some leftover instinct driving her - some desire to kiss written into her human DNA. It was all that he could do to reach up and run his hand along her elongated head as they embraced, caressing her. Twelve had a need for touch and companionship that must have gone unfulfilled for her entire adult life, and she was eager to make up for lost time.

Perhaps sensing that he was running out of breath, she withdrew, Jones watching the unspeakable strings of alien drool that still joined her lips to his stretch. His face was covered in slobber - so was his neck and chest - but he was too far gone to care at this point.

Just like his partner, his body was shining with sweat and moisture now, the pervasive heat and humidity of the hive turning the place into an oven. It glued their bodies together, making every touch slick and wet, the sheen accentuating Twelve's movements as she danced in the light. She was twisting and swinging her hips now, seeking out more stimulation, delighting in the sensation of Jones' shaft reaching new spots.

His own pleasure was mounting, growing to unbearable levels, every twitch and contraction of her opulent walls robbing him of his breath. She never seemed to run out of stamina, always maintaining the same cruel pace, a body honed for violence now turned to a more carnal purpose. She squeezed her powerful thighs around his hips, the soft cushion of fat preventing the sensation from becoming unpleasant, keeping him locked inside her as though he had any intention of leaving her warm embrace.

She placed a hand on his chest again, holding him against the floor, her tempo somehow becoming even more punishing. All he could do was watch her boobs bounce and shake, admiring her flexing core, the chimera putting on a captivating show for him. She threw her long head back, hissing at the ceiling as pleasure tore at her, Jones watching a strand of her saliva fall to her chest. Like hot glue, it draped itself over her breasts, a glob of it sliding down between them to follow the channel of her toned midriff.