Cat Nipped Ch. 05

The water from the shower head falls steadily on the top of my head, then my face as I lift it into the stream. Monday morning, ack! I took the day off knowing that I might need time to recover from yesterday's cookout, though it looks like the time will be spent having 'the talk' with Tara. I wonder if I can take tomorrow off too! Chances are I'll still be needing recovery time if I have to go through that. Why? Because yesterday I found out my girlfriend of less than three weeks is an alien. Not an illegal who slipped into country, but a bona fide extraterrestrial. To tell the truth, that's the least of my worries. You see, while I'm okay with her being an alien, Tara says that we need to 'talk' in a manner that makes it clear I'm not going to like what she has to say. So naturally, here I am in the shower. Hiding out.

Tara woke up a few minutes before I decided to get in the shower. Oddly enough, her waking up provided the urge to run to the bathroom as it felt like I was about to heave up the contents of my stomach. Nervousness is making me sick to my stomach. So my plan is to stay in the shower for as long as possible. At my place I'd have a good forty-five minutes before running out of hot water. Here, at Tara's place, with the almost limitless hot water, I figure I can last ninety minutes at least. It won't get me out of talking, but it will let me postpone it until my stomach settles. Click! Thump! I hear the bathroom door open, then swiftly close again.

"Hey," Tara says. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, just taking a shower. What about you?"

The door to the shower opens even quicker than the door to the bathroom and Tara slides inside the tiny stall with me. I step forward to make room for her, because being in the shower being splashed by incidental spray instead of a nice steady stream sucks. Tara grabs me around my midsection, pulling me to her so her front is pasted to my back. We stay that way for a while, not speaking, her unnaturally warm body pressed to mine, as the hot water pours down on our bodies. Eventually my stomach settles.

"Feeling better now?" Tara asks.

"I am. Thanks."

"This is why we need to talk, honey. I'm not trying to make you nervous or make you feel bad. Some of what I have to tell you may seem kind of scary, but most of what I want to say is just information. Not good or bad, only facts. Some of what I have to say you may even like."

I exhale a long, drawn out sigh. "You say that now, but I can hear in your voice that you're going to say something that changes things for us. And I don't want anything to change."

"Don't be afraid of change, honey. Without change there'd be stagnation. Who would want to go through life where nothing ever changed? And believe me, you've got a lot of years ahead of you, sister."

Another sigh. Now I'm being chastised. Kind of deserve it though. Tara runs the fingers of one hand through my damp hair, while the other hand reaches for the shampoo in the shower caddy. She lathers the shampoo in my hair, gently massaging it into my scalp with both hands. From my scalp to the ends of my dirty blonde hair, Tara strokes and washes, massages and detangles. The luxury of being pampered in such a way leaves me feeling tranquil. By the time Tara has rinsed, conditioned and rinsed again, I am sighing with contentment. I lean back, resting some of my weight on Tara, enjoying the moments of quiet companionship.

"Pass me the shower gel, Jenn."

Tara takes the bottle of shower gel, squirts a generous dollop on a cloth, then begins to wash my neck. With unhurried movements, she gently lathers my neck before moving on to my shoulders, all while keeping most of her wet, naked body pressed to my own. The cloth travels down my back, suds making it swish across my skin. The smell of raspberries envelops me, mixing with the smell of my Tara, to soothe my worries completely. My eyes close while behind me Tara continues to bathe me.

Over and across my hips goes the wet cloth, then down the long, lean length of my right leg. Tara kneels on the shower floor and points to my foot, wordlessly asking me to raise my leg. Bubbly suds sluice down my thigh and over my knee as I raise my foot and place it in Tara's hands. She studies my foot for a moment, perhaps looking at the glossy, pink polish on my toes. With tender care Tara washes my foot, running the cloth along my heel, tickling across my sole and then separating each toe to bathe them each individually. When she is finished, Tara takes my other foot in hand and washes my leg in reverse, from wiggling toes to hip. It feels absolutely marvelous!

When the soft, wet cloth finally dips over the damp curls of my pubes, then over and across the sensitive lips of my vagina I can't help pushing my crotch into Tara's hand. She giggles while nuzzling into the slick plane of my shoulder. I give a wordless cry when the wash cloth leaves my bubbling quim to travel back over my left hip. "Patience," Tara murmurs, "we've got to make sure you're clean everywhere."

The soapy cloth moves over the cheeks of my bubble bottom. Washing my ass, Tara moves the cloth from the top of my cheeks to the bottom, then reverses and moves the cloth side to side. By the time Tara moves the wash cloth to my crack I've spread my legs a little wider and bent slightly to the front. She glides it in between my cheeks, being sure to wash from my pussy back to asshole. The muscles of my belly tighten and I start to squirm.

When Tara drops the wash cloth and enfolds me in her arms, I lean back into her with abandon. I feel safe. Loved. Tara's skin is even warmer against my back than the heated water of the shower on my front. Tara's small hands rest upon my hips, pulling me firmly back against her. They glide up and across my ribs before settling on the slight mounds of my breasts; even Tara's small hands are enough to cover my tits. Achingly hard nipples press into the soft palms of her hands, press so tight against my lover, it's no surprise when I feel her erection stir to life against my right thigh.

Tara breath ghosts over my shoulder when she whispers, "You have no idea how much you mean to me!"

A lump forms in my throat, preventing me from telling her how much I love her. My body is thrumming with the need to express the feelings I have for my mate. I may not be able to tell her yet, but I can show her. You bet your ass I can show her. I drop my hand to my side, encircling the girth of Tara's turgid rod in my wet soapy grip. I run my hand up and down the shaft, twisting my grip around her glans on my upstroke and around the base on the down. Tara's hands press more firmly into my chest; I wonder if my hard nipples will poke right through the backs of her hands.

"Oh, Jenn," Tara moans. "I only wanted to comfort you, I wasn't trying to have sex with you."

"You saying you don't want to have sex with me?" I ask.

"Nope! I always want to have sex with you. I'm just telling you you're too stinkin' sexy for your own good."

I continue with long, slow strokes of Tara's gigantic cock until I hear her breathing begin to quicken. When her hips begin to thrust her sausage into my fist, I know I have her at my mercy. Turning so that I'm facing Tara, I use my free hand to cradle her tight little ballsack. Unbelievably, her scrotum is even warmer than the rest of Tara's unnaturally hot body. I heft those boiling gonads, surprised that something so small can produce so much spunk. My fingertips trace a gentle path right down her scrotum's seam. Tara get all jittery.

"Sssss. That tickles." Tara is watching me with those liquid gold eyes that show she's very aroused.

I ask, "Should I stop?"

"Nope! That was purely FYI."

I giggle, then lean down to slide my lips closer to her ear. "What about when I do this?" I use my thumb and index finger to softly grasp a single nut, rubbing it, fondling it gently. Tara doesn't say anything, but she does move closer. I switch to the other ball, making sure it receives the same loving treatment. My girl's hips start to shimmy back and forth. I pick up the pace with my other hand, stroking her slippery shaft quicker. With my other hand I alternate between tickling Tara's sack and playing with each testicle individually.

I continue playing with Tara's dick and balls, watching the expressions on her pretty face change from simple pleasure to animal lust. Tara's small, warm hands drop to my hips, gripping me tighter as her horniness increases. When her breathing starts to get quick and wonky I slow down. We do this for a while, me teasing with palms and fingers, Tara squeezing my hips tighter with each passing moment. With my next move I change the angle of my stroking slightly so the head of Tara's penis is slipping among the damp hairs of my pubes. I chuckle inwardly as my girlfriend's mouth opens in a silent "oh" and her little pink tongue darts out to lick across her upper lip.

I ask, "You like that, baby?"

"Uh huh!"

"You want me to keep going?"

"Oh God! If you do I'm going to make such a mess."

"A big mess?" I say.

"Yeah, a really big mess. Gonna cover you with my spunk."

"Oooohhh. I like it when you're a messy girl," I purr.

Tara's voice is low and growly when she responds. "I'm not kidding Jenn. If you keep going like this I'm gonna squirt."

I raise one of my legs, wrapping it around Tara's hips without ceasing my ball fondling and cock stroking. One more angle change has the tapered head of Tara's fuck stick rubbing hotly against my clit. Damn that's nice! I make circles over and around my clit with my girl's dickhead.

"So naughty! So, so, so, naughty! Dirty! Rubbing my cock and balls in the shower! Making me be dirty while I'm trying to get clean!" Tara's mumbles turn to groans as the first shot of cum boils out of her nuts; the sizzling liquid bathes my love button. More shots follow, covering my tingling quim in pearly white jizz. It overflows my cleave, sliding and dripping back over my anus before falling to the floor. Tara wasn't kidding! I can feel her sausage flexing in my grip as it continues to shoot wad after wad of sticky sperm onto my hyper-sensitive clitty. It feels so fucking good.

I'm lost in my own world of pleasure, working the head of Tara's penis around my clit. I'm so close to getting myself off I barely notice when I'm completely lifted of the ground, both knees slung up and over my girl's arms. Fucckkk! I'm so spread open. My taco is a deep pink-red and very, very wet.

Even though my eyes are closed I can feel the weight of Tara's stare, so when they finally pop open I'm not surprised to see the metallic gaze. My girlfriend is watching me so intently it should make me feel uncomfortable. Instead it makes me feel weightless, like I could fall into Tara's eyes and float away. My arms, which had been resting against her shoulders, move to wrap around Tara's neck. My head drops until my forehead rests on hers.

I snark, "What you gonna do now?"

Tara's lips press to mine for the briefest of moments, giving me a kiss as light as a butterflies wings. When she answers her voice is thick, and slightly rough. It hints at a growl only barely contained. "Now I'm going to show you how much you mean to me! I hope you're ready, mate!" Without pausing, Tara lines her rod up with my hungry cunny and slowly slips inside.

Sssshhhhiiiiitttttt! The sensation of her slow, steady entry, combined with Tara calling me mate is enough to send my overly aroused clam into orgasm. I shake. My pussy quivers and contracts on the huge, slab of meat stretching it so thoroughly. My toes clench and release spastically. "Mmmmm! Oh fuck baby! You make my pussy feel so good."

I'm babbling because even though I'm just coming down from one orgasm, Tara is steadily fucking me toward another one. In and out. In and out. She varies her strokes so that I' m constantly on edge. Fast, then sometimes slow, circling her narrow hips, making me feel every inch, every vein in her hot, throbbing cock. Our faces are so close, each breath pants into the others face. I'm lost, overwhelmed by my rapidly approaching cum, and the knowledge that Tara cares as much for me as I do for her. When I feel her cock start to flex and throb within my sensitive walls my own cum becomes inevitable. I shake. I shudder. Every muscle in my body goes rigid even as my core spasms and pulses with ecstasy. It's only when I begin to come down that I realize Tara is nearly in the same overwhelmed, over-sensitized state I'm in. She's breathing heavily and I can feel her legs trembling as she holds me aloft.

She must feel my concentration because Tara leans into me until her body is melded to mine from hip to head. Her mouth is right next to my ear. "I... OMG babe. We really need to talk."

"Ok," I answer. I'm sated now, as comfortable and relaxed as I'll ever be. "I think I'm ready."

***-----***

We make our way to the sofa in the living room, sitting next to one another with our bodies turned so that we can easily make eye contact as we dive into the most serious discussion we've ever had. Tara looks at me. Her hazel eyes, normally so big and round, are shuttered and the pains wracking my own stomach such a short time ago seem to have transferred to her. Sometimes feeling what your mate feels can be difficult to bear! I reach out with both of my hands, enfolding one of Tara's smaller hands within. I think about how much I love her, how much I need her to be a part of my life's journey, knowing that Tara will pick up on the words I'm too cowardly to say.

I don't rush her to begin talking and she doesn't try to run over me with her words. Eventually, Tara takes a deep breath and she begins to speak. "The Ska'a are an ancient species. Our recorded history dates back to when giant lizards were still the dominant life form here on Earth. For all of that time, our people have been fighters. At first we fought for survival, fighting against other life forms on our home world. Later, we fought each other for control of the planet and much like Earth the planet suffered as much as the individuals.

"We didn't stop there though. Oh no, we were stubborn! Our bodies grew stronger as individual Ska'a became more aggressive. We adapted. Our teeth became sharper, the talons on our fingers grew thick and wickedly sharp. We Ska'a would savage one another up to the point of death. Sometimes beyond. As our species became more violent nature stepped in to pull us from the brink." Tara stops talking. She appears to debating internally about what to tell me. I wish I had the ability to read her thoughts as quickly and easily as she reads mine.

"Come with me," Tara says, taking my hand. She leads me to the half bathroom where she stands in front of the sink. Her worried reflection is showing in the mirror. I'm standing off to Tara's left, slightly behind her as the half bath isn't really big enough for two people at a time. "This is going to be freaky," she says.

"Freaky good or freaky bad?" I'm glad I haven't had anything to eat yet.

Tara answers, "Glad you haven't had anything to eat yet, huh? I need you to stay still, ok?"

"Ok."

Tara holds out her right hand, raising it so it is in front of my face. She concentrates. I feel her will, directed out, and obviously focused on the hand before me. When the nails begin to visibly grow I can't help but let out a whispered, "Shiiiiitttt!" The red fingernails grow and lengthen, becoming dense, thick extensions that look capable of ripping skin and flesh with consummate ease. They continue to grow over the space of just a few seconds until each nail is at least an inch and a half long. Tara locks her hazel gaze in the mirror, watching me as she raises her left arm and rakes the talons on her hand down the warm flesh of her left forearm leaving gaping gashes in the meatiest part of the arm. Blood rushes from the wounds, its acrid, coppery smell clogging my nostrils. I feel a sympathetic pain in my left arm as I grab a towel from the rack and wrap it tightly about Tara's arm.

"Stop, Jennifer!"

I scream! But in truth, it is as far from a scream as a house cat is from a jungle tiger. What comes from my mouth, from the depths of my stomach, my chest, would be better classified as a growl. A growl that is equal parts challenge and defiance. I do it again because it feels good to release the tension inside me. Tara stands in front of me motionless. She is still looking in the mirror, but her visage has taken on a look of...not fear maybe, but definitely concern. It stops my growl mid-howl leaving me shaken. More, it leaves me ashamed! Here I am screaming like a madwoman and my girl needs to go to the emergency room. "C'mon," I say, "let's get you to a doctor so you can get stitched up."

"There's no need," Tara replies, unwrapping the blood-soaked towel from her arm. And there isn't, because already the long, deep gashes have stopped bleeding, leaving deep unhealed scars that appear to be healing while I watch. It's like watching time-elapsed photography, only the time passage is being measured in seconds not days. "Hurry up and look at your left arm, Jenn or you'll miss what I wanted to show you."

I look down at my arm to discover what I thought were sympathetic pains were obviously all too real. The angry, red scratches covering my left arm disappear while I stare in shock. "What the fuck just happened?" I ask. "And why the hell didn't you tell me you were going to slice yourself up?"

"You wouldn't have let me."

"Of course I wouldn't have let you," I scream. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Can you yell at me later and look now?" Tara holds out her arm, giving me a terrific view of the now almost fully healed forearm. "See what I mean? In the next minute or so the scratches will be gone completely."

I drop my head into my hands, counting backwards from ten very, very slowly. Best not to speak when you're as angry as I am; you might say something you'd regret. Worse, you could say something you didn't regret. Tara steps toward me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me tight. The top of her head is in the perfect position for me to drop my chin so I do, resting my head on top of hers.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't think about how you would feel seeing me do that. I'm not quite used to this thing we have. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, but I need you to explain to me why you felt the need to flay your arm nearly to the damn bone."

"It's one thing to say, 'Hey Jenn, my body heals ridiculously fast.' Seeing it puts everything in perspective so to speak."

"Uck! You're giving me a headache."

"I know, but you need to understand some things. I can't wait now, because it could be dangerous for everyone around you."

"Dangerous for everyone around me? Me! You're the chick with the fangs and claws and I'm the danger? You've got some nerve chick." Tara is still holding me. Still squeezing me tight, so I feel a little guilty yelling at her. But only a little!

"You're very dominant. It's your personality; you can't help it."

"Stop," I say firmly. "You really are making my head hurt. What does scarring your arm have to do with me being dangerous?"

Tara backs away from me, releasing the hug that was helping me keep my shit together. She pulls the long, dark cascade of her hair from behind her, beginning to braid the locks from the base of her neck. The French braid highlights the numerous strands of dark gold hair lying amidst their darker brethren. She takes up her story like there was no interruption at all. "Our bodies adapted, healing faster and faster, until even the worst wounds could be overcome. And...if warriors were a part of a mated pair, well they healed almost twice as fast. Can you imagine what it was like Jennifer? Warriors with superior strength, quickness, agility and now accelerated healing. It was catastrophic! As our bodies adapted, growing stronger and more dangerous, simple fights became open warfare. Soon most of our home world was engulfed in war.