Close Encounters 04: of the 7th Kind

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Author's Note!

Hello! I'm back! Suck it, four-year-long writer's block!

This is a continuation/sequel/next chapter. If you haven't read the earlier bits, you should. Because they're awesome. Also, you won't understand this bit at all if you haven't..... Hell, you know how these things work. No need to explain it to you. Next!

A heads-up: This story is long (loooong) because writing it made me very, very happy. (Long things often do, heyyy-oh!) (I mean movies, of course. And cats. Long cats are great. And pizza cheese strings. They taste better when they're long. It's science.) Just in case you're searching for a nice, short sexy story. This ain't one of those. There's ~65k words to come. And most of them aren't all that smutty, to be frank. Yes, there's freaky alien sex, but mostly, this is a sci-venture-omance-rama-omedy. incidentally featuring prehensile penises.

Oh, yeah, and lasty... It's literally been four (4) years since I wrote/posted the previous parts of this story. Due to cellular replacement, I'm halfway to being not actually the ship of Theseu- ...I mean, an entirely different person than I was when I wrote chapters 1-3, so if you meet any glaring continuity errors -- and you will -, please be a nice and friendly sphinx to them and give them a regal sort of wave as you let them pass by unquestioned? Thank you..

If you're still here... Welcome! Let's gooo!

*clears throat*

*majestic woodwinds*

Space.

A couple of miles behind the final frontier...

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"God. Fucking. Dammit!" I screech. And then I cough because screeching requires a lot of breath, and breathing in a lot while your face is very close to the ground is not a terribly bright idea.

You know how they say that teachers make the worst students, right?

What 'they' mean by that is usually that teachers are an obnoxious bunch of know-it-alls who are entirely unable to learn anything new from anyone else because they can't get over their egos, which are inflated to massive proportions by years and years of professionally being right all the time.

Personally, for me, that's complete bullshit.

I -- aka Teacher -- am a bad student solely because my current student-turned-teacher seems to think that sitting on me counts as an educational method.

"Get off of me, you big, fat, ugly toad!" I spit like an angry cat.

No reaction. Dammit.

Change of tactics. Maybe sympathy will help?

"You're huuurting me!" I sniffle a bit for extra effect.

A couple of quick notes on this scene.

One: The guy who is sitting on me is not fat. He's just close to seven feet tall and made of heavy muscle. And the planet he's from, they make muscle extra heavy, apparently.

Two: He's not hurting me (much). I'm the one hurting myself with my wriggling and trying to reach back to hit or scratch him with my unimpressive fingernails. I am very aware that he could very easily hurt me - and even more aware that he never would. (Much.) (Unless it was fun.) (And, let's face it -- it sometimes is.)

Three: He's not ugly, damn him. I mean, he's not "pretty" by human standards. He's got a short Mohawk made of quasi-sentient non-hair hair, dark amber lizard eyes, pointy teeth, a long, snake-y tail, truly freaky feet, and his bronze-gray skin is peppered with several scraggly scars and lumps of bone sticking out in odd places. He's not exactly GQ material.

But he's not ugly to me.

The very opposite, actually. Damn him.

And four: I'm only calling him 'toad' because the name I've been calling him by for a couple of weeks literally means 'Your Highness' in his language and I haven't yet forgiven him for leaving me in the dark about that.

He doesn't rise to the sniffly bait whatsoever, sadly doesn't respond to his brand-new name either, and leaves me to wriggle and try to get out from under him for another couple of minutes until my already relatively feeble strength is finally drained and my nose is so full of dust that I have a sneezing fit.

"What have you learnt, Teacher?" Rune asks me from above as I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

(Classy, Ree.)

(Can't help it. I don't have a tissue in my pocket right now.)

Because I don't have pockets on me right now, because -- did I mention that we are both stark naked? Cause we are. Yeah, our teacher-student-relationship was very questionable even before Rune took a seat on my bare ass and called it a lesson.

(Of all the things he could do to my ass, sitting on it is what he chose. What a waste.)

I sigh at that thought.

Anyway. Where was I? Ah yes. What did I learn?

Well, I did not learn how to wrestle or grapple, which was my original idea. Both of my alien companions are really good at their Dryth-style Krav Maga and ever since our vessel was infiltrated by other aliens who wanted to abduct Rune, I have felt the urgent need to get a refresher on my self-defense skills.

Or should I just call it a 'fresher', seeing that my skills equal zero so far? I mean, I can sucker punch a bitch along with the best of them, but that's basically it.

In any case, I have learnt not to ask a Dryth to teach me wrestling because he'll just sit on me for an hour and then ask me dumb questions.

"'Don't get sat on by someone who is heavier than you'?" I grump at him in answer to his original question.

"Yes," he agrees. He's infuriatingly immune to sarcasm. I'm starting to think that all aliens are because sarcasm is an exclusively human invention. "What else?"

I sigh. "'Keep a weapon at hand so you can stick the guy who sits on you with the pointy end.'"

"Yes," he agrees again. "What else?"

I mope, all out of ideas, and say several words that are startlingly creative but also quite impolite to the extent of casting me and my upbringing in a bad light and therefore shan't be repeated.

He relents and gets up. I think I can hear my hips and organs creak when his weight lifts off them and I give a groan of painful relief as I lie there like the useless pancake that I am.

"What else have you learned, Teacher?" he probes.

"That I'm a weak ass human. Uuugh gaawd," I wheeze-groan and start to slowly, gingerly pull my knees and elbows underneath me so I can get up.

Before I succeed, however, his weight swiftly returns again, and I'm squashed flat into the ground. Again.

"Nooohooo!" I howl and thump the dirt with my fists because I can't reach Rune to thump him properly. "Fuuuck youuu!"

"Humans are weak in combat. Your bodies are delicate," Rune agrees to my earlier answer, ignoring my protests and my potty mouth.

If he wasn't being absolutely infuriating right now, he might have earned brownie points for calling me 'delicate'. My brain is selective like that.

"But your mind is a strong weapon," he continues, "when it is not blunted."

That's his way of telling me that I'm being a massive idiot. So diplomatic.

"You are in a bind. Which ways do you have out of it?" he asks once my storm of curses has abated. Not because I've run out of curses or anger, just out of air. Lying on your stomach is work, even without added Dryth weight on top of you, and also, oww, my boobs.

"None. That's what makes it a fucking bind," I snap over my shoulder.

"This moment is not the last," he says -- or rather my translator interprets his words as such. I'm pretty sure that he makes more immediate sense in his own language. "It is not my intention to kill you, or else you would long be dead. Therefore, you need to ease out of the bind and furthermore plan for the next moment. Strategize for a desirable outcome."

I go still and breathe deep, avoiding snorting space dust this time. "Okay. Alright. My Teacher," I bite and I swear I can feel his amusement. Dick. "How do I ease out of that bind and successfully strategize for a desirable outcome, then? Enlighten me."

"I am sitting on you," he informs me helpfully because gee I hadn't fucking noticed! "What is my intention?"

I roll my eyes. "To humiliate me?"

"Yes," he agrees.

Yeah, so much for diplomacy. No wonder they coupd'etat'ed your butt off the Dryth throne, pal. You're actually obnoxious when you have the upper hand.

"What else?"

"Hmm," I go and tap my lower lip with a finger theatrically. "Maybe you like my ass a lot and thought it would be very comfortable to sit on?" I crane my neck and wish I had enough leeway to wriggle my backside enticingly. Hell, I wish he wasn't sitting on me so I could do anything enticingly. Being sat on and sweaty with exertion and anger and caked with dirt is so not sexy.

"Yes," he agrees yet again, easily.

Not a day goes by when he doesn't let me know exactly how much he likes my ass -- that's why he's my favorite. (Fifty percent of the time anyway.)

"What else?"

I think for a second. "Sitting on me is the easiest way for you to subdue me without harming me much," I conclude.

"Yes." There is a note of eager pride in his voice, like his dumb student has finally struck oil. Or maybe I'm just imagining it. "If I meant to abduct you and did not have drugs or restraints at hand, this would be the most effortless way to do so while not damaging you."

I shudder just a little, but not from being sweaty and naked. Abduction is a topic that hits too close to home in too many ways now, and even though I make light of being a wimpy human from Planet Pudding, doesn't mean I enjoy being categorically both helpless and useless.

"So basically, I should let myself be subdued and give the fat toad who's sitting on me what he wants," I conclude. "He wouldn't get up until then anyway."

"Yes, and no," Rune replies.

"I should act like I'm subdued," I amend. "And then, when he finally gets up..."

Rune gets up again and I lie there for a full second before I realize my earlier mistake. I immediately roll to the side (super elegantly, I assure you, a true paragon of athleticism) and struggle to get up right away, foregoing the lying and whining this time around. My limbs are sore, and my joints feel all squishy - probably from being squished for so long by an eleventy-hundred-pound alien.

Still, I manage to get up on my feet even if my stance is wobbly.

"A real threat will not allow you as generous a chance," Rune lectures. "But there may be a moment, a short blink. Become ready for that moment."

It is somewhat disheartening that the best defense and only hope Rune thinks I might have in a one-on-one situation is basically that my attacker

a) doesn't want to or miraculously doesn't have the means to kill me straight away,

b) forgot to bring zip ties or chloroform, and

c) is stupid enough to buy my ruse and give me a full minute to get up and run.

My overall success and survival would then depend on

d) my would-be-captor being slower than me.

In short, according to Rune, my survival depends on a series of fortunate and highly unlikely events.

In shorter, I am fucked. Not in the good way.

I guess my best shot is to

e) stick to Rune and Bane and really, really hope they're never too busy taking care of themselves to also look out for me?

(And that they'll remain interested in looking out for you.)

(Fat chance, eh. Nobody has ever remained particularly interested in you for any amou-)

I bite the inside lining of my cheek, hard. Shut up.

I make a show of wiping my grimy body down as much as I can and sigh. "Alright. Got it, Mr Miyagi."

"What is the first lesson you learnt?" Rune asks and takes a step towards me that's so alarmingly casual I take one step back and one to the side so fast it must look like I'm doing the 190bpm version of the Cha Cha Slide (sliiide to the right!), almost stumbling over my own feet in the process (cha-cha, real smooth). Out of reflex, I even lift my fists -- as if boxing him would yield any type of result other than me shattering a wrist or five.

"Don't give the big, bad alien a chance to sit on you," I reiterate with narrowed eyes. "Don't come any closer right now," I tell him warily and slide backwards to create more space between us.

"And what if I do?" he challenges as his pupils dilate, swallowing up the dark orange of his irises, and his chin dips.

Hoo boy. That's a very good combination of words.

Just like that, the air is sizzling, my pulse ratchets up a notch, and there's a twinge in my nethers that is very familiar now but also still exciting every single time.

Whichever godly entity there is to thank for giving me companions who are as horny as me and who get horny as quickly as I do -- thank you. Sincerely. You're a bomb ass matchmaker.

Rune observes my hardening nipples with obvious interest. Between his thighs, his impressive penis uncurls a little from its relaxed ramshorn shape and starts glistening as it coats itself with lube.

Seriously, matchmaking fairy godmother, you did good.

"What if you come closer?" I ask rhetorically. "Well. I dunno? Uhm. I... might.... run away!?" I suggest, but then I'm already running before I finish the word 'away', trying to stifle the crazy cackle that threatens to spill out of my mouth.

I know it's futile. He'll catch me in less than ten seconds, and it'll only take that long because he enjoys watching me jiggle a little while. It does give me a moment to think about my next actions, though.

So when I feel his hand wrap around my arm, I whip and twist myself around and, with a little war cry, launch myself at his back and cling to him like a spider monkey. My arms wrap around his neck, my legs around his rock-hard middle.

"Didn't expect that, did you, dastardly alien!" I crow with glee and go for the gold. The gold being his ear.

Ever since I saw the effect that my other alien, Bane, had when he bit and nibbled the shell of Rune's ear, I have turned into a true ear fetishist.

Or maybe it's not the ear itself that turns me on like crazy but the sounds that come out of Rune's mouth and the way his entire body shudders and goes soft when I suck his earlobe.

Rune gives a panting groan and his knees buckle.

Yeah. That. Fuck yes.

One of his hands comes around and supports my ass to hold me tight even as he sinks to the ground, breathing heavily and purring like a race car engine.

A pleasant frisson skitters through me. Ugh, I fucking love this part right here.

"Are you ready for your lesson now?" I whisper the question into his ear and feel his eager assent in my head like a glowing live ember, throwing sparks. That's his gift, his telepathy, going wild. Normally, I can't tell whether he's even in my head or not. Only in moments like this, when he lets me take control, I feel the shape and heat of his feelings, right there. Underneath and in between my own, in the negative space there.

I instruct him to sit down and lean back even as I also sit and then lean into some tree trunk myself. There's something poking my left ass cheek and I should be worried about creepy crawlies climbing into my crack, but it'll all have to wait. I've got important stuff to do.

As Rune gingerly reclines against me, I re-wrap my limbs around him and latch on to his ear again, decidedly going for the one that was badly injured in the fight he had with his almost-abductors. Those assholes mangled the little shell badly, ripping a part of it off and leaving a notch in it, marking him like a damn neutered tomcat. Rune has let me know that the sensitivity in it has increased and that every little touch is now almost painfully intense.

Perhaps Rune is a bit of a masochist. He turns his head, clearly offering himself to me, and clutches my right knee for support as I slide my tongue into and around the shell of his ear and nip him with soft lips and careful teeth.

Not too soft. Never too soft or too careful.

My hands come up to play with his other ear and the strip of non-hair across his scalp respectively, and his groaning increases in volume. I know and feel, rather than see, that he has shut his eyes and is giving himself over to me.

"Oh, what a good student you are," I croon and nibble the skin behind his ear with my teeth. "So compliant."

Something wet and slick taps my shin and I look down over and past Rune's shoulder to see his erection nudging my leg.

"...and eager."

I don't think I will ever get over the fascination of alien cock. Dryth cock, in particular. Not only because it's visually and tactually pleasing (to me anyway).

You know the ancient proverb, 'An erection says more than a thousand words'? No? Well, now you do.

You see, much more so than my boys' usually impassive faces, their cocks are indicators of moods and feelings. Their bodies' reactions to me are immediate, undiluted, and unapologetically obvious... and therefore just fucking fun, to be honest.

In a moment of curiosity I decide to half unwrap my legs from Rune's lower torso, only to capture and sandwich his twitching member between the soles of my feet.

I have never given any guy a foot job before -- which is curious, really, seeing that I worked as a prostitute in a space port brothel for three years and have participated in just about absolutely every sexual practice I could think of -- and several I couldn't on account of Earthians not having the required body parts for them. But hey -- I've seen it done in Japanese porn a couple of times, so I'm basically a pro at this. (Even though the absence of pixel censoring is startling.)

Judging by the way Rune groans and purrs, I'm doing just fine. His hand comes up and encircles both of my feet, pressing them closer together and increasing the friction against his cock. His organ bulges and pulses against the sensitive skin along the arches of my feet, almost giving me a reflexology massage in return.

I nibble, nip, lick and suck his ear and the area around it, gently stroke his other ear with the pads of my fingers and dig my fingernails into the spongy growth on his skull while allowing him to rub vigorously against my feet. His lubrication is flowing from the glands along his shaft, slicking our skin, and the slimy feeling of it between my toes makes me shiver. It's not disgusting -- nothing my Dryth do ever is -- but it's definitely new.

The sticky, slick sounds make my nipples prick.

Even though I'm still dusty and sweaty from my earlier quasi-training, Rune's reactions are making me feel all kinds of sexy. I rub my front against his back just a bit, enjoying how his smooth skin and the interesting bumps of his skeleton and musculature tingle against my breasts and how the stuttering, roiling vibration of his purr tickles in my tummy. Both of my alien lovers are tactile wonderlands, so very touchable, always slick, always warm, and though their bodies are not soft, I could spend all day just pressing up against them. In fact, I may have spent days doing just that quite recently.

"Ree," Rune hisses my name, and then gives a little warbling cry that shoots straight between my legs. "Yl'ree." My Teacher.

So sweet and sexy. Feeling incredibly hot and turned on by his reaction, I whisper his name -- his title -- into his ear in return.

Increasing the intensity of my ministrations and wriggling my feet and toes against him, I drive Rune slowly but steadily to his climax. I watch in awe and fascination as his agile, bizarrely pretty cock darkens with a purple hue, bulges outward and then spurts and drips warm milky liquid over my feet and his hands, over my legs and his belly. It gives me a pleasantly funny feeling in my stomach.