Close Encounters 05: of the 8th Kind

I somehow manage to keep a tight hold on Bane while I go boneless underneath his kisses, and also rub myself all over him, all while pulling him down on top of me. Gonna put 'multi-tasking pro' onto my CV.

Bane keeps kissing me as we lie down, and as his right hand makes a slow, torturous, wonderful journey down my body. My neck and throat, my chest, both breasts and nipples, my tummy and the dip of my navel, the V of my groin and my throbbing pussy which he only grazes -- torture! -- and then down my flank, gripping the swell of my ass firmly and proprietarily on its way down, really digging his fingers into my soft flesh there.

I can't help the tingly butterflies that flutter around in my stomach at that grab-and-touch. It triggers something primordial, pushes some mammalian button that survived socialization.

Being grabbed just feels so crazy good when the one who's doing the grabbing is right.

Stupid, really, for my Mr. Right to be a package-deal happy meal that includes two alien barbarians. What's stupider is that they are the only thing that really made sense in my entire life so far, ever. Guess that says nothing good about me.

Words can't express how much I don't care right now.

Eventually, Bane's hand reaches the hollow of my knee, pulling my leg up and draping and hitching it around his back, opening me up for him.

And then his cock slides into my pussy without any more preamble. I moan into his mouth. My muscles stretch and burn and flutter around the slick, hot invader. It's not exactly painful. Close to it, but the good kind of close.

I twitch my hips up and spread my thighs wider for him, open my mouth more, inviting him deeper into me in every way. He accepts the invitation, coming in, seizing power right away and crushing me deliciously. His tongue and his cock pump into me in the same rhythm, just a little bit faster, a little bit more intensely than I can comfortably take. When I moan and try to writhe away, he clutches me more firmly to hold me still and just continues.

He is the devil and he still likes it when I fight him.

My insides start quivering when a ball of heat starts coiling up underneath my belly button until my entire abdomen is like a flower bud waiting, desperate, to burst open in an explosion of color. I roll my pelvis, trying to rub myself on something, anything, trying find more clitoral friction somewhere, but Bane's very mobile body knows how to evade me, and his even more mobile cock only indulges me only at precisely its own pace. I scratch my frustration into his broad back, even try biting his lips and tongue but I guess I'm basically like a little kitten to him.

He plays with me.

Fuck me, why does that feel so mind-numbingly good? Why do the obscenely wet squelching sounds our bodies are making turn me on and send waves of goose bumps up and down my neck?

I teeter on that edge of glory for long, amazing, terrible minutes, and I know that Bane can feel the flutters of my sheath around his cock. I know that he knows how close I am to exploding all over him, and how desperate. Just to be sure, I tell him every time my mouth his empty, though. Gonna come. Gonna come. Oh my god, gonna come, please!

The moment I think I might die from arousal and release deprivation, he suddenly pulls back from me. His tongue leaves my mouth and his cock slides out of my pussy and I guess now I am dying. My empty vagina clenches on nothing but air -- and it occurs to me that, for the first time in a long time, there is no spike there, either. Holy crap, this might be worse than death. I grab at Bane's back and neck mindlessly, and cling to his hips with my legs, looking pleadingly into his bright gold eyes.

"Please! Please, please!" I beg breathlessly, "More, plea-!"

His right hand leaves my knee and comes up to lay against my throat, pinning me down and effectively cutting off my words.

"You take what I give you," he says, and the words and the tone shoot pure heat straight down between my legs.

Oh, mother of mercy.

I nod frantically and hush another "please", which turns into an "Aaahh!" when I feel his cock reach and breach my back door and surge up into me the other way this time.

I'm truly far from being a prude, but even millions of light years away from Earth where that stupid idea came from, anal sex still has a stigma in my head that has to be eliminated anew every single time. There's just something forbidden and obscene about being taken through that hole.

Dryth don't share that notion whatsoever, but I know they know I have it. Bane and Rune know there's something special for me about being fucked in the ass, something that especially disarms me and leaves me a trembling, twitching mess on the floor. They know that I can get anal orgasms, and that those take longer to build, hit harder and leave me just a little unsatisfied and also colt-legged.

Pure evil. I have created monsters.

"Oh my fucking-aaahd," I slur as Bane's cock stretches and lengthens and flexes inside of me, massaging and rubbing against my tender ring, filling me up to the brim in yet another way, then proceeding to hollow me out when he pulls back only to ram back inside again.

I break out in sweat and whimper. I never whimper, but I can't help it right now. I feel like an egg that's cracking. Helpless, I search his face. "What are you doing to me?"

His answer is a baring of teeth -- quite far from a grin or a smile -- and the tightening of his hand around my throat and a thrust forward of his hips, which drives his cock into me to the very hilt even as it expands inside. A thrill of fear and arousal thunders through me. I cry out, and then again as he does it again, and again. I can feel his lubricant smear down my ass cheeks, can hear the sucking, squelching noises caused by hard, hot cock shuttling in and out of a tight, yielding opening.

He fucks me like he almost lost me. Which... fair enough. I try to fuck him back the exact same way, for the exact same reason. We're making war while we're making love, and it feels so good. So good that I don't care I'm losing.

Tears are streaming down my temples when my body is ready to capitulate and fly apart through nothing but anal pounding and being ever so gently, firmly pinned and choked. The muscles of my pussy clench on themselves, and the feeling makes me moan like a demented porn star.

And yet again he feels it and pulls back and out just before the moment of no return.

This time, I lie limp and gasp for air. My whole body is pulsing like it is one big, racing heart. I am soaked in sweat and tears and other fluids, I can feel the hair on my neck actually dripping perspiration, and my skin is radiating heat and glowing rosy-red. Between my legs, everything feels puffy, sodden and tender.

I want to demand he finish what he started, but I'm out of words and out of breath and if he did grant my wish I think I might actually faint.

Obviously, Dryth don't do time-outs, especially not during battle when their opponent is reeling. Taking his hand off my neck and leaning back onto his heels, Bane towers between my spread legs. "Watch," he commands.

I weakly lift my chin and look down between our bodies. His cock, jutting out from between his strong thighs, is twitching and pulsing like mad, tinged an angry-looking red-black, and as I watch, he rubs the underside of the tip on my belly once, twice, and then sprays his warm seed all over me with a loud, deep, dangerous grunt.

The pearly liquid splatters onto my stomach and my heaving, sweat-slicked chest, a couple of droplets even hit my face, my mouth, and I reflexively lick the specks off even as my head falls back again, powerless.

I feel... baptized. And alive. So alive.

For long minutes, we just breathe together. I bathe in the warmth radiating off him and in my own exhaustion -- the good kind, not the kind you feel after doing sports or some crap like that. Bane gently rubs his essence into my skin like he knows exactly that I'm absorbing him through my pores.

Eventually, Bane speaks up.

"Take it," he says and his voice is a roll of thunder.

I groggily look into Bane's eyes to gather his meaning.

"Take it," he orders through clenched teeth, grabbing my left wrist with his right hand and physically putting my palm onto his recently spent cock.

I startle a little. Here's something I normally don't get to touch.

I always thought they were either too sensitive or entirely numb just after ejaculation if they didn't detach for staking purposes. They usually both move away from me, out of my reach.

I slide my palm along the still rigid but slowly softening shaft, feeling the cartilage of the rib-like structures along its length go spongy. The secretions are almost like jell-o now in their consistency. Also, I could swear I feel a pulse, like a heartbeat, underneath my fingers -- which is strange because I never noticed a heartbeat in my Dryth before.

Bane shivers entirely under my palm and I know my numbness hypothesis is wrong.

This is almost fascinating enough to make me forget my state of utter exhaustion and sexual frustration.

Bane growls -- literally growls, like a displeased leopard -- when my exploring hand reaches the base of his cock. "Take. It." He pumps his hips forward slightly.

Again, I'm clueless what he means -- until his cock suddenly weighs down in my hand and I am left holding his heavy, gently pulsing and squirming length in my palm, like it's the most lovingly crafted ten inch vibrator with inbuilt lubrication that seeps through my fingers and drips down the back of my hand.

I could make fun of this moment, it would be absolutely too easy.

How many irate women have ever threatened a guy with literally ripping his cock or his balls off? Now look at me. How much better would mankind as a whole be if this was an option for the males of my species? Men would give their cocks as courting presents, with little red bows on them. It would be downright lovely, and women would know what they're in for before entering a sexually dissatisfying relationship. Cocks would become collectibles and you could make a fortune with yours on eBay (Then again -- who sells a boner on eBay? A boner that you made? That shit goes on etsy). Or you could throw it at somebody and that somebody would literally be able to go fuck themselves. The possibilities would be endless.

But the look in Bane's eyes tells me that this isn't at all the time for humor. That this is a significant moment for a Dryth like him. Just like that encounter in the cleansing unit weeks ago (which I have thought about every waking day, to be frank) this is the closest he knows how to get to actually communicating.

Neither Dryth-ish nor English has the words for him to do properly that, to frame what is really happening inside of his head or in his heart.

But he's trying. For me, he's trying to catch sight of his own feelings, some of which he previously didn't have or didn't acknowledge, and inventing a new language for them with the few tools he has at his disposal to express them. To me.

He's trying. For me. Because of me.

I appreciate that more than I, in turn, know how to adequately tell him with words.

So, I lift my body up and crane my neck to press a short, sweet kiss to his lips, then stay like that for a long, weightless moment. Noses and breaths touching, our eyes are so close I can see the different striations and textures of his iris -- and behind those, maybe, his very soul, that wildly beautiful beast that likes to play with me and break me a little every time we come together.

In this moment, I am so fucking grateful for him it almost makes me want to cry. It was so unlikely, so absolutely improbable, but he found me in a brothel at the ass end of the universe, and then he came back for me, and now he is keeping me. I am such a lucky, lucky bitch.

Up close, I see how his eye color darkens to a deep orange-red, and then he follows me back down onto my cot, chasing and catching my mouth with his and resuming the conquering he had done before. Meanwhile, his hand reaches between us and finds mine, the one that is still clutching his spike, and guides both between my legs.

My eyes fly open when I realize what he wants from me, and the heat that has abated a little during this short and weird but oddly sweet interlude flares up right back to where it was before.

I let my thighs splay open as far as I can and angle my pelvis so I can notch the tip of his cock against my entrance, and then guide it inside of me.

"Haww-oly shit, it's so big," I stammer because, haww-oly shit, that thing is indeed a lot bigger than my usual. I now understand that those always went in like neatly, tightly wrapped Christmas packages, with the ribs holding everything together and compressing them so they had manageable oversized-tampon proportions.

This thing? It feels more like that ten-and-a-half-inch Doc Johnson American Bombshell dildo you don't dare to buy, let alone try when someone gives it to you as a prank gift on your bachelorette party.

But I'm not just trying, I'm doing it. I want -- actually, I need this. All that energy that Bane's pounding me generated hasn't gone anywhere. I'm still absolutely desperate for my orgasm, and I can't stand the thought of being empty at all. It'd rather be full to bursting.

The spike is dripping with lube, my pussy is dripping with my own juices, but it's still not enough for it to just slip in. The last four inches encounter a resistance and the feeling of this huge cock languidly moving against my inner walls makes me tremble all over, too much to keep a firm hold of it and keep pushing.

"Help me. Bane, please," I beg, and before the words are even fully out of my mouth, he has grabbed me and re-arranged his legs so that one of his massive thighs lodges right between mine and pushes up against my groin, forces the spike deeper into me, and also provides a solid, almost brutal pressure against my swollen clitoris.

I open my mouth for a shout but all that comes out is a helpless little squeak. My masochistically inclined lower body twitches spastically against his thigh, rubbing itself and my clit against all that muscle, and my legs flail as they try to find purchase and also cope with the sparks of electricity suddenly zapping through them. Something wraps around my ankles -- Bane's tail -- and binds my wayward limbs together, immobilizing me further.

Bane moves his hips ever so gently, and I squeak again, just a little louder this time, and jerk all over like I'm being electrocuted. My head goes fuzzy for a second.

"So full," I hear myself gasp, "Oh fuck! Oh! God of...fuck!"

Like the devil he is, Bane quickly finds a rhythm that is just that iota faster, just this side of punishing and unbearable - and therefore utterly, completely perfect -- and I'm a mess made of tears, swearwords and sweat by the time I'm ready for my orgasm to literally kill me. I just know not having an orgasm would kill me worse.

"Bane. Bane. Bane," I chant with every thrust of his and clutch at him like I'm drowning, which I think I am, pressing my forehead to his. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, please."

My Dryth, now almost sunset-eyed, growls again. His words are harder to understand. Maybe it's the impending mating fever taking over. Maybe it's because my brain is in the process of turning into a steaming bowl of porridge. Oh my God. Oh my God fuck my God oh fuck oh fuck---

"Touch, Ree," he says. "Touch."

I nod stupidly, letting the grateful, hot tears in my eyes tell him that I'm happy to touch him all over, every bit of him, however and however long he wants me to, repeatedly, that there isn't a place on him I wouldn't put my tongue, that he only has to point me into the direction.

And then he does point me, by plucking up my wrist yet again and sticking my hand between our bodies until my fingers slide over and into his-

Oh. Oh, fuck yes. That spot. I have been dreaming about that spot and doing wicked things to that spot.

I dip my fingers deeply into the gash his penis has left, and my big, strong General gives a strangled cry as his whole body seizes and heavily pushes down on me, trapping my hand where it is.

Good. I didn't mean for it to go anywhere anyway any time soon. Also, God, that weight on me is heaven. My pussy squeezes tightly on a pre-orgasmic ripple as the feeling of being trapped settles onto me.

I try some come-hithering and scissoring and quickly find out that the rim and the upper inside seam of his anatomy are the most shudder-inducing bits, the ones that make him make unlikely noises and drive him to bite at my shoulder with his teeth -- and also ram his thigh forward and impale me on his massive cock like he wants to give as good as he's getting, or maybe punish me for making him feel like that. I bite him back and scream my exhilaration into his skin.

Neither of us lasts much longer than half a minute, which feels both much too short and also like an eternity. Like we're spending lifetimes entwined like this, rocking, crashing, melting into each other, him snarling and keening like an animal over me, me gasping and moaning and swearing helplessly underneath him. So very close, so very much together.

Another exhale. Shivers, shudders, shakes.

Another inhale. His scent. His moans. His essence.

And then the world ends and everything is suddenly dissolving into bright white.

I stop breathing for what feels like a considerable amount of time while every cell in my body and every synapse of my brain sparks with joy so intense and overwhelming it is tinged with pain.

Oh my god you survived and I survived and don't leave me and I love you I love you I love you.

I scream, but only inside my own head. This feeling is so vast, it swallows up all words and sounds and coherent thoughts.

I shake and shiver and hold on to Bane.

He in turn holds on to me through it all.

***

Coming back to my senses slowly, I find myself lying prone on some sort of cot-like bed in what has to be one of the bridge-adjacent rooms on our space ship. I am bathed in sweat, bio-lube and Bane's cum (and snot and tears in the facial area, and a couple drops of blood around my right shoulder because Bane really did bite me.) and shivering from the cooling wetness.

The wonderful companion who could've kept me warm has fled from me and is now lurking some fifteen feet away in the doorway, watching with his yellow cat eyes and his tail lashing back and forth like he's contemplating whether or not to whap me.

I mean, if his special anatomic situation means that he now experiences female-level orgasms, I can't really blame him for his apprehension. Female orgasms still blow my mind and make me drool cross-eyed, and I've had those for a decade or so. I've worked up to them slowly and got used to them. Imagine having all those delicious sensations dumped on you all at once after a whole life as a guy, with your sorry little 1.7-second-climaxes. Must be a little scary at least, even to a big, strong dude like him.

I lift my hand towards him -- good grief, it weighs a hundred and twenty pounds at least -- and wave my fingers like he's a waiter at a restaurant. "Some assistance here, please." My throat is parched and sore from all that gasping and screaming. Still I manage a slight smile.

Bane considers me for another minute, then vanishes for a second and eventually returns wearing a loincloth to cover his weak spot, clutching a soft black cloth in his hand that drips water onto the floor. He kneels down next to me and begins cleaning me up, starting with the shallow bite wound he inflicted on my shoulder, then moving to my face and working his way south from there.