Close Encounters 03: of the Sixth Kind

He shudders when I slide my finger gingerly along that whorl of skin and cartilage and find a spot where the backside of his earlobe joins with his head, and the slight touch makes his cock twitch so fiercely inside of me it makes an audible wet sound. Rune groans almost as if in pain yet leans closer, and finally, finally rolls his hips forward to push farther up and into my ass.

He may control my thoughts with his ears or whatever, but I control his body with them. It's really only fair.

Bane echoes Rune and also steps even closer into me. Through the annoying loincloth, I feel his cock poking my soft belly, an unfamiliar shape jutting forward in an unfamiliar manner. I guess he's not entirely ready yet. I don't mind. He manages to fill me just as well without a cock, too, and I want to kiss him for the next few hours and see his eyes burn red and then bronze and then amber and yellow, and I know that he will get his enjoyment.

I half-climb, half-jump him, wrapping my legs around his body, and shamelessly press my pussy against his growing cock so I can rub my clit on it. Or have my clit rubbed against it by Rune nudging me from behind.

What little control I had, I lose. I freely, gleefully hand it over to my two Dryth and, for the next long minutes, just focus on breathing. Bane's grip on my neck hasn't loosened. Rune's rhythm is just getting quicker. Inside, the two spikes contract and expand. Bane's cock taps against me right there.

Alive. All alive.

I howl their names as I see stars.

***

I wake up to the sensation of a feathery tail tip brushing along my slit.

I groan a soft, raspy, "and a good morning to you, too" and try to spread my legs wider to give him more access, but my legs are entangled with other legs and another tail and I peel my eyes open to see what's going on here.

I am on the floor of the bedroom, sandwiched between two large, warm bodies.

Well. Maybe I didn't survive yesterday's attack after all? Maybe I've died and gone to heaven?

Then again, if anyone's not going to heaven, it's probably the chick with the two alien cocks inside of her vagina.

There's a cold mist in the air that licks at my sweat-soaked skin wherever it isn't covered with Dryth. Burrowing against the chest before me for warmth, I twitch my hips in time with the feathery touch and enjoy that excruciatingly slow build-up to a mellow morning climax. Such a rare treat.

Once the hormones have flooded through me and dissipated, yesterday hits me.

Oh, my fucking God. My legs feel like someone used their bones as a xylophone and the muscles as guitar strings and then played a 5 hour death metal concert with them. I am bruised and battered, mostly from my crazy run through the forest, but also from my two guys fucking me like they hated me. (To be fair, there are like two acres of Dryth skin underneath my fingernails so I'm certain I gave almost as good as I got.)

Swallowing my own spit I realize that the raspiness of my voice isn't just a normal post-sleep basso, but also due to Bane choking me as he tried to hold on to me for dear life. If I had a mirror, I'd probably see that I've gained a pretty, blue necklace since yesterday.

But those are small problems. We were attacked. Bane was almost killed. Rune was almost enslaved.

"We need to talk," I croak and wince at the sound of my own voice.

I am reminded again just how inhuman my boys are when they don't even flinch or anything at those dreaded words.

I almost ask them to lay things out for me in detail, to walk me through exactly how the seven strangers managed to get on board, how one of them ended up dead in the corridor only a couple of steps away from the place where I was sleeping, what being "akrieza" really involves, what the politics behind it are, what the limits of a Dryth's Leia powers are, and what Rune and Bane's story really is. Whether they are on the run together, like outlaws. What's really going on.

But the longer I think about these questions, the less I feel like I really want or need to or even should know these things. Like knowing the answers - least of all the answers that a Dryth would give me, stark and accurate but painful for emotionally driven beings like me - would not be useful to me at all.

So instead of all these things, I just ask, "Can we stay?" and pack into it all the questions that are at the bottom of all those more general queries.

Questions like Are we all able and allowed and willing to stay here, in this ship, like this? Will we have to change, will anything have to change? Will this happen again?

And Does this change anything?

And most importantly Has this changed your minds about keeping me here with you?

There is a silence that stretches over at least ten minutes. I patiently let them ponder their answer, figuring that if one Dryth brain is like that chess computer that'll take ages to decide on a move, two of them linked up together will take ages squared. And it's not like I have anywhere else to be anyway. If my bladder and my stomach allowed it, I'd happily stay lying right here in this ditch with them and snuggle until I fell asleep again.

Also, I'd much rather have a well thought out answer than some hasty promise. I know there are a hundred aspects to consider that I don't even fathom right now because I'm not a Dryth from that increasingly unattractive planet, not a part of their culture.

Eventually, Rune presses his face into my hair, relaxing, while Bane possessively puts his hand between my legs. The sudden touch makes my belly jump and also ensures that he has my absolute, full attention. Which was probably his objective, mostly.

I look up at his face and find myself at the end of a stare so hard and certain I can feel it in my head. For a second I wonder whether a Dryth's mental manipulation abilities really only lie in their 'crowns', or whether a Dryth without any of them may have some residual powers left.

"You will not go," he says and I nod quickly, in agreement, in gratitude and in relief.

"Your work is far from done," Bane suddenly adds, and I stop mid-nod, confused.

"My w... My work?" I ask, frowning slightly.

Wait. They're not thinking I'm with them in the capacity of a prostitute or something, are they?!

(Cool your engines, Val. Maybe a prostitute is something entirely different on their shitty ass planet.)

Huh. First time my bitchy inner voice said something smart.

(Fuck you, I say smart things all the time. You just take the credit when I do.)

I blink myself out of my mental dialogue. Not right now.

Rune snuggles closer and burrows his nose even deeper in my hair, reminding me that I basically ran a sprint through the jungle, followed by a sex-athon, and haven't washed my hair since then. I must smell like pure sweat, with residual eau de galléy thrown in there. Rune seems to like it, though. Dryth have such weird tastes.

Putting his mouth a little closer to my ear, he mutters a word. "Yl'ree."

For a split second I think he's saying my name - and, I mean, it is like 65% of my name - but then my translator chip comes to life.

'My Teacher', it says in my brain.

Bane's pupils dilate as he catches the moment when realization dawns on my face.

"Your work here is not done," he repeats.

I laugh.

FIN/TBC?

Hello!

Here's a fact: I am a weakling writer. I fell in love with my own creation and now, where there was just light-hearted, mostly meaningless, fun, fluffy alien sex before, there's suddenly a plot and a mythology and a back-story that's ripe to spawn several more stories from it. There are self-references, for god's sake. Sigh.

I am really sorry if this isn't what you signed up for. I hope you still liked it, despite (or maybe because) all that pesky plot?

Leave me a comment to make me go 'whooo!'

xo cydia