Crashland

She pushed me back again, and continued her grinding motion, and I probed rhythmically. Her vagina was lined with soft, fleshy spurs like the inside of a fig, and as my tongue probed their forest my head spun, imagining what they might feel like if we were to make love. I felt myself growing again in anticipation, praying there would be more to this encounter.

"Don't stop!" She exclaimed, her grip on my hair becoming painful and her thighs pressing uncomfortably against my head. She doubled over, her red hair falling against my face, her stomach muscles clenching. My tongue ached with exertion and her sweat stung my eyes as it dripped from her tensed body. Finally she came, in a great crescendo of shuddering and gasping. Her contractions almost pulled my tongue out of my head, and her secretions became an unmanageable gush, but she trapped my head there, all four hands wrapped around my skull, her legs clamped down on me like an iron press. I felt my vision start to fade and thought I might pass out, but with a tremor translating through her body into mine, she pulled back, to sit heavily on my chest, leaning backwards propped up by her upper arms, her weighty breasts swaying with the motion. With the lower pair she wiped goo from my face and ruffled my hair affectionately.

"Who would have thought someone so small would make me feel so warm." She purred, and reached for my canteen, almost motherly now after her outburst, feeding me a few gulps of cool water with a hand on my cheek. Her genitals were still splayed, leaking thick juices that ran down my chest.

I throbbed again, admiring her wide hips and her impeccable musculature, I leaned up and ran my tongue along her abs, and she shuddered again in reply, a hand affectionately stroking my hair again. She got off me, and lay beside me, imprisoning me in her arms like the bars of a cage and pulling me against her damp body. She felt a lot warmer now, not quite human body temperature, but her usually cool touch was feverish by her standards.

"So warm..." She murmured, hugging me like an oversized teddy bear. My erection pressed against her sleek belly again, her hard muscles teasing it, but to my frustration she seemed done.

I wanted more, I wanted to get inside her, to feel those torturous fleshy barbs wrapped around my aching member, at this moment I wanted it more than life itself, but she seemed to have fallen asleep. Her breasts heaved monotonously and her breathing was steady, her face buried in my hair, she really seemed to like it's texture. I ran my fingers through hers experimentally, it was thicker and tougher than mine, perhaps it served some evolutionary purpose beyond decoration, but mine must feel soft and fine in comparison. The day's exertions overcame me suddenly, and I joined her in the deep sleep of recovering lovers.

The next day the sun broke through the fabric of the tent, irritating my eyes. It was a little later than we usually woke but Beanstalk hadn't roused me. Still naked and sticky, I made some futile attempts to clean myself of her fluids, and then crawled out of the tent onto sand made tolerable by her cooling unit. I put on my goggles and searched for her, to find her some distance away sunbathing again. I wanted to walk over to her, touch her skin, but I was embarrassed. We had been so taken by passion the night before that some part of me worried she might regret it. Did I regret it? No, it had been amazing, nobody had ever made me feel like that before. My face began to burn again as memories of the previous night's encounter flashed through my brain and sent shivers down my spine, looming breasts in the gloom, hungry eyes burning into me like laser cannons, questing fingers, salt and copper...

I snapped back into reality as Beanstalk shifted on the sand. She was lying on her front, her boobs obscured from view. I was surprised she didn't need to dig two holes for them. As usual the glaring sun reflected off her svelte figure, making her appear to shine like a waxed car, accentuating her already impressive curves. I wondered if I should go back into the tent and wait for her to be done, but before I could decide, she turned her head my way, and beckoned. I dropped my gaze and marched over to her, obedient, my face beet red despite myself.

"You'll overheat that way, O'Brian."

I started, she was teasing me.

"You made a mess last night, the sand is sticking to me." She crooned, accusatory, but there was a playful tone, she didn't seem to be upset or regretful.

"You started it." I chimed, a little more petulant than I had intended to sound. She rolled onto her side to face me, leaning on an elbow in exaggerated sarcasm.

"Is that so? Well I have a job for you, I can't put my robe back on if I'm covered in sticky sand, and I didn't bring bathing supplies because, well I didn't expect..." I grew red again, and tried to avoid looking directly at her ample chest which sagged attractively in the absence of any support. "So get your canteen, and bathe me with one of your rags, it will have recharged before we're ready to set out again." I balked at this, wash her? Here, now?

"What's the matter O'Brian, are you bored of me already?" I shook my head aggressively, and returned to the tent to retrieve the canteen and a fragment of torn shirt without a word.

When I returned, she was lying on her front again, like any Earth girl sunbathing on a beach, all she was missing were sunglasses and a beach towel, and the illusion would have been complete, if it wasn't for those extra arms and her mauve skin of course. I could see the grains of sand sticking to her body where our sweat, or our combined juices from the night before, had stuck to her. All over her body was the evidence of what we had done, had she overpowered me with her superior physiology, or had I succumbed to my own desires? Would it have gone so far if I didn't want it to? Yet, despite my shame, thoughts of the previous night's frantic, spontaneous exchange made my groin throb, and thinking about those fleshy barbs inside her made my mouth water. Yes I wanted more, tonight maybe, if I played my cards right. Who would care if that made me a xenophile? There was nobody on this godforsaken rock besides hick miners.

"Don't just stand there staring, clean me." I obliged, dampening the rag and pressing it against her broad back. Finally I could get a good look at her, explore her. She shifted as I ran the rag down her back, tracing the dimple that ran down the length of her spine. Even her back was heavily toned, with sizable slabs of firm muscle running across her shoulder blades and up her neck, and following her spine down to two very human-like dimples above her meaty butt. I let my hand wander over her haunches, testing their springy firmness, and she shifted, rolling her hips a little. I poured some of the cool water onto her, and it ran down the dimple like a stream, pooling in the small of her back.

"Clean me, don't play games with me." I moved back up her body and ran the rag over her shoulders and neck, pushing her heavy red hair aside with my hand. She seemed to enjoy it, and shifted restlessly under my touch, the tarp she lay on crackling under her. I dared to abandon the rag, and massaged her shoulders with both hands, pressing my palms into her firm tissue. I moved down her back, without protest this time, and glided over the glass-smooth skin of her butt, unable to resist a squeeze. I ran my hands down the back of her thighs, and to her elongated calves, washing away any sand or sticky residue as I went. She was enjoying herself, I guessed her harsh life did not leave much time for massage. I shied from her clawed feet, too alien for my sensibilities, besides they appeared tough and calloused, probably used to sand and dirt. I tapped her thigh gently and she rolled over, her forearms covering her dark eyes to shield them from the sun's offensive glare. As she turned those mesmerizing breasts fell heavily into a new position, bouncing subtly as breasts made more of tissue than of fat do. My erection escaped it's bonds, and she must have glanced down at me, as a wry smile split her face. This was as much a game for her as it was for me, and she was thoroughly enjoying both the sensation of my small hands kneading her muscle and stroking her skin, and of my visibly futile attempts to restrain myself.

"What are you waiting for?" She asked provocatively. "Keep going." She lay back and closed her eyes again as my hands traced the lines of her pelvic bones, sliding over her flat stomach and straying dangerously close to her invitingly smooth mound, it's delicate petals hidden between clenched thighs. She murmured as my fingers brushed her belly button, and I gently kneaded her knotted abs, their almost rigid muscles flexing under my palms. They were hypnotic in motion, the water from the canteen wetting their surface, they rolled and pulsated as she twisted her abdomen in response to my rubbing. I wanted to bury my face in them but I pressed on, tickling her ribs on my way up her body. She jerked, surprised, but purred contentedly as I moved towards her breasts. Finally they were in my hands again, I felt like a lost dog reunited with it's beloved owner. I squeezed and kneaded, deforming them in my hands, they were so firm and yet velvet soft, their weight carried easily on her large frame. If they were a little larger I could have used them as beanbag chairs. She writhed, trying to suppress gasps, as my hands sank into her bosom, hiding her face with her arms. After a few moments of this she pulled my hands away with her lower pair without exposing her now surely flushed face. She ground her thighs together restlessly. I wet my hands from the canteen, then slipped them between her legs, massaging her supple inner thighs. At this she squirmed, closing her legs over my hands, but I was already inside, my roving fingers found her petals and I gently slipped a finger between them, her silky skin giving way to fleshy bumps and sticky fluid. She grunted, a low rumbling sound, and reached down a hand to pull me away.

"Are you always in heat?" She grumbled, feigning annoyance, yet her prehensile labia closed around my fingers, slick with juice, perhaps involuntarily trying to pull me deeper.

"Basically, my species mates all year-round."

"Just clean me," she complained, "We can do it again later." I reddened at that, and I withdrew my hand, wiping away the juices with the rag, as she turned her head to look back at me.

"You want to do it again? Last night wasn't just a..." I trailed off.

"A mistake?" She asked, some genuine annoyance now creeping into her tone. "I did those things because I wanted to, because it made me feel good. It was hardly an accident."

"I-I really like you!" I stammered, "I want to do more, what we did last night in the tent, nobody has ever made me feel that way, I didn't know what to do, I felt like I was melting from the inside out, and I wasn't sure if you felt the same way."

She reached a long arm back and held my cheek. "You're warm, and you're a funny little alien, we'll do more when we camp." She glanced over me, watching my heaving chest and protruding erection, then cracked another sardonic smile. "Save your heat for tonight O'Brian, I'll make good use of it." She rolled back onto her front dismissively, and waved me away, a comically human gesture.

"I'm clean now, go recharge your canteen and let me sunbathe in peace a while longer."

I nodded agreement, picked up my canteen and began to walk back to the tent, but I didn't fail to notice a lower arm snake under her body, perhaps to finish what I had started.

We marched, the desert heat barely kept at bay by the cooling unit, my flight jacket again wrapped around my head, what I wouldn't give for a damned sunhat! As usual Beanstalk led from the front, hopping nimbly over white dunes while I struggled and stumbled through the ankle-deep sand.

We had made good time, the elevator ever closer on the hazy horizon, and as the sun began to dip in the sky I felt a jolt of anticipation flow through my aching body. Visions of those fleshy petals drawing me in, those unbearable barbs wrapping around me, Beanstalk's face close to mine, her breath on my neck. My knees felt weak, I stumbled.

"Keep it up O'Brian, a few more miles and we can rest." She called back to me.

I perked up and demanded every last ounce of strength from my tired body, powering my legs in pursuit of my purple prize. She really was keeping me going out here, if I was able to fixate on memories of her tormenting kisses and lithe body pressing down on me, I could temporarily forget about the sweat burning my eyes and the blisters on my feet, I could believe that we really would make it to that tower and this ordeal would be over. But was it really an ordeal? Was traveling with this beautiful, powerful creature with whom I had a growing infatuation really so terrible? If I could go back in time and change the course of my ship, would I protect my livelihood or would I leave it to crash all over again, just for one more taste of Beanstalk's nectar?

Surely not, but had I ever been in love before? Did any of my previous conquests elicit the same lightheadedness or the same feeling of longing when our bodies weren't entwined? I searched my memories of seedy station bars and agricultural colony farmgirls, and couldn't think of a single one. It was always a game to me, not a single case of real affection, they were just a means to an end, people I knew I'd never see again, faces half forgotten, names never learned. The life of a hauler was nomadic, I was never in one place for more than a week. Many had been in on the game, using me for the same reasons, a sordid mutual agreement, and then again many had not, tears and hearts unfairly broken. But that was life. I felt differently about Beanstalk, when we had made love it had felt like someone was pouring warm honey over my insides, even when I was done, I didn't want it to end.

Eventually the sun drifted below the horizon, and Beanstalk set up her tent, I took a seat on my pack and watched her work with butterflies in my belly, remembering her promise that morning. It was all I had been thinking about for the whole day, I was nervous and expectant, my palms were sweating, and it wasn't because of the desert heat. She finished inflating the tent, and without so much as a look in my direction, began to remove her clothing and crawled inside. I waited for a moment, blood flowing to my loins in anticipation, then got off my pack and walked awkwardly across the sand to the entrance. I peeked through the flap, and Beanstalk was lying in the gloom, spead-eagled, her impressive body partially covered by one of the insulating blankets. I crept in, and sat beside her, uncharacteristically meek faced with the reality of the situation, last night had been unplanned, sudden and spontaneous, tonight we knew where this was going. I mustered the courage to start taking off my shirt, but a large purple hand reached down and grasped one of my wrists, then another. Beanstalk loomed over me in the darkness, pinning my arms to the ground with her upper set, straddling my lower body with her bulky thighs, and began to remove my shirt with the lower. She slid her soft hands under my shirt and caressed gently, lightly running her dull claws across my chest and belly. I gasped and writhed, but she had me pinned, her smooth, naked skin rubbing tantalizingly against my clothing. The pressure on my aching groin was unbearable, and I could feel her floral labia attempting to engulf the bulge, the warm juices leaking through my pants as they probed. I tried to speak but she leaned down and subjected me to a probing kiss, her snake-like tongue invading my mouth with it's slippery undulations. Her lips were cool and soft, and my mind turned to fizzing static as she drew back with a pop, a grin spreading across her face. Her hands wandered downward, her claws struggling with my belt. After a moment she succeeded in pulling off both my trousers and my underwear, then lowered herself onto me, squashing my member up against my belly as her labia wrapped around my shaft like a carnivorous plant. She grinded for a few moments, rubbing me against her opening, then maneuvered me inside her. The sensation was overpowering, I tried to buck, but she was too heavy, and all I did was force myself further in, she gasped and I felt her clench around me as my organ slipped smoothly past her opening. Those fleshy petals, each like a roving tongue, glued wetly to my groin and tickled my testicles with their bumpy inner lining. My dick had been forced all the way inside by my struggling. Thick, gooey juices leaked around it and the forest of soft, spongy spines that lined her vagina tormented me, brushing against the head of my penis with every breath and movement.

I was seeing stars, almost delirious, the stimulation too much for my brain to process. Beanstalk too seemed to be in a trance, her face flushed a deep mauve, her eyelids drooped and she began to circle her hips as if trying to scratch some irritating itch deep inside her body. Her breathing grew heavy and rhythmic, her breasts bobbed and her abs pulsated with her twisting movements. My arms were still trapped under her and her mane of red hair fell about my face, tickling my nose. After every few thrusts she would lean down again, delivering a deep, passionate kiss, keeping me breathless and dazed. Her lower arms alternated between stroking my hair and playing with her boobs, her thighs enclosed me in a velvet prison. The contractions from muscles deep within her squeezed and teased me, and those devilish barbs scraped me.

She picked up the pace, almost bouncing on me, her weight oppressive but not painful, she would pull up, then slam down again, her comparatively large organ enclosed me tightly, it might have torn my skin were it not so slick with viscous, slippery liquid. Firm muscles felt through soft walls pulsated and squeezed, matching her rhythm, and the papillae that lined them brushed and tickled.

"It's too much," I wheezed. "Slow down or I'll..." She slowed her thrusting somewhat and leaned her face in close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from her cheeks, her breath tickled my ear as she whispered.

"Not yet, I won't let you."

She drew back and opened her mouth, then her tongue snaked down her body, pausing along the way to coil around a nipple. It extended to an absurd length I would not have thought possible, and wrapped tightly around the base of my penis like a tourniquet. I yelped and tried to pull away but I was still trapped, I doubted three men could overpower her, never mind me in this compromised position. I writhed and struggled but her hands tightened around my wrists like iron cuffs and she squeezed her thighs to keep me lodged inside her. I struggled and protested, but then she started to thrust again, my voice began to crack and my protests turned to moans. She leaned in close, her mouth closed in a wry smile around her tongue and she lovingly caressed my face with her free hands. The painful ache in my loins began to give way to a deeper, warmer sensation and my eyes rolled back into my head as she watched me, her dark gaze full of predatory lust.

Her genitals, seemingly designed by Satan himself to torment men, delivered sensations so intense that I couldn't tolerate them, but she wouldn't let me loose, and she wouldn't let me come, I had lost what little control I had over her and it seemed that in this state of mind, her eyelids drooping and her body becoming warmer than I had ever felt it, feverish even, she was beyond reason.

And I loved it. She had awoken something in me, forced it out of me, something the tough-talking, bar-brawling ladies man I had been could never admit to, never acknowledge. I strained against my firm, fleshy bonds but to no avail, as Beanstalk pounded, embarrassingly loud, wet noises emanating from where our bodies joined. Pleasure rolled over my body in crashing waves, each pulse arching my back involuntarily and pushing me deeper into her, her slimy papillae worsening my exquisite suffering with every movement, grating the head of my penis.