How I Met My Naked Alien Girlfriend

I recalled a girl I'd fucked after a night clubbing last summer. She would stop when riding me to push down hard and grind her clit against me, bringing herself off. My hope was that Ángelita would figure this move out before I lost control, but I didn't exactly want to un-romantically tell her what to do.

Ángelita set herself to pumping my cock like a piston as she moaned out with delight. I groaned out, trying to hold back my own release, then held her hips down briefly to give her a hint. She took to rocking around in circles over my cock. On the up cycle her weight came down onto her pubic area, pressing her clit into me. Her beautiful almond eyes lit up, the amber color seeming to glow with the emotion of her passion as she realized she was now in control of her pleasure. "Oh wow," she gasped out.

She held me down and took a moment to test her control. Pushing her hips down and grinding her clit against me in a very slight but forceful wiggle. She got completely silent and her pretty blue colored lips worked into a pout as she forcefully stared down at the join between us.

This move gave me almost nothing as she held my cock still inside her; grinding her clit. But that was what I needed, a pause to come away from the edge. My pause was her buildup, and her grinding started to get more and more intense.

Suddenly she gasped then yelled out "oh yes, fuck, harder, now!" and started to ride on me as fast and hard as she could. She bounced about like crazy, risking me popping out. I held her hips to keep her from going too far and felt her vagina clamping down on me as she climaxed with a scream of pleasure.

That was all I could take. I grunted and shot my cum into her. Her eyes widened with the realization that we were cumming together. As she came down she let out a long "hmmmmm,' as she started to rock her hips back and forth slowly. Then she dropped down to rest on top of me with a kiss.

Our tongues met and danced together, but it was soft and gentle this time. I tasted a mix of lemon and orange on her. "You're delicious," I told her. I felt myself being to slip out of her.

"Oh," she said, as I popped free, followed a wet mess spilling out onto us. She reached back to take a sample into her hand, bringing her head back to taste it. "Just like jeztari candy."

We laughed together. Sex didn't usually taste good. But I guess that's just how it would be with an Alien Girl. "That was... even more amazing than I thought it would be," Ángelita said.

She rolled off of me and onto her back, throwing her arms out wide. "My blankets feel so soft and smooth, not scratchy now." She looked at me with a serious look. "We should fuck more often," she declared. I was not about to object to that idea.

I suggested we go out for a bite, but she declined, telling me that if she went out, she'd need to orgasm again before being able to sleep in her bed, and she wanted to sleep with the smell and taste of me on her. So we ordered pizza from a place nearby.

When it arrived, she went to the door and answered, naked and still a little tossed looking, with an "Hola Carlos" as she collected the order. It made for a bit of a backward date. Instead of dinner and then maybe more, we had the more, then the dinner. As we ate we talked about our passions. Ángelita showed me her sketches and paintings, and I showed her what photos I had on my camera.

"The way you work with shadow is so fascinating," I mused, working through a pad full of charcoal drawings. She seemed to start with a very dark space, and slowly scratch away the darkness in complex layers. Much as her color work was a wild blend of colors forming a shape without using lines. She didn't color in a drawing, the image emerged in the color.

"Our eyes are a little different," Ángelita noted, as she scrolled through images on my camera. "Teacher says your humans see a little more... red, and a little less violet than we do. But I think we also interpret it differently."

"We hear the same," I said. "When you sang, it was like a native Mexican."

"No..." she shook her head. She held up her left hand touching her thumb and middle finger, both of which glowed slightly. Then she glance at me with her head tilted a little sideways in curiosity. She pointed to me and spoke "Sil...veh..ree?"

It was my name, but pronounced a little off. "what...?" she kissed me stopping my words.

"kasz, see?" again her words sounded a little off.

"Sí, kiss," I answered.

She clapped her hands, "kasz! kasz!" She pointed at herself and said; "mo hiplo ezpaeño..."

"Um..." I think she had said no hablo español, but it sounded really off. She touched her fingers together again, repeating the short glow.

"I want to learn to speak Spanish," she stated. "With my real voice."

"Your real voice? But..." She had my curiosity.

"Teacher, my AI. To my mind, I am speaking my language. Teacher changes my voice to be your language, to be Spanish," She stated.

"So, you can't even understand the words you hear yourself speak?" I asked.

"Teacher makes my brain hear in my language. When you speak, I don't hear Spanish, I hear my language," she frowned. "I want to speak naturally, so I can feel what I sing. My language is one of science and loss. I turn off my AI and listen to people; Spanish is a musical language. Love, passion, happiness and tragedy. I want to feel that when I speak and listen."

"But you can't," I nodded. "As long as your... Teacher, stands between us."

She stopped to look at a message on her phone, "Yoana says Carmine is on her way home."

We were almost out of time. "Mañana, I don't have classes on Mondays. Mañana, we can meet at the cafe, and I will teach you."

She smiled and cutely clapped her hands together, then leaned into me for a kiss. "My cute boy, Mañana a proper date, we can talk and play, then we fuck after."

I laughed. I was certainly not going to challenge that plan. I wasn't quite sure how to make sense of the dynamic between her and Carmine. If we saw each other much more, that would have to get worked out. For that night however, I managed to make my escape not long before Carmine was due to arrive.

When I got home that night I looked at my camera and realized that once again, I had somehow managed to fail to get any pictures of her, but I did discover she had managed to take one picture of me looking at the sketch of my face on one of her easels. She had a good eye for composition, but the image was a little off from not knowing how to work the settings.

I could smell citrus all over myself when I went to bed, which left me with some really strange dreams about adorably cute lemons or something.

The next day as I approached the cafe I saw Ángelita sitting across the alley on the same stone bench we'd sat at before. I did a double take when I saw her, she had a decorative pink sombrero on. I had my camera with me and was ready for a day of fun, so I quickly snapped a picture of her in the oversized hat.

Only problem was she wasn't alone. Carmine was there and they were talking. Carmine kept patting Ángelita's wrist. I steeled myself for what could soon be an awkward uncomfortable moment, and then walked over.

"Hello; Carmine right?" I stated, as I approached, looking to Carmine. She gave me the look. The same look my mother gave Eduardo the first time my sister had brought him over.

Then she smiled, "I hear you're a photographer?" she asked. Ángelita had laid the groundwork well for me.

"I'm a student, at Ciudad Universitaria. Photography is my passion, yes," I brought up my camera, letting her look through some of what I still had stored on it.

"I see you like traditional architecture," she noted, looking through the images.

"Color contrast can be interesting," I pointed out some details in the scene she was looking at on the tiny screen. "But I'm thinking of a project with contrasts between new and old; especially as it applies to people."

"Oh, you could do a series with me," Ángelita clapped her hands. "By some of the people who dress up for tourists."

"I was thinking along those lines," I admitted. "And with that Sombrero on, you're a cute mix of tradition and modern."

Carmine looked at Ángelita, then at me. "OK," she waved a hand at Ángelita ending with a gesture of pointing away. Then she looked at me, and added "I don't expect you to behave like a gentleman around..." she nodded at the excitedly cute naked green Alien girl sitting next to her "all of this. But I do expect you to be safe, and careful. They," she paused. "they get hurt easy."

Ángelita hugged Carmine, "You worry to much silly. Besides, remember when I scraped my knee? My nanites had me fixed up by morning."

Carmine tapped her ear and whispered "no Teacher, I mean emotionally." She looked at me and Ángelita then added, "you have my blessing, but Teacher does not approve, she..."

"Ay ay ay," Ángelita scowled. "Venus fucks a dozen New Earth guys every day, and Teacher just..."

"That's," Carmine glanced down. "Complicated. Teacher wants, well; Venus isn't," she paused.

I caught Ángelita's glance, noticing how cute her face was smiling up at me from under her hat as I stood in front of her. "I understand," I stated. Venus... well, she was just fucking people as an actress. You could even call it public relations for the Aliens. Ángelita, you could see it in her eyes, she wanted something more. I needed to decide if I wanted the same thing, and quick.

"What?" Ángelita looked between us. "Oh look; churros." and she impulsively bounced away to buy some sweet bread from a street vendor a few shops away in a move that seemed too convenient. Especially when Carmine's hand held me down by the wrist.

I understood Carmine at least, but this AI they called Teacher, that was beyond me. "I can't promise I will be a good boy," I looked to Carmine. "But I will be a gentleman."

"Ángelita;" Carmine sighed. "in the year I've had her, she has been a second daughter to me. But to Teacher, she is just," she tensed a fist then released it. "There are so few of them. Ángelita, Venus, To Teacher each has her purpose. You do realize, you won't be able to father a child with her?"

That was something far from any thoughts I had been having. But now I believe I understood the problem. "We're young," I offered. "It's early for such talk."

"Not to Teacher. Venus might play, but Ángelita and Maya, of all the Five they are the romantics," Carmine looked over to where Ángelita was talking to a nervously blushing churros vendor. Then she looked at me as she pulled out a tablet. "Teacher wants. Well, Teacher wants children."

I sidestepped that last remark. "Maya, the one on TV?" Thinking of the Alien girl who was beginning in a new Telenovela.

Carmine nodded. "Maya's pregnant." Then she handed me her tablet. I glanced and saw a picture of myself alongside a screen full of information. Where I lived, my age, where I grew up, that I had no criminal record, lists of relatives and friends, and it just kept going. "If you get up and walk away, that file will fade away in a few weeks time. But if you stay here until she returns, your life will change."

And there it was, the threat. Carmine was after all, with Alien Affairs. Ángelita had even told me Carmine had been her handler during First Contact. "She thinks I'm holding her back from fun, but I want her to have as much of a normal life as a green skinned naked young woman can possibly manage," Carmine stated. "But I won't win that struggle."

Years later this was the moment where I realized that if I had been a little older and a little more world weary, I would have walked away. But I was young and just assumed Carmine was being over-protective. So I waited for Ángelita to return.

"One for you, and one for you," Ángelita bounced on her toes and she handed Carmine and I cinnamon sprinkled churros. We excused ourselves from Carmine and left in a ride-share for a date at Chapultepec Park. I wondered when it was from a service I didn't recognize, until the driver, a middle aged woman; got out a folded up metal panel set and placed it over one of the seats for Ángelita. Even still the woman couldn't get enough of watching Ángelita nakedly bouncing around in the back.

"How do you wear the sombrero with your clothing problem?" I asked Ángelita during the ride. She had placed it in my lap as I sat across from her. The metal she was sitting on had me thinking of just how difficult life here must be for her.

"Silly, my hair. It only touches my hair," she giggled.

"I guess you need it for the sun," I fumbled around with the hat in my lap.

"Oh, we don't sunburn," she shrugged. "Nanite protection. I just like hats, it's nearly all I can wear." She wiggled her bare toes at me as a reminder that even shoes were beyond her.

As soon as we got out at the Park I was on it with my camera. Lots of good shots of her cute green butt walking away. "I haven't been back here since First Contact," she said. "It looks so much nicer when it's not full of soldiers, scientists, and barriers."

We spent the time talking about art, walking around Castillo de Chapultepec, and me getting as many pictures as I could of her posed in the castle grounds by statues, fountains, or curious onlookers. Ángelita absolutely loved to just bounce around on the grass, play around with clumps of dirt, and make silly poses for me. Poses that had an uncanny habit of featuring pouty kisses, bending over, bouncing her tits, or laying spread out on a bench. And giggling, constant giggling the whole time. I had to hold her sombrero for her several times as she just rolled around in stuff.

We did a lot of it with her translation AI off, so she managed to learn some simple words for posing here and there, and she made sure to learn as many anatomy and sex words as she could get me to repeat out there in public.

At the Museo de Arte Moderno Ángelita marched me around the works of famous Mexican painters, pointing out features in the use of light and shadow I had never seen before. I found her pulling a sketchpad out of her weird little metal plated bag and making quick renderings of several paintings. Meanwhile I caught several people making sketches of her nude form. Once again we would often talk about a work, then turn off the translation AI and try to repeat the conversation. She was desperate to learn how to speak about art with actual Spanish words.

She had this cute way of standing on her left foot, leaning forward and floating her right leg back for balance as she touched a pencil to her lip in thought. I managed to sneak a few photos of her like that with my phone camera with museum people more interested in her than I. Every few minutes she would touch herself rather intimately, much to the shock of those around us. But it did aid in distraction.

"I just love the work of Remedios Varo," she confessed. "Surrealists have a way with color and composition that speaks to me." I was more of a Diego Rivera man, but I had to concede that she had a point. "When Teacher had us in the Dream, before Planetfall; it all made sense. But the more I remember it now, it feels as if the first twenty years of my life was a surrealist painting."

"It was one long VR session right?" I asked, as we sat on a stone bench somewhere outside.

"You know how in dreams, the story can just stop, start, or jump scenes?" she asked. "I spent twenty years living like that. Teacher gave us the plot she wanted us to have. Or at least as much as she could."

"She's an AI though, couldn't she just give the whole life experience?" I had only begun to learn about Aliens, and the AI they called Teacher, after meeting Ángelita.

"Teacher isn't alive, yes she's an AI. True sentience isn't possible for a machine, only the Divine can provide that," Ángelita declared. It still amazed me just how religious the Aliens were. "The people of Old Earth made her more complex than any program New Earth has ever dreamed of, but in the end she is just a computer program."

Ángelita picked up a small pebble, showing it to me. "If each atom in the universe was a simple on or off piece of data, it would take more atoms than exist in the known universe just to fully describe this rock. So the Dream had gaps. But it was all I knew until I woke."

"Surrealism would terrify me if it reminded me of that," I said, glancing at her sketchpad. I was getting the impression that the silly flirty girl I had met could likely run intellectual circles around me.

"It's a story, completed only when observed. I find that," she shrugged with a grin. "Comforting." She cocked her head to an angle and looked at me. "Silly boy, too much thinking?" She scooted over to close the small gap between us and I put my hand down into her crotch and she leaned against me.

As I started to rub circles over her pubic mound she followed with, "there, much better." She snuggled herself into me and began to sketch the building we were sitting across from, conveniently covering her lap. "I don't talk about The Dream much with Carmine," she began smearing bits of charcoal onto her drawing. "It's easier to keep things simple."

"I'm pretty simple," I confessed. "Just a guy who likes to take pictures of beauty." I noticed a few people giving us unkind glances when they realized what my hand was up to in her crotch, but she paid them no mind. "You are anything but."

"Everything here is new, and fascinating." She sighed, grinding her hips to get her clit to rub against my palm. "But you're, something different."

"Only because I'm your first," I confessed. Immediately wondering how I could be so stupid as to plant that idea.

"Maybe," she paused and glanced around. "Oh, how about him, she nodded off to the left where some guy was walking by and checking out her tits. "Should I try him out for number two?" Then she giggled. "I know we've only barely met, but, you understand the way I see." she tapped her sketchpad. "We have a similar eye for things." She put her sketchpad aside and took my camera, scrolling through images until satisfied. She handed it back to me and added, "see?" Glancing between a photo I had taken of an old woman looking at a statue, and then at her sketchpad, I knew what she meant. We used light and shadow the same way in our compositions.

She reached over and patted my crotch, "I can get that anywhere, naked like this." she cupped her left breast with her other hand. "But it's rare to find connection in art, where it counts." She sighed. "Teacher doesn't like you."

"Oh?" I asked. I had an idea why. Carmine had more or less said it as well.

Instead of answering she got up and dragged me off into more of the park, bouncing her cute butt in front of me as she went. Without words, we ran around the botanical gardens. A naked girl with green skin can be quite a challenge in such a place, especially as I had her pink sombrero.

Eventually I lost sight of her. I wandered around in a daze taking photos of the plants. Some time later I felt the softness of breasts pushing against my back as feminine green arms wrapped around me to the sound of giggling. "Does this cactus have spikes?" I asked, only to find soft bites of her fangs on my shoulder.

Then she stepped back, I spun around to see her scratching herself in frustration. "Itchy," she said. "You feel like sandpaper. Lets," she looked into my eyes. "Lets go somewhere and help," she looked to my crotch. "help you with that."

Who was I to complain, though it was her who needed help.

"Your house?" I inquired, placing her sombrero back over her hair.

"Carmine is..." she shrugged, adjusting the hat to sit right.

"Carmine gave us her blessing," or so I guessed from the odd conversation before. "Or curse, I'm..."

"Not sure if there's a difference? That's Carmine." she grinned.