It's Legal on Other Planets! Ch. 03

Author's note: So it's time for some confessions on this story. I want people to read it. I want people to enjoy it. But I want them to know it's pretty light reading, and should be enjoyed that way. Call it a stroke story if you like.

I feel like I'm doodling. No, really. I'm not literally drawing, but it's about the same thing. Still, there are plenty of artists whose doodles I enjoy, and so in that vein I figured I'd share. I am really glad that people have enjoyed this story so far, I sincerely hope readers enjoy this, and I am genuinely sorry that it has taken me so long to catch up with it... but some of that was because of other projects, and some of it was because I simply see so many problems with this story. Don't look too closely, or you'll see those problems. I think this is fun in spite of all that, but again, literature this ain't.

There's plot and character development here, and also a whole lotta sex in this chapter and the next (I'm putting them in together, so they should post on successive nights). Sooner or later there'll be fistfights and explosions and all that. I can't promise to stay on this story with dedication; I've got a sequel to write for "Good Intentions." But sometimes I just need to stretch the writing muscles in a different direction, and so I write something else.

As an aside, I've got my entry in the Nude Day contest (Justice In the Raw!). Please give it a read and give it a vote if you're so inclined. It's a stand-alone piece, it's fun and sexy, and I'm fairly proud of it.

Also, please note: This story absolutely will, eventually, involve Alyssa getting it on with others. It's not gonna be about Kyle dumping her for being a slut or a whore, and it's not gonna be about him beating up her other lovers/clients. If such is not the story for you, please go no further.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three: A Great Benefits Package

There was a guy screaming things at me that I didn't understand. I had tried really hard to pick up on Pashto and Dari and failed pretty miserably at both. There were demands and threats and simple words, but I couldn't really make them out. The gun that he held to my head spoke for him just fine, though, and really I had other things to concentrate on.

The woman in front of me had her legs spread with the baby crowning. This had started out all wrong for her, and she was in a lot of pain, but it was starting to look like she and her kid were gonna come out of this okay as long as nobody got trigger-happy and blew my head off before I had the baby out.

Four or five other Afghani guys occupied the tent. I was pretty sure that they weren't supposed to be in there at a time like that, but maybe that's all they had. One of them held a lantern, another held a flashlight. Everybody was freaked out. I presumed that the guy yelling at me was either the woman's husband or father and there seemed to be some genuine care for her in his voice and his eyes. That pretty much spelled out the whole situation: baby comes out okay, mom comes out okay, or I don't go home ever again.

There was also Eric. Him, I understood just fine. "How's we doin', Doc?" he asked, still on his knees with his hands behind his head, which was itself covered in a burlap sack.

"Better'n we were an hour ago," I said with some trepidation. The conditions were terrible and our hosts were freaked out. I was worried that one of them would shove me aside in a panic at any moment and fuck all this up. "How's the leg?"

"Foot still moves," Eric answered. He'd been on his knees since they pulled us both into this tent. I had been in much the same predicament, but at least they understood that I needed to shift around to reach for things. I wasn't the one shot through the calf, though. They'd done a pretty sloppy job of seeing to his lower leg, and they wouldn't let me take care of it. Eric was tough. He didn't complain.

Somewhere in the distance I heard a helicopter. I told myself that nobody had given up on Eric and I, that we were gonna be found. We hadn't slept since we were separated from our unit. It wasn't like we had been gone long or been taken far away. Hell, it wasn't like our hosts were being quiet, either.

Mother screamed. Husband-or-father shouted, weak and threatening all at once. His buddies all started shouting things. I shouted things, too, telling them to chill, telling them to just give me more time, telling them it'd be alright. They didn't speak any English, though, and like I said, my Pashto was shit. (Hell, it was so bad, I wasn't even sure they were speaking Pashto.) Maybe I was just trying to convince myself not to freak out.

It wasn't easy. I was as goddamn scared as I'd ever been.

The baby crowned. He came out healthy and whole. I'd say he was beautiful, but honestly I'm just not into babies. Husband-or-now-grandfather clearly felt differently. He succumbed to teary relief and pulled the AK back from my head once I had cleared the baby out and got it wailing. His dudes seemed to all breathe a little easier, too, but things remained pensive. I grabbed for my bag, pulled out my clamps and goodies. Took care of the cord as soon as I was sure it was safe. Took care of the afterbirth.

Eric stayed quiet. He never asked if it was a boy or girl or anything. I really don't think he gave a fuck, and honestly, I didn't, either. I might've felt differently if they'd just asked for help. There, guys. Have your fuckin' baby. Can we go now?

Then the bag came over my head. They didn't bind my hands, but a pair of guys held each of my arms as I was dragged out. Lots of pushing, lots of hauling. I heard Eric right there with me. I was shoved, lost my balance, lost track of the ground underneath me. Tumble, tumble, ow, tumble, ow. I realized, before the rolling and bumping ended, that Eric was in the same boat.

It hurt. A lot. Only I didn't really feel it. As soon as I was sure I had control of myself again, I took the sack off my head. We were on sloping ground, all dirt and low scrub plants. Dawn twilight began to light the sky.

I checked on Eric, who skidded to a halt right next to me. "Aw, that fuckin' hurt," he groaned as soon as I had his head free. He'd suffered a nasty abrasion on his forehead, banged up his cheek, but thankfully nothing seemed broken. I set to looking at his leg.

"Think I twisted my fucking ankle on the way down," he said. I gave it a check, which only left him biting back growls of pain. It was convincing enough for me. I left it alone for the moment. "Any idea where we are?" Eric asked.

"Can't be far from where they grabbed us," I muttered. I fumbled around in my pockets, but they'd taken practically everything. The assholes didn't toss any of our gear down the hillside after us. "But no, they bagged me before they picked me up."

"Think we were in a cave. Had to be a cave."

I didn't look up from my work. They really had put a sloppy bandage on him. I threw off my outer shirt, yanked off my wife-beater and made a better bandage out of it and my belt. "Would they set up a tent inside a cave?" I asked.

"These fuckin' morons...I wouldn't put anything past 'em anymore," Eric grunted. "Fuckers kidnapped us to do somethin' we'd do for anyone an' then turn us loose like this soon as you're done. Assholes."

"Well, I don't want to hang around for them to change their mind on it," I grunted. "Can you limp?"

He nodded. I heaved him to his feet, letting him lean on me for support, and within a couple of steps I decided that it wasn't going to work. There were a couple of embarrassed words of protest, but a moment later I had him over my shoulders in a fireman's carry and we were headed down toward the valley.

"You're gonna get a fuckin' medal out of this for sure," Eric finally said after about ten minutes. It meant his sense of humor was returning, which was good.

"LT and Gunny Beehan gotta admit that they were stupid enough to put us in a position to get kidnapped in the first place if they're gonna do the paperwork for medals," I huffed. "You really think they want Battalion to hear about this?"

"Been gone too long to hush it up," Eric mused. "Ain't like the captain would put up with that shit."

"He's got more important things to worry about than medals," I grumbled. We came down to what amounted to a bend in the path, rounded it...and found a sleek, black chunk of obsidian floating in the air in front of us. It was shaped sort of like wings, and it was big enough for lots of people to jump inside.

There were green guys lined up in front of it. They didn't speak right away, or maybe they did, it's hard to tell. Then one by one they all asked if they could nail my sister.

Eric grunted. "Should've stayed in Afghanistan, bro."

Dreams leave us with these moments that tell us things are too fucking weird to be real. You realize you don't really live in this house anymore, or that should have hurt more than it did, or there's no reason what you're doing should actually work. That dream left me with a bit of a double-take; there were aliens, yes, but not in Afghanistan. I'm not in Afghanistan anymore. I'm in bed.

I stretched. Turned just a bit. Realized someone was sleeping next to me. Then I became aware that someone else was on my other side, too.

"Yum, he's awake," murmured Stacy on my right. I felt her hand run down my chest, down past my stomach, slipping between my right leg and my groin.

My first attempt at speaking came out in a bit of a mumble. I tried again. "You been waiting for me?"

"No worries," Monica said, crawling in closer on my left and putting my arm around her. "We've only been awake a few minutes. Been giving each other deep, meaningful looks across you."

"Don't let me interrupt," I said, but then Stacy interrupted me with a kiss. She started out soft at first, but then moved in for more. Her hand between my legs got friendlier. It was a great way to wake up, but, "Hey. Wait. Sure I got morning breath. Lemme go fix this."

"No morning breath," Stacy assured me, leaning in on me more. Those incredible breasts of hers pushed up against my chest. "No morning stink. You're as delicious as you were last night." She kissed me again, deeper this time, waking me up quite effectively as Monica caressed my side.

Her mouth came off of mine, trailing away across my cheek and then along my jaw. "Huh," I said, "I should have some stubble by now."

"Nope," Stacy said, nibbling at my neck. "Smooth and soft and fuckable."

"You've been 'adjusted,' remember?" Monica grinned, biting a bit on my shoulder. "The benefits package goes a lot further than just stamina."

"Someone's got a lot of 'splainin' to do," I grinned, then put my arms up over my head and stretched. Waking up in a bed to that stretch was still something of a treat; I'd had a whole lot of mornings on hard ground in the middle of nowhere before this. Yet now I was getting that feel-good morning stretch with two hotties lying against me.

Stacy rolled the rest of the way on top of me, claiming me like I was her new body pillow. I glanced at Monica, who merely smirked and gave a bit of a shrug. I was about to say something, but then I felt Stacy's wet labia slide around against my cock—hard as ever, naturally—and it gave me a trouble in speaking.

"You don't get out of this bed 'til you get off," Monica told me gently. She leaned in and kissed me as Stacy lightly dragged her nails against my chest, knowingly teasing me with the grind of her hips against mine as she rose up on top of me.

"Yeah," Stacy sighed, clearly enjoying the sensation of teasing my sex with hers just as much as I did. "Sex, then breakfast. I'm cooking."

"I can cook," I offered.

"No. Stacy can cook. You can get a shower or you can fuck more," Monica corrected, "or both. Those are your options."

"I don't get a say in any of this?"

"What've you really got to say?" Stacy grinned. She lifted herself up a bit to slip one hand between her legs, guiding my cock up into her. The resistance her body put up allowed us both to savor the moment as she slowly took me inside.

Long, heavy breaths later, I said, "Rule applies to all of us. No getting up 'til you get off."

"I plan to," Stacy assured me.

"All of us," I corrected, looking at Monica. I held my hands out to her, giving a meaningful nod of my head. "Together."

"Oh," Monica smiled. Just watching her slip up off the bed was a treat enough; I could stare at her face and body all day long, and Stacy's too, even if that was all I got to do with either of them. Luckily things had gone much farther than staring and drooling. Monica's smooth brown leg slipped over my head, lowering her sex down toward my mouth as she faced Stacy. I hadn't quite determined how far their relationship went yet, but they were clearly best friends with benefits. Had I not been with them like this, I'd have been insanely envious.

My hands slipped up over Monica's hips, grabbing her ass as my lips came up onto hers. I heard her moan as I tasted her, finding her wet and ready much as Stacy had been. I'm all for a good round of foreplay, but both of these women were so ready to go I suspected they'd had much in the way of the same 'adjustments' I'd had.

Stacy's cunt rose up and down on my cock, enveloping and massaging it with every stroke. I heard noises from her, too. From both of them. Each of them needed a hand against my chest or stomach to steady herself, but past that I couldn't really tell what they were doing. I imagined they were making out, or just staring, or touching one another. Maybe they looked at one another through fluttering eyes. Maybe they grinned in wicked triumph and high-fived. I had no idea. With Stacy occupying my cock and Monica tempting my mouth with the taste of her sex, I had no way of knowing what else was going on and I really couldn't have cared less.

I tilted my head back to push my tongue as deeply into Monica as it could go. As they had predicted, I had more stamina for all this than ever before. Monica started letting out noises of pleasure loud enough for me to hear even with her legs around my head as I ate away at her. Stacy did, too; she used me like her favorite sex toy.

I felt Stacy get off first. Her cunt clamped down around my cock, spasmed and throbbed, releasing further warm fluids all over me. The sensations of her orgasm forced my own. I pumped up and into her without the slightest bit of control over myself. Monica came in a wet release as well, though with my mouth right there to taste her moist rewards, there was considerably less of a mess.

Monica slid off of to one side, slumping against the pile of pillows Stacy had left behind when she climbed onto me. Stacy kept riding me, though slower, savoring the aftershocks of her climax. I let her use me to take care of myself. Monica's pussy was still close enough to kiss; I turned my head and leaned in, gently nuzzling and licking her labia and her clit.

So all night long, in the back of my mind, there was this troubling thought: I really liked both of these women. Not just as playmates (although holy fuck were they amazing playmates). Not just as eye candy. They were both smart and funny and each of them had a wonderful energy that I just wanted more of in my life. I really wanted them to stay around, at least as friends—and obviously a whole lot had gone on that could take things well past friendship.

Except there were two of them, and there was Alyssa and everything going on between her and I. Could I really build a relationship on something that started out with straight-up fantasy sex? Could either of them know I was being genuine when I was so ready to just jump into bed with them like this?

This was fun. So much fun. It was warm and reassuring and intimate, and you can tell me I'm mushy or whatever, but I felt us bonding. At least, I was bonding to them. Clearly some of that was biology. Some of that was much more.

Except, like I said, there were two of them. I was afraid this whole thing would turn out to be bittersweet. Then they blew those expectations away like all the others.

"Oh wow," Monica panted, feebly reaching forward to put her hand on my head encouragingly. "Uh. Stacy?"

"Yeah?" Stacy whimpered.

"This is gonna go way past the weekend, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," Stacy mumbled, her tone conveying utter surrender.

"Might get complicated," huffed Monica.

"Nuh-uh. There's enough of him for us all to share."

My heart soared. Monica twisted to take her delicious pussy away from my mouth, curling up beside me while Stacy's sex squeezed mine and her hips rolled around to indulge in our shared afterglow. I didn't really think too much about what she meant by "us all." I was too blown away by the more obvious implications.

"What do you think?" Monica asked. "Can you handle us both?"

I was suddenly out of breath. "Really?"

"We aren't talking about moving in together or anything," Monica shrugged, caressing my chest. "But yeah. We like you a lot."

"Yeah," Stacy agreed with a dreamy nod. "This is too good to stop."

"No other expectations," Monica told me. "No other rules. We just keep this up with each other and see where it goes? Doesn't always have to be both of us at the same time. We don't always have the same schedules. We might both see other guys. Might not. We're not even asking you to be exclusive with us."

"Just wanna keep seeing you," Stacy murmured. "We like being close to you. You feel good. Safe. Normal rules all went out the window when the aliens showed up, anyway. Why stop?"

"Can we just give this whole deal an open-ended duration?" Monica asked.

"You know I'm not gonna say no to this," I told her.

"You might. Might be one of those guys who thinks sluts are fun to play with but not for anything like a real relationship. Might be a one-woman guy deep down. Might be too freaked out by all this to want to make even a casual commitment to keep dating. Three-ways are supposed to be one-time things, not ongoing arrangements, and there are reasons for that.

"But Stacy's right. Rules aren't exactly the same here. This feels good. It feels safe. We're both career-focused women without a lot of time for high-maintenance guys, but we'd both really like to have someone fun to play with... and we wouldn't mind sharing. Neither of us have time to be selfish, anyway. You're a great guy and you're clearly able to satisfy both of us. So why not? I think we'd all have even more fun with this if we didn't feel like there was a clock on it."

"I'm crazy about both of you," I told them flatly—or at least as emphatically as I could with Stacy still working my cock. "I feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now. Yes. Yes, I want this to keep going."

Monica crept in to smother me with a long, deep, delicious kiss. Stacy already had her own intimacy well underway. "Nice guy with the nicest dick," she sighed happily, slowly rocking on it with her eyes practically rolling back.

Our other bedmate smiled. "You should know," Monica said, "that Stacy's a college debate champ and a certified Mensa member. So she's obviously quite eloquent."

"And a slut for this cock," Stacy moaned shamelessly.

"This might be too much for my ego," I warned.

"You gonna be nice to us like you've been?" Monica asked. "Treat us like equals? Not take us for granted? All that?"

"Hell, yeah," I huffed.

"Then no worries. Like I said last night, you need a little ego-boostin' for your new job. It's kind of a requirement."

* * *

Shocking as it may sound, I stayed in bed after getting Stacy off again to have some more fun with Monica. It was Stacy's idea, really; she slipped off of me, said she wanted a nice long shower before she made breakfast, and playfully rolled me over into Monica's arms before she left the bed.