Queen of Jarilo

The smell of a lover's hair as he plunged his face into the nape of her neck, an orgasm wracking his body. The feminine musk of an ex-girlfriend's loins as he kissed her inner thigh, subtle at the time, now amplified tenfold. The perfume that his first date had worn, the flavor of her lip balm when she had kissed him. There was the taste of sweat borne from lovemaking, the scent of a woman, an entire language that had gone almost unnoticed in those fleeting moments. His conscious mind had barely registered them, his partner's bodies communicating with his own in ways that neither of them had ever been aware of, passing each other notes while their higher functions had been so distracted by lust and yearning.

He felt a tongue curl around his erection, a pulse of pleasure washing over him, powerful enough to force his eyes closed. A chorus rang out through the room, if a smell could have been deafening, then this pheromone would have made him cover his ears.

<MALE.>

They knew what his erection was, what it was for, and the sweet pheromones that leaked from his pores served only to goad them on. They could literally smell the arousal on him, and he could smell theirs, creating a feedback loop of sexual signals that was building towards an inevitable crescendo. The Workers smelled this way for a reason, his brain was interpreting their scents accurately enough. They were all females.

Much like in an ant hive, the vast majority of the Betelguesians must be females, with the reproductive males housed somewhere else in the colony. The winged Drones, that must be the answer, they had to be the males of the species. On Earth, the winged males would leave the ant colony to find new Queens and fertilize them, their only purpose in life being to mate. The Drones, Workers, and Warriors were all females who were usually incapable of reproduction, but that depended on the species. It was the Queen who decided the ratio of males to females in her hive, secreting a chemical that retarded wing growth and ovary development in her larvae.

The Betelgeusian reproductive method must be similar, there must be a Queen in this maze of tunnels somewhere, laying eggs as she presided over her growing brood.

Why then were the Workers so excited by him, and by the prospect of mating? Was it his own fault, did the winged males have a high standing in this society, and were any needs that they announced tended to? Was Walker releasing male pheromones as a result of his arousal, and not by conscious choice?

Perhaps the females desired to mate at all times, and the winged males were kept segregated in order to prevent unwanted or unsanctioned reproduction? Perhaps this was a higher function. They were sentient creatures, after all, they might just want to get laid now that they had a male on hand.

In any case, he now had a foot of muscular tongue wrapped around his erection. The other Bugs watched their sister as they blinked their wide, blue eyes at him. There were two dozen hands stroking him, rubbing his chest and belly, massaging his shoulders. The Bugs liked to be petted, and so did humans, their methods were not so different. Every so often one of the Workers would lean in and nibble at him with her mandibles, pinching his flesh as she licked away his sweat, as if testing whether he was edible or not.

The Worker who had wrapped her sinuous tongue around his cock drew it towards her mouth, more of her sisters crowding to either side of her, their own organs shooting forth to wet his balls and his belly as their ornate horns jostled. Their probing was exploratory, curious, but no less stimulating as they left trails of their thick saliva that clung to his skin with the consistency of liquid soap.

He felt the Worker's mandibles crawl down his shaft like hard fingers. They looked sharp, but they were actually very dull. They might be vestigial, perhaps at some point in their evolutionary history, these insects had been able to eat solid food. Beneath the mouthparts was discolored flesh, pink and soft, the oral opening resembling a vagina now that he thought about it. It was a vertical slit, usually protected behind the closed mandibles, now splayed open by her tongue. Strands of thick drool hung from the orifice, falling to wet his member as it pulsed an inch from her strange lips. She pressed his tender glans against the hole, scarcely large enough to pass her tongue. As a jolt of pleasure rolled through him, he wondered if it would even fit. What was she even trying to accomplish? Was this the way that they mated, or was she actually trying to pleasure him?

She pulled him in, her coiled tongue and her finger-like mandibles gripping his member, now slippery with clear goo. The head of his cock broke through with a pop after a moment of resistance, the sensitive underside scraping against her smooth tongue, and he was met by a suction that forced a gasp from his lips. The fleshy inner lining of her mouth was pressing down on him from all sides, warm and coated in her saliva, slimy and with the consistency of gel. It felt like someone had taken a condom that was a size too small and had filled it with KY jelly, and now they were attempting to fit it over his member. Unlike a human mouth, the cheeks were not to either side, but closing around him in every direction. There was no jaw, no teeth, just a muscular tube designed for sucking out liquid food. She used that powerful suction to draw him deeper. She was like a damned vacuum, her muscles rolling up his cock in waves. She got about halfway down his shaft, that syrupy drool leaking from her mouth to wet his pubic hair. Their messy coupling would have been impossible without the aid of the thick lubricant. God, it was like the tightest deepthroat imaginable, and he was sharing the narrow passage with her roiling tongue. It was about as thick around as his member at the base, before slowly tapering into a thinner and more worm-like organ as it neared the tip. It was as soft and as smooth as the human equivalent, wriggling and twisting as it jostled for space, inadvertently licking and teasing as Walker loosed a pained groan.

Her sisters watched intently, their expressive eyes fixated on his member as it jumped and throbbed in her mouth, the rest of the group continuing their licking and pawing. He now noticed a definite affection in their fawning, it was no longer merely exploratory, now the soft strokes of their fingers on his torso and the wet kisses on his neck and belly were distinctly sexual. He smelled like a male, and that was apparently enough to draw the entire room to him, to lock the Bugs into a kind of reproductive trance. He hoped that they weren't all expecting a turn, he would pass out from exhaustion before he even got halfway through them. If that was their intent, then male Betelgeusians must be sexual powerhouses indeed.

He winced as his partner succeeded in pulling him deeper, her mandibles splaying open as she took him to the base, their dull points pressing into his thighs. She let her long tongue loll, hanging limply from her mouth, the slimy organ resting on his balls.

There was a back and forth to a conventional blowjob, whereby the giving party thrust the receiver's member in and out of their mouth in order to stimulate them, but there was none of that here. Rather than bob her head on his shaft, the Bug trapped him in there, taking him as deep as she could manage while her rhythmic sucking made stars dance before his eyes. It felt as if she was trying to draw his emission from his body through her suction alone, the fleshy tube that was her throat growing tighter and tighter as her muscles milked him in rolling waves.

The thick saliva was pooling on the soil between his legs, matting his hair and coating his loins like she was trying to cast a mold from liquid silicone. It was so viscous, so stringy, and yet it did not seem to be hardening. When they used their secretions to seal the dirt walls of the tunnels, it solidified into a tough material that resembled clear plastic. Now it was remaining in a liquid state, warm and gooey like hot glue. Did that imply that they had some measure of control over its properties?

Her lips were sealed around the base of his member, her sucking relentless, her tongue rubbing against his sweet spot in just the right way as it pressed against his glans from below. He wondered if she would ever need to come up for air, then remembered that insects breathed through pores in their abdomens called spiracles. She could potentially keep this up indefinitely, never needing to take a breath. She couldn't choke, and her entire digestive system was designed for drawing liquid from the source. Perhaps humans and Betelgeusians could find common ground after all...

There were a dozen tongues worming their way across his skin, seeking out his pheromone-laden sweat as if it was some kind of ambrosia to them. As fate would have it, the smell seemed to be concentrated around his erogenous zones, leaving him shivering and jerking as they dragged their slimy tongues across his most sensitive anatomy. He had given in to the pleasure now, his reservations forgotten. It just felt too good to resist. He had struggled to keep the attention of one woman in his life, never mind a room full of them. While his conscious mind knew well that they were giant insects, their scent was intoxicating, as if they had bottled the smell of femininity itself and were using it as a pungent perfume.

One of them loomed over him, its four hands stroking his chest, and it sat across his belly as its sister continued her remorseless sucking below her. Walker was propped up by the Bug behind him. They might only be around four feet tall, but they were incredibly strong. This new one put herself at eye level with him, her shell a light blue in color, with pink discoloration around her mouth and her wide eyes. They were not glassy and vacant like those of animal, they were bright and alive, and she met his gaze as she batted her long lashes. Her mandibles opened, her tongue slowly extending, ropes of her saliva hanging from it as it neared his mouth. He wanted to pull away, to turn his head, but her smell was so inviting at this range. The scents were accompanied by memories, the smell of an ex-partner as he pressed his face between her ample breasts, the taste of her sweat on his tongue.

The blue Bug took his face in her lower pair of hands, gentle and dexterous, her palms cool against his warm cheeks. She pressed closer, surprisingly tender, her long organ pushing against his closed lips as she sought a way inside. He gave in, opening his mouth and allowing her sinuous tongue to worm its way in, brushing against his inner cheeks and his palate as she began her clumsy explorations.

She pushed her face up against his, her mandibles gripping his cheeks like a hand, a shiver of pleasure coursing down Walker's spine as a foot of pink tongue piled into his head. Her flavor was sweet, with an aftertaste that reminded him of honey, and he suppressed a gag as she licked the back of his throat. Her drool clung to his chin, dripping forth to roll down his naked chest in fat globs, the kiss so deep and lascivious that it made his head spin. It was as if she had emptied a bottle of personal lubricant into her mouth before leaning in for the kiss, it coated her tongue in a slippery layer as it coiled around his own, woefully small in comparison.

All the while her sister nursed at his cock as if she was trying to pull it up by the roots, a tight tunnel of form-fitting flesh clinging to his member. He could feel every twitch, every spasm, shooting into his brain like a hot knife. He felt his hips thrusting of their own accord, attempting to push deeper, but she clung to him so tightly that her head simply moved in tandem. She was like a goddamned barnacle.

The salacious kiss dragged on, his eyes watering as the Bug pushed her way into his gullet, giving him no respite as she painted every inch of his mouth with her sugar-flavored slime. She didn't give him room to breathe, her mouth locked to his and sealed like two docking spacecraft. She might not know how lungs worked, and Walker felt fortunate to be able to breathe through his nose.

He felt another of the insects nibble his hip with her mandibles, her tongue darting forth to taste his skin, the one that was sitting behind him pushing her wet organ into one of his ears as she rubbed her face in his hair. Fortunately, her prehensile tongue was too thick to get very deep. They did not have ears that Walker could see, and they wouldn't be aware that sticking things in them was a bad idea. Instead, she withdrew, licking his neck and pinching his earlobe in her mouthparts as she fussed over him.

Someone's fingers were tracing his spine, he couldn't see whose, and another of the colorful Bugs was sucking one of his fingers. The stimulation was making his nervous system short-circuit. There were too many sensations at once, coming from too many sources. He was overwhelmed, awash in tingling pleasure, his mind taking a back seat as if to watch what was happening to his body from a safe distance.

The Bug that was straddling his belly finally released him from her sucking kiss, her long tongue sliding out of his mouth like a giant strand of spaghetti, linked to his lips by a thick rope of her saliva that broke and fell heavily to his chest. He felt something strange against his stomach, wet, and looked down between her segmented legs.

The Bugs had a conical structure on their groins about the size and shape of a small pear, and Walker had dismissed it as being part of their exoskeletons, a kind of chitinous codpiece. Hers was now opening, splaying wide to reveal pink flesh that glistened with moisture, like three fingers parting as they exposed her leaking hole. More clear juice flowed from it, the same consistency as her saliva, pooling on his belly. These were her genitals, he realized, so alien as to be barely recognizable. The three fingers were prehensile it seemed, pressing flat against his skin and seeming to kiss him, smearing her juices on his stomach as they sought out his member. She was out of luck, however, as his erection was still lodged in her sister's mouth, the eager Bug's muscular throat keeping up its ardent sucking.

It was becoming too much for him, and he felt a pressure welling in his loins, the incessant massage of her silky passage pushing him towards the edge. It was as if a firm fist was rolling up and down his shaft through the damp silk of her throat, the contractions and the rhythmic squeezing of her muscles enough to daze him, her tongue struggling for space as his swollen member filled her to capacity. His hips rose from the dirt floor, frustrated by the weight of the Bug who was sitting upon his belly, watching him intently with her alien eyes.

A jolt of wracking pleasure tore through him, causing him to arch his spine and grit his teeth, an orgasm so raw and intense that it could almost have been described as painful cramping his muscles.

He felt her react as a flood of his warm ejaculate filled her mouth, her cheeks squeezing tighter, drawing it out of him as he bucked impotently. He expected her to break away, to let the wad of milky come leak from her mouth, but she held him there as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. It was as if she enjoyed the taste of it, perhaps she liked the salt or the protein, who knew. What he did know, was that she was sucking the emission from his body with a force that made him feel as if his nervous system had been hooked up to a jump drive.

His muscles tensed over and over, burning as they expelled load after load into her eager throat, splashing against her velvet flesh in quantities that Walker would not have thought himself capable of producing. It just kept going, his body coursing with tingling electricity, every pulse and throb met with stronger and more ardent sucking.

It was finally over, and he awoke as if from a dream, his afterglow drowning him in euphoria. The Bug withdrew with some difficulty, his member leaving her mouth with a wet pop. It was swollen, he could feel it as it throbbed in the air, she must have drawn more blood into it with the force of her suction.

She had not spilled a drop of it, leaving him clean save for the slimy saliva that coated his lingering erection in a thick glaze, and he twitched as he felt several of the nearby Workers lean in to examine him more closely. Their prehensile tongues left their mouths, gliding across his skin, made slippery by the alien goop. They seemed disappointed, expectant. Their sister had been greedy, and she had kept all of his honey for herself.

The extra stimulation sent an aftershock rippling through him, making him groan as his body tensed one last time, releasing a bead of ejaculate that welled at the tip of his glans. Immediately they set upon him, their worm-like organs coiling and battling with one another as they jostled for a taste, scouring his tender flesh as he lay back and basked in the ecstasy of it.

Well, he had jumped into the deep end now. Fraternizing with the enemy was one thing, letting them blow you was quite another. This was one experience that he intended to leave out of his reports. He felt a little dirty, a little ashamed of himself, but it was a knife too dull to cut through his post-coital bliss.

The Bugs did not seem to be done, however. They watched him expectantly, the scent of their emotions filling his nose. They wanted something from him, expected more, and he was able to make out something new that was woven into the pheromones. It was more than a smell, more than a simple emotion, complex and nuanced. A word, a concept being communicated through the medium of scent.

<GIVE.>

The realization shocked him. It was language, he had learned his first Betelgeusian word. Elation added to his lingering sense of satisfaction and euphoria. It might not have been a significant achievement was this a language like any other, learning a new word in French or Elysian would not be anything to write home about. But this...this was a word learned through an entirely new sense, as if he had reached a hand into the aether and had plucked out an entirely new concept, a new frame of reference.

What they wanted was obvious, but his erection was diminishing, the Workers looking on in disappointment. Apparently refractory periods were not in their vocabulary either. The one who had drunk from the source so to speak, was sitting on the soil between his parted legs, apparently satisfied as she licked her mouthparts. The others crowded him, now knowing that he was capable of producing something that they wanted but unsure of how to make him do it again. The female pheromones were overpowering, he felt like he was in a trance, but his body would need time to recover. Fifteen minutes usually did the trick, and then he'd be ready for round two. There seemed to be no other option than to indulge the restless creatures.

Never the less, their hands roamed across his body, testing every inch of his skin. Fingers groped his thighs, traced the contours of his abdominal muscles, drew shapes on his palms and ran through his hair. They treated him as if he were a machine to be figured out, trying to find the button or the command that would spur him into action, make him repeat his feat. Tongues lashed at his neck and belly, more of the Bugs leaning down to examine his loins, their winding organs teasing and stroking as they fought each other for space.

If the Admirals themselves had shown up at the door and had ordered him not to enjoy what was happening to him, he doubted that he would have been able to comply.

He gritted his teeth as the Worker that was sat upon his stomach ground her hips against him, her strange loins still leaking their thick juices on his skin. The scent of it rose to his nose, like liquid desire, an invitation too tantalizing to resist as his brain associated it with all things luscious and enticing. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, and yet he felt himself getting hard again, his cock bouncing with the beat of his heart as it flooded with warm blood. Her fluids were like an aphrodisiac, it drove him wild.