“Lie back,” I urge her. She does as she is told, her hair forming a beautiful red crown around her head as it spreads out with the rest of her. Her thighs part at my urging, and then my mouth is upon this concrescence of female delights.
I taste and I tease. I discover the way she shakes when my tongue finds a little bud hiding at the apex of her inner lips, and how her hands reach for my head, her fingers curling in my hair as she holds me close. All females have some kind of sexual response designed to increase their likelihood of pregnancy. We call that orgasm. In Kristine, her breasts and her neck and her face flush bright red, and her legs shake, and her moans become ragged and harsh.
“Fuck, fuck, fucking, oh my fucking god!”
She begins to curse and writhe, until keeping her in place becomes a challenge even for me. My hands clamp around her hips and keep her still as I feed at the chalice of her sex. There is a dew there, a honey sweet liquid which tastes to my alien chemistry like the most delicious elixir on all planets. The closer she comes to climax, the more she produces, and the more I am fed by her delicious juices.
My mating rod is vigorously and dangerously erect, but this first encounter must be for her. She must trust me, and understand that I can give her pleasure, so that when I inevitably bring her pain, she knows that there is a light in the darkness. This little human has no idea what my appetites entail, but she knows now that I am capable of taking care of her. I have saved her from certain death. I have nourished her. And now I am pleasuring her to the extent she is shaking from head to curled toes, her wails and cries causing little airborne dinosaurs to take flight on scaled and feathered wings.
“Wow,” she breathes as I relinquish my oral connection to her core. “You’re so very good at that. How are you so good at that?”
She is a delightful mess, her lower lips swollen and wet and engorged, traced with her own wetness and the lapping of my mouth. The effects of her climax can be read all over her body, in the little bumps over her exposed skin and her erect nipples which are like two pink pebbles standing erect.
“I am a student of pleasure,” I tell her.”
“You’re a fucking king of pleasure,” she smiles. “It’s been forever since I felt anything like this. It’s so good. I’m so…”
She yawns. She is tired. Or more likely, exhausted. After the ordeal she has been through, and the pleasure she has just enjoyed, she is ready to sleep.
I draw the bedding over her and tell her to rest. Her eyes are closing almost before I’ve finished the sentence.
Two
Kristine
I don’t know how long I spend asleep. I do know that when I wake up, my mind is a jumble of thoughts and memories. My body anchors me, still throbbing with little quivers of what was the holy shit best orgasm ever.
He laid me down and he pleasured me until I came. There was no discussion. There was just the regal exploration of my body, and the most powerful climax I’ve ever experienced. I don't know what he’s going to do to me next. When I open my eyes, he’s not in the room. I am alone. There is light coming in the window, so I either slept all night long, or only a few minutes. It’s hard to tell.
I turn over in bed, which is much more comfortable than I would have thought, and my eyes fall on the chest. What did he call it? His exploration chest? It really doesn't look like it belongs here. It looks shiny and new, and clean. It looks like it belongs to a completely different world, but happens to be manifested here.
Rex told me not to touch it, but there is something about this chest which makes me want to open it. It’s not that I don’t have boundaries and can’t respect other people’s. It’s that there’s a mystery in the corner of the room, which might hold some kind of clue as to what the hell has happened to me. Sweet orgasms aside, I have been yanked out of my reality super roughly, and I am wondering if I will ever return to my old world.
I pad out of bed as softly as I can, on bare feet. I am still naked, though I pick my bra up off the floor on the way and fasten it because flopping about is damn uncomfortable. Having once more regained control of my breasts, I crouch down in front of the chest. It just looks like a normal chest to me. I mean, normal in the physical sense.