A groan was the first signal that he was still alive. Emmit touched his head where it hit the ground. Everything was in place. When he slipped and fell from the docks into the swamps of the mysterious planet, he assumed that was it. After all, several men before him had fallen -working in space was a dangerous task- and no one heard from them again.
Now that he was coming to his senses, he realized he was on a soft, weird surface. It felt slimy. But, all of him was touching the slime. He sat up quickly, getting dizzy in the process, and then his eyes zeroed on his body. He was naked. His hazard suit, gone. He panicked for a moment, but his erratic breathing made him realize that, hey, the air here was perfectly breathable.
Calming down, he looked at his surroundings. From the slime grew what he suspected were bioluminescent mushrooms, which were the only source of light. This allowed him to see that not only was he in a cave, but the walls, ceiling and floor were covered in -or made of- black, liquid vinyl. From every surface of the cave emerged several tentacles, that had no restrictions on the shapes and positions they could adopt. They rubbed against him, making him feel even more aware of his nakedness. His fight or flight reflex should be fired up by now, but he was still too much in disbelief, about surviving that fall, and somehow losing his suit in the process. He just had some scratches here and there, and felt a bit sore, but that was about it.
The black, slimy tentacles, despite seeming devoid of any emotion, were turning more affectionate towards Emmit. Maybe it was him projecting his feelings, because he felt all too lonely working on the research platform. Some of the female investigators had sought him out, but only for his body. He even caught them gossiping about his performance on bed, several times. If anything, the fact that no one cared enough to stick around and at least form a friendship with him, was what made him the most lonely.
The tentacles were rubbing against his body. He grabbed one, and held it in his hand. He brought it up to his cheek, and rubbed his face against it. Becoming the object of attention of some alien form could be his death, but damn if this didn't feel like a much-needed hug. This tentacle began leaking from the tip, black liquid falling down his face and arm. He wondered what was that. At least it wasn't dissolving him.
The tendrils started wrapping around his arms and legs, as if looking for something. Emmit's heart started beating faster, in a mix of fear and excitement. Another tentacle went around his neck, and then up his face, leaving a slimy trail. Finally, one of them found his cock. The tentacle seemed happy, to find something similar on the strange life form. 'W-Wait.' Emmit tried crawling away, but now everything was slippery, and the appendage was already sliding up and down his dick, causing it to harden at the pleasurable ministrations.
The tentacle acted endlessly entertained by the behavior of his member. It imitated its hardening, but relaxed again when this prevented it from moving around with freedom. It also slightly shape-shifted, adopting the form of a human cock, without losing it's black, slick appearance. It had been some time since Emmit got any attention down there, even his own, because his loneliness made him too sad to even touch himself. So now, despite his partner being a pool of xenomorphic tentacles, he thrusted against it, trying to make the frotting more intense. Both the human and the alien cock humped one another, with a second tentacle wrapped around them to squeeze them together. Emmit moved his hips until he had pre-cum escaping his tip, and the alien form was oozing a black liquid too.
He saw a shadow on the side of his eye. When he turned towards it, he saw it was a thicker tentacle, also shifted into the shape of a cock. It pressed against his lips, in an almost demanding way. Emmit stopped for a moment, to think. Was he bi? He had never had any interest in men, or their genitals. But also, did it matter? This felt good, and for all he knew, he was dead already.
He opened his mouth, and the appendage lost no time in exploring the cavity. It slid in and out, but never deep enough to cut his breathing, as if it knew not to asphyxiate him. It tried hitting against the inner side of his cheeks and the roof of his mouth, but what the tentacle seemed to enjoy the most was sliding, pressing hard against his tongue. Wet things liked to remain wet. So he started bobbing his head on the tentacle. It made him choke a bit, but also produce more saliva. Soon, both his and the creature's fluids were dripping down his chest.
He sucked on the tentacle's head and licked at the tip, finding the hole from where most of the liquid was oozing. What he decided to classify as pre-cum, became thicker the more stimulation he gave to that tentacle. Finally, the tendril seemed to enter a desperate state, and it went in and out of his mouth with complete abandon. The tentacle frotting against his dick adopted a frantic rhythm too, and soon, both tentacles shot long spurts of a black, thick liquid. His chest had almost a straight line, from his navel to his neck, of what looked like black semen. The one in his mouth shot directly into his mouth, but it came so much more than he could swallow, it overflowed, dripping down his chin. He was surprised to find that the fluid tasted delicious, yet it was hard to compare to anything he had eaten in Earth. He shivered, as he was also close to cumming, but he was left right on the verge, and it was as tortuous as it was delightful.
His eyes went to the ceiling, when the slime started gathering in a point, to form a big bulb. The bulb elongated, forming a tentacle almost as thick as him. Emmit was so desperate for more, for he was so close to his own climax, that he didn't panic. If that tentacle would hug him and rub his entire body, then he would welcome it. But then the tendril adopted another familiar shape. The curves settled into a feminine figure, with toned legs and firm breasts. A beautiful face where the whole eyes were as black as the rest of her body. The slime thinned until it formed spikes on her shoulders, and where her hair should be. Then it disconnected, leaving a woman made of black slime lying next to the human man.
Emmit observed her, licking the remnants of black cum from his lips. The alien watched him with attention, too. She scooted closer to him, until they were face to face. Until now, her expression was blank. But then she smiled. She examined his eyes, his lips, his ears, all of it while spreading the black fluids, and lathering Emmit with it. He found himself revitalized. He realized his body didn't hurt anymore. He even brought up his arm to check it out, where he had seen a bruise, but now it was good as new.
