Alien

It comes in the night. The dead of night.

***

Something wakes me, and my startled mind races, reorienting itself. 5:48 AM. Almost time to get up. Brodsky is piloting, Mancuso is on watch. Our freighter is traveling 24,600 mph in its Hohmann transfer orbit's elliptical path. I sigh sadly at the realization that, even at this speed it will take four more months to reach Mars.

Already three months in, the four of us crewmen have settled into an easy daily rotation. 6 hours at the helm, doing absolutely nothing while the autopilot's computer takes care of everything; 6 hours on watch, though there is never anything to watch for; then 12 to do whatever we want. Like sleep and eat.

The three guys on board with me have all made it abundantly clear that sex is always in the offing. Tempting, especially with Ben, but I'm committed to Mike, who I'll see again on Mars. In 16 weeks.

Space is eerily quiet and I'd been sleeping soundly, dreaming of Mike, imagining our reunion. Looking forward to seeing him again, especially that special 9-plus inch part that gets hard whenever I want it to. Mmm.

I awake so wet, totally ready, but eschew a quick Jilling. Later. Time to get moving.

I hadn't heard Edwards leave, but when I peer through the gloom, his bunk is empty. To maintain our Circadian rhythms, the ship's lights mimic Earth's day and night.

I click off my alarm, slide out of my bunk, throw off my nightshirt, rub some deodorant in my pits, pull on the blue uniform top and pants, stumble into the bathroom and splash water on my face. Brush my teeth. Like every other morning for the last three months.

I catch my image in the mirror. Not bad for 28. I turn silhouette, push out my boobs and smooth my shirt over them. Nice; even I like them. I run a brush through my hair and make for the galley. The coffee aroma beckons.

Just as I am noticing the other odor -- unfamiliar, dusky and clammy -- I trip. Over Edwards. Or what's left of him.

I lurch back in horror. His head is skewed at an impossible angle and his guts are oozing out of the huge gash in his abdomen.

The hand that clamps over my face from behind is unlike anything I've ever seen. Ever imagined, even in my worst nightmares. Huge. Shiny purple tendons and muscles, only patchily covered by webs of gray skin. Claws.

Another arm surrounds me and lifts me up like I'm a toy.

The creature grunts with each lurching step towards the cockpit. It kicks Ben Mancuso's corpse aside rather than take the trouble to step over it. Ben, too, has had his belly torn open, and one arm ripped from his body.

As I suppress my gag reflex, I see the blood trail that leads to the cockpit. I catch just a glimpse of Allan's disemboweled body by the pilot's chair. I close my eyes to shut out reality. All of my shipmates are dead.

The monster stops in the anteroom, turns me, puts me down on my feet, and holds me fast with both hands gripping my arms. Any thought of escape is extinguished when the claws dig deep into me.

I open my eyes. And wish I hadn't. God! So revolting! 8 feet tall. Gruesome. Humanoid, with two arms and legs. Like its hands, its entire body has grayish-purple sinews stretched between silver-gray bones, all exposed between patchy webs of skin.

The creature's face is most terrifying. Gaunt, angular. Flared nostrils and a huge maw in which long, jagged teeth compete for space. Two black orbs, eyes I assume, have red centers that move as the beast scans me up and down.

It shudders and staggers. Recovers. Then shudders and staggers again, its knees nearly buckling. Something is wrong. Memories of sci-fi movies flood my brain, where the aliens were unable to adapt to Earth's atmosphere and perished.

Please, God.

Just as my fevered mind entertains the notion that I might survive another couple seconds, the creature cocks its head and sniffs. Sniffs again. Draws me closer and sniffs once more.

My sense of horror increases exponentially as the monster, sniffing all the while, lowers its head, its snout rubbing against my body. Moving down. Past my neck, past my chest, and past my belly, too.

To my crotch. I shudder, almost swooning when my legs go rubbery, but the beast holds me up as its nose bores into the cleft between my thighs. It inhales deeply.

I am stunned by the speed at which its hands release my arms, cross, grab my hips and turn me 180 degrees as it pushes me down on my back onto the floor.

Its knees are on my shoulders instantly, heavy. I can't move. I feel drops of something landing on my chest and trace the source to the gash in the creature's side. A serious wound.

Over the silent screams of terror inside my head, I hear my pants ripping. The air is cool on my privates, and I suddenly know what it smells. And likes.

My pussy, still dewy from my dream of Mike.

Feeling completely exposed, the desperate thought that I should have worn panties is extinguished by the realization that the monster would just have torn them off me, too.

Why am I compelled to look? No answer. I just am. I raise my head and watch in horror as the creature sniffs my cunt, rapidly. Fervently.

I recoil in revulsion when its tongue emerges. It is huge! Monstrous! Tubular. As big around as the barrel of a baseball bat. The same gray-purple shade as its sinews, but wet. Slimy.

Worst, it is prehensile.

I tremble, wincing as it slithers up and down my sex. When I instinctively try to close my legs, to protect my pussy, the animal moves it hands again, to my knees.

And wrenches them apart. I am splayed wide, and cringe, shuddering in horror as I feel its tongue begin to push in between the outer lips of my vulva.

The alien's sounds, half grunts, half huffs, become ever more avid as its tongue traverses my slit.

Though I have steeled myself against the inevitable, my neck lurches back, my breath chuffs out in a shriek, and I feel my soul wither and die as the beast's probe violates me.

Mike is big, his girth even more impressive than his length. But. Oh God. This beast's tongue is so huge it spreads me far wider than I've ever been. Ever imagined. It is slimy, slithery, and I feel it acutely as it undulates up my vagina. It pulsates with each beat of the monster's heart, and, as it inexorably wriggles deeper and deeper into me, my entire pussy begins to clench and pound in response to each of its throbs.

When the tongue bumps against my cervix, I flinch in terror at the thought that it will just keep going, tearing me, rending me, hemorrhaging me. Killing me, but ever so slowly.

It stops, thank God, and my head falls back, my cramping neck muscles unable to keep it up any longer.

The creature holds its tongue still, filling me completely. I feel my insides begin to tingle with each pulsation of the probe, and, as I lay stunned, frozen in fear, I become aware of the change.

The beast's breathing is more regular, less choppy and ragged. Its hands relax on my legs, and it shifts its knees to either side, off me.

My attempt to analyze what this change portends is obliterated by the feel of the elephant trunk-like tongue inside me rushing out, suddenly, rapidly. Completely.

I can't help but look, and see the creature draw it back into its mouth. It slurps and swallows. Then its tongue emerges again and snakes back into me. All the way. Once it plumbs my depth, it parks there, pulsating faster, seeming to suck at my insides. Then it withdraws once more, disappearing into that gruesome maw.

Only to emerge once more to invade my pussy.

Each withdrawal creates a vacuum in my vagina as it retreats, pulling its walls together, rubbing them against each other. They tingle, relieved to be empty, but then are rent apart, stretched too wide again. I feel my inner lips, drawn taut as a drumhead around its massive girth, pulled out each time the probe withdraws, then stuffed inside me as it slithers back in.

Over and over.

Then the beast quits pulling out completely. Who knows why? But I sense my situation is even more dire when the tongue ups its pace, cycling in and out of my pussy, ever faster and harder.

It dawns on me -- the realization that the creature is feeding on me, on my juice, and has figured out how to get me to produce more -- sometime after my first orgasm.

God help me, I try to fight it. So hard. But the combination of the tongue's girth, how it drags the hood of my clitoris along its entire length and over the tip, plus the incessant pulsing as the probe tongue-fucks me, it is all too much.

The tingles have already become acute, have passed the point of no return, by the time I even notice them. Helpless, I lay back transfixed as the fire kindles ever higher, growing and spreading until the conflagration consumes me.

When consciousness returns I realize the creature is licking my slit, coating his tongue with my juice, then sucking it into his mouth and swallowing. Over and over.

Having had its way with me, and finished cleaning up my entire pussy, the beast pauses.

What's next?

It must be over. I feel relief, ready, prepared to welcome death. To join my shipmates. I lay back, eyes closed, accepting my fate.

My neck arches back hard, my eyes shoot open, and a scream escapes my gaping mouth, as the tongue drives into my vagina once again.

After my 3rd orgasm I cannot help but appreciate the monster's keen intelligence. Maybe cunning. It is learning me, how I react. I can suppress neither my sounds -- sighs and moans -- nor my writhing, and the beast is altering how it fucks me based on my reactions. It is cannily discovering exactly what is most effective in making me climax. To produce the juice it wants.

Perhaps needs.

I realize that I no longer feel the drips of the creature's blood on my chest. I glance up and see the wound has scarred over, and seems to repair itself before my eyes. Which clamp shut when the beast makes me climax yet again.

As it laps up my copious cum, the animal shifts slightly, raising its hips. I cringe in revulsion as the creature's penis -- though it is alien I'm certain that's what it is -- prods my cheek.

10 inches long, tapering to a narrow tip. The same purplish color as the rest of it, covered with the patchy network of grayish skin. A knot like on a dog's cock at the base. Like its tongue, the creature's penis proves to be flexible, able to move, grab, change curvature and squirm in every direction.

It can also penetrate.

Perhaps the creature looks down and aims it, or just knows, but the tip of its cock unerringly finds my mouth and worms in between my lips. I keep my jaw locked tight as the soft probe brushes my teeth and gums. Pushing, searching, wanting in.

No!

I clamp my jaw yet tighter as the penis pushes harder against my incisors. I revel, sensing that, for the first time, I have an edge in my insane battle against this alien being.

"Ooowww-Umph!" I cannot help but yelp at the sudden, excruciating sharp pain when the beast's claw digs into my inner thigh. My cry of pain is truncated, however, squelched by the alien penis snaking into my suddenly open mouth.

My eyes tear over, both from the shock of feeling the tip squirming down my throat, and the humiliation of having lost. Been so easily beaten. Taken.

The claw embedded in my skin eases out, but stabs me again, deeper and harder, when I begin to bite the slithering skewer inside me. My mouth involuntarily opens at the acute, intense pain. The claw withdraws.

I understand. This monster, this alien beast, is going to fuck my mouth, and if I resist it will hurt me. Badly.

I feverishly try to imagine some way I can rebel again, do something to force the beast to kill me, ending this impossibly horrid ordeal. But my mind is struck dumb, rendered incapable of thought by the overpowering sensation as the tongue again plunges into my vagina. Penetrating to my very core.

As he -- I am now certain that it is a he -- cycles his massive tongue in and out of my pussy in just the way that he knows will arouse me most effectively, the beast starts moving his hips, pumping his cock in and out of my mouth. He synchronizes his motions, and his tongue prods my cervix just as the tip of his penis tickles my larynx. Then both slither back.

Then in again, out again. Over and over. The fucking, this alien otherworldly fucking, goes on and on.

I can tell by his ghastly sounds, huffing and grunting, that he is close. I feel the knot against my lips. Then, with a sudden grunt and thrust, he forces it, too, into me. His entire organ swells, trembles, then pulses as my throat is swamped in hot gooey liquid. Alien cum.

The beast grunts each time his cock burgeons and explodes, and rather than choke or drown, I choose to swallow. Over and over, as fully and fast as I can.

When it is finally finished, it raises its hips and the spongy, ooze-covered penis pulls out of my mouth. Devastated and choking, I raise my head to gasp for breath, and grayish liquid gushes out of me, running down my chin, coating my lips, face and neck. I collapse back, stunned, overwhelmed, and am aghast to realize that a part of me is savoring the piquant tartness of the goo coating my mouth.

The alien's tongue stopped when he ejaculated, but I hear myself moan when it starts up again. I'm suspended, teetering on a high plateau. Close. Very close. And the creature knows it. And hastens its coming.

I shake and gasp, twitch and moan as the inevitable arrives.

I surface to feel the beast licking up my spend. The creature moves his hips again, and I open my eyes when the drop of pre-cum dribbles onto my lips from the cock looming over my face. I'm simultaneously repulsed and fascinated. My mouth-- disobeying my mind -- gapes wide, and my head rises up to meet it. His penis slithers into me again. Taken by its texture, its tangy taste, I instinctively suck on it as he begins to cycle it in an out.

It is as before. The alien uses his massive trunk-like appendage to plumb my pussy, tickling and electrifying every cell. My hips move in cooperative opposition to it as it reams me, rising up when it plunges in, falling back as it withdraws. All the while his penis fucks my now-compliant mouth.

I randomly note how his cock isn't like a man's penis, with a rock-hard core covered by soft, sliding skin. The alien's core is more rubbery, flexible, yet firms whenever the beast pushes it into me. As my next orgasm builds, inexorably gaining momentum, I distractedly count his thrusts into my mouth. His penis begins to quiver at 11, to pulsate at 14, and at 15 he lunges, forcing the knot past my wide-spread lips.

He grunts and huffs each time his cock distends and spews, ejecting his ejaculate deep into my throat. As before I struggle to swallow fast enough to keep from choking on the glut.

When done, when finally done, he rises up, his penis slips from between my lips, and I raise my head as the cum floods out of my mouth. I pant and sigh, recuperating. But just as I begin to recover, regaining equilibrium, he starts tonguing me again. So skillfully, so knowingly.

Resistance is futile. I succumb again.

After my inevitable orgasm, during which I feel my glands clench, spasm, and release fully, the tongue pulls out and laps up all my juices. Avidly. When he nears the end of the cleanup job, his cock prods my lips and I open for it. For him. I suck it. I suck him.

And it all transpires anew.

I have no idea how long it goes on, but I can sense, feel, how consuming my cum provides him succor, sustenance. I sense gratitude in how he becomes more gentle.

I feel him growing stronger. He fucks my mouth more rapidly, his cock grows harder, seems to swell larger, and he ejaculates more alien semen each time.

He is healing, nourished by my cum.

I feel my belly swelling, protruding, filled to bursting with his spend as the sex goes on and on. Somehow it adds fuel to our fire, gives me strength to continue. Our inhuman dance of mutual sexual nursing goes on and on.

Until he ends it.

After he fills my mouth and throat with cum for the umpteenth time he rises up, off me, and moves to the navigation computer terminal. His claws are amazingly dextrous as he taps away. Blinding speed. I sit up, watching, wondering what he is doing and what is to come next.

The sudden spasm in my bowels is urgent, -- I've never eaten alien cum, much less so much, and my system is rebelling -- and I leap up, desperate for the toilet.

God, he's fast!

The alien is on me, his claw hand around my throat in an instant. My eyes plead with his, I beg, "Please!" helplessly, but it's the roiling rumbles in my guts that convince him. He releases me and I flee to the head. I slam the door as I desperately plant my butt on the john. Just in the nick.

The door crashes against the wall when he flings it open. He gapes at me as my intestines void themselves, the alien cum coursing through me. Completely. Then he nods and leaves, closing the door. Once the mess stops streaming out of me, I know I'm completely empty and the cramping eases. I clean myself up and rejoin my captor. He is intent, staring at me. Then he resumes pecking away at the computer.

Suddenly famished, actually weak with hunger, I walk to the galley and grimly ignore the gore and my dead shipmates. Nothing to be done at this point, and to survive, I need to eat. I punch the buttons that will deliver some chicken casserole. Not real chicken, but a decent facsimile produced from soya.

The beast has tailed me closely since I left the loo and, as I walk into the anteroom and sit down to my repast, it returns to the terminal.

He types so fast that I can't comprehend the images on the screen, but I see it's programming. His capabilities are obviously light-years beyond mine.

I am so consumed by struggling to keep my mind from contemplating my hopeless situation that I don't taste my food. The sudden motion breaks my concentration, and I become aware as the alien, huddled over the computer, begins to twitch, then jerk, and starts to tremble. It falls.

Then leaps up, staggers into the back of the ship and returns with a mattress. He flings it on the floor, and I am not surprised when he grabs me, puts me on my back, spreads my thighs, and pushes his tongue into me.

He needs to feed again.

Having been so overstretched for so long, my vagina is tender and his tongue hurts. However, I realize that this is my entire world now, that my only way to survive is to please him. Sensing that he needs my cum for sustenance, I try to focus on how his probe drags the hood of my clitoris over its head.

It doesn't work. My tissues are so inflamed and raw that the probe working in and out of me is painful, and, as I hadn't had a sexy dream about Mike to get my juices flowing, I'm not lubricated. Though wet and slick, the alien's tongue grates like sandpaper. I wince and thrash, trying to escape the pain.

I sense the beast's anxiety. It is not getting what it wants, what it needs, and doesn't understand why. What is different?

It tries harder, plunging into me faster and fuller. I gasp each time his tongue jabs my cervix, and finally yelp a strangled, "No!"

Needing it to stop, immediately, I curl forward and grab the huge tongue with both hands. As I try to hold it still, the creature huffs, but does stop it. When I try to pull the slimy pole out of me, however, the alien resists, holding it firmly deep inside me.

"No," I repeat, this time more calmly, and when I push on his tongue, he lets me guide it. I sigh in relief when it leaves my sore vagina and slide my hands to its terminus. I gently caress the tip, with just two fingers, the same two I would have used when I awoke needing relief after my erotic dream of Mike.

An eon ago.

I place the tip of the alien's tongue on my clit, and move it in an oval pattern, just the way I like it best. Three circuits clockwise, then three the other way. The creature, now my alien lover, proves a quick study and I remove my hands when he picks up the pattern.