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Author's Note!
Hello! I'm back! Suck it, four-year-long writer's block!
This is a continuation/sequel/next chapter. If you haven't read the earlier bits, you should. Because they're awesome. Also, you won't understand this bit at all if you haven't..... Hell, you know how these things work. No need to explain it to you. Next!
A heads-up: This story is long (loooong) because writing it made me very, very happy. (Long things often do, heyyy-oh!) (I mean movies, of course. And cats. Long cats are great. And pizza cheese strings. They taste better when they're long. It's science.) Just in case you're searching for a nice, short sexy story. This ain't one of those. There's ~65k words to come. And most of them aren't all that smutty, to be frank. Yes, there's freaky alien sex, but mostly, this is a sci-venture-omance-rama-omedy. incidentally featuring prehensile penises.
Oh, yeah, and lasty... It's literally been four (4) years since I wrote/posted the previous parts of this story. Due to cellular replacement, I'm halfway to being not actually the ship of Theseu- ...I mean, an entirely different person than I was when I wrote chapters 1-3, so if you meet any glaring continuity errors -- and you will -, please be a nice and friendly sphinx to them and give them a regal sort of wave as you let them pass by unquestioned? Thank you..
If you're still here... Welcome! Let's gooo!
*clears throat*
*majestic woodwinds*
Space.
A couple of miles behind the final frontier...
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"God. Fucking. Dammit!" I screech. And then I cough because screeching requires a lot of breath, and breathing in a lot while your face is very close to the ground is not a terribly bright idea.
You know how they say that teachers make the worst students, right?
What 'they' mean by that is usually that teachers are an obnoxious bunch of know-it-alls who are entirely unable to learn anything new from anyone else because they can't get over their egos, which are inflated to massive proportions by years and years of professionally being
right
all the time.
Personally, for me, that's complete bullshit.
I -- aka Teacher -- am a bad student solely because my current student-turned-teacher seems to think that
sitting on me
counts as an educational method.
"Get
off
of me, you big, fat, ugly toad!" I spit like an angry cat.
No reaction. Dammit.
Change of tactics. Maybe sympathy will help?
"You're huuurting me!" I sniffle a bit for extra effect.
A couple of quick notes on this scene.
One: The guy who is sitting on me is not fat. He's just close to seven feet tall and made of heavy muscle. And the planet he's from, they make muscle extra heavy, apparently.
Two: He's not hurting me (much).
I'm
the one hurting myself with my wriggling and trying to reach back to hit or scratch him with my unimpressive fingernails. I am very aware that he could very easily hurt me - and even more aware that he never would. (Much.) (Unless it was fun.) (And, let's face it -- it sometimes
is
.)
Three: He's not ugly, damn him. I mean, he's not "pretty" by human standards. He's got a short Mohawk made of quasi-sentient non-hair hair, dark amber lizard eyes, pointy teeth, a long, snake-y tail, truly freaky feet, and his bronze-gray skin is peppered with several scraggly scars and lumps of bone sticking out in odd places. He's not exactly GQ material.
But he's not ugly to me.
The very opposite, actually. Damn him.
And four: I'm only calling him 'toad' because the name I've been calling him by for a couple of weeks literally means 'Your Highness' in his language and I haven't yet forgiven him for leaving me in the dark about that.
He doesn't rise to the sniffly bait whatsoever, sadly doesn't respond to his brand-new name either, and leaves me to wriggle and try to get out from under him for another couple of minutes until my already relatively feeble strength is finally drained and my nose is so full of dust that I have a sneezing fit.
"What have you learnt, Teacher?" Rune asks me from above as I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.
(Classy, Ree.)
(Can't help it. I don't have a tissue in my pocket right now.)
Because I don't have pockets on me right now, because -- did I mention that we are both stark naked? Cause we are. Yeah, our teacher-student-relationship was
very
questionable even before Rune took a seat on my bare ass and called it a lesson.
(Of all the things he could do to my ass,
sitting on it
is what he chose. What a
waste
.)
I sigh at that thought.
Anyway. Where was I? Ah yes. What did I learn?
Well, I did
not
learn how to wrestle or grapple, which was my original idea. Both of my alien companions are really good at their Dryth-style Krav Maga and ever since our vessel was infiltrated by other aliens who wanted to abduct Rune, I have felt the urgent need to get a refresher on my self-defense skills.
Or should I just call it a 'fresher', seeing that my skills equal zero so far? I mean, I can sucker punch a bitch along with the best of them, but that's basically it.
In any case, I have learnt
not
to ask a Dryth to teach me wrestling because he'll just sit on me for an hour and then ask me dumb questions.
"'Don't get sat on by someone who is heavier than you'?" I grump at him in answer to his original question.
"Yes," he agrees. He's infuriatingly immune to sarcasm. I'm starting to think that all aliens are because sarcasm is an exclusively human invention. "What else?"
I sigh. "'Keep a weapon at hand so you can stick the guy who sits on you with the pointy end.'"
"Yes," he agrees again. "What else?"
I mope, all out of ideas, and say several words that are startlingly creative but also quite impolite to the extent of casting me and my upbringing in a bad light and therefore shan't be repeated.
He relents and gets up. I think I can hear my hips and organs creak when his weight lifts off them and I give a groan of painful relief as I lie there like the useless pancake that I am.
"What else have you learned, Teacher?" he probes.