First Contact 18

George's mop bucket squeaked, occasionally thunking along the grooves in the tile. He tried to catch his breath, gripping the mop tightly. The office he had come out of went dark and the ad exec inside left, still tucking his shirt into his slacks. The man in his disheveled suit didn't glance at George as he boarded the elevator. George thought he could see a smirk on his lips, but couldn't be sure. He didn't want to let a look linger too long. George could still taste the man, the cheap scotch on his breath, could still feel the man's five-o-clock shadow scraping down along his neck. Sprawled out with his back on the desk, George had felt pens jutting into his back. The man had a rickety fan that passed a hot breath over him, doing little to abate the already high heat of early summer. But George wouldn't dare break the man's trance. Soon his hot breath was on George's neck, their sweat mingling as the man buried his face against George's shoulder.

They both had things to worry about, but not when they were fucking. The entire world fell away from his corner office as they gave themselves over to baser instincts. This was maybe the tenth time, and it had ended much the same. The ad exec would cover George's mouth, his wedding band just below George's eye. He would grunt and grit his teeth as he pumped his load into George, his fast thrusts slowing to a crawl until eventually he grew soft. Without a word, George would stand and slink back into his gray boiler suit. He'd zip it up just below his chin, slightly shamed, and go back to cleaning the floor. Once, he had stayed long enough to attempt small talk, but the executive had gotten angry, grabbing him up by the collar.

So now, he didn't try. Such was the world for people like him. Being careful. Accepting what was given. George sighed. He could feel the man's cum begin to leak out of him. His dick was hard, having not gotten a release of his own. But he tried to ignore it. Then again, he could take care of it now, he thought. He would be the one cleaning up the room anyway. Resolved, George pulled back someone's chair and produced a rolled up magazine from the inside pocket of his uniform. He laid it out flat on the desk, pushing away whoever's little knick-knacks. An illustration of muscular men peered up at him from below the title: The Raygun. The cover story was about cowboys on Mars, barely a scrap of clothing among them. Looking around just to be sure, George slowly unzipped his uniform and let it fall to his feet. He let out a pent-up breath as he began to stroke his dick. The cowboys smiled up at him invitingly from their Martian alien horses.

George shut his eyes for a moment, taking in the sensation, getting a little thrill from doing it out in the open, even if no one was around. He imagined what the cowboys might smell like, skin warm from the sun, dripping in sweat. Mars was a million miles away, nobody cared who fucked who. Earth was just a speck in the sky as one of the cowboys flipped him over in the red dirt. Martians came to watch the humans mating, commenting things like, "How strange," but getting excited nonetheless. George let out a little laugh, a grin working its way along his bottom lip before he drew it into his mouth and bit it gently. He reached back and slid a hand between his cheeks. The ad exec's cum made it easy to slide a finger inside. George gasped as he thrust his cock in and out of his fist.

From behind his closed eyelids, George saw a bright light. His entire body jolted, hair standing on end. He'd been caught. His heart pounded as his eyes flew open and he squatted down to pull his uniform back up. George didn't find an angry security guard or concerned neighbor. Instead, he saw a brilliant, verdant green light growing bigger and brighter by the second. Momentarily mesmerized, it didn't occur to him to run or seek shelter. By the time the thought did cross his mind, it was too late. The light slammed into the side of the building, right where the ad exec's office was. The sound of shattering glass and splintered wood echoed out through the empty building. A wave of dust and debris flew out along the floor.

Still standing there, cock out, George blinked in astonishment. Bunching up his clothes around his waist, he cautiously approached the doorway. The green light began to fade as he approached and by the time he was peering inside, he only saw what he would describe as an enormous seed. As he watched, a small panel appeared in the side of the seed and lowered down into a kind of gangplank. George took a step back as vines began to spill out of the opening. They scurried up along the walls and out through the door. He lifted his feet to let them pass under him, trying not to get tangled in their hurry. After a beat, George's senses finally returned to him and he decided to run.

Before he could make it very far, he saw something else emerge from the seed. Vines surged and knotted over one another until they formed a human-like shape. Where its head would be, he saw a giant flower, its petals the bright pink of an expectant mouth. George stumbled over a vine and landed on his ass. A wave of yellow dust issued out of the seed and George tried to clamp his mouth and nose shut. It was of little use, as he felt the unmistakable taste of pollen on his tongue. Without warning, George's heart began thumping against his chest. His breath hitched in his throat and his cock grew hard again, pulling itself up out of his waistband as it pulsed.

George no longer felt afraid. The vines ran up along his arms and legs like a lover's fingers and he couldn't help himself from chuckling. He looked up to see the giant flower looming over him. George felt a gentle push against his mind, a sensation he couldn't quite comprehend. He had the impression his brain was like a filing cabinet knocked over by an unwitting janitor, its drawers and their contents flying up into the air for anyone to see. "Can you hear me?" the flower said within George's mind.

"Y-yeah," George said haltingly.

"Pardon my intrusion," the flower said, kneeling down. "Your knowledge of this planet and your species' anatomy is instrumental in my mission." George nodded slowly, trying to keep up, but being distracted by his dick, which twitched urgently. "I come in peace."

"Seems like it," George said with a giggle as a vine decided to explore the inside of his armpit, wrapping itself up in the damp, red hair there.

"I won't be here for long," the flower said. "My people sent me to collect biological material from lifeforms like you. Hu-mans?" the flower said, getting the hang of unfamiliar words.

"Biological material, huh?" George asked. He took a deep breath and laid back, looking at the ceiling that was now covered in vines and leaves. The ad exec, George's bills, the ugliness of the world and its wars, none of it could penetrate the sweet-smelling yellow fog.

"I would be honored for you to be our first donor," the flower said.

"What do I do?" George asked.

"Only what is natural," the alien said. They brought a hand up to their flower and the fingers disappeared behind its petals. Their hand re-emerged, dripping in what looked like honey. They brought down the golden glob and touched it to George's dick. He felt like he might burst already, the warm goo dripping down his shaft and along his balls. George shuddered and laughed. The alien crawled up onto George and slowly sat back against him. George felt himself slide inside something warm and wet. "There is more material here," the flower said, "from another human." George felt something brush against his ass. "May I collect it as well?" they asked.

George spread his legs.

"Have at it," he said, smiling. Something akin to a tongue ran its way along the outside of George's hole. He let out a little moan. His face scrunched up for just a moment as something thicker, like a finger, entered him. It moved back and forth, making George's hands clench into fists. Sweat began to pour off of George, his hair dripping back onto the vines he laid on. The alien's arms elongated and sprouted buds that to George's surprise, undoubtedly had mouths. A vine wrapped around his throat and squeezed gently. The mouthed buds licked at his neck, some clamping down all along his skin. More of the buds attached themselves to his nipples and curled through his chest hair, tugging gently.

"Good lord," George said in shock as the alien took the entirety of his cock and began pulsing, sucking him as they brought their hips forward and back. George's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell back into the leaves. The rocking rhythm sped up and the sucking became a loud slurping.

George thrust up into the plant alien, grabbing their hips and pushing and pulling them rapidly. He stopped, slightly stunned, at the sight of the flower blooming. Its petals pulled back to reveal a bright yellow rod jutting into the air. The flower shuddered and that yellow rod twitched as it spit out a golden cloud that shimmered in the late night glow from the street. More of the pollen rained down on George. George's mind seemed to blink on, like a stubborn lightbulb that needs a few flips of the switch. He could feel what was on the flower's mind. A bit of trepidation. A sense of purpose, but a fear of failure. George realized he had never been so connected to another person in his entire life.

George gasped and muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" as he came. He moaned and his body convulsed as the sucking relentlessly drew out everything he had. George was somewhere between a cry for mercy and a laugh of pure pleasure as the alien finally stopped rocking. The alien stood, George's still semi-hard cock flopping against his thigh with a loud smack, glistening with the golden fluid.

"Thank you for your contribution," the alien said. The flower sealed itself shut again. "I apologize, you weren't meant to see inside my bloom. I was anxious. Excited."

"Hey, you don't have to cover up if you don't want to," George said. "I thought your flower was beautiful."

"That is kind of you to say," the flower said and stepped away. The opaque pleasure of the pollen cloud began to dissipate. George immediately felt the oppressive, smothering heat of the outside world again. Police sirens and fire engines blared down on the street. How was he going to explain any of this?

He wished he could just be lost in the pleasant sensation for the rest of his life. "I have an offer," the alien said, turning back to him. "I will need Attendants while I am here," they said. "I do not wish to harm anyone. I am merely a visitor. But I will need humans to help tend to the plants I produce, to speak for me."

"I'd say you might need that sooner than later," George said, walking to a nearby window. Looking down, he saw policeman staring up, scratching their heads.

"Right now, my seed is conditioning this space to be safe for me. Outside of it I will wilt and die." They motioned to the vines and little red buds that had begun to sprout along their lengths. They seemed to take deep, calming breaths. "Anyone willing to sacrifice their time for me while I am here will be taken care of, and will have as much pollen as they desire. Does this sound like something you want?"

George looked to the dark doorway of the ad exec's office. He looked over to this mop, which was now acting as a pole for a vine to wind its way up on.

Somewhere to be. Something to be. At first blush at least, it seemed to beat the hell out of going home to an empty bed and scrubbing toilets for cents on the dollar. He extended a hand to the alien, who processed for a moment before returning the gesture.

"Congratulations. You've got your first Attendant, " George said with a smile.