Lesbian Alien Tentacle Sex

"Hey. Your number's been called," the director announced, the chrome vault door still emitting a soft mechanical hum from opening a moment before, leaking the blinding hallway light into the softer, dimly lit palate of my quarters.

"Ah--" A pathetic noise squeezed out of my throat. Fuck! I winced, yanking my sweater further down my body to cover-up any subtle sweat stains. "Hello, ma'am. Received."

Fuck! Fuck! My boss, the only person with an all-access card. It was the daily allotted free time after dinner and before curfew, and I'd been actively literally fucking masturbating.

My heart lurched as a peak of pleasure was reached, and I wriggled to reduce it, feigning respectful shifting into a more upright sitting position.

The vibrator up my vagina thrummed even softer than any of the spaceship's automation or electronics, slick and wet against my underwear and a deliciously tight from my angled hips upon the cushioned stool, hands gripping onto either side of the desk around my keyboard.

I ripped them away with speed to rival hyper-drive, and folded them politely in my lap, and swung the spinning chair to face her with the guiltiest air of utmost respect.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," she smiled, clearly thinking I was jumpy, oblivious about the deeper pleasure she'd interrupted. Go away. Go away. I couldn't turn it off without reaching for my phone, and that would be so suspicious--

"Don't worry," I shrugged, forcing a small, genuine laugh at the absurdity. Worry. Get out. Leave, please. I wasn't so close to orgasm anymore while embarrassed out of my fucking mind. "I was just reading up on the other species we've made contact with."

And it was true. My projector was absolutely littered in various paged with small-print text in English and ten other different alien languages about the new entries to the Class-A Intelligent Life Database.

The planetary location and history, the different recorded cultures, languages, and evolutionary history, physical description and attributes, political affiliations, and, in limited quantities, information on mating rituals, characteristics of arousal, and reproduction capability with other species.

And--her words sank in.

Oh. Oh! My number was called. Oh--shit. Okay.

I would be the human scientist making the first clinical-setting sexual contact between us and the newly consenting species, lapis tentaculum, or roughly stone tentacles, the scientific name approved by the species for human use. These ones were hybrid carbon/silicon-based, with a hard, chemically rock-like inner system, sort of like a skeleton formed with holes reminiscent of honeycomb. Soft, tentacle-like tissue permeated the protective inner latter and the humanoid body structure was more reminiscent of octopus flesh than human flesh. At least, that was the interesting scientific facts of the matter. I'd be describing things more--more--

Unique sensations I'd--neither of us had experienced. Alien reactions and responses to stimuli. New appendages humans weren't capable of. Would it be gentle? Rough?

It would be my first time with another species. I wasn't opposed to it, the opposite, actually, which is why I volunteered for this organization. Most of my alien exposure was with fellow crew-mates, but we weren't allowed to get involved.

"You are excused of all regular duties until observation hours tomorrow. Relax, shower, read a book. We joint-dock the ships, and then you have until the end of the day with their selected specimen in the observational chambers. If you want to leave early, you may."

Heat ran down my body at the hours and hours that entailed, and the vibrations in my core became far more prominent. I tried to shove it down. "So long?"

Usually a few hours were allotted.

"She wants to chat and get to know you first, and your profile has a high emotional capability rating and--oh, you'll love this. She's been meteorite-racing in a community club for three years now."

"No way!" I had been racing by myself and with others for like, five, and I even had a small plastic medal from a company-sponsored challenge. It was one of my favorite weekend activities.

"Exactly. I don't think anybody wants a formal timer to go off if you two are actively busy after chatting."

Yes, sure. That would be awkward. Most times, three hours were allotted for the experiment as a formality, because it tended to take half an hour at most before they politely called it sufficient.

We would--it might not be so cold, then. Sometimes it was like that, awkward to observe and surely more awkward to carry out--instantly and wordless and cold and clinical.

We would talk. Get comfortable. Like the lunch dates I'd been on and how my favorite hook-ups began--the tension would rise because we were there for a reason. We might get closer and closer while we chatted--she'd place a hot, damp hand--hand-equivalent and pull me close and we wouldn't even care about the two-way mirror and it would be real, and--

The buzzing between my thighs had me biting the inside of my lip, hard, and for a frenzied second I considered chucking something at the highest ranking official on a highly important ship in deep-space to get her away. Maybe the empty coffee mug, or my mouse, or my half-empty tub of lube so she got the idea.

No. Not yet. Not yet.

The vibrating was persistent and heartless and building, building, against my will.

Stop. Stop. I could--I could hide the twitching if it happened, surely. I could--I squirmed.

"What's-what's her name in our language?" I cursed the stammer and felt heat in my cheeks. Not yet. Not yet.

"She's translated to Eve. Her profile was received. Think of her as another young woman--she/her and female-equivalent. So no reproduction compatibility--the species is just consenting to observation of sexual arousal. No pregnancy risks."

"Yes, ma'am."

She nodded. "Anyway, full debriefing is on your projector. View at your leisure. I'll leave you to rest."

"Got--got it."

She lingered a second too long, and stepped back into the hallway, the vault-like door closing shut and plunging the room into the cozy dim lighting once more. And privacy.

I lunged for the phone like a madman, turned off the vibrator, and slid off the stool to kneel and pulled it out, whimpering only a little at the sensation.

It was over. It was done. I was desperate--I wanted to shove my fingers around my clit and turn it back on, and to a high, high setting to make up for the unexpected high-stakes interruption in the edging session, to feel good again and chase it, but I--

I think I better save it for tomorrow. Something--something in me really hoped it would be worth it. Something more in me knew it would be worth it.

...

A curtain overlaid and, for now, blocked the two-sided mirror. When it was gone, it would reflect the room back to us, and provide a window for the others.

A window for us leaked in the gentle light of the vast stars and warm-silver galaxies beyond the ship's reach.

The floor was soft, thick carpet, as comfortable as everything else.

It struck me I never paid attention until I was inside.

The large chamber was pale-cream upon the walls with rich brown and red furniture and fixings, with universe-famous artwork plastered on the walls, and a primitive television playing generic instrumentals in the back.

The big couch cushions were soft and thick, the leg-rests extending out to mimic a bed if the experiments so desired. It paled against the king-sized mattress, comforter impossibly thick and adorned with rich, inviting autumn-toned pillows and blankets, drawing the eye to the center of the room where it laid. Dark reds and burnt oranges and yellows and hints of rich purple made me feel like I would be laying upon the warm, delicious-smelling breezes of a beautiful fall day on Earth. The palate must have also been catered to the coral environments of Eve's largely marine society.

And just as she struck my mind, her blurry profile-picture on the debriefing striking my mind--

"Hi," said a low, deep feminine voice, just as the air-lock sealed shut behind me. Only a small pulse of the collar strapped around my neck revealed the universal translator converting her words in my brain to a familiar language, and the moment I spoke, it would do the same to her.

She was humanoid as most intelligent life was, evolution somehow favoring a certain end-pattern for even throughout different galaxies, even with differing proportions and environmental tweaks and oddities.

She stood beside the far table by the opposite airlock, resting upon a small expectantly, big doe eyes gazing up with excitement and expectation, her brown so deep it was black as deep space and glittered under the fluorescent lighting. Love-seats and smaller cushioned chairs laid around her.

"H--" My voice cut out.

I realized far too late there had been no notes on fashion preferences on her profile and no textile information on the species.

They don't wear clothes.

She is not wearing clothes.

She was a little taller than me, with her skin was a blue-gray-green, iridescent and almost shimmering as it caught the light differently with each minuscule moment, glistening from high water moisture and packed with many wrinkles and folds, the species carrying around plenty of fat for warmth when underwater.

Her hair was a dark blue like the earth's deep oceans, long and thick in yarn-like braids, and her feet had a series of webbing instead of toes, as did her fingers, tracing gingerly upon the table's wood patterning. Two arms, although thicker with blubber than an average human's, and her legs, too, were plump and long, firm with the majority of the body composition muscle. There were two large fat gatherings on her upper chest, basically a boo b, but they shared a nutrient-water with their young instead of producing milk, and they each had a complex sensitive nerve system for pleasure.

Fin-like webbing lined between each inner thigh and leg, down to the ankles, attachable for mermaid-like movement in the water.

And, shaped like the end of an octopus's tentacle, on each hip, her sexual appendages sat, clear and erect similar to a human's penis, and just as sensitive as her breast. Thick at the base, it connected to the body, they trailed off, and had a series of dark spots, visually reminiscent of suckers. I could only imagine exactly what they were for--extra grip when body-to-body? I shivered.

"Hello," I managed to try again, my eyes scanning her up and down and sucking the siren-like alluring beauty in before they could tear off her figure and up to her actual face.

She half-collapsed backwards, melting into the chair with her laugh, sharp shark-like teeth evident. It felt like the ice had broken all around us, and I bee-lined straight to sit in another chair close to her, fascinated when I realized my own laugh paled in comparison to her melodic whale-song that underlined her human-sounding giggling. I wanted to explore new unique sounds she could make. And as her own curious eyes raked down my figure, I bet she was wondering the same.

When I stretched my fingers a little too far on the armrest, her own came to rest on it, emitting a surprisingly and comforting heat.

"What got you into meteorite racing?" I asked, genuinely excited to meet another adrenaline junkie.

We talked like old friends, the thick privacy curtains remaining firmly over the mirror. There was a remote somewhere in here for a button to raise them up and consent to observation--so we weren't stifled with the feeling of being watched from the very beginning. I didn't see it, so she must have had it. She'd take care of it once things got steamy.

Her flesh squeezed around mine, and I felt a throb in my core.

We tried to chat, and we did our best, but the comfort and familiarity was just instant. So the conversation did not last long.

One moment I was giggling the ship gossip, and the next she was climbing over the table to my chair and rubbing all over me. My clothes were off, our hands slapping and clashing as we both tugged and tore off fabric with a feral frenzy. I laid naked as her.

"Come on," she whispered against my neck, emitting a low, purr-like frequency, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair at the feeling of the translation rumbling against my sensitive throat paired with her warm breath. "I'm glad it's you. I need to know."

"Me too," I managed, rubbing my hands on her, feeling every inch and memorizing it, already thinking of weekend meetings and cross-ship visits and dual tickets to conventions and planetary downtime.

She dragged those teeth up and down my neck and throat, tenderly, little more than a delicious tickling that spread entirely across my body. I couldn't tell if it was a natural reaction or a special quality of her spit. I pulled her close, she bit deep into a shoulder, squeezing my ass. I moaned at the feeling. This is right, I thought, the familiarity of it all a little shocking. Even across the universe we desire so similarly.

The dissatisfaction from yesterday rammed into me. "More," I could only gasp, squeezing each tentacle tightly, trying to pull her hips, her entire body closer.

"We--ah," she could not speak, her shrieked gasp delicious and ending in a deeply instinctual moan, wet against my boob as she began to bend and slump against me, scooting herself from sitting on the table to sliding onto my lap entirely. "We insert--ourselves into the openings. On my sides. Squeeze like that, that's good, that's really good--"

"I--oh." A shiver overtook my entire body as I gently pried a finger into one of the numerous dark holes. It was pitch-black but with a distinct wet shine and it was tight. A strangled sound erupted from Eve, and I pressed even harder and this time, she writhed, bucking against me.

Like an entire tentacle covered with inside-clits or vagina openings. Blood rushed to my stomach. Fascinating. Beautiful. All I could do was stare down at it, new and alien all at once.

They began to swell, grow, extend, extend, extend, until two long tentacles wormed their way from her body to wrap around mine, coiling towards my exposed privates.

"There?" she guessed, and all I could do was swirl a finger inside one of her holes as I nodded.

She felt it just as she pressed a tentacle against my clit and wrapped the other one around my thigh to spread it open, and she jerked against my most sensitive spot.

I gripped her and stuck all of my finger in, and removed it, and rammed it in again, and she twitched violently and sporadically against me, and when I moved her tentacle in a circular motion, she picked it up beautifully, rubbing against me in beautiful slick circles.

"Fuck," I groaned, biting down on my lip. She pushed harder, and I gripped harder, adding a second finger to the hole. Her eyes bulged, like nobody in her species had ever considered that before, but a pleasure-drunk fogginess entered her gaze, and a dopey, satisfied smirk tugged at my face. Sweat dripped. "This is good. This is good. Fuck... I might cum fast--"

"It's--it's blood," she managed after a moment. "You'll touch a bit of--" the translator stopped before it settled on bone, "and--and it'll prick you and you'll leave a drop and it will feel so, so good. It's my--" and again, the technology hesitated before deciding on orgasm.

So intimate--to hear her raw speech as it was before it appeared in my brain in English, to recognize the lust even in completely alien vocal chords.

"We kiss," I slurred in the swirl of impending climax. "Humans kiss." Her mouth looked exactly like mine--but lips dark blue and inviting.

"Kiss?" She repeated the word in English, like her translator could not find a replacement for the concept.

I leaned in close, rubbed her hole as fast as I could, shoving my finger into different ones with a rapid, feral in-out-in, or spreading my fingers to reach into two at once, or took those two fingers and scraped gently inside, and I locked our lips.

I felt her gasp melt into a moan of understanding, and I felt my fingers hit something mildly hard and a small prick as the pleasure in my clit erupted across my entire body and all I could do was writhe and whimper against her as she spasm in her own pattern.

In the aftermath, her collapsed upon me as we both lay folded up on the cushioned seat, I felt her tentacles slowly retract, and I smiled at the pleased hum emitting from her throat.

My eyes filtered around the room, and landed on the closed curtains, where the scientists behind must have thought we were still chatting.

We were supposed to let them observe us. I shot up to sit straight, and displaced, she whipped around to follow my gaze, before relaxing. I looked curiously.

"They gave us so much time so casually," she admitted. "I really liked your profile and I--I wanted the first time to be secret. Just for us. Not for observation yet."

I smiled. Yet. She must have not clicked the remote on purpose.

"Of course," I winked. "I can go another round."