Author's Note: This is a work of pure fantasy.
The story contains sexual activities and situations between a human male and an alien female that are to be read only by readers above the legal age of consent. All characters having sexual relations are above the age of 18. Or whatever the legal age is on whatever planet they come from.
This is a story about a human that rescues the pilot of a crashed alien spacecraft, then finds there are some differences between them.
I started this when I got sorta stuck on the Katja series, and when I was trying to learn the word processing program I'm using now. It sorta helped to clear my mind doing something different and with learning about the new program. But, I started to really like the story and characters a lot, so I kept typing. Hope you enjoy it.
For convenience and to keep the story moving, mostly everything has been converted to English such as language, measurements and names, etc. etc. All the character names, and places are made up and were chosen from a fantasy name generator.
As are most of the stories I've written and will write, if you're looking for story that goes, "They met, they had wild sex, the end." I would advise reading something else, it won't bother me.
As I've said before, I don't consider myself an author, I'm just a storyteller that writes my stories down. So please take that into consideration when you read it, and it should be read like someone is telling you the story. I am not now, nor have been an English major, so the grammar may not be totally correct, but it is like people really talk, and I've never talked to someone that had perfect grammar.
I write for my enjoyment and for the people that like it. And please remember, this is pure fiction and fantasy. If you don't like how and what I write, oh well. Don't read it, my feelings won't be hurt.
For those of you that do like what I've posted so far, thank you and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
65rebel
My Alien Girlfriend (Part 1)
My name is Ryan Hayes, I'm 27, a little over 6-foot-tall and I have reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. I consider myself more or less average looking I guess, but I never really gave it all that much thought. I grew up in Pennsylvania and when I graduated high school, since neither I, nor my parents, could afford to pay for college, I enlisted in the Air Force. I figured I could do my time and let Uncle Sam pay for it.
After I finished boot camp, I went to school to be a Tactical Aircraft Maintenance Specialist. Basically, we take care of all the aircraft when pilots aren't flying them, ensuring they're repaired and maintained to be ready for any time they're needed. Once I finished the school and got assigned to a permanent duty station, I started going to college at night, instead of waiting for my enlistment to be over, to be an Aeronautical Engineer.
I had always loved planes and with what I was doing in the air force, it seemed only logical. It actually worked out pretty good as a lot of the schooling I had to learn for my job, crossed over for my degree and minimized some of the classes I needed to take for it. That was one of the main reasons I chose to be a Maintenance Specialist, I had looked it up before I decided on it and found that it would cross somewhat to the degree I wanted.
Once there, I also became really good friends with one of the other Maintenance Specialist's by the name of Stephen Manning. He had joined the air force for the same reason I did, and was doing the same, going to college at night while still in. So, since we worked and went to school together, we became really kind of close. We were both stationed at Creech Air Force Base in Nevada, and this is close to the famous, or infamous if you will, Groom Lake or as most people knew it, Area 51.
Once my first enlistment was up, I reenlisted for another four and once I finished that, I got out and I stayed in the area to finish up the little bit of school I had left to get my degree. Since we were best friends, Steve and I shared an apartment instead of being in the barracks, so it wasn't to bad finishing up. What with doing night school and some online courses while I was still in, it only took me another six months to finish up.
Then once I got my degree, with help from the college I got an entry level job in Phoenix Arizona at one of the many aerospace companies there. It was a good starting point for what I wanted to do, I was working on various interesting projects for them, the pay and benefits were decent, so I made a pretty good living even with it being just entry level.
I've been working there for the last year or so and I really fell in love with the whole area. Even if it's hot as hell during the summer, it was better than the winters where I grew up in Pennsylvania. I wasn't in any serious relationships, but there are a few girls I dated on and off, but I guess you can say I was a little bit of a loner. But in actuality, it was more that I was young, had a good paying job, and saw no need, what so ever, to tie myself down with one person right now.
Then since it was close, I would also take a ride a few times a year back to Nevada to see Stephen when we had long weekends. I'd stay at his place and we'd party a bit, chase girls, and play catch-up, then I'd head back to Arizona. It was on my last trip there that this story really starts.
It was the end of the labor day weekend and I was on my way back home to Tempe Arizona. I had driven out to visit Stephen like normal, and we partied a bit with some of the guys and girls we knew from the base and the college we both went to. After he finished his second enlistment, he still had another year of school left, so he re-upped for another two years to finish up and get his degree while he was still in. He still had another year or so left in and told me that he was probably getting out at the ten year mark, then he laughed and added that he'd had enough fun.
You see, the ten year point is the usual do or die time for most people in the military since it's halfway to retirement, it was either get out, or stay in the rest of the time and retire. I'd gotten out after my eight since I knew I wasn't staying in for twenty, and had only joined just to get them to pay for my college.
As like most times I drove there and back, I stayed away from the major highways and interstates if I could, preferring to take a leisurely drive back and forth. I was between the base and Las Vegas at the moment, and it was mostly a desert area with hardly anyone else on the highway as I drove back home. I had found that I really loved the desert area and I'd normally go camping and hiking by myself in the spring and fall when it was cooler.
The fact that there wasn't really anyone around didn't bother me either driving or when I went camping, like I said, I was a little bit of a loner. I had a "Get Home Bag" in the back of my SUV that had some food and water in it, along with other survival and camping items, and I always made sure I had a full tank of gas before I left to go or come back. So right now, I was just sitting back relaxed, listening to music and driving at a steady pace with the cruise control on, not in any real hurry what so ever.
I smiled to myself thinking, 'Gods I love this.' I'd had a wonderful weekend with my friends, I had left Friday right after work and it was Tuesday morning now as I made my way back home and I'd still have off to the following Monday as I took the whole week off. I was about a third of the way home, when I started hearing a real hi-pitched hum.
Thinking there was something wrong with the vehicle, I turned down volume on the stereo to listen closer. Then I glanced at the dashboard and everything seemed alright, all the readings on the dash gauges were good and there were no warning lights on. I checked to the left and right out the windows and didn't see anything, and it didn't feel like I was getting a flat or anything wrong with the steering, but the hum was getting even louder.
I finally glanced up at the rear-view mirror and slammed on the brakes skidding to a stop. In the mirror, there was a some kind on black aircraft coming up fast and low on me. I opened the door and quickly got out and as I did, the aircraft flew low over me still going fairly fast. It was triangular shaped and sort of a slate black color; it kind of reminded me of one of the F-117 Nighthawk stealth aircraft I had worked on a few times, but it was slightly larger and had no real wings or a tail that I could see. So, seeing how close I was to Area 51 and Groom Lake, I figured it had to be some sort of newly designed plane they had developed and they were testing it. Once it was past me, I saw there were two nacelles running front to back and on either side the craft. The one on the left side sort of glowed with a light red aura to it, but the one on the right side of the craft didn't and had some smoke trailing from it.
As I looked at it, it kind of reminded me a little of the shuttle-crafts on the old star trek TV shows and that got me to thinking about aliens and UFO's. I had often wondered if all the stories we heard were true when I was in, being as close to Area 51 as we were. I had always sort of figured that there were other people someplace, hell, it was a big damn universe and to think that we were the only people in it, seemed a bit egotistical and arrogant to me.
I watched as the craft kept going away from me, seeming to slow down slightly and heading towards the desert. Then once it was about a quarter mile from where I had stopped, I saw the right hand nacelle that was smoking, flash brightly and I heard a sharp boom. Then I saw the craft heading downwards toward the desert and it did a sort of... controlled crash, into the ground and I watched as it slid along the ground piling the desert sand up in front of it until it finally came to a stop.
Worried, I quickly got back in and headed down the road to the where it had crashed and hoping that the pilot was okay. I stopped once I got to where it crashed, it was maybe fifty yards or so off the road, and I put my SUV into four-wheeled drive, then headed into the desert. I drove up near to it, but far enough away for safety-sake, then I got out and went to the rear compartment and opened it. Besides food and water, my get-home-bag also had a really good first-aid kit; you don't go camping in the desert alone without being prepared for anything. But mine wasn't one I brought off the shelf, I had made it up on the advice of one of the medics at the base I was friends with, so it was pretty complete to treat someone for injuries and what have you. I got the kit out of my bag, then unclipped the fire extinguisher I always carried in the back and headed over to the craft looking out for any fires or anything else that might be dangerous, like rattlesnakes.
Once I got closer, I looked the craft over to see if I could find the access hatch to get to the pilot. Then I saw that the nacelle that blew up had ragged holes in it and leading up to the hull by the cockpit. That made me wonder if that was from the explosion or something else, I had seen some of the planes that had come back from gulf one time that looked just like that from missile hits or anti-aircraft fire.
'But why would they be shooting down something here?' I thought to myself. Then I wondered if the craft might had been stolen or something. I shrugged, 'Or just maybe... it wasn't one of ours.'
