Taken By The Aliens Ch 03

(

Alternatively, the Book Store, Chapter 10.5 or so. It fits into both worlds

)

Alison always looked forward to her family's annual summer holiday at their cottage. It had been a mainstay of her childhood, something consistent, something familiar. Her father had travelled for much of his career, spending a year in Ethiopia, or France, Peru, Martinique; friends had been so transitory, Alison didn't have any growing up because she was never in any place long enough, and realized at a young age that forming these bonds was useless, she'd be half a world away and would never see these people again. But, their cottage on Ahmic Lake in Northern Ontario was always a place that she could return to. It wasn't so far north that you couldn't get there in more than a few hours but it was far enough from the cities and far enough removed from the highways that people didn't just stumble on it by accident.

Her parents bought the cottage when Alison's oldest brother was born and they knew that they wanted a place they could return to, that would always be home no matter where they were in the world. It had changed little since they bought it; new wiring, new furniture every so often, heaters for those unexpectedly cold nights, and even air conditioning for the outrageously hot ones. Alison had spent enough lazy summers there watching the kids next door grow up, the Christian camp across the lake change owners and denominations so many times she wondered why anyone thought running it was a good idea. She'd heard the same people singing the same songs, unseen, for years as their voices carried over the still waters of the lake.

Alison smiled as she kissed her fiance good-bye; Josh was dropping her off a couple days before the rest of her family was set to join her. Alison was looking forward to the peace and quiet after spending the majority of the summer covering for the new kids at Books and News, and when she wasn't working in the store she was working on her own writing and freelance projects, which left her with... not enough down-time, real down-time, do nothing but sit and look at a fire or watch mist drift over the water in the morning. Star-gaze and make up stories. Dance under the light of moon around a fire.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Josh asked.

"Are you sure you don't have to be back in Toronto in the morning for your presentation?"

Josh smiled. "I just thought I'd ask. I know you've been eager for some Alison-time."

"I have. It will be good. I have my laptop, and they got wifi installed last summer. I've been meaning to finish some of my short stories and I think I can polish a couple of them up before my parents and brothers arrive on Tuesday."

"Are you sure you have everything you need?"

"Positive."

"Everything?" Josh winked.

"Go!" Alison laughed. "Traffic is going to suck enough for you getting back."

"Alright," Josh smiled, "I love you. I'll text when I get back home. If you need anything just call, I'm only three hours away."

Alison kissed him again and hugged him close.

"I'll be ok. I'll see you next week, my love."

Josh got back in his car and did a lazy three-point turn in the cottage's driveway. He waved out the window before turning onto the road.

Alison's phone buzzed in her back pocket.

"Oh for fucks sake."

Did you make it to your cottage ok?

It was Chris.

Yes. Just got here now.

Her work-husband, occasional fuck-buddy, stress-reliever and she sometimes hated to admit, really good friend, had been feeling a little neglected of late.

Want company?

CHRIS. Stop. I swear I'm going to block you if you don't knock it off.

I know I know you're being good now.

She was; after getting engaged Alison had put considerable effort into being a better partner. It didn't deter Chris as much as she thought it would.

Besides you don't even know where I am.

Mmhmm.

Alison didn't like that

Mmhmm

very much, she didn't trust it. What was Chris thinking? She got her keys out and opened the front door. The smell, oh the musty, lived-in but only sometimes smell, the lingering smell of the woodsmoke. Alison started turning things on - the fridge was running already, her parents had been up a few weeks earlier for a jaunt, and the cases of craft beer on the floor spoke of her brothers having been as well.

Her phone buzzed again.

Does this look familiar?

There was a photo of Chris, a much younger Chris, standing in front of five birch trees.

Alison looked past the trees across Ahmic.

What the fuck?

Yeah I used to go to the camp across from your cottage. If you can see the cabin like.. to the left of the main one I used to sleep there. I had the best blowjob of my life there, lol.

*I* didn't suck your cock there, so it couldn't have been your best ;)

Haha no I mean like, best of my life at the time. I was 18. I told you about her, Good Christian Ex.

Oh yeah.

Small world though. Like when I was working out west and you were in Moose Jaw and I 100% ate at the restaurant you worked at. I would have remembered if you were my server so I think I wasn't in your section or maybe you were off. But yeah the world is full of weird coincidences. Especially when it comes to you and me.

Alison sighed.

I'll let you go... I know you're being good, but if you wanted to get drunk later I would be down for it.

We'll see.

And if you wanted to send me some pics I wouldn't say no.

No.

Dirty chat?

No.

Fine drinks it is. And if you change your mind I am ok with it. Be good and productive unless you don't want to be. If you do decide you want to see me I'm only 2 hours away.

It's a three-hour drive!

I drive fast, lol.

Bye.

Alison made her way to her room and started unpacking. The single bed was just big enough yet for her to stretch out on comfortably; she thought about stealing her parents king-sized bed until they arrived but it felt... wrong somehow to not sleep in her room. The chipped paint on the desk, the dream catcher she made when she was eight. She looked out out the window and across the lake. She squinted and could see the five birch trees Chris was standing in front of. She looked left of the main cabin and saw, tucked behind some trees, the cabin Chris would sleep in.

Was I up here when you were getting your cock sucked?

She did some math in her head and realized she would have been twelve at the time. Gross. Stupid Chris.

She unpacked her laptop and set it in her desk, but she didn't want to write, not inside at any rate. She changed into camp clothes (flannel and jeans) and went out to their small private beach. The Bunkie her parents built when she was a teenager stood a little ways from the main cabin. Her brothers kept inviting friends over and some extra space had been needed for anywhere from four to six smelly teenaged boys. Alison rarely ventured in there but it still stank like a hockey change room.

Alison looked again across the water; whatever the camp was nowadays there were a group of kids in kayaks splashing around trying not to tip over. She looked at the island she used to swim to in the mornings when Ahmic was cold and still, before her parents and brothers would be awake. But without fail when she got back her dad would hand her a cup or coffee and smile. Then they would sit and do nothing but enjoy the haunting cries of the loons on the open lake and the gentle lapping of waves on the shore until the rest of her family would get up for breakfast.

Alison busied herself preparing the firepit; she wasn't sure if she wanted to have a fire later or not but wanted the option and wasn't sure if she would feel motivated later, especially if she opened a bottle of wine.

She still wasn't in a mood yet to actually write. She knew she was procrastinating, she knew once her family got here she wouldn't have any time, but she also knew how much her body just wanted to relax and not do anything important. Matter won over mind; Alison drew a bath in her favourite bath tub (one long and deep enough for her to almost float in... and it had clawed feet). She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander, thinking about summers past at the cottage, the activities, smells, experiences that were "cottage," experiences that she had never had anywhere else, had worked themself into a kind of mythology in her head.

She grabbed her phone from the side of the tub. No notifications. She wasn't sure why, but this annoyed her. She started typing.

I was thinking...

?

Have you ever... this is going to sound weird, had dreams that you only ever had in one place? Like a recurring dream, but you only ever have it when you're at your grandmother's? Not that but like that.

I dunno I'd have to do a deep-dive into my subconscious or something. What are you doing?

Alison took a selfie from her clavicle up, the waterline kissing her throat.

Shit!

Don't get any ideas.

Too late. Is this an invitation? You have room enough in there for one more?

I knew I shouldn't have sent that.

I can leave now. The warehouse is dead, I'm not expecting anything else coming in today...

Stop it. I'm being good.

I'm not.

Alison's phone buzzed again. Chris' cock was rock-hard in his hand. Alison rolled her eyes.

You're at work!

I can leave right now.

Nevermind.

Alison put her phone on airplane mode. Chris was such a nuisance. He didn't even answer the question.

Alison picked her phone up again, but stopped herself from reactivating her wifi. She couldn't deal with Chris when he was being a perv like this. She went back to her chat with him and enlarged the picture.

Fuck he had a nice cock,

she thought.

Her hand strayed between her legs. This wasn't being bad, masturbating didn't count, and she couldn't control what people sent her. She scrolled back further in their chat history. He had filmed himself jerking off and cumming for her. She watched it a few times, her fingers playing with her delicate pussy. She watched his testicles tighten and his cock swell right before thick, white cum erupted from the head and landed on his chest. She watched it run down his stomach, ooze out of the tip and watched him stroke his cock with his cum.

She scrolled back further to a video he took of him fucking her. It wasn't art, Chris' POV, mostly just watching his cock thrust in and out of her while she moaned like a whore, begging for him to cum in her. It panned up to her chest. Her breasts moving rhythmically with each thrust.

Fuck.

Her breathing picked up.

"Mmmm, fuck," she purred. She watched her tits bounce as Chris fucked her hard. She squeezed her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, just like in the video.

"Fuck Chris, let me cum for you..."

The video focussed on her face as several spurts of Chris' cum splashed accorss her cheeks and chin. Alison smiled and licked semen off her lips and smiled.

"Good girl,"

Chris whispered.

Alison dropped her phone on the side of the tub again and covered her mouth. She was so used to trying to muffle her orgasms at the cottage, old habits died hard. She caught her breathe and cursed silently. Stupid Chris. She looked at her phone again.

Still no new messages. Still on airplane mode.

Alison got dressed in some comfy sweatpants, a white tank top with a loose flannel shirt overtop. She left her hair down. She was going full cottage mode now.

She uncorked a bottle of red and poured herself a generous glass. Not prepared yet to write, she grabbed a favourite book from her bag, Anne Carson's

Autobiography of Red

, and went outside. The sun was starting to set, though it wouldn't be dark until just after 8.

The smell of campfires was already starting to drift in from across Ahmic; pin-points of light were visible along the shoreline. She settled into a weather-beaten Muskoka chair (or Adirondack chair depending on where you were from) and began reading.

As the sun slowly lowered in the sky, Alison lit the fire to fight the chill settling in. She grabbed a blanket from inside the cottage and refilled her wine. It was getting too dark to read, and she still didn't feel like writing. She looked at her phone. Still no messages.

Stupid boys, she thought, though whether she meant Josh or Chris or both she wasn't sure.

As the sun dipped below the treeline, she marvelled at how beautifully dark the night sky was outside of the city. The moon wasn't going to rise for some hours yet. One by one, stars blinked into existence dotting the darkness with light. Alison wondered if she would see any late Perseid meteors streak across the sky; she was a couple weeks late she felt, but some errant stragglers would sometimes flash across the sky.

She lost track of time starting at the night sky. Her fire slowly buring itself out; the dim glow of crackling embers was all that was left. She debated momentarily adding some wood to the fire but thought better of it. She was tired after a long drive and several glasses of wine. Her writing would wait until tomorrow when she could tackle it fresh. She went inside and changed into her pajamas and got ready for bed.

She looked at her phone again.

"Oh damnit."

She turned airplane mode off. A moment later her phone buzzed with a flurry of messages: Josh saying he got home fine and had eaten and was going to bed, that he loved her and would talk to her tomorrow. Then some from Chris who clearly couldn't take a hint.

Are you sure you don't want me to come up? You might be cold all by yourself.

Are we still up for a drinking game? I won't start without you.

Ok I started without you but only because I know you have already started.

You know what fuck it I'm coming up.

Idiot,

Alison thought.

Don't you dare,

she shot back.

She was too tired to message Josh back - she knew he was asleep already and probably had been for a couple hours.

She waited a moment. No response from Chris.

Fuck, he's probably driving up here.

It was just after eleven and she knew Chris usually didn't go to bed until after midnight, no matter how much he'd been drinking. If he did drive and didn't kill himself, she was going to do it for him.

He can sleep in the bunkie,

she thought. She locked the door to the cabin. She put her phone back on airplane mode. If he didn't want to talk to her she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want him drunk-texting her at two am again.

But...If he asks nice I might let him come in. Maybe.

Alison turned off the lights, and crawled under her duvet and fell asleep.

Alison dreamed she was outside the cabin on the narrow strip of sand between the fire pit and the water. She looked across the lake to the island. Everything was dark; the pine trees were silhouetted against the black sky. Stars and unfamiliar constellations were overhead. As she watched them, some of them started moving. Slowly, then faster.

The dream!

Alison knew this dream. She had it every year she stayed at the cottage. The stars would start moving and she would realize that they weren't stars at all. They would move in formation, turn, break, and rearrange themselves as though they were putting on a personal show for her. There was no other sound safe for the water lapping the shore. She remembered asking Chris if he'd had any dreams that were tied to a specific place. Did he say anything? Her dreaming brain couldn't remember.

The lights in the sky stopped. Alison felt like they were watching her, waiting for her to do something. Staring through her.

She woke up.

Alison looked out her bedroom window. The moon was above the trees now. Her head swam a little from the wine. She looked at the stars. They all seemed normal. Nothing was moving, at any rate.

She put on a bathrobe and tied it around herself. She slid on her dad's old Crocs he left at the cottage year-round and went outside. The last embers of the fire were dying, a dim red light barely on the edge of sight.

She looked at the night sky, unsure what she expected to see.

Nothing. Stars winked overhead. The moon was bright.

She breathed a sigh of relief. What was she expecting?

Then - a flash of light streaked across the sky! It was gone almost before she registered what she saw.

One of the errant stragglers, she thought. She smiled to herself; maybe the universe just wanted her to see that?

She was about to go back inside, but something held her in place. She felt... like she did in the dream, that something or someone was watching her, waiting for her. Her eyes were almost used to the darkness now as she looked at the trees around the cottage. Maybe a fox or an owl?

A twig snapped in the darkness and she fought her fight or flight reflex. Still, she couldn't see anyone. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She turned to go back inside the cabin. Standing between her and the doorway was a familiar form.

"Chris? You fucking asshole! Don't sneak up on me like that! I told you not to come up here!"

"I didn't listen. I know I should have but I missed you was all. I'm sorry."

Asshole.

Alison let out a deep sigh of relief. He

did

say he was sorry.

"Fine. Come in. I missed you, too, you big dummy."

As Alison led Chris into the cabin, the stars overhead began to spin and move.

"You can stay in..." she hesitated. She didn't not want him to stay with her, but she was still mad at him. Still... Alison looked at Chris, who was looking around the main room of the cabin.

Goddamnit.

"Here, come on, my room is just over here. I'm going to bed."

"It's going to get cold tonight," Chris smiled, "We might have to snuggle close."

Alison sighed. Typical Chris.

She crawled into bed and felt Chris slide in next to her. She rolled so her back was to him, and hoped he'd get the hint.

Alison dozed. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep for, but she woke up with a start; a bright light was shining into her room from outside, cold and white, but she couldn't see where it was coming from; she felt like it was coming from everywhere all at once. She felt Chris roll over next to her, one hand on her shoulder, she felt him press his body against hers, his breath hot on her neck.

There was a noise in the main room.

"Shhhh," Chris murmured, his hand drifting down, going under her top. His hands were so warm as he traced up her stomach to her breast. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

There was another noise.

"What was that?" Alison started, but Chris shushed her again. Her mind swam. She fought a compulsion to stay in bed, to see what the noise was, but she couldn't move. The light that was shining in seemed to intensify, but she didn't even register it anymore, like she had a mental block. She could feel Chris' cock pressing against her ass through her pyjama pants, and she felt her pussy get wet in response. Fuck.

Something grabbed the waistband and pulled down. She felt her legs getting spread.

There was another sound now, almost like something slithering, but large. She closed her eyes. Chris kissed her neck and squeezed her breast, his cock pushed against her wet pussy, then slid inside.

Alison gasped; he felt even bigger than she remembered. His cock filled her as he thrust into her. Alison felt something else, now - a presence in the room. She tried to look but was blinded by the light. Something wrapped around her wrist, then her ankle. It slithered and wormed its way up her leg, warm, pulsating, slick.

"Chris, what-!" Part of her wanted to fight it, but her body didn't listen, surrendering completely. It wrapped around her leg, then gently teased her clit, caressing it gently, then almost... sucking on it. Alison's eyes went wide at the sensation; she opened her mouth to scream, but in that second, she felt something wrap around her throat, snake up her face, and force itself down her throat.