Thursday, 26 April 2012

Sex-traterrestrial - Chapter Two!

Content Warning: Contain explicit scenes. For readers over the age of eighteen only. You have been warned!

Chapter Two
Clutching the clothes to her body, Jessie went back to the kitchen, expecting him to be gone.
She walked in to find him standing at her laptop.
“Hey, that’s private,” she said, but he didn’t look up. His eyes scanned the screen as he scrolled through page after page, his finger held on the down key. Intense concentration imprinted his face, his brow furrowed.
Was he reading?
No, he couldn’t be. Not at such speed.
She took three strides towards him and slammed down the lid of the laptop. “I said, that’s private!”
He showed no sign of alarm, but simply raised his face to hers.           
“Is this your… words?” He seemed to struggle to speak, as if he was working out how to get his mouth around the sounds.
“What do you mean? Is that my writing?”
“This is your language?”          
She frowned, alarm racing through her. Oh God, he is a nutter. What the hell had she been thinking? Swept in by a pretty face. Then she chastised herself. He probably had a learning difficulty of some kind. Just because the guy was seriously hot, didn’t mean he was all there. Yet something about his eyes made her not believe her own excuses. When he looked at her, she saw an intelligence she’d never experienced before. How could such intelligence be combined with such total innocence and trust?
“Are you foreign?” she asked. “Do you come from another country?”
He smiled and something inside her melted. The smile touched those eyes, the edges creasing. “Something like that.”
As he spoke, the words seem to come more easily.
“Here,” she said, handing him the clothes. “What’s your name? You do have a name, don’t you?”
He spoke slowly, enunciating the syllables, “Tay—oh.”
“Tao, your name is Tao?”
He nodded.
“I’m Jessie,” she said. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
He smiled at her, holding her gaze, and she blushed and glanced away. Suddenly flustered, Jessie turned her attention back to the clothes he still hadn’t taken.
“Here,” she said, pressing them into the hand not clutching the towel.
Tao dropped the towel and Jessie glanced away again, suppressing a grin. Dear Lord, this guy had an amazing body. Fine dark hair covered his strong thighs, his bottom a perfect, pert curve. Her palms itched, wanting to run them over that peachy ass. She wanted to trace her hands over his perfectly smooth chest, her fingers tweaking the nipples that nestled there like two dark buds. Her eyes ran over the ridges of his abs and then dropped lower, taking in the line of dark hair running up from his groin, meeting his tight navel.
She shook her head slightly, trying to get the thoughts out of her head. She must have lost her God-damned mind.
Tao lifted the shirt to his chest, as if trying to cover himself in the same way he had with the towel. He made no move to put his arms through the holes or work the buttons.
Jessie gave a half-smile. “Don’t you know how to put them on?”
She lifted her hand to help him, her fingertips brushing the smooth skin of his chest, feeling the hard muscle just beneath the surface. Her breath caught, her heart hammering, and they locked eyes.
His clear, blue eyes burned into hers. Had anyone looked at her in such a way before; as if they were staring right into her soul?
He reached up and his fingers wrapped around her wrist, stilling her touch.
“Tao…” But she didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence.
He lowered his head, his warm, firm lips finding hers. She opened her mouth to him, their tongues meeting. He tasted like summer—coconut oil and honeysuckle. His tongue flicked at hers, teasing at first, but when she responded to him, kissing him with a hunger and urgency, he reacted in return. Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, molding herself to his body.
Her vest rucked up her waist, exposing her tanned stomach. The shirt was still pressed between them, the only thing separating their skin. He grew hard against her, the thick ridge pressing against the line of her abs.
Why didn’t I think to put any clothes on in the bedroom?
Tao dropped the shirt, his hands sliding around her back and down to her ass. Her simple cotton panties barely covered the round curve of her buttocks and his palms cupped each cheek, pressing her toward him. His hands were soft against her skin, no rough calluses chafing her.
Jessie moaned into his mouth, losing herself in the kiss. It had been a long time since someone had kissed her like this, a long time since someone had touched her like this.
Sudden panic clutched her heart. What the hell am I thinking!
Jessie pressed her palms against his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing him away.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I mean… I just found you in my yard!”
“You are beautiful,” he said, his words stilted.
“Stop it. I can’t do this. I need to call someone. The police perhaps.”
He shook his head. “No. Please. I need you to help me.”
“How? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Help me remember.”
“Shit!” she swore, turning away from him. She couldn’t look at him, standing there, naked and vulnerable imploring for her help. This man should mean nothing to her—he was just some guy who’d suddenly appeared. She should be on the phone right now, calling someone to report him, but she couldn’t stand the thought of someone arriving to remove him from her life.
His beauty overwhelmed her; had she ever seen a man so perfect? Though every instinct screamed at her to stop acting crazy, she was drawn to him. Nothing about him screamed ‘crazy person’ or ‘drunk’ or ‘drug addict’. Instead he simply seemed lost and confused and…
Yep, her eyes flicked down to his crotch. He was definitely still aroused.
He lifted a hand toward her, “Jessie.”
No longer thinking, she stepped toward him and he gathered her in his arms. The strong curve of his biceps wrapped around her and he dipped his head, catching her mouth in another kiss. Jessie softened against him and her pussy clenched in anticipation. She found herself on tip-toes, longing to press herself against the hard line of his cock. Tao obliged, lifting her slightly so they fitted together, his hardness finding the swollen nub of her clit. Sparks raced through her, making her head spin.
Jessie wrapped her arms back around his neck, melting into him. Her hands skirted the naked breadth of his back. His skin felt impossibly smooth, as soft as a child’s, contrasting with the power of the well-defined muscle beneath.
However much he had struggled to clothe himself, ridding Jessie of her vest didn’t seem to cause him such a problem. In a swift move, he broke the kiss long enough to pull the top over her head, lifting her hair with it, before allowing her hair to drift back around her naked shoulders. He dropped the vest to the floor, exposing her naked breasts.
Her small, but perky tits throbbed, aching to be touched. This time Tao didn’t seem to know what she wanted.
He turned her around, pressing her over the kitchen island.
“Oh,” she gasped, her breasts pressing into the cool granite counter. Her nipples hardened into buds, sensitized still further by the cold surface.
His hands were at her waist, his palms skirting down over hips, across her ass. He cupped each cheek in his hands, as if weighing them up. Jessie moaned, her pussy slick with cream, dampening her panties.
This was madness, but for once Jessie wasn’t thinking. She wanted to feel him everywhere, give over every last part of her; his mouth, his cock, his body pressed hard against her. Deep, hard fucking that would release a pain buried so deep. Something she’d not gone near since her husband had died.
Slowly, he rolled her panties down, over the round, firm curve of her bottom, her toned, slender thighs, dropping them to the floor. She stepped out from their pooled circle.
He splayed her legs and parted her buttocks, exposing the pink star of her ass, her wet folds. It was as if he was studying her, taking in every last inch of her.
What the hell am I doing?
He dropped to his knees and his mouth was on her, his hot tongue pressed into the tight pucker of her ass. “Oh God,” she groaned as the stimulation caused her most internal muscles to pulsate.
Jessie’s thighs trembled beneath her.
With firm, strong strokes of his tongue, he penetrated her, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. He slipped his tongue in and out, sending crazy sparks of arousal, tightening deep in her pussy.
Jessie’s hands gripped the edges of the counter, her knuckles white. Pleasure soared through her body and she moaned, her head lowered as he lavished attention on her.
Using both hands, he spread her cheeks further apart increasing the intensity, her sensitivity. She pushed her ass out toward him, wanting more. Every part of her mind screamed at her that she shouldn’t be doing this, but her body wanted him with every inch. Too much time had passed since she’d been touched like this—if she’d ever been touched like this—and she didn’t want it to stop.
But he lifted his mouth from her ass and she had to stop herself wilting in disappointment. Then his chest pressed against the line of her back and his cock pushed between the folds of her sopping pussy.
Jessie pushed back and the perfect bell of his dick pushed just an inch inside her, enough to stretch her muscles and feel the ridges of him as her muscles tightened, trying to pull his cock inside her.
He kissed the back of her neck, and oh, so slowly, sank his length balls-deep. They stilled like that for a moment, relishing in the feel of togetherness, in being totally held by another person. Just as slowly, Tao pulled out again, almost slipping from her body, before driving back in. The beautiful length of his cock nudged her cervix, shooting a mixture of pain and pleasure through her body.
He placed his hands back on her ass, using his grip on her buttocks to drive himself, deeper, faster. His thumb grazed her asshole and the sensation caused every muscle to clench, gripping down hard on Tao’s dick. Getting the message, he slicked her with her own moisture and his saliva, and pushed his thumb into the tight channel of her ass.
Jessie cried out with pleasure as he built his momentum, his thumb held deep in her ass, his cock slamming in and out of her swollen pussy. Her tits bounced as he banged her, her hard nipples grazing the cold granite of her counter.
She reached her peak and then he titled her over the edge by placing a kiss right behind her ear, in the most sensitive spot.
Her orgasm powered through her, rippling her most intimate muscles, clamping down on Tao’s cock and milking him. He clung to her as his own orgasm clutched him and he jerked in hard, forceful movements as he filled her.
Spent, he nuzzled her neck and Jessie slumped against him, exhausted. Though they remained stood, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her body firm against his while he grew soft inside her. Jessie’s thighs shook—feeling weak and tremulous—and she allowed him to hold her upright. Gradually, her heart rate returned to normal and she caught her breath. Tao’s cock slipped from her body, his seed and her juices spilling down the insides of her thighs.
She knew she should be questioning her own sanity right now, allowing herself to be fucked across the kitchen counter by a man she’d just found naked in her yard. But standing in the ring of his arms, his skin warm against hers, his heartbeat thumping against her back, she’d never felt so at ease.

Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Friday, 13 April 2012

'Sex-traterrestrial': Chapter One!

Chapter One

Lightning ripped, ragged through the night sky.
For the briefest of moments, the countryside lit up before her. The strange, flattened shapes in the corn seemed darker and more eerie than they had under the scorching Oklahoma sun.
Standing at her bedroom window, Jessie McLeod couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene before her. Electrical storms were common around these parts, but she’d never seen anything like this. The day had been clear and bright, and, even now, no storm clouds hung fat and low in the sky. Yet still, the lightning continued, jagged forks splitting the sky right down to the horizon, combined with continuous, strobe-like flashes which left her blinking against their strength.
At her feet, her dog, Buddy, whimpered, his body pressed up against her legs.
“Hush, boy,” she said, reaching down to stroke his scraggly fur. “It’s only lightning.”
Jessie wished she had someone she could turn to; someone she could exclaim, ‘Wow, have you ever seen anything like this before?’ and actually get an answer.
Unconsciously, her eyes flicked to the photograph on the bedside table, the blond, shaggy-haired man with the blue eyes, his arm wrapped around a brunette, both with relaxed, happy smiles on their faces. Jessie tore her gaze away from her own image, pain stabbing through her afresh. Two years had passed now, yet still the pain hit her, unexpectedly, winding her, leaving her gasping for breath.
I’ll leave, Jessie told herself for the thousandth time. She would go to a city—a town at least—and find herself a nice little house with neighbors who were less than three miles from her.
The thought of being in a city, surrounded by people, sent pain spiking through her soles as her body flooded with adrenaline. For a moment, she swayed, unsteady on her feet, before she got hold of herself.
She told herself she stayed in the big farmhouse because the isolation was good for her writing, but the truth was she’d not written anything new since Jeremy passed. Only the backlog of manuscripts on her laptop kept her nosy editor and agent from her door. As far as they were concerned, as long as she still produced a new manuscript for them every six months, then all was well. How were they to know the books she’d been delivering were all several years old?
Jessie sighed and turned her attention back to the storm.
She realized something and frowned. No thunder. Had she ever seen such lightning without the roll and crash of thunder following? Was such a thing even possible? It must be, she decided. After all, that was exactly what she was seeing.
Fields of crops stretched out before her, maize, wheat, barley. She didn’t farm the fields herself, but rented them out to a local farmer who made better use of them then she ever would. He’d been pissed lately because kids had been mucking around, creating flattened shapes in the crops. He’d told her to watch out for them, but she’d no idea what she was supposed to do should she see someone. She’d seen no signs of anybody and doubted she’d do anything if she did. Life weighed her down lately and sometimes it was all she could do to get her ass out of bed and into the shower.
The shapes contained a certain symmetrical beauty; a semi-circle with increasingly smaller circles dotted around its perimeter. Another like a labyrinth, with a circle containing an intricate pattern in the centre. Jessie understood the farmer’s dismay—each sheath of corn, so precisely flattened, had been ruined—yet for Jessie the shapes created a point of focus when she looked out across the seemingly never-ending expanse of dusty yellow crops. Despite the obvious vandalism, their curves and precision were striking.
The night drew on. Though she had nothing to get up for in the morning, she was constantly tired. Sleep came easily, but left just as quickly. Often, she found herself wandering the house at four a.m. knowing she would never get back to sleep again, simply waiting for the morning to come. Even so, she kept to her routine—in bed before midnight—and the witching hour was fast approaching.
Her small lamp cast a soft glow across the room. She shed her clothes as she headed toward the bed, popping the button of her jeans and pulling the pants down her long, slender thighs. Wearing only her panties and vest, she slid beneath the cool sheets. Jessie reached out a hand and flicked the switch on her lamp.
Instead of plunging the room into darkness, the lack of light only served to increase the drama of the lightshow happening outside. Her thin, cream drapes did little to block out the lightning
I’ll never get to sleep with this going on, she thought. But even as the words crossed her mind, she sank into the arms of sleep.
Jessie blinked awake, pale morning sunlight filtering into the bedroom. Her eyes flicked to the small bedside alarm clock, which she never needed to use. Five-fifteen. Another forty-five minutes and she could tell herself it was morning.
She rolled over, her hand straying to the empty space where her husband used to lie. So much time had passed, yet she’d still kept to her side of the bed, curled up on her side like a fiddlehead. The other white pillow lay smooth and flat, no imprint of a head denting its centre.
Closing her eyes again, she willed sleep to return. Sometimes her dreams were of happier times, when Jeremy had been alive and they were simply excited about their future and were busy planning their lives together. Thirty-three had been too young for him to die. Twenty-nine was too young to become a widow. Sleep, when it came, offered her an escape from the empty expanse of her days, but it eluded her.
With a sigh, Jessie opened her eyes and pushed herself to sitting. Though still exhausted, she knew she was up for the day. What she needed now was coffee and lots of it.
The hour was still young, but already there was heat to the new day. Jessie’s thin cotton vest clung to her curves, her perky breasts and flat stomach unintentionally highlighted in the skimpy outfit. She’d grown slim over the passing years.
Jessie headed into the kitchen. Buddy sat at the kitchen door, his back to her and ears pricked, and didn’t even acknowledge her entering the room.
She frowned. Normally Buddy was all over her, as though he’d not seen her for a month instead of just a few hours.
“All right, Buddy,” she said, addressing the dog. “I’ll let you out in a minute. Mommy needs caffeine.”
Jessie piled coffee granules into the espresso machine, followed by fresh water. The machine boiled and hissed as it brewed her much needed caffeine injection.
Taking her coffee, she went to the backdoor and opened it, letting the dog out. But Buddy didn’t move—only sat, frozen in the doorway.
“Go on, Dummy,” she said, nudging him with her foot. “What are you waiting…” Her words tailed off and her breath caught in her chest.
Someone was in her yard.
With a pounding heart, she stepped out of the doorway. A man lay curled up beside her pool, naked, his skin glistening in the early morning dew. Curled up upon himself, his knees tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around her legs. She took in the firm muscles of his ass, the strong length of his thighs. His skin was pale, his arms and legs covered in a fine down of dark hair. Though she couldn’t see his face, his hair was so dark it was almost black, and stuck wildly from his head.
Goosebumps prickled her skin, yet his naked flesh stirred something deep inside her, something she’d thought had long since died.
Don’t get distracted, girl, she admonished herself. The guy is either a lunatic or a drunk.
She pulled open the nearest drawer and rummaged around, her fingers searching for a weapon, her eyes never leaving the naked stranger on her property.
Her hand closed around a long barbeque fork that hadn’t been used since Jeremy died. She pulled the fork out, its two sharp prongs glinting in the early sunlight.
Tightening her grip around the wooden handle, she gritted her teeth and braced her shoulders. Jessie burst from her back door, onto the porch.
“This is private property,” she yelled. “Get the hell out of my yard or I’m calling the cops.”
At the sound of her voice, the body on the patio stirred. Jessie’s heart lurched, blood rushing through her ears. What would she do if he rushed her? Would she really have the guts to stab him?
Like a fern, the man unfurled, his head rising to look at her with sleepy, blinking eyes. She took in his full mouth, straight nose and strong jaw, but his catalogue model good-looks weren’t the thing that focused her. Instead, it was his eyes that caught her attention. Something about those eyes made her falter. Their blue depth held no menace; she felt more as if she were watching a child wake.
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?” she shouted again, brandishing the fork. She wondered why she was even asking—shouldn’t she be on the phone already?
At the sound of her shouts, the man didn’t flinch. The corners of his full lips twitched and he tilted his head to one side, as if taking her in.
She noticed he shivered. Despite the early warmth of the day, the man was cold.
Suddenly, Jessie realized she stood, wearing only panties and a thin vest, her nipples poking through the material. Self-consciously, she folded one arm across her breasts.
In front of her, the man continued to unfurl. Right before her eyes, he stood, naked. His cock nestled against his balls, framed by a thick thatch of dark curls.
“Jesus!” she exclaimed, shocked, embarrassed, trying desperately not to look. “Cover yourself up.
Towels hung from the washing line stretched across her yard and she grabbed one, throwing it at him. He watched as the towel hit his legs, making no move to try to catch or pick it up.
Jessie twisted her head away, trying to suppress the smile threatening to spread across her face.
“Pick up the towel, damn it,” she said, pointing to the rectangle of twisted cotton. She almost laughed, “You can’t just wander around without any clothes on.”
Sneaking glances, she saw him finally glance down at the pile of cotton at his feet. He looked back up at her and seemed to realize what she wanted. Bending down, he picked up the towel and held it over his perfectly proportioned groin.
“Thank God for that,” she said, allowing her gaze to fall back on him. Still, his body was beautiful; curved pecks with dusky nipples, a line down the center of his stomach, running between several rows of abs. His shoulders were broad and strong, his biceps cut without being overly muscular. If she had of asked someone to create a perfect male specimen, this would be it.
Jessie gave her head a slight shake.
She really shouldn’t be thinking like this about some strange man who had shown up, naked, in her back yard.
He lifted his gaze, his blue eyes settling upon hers. He still shivered, his body trembling.
She stepped closer, expecting a wave of alcohol fumes to wash over her. But none came; he smelled like cut grass and vanilla. Whatever he was, he wasn’t a drunk.
Drugs, maybe, she thought. But this was hardly drug country. The biggest city was miles from here. Again she was brought back to his eyes; he didn’t have the expression of someone who was spaced out.
Before she knew what she was doing she said, “You look cold. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll find you something to wear.”
He took unsteady steps toward her. It didn’t matter that he had turned up in her yard in the middle of the night. He didn’t look as if he could harm anything. Despite the appearance of his perfectly toned, strong physique, he also seemed weak and fragile, like a newborn deer learning to walk.
Jessie backed away, stepping back through her back door and into the kitchen. The strange man followed. Buddy yapped at him a couple of times, while backing out of the kitchen door and disappeared. She heard the scrabble of his claws on the wooden floor as he scurried upstairs.
“I think I should get you some clothes. You don’t have any nearby, by any chance, do you?”
He raised his eyebrows at her, a hint of a smile adorning his handsome face, but didn’t seem to understand anything she said.
“Okay, just wait here.” She put her hands out in front of her, steadying him like a horse.
Jessie turned and rushed out of the room. Would he be there when she got back? Maybe he’d clear out her purse and leave.
She went to her bedroom and opened the closet. All of Jeremy’s shirts still hung from their hangers, his pants still neatly folded in the drawers, his socks still balled together. No one knew she still had all his old things. When her parents—who lived miles away and didn’t really give a shit about her anyway—asked, she told them she’d donated everything to charity. They’d never know the difference. They’d made it down here for the funeral, but in their minds they’d done their part.
She pulled down a short-sleeved, blue and white shirt and a pair of jeans. They might be a little snug on this guy—Jeremy had been smaller by about two inches and thirty pounds—but considering his body, she didn’t think she’d mind them being a bit tight. She smiled at this and then reprimanded herself. She shouldn’t be thinking such things, especially not when he was about to be dressed in her dead husband’s clothes....
Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.