Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
She turns on the water at the sink and uses a towel to dab at her skin, cleaning off my leavings, and I want to stand there and watch as she does. Kef me, has any female ever had such a magnificent chest? Her teats are splendid, the hang of them heavy with weight and showing an ample cleft. I imagine one in my hand, spilling over my large fingers with the size of it, and decide that I’m going to jerk off to that image tonight. Her backside and thighs look to be as ample as the rest of her, and I love that she’s big. It means she enjoys life and food as much as she enjoys everything else.
I love food myself, and I think of my soft gut. I work hard and try as I might, there’s a layer of fat over my stomach no matter what I do. It’s because I eat too much, I suspect. Jrrru is lean, but not me. Maybe I don’t meet her approval? The thought is a devastating one. She could have any male she wanted, and here I am spraying my seed like I’m doing her a favor.
“You okay? You’re frowning.”
“This was perhaps not the best way to introduce myself.”
Her smile grows broader. “But we already met. If you think about it, it’s more of a second date.”
I grunt at that, glancing around. I am inside her house now, and I smell no other males—or any other people at all for that matter—in the area. This pleases me, but it also makes me vaguely sad for her. Does she live a lonely existence? Someone as vibrant as her should have all the attention she craves, be it male or female.
She offers me a towel and I wipe my hands clean, wondering if I should shove the cloth down my trou and clean my cock. Probably wouldn’t endear me to her. “You should not have invited a strange male inside your home.”
“Well, you’re the strange male that came inside a strange female’s house, so what does that make you?” Chelsea puts her hands on her hips, gazing defiantly up at me.
“Lucky.”
That makes a smile blossom across her face once more. “Aren’t you sweet.”
I can’t let this go, though. “I might be sweet, but another would not be. You must be more cautious.”
“Because you could have killed me?”
“Precisely.”
She waves a hand, dismissing that. “You want breakfast? Or were you going to invite me out to the stream? I was going to head out there looking for you, but you’ve saved me a trip.” She pauses. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”
I stare at her, puzzled at how quickly she has accepted all of this. Maybe something is wrong with her that she has no sense of self-preservation. Shouldn’t she be slightly nervous that a strange male was on her property? “I…you want to date? Just like that?”
Chelsea smiles at me. “Well, I like talking to you. And now I’ve seen what you’re working with, and I can’t say I’m disappointed in that. So I don’t see why not?”
“But…” I cast about, looking for the right way to phrase my concerns. “It was not my intention for you to find me this morning. I was simply marking my interest in you.”
“Oh? Huh.”
“Have I…intimidated you in some way?” Perhaps this is a fear response. We were taught in our lectures that many humans will seek to please even if they are terrified. “Made you afraid?”
“Me? Oh, no.” She laughs, and then pauses, tilting her head. “Did you want me to be afraid?”
“No! Not at all.” I run my hand over my mouth. “I admit I am just confused at your response. I expected fear when you saw me.”
Chelsea gets a look of understanding on her face. “Aaaah. Makes sense now. Because you’re a big scary alien and I’m a small helpless human, right?”
I’m not certain I like that she puts it like that. “Well, yes…”
“No worries. I’m past a fear response.” She moves to her refrigeration unit. “You want a drink? Something to eat?”
I stare after her. “You…are past a fear response? I don’t know what that means.”
She looks at me over her shoulder, all smiles. “I don’t live with fear anymore. It does me no good. If I die, I die.” Chelsea points at her refrigeration unit. “Do you like iced tea?”
I keep staring.
When I don’t answer, she turns to look at me again. The shock must be evident on my face, because she pulls out a pitcher and casts me a sympathetic look. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’ve lost my mind, right? But I assure you, I’m fine. When I was a slave, it was a really bad situation. As in, a never-ending bad situation. I kept wanting it to be over with and it went on and on and on for so long that I thought I’d lose my mind. Then one day I came to a revelation—I’ve seen everything the universe can throw at me, so there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. Death holds no fear for me because death is fast. It’s slavery that’s the slowest death of all. I can handle anything else.”