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)
I’m dumbfounded by my brother’s suggestion. “You think Chelsea’s using me for sex?”
“Makes sense, don’t you think?”
I have no idea if it does or not. I play through my interactions with Chelsea. Of our meeting at the stream, and then me at her doorstep. She’d stared at my cock with interest and hadn’t run away when I, well, made a fool of myself. Jrrru has had more experience with females than I have. He’s the handsome brother, the one with the good body and the easy smile. I’m the thick, slow one with the big nose. I rub my big nose, thinking.
Does Chelsea just want a good time for a little while and nothing more? I’ve never had a relationship that has just been about sex and nothing else. Kef, I’ve never had a relationship with a human ever. My last relationship was with another praxiian female back at Haal Ui but when her company left for a distant mining job, we mutually ended things. Neither of us had been particularly committed. It was just casual.
Perhaps I am overthinking this. Perhaps a human female wants just something fun and carefree, too. “You’re right,” I tell my brother. “Your idea makes more sense than mine.”
“I suggest you go along with whatever she wants,” Jrrru says. “Get your back scratched up and enjoy yourself. Don’t think too hard about it.”
The comm chimes. “And tell the custodians that you’re seeing a human,” our boss chips in. “That’s how Bruddox got kicked off planet, remember? He was lurking around a female’s home and she didn’t like it. Next thing you know, he’s back at Haal Ui and in the unemployment line.”
Bruddox was sniffing around where he wasn’t wanted, though. I’m pretty sure Chelsea wants me around…but her neighbors might not understand if a praxiian shows up. “You’re right. I’ll stop by the custodial office and let them know I have an invitation.”
And maybe I’ll stop by the general store and see if they have plas-film. Just in case. If Chelsea just wants dinner and conversation, I’m happy to oblige. I don’t want to go into this with expectations.
At the same time, if she wants bed company, I want to be ready.
Five
CHELSEA
I touch the crust on the meat pie I have in the oven, testing for flakiness. It’s soft, and I make a face at the pastry and shut the door to the oven again, pulling my mitts off and pacing back over to the bathroom again.
After I got a call from the Port Custodians—very sweet boys, all of them—wanting to confirm if I was dating a praxiian, I was informed that Hrrrusek would be by my house after sundown. The sun is flirting with the horizon as we speak, and I’m anxious for my date to arrive.
No, not anxious. Excited.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had dinner with someone. Longer still since I’ve had enjoyable sex. If things go well tonight, I’m hoping for both. I think of Hrrrusek’s big body and his charming orange-and-cream stripes and wonder what it’d feel like under my hands. I definitely need to get laid. More than that, though, I’m just looking forward to conversation.
My farm is lovely, and my neighbors are sweet women, but they’re not the most social people. They’re perfectly content to be left alone and have made it very clear that they’re not looking for friends, and so I’ve basically learned to do my own thing, too. When something breaks down, I don’t go asking for help. I tinker with it until I fix it or decide I can do without it. I don’t celebrate the wins—even the small ones—with anyone, and maybe my neighbors’ loneliness has rubbed off on me, because I haven’t been going into Port much as of late.
Didn’t realize how much I needed the company until the big sexy cat-man showed up in my stream. Poor man doesn’t know that he’s going to get jumped tonight. I guess I don’t need to worry if he likes humans or not. The fact that I caught him on my doorstep in the act tells me everything, and the thought makes me grin to myself.
I’ve heard there’s a flower that acts as an aphrodisiac for praxiians, too, and that they grow wonderfully here on Risda—
My perimeter security sends out an alert, letting me know that my date has arrived. Distracted, I fluff my hair, fluff my tits, and then run to the bathroom mirror one more time to check how I look. I’m wearing the Risda version of cosmetics—just enough berry juice to add a bit of color to my lips and cheeks, and a bit of soot to darken my lashes. My hair looks great, long and carefree, and my tits look fantastic in the tunic I’m wearing. It’s gathered under my impressive girls (if I do say so myself) and I’ve added a decorative wooden clip right in the center to make sure that the neck forms a deep vee and gives him a look at my acres and acres of cleavage. I might not have a tiny waist or a beautiful face, but damn it, I’ve got a magnificent rack.