Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I have you,” he whispers, caressing my jaw. “Not much longer, my sweet Tia. I had no idea you would…I did not realize…it was my first time.” He drops his gaze, looking embarrassed. “I had hoped to last longer.”
I give his leg an awkward little pat, afraid to hum or else he’ll grow even bigger in my mouth. Is it possible to choke to death on dick, I wonder? The urge to hysterically laugh rises, and it takes everything I have not to break down into a fit of giggles that will surely, surely, kill me.
After what feels like an eternity, Rem’eb gives a full-body quiver, and then his dick slips free from my now-aching jaw. He groans, pulling back, and I catch a glimpse of what does indeed look like an inverted umbrella—or a plunger—that remains a bit loose, wet with my saliva.
What the fuck. When he’d said “frill” I’d thought it was just a fancy word for the sensitive ridge around the head of his dick. I had no idea it’d mean that. I’m a little stunned at just how very alien his anatomy is.
Stunned, and more than a little intrigued.
I glance up at him and gesture at his half-flaccid dick. “Can I touch it?”
He gives me a wordless nod, tension on his face. It’s clear he didn’t realize I hadn’t experienced a dick like his before. He just thought I was a straight-up freak. The urge to giggle hits me again, but I manage to choke it back.
Been choking on a lot today, the voice in my head says, and only a cough saves me from giving a hysterical snort of amusement. He did warn me.
With careful fingers, I touch the now-unfurled “frill” and explore it. It’s like his foreskin elongated to create a plunger-type seal, and is even now slowly retracting. I run my tongue over the roof of my mouth, thinking about how it had practically cracked my damn jaw as he unloaded in my throat. Rem’eb reacts to my exploring, little shivers moving over him as I learn him. To his credit, he doesn’t try to use my hand to jerk himself off again, just lets me explore to my contentment. I brush a finger over the head of his dick and it distends again, as if trying to push forward and ejaculate once more.
Jesus, and here I’d been disappointed he didn’t have “extras” in his equipment like the other aliens back on the beach. That’s what I get for assuming. I lower my hand and glance up at him, hating the worried expression on his face.
I gesture at his dick. “Men don’t have dicks like that where I come from.”
“Have you ever seen a cock before?” he asks, guessing at my words.
I somehow manage to keep a straight face. “Once or twice. Not like this.” I touch his frill, where it’s receding back into place. “This is very new.”
“I am different than your males,” he guesses, and his expression remains tense. “This is bad? Is this why we have not resonated fully?”
I don’t want him feeling bad about himself. I shake my head and move over his body again, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “None of it’s bad. I just assumed, and you know what they say about assuming.”
“I wish I could understand you, Tia.”
I kiss his cheek again and smile, touching my chin in “thank you.” It’s becoming our universal sign for “You’re all right.”
The moment I do that, he smiles.
Chapter
Eighteen
TIA
Iwake up to a gentle, incessant touch. It’s Rem’eb. “Tia, awaken. We are being followed.”
I jolt awake at that, brushing off dreams of umbrellas, and sit upright. “Followed?”
He glances back at the tunnels behind us and then rolls up the bed the moment I’m off of it. “I knew we would be pursued, but I did not think it would be this quickly. We must hurry.”
Once our small encampment is packed, he shrugs the large pack onto his back. Then he thinks for a moment and pulls it back off again.
“Everything okay?” I ask, wriggling my toes. The soles of my feet hurt from traveling with no shoes, but there’s nothing to do about it. “Is your bag too heavy?”
Rem’eb pulls something out of his pack. “If they catch up with us, I want you to move ahead.” He holds a belt out to me. “Put this on.”
I do, and even before it’s around my waist, he’s attaching pouches of the mushroom sleep powder to it. I get three of them, and then he hands me what looks like a narrow, long fabric tube with a few strange sticks poking out of it and an absolute tangle of strings. “Arrows?”
He loops the strap over my head, settling the tube against my back. “It is the loom you requested. I wanted to make sure you had one, no matter what happens.”