I think it’s the reds. I wonder if they’re aphrodisiacs. Garden of Eden. Apples. Snack. I don’t have time for this train of thought.
“Slag, you’re going to have to go slow. You get me? Slow.”
He nods his head and I have no idea if he understands a word I just said.
I have a better idea. We’re going to do this at my pace.
Straddling him, I place him at my entrance with the full intention of taking long minutes making sure I’m not only lubed and prepared, but can handle him.
Lubed? Check.
I press onto him, certainly not more than half an inch.
“Dear God. You’re so hot!” His flesh on mine is burning as his girth sits in the entrance to my hole.
He’s huffing now. He’s lodged his fingers in my hair. One look at his face tells me he’s trying with all his might to keep his ass on the mat and not thrust up into me. Odds are fifty-fifty he can follow through with those great intentions for even one minute more.
I slide a millimeter lower, surprised to find my body’s putting up no resistance.
“Nothing compares to this,” I babble as I throw my head back. The feeling’s just too good for me not to comment on it.
I slide lower, still encountering no problems. I look down in the dim light at our bodies as they merge. His impossibly huge green cock entering my channel is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I have no idea how it’s working, but it is.
On my next glide downward, I take a gamble and travel an entire inch. No barriers to entry.
Being intimately acquainted with his member, I know this is where things are going to get real. There’s a big bulge coming up. On a normal-sized male, this would be heaven. I have a feeling that on Slag it’s going to be hell—or impossible.
I pump a few times where I am, then test him, touching his bulge with my fingers. It’s lubed to the max from my cream.
“Here goes, big guy.” I stop in mid-motion, though, and look at him.
He’s got to be so horny he could burst, but he’s looking at me with this amazing sweet and sexy combo. His luminous green eyes are full of soft emotion and hard lust.
I lean forward and kiss those wide chartreuse lips at the same time I pulse downward, sliding right over the thickest part of his cock. There’s a stretch and burn that is as far opposite of pain as something can be.
I moan into Slag’s mouth as he moans into mine. And that signals the end of my dominance.
In a swift motion, I’m on my back and Slag’s knees are between my thighs. He makes two long, slow thrusts, his gaze never leaving my face. I’m certain he’s confirming that no Earth girls are going to be harmed in the making of this stellar sex act.
“Good,” I moan, making the word into three syllables. The echo elongates it even more.
Preliminaries are over. Slag pounds into me, his hips pistoning like a jackhammer. I must be in an altered state. I’m not paying attention to the stone I feel under the thin mat, the insects buzzing in the depths of the cave, the water rushing nearby, or the wind howling outside. My mind isn’t thinking of the prohibitions against what we’re doing or the incongruity of the fact that I’ve never felt so connected to a man before except this is not a man.
“Fuck me harder,” I demand, even though it’s not possible. But it is! He’s thrusting me off the mat and onto the stone floor itself, and I don’t fucking care. All I say is, “Harder!” and he pounds into me, the sounds of our flesh slapping together eliciting hoots and caws from the mystery animals residing in the cave’s depths.
He’s grunting like an animal. No, maybe that’s me. Finally, his rhythm changes and the fast, full thrusts slow down into those wonderful all-the-way-out-and-all-the-way-in-again pulses that make me go wild and indicate he’s about to come.
He pounds against me one last time, spilling his essence into me with a groan that would sound like he’s just been pierced through the heart, except the look on his face is pure fucking bliss.
That’s it. It’s that look that pushes me over the edge and I come like I’ve never come in my life. My inner muscles milk his cock for minutes. Can a person die during orgasm? Because this is too fucking good to tolerate.
I finally quit spasming and fall back onto the stone floor, not caring that there’s a hump of rock pressing between my shoulder blades. How could it irritate me when I’m in bliss?
Slag rolls me on top of him and kisses me everywhere his lips can reach. I wish I could read his mind. Does he think this was more than sex? Do I?
“Who gives a fuck?” I ask myself out loud. “That was amazing.”
I feel his essence drip out of me as I nestle my head under his chin and pass out.
Slag
Love.
Chapter Four
KJ
I etch a line into the wall every morning. I just marked number twenty-one. That sums up a lot of what the last three weeks signify—marking time.
At first, when I helped Slag climb out of that hole, I felt like a character at the end of a happy Disney movie. I’d discovered water, we had shelter, and I assumed we’d find something edible in the bioluminescent cave. I had my new friend and optimism that
