Barbarian Alien(34)

Poor guy. Never to have a loving touch? A caress? Fooling around just for fun? He’s missed out on so much. I feel like a bit of a dick suddenly for constantly pushing him away. I’m probably the culmination of a bajillion dreams for him and for me to turn him away has to hurt.

I’m starting to get an idea of how lonely his life has been…and what I must mean to him.

Suddenly, I want to make this good for him. It’s no longer about distracting Raahosh so he’ll stop teasing me. It’s about making some heavy petting fun for him, too, so he can see that he’s sexy and desirable and someone wants him after all.

“Do you trust me?” I ask him, placing my hand flat on his chest, over his heart. It’s a safe spot, for all that it’s rough and ridged there like the skin over his brows.

He hesitates for a moment and then nods, his jaw clenched.

“Then lay back,” I say in a soft voice. “And let your mate pleasure you a little. It’s all part of the human rituals of mating.”

For a long moment, he tenses, and I think he’s going to refuse me. Then, he turns and flings himself onto his back in the furs, his cock jutting into the air. He props up on his elbows so he can watch me, his eyes glimmering slits of intensity.

I’ll need to go slow to make this last a bit. I rack my brain, trying to think of ways to extend an orgasm for a guy that’s inexperienced. I’ll just have to play it by ear. He’ll get embarrassed if he blows his wad too quickly and blame himself, and I don’t want that to happen.

So I put my hands on his thighs and wait. “Is this okay?”

He watches me with a hot gaze and after a long, tense moment, nods.

“Can I explore you?”

His cock twitches, and more pre-cum beads on the head. As I watch, he grits his teeth and nods again.

Maybe I’d better take the edge off first. So I slide forward, pushing my arms against my sides so my breasts (while not impressive) push together. “I’m going to make you come,” I tell him, dragging my nails down one thigh lightly. “And then I’m going to take my time with you. All right?”

“Do what you must.” There’s tension in his words. Poor thing. He’s probably about to blow and feeling a bit awkward about it. My cootie continues purring like a mad thing, and his rumbles even louder when I lean forward.

I grip his length in my hand, and my fingers don’t quite meet. That’s…interesting. He’s also hard and ridged along the top, and my thighs clench together again at the realization. He’s not circumcised, and I grip him by his foreskin and then drag it over his cock as I pump him once.

He gasps, and then hot semen spatters over my hand, erupting from the big head of his cock. His body jerks, and I place my hand flat on his thigh again. “It’s okay,” I tell him, and then when he’s gazing down at me, I lean in and lick the head of his cock clean of semen.

I’ve never been a big fan of the taste of cum – there’s a bleachy sort of taste to it that I just can’t get used to – but with the cootie adjusting my senses, there’s no hard flavor to him, only a mild sort of musky taste that is actually…quite nice. It’s a pleasure to lap at him and clean his cock, and his muffled groans and hisses of breath are making me feel pretty good, too.

When I’m done tonguing him clean, I look up and give his cock head another swipe with the tip of my tongue. “Can I play with you now?”

His nostrils flare and he inhales sharply, then nods.

“If you come again,” I warn him, “It’s all right. But I’ll try and be gentle with you.” I give him a wink as the look on his face turns incredulous.

Then I drag my fingers up and down his thighs, exploring the ways he’s different than me. I’m your average girl – average height, average weight, average boobs. Raahosh, in comparison, is over seven feet of slate-gray muscle. There are the ridged plates on the sides of his big thighs, a line of ridges that goes all the way down his chest to where a happy trail would be if he had hair on his groin, and ridges on his arms and shoulders. I suspect if I ran my hand down the small of his back his spine would be ridged, too.

Of course, I have more interesting things to look at, like his junk. My hands slide back down to his cock. It’s impossible to resist it, because the darn thing is just gorgeous. Long thick, with a heavy, deep-blue crown, he feels more velvety here than anywhere else. His balls are an impressive size, his sac tight against his groin.

Blue balls. I giggle. Never has the phrase been more true.

He frowns and bats my exploring hands away.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” I explain, biting my lip. “Just at a saying we have among humans about blue balls.”