I want it. All of it. In my mouth, down my throat, inch by inch, until I feel the air rush out of me for good. I want to feel that inescapable hold of immoral excitement, the feeling that can only come from a night of absolute excess.
Timid, I reach up, but my muscles feel so weak. Shaking with heat, I place both hands around his cock. His skin is warm and tight, foreskin barely cloaking the already glistening, throbbing crown.
I kiss his cock, lips dragging across the veiny mass of flesh. It's slightly wet from pre-cum, giving my tongue a more careful exploratory role than would be usual for that area.
I don't rush this.
I trace around the base with the tip of my tongue, forcing a high-pitched moan out as another bead of lubricant falls onto my lips. His cock tenses in the air, thickening in my grasp. Then he pulls back, pushing his shaft into his hand’s grip. His breathing quickens, chest rising like a barrel, and his teeth grind back and forth.
I say something crazy. Something out of the ordinary. Why not?
“You want this throat to gag on you, don’t you?” I ask.
My heart flutters with embarrassment and shame, a guilt that inadvertently causes me to tense up. But when he smiles and strokes his thumb into my mouth, I relax and suck, and I feel a sense of pride and lavish exhilaration.
I’m bad. And I don’t give a fuck anymore.
“You tease me,” he says.
I let go of his thumb and glance at the small puddle forming below me, bashfully biting my lower lip. “I’ve never done this before,” I admit. “Not like this…”
He lowers his head and pets my hair, gently whispering, “I will teach you how to open up.”
His cock is colossal enough to cover my face, and my eyes are closed, tongue wrapped around the tip, lips sucking on it like it’s a warm bottle of milk. He places his hand around my throat as he pushes in
deeper, opening me more than I ever thought possible. He drops his head back, moaning as my cartilage expands like silicone.
The pressure is deep, and it feels wonderful. Focusing on all that I’ve been through, I hold on to those experiences of sadness and turn off the pain for good.
My legs drag across the dirtied concrete, hands rolling and twisting across the now slick and monstrous shaft. Kalxor looks more pleased than ever, so I take it another step further and coat my tongue across his smooth, bull-like balls.
He wastes no time with feeling my tits, fingers lightly pinching and tugging on my erect nipples. He kneels and makes me surrender my mouth to his waiting, moist tongue.
Kalxor's breaths are ragged and shallow, barely resembling that of his anaconda grip over my chin. His chest buckles over me, and my own pulse races against my ribs as his teeth nip my bottom lip.
“My beautiful submissive human. I will breed you, impregnate you, and rid this world of infection forever,” he growls.
He can’t impregnate me. He’s a cyborg.
I’m not scared. I’m eager.
Then he slides his mouth into the crook of my neck, and I can feel his power sinking into me as he sucks a minor bruise into my skin. I feel the tears well up in my eyes as my lips meet his, our tongues colliding like tumultuous waves.
He never takes his eyes off of me. His hands are everywhere. He adores me, heat building between our bodies.
When we first walked through the entrance of this place, I didn’t know how to feel. But his eyes continue to graze my skin in a way that tells me he is concerned for my safety. My mind shudders with both happiness and apprehension.
This may not be real, but it feels good. For once, life feels okay.
My hair is matted with sweat, and my skin is clammy. My throat aches, full of his shaft and salty pre-cum, sensitivities and feelings I’m not so used to.
Giving myself to him isn't a question anymore. I know what I’m doing. I don't fight the taste, and I don't waste any breath in struggle or protest.
He holds my shoulders so that his hard alien cock presses against my soft cleavage, nails digging into the flesh beneath as he holds me steady, upright, but my knees are still in the prayer position.
I can feel the heat build between our bodies, the star-shaped burn that occurs when one reaches their apex with another.
In darkness, we stand on a cliff of discovery. And all we have are our most primal urges, the deepest parts of ourselves. Mirrors surround us, reflecting our images, but I don’t see myself anymore.