Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
TIA
D espite the bushy mane on his head and lower arms and legs, the thick pelt on his shoulders and pectorals thins out to an enticing trail on his flat stomach. I continue kissing, and then put a hand on his chest, pushing him onto his back so I can explore everything. I’m practically salivating as I undo his belt, his tail twitching as I do. One of the biggest things that the women gossip about on this planet are how well-equipped their men are. Maybe this makes me a size queen, but I absolutely want Rem’eb to be packing some serious heat. I’m excited just thinking about it. And the sa-khui men have spurs. What glorious exciting things will this man have? His kilt falls away…
…and it takes everything I have not to whine in disappointment.
Rem’eb’s dick is…uninspiring. There’s no spur, no ridges, no nothing extra special. His penis is long and somewhat slender, with a foreskin that goes all the way up to a bulbed head, cupping the somewhat-larger-than-usual tip like a particularly thick turtleneck.
Oh. Welp.
Then I shake the disappointment away. It’s not about how big his dick is, or the accoutrements that come with it, it’s how he uses it and how he gets me off. And since he already got me off once, I’m determined to get him off, too.
So I give him a sultry smile, wrap my hand around the base of his narrow shaft, and take the head in my mouth.
Immediately, he gasps and pulls back. “Wait…Tia. My frill.”
Oh, that’s an interesting word for it. “Your frill, hmm?” I flick the tip of my tongue along the underside of his dick, teasing the hard circle that cups the head of him. “Is this your frill?”
His eyes roll back out of sheer pleasure. “You…are you sure you should put it in your mouth?”
That’s another thing I’ve been warned about—that alien men get shy the moment a woman tries to give them head. So stinking cute. I want to chortle with delight. I’m feeling powerful and sexy and in control, and I want nothing more than to make him come with my mouth.
I let my tongue flick against the head of his dick again, and then suck the entire thing into my mouth. I’m going to make him feel so very good.
Rem’eb hisses, his body tightening. “I…I do not know if I can last…”
Making sexy noises of agreement, I keep working his dick, pulling him deeper into my mouth and using my tongue along the underside of him. I want him to come in my mouth. That’s the point. I push that bulbous head of him deeper, as far back as I can take him.
Rem’eb makes another choked sound. “Tia…unfurling…”
Before I can wonder what that means, his dick balloons. It’s like someone opens an umbrella inside my mouth, and then the head of him punches deeper, pushing against the back of my throat and then flooding my mouth with come.
Startled, I jerk, only to find that I’m trapped. The umbrella of his dick won’t come out of my mouth. It’s too big. I make a panicked sound and he jerks back, too.
“Wait,” he says quickly. “We must wait for my frill to recede! Pulling will only hurt both of us.”
I whimper, bracing my hands on his hips while he strokes my hair and pants, trying to comfort me and come back from his orgasm at the same time. Luckily it seems that he’s not coming in several pulses—it’s like he delivered the payload all at once, deep in my throat, and now I’m left with what feels like an enormous dong stretching my mouth wide.
“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.