Chapter 3 #3
His mouth pops off me, a bit of cum lingering on the corner of his lips. He swipes out his tongue, tasting it, and I hear that harmonic sound again as he brings my release into his throat.
Then the sound abruptly stops, and his eyes move to my limp dick.
I stare at it, too. It’s wet from his mouth, covered in monster saliva.
What a fucking weird day.
“Why aren’t you ready again?” he asks, bringing me out of my trance.
I wet my lips, and my voice is raspy when I respond. “I’m not superhuman.”
He eyes me, his nostrils flaring slightly. “I see. How long do you need?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never come that hard before.”
He sighs. “I can wait then. I have some time.”
He can’t be serious, I think, but apparently he is because he simply sits back on his heels and stares at my dick. And when he sees a bit of remaining cum dribbling from the tip, he swipes it up with a finger and places it in his mouth.
His eyes shut for a moment, and he lets out a sigh.
The silence in the room is awkward, my dick limp against my stomach, him between my knees, watching and waiting.
Should I say something? It’s technically against the rules, but I’ve broken the rules more than once today and no one’s burst in to throw me out, so…
“I like your piercings,” I tell him, and his eyes flash up to meet mine.
“You’re not meant to talk, human.”
I roll my eyes and sigh, trying not to bristle at his harsh rejection of my attempt to make small talk.
I know I shouldn’t take it personally. His rudeness is probably a cultural thing.
Not to mention, this is nothing more than a duty I’m doing in service to humanity. It’s probably better that I shut my mouth and remember what all of this is for.
It’s too bad I’m not good at keeping quiet.
“Your skin is soft,” I say, and he peers up at me.
“Yours is not.”
I blink at him. “Well, yeah. We have hair. Would you rather humans shave?”
“I don’t have preferences regarding humans. What I would like is for your dick to harden so I can suck.”
“Maybe talk nice to it again,” I offer.
It’s meant to be a joke, but he takes me completely seriously, shifting onto his knees and pulling it into his hand. He whispers something to it in his native tongue.
The sound of his language is beautiful, the melodic rhythm of his words wrapping around my chest and tightening.
I take a breath, but before I can ask him what he’s saying, I feel his mouth go around me once more.
I’m half-hard again, but the sensation of those piercings against my dick and his vibrating tongue wrapped around me once more makes my eyes roll back in my head.
He slowly teases precum from me, lapping up the beads that trickle from my slit. It’s slow and purposeful, like he’s savoring it.
My fingers hold on to the chair once more, my stomach flipping up into my chest as he swallows me down. Then he opens his mouth wider and takes more than my cock into his mouth.
His long tongue circles my balls, then draws them past his teeth and lets them rest in the warm, wet heat of his mouth as he suckles.
My hips thrust up as much as they can, desperate for more.
His throat rumbles, his cold piercings sitting just where I want them, running along the vein on the underside of my dick.
And when he truly starts to suck, I don’t last longer than a minute. My entire body tightens, my head thrown back as cum erupts from my cock.
I let out a scream that rattles the walls as I let go.
When I fall limp against the chair, the Vyastil lingers on my cock, licking up the last vestiges of what my body has given him.
And when he finally leans back, I glance at the timer on the wall reminding me our time is almost up.
“Come back tomorrow,” he says, standing up and adjusting his shawl.
I shake my head, trying to find my words, but it’s a struggle. He might have sucked my brain out through my dick, along with all the cum.
A second passes, and I manage to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “I have work.”
He scoffs. “Cancel it. I am more important.”
I blink in disbelief. He can’t be fucking serious. “I’m not going to show up here whenever you want me to. That’s not part of the deal.”
He frowns at me, looking genuinely confused. “I’m the commander of the Vyastil army. You’ll do as I say.”
I almost laugh. “Um, no. I won’t.”
He blinks down at me, those rainbow-colored eyes entrancing, but he says nothing. Maybe he’s playing chicken with me, but I don’t have time for that shit. I’ve been drained beyond all reason, and I’m ready to go home and nap.
“I’ll be here next week, just like I signed up to do,” I tell him.
He growls, showing fang at that, his tail reaching out and wrapping around my thigh and tightening. The sensation is…new. Different. And I kind of hate that I like it. “I am not pleased.”
“Welcome to Earth, buddy,” I say as his tail releases me.
The timer on the wall hits zero, and suddenly, my arms and ankles are released. He takes several steps back as I attempt to stand on wobbly legs, and I grab the gown from the counter.
He stares at me intently as I pull it over my head, then I gesture to the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your way?”
He grunts again, murmuring something in his language before wrenching the door open and stepping out into the hall.
The woman who led me in here jumps slightly at his brisk departure, turning her gaze toward me with about a thousand questions in her eyes.
Well, get in line, lady. I’m as confused as you are.
As the Vyastil stalks down the hallway toward the portal, she clears her throat.
“He seemed upset.”
“Yeah, he’s…something,” I say, and then give her a strained smile. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I did what I came to do, and he got his fill. Can you show me where the lockers are? I forgot.”
I’m surprised I haven’t forgotten my own name after all that.
She nods, tapping on her tablet as she leads me to where I left my clothes and phone.
As I change, my mind slips back to how I was restrained to the chair, his blue skin shimmering as he sucked my dick.
I feel a strange sensation as I try to pull my jeans up over my ass, and when I look down, I realize what the problem is.
I’m fucking hard again.
It’s a good thing that Vyastil is gone, or I have a feeling I’d find myself strapped to that chair again. And I’m not sure if, given the option, he’d actually let me leave.