Chapter 5 #2
I keep an eye on her as I start the fire in the grate with the provided fuel source. There are all kinds of spices and sauces and vegetables in the totes, and it takes me no time at all to sniff out the ones I think my small human will like best.
Before long, the grill is full of sizzling meats and vegetables, and my little human has her face cradled in her arms as she watches me from where she’s half-asleep on the table.
It fills my heart with a gladness I don’t think I’ve ever felt to see her calm in my presence and to know that I will be the one to make sure she has sustenance this night.
The chicken behind us squawks, and we both startle, having forgotten she was there.
“I thought she’d wander off by now,” Lily tells me, then seems to remember that she’s speaking to me and clamps her mouth shut before narrowing her eyes again.
“Hmm,” I say, feigning noncommittal energy.
Inside, I am delighted. Beyond delighted, really joyful, and I wonder at the sensation, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
If her simply speaking to me conversationally causes such joy, I can’t imagine what it would truly be like to have her choose me.
Fully choose me as her partner, and not just for this ridiculous so-called reality show we have landed on together.
“They should call it an unreality show,” I tell her as I season the meat. The delicious aroma of charred meat and peppers fills the air, and as the sun sets behind us, more than one pair of glowing eyes blink into existence, watching us from the boughs of trees far overhead.
“In what way is anything that we are doing right now based in reality?” I continue conversationally, despite the fact that she is once again ignoring me.
I glance over at where her head was buried in her arms on the table, but my female is no longer sitting there.
My heartbeat speeds up. Surely Ken No Privates hasn’t already begun another trial.
No, I think to myself as I whip around, searching for where my little female could have gone to.
The idiot AI prefers dramatics and monologues before he sets us upon one of his so-called trials for viewership and ratings.
I lose a relieved breath as I catch sight of Lily’s short black hair glinting in the firelight of the grill.
She’s next to the huge bird, its eye unblinking as it tilts down towards her.
She is safe despite her choice to pet the giant creature, speaking to it softly which responds with a warbling, sort of pleased coo before sinking back into the ground under Lily’s soft touch.
She’s never touched me like that or spoken to me in such soft, kind words, and the hint of jealousy spikes through my veins. She can so easily turn her affections to this bird, which would have made a meal of her just as easily as we made a meal of its friend, yet I get her ire.
“I think we should keep her,” Lily says in a sing-song, besotted voice the likes of which you might address a small child. It’s sweet, a sort of sweetness from her that I am so unaccustomed to that it’s all I can do to blink, my tail swishing behind me in surprise.
“Oh.” It’s the only thing I can manage.
Fat pops on the fire, and I turn my attention back to the meat and vegetables in order to assuage my female’s hunger.
“Yeah, I think we should keep her,” Lily repeats. “You know, as like, oh, my ankle is hurting, and maybe I can tame her enough so I can ride her. Like an overgrown horse with feathers.” She turns to me. “Do you have horses where you’re from?”
My jealousy fades to pure delight, it’s one of the few questions she’s asked me about my home.
“I do not have horses,” I tell her. “I do not know what a horse is, but if it is important to you, I am sure that I can procure one.”
Perhaps a horse is what they use to ride the skies on her planet. I do not know much about humans. I certainly was not interested in them before I met Lily.
I carefully flip the meat on the grill, considering what a horse may or may not be, while Lily softly laughs behind me.
“Is it ready?” she asks. “It smells ready.”
I turn to her. “Almost.”
She pulls out several platters from the tote nearest the table and motions for me to fill them up.
“Thank you,” I tell her earnestly, then try to smile. My fangs show, biting into my lower lip just slightly, a sign of just how little restraint I have left when it comes to this female.
“Was there barbecue sauce?” she asks. Maybe it’s my imagination or just wishful thinking, but there seems to be the slightest hint of a smile around her lips too.
“I do not know what this barr-be-cute sauce is,” I say, doing my best to echo the sounds of the words she so charmingly made. “If it is something I need to mix together for you, I would be more than happy to.”
“No, no,” she says, waving her hand at me, then sets the platter of meats down. “I know I saw it somewhere in here next to the spices that are—oh.”
I follow her gaze to where the bottles and jars line the side of the grill where I left them.
“It’s right there, I think.”
“Your barr-be-cute sauce?” I ask, flummoxed.
“Why is it a cute sauce?” It must be very small.
It cannot have much taste to it, either, for her to call it cute.
I cannot think of a reason why you would have a small, tasteless sauce to go along with your already cooked meat, but if this is a human tradition, I’m interested in it, especially if it is one that she enjoys.
“No, it’s like a savory, sweet, sometimes spicy sauce that goes on meat. I’m so hungry I could eat this without it, but it sounds even better with some sauce on it, especially on the ones with the skin.”
She holds up a large piece of meat that still has the bone in it, with a perfectly crispy outer skin layer. She swallows hard, licking her lips, and for a strange moment, I’m very jealous of the meat.
“Do you often eat cock?” I ask her.
“What?” She gives me a strange look.
I point to the meat as I grab the different sauce jars, eager to try them. “Cock. You were very excited for this cock. Is it something of a delicacy on your home planet?”
“Well, they say everything tastes like chicken,” she says with a shrug, and there’s a slight smile when she bites into the meat. “Definitely needs sauce,” she says through a mouthful of meat, fanning her lips as steam comes from them. “So hot.”
“Of course it’s hot. Do not hurt yourself,” I tell her.
“Here.” I thrust a jar of sauce at her, and she quickly unscrews the cap, dousing her piece of meat in it while I watch, then try carefully to help myself to a smattering of vegetables and my own meat, watching as she dredges a bite of steaming cock into the so-called barr-be-cute sauce.
She’s ravenous, and I internally berate myself for not having done a better job of providing for my female.
I was so smitten with the idea of having a mate, in spite of all of my years thinking I didn’t want one, that all I could think about was sating the need I had for her and the pain of her heat.
“I’ve been selfish,” I tell her by way of apology.
She gives me an odd look but continues shoving food in her mouth. “Try the sauce, you’ll like it. It’s really good. It’s spicy, it’s smokey, it’s sweet, it’s literally everything you could want in a sauce.” She closes her eyes and makes an expression that has my cock growing harder than ever.
I wish I could make her look at me like that and it have nothing to do with the food that I made for her. Still, a sliver of pride goes through me because I did put that expression on her face. I was the one to provide her the cock she now feasts upon.
“It is good you like this cock in your mouth. It will make you strong—”
“Chicken.”
“That’s what I said.” My brow wrinkles as I run a finger over where my scar puckers on my face from it.
“No. That’s not what you said.” She swallows hard and pushes the sauce at me. “Eat something. Please put something in your mouth.”
“I will put the cock in my mouth if it appeases you.”
“It would appease me,” she says quickly.
She watches with wide eyes as I pour the sauce gingerly onto my plate, then dip the piece of cock I’ve selected for myself in it. Carefully, I take a bite, and my eyes widen, and immediately she grins at me with no restraint this time, just pure joy.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” she says, her mouth around the cock I prepared for her.
“Delicious,” I say. “This human sauce really tastes delicious.”
“Yeah, they call it finger-licking good, but let’s not call it human sauce, because that sounds fucked up,” she says cheerfully, then pops her finger into her mouth, sucking the remnants of sauce and spices off.
I catch the slightest glimpse of a light pink tongue on the flesh of her finger before her eyes widen again and she looks guiltily at me.
I throb with need for her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says sharply.
“I’m simply looking at you. I am not sure if there is another way I can look at you.”
“You’re looking at me like you’re thinking about me without my clothes on,” she says, pointing a piece of cock at me.
“Of course I am thinking about you without your clothes on.” The words surprise me. I certainly did not mean to say them. “I’m always thinking about you without your clothes on.”
We stare at each other for a long minute, the smell of her heat mingling with the delicious smokey scent of our meal, and I don’t think I’ve ever smelled something as tantalizing as this female sitting across from me.
“Please don’t say things like that out loud.” She sighs. “It makes me wet.”
I groan. “Why are you teasing me like this?” I adjust myself. “You said you wanted nothing to do with me, and now you tell me about how wet your pussy is for me?"
She stares at me through narrowed eyes, and I sigh. "You are a cruel female, and I find that it only makes me like you more, makes me need you more.”
“Maybe we should just eat,” she says, squirming uncomfortably.