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"So you are say, I be really large?" The Synaree delegate did his thinking-dance while his eye-leaves conspicuously followed the pretty Ftalin's curves.

"(Should be, can be, will be)," Ftalin muttered involuntarily. She knew a Synaree would never properly learn those words; most likely he meant "should" anyway. But she couldn't help but correct. For her it was an automatic reflex. "What I mean is this. Males of my species are much larger, but you do not (need to) worry. My brain is easy to fool." Saying this, she rippled her abdomen teasingly and did something with her eyes which the Synaree assumed was meant to be equally sensuous.

He became nearly still as he watched her lithe abdomen curled around to present its tip. Her abdomen was a sequence of bluish plates which looked strong and soft, with a very slight fur. It ended in a bulb, almost spherical, with a horizontal slit he knew was hiding a fascinating sex organ.

Both of them came from species with prominent trailing abdomens, a feature which had now brought them together in private. It wasn't an entirely rare trait; any species had to stick organs somewhere, and when those organs didn't have a particular need to be one place or another, they usually ended up in the same place as each other, somewhere conveniently safe and out of the way. This place could reasonably be called an abdomen. It usually included some organs which needed, from time to time, to change size; so an abdomen was often built to stretch.

A trailing abdomen had the additional benefit of serving as a sort of tail. In the case of the amphibious Synaree, the tail/abdomen was essential for moving around in the water. He wasn't sure what hers was good for, but judging by the way she could wiggle it, probably something.

Ftalin was still talking, explaining something, but the Synaree found himself focused entirely on her body now, imagining how she would mate with her own kind. Given his voracious interest in interspecies sex, he had looked up the details some time ago. Once both partners were ready, the male would hold her firmly and begin to work the penis into her, as with many species. The process, though, would prove long and complex. Both the male and female genitalia in her species consisted of several layers of folds. So, roughly speaking, the penis consisted of a central tube supporting several flat, floppy discs of flesh. During mating, each disc would unfold in between two layers of the feminine lips, creating an elaborate seal that would hold in sexual juices.

The Synaree was fascinated by the amount of surface area involved. Ftalin's abdomen itself would be pleasant to hold, true; but what he was really picturing as he stared at her were the five to six sensitive layers concealed in the tip, each one a direct link to her pleasure centers.

It was interesting to consider how such a system came to be. He knew it had evolved naturally. But it seemed like a luxuriously overindulgent mechanism. The effectiveness of the seal was disproportionate; it could hold more pressure than the female's own body could. Surely such extravagance had to be sexual selection, evolved purely for show. Yet this was part of the mating act itself, not a part of seduction beforehand.

"... you listening? No thinking-dance or whatever?" Ftalin was simply asking, not annoyed. When dealing with an unfamiliar species it was expected that there would be some odd behavior on both sides.

"Ah, is true, I am preoccupied with your loveliness." He now took the time to process what she had been saying. The Synaree mind had the convenience of a longer experienced "now"... or at least, that was an appealing way of putting it. Certainly he had a very detailed short-term memory, and could essentially re-play what he hadn't been paying attention to.

He did indeed do a bit of a thinking-dance as he processed the information. She had described how she needs the feeling of being held by a large male in order to mate, but doesn't need to actually believe she's being held by a large male. Her arousal mechanism was easily manipulated.

"You are say, I hold you with enough limbs, you feel I am large but I am actually medium. So, I do this, yes. I have another idea too. My abdomen is in fact very flexible. I make it large for you."

The two went over other details of their reproductive enjoyment in preparation for the act. He was happy to find, as suspected, that each of Ftalin's inner lips was packed with (her equivalent of) nerve endings and mapped to a large part of her brain. Her body would only allow her to have sexual pleasure at certain seasonal times, and even then only once. She had been turning down less interesting sexual partners for days, despite ongoing cravings, precisely because of a desire to maximize the amount of stimulus to the folds of her sex organ.

"For me," she explained, "there's a necessity to mate while I'm fertile, and accomplishing that gives me our species' equivalent of an orgasm. But then beyond that there's a great pleasure in using these parts of my brain that only awaken once per cycle. The more use, the better. In fact, the more use, the better it will feel to do again next cycle."

For his own part, the Synaree delegate explained that his species' sexual desires were, like much of their thinking, organized around discrete goals. They were just special goals, in that the normal feeling of achieving a goal was accompanied by a more instinctual satisfaction too. For the Synaree, "arousal" was synonymous with getting the brain to classify a goal as sexual. He assured Ftalin that this would not take much effort in her case.

Having a detailed conversation while distracted by their desires was difficult for both of them; the Synaree kept getting lost in thought, and Ftalin explained that she kept having visual flashes of her previous sexual encounters. But such a conversation was an accepted necessity when having sex with unfamiliar species. For some species, it was a simple matter of telling the partner exactly what to do. For others, either creativity and spontaneity were a required part of the proceedings, or there was a broader space of possibilities; so a lot more had to be explained. For the Synaree delegate, finding out how another species worked was much of the fun, so he was happy to put in the time. But keeping their distance, resisting the urge for physical contact when they each wanted it, was maddening. Especially when Ftalin flexed her sleek abdomen...

Finally, they felt they had the details covered. They both put on brain-monitors, which would enable a simple telepathic connection, doing nothing further than allowing them to 'see' each other's pleasure - so they could know what they were doing right, without worrying about decoding alien body language. They turned his hotel room lights on very bright, at the right frequency to satisfy Ftalin's desire for ambient sunlight. The Synaree then jumped into his pool - as an amphibian he had been given a room with a shallow pool, and he also needed the water in order to have sex.

A Synaree body consists of numerous arms and one abdomen arranged radially around a mouth. The arms have just three major joints, but end in a flexible tip actually consisting of over a dozen joints, able to curl itself tightly around something to grasp it. Synaree have poor, but functional, natural eyesight; their ancestors relied mostly on very sensitive hairs on the numerous limbs to sense their surroundings. But at some point during the Synaree's ascent to becoming a spacefaring race, they picked up the habit of mounting electronic eyes on some of their limbs, repurposing some of the overabundant touch-sensitivity. Their brains readily adjust to the new input. Nearly all Synaree get extra eyes mounted at birth.

The Synaree floated belly-up and watched Ftalin follow him into the water. Her body floated on water, and she skated around the surface a bit, flexing her six long limbs, before swimming to him.

As the pretty alien crawled on top of him, her supple chitin slipping against his sleek, wet belly, they both could see the spike of pleasure in each other over the link. The physical contact, though unfamiliar, was a relief after the wait. They both needed a feeling of closeness to another body to get aroused - though she more so than he.

As he wrapped his many limbs over her, she laid hers on his abdomen, grabbing the fin-like fringe which lined both edges. Then she began nibbling his arms! Her mouth was perfect for it; the lower jaw consisted of six separate finger-like palps with which she could tease his sensitive skin. She could wrap a palp around his arm and pull him in, and simultaneously gnaw at him with her little nubbin teeth, all without using her arms.

The muscles of his abdomen rippled with pleasure as he held it tightly against her own, and he could feel his organ beg to come out of hiding. But he wasn't ready for that yet. As he continued to enjoy her kisses, he ducked his head under the water and began to swallow.

Meanwhile he wanted to find another avenue to tickle Ftalin's pleasure centers. She was slowly becoming more stimulated as he held her tight against him, and he loved the slightly supple feeling of his limbs held tightly against her smooth, hard, beautiful exoskeleton; but she didn't have many nerve endings in her chitin.

There was an exposed area between body and head, not covered by a thick chitin plate, but instead protected by brown fur. Two of his limbs moved up from her back and gently mussed the fur, and he got the spike of pleasure from her he was looking for. Her body shuddered pleasantly as she hugged tighter to him. He stroked the skin beneath the fur, exploring the soft material of the joint. It was only natural that more vulnerable places would be more sensitive to touch; fortunate that this didn't always mean the sensation would be unpleasant.

The tension of his arousal grew with this thought, and he flexed his body against her again. To him this was exactly what these sorts of encounters should be about - two intelligences finding the greatest possible number of nerve endings with which to be in direct brain-to-brain contact. Of course, he was ignoring the compelling nerve gathering down at the other end of her; but, all in due course.

"Ah-" she tugged at his fringe with her arms, "you really are getting larger..." She somehow formed words well even when half of her jaw-fingers were nibbling him. In answer, he could only speed the pace of his swallowing, each gasping mouthful of water forcing his gut to swell beneath her.

Swallowing was something he was efficient at, being amphibious. His cavernous mouth housed rows of gills, and was meant for breathing in and then spitting out mouthfuls of water, but he could just as easily direct all that down his throat. And his long, intestine-like stomach would take its time complaining of fullness. As it filled, he could feel the coils of his stomach press against his tightening abdomen walls.

She was speaking again. "This is ... just right ... ah, press me ... into you ... a bit."

He obligingly hugged her tighter, pressing her snugly into his ballooning abdomen so that she formed her own dimple.

"Ahh there, I'm so ... surrounded, you're ... so big ..." She stroked his soft abdominal skin in some delightfully complicated way with her mouthparts. The readout from her pleasure centers was changing, pulsing every few seconds. With every segment of her pliable body pressed against him, the Synaree could easily tell that the muscles at her abdomen's tip were flexing in time with this. There would be a brief bump of pleasure, and her body would relax (causing the gaps in her speech). Then, pleasure withdrawn, the muscles of her organ spasmed enticingly. Her abdomen simultaneously tried to curl downward. She had described this of course: once her brain was committed to the sexual act, for the most part her body would perform the necessary actions involuntarily.

The Synaree, on the other hand, planned on drawing things out a bit longer. Still swallowing great gulps of water, he decided to see what it would be like to tease her a bit. He positioned a couple of spare limbs at the bulbous tip of her abdomen, then stroked and poked without going near its inviting slit.

Her abdomen, lithe as ever, reflexively stretched back toward his touch. Her legs wanted to shove her off backward too, but he held her where she was. As he kept up his teasing prods, he could feel the muscles of her abdomen compress to stretch it backwards. Through the brain link, they enjoyed each other enjoying the feeling. He found that he could touch one side or the other and her body would curl in that direction. He could feel the hot blood pumping through her, warmed by the mock glow of her home star. At his touch she eagerly wriggled S-curves, pressed against his taut, slippery belly.

Suddenly his mouth's swallowing movements felt clumsy and unintuitive, as if he'd forgotten what he was doing. This was his body's way of politely telling him to stop swallowing water - a sure sign that his blood was becoming over-hydrated. Exactly what he'd been waiting for. He stopped the inrush of water, and his swollen stomach, pressed against a warm, happy alien, started to settle. His body politely asked him to rid itself of the excess mass, a goal which he redirected with the ease of long practice. His muscular stomach walls obediently bore the load, adjusting and tightening to keep the pressure even.

He let Ftalin's abdominal reflexes win their game of hide and seek, and with another powerful blip of pleasure, her body curled, thrusting downward to press its lower tip against his teasing hands. The muscles of his abdomen rippled against her involuntarily - she had struck true, her sexual opening pressing on the spot where his own lay hidden.

Finally he slipped his limb tips into her, the smooth chitin panels opening easily into softer flesh. As he gently explored the shape of the first internal layer, her pleasure readings climbed thirstily, dwarfing what had come before. Ftalin's body relaxed, noticeably softening against him, though her legs - now splayed outward across his widened form - still held on to the Synaree's abdominal fringes.

As he slid his flexible tendrils up and down her first inner layer, her waves of pleasure eventually stopped climbing higher and higher, apparently becoming fully sensitive to his touch. But soon her body again tensed with a lust for more - it seemed her brain would tempt her with these brief peaks of pleasure, higher than the current equilibrium, to keep her wanting ever greater stimulation. After each tiny surge of pleasure, her abdomen pressed itself downward and her soft inner flesh squeezed against him.

Obligingly, he slipped one of his limb tips past her first inner lips and into the second layer. He slowly moved it in a circle, careful to leave most of the new territory unexplored, broadening the circle bit by bit to tease out her pleasure. He kept her readings climbing for a long, sensuous moment, and Ftalin chittered happily. Eventually his flexing strokes found the very edge of the second layer, and her body again begged for more. He could feel the thick, wet layers compress against his wiggling hands when she shuddered. The entire set of layers were, it seemed, surrounded by a mostly spherical wall of muscle which could flex to put pressure on the contents.

Eagerly, he inserted another limb, and explored another layer. Each of her folds of flesh was thick and smooth, wide and flexible, and taut. Each had a slit in the middle allowing entry to the next. And of course, each was exquisitely sensitive. He added limbs one by one, stacking her pleasure higher and higher, starting out each time with slow, careful exploration, then toying with synchronized movement across her layers, then variation in speed and pressure, until no new distraction could keep her body from begging for another layer's satisfaction. Then the new pang of pleasure would hit her, showing her a new baseline higher than what he was providing, leaving her wanting ever more. With each layer, her body reacted more fiercely, clutching its layers more tightly around his caressing, serpentine hands.

He held her by five layers, and her body writhed with desire for the sixth, when he finally broke this pattern. He reached in a sixth limb (a tight fit, yes, but her body was designed to be penetrated by something swathed in six thick, fleshy layers) and began the stimulation her body was thirsting for. He allowed her pleasure to climb sharply this time, but then abruptly stopped short, wetly pulling out all his hands.

"N..O DON'T STO..." Ftalin's objection was silenced by the most intense wave of pleasure thus far. As it hit her, the Synaree at long last relaxed his genital slit, which was still directly below her own. With a wet pop, the soft, pillowy oval of his sexual organ billowed out of him. His hands hastily guided his stiffening flesh into her.

As her pleasure withdrew, her abdomen shook once again with the need for more. For the first time, her thrust was answered by his own, their two abdomens straining exquisitely against one another. The urgent, hungering clenching of her sensitive layers gripped his own eager organ. For the first time, he noticed that each layer's slit had a ring of muscle; and besides the strong grip provided by surrounding abdomen muscles, each layer dug into him in a little circle.

He allowed himself a feeling of victory, releasing every ounce of sexual energy he had built up holding Ftalin's artful, writhing body against himself. His semen poured sweetly into her. The Synaree penis, rather than having a single opening, was sponge-like, radiating his fluids from its every pore with each wet pulse. Despite the porousness, though, it was swelling into a stiff knot within the tightly clenching bulb of Ftalin's sex.

Even as his body reveled in the pleasure of release, the Synaree felt his glands refilling his stock of semen with a sense of relief. This, after all, was where he had promised his body the excess water would go.

Ftalin had stopped protesting his change of tactic, and the information from her pleasure centers showed that she was getting some enjoyment out of his rather alien presence. But for her, it was not yet time for orgasm. There was much territory yet to cross, he thought, satisfied.

As he slid out of her to begin again with his fingers, her body protested, her strong abdomen trying to grab and hold him. But he left her tempting tightness behind, hiding his sexual organ inside his abdomen again and instead embracing her demands with his sensitive limbs. His writhing digits flowed forcefully into her thrusting sex. In surprise, Ftalin bit down hard on the limb her mouth was holding; then as the pleasure soaked in and her body relaxed, the lower jaws let go of him one by one.

The Synaree renewed his careful dance of higher and higher pleasure. He did his best to fulfill her expressed main goal, of using as much of the sexual portion of her nervous system as possible during her one yearly mating. The lack of verbal input from Ftalin meant he must be doing fairly well; hers was a race virtually incapable of not talking.

He had nine or ten limbs in her now, gently massaging her, his smooth, sensitive skin telling him everything about her sensitive membranes as her body squeezed deliciously in response. Experimenting moment to moment, he found that dancing patterns of movement elicited the most pleasure from her; slow, circular strokes on each layer but then a sudden wave of speed, proceeding from outer to inner; simple rhythms of tugging; slithering games; pressure resisting pressure, teasing her inner slits. Her eyes did fluttery uninterpretable things, her heartbeat pounded, her body moved gently as it pressed against his, and her pleasure inched ever higher.

It couldn't last, of course; as carefully as he approached the limit, it was still there. As his massaging reached its peak, her brain once again gave a brief spike of pleasure, prodding her to want more. Her body shuddered in response, her warm belly tensing against his. Her sexual folds were stuffed with the attentive tips of his limbs, yet still her body instinctively arched downward, seeking to be filled with his seed.

His body wanted this too, but it could wait. Ftalin wasn't relaxed anymore, but she was clearly enjoying the feeling as her muscles strained against his massaging. So he continued his wriggling, his teasing, pressing against the renewed energy of her body's tightness.

The result was a perfect little spiral, her body's reflexes becoming more eagerly demanding, her pleasure inching higher as her muscles tensed against his, her body refusing to be satisfied and demanding yet more. He had to hold her tight with his other arms as she instinctively slithered and curled, her overstimulated opening trying to find his hidden penis.

Once he got proper hold of her he decided to see how far he could take this. Once again his task was to be as slow as he could manage, giving her body just the minimum encouragement needed to keep her pleasure burning brighter, and her muscles flexing tighter. And her abdomen was strong! The Synaree had already stroked every nerve ending within her layered entrance, but the muscles had been, until now, neglected. He could see, she enjoyed the feeling of squeezing tight and getting resistance. Before her muscles began to tire, his own did, his straining limb tips unable to do much more against the pressure of her than occupy space. And finally even that became difficult, her slippery flesh pressing his slippery flesh out.

He quickly filled the void, letting the waiting flesh of his penis billow into her and harden into a knot a second time. Her desperately excited body bore down on him, and tightened muscles meant for creating a perfect seal, her six layers folded tight against his billowy presence, demanding he fill her body.

His glands, as overfull as his gut, happily responded. The porous surface of his sexual organ, which was fighting to become spherical against the embrace of her six layers, once again released semen in every direction. This time, he would let his body give it all up. Ftalin's sexual entrance - she had explained - actually led directly to her stomach, so he would be able to fill her sleek little abdomen to its full, rounded capacity. Once her gut was satisfied, muscles would engage and rearrange her passages, and finally allow access to Ftalin's womb, which he would fill too. For her species, the male's semen provided a copious meal for newly impregnated mothers, allowing them to go without eating for the first part of the resulting pregnancy.

He groaned with satisfaction as he began to fill her, running his many arms down the smooth, plated body which he would engorge. She arced her body gracefully against the pressure. As his abdomen rippled with the effort of orgasm, he consciously sped the throbbing of his penis within her, toying with her expectations. Her muscles, not as quick as his, were clinging round him, clenching with a slow regularity. Ftalin was making a delicious purring sound by rubbing together her lower mandibles in a rolling sort of motion.

As Ftalin's stomach began to fill, the Synaree's own gut resettled. Glands emptying into Ftalin meant the water in his blood had somewhere to go; blood hydration back to normal levels mean the water in his gut had someplace to go. The process was a complex, seeping, biological sort of thing, but the end result was that his many mouthfuls of water were headed one direction: into her.

As her gut rounded out she began to become more and more excited, her pleasure finally wrapping itself tight in her head and promising orgasm. The clutching pressure of her on him became more urgent, more agile, and finally he could play real games with her, teasing throbbing and counter-throbbing as her body sought the security of pressure against pressure. She made small sounds as her pleasure centers jumped with excitement, catching on to his patterns.

To him this was the goal, the moment of highest brain-to-brain contact, two beings whose minds entirely focused on each others' pleasure. His body shuddered with renewed energy, inching her ever fuller.

They lingered in this state for perhaps too long, ignoring it as the pressure began to grow, her soft underbelly becoming tense against him. Ftalin's body begged for release, but she delayed, luxuriating in her one sensual experience for the year. Her body was designed to take the extra filling, but had its limits; even the somewhat softer plates on her belly weren't very stretchy, and couldn't round out into a sphere. Her abdomen filled out from being a flat cylinder to a tightly rounded one. As she resisted climax, each ounce of semen he pressed into her went the one remaining direction, lengthening her abdomen, stretching her overlapping plates apart. Then finally, she gave in. The muscles of her sex clenched down hard on him as her pleasure levels simply maxed out. If there was any subtlety now to what she was feeling or thinking, it was beyond the neural link's abilities to measure.

The Synaree could feel her body straining to redirect his inflow, closing off access to the stomach and at last allowing semen into the womb. What happened then was odd, and it took him a few moments to sort out the sensations. The opening to her overfilled gut tightened to a mere point, and then there was the feeling of shifting as muscles deeper within her tried to do something. But her wonderful sexual lips gripped him tighter than ever, constricting in unwavering rhythm around his orgasming flesh. His body responded eagerly, trying to fill her faster; yet at the moment, there was no place for the semen to go, except in between the layers of her sexual seal.

So her bulb of muscle and sensitive flesh, already strained by his knot-like intrusion, now was holding shiveringly tight against a growing quantity of his semen. Her neural link with him seemed simply to turn off. Whatever maneuvers her internal organs were attempting stopped, her body apparently too confused. Then the pressure released as her stomach opened its connection again, her tight inner layers gulping the semen into her and clenching back down around him.

She writhed with delight, The neural link was back on, and showing her pleasure not quite maxed out. Ftalin pressed herself against him as her her sex clenched around his. Throughout the pressure buildup, her body had managed to not spill any semen, her tight seal capturing every drop; but she was full now. Ftalin's mouth began to leak semen to compensate, his sticky liquid dripping out between her jaw-fingers.

Her body still wanted what it wanted, and in a few moments tried again. Her muscles clamped around his orgasming knot, and he did his best to resist speeding his ejaculations against the delicious pressure. Again the entrance to her gut closed off and his sperm built up within her tight layers. Fighting for muscular control against her oncoming orgasm, Ftalin wriggled and maneuvered her over-full abdomen, as if trying to find the right angle.

In no time at all, any excess space between her folds was full, and pressure was again building up. Her neural link somehow went dead again, and her body was still except for the rhythmic pressure of her sexual walls against each added surge of semen. Something was shifting deeper within her, inching her toward true orgasm; but slowly, too slowly. Her face seemed lucid and calm, and the two beings gazed at each other as their bodies struggled.

The pressure building against the Synaree's penis was smooth and frictionless, entirely fluid except at the base, where two or three of Ftalin's layers clung, keeping his slippery knot from popping out of her as the rest of her musculature pressed him in that direction. The Synaree's body began to ask unfamiliar questions of his mind as it got harder and harder to squeeze more into her. He hesitated, unsure which answers would cause his body to simply try to ejaculate more and harder.

But, the question resolved itself as her muscles finally proved the stronger of the two. Her body's grip could simply dish out more pressure than his pumping fluids. So, unable to make matters any worse, the Synaree put all his strength into squeezing sperm into her. The unfamiliar strain came as a white-hot pleasure in his mind, an orgasm suspended at just the right moment; his muscles feeling the strain of hers, hers feeling the strain of his. He leaned all his mind into the sensation.

Finally, inevitably, Ftalin's body managed to bend against the unforeseen pressure and open whatever sphincter or juncture was needed. Her neural link was producing readings again, and the composure of her facial expression was gone, given over to her body's pleasure. Instantly, the pressure was relieved, all the excess semen bursting into newly-open inner passages, her sensitive flesh once again contracting to rest directly around his. Her body shook now in orgasm as her womb filled with comfortable pressure, expanding against her already-heavy stomach.

Ftalin's many-layered sex contracted faster and faster, gripping the Synaree almost flutteringly as his ejaculation continued unspent. The sensation was quite lovely, but the Synaree knew that for Ftalin this moment was about the fluids inching up her body. He could feel the tightness through her soft underbelly; the womb formed a meandering line from one end of her abdomen to the other, in order to allow for a large surface area covered with eggs ready for fertilization. Well, Synaree seed wouldn't fertalize them, but her body would nonetheless demand more from him until every curve of that tract had felt the touch of his moisture.

Her heavy stomach was working against this, pressure against pressure; and Ftalin herself was pressed tightly against the Synaree's body too. She wanted to feel every exquisite inch as the wetness flowed into her. Her body twitched in pleasure, instinctually trying to wriggle and help the semen along, but for the most part she resisted.

And she could slow its progress all she wanted - it would come along anyway. Her delicious seal around the Synaree's gushing manhood guaranteed that.

As the curves at the base of her reproductive tract swelled, her abdomen walls refused to stretch any further, and Ftalin let a steady flow of semen dribble again from her stomach to her mouth. The many fingers of her lower jaw became entirely covered in his juices, and excess dripped down, rolled across his underside, and into the water.

Ftalin was making a very quiet, high-pitched sound, modulated like a sort of complicated trill, or very fast spoken language. It got a bit louder with each shudder of pleasure as his wetness inched its way up her insides, until the Synaree realized, actually, it was speech, though garbled by the fluids seeping out. She was saying something like "don't move don't move oh yes yes stay still still eeee don't move no don't move it's so good the stillness is good nnnn stay still it's coming don't move...". For the Synaree it was delightfully unfathomable how Ftalin spoke to herself in English. No Synaree ever talked to themselves, let alone in an alien language.

This last moment of the delegates' coupling stretched on for as long as one would hope, until at last Ftalin slipped up, writhing finally in delight and giving the Synaree's fluids free access. Her stream of speech became a triumphant "YESSS" as the last third or so of her inner egg chamber quickly filled, deliciously wet. Her sexual lips shuddered around him in a final embrace.

"Oh, whoops," she added, "I guess it's over." All tension was gone from her, and she simply lay flat on his floating body. Her reproductive tract closed off again. As the Synaree let his own orgasm finally end, she popped him out of her, and a final squeeze of her bulb's muscle evacuated much of the extra fluids left between her folds.

She didn't rest long. Sliding off of his belly, Ftalin rinsed her bloated body off in the water. She was as graceful as before, but it took her many more strokes of her arms to paddle her larger mass around.

When she got out of the pool, though, she couldn't help but look clumsy, dragging her heavy abdomen. When she got herself on solid ground, the weight made itself felt. "AUH why'd I have to get so full! I just want to go sun myself in my room, but now I can't walk." She could clearly walk; she was just used to not looking ridiculous. Because the chitin on her underside was more flexible than the plates on top, her packed abdomen curved upwards so that the tip pointed up. And she couldn't turn the way she was used to; she had to shuffle herself sideways.

"Oh, I probably sound ungrateful. I mean we didn't actually talk about feedback and social conventions but here goes. Thanks for the meal I guess? I mean actually I can feel it settling just fine, it'll take forever to digest but it'll be very pleasant actually... You must be starving, how can you just hand me so much nutrition?"

The Synaree had been busily emptying his stomach of the excess water; he coughed some water out of his mouth and answered.

"Is true - I put so much water through my system, I rinse out everything else. Not so bad, not is lethal. You carry maybe 1/6th of my body's nutrients in your abdomen now. Rest is pool water, and minerals that are from water. I am feel sick later, is well worth it for a beauty like Ftalin. I trust you enjoyed."

"Oh well uh. I can't actually tell you how good the sex was, at all. That part of my brain will be off until next time. Right now I have no idea why what we just did would appeal ever to anyone." She stared at him and thought, looking for something to say. The Synaree didn't particularly need Ftalin's praise or honest criticism, but he was silent, figuring she might say something interesting. "But I can thank you for relieving my physical needs, I suppose. Now once I sun myself and have some rest, I can think about the Delegation instead of about my reproductive cycle."

She started to shuffle herself toward the door, but the Synaree interrupted. "Ftalin, your neural link is having turned off twice while your body trying to allow orgasm."

Ftalin muttered variations of his flawed grammar to herself for a moment before answering. "Oh, yes. Actually the link was fine. My brain must have shut off. It's something we do when... well, it's something that helps form really distinct memories of a moment. It only happens when we feel like something's really happy and meaningful. I've never done it during sex before. So I guess it must have been good? I'll be really happy with you later I guess, when I can remember. Maybe I'll send you a message next cycle."

"Maybe meet again;" the Synaree delegate answered; "judge that when you are able. And I, happy to speak with you either way, next cycle. I then am able to thank the part of your brain which understands the thanks, that way." The Synaree felt a little sorry for Ftalin, whose mind apparently wasn't all available to introspection. But at the same time, the quirk probably kept her species from getting obsessive, and it was cute to see her reason abstractly about something physical and immediate that had just happened.

She was still thinking things over. "I don't know how to explain it, but it's really weird for me to know that about myself. I mean I guess I've always been aware my species has pretty compartmentalized brains. But like, if I can know I enjoyed something, how can that be different from enjoying it?" She rubbed her swollen abdomen idly, then abruptly turned again to leave. "Ew! I'd better stop thinking about it. Otherwise I might end up as some sort of oddball who enjoys sex."

The Synaree turned off his end of the neural link as Ftalin left. He didn't particularly want her to see the spikes as he watched her gingerly maneuver her abdomen through the door. With the sexual parts of her brain off, she could only misinterpret or take offense.

Ftalin apparently forgot to take her own link off. As the Synaree went about his evening, getting himself some nutrient supplements and waiting out the dizziness as his body recovered, he watched the wandering line of her ups and downs. He wondered idly whether she really managed to stop thinking about their encounter.

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There is plenty of porn where a male knots a female and proceeds to pump her ridiculously full of sperm. Besides the question of where the stuff goes, where does all that water come from? If you think about it your body's glands essentially produce various forms of filtered blood. Spit glands do little more than release the water in blood; other glands take nutrients from the blood and process them in various ways before release. That just means stored nutrients originally from blood are being combined with water from blood and then secreted. So the size of a given gland makes some difference - a larger prostate could produce more semen - but the larger limiting factor is the amount of blood, to borrow water from.

Of course most people either never wonder where the volume all comes from in the first place, or they're willing to suspend their disbelief. Apparently. And I admit there's a place for suspension of disbelief. And I admit some ridiculous fetish stuff is presented in a way that makes me go along with it, and suspend my own disbelief. But fundamentally I have to wonder, why portray something impossible? Wouldn't it be sexier if it was plausible?

Which is why it's great to write about aliens. Though I like to put thought into realistic alien biology, in the end writing about aliens means I get to say how things work. So we get this story here, where I provide a source of all that excess water - actual water.

I thought more about the Synaree's thought processes than I ended up writing - it ended up feeling kind of heavy-handed to try and describe the way he experienced goals and pleasure! The main reason being, for him his internal thought processes are very normal things - perhaps the most normal, familiar things in existence. Talking explicitly about them would seem to imply they were out of the ordinary. It just never felt appropriate to do that. So I thought carefully about his alien mindset and then wrote exactly what I would have written without any of the careful thought :P. Well - that's not exactly true, it affected his actual actions somewhat. But still, I would have liked the idea to show more in the result.

So here's the basic idea. As the text says, Synaree have got got a sort of goal-oriented psychology, and besides that they have a longer 'lived moment'. I incorporated a social failing which might be caused by having a longer 'now', but actually for the most part I think it would make you more intelligent. His short-term memory can actually hold a lot more than a human's, so he can think about more things at once. The goal-oriented mind, on the other hand, I think of purely as a poor way of thinking. For example, Synaree are, by default at least, very competitive in games, and don't like losing. They have trouble enjoying something as abstract as putting forth their best effort, or simply doing fairly well; an obvious goal like winning focuses their attention. And, once they complete any sort of task, they think of it as over with; they're unlikely to follow up on it later. They have trouble doing something 'just to try it'; they have trouble of thinking of anything (outside their several-minute 'now') as an ongoing, dynamic process.

The reason none of this is relevant to his actions in the story is because Synaree have various ways of coping with these problematic thought patterns. A good Synaree will learn to treat a wider variety of things as mental goals, including for example "try out this game" (rather than "win this game") and the important but complex goal "do my best". A good Synaree recognizes the continuum between success and failure, and the reality that nothing is ever entirely over. A more average Synaree might not do these things, but will at least know how to lie to its own brain properly in order to function in an ambiguous and open-ended world. For example they won't try new things just for the sake of trying them, but they will create excuses to try things.

I didn't put nearly so much thought into Ftalin's inner world, sorry!