FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

She moved differently than anything he had ever seen.

At least, 'she' was the pronoun everyone used. It's easy to tell the 'genders' apart in a Wolszczan, but in an alien is gender really the same thing? He was starting to wonder that more often.

Late in the evening she would come back from... from whatever it was she did with her time (is 'work' a thing for the Wolszczan?); he would hear her out in the hallway, those almost galloping footsteps, and then the struggle with the doorknob. She had it down to an art, so that it was open well before he got to the door to help; but whatever she had to do in order to grab and twist a knob designed for an Earthling, it didn't sound easy. He imagined her doing a headstand so her feet could reach.

Then she would appear. He couldn't help but turn from whatever he was doing and watch her come in. The same old puzzles would run across his mind every day. Why just a trace of blue dust in her fur? When she arrived, she always smelled like soap or crushed leaves. Later she would smell like... well, plastic? Chemical. Like her normal self anyway. He supposed he probably smelled like chemicals to her, too; if she could smell. Everything's chemicals anyway.

He would watch her close the door, and wonder why she lived in an Earthling apartment. The mysteries of her various muscles showed through her sleek fur as she pushed the door closed and turned around. If he just watched her enough, he felt, he might understand her as a whole, grasp the enigma in a glance. He had always felt this way about wildlife, and about people's faces. Her fur was marked, dark dark spots and stripes woven over gray. Did that mean Wolszczans were naturally camouflaged? Or was it decorative? Were they hunters? Or herbivores?

She was an eight-legged thing, long limbs folding well against each other but each pair very different. Some people called them 'octopuses'. This rubbed him wrong. Aliens were aliens, not bugs, or octopuses, or anything else Terran. If anything, her movement was like a bird, or a crab; there was that sense of move-hesitate-move. He got the feeling each part needed to be in its place, though he still hadn't pieced together the overall pattern. Most people just saw a mass of limbs; he liked to think he knew where the face was, at least.

He had met her while looking for a new apartment. He'd followed work to this planet, Wolszczan, as a step up from Earth; but just a small step up. When he'd departed Earth there were only humans on Wolszczan. When he arrived, native Wolszczans were apparently a mundane mystery to the inhabitants.

In any case, his office job didn't afford him his own apartment. He had an ad out for a (human) roommate, but on arriving to check out one apartment, the office secretary, a young man with some sort of local accent, had cautiously asked whether he would be interested in staying with a Wolszczan. Heaven knows how the deal had been worked out - with no shared language, human/native relations came down to gestures. But Wolszczan roommates were apparently reliable and safe. And, he was curious. So he didn't hesitate.

He'd been brought to a room with a few waiting aliens. Told to extend his hand. For a moment the group didn't really react, finishing whatever chirping, shoving conversation (maybe?) they were having. Then one padded forward, and he found himself holding an alien forearm.

To him, it was first contact. He shook the hand, then realized she probably wouldn't understand. Her eye-limbs separated a bit and were clearly taking a good look. He was told to just lead her, and they'd go see the apartment.

So they lived together without a word, without even an exchange of names. She paid her rent and he paid his. There was some interaction, but so much of what she did was unintelligible, he just tried not to interfere. Leaving the sink running for an hour or two at night, for example. Taking white cubes out of the fridge, leaving them in the dish cabinet for a day, then putting them back.

They would often watch each other. If he was in the living room, she would sometimes sit perfectly still in the corner near her room, for just ten minutes at a time, eyes splayed out to watch his movements. Maybe her way of being polite. He was much more obvious, he thought, getting up to watch her do something in the kitchen, or turning to watch her come in to the apartment. He would smile apologetically when one eye-limb glanced at him, but what kind of an apology is a smile, to an alien?

The human population of Wolszczans was fascinated with their alien neighbors, at least at a distance. They were described as 'majestic' and were something of an icon for the planet, yet people clearly hoped they would stay to their underground cities. They were apparently frightening to be near, for most. He learned not to mention his roommate at work. Sadly, it made him look low-class to admit where, and with what, he lived. Mostly he didn't talk about the aliens at all.

One day, though, a coworker was watching something about Wolszczans on her computer. He couldn't help but watch over her shoulder. It seemed to just show the aliens going about their daily business.

She gave him a grin over her shoulder. "You haven't seen it yet?"

"Is that - it's ... an entire movie? About Wolszczans?"

"Sure is," she gushed. "I couldn't watch the whole thing of course, but I'm kinda tempted to try. It's amazing!"

He was missing something. "But who would make such a thing? Noone can understand it."

"Oh, no no no, a group of octopuses made it! Learned to use the equipment and everything."

Whatever. "Really! ...Really?" couldn't help but be a little skeptical. "They just up and decided to make a movie."

"I guess they wanted to make something like a human movie."

That's nonsense, he thought. "Something like? But they can't even understand movies, what are they going to copy? ... I wonder if it has a plot."

She gave him a look and a shrug. "Can't really tell. But they made something."

He couldn't stop wondering about it. The aliens, even his roommate, seemed so mysterious; he always found himself wondering whether the most basic ideas - food, work, curiosity, even time - would be shared by another species. Now they had gone and made a movie. Maybe communication wasn't impossible. Maybe understanding could come piece by piece.

As soon as he got home, he looked up this apparent alien movie. The news feeds described how an amateur photographer had shown some Wolszczans what cameras were for. Alien hands couldn't make much use of computers, so the film had been made as a series of takes which the Wolszczans then sorted through each time they showed the film to one another, using the camera's built-in playback feature. The camera's owner edited those scenes together.

There did seem to be a sort of plot to it, following two or three recognizable main characters. At one point a human showed up, saying "Hi", glancing at the camera, then "I don't know what I'm supposed to say.." before being led off. The Wolszczan actors seemingly worked around it; probably it was good enough for whatever the scene was.

There was the usual sort of galloping sound (and doorknob gymnastics) at the door, but he didn't even realize that his roommate was arriving until she was there, pushing the door closed and craning an eye-limb his way. He was watching the film on his computer; she couldn't see it but she apparently heard the Wolszczan chatter. She set down her things and walked up to him. She hadn't walked right up to him since the day they'd met.

He noted that she was very 'collected', sort of like a dog sitting on command or a soldier at attention. It was the same as the stiff way she stood when watching him, which he thought of as 'polite' or something.

He felt like he should speak, so he said something or other. She said some sort of sound back and looked at the computer, still playing the movie. Well then. He sort of positioned it more toward her.

She crawled onto the couch beside him.

The way a Wolszczan moves, they generally don't go slowly; their limbs will generally flash to wherever they're headed, then correct if necessary. Well- he had always told himself, maybe I'm wrong, maybe my motions look jerky to her just like hers look jerky to me. Yet, she clearly was trying to move slowly, by moving fast but pausing frequently. She just put one limb on the couch at a time, then carefully turned around to face the computer, and sat down.

It was exhilarating to him. He'd never sat right next to her. She was, in a way, a large and impressive animal. Though if he thought of her in human terms, she wasn't big really.

Right, okay, take a breath. It seemed like she was being as polite as she could, so he ought to do the same. He reached for the computer (slow, no sudden movements, just like she did for me) and restarted the movie. He sort of gestured about it, like 'look, I'm moving it all the way back,' but as ever, figured he shouldn't try to hard to be understood.

So he found himself watching a movie over again, which he'd had no chance of understanding the first time. Naturally paying more attention to the creature next to him. He could feel her breathe, and he felt her body heat too. So Wolszczans were warm blooded. he'd never thought about that.

She was far from a passive viewer. At times the figures on screen apparently made words or gestures that made her jump, or tense up, or make various little sounds. He didn't really know what any of this meant, but it gave him a better idea of what was important.

He decided, slowly, that the movie was probably fiction, probably telling an actual story. At least one of the characters had its markings painted on; to look like someone else maybe? And there were fabricated props, some sort of tool maybe.

As his roommate got more relaxed and into the story, she was less careful about being next to him, and her reactions were less quiet. She put a couple feet or hands oh him and was leaning on him most of the time in order be right in front of the screen. he'd never gotten a good look at her hands. They were like a flap at the end of the arm, but they did have a sort of finger on each side. She was leaning against him using the two foremost limbs of her left side, and each had a different type of hand. Neither looked very capable of grasping things; he knew she used the second-to-last pair more often.

He decided to touch her fur. She seemed comfortable, and he didn't normally walk up and touch her. Still, he felt awkward about it. But he might not get the opportunity again.

The gray fur on her second shoulder was nicely fluffy. He made it sort of a playful ruffling, in his head pretending the gesture was somehow sympathizing with her reaction to the movie. Then reminded himself he had no idea what social contexts would make sense to her.

She decided to (playfully?) nibble his shoulder, with her big v-shaped mouth; then resumed leaning on him.

It was around this time that he began having certain thoughts.

To be honest he'd been sort of aroused by most of this, but had written it off as an automatic biological response. There's a natural reaction to a warm body; during his teenage years at least, he'd gotten brief erections from picking up and holding pets, regardless of gender. It had never caused him to think he was attracted to them; it had more to do with the size of the animal and the type of interaction. This creature, though, was apparently being physically close on purpose.

He wanted to return the gesture. He wasn't sure what was the appropriate, but there were some fuzzy appendages (like ear flaps?) that he thought were cute so he decided to give one a nibble.

He felt several hands on him and her mouth was at his neck. He breath came in a couple bursts, then something wet touched him. A bony tongue? But almost immediately she pushed him away. Not far away. She held his arm with her manipulating hand, which he took to be a good sign.

They watched the rest of the movie. He didn't really make any sense of it, though toward the end he did see a shoulder-nibble.

When it ended, the Wolszczan turned her eyes on him with an abrupt energy and made some sort of pronouncement. The thrumming, chirrupping words kept coming though; really it seemed to become more of a speech. He'd never watched a Wolszczan speak from up close, so he took full advantage. He couldn't really tell how she made sounds. There was some slight mouth movement, or really, vibration, but not a lot of air movement.

Whatever she was saying got pretty animated. She seemed to make facial expressions by arranging her eye-limbs in different ways. There was an area of white fur, only visible when all four were spread apart, which seemed to be shown or hidden for expressive purposes.

Before he knew it she was done talking, and watching him expectantly. After a moment or two she stood up, and then began drumming (nervously?) on her own body with her hands. He figured he was supposed to react.

"Wow, this is great. We've never really interacted much -" There was a sort of fluttering movement of her eye-limbs and then she placed a hand on his arm, so he stopped talking. The Wolszczan looked him in the eye briefly and he watched her pupils shift shape a bit; not dilate exactly, but a central flap shrunk to allow more light in. Then she pulled him up off the couch and physically led him. He wondered whether one Wolszczan would ever lead another by the hand. He had led her once, of course, but to him physically pulling someone somewhere seemed like the sort of things aliens might not do or understand. Like putting a cat on a leash; most cats will just panic and refuse to move.

She led him to her room.

He'd never been inside her room before. There wasn't a bed, though there was some furniture, basically storage shelves. Mostly the room consisted of various piles of a cloth-like material, covering the whole floor. Lighting was provided by some apparently Wolszczan devices, and the room seemed dim and bluish to his eyes.

She released him and then more or less climbed up him, leaning her weight against him and placing her mouth back on his neck. With little wet nibbles she explored open skin, moving down until the collar got in the way. So it seemed she knew what she wanted - and he decided to start unbuttoning his shirt.

What was he getting into? He liked the idea of being friendly with her; and even enjoyed the physical presence of her leaning against him. He ran his hands through her warm fur, feeling unfamiliar bones and muscles, and felt the pressure of her various hooves or hands or paws against his chest as he held her closer. He had no intention of interrupting whatever she was doing. But why should he assume he had any idea what that was? Maybe she was grooming him, as a sign of friendship; or tasting him before eating him; or maybe both, if Wolszczans eat their friends.

An eye-limb managed to make eye contact with him even though her head was on his shoulder. He smiled and decided he might as well act however he felt.

So, he turned his head and nibbled on the not-ear flap he had tried before. No sudden disapproval this time; he was rewarded with a cute sort of squeal. Her manipulating hands found their way to the rest of his shirt buttons and finished unfastening them, while her other hands pushed him down onto a waiting mound of floor-material.

He let her explore with her mouth while he explored with his hands. His instinct was to hold her by the waist, but there was, if anything, an overabundance of waists. She was organized around four large bones, including the head; each one supported two limbs, except that her head-bone had two foot-limbs descending from it plus the four small eye-limbs. Rather than a spine along her back she seemed to have just a single joint between each large bone.

He laughed. How odd to lack a sensual point of reference. He liked the feeling of her muscles moving under his hand; but was he groping a hip, or a shoulder?

Maybe he could try kissing her? Her mouth felt like it involved some sort of a joint between three different bones, though the result was a V-shape that didn't seem to open very far. The occasional feeling of something bony reaching out made him hesitate to experiment.

He rolled her off him a bit and slid down to explore her warm underside. Denied mouth access, she purringly took to stroking his back with all eight appendages.

Exploring between her second pair of legs, he found that something like a clavicle connected each leg to the center. Yet there was an orifice! A shallow v, closer to a straight line, hid amongst some fuzzy fur. Her chemical scent was strong here, and he was starting to like it.

He gave an experimental lick. She trilled something - loud; and a sensation on his back informed him that she had claws. She was scraping his skin gently with a row of them, apparently located on what he would have called her wrists.

Placing his hands firmly on her back, he tried it again, licking and then sucking on the slit. She chirruped in response and he realized the sound was coming from right in front of him; not through her opening, but from somewhere in her body. He realized she must have at least two voiceboxes, one in her head and one in here.

Her slit was presented on something of a mound, sort of a shallow cone of bone and flesh, part of the overall hip-like structure, which allowed it to protrude slightly from the surrounding underbelly. He gently applied more suction. They held each other tight as he prodded her with his tongue. The slit widened and opened a bit - and immediately started sucking back. He allowed her to take in some of his tongue, and tasted her inner juices. Mild, but again more chemical than organic. Her suckling was pleasantly insistent, and as she pulled in more tongue he couldn't help but think about what it would be like to let her pull in his penis. Hm, did she think his tongue was a reproductive organ?

She was still gently clawing his back, so he decided to return the favor, running his fingernails through her fur and getting used to the curves of her anatomy. This won him some more pleasant noises. Each hum or chirrup made vibrations he could feel with his tongue.

Meanwhile, her exploring limb-hands had decided his pants should be removed. Apparently buttons weren't too confusing a concept, and soon all four of her hindlimbs were pulling the fabric off.

He idly wondered whether aliens had orgasms, or instead just found coupling pleasant. Really, as strange as she might be, he was lucky that so much of this experience seemed familiar. As with anything else, though, he figured he would just have to act on his best guess and hope she could understand his behavior.

So, he decided to see if he could drive her to some sort of climax. He redoubled his efforts on the shaft before him, tasting as deeply as he could and doing his best to match her sucking abilities.

As she chittered and hummed in response, he wondered if she was saying anything. Several of her arms wrapped tightly around him, but her manipulating hands were still exploring, having just finished removing his underwear. He rolled his weight more onto her and let his erection lie against her underbelly, feeling her soft fur and warmth as he pleasured her.

The dim blue light against her fur and the strange smells somehow added up to an idyllic scene in his mind. Her back arched against the soft pile of floor material as she leaned herself into his face. He responded to her noises with his own humming grunts.

Grinding idly against her, his dick brushed against something wet and warm yet rough. She stopped moving or humming, so he withdrew his tongue and looked down. Her manipulating hand went to his penis.

It took him a moment to make sense of what he could see, but there was apparently a roughly triangular area of open, pink flesh down there, at the 'crotch' corresponding to her manipulating hands. He gasped as he realized he was looking at parted lips of another orifice - very widely parted lips. The arrangement was something like a funnel leading up to a depression that actually entered her body. The wet flesh was textured with little nodules.

So then... each pair of legs had a corresponding opening, though structured as differently as her various feet. Had he been attending to the wrong hole? Well, whatever he did apparently turned her on enough to open this other one. That area of flesh had definitely looked like fur before.

Holding his hips with several limbs and his penis with another, she lowered him onto her. She laid his member's head on the folds of the depression at the tip of her opening, and the area of open red flesh extended fully down his length; yet his balls rested on fur.

He looked up at her face, momentarily not sure how to take all the strangeness. Her head wasn't facing him, but two eye-limbs were casually curled down to watch.

The hot flesh closed around him; through some vaguely confusing movement of internal bone plates, the triangle became narrower until no red flesh was visible, and then her slit closed over his swollen length. He hummed his pleasure as he gently pressed into her, feeling his head find its way deeper, and the hundreds of hard little bumps rub against his shaft. She was warm, she was wet, she was tight, and above all she was exotic. He slid his hands over her back and nuzzled his cheek against a soft area of underbelly, content for a moment to be deep in her. But as he moved to pull out a bit, he felt a series of little pricks. Barbs!? The hard nubs turned out to be sharp, digging into if he tried to move any direction but inward.

As he realized his predicament, her anatomy finished a final stage of closing over him; everything settled into place suddenly, and the opening around the base of his penis constricted to a narrow slot. The pressure on the whole of his length doubled or tripled, sending a wave of sensation through his groin that helped him fight off growing concerns. The barbs dug into his skin, but weren't doing any real damage; their ability to hold him in was distributed across so many pinpricks that they didn't hurt him individually.

The Wolszczan happily pressed the whole of his body against her with her many arms. Then, she began humming; a noise that started as a pinprick of sound, an involuntary chirp, but then kept going. Over maybe thirty seconds, the sound swept down, becoming deep and wide, but simultaneously seemed to split into a hundred frequencies, making a rich organic throbbing. The sound wasn't loud, but it resonated firmly inside her; he realized she was creating it somewhere inside the specific 'hips' he was pressed against.

Involuntarily, he ground against her as the humm reached deeper frequencies and resonated in his own flesh. She seemed to be feeling him with the sound; sweet little vibrations swept up and down his length as her tone shifted, then seemed to settle into place. There was a sensation of her 'grabbing' the head of his penis even as he was held firmly in one (tight) place. He felt himself thrust in response, and enjoyed the feeling of her immovably tight entrance sliding further down his base, but also felt her greedy barbs inch their way further. He decided he'd better stay as still as he could.

After spreading to the whole of his tip, the gentle, sensual sound within her found the resonance of the loose flesh of his urethra, and tickled its way down to the base; then made forays into the swollen flesh that made up the rest of his erection. The experience of hearing her adjust her voice and simultaneously feeling the effect was enthralling. To try and keep himself from moving, he did his best to picture that the rest of his body didn't exist. As his manhood got stiffer and stiffer in response to her, the Wolszczan's body just seemed to close in tighter and tighter.

Finally she seemed to have found all the right frequencies, reaching lower and lower with her voice. Whatever supplied the sound clearly didn't require any air; she showed no signs of needing to break for breath. As reached the full frequency, the effect was like a light turning on; the resonance was no longer a tickle on the surface, but filled his whole length.

One of her hands found its way to the small of his back, and seemed in a way very human, pressed there. She pressed the little claws at the wrist into him, and then slid her voice downward. The complex sound that resonated so perfectly with him seemed to just let go. No part of her body moved as she let her voice drift downward.

Then the sound hit a new, deeper sweet spot. Since she had kept the sound the same, it resonated him all at once, instantly coming back full force.

Simultaneously, her body squeezed tighter, leaving him throbbing against the pressure. There was a disorienting feeling of some of the blood actually being forced out of his erection. Her voice shifted in perfect response, keeping the whole of his organ bathed in sound.

Apparently content with the frequency and pressure, she resumed her other explorations of his body. Sliding her fingers around his ribcage, she placed three of her hands on his chest and angled him up so she could explore there. Through the haze of his pleasure, he laughed, wondering if she was expecting to find an extra 'mouth' below his collarbone. Apparently this was about right; as one hand searched his upper chest, another found his bellybutton. She quickly discovered, though, that this hole neither went anywhere nor got a real reaction from him. He brushed the hand away to hopefully make the point clear.

What must natural Wolszczan sex be like? Despite all the similarities between body segments, he couldn't help but assume that the structure so tightly holding him now was the single actual sex organ. But she had enjoyed his attention to the one closer to her mouth. And (similar to humans) she used her mouth during foreplay. Maybe Wolszczans were used to joining at three or even four points.

He could picture perhaps kissing her and using his fingers to stimulate the intermediate slit, but in practice her mouth was just too unfamiliar. A v-shaped 'beak', furry until a 'tooth' at the tip, seemed the only moving piece; the beak normally lay flush against her head, almost hiding the existence of her mouth. It could lift a bit to scrape food up into the mouth, and as of today he knew it could retract a bit, enough for the interior of the mouth to moisten his skin as she caressed him.

But kissing? He'd be afraid of the tooth, and afraid his tongue would get the same sort of rough treatment his penis was currently enjoying.

Thinking about it, though, he reached down and kissed her neck. Or torso, maybe, if he thought of the limbs on her head as arms. Feeling her heavy heartbeat through hidden veins, he kissed the taut skin and let his saliva wet the short fur. He worked his mouth down toward the opening between her second pair of limbs.

As they gently held each other, from time to time she was moving her hands to his hips and pressing him down against her. Her flesh itself was unmoving in its tight grip of his organ, her tone unchanging in its gently stimulating humm. The pressure of his flesh against hers was astonishing, but she held him so firmly in place, the thrusts her body was enticing him to were impossible.

As he neared the bony curve that supported her second pair of arms, he felt a second heartbeat in her flesh, apparently belonging to the second segment. He carressingly angled the Wolszczan's back so that this would be easier, then made the move down to her slit, curving his own back to reach. As he began sucking on the orifice, he realized there was no risk of slipping out of her lower opening; so he let her body do the work there. Here opening was so tight around the base of his engorged shaft, he couldn't move in the slightest; the inner barbs didn't even come into play.

As before, the mouth of unknown purpose gently opened. greedily invading it with his tongue, he was rewarded with a reaction at his crotch.

Apparently that lower orifice could suck, too.

Rather than the rhythmic pressure he was hoping for, though, it was a shock of initial stimulation followed by a more controlled build. The suction apparently entailed slight shifts in her humming, so maybe she was controlling herself to keep that vibration steadily on him. But as he distracted her with his tongue, each surprising suck or flex elicited a hiccup in the process, ratcheting him closer to ecstasy.

The low pressure of her inner suction didn't mean a decrease to the high pressure of her walls bearing down on him. It just made him more engorged, his flesh filling every crevice of her. Despite the tightness of her opening, he could feel its pinch slide further down his base, his swollen blood vessels fruitlessly resisting the motion.

He realized he was letting her have her way with his tongue, and resumed trying to tease a response out of her. But her inner suction seemed also to have reached a level she liked, and changed no more. She cooed happy or urgent noises at his tongue, but the sensation at his crotch was once again unchanging. If anything, he had made things more torturous for himself.

He had to admit, though, the pressure alone did something for him. It was an unfamiliar way of going about it, but he could feel himself edging toward orgasm nonetheless.

Her body language seemed impatient; she was no longer occasional with her grabbing at his hips. She had four or five limbs stationed there to press him tightly to her. Did this mean she was nearing some hypothetical orgasm herself? Or perhaps firmly holding her mate in place was something that would help arouse a male Wolszczan, and she was awaiting his climax. Logically, whatever happened next had to be up to him since her own behavior was in apparent stasis, not building toward something.

She would just have to wait a bit more. His orgasm was certainly coming on, however slowly. As it began to hit him, he abandoned his awkward position and stretched out, pressing against the warmth of her body, massaging the muscles of her back. Something about the intense pressure on his organ made everything play out in slow motion. He basked in the seemingly endless wave of pleasure as urgency slowly became more immediate. The moment before orgasm, normally a perhaps second, seemed to stretch out to over a minute. He felt his body prepare as never before, the buildup of semen filling his mind with a bright, insistent warmth.

At the very peak his mind suddenly took an outside look at the situation, seeing himself and the Wolszczan as two beings from entirely different backgrounds, brought together first and foremost by sharing the same Universe; but also happily sharing enough similarities that they could hold one another as they would a member of their own species.

His broadened view closed down to a point as release hit him. He strained in vain to move deeper into her as the ejaculation coursed through him. As the semen hit the flesh folded around his member's head, her body began to respond. The firm, barbed walls around his shaft remained still, but the softer flesh leading deeper into her accomplished a sort of lapping motion which gathered up his seed as he supplied it. Her suction, too, became firmly aimed at this task, relaxing after the initial burst and then greedily tugging his flesh as the second one arrived.

After the prolonged, purely unmoving stimulation, this was almost shockingly pleasant. Each ejaculation was cleaned up immediately, her warm flesh tugging and squeezing at his tip, leaving his body happy to provide another. The adamant suction stretched him further in, each shift in position coming as a wave of sensations as the barbs gently repositioned against his skin.

The Wolszczan was in apparent throes of orgasm herself. Her body tensed and lifted. She'd lost articulate use of the vibrating inner voice, and instead used each voicebox to groan or chirrup a happy response to his body's ministerings. Rather than the usual neat, controlled movements that defined her, he felt her arms sliding or jerking across his back.

As her body teased the last few throbbing throbbing spurts out of him, he wondered why an alien would orgasm, and why it would be recognizable. Not all Earth species experienced anything like it, so it clearly wasn't necessary. But why would it be fairly common? It must simply be that the type of pleasure useful for rewarding reproductive behavior tends to distract the whole brain, to the point of reducing motor control.

As his erection began to soften within her, he felt her barbs sink in and refuse him exit. This wasn't an action on her part, just the result of his involuntary decrease in size. She was actively trying to hold him in, though. The Wolszczan's orgasm was intensifying, if anything, and her body fought against his, sucking violently to pull the blood back into his deflating member. He did what he could to cooperate, straining to stay erect for her whole orgasm so he could avoid the bite of her barbs.

Their combined efforts were more than enough, and he once again found himself throbbingly stiff, squeezed tight within her tense organ despite his post-coital state. He could enjoy the pressure, and the teasing sensation of her inner opening lapping at any last traces of cum; but mentally he was elsewhere, just enjoying the warm body in his arms. Stretched out against her, he was about even with her head; the forelimbs which came down from directly behind her head were hanging over his shoulders onto his back. As she continued to writhe in pleasure, her eye-limbs were splayed out from her head and lay back on the bedding material.

He couldn't help but feel disoriented by her, though he was beginning to feel more comfortable labeling all her limbs as both legs and arms rather than trying to use human terms. Supporting her head with his hand, he kissed the front of her face, right above the flat beak. His hand ruffled a sort of ridge or tuft of fur, normally hidden by her eye-limbs.

His privates were attached more tightly to hers than ever. Despite her tight grip around his base, all the movement during his climax had pulled in more skin, and every milimetre gained was insistently held by hundreds of pinpricks. Her body was done with its pulsating licking motion at his tip, but whatever she was going through mentally hadn't weakened. She moaned out passionate chirps and did what she could to hold his hips firmly against her. Her suction continued to pulsate, begging his body for more.

Holding his hips... he wondered if she obsessively pressed him down because she craved the pressure of his pelvis against her. Her sexual organs certainly seemed designed to extract pressure rather than movement. Navigating the apparent forest of limbs, he reached his hands down to the 'hips' pressed against his, and helped her press.

A hiccup in the rhythm of her sucking let him know she noticed. He explored the firm curve of her back with his hands as her various muscles tensed and relaxed. She shuddered, and he realized he had begun leaking fluids into her again; that enticing inner movement gently lapped it up. He found himself straining against his tight confinement anew as her suction teased him to a stiffer and stiffer state of excitement. As his arousal built anew, he wondered how long her orgasm would last, and how long he himself would.

The slow buildup was edged along this time by her movements; but even so there was just something about being squeezed so tight. It was almost like his body had to gather enough pressure to push past hers; and it took its sweet time, more so even than before. He was blind with pleasure, mind filled to the brim with hot anticipation, long before his actual release. When the moment came he toppled of a high cliff, lost in sensation.

He came to himself gasping as her body rapidly lapped up the last of his offered fluids. He found that during his momentary blind rut, they had flipped over and were on a different pile of her floor-bedding material.

Pressed on top of him, her body was as demanding as before. Sucking him in almost painfully, she again didn't let his flesh relax. As these inner demands pulsed, her arms gathered a bundle of the soft floor cloth around his hips; she seemed to be using it as leverage, squeezing the wad of cloth as a way of squeezing his hips against her own.

She did seem a bit more lucid. Though her movement was still shaky, she was mentally present enough that she began her nibbling again, around his neck and shoulders. He laughed, and rolled her over again, so that she carried her armful of bedding material above them, burying them both.

This won him a surprised squeak added amidst one of her purring moans. He gathered his own armful of material behind her, and hugged it, pressing her close to him, feeling the gasping working of her lungs within the 'waist' behind her head, feeling the (unrelated) vibrations of her moaning vocalizations, and the pounding heartbeat associated with each major body section. He playfully began nibbling her back as she nibbled him. But his mind was continually pulled back to the pressure she maintained on his cock.

The orgasm she slowly drew out of him was much gentler this time, as his body began to be limited in its resources. She groaned and purred her delight as her body drank in his seed, but her orifice was left pulsing with a desire for more.

Beyond this point he began to lose track of events. Her orgasm was endless; she drifted between the more tender, interactive semi-lucidity and the deeper, needful shivers and spasms. Each inevitable movement of his incrementally pulled in more skin until his penetration could be no fraction of a millimeter deeper, tighter. No matter how close he came to sexual exhaustion, she was able to physically hold him erect, and extract more spasms of delight from him.

After endless hours, endless minutes, endless seconds, he found the lateness of the hour making the same demand as his physical exhaustion; but even drifting off to sleep didn't stop her. He found himself waking up just as he reached climax, then drifting off again amidst her warmth and her alien scent. These orgasms were exhausted and small by comparison, yet it seemed like his body was finding some sort of hidden reserve; after having only minimal ejaculations several times, he found himself once again feeling a rush of seed that her body happily gathered.

He couldn't be sure if he was dreamed it, but looking back at things he seemed to remember one final ejaculation she couldn't lap up or suck down. It made sense anyway; either her muscles, or her storage capacity, must eventually get exhausted. In any case he woke up in the morning when she stirred. He gave her one more nibble on her ear, but wasn't really sure of her reaction. They both stiffly got up and they both rushed off to their daily activities.

Getting dressed, he laughed at the tender state of his equipment; thousands of pinpricked red dots all over his shaft, and a sore red spot where she had gripped him tightest, on either side of the base.

Later that day he heard the news; the Wolszczan-made video was apparently part of some mating ritual. Wolszczans had made it so they could circumvent the usual bit of storytelling foreplay with a pre-recorded version.