Page 25 of The Alien I Fell in Love with on Walpurgis Night

Axl shows me the bracelets and I take the smaller one from his grey palm. It’s silver and black and has both of our names on it with other little icons. “What do these symbols mean?”

Using his bracelet as an example, he shows me what each symbol means. “This one means children, this one means health, this one means sex.”

“Wait, what? Sex? If we’ve had sex recently? That’s going to show up there for everyone to see?”

“Yes.”

“But, I’ve never had sex with you.”

“Shhh…” he quiets me. “Of course we have.” Then he takes me into the bathroom and turns on the shower and says in my ear, “No one is going to look closely and it could very well be we are waiting until we get back to the Empire.”

“I don’t want to be on a sex show. I don’t want a video of me having sex to be put on a porn site. I’m not playing anymore if this is part of the game.”

“Georgiana, this is not a game.”

“I’m not making a sex tape.”

“I’m not asking you to. I told you I wouldn’t have sex with you under a false pretense. As long as you insist this is a game then it’s a lie. And as I told you before the evening meal, if anyone were to have a video of us together or you alone, I swear to you, I would kill them.”

It’s irrational, but him saying he wouldn’t have sex with me under false pretenses makes me disappointed. I feel my nipples tighten under the loose dress thinking about him touching me. Remembering how his mouth sucked at my breasts while we were in the shower just a few hours ago.

As if reading my thoughts, he runs a finger over my bottom lip and I open my mouth for him.

“That’s not to say, I’ll leave you unsatisfied. I am an attentive husband, even if that status is only temporary.” Then he replaces his finger with his lips and tongue. I embrace him and revel in the feel of his body against mine. The way he makes me feel when I’m with him is mind-blowing. Is it because he’s dressed up like an alien and I can completely let myself go?

Axl begins kissing me down my neck and caressing my breasts through the silky fabric of the dress. The extra layer between his fingers and skin brings an unexpected longing for him to put his hands and mouth under my dress. As if reading my mind his mouth finds a nipple over my dress and sucks hard. I can hardly breathe from the pleasure of it. Then the other nipple. By the time he gets on his knees and is kissing my ankles, I look at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my lips plumb, and my nipples hard through the soaked fabric. I look like a sex goddess from a glossy magazine. And even more so when Axl kisses the inside of my thigh, I gasp and put my head back from the exquisite bliss of his touch.

“Are you watching yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Watch me on my knees. My head moving up and down over you, sucking all the essence from your sweet core until you say my name.”

“You want me to say your name?”

“Yes.”

“As payment?”

“As a compliment,” he says and then begins kissing my inner thigh.

I lean back against the stone wall as his hot tongue licks the length of my labia. I want to guide him with my hands but at the same time I don’t want to change anything about what he’s doing because it feels so perfect. I put my fingers in my mouth and the other hand against the wall behind me.

“Are you watching?”

I forgot. I open my eyes and look at myself. I feel like a sexual goddess being pleasured by a god. And I think I look like it too.

“Describe it what you see.”

“A god-like man is moving under my dress, up and down, bringing me so much pleasure I can hardly speak while I wantonly lean against the stone wall, my legs open for him, my nipples wet through my dress. Every part of my body is begging this god to continue, but he’s stopped and I don’t know why.”

Axl runs a finger from the top of my vulva down to my needy entrance and circles it. I jump from the sensation. No man has ever touched me there.

He doesn’t stop circling the entrance to my core with his finger, so I add, “I see a woman ready for sex with a man. No, an alien.”

Axl doesn’t reply with words, but with his hungry mouth and skilled fingers. His finger massaging my clitoris forces me to close my eyes again to appreciate all this pleasure. I hold my breath and my body tenses waiting for the anticipated release of satisfaction he is going to produce from me. He keeps me in this breath-taking erotic plateau for so long I’m able to open my eyes, again, and see myself, my desire as I see his hand moving quickly under the fabric of my dress and it’s so erotic watching him touch me and so right I close my eyes and orgasm hard with the image of it. Of him on his knees pleasing me. He holds me and doesn’t stop until all the waves of passion have subsided.

I’ve never felt more cared for in my entire life. Perhaps it doesn’t matter if we don’t know each other.

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