Page 5 of Caveman Alien's Bride

“Dehar envan sklyklodah,”he says with his bassy voice that makes my chest tremble.

I let him touch me without pulling away. “I don’t know what you said, but I’m sure you’re right.”

He places his cool palm on my cheek. “Dooh kankah blimah.”

I always had a spontaneous streak, and it mostly got me into trouble. Now it’s gotten me to put my hand on his and lean into it. “I wish I understood.”

He puts his other hand lightly on my hip.

This is the time I have to pull away. But there’s a clumsiness in his moves that I find immensely endearing. Even a huge super-caveman like this isn’t the master of everything.

Instead of disengaging, I put my hand on his forearm. It’s like touching a steel bridge cable encased in satin. It flexes with each little move.

I squeeze it, suddenly feeling as if I'm grabbing a lifeline. He's the only part of this planet that has been friendly to me, and I want to hang onto that for dear life. Because that may be what's at stake.

His scent is spicy and dry, fresh and incredibly exotic. There’s no perfume in it — it’s all natural. And like everything else about him, it’s extremely male.

His hand on my cheek slides backwards to my ear and the hair. His touch is surprisingly soft and gentle.

“You’re a gentle giant, then,” I purr to fill the silence. “I always had a weakness for those. Actually, that’s not true. But I’m developing that weakness really fast right now.”

“Skonn erikah etor,”he says, and I swear there’s a little chuckle in there.

“I like your voice,” I tell him. “It feels good in my ears.”

His other hand slides down and back, going towards my butt.

“Yeah, okay. Of course you want to explorethatpart.” Now I really have to disengage, if I don’t want this to escalate.

But what if I want that? What if I still want to see where this is going? What if I don’t want him to leave and fling me right back into the constant fear that’s ruled me since day one on this planet?

Right now, that fear is gone, replaced by excitement. No way am I going to do anything to change that.

His giant hand slowly glides down until he’s cupping my butt. He growls, deep in his throat.

The vibrations echo through me and gather at my center, adding to the heat.

“Well,” I coo, “if you can, I can.” I place one hand flat on his washboard stomach, marveling at the smoothness and the warmth. The stripes have a different feel, like fine suede. I slide my fingers up and down his front, enjoying the soft hardness of his thick muscles. At his abdomen, two curved grooves dive into his kilt, and my fingers follow them until they bump up against the leather.

He growls again, and before I can react, his fingers undo his belt, and both it and the kilt fall to the ground.

I gasp and try to step back, but his hand shoots out and holds me in place.

“That’s… interesting,” I manage.

His cock stands up between us like a third presence. It’s long and thick and swirly with green stripes. That’s alien enough. But it also has all kinds of ridges and bulbs and little spirals and knobbly parts that all make it look really scary.

And alluring. It keeps twitching, and it makes me think, ‘it’s big, but it doesn’t look impossible’.

The caveman gives me a look I interpret as a little smirk. “Yah shoner atdooh leekerden.”

I swallow in a dry throat. He’s even more special than I thought, and I can’t deny the tingles that are shooting through my pelvis with greater and greater strength.

Well, he showed me his. It’s only fair if I show him mine.

My leafy grass skirt has a simple rope drawstring that I undo, and the whole travesty falls straight down with a ridiculous rustling sound. Only my old panties are left, but there are so many holes in them that I’m not sure they count as a garment anymore.

The coolness of the jungle air on my most sensitive parts kind of wakes me up. Stripping for an alien caveman who’s already clearly turned on may not be the smartest thing to do.

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