Page 121 of Homebound
She wiggled, getting free of his hold, and he let her go. Without another word, she slid off his lap and pressed her face to his crotch. His breath caught and she heard him say something guttural, probably a curse. She licked him right on the skin that protected the resurging port of his member. The smell of him was stronger in this point, musky, alluring, and to her human side, strange. There was no comparison to it on Earth. He was all Rix there.
Rubbing him gently with her fingers, she said, “You can release now,” her eager mouth hovering right over, knowing he’d oblige. He’d be powerless not to.
Did he ever. The length of him filled her mouth, and she grasped the base as it emerged, holding him tight. Yeah, he was too full, she’d known that already. And shaped different, which she had not. Generally speaking, his shaft resembled that of a human male, only sharper, an arrow more than a mushroom. And like his body, it was solidly molded, one impressive piece of work with three horizontal slits decorating the top, already leaking light-blue of his semen.
She drew him into her mouth, making him gasp and his hips buck. His secretions hit her tongue, astringent and flavorsome. She sucked harder and felt him expand, as if he tried to hold off filling out all the way, and lost. A web of firm bluish veins popped all over his shaft, ribbing its entire surface, and Gemma let her tongue follow each one in detailed exploration. The veins made his member ridged, prominently so, and her core responded with a clench remembering the feel of all this rich texture rubbing against her inner walls.
She licked and sucked him, and fondled the funny skin that, too, filled out with his arousal, forming a pliant cushion around the base, decorated with short soft spikes, akin oversized bumps. Weird as fuck, but when rubbed against, they felt freakishly stimulating.
And that was what Gemma did, rubbed and kissed and licked every inch of him, and then she did it all over again, inhaling his smell, tasting his essence, and drowning in the absolute, all-consuming pleasure that the intimacy with no other creature in the Universe could bring her.
He finally dragged her up and took her to bed, flipping her on her back, legs spread. No words passed between them. They exchanged no sweet kisses. He pushed in, and he fucked her, his otherworldly eyes locked on her face, capturing every blush, every expression of ecstasy that contorted her features. She wanted to scream his name when she came, but she had no voice, and she forgot his name. She forgot her own, and the world ceased to exist for a brief intense moment when she bucked under him, convulsing, the pleasure rocketing through her, lighting up every nerve ending she possessed, obliterating higher reasoning and civilized behavior, and leaving behind only raw, unadulterated lust.
???
They hadn’t accomplished much that day. Instead, Simon chose to do some reconnaissance nearer to the docks. Hat pulled low to hide his oversized eyes, he and Gemma walked the streets around the junkyard. It was surreal to see familiar places while walking by his side. The high walls of the prison rising at a close distance gave Gemma the feeling of being watched despite sporting no windows.
“Aren’t you afraid of this place?” She shivered as she asked.
“The prison? No.”
“Not even the tiniest bit?”
“No. It’s just a place.”
She could see he didn’t quite get why she asked.
“You were locked up there, starved, and near killed by inmates. Makes for a lot of bad memories.”
“I don’t think about it.”
She chuckled. “Good for you. I think I have enough of the bad memories for both of us.”
With the ever-increasing number of migrants in the City, the junkyard was no longer the desolated area it had once been. People encroached, seeking shelter and something, anything they could scavenge and sell. It had become a challenge to get around during the day without being seen.
Simon was worried that Butan would be discovered for the gem it was.
“It looks painfully derelict from the outside,” Gemma assured him. “No one in their right mind would give it a second look.”
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“Time,” Gemma mused, “has become our enemy. We better hurry.”
“Yes and no. You can’t rush the preparations,” he cautioned. “The ship has to be ready. It’s not ready yet.”
“What’s there left to do?”
Simon enumerated tasks yet to be done, and Gemma deflated. How could the two of them prepare and launch a spaceship? It was crazy. Their plan was just a dream, a beautiful, shimmering fantasy created by two desperate and lonely people. Hope for a better future, never to be realized.
With a great effort, Gemma steered her thoughts away from the gloomy path. She had to believe Simon knew what he was doing even when she had no clue. She had to trust him, her Rix male who wasn’t prone to empty fantasies. He never dreamed. Human fancies, that’s what he called them. No, Simon operated strictly in doables.
He’d procured and already modified the main navigation system - the apparatus Gemma had seen him tinker with on her first day at the hideout - to replace Butan’s old one that missed parts. It had yet to be installed and tested for interfacing with the ship’s native infrastructure, but Simon wasn’t too worried about that.
Other items on their to-do list were a bit more monumental. For instance, Butan needed fuel to generate enough upward thrust to break out of Earth’s gravitational pull.
Gemma frowned. “I thought that the magic crystal powder was there for it.”
“That’s to propel us when we’re in space. To lift the craft off in this planet’s conditions, we need liquid nitrogen.”
