Page 9 of My Big Alien Bodyguard

Zayne

I am in trouble. She is in trouble. We are both in serious trouble. I can feel the attraction between us. I am drawn to her. I’d say it is because it is my job to care, but it is far more than that. When I acted in her defense and took the blow that was little to me, but potentially lethal to her, I felt a surge of affection for her. I felt protective not merely because I had to be, but because I deeply wanted, and perhaps even needed to be.

She’s mine.

She’s on her knees in front of me, hurting in more way than one, but her eyes are gleaming with need for me, and I can scent her desire quite clearly between us. Pheromones are lifting off that delicate skin of hers in their millions and making their way into the air to waft about my face and senses like a sexual soup.

I have one rule, and one rule only in this line of work: don’t sleep with the client.

It’s a simple enough rule, and one I have never had any problems following until now. But this woman is wicked and brave and bold, and also sweet, and alluring, sensitive, and perhaps even submissive. She seems to enjoy her place between my thighs. She is practically curled up between them like a kitten who insists it belongs there.

“Are you hungry?” I ask the question gently, tipping her head back. I could have asked her to lift her head or guided it up with a finger. Instead, I wrap my hand in the dark hair at the back of her head and use that firm and sturdy grip to tilt her head back, exposing her throat and holding her in place.

Like any kitten, she briefly squirms and then settles softly into place as I begin to dab the cooling, soothing, antiseptic cream on the burn she gave herself.

“Not for food,” she says, implying other appetites.

“I’d say you’re more than hungry,” I purr. “I’d say you’re ravenous. Perhaps even starving.”

With that, I use my grip to shift her slightly so she is no longer between my legs, but instead my shin is now positioned between her thighs. When I pull her up and forward, I raise her up enough that the apex of her legs, that sensitive human crotch, becomes the fulcrum where the weight of her upper body is dispersed. She is sitting on my knee, you might say. Or you might say that her sex is grinding against my upper thigh with every motion she makes.

The blush on her cheeks becomes very pronounced, and she braces herself on my leg, her two hands placed on my upper thigh like a balance beam as she attempts to perhaps either get just the right spot, or steady herself.

“Oh my…” She whispers the words.

We are not technically doing anything wrong. We are technically not doing anything explicit. And yet my naughty human kitten is now very much grinding her pussy on my leg, and getting no small amount of pleasure from it, judging by the way her chest and cheeks flush.

I put one hand behind her ass and help her move, gripping the curve of one cheek and guiding her back and forth.

“Oh my god…” She shuts her eyes as if looking at me is too much, or maybe to focus on the sensations happening inside.

I could fuck her.

I could strip her down and spread her legs and I could give her body what it really craves, not this helpless rutting, but a good deep pounding. I could penetrate her, make her inner flesh spread for me, and grip me.

I am not supposed to. My contract is clear. No carnal contact with the ones I protect. But this woman has made herself almost irresistible, and with one illicit motion, I free my cock from my pants, sliding the fly down to allow the monster to emerge.

Her eyes widen as she gazes on the blue and white scaled erection suddenly and perhaps even menacingly close to her slick pussy. She is a matter of inches away from this tool designed to penetrate and fill a hole just like the one she has been grinding on me. This is where we discover if she is truly ready to be taken, or if she is a spoiled little human playing at sex with her big alien bodyguard.

Lyric

His cock is huge. Outlandishly large. Intimidatingly so. It is also scaled, not with harsh or sharp plates, but with firm and ridged scales. When I wrap my hand around him, I feel him throb against me. My thumb and middle finger just barely make contact around his green and gold shaft.

“Wow,” I breathe. “You’re huge. There’s no way.”

“There’s always a way,” he says, his agile tongue working around all the tenderest and most sensitive spots around my ear and neck.

“How do you know? Have you been with a human woman before?”

“Sex,” he growls softly. “Finds a way.”

“Mmmm… so how do you know what feels so good?”

“It’s where I can scent you the most,” he growls softly. “Besides between your legs, of course.”

I blush. I don’t think he is overly familiar with humans. There is a carefulness to the way he touches me, lightly at first, and then more firmly. He is so watchful and so gentle, but there is also a definite lust in his touch. He wants me as much as I want him, and he is as physically curious about me as I am about him.

HIs hands caress me, and then I feel something between my legs. Something scaled and agile, something with a thick tip. It is his tail, moving up the length of my thigh, inexorably seeking the soft spot where my desire has been leaking for some time.

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