March Lewd - M Karnakian F Smol

Hey everyone! So I know we're doing a bit of a departure for what we usually do for lewds, but like.... ok, just hear me out a moment.

So for those of you who don't know, every month or so we go out and capture a porn goblin. Sometimes by net, sometimes by breaking their legs - but yanno. They wake up in the dildo mines after trying to cross the border, and they serve their time mining for lewds.

Every so often, we get a shiny porn goblin. Like a normal porn goblin but like... they enjoy being whipped? It's weird.

Point is, what the team crafted this month is incredible. It took days of work and revision, and all in all it's almost 8K words of really comfy smut. 

It's love in the time of quarantine, which we all feel, and because of that - and to help everyone pass the time, we're not paywalling this one. The others will be, but this one is our gift to you and everyone else who enjoys the series and supports the team. 

Thank you all. <3 Please enjoy:

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Kat grumbled quietly into her cup of still-too-hot coffee, staring at her reflection in the black screen on the far side of her living room. She could see her normally wavy red hair was a messy tangle, there were still dark circles under her green eyes, and the intense frown definitely wasn’t improving her overall “look.” Not that her appearance really mattered right now, she wasn’t going out anytime in the near future. She took another tentative sip of the bitter but necessary drink warming her hands before letting out a soft sigh. She didn’t really need the caffeine, not like there was anything for her to do but sit or sleep or . . . well that was really all that she could do right now. She’d read every book worth reading in her e-reader, net bandwidth was reserved for emergency responders, and her room-mate Tra’Cha was busy with a virtual reality game of his.

It all started with an “incident” two weeks ago. Someone had apparently shipped in some type of alien fruit without properly clearing it through customs, and inadvertently introduced a new type of mold to the station. Normally that would be a punitive fine, a stern lecture, and a frustrating amount of deep cleaning to get the affected areas up and running again, but this was no ordinary mold. No, apparently this type of mold had pathogen like properties and a penchant for mind control.

Brain fungus. The station was undergoing an outbreak of brain fungus. Which, on the label was admittedly pretty bad, but in practice it just subtly modified the behavior of the infected so they’d be more likely to spread it around. Brain fungus was, of course, never a good thing, but apparently it would take weeks to become permanent and treatment was just a thirty minute procedure. 

The thought coaxed an amused snort from her. Living on an alien space station had made her pretty jaded, apparently. “Brain fungus outbreak and I’m more bothered by the lack of net access than anything else.” Kat let her head loll to the left, cheek resting on the fluffy pink collar of her bathrobe.

Of course they’d issued a quarantine. Fungal infections were always the trickiest to treat, and excising a parasitic infestation of the brain was . . . an added challenge, but the technology was there, the treatments were available, and so far the only person to have been seriously harmed by it was the Jornissian that had brought in the brain-mold-fruit. That had been due to a misunderstanding involving a very loaded stun launcher and two extremely frustrated customs officers.

Like half a dozen people get just a hint of mind altering parasite, and she was stuck sipping expired instant-coffee and smelling Karnakian B.O. for two weeks while they tested everyone on the station. Both of their tests had already come back clean, so she couldn’t even distract herself with panic and paranoia.

“Kathrine, this game is extremely difficult.”

She cast a bored, sidelong glance at her room-mate, Tra'Cha. The blue and white Karnakian’s was head flicking back and forth, talons wrapped in motion tracking gear as they twitched commands invisibly to the practically ancient VR system he was hooked into. She smiled a little, his coloration always reminded her of a blue jay, all the way down to the little crest of midnight black feathers poking out of the back of his VR helmet. 

He was playing an old Karnakian game that was apparently quite popular, and practically a cultural staple back in the day. The player was a small prey animal from Karnak, and had to rely on their expanded EM range sight to evade the “hunter,” which was just a virtual Karnakian. She had tried watching him play to keep herself entertained, but the erratic motion and weird colors had come close to giving her motion sickness. She’d just been sipping her drink, staring at the black screen, and watching him come close to jumping into a wall for about 10 minutes now. She could totally understand why it stayed a retro game. If it could make a 3 meter tall murder-bird on outdated virtual reality this twitchy, she could understand why it didn’t need an even more realistic upgrade.

Tra'Cha let out another startled chirrup, talons capable of disemboweling a semi-truck flailing weakly in the air as he stumbled backward over the ottoman in the middle of the living room. Still trying to pull away from whatever virtual enemy was assailing him, he took him a few clumsy and panicked swipes at his headset before he managed to awkwardly pry the hybrid-sense mask off with his thumb-talon. He blinked both pair of his bright orange eyes at her, the diamond shaped pupils contracting sharply as they reacted to the sudden influx of light. “I do not enjoy the part where I get caught. It is unsettling, and I believe if I were younger it would be nightmare inducing.”

He flopped around a bit while trying to get his feet under him, still clearly disoriented from his loss, causing Kat to lift her legs to avoid his spasms. As she tucked her feet up onto the couch her robe crumpled up to her waist, and a fairly sharp draft reminded her that she hadn’t actually put anything on under her fuzzy pink robe when she had gotten up that morning. Tra'Cha suddenly stopped flailing and froze in place, staring at her sidelong with 2 of his 4 eyes. The black plume of his feathered crest fanned out slowly while his pupils shrunk to tiny points. Kat cocked her head to the side quizzically, several seconds ticking by before she figured out just why Tra'Cha was staring.

Her eyes went wide with realization, and they both sprang into frantic motion and stammered apology.

Kat leapt to her feet, nearly spilling coffee all over herself in an attempt to cover the space between her legs with fluffy pink cotton, stammering a shocked “S-sorry! Wardrobe malfunction . . .” as Tra'Cha rolled fluidly to his powerful hind legs and scrambled into the kitchen, as if running away would somehow save him from the faux-pas. 

“I did not just stare directly at your reproductive slit!” He called from the kitchen, the sound of clattering pots and pans suddenly filling the air as he overshot his escape vector.

Awkward silence hung in small apartment for several long, drawn out seconds, only to be broken by Kat breaking into a badly stifled giggling-snort. “Did . . . did you just call . . .” She set the mug down, and covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh. My. God.” Her voice was muffled, but she couldn’t pack down the subsequent stream of nervous giggles. “That is the worst possible thing you could have said. I literally, and I do mean literally, cannot imagine something more awkward that that.” A tepid, almost frightened chirrup was her only response from the kitchen, and Kat suddenly felt an unusual pang of guilt. She took a few steps to enter the hallway, and caught sight of the numerous pans scattered across the floor, and Tra'Cha with his head firmly planted into the furthest corner. 

“I’m . . . sorry about flashing you.” She cringed as she said it. She thought quarantine couldn’t get any worse, and she was wrong. “To be fair though, you go around without pants all the time and that’s totally fine, you know?” The joke was a lame one, and she knew it, but something had to be done to ease off the awkward tension. 

She stepped into the kitchen, trying to circle around to Tra'Cha’s side, but he pivoted quickly, keeping his back to her. His tail feathers fanned out, making a shield between him and her in a bizarrely disarming display of “If I Can’t See You, You Can’t See Me” childish logic. 

Kat cleared her throat, grimacing as she spoke. “Besides . . . you’ve seen way worse from me. Remember that night I had 8 jello shots, puked all over the living room, ruined the practically new furniture, and was too hung over the next day to help you clean up? That was definitely worse, and you still managed to talk to me in the night after.” 

Tra'Cha let out a distressed double note, but glanced over his feather shield at her quickly before turning back to the corner. Kat pressed on, taking another step closer. “And, remember that time when I had just moved in? You stepped on my Roomba and broke it? I cried about it at least once a week for like two months. That was shitty, you know . . . but I got over it.” She moved to gently brush his tail feathers aside. “We’re friends, right? We won’t let this make things super weird, will we?” Before her fingers could touch him though, he shifted away awkwardly, still keeping his back to her as he found a different corner to bury his face in.

“I was not aware that you shaved.” Tra'Cha’s muffled speech reverberated out of the corner. Silence filled the small kitchen as color ran to Kat’s face.

“. . . was that a joke?” she felt herself floating on a wave of mixed relief and embarrassment, her freckles getting lost in an intensifying blush. On the one hand he was talking, on the other it was about her downstairs grooming. 

The Karnakian trilled in the affirmative. “Yes,” he stated tentatively, quickly adding “or at least my attempt at one.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

The blurted their apologies simultaneously, and the subsequent sighs were also in matched harmony.

“I’ll go put pants on, just to make this less weird . . .” Kat trailed off, turning away to head to her bedroom.

“N-no!” Tra'Cha chirped quickly, finally turning around to face his room-mate. “That is to say, you can. [Exclamatory-Does-Not-Translate]. I apologize, I am speaking inelegantly. I just mean to say that I’m sorry I reacted so badly. Your body is beautiful, and the last thing I should be doing is making you feel ashamed of it.” His crest was twitching intermittently, and his pinions were flaring slightly. Kat could tell he was clearly flustered, but she could spot him in a lie with practiced ease. The body language was just too easy to read, and she knew he meant every word of what he just said. “In the limited studies I’ve made of human culture, the taboo for humans to be seen without clothes is very intense. More so among those of the feminine persuasion. I assumed it would upset you for me to see you, or even worse, make you feel unsafe.” He prodded one of the pans on the floor with a large claw, deftly hooking it with a fore-talon and lifting it back onto the counter top as he spoke. He could not bring his eyes to meet hers.

Kat felt her pulse quicken as warmth spread through her chest. That was actually a rather sweet sentiment, if somewhat awkwardly put. “I . . . well. It’s . . .” She struggled to find the right words. “It’s alright. My fault really . . . you’re not wearing pants, and you seem pretty comfortable, so I decided I’d follow your lead!” Kat let out a forced, nervous laugh. “And . . . I mean, if it’s you . . . like I said. We’ve already been through a lot. What’s a little bit of accidental nudity between friends?” She swallowed hard as Tra'Cha finally locked eyes with her.

He nodded slowly. “I am glad that I did not irreparably damage our friendship.” His crest began to return to a more normal volume, relaxing as his pinions settled back into their usual position. “Perhaps I should go attempt to play ‘Prey’ again. This time, I am sure I will evade the hunter for a longer duration.”

Tra'Cha stepped forward, staring at her, and it took Kat a few moments to realize that she was still blocking the hallways. “O-oh, sure. Yeah. I think I left my coffee in there anyway.” She quickly shuffled back into the living room, and took a seat on the sofa. The awkwardness was temporarily banished by wonder as she watched Tra'Cha reattach the VR gear. The flexibility is what baffled her, how such a large and robust creature could get it’s limbs to bend and stretch so far was a mixture of weird and really cool in her eyes.

She went back to sipping her coffee, which had actually cooled to nearly the perfect temperature, and watching Tra'Cha start up the game again. Not that she really needed the wake-up anymore, she just didn’t want a perfectly mediocre cup of coffee to go to waste. 

“I have a question, Kathrine.” Tra'Cha stated, quietly, head still locked inside the VR helmet. He was crouched low, triangular head flicking back and forth as he anticipated an attack from above.

“Shoot, not like I have anything else going on. What do you want to know?” She exhaled through her nose as she took another sip of her dark roast. It felt good to get back to relaxed, normal, casual conversation,

“Do you shave because failing to do so would interfere with the use of your personal massager? The keratin structure of your species hair can hold a static charge if properly agitated, so it seemed a reasonable possibility.” Tra'Cha said it like it was the most normal, casual question in the world. Which it was not. Not at all.
 

Kat’s cheeks bulged, and she nearly did a spit take across her room-mates back. She swallowed, manging to half cough, half shout, “FUCKING WHAT!?”
 

Tra'Cha quickly pulled the helmet off, looking over his shoulder at her. “I mean with the electric ones you have, not the silicone ones. Of course those wouldn’t have any problems, but if a voltage discharge were applied to the control circuit of-”
 

“HAVE YOU BEEN GOING THROUGH MY THINGS!?” Kat stood, angrily bearing down on the Karnakian, “I mean I get that I’m not perfect about doing the dishes and that I sometimes need a couple days to get my share of the rent together but that doesn’t give you the right to just rummage through my things when I’m out, especially- ESPECIALLY NOT THAT DRAWER.” The mixture of shame and embarrassment had turned her face almost the color of her hair, and the volume of her voice was actually enough to cow the 3 meter tall alien sitting in front of her.

“N-no, no of course not!” Tra'Cha quickly turned to face her, dipping his head below her eyeline and flaring his pinions in a display of submission. It was hard for him because she was, at most, only half his height, and because she seemed like she was torn between pouring the coffee on him and smashing the mug on his head. “I can tell whenever you self stimulate to climax because of the change in your aura. You shine very brightly, sometimes bright enough to wake me up if you wait for more than a few days. I can tell your electric toys from the mechanical ones because they shine in the lower EM spectrum.” His response was clearly panicked, and filled with the high pitcher chirp and whistle of a juvenile Karnakian trying to avoid the ire of an elder.

All of the color drained out of Kat. That was it. This was the worst thing ever. Every single guilty solo session she’d had late at night, every time she’d rubbed one out when she was bored, or when work was stressing her out, he had seen. He’d seen all of them. All of it. Maybe brain fungus wasn’t so bad? Maybe she could catch some brain fungus and have them cut out the memory of the past 4 years.

Setting the coffee cup aside, she flopped down onto the couch, body on autopilot. “Is it possible to die of embarrassment? I’m more worried about that than the brain fungus right now.” She muttered with a mixture of defeat and humiliation, burying her face in her hands.

Tra'Cha’s head crest flared with concern, the Stygian feathers flicking into the air with the faintest glimmer to them. “Die? No. I’m sorry, I’ve upset you again, haven’t I?” The Karnakian dipped his head even lower, continuing the submissive display as he rested his chin on the couch next to Kat, his four eyes looking up at her with alien intent, but she knew it was apologetic concern.

She sighed heavily. “So . . . I guess, one, sorry about the persistent, multi-spectrum exhibitionism. Two, why didn’t you say anything?”

The Karnakian flicked the long pinions on his forearms out in the equivalent of a shrug. “Because I thought you knew. I assumed that you understood Karnakian physiology and our ability to see beyond what other races do.”

Kat fixed him with a glare. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got? You just figured I knew you were watching me masturbate and was cool with it?” Her withering gaze and angry scowl was enough to drive the alien backward a half step. 

“Well . . .” He trailed off uncharacteristically. She could see the conflict in him. The twitching talons, the way his tail-feathers were adjusting and readjusting themselves. “Well it was . . . it is . . . I apologize, I do not have the right words to describe it alone. Like a sunset mixed with a lightning bolt over a stormy sea . . . you make a color I don’t have a word for. No, color isn’t even the right word for it, but I was afraid if I told you . . . you’d stop. Forgive me, but to end something so beautiful, that seemed the greater sin by far.”

Seconds of silence turned to minutes of silence, and Tra'Cha held in place, as if trapped by uncertainty and fear of his own impropriety, voyeurism, and inappropriate acts.

Which, by all accounts, were absolutely unacceptable, Kat mused to herself. She had never considered herself a shamefast woman, or even terribly inhibited, but color still rose to his cheeks as she mulled over his words. She was angry, yes. Angry about the violation of her privacy. It was like finding out retroactively that she’d been going around naked for the past 4 years without anyone telling her. 

She continued to process things silently, making Tra'Cha visibly squirm. And, the longer she thought, the more she realized that she wasn’t sure if she was angry about it. It had been going on so long, and his intentions seemed almost childishly pure. She’d never heard “it” described so . . . delicately. So innocently. So . . . well, so beautifully. For all of Tra'Cha’s overly formal speaking pattern, all of his insistence on keeping the shared spaces spotless, he was truly a sensitive and kind soul. She thought about the way he had insisted she stay home as soon as the quarantined was called, instead of letting her run to the corner shop for a case of “quarantine brews.” She smiled internally as thought about the time she had told off the landlord in the lobby of their complex for throttling the net access. Tra'Cha was too afraid to make a scene, so the responsibility fell on her to stand up for them. Kat thought back to the promotion she turned down because “the office culture seemed toxic.” Really it was because she didn’t want to move, she knew that much, but she had never considered how important Tra'Cha was to her feeling at home. 

As the anger bled from her, she guiltily remembered the pilgrimage to Karnak that Tra'Cha had put off just because she’d come down with a bit of a stomach bug the week before departure. They mattered a lot to one another. More than she’d really considered until now.

She exhaled slowly, her expression softening. “Tra'Cha, I’m your friend, right?”

The Karnakian, in a display of human body language that was unusual for him, nodded rapidly. “Yes, the best I have.”

She could only smile meekly. It was almost cute when he did that. “We’re . . . kinda more than friends though, aren’t we? We act more like an old married couple than room-mates most of the time.” She chuckled quietly, the mental image of them yelling at kids to stay off their lawn running through her head.

His nodding slowed, but didn’t stop. “I did not want to live in a shared domicile before I moved in with you. And, though I count your friendship as one of my most prized possessions, I do not think I will ever share a domicile again.”

Her heart fluttered a bit, and a shade of pink rose to her cheeks. “You’re weird.”

“You’re the one who flashed their room-mate,” Tra'Cha shot back, but his flared tail feathers indicated it the jab was meant to have no real sting. Kat put on an expression of mock indignity as the weight of the exchange began to lift. 

She crossed her arms, pouting. “Oh, now that’s just petty. Besides, pretty sure you were staring. Weirdo.” She tried to scowl, but couldn’t keep a half grin from forming on her face.

Strutting a bit closer, Tra'Cha began to relax, and as his ruffled feathers dropped back into place. His head lifted up out of the submission display as he continued his playful banter. “The exhibitionist calling the one she flashed a weirdo? I’m fairly certain your picture is in the dictionary, right next to the word irony-” 

That made her laugh. A real, warm, full body laugh. It was a terrible joke, but it was just so completely Tra'Cha. Dry wit, teasing but not hurtful, she couldn’t help but laugh at it. At him.

He dropped down onto the couch, his head hovering off of the cushions as he stretched out across most of the furniture. “-and hypocrite. But yes, I will admit, I was staring. It’s not something I’ve seen before.” He paused for a half breath, only to quickly add, “Curiosity is a powerful and noble motivation across all sentient species!”

Kat rolled her eyes with snort, but the corners of her mouth were creeping upward into a smile. “Sure. Curiosity. Right. Noble motivation across all species.” She felt relaxed. Easy. Comfortable again. She wasn’t . . . nervous. It didn’t feel taboo to talk like this with him, like it would another guy. Another human.

“Sentient species.” He quickly corrected her.

“Oh, okay, sure.” She gave an exasperated huff, but it was just overacting for effect. “Then from one sentient to another, indulging in our most noble of motivations, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Laughter bubbled up through her chest as she flicked him on the nose teasingly. 

“Alright,” he said, tone the same acerbic deadpan as always.

She laughed harder for a moment, but as Kat met his unblinking gaze she was forced to give pause. Confusion slowly furrowed her brow and her expression went from mirthful to slightly incredulous. “Are . . . are you serious?” There was a strange feeling in her chest. It wasn’t like the gut wrenching cringe of earlier, or even the jittery nerves of having someone else talk about her intimate dealings. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost say it was excitement.

Tra'Cha exhaled through his nose, rising from the couch to pace to the far side of the room. “Well, I don’t mind, I’ve already seen yours, and there really isn’t much else for either of us to do until the quarantine lifts anyway.”

It all seemed so logical, so rational, so reasonable when he put it that way. Like it was a perfectly normal thing to do in a lock-down situation. Kat was 99.9% sure it wasn’t but maybe special circumstances called for special measures. “I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this while stone cold sober, but- fuck it. Sure.” She shrugged, impish grin spreading across her face. “Whip it out, dude. I’ve never actually seen a ‘little Karnakian’ before, even on the net.” She laughed again, but it was hollow laughter. Her heart was pounding, and she found herself leaning forward unconsciously. This wasn’t actually happening, was it? 

Tra'Cha very gingerly, and very slowly draped himself across the ottoman, rolling onto his side to expose the white down of his underbelly to her. He shifted one of his thick, powerful, taloned hindlimbs into the air slightly, foot hanging weirdly in the air. 

“Now don’t take this the wrong way, but, I’m having a bit of trouble finding-” the joke died in her throat as she spotted the faint black slit in his feathers. It was lower on him than she expected, and well hidden by down. Her eyes were locked on the rapidly growing shape swelling outward in steady pulses, synchronized to the beat of his heart. “-wasn’t expecting purple,” Kat murmured, more to herself than anyone else as she scooted forward on the sofa, leaning in a bit closer to watch the . . . thing . . . grow out of Tra'Cha. It was a broader than she expected, at least two or maybe even three inches wide, and pointy too. It came up to an almost graceful tip, gentle arcing curves defining the shape of his glans, with a little hole nested in at the peak of the flesh-lance. She had almost expected it to be leathery or rough like the rest of the fleshy places on him, but it looked smooth. Between the glossy surface and the pastel purple hue, it almost looked like it was polished amethyst. There were little ridges on it too, every few centimeters all the way down the base. They were only maybe a quarter of a centimeter high, but they led her mind to a sordid place almost immediately. She wondered what something like that would feel like inside, a ribbed toy, and before she realized it she had shifted closer to get a better look. Knees on the floor, and bent over the ottoman, Tra'Cha twitched visibly as her warm breath lightly caressed the side of his member. Enraptured by discovery, Kat was unaware of the effect she was having on him, far to caught up in her inspection. She bit her lip, realizing that the ridges were asymmetric. Taller on the underside, it was like he had a little nubbed spine that would line up perfectly with her-

She quickly killed that train of thought, shaking her head sharply. She wanted to look away, but she also wanted to move closer. She was pretty sure she wanted to touch it. She wanted to . . . 

Her internal conflict was abruptly derailed by a single, overriding conclusion. “Well, we’re definitely not bored anymore.”

Eyes transfixed on the prime example of a Karnakian malehood, all she could do was watch as inch after inch of the shaft slowly eased out of him. “Where do you even fit all that . . . there’s got to be at least 12 inches of it here!” She half murmured, half exclaimed. “I swear, I just . . .”

“You can touch it, if you’d like.” He seemed just as tentative as she did about the entire thing. His head was turned away, but his crest was standing straight up. 

Kat smiled softly, but suppressed a snicker. He was definitely enjoying himself too, and that filled her with relief. He was okay with this. She was okay with this. This was actually pretty fun, and it was interesting for both of them. Weird as hell, and she’d never speak of this to anyone, but she was definitely glad to be doing it. 

She chewed her lip for a moment, and nodded. In for a penny, in for a pound, after all. Reaching out, she gently wrapped her hand around his member, a quiet gasp slipping from her. Partially because she could only barely touch her thumb and middle finger around it’s girth, but also because of how heavy it felt. “It’s like a friggin’ club . . . You could smash out a window with this thing!”

Tra'Cha chest heaved as a warble of amusement rose from his throat, and he started taking deeper breaths than before. “I will take that as a compliment.” Kat felt her fingers and palm begin to tingle, and a small, thin bead of clear fluid appeared at his tip. She gave his tool a few tentative squeezes, testing the heat and hardness of it, which she could only describe as just right for-

She pulled away. “Sorry. Getting a little too into it, yeah? That didn’t hurt, did it?” She asked quickly. Perhaps too quickly. Her face was beet red, but she was grinning ear to ear. Heart pounding, blood rushing, and that excitement that comes from doing something you’re not supposed to was coursing through her. She felt like a nervous, giddy schoolgirl again, and she wouldn’t trade that feeling for the world.

“No. You were very gentle.” Tra'Cha’s voice had an unusual trill to it, one she’d never heard before. It was like a cross between a purr and chirp, but even to her ears she could tell it was rather happy sound. “Do you . . .” He trailed off, clearly filled with just as much trepidation as she was.

Kat bit her lip, and nodded. Clambering to her feet awkwardly, she fumbled for a few seconds with the belt of her fluffy pink bathrobe. “S-sorry, you’re just a little distracting. You Karnakians are built . . . umm . . . “

“Different?” Tra'Cha offered gently, the purr-chirp accenting his speech.

She could only smile sheepishly in return as she finished untying the knot in her belt. “. . . I was going to say ‘for her pleasure’ but yeah. Different. For sure.” As the front of her robe fell open, she could practically feel his eyes begin roaming across her. It made her heart pound and her skin break out in goosebumps. It felt good. Really good. She watched his reaction to her bare form, noting the way his chest rose and fell a tad quicker, and the way his pupils shrank down to pinpricks. She drank in wit her eyes the way his tool seemed to turn a shade darker, staring as it went from amethyst to an almost royal purple.

She shrugged the robe off of her shoulders, the fringe tickling her as is slid down her shoulders and back, landing in a crumpled pile at her feet. The last bit of decency gone from her body, she could feel her face practically glowing. With her arms crossed, she gave her bosom a slight lift, the cold flesh of her forearms meeting the warmth of her breast. Her heart pounded like a trip hammer in her chest as he scoured every inch of her with his gaze. His focus was so intense, she could practically feel it. Like the lightest touch possible, his attention running across her breast, between her thighs, and over her mound.

Her eyelids fluttered a moment. She was just . . . just standing there. Why did it feel so hot? Why did this feel so sordid in the most wonderful of ways?

She anxiously nibbled her lower lip. “Do . . . you want to touch me too?” she asked. Her voice may have sounded hesitant, but she knew that she wanted him to say yes.

He cocked his head to the side, and for a moment, her heart skipped a beat as the possibility he might say no became very real.

Head dipping momentarily, Tra'Cha replied in the faintest voice that could come from such a large apex predator, “Well, if you don’t mind it, that is.” The head bob, the little tell of shyness, melted Kat’s heart a little bit right then and there.

She couldn’t have hidden her smile, even if she wanted to. And she didn’t want to. A breath she didn’t know she’d been holding slipped out of her as she took a step closer to him. His standing height dwarfed her as he rose from the ottoman, but he lowered his head to plant the broad, triangular slope of it against her alabaster abdomen, closing the gap between them to nothing. The feathers of his midnight black crest made her gasp and shiver as they teased her pink flesh nubs on her chest with the faintest of kisses. His head, pressed firmly against her midsection vibrated gently with his hybrid purring chirps, and she couldn’t help but gently encircle his head with her arms. Her fingers ran through his crest, adjusting the individual feathers, preening them neatly back into place from where the VR headset had mussed or misaligned them while soaking in his radiant warmth.

“To answer your question, from earlier I mean-” Kat murmured quietly, still embracing the Karnakian’s head, “-about why I shave, I mean. I feel prettier, you know? It’s a confidence thing. It makes me feel, well . . . sexy.”

Another shiver worked through her as his warm, heavy breath danced across her skin and down between her thighs. All of the ‘exploring’ the two of them were doing was definitely having an effect on her now.

He pressed his head into her a bit harder, nudging her back a step, but she enjoyed it. The weight, the pressure, the clear power in his frame used so gently and sparingly for her sake.

“H-hey . . . Tra'Cha?” Kat panted, her cheeks a ruddy scarlet. “Do you, maybe, like . . . want to . . . let me touch you again?” She could barely get the words out, but knew that Tra'Cha would understand what she meant.

His eyes snapped open, he pulled away with a slow and purposeful care. Crest twitching in anticipation, he gave a single human nod. “Yes.”

Her mouth felt dry, and she couldn’t exactly make eye contact for more than a few seconds, but Kat managed to gesture-nod to the couch enough to indicate she wanted him to lay down. He complied, moving with a ponderous and deliberate slowness that almost frustrated her a little. Resting on his side, he looked up at her with a tentative hopefulness. “N-not quite. Umm, on your back?” She made a ‘roll-over’ gesture with one hand, biting down on the knuckle of the other.

She watched, mouth hanging slightly agape, as he shifted onto his back. She noticed the two powerful, claw-ended legs protruding dangerously into the air, but what held her attention was the proportionally powerful looking tool between them. Her breath hitched in her throat. She could have sworn to herself that it wasn’t that big 2 minutes ago. After straddling his feathery tail, she knelt down with head between his legs. Her face inches from the ribbed, purple alien malehood, she concluded there had to be at least 18 inches of it. Wrapping both hands around the base, she felt a faint, fuzzy tingle course through her fingertips.

“Can . . . can I stroke it?” She traced her thumbs along individual ridges, drawing a long, rising note from Tra'Cha. His hips bucked forward slightly, speaking with actions instead of words and causing the downy feathers of his tail to tease her already needy sex. A gasp of pleasure escaped her, the sudden, faint contact and its immediate withdrawal only further stoking her barely contained desire.

That was all the prompting she needed, and using both hands Kat began pumping up and down the length of the rock hard tool before her. Her fingertips tingled with electric energy, an innate property of Karnakian biology, set to the task of sensual pleasure. She wasn’t sure if he could control it, or it was just something that happened naturally, but either way she didn’t much care. It was awesome. Taking a deep breath, and casting away her inhibitions, she planted a long lick on the monstrous cock before her. From musky base to drooling tip, she ran her tongue over his ridges and nubs, the weird mouth-feel of it making her smile playfully. If they sold one of these in stores, she’d buy two. “Hab yooo eber-”

 

She paused, smacking her lips a few times as she realized the electric tingle had made her tongue go numb for a moment.

Throwing her head back with a groan at first, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Tah’Hya! Yoo biben ‘ell me your bick ‘ould maa mah ponge go nomb.” She broke down into a giggling, snorting fit, falling forward and burying her face in the fluff around the base of his amethyst rod.

Tra'Cha chirped a frantic apology, “S-sorry . . . I didn’t know you were going to put your mouth on it.” He looked away, bashfully hiding his face with the feathers of his fore-limb. “Umm . . . does that mean you’re going to stop?”

“Hah!” She squeezed a thick bead of clear fluid from his tip, thumb running in little circles across the nubbed underside of it. Smearing it between her fingers, she took a playful lick of his clear excitement. She found it salty, but also a little tart. She really wasn’t surprised that his pre was just as exotic and exciting as the rest of him. She kept idly playing with him until there was enough feeling in her tongue to string together a whole sentence. “No . . . just don’t ask me to do any tongue twisters really soon, okay?”

A two-tone warble escaped him as she planted a line of kisses up the side of his member before finally moving to engulf the tip with her mouth. It was . . . clumsier than she had hoped. Really didn’t help that the whole lower half of her head was tingling like she was sucking off a light-bulb, but she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. This was . . . fun. She wasn’t a blushing virgin by any stretch of the imagination, but with her other partners there had always been this pressure to perform. There was always a pressure to make all the right moves without asking, and be all the right things without trying. 

Here she was, awkwardly slurping away at a giant alien dick, with the weirdest feeling. She felt relaxed. She didn’t feel like she was “giving him the time of his life” or “making sweet love.” It wasn’t a one-night hookup, with that transactional tone of “do for me so I’ll do for you.” She was quite literally just fucking around with a long-time, close friend. A close friend that had a phenomenal dick for sucking. The tingling sensation was incredible, and while she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to feel her face if it got any more intense, even giving him a casual hand job would still be a pleasantly tactile experience for her.

A little jolt of electricity made her eyes bulge, and she struggled not to bite down from the shock. Pulling him out of her mouth with a little wet pop, she tried to lick the lips she could barely feel with the tongue that she was uncertain still existed. “Allblyee-” She groaned, the rest of her sentence dying in her throat, and gave a small huff. She could feel the drool running down her chin, and she hoped she was scowling as she looked up at Tra'Cha.

She made three gestures in universal sign language. Wind, Occupation, End. 

“Right. My apologies. If you want we can stop-” His sheepish apology was cut short as Kat leaned forward, cupping her petite breasts with one arm, taking hold of his tool with the other.

A low, crooning moan trembled up out of Kat’s throat as her goal became suddenly apparent. Guiding the electrically charged shaft with one hand, she began to draw little circles with his pre-slicked head around her rose tinted areolae. The effect on her was immediate, her breath hitching as a tremor rocked through her body. Little pulses of current coursed through her incredibly sensitive chest flesh, and with every circular pass her overstimulated tit would hang for just a moment on the ridged underside of his cock. The event, though regular and expected, never failed to draw anything less than a gasp, chirp, or moan from both of them. She had to switch from one breast to the other every few passes, the electro-stimulation getting so intense it bordered on painful. Tra’Cha seemed to be enjoying her just as much as she was enjoying him, if the prodigious amount of arousal smeared across her’s chest was any indicator. Every time Kat switched from teasing one teat to the other she left a glittering strand of Karnakian precum hanging between her pert mounds of chest flesh. The sensation of her running across his manhood so sparingly was driving Tra'Cha wild, and his legs kicked weakly into the air to the time of a song consisting of pleasured chirps and growls. Only when the little cherry colored mounds that crowned her now sex-slick breasts had grown so hard they almost ached did she finally stop teasing him.

“Hey, Tra'Cha?” Kat cupped her breasts, tenderly kneading both of them to get some feeling back. Her breath was ragged, and she had only cracked one eye to look up at her favorite Karnakian with.

“Yes?” His chest was heaving, and his crest fluttering erratically. 

“This was a really good idea.” She giggled, earnestly, slumping forward onto his body. His tool was pinned between both of them, and Kat could feel the power of his heart beating in every pulse of the massive rod digging into her.

He cleared his throat, trying to shift into a more comfortable position, but giving up when he realized he’d have to move her to do it. “This wasn’t really an idea. Just sort of happened. Is still sort of happening.”

Letting out a long but happy sigh, Kat righted herself and clambered up the feathery body beneath her. His mode of speech was getting less formal, and the barrier between them seemed to have largely dissipated. 

Kat dipped a single hand between her legs to probe the bright pink and slightly puffy lips of her dew-laden flower. Two fingers spread the entrance of her badly-neglected sex, and she leaned back against one of Tra'Cha’s raised legs to angle her hips forward enough to give him an uninhibited look at what he’d only glimpsed before. Running two fingers in a tight circle around her hood, she closed her eyes and squeaked with sexual pleasure. A thin sheen of sweat had built up across her lithe body from the long list of tantalizing ministrations worked upon it, and she could feel her fiery red hair clinging to her brow like she’d just been pulled out of a wet sauna. Oh well. She didn’t care right now, and she knew Tra'Cha didn’t either.

She felt a broad, rough, and heavy tongue lash across her chest, eliciting a happy but surprised squeal out of her. She giggled happily as she her eyes shot open, a playfully mischievous . “Alright, I get it. You want my attention. Doesn’t matter the species, you all want the same thing . . .” Tra'Cha opened his mouth to protest what he found to be an unfair characterization, but the retort was swallowed by a song of excited encouragement as she took his tool in one hand and began to reposition herself a bit higher.

“The problem-” Kat began, biting her lip as she pressed Tra'Cha’s fleshy lance against her entrance. It spread her lips wide, stretching them taut against the first ridges of his shaft as she barely managed to stuff the drooling tip of his fuckstaff into her. The rest of her sentence was lost to a long, throaty, trembling moan as the electrical tingle coursed through he slick box. Eyes rolling back and legs aquiver, she slumped forward as an orgasm rocked her body. With an audible schlick, Tra'Cha’s massive cockhead popped free and dragged a glistening trail of mixed arousal from her tight womanhood and across her backdoor, sending eddies of pleasure through her the entire way down. She groaned loudly, biting down hard on her lip as a series of involuntary spasms trembled through her slight form.

Woozily, she pushed herself up off of the Karnakian’s chest after a few seconds of recovery time. “ . . . that’s not the problem I was talking about. Is this- ohmygosh- is this what it feels like to be a one pump chump?” She rubbed her eyes, blearily looking up at him with a dopey grin on her face. “Have to say, finally being on the other side of it is nice.” She knew she’d finish quickly, between how much really sensual foreplay she’d done and the fact that her room-mate was packing electrical heat it was basically a given. But, as she blinked her glassy eyes at him, she realized just how innately compatible they felt together. 

Tra'Cha blasted a little puff of air into her face, a physical display of disapproval. “Well if you’re done, Miss One-Pump, I have to go take a shower.” She could tell he was teasing her . . . but also that if she was actually done he was definitely going to need a shower. 

She planted a palm in the middle of his chest down. “No. Nonono. Not done, not over. I still have some feeling in my legs. And there’s something I’ve been wanting to try ever since I saw just what you looked like below the . . .” She furrowed her brow. “I was going to say belt, but you don’t wear belts. And now I’m trying to remember what the Karnakian equivalent of a belt is.” An awkward silence hung between them for several seconds.

“. . . could you figure that out after this?” Tra'Cha gently suggested.

“R-right, yeah.” She shook her head, and wrapping her hand firmly around the pointed head of his dick, pressed her slit against the underside of his ridged shaft. Her thighs immediately clamped down, a squeal of unadulterated bliss fighting its way out of her as the electro-stimulation of his Karnakian lit up every nerve in her loins like the 4th of July. She grit her teeth, and fighting through the immediate near climax, pressed herself down on the crown of his member until her lips kissed his downy abdomen. With Tra’Cha’s malehood firmly sandwiched between his own feathery underside and her spasming quim, Kat took a moment to catch her breath. The bumps that ran along his underside perfectly aligned with her clitoral hood, gently kneading the flesh around it with every involuntary twitch and quiver of her overstimulated nethers. Tra’Cha himself was also nearing his limits. The silky heat and trembling wetness of the fiery-haired girl that had mounted him was almost too much for him to bear.

With a circular grind of her hips, she took hold of both his legs to drag herself down the length of his tool. Though not inside, she couldn’t tell the difference as his massive width perfect stretched her in ways no man had ever managed before. Up and down she worked his length, never able to take him inside, but more than enough to please them both. Every ridge was a new peak of pleasure, every electrified nodule another surge of carnal satisfaction. The crest that ran the length of his underside thrashed her pleasure button in a ways that erased all higher level thought in her. Addled by the rapturous bliss of their congress, all she could think was to grind against him harder, and faster. Back arched and gasping for breath, the apartment echoed with the mixed song of their pleasure as Tra’Cha’s could no longer hold back the inevitable.

Kat had been hopping from shuddering climax to climax, but what struck her next was beyond anything she’d could have imagined. Stars flickered through her vision as the hardest orgasm of her life fired right through her body like a lightning bolt from her clit out the top of her head. It robbed every ounce of her fine motor control as it stole the breath from her lungs. “Blehbuhhh~” was all that she managed to drunkenly slur as she flopped forward into a mass of chest fluff. No sexy moaning or screaming Tra’Cha’s name, just a climax so intense she was afraid she peed herself as something hot splattered across her abdomen, chest, and the side of her face. She lay like that for what felt like ages, face and body pressed into a steadily spreading, thick, gooey warmth as a faint citrus and ozone filled the air.

“H-hey Tra'Cha?” She managed to moan weakly as she lifted her head. Thick, ropey strands of seed nearly glued them together, but she wasn’t a bit preoccupied by the fact that she couldn’t feel the lower half of her body.

“Y-yes?” he chirped weakly back.

“How do you say ‘Sexual Tyrannosaurus’ in Karnakian?”

Tra’Cha paused for a moment, as if mulling over a difficult question. “Well, I must admit I’ve never heard that particular phrase before, so this is just a rough attempt, but . . . Sexual Tyrannosaurus in Karnakian.” His crest flared smugly, horribly splayed by their weird position on the couch. Kat groaned loudly in response, “Your jokes are the worst . . .” but smiled anyway.

Quarantine could be a lot worse, she decided.