I’d been stuck on Stigel 9 for over half a year on my own. My former outpost partner had been mostly eaten by some kind of ravenous carnivore that Space Command had informed us didn’t inhabit that planet. I played the recording of his last, frantic cries for help when I got lonely. Since then, I’d pretty well barricaded myself inside the station to stay alive and serial-masturbated to stay sane.
When I received word that a male replacement was due to arrive within the month, I was more than a little pleased. Whoever this poor schlub was, he was going to get the lay of his life (with many more to quickly follow). Oh, I know we ladies are supposed to be somewhat picky about whom we invite into our beds but you try dating your own fingers for six straight months and see how choosey you are! I like a good wank as much as the next gal but sometimes you just need a big ugly cock begging to toss its junk into your custard hole. Anyway, that was the approximate headspace I was in as the arrival day neared.
By the time the transport capsule was lining up for its final approach, my twat was dripping like a rain forest. Come to mama, you big strong handsome spaceman you! Just imagine my disappointment when the station hatch popped open and out stepped a Biragon. Now, I’ve got nothing against the Biragon, they’re a fine species…in their own differently beautiful way. Their main problem was they weren’t anatomically human enough to help me out with my problem. The male is over 7 feet tall and a bit lizard faced, but that would not have deterred me in my current condition.
The main obstacle between myself and rampant alien coitus was his crazy fucking penis. The female Biragon is a lot larger than the big male reptile I had before me (think black widow spiders) and their reproductive organs are deep inside them. Thus, the Biragon doowanger is thin and about three and a half feet long with a small bulb on the end that slithers around like a snake. It’s the only way a male can put a splash on her stash if you get my drift. Weird and creepy shit, indeed.
“What is wrong?” Cell asked, obviously noticing the abject disappointment flooding my face.
“Nothing at all,” I lied, “Once you’ve lived on this planet for a few weeks, your face will have this expression too,”
So, my sex life remained a strictly DIY affair for the foreseeable future. But, when I wasn’t secretly masturbating in utility cupboards, I was getting to know my new companion. He was actually a pretty nice guy. No real sense of humor, but then there aren’t a lot of Biragon stand-up comics if you know what I mean. Despite the lack of major yucks, Cell was really helpful and considerate and I became very fond of him. As each week went by, he became a little less repulsive…well, sort of.
This minor fondness, combined with my major horniness, sent me to the computer to check out that bizarre sexual organ of his. Initial pics were not very encouraging. Regular schtupping was going to be impossible. Our bits were just not going to fit together without killing me. Then I had the most minor of inspirations.
“Is this a joke?”
“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m absolutely desperate here. We can’t screw, that’s a given, but your tongue isn’t that much different from mine, right? A little mutual oral sex, that’s all I’m asking. Let’s give it a try and see how we like it. I’ll do your laundry. I’ll cook that weird shit that you eat. Anything! Just lick my pussy until I cum and I’ll be your obedient slave.”
“But…I’m not really attracted to you.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way Cell, but I think you’re fucking hideous. It doesn’t matter. Another 18 months here without some kind of sexual interaction – however tenuous – and I’m going to wear my masturbating finger down to a stub. Do we have a deal?”
There was a pause. “And you know how to cook trubnar?”
“I’ll learn. I’ll cook up the best goddamn trubnar you’ve ever tasted.” I shamelessly started to remove my pants. “Have you ever played with a woman’s tits?”
“I’ll teach you, it’s not hard.”
Grabbing his hand, I yanked him over to the nearest cot. Off came my shirt and bra and down I went (on the cot not on him). If I was going to suck on that odd evil-looking snaky thing, I wanted some major pussy munching first. Cell, did not disappoint. After a few quick pointers and some negligible adjustments to his technique, I had him licking mommy’s mound like it was made out of trunbar. The Biragon tongue is considerably longer and more agile than the human variety. He was able to slither it round my inner and outer lips with amazing results. The delicate dabbing of my clitoral hood with his lingua had me quivering. Yes, I was beginning to remember what actual sex felt like! At one point, he burrowed his big undulation mouth organ into my vaginal canal. This almost made my hair stand on end (in a good way). I tried to run my fingers through his short coarse head fur but they just got stuck. Lovely nummy feelings started to rise up in me. My pelvis was bucking and gyrating as he dined on the soft dewy flesh between my legs. I could feel my thigh muscles tighten on the sides of his head. This was it! I was on the orgasm runway. My engines were roaring and my flaps were down. I took one look at the grotesque, monstrous face burying itself in my swollen pussy and completely lost it. Cluster bombs of orgasmic delight tore through my very core, frying every nerve ending they came in contact with. He seemed to have a sixth sense of when to lick and when to pause, keeping me on the very cusp of overstimulation but never overstepping it. Cell mined my climactic seizures like the dénouement of the 1812 Overture. It literally felt like I had cannons exploding between my legs. When the last clitoral upheavals subsided, Cell had left a spent and naked wasteland of carnal devastation.
“Shit,” I thought, as I lay there and basked in my “I’ve just cum straight through my skull and now I can’t move” afterglow, “now I’ve got to suck this mutant creation’s cock!”
I gave myself a few moments to gather my post-orgasmic thoughts and gird myself for the ominous task ahead. By this time, he had pulled himself up alongside me on the cot and I was staring at him face-to-face. I couldn’t bear to kiss that reptilian mug of his, so I dropped down and started removing his pants. “A deal’s a deal,” I told myself as I pulled his uniform down past his knees and there was still no sign of the head, just miles, and miles of his shaft. Imagining this thing stuck up my twat turned my blood to ice water. I touched it as I continued to descend. It felt a little like human dick skin. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so awful after all. I used to enjoy sucking my former partner’s cock before he got digested. Perhaps…YIKES!
The head was a sickly dark purple/green color and about the shape of a turkey-baster bulb and undulating (apparently, it does that when aroused – Well, I’m glad that at least one of us was!). I stroked it gently with the tips of my fingers for a few seconds trying to decide what to do. It became even more sickly purple and undulatey. Yuck! I stuck out my tongue and licked my way around the circumference. Cell let out a little moan. Hmm. I must be on the right track. After giving most of the head a good saliva bath, I opened my mouth and attempted to take him inside me. I could hear my jaw crack as I guided his bulbous genitalia over my teeth and onto the soft, squishy fun part of my maw. Truthfully, when it was inside my mouth, it wasn’t nearly as bad because I didn’t have to look at it. I grabbed a couple of fists worth of his rod and stroked it slowly while I moved my head up and down on his knobby part. Cell had obviously not had a really good blowjob for a while because he quickly became mega-turned on. I could feel his cock throbbing increase at the back of my throat as my thrusts became deeper and my sucking became more intense. About five minutes into my lingual ministrations, Cell sat up suddenly and pulled a portion of his purple head (now almost black in color) out of my mouth. I understood instantly why, as rich, voluminous pools of his gooey cum filled my entire oral cavity. His sperm was about the size of pomegranate seeds and I could feel them wriggling in my mouth. I swallowed them as quickly as possible, as another generous helping of alien semen stormed down the pipe and onto my tongue. No way was I going to throw up, though Lord knows my poor tummy was itchin’ to give the “heave ho” to all those little swimmers. But the way he licked my pit with his spit? I was going to do everything in my power to please him and get him back down there at his earliest convenience. And who knows, maybe my snatch was no picnic with strawberries for him either. When I’m out with the gals, I happen to really like a good mound munch but hey, he was from another planet and fucked these women that looked like lizard cows. Who knows what he thought of my dainty lady lips. Considering the size and weight of those Biragon babes, perhaps oral sex on his world is more dangerous than huffing paint while driving.
When the last of the little squigglers had been swallowed, I asked him if it was okay.
A big, off-putting smile cracked his unsightly visage and he shrugged. “That was quite enjoyable.” Well, I’ve received better reviews of my cocksucking but this was no time to get downhearted. We had made a start.
For the next couple of weeks, I cooked and cleaned and swallowed. I even got him to laugh once. His cock misfired and he shot a massive load into my hair. Feeling all those little “seeds” wriggling around on my scalp…well, I lost it. I could hear him chuckling as I ran off screaming to the showers in search of a strong shampoo.
I was scrubbing away when Cell came naked into the stall to help me. It was the first time I’d see his upper torso without his uniform.
“What the hell is that?” I ever-so-diplomatically inquired.
He had an 8-inch tubular wad of skin sticking out of his stomach with a big, penis-like head on it.
“It is part of the Biragon umbilical chord,” he informed me. “My people retain a section of it to remind us of our birth and the debt we owe to our parents.”
I could hardly hear what he had to say. All I was thinking was, “That looks so much like a cock I want to jump on it.”
Now, I had my second idea.
“I’m not sure that would be in the spirit of the traditions of my people,” he frowned.
“How much do you like licking my cunt?” I asked him.
“A little,” he hedged.
“So with this new plan, you’ll be able to cut the oral sex part in half and get to me sucking your joint even sooner.”
“I supposed we could try it,” he shrugged.
“I’m making disinfected cronal-skulls for dinner.”
Five minutes later, we were back in the cot and he was licking my lady parts and awaiting the good word to “come on up.” His “outie” was pretty big, so I let him whip his tongue around by goodie gulch till I was practically on the doorstep of an orgasm. Only then did I tap him on the shoulder and allow him to very gently clamber up on top of me. Because he was so tall, his chord was just in the right penis position when we were face to face. I reached down and slowly guided its girth into my vaginal aperture. Cell let me do most of the insertion because there wasn’t a lot of feeling in his belly-button burrito and a lady is fairly delicate down that way.
Gosh, it felt good to have that big wad of flesh pushing up inside me again. Luckily by now, my twat was pretty well lubricated, so his “cock substitute” made itself at home in there with relative ease. “Now I need you to start humping me but from your stomach and not your groin.”
Cell gave this a great deal of thought. After a few moments of serious consideration, he pushed his stomach muscles in a sort of upwards motion. This was heading us in the right direction because, as far as my cunt was concerned, it felt like the real deal.
“Just keep doing that, only not too hard. My little pussy hasn’t had a lot of visitors recently.”
He started to pump his 8-inch umbilical cord in and out of my salivating slit and it was immediately yummy. His real cock-head was lying on the pillow next to my cheek, so I grabbed ahold of it and started sucking on the end. Now we were both enjoying the experience. This is feeling a lot more like actual sex. Eventually, we got into a rhythm. He synced up the speed and power of his thrusts to the way I gobbled his Johnston. The more fellatially aggressive I was, the more he whammed it about inside me. Within a few minutes, I was sucking on that thing like a madwoman. I could feel an orgasm start to build in my butter dish as my vaginal opening began to seriously constrict around his rubbery rod. Suck! Suck! Suck! I’m humping him back as much as I dare, trying not to have the very life fucked out of me (but only just short of fatal). Suck! Suck! Suck! Yes! Here it came. Bam! My clit lump went off like a bottle rocket, causing my uterus to spasm in and out like the hearts in Pepe Le Pew’s love-struck eyes. My legs were splayed out like an airplane propeller. My labia were swollen to the size of sea kelp. My tits had turned the color of cricket balls. My fingers had dug their way into his sweaty green-hued ass-crack. In other words, I was being well and truly fucked. It was so so hard to keep bobbing on his knobbin’ and not just concentrate on my own pelvic pleasures that but I stayed the course.
Suck! Suck! Grunt (his not mine)! Sploosh! The first huge blob of his squirmy sperm filled my mouth, plugged my nose, and invaded my ears. I swallowed as much as I could and let the excess cum dribble down my face and neck onto the pillow. Bloop! Fuck! There was more of it. It’s lucky I hadn’t eaten lunch.
When the end of his schlong had stopped twitching and trying to drown me, Cell gently rolled onto his back, a satisfied and spent Biragon. It took me another couple of minutes before I could close my legs. I let the cool air-conditioned air waft over my exposed inner lips and basked in the just-fucked glow that I’d been missing. We had a winning formula here. I made him some of that gross and disturbing shit he likes to eat and then made him screw me again.
Over the next year and a half, we balled each others’ brains out. Doggie was a really good position for me. I’d get on all fours on a table and he would mount me standing up. The shaft of his tool would rest on my back and the head would hang over my shoulder until it was time to inhale it. Believe it or not, I grew to quite like the taste of his chewy spunk.