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I nod, moving to the edge of the bed and slumping there. I look ridiculous—trou around my knees, still wearing my tunic and boots, spent cock dribbling. And my lower lip quivering, can't forget that part. I touch my mouth with my clean hand just to be sure, and if it was trembling earlier, it's stopped. Thank kef for that.
Ruthie returns a moment after I finish stripping my clothing off, boots and all. She's wiped her hands clean and has brought a warm towel for me, clasping it around my cock in a gentle way that makes me shudder with arousal all over again. "I can do that," I tell her.
"You can, but I like touching you." She leans over me and kisses me even as she cleans off my half-mast cock. "I got some plas-film from the bathroom, too."
Plas-film. Birth control. It's a gossamer-thin bit of plas that molds to my length and ensures that none of my semen enters her body. I've never given it much thought, but I've also never had sex before. "I don't know if I can give you a baby, Ruthie. We're two different species. I'm not sure a'ani even have the ability to impregnate a woman even with assistance."
She shrugs. "I'm not ready for kids right now, so we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Besides, my sister Ruth and Straik are two different species, and he knocked her up fast enough."
My jaw drops. She's right. Ruth is a clone, too, and was most likely tampered with to make her body fertile and compatible for multiple species. We don't know what changes Ruthie has had, but it stands to reason that they're the same as Ruth's. "Plas-film is good," I agree. "Thank you."
Ruthie pulls out the tiny packet and offers it to me. "Should we put it on now?"
"Probably not until I'm hard again. It won't fit right."
She tosses it down on the bed and grins at me. "So what you're telling me is that we have to get you hard again."
"It won't be difficult," I tell her even as she takes a step back and starts to remove her clothing. "Everything you do makes me hard. You could look at me and I'd get hard."
"That's going to make us continuing to work together difficult, don't you think?" She lifts one foot and pulls off a boot. Then she tosses the other aside and reaches for the fastener on her clothing. She's not being deliberately sexy, but I can't take my eyes off of her. Even her smallest movements are fascinating.
She undresses, shucking off her clothing, and then stands in front of me, bare and gorgeous. The nipple piercing winks at me from her small breast, naughty and eye-catching. I itch to touch her, flexing my hands. "How is your piercing?"
"All healed up," Ruthie tells me. "Something like this would take months back home, but the cream you have is incredible. Hooray for alien medical technology, right?"
"Right," I say, and put my hands on her hips, tugging her towards me. She's mouthwateringly beautiful—slender and long-legged, her skin a pale gold and flawless. Ruthie has no tattoos, so she looks doubly naked to me, and my gaze keeps drawing back to that lone breast piercing. "Can I touch it?"
"I would love nothing more." Her voice grows soft and she loops her arms around my neck, stepping between my thighs to move closer.
I slide my hands up and down her sides, feeling the warmth of her and the softness of her skin. Just being able to hold her like this is an absolute dream, and I want to caress her forever. Just hold her and admire her and pet her to let her know that she's loved and she's beautiful. I press a kiss to her shoulder, loving the little sound she makes when I do. Then I kiss along her collar, and Ruthie arches her neck so I can nibble on her unimpeded.
I'm larger than her, even seated as I am on the edge of the bed, but I don't mind contorting myself a little to pleasure her. I dip my shoulders and pull her closer as I kiss lower, heading for that inviting piercing. She leans back, and when my lips skim over the top of her breast, she sighs, her eyes closing.
I watch her carefully, checking her reactions, and skim my thumb over the piercing.
Immediately, her nipple hardens and she whimpers.
"Bad?" I ask.
"Very sensitive," she tells me, and wriggles. "So very sensitive."
"Can I touch it again? Or do you want me to go to your other breast?" I deliberately tease the nipple there with my thumb.
"All touches are good," she breathes, and then puts her hands on my head and drags me down toward her piercing.
There's my answer. Like a starving creature forced to take a single bite from a feast, I gently lift her breast with my fingers and feed the tip carefully into my waiting mouth.
