Dean had always found walking to be immensely therapeutic, especially after dealing with that rotten bitch, Janis. She was one of those devout Irish Catholics, which made her both unbelievably tempting and impossibly celibate. Whenever her mouth-ravaging kisses would begin, he would somehow forget that her legs were completely unpryable…which left him to his brooding forays into the nighttime air.
There was a path beside his house that wound into the woods, and on a breezy summer night it made for a wonderful calm. So there Dean wandered, his prick still alive with an anticipation that had yet to realize there was no nookie dangling at the end of a kiss.
Swatting at weeds with a stick, Dean ambled down the trail. He could put a stop to everything, of course, but there was just something so very addicting about her. The way she put him off, it maddened him, yet there was something erotic about it. Janis was so assertive when putting Dean in his place. There was no letting him down easily, when she said no, she meant it - and did it with the air of a disciplinarian towards a boy who should know better.
The thoughts danced through his mind so vividly that he hadn't noticed that the breeze had picked up considerably. A quiet comment that perhaps he should have brought along a windbreaker. Then he remembered it was July, there really shouldn't be any need for a coat in July.
It was enough to make reality intrude. Tossing down his swatting stick, Dean picked up the pace for the return home. It occurred to him that the night was almost as fickle as Janis. Sometimes so soothing, and then suddenly haunting. He found himself glancing over his shoulder, ludicrously. Evil eyes leering at him? When was the last time he had actually been afraid of the dark? Despite his grumbling rebuttal, the feeling wouldn't shake.
The wind seemed to be the culprit. Apple tree branches which only moments ago had welcomed him were now transformed by the gusts into crooked fingers reaching out into his path. Stronger wind, then faster steps. Some freak storm blowing in? It was the obvious conclusion, but it didn't feel like a storm front.
Concentrating on avoiding branches, it took Dean a moment to realize that the woods weren't so dark anymore, as if some slow illumination was taking place. He stopped mid-step, his mind befuddled.
A crackle sounded behind him. Loud, electric snapping echoed through the midnight sky.
Breathless and wide-eyed, Dean spun to face what he thought would be an onslaught of lightening. What he saw was almost as shocking. White light emanating from a dark body. Had Dean not been witnessing it himself, he would never have believed… but "saucer" was truly the only way to describe the body's shape.
He stumbled back, eyes scrambling to take in every detail before he'd make a mad dash away.
And then it touched him. Something. Barely brushing his shoulder, yet sending such a force rippling through his body. Induced calm spread through his muscles all the way to his brain, numbing it with pleasant serenity. He found himself standing there in the woods, like some coma patient with a spark of life left burning in some dormant corner of his head. Dean realized that it wasn't something that had touched him, rather, someone.
She finally stepped in front of him. Dean was sure it was female, her body resembling a half-hearted oil painting, full of shape but lacking detail. Her flesh was a luminous green, blonde-colored hair cascading her shoulders and back. A teardrop shaped face with enormous dark eyes studied him. Taking a breath and blinking, Dean started to speak, but his lips only parted. The realization that she wished him silent and so he was unable to speak, washed over him. A frantic attempt at moving anything, but not so much as a toe would obey him.
His attention came back to her, as if on command. He noticed suddenly that, despite her odd coloring, the she-creature was amazingly beautiful. She wanted him to see her body, to take in the suppleness until Dean ached to be on his knees doting on her soft flesh.
Two nubs appeared at her hairline. Dean watched with great interest as the nubs began to grow. Stretching from bumps into reaching antennae. They reminded him of a snake's tongue, as they wiggled in the air.
Leaning very close to him, the alien woman let the antennae go to work. One of the antennae lightly touched his brow, then followed the contours of his face, down past his jaw, rubbing against his neck. It was sticky, leaving a residue wherever it touched. Dean's eyes strained to see the goo on his jaw. Feelings and pictures began to overwhelm him. He could imagine his cock, drenched in it's own cum, sliding between her legs. Felt the familiar ache of loins that were all too often deprived.
With those thoughts, the antennae's probe felt good. Sticking against his shirt as they made their way down. Dean's cock swelled at the anticipation.
Unfortunately, his clothes were in the way of actual contact. She fed from his mind as she regarded his shirt and pants. Answering the inquiry, Dean's mind filled with the want of her removing his jeans.
Her hand went to his collar, and for the first time, Dean saw how pointed the fingers were. Not just pointed, exactly, but sharp. A trickle of fear coursed through him as her finger applied pressure against the material at his throat. The tip of her digit sliced through the fabric easily, revealing more of his body the farther down it went. With a flash of wickedness, the alien yanked, tearing his shirt away from him.
Standing half-naked before her, Dean could feel her interest in the bulge at his pants. Sharp fingers teased the fabric over his groin. Slowly, she turned her palm against him, cupping the weight of his testicles through the jeans. A sound came from her, almost a purring, as she continued to molest him. His dick responded incredibly, nearly bursting through for her to see.
Her eyes narrowed suddenly, and with a bit of a war cry, she flung her fingers over his groin. Dean gasped, his mind faint.
Nearly growling, she tore the material from his hips. Amid the sudden nausea, Dean was reassured that his loins remained intact.
His cock exposed, she knelt down to inspect. The antennae stretched out again. So slick against him, they probed around the base, sending steady tickle of electricity down his shaft. They seemed almost to stroke him as they went back and forth. The current continued to pulse through his cock, sending quivers to his balls. Her dark orbs watched his reaction, and the current became stronger. His cock twitched, overwhelmed by the sensation. Without really even touching him, she could make him cum. On command… Dean was nothing but a puppet.
Questions formed in his mind. This hardness of his, for what? Images conjured from his memory, as though her razor fingertips flicked through the files of his brain. Janis's pussy, wet and welcoming, then his urge to stuff the hole with the length of his cock. Women he hadn't remembered in years, so alive in his mind. Thrusting on top of them, being perhaps a little too rough in the front seat of his old Cutlass. The memories focused on the motion - his thick cock wedging its way into a sopping cunt, bucking harder at the tightness, making a woman take the entirety of his cock.
The thought intrigued her, as she scoured through his memory banks, hungrily consuming the feelings it evoked inside him.
The thought transfer stopped, as the alien woman stepped back. Her eyes closed, in some deep concentration. From the dull mound between her legs, a shape started to take form. Antennae recoiled, their job finished, all the data she needed had been collected.
She was mimicking his cock.
An extended glob quickly transformed into a veined shaft, a heavy set of balls dropping beneath. The pseudo-cock wiggled and twitched until she opened her eyes. Her cock was an exact replica of his… only green.
"Fuck," the word ricocheted through his mind. Obviously during her search for pornography, she had picked up English from his mind.
What he wouldn't give for her to turn around and show him what a smooth, buoyant ass she had. Indeed, he wanted to fuck her badly.
But his muscles suddenly mutinied him, throwing himself to the ground so that he was on all fours. He could feel her thoughts locking him in place, invisible bondage tethered to her mind. Dean's heart raced at the prospect of what she was about to do.
Her palms slid over his ass, again that tickle of electricity calming his body into total submission. However his mind was alive, pleading against this. The palms pushed against him, spreading him. Images of those moist, eager pussies pulsed through his mind. He felt his ass becoming wet, lubricated.
Purring like she had when she felt him up, the she-being nuzzled her cock against him. Between his cheeks until the head pressed to the opening. Dean's mind wanted to scream, but again the word "fuck" sounded. He felt the resistance draining at her urging. She kept nudging his mind until he wanted nothing but to please her.
Her cock pushed, opening him. The thought of those tight pussies yielding to his shaft. She entered him, the thickness spreading him wider. The Cutlass and Rebecca… he had been so rough. What had gotten into him that night? Was it that she felt that good or he just wanted her that badly… but Dean recalled how much like an animal he had been on top of her. It was by sheer luck that she secretly liked the rough stuff, otherwise Rebecca would have hated him forever, the way he literally tore into her.
The memory was so fresh in his mind, replaying over and over again.
Then he heard her growl, and realized why.
Sharp fingers almost digging into his hips, she forced herself in. Dean let out a yelp as she began pumping into him. Harder and harder without regard for his pain. She was an animal humping him, tearing into his tightened ass until it accommodated her shaft. The more he cried out the more aroused she became. Her freshly made balls slapped against the wetness, humiliating him by her outright control. Within moments he had become her bitch. His mind, and now his body, taken by her sheer will.
His cock oozed as she fucked him. His balls ached at the stimulation, the grinding pumping that filled his ass. As soon as he thought it, her hand clasped around his cock. Squeezing his shaft with such strength, she began milking him as she fucked him.
Her growls were louder, each pump of her hips digging in farther than the last. She wanted every inch buried in his brand new little cunt. The electricity raged from her palm to his cock, as she nearly split him the drilling of her dick. She was making him cum. He felt his balls coil, readying to burst.
With an ear-piercing scream, he felt her jab inside of him, flooding him with whatever alien cum her fake cock spewed. His balls relented, shooting sperm onto the grass beneath him.
Unceremoniously, she yanked her prick from his ass, and letting his mind go. Dean collapsed, completely spent.
Having got what she wanted, the alien woman departed, leaving Dean naked and used.
He awoke some hours later, no longer shielded by the night. His body ached, and his ass was far from recovered. Gathering his torn clothes, he covered himself the best he could to return home.
Making his way back, he remembered Janis. It was probably best that she wouldn't let him fuck her… afterall, bitches shouldn't be on top anyway
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