Curvy for Him_The Astronaut and the Alien by Annabelle Winters

Author:Annabelle Winters [Winters, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rainshine
Published: 2019-09-20T16:00:00+00:00

6

FLASH

I feel millions of years of Arganian evolution—natural and artificial—swirl in the background as I kiss her, and I almost roar in delight as I get the unmistakable sense that all of my race’s history has led to this one moment, this one point in time, this one kiss.

This one woman.

Feelings and sensations both new and ancient rip through my body as I tighten my grip on the back of her neck and smother her soft lips with my mouth. I’ve only had a body for a day, but instinct has taken over, like that part of my race’s history never died, no matter how hard our rulers tried to kill it, to purify and distill what they believed were lower drives, fit for beasts and not gods.

So I just give myself to it, give myself to everything that’s bubbling up in me like a volcano that’s slowly building to an eruption. I am hard as a rock, my cock standing straight up, so long it’s almost in the way! A moment later I’m on my feet, almost hitting my head on the ceiling as I pull Fran up off her seat and kiss her again, rip open the zipper of her white jumpsuit, tear her white undershirt down the front, and grasp her big, beautiful breasts with my hands.

She screams as I squeeze her breasts hard and then jam my face down in there, licking her between her magnificent globes as I knead and pinch, clawing and growling, hearing the howls of my ancestors ring in my ears like I am carrying them all with me. My eyes are closed tight, and I run my tongue along her bare breasts, taking her left nipple into my mouth and sucking so hard Fran almost collapses in my arms.

Both her nipples are hard and erect, dark red and shining, big like saucers. Images of Fran large and pregnant with our children are flashing through my head as I hungrily lap at her nipples and then run my tongue down along the strong curve of her belly, pulling off her tattered jumpsuit and tossing it away like it’s a handkerchief.

Her panties are history before I even notice what fucking color they are, and when the scent of her sex rises up to me, I’m gone, I’m lost, I’m history just like my race of self-proclaimed gods.

“By the twelve moons of Argan,” I whisper as I push Fran’s naked body back against the instrument panel and hold her thighs apart, unable to tear my gaze from her pink slit peeking out from that dark triangle of pure woman that I swear contains the secrets of the universe. “I want to taste you. Inhale you. Fucking devour you.”

Fran is gasping and thrashing, bucking her hips and grinding her ass as I hold her down and stare at what I know is the most beautiful sight I’ve seen. My mouth hangs open as I watch a bead of pure nectar ooze from her throbbing slit,

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