Your new alien admirer may be quite the terrifying sight to behold, but this feels oh so good. It’s not even hard to explain why. Her squishy, supple body is able to conform to yours, wrapping around you so the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle, yet she still maintains curves and feels soft and feels firm in all the right ways in all the right places. That gooey, shimmering slime that she’s coated in a wet sheen of acts as both a soft, sticky, natural gloss on her lips and a cool, slick, natural lubricant on her fingers. While she sucks and slobbers on your neck, giving you one helluva hickey, one of her hands fondles your Earthly spheres, while the other gets a firm grip on your shaft and strokes from base to tip and back and forth. If she keeps playing with your rocket like this, it’s not going to be long before something launches.
But this is just all too weird!
“No!” you cry out. “I can’t!”
You reach down your undies and pry her fingers off of your equipment. She lets out a longing, disappointed whimper as you squeeze out the gap in the door. Her arms stretch and reach out for you. You clear the doorway and slam your fist on the control panel. The door quickly slides shut, and the two gooey three-fingered hands drop to the floor.
You feel kinda bad about it, but you don’t have time to linger on that right now. You’ve got to find someone, or at least something, that can tell you how you got here and what you should do about it.
You stumble around the next corner and find an open locker with clothes that look like they’ll fit you. You pull on a pair of light khaki cargo pants, a matching button-up shirt, and a blue-gray lightweight jacket.
You feel grateful you’re at least no longer half-naked as you continue getting lost in these winding corridors.
As you turn away from the locker, you see an all too familiar head of various neon colored hairs coming right at you.
Speaking of half-naked . . .
Though, to be fair, she’s relatively more dressed than the last time you saw her. Aaisla’s outfit has transformed again. Now, instead of a naughty nurse costume, she’s wearing a bright red latex catsuit. It fits her like a glove, hugging every single curve of her body. She’s got the zipper pulled down far enough to keep her enticing cleavage still fully on display.
“There you are, Commander!” she calls out eagerly.
You make a run for it.
Each of her steps are slow and deliberate, but, thanks to her computer brain, she’s able to plot a path that perfectly intersects yours. Before you know it, she’s got her arms around you and is excitedly planting kisses all over your face.
“You can stop playing hard-to-get,” Aaisla says. “You can’t possibly make me want you anymore than I already do, and there’s no one around for us to be on our best behavior for.”
As she continues leaving kisses on your face and neck, one of her hands drops to your groin and begins gently massaging you on the outside of your pants. While it may looks like she’s just casually stroking, her handiwork is actually coldly calculated to tease you as much as possible.
Her loving grip is gentle enough for you to duck away from.
“I’m sorry,” you say as you run around the next corner. “But I’m an old-fashioned guy. I don’t hump computers.”
Even with your erection making running a little awkward, you’re still moving a lot faster than her. She doesn’t seem designed to run; just to walk very deliberately. Still, you know it can only be a matter of time before she catches up to you again.
You turn to another door, larger than the others, and go through it. Now you’re in some kind of conference room. There’s another door on the other side of the room. Maybe that’s just the exit you need to put you in a different part of the ship and put some much needed distance between you and that robotic vixen.
You’re almost to the door when the air fills with that cloyingly sweet smell from earlier. You hear a wet splat!, then turn around to see the big-titted, lip-faced alien you encountered a moment ago on top of the conference table. It looks like her arms have grown back. Either that, or this is another alien just like her. No. You can’t explain how you know, but you feel certain this is the same one, and that she’s eager to continue what she started earlier. Despite the fact she has no visible eyes, you feel like she’s looking right at you, lustfully.
She puckers and smacks her lips in the air as she charges right at you. You make it through the door and slam it shut just in time to hear her thud into it face first.
You turn down the hall to hear footsteps approaching and Aaisla’s voice calling your name. You quickly slam your hand on the nearest door control panel and duck inside.
The door closes and you look over your surroundings. It’s a cabin, and everything in it appears to be totally wrecked. Especially the bed. The frame is in shambles, the blankets and sheets are in disarray, and the mattress is completely beaten up and leaking stuffing. At least the simple chair next to it seems to still be in pretty good shape.
As you continue to take note of the destruction, your eyes come to rest on a device labeled “Audio Journal” on a counter by the door. Maybe this could finally be a clue to what was happening on this ship and what had become of the crew.
You pick it up and press play. You can tell you’re hearing a male voice, but it’s so fuzzy you can barely make out the words, let alone recognize the voice.
The recording starts with crackling static mixed with someone hemming and hawing as if what they’re about to say is going to be extremely awkward.
“I, um, found this creature in this . . . crrrcrrrrrcrrr . . . It’s head kinda reminded me of a thick pair of lips, and it, uh, just seemed really eager to . . . crrrrrcrrr . . . --ucked the living . . . crrrrrr . . . out of me . . . crrcrrrrcrr . . . best orgasm I’ve ever had. I, um, brought it back aboard the ship to, uh, hide in my cabin. For when I get lonely . . . Or bored . . . Or just plain horny.”
There’s a few seconds of silence, and then another recording.
“So, Gisele . . . Um, that’s what I’ve decided to call her. So, Gisele has grown really quickly since I brought her on to the ship. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep hiding her from . . . crrrcrrr . . . And it’s not just her size that’s increased. Her desire to . . . crrrrcrr . . . me is even crazier than that first time. It’s got so I can barely keep up with her . . .” The voice was interrupted by the sound of smacking lips. “Please, honey! Not right now. I don’t think I’ve got the energy to . . . ooooooooh-oooooooh-oh-kay!”
There was more urgency in the voice in the next recording.
“Gisele’s escaped! Her libido is so out of control, I think it might actually be dangerous if I don’t . . . don’t . . .”
On the recording, you hear something make a husky and guttural noise that kind of sounds like the word “Hi!”
“Gisele!” the voice on the recording says. “Calm down, girl! You've already completely worn me out. I don't think I can take anymore.”
It's hard to tell if what follows are cries of terror, pain, or unbelievable ecstasy. Kinda sounds like a combination of all three.
If Aaisla is patrolling the hallways, you think she’s probably moved on by now. But when you try to open the door, you just hear an annoying beep and the word “Malfunction” flashes in big red letters on a display panel.
That intoxicating smell fills your nostrils again. You hear a giggling sound like the one on the recording. You look over your shoulder to see “Gisele” descending upside down from the ceiling. It looks like she was able to squeeze herself through that tiny crack.
You keep frantically hitting the door panel, harder and faster as your panic grows. It keeps flashing “Malfunction.” Part of you wants to yell for help, but what’s the point? Here, there’s no one who can hear you scream. You're trapped in this tight space with her, and you can tell just from the expression on those giant lips and the way she shimmies back and forth that she has plenty in store for you.
You turn around to look for another place to run or hide, and the shimmering navy blue alien is directly in your face. She presses you into the door, thrusting her titillating torpedoes directly into you, and then centers her lips over yours and sssmmmmooooooooooch!
Her mouth separates from your face with a loud pop, and you feel dazed for a second.
She spins around with you and then gives you a little shove. You stumble backwards and fall ass-down on the chair by the bed. By the time you catch your breath from that kiss and try to stand up, she’s able to just press one hand on your chest to push you back into your seat.
Then the alien straddles your lap and proceeds to give you the raunchiest, most intense lap dance anyone, at any time, on any planet, has ever received.
As she gyrates in your lap, she puts those three-fingered hands on the back of your head and pulls you into her ridiculous bosom, rubbing your face all over those insane boobies, covering you in viscous sweat.
Then she pulls your head out of her rack and gives you a quick smooch on each side of your face. You catch your reflection on a broken mirror on the other side of the room. Her lips leave a slimy residue wherever they’ve touched. You can clearly see black lip prints on your skin. She’s marked you. Your hers now.
She puckers those huge lips and zeroes in on your mouth again, pulling you in with the sticky suction. Her bright blue tongue pushes through your lips and wriggles around in your mouth.
You undeniably have a rock-hard, intensely throbbing erection now, poking her posterior as she bounces up and down and wiggles back and forth on top of it.
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