desire through me. She asks me questions about my odds and ends and artifacts, and I answer each with as much detail as possible. Doris enjoys hearing about such things.
After leaving my suite, we wind through the halls, and I show her the multiple guest rooms until we arrive back at her suite that is nearly as large as my own. She invites me inside and asks me to tell her about the painting on the programmed screen.
We sit together on her couch, and I tell her as much as I know about Martian art history, which is not much. But I do show her how to access the information and metadata associated with each piece.
She flips through the paintings on her tablet and activates the accompanying informational narration, which she seems to find fascinating. It lands finally on a painting of a lion and a man painted by one of our early pioneers.
“I’ve been curious about this piece ever since I first saw it. It’s so reminiscent of Rembrandt, I almost thought it was a work of his I’ve never seen.”
“It is quite energetic,” I say. Although I enjoy art, as most people do, it has never been a discipline in which I have taken much interest.
“Had the Martians already begun to grow larger than humans at this point?” she asks me, and her hot eyes sweep over my body.
“According to the date, I believe so.”
“His body is certainly ideal,” she says, peering back at the screen. “It’s a lot like yours.”
Our eyes lock. Her lips part. The primal lust inside me cannot be held back as the scent of her sex fills the room. She half climbs and I half pull her onto my lap. The feeling of her pressed against my erection is like being reborn. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her deep and hard. Her hips move as our tongues lash. She glides over my cock in waves like the crashing sea.
I lift her into the air, her legs wrapped around my waist. She is so tiny in my arms that she is almost weightless. I walk her across the suite into the bedroom, where I deposit her on the bed and rip at the dress that holds her sweet body prisoner.
I soon have her naked and panting below me. Her eyes are wide with lust. The fabric between her legs is soaked with her juices as I stroke the damp strip of cloth. I hold it between my hands and rip it away from her body. She gasps and quivers below me. I spread her creamy white legs and kneel between them. The scent of her sex is intoxicating. The sight of her throbbing, wet pussy sends me into a frenzy so deep I cannot stop what has begun.
She mewls as I dive into her. My tongue meets the slit between her legs, and I lick up the moisture that seeps from inside. She groans and quivers, begging for more. Her fingers thread through my hair, and she pulls me against her. My mind is blank, save for one crystal-clear thought: I must have her.
My tongue darts deeper, sliding inside her walls, gliding over her opening, and hooking on her swollen, tight bud. She gasps when I flick at her needy arousal.
“More, more, more,” she whines.
I cannot stop. Even if I wanted to. Which I do not. I remember my instructions on Earthling female arousal, and I wag my tongue over her clitoris. She is more than pleased with this action. Her groaning and moaning grow more frantic, her gasping and mewling more insistent.
“Oh my God, I’m going to come,” she whimpers.
I slide two wet fingers into her channel as I suck her clit. She grinds out a gravelly moan. Her thighs lock around my head, and she bucks against me. Her channel clinches around my fingers, and she throbs under my tongue.
She gushes with her release, and I lick up each drop of the ambrosia her body has produced for me. When I slide my fingers from inside her, I suck them into my mouth, tasting everything that she’s given me. She sits up before me, leaning on her elbows. Her eyes are wide, and her lips are parted. Her expression is one of shock. I stand, my erection throbbing. She reaches for me, gazing up into my eyes. It isn’t until this moment that I realize what a mistake I have made. This is far too fast. We are