Earth Husbands are Odd (Earth Fathers #2) - Lyn Gala Page 0,7
had wall sex as often as they’d had sex in a bed, but some instinctive part still made Max struggle to get his feet under him. “You cheat,” Max said when a tentacle slid down his ass crack.
“Happily.” Rick popped Max’s fly open while tickling the edge of his hole and untying his shoes and tossing the shirt away. Max did appreciate a lover who could multitask.
“It’s not fair. You have too many tentacles for me to keep up with.” Max caught the thickest of Rick’s arm tentacles. It was shorter than the others with fatter fingers on the underside. And Max knew from experience that he could drive Rick wild by playing with it.
Max gasped as Rick counterattacked with a quick thrust into his ass. Then the little bastard curled the end of his tentacle against Max’s prostate. Losing control of his reactions, Max arched his back and clutched at whichever limbs were closest. Rick took the opportunity to yank Max’s pants off.
“You dirty bastard,” Max said with a gasp.
Rick hesitated long enough for Max to twist around in search of that vulnerable tentacle. “I am going to turn you into a ball of twitching tentacles.”
Drawing Max close, Rick blew bubbles against Max’s stomach. “Clarify. I make you spill genetic materials prior temporally.” He pressed Max’s prostate again, and Max writhed as tentacles held him tightly. However, he was a man on a mission, and he had to focus. He reached for the thick tentacle again, but another tentacle wrapped around his wrist and pulled his arm down to his side. Max was planning his counterattack when Rick pressed in, forcing Max’s hole to stretch.
Max gasped. “Are you?” He swallowed the rest of his words. His hole strained as a second tentacle pushed in next to the first one. That meant a tight coil undulated against Max’s prostate as he forced a tentacle farther into Max’s body . Max arched his back and moaned as he struggled to accommodate both tentacles.
“No longer mutually exclusive options. Rick problem solve winning for partner twitching.” Rick tightened his hold on Max’s thighs before his tentacle surged forward.
Max screamed in pleasure. It was like a too-hot shower, like the burn of stretching sore muscles, like the tightness at the end of a marathon. It was good—so intense that it edged toward pain, and yet left Max wanting more. “You fucking cheater,” Max gasped the words.
“I fucking,” Rick agreed with deep and full belches. Tentacles undulated against Max’s stomach, against the backs of his legs where he was ticklish, against his trapped arm. Then Rick’s reproductive tentacle touched his nipple before curling like a cinnamon bun on Max’s chest.
“Oh, you—” Max screamed and writhed as the suction started. Rick sucking so hard that Max’s nipple felt as if it was being pierced, something Max had been stupid enough to try at eighteen. Then he gentled the pressure to feather kisses over the abused nub. Rick alternated the two until Max thought he couldn’t take more. He writhed. Only then did Rick gentle his motions to soft strokes.
“Yes, I.” Rick proclaimed.
Even though the reproductive tentacle was within reach, Max couldn’t gather his thoughts long enough to make a grab at it. His cock was too hard for him to think about anything other than coming. Damn aliens with their damn tentacles.
One of the tentacles in his ass pressed farther in, a hard point of lust and need. But at the same time, Rick’s other tentacles supported Max’s body, teasing with tickle-touches. The contrast left Max feeling like one giant, overly exposed nerve.
Rick curled his tentacles around Max’s fingers and wrist, and Max tightened his hand. That made Rick shiver, and Max tightened his legs around Rick’s walking tentacle. That sent a larger shiver through him, and all his tentacles shimmied, including the two up Max’s ass.
Max lurched forward as much as he could while still wrapped in a tangle of Rick’s limbs. The movement loosened Rick’s hold over Max’s hand, and Max grabbed a tentacle the way he would a rope when trying to climb it. He circled the tentacle until it was wrapped around his forearm and then he grasped it tightly. The move never failed to turn Rick into a mass of quivering octopus, and it didn’t fail this time. Rick pressed his mouth against Max’s shoulder and blew air. Sometimes that sound meant amusement, but when they were tangling tentacles, it had a whole different meaning.
Lust distracted Rick, and normally Max would’ve