Authors: Allie Ritch
Reaching the doors to the raw bar, they pushed inside, where they were lucky enough to snag four seats at the far end. It looked like the specialty tonight was New Earthling raw oysters. Whitt had never eaten them before, but he vaguely remembered hearing something about them.
“Oh, they have Litting rice wine.” Spri clapped happily. “You all have to try it. It’s so smooth it feels like warm silk sliding down your throat.”
“Sold,” Benni responded with a laugh.
Whitt signaled the server, who stood behind a bed of seafood lying on cooling crystals. “We’ll have the party-sized platter of oysters and four glasses of the rice wine.”
It was only a matter of minutes before they were served. The wine was presented in short octagonal cups decorated with a pattern of exotic constellations. Whitt took a large sip to fortify himself before picking up one of the oysters. Was it just him, or did the seafood look a little like a woman’s…? Okay, he definitely had to get his mind out of the gutter. His frustrated libido was making him see sex everywhere he turned.
“Down the hatch.” Varion tipped the shell and swallowed one of the oysters whole.
Whitt closed his eyes and copied the movement and was surprised to discover he liked the robust, salty taste. He helped himself to several more and enjoyed the wine and the company as they rehashed the romantic drama with Krux and Katra’Ruma. Before long, the four of them had polished off the platter and were divvying up the bill.
“That was great. I haven’t had New Earthling oysters in forever.” Benni giggled. “You know none of us will be able to sleep now, don’t you? Raw oysters are an aphrodisiac.”
Evidently, the Multan knew this too because Varion just shot her a lecherous smile.
As for Whitt, he had to repress a tortured groan. Just what he needed—an aphrodisiac pumping through his system. You’d think he would have remembered that kind of detail before shoving the little buggers in his mouth.
*
The others were probably too far away to hear Whitt, but Spri was right by his side. She caught the choked sound he made in the back of his throat. She also noticed the way his fly bulged outwards from the pressure of his erection. Her blue-eyed Allurian was more than a little excited, and he looked like he was suffering for it.
Perhaps she should take pity on him? Although Spri stood by her belief that they shouldn’t have sex unless they were ready to seriously commit to each other, she’d learned enough about the other races to know there were other things she could do to relieve him. She’d just never tried them before. Now in her late twenties, she’d been with only one man in her life, which was often all the lovers her race ever took. For Littings, proper lovemaking was considered a spiritual and mental bonding as well as a physical act. It was not something to be engaged in lightly.
Her only lover, Nergo, had been a fellow Litting and her high-school sweetheart. They’d come together early, which was perhaps why theirs had never become a permanent bond, although it had lasted for years. While sex together had been a beautiful and powerful experience, it had somehow been very adolescent, like them. Eventually they’d matured and outgrown their relationship together. Their parting had been kind and peaceful and sweet, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.
Spri preferred not to go through that kind of pain again, and she knew herself well enough to understand a one-night stand or even an affair that lasted several months wouldn’t work for her. Unfortunately, Whitt didn’t understand that. He could sleep with a woman in front of a class full of people, take his pleasure, and then walk away without any effect save the physical. That realization made her feel very sad, mostly for him. Didn’t he realize what he was missing?
Xindra and Quinn had focused on something very important during the first class they’d taught. They’d both emphasized clear communication between mixed-race partners and accepting and exploring each other’s cultural differences. Perhaps if it was meant to be, Spri could make love to Whitt and teach him just what a wonderful, transcendent experience the act could be. To do that, maybe she also needed to explore his viewpoint and way of doing things.
“See you guys next week.” Varion broke into her thoughts as he and Benni split off to go their own way.
“Good night,” she told them. “Drive home safely.”
They nodded as they turned and left, and then she and Whitt were alone.
Tucking her under his arm, he led the way down the sidewalk toward their apartments. Early on, they’d discovered they lived only three blocks apart. They were also close enough to their Sex Ed class that they could walk to and from there like true Trilantans.
Although Whitt was only average size and relatively lean, he had a body made of chiseled muscles beneath smooth, pale skin. She could feel those muscles shifting and flexing along her side as they walked, and the heat radiating from his skin made her tingle. He wasn’t the only one who was aroused. Her body just wasn’t as obvious about it.
In fact, whenever Spri was in his presence, she found herself feeling extra sensitive from head to toe. A simple brush of his hand or his hip bumping against hers made her clench deep in her belly, although she’d never dared let him know his effect on her. The only time she allowed herself to express her desire was when they kissed. Tonight she didn’t think that would be enough.
“Whitt?” She had to clear her throat. “How do you feel about me?”
For a moment, he just blinked. “I really like you. A lot.”
She was probably looking at him like a smitten schoolgirl. “I really like you too. You respect me and my beliefs, and I appreciate that.”
He shrugged as if it were nothing.
“I was wondering.” Drawing a deep breath for courage, she broached a rather delicate subject. “If I were to invite you up to my place, would you be willing to fool around without having intercourse?”
His head snapped around so fast she heard his vertebra pop, and she could see the whites around his cerulean eyes.
“Absolutely,” he swore.
Spri laughed at his enthusiasm. That one word, tinged with his desperate tone, confirmed that she was doing the right thing.
“Just mouths and hands,” she warned him. “And you understand I haven’t done this before. I mean, I’ve done a little as foreplay, but I’ve never tried to finish a man that way.”
“Not a problem.” His eager expression would have appeared boyish if not for the blaze of manly lust that fueled it. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
For some reason, the way he said that made her feel better. Relaxing against him, she traveled the last block to her apartment building and coded them in. They rode up to the fifth floor and found her door. The moment Spri opened it, she let out a whoop as Whitt scooped her up and charged over the threshold. Kicking the door closed behind them, he planted her back on her feet, pulled her close, and covered her mouth with his.
“You have no idea how much I want you.” He grunted the statement between kisses.
While she stabbed her tongue into his open mouth, she slid one hand down his chest. Down, down, down until she cupped his rigid erection through his pants.
“I don’t know.” She murmured against his lips. “I think I may have some idea.”
Either Whitt’s wildness was contagious, or she had more pent-up sexual energy than she’d realized. Touching him there—feeling just how aroused his body was for her—she felt her hormones tingle like fiery sparklers under her skin.
With his tongue still tangoing with hers, he groaned encouragement into her mouth and opened her blouse with a few quick tugs. Spri felt the material slip off her shoulders and drift past her fingertips on its way to the floor. Seconds later, he had her bra off. With an insistent shove, she backed him up enough to yank his T-shirt over his head. Then she smoothed her palms over his hot, naked skin.
His hands replaced the lacy cups of her bra, plumping and lifting her breasts before tweaking her nipples. The sensation made her shiver and sigh against his mouth. She moaned when his clever fingers popped open her pants and shoved them off her hips.
“We need a bed,” he told her when he had the fabric bunched at her ankles.
Nodding in agreement, she kicked off her sandals and stumbled free of her pants.
Whitt steadied her in his arms, and his face lit up as he stared at her in nothing but her underwear. “This must be some kind of holiday. Or is it my birthday?”
She was mesmerized by the ferocity in his gaze, not to mention how good he looked shirtless. “Bed’s that way.” She pointed.
Before Spri realized what he was doing, he plucked her off her feet again, causing her to giggle in surprise. He carried her into her bedroom and set her at the foot of the bed. They stood almost directly beneath the sparkly metal mobile—more of a chandelier, really—that occupied most of her ceiling. The crystals and silver discs spun lazily overhead, shimmering in the city lights peeking through the curtains. Glowing sequins of reflected light covered her and Whitt’s bodies, and his pale blue eyes seemed to shine just as brightly.
Grasping his nape with one hand, she made him lean in for her kiss while his hands roamed her back and shoulders and breasts. With a quick yank, she popped his fly open to find him barely contained by his white briefs. The elasticity of his underwear was amazing.
“Gods yes, I need your hand on me.” He groaned, which she took as both a plea and an invitation.
Shoving his briefs down just far enough so that the waistband cradled his balls, Spri freed his cock to the open air. If they hadn’t already covered Allurian sexuality in class, she might have been shocked, but she knew to expect the hard power bridges lining the length of his shaft like ribs. She also knew his patch of pubic hair would be as smooth and soft as New Earthling mink.
He began kissing his way along her collarbone, and she watched his erection as she raked her fingers through his nether hair. In response, fluid instantly pearled on the tip of his penis, and sure enough, his midnight-blue pelt felt like satin and silk.
Whitt’s chest rumbled with a growl of pleasure.
Growing bolder, Spri circled his cock with her hand and slid her curved palm from tip to base. This time he shuddered and bucked his hips. With no need for further guidance, she started to stroke him and felt a sense of empowerment when he leaned into her and thrust his pelvis in counterpoint. She was doing this to him—exciting him to this level and calling forth this reaction. It was exhilarating to have that kind of control over such a strong, attractive male.
The bridges along the length of his shaft felt as hard as bone. Knowing he’d enjoy pressure there, she fisted her hand more tightly and added her second hand to the strokes.
“Ah, Spri! Yes. Oh, yes!” He chanted through gritted teeth.
She pumped him once, twice…
“Oh, no!” He cried out. “Wait!”
But it was already too late. On the third down-stroke, his eyelids slid shut, his face contorted, and his whole body tensed in front of her. She couldn’t even cover his cock’s head before it shot off and drenched her belly in sizzling royal-blue cum. The color was so exotic and pretty, though, it didn’t even occur to her to be disgusted.
“Damn.” He huffed and puffed, still panting hard.
Part of Spri seconded that sentiment. Although he’d looked magnificent as he’d climaxed and she was happy to have satisfied him, she’d planned on playing with him some more. These Allurian men sure liked to finish quickly. Or was it just Whitt?
“Don’t frown.” He’d recovered enough to meet her gaze, although she could see his leg muscles quivering. “It’s my turn now.”
The world spun for a split second before her back and buttocks hit the bed. Then she was staring up at her ceiling décor as he dropped to his knees and shouldered her legs apart.
*
Game time, Whitt thought. She’d gotten him too worked up there, and the result was humiliating. His worst nightmare had come true, and he’d just blown the first round—all over the front of her, no less. It was time to redeem himself. Despite the fact that he’d just come all over her like a teenage virgin, he did have skills, and she was about to get a demo.
Actually, the sight of his ejaculate coating her skin sated something primal inside him. It felt as if he’d marked her as his. He made sure to keep her on her back so it wouldn’t get on the bedcovers, though. Some women got really bent out of shape about the stains.
Planting a kiss on each of her inner thighs, Whitt grasped her behind her knees and arranged her legs so they draped over his shoulders and down his back. Her heels settled on either side of his spine. Using his thumbs to part her, he got his first good look at her secrets. Her blushing petals were a lighter shade than what he’d seen from other women, but they glistened with her excitement and bloomed nice and plump. Barely cresting out of its hood, her clit was equally delicate and begged for his touch. When her sweet personal scent reached his nose, he actually felt himself salivate. Gods, he needed to taste her.
Dipping his head, he puckered his lips around her little button first, holding her still when she jolted and whimpered. Then his tongue came out to lollipop her, and he reached up to roll her pale pink nipples ever so gently between his fingertips.
“Whitt.” She gasped.
The sound of his name falling from her lips was so perfect. He had her right where he wanted her with her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, and that glorious platinum hair of hers spread across the covers. Firming his tongue to form a wedge, he slid it down through her folds until the tip poked her entrance and slid partway in. With his chin buried just above her buttocks, he speared her more deeply and got his first true taste of her.
Spri mewled when his blissful groan vibrated through her, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Her flavor was like ambrosia—a swig of intoxicating pheromones that reminded him of the rice wine they’d had earlier. The salty undertone and the slickness of her beneath his lips and tongue made him think of the oysters all over again. He suddenly felt famished.
Sucking hard, he set up a driving rhythm, alternating between her clit and her opening. Her scent spiraled through his head as he drank her in until she was almost thrashing beneath him. This was what he wanted. He wanted to make her as wild and out of control as she’d made him, to bring her off with the same unstoppable momentum. Judging by the way her thighs squeezed his ears, she had to be close.