I shouldn’t be alive. I have a spacey feeling, as though I might not actually be.
“Stay with me.” His big green hand covers mine, bringing me back to the present moment. I am alive. I am here. With him.
“I need to get that suit off you.”
“You don’t. You could scan me without needing to see my bare skin. You must have the technology.”
“Technology is no substitute for simple sight and touch.”
“I’m fine. I really am. If I wasn’t, I’d be in pain.”
“Pain is a funny thing,” he says. “Sometimes you don’t notice it. Sometimes it can feel like pleasure. Sometimes it is absent when it should be present. And sometimes things hurt terribly when there seems to be no reason for them at all. That’s why I need to see.”
I put my fingers to the neck of my suit. I know on some level that if I take it off, I’m done. It’s over. I won’t be who I was. I’ll be someone else. I’ll be his.
“Good girl. Take it off. That’s right.”
I draw it down, slowly. It’s not supposed to be a teasing thing. I’m just hesitant. What will he think when he sees me? What if he turns on me like the monsters out there did? What if he can’t help but ravage me right here in this cozy spaceship which only makes him look oversized and muscular in comparison to the little details and knick-knacks on the shelves.
My body is exposed inexorably, my skin bared to his alien view. I wear no underwear beneath the suit. It’s better not to. Allows the wicking fabric to draw away moisture directly from the skin.
* * *
Zed
There she is. My prize is unwrapping herself for me with those deliciously hesitant eyes. She could genuinely be hurt. She should, by all rights, be hurt. Her ship came down at an angle no ship could ever recover from, and yet she is here. It seems like a miracle, as do the smooth lines of her body, the gentle curves and the soft swells revealed to me. I thought I might find something of value on the planet. I never imagined it would be anyone this valuable. I don’t know whether to think about all the money I am going to make, or how incredibly attractive this human being is. There is not a mark on her skin, not from the impact of the crash anyway.
“All the way off,” I say, taking over to help peel it from her arms and her legs. There is a rush of scent when the gusset of the suit peels away from her sex. I smell her womanhood, her delicate femininity melting into the air. She has been reacting with need to something lately. Perhaps she’s turned on by crash landings. Or maybe it is the effect of baring her completely naked from head to toe.
There are bruises forming on her legs and her arms, but they are lighter than I would expect from a crash and they fit with the profile of one of the oversized brutes who was attempting to eat-fuck her back on the planet’s surface.
“You seem to be largely unharmed,” I say.
“The suits prevent us from taking damage in a crash,” she explains, blushing adorably. “Can I put it back on?”
“Not yet.”
I pull a scanner from the first aid kit. This ship might look like a traveling retirement home, but I’ve made sure it is stocked with everything I need. In my line of work, injuries are inevitable. Trading is not a career for the faint of heart. You have to deal with unsatisfied customers from time to time, including ones who specifically buy things in order to be angered by them. One of my best-selling lines is a cake that punches you in the face if you try to eat it. It was designed to help those who wanted to pursue a healthier diet, a sort of aversion therapy. But nowadays it’s mostly purchased by those who want something to complain about. The reviews are as bad as the sales are good. But I mentally digress. This human in front of me, she is no face-punching cake. She is an object of pure delight.
“Hold still,” I tell her. “Let’s see how you’re really doing.”
She takes a breath and freezes in place. Nothing moves besides her nipples, which stiffen into two peaks. I don’t think she has control over them. That’s an automatic response, as is the sweet flush of new arousal between her thighs. This little human female likes to do as she is told. Actually, that may be too much of an assumption. She likes being told what to do; whether she is generally obedient is a matter yet to be determined.
The scanner reveals nothing. It’s just static on the screen, and an error code: H0M1N.