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It was just after 11pm that the Prime Minister approached the spacecraft. The gates to the segregation area were wide open, it being rather pointless to try and maintain security at this stage.
Why he came, and why he came alone without telling anyone where he was going, he really was not sure. Certainly it seemed to him that failure to find a workable solution would most likely spell the end of his political career. Certainly Susan had been absolutely right in pointing out that discussions with others involved would make it much more difficult to talk openly and freely, but equally certainly there was something more. He felt uncomfortable as he thought about it, with an uncertain nagging in the back of his mind that all he had done by coming alone was to have given way to a subconscious desire to be alone with her.
He was met by the ramp of the spacecraft not by Susan herself but by two tall women, even taller than most of the aliens.
“The Leader awaits you in her quarters,” said one of them formally, and started to lead the way inside.
With one of them in front and one behind him, the Prime Minister felt very small as they took him through the corridors. There was no one else in sight, yet at each turn they slowed and looked around carefully before proceeding. Almost as is, thought the Prime Minister, they were frightened of being seen. This thought was confirmed when, after a few minutes, there was someone else far down the long passage in front of them.
Without a word the two women stopped, so suddenly that the Prime Minister bumped into the one ahead of him. The woman behind him grasped his shoulders to keep him from moving to either side, and pushed him up against the back of the woman in front. He was sandwiched between them, squeezed up against them, and virtually invisible to anyone more than a few feet away as he was pressed into their tall, wide bodies. The three stood motionless until the woman they had spotted in the distance had disappeared through one of the many doors leading off the passage.
As they continued, the Prime Minister was uncomfortably aware of the effect being pressed against them had had on him. He hoped they had not noticed.
They stopped at a door, knocked, and it opened. The Prime Minister could see no one inside, but the two women gently pushed him forward. The door closed behind him. He appeared to be on his own.
“I have been ‘surfing the Internet’ to find out more about human habits and idioms,” came Susan’s voice from the far corner of the room. She was there with her back to him, wearing dark coloured clothes – the first time the Prime Minister had seen any of the alien women dressed in anything other than the bright pink suits. She turned round on her chair and looked at him.
“Ah,” she said with a smile on her face, “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?”
“Really, Susan,” he said, somewhat displeased, “We have serious matters to discuss.”
She nodded in agreement. “Very serious,” she agreed, not taking her eyes off the bulge in his trousers.
Realising just where she was looking did nothing to reduce his embarrassment or arousal. The bulge grew.
“First,” he said, determined to focus on business, “We need to put a stop to all these men being off work for a month at a time. It’s wrecking our whole society.”
“That’s easy,” she said without looking up, “Our women are skilled, and have total recall and understanding of almost any job in your society. Each time we take a man, one of our women will replace him at his work until he returns. The Choosers can arrange it. I will instruct them.”
She broke her gaze away from the front of his trousers and pressed a few keys on her computer.
“It’s done,” she said. “I have given instructions.”
Her eyes returned to him.
“So now we can discuss my research,” she said enthusiastically.
“What research is that?” he asked.
“I told you. I have been ‘surfing’ your Internet and finding out about human habits. I am very impressed by your range of sexual activities. I did not expect any race to have such a variety.”
She stood up and walked towards him. She wore a long black garment of a very fine mesh, which shimmered as she moved. It flowed round her like a loose-fitting nightdress, yet it clung and outlined the shape of her body perfectly. She seemed to move within it, her breasts and her legs having an independent life of their own, while at the same time no part of her looked out of place nor anything more or less than a perfectly-formed woman. As she came closer and the light was behind her, the outline of her body was clearly visible through the thin material.
She stood in front of him.
“You find me attractive, don’t you Tony?”
“Of course I do,” he answered positively, “But we have more important matters to worry about. In any case,” he felt himself blushing slightly at the mere thought of it, “I quite simply can’t afford a month out of action.”
He took a pace backwards.
She smiled at him. “No, Tony. We could not mate, although it is not for that reason. I am a Leader and the Choosers would not allow it. You know what would happen, I think.”
He did know, and the picture of Terry Flynn came vividly into his mind, in pain with his genitals locked inescapably inside that woman for six days, and being carried away to be restrained by the group of alien women.
And yet, much as the image was frightening, horrifying, there was something exciting, sexually exciting in it. The Prime Minister pushed that thought out of his mind even as he felt his groin twitch involuntarily.
She saw the twitch and read his thoughts. “It would not be like that,” she said. “If I initiated the mating without the Choosers’ approval then the pain would be mine as much as yours. That is how our bodies work: they allow us pleasure only within strict limits. In any case, you recall only the parts of the memory that fit into your own deeper fantasies. The pain, real pain, is not a part of them.”
“But,” she went on, “There is more to consider. The Choosers deal with contact between sexual organs. You know as well as I do there can be much more to pleasure than that, and so many ways to gain that pleasure.”
She was close to him now, very close, and he felt her sexuality as though it washed over him. They touched, lightly, her long garment swishing against his clothes. The bulge of her breasts brushed his face, and her hips thrust forward, briefly, pressing the swelling under his trousers and pulling away again as quickly as she touched.
His head swam, and he would have fallen forward if she had not caught him in her arms. He rested there against her chest, unsteady on his feet and completely under her spell. Not that there was any magic other than that of completely natural attraction between a man and a woman. ‘An excess of natural attraction’ he thought vaguely, and was happy with that thought.
He turned his head in towards her body, into the soft chasm between her perfect breasts. He felt the flimsy material covering her sink inwards before his mouth and nose, and the press of soft flesh under it pushing his cheeks.
He felt her hands on his waist, on his hips. He felt his body turned slightly sideways away from her, and her hand touching, cautiously, down the front of his trousers. His hips pushed towards her hand as he felt her other hand on his belt, his buttons, his zip. His trousers fell to the floor, but she was pushing off his jacket, undoing his shirt buttons and easing the shirt from his arms before her hands were on both sides of his underpants.
She eased them all the way down, bending her knees and ending up kneeling in front of him. He felt her lips on him, her teeth, then the soft warmth of her tongue and the depths of her mouth. He moaned with pleasure, running his hands through her long hair. His knees wobbled and his legs started to give way as the sensations she created in him were more than he could stand.
Abruptly she stopped and stood up. With one easy motion she swept his legs from under him and carried him to the bed. She sat him on the edge, and hoisting her black garment up to the tops of her legs she too clambered onto the bed and lay down on her back with her feet towards him.
“Kiss me,” she said.
He kissed her feet, then her leg. She sighed contentedly at the feel of his lips on her, moving her legs apart slightly. He ran his tongue up the inside of one leg, pausing at the knee. She shivered with anticipation, and ever so slowly he continued up her thigh.
He stopped, near the top and just below the shimmering material of her black garment. He raised his head and looked at her questioningly.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh yes. Kiss me there. Kiss me there, and when you’ve finished I shall kiss you like you’re never been kissed before.”
Her legs moved further apart as he touched her under the raised black, mesh garment, then squeezed gently round his face and ears. She moaned softly as his tongue and lips found the places that he knew produced such pleasure for any woman. She was no different. To his exploring tongue she was exactly the same as any human woman and her size without any fat simply enhanced the pleasure for both of them.
He buried his face against her, pushing his tongue into her. He felt the slight pressure from her legs on the sides of his head cease as she stretched wide at the perfect pleasure he gave her. Her hands reached down onto the back of his head, pressing him against her as her hips bucked and writhed so that all he could see, taste and smell was her wonderful, wet flesh. Her muscles rippled as she approached climax.
She covered his face completely as she moaned with pleasure, her hands holding his head into her. By the time he realised what was happening, it was too late. It had completely covered his face, spread under his chin, over the top of his head, and as she lifted her hands it encased the back of his head and encircled his neck tightly.
He tried to pull away, and then to scream. No sound came out as it pressed firmly against his mouth and nose, moulding itself to the shape of his face and head, and gripping inescapably. Without loosening its grip it started to retract, pulling his whole head up between her legs and into her. For a moment he felt his whole head being crushed between her hips, then he was inside her. Again he tried desperately to pull away, and felt the pressure on his neck tighten and start to choke him. Ripples of muscle contractions ran through the fleshy sack that held and squeezed him inside her, pushing her towards a second climax. He was held tight, the rubbery fleshiness against his mouth, his nose, his eyes, and perfectly moulded to the contours of his head. There was no air. He could not breath, and as he frantically attempted to draw breath all he found was the damp, clinging flesh that rippled, pulsed and gripped at him.
As the spasms of her climax tightened on him, he lost consciousness.
