8. Hugo

As I was going through puberty I’d still managed to be a model student. I’d bitten back the mood swings. I’d hidden every part of me that wasn’t palatable. I’d let my true feelings wither and die with a smile on my face. All because I knew that along with the hormones, acne, and frustration I’d be gifted with my parents’ ire if I didn’t.

I barely had their attention as it was.

Mom was too preoccupied with her own life to worry about how mine was going. And Dad spent more time with a bottle in his hand, or alone with his secretary, than he did with me. On the few rare occasions we were all together, the only thing either of them talked about were my academic accomplishments. I was a talking report card to them, but even that felt better than the icy silence of our usually empty home.

Realistically, deep down, I’d known the way they treated me wasn’t fair. But it was the only life I’d ever known. I spent so much time invisible that the last thing I wanted was to lose what little love and pride they felt for me.

I’d been everything they wanted me to be and I’d still ended up here. Abducted by aliens, rescued by more aliens, sitting in the darkness as my new owner lay peacefully beside me in bed.

You’d think I’d be mad about that last part but I wasn’t.

Because there was no denying Roark was…yeah.

Roark was unlike anyone I’d ever met.

After we’d eaten dinner together and Roark and I took our separate showers, we’d retired to bed. Since Roark had come home for the evening I’d been trying to psych myself up to hit on him again.

But I just…didn’t know how to cross that line.

It wasn’t like I’d been a Casanova back home. I’d been a loser and that was the honest truth. Even after working on F’ukYuu it was difficult to wrap my head around the idea that someone might want to actually touch me.

Roark had said no to me the first time we’d met, and I’d internalized that probably more than I should’ve. The last thing I wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want, just because I did.

Did he like what we’d done the previous day? Had I twisted it around in my head and imagined he was happier about it than he’d actually been? It hadn’t helped that he’d been gone earlier than usual that morning. And that he’d been downright respectful over breakfast. I’d half-expected him to…you know—yank my pants off or something. Especially after we’d fallen asleep in the same bed the night before. But that hadn’t happened.

In fact… nothing seemed to be different at all.

Maybe I’d imagined grinding on him?

Way to gaslight yourself, Hugo.

No.

No.

It was real.

And he liked it.

I’d seen his eyes. The way they flashed black with heat. I’d felt his touch. Felt the way he desired me. There had been a bulge in his pants, far thicker than anything I would’ve encountered on Earth—I hadn’t made that up. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that bit, honestly, only that the curious part of me really wanted to pull his pants down and peek.

The nanobots and technology in Roark’s living quarters had been a solid enough distraction while he’d been gone for work—but even they hadn’t been able to claim all of my attention. I hadn’t thought about escaping the room since the previous night, too preoccupied with thoughts of taking Roark to bed again to think about anything else.

I just…I just wanted to have him one more time.

Was that…

Was that bad?

I hoped not.

Maybe it would lead somewhere serious, maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe Roark would decide he didn’t want to keep me around anymore after he found out I was a sex fiend who was after his space-dick.

But maybe…maybe he wouldn’t?

There was only one way to find out.

Like with any good science experiment, trial and error were the only way to get an answer.

Roark was relaxed—and I figured now was as good of a time as any to ogle. If he wanted to stop me, he could. And if he didn’t…we could see where this led.

I twisted inside his arms, wiggling as covertly as possible to get a better look at him. Roark’s chest rose and fell with steady breaths. Up and down, whoosh, whoosh. His thick belly looked particularly delicious from this angle. Comfortable. The perfect size for me to fuck against till my dick spilled.

There wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t sexy as fuck.

Why the hell would he want me ?

Roark made an inquisitive sound and I froze. A beat passed. Then two. Nothing bad happened and he didn’t admonish me for staring. He didn’t even open his eyes. I relaxed, studying his shirtless form with hunger.

He was just so… different .

His pink skin, soft to the touch, more gelatinous than solid—was nothing like mine. He may be human-shaped but the way his limbs could shapeshift made that similarity feel moot.

And his teeth. Goddamn. Hundreds of them. Teeth I’d discovered were meant not for ripping flesh—like I’d hypothesized—but for crunching through bark and other hard plants. That’s right. The shark-like man was a fucking vegetarian .

His size was another notable difference between us.

I’d never in all my life seen someone as large as Roark. He was easily double my mass. A single one of his hands could nearly wrap around my entire waist. I could admit I’d spent an unhealthy amount of time imagining just that.

By all rights, I shouldn’t be attracted to him.

I shouldn’t want him the way I did.

Shouldn’t want to explore him, or learn what he liked, or ogle the cock I’d thought I’d get to touch all those weeks ago. But now that I’d decided what I wanted there was no stopping myself.

The only path I had led forward.

Reaching for the hem of his sleep pants as slowly as I possibly could, my heart climbed into my throat. He’ll say no if he doesn’t want this, I reminded myself. Wasn’t like I was going to do anything untoward without his permission—I just wanted a peek at what kinda monster cock he was packing in there. I needed to prepare.

Besides, I’d seen worse in locker rooms.

Our dicks had to be different, right?

The biologist in me needed to know.

The elastic gave easily beneath my fingers as I pulled it back, peeking inside the dark depths beneath it to sate my curiosity. I barely got a glimpse of the shadowy shape of Roark’s cock before he made a primal, grunt-y sort of noise and the world spun. Suddenly I was on my back, my breath escaping in a quiet whoosh.

I blinked away the daze as Roark purred, his chest vibrating with the force of it as he bracketed me on the bed with his massive arms, his soft belly rubbing against my crotch. I wasn’t hard, but I would be soon if he kept that up.

His eyes were black.

His spots were red.

His teeth were bared.

His chest heaved .

He was powerful and terrifying and god…so fucking hot. If he sneezed wrong he could kill me. Like—that should not be so sexy. But it was. All that strength, and he somehow managed to be more gentle with me than anyone I’d ever met.

“Huu-goh,” Roark rasped, and it didn’t sound like an admonishment. It sounded hungry . His hands shifted around my wrists, squeezing, once, twice, before they changed, the solid form giving way as thousands of tiny little tentacles crept around my wrists. They writhed and squeezed, the warm squishy texture making me instantly hard.

Jesus fuck.

“Roark,” I wiggled a little to test the give of my bonds—only to find I was thoroughly stuck. My heart skipped a beat as butterflies exploded inside my belly. What was going to happen next? Did red spots mean he was mad? I’d figured out they changed with his mood but I was still getting a handle on what each color meant.

“Huu-goh,” Roark murmured, voice hoarse. He ducked his head down, his snout rubbing against the side of my neck slow and easy, and my entire body trembled. Shit. Ugh. The rubbery, almost spongy texture of his skin felt so fucking weird but good. His head was less squishy than the rest of him, though I imagined he felt similar to what a beluga whale would feel like. Kinda rubbery? Soft.

I shivered.

“Huu-goh yesh?”

“What?” It took me a second to realize Roark was speaking in English.

His nose rubbed against me again and my toes curled when I felt the steadily growing swell of his cock pressing against mine through the dual layers of our sleep pants. Damn, that thing was massive. I wished I’d gotten a better look at it.

“Yesh?” he repeated, struggling through the S sound because of his teeth.

“Oh.” My head spun. Yes. He was saying yes . Did that mean he wanted more too? “Yes?” The tiny tentacles around my wrists squeezed, rubbing against me in a way that shouldn’t have been as tantalizing as it was. I should be fucking terrified. At least, if I was a sane person. Which I clearly was not. Because instead of shrinking beneath the bulk of this absolute beast of a man—I was running victory laps in my head.

Because serious, stoic, quiet Roark had finally snapped.

Because of me .

It felt like a zillion tiny ropes tickling all my nerve endings at once as the tentacles swirled and squished snug around my wrist. They tested the give, squeezing tight enough for a moment it almost hurt—before loosening at the same time I released a broken exhale.

Holy fuck.

“Roark yes?” I replied, my dick becoming fully hard so fast it gave me dick-lash.

“ Yesh ,” Roark agreed, his breath huffing in my ear. I hadn’t realized I was so sensitive there. Not till his tongue flickered out through the row of razor-sharp fangs, long and dexterous, and he traced my ear with it. His movements were clumsy and imperfect, but I loved them all the same.

I spread my legs and Roark made the most beautiful, pleased little rumble. I didn’t need to understand him to know what that meant. Like a big cat with a mouse tucked right between his paws. Roark’s approval made my blood sing as I tested my bonds, just to feel the tendrils contract enough to hurt again.

I wanted to see his dick so bad.

Even more so now that I could feel it, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing against mine. Growing thicker and bigger by the second. Like he was as turned on by this as I was. Like he liked having me pinned beneath him, immobile. Like the fact I trusted him enough to give him this was getting him off without having to take his dick out at all.

“ Please ,” I begged, done with the games.

Roark made that same soothing purring sound he always did, his slippery tongue snaking over my jaw and down my neck, leaving a trail of gooseflesh and saliva in its wake. His spit grew cold as it dried, and the dual sensation of that wicked hot tongue laving down my sternum with the brisk chill that accompanied it had my head spinning anew.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped when Roark’s tongue found my nipples. He paused.

I could see why.

His were different than mine. I wasn’t really sure why he had them in the first place—because his were just flat little circles with no nub to tease at all.

Careful of his teeth, Roark’s tongue rubbed over one of my nipples curiously, back and forth. It felt different than it had when his tentacles had touched me there. Because this was him, plain and simple. And his eagerness was getting me off almost more than the slick twist of his tongue.

That in itself was freaky as fuck though.

And so amazing, oh my god.

When the tip of his tongue twisted around one, giving it a sharp tug, it felt like my body was being electrocuted. My hips jerked upward, my chest pushing toward him begging for more. His tongue was so hot it nearly burned. And the longer he played with my chest, the more puffy my nipples became.

When I glanced down at them, and got a glimpse of his tongue twisting and pulling, I nearly came.

Roark gave my other nipple the same treatment, exploring me. His actions were inquisitive, and his spots were so red they were nearly fluorescent. Roark’s eyes were a ravenous black. There was a calculating gleam to them too—like he was memorizing my reactions and saving the information for later.

Creating a whole new list in his head.

What things make Hugo tick.

When Roark’s mouth moved lower and he stuck his tongue into my belly button, I thrashed.

“Tickles!” I hissed through my teeth, only to be met with the strangest reaction from him yet. He laughed. Laughed ! My favorite sound ever. Like a dog’s bark, rough and sharp, but charming all the same. His eyes squinted into crescent-like shapes that I realized meant he was smiling. A true smile. The kind that warms you from your head to your toes.

I loved it.

I loved it a lot.

I’d seen it before, but it felt different in this situation.

Intimate.

Roark—because he was a sexy shithead—immediately flicked his tongue into my belly button again. I jolted, joining him in his laughter this time as his tongue slithered back between his teeth. My cock was hard. Super hard. Painfully hard.

There was something about the snap of his fangs that made me feel weak with lust.

Roark shook his head in amusement at me, like I’d done all of this to distract him, even though he’d been the one teasing me, not the other way around.

In retaliation, I kicked the back of his thigh to urge him to keep grinding. Roark’s amusement died a swift death, and his eyes darkened again at the same time he made another one of those animalistic noises. Maybe my thrashing made him see me as prey?

Holy fuck.

More tendrils shot from his arms, reaching down to wrap tight around my thighs. Like a fucked-up version of a spiderweb. Trapping me in place. Holding me exactly where he wanted me so I couldn’t kick again. They squeezed into the meat of my legs as he tested the give of my muscle with a pleased little purr.

Roark’s tongue slithered lower still, toying with the hem of my pajamas before dipping beneath it. The slippery, pointy tip traced the head of my dick beneath the fabric. There was no way to describe just how good it felt to be touched there like that. The texture of his tongue was seriously fucking awesome, all ropey, searing, and slick.

“Nng,” I sobbed.

Oh fuck.

Jesus—

God—

Precum squirted out of my dick. My balls drew up tight as Roark twisted the tip of his tongue around the crown of my cock, then flicked it into my slit to taste the mess he’d caused me to make. His eyes flickered, and he growled . This was different from his other growls, though. This was threatening .

Like I’d broken the part of him that was studiously in control.

Like he wanted me to leak some more so he could taste it again.

More tendrils, these ones larger, pushed past the hem of my pants, their wiggly lengths teasing along the seam of my groin. I hissed out a ragged breath, a little nervous but still excited as Roark paused, the pointed top of one tendril rubbing at the sensitive skin behind my balls.

I’d gone my whole life without being touched, so this was pretty surreal even without the tendrils and teeth.

“Huu-goh, yesh?” he repeated, his voice hoarse. The tendril twitched, like it couldn’t help itself. Like it wanted in as badly as he did.

“Yes,” I panted. Roark grinned in response, a feral sort of thing. Young. Eager. With a practiced motion, all at once, the tiny tendrils that had wrapped around my thighs released, even the one I’d been certain was going to head right for my ass. I felt naked for all of two seconds without them encasing my body—before Roark dragged my pants down—and the tendrils rushed forward again.

They squeezed my bare thighs, like they’d forgotten how they felt in those few short seconds. The way they stroked over my leg hair was an odd sensation, but not a bad one. I liked it almost as much as being trapped. I was on a journey of self-discovery today and loving every second of it.

Encased in a sticky pink cocoon again, I could do nothing but lay immobile, my bare dick pointing right at Roark.

My cock strained, balls pulled up tight as I took a moment to admire the alien above me. His chest and belly trembled with labored breaths, his black eyes swirling with emotion. Roark’s spots were a vibrant, desperate red.

Lust.

My brain connected.

Red spots probably mean lust.

It seemed so obvious now.

A drop of precum slipped from the tip of my cock onto my belly, and as Roark’s tentacles twisted tight around my wrists and thighs I ached for more. I’d wanted to see his dick, and I still hadn’t gotten the chance to properly do that.

I bucked my hips as best as I could, straining toward him so he’d get the hint.

“Nnngh,” I hissed out as one of the tiny tendrils around my thighs separated from the rest and slunk along the length of my dick. It curled just beneath the crown, contracting until I began to tingle all over. The more it constricted, the more I began to leak.

Like it was milking me.

Roark made a satisfied sound, wringing me tighter and encouraging more of the pearly white substance to slip free. He murmured something that sounded complimentary, like he was as pleased by this turn of events as I was.

Smug now that he had me entirely at his mercy, Roark ducked lower, his hot breath caressing my belly. My abs tensed. God, he was so fucking close to my dick. He was going to lick it again, wasn’t he? I needed him to.

Now that I’d gotten a taste of what that felt like it was all I wanted.

As Roark stuck his tongue out, slow and deliberate, I stared dumbly down at him. My vision was fuzzy with lust as he rubbed his tongue through the mess I was making on my stomach. He was so close. God. Jesus. Just a few inches and he’d?—

Roark moaned, a throaty sort of sound, savoring my taste as the tiny tendril continued to wring my cock for more.

“Fuck,” I hissed, clenching my jaw as another drop of precum escaped. How was he doing this? It didn’t even seem possible. I’d never been this hard in my life. Never wanted something more than I wanted that tongue on me.

Sticky, wet—Roark lapped over my belly, making my abs jump over and over as he savored my cum. It was so goddamn filthy I could barely wrap my mind around the fact it was happening—and to me of all people. This belonged on a porn site behind a paywall, not in my very real life. It was too fucking good. My balls drew tight and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my body not to come too early.

I wanted this to last.

Wanted to feel his tongue on my dick before I orgasmed.

Who knew if it would happen again?

I needed to remember this.

To memorize it.

To memorize the way Roark’s scent filled my nose, apple-like and sweet. The way his tendrils held me tight, so all I could do was enjoy what he decided to give me. He was huge. So fucking huge. This massive, gorgeous creature. A perfect combination of the familiar and unfamiliar. So gentle, yet carnal all the same.

I wasn’t sure what had changed, why he felt so inclined to touch me now when he’d all but ignored my body for a month. But I didn’t complain. It felt so?—

“Oh shit fuck, fuck, fuck—” My head tossed back as his tongue finally—oh god, finally—slithered around the length of my dick. It was long and dexterous, and I would’ve been amused by the way he was testing my texture and shape like he was memorizing it, if I hadn’t been gasping like a fish out of water.

Fireworks exploded behind my eyelids as my back bowed and cum shot right into Roark’s waiting mouth.

He growled , and I was spinning, spinning, spinning. But he didn’t stop. He just kept slurping and pulling, slurping and pulling. The frankly obscene noise echoed through the room as my dick struggled to rise to the occasion. To keep spilling, even though it was empty.

“I can’t, I can’t—” I chanted, overstimulated and breathless as the wet muscle sucked around me. “I can’t, I can’t.”

And still, he milked me.

Milked me so tight and snug that a few minutes later he’d managed to jerk my cock to hardness again despite the oversensitivity. My chest was shuddering. I could hardly get a coherent thought to form in my head as Roark pulled back. Settling above me, his head framed by the stars on the ceiling, Roark deliberately licked his lips.

Jesus fuck.

I couldn’t help but groan.

“Please,” I whined, jerking my hips upward, my body a sweaty mess. “I want your dick.” No, that wasn’t right. “I need it.” My hips humped up again and Roark chuckled—or whatever his approximation of a chuckle was—it was a dark rumbly sort of sound, like my desperation both pleased and amused him. Apparently he didn’t need to understand what I was saying to know that I was begging.

My ass clenched and his tendrils sucked harder around my wrists and thighs, the ones at the crease of my groin beginning to tap at my balls. Tap, tap, tap. My eyes rolled back.

My dick was so hard it hurt, despite having just come.

Roark released one of my wrists, only for his other limb—limbs?—to replace it, tying my two wrists together above my head in a sticky pink knot. Meanwhile, his free hand formed once again and he pushed down the hem of his own pants.

“Fucking finally,” I gasped, straining to see what I was sure was a monster cock between his legs.

I…wasn’t wrong.

It was monstrous alright.

Just not in the way I’d expected.

And there were two of them.

Two cocks.

If you could call them that. Rather than human-esque dicks, two fat, flushed purple tentacles with suckers down their lengths nestled between Roark’s legs. They had thick bases and flared, tapered tips that pointed in my direction, almost like they were reaching for me. They writhed and danced, winding together. A filthy slurping sound filled the air as they rubbed their suckers against each other, a slick viscous fluid glistening along their lengths.

I was suddenly breathless all over again.

Shocked and intrigued.

The biologist in me reawakened.

Tentacle dicks.

Two of them.

Roark wrapped his thick fist around them, squeezing them with a sharp inhale as more fluid leaked free, wetting his fingertips. I forgot about his other tendrils immediately. Holding impossibly still, I watched enthralled as his cocks danced and jerked, still reaching for me like they had a mind of their own.

Oh fuck.

Maybe they did?

Maybe there was something wrong with me.

Because I wanted those inside me. On me. Around me. Wanted to feel the suckers leave hickeys all over my dick. Wanted to rut between them and let them squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and?—

“Uhhhh.” All thoughts left my head. Brain officially on vacation. No communicado. Because Roark’s tentacle-dicks were touching me now. Threading around my cock. Suckers pulling at the skin, just like I’d wanted. “Uhh,” I gasped again, throat bobbing as I tossed my head back against the sheets. Roark’s cocks threaded tighter around my own.

They felt almost feverish, they were so warm. Far wetter than they appeared as they squelched a naughty sound, suckers pulling at my dick in a rhythmic pulse. A steady beat throbbed as they toyed with me. What was better though, was the way Roark rutted against my body, his teeth bared.

All his usual control was gone.

And instead, he was a beast looking to breed.

Fat tentacles overwhelmed my dick, slurping me deep inside their tight, sticky embrace as my brain melted out my ears. It was about that point that I realized why the hell people had been obsessed with sex since the beginning of time.

Pink alien dick was officially the best thing that had ever happened to me.

There was no way in hell this would be the only time we did this.

Nuh-uh.

Our hips slapped together and my toes curled. Roark’s smaller tendrils twisted tighter around my groin, creeping into my crease. They wanted to scout out the new territory. For the first time in my life I didn’t have the brain power to process what was going on. All my atoms felt spread thin.

I came a second time with a howl the moment one of the tiny fingerlike tendrils circled my hole, clenching down tight as Roark’s left cock sucked my cum out through my slit with its suckers.

A few more desperate thrusts later and Roark came too. I could tell because the corded muscles in his neck tensed as he did so, his breath leaving him in a drawn-out hiss as fluid slicked up my twitchy, overstimulated dick. There was so fucking much of it. It soaked my belly and thighs, and clung to my leg hair. It was the first time I’d seen him orgasm. I got the feeling he’d never done this with anyone else, despite his enthusiasm.

The tendrils at my hole retreated to my relief and disappointment.

Even though they were no longer so insistent, Roark’s cocks remained hard enough to wiggle, stroking through the fiery hair at the base of my dick, petting over my balls and shaft like they wanted to taste the sweat and feel its texture. His balls were heavy against my own.

There wasn’t a hair on Roark’s entire body, so I could understand their curiosity.

Damn.

Cocks with their own motivation.

Holy shit.

This was amazing.

This was all so amazing.

Everything about this.

Roark purred, that happy pleased rumble he only used when he knew he’d done something I liked.

Then he flopped down beside me, careful not to squash me with his bulk as his tendrils untwisted from my wrists and began stroking them tenderly, bringing them down my body and rubbing the circulation back into them. Both his hands reformed and he petted over my chest, giving each of my nipples a cursory pinch. They didn’t stay there long, however, diving low to cup my messy dick and balls together in his massive hand, claws tapping at my perineum before he withdrew and gently pulled my pants back over my limp dick.

I felt wrung out, exhausted and mind-blown, visions of tentadicks meaty and dexterous flashing behind my lids as I turned to him and sleepily reached out to lay a hand on his giant squishy pec. I groped it and he barked out another soft laugh, though his hand moved to cup the back of mine, and he held me in place. I didn’t even care that I was sticky, I was so happy.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

I could feel twin heartbeats resonating through his body as I flashed him a sleepy sated grin, and he smiled right back. Twin hearts, to match his twin dicks.

Symmetry.

“You’re a fucking genius,” I told him, even though I knew he wouldn’t understand. “A sex wizard.”

Roark nuzzled my cheek affectionately.

Maybe I was his pet, but at that moment, I didn’t fucking care. I was too fucked out, and too happy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it had gotten me alien dick, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.