Tempted by Celestial Bodies

2

“But you are a human male,” Nuj says as if it’s a fact. Behind them, their tail lashes, which I recognize as a signal of curiosity.

Explaining transgenderism to a person wholly unfamiliar with gender as a concept is not the sexiest way to spend our time together, so I rush through the rest. “I was born female, but I was uncomfortable with how that felt. So I changed some things, and now I feel better.”

After another moment of contemplation, Nuj says, “There are plenty of species who change sex.” Then they fold, dropping to their knees.

Tucking their thick toes in the space between my ankles, Nuj wraps their tail around themself, the tip slithering up the bottom of my pant leg. Their upper body twists, breastbone arching in a manner that would be impossible for an earth herptile, neck bending out of the way so they can see-smell my response. My face reddens both when I’m flustered and when I’m turned on, and right now I’m both, so I must look like a damned spectacle. Hopefully my approach—less smooth sailing and more floundering shipwreck—still manages to inspire arousal.

I consider Nuj with stunned wonderment and a bit of unavoidable discomfort at the unsettling anatomical positioning. The foreign visual further increases my excitement. Palms hot, pressed flat against the cool surface of the metal wall, I try to shake my hair out of my face so I can see better. Nuj smiles, shifting until their head looks dislocated on their neck—and pushes my bangs back for me.

I lose interest in musing on how I look when they lean in, allowing the tiniest edge of their teeth to intimidate the hollow beside my hipbone. The area is unbearably sensitive; I buck in terror so sharp it’s nearly painful, arousal surging to ripe agony.

“I liked that,” Nuj says, like we’re having a normal conversation, and repeats it with more insistence.

Screaming in pleasure might still trigger the distress sensors, so I cover my mouth and bite into the meat of my palm. Nuj continues working their mouth around that soft, vulnerable skin, right above the waistband of my uniform pants, and that’s when I feel their radia pat around between my legs. They know I have something erogenous in that area, but haven’t yet found where stimulation will reduce me to dust.

Anticipatory, I yank the zipper of my pants, forgetting that there’s an inner latch so that when I try to tug my fly open and fail, I let out an embarrassingly distressed sound.

Nuj must know how pants work, because they calmly bat my hands away, gentle like a warm ocean current, and perfunctorily unfasten the clasp. I want to shove the pants to my ankles, but I also want to see what they’ll do, so I make what might be a risky move and set my hands on the top of their head, stroking chipped-gemstone scales. Doing so seems to be the right move, when Nuj rubs their temple into my palm and makes a chittering sound that registers as their own pleasure.

I shudder when they lave their tongue up the inside of my wrist. “You’re so fun to play with, Chance,” Nuj informs me. Then they peel away the front panels of my pants, pushing them down to my knees, exposing my undergarments. Their radia prods the squishy material of my packer, held in place by my tight boxer briefs.

Another thing I forgot.

“This is human male anatomy?” The confusion in their voice has me realizing they’ve probably never seen a penis before—at least not a human one.

“An imitation of one, yeah. But let’s not talk about it any further, alright?”

Nuj huffs a quiet laugh. “Acknowledged.” Regaining control of the situation, they guide the stretchy material down my thighs, then arch to inspect the offerings of my crotch.

I keep my body hair trimmed, so the view of my testosterone-thickened clit is unobstructed, though I prefer to call it a cock nowadays. I’m near-embarrassingly wet, enough to feel slick between my thighs when I shift. Uncomfortable with my restrictive, disheveled clothing, I awkwardly toe off my shoes, then squirm out of my lower garments, leaving me in just my unbuttoned shirt when I straighten. I stand there, cunt fully exposed, and wait for Nuj’s next move.

In a way, we’re playing a game after all, except unlike chess it lacks defined rules. Flying blind—quite literally, in Nuj’s case.

After drawing in a deep breath—fuck, are they smelling me?—Nuj smiles. “Very interesting, Chance Landfall. May I touch?”

A giddy laugh bursts from me. “Please. Please. ”

I’m so turned on I might combust. I have no idea what to expect, but when their tongue slides up my inner thigh to wiggle up inside me, I just about die.

I try to be gentle as I cup my fingers against the back of Nuj’s head, dragging them closer while cautious of nicking myself on their teeth. Nuj seems unperturbed: their tongue moves within me like no toy nor dick ever has, and I’ve had fairly satisfying variants of both. They spread my thighs, then apparently decide there still isn’t enough room, because they lift my left leg from under me and settle it over their shoulder. I tense, but Nuj keeps me steady with their radia, increasing pressure on my hips until I stop my panicked squirming. Once I relax, I’m overwhelmed by the powerfully new sensation of their writhing tongue, only half-wondering how strong Nuj is to be supporting my weight as if it’s nothing.

I do my best to muffle the sounds that force their way out of me, and pray the distress sensors know the difference between being stabbed and being fucked.

Nuj’s tongue slithers so deep their teeth end up pressed against my pubis. By now I trust them enough to get off on the danger aspect without the unsexy sort of fear. After a few different attempts to stimulate my cock, Nuj figures out how to apply suction with their radia, pumping me like a full-sized dick. No longer able to control my harsh, desperate noises, I buck down, fucking myself on the powerful muscle.

Sex is enjoyable most of the time, but it’s not uncommon for me to approach partners with some level of self-consciousness. I can’t relax until I’m sure they won’t be put off by my body. In contrast, the whole point of this encounter is to not relax, and furthermore the person fucking me is so phenomenally, bone-chillingly alien that it’s impossible to waste brainspace on judging my potential anatomical shortcomings. None of the usual nerves are there when I seize up, orgasm ripping through me like a plasma ray.

Apparently, the sensors can tell the difference between an orgasmic wail and shouts of genuine distress.

“Fucking… tits on a plane,” I gasp when I can form words again. That was fast , lightspeed compared to the effort previous partners have had to exert to force me toward climax. At some point Nuj returned my leg to the ground, but my muscles are so weakened Nuj has remained supporting me. Quite considerate of them.

“What are tits?” Nuj asks as they adjust, gently lowering my body to their level, settling me with my knees spread on either side of their knobby ankles. My cunt is still sensitive, and the movement alone makes me twitch.

“It’s what these used to be.” I touch my top scars, which healed more thickly than I’d have preferred, puffy and dark pink. When Nuj adds to the pressure of my fingertips with a brush of their radia, I shudder, even though the area’s sensitivity was reduced to nearly nothing after the surgical procedure. Endeared by their gentle exploration, I ask, “Now, how do I make you feel that good?”

Nuj whistles out a pleased chuckle, then pats my sternum. “Put your hand here, on me.”

I blink. “Where?” All I see are the four slits of their olfactory organs. Unless?—

When I don’t move on my own, Nuj leads my hand to the lower set of openings on their chest.

Oh. My stars.

My fingertips brush the ridges where their scales dip into one of the slashes, stopping when they bump into the vertical barring sealing it off. “How do—?” My question cuts off when the barrier begins to shift, parting into thin protrusions, and I realize with fascination and outright horror that they are more teeth . “What in the endless celestial fuck, Nuj. Holy shit.”

“Don’t worry, Chance,” Nuj purrs, apparently satisfied with my reaction rather than offended. “I won’t hurt you.”

But they could .

I proceed slowly, despite being obscenely excited to explore their unknown. The teeth recede, sucked into the surrounding flesh and leaving a bluish opening, a dark spot in the otherwise iridescent swirling pink of their skin. Pushing forth, I’m surprised by Nuj’s internal temperature; their scaled skin isn’t cold externally, but within feels like lying underwater. Undulating pressure, cool and surreal. Thick wetness seeps from pulsing walls, squeezing my fingers then letting go.

It dawns upon me that I am hand-fucking another species’ organs .

The thrill is so powerful I catch Nuj’s mouth with my own, plunging my tongue between their lips, even though I can’t fuck them like they did me. Obliging, they wrap the tip of their tongue around mine, squeezing like they’re sucking. I moan against the lingering taste of my own come. As we kiss, I ease my fingers farther into their chest. A high, wheedling sound, unlike any I’ve heard Nuj make before, reaches my ears like music. My hand slides in up to the last row of knuckles, and Nuj’s head hits my shoulder.

“Should I—” I demonstrate, pushing my fingers in and out. “Or…” I don’t know what other motions to use as an example, too worried of messing up with my hand halfway inside their thoracic cavity.

Nuj grunts and rolls their spine so my fingers slip farther inside, saying something in the ?iet language that doesn’t translate. After a scorching pause, they grit out, “Just move them,” voice even more gravelly than usual.

Okay.

I cautiously roll my fingertips in a wave against the bottom wall of their opening and shiver when they clench around me, like a pussy but flat and cold and nothing like a pussy at all, actually.

Emboldened by the positive response, I leverage the pads of my fingers to press upward, fucking in deep, and clasp the back of Nuj’s head when they jerk and moan.I continue to try different things, most of them mindless, twisting and stroking and, most importantly, never slowing the steady stream of movement. They seem to prefer depth, so I try not to pull out while getting creative with gestures.

It doesn’t take long for me to conclude that I can do better than this.

I unclasp my fingers from Nuj’s swanlike neck, dragging my palm down their chest before plunging my left hand inside their other opening to match the right. Blue fluid squishes out between my fingers, dripping down my wrist, staining the white fabric of my uniform shirt. I can’t push the sleeves up, so I ignore it.

Kissing them again, I work both my hands, sometimes in unison and sometimes individually, riveted on the challenge of deciphering their vocal responses. Most of what they vocalize isn’t translated, which is fine. This is more primal, me fucking their chest until my elbows are wet while mouthing at their smooth scales, licking the sharp blade of their jaw. They mewl when I bite down on the long column of their neck, and their ribcage heaves when I keep descending.

The cold blue slick tastes like water, slightly tangy. It isn’t bad in the least, so when Nuj arches their back with a desperate groan, I lean in with more purpose, tonguing the upper length of their slit. I shift the fingers of my right hand just far enough to the side to allow me to get my mouth onto them properly, sucking along their opening. I can feel faint rows of bumps where their protective teeth hide, capable of snapping closed at any moment should someone prove themself a threat.

But not me. All I want is to move my left hand in and out, rounding the shape to provide a better stretch, while the right fingers flex and rub, leaving space for indigo slick to coat my lips and chin. Nuj’s tongue passes through breathless lips, the tip tracing the shell of my ear so I gasp against them, choking on a mouthful of thick fluid. My arms tremble, not helped by Nuj’s ministrations, but as I switch my mouth to pleasure the left opening, my right hand creates a waving undulation; palm down, pressure firm and direct and unyielding and?—

Nuj muffles a screech against my throat, their devolving control finally allowing their teeth to nick my skin, but I’m unbothered by the pinpricks of pain. I push down as hard as I can, rubbing steadily as they ride out their orgasm, insides tightening around me so snugly that all I can do is push back. Eventually Nuj’s thoracic muscles relax, and they nuzzle my temple before slowly drawing away, leaving a string of thick mucous connecting my hands to their swollen, throbbing openings.

I watch the teeth close, and shiver.

We end up slumped side-by-side on the floor, both shaking and wracked by the occasional twitch. Our mutual affliction presents an interesting counterpoint to our physical differences, the way Nuj has to angle themself to avoid crushing their tail against the wall, their chest moving in heaving gasps despite their lips being closed.

Eventually Nuj shifts, humming. “I drew blood,” they inform me, not sounding pleased about it. My wet fingers drift to the tiny punctures I barely feel, only for Nuj to smack them away. “Wash first,” they scold, only to shamelessly lick the beads of blood drying with the sweat on my neck.

“I’ve got wipes in my desk,” I mumble, not inclined to struggle or argue.

Nuj rises with a groan, taking a moment to ensure their feet are steady before drifting to my desk. The floor is made of a low-impact material, rubbery with a grip to prevent slips, and I can hear the quiet scrape of claws over the ridges.

Raising my voice, I tell them, “Second drawer on the right,” but still hear multiple drawers being opened. A small, delirious smile tugs at my wet lips as I listen to Nuj snooping through my personal items. After they allowed me to manually fuck their internal organs, it hardly feels like an invasion of privacy.

Eventually Nuj returns with the wipes, a guileless smile on their face. They clean me up with surprising tenderness, wiping my body all over from my oversensitive cunt to the spaces between my blue-tinged fingers. Hopefully the pigment fades with a much-needed shower, otherwise I’ll have some extremely awkward explaining to do.

“Well,” Nuj says finally, nudging me to my feet—which I allow, though reluctantly. “I’m impressed, Chance Landfall.”

I sway, but they don’t let me fall. “What’s impressed you?” I can’t help a bit of fishing for praise. The denied promotion is all the sting my pride can handle for one-day cycle.

A sawing laugh explodes from Nuj’s chest, suggesting they know exactly what I’m doing, but they oblige anyway: “In addition to your exceptional negotiation skills, that was the best I’ve ever been fucked by another species. Commendable professionalism, Mr. Landfall.”

“You consider that professionalism? ”

Nuj only sighs in contentment.

I shake my head, then slide my ruined, no-longer-white shirt off my shoulders, leaving me completely naked—and I can tell Nuj notices by the abrupt tilt of their head.

“Like what you see?” I tease, before the faux pas hits me. "Oh, fuck. You don’t have?—”

Throwing their head back, Nuj cackles. “Now that was not professional. I’ll dock your points for cultural insensitivity.”

“Shit.”

“And that’s another penalty for foul language.” Nuj tuts. “I’m afraid one more infraction merits a failing grade.”

My lips part, but I can’t think of an appropriate repartee.

Nuj saves me with a bump of their shoulder, grinning like a hanged skeleton in possession of forbidden knowledge. “It’s all right. If you’re that concerned about your grade, I’ll allow you to re-take the exam.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You’ll allow me, hm?”

“Generously,” they clarify.

“Extremely so,” I agree, crossing my arms over my bare chest. “Would you mind handing me my blazer?”

“And if I do mind?”

“Then I’ll accept my near-failing grade and report the mission failure to my program director.”

Without further protest Nuj grabs the clothing item from the back of my desk chair, then plucks my pants and undergarments from the floor as well. I don’t miss their curious squish of the silicone penis prosthetic before they hand everything over, and their smile informs me they couldn’t care less that I noticed.

Once I’m dressed—doing my best to ignore the weight of Nuj’s unwavering attention—I take a moment to prop my ass against my desk. I consider Nuj, who is now standing across the room, on the other side of the scattered chess pieces.

My heart begins to pound as I take a reckless shot. “Did…” I swallow hard. “Do you think my performance tonight merits a repeat, Spokesperson?”

“Haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean, Mr. Landfall.”

Ah, fuck.

“My mistake,” I say with an unavoidable twinge of disappointment. “Of course I don’t expect a prolonged arrangement. That would be presumptuous and possibly compromise our professional decisions.” I hazard a weak smile. “Wouldn’t want you to get soft on me during negotiations, after all.”

I didn’t fuck Nuj for professional gain, and am loath for it to appear as if that was my goal in pursuing an affair. In the interest of not revealing my foolishly hurt feelings, I turn the toppled game table upright and resolve to pick up all the pieces tomorrow, then navigate through them to the control panel. I reset the automatic sensor on the office door and set the lights to turn off in ninety seconds. Just enough time to make a dignified retreat.

Except when I try to leave, Nuj doesn’t move. Their smaller figure allows me to see the only exit with pained longing, but I don’t dare push past them. If they didn’t grab me with their radia, its full strength still unbeknownst to me, a mere flick of that powerful tail would send me flying.

One long stride brings Nuj achingly close. They brush damp hair out of my eyes, then lean in until our lips graze, just shy of kissing. “Discard your fears, Mr. Landfall,” they purr. “I plan to inform our superiors about how impressed I am by your exceptional proficiency at business negotiations. We’ll proceed with a fresh mutual understanding. And…”

Nut stretches to murmur in my ear. My breath catches when their chest rubs against the bare skin exposed by my partially unbuttoned blazer.

“In the meanwhile, I’ve found the rules of chess are much more complex than I had expected. Therefore, another lesson is in order. And perhaps a few more after that, if we find our gameplay enjoyable.”

I try desperately not to grin, but fail. “That’s more than all right on my end. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out how to bleach my uniform shirt before tomorrow’s meeting without raising any suspicions.”

Nuj flicks the tip of their tongue over the spot on my neck where their teeth nicked, then withdraws from my space. They swish their tail behind them so the office door slides open with a whisper, then step into the hallway. Just as the door is closing behind them, I hear: “Good luck with that, Chance.”

I linger, unmoving, until the timer runs out and the light flicks off, leaving me standing rumpled and alone in the dark.