Stranded
Chapter 3
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Tillyn, a radiant and otherworldly alien, appears on Marc’s rooftop, breathtaking in every way. Her beauty, the way she moves, instantly captivates him. For two perfect, unforgettable days, they are lost in wonder, laughter, and desire, hearts entwined. Then she vanishes without warning, leaving him aching with longing. But fate is not done with them. As Tillyn struggles to find her way back, Marc dares to hope that this mesmerizing, irresistible stranger might return to be his Valentine forever
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction Aliens First Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Safe Sex
Tillyn lazily stretched her body and didn’t want to open her eyes yet because she was daydreaming about her handsome alien host, Marc. She inhaled deeply, nourishing on the heady smell of his masculine scent that lingered around her. Carefully she probed the bed for his warm body and was somewhat disappointed when she realized she was alone.
Slowly she opened her eyes and as she looked around, she noticed Marc had closed the door.
“Aris,” she said softly, “show me a catalog of female underwear.”
In a flash, a neatly organized overview of delicate lingerie was displayed in front of Tillyn. She sighed and said, “Oh, come on Aris, show me underwear what isn’t that frail and ridiculously flimsy.”
“As you wish, Tillyn,” Aris responded. “Please understand that those are less favorable.”
“That’s more like it,” she murmured as she flipped through the various variants of sets. “This one is just what I want,” she said as she tapped on a decent set that would cover her bottom and give her breasts the needed support.
“I’ve seen on recordings that women were wearing a vistitu.”
“It’s called a dress.”
“Good. Show me,” she commanded. “Not too short and use me as a model. I want to see how it will look on me.”
Tillyn was pleased Aris knew what her preferences were, which resulted in a select number of dresses she actually liked. “That one,” she said resolutely. “Oh! And I’ve seen women wearing those flat white shoes.”
“They’re called sneakers,” informed Aris.
“That’s a funny name,” Tillyn remarked.
“It seems the soles are soft,” Aris replied. “One could walk without making noise wearing sneakers. Hence one could sneak up to someone.”
“Interesting,” she answered dryly. “Can’t wait to try them on, so hurry up, will you?”
“I’ll be back,” Aris’s voice echoed in the bedroom. Tillyn let herself flop down onto the mattress and sighed softly because she knew Marc would instantly notice she was wearing different clothes.
Marc couldn’t believe his eyes when Tillyn walked into the kitchen. Her white summer dress contrasted beautifully with her darker complex and discretely covered her curvy appearance. He was amazed to see her wear white sneakers that complemented her youthful outfit.
It took him a few moments to realize he had never seen this sexy dress before and said in awe, “Wow, you look stunning, Tillyn. Where on Earth did you get this? And how?”
He liked her healthy blush, which made him believe her genes were not that far off from a human. She looked down when she said meekly, “I, I have the ability to retrieve clothes from your storerooms.”
Intrigued, Marc walked around and smiled when he saw a label hanging from the back of the dress. “Hmm,” he said as he read the label, “A Shiro Sakai. I must admit, you do know what you want.”
“I don’t understand,” Tillyn responded meekly while she reached at the back of her dress, “what does Shiro Sakai mean?”
“It’s a designer dress, and since there’s no price tag with the label, it probably will cost a small fortune.”
“Oh.”
Marc thought her indifference was strange until he realized she probably didn’t have a clue about money. He decided to let it go for now and opened a drawer to retrieve a pair of scissors.
“Let’s take this off,” he said as he cut through the label’s fancy cord, “nobody else needs to know what you’re wearing.”
With fascination he watched her examining the sturdy piece of paper he’d given her. He truly admired her slender hands and her meticulously manicured nails. Bemused, he looked at her when she smelled at the label.
“I don’t understand why so much work has gone into this piece of material,” she said.
“It’s their way of getting you to buy it.”
She nodded. “An ancient way to exchange goods. We call it agora, but it’s never used except for a spiritual bonding between two people, which rarely happens. We talk about agora psychi, which roughly translate to buying a, erm, soul.”
Marc loved her serene expression. It felt as if she was wondering about the possibility of buying his soul. It took him a moment to realize he was drifting into a dangerous mood.
His laugh was forced and said, “Those practices are forbidden in America. We stick to buying material goods.”
Her smile was demure when she replied, “Unless you’re willing to sell your soul to the devil.”
“Ah,” he answered surprised. He wondered where she got this information and continued, “That’s another story. It’s an expression which implies you’re hooked on something that you can’t do without. Then you’re willing to give up everything, including your soul, to get it.”
“I know,” she said softly while she looked him in the eyes, “and I think it’s close to our agora psychi.”
There was a silence that made him feel uneasy, especially because of her piercing eyes that seem to punch straight through his being. With goosebumps on his arms, he turned toward the coffee machine and asked, “I’m going to make coffee. Do you want to try a cup as well?”
The second rank observer yawned out of boredom. His shift had been long and fruitless as usual, and he eagerly waited for the end of it. It was a quiet season; not many explorers were out because of the coming festivities. The celebration of the sun and its magnificent power was just a few cycles away. He was looking forward to the abundance of food and drinks.
Although he knew he had to be extra careful with his favorite drink thu nuck; The last time he’d been sick. He hadn’t noticed how many cups he had put away and that had backfired nastily.
A sharp sounding beep instantly got his attention, and he gasped when the system showed an emergency beacon dropping out of transitional warp, triggering the alarm. The automated sequencer downloaded the information into the system, and it took only a few moments before the observer knew who had sent the beacon.
He pushed a button and waited impatiently for the connection to be established. “Yes, observer Masha?” a dark voice boomed over the speaker. “I’ve told you already that you need to stay a little longer.”
“An emergency beacon just arrived in the system, Observer Sebo,” he replied enthusiastically while he looked at the equally bored first rank observer.
“What?” bellowed the senior observer, “whose is it?”
“It’s from Explorer Tillyn, Observer Sebo,” he replied while frantically reading through the data on his screen, “She is exploring the newly discovered planet in the epsilon quadrant. The aliens seem to call it Earth.”
“Stop giving me irrelevant information, Masha,” his superior responded curtly, “What happened? Is she in danger?”
“Well, erm, it seems that they are in their pre-space travel stage and there is a significant amount of orbit pollution. Some of the larger debris collided with her vessel and that drained her batteries to a very low level.”
“I told her to take the extra battery,” he sighed, “But no, she stubbornly opted for the extra communication equipment. So, I assume she had to execute protocol zeta nine?”
Masha shuddered when he heard his manager saying zeta nine. Nobody liked the idea of being transformed to an alien and forced to mingle with the habitants on the planet. He read the report and gasped when his eyes saw which protocol was executed.
“Actually, the extremely low battery reserves forced her to use zeta thirteen, Observer Sebo.”
“Thirteen? Are you sure?”
“Yes, Observer Sebo.”
“Great,” he grumbled. “And this just before the Sun festival.”
Masha read the report again and he knew that Tillyn had no choice but being transported to the surface of the alien planet and she was stuck there until a rescue team could arrive. Her ship’s batteries were drained too far to be able to transport back safely, especially because all life support systems were taken offline to keep it cloaked.
“Shall I start the rescue procedure, Observer Sebo?”
“Let me have a look Masha,” the older man said. “It’s going to be hard to assemble a team that is willing to miss the festivities. I suggest postponing her rescue until after the great ceremony.”
Shocked he looked at his superior because he knew that most of his colleagues wouldn’t be fit enough to assist such a delicate mission and him included, if he enjoyed a few shots of thu nuck.
He understood he needed to be careful about what he said next. He knew his manager was a difficult man and was easily offended.
“How about we find volunteers who are willing to help Tillyn, Observer Sebo?”
“No,” his superior spat, “she needs to learn to heed advice when given by a senior Observer.”
“Of course, Observer Sebo.”
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