Chapter 4: Sweat and Scales

Lena removed her wrist-mounted computer, setting it down beside the computer terminal and hooking up a cable to link the two. She had meticulously cataloged the entire interior of the Krell temple, at least everything that she could reach. There was surely a whole Krell alphabet hidden in the photos that she had taken, and now she would offload the task of sorting through them and identifying duplicate characters to the computer. It had taken her a few hours, the heat and humidity taking their tole on her. She was drenched from head to toe in sweat, her hair sticking to her face and her sparse clothing clinging to her body. She had foregone shoes and socks, they just weren’t worth the discomfort, electing to go barefoot on the damp wood as she worked.

She stood, stretching her arms above her head, and began to walk around the circumference of the room again as she admired the artistry of the carvings. The reliefs surely held great meaning, but she would wait until the computer had deciphered the Krell alphabet before attempting to interpret them. She stood before one of the larger scenes, the engraving depicting what looked like dozens of cigar-shaped Broker craft landing in a clearing as the Krell looked on from the cover of a mangrove forest. Was it first contact, perhaps?

The wooden floor beneath her shook as Sleethe approached. He had been sleeping in one of the pits for a good while, not too interested in helping with field work, and it seemed that he had woken up.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes on the wall as he sidled up behind her, his dancing shadow cast by the flickering flames of the torches. He bumped up against her, she could feel the firm bunches of his abdominal muscles through his soft underbelly pressing against the back of her head. At a little over five feet tall, Lena scarcely reached his chest.

He blew warm breath in her hair, his snout coming down to nuzzle as he took in her scent. Lena’s heart began to race as his large, rough hands slid across her belly and thighs, his many fingers pressing into her supple flesh as the humidity and her perspiration made his contact wonderfully slippery. His dull claws dragged across her milky skin, the firelight making it glisten, Sleethe huffing in her ear like a bull as she felt the heat of his erection press against her rear.

“Sleethe,” she whined, gasping as his hand roamed beneath her stained tank top and cupped one of her breasts. His fingers sank deep into her meat, his hand so large that it encompassed her boob entirely, a pang of pleasure shooting up her spine as she leaned back against the wall of muscle and scales. “Here? What if someone sees us? What if the elder comes back?”

His answer was another cruel squeeze, Lena’s knees going weak as he mauled her breast. She couldn’t refuse him at this point, there was a wetness spreading beneath her shorts, and it had nothing to do with the humidity. He was so brutish, when he wanted something he became completely single-minded, and yet despite his size and strength he always treated her like a china doll. He was so gentle, so considerate. Yet she felt that sexual energy that he exuded all the same, that animal lust, a desire to throw her to the floor and make her his own that was lurking just beneath the surface.

He seemed to be enjoying the texture of her slick skin, his hands exploring her, sliding beneath her top and the waistband of her shorts as he tested the firmness of her ass and clawed at her thighs. Lena tried to stay in shape as much as her schedule allowed, but the sedentary lifestyle that office work required of her had left her a little doughy. Sleethe didn’t mind, in fact he rather enjoyed it, Lena bucking and writhing in his arms as he toyed with her.

His member was growing, she could feel it through her shorts, digging into her cheeks. She slipped a hand behind her back, glancing the thick shaft with her slim fingers and feeling a tremor pass through him. He might weigh as much as a small truck, but he was still a man, with male weaknesses. She slid her digits along his length, his size never ceasing to amaze her. She couldn’t see it, but the image of his alien penis was burned into her mind like a brand. His organ was azure blue in color, with a smooth shaft that was as long and as thick as her forearm, the glans flared and shaped like a shovel for scooping out the sperm of rival males during their breeding frenzies. Her mouth was watering just thinking about it, the memory of fullness, of that satisfying ache making her head spin.

Sleethe slid his member up her spine, making her shiver as it slipped beneath her tank top, the wide tip pressing between her shoulder blades as he frotted against her. It was hot against her skin, the cold-blooded reptile mustering what warmth his body could provide and pumping it into his organ along with his blood.

His impossibly long tongue snaked from between his crocodilian jaws, like damp velvet as he licked her neck and ear, his thick saliva leaking down her shoulder. He tasted the salt on her skin, breathed in her scent, as if preparing to dine on some fine delicacy.

Something about the heat and humidity was clouding her mind, making her hotter and more eager than she had felt in a while. It was as if the frustration of being damp and filthy was adding to her arousal. His wet leather scent was invading her senses, making her yearn for more. This was the first time that they had been alone for a good few days, not since they had last fooled around in her office. It had been even longer since they had gotten an opportunity to make love.

Sleethe was so big and their sex was so messy, that finding a secluded spot to do the deed and then cleaning up after him was quite an ordeal. The UNN had made Krell-sized condoms and had distributed them in an effort to curb their population shortly after the breeding incident that had rocked the station. While that might contain his ... emissions, Lena feared that the condom might expand inside her like a balloon and injure her. He produced so much of it that it was safer to just ... let it flow, so to speak. That might be acceptable in her apartment, more specifically the shower cubicle, but it caused problems elsewhere.

Sleethe hooked his thumbs around the waistbands of her shorts and panties, dragging them down around her knees in one smooth motion, Lena mewling softly as he exposed her. He slid a finger between her thighs, sparks of pleasure dancing through her body as he dragged his digit between her labia, pulling away with a fat strand of her excitement clinging to his claw as if intending to show her how aroused she was.

Lena was awash in tingling euphoria, she felt feverish, her cheeks as red as they had ever been. He gripped her hips with his hands, large enough to wrap around her lower body, his claws meeting across her belly as they sank into her flesh. She reached behind her, her hands gripping his rough scales with a kind of desperation wherever they could find purchase, as if she was holding on to him for dear life.

Surely he wouldn’t take her here, up against the wall? Would that be disrespectful to their culture? Wasn’t this some kind of holy place for the Krell?

She stifled a gasp as he repositioned himself, thrusting his hips and pushing his thick organ between her legs, eased along by the pervasive damp that hung in the air. She clamped down on him reflexively, squeezing his impressive girth between the soft cushion of her thighs, his flared member emerging like a bright blue strap-on. His smooth shaft pressed against her loins, and she couldn’t help but grind against it, her body seeking out what stimulation it could glean as if it was running on autopilot.

He was throbbing, she could feel his erection beating between her legs, his powerful heart making it jump and flex with every pulse of warm blood that rushed through it. It was hard and rigid, but less so than a human penis. It had more in common with rubber or silicone, maintaining its firmness but bending and flexing when enough pressure was applied. That was just as well, or sex might not have been possible for them, it was only due to that flexibility that he didn’t injure her.

Lena caught herself gazing down at it, her eyes playing across its length, his rounded shaft completely flush and devoid of any visible veins or imperfections. The business end was as large as her clenched fist, and it was already dripping a strand of his excitement, Lena’s eyelids drooping at the sight.

Sleethe kept one hand on her hip, the other crawling slowly up her torso, pulling up her tank top and letting her breasts fall free. They bounced gently as they settled, her Krell lover peering over her shoulder as he watched them, his yellow eyes drinking in her figure. He engulfed one of her breasts in his palm, kneading it softly, and Lena watched with bated breath as his blue tongue snaked out of his mouth and made for the second.

Her legs turned to jelly as his slippery organ curled around her boob, strong and flexible, squeezing and licking. His slimy flesh found her engorged nipple, the tapered tip circling it as he teased her. She realized that she was standing on her toes, her weight supported effortlessly in his strong arms, his azure member firm enough that it was practically lifting her off the floor.

She moaned as he rubbed his shaft against her vulva, her juices wetting its already moist surface as it pressed against her loins. She felt so hypersensitive, like her nervous system had been kicked into overdrive. Even the sensation of his manhood pressing against her inner thighs was enough to make her seethe with a lust that threatened to overcome her faculties and reduce her to a drooling beast.

Her body was so slippery, beads of sweat and moisture clinging to her skin in the soupy atmosphere, sparkling like diamonds as they reflected the light of the fires. Sleethe loosed a low, powerful rumble that resonated inside her, a mating call that shook her bones. She rocked her head back, her mouth open in a silent cry as the oscillations tickled her senses, the vibrations that he produced powerful enough to stimulate her without him even needing to touch her. It was like he had thrust a vibrator inside her, as if she was sitting atop a washing machine, the walls of her passage trembling in resonance with the sonic blast.

“P-People will hear,” she stammered, “you’re being too loud...”

He rumbled affectionately, Lena’s thighs trembling around his shaft as his call caressed her insides. It was as if invisible fingers were stroking her, phantom tongues probing her passage and gliding against her depths. He didn’t care if anyone heard them, he was wanton, shameless.

She yelped as he picked her up in his arms, lifting her clear off the floor. He wrapped one arm around her belly and hugged her close, his scaly bicep bulging beneath her hands as she gripped it. It felt like steel suspension cables wrapped in leather, impossibly firm. His other arm supported her weight from below, leaving Lena in a sitting position two feet off the ground, her back resting against the hard slabs of his pectoral muscles.

His blue tongue slid out of his mouth, its warm, slimy surface glancing her burning cheek. Without lips, Sleethe couldn’t kiss her the way that a human could. There were no gentle pecks, no restrained embraces. She felt butterflies in her stomach, knowing what was coming, a strand of saliva falling from his open jaws to land in her hair as his organ wormed its way towards her.

It parted her lips, its immense length sliding inside her mouth, the metallic taste of his saliva pricking her taste buds. His fleshy organ licked her inner cheeks, tickling her palate and coiling around her tongue as she put up an impotent resistance. He had such fine control over it, drawing shapes with its pointed tip, his viscous drool escaping the corners of her mouth as he roiled. It was a French kiss so deep and lurid that it made her head spin, bright stars dancing before her eyes as he piled more of his length into her mouth.

No, this wasn’t a kiss, it was a bawdy sex act. His slippery tongue pushed deeper into her throat as she rubbed her damp thighs together, her toes curling as her feet dangled in the air. It was coated in a layer of his drool, viscous and syrupy as it hung from her chin in strings and dripped down onto her breasts, only adding to the sweat and damp that already sullied her pale skin.