Chapter 4: First Contact

D+1

First contact occurs sooner than expected, and the encounter turns out to be a lot less traumatic than I dreaded.

After a long jack-off session and a short lunch, we set out again. His cock did not erupt nearly as much the second time, but it pleasantly took a lot longer to do so. Randall had to stroke himself over and over again, harder and harder, making himself wetter and wetter in the process. I waited a long time for him to cumm, but I did not mind the wait. In fact, I enjoyed the waiting, and I enjoyed the watching! I enjoyed the sight of his hand running up and down the long length of his hard rod. Even when I removed my top and modeled my topless body, he still had to pump on his member for a long time before it finally shot off.

It is early morning by the time we finally set out, I guess about 8:00 AM - I think. I do not check the time because I do not wear a watch to check - or much anything else for that matter. I chose the bikini for first encounter because it is the most conservative article of clothing I carry in my backpack.

The forest turns into a desert in reverse. Instead of sand with the occasional patch of trees to give us shade, the world turns green with the occasional patch of sand to give the hot rays of the sun enough room to beat down from above. We wisely avoid the sand and keep nearer the trees. The hard soil makes it easy to keep my footing. The pleasant shade makes it less strenuous to walk. Soon, the walk turns pleasant and we make good progress. The trees grow short and sparse so close to the desert, standing far apart with little underbrush to impede our progress.

Randall acts less intimidated after his second sexual performance. We start talking almost right away, ignoring his masturbation session like it never happened. We instead go over the last minute details before the inevitable contact. I think my witness of his eruption maybe even served to calm him - and perhaps me as well.

As we talk, we practice a form of a dress rehearsal. We spend the time quizzing each other over little facts of our common cover story. Each of us carries a head full of useless facts - or more appropriately, lies - about our home tribe and the names of the various villages and tribes we passed through our journeys. It will probably be unnecessary, but we want to be sure not to raise any suspicions. We need a common story in case they question us separately.

Despite our sexual escapades, apprehension gradually starts to accumulate as we walk. The closer we got to the Alien camp, I knew, the higher the probability we might meet up with one of them. I again remember I am on an alien planet about to make contact with an alien life form. Concerns about my exposed boobs and lack of clothing gradually diminish as I start to dread more important concerns.

"If we don't know it by now, we never will," Randall concludes after about an hour of near-continuous talking and quizzing. "I think we should just relax."

"You're probably right," I take a deep breath and agree. "All this memorization is just making me more nervous."

"You'll do fine," He comforts. "Just remember the Longtonese are a peaceful race. They aren't going to hurt us if we make a little mistake."

I look to see a change all around us. It is a subtle change, one I failed to notice but quickly feel. It is as though the forest tries to trap us. The trees grow closer. The undergrowth grows thicker. I soon find myself following Randall, unable to stand at his side.

A minute later I hear the sound of flowing water. We reach a stream, a sizable stream that flows parallel to the desert. Randall barrages his way through a thicket of grass that rises above our heads and almost leaves us lost in a sea of green. We exit the opposite end to find ourselves standing at the edge of a riverbed.

I find myself shocked at the sight of so much water all at once, especially after a day of so much sand and desert. It is twice as wide as the water of any oasis, and it extends in both directions as far as the eye can see. This, I realize, fuels the greenery all around us. This keeps the desert at bay. The sight of it leaves me thankful and relieved, but it also fills me with anxiety. The water, I realize, indicates we are near the Longton village.

The river blocks our way, temporarily, and I do not mind the breaching. Although wide, it is not deep. The water only comes up to our waists in the center. On the opposite bank it rises not much higher than our ankles. We walk along parallel to its length rather than to challenge the grass standing like a sentry along the bank. We walk along until we find a path.

The path looks used and well worn, probably used by the Longtons to fill canteens or perhaps to gather water from the nearby village. It indicates use by many Longtons, which only serves to fill me with even more anxiety. I grow nervous at the thought of walking along the same path used by so many Longtons before me.

"All we need to do is follow it," Randall points. "It will almost certainly lead to the Longton village."

The insight fills me with even more apprehension.

"How soon do you think it will be before we meet one of them?" I question. "Think we're close?"

"Shouldn't be. Not yet," Randall answers. "The village should still be a good two kilometers away."

"That means another hour," I think out loud.

"But just in case," Randall wisely suggests. "From now on I think we should try to talk only in Longtonese. You know, just in case one of them might happen be walking the other way to maybe gather water."

"I agree." I think it a good idea, so I answer him in the Longtonese language.

Randall does not appear to understand for a moment, but then he nods. I must continually remind myself that he does not know the language nearly as well as I do.

"Try no worry," Randall attempts to speak Longtonese himself. "Imagine we home instead. Walk in home forest."

I almost laugh at his broken attempt to speak, but I understand him well enough to take his advice. Looking around, I have little trouble imagining I am home, on Earth, or at least what I remember of Earth after so many years. Subtle differences exist, yes, like the thicker leaves of the Longton trees and lack of any flowering plants, but it still looks quite lovely. I turn away from the logic of science and take a look around me. 'This could be made into a good vacation planet if not for the Longtons, ' I think to myself. It looks peaceful and makes me feel almost relaxed - until I think again of the Longtons who we will soon meet. A strong sensation of anxiety bubbles up from deep within me.

Along with the view, I also get to experience the increased wrath of the Longton climate. It is near noon. The temperature continues to climb, and the sun continues to beat down on us. So does the humidity. Even though we walk in heavy shade and wear practically no clothing, it feels the equivalent to a hot August day. It even feels like a thunderstorm might be brewing, although my knowledge of the Longton climate teaches me otherwise. It virtually never rains at this latitude. The Longtons who populate this part of the forest live via the water that flows down from further north. It flows in an octopus of rivers like the one we just crossed, and it eventually empties into vast desert lakebeds where it slowly evaporates and creates the incessant humidity.

"They should be less than a kilometer away," Randall interrupts my pleasant thoughts. "We should meet up with some of the Longtons in less than an hour."

I am once again reminded of our mission. The scenery and my internal ecstasy almost made me forget, but now I remember once again. The apprehension returns. A feeling of nervousness adds to the tight jungle of thoughts already inside me.

We make first contact sooner than expected. We stumble upon two farmers almost by accident. Around the corner of a thick clump of trees and a sharp bend in the path, we suddenly come face-to-face with two Longton men casually talking and supporting themselves with what looks like hoes.

"Hello," One of them yells to us from a small parcel of land with rows of budding crops peeping through the soil. "You smakoes not?"

I nearly jump off the path in fright. His words sound broken. I do not understand them. My first instinct is to hide, but then I quickly come to my senses.

"Me traveler," Randall remains more calm. "Me valley many away from. Travel quest. You valley from?"

One of the men answers. I recognize the word "Nabo," which is the village we seek. We have found the correct village, the one nearest to where the satellite went down.

They introduce themselves. One of the names sounds like the English name Jelick. The other is like Daniel. Names will be a problem, I know, due to the language barrier. I have trouble enough with Earthen names. These will be even more difficult.

Randall introduces himself and his own village. He says we have been walking since before dawn along the edge of the Northern Forest, exactly like we rehearsed. He tells them how we have not passed another Longton in six days, and then names a village from far away.

The Longton men answer. Jelick asks if we passed a neighboring village, and Randall answers that we must have traveled too close to the desert and missed it. Daniel then comes up with the name of someone he says he once knew from the village we said we passed through. Randall pretends to think about it, and then laughs about there being too many names to remember.

Jelick and Daniel laugh along with him. The Longton men talk in a pleasant, friendly tone. They seem genuinely pleased to meet us. I notice they have degraded their speech in response to our own, switching to simpler words and fewer syllables for our understanding. I soon find that I understand everything they say, although I can tell Randall does not.

Through all this, I remain silent. I desperately want to participate, but I know the custom of the Longton people. I am a woman, and I must therefore take a back seat to my male partner. I must remain quiet even though I feel a tremendous desire to correct Randall and the occasional mistakes he makes in his speech. But despite his mistakes, the Longton men are very forgiving and don't seem to mind. They quickly accept him as one of their own.

"And this slave?" Jelick finally asks of me.

"Slave Martha," Randall introduces me.

"Martha," He nods to me and then poses a question Randall. "You be high chief?"

I am appalled! I know, of course, exactly why he asks the question. He looks right at them. So does Jelick. I can see the eyes of both men riveted on my sparsely clad tits. The comment about "slave" or "high chief" does little to improve the situation. I know the reason they ask Randall of his social position is because of my big tits.

"Hello," I bow, as it is customary for Longton women to do when introduced. This, I know, exposes my cleavage even more. It allows the men to witness my big tits as they droop down out of my chest, but I must resist the embarrassment. "Me happy meet new people after so long journey."

"You speak good," Jelick notices immediately. "You speak more good than master."

I go through the agreed-upon explanation. I tell them Randall is from a land much further away. He purchased me during his journeys, and is therefore less familiar with the local dialect. Luckily for all of us, he allows me to speak better than he does - to show him up, as one could say - for the sake of accurate communication. This simple explanation appears to satisfy them.

The more I speak, the more relaxed I grow. Pleasant to my surprise, I find myself able to understand almost every word they say. They, in return, seem to understand me.

As I relax, I admire the two men. They look to be typical Longtonese men, tall and muscular - especially Jelick. He looks like the younger of the two, perhaps only in his late teens or early twenties. His skin looks dark brown and he is drenched in sweat. I see he has been working out in the field, hoeing his crops just as any normal gardener might do on Earth. And he is also so tall - just as I like my men - and his bulging muscles seem to burst out all over. The tallness, I know, is due to the lower gravity of the planet. And the muscles are because of the lack of an advanced technology and the high reliance on manual labor. His lack of clothing and the small loincloth around his waist does a great deal to further amplify my admiration of him.

Daniel looks older, like maybe in his 30s, although still tanned and very good looking. If not for the continuous eyebrow and large noses, both men could be handsome Earthmen.

"It late and village long away," Daniel points out. "We stop now. Take noon sleep in cabin. You join us?"

Randall accepts the offer. Longtons like to take a short rest at about noon - the equivalent of a siesta, similar to the equatorial cultures of Earth. They traditionally stop work at about noon and rest during the hottest part of the day. We gladly follow the same tradition.

The two men live with their wives - or slaves - in a stone cabin built low to the ground and into the side of a small hill. Longtons construct all their homes in a virtually identical manner. The stone provides insulation, and the half-submerged construction keeps it cool. The temperature drops noticeably as we enter.

The insides of the house resembles my Grandfather's hunting cabin. A fireplace is built into the stone wall on one side. A large iron pot hangs down over the cold coals. Beside it sits a small tub and a thick wooden table; I assume the equivalent of a kitchen sink and counter. Of course, no modern appliances are present. I see only bowls, a pan, and a single knife neatly set on a shelf. A water pump stands next to the tub. Jelick and Daniel appear poor, but I am sure they live just like everyone else.

The men introduce their wives. Naturally, the wives wear little in the way of clothing. One is topless and the other wears a vertical swimsuit that covers only a little more. This makes me feel more comfortable, but it also reminds me of what I must look like myself. I notice the wives have relatively flat chests, which only serves to amplify my own size. Jelick and Daniel seem to notice too, for I see them take a look at my tits every chance they get.

They invite us to sit down at a small table with two simple wooden benches. I sit down next to Randall and we talk about our travels. Jelick and Daniel sit across from us. The women, naturally, remain standing.