Harvey didn't remember anything after the blinding light. He knew that he had solved a crossword puzzle while eating his microwaved dinner. He knew that he had headed out for a walk on a pleasant summer evening. He remembered seeing the couple on the other side of the street, a strikingly handsome pair pushing a baby stroller. He recalled the times that he and Veronica had taken evening walks, without a stroller, though, thankfully.
They had met on a blind double date set up by mutual friends. Harvey worked with her, Veronica with him. They sat next to each other in the theater to watch a lame rom-com, trading snarky whispers about the actors and plot. They felt a mutual attraction right away. They held hands.
After the film, the four of them crossed the street to a popular club in the entertainment strip adjacent to the college campus. They had a couple drinks, danced as if no one was watching. During a slow song, when Veronica crushed her ample chest to him, his inevitable boner to her, she whispered, "When are you going to take me to your place and fuck me?"
Harvey said nothing in return. He grabbed her hand, waved at their friends as they headed to the exit, hurried her to his car and started the two-mile drive to his apartment. She placed her left hand on his crotch, his now raging hard-on, while he drove. He had her blouse off -- she wore no bra -- by the time he slipped his key into the lock and ushered her into his one-bedroom unit.
Veronica ran her fingers through his hair, over his face, back and chest as he finished undressing her. She cooed with delight as he gently sucked her hard nipples, fondled her firm ass. He laid her down on his bed, spread her legs and kissed and licked up and down her thighs. She shivered and moaned when his lips found here pussy lips.
He lapped at her cunt frenetically. She smelled sweet, tasted sweeter. She clamped her thighs on his head, holding him tight, urging him to lick her harder, faster, deeper. He shivered himself when she shook violently and let loose a river of cunt juice into his hungry mouth. He swallowed it all.
Harvey climbed onto the bed, nestled between her thighs. She looked up at him longingly, mouthed, "Fuck me. Fuck me now." He toyed with her, teasing her pussy lips, her clit with the tip of his cock, pulling away from her urgent thrusts to take him inside her. He smiled at her frantic face, lowered his head to kiss her on her mouth as he finally, finally pushed into her cunt.
Veronica wrapped her arms and legs around him. He quickly picked up the pace, drilling into her with abandon. She met him thrust for thrust. They kissed. Their tongues entwined. He pounded her long and hard, holding off until he felt her quiver with a second orgasm before unleashing a torrent of cum into her pussy.
At least that's how he remembered it, possibly giving himself too much of a starring role. But she clearly enjoyed it too. She didn't just stay the night. She stayed for two years.
They were happy. They shared interests in music, literature, politics. She cooked, he cleaned. They fucked in the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom and, of course, the bedroom. They fucked on the balcony, in the car, on a park bench one moonless midnight. He came on her belly, on her tits, in her mouth. She swallowed gleefully.
And then, out of nowhere, The End. Why? He was never sure. She assured him, "It isn't you. It's me." Which, of course, meant it was him.
He still saw her now and then, too often in the company of other men. She'd smile, nod, then look away. He went home to his empty apartment night after night. He'd remember her sitting on his lap, naked, his hard cock in her pussy as they languidly made love. Yes, that's what they often did. They didn't just fuck. They also made love.
He had thought, he had hoped that it might never end.
After he passed the couple with the stroller, he turned to the right, toward the river. He crossed the footbridge into the public park, sauntered around the pond, watching the kids feed bread crumbs to the ducks, and up the winding trail to the top of a small hill. He found an empty bench and sat to watch the sun dip below the tree line.
Which it did, to the accompaniment of the blinding light.
Harvey lay, naked, he realized, on a firm mattress with a light sheet over him. He glanced around the room, which was dimly lit by a lamp in a corner off to the far left and another on a table to his immediate right. He had no clue where he was or how he got there. But her felt totally at ease, as if this was where he had long dreamed of being so that he could relax and enjoy whatever was in store.
That feeling was amplified when the door opened and a beautiful, bare-chested woman entered the room. He watched her smile broadly as she walked to the side of his bed. Her tits swayed enticingly, her pelvis invitingly. She wore a short white skirt. Her legs were long and athletically thin. He felt his cock grow harder.
She stood next to him. She placed the palm of her left on his forehead, her right hand on his dick.
"I'm glad to see you're awake. And, uh, alert." She squeezed his cock gently. "I'm Monica. Welcome to our humble home."
"Our?" he stammered.
She smiled again. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth. "Yes, our. We, the women of Tralfamadore. We're happy you're here and hope you'll enjoy your stay."
Harvey raised his head. Monica took a firmer grip on his dick.
"Tralfamadore? I thought that was a figment of Kurt Vonnegut's imagination."
"Not at all." She climbed onto the bed, swung her right leg over him to straddle his torso. She reached between her legs to regain her hold on his cock. She lowered her tits to his face to let him suck one, then the other nipple.
"He used it in books after he spent time with us here, on our planet," she explained. "He was here for about a solar year. But he was like Billy Pilgrim in 'Slaughterhouse Five,' unstuck in time. We plucked him up and set him back down a millisecond later in Earth time. Maybe he thought he made up Tralfamadore, but it was really a memory he carried back with him."
"You knew him?"
"Oh, gosh, no. I'm much too young. But my grandmother did. She said he was a decent lay, nothing to, shall we say, write home about." She giggled over her take on the famous author.
Harvey realized that he had involuntarily reached up and held her by the sides of her hips. She continued to dangle her fulsome boobs in his face.
"So, uh, you and I, we're gonna..."
"Fuck?" she volunteered. "I certainly hope so. I mean, if you don't mind. I don't want to offend you or hurt you in any way. But first," crawling forward on her knees, "I'd like for you to lick my pussy. Would you do that for me?"
