Cal was two-thirds of the way to scared-to-death, and all the way to "hooked on the thrill." Sorceresses, goddesses, vampires, ghosts, witches, werewolves, creatures from various-colored lagoons and shape-shifters filled booths and bar stools. There were Ancient Atlantean citizens, friendly and fierce aliens, androids, left-wing and right-wing militants, Goths, techno-geeks, elementals and even a few Jehovah's Witnesses-all manner of bizarre beings filled the tavern run by the former football player, Tommy "Smasher" Johnson. Rumor had it that even Mr. Spock had been there once, accompanied by "Q," and Art Bell but that had never been confirmed or denied by the proprietor.
After his first encounter with a nameless woman who claimed to be a sorceress, or goddess, Cal had spent every night at the bar, examining its patrons. He hadn't had the guts to go to bed with any of them, but he knew they were there. He was able to pick out some of the obvious strangers, but had been to nervous to attempt contact.
An alien had hit on him, but he wasn't into the whole inter-species, intergalactic, same-sex anal probe scene.
To his credit, Smasher Johnson was mum about any of his patrons being anything other than good, paying customers. (Although Cal was positive he had heard the huge man once lament about being paid in "newt noses and Arcturian Dweezips.") Cal, a washed-up reporter for a national sports magazine, had finished his "Where are they now" interviews with Smasher. Now he was following up with a little "personal" investigation. He wondered if any of the tabloids knew about this place. He could make a bundle getting laid by aliens and then recounting the experiences.
"Buy you a drink?" said a husky female voice. Cal looked up to stare into the beautiful, deep ... crimson eyes ... of a tall woman with long brown hair. She had an accent he couldn't quite place. She was statuesque, the stuff that wet dreams were made of.
"Uh...sure," he stammered. "You from around here?" He immediately felt like an idiot for asking such a ridiculous question.
She threw back her head and roared a hearty laugh, shaking her head. Her long, curly locks danced across her back. Her large, firm breasts stood up and heaved at the raucous laughter.
"By here, do you mean this galaxy?"
Cal shook his head and wished he could start over again.
"You are cute," she said. "I would very much like to join you for an evening of complete sexual interaction."
"You don't have to ask me twice," Cal said, asking for his bill.
* * * * *
As they entered Cal's motel room, he took a moment to truly study the woman he was with. He would have to carefully recollect her features if he was going to jot down the information later for publication.
She was approximately six feet tall, with long, flowing hair and beautiful ... albeit crimson ... eyes. Her body looked muscular from head to toe, save for a firm, but soft-looking pair of large breasts. Her skin would have passed for caucasian, but had a slight bluish green tint. Subtle...enough to make her look exotic (or sick, depending on the beholder.) She wore a low- cut blouse and a tight miniskirt which accentuated her tight, firm ass.
"Please, will you appease my custom, and allow us each to take turns undressing slowly?" she asked.
"Sure," Cal replied. "Can't ignore customs."
"Thank you, handsome one," she said. Cal still couldn't decide if she was poetic, or if things just got "lost" in translation. "Goddess Vannshu will be quite satisfied."
"Who goes first?"
"It would arouse me greatly if you were to undress first, my love," she purred.
Cal began to slowly undress, trying to be sexy without being foolish. He wasn't sure how successful he was, but eventually he was naked, and this alien babe was visibly arroused. Her nipples seemed to stand erect the way a good hard cock would at the sight of a beautiful woman.
She stood and slowly removed her blouse, pulling it up from the skirt to reveal a small, perky set of breasts, similar to what a just-turned-18 Catholic schoolgirl might offer. Cal was immediately aroused, but confused. Under the blouse, her tits had seemed enormous.
She continued to remove her blouse, lifting it higher, revealing a second, much larger pair of breasts, round, firm and bouncing softly as they were set free from the confines of her clothing. Despite every urge in Cal's brain to run screaming from the room, the sight of this four-breasted alien woman brought his cock to full erection in no time at all. The room filled with a strong, alluring musky scent, causing Cal's eyelids to droop a little.
"Does the sight of me offend you?" She asked.
"No...not at all...it's just...the ... there's a strong smell..."
"Oh...pheromones...it is a sign among my people of ... " she blushed slightly, her cheeks turning a dark shade of blue before returning to their normal color. "...extreme arousal. If you were of my race, it would immediately make you my willing...suitor."
"It has a similar effect on me," Cal said, stepping toward her. "Please, finish the ritual."
She slowly pulled her skirt down to reveal a beautiful pubic mound with a soft tuft of dark hair. She turned her back to him for a second, and he noticed she had what appeared to be a tail in back, extending from just below where the tailbone would be on a human. The tail was about a foot long, and as wide as finger at the base. It tapered off at the end, except for a bumpy nub at the end.
He tried not to think of the anatomical differences, but instead focused on the unique nature of this event. This woman was beautiful.
