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them and dislodge his cock from the back of her neck. It popped over her face and into
her mouth like a heat-seeking, guided missile and she eagerly swallowed his length,
desperate for its fullness in her throat, the velvety texture against her taste buds and
some measure of control.
He groaned and pumped his hips, fucking her mouth, yet never letting go of her
pussy. In her mind s eye, she broke free and watched them sixty-nining. The deliciously
carnal vision of herself getting eaten caused her pussy to gasp and gush. He pulled his
face off her and gazed into the milky pool, licking his lips in anticipation. Bringing his
hands out from under her ass, he gently spread her labia, flicking the tip of his tongue
into the tender center of her cunt.
The hot, soft point of his tongue probed every sensitive crevice, popping in and out
and swirling around as if dancing to a pornographic Hokey Pokey.
25
Ann Wesley Hardin
Dove muffled a giggle against his cock and the vibrations squeezed some salty pre-
cum onto her tongue. His tongue hit her clit the same time she increased the suction on
his head and they both exploded into pulsating white light.
With a gasp, she awoke, hips pumping, skin lathered and tears leaking out of her
eyes.
Alone. All alone. God.
Talk about a mind fuck.
* * * * *
 Cousin Mark. You awake? Cousin Mark?
The whispery voice filtered into Anthros heavy, murky head and he felt the
stirrings of semi-consciousness.
 There s a pretty sunrise. Want to see it, Cousin Mark?
Anthros struggled upright, on full alert, then wilted back down onto the mattress
when the thick atmosphere failed to move out of his way. It hung around him like a
dense, velvet drapery, binding his movements with a resistance akin to swimming
underwater.
With tremendous effort, he cracked open his eyes. His lids dragged across the
sticky, glutinous orbs. Blinking almost hurt. If danger sat beside him on the bed, there
was little he could do about it. Then again, killing him in his sleep would ve been the
way to go.
A small, shadowy figure took form and Anthros adjusted his head to try and focus
on it. Wide, curious bronze eyes gazed back at him from beneath a messy fringe of dark
hair. Thin shoulders barely filled the seams of a colorful T-shirt emblazoned with the
words Beam Me Up, Scotty, There s No Intelligent Life Down Here.
 Hi, the little being said.  I m Michael.
Anthros muscles loosened. No threat from this one.  Hello, Michael, he muttered.
His voice sounded thick and aqueous. Every breath he sucked in felt as if it were
straining through pinched nostrils. He opened his mouth to compensate and pulled in
moist, cloud-like lungfuls.  I m Anth 
 I remember you, Michael said.  You used to tell me stories when I was little.
I did? Where the hell was he? He remembered landing, galloping through
neighborhoods looking for the network, a dog licking his face, talking to some people
who resembled Arnie and Ava, and then, nothing.
Michael.
The changeover process had begun, he knew. The rest, however, escaped him. A
sea of fog clogged his mind. Michael. The name meant something. But what?  Stories?
he croaked. Perhaps the child could jog some memories.
 Can you tell me that story again?
26
A Lick and a Promise
 Which one?
 The one about the boy. He gets frozen in suspended animation and travels
through space to save the ruined planet.
Anthros spun his wheels, but nothing took hold.  Planet Smoothie?
Michael giggled. The sound awakened a distantly familiar, pleasurable feeling in
Anthros.  No, silly. The planet in the chain of stars.
 Ahhh. Starbucks.
Michael sighed.  Mother and Father can t talk to me before they ve had coffee,
either. Okay, he got up and plucked at Anthros tunic.  Let s walk to Starbucks.
Now that sounded good. He wanted to try some coffee. The humans practically
lived for it. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and concentrated on each major muscle
group, willing them to work in tandem and pull him out of bed.
Torso up, check.
Legs over the side, check.
Now if only he could lift his ass.
With a groan he levered his arms to push himself off the mattress and rock to his
feet. Good thing he was in fighting shape. A lot to be said for isometrics in zero gravity.
Michael reached out and tucked a tiny, soft hand inside Anthros , tugging gently.
 Come on. We ll get Mom and Dad coffee too. We ll surprise them when they wake
up.
Something was missing.  I have no money.
Wordlessly, Michael slipped from the room. Anthros rummaged the deep pockets
of his mind for hidden strength, pulling at scraps of muscle-memory, autonomic data
and the fuzzy, dog-eared remnants of mental notes he d written himself in case of such
an emergency. A small part of him registered that his responses to current stimuli [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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