A Day in the Life of Saeva K.

"It's okay," I mutter back, though in reality it's anything but okay.

I can smell her musk, feel her fleshy ass pressed into mine. It's all I can do not to rub myself against her and slip a hand beneath my skirt... or down her pants. As it is, I grip my purse even tighter to keep either of those things from happening. I'm so turned on from this simple contact that I wonder (and not for the first time) why I don't buy a car or take a taxi. Then I remember I would if I could fit the cost of either into my budget.

I'm starting to breath a little heavier, my mouth is hanging open a smidgen, and my ears droop even lower. Luckily, the handsome devil in front of me still has his eyes closed, so he can't see how fucking horny I am. He smells so good too. The doors to the subway car slide closed, encapsulating me within this seething stew of human aphrodisiac.

Sigh. I have a total love/hate relationship with mornings. I'm just thankful I didn't get pushed up against-

The subway lurches as it starts, and both myself and the girl behind me stumble a step, basically sandwiching me between her and the music aficionado in front of me. His bulk stops me, but my body and face crush up against him, my entire midsection smashed into his own. I place a hand on his chest for balance.

"Hey, watch it," he barks as his eyelids flicker open.

He gazes down to see me staring up at him with my lust-filled expression, sagging ears, and "fuck me" eyes. Frankly, I'm surprised my bright blue tongue isn't lolling out of my mouth. It does that sometimes when I get this way. I'm practically drowning in his scent. It's so delicious I want to eat him up. As it is, I fight not to grind my crotch against his leg.

Though I see the hint of a grin on his lips, he seems taken aback and says, "Whoa."

"Um, hey," I reply softly, but he had me the second he opened those dusky eyes.

* * *

How does it always end up like this? I turn around to face the rear wall of this enclosed bathroom, hike up my skirt, then bend over and grab the rail on the wall above the toilet's tank. At least it's clean in here... for now. I pop my ass out and wait impatiently.

Standing behind me, the hunky guy from the subway blurts, "Holy shit. You're not wearing any panties, and you got a bald pussy."

"I keep it shaved," I mumble.

"Kinky."

Not so much kinky as practical. Cleanup is easier with no hair in the way, but it's kind of funny what embarrasses me. Admitting I shave my kit-kat makes me self-conscious, but having that kit-kat bared and presented so some stranger can fuck it doesn't. Sometimes I don't get me. I'll do some stuff with no shame at all, then the weirdest things will make me blush.

Look on the bright side, I tell myself, at least you had enough self-control not to drop to your knees right there in the subway and beg to suck his dick.

That might've been humiliating. Strangely, the thought arouses me even more, and I'm not sure if it's because of the exhibitionist aspect or the embarrassment.

"And you're wet as hell," he observes needlessly.

The fact I know he's staring at my drenched pussy makes me even wetter, so maybe it's the exhibitionism. My ears are tight against my skull and quivering with anticipation. I hear his pants unzip, then the rustle of his jeans as he lowers them.

"You're one of them alien nymphos, aren't you?"

I huff, "Yeah, yeah. Come on."

I look over my shoulder to get an eye full as he slaps his dick against my ass cheeks. My body gives an involuntary shudder at the warm touch and the heavenly smell of his cock. He rubs his shaft up and down against my asshole and the fluffy fur of my stubby tail.

He asks, "Can't help yourself, huh?"

My pussy clenches, giving it's own reply. I mutter, "Just hurry up and stick it in before I'm late for work."

"Pfff, fine."

I can feel the head of his dick probe against my pussy lips. Then he's pushing, stretching me open and filling me up with that hot and rigid thing. My ears perk at first, then slowly droop as he guides it in. I exhale long and slow, a sound of satisfaction. God, I love that feeling when a man first shoves his cock in me. I can tell he's trying to be gentle and go slow, probably so he doesn't hurt me, but I want it in me now. All of it. I'm more than soaked enough, so I push back and thrust him balls deep inside my pussy.

"Oh, fuck," he groans. "Careful. You're so tight."

"Come on," I encourage as I pull forward then thrust back again.

"You want it bad, don't you?"

"Yeah, give it to me."

He grabs my short tail and yanks a little bit as he pounds me once, hard. I grunt in delight at the dual sensations. Fuck, I love it when they grab my tail. Then his other hand falls to my hip, and he starts to rail me like the hungry little minx I am. My breath comes in ragged gasps, chirps, and long moans, the accompaniment to the sinful sounds of slapping flesh.

"Ah! Hnnn! AAAH! Yes! Fuck me!"

I'm so far beyond reason now. It occurs to me that anyone standing outside the bathroom door can likely hear the noise I'm making. They'll know we're in here fucking. Now ask me if I care. Just a hint: no.

"Yes! Oh yes! Aaaahn!"

My pussy squeezes, but the guy keeps hammering me with that tasty dick of his, even if he does grunt a bit harder. Every time he pulls back, and his cock almost completely leaves, I want him inside again to fill that aching void, to scratch that rapidly building itch. He obliges by slamming me repeatedly, over and over, as deep as he can go. The tickle and slap of his hairy balls against my clit is enough to drive me insane.

"Ah! Ye-e-es! HAAA! AHHHNNN!"

I sometimes wonder if there's a female version of premature ejaculation, because I suffer from it when I'm with a human. It hasn't been more than a minute since he stuck it inside, and my pussy is quivering around his dick. I whimper, which is about all I can manage at this point. The orgasm stampedes it's way through my nerves like a herd of elephants intent on trampling me into a seething puddle of sexual gratification. My legs shake and my body convulses rhythmically. He slows and rams it inside me once, hard, crushing my ass against his pelvis in the most delicious way. He gives my tail a little yank.

Breathless and weak, I chirp, "Fuck!"

"Crazy alien, you cumming on my dick already?"

"Mm-hmm," I hum. With a mind of it's own, my ass grinds against him, and I mumble, "Don't s-stop."

He starts in again, slowly at first, and begins, "Can I-"

"Yesh," I interrupt, my voice little more than a sloppy, lust-laden slur, "cum inshide me."

The man jackhammers hard and fast with a decided energy, fucking me into submission. My elbows drop to the toilet tank's lid with a clank. My hands and face press into the cold tile wall. His every thrust intensifies the lurid burning in my core to a point I almost can't handle it. Then, with the suddenness of a taser jolt, I'm cumming again. I'm not sure how I managed not to crumple to the floor. I almost can't breath but somehow manage a delirious giggle.

"Yeah," he huffs, "cum on my dick again... hnnn!"

"Come on," I whisper. "Cum inside!"

He explodes into me. I can feel every inch of his cock throbbing against my vaginal walls as he launches his load down deep. There's so much cum shooting out of him. The heat of it melts into my womb. My pussy pulsates all on it's own, flexing and squeezing as if my womanhood wants to milk and swallow every possible ounce of semen from his prick.

Plus, I think I may have just drooled on the tank lid.

This is...

Absolute...

Paradise...

The sensory overload is intoxicating, and I don't mean that metaphorically. I could go into the science of it, just not right now. In fact, this is part of why I wanted to become a xenobiologist in the first place -- so I could understand why this happens to me. A small percentage of Vrokkuns get this post-coital bliss after fucking a human, and it's like a literal drug.

I'm a little disappointed when he pulls out and steps back. "Whew," I hear him breathe out. "That was fun."

A trickle of his spunk drips out of me, and I think, What a waste.

Like I'm clumsy from being drunk, I turn around and flop my butt down on the closed toilet lid, with legs spread wide and my skirt still hiked up. My head lolls to the side, with half-lidded eyes, as I dip two fingers down to my soiled snatch and gather up his leaking seed before it dribbles down my ass crack.

He pulls up his jeans and asks, "Wow, are you fucked up right now?"

"Noooo," I deny before sucking my fingers clean. "Issfine."

"Yeah, o-kay," he responds. "You gonna be all right?"

"Issfine," I repeat and swipe a hand through the air. "Jussgoodfuck."

"Thanks." He runs his fingers over his dusky hair and says, "Glad you liked it. Um, you too. You're a good lay."

I finger myself a little to dig out more of his tasty sperm, then slowly lick my digits clean a second time. I'm not sure he realizes I'm mostly off in my own little world right now. The man pulls out his phone and aims it my way.

He asks, "Do you mind?" When I don't answer, he taps me on the knee and repeats, "Hey, do you mind?"

My ears rise ever-so-slightly as my muddled brain tries to divine his meaning. Then it hits me he wants a picture, probably to prove to his buddies he banged an alien chick. I guess I'm okay with that, with one caveat.

"Noface," I mumble almost incoherently. "Jusspussy. Issokay."

I reach down and spread open my still-dribbling vagina. My erstwhile lover, eyes wide at my display, nods his understanding, angles his phone toward just my crotch, and snaps his pic. He says, "Thanks. Well, I guess I'll see you around."

"Mmmmhmmmm."

I'm so discombobulated I barely notice when he leaves. The first one of the day always fucks me up the hardest.

Maybe I shouldn't have done this right before work.

It takes another ten minutes before I come back to myself. I realize I need to clean up and put on my panties before heading out. Yeah, yeah -- I know I wasn't wearing any before, but I'm not totally shameless. I don't go commando all day. It's just that I always get wet riding that infernal subway. I don't want to soil my underwear every morning, so I've learned to only put them on once I get to work and can clean up first. My classroom is well-ventilated enough that the smell from my students doesn't really get to me too much.

But right now I don't want to reek of moist, sweaty pussy and some random guy's cum when I walk into class. I mean, could you imagine if I didn't have a pair of panties? I'm up there giving a lecture and some dude's jizz drips out of me? That could prove mortifying. I might love sex, but I do have some standards to uphold. Or at least I try to. I reach over to get my panties and the sanitary wipes from my purse. I intake a sharp breath when I realize it's zipper is open.

That fucking son-of-a-bitch! He fucked me then robbed me while I was out of it!

I can't believe it. The sex... I wanted that, but this? I suddenly feel dirty and used. I grab up my purse and dig around to see what's missing. That's when I notice something that wasn't there before. A little business card is tucked in between a couple of items. I pull it out and read it. I don't recall taking this from anywhere I shop or having anyone hand it to me. That guy must've left it.

A slow smile spreads across my face as I suddenly suspect I hadn't been robbed at all. I double-check just to be sure, but none of my things are missing, and all my money is still inside.

"Huh," I say, holding up the card again to look at it, my sexual ego swelling a touch. "I guess he really liked the pussy."

Chapter 3: Schoolhouse Rock

I'm glad it's Friday and the week's almost over, because it hasn't been going so well. Not as far as getting to work on time.

I run as fast as I can in this skirt, dashing across the quad and toward the life sciences building. That wacky cartoon I watched as a kid with the rabbit singing about how he's late comes to mind, but for the life of me, my addled brain can't dredge up the name of the show. Still, my perverse (not that kind of perverse for once) thought processes sing the song to me in an almost taunting fashion.

I'm late, I'm late

For a very important date...

Great. Now that'll be running through my head for the rest of the day.

I make it to the sun-dappled glass entrance and the stairs in front of them, taking them two at a time, only to see Dean Crawford step out of the building's lobby and into the bright sunlight. It's like she was waiting for me. Oh dear God, please let her be here on unrelated business. I really don't feel like being fired today, not that I ever feel that way, mind you.

"Ah, finally, Miss Kavelievna," she addresses me.

She's one of the few people who ever pronounces my last name correctly. I stumble to a halt next to her and double over, hands on knees as I wheeze and suck wind. I'm so out of breath I can't reply yet.

"Late again. I was worried you weren't going to show up today. Seems like your students were thinking that too." She lowers her nose and glares at me imperiously over her Dr. Strangelove bifocals. She pronounces sharply, "Because they left."

I manage to turn my head and look up at her sheepishly while I try to concoct an excuse. She crosses her arms with a "well, I'm waiting" expression on her face, lips pursed and one high-heel tapping against the concrete. I wheeze and pant for a moment longer before recovering enough to mutter out a few syllables.

"D-dean Crawford, I'm-"

"Free for the next half hour," she cuts in.

"Yes, well-"

"That you will spend in my office. We need to have a serious discussion about your performance."

* * *

Sylvia Crawford's spacious office is rather spartan, with very few frivolities, most of it seemingly geared toward functionality. I suppose it's like her in a lot of ways: tidy, professional, and well-maintained despite it's age. I mean, she's an attractive woman for being in her early fifties, if not a touch severe with her raven-black hair coiled in a tight bun and her skirt/suit combo. Still, her get-up can't hide a fit body that would give the younger college co-eds a run for their money.

She goes on at length about responsibility, attitude, and dedication. I try to listen as best I can and mumble out penitent words where appropriate. There comes a point when I'm pretty sure she isn't firing me today. Eventually, the dean's lecture seems to be over. Thankfully, it didn't end with me losing my job, even if her face is flushed and her brows are furrowed like she's still a little angry with me, but I think that's due to something else.

She glares at me sternly and asks, "So this makes what, the third time you've been late this week? Maybe you should try waking up earlier."

"Yesh, thatsh ih," I mumble, words a little hard to form at the moment.

"You know," she continues, "you really are fortunate, Miss Kavelievna. There are many employers who would hesitate to keep someone on their staff with u-urges... as strong as yours."

I reply, "Mmmyesh."

"You should be g-grateful... mmm... I've given you s-so many chances."

"Mm hmm," I hum in agreement.

Normally I'm much more eloquent when speaking, but it's hard to enunciate properly when you have a mouth full of milf muff. She lounges back in her office chair a bit more, so I spread her knees farther apart and really dig in with my long, blue tongue. I jam it up and into her delicious pussy as far as it will go, which is actually quite a ways.

Did I mention how much I love the taste of human pussy too?

"You're l-lucky r-really," she mumbles, the dean having her own troubles speaking correctly.

"Luckee," I agree again before slurping her swollen clit into my mouth and sucking on it.

"Hnnn," she groans as her eyes roll back, the first serious crack in her facade of respectability. "You should th-thank me."

"Yesh, hhahn hou."

"Mmmff. Th-that's it. Sh-how me h-how much you... appreciate this."

Her fingers grip my hair and drive my face into her crotch, so I drive my tongue deeper into her snatch. "Hhahn hou," I repeat.

The dean lets out a weird "wugh" noise I've never heard before, then blurts, "Again! Thank me again!"

I grunt out, "Hhank hou!"

She reaches behind and clutches the back of her chair almost desperately. "Yes!"

I realize she's getting off on the vibration from my words. I keep tongue-fucking her hairy box and mumble even louder, "HHANK HOU!"

"Good God," she cries out, her face scrunching up.

"HHANK HOU HHANK HOU HHANK HOU," I repeat over and over, my tongue delving deep inside, curling and scouring against her inner silk with each "thank".

The dean's body suddenly shakes and jerks, convulsing with pleasure. "NNNNNNH!"

I can feel her cunt pulse against my mouth and taste the difference in her flavor as she cums. I slow down my probing, and she rides it out to the tune of her sexy moans and heavy breathing. Dean Crawford starts petting my head and running her fingers through my hair, and it feels amazingly nice.

"Ah, very good, Miss Kavelievna," she murmurs. "Very good. I think we're done here."

"Hhank hou," I mumble once more before pulling back, a thick string of her excitement stretching between my tongue and her pussy.

The strand finally snaps, and I watch as it dribbles down toward her ass. The smell and taste of her juices all over my mouth and chin are still making my head all swimmy. I sit down and lean back before I fall back, my tongue hanging all the way out. At least I had the presence of mind to take off my panties before crawling on hands and knees to eat out the dean... again. I must look like a total slut the way I'm sprawled across her office floor.

In fact, I think I'm drooling on my own chest. Yeah, my tongue's hanging out far enough it fell between my cleavage.

"Don't hesitate to ask me for help when you have trouble controlling your impulses."

I roll my tongue back in my mouth so I can speak like a civilized being. "Thank you, Dean Crawford."

"It's not a problem. At all," she assures me as she adjusts her glasses and tries to resume her austere aura. She rises from her chair, slips her underwear back on, and fixes her skirt. "That's what I'm here for. To help."

I rise on shaky legs.

"You can use my private bathroom," she informs me, pointing to the other door in her office. "Get yourself straightened out. Your next class starts in ten minutes. Don't be late."

As I gather up my purse and make my way to her restroom, I think, I would've fired me by now.

* * *

I make it just in time for my next class. I give the students a mumbled greeting, striding up on stage. I begin writing a few things for today's lecture on the big chalkboard. Ugh. I really need to get my act together. I'm still horny from my visit to the dean's office. I can't keep my ears from drooping, my mouth refuses to shut all the way, and I really should've worn a thicker bra. My stiffened nipples are practically tenting my white blouse. My students shouldn't see me like this. I should be a role model for them. I should not be walking into class smelling like pussy.

Other than the sound of chalk against the board, the class quietly waits for me to finish. Yeah, there's some incidental sounds, like shifting in seats or coughing or gum chewing, but I have a couple students who seem to have forgotten how keen Vrokkun hearing is. Their whispers are pitched low, so no one else can hear, but I can.

"See? I told you, dude. She's in heat."

Oh God, I think, they can tell.

"Yeah, I heard she'd do it with anybody, you just have to ask."