City of Angels

"You're very handsome, Fred," she said, "distinguished. Perfect amount of grey hair."

"You're quite lovely yourself, Janet," he responded, "most beautiful red hair."

"You found this place," she said, not the words anyone in range would hear, only for the two of them.

"Very clear, like all of your beacons," he chuckled, "no way to miss it. Aliens. How ridiculous."

"Indeed. You have to leave again," joy turned slightly with a hitch in her voice, "unfinished business."

"This is my second body. The first was one of his sons. He was, inconvenient. Had a mate, a child. He was chauffeur to a rich old man. I arrived as he drove. It was... interesting. His father, this Fred, was the manservant of the house. The old man never married, no family. I discovered Fred had manipulated the old man to will everything to him, his 'son in spirit', and has been poisoning him to hasten his death."

"How did you move, I... don't think I can. I do not... know... what."

"A tragic fire engulfed the young family's home in the wee hours, I used the surge, the father's grief left him open. But I believe it was their bond, father and son, only that allowed it, even with the boost I had created. It is this place, these... humans. I only just made it, even with the paroxysm."

"There is another face I see, like this one, but younger..."

"The other son. An intelligent young man, kind, gentle, strong of body but soft of spirit. He is with the old man while I take my rest from my duties. I believe I can move one last time, once the old man is gone and the estate settled, this one will suffer an untimely accident. In his grief, I will take the son, his will is not like his father's, he is weak. With the repeated losses, in his despair he will sell off the businesses and relocate to this rather more advantageous place where we will be lost amongst so many. He is Fred as well, he will drop the 'Junior' when he comes here. You do well."

"I build connections," she said, "we should be Hollywood agents. Many advantages."

"Oh?"

"Every day, more young and beautiful humans arrive in this city. Each one believes he or she will be the next James Dean or Marilyn Monroe."

He sniffed.

"Even being the real James Dean and Marilyn Monroe didn't work out so well for them."

She laughed.

"Indeed. But it doesn't stop the young people. And these agents, they bring them to my studio, all studios. I see them sometimes, one, he, liked me. I took pleasure from him more than once, he was experienced, then I fed. He was, distasteful, not nutritious to me. But I learned much. These young people, many become... desperate. Most are not like our Janet, with her strong common sense and her skills, to find another way. Drugs, prostitution, no one notices... But make one or two famous, they get rich, so do you. The others..."

She shrugged so softly only he noticed. He nodded his head, his fingers rose against hers, she pushed down to solidify the contact.

"Nothing we would do would be worse than what is already here from what I learned," she said gaily, "this is the home for which we've always searched."

"You have loose ends...," he said.

"Yes, Iowa. I, Janet has parents there. Their communications show they suspect... something, some change in their daughter. I will go there for Christmas, this celebration they have. A tragic fire in the family home, only their distraught daughter escapes, she leaves, never to return. There was a brother, but he was lost. A place called Korea, one of their regular frenzies of mass violence."

"These humans seem to enjoy those. We have found our home."

He shifted his fingers to entwine hers, each squeezed.

"Ah," he said, "right on time. Our shuttle."

She laughed, held his fingers. The shuttle moved erratically, not its usual slow and steady approach, it twisted, turned, squealed to a stop with its front tires on the grass, not on the hard pavement. The few tourists around the yard stopped, looked.

Nothing happened for a count of two. Then the door opened and a woman ran out, laughed loudly. A man followed just behind. Both were naked, his manhood was tumescent, swayed from one side to the next as he chased her. She stopped, turned, spread her arms, he met her, their mouths locked, she fell back and pulled them to the ground, her legs wide and he entered her even before she was flat on her back.

More people emerged, laughing, yelling, most naked, a few with smatterings of clothing on, ten, then twenty people were piled in a roiling mass in the center of the large expanse of grass. Women coupled with men, men coupled with men, one woman laid on her back, another woman laid on her, each one's crotch to the other's face, their heads moved, lips and tongues busy. The few tourists raised cameras and even in the distance Janet and Fred could hear the shutters.

Two men in royal blue guard uniforms emerged from the central doors in the Observatory and ran toward the mass of mating people, stopped a few steps away, shook their heads, then rapidly removed their clothing, cocks already fully erect.

"You arranged this," Fred said, clear admiration in his voice.

"Thought you'd enjoy a show before you have to go back to Oh Hi Oh," Janet said with an amused lilt, "dropped a few suggestions on the way here this morning. You know, I need to try that one of these lonely nights, saw it once before..."

She directed his attention to a woman on her hands and knees, one of the guards entered her repeatedly from behind, the other pumped his stiff prick in and out of her mouth.

"Creative, these humans. And those three, I'm quite taken with that.."

A man was prone on his back while one woman sat on his face and the other pumped up and down on his shaft while they kissed each other.

They heard sirens approach up the hill, police cars, what sounded like, fire engines. Janet could tell the difference after these few months. As at the church, the first two pairs of police officers followed the guards, their clothes half-removed before the further weight of additional officers and, indeed, a fire engine crew, overwhelmed the mania. Police waded into the crowd of exposed flesh with batons, handcuffs, yells.

One man broke free from the officers holding him, had been welcomed back into his still prone lover's slit before they clubbed them both into submission. A large paddy wagon squealed to a stop behind the shuttle bus, officers dragged subdued sexual adventurers as the firemen draped blankets from their large, red vehicle to obscure the flesh.

"I'm sure the shuttle will get back on schedule after this little party," Janet said with a broad smile, "I'll make it to work in plenty of time."

"Indeed. Union Station awaits. I was impressed with much of the scenery on the trains out here. No air travel for us poor butlers," his tone cheerful.

Their fingers squeezed a last time, held, they separated, he retrieved his hat as they slid their hands, watched the last few of the revellers shoved into the paddy wagon. Possibly a bad idea as the vehicle bounced and shook with the frenzied orgy not fully diminished by its confinement but the police apparently weren't interested in options, getting the exposed flesh out of sight the highest priority.

A police officer, his skin just shades lighter than Fred's, approached the two people seated on the bench.

"Excuse me, ma'am, sir, would you be able to give us a statement about what you saw? Are you locals?"

"I am, officer," Janet said, "this gentleman is from Ohio, I was giving him pointers on things to see. But, I think we've seen more than enough! Will the shuttle be running? Do we need to go to the station?"

"No, not at all, just over there," he pointed to a policewoman next to a squad car with a notepad talking to a heavyset tourist couple, "just a couple of questions. We have a driver coming up, shuttle'll be going not too long. We'll get you on your ways. Thank you."

They both nodded to him as he walked off to find other witnesses. They rose, straightened their clothes, looked each other in the eye, then he donned his hat and they walked side by side, but with a clear gap.

That was of no matter. Her mate had found her. He would return and all would be well.

Twins

Janet sat on the soft divan in the nursery, the shades drawn against the setting sun of the day in late June, her only clothing a translucent silk scarf half the size of a sari but now only around her shoulders as she held a baby at each large breast. Their suckling had slowed and they'd become restless. She looked up and smiled at the soft footfalls as Genevieve strode quietly into the room, her timing perfect as always.

She admired the tall, lithe frame of the woman, her ebony skin on view, her high, round breasts moved only be degrees as she walked, her areolas and nipples an even darker shade than her skin. Her only clothing the requisite maid's apron tied around her waist and soft-soled shoes, all so white as to be almost painful in contrast. She stopped in front of Janet, who nodded slightly.

"C'mon on, little mister," Genevieve said in a soft sing-song, she picked up the baby from Janet's left breast, his curly chocolate brown hair already full, he gurgled and open golden-irised eyes, "oh, you'll be a strong one. Plenty of your father in you!"

She set him in a basin, a towel folded and laid behind his head. She turned back to Janet.

"And now, you little missy," she picked up the second baby, with her long, flowing wavy hair, deep crimson in color, she stuck her tongue out, golden eyes that matched her brother's crinkled with amusement, "you'll be leaving a trail of broken hearts like nobody's business."

She set the girl into a second basin beside the other, the babies clapped their hands, their mouths open and smiling, the shade of sleep gave its warning in their glittering eyes. Janet stood, arranged the scarf around her, left her breasts uncovered.

"I'll bathe them, have the little dears ready for their good night kisses," Genevieve said softly, "then I'll get dinner going."

"You're too good for us, Genevieve dear," Janet said quietly, "yes, we'll be in in a bit."

She walked out, her bare feet made no sound on the soft carpet. She went down the hall, turned right into a well-appointed lounge room, full bookshelves, leather and padded chairs and a large sofa. She walked up to the tall, solidly-built man as he looked out the window of their large home in the canyon above Mulholland Drive. His tightly curled hair was solidly black, his exposed skin the color of fine chocolate, his muscles clear beneath his smooth skin.

She slid her arms around him, turned her head, her cheek settled between his shoulder blades, her red hair glowed against his shining skin. She reached to his crotch, her hands coaxed his cock to full stiffness, fingertips stroked its full length. He reached behind and pulled her tightly against his back.

"Still leaving just after the Fourth? Montana, is it? Can you find it?"

"Its flight was clean to the spot we'd set,," he said softly, his hands caressed the soft skin of her broad hips, "at least until I had to destroy the tracking equipment. I've worked out the trail. The stealth field should last a couple years, so no one will find it easily, but it'll fail soon, I'll be back for our second anniversary of our arrival. And as you know, even if they knew we launched it they couldn't exactly stop or turn around to come fetch it. And we'd disabled its self-destruct."

"Speaking of self-destruct," she said in a cheerier tone, squeezed his erect flesh, "they'd have no more worries ever if they didn't find the going away present I left behind."

He chuckled.

"But," she was less happy, "think they got word out about us? More of them are coming, less than a decade..."

"Probably, they sent messages before we disabled the transmitter," his tone matched hers, "but of course, they don't know 'us' now, do they?"

"They found us before... might do it again..."

"They're more advanced than these humans," he said slowly, sighed, "why we stole that padlet and the other stuff. But, I've been thinking, we're doing well with this Agency, might just want to sit on all that. Be risky to sell, and we don't need the money."

"Good idea."

"On that note, you'll be okay while I'm gone? Keep things going?"

"Hah! With you gone," she squeezed his penis hard, he exhaled quickly, "I might get some work done. We've got that empty office set up as a nursery and I'll have Genevieve to help with Asha and Aron. But, about them..."

"Oh? The twins? What? They're ok, aren't they?"

"Very ok," she sighed, "but, they're... well, I can tell when I feed them. They're us. But, they're... humans. All together..."

She stopped, both were silent for a few moments.

"Oh," he said softly, "they'll never be able to move? Trapped, like we are now?"

"Yes. They're more than human, but not what we were. I can tell, Asha will need to feed, Aron, not so clear. She'll be fine so long as she suckles, after that..."

They held each other more tightly.

"And. I... I don't know why, I can't have any more..."

"What? Only these two? Will they try to feed on each other? This... is, unprecedented. There must be many, to fight, to challenge, absorb the weak and be strengthened."

"We'll have to, I don't know, we'll, well, I guess we're human parents now. All we can do is help them grow, teach them, prepare them. They'll both be stronger, faster, smarter than plain humans, but they'll be, human, too."

He laughed softly, a sound of agreement, not mirth.

"C'mon," she said, loosened her grip, "it's time to kiss them goodnight."

They held hands as they reversed her walk to the nursery, entered, saw Genevieve putting the finishing touches on Asha's bedding. They admired her taut ass, a round bubble shape, despite her hips narrower than Janet's. She stood, turned and smiled.

"I'll go get dinner ready," she said softly, they nodded to her asshe stepped past the couple.

Fred bent down and kissed first Aron on the forehead then moved and did likewise with Asha, her crimson hair a red hued halo, Janet followed suit.

They stood, looked down at two sleeping perfect more than humans. Janet looked at the exposed skin, a color that always recalled Genevieve's comment for her, 'their father's coffee and their mother's milk'. When she'd first arrived she'd loved the vast variety of colors of skin, hair, eyes, so different. It was clear to her that was just decoration, all humans were, just, humans, they all tasted the same. She still didn't understand why they put such stock in skin color, but even they'd had to deal with it. Many looked askance at their pairing, saw only the surfaces.

She sighed. It was changing. The murdered young president and better Reverends than hers had started efforts. This city had seen protests and demonstrations in the last couple of years, it seemed the easy peace she'd first seen was fragile.

No matter. They'd been through worse, much worse, over their lives. They'd make sure these two had the toughness to survive.