“Oh my god, I can’t believe it! This is real! Thank you, thank you all! I am so proud to be the next Bulletball Extreme Galactic Champion, holy cow. I… I want to thank my coach for teaching me everything I knew about the sport, I want give my thanks to my rival, Carlito! he really gave me a run for my money tonight, and I especially want to thank my wife, Rlentia. Having my ship nearly explode at New Horizons was the best thing that ever happened to me, since it led me to you. I mean, the next best thing after Bulletball, that is! Anyways, see you at the next one! And remember – ‘that’s Bulletball!’” – Deacon McCormac, 2261 CCH Champion of Bulletball Extreme. Taken from his victory speech after an eight-hour match against his rival Carlito Maximus.

  Elias usually didn’t drink much. He felt that the inhibitions caused by alcohol were a hinderance to his work, and despite how he crafted his fa?ade of a scruffy scientist, he wanted his work to be anything but sloppy. That, and it didn’t help that some of his earliest memories of his father had been him paying far more attention to which brand of expansive liquor to gift to his fellow board members instead of being an actual father.

  But for the sake of his fraying nerves some liquid courage was desperately needed. After getting access to top secret documents from the facility’s AI, sneaking a few bottles of beer and spirits into the lab had been no trouble. Pulling a bottle of white rum from a corner cupboard, he stood to look over at Chel-Lin. Elias had hoped that once the first checkpoint was done that perhaps the irritating feelings within that had refused to disperse would be finally free, like fog on the eve of a hoverbike race. And yet, now alone with her, a goddamn alien for god’s sake, he was forced to swallow down those thoughts.

  “So, what sort of poison are you picking?” Elias asked, gesturing back over to the cabinet. “Wait, does alcohol even work on Tylas?”

  Drifting his way, Chel-Lin leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at the variety of bottles he had on display. With a dismissive hum, she floated back and lightly shook her head.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think so. Despite all the things I’ve come to pick up from humans so far, a liver is not one of them.”

  That was a damn shame. Perhaps if the two of them were a bit more subdued then he could finally relax. However, with a gleeful look to her eyes, she instead extended an appendage behind her mantle and pulled something free from the band her alien comm device was usually kept. Showing it off, it was a small inhaler containing a pre-loaded cassette of gas. Scribbled labels adorned the sides, clearly not the work of any proper manufacturing company.

  “However, this might work,” Chel-Lin said, rattling the small apparatus back and forth.

  “Chel-Lin, that’s a goddamn canister of fuzz. How the hell did you even get that?”

  “You’re not the only one who can sneak contraband in, Elias. Let’s just say, EXCAL knew a guy, who knew a guy.”

  “And is it safe? Because I’ve seen the sort of people who get hooked on that sort of stuff, and I would like to say I’m honoured to be witness to the first Tylas junkie being created.”

  “You ass. No, I’ll be fine. I haven’t even got chemical receptors to get addicted.”

  Oh, right. Inorganic body makeup. Pretty sure the alien was already hooked on video games, but that was neither here nor there.

  “Wait, so what the hell is the point of taking a puff then?” Elias cocked his head as he began unscrewing his bottle.

  “I haven’t tried it myself, but I’ve heard minor disruptions to my internal core can give an effect not dissimilar to human inebriation.”

  “Surely you could just use any sort of gas to get yourself high then?”

  “I could but… what is life without a little risk?”

  Chel-Lin looked down at the inhaler in her tendril before placing it up against the spot on her face where a mouth would have been, had she been a human or Cambiar. The interlocked pattern of gold and black split apart to form a small slit into which she inserted the nozzle before pumping a load of the twinkling black gas into herself. From the rim of her ‘mouth’ Elias swore he could see the violent orange glow of her vaporous core, like a miniature star burning. Chel-Link gave a wink as she saw him staring wide-eyed at her.

  Before Elias could even respond to the confident aura she gave off, her veneer of poise crumbled as she broke into what he could only describe as a balloon having a coughing fit. A loud whine rang out from her translator as ripples danced along the outer surface of her skin, like a flag flapping as if in the wind. He attempted to support her somehow, but before he could even approach, she held up a strap to halt his advance.

  “I’m… I’m ok,” she finally spluttered out. “Barald’s vices, that was a stupid idea.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I feel more… clumsy than normal.”

  “Well, that’s the idea when you use that sort of stuff.”

  Following suit, Elias considered pouring a glass of the liquor into a beaker as a substitute for a glass, but instead decided to take a quick swig straight from the bottle. Eurgh. Now Elias remembered another reason why he didn’t like drinking too much. For some time, they simply enjoyed the atmosphere, Chel-Lin occasionally alternating between puffs and regretting it immediately, and Elias slowly losing track of how low the liquid in the bottle was getting. When the discussion turned away from gossip about the other team members, such as the rumour that Bernard had come to Kral-Thul straight from an Out-Han orgy, Elias felt a question he needed to ask rise to the surface.

  “So, Chel-Lin, how do you feel about us? A-as a team?” The hastily added last part stumbled from his lips with all the grace of a drunken ex-Henry and Huell Incorporated employee falling out of a bar spending the last of his severance pay.

  “Us?” Chel-Lin looked his way before averting her eyes. “Well, I mean… we’re pretty good?”

  “Yep.”

  Damnit Elias, say something you idiot! Yet, he sat there, gaping like a fish. He was uncertain whether it was the alcohol, or the desperate need to say something, anything, but he found himself relying on the oldest form of communication he had with the Tylas.

  “Of course, the main reason we’re so good is that I’m a part of it,” Elias said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Chel-Lin glided closer, four slits of light squinted.

  “Well, if we were to put our total skill level on scale, it’d be here, right?” Elias held up a flat hand above his head. “And if it was just me, it’d be about… here.” He dipped his hand a smidge lower. “And if it were just you…” Elias made a show of slowly lowering his hand. By the time it slipped past his waist, Chel-Lin rapidly rushed up to him, looming over his form.

  “Hey! What in the Shi’Yaj pits are you saying?!” She coughed mid approach. “If it weren’t for me, you would have nothing to work with. No Bubble Field studies meant no S-Drive bullshit, or whatever the hell we’re trying to do.”

  “I’m just saying that I’m pretty sure I’m carrying this little partnership of ours. With muscles like these…” he purposely dragged up one of his coat sleeves to reveal a half-toned bicep. Goddamn his pull ups were paying off. “I could carry this project for the rest of the IGS.”

  “Carrying? The only thing you’ve carried is all your ego problems from day one. And here I was thinking you might not actually be a narcissist, but excuse me! Why are you always so finicky? Never sticking to one thing, just flip flopping over and over!”

  “Don’t put the blame on me like that. You’re the one who’s daddy’s girl, always doing what father Daksira asks.” Down went another swig of the white rum. Huh, when had it gotten empty?

  “That’s fu-“ Chel-Lin’s translator cut out as a mix of swears barked out all at the same time. “-rich, coming from Savage junior!”

  “You leave him out of this, jellyfish!” Elias barely even recognised the lightness in his head as he took a step towards the form of Chel-Lin, her mantle spread wide like a bird of prey’s wings.

  “Stupid monkey!” she shouted back.

  “Dumb kite!”

  “Small dicked egotist!”

  “Flat chested bitch!”

  “Fuck you!” she yelled.

  “Fuck you too!” he roared.

  Huh, when had he gotten that close to her?

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  In fact, he was barely an inch away from her face, roaring eyes of radiance near enough to engulf his view. Elias stood, deadlocked as he took a heavy breath through gritted teeth, the Tylas not moving an inch. His heart thundered in his chest.

  Ah, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it all.

  And especially, fuck this alien.

  With wild abandon he moved to make contact with her. Kiss her, touch her, any sort of embrace. His body needed it, demanded it, and acted without any higher permission from his already out of commission brain. And yet, before he could will his sluggish body, white rum clearly doing its job, Elias saw a dozen thin, strap-like tentacles expand forth from the alien’s body, rippling through the air before they immediately dug in and under his clothes as he was dragged into Chel-Lin’s touch.

  His face pressed against the soft, velvety texture of her face, a small slit opening a crack to make space for a hole as the ticklish touch of her appendages danced across his chest, his back, his neck, and his thighs. With the solid experience of a whole zero romantic encounters, let alone sex, Elias reactively stuck his tongue out in an attempt create some form of a kiss with his hateable, loveable partner.

  Holy shit, it was actually happening.

  With a quick glance downwards, Elias saw a roaring inferno of fiery tiger-orange gas swirling beyond the horizon of her hastily formed ‘lips’ just before he pushed his organ inside her open orifice. Chel-Lin’s straps tightened across his body as a rich warmth immediately filled his mouth, the taste of spices and salts like danced across his tongue. Bottled lightning exploded in his mouth as Chel-Lin released a puff into him.

  Initially, Elias felt no sort of initial resistance against his tongue, and even in his inhibited state he felt a bit like a dumbass with waggling his member about at random. Then, slowly but surely, the feeling of defiance to his movements, like a liquid turning viscous, met his attempt at French kissing Eventually, an undeniable pressure of solidness pressed against his tongue’s movement. To match his attempts at French kissing, some other solid wedge of pure zest, like a block of cinnamon, met his own invasion of the alien’s ‘mouth’.

  Their battle began in earnest, with Chel-Lin apparently using the gases within herself to apply a pressure against his tongue and breath herself into him. With her own clumsy movements, her gases rushed against his palate, his cheeks, his teeth. Their small engagement was broken off when she pushed a fraction to far, and tapped the back of his throat.

  With a cough, he pulled back, nearly losing his footing had he not been supported by Chel-Lin’s gripping limbs. Panting, he took hasty breaths as they locked eyes. Those deep, yearning eyes of hers, the twinkle of both apprehension and hunger within.

  The second he caught his breath, he spoke up, “Uh, so where were we?”

  Elias was quickly pulled back into another kiss as Chel-Lin’s straps moved once again. One stroked across his collarbone as another worked down past his chest, past his abs, past his hips and down and into hi- shit!

  She must have sensed the stiffening of both his whole body, and another particular part of him as she spoke up.

  “You’ve been staring at me for days. This is for teasing me so long, you silly ape.”

  Elias returned to her mouth, their tonging a slightly more equal affair now. Despite being in heaven, he was feeling a tightening discomfort within his underwear as a particularly adventurous tendril began to wrap about his dick. With slow, steady movements, it wrapped all along his skin and slowly pulsed. Seeking to return the favour, Elias reached out a hand to stroke across the surface of her inner body, its touch like that of layered silk. He initially made do with simply rubbing her skin, but quickly realised how fucking retarded that was, and actually tried to look for some sort of organ he could interface with. He hadn’t seen one so far, but Elias was nothing if experimental.

  With as much as a drunken, inexperienced drive a young man could muster, Elias sought out some equivalent of lips or hole towards the bottom of her body, but instead was left wanting. Shuddering from a particularly aggressive pump from Chel-Lin’s strapjob, he pulled from their kiss to look downwards. With a crooked brow, he looked across her gold and ebony skin. He still couldn’t see any sort of orifice where he could reciprocate the favour.

  “Uh, open sesame?” Elias muttered.

  Chel-Lin did her best attempt at an eyeroll before removing some of her appendages from his body. Turning around, with her back facing him, she flopped over a nearby workbench in a particularly ungraceful manner. Head turned to look his way, she used a few tentacles to flip her outer mantle up, as if it were a skirt, and exposed her inner body. Like before, there was still no goddamn pussy to work with, but Elias’ fears of being unable to return her favours so far were soon alleviated.

  At the same relative position a human, or Cambiar, Elias guessed, would have a pussy, a similar opening to her mouth opened up. It was clear to him now that this was almost certainly not how Tylas probably bumped uglies, but it appeared Chel-Lin was doing some experimenting of her own. With a strap on either side of the slit, the immediate rush of heat from her internal core warm against his lower body, she spread the opening wide.

  Assisted by her straps, Elias rapidly undid his jean’s button and released his already solid cock into the cold, lab air. Chel-Lin’s eyes widened at the sight.

  “Maybe… I should have run some more calculations,” she muttered.

  “Well, a lab is the perfect place for that sort of thing. Now, shall we?”

  Elias gave a nervous smile. Wait, whoa, whoa, this was still happening? This wasn’t another one of those dreams he had woken up very disappointed from recently? Holy fucking guacamole.

  With a nod, she drew hip closer to her hot hole. Their brief words snapping him out from his earlier reverie, the non-sex addled part of his brain was beginning to consider the serious aspects of this encounter. Was this safe? Could she actually properly control her internal temperature? Was he about to stick his dick into a living fusion reactor?

  Perfectly timed, Chel-Lin huskily said out the last few words he needed to put the rational aspect of his mind at ease, “Come on, dumbass! Use your big feral, monkey dick and fuck me already!”

  Gorilla-mode engaged, Elias gripped either side of her cylindrical body, lined up his penis and-

  Whoa, shit! He thrust as hard as possible, which had turned out to be grievous mistake. Chel-Lin hadn’t anticipated the movement, and hadn’t made any effort to apply an internal pressure within her makeshift cavity, leading to Elias to bottoming out instantly, banging his knees against the workbench, and practically falling onto her.

  “Fuck, sorry, sorry,” he slurred.

  “Sorry! It’s fine, just… give me a second,” Chel-Lin said, voice no longer confident and having lost all the bravado of before.

  The unreal sensation of a vaginal cavity forming around his meat in real time left Elias in awe, and gasping slightly.

  “Whoa…” Elias said.

  “Whoa… indeed,” she said, a hitch in her voice.

  To assist with the process, he pulled out until just the tip of his glans remained within. Then, with another nod on her part, he began his thrusting in full. Well, it was initially closer to slow pumps as he got used to the rippling texture of her insides, like the waves of the ocean were wrapping and caressing around every inch of his cock. Her appendages hadn’t stopped either. Now they were coupled at the hips, another section of her mantle had released a new swarm of straps to resume their full-body interfacing. As tendrils prickled at his nipples and brushed through his hair, one noteworthy pair took turns groping and folding his balls. Elias thought it might be overkill, and judging from how soon he was reaching his climax, he considered himself right.

  If he was going down, he wasn’t going without a fight. He upped his speed, slamming his hips against her body with primal abandon, grunting loudly. Somewhat a dampener on the image Elias had envisioned with fucking his partner was the fact that each thrust seemed to be cushioned by her body, reducing the sound of their impact to a soft thud. Shit, it was like he was fucking a pillow. A very touchy-feely pillow, but one nonetheless. Chel-Lin’s translator, once stoic and steady had slowly devolved into a constant stream of Tylas words and gasps, her natural voice a constant theremin-whine of pleasure. Desperate to hold on as long as possible, Elias began thinking of anything to distract him from the growing urge to release his load within his naughty alien companion. When he attempted to think of random equations, all he could manage was picturing himself fucking Chel-Lin whilst discussing the validity of their application. Shit! Maybe thinking about the other team mem- Bad fucking idea! Do not think of Kurt right now, Elias. Anything but that. Science! That might work. Wait, since her thought processes were all contained within her core, and thus it could be considered a ‘brain’ of sorts, did sex count as mind fucking? Shit, that didn’t help either!

  It was apparently all in vain, as he felt the inevitable approach of climax coming, and he threw himself into the act of rutting with all his strength. The heat from within the glowing pussy of Chel-Lin reached a near uncomfortable level as she cried out, face turned downwards.

  “Yes! More! Use that inferior primitive dick to ruin my superior cunt, simian!”

  “Superior? Oh, hell no.”

  The insult to his people would not stand. Elias tore off his lab coat and tossed to the side as if it were some sort of weighted clothing inhibiting for sexual performance.

  “I’ll show you who’s the boss of this lab,” Elias declared.

  Knuckles white from holding onto her skin for dear life, Elias bit his lip as the end of his stamina left him. Slamming his pelvis against her body with one last burst of might, he dumped his seed into Chel-Lin, her voice a soprano of orgasm as her translator glitched out before from overloading with a crackle. Elias gave a few, weakened pumps of his hips as the last of his cum shot into her insides. Fire danced along his penis.

  “Holy… shit…” he muttered, spent.

  With much reluctance, but liking his cock not well-done, he inched out of her. Pulling out, he saw the mass of his expulsion now floating within a sea of autumn-orange gas beyond her slit, a few drops drifting towards the exit. Just before they were about to spill out, they seemingly were manipulated back inside. Goddamn gas pussy.

  A few seconds later, Chel-Lin’s translator cut back in. “Oh Barald damn me, I am so going to hell for that.” She turned to look at him, eyes half-lidded and still bearing a lustful ache. “But that was definitely worth it.”

  “Yeah, well, glad we decided who’s the best. Which is me. For sure.”

  “You?” Chel-Lin would’ve almost sounded genuinely offended as if he hadn’t just nutted inside of her. “I think you’ll find I didn’t even cum.” She didn’t even sound like she had convinced herself.

  “…Really?” Elias tried not to let the immediate wash of post-orgasm clarity take away from his sceptical look. “Fine, I guess we’ll have to do some more testing about that?”

  “Indeed,” Chel-Lin took the moment to survey the surroundings. “But maybe we should take this somewhere less… clinical?”

  For a moment, she tried to heave herself up, but soon flopped back onto the workbench.

  “Or… not. It would appear that… hnmm… I am still recovering. Would a knight such as yourself be so kind as to help a defeated, vulnerable woman to your chambers?”

  Elias leaned in for another kiss, grin wide. “I think I’ll take you up on that.” Just as he prepared to sweep her up and to carry her back to his room, the immediate spark of an eureka moment gripped him.

  “Wait, wait! Hold on.”

  Elias, jeans still around his ankles and dick exposed to the air, shuffled over to the nearby blackboard and began writing down the equation that had come to mind. Post-nut clarity in hand, he finally cracked part of what he was titling ‘the-Savage-Constant-to-end-all-Savage-constants’, since he was getting sick of numbering them. With his knowledge recorded for posterity, the sort of esoteric understanding only obtained only from fucking an alien, he redressed and walked back to Chel-Lin, who looked simultaneously impressed and dumbfounded.

  “Sorry, but you know how it is,” Elias said. After a moment, Chel-Lin found herself nodding. “So, how about we confirm the statistical significance for our hypothesis of – do Tylas need a good dicking?” Elias asked.

  “Hmm, I think it wouldn’t hurt to get some more data, my strong monkey man,” Chel-Lin whispered in his ear. Alien partner in his arms, and a long night ahead, it appeared their field work had only just begun.