Miriam isn’t sure what she expected from kissing a slimegirl, but it wasn’t tingles.
Not romantic-butterfly tingles, but an actual tingling sensation on her lips as the girl’s tongue swipes over them, almost polite, asking permission. Miriam’s happy to deepen the kiss, to get more of that almost-prickly feeling.
The girl– Gelle, she’d introduced herself, though given that her language is pretty much incomprehensible to humans, Miriam assumes that’s a nickname– had been in a bar Miriam had gotten dragged to with coworkers. Thankfully, they all broke up to socialize, hook up, or drink immediately, leaving her free to find the most interesting person in the room. Bars on alien planets are always fun.
Gelle’s tongue lengthens, probing curiously at Miriam’s mouth. Is she trying to figure out if I have a gag reflex? wonders the part of Miriam that never, even after fourteen-hour fieldwork days, stops observing the world around her. The rest of her is busy enjoying the way Gelle is trying to fuck her mouth with just an extending tongue.
With what she thinks is some pretty impressive restraint, she breaks the kiss and tilts her head toward the hotel across the street, which is pretty run-down but serviceable enough. Also the best Miriam can afford. She’s lucky she has her own room. Gelle nods, so Miriam leads her up, ignoring the amused glance of the receptionist in favor of rushing up the steps and waving her key in front of the lock as fast as possible.
Gelle doesn’t seem to mind, though she does immediately push Miriam onto the bed with surprising strength for someone who’s not strictly solid. Miriam can see the vague shape of bones suspended in her, so there’s some structure in there, some limits to her form-shifting…she tugs Miriam’s shirt, and Miriam jolts out of her scientist thoughts, takes the hint, and strips down to her underwear. Gelle was ‘wearing’ clothes made out of slime, but those melt away into her body with a gratifying haste as she joins Miriam on the bed and studies her, intent.
“Something on my face?” Miriam jokes. Gelle gives her an unimpressed look and then pushes Miriam’s legs apart so she can crawl between them, which Miriam is one hundred percent okay with. Her underwear is soaked through, something Gelle gives a low, hissed sound of appreciation for before she yanks them off. Miriam hears something tear and winces. Damn. That was one of her nice pairs, too.
Gelle’s hand reaches up to run over Miriam’s chest, almost absently petting her. Miriam, exposed and naked, whines, and like that’s what Gelle was waiting for, that flexible tongue licks at her clit. It’s small, inquisitive, until it gets another needy noise from Miriam. Then the tongue dives in, swirling around Miriam’s vulva, dipping in teasingly. There doesn’t seem to be a limit to how long she can make it, and Miriam’s hips buck before Gelle pins them down with one arm.
She’s stronger than me, Miriam’s observational brain notes, and she should probably have guessed that that was hot, but well, never let it be said she’s self-aware. A lot of people are stronger than her, especially once you factor in nonhumans. Gelle is just the first to use that particular fact against her. She shuts her eyes and moans, and Gelle’s tongue dives inside her. She licks like she’s trying to scoop Miriam clean, like a pumpkin, which is a pretty gross and unsexy image. Miriam banishes it immediately and focuses on what’s happening in front of her. Gelle is so enthusiastic, fucking Miriam open on her tongue, licking almost desperately. Two tacky fingers rub at her clit, playing with it while her tongue curls up inside and makes her see stars. Miriam feels like she’s right on the edge. Her thighs shake. A little more…a little longer…Her core goes tight, and Gelle stops.
Her fingers go still, then lift, and her tongue slides out of Miriam and back into her mouth. Miriam can’t suppress a whimper, floating in a near-orgasmic haze as she is. “Gelle,” she whines.
Gelle strokes one sticky hand through Miriam’s hair and settles next to her with a little smirk, spreading her own legs and looking expectantly at Miriam. Miriam, for her part, is outraged, but she also needs this badly enough that she’s willing to forgive the teasing. She’d do anything right now to get that tongue back, which she’s pretty sure is the idea.
“Okay,” she mutters. This wasn’t anything she hadn’t planned on doing, anyway, though she wishes she wasn’t doing it stupid with arousal. She scrambles up, ignoring the way her clit pulses and her entrance feels like it’s yawning open. She’s curious about how Gelle tastes, and she’s not above a little revenge. She lays down and ever-so-slowly licks up Gelle’s pseudo-labia. There’s definitely a rough clitoris and an entrance, but the labia around it shift moment to moment. She gives another slow lick, pausing for just an instant on the clitoris this time. Gelle shifts, which unfortunately, reminds Miriam that she is also feeling very teased.
As much as she wants revenge, she’s going to cry if she can’t come soon. She gets down to business, licking and sucking while she puts a finger into Gelle’s entrance. She’s not sure Gelle has anything like a G-spot, but she squeezes around Miriam’s finger the way a human would and makes a sound like a drawn-out soda can popping. Her lips are definitely tingling again, with that vaguely carbonated sense prickling into her mouth. It gives her the sense of new and different and dangerous that she loves so much, a little thrill of adrenaline that goes down her spine to her core and lets her dive in, licking and nuzzling while she curls two fingers inside Gelle until she feels contractions around her fingers and Gelle’s hand is pushing her away. Miriam sits up, licking at the coat of slime her mouth and nose have developed, and Gelle pushes her urgently back down and dives back in.
Her tongue stretches Miriam wide, the tip hardly feeling like anything but the base forcing her open, undulating in and out with sticky fingers at her clit again, kneading at it more firmly. The abrupt stop from before maybe should have killed Miriam’s arousal, but it’s making everything more intense, like a camera filter that sharpens edges a little too much. Miriam can feel it gathering inside her, leaking more than Gelle can lick up, embarrassing noises coming from her mouth.
“Please,” Miriam finds herself begging. “Please, don’t stop, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop–” And in response Gelle pushes her nose into Miriam’s clit, adding just the little bit of extra pressure she needed to send her falling, and she screams so loudly that half the shitty hotel probably heard as her orgasm explodes through her. She’s past caring, thrashing and half-sobbing as Gelle works her through it until she manages a semi-coherent “Stop, stop.” Even the air in the room feels like too much pressure against her abused clit. Everything has gone from sharp to fuzzy-edged.
Gelle makes a low burbling sound, pleased, as she sits up. She disappears into the bathroom, but she comes right back, holding a washcloth delicately as she uses it to clean slime residue off Miriam, who’s still too out of it to do more than protest gently when Gelle swipes it over her sensitive. Gelle looks bright-eyed and alert, which is just unfair.
“Shit,” Miriam says, taking a deep breath. She has got to get laid more often. Gelle’s already re-manifested slime clothes, but she offers “Want to stay?” anyway, because she’s a good sex partner who doesn’t throw one-night stands out post-orgasm.
Gelle shakes her head with another low, amused bubbling sound, but before Miriam can feel too disappointed, she takes the hotel pen and scrawls something on the hotel stationery that she hands to Miriam. Her phone number, or the inter-solar system equivalent. Miriam tears the bottom half off and writes hers in return, and Gelle takes it with a delighted little grin and a wink as she slips out the door.
Miriam rolls over, pulls out her bag, and fumbles under her clothes until she finds her sex notebook. Time to get her observations and notes down before the floaty, cloudy feeling gets too much and she falls asleep. She’s still a scientist first and foremost, after all.
Gelle’s Tongue was sent to me by the wonderful Strange Bedfellas! They just moved to Washington from Texas, and I highly recommend checking them out. Review coming soon, but if you couldn’t tell, I love it. Follow their Twitter for drop announcements!