The Holy Extraterrestrial Affair
It was Tuesday when Corrine happened upon Pastor Brent, fucking Jade.
That hadn’t even been the worst part.
No, the worst part was finding out he was an alien. And not the sweaty gardener type of alien. The tentacles-and-shit type of alien! It was just her kind of luck.
She’d meant to turn away and leave quietly, as soon as she realized they were doing it, but, before she could, he started tentacling Jade. Corrine wasn’t sure what else to call it. The rope-like tentacle slid out of his mouth and melted into her chest. That was that. Tentacling, just like she said.
The hall was a blur afterwards. She had to be anywhere but there.
When pastor Brent came up behind Corrine, touching her shoulder lightly, she almost left her skin.
“Can we speak in my office?” he asked softly, face serene.
Corrine gave her best nothing’s-wrong smile, dread making her arms into rigid, heavy, cinder blocks. “Sure.” What the hell else was she going to say?
As he closed the office door, she kept one hand over her heart. Just in case. Her back pressed against the wall for good measure, almost knocking a framed award down. He was close to her. Too close. Intimidating. Corrine couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. He had perfect lips, a nice color, a nice shape, but all she could see was tentacle. Pastor Brent ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair, frowning. His over-shirt was open, muscles showing through his thin white undershirt.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Tell them what?” Corrine widened her grey eyes, trying to look as puzzled as possible.
“You know what.”
“No, not at all.”
Pastor Brent looked amused. “It’s nothing personal. I just can’t have you telling anyone.” He opened the door, motioning for her to leave.
Corrine kept her hand pressed over her heart, sliding out the door. The framed award swayed to and fro against the wall with a grating noise. “See you on Sunday.”
That would be a lie, but Corrine had already promised to help prepare snacks and coffee after service. It would be awkward to back out so suddenly. More awkward than being in the same building as an alien?
Besides, what would her father say? He expected all his children to attend, and it wasn’t like she could just find a new church. No way, no how.
* * * *
Sunday, she caught Jade alone in the women’s bathroom. She looked fine, re-applying foundation, and making pouty faces in the mirror with her glossy lips.
“You alright?” Corrine asked casually, scrubbing her hands under frigid water.
Jade’s nose wrinkled, her eyes cold. Not unusual. Corrine’s father always said Jade needed one good beating to straighten her out, that was all. He’d gladly give it to her, if he were her father.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and the pastor.”
Jade snapped her case of foundation shut, shoving it into her dainty blue handbag. Her lips were set in a hard line. “Are you calling me a slut?”
“I-no-of course not!” Corrine could barely believe her ears. She dried her hands frantically with rough paper towels. “I just wanted to know—”
“Know if I do it all the time?”
Corrine went in for a hug, she didn’t even know why, it just seemed like Jade needed a hug. Jade had other ideas, giving Corrine a good shove.
“Leave me alone, bitch.”
It wasn’t at all how Corrine expected the conversation to go, but she shook it off. He could be mind-controlling her or something. But more like than not, Jade was just being Jade—a snotty, bratty, querulous twenty-year-old.
Corrine didn’t try talking about it with anyone else. He had said he would kill her. Instead she bit her tongue and kept an eye on him. What if he did it to some of the other women in the church? What if he had already? It was enough to keep her awake at night.
Then she met Lacey. Sweet Lacey.
Lacey was nineteen, and freshly homeless. She’d come to them begging for help. Her family, she said, had been very active in the church, until they had left her an orphan. No one had bothered to adopt her, and she’d aged out of foster care. If Corrine was honest, she had a soft spot for girls like Lacey. A calling, as she liked to say. She felt every urge to lead and guide her. That, and keep Mister Alien as far away as possible.
So far, Corrine had managed to get on a first name basis with Lacey, and keep her away from Pastor Brent. She always had odd jobs for Lacey to help with. Despite that, they’d managed only a few short conversations. Lacey was quiet, always pushing her brown hair behind one pretty ear and giving Corrine that half-dreamer smile, with a comment like, “oh yeah, that’s cool.”
It was Tuesday again, Bible study night, when he made his move. Corrine and Lacey had stayed late to straighten out some files in the office. They were all alone, as far as she knew. Corrine was busy trying very hard not to stare at Lacey’s feet. A flip-flop hung from the left, pink painted toes making it bounce. Her feet were so slender, clean and delicate.
Someone knocked on the doorjamb.
They both looked up: Corrine from Lacey’s feet, Lacey from a pile of files. Pastor Brent was standing in the doorway. He’d unbuttoned the first three buttons of his long sleeve shirt, and untucked it from his dress pants. Thoroughly casual. “You girls good here?”
Lacey suddenly flushed. “Yes sir,” she chirped, pushing back her hair.
“We’re fine,” Corrine agreed, in a more even and serious voice.
“Well don’t work too hard.” He winked at Lacey.
Lacey seemed to swell, sitting up rather straight, so straight it alarmed Corrine. What was she on about?
“How will you stop us?” Lacey asked playfully.
Uh-oh, her finger… it’s twirling her hair. No, no, no. This is not good!
If Corrine was reading the signs right—
Pastor Brent stepped in, standing closer to Lacey than Corrine was. “I could, tell you some jokes.”
Lacey giggled. “I love jokes.”
Pastor Brent gave a nod. “That’s what I thought.”
“I hate jokes!” Corrine blurted. A white lie, just a white lie.
They both stared at her for a second, then started laughing in unison.
“No one hates jokes, silly,” Lacey tittered. “Tell us a good one!”
Pastor Brent screwed up his face, like he was thinking very hard. “Why did the sausage want a drink?”
“Why?” Lacey was all but bouncing in her chair.
“Because he was a hot dog.” Pastor Brent looked right at Corrine as he said it.
Corrine was having a hard time processing the joke. All she could focus on was Lacey laughing way too loud. When it finally registered, she couldn’t help but snort, clamping one hand over her mouth. What a stupid joke. Couldn’t an alien come up with a better joke than that?
Lacey was standing now, her young lithe body only inches from him, pretty brown eyes falling on his partly unbuttoned shirt. “You’re so funny Pastor Brent!”
He gave her his most charming smile. “Glad to be of use.” His hand touched her wrist, tenderly, softly.
Corrine stood up as well, making loose papers fly off the desk and drift to the floor. Her heart raced. “Lacey!” she shouted, almost as if she’d been burned, then evened her voice out. “I just remembered—I need your help in the kitchen.”
“Later,” Lacey mumbled, waving a hand lazily.
That wasn’t the response Corrine was expecting. She came around the desk quickly, finding them alarmingly close, almost touching. Lacey looked more dreamy than ever, like she could just float away. The pastor’s thick, manly fingers were stroking the soft skin of her arm.
Corrine grabbed Lacey’s free wrist, feeling how delicate and warm it was. “Lacey, please.” She just couldn’t let this happen, not to her.
Lacey looked at her finally, brows wrinkling. “What’s the matter, Corrine?”
Pastor Brent cleared his throat. “Can’t you tell? She likes you, Lacey.”
Lacey looked surprised, then smiled. “Really, is that true?”
“I, well, of course I like you!” But not like that, oh God what am I saying!
“Oh, I’m sorry, I really didn’t know.” Lacey bit her bottom lip, dark brown eyes staring straight into Corrine’s greys. “You should have told me.”
Corrine started when Lacey pushed back her hair, giving her a gentle kiss on the neck. Every sensation in Corrine’s body narrowed down to that small little patch of skin, to that delightfully damp pressure. Her hand rose to grab Lacey’s shoulder and push her away, but got caught between the softness of their breasts.
Big! they feel so big.
She couldn’t very well think straight after that. Lacey kissed her on the lips next, and Corinne let her. A strange tingling shot through her body, lingering between her legs. A desire.
She’d forgotten about the pastor, until he stroked her hair, tugging at the hem of her shirt with his other hand. Corrine couldn’t even take her eyes off of Lacey, much less stop her when she also pulled at Corrine’s shirt. It came off so quickly and easily. Her bra disappeared even quicker. There wasn’t even time to feel embarrassed, as Lacey stooped slightly to kiss and suck at her nipple, wet tongue running titillating circles around the hard nub.
Corrine gasped when the pastor took to roughly sucking her free nipple. She pushed at his head ineffectually, panic stirring in every nerve of her body. Would he tentacle her? His hair was clean and fresh, her fingers eliciting a surprisingly minty smell as they pushed through it. No, I can’t think about how attractive he is, not right now.
Lacey’s hand was making its way up her skirt now. Corrine pressed her thighs together. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s bad.”
Lacey stopped sucking on her nipple, sinking to her knees before Corrine and pulling off her own shirt. No bra, just beautiful gorgeous round breasts, light brown nipples standing at attention. “How can love ever be bad?” She tugged at Corrine’s skirt so that it slid down her thighs and pooled around her ankles in a bright, flowered collection of fabric.
Corrine shivered as Lacey pulled her simple black underwear carefully down her thighs. She couldn’t bring herself to say no. All she could do was stare down into Lacey’s dreamy, pleasure filled face.
The pastor stroked her bare shoulder. “Lacey is right. Love can never be wrong, we should love one another.”
She hadn’t even noticed that he’d taken off his shirt, but now she could see his ripped torso, smooth and only slightly fuzzy. He must go to the gym every day. Lacey kissed her mound, delicate fingers holding Corrine’s hips. The pastor turned Corrine’s face towards him. Corrine swallowed hard as he leaned in to kiss her, giving her plenty of time to pull away, but she wanted it, wanted it bad. It’d been too long since she’d been kissed, touched, even looked at. Sure, she’d had her crushes here and there, but nothing she was bold enough to pursue. Pastor Brent kissed her, slowly at first, just lips, then tongue, pressuring ever so slightly. Corrine pressed her lips tight. That was about the moment that Lacey’s tongue began exploring the edges of her slit. Corrine’s jaw slacked. The pastor took advantage. She expected something long and ropey, something that would make her choke and cringe, but it was soft and wet, not too big, warm, delicate. She closed her eyes ever so briefly, letting him take control, kiss her how he’d like. His large hands encased her head gently but firmly, holding her steady, lips pressing harder and more passionately. Then it was over, he was pulling away. Corrine came to the edge of pursuing him, but stopped. He obviously had something else in mind.
“Here, sit here, Corrine.” Pastor Brent patted the dark lacquer desk.
Corrine glanced apprehensively down at Lacey, but she only gave her an encouraging nod, tongue flicking for one last taste. This was dirtier than anything she’d ever imagined. It had always been her and a guy. That was bad enough. When she felt super dirty, she imagined they weren’t married. May God forgive her.
Corrine lifted herself up onto the desk, bracing herself upright with her hands, knees pressed together. To her surprise it wasn’t the pastor who parted them, but Lacey.
Lacey licked her soft pastel lips, eyes spilling lust and affection. Corrine imagined her at once like a beautiful renaissance painting, soft jaw line accented by softer hair, an angel descended from heaven. Lacey pushed Corrine’s legs open wider, making her pussy flower, within the dark thicket of curly hair. It was wet and Corrine hadn’t even known, but now the glistening folds were obvious. The little nub nestled above swelled in a way it had never swelled before, and when Lacey touched it tentatively Corrine moaned. It was so sensitive every touch felt like heaven!
Lacey stuck her now bare ass in the air, wiggling it, plump curves begging for mounting. Pastor Brent appeared behind, looking distant and focused as he undid his belt. Corrine didn’t know which to focus on, Lacey’s agile tongue teasing her electrically, or pastor’s cock, stiff and upright, rubbing between Lacey’s soft perfect cheeks. A sight she was sure she’d never forget. Pastor teased with his cockhead, eliciting an appreciative, albeit muffled moan from Lacey. After some generous rubbing he took the stroke, smooth and even. Lacey surfaced from between Corrine’s legs briefly, face rosy and full of pleasure. Her breasts jiggled slightly with every stroke. She then directed her enthusiasm to Corrine’s already overwhelmed pussy. It was too much, a blanket of tension laying out over her hips, surging with every touch and caress of Lacey’s tongue. She came within seconds, leaning back, hips thrust forward.
The wet rhythmic sound of the pastor railing Lacey mingled with Lacey’s soft exclamations. She grabbed Corrine’s hips, kissing her belly button distractedly. The look on her face when she came to the edge was exquisite. Her beautiful lips gaped, wet pink tongue pressed flat so that Corrine could see her rows of pearly teeth. Lacey’s eyes widened, the office lights shining reflections in their deep brown depths. Then she was full-on coming, fingers digging into Corrine’s delicate sides. Corrine squeaked, grabbing at her hands, which quickly let go.
“Sorry,” Lacey mumbled, panting and out of breath. “Got a little carried away. You know how it is.”
Corrine shook her head the slightest bit.
“You’re a virgin? No way!” Lacey’s eyes were so big and beautiful, filled with real shock.
“Not,” Corrine sputtered, choking on the words. “I’m not a virgin. I did it once.”
“Yet you don’t know what she means?” It was pastor Brent’s turn to question her, eyebrow cocked. His large hand lay over his manhood, barely covering it, but making her wonder what he planned on doing with it next. “If you don’t know, then you’ve had a rather- unsatisfactory lover.”
“He was alright,” Corrine said weakly, eyes still riveted on his manhood. Every few seconds the meaty head would bob into sight. Did it look right, or was it an alien cock? She wasn’t sure if she could tell the difference. Could Lacey? The thought of Lacey sleeping with so many men made her shiver. Poor sweet Lacey, corrupted so early.
“Do you want to play with it?” He gave her a comforting smile. “No pressure, we’re all friends here.”
Lacey laughed at that. “Lovers, you mean. We’re all lovers here.” She gave Corrine a wink. “It’s alright, play with it. I’ve got your back.” She slipped away and Corrine had every urge to pull her back between her legs. Lacey took a comfortable seat next to Corrine on the desk, watching as pastor came between Corrine’s legs, hand still covering his junk.
“Have you touched?”
Corrine shook her head.
“Go on then, if you want.” His hand slid away, letting the beast bob by itself, an inch or so from Corrine’s wet pussy.
She had visions of it spearing her. It would hurt, she was sure of it, just like last time. But the look on Lacey’s face as she came… Did it really feel that good? Corrine reached a hand out tentatively, touching it with just her fingertips. The skin was tacky, not slick anymore. Lacey’s excitement had already evaporated. It smelled almost earthy, good, like Lacey. Corrine had an urge to give it a good sniff, but she stopped herself. That would be weird, and Lacey was watching. Better to not do anything too odd. Instead she wrapped her fingers around it, sliding her hand up and down just the slightest.
“Does that feel good?” she asked, glancing up at him.
“Being touched by a beautiful woman always feels good.” His insanely ripped pecs twitched once or twice, drawing her eyes. She slid one hand over them without thinking too hard, wanting to touch him everywhere, feel what the rest of him felt like, cock still in hand. His chest was firm, the hair around the small flat nipples tickling her palm as she smoothed it downwards. His stomach was delightful too, a washboard of abs, chiseled out of marble. That led her straight down to his compact hips. She caressed the left, feeling the bones as well as muscle, so different from her own.
His hand came down, engulfing hers, taking its place, guiding the head between her legs, poising it close to her openness, head glistening with a rivulet of wetness. Corrine panicked ever so slightly, jerking, but his voice was so soft and comforting.
“Shhh, I won’t hurt you. Just let me touch you, just a little. It will feel good.”
Lacey stroked her hair, scooting closer, kissing her neck as extra reassurance. Corrine relaxed, opening her legs a little more. Nervousness wavered in her stomach as the head hovered close to her pussy.
She took a deep, long breath as it touched her finally. It was wet and warm, laying against her clit, hard, sliding gently down, over her lips, then back up again. Corrine whimpered. That wasn’t a feeling you experienced every day.
“I like that,” she managed to say softly.
The pastor gave her a lopsided smile, still intent on his cock. He slid it slowly downwards again, then back up, circling her swelling clit. The next time it went down, the head nuzzled her opening, pressing between the lips, exploring like his tongue had explored her mouth. Corrine would have closed her legs, but it felt like a direct shot of pleasure. Besides, he didn’t make any sudden moves. He pressured her entrance, pulling back then pushing in again three or four times, until she knew without a doubt that she wanted it.
“Put it inside.” If he didn’t, she thought she might kill him, that was how good it felt.
He wasn’t about to withhold though, hands stroking her sides, angling for her breasts as he pushed deeper. His massive thumbs rubbed over her stiff nipples. The head disappeared into her wetness, followed by an inch of hardness. Corrine squirmed, pushing her breasts against his warm hands. It was tight, but amazing, sweeter and more addictive than anything she’d ever experienced before. His fingers played around her nipples, rolling them without warning, an unexpected thrill. Another inch disappeared and she could feel it like the first time, deep and unrelenting. There were still a few more inches left, nowhere for them to go, she was sure of it. He had to start doing her now.
“I’m sorry it doesn’t all fit. I’m small,” she whimpered, cheeks burning.
Lacey chuckled close to her ear. “Sweetheart, it’ll fit, trust me.”
The thought was scary, horrifying. “No, it won’t!”
The pastor tweaked her nipples harder, his breaths coming in puffs. “Relax, we don’t have to.” He pulled out, pushing back in, no more than before, showing that he was serious. “Don’t be sorry, small is good, so good.” He took up a steady rhythm, as expected. Corrine focused on the warmth spreading inside of her. That was different, nothing like her first time, easy. She let him take control, each stroke making the warmth evolve into a fire. She was just about on the edge when she dared to look down, watch it disappear, not two or three inches. No. The whole damn thing! She gasped, but quickly lost track of the thought, head falling back. It did fit, and she suddenly wanted every inch of it, even the inches that weren’t there. He gave it to her generously, hips rocking faster, jostling her roughly. It was just right. Everything slipped away, every worry, every pain.
A small wonder that Jade didn’t mind being tentacled.
After she leveled out, he pulled out with a grimace. She thought for a second he might be in pain, but then she realized that he was simply holding back. His hand stroked his now soaked manhood, and within seconds it twitched, coating the inside of her thigh with sticky white semen. Lacey made a cooing sound, pleasure. Her fingers quickly traced up Corrine’s thigh, scooping at the semen, bringing it to her pretty mouth.
“Why are you eating it?!” Corrine couldn’t take her eyes off of the sight, despite the feeling of disgust unfurling in her stomach.
“It tastes good. Want to try?” Lacey offered a semen slick finger.
Corrine wrinkled her nose. It smelled awful. She gave the offered finger a tentative lick, then shook her head. “No thank you.”
Lacey sucked on her own fingers again, then bent to lick away the remainder from Corrine’s thigh. “It’s an acquired taste.” She admitted, sitting back and stroking Corrine’s hair.
The pastor looked like he was in heaven right now, just watching the two of them. He pulled Corrine closer, stroking her bare back. “How do you feel?”
She felt fine, more than fine, but now the realization was heavy. This wasn’t over. If anything, it had only begun. He had Lacey all wrapped up in his spell. It was only a matter of time before he tentacled her. Probably sometime when Corrine couldn’t be with her. There was only one solution—
“Tentacle me, not her,” Corrine blurted, closing her legs against his svelte hips, staring hard at his smooth chest.
“Is that what you call it?” Pastor Brent looked amused, not denying anything.
“What do you call it?”
It had never occurred to Corrine that it might seem normal to him. “Like… food?”
“Well I can’t just starve myself. Do you think I enjoy it?”
“What do you mean by ‘tentacle me’?” Lacey asked curiously, sitting on the desk cross-legged, glistening pussy on full display.
Corrine gaped, not sure what to say.
Pastor Brent answered for her. “I’m an alien, disguised as a man.” He leaned in, biting Corrine’s lip, kissing her hard.
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lacey was twirling her hair around her finger again. “You’re too handsome!”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Pastor Brent gave Corrine’s nipple a light pinch, licking his lips in a sexy arrogant way.
“I won’t believe you unless you show me,” Lacey said flatly, sitting up straight.
Corrine took a sharp breath. “Lacey, please, he’ll hurt you.”
“You already offered to let him tentacle you, so let him.”
Corrine instantly felt a pang of hurt, betrayal. Could she be any more flippant about it? “Fine.” Corrine made sure to say it in the most sulky way, shooting Lacey a dark look. Her stomach took a flip though; this could turn out very badly. Sure, Jade had seemed fine after her tentacling, but that didn’t really mean much. “Tentacle me.”
“Are you sure?”
He was grinning already, the predator! Corrine leaned back on her hands, thrusting her chest up, squeezing her eyes shut. He kissed her collarbone first, then just above her left breast. It’d felt so good, the way he’d sucked on her nipple. Maybe tentacling would feel like that, if she was lucky.
Corrine couldn’t keep her eyes shut much longer, peeking through the slit of her eyelids. Why was he taking so long? That was just about the time he opened his mouth wide, just the way he had with Jade.
Pastor Brent shuddered.
He hadn’t done that last time. He also hadn’t lit up. For a second it was like blue light was seething from his skin, bathing the room in a freakish hue. Then there was a pop, and he was, gone. Corrine almost fell back off the desk, but Lacey caught her by the arm.
“Relax.” Lacey didn’t look surprised or frightened in the least, turning a small object over in her hand lazily.
“Did you… do that?” Corrine eyed the compact little object. It whirred quietly, like infinitesimal wings, then promptly melted into Lacey’s palm.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve taken care of the bastard for good. Now what you should really be worried about is what I’m going to do to you.” Lacey grinned with that same dreamy look as before, straddling her quickly, warm pussy resting ever so slightly against Corrine’s.
Corrine couldn’t manage anything above a whisper. “You’re an alien too. Oh Lord almighty.”
“I am.” Lacey’s hands slid under her ass, giving it a good squeeze. “Would you like to know what I eat?”
Lacey nuzzled her ear, voice dropping low and husky. “I eat pussy. Only pussy.”
Copyright © 2017, Meno Silencio. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.