Eternal life. That’s what I wanted. That’s what we all wanted. And the aliens gave it to us. They didn’t have to of course. They were powerful enough that they could have taken anything they wanted. We couldn’t have stopped them. Everyone argues about why they made the offer, especially those of us who took it. Some think it was a sort of religious observance, others say it was their sense of honour. I think they did it because it amused them. I think it amuses them still.
Earth’s first contact with alien life didn’t involve shiny hardware landing on the White House lawn or benign beings beaming their smiling face into every home and telling us that they came in peace. I don’t think it occurred to them to announce their presence to us. Would you announce your presence to the bugs in the jungle? Or to the trees? They didn’t go in for the “take me to your leader” stuff. They wanted earth as a theme park, not a colony. “Take me to your leader” —like they cared.
I met my first alien in a chatroom. It’s not that I was a geek or anything. I was just trying to get laid. I was 42 years old and death’s winged chariot was threatening to cut me off at the knees. I was going to die. Not soon maybe, but it was definitely going to happen. I could see it in the way my body took longer to recover from drinking and my cock took longer to reload. I’d decided that when it reached the point where I had to get up in the middle of the night to take a piss I was going to shoot myself. When I woke in the morning I could smell the stink of my own putrefaction. Yeah I know, trite mid-life crisis. Yawn. Except that this was MY mid-life crisis and it wasn’t fucking funny.
She said her name was Trinity. I thought she was probably one of those folks who know every line of “The Matrix”, and keep saying things like, “gun’s lots of guns”, but I hoped that it meant she was into three-ways. I’d never had one but I meant to try it before I died. I was calling myself “Thriller” in the chatroom. Yeah, well this was a hundred years ago, I was young and had no imagination. I still have our chat stored. Let me bring it up for you.
Thriller: what you wearing babe?
Trinity: I never wear anything
Thriller: Whoa, my kind of girl
Trinity: You don’t like clothes?
Thriller: Well, maybe some leather and lace and some fuck me pumps. *EG*
There’s a lot more like that. It never sounds quite that lame when you’re typing it. Let’s scroll forward a bit.
Trinity: Is there anyone you love?
Thriller: You mean like, am I fucking someone?
Trinity: I mean love: being emotionally engaged with someone to the point where you would automatically place his or her interests before your own.
Thriller: This is getting heavy, Trin. You wanna fuck or what?
Trinity: I want you to answer my questions. If I like your answers I will arrange to meet with you tomorrow. I promise you it will be memorable.
Thriller: So what kind of answers do you want?
Trinity: Honest ones.
We talked for an hour or more. After a while I stopped being Thriller and started being me. It had been a long time since anyone had really listened to me; it felt good. I told her about my (ex) wife, my (ex) mistress, my (estranged) sister, the girl next door who did aerobics in her bedroom with the lights on and the windows open; about the painful way my mother died; and about my own fear of death. I slipped rapidly from glib and cocky to tearful and self-pitying. It was like getting drunk only faster, and Trinity was like the best bartender in the world, abetting my intoxication while sympathizing with the results.
Trinity: Thank you for answering my questions. Be at this address tomorrow at 10pm.
I was so far gone in self-pity that I’d actually forgotten that this was supposed to be about getting laid. After I logged off I suddenly thought, “Wow, I’m really gonna fuck someone I met on line.” Maybe if I hadn’t been so juiced, it might have struck me as odd that a woman I didn’t know and whom I’d just cried all over, wanted to have sex with me.
Trinity lived in a very upscale apartment block in Midtown, the sort of place the doorman would normally have thrown me out of unless I was delivering flowers.
The elevator opened into a reception area half the size of my apartment. I’d have been impressed but I was too busy looking at the naked woman in front of me. She looked just like Trinity in “The Matrix”: short jet-black hair, muscled body, and fighter’s stance. Of course, in the movie I never got to find out whether Trinity shaved her pubes into a narrow little strip that looked like a down arrow.
“Wow,” I said.
I was always good at compliments.
Trinity didn’t smile, she didn’t speak, she just pushed me back against the wall with one hand on my throat, and ripped open and I mean ripped my Dockers. This girl was strong. The pressure on my neck increased and I started to feel dizzy. Her hand on my cock was cool but completely relentless. I started to panic. I was being choked to death by a naked psycho, just when I was getting the most impressive hard-on of my life. My vision was starting to fade and Trinity’s face showed nothing but curiosity. She tilted her head to one side and looked at me just the way Michael does after he’s gutted some teen with his knife in the “Halloween” movies.
Trinity let go of my neck and I slid to the floor gasping. She straddled my cock and slipped it inside of her. Her whole demeanour changed. Suddenly she was straight out of a porn flick: pulling at her breasts and tossing her head back and going, “Yeah, Baby. Oh Yeah. Harder Baby. Oh do it to me Baby!” It was corny but it worked. I came inside her like someone had turned on a tap. When the flow stopped look I hadn’t been laid in a month so it went on a while Ok? Trinity just stood up. My cum was seeping down her thigh and she was looking at me like she was seeing me for the first time.
“Did you enjoy that?” The porn star was gone. This question was asked in the same tone I’d imagined from the chatroom a clever but dispassionate woman who studied men like insect specimens. For a brief moment I wondered if I’d walked into her killing jar, then male ego took over.
“That was great Trin. Did you come?”
“I always come.”
She didn’t sound pleased about it more like bored, maybe even sad.
“What is your name?”
I’d always wanted to be asked that AFTER I’d fucked a beautiful woman. I grinned and said “Jim, Jim O’Hara.”
“Get out of those ripped clothes Mr. O’Hara. There are some people I want you to meet.”
People? Hey, maybe we were gonna do the group sex thing after all. Hurray for me and my sexual charisma.
I followed Trinity down the hall, enjoying the view of her from behind. She led me into a kind of library/multimedia room: big flatscreen TV, fancy audio system, computer rig, books by the wall full, but no people.
“Sit please,” she said, pointing to a leather armchair.
“Where is everybody?”
Trinity leant forward and placed a pair of headphones over my ears. That brought her breasts pleasantly close. I was about to lick them when the aliens arrived inside my head.
I couldn’t see them but I knew they were there. It was as if they were at the top of my skull, out of sight. It was hard to tell how many of them there were because they moved around a lot. Their arrival lasted about a heartbeat and then a screenshow went on behind my eyes colours forming and reforming into random shapes. I couldn’t see Trinity any more. I know I should have been alarmed but the colours filled me with a sense of well being.
“Hi Jimbo, how’s it goin?” The voice belonged to Kieran, my best friend from school. Problem was, he’d been killed on his motorcycle two years earlier the day before my 40th birthday that had been a real bummer.
“You’re dead.”
“Yeah, I know. But they’ve kinda borrowed me from your memory so they can talk to you.”
“Who’s ‘They'”
“The aliens of course. Didn’t Trinity tell you… no that’s right we got distracted didn’t we. It’s been a while since we met someone who needed a fuck as badly as you did.”
“What fucking aliens?”
“The aliens who just used Trinity’s body to fuck you. Look, we’ll prove it. Think about what you’d like Trinity to do for you. Get a real clear image in your head. Then we’ll use her to do it.”
I knew exactly what I wanted.
“We knew you had a good imagination Jimbo. Great image man.”
The aliens restored my sight just in time for me to see Trinity’s lips touch my balls. My whole cock was in her mouth. She pulled back until only the head was in her mouth, sucked hard and then pushed forward to my balls again. She did it slowly, just the way I’d always imagined.
“Oh God,” I said.
“Not God, Jimbo but close.”
“Look, Kieran, no offence man but do I have to talk to them through you. I mean you’re dead and it freaks me out a bit, you know?”
Kieran morphed and suddenly I was speaking to Jean-Luc Picard. Holy shit, these aliens knew what I liked. He was my all time hero. I had this fantasy where I was in a three-way with him and Deanna Troi. We’d take an end each, all ready for action and he’d grin and say “engage” and we’d fuck the shit out of her.
“Death frightens you, Mr O’Hara,”
“Hey, we all die,” I said. Well, I had to try and sound cool in front of Picard.
“Actually,” he said, “in your case that no longer has to be true. How would you like to live forever, Mr. O’Hara?”
Then Picard explained the aliens in that clear calm way he always used on the TV. The aliens travelled the universe as a kind transmission. All that static we’d been listening to for years, hoping to get a message from alien life—well some of it WAS alien life. They travelled to earth and then beamed down through our own comms satellites.
Of course it seems obvious to us now that the best way to travel through space is as data. All that effort we spent on overcoming gravity wells and keeping bodies from decaying in zero gravity and dreaming about finding hyperspace, when the clue had been right there in the early Star Trek stuff ‘Beam me up Scotty’. Turn me into data. Fax me across the universe. E-mail me to kingdom come. And when I get there I’ll look for somewhere to live.
“And I’m the somewhere to live, right?”
“Actually you’re more like an SUV, used by lots of different people for short periods of time to go and have some fun. We are thrill seekers Mr O’Hara. You understand thrills don’t you?”
Trinity started to suck harder and push deeper, making little choking sounds. I understood thrills all right.
“Think of us as body hitchhikers. We won’t steal your body; we just want a ride in it. You’ll still be inside, just the way Trinity is still in her own head, it’s just that she isn’t at the steering wheel anymore.”
“And what do I get?”
Picard morphed into Keanu in that long black leather coat I lusted after every time I watched “The Matrix”.
“Sex. Lots of sex, ” he said. “Oh and you get to live forever.”
“Forever?”
“Cool isn’t it? We get rid of all the things that make you age and die.”
“How long do you ride?”
The alien morphed back into Picard. “We understand that a year and a day is the traditional period for indentured service in your culture. We will improve your body of course, just as we improved Trinity’s. Trinity was originally Carol Parks.”
Holy shit. Carol Parks was a media figure. Reclusive heiress. Interested in science because she wanted something that would…
“…cure her spinal injury? Yes,” Picard said. “She was close to success with the nanotech work she’d sponsored. We just gave her a few additional pieces of data.”
“But Carol Parks is…”
“A fifty-five year old paraplegic recluse. As we said, some improvements where made.”
I stroked the raven hair of the woman who was sucking my cock well enough to keep me on edge without letting me get bored. She sure didn’t look fifty-five.
“Carol wanted a more physical life. We gave it to her. She is, unfortunately agoraphobic to the point where her body shuts down if we ride her outside. But she has a wide network of contacts on the web so we decided to go with the home delivery approach.”
Hell, one minute I’m a SUV, now I’m fucking pizza. These guys weren’t exactly great on the flattery.
“One last thing, like Trinity, you will be responsible for some recruitment. Think of it as a kind of pyramid selling.”
I was losing my concentration. An heiress was blowing my cock while aliens where blowing my mind. My breathing was becoming ragged.
“Why me?” I gasped
“We like your personality: self absorbed, distant, emotionally immature but capable of sustaining a strong fantasy life. So do you want to sign up, Mr. O’Hara? Say yes and we’ll start improving you immediately. Trinity will keep you amused until the work is done.”
Trinity was bobbing her head now. Less deep throat and a lot more suction. I was going to do it, I was gonna…
“YES!” I said and came in Trinity’s mouth.
“Good Decision, O’Hara. Welcome aboard,”
Picard disappeared and I was left alone with Trinity. The alien’s must have started work on my body immediately because I was already getting hard again.
Trinity was sucking dutifully but there were tears in her eyes. I should have paid attention to those tears. Instead, I pushed her back onto her heels, popped myself out of her mouth, looked into her eyes, smiled and said, “Do you like anal?”
I spent three days with Trinity. It was a long three days. One of the things the aliens forgot to mention was that they wanted to be able to ride 24/7, so no sleep for the SUV. I spent the time fucking, eating and watching DVDs. I never really got to speak to Carol Parks. There was always an alien behind Trinity’s eyes, but you could tell that it wasn’t always the same one.
By the end of the third day, I looked about 30 and very fit with it. I was still me but I was the me I’d always wanted to see in the mirror: muscled, good skin, bigger cock, and above all, cool.
On the 4th day I got my first rider. This time there was no picture for me to talk to, no conversation in fact. I was up and moving, but I had no control, I couldn’t even change the direction of my gaze.
When I realized where we were going I tried to turn away. My rider laughed. “Just enjoy the ride, Jimbo. I’m going to have some fun.”
I recognised the voice. My rider had decided to be Jack Nicholson, my all-time favourite actor. I tried to say I didn’t want this but I couldn’t speak.
The alien heard me anyway. “Giddy-up hos,” it said and steered me into a gay-bar.
This wasn’t a discrete place for the gently gay and the quietly curious. It was called “The Cactus Cowboy” and the neon sign showed a happy cowboy squatting over a bright green cactus that was shaped like a cock and balls.
Inside, things got worse, they were line dancing and all of them knew the words to “My achy breaky heart”.
I’d like to say that I don’t remember what happened next but the aliens gifted me with total recall. That’s one of the things that convinces me that they had a sense of humour.
I was steered towards the bar, an inane grin on my face. I stepped up close to a young cowboy, ran my finger through the hair on his muscled forearm, leant up against him and heard myself say, “I can never resist strong forearms. Makes me pucker up all over.”
My would be lover walked off in disgust. Seemed like I was no more successful getting laid gay than I was straight.
“This your first time?” The voice came from behind me. It was deep and smooth, like chocolate for the ear. My rider turned me towards the voice. A tall man, older, maybe 50 and wearing shitkicker shoes, a shirt with pearl buttons and a large black hat—yea hah!
“I’m a virgin,” I said. “But you could change that.”
“Son, I hope you have no ambitions as a writer—you have some of the corniest lines I ever heard.”
I felt myself smile, then I touched his cheek and said “But I’m cute with it, right?”
He kissed me. My tongue pushed into his mouth. I’d never really thought about kissing a guy, but if I had thought about it I’d have imagined myself heaving at this point. Actually it didn’t feel any different from kissing a woman. That was almost enough to put me off kissing any more women.
“Jimbo,” the alien in my head said, “you are such a bigot. It’s a good job I know that you’ve always liked oral sex. Now let’s get you ready.”
My erection surprised me more than it surprised my kissing partner. I held his hand against it and pushed my hips forward.
He stopped kissing me. His hand tightened around my genitals. “I think that you lack romance.” He said, lifting me onto my toes by the balls and making me lean against him. “I think that you’re in a hurry to get back to your wife” He let go of me and I almost fell. “I think you’ll be at your best on your knees with my cock in your mouth”.
He grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me towards the toilets. With an attention to detail that I could have lived without, I noticed that the line dancers had been replaced by couples twirling to the strains of “Yellow Rose Of Texas”.
There were no doors on the crappers. They weren’t being used to crap in. I tried not to look as I was pulled past.
He sat me on the crapper, unzipped, held his cock in front of me (smaller than my new improved version but better than what I used to have) and said “Put that smart mouth to use boy.” Then he handed me a fucking condom. Did he think I had aids or something?
The alien knew what to do. I just watched from behind my eyes as I ripped open the wrapper, put the condom between my lips , and pushed it over the head of his cock. It was cherry flavoured. Who the hell buys cherry flavoured condoms?
I’d never realised cock sucking took so long. And I was really trying. Or at least the alien was. I hollowed out my cheeks, I sucked so hard. I hummed. The alien even widened my throat so I could take all of him at the one time. Just like Trinity had taken me. The guy took forever. Who’d have thought you could get bored with a cock in your mouth.
“Can’t have you getting bored, Jimbo” the alien said.
I took the guys cock out of mouth. “I want it up me.” I said.
I worked him with my hand, squeezing the base. “Right up me.”
“Be quick boy,” was all he said.
I turned around, dropped my jeans and held on to the cistern.
Anal sex hurts. A lot. But the aliens had altered me there too because things suddenly got easier.
“Damn me but you were all lubed up, weren’t ya boy.”
His cock felt much bigger in my arse than it had in my mouth. And he was pushing harder. I knew why I liked anal sex, it was fucking tight. Now I knew why it was so hard to get without paying for it.
I was focussed on the pain right up to point were he grabbed my cock. He was all the way in me, moving back and forth less than half an inch. With every push he would stroke my cock.
“Timing is everything Jimbo,” my Jack Nicholson rider said “Let’s put on a show for the guy.”
I started to groan and then moan and then shout. It was “When Harry met Sally in the crapper and found she had a cock”.
By the time he came up my arse I was shouting “YES! YES! YES!” Then I sprayed the wall with my come.
“Sweet Jesus, boy—you learn fast.” my fuckmate said. He pulled out of me and I felt like my arsehole was gaping a foot or so across.
I waited for Jack Nicholson to say something smart or maybe even offer seconds. Then I realised that he was gone. I was bent over the crapper with my newly fucked arse in the air and cum dripping from my dick and my rider had left.
I turned around and found that my partner had left too. Not even an “I’ll call you”. And after all I’d done for him.
I pulled up my jeans. I ought to have been mad at the aliens, disgusted with myself, angry with the world but all I could think was “My arse hurts”
When I stepped out of the trap people applauded. My little show had attracted an audience. I ran out of there as fast as I could.
When I got back to the apartment I met Carol Parks for the first time. She still had the Trinity body of course but I could see something different behind her eyes.
“The first ride is always rough” she said.
“I don’t want to talk about it. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“My guess would be a gay bar”
“How did you know that?”
“Because for my first time they made me fuck you.”
“?”
“I have a strong preference for girls, Jim”
“But we’ve … I’ve … You’ve”
“Yes. Like I said, the first time is always rough.”
Then I surprised myself. “I’m sorry Carol, ” I said.
It was as if a switch had been flicked.
“C’mere lover,” she said and reached for me.
She was being ridden. I ran for my room and closed the door. Behind me I heard Trinity laugh. I wondered what Carol Parks was doing.
© 2003 Mike Kimera. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.