The Moaning Forest

Chapter 1: Brave New World

It’s been two months since we left Earth behind. It’s a real shame. Nuclear meltdown at the largest dumping facility on Earth prompted the powers that be to rush us all onto space ships. I’m told that our ship escaped just in time, and that now returning to the Earth that we used to call home would be a certain death sentence from worldwide radiation.

There’s lots to be thankful for aboard this ship, everything is orderly, and apparently our planet’s former days into distant radio communication means we are friends with the planet we are headed to. Until the proverbial “hitting of the fan” happened, no-one on Earth really knew that the government had made friends with a planet in a neighboring solar system, much less made a pact with them. According to them Area 51 turned out to be our saving grace after all.

What really struck me as odd is the number of women on this ship. I would have figured a more even percentage between the sexes. It seems as I’m in the majority here, and we’re all equally hot. We’ve been encouraged to reproduce to solidify the species on the new planet, too. It’s another shame, really, I’ve been horny since we left, but I don’t foresee any of us getting it on anytime soon unless the men are already on the new planet. As we hurled through space, I was hopeful the new life would be at least as good as the old life. This is how I went from lust to love. My name is Leslie. This is my story.

As we approached the new planet, the captain had told us to take our seats in the main cabin for the landing. We were all told our new home, the planet Grog, was a perfect match for us in so many ways. Looking through the window from my seat, Grog really did look very much like the Earth we left, albeit with five moons. The entire landing of the ship was more like a typical Earth “airliner”; and looking out of the window as we came down to land, most of the planet looked very similar. That is, at first glance anyway.

None of the architecture was the same. Buildings appeared very futuristic, lots of wild shapes and colors. After we landed, dis-embarking from what we’re told is a ship, and walking into what even the locals called an aeroport, was funny enough. Most of the buildings simply had entry openings instead of regular doors, and in what I would call a terminal, we all met up, per the captain.

The captain started, “Okay everyone, I know we’re all anxious and perhaps a little excited to be here. So am I. I have instructions from the planet’s, well, what they call a ‘Loytuff’; which is kind of like what we would call a public order minister, that each of us are to report with our bags to that office over there as soon as the bags come off the conveyor. I’m told they’re like an orientation department that will help us get situated here. Everyone good?”

We all replied or nodded with various degrees of excitement; or lack thereof. I was doing my damnedest to hold my excitement in. Being an adrenaline junkie on Earth meant that I was now operating on the notion that I was going to make this new planet my oyster; and that I was fully intending to experience everything it had to offer. This of course, included, anything to do with sex. As a good looking 21 year old, I had it going on back on Earth. Everyone wanted the five-foot-ten-inch-134-pound-oh-so-perfectly-shaped-strawberry-blonde college student from Queens, and I made sure to choose only the best lovers, of both sexes, most of the time.

Now, of course, I made mistakes. On Earth, I partied hard to make up for studying too hard. The hard partying made for some interesting problems also. I even missed out on what I now realize was and is a fantastic guy. My two month long interaction with Pat last year back on Earth is another one of those “such a shame” kind of deals. To this day, I wish I could snag him now. He was there for me right after I was unfortunate enough to be raped at a party. I curse myself now to have treated him so badly. I continue to hold a spot in my heart for him, should I ever get the chance to see him again, though, I doubt I would even know what to say to him.

As our bags came out on the conveyor, one by one, just like in an Earth airport, we pulled the ones that were ours, and proceeded down the hall to the Loytuff. As I stood waiting for my only bag, I listened to the voices surrounding me, and noticed everyone spoke what sounded like English, albeit with a different accent. I don’t know if I was the only one that found that detail odd, but I did know it would be convenient. Just as I finished mulling that detail, my bag popped up; a plain black roll around with my spare pair of hiking boots, a few shirts, a few pairs of shorts, my magic wand, and, hopefully; if customs didn’t pull it; a folder with my savings of $25K in U.S. dollars and all of my credit cards and such. I had no way of knowing if any of it would be worth anything on this new planet, but I always travel prepared, just anyway.

I walked the 100 or so yards to the Loytuff, discovering along the way that I felt rather light on my feet. This detail was reinforced when I did a light skip step. I discovered that what I knew back on Earth as a light skip on my feet, could easily turn into a jump, which meant my low-cut-mid-thigh-high-short-white-sundress didn’t come back down to cover my otherwise naked body in quite the same way on the landing. Gravity, apparently, doesn’t mean the same thing here; not that I’m going to complain about it. After regaining my composure, I walked in, and was met with what I can only guess was the most informed receptionist I’d ever seen. Must have been a local thing.

“Ahhh, Ms. Vatkins, ve’ve been expecting you,” said the receptionist, while chewing on what I later discovered was known locally as a Jerel fruit, which is consumed by local species to turn on personal fertility.

“Hi, how are you. You have me at a loss, you know who I am, may I ask, what is your name?”

“Ahhh, yes, the inquisitive Ms. Vatkins, you should know your file precedes you. You want to know my full name, which is not important but if you must know, it is Safgatahgrt Furhanie. You can just call me Sarah. Your intake consular is over there, in room three.”

“Oh, um, okay. Thank you.”

“You weren’t expecting us to speak English, were you?”

“I still don’t know what to expect.”

“It’s okay, I have a feeling you’ll be fine here. Now go, George is waiting.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Sarah went back to chewing on her Jerel fruit as I turned the corner to go into room three. Inside, George was gluing paperwork together. It seems not everything from Earth translates over after all; I would have used a stapler. It was obvious he was another local, but surprisingly of similar stature to the men I had went after in the not-too distant past. The only problem I was having was with his purple tinted skin. George was not as eager to talk as Sarah was. I tried to open the conversation as I sat.

“Hi, I’m Leslie, one of your new arrivals?”

“Yes and I know I have purple skin.”

“Umm, I was told you’re my....”

“Intake consular. Yeah; you and everybody else. Like they couldn’t figure out how many is too many.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I just...”

“No, no, you’re all right. Listen, it’s just, well, it’s just been one of those yulars, okay?”

“What’s a yular?”

“Oh, right. A yular is roughly equivalent to what you would have called, wait, you’re from Earth, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, since you’re from Earth, a yular is roughly equivalent to what you would have called a ‘week’. There’s all sorts of things you’re going to learn in Opimbo er, um, sorry, school, about this planet, but know that what you would call a day here lasts 29 hours, with 19 of those hours in the light bouncing off of the five moons. Also know that there are 11 ‘days’ in a yular. There’s more, but you’ll learn it. I studied your file, it says you were valedictorian back on your home planet.”

“Well, valedictorian of my high school, not necessarily of the entire planet.”

“That’s fine, just go through these papers and sign them with this pen here. I’m sure you already know how to do that.”

For the first time ever, whether on purpose or by accident, I trusted a man with my signatures. His demeanor about the whole thing made me empathize with him. I didn’t even read any of the papers I signed, for better or for worse. In those two minutes I felt I could trust him, but I simply couldn’t explain why. I tried to chat him up a bit while we both went through paperwork.

“Umm, George?”

“Yes, Ms Vatkins?”

“Please, call me Leslie.”

“Okay, Leslie, what is it?”

“Is there a place here where a girl can get a good drink?”

“Yeah. Jacobson’s. It’s on the cusp of Yvette and Dorset.”

At this point I stopped signing. I needed to get George’s attention. I couldn’t explain it, but Mr. Purple Skin was turning me on. Finally, he stopped long enough and actually talked to me.

“What is it Leslie?”

“I’m trying hard not to be too forward, but, maybe it doesn’t translate into your culture the way I’m thinking. Help me out here.”

“Forward? Normally I can read people, but not while I’m trying to work. A drink?”

“Well, I was hoping.”

“Well, I don’t drink.”

“Well, you don’t have to drink alcoholic beverages, right? On my home planet, the DD orders a club soda.”

“No, I mean, my side of my species doesn’t drink. At all.”

“What?”

“The masculine players in my species absorb moisture from the air. We don’t drink alcohol, we don’t drink aqua, we don’t drink ‘club soda’, we don’t drink at all. We absorb moisture from the air and produce juice.”

“Whoa.”

“The feminine players in my species drink the juice we produce for breakfast. You see, in my species, the mature females rely very heavily upon the mature males for survival. They have to be filled with juice at least once each yular or else they die off in a matter of months.”

“And if no-one drinks your man juice, what happens to you?”

“Then I get really aggravated and really ornery, really quick.”

“How familiar are you with humans, George?”

“Loosely.”

“We have similar urges George. I can’t help but wonder...”

“What are you thinking, Leslie?”

“Well...”

“I can’t believe I’ve just been asked out by a human...”

“Well if you don’t want it...”

“I’m just trying to figure out how we’re going to schedule this.”

“I’m the last girl off of the plane, er, ship, whatever, there shouldn’t be anyone else coming in through that door, er, entry way, thing, can we improvise?”

“Nah, doing that in an office is a cardinal sin. There’s a series of rooms just for that on the other end of the main terminal. They’re called Cholua.”

“Do we have enough time?”

“The transport leaves in 25 minutes, get your papers signed as quickly as you can and we’ll see.”

Never before had I signed my name on so many official documents so quickly. I did scan them, and they all seemed right and correct, so I went with it. I was so horny, I wanted to experience this “juice” whatever it was. I wanted to drink it, to savor it, to be filled by it. Four minutes later, I had signed all of my paperwork, which started the ball rolling towards a fate that no one could have possibly guessed. Holding in my excitement as best as I could, George and I briskly walked to the Cholua.

Upon entry into the Cholua main atrium, it became obvious what it was for. For the first time since landing on the planet, I found rooms with doors. There was a lot of moaning from many different voices, that alone got me humming. Apparently feeding off of your man in public was an openly accepted practice here, as the main atrium had some naked couples at tables, just going at it. It was interesting to see though, that the men had what appeared to be penises between their legs, albeit large and very strangely shaped; which was a massive turn-on for me; and it appeared another one that came out of their mouths, which was to be inserted into the mouth of the lady. I stood in the middle of the atrium and watched a very attractive orange couple turn red together as the man busted loose and filled her to the point it was gushing out of every gap she had. At that point, I started to worry if I had that capacity or not, they had to have spilled at least a half gallon’s worth of fluid. Even still, I stood there watching, dripping with anticipation of what I was about to experience.

“Leslie, come on.”

George took my hand, and guided me into a room, closing the door behind us.

“I hope you like what you’re about to feel, Leslie, I haven’t filled anyone in nearly two months, I may overfill you.”

“Well, you can just pull it out if you feel like you’re overdoing it.”

“Actually, no, I can’t.”

“What?”

“The phallic members, both the one in my throat and the one in my sack are locking knot style. Once they’re in you, they’ll be locked in you until I’m done. If you don’t think the risk is worth it, let me know now.”

“It’s worth the risk. I want to feel it. I’ll make room. C’mon George, fill me up.”

“Okay.”

I was hoping for just a quickie. As it turned out though, George somehow knew that I liked to be handled slowly, and seduced. He seemed to time it exactly right. We stood there in Cholua room 8, as George kissed me lip to lip, without extending the phallic tongue. We moved slowly, in a passionate sensual make-out session. He knew exactly where to put his hands and how to touch me. Then, he pulled away, slowly, and stared me in the eyes, both of us with a want and desire that had been unmatched for some time. I raised my arms at the ceiling, and in that precise moment, he tugged up at the sides of my low-cut sundress, slowly lifting it up over my head and then tossing it onto the sofa.

Now I stood there wearing nothing but my pair of strappy sandals, still staring at this alien man, wondering what is going to happen next, still dripping with excitement. Still filled with the image in my head of man juice spurting out of every loose orifice at the mercy of this man. As he stood before me, I began unbuttoning his dress shirt while playfully kissing him, one little button at a time, I noticed the label, “made in Mexico” reminding me of home. Meanwhile, he was massaging my bosom, and drawing pretend circles around my now erect areolas with his fingers. Alien he may be, but so far I was loving it.

I moved to unbutton the pants and I made quick work of the zipper. They fell to the floor to reveal this man’s physique. A beautiful physique. This man-alien had the body you see on the cover of romance novels, apart from the purple skin. His downstairs member, already large and erect, was visibly pulsating with his heartbeat. Like a hormone driven teenager, I started tugging on it with my hand, instantly wanting it.

“You better put it in before it gets too big. If you wait till it swells you’ll never get it in.”

That was all I needed to hear. As we stood, I opened my legs and took it in. All of it. I have no idea how big it was going to get, but it was already huge.

“Don’t move, put it all the way in. Let me swell up inside of you, then we’ll move around, that’s the sexy stuff.”

“Oh god, George, it’s so big. It’s huge. Ahhhh.” I began trembling just from being impaled on this thing. George then put his hands firmly on my shoulders to push me down on it. When he did that, I felt it go even deeper. I could feel it changing shape inside of me, and in a matter of moments, his cock was locked into my pussy. All of it. And it was still pulsating to boot, I could feel his three count heartbeat pounding hard between my legs, and I was loving it.

“Ahhhhhhh. Ahhhhhh. Ahhhhh. George..... Oh..... George........ Ahhhhhhh....”

George started rocking me around on this now massive shaft that I was admittedly unprepared for. I had already started my first orgasm, but the pounding was about to really start. I was in for one hell of a ride. Suddenly, I looked down at what used to be my flat stomach. There was a now a lump there, as I could see some of the shape of his man muscle through my skin. Then, I looked up to find his throat cock was now out, dripping and ready for me to drink from it. It was now or never, so in my orgasm-induced stooper, I figured, what the hay, right?

I took the throat cock into my mouth, and began sucking on it, just like I used to do oral back home; although, it was never quite like this. As my legs trembled, I sucked and slobbered, noticing his throat cock was getting longer, and with every thrust it was becoming harder to pull my head back away from it. This must have been what he meant when he said, “locking style”. I continued to try to pull away with my throat and bounce with my pelvis. I figured this was it, I was going to get my rocks off right now, no matter what.

Neither one of us could speak, but we were engaged in the unspoken language of lust. He was giving me exactly what I wanted, and I was doing the same for him. We both came at exactly the same moment. As with the couple in the main atrium, George filled me with his juice over and over and over again. By the third filling, it was oozing out of every gap of my body. It was unbelievable how full he was making me. In a 20 minute session I think I orgasmed at least a dozen times. In the last five minutes, both of his units stayed hard inside of me. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move, I was still trembling, and I was an exhausted mess but I was satisfied.

As I stood there, almost lifeless, impaled on double cock from a single man, I thought that maybe I needed more oddball encounters like this in my life. What’s more, he didn’t release me from my locking. With both of his phalli still hard in me and locked into me, he redressed himself, buttoned up, but didn’t; couldn’t, really; zip up his pants; buttoned his own shirt while trying to operate around my chest, and then with the help of someone from the atrium that had just gotten their brains fucked out, used my dress to tie my hands and feet behind his back, so he could walk us back to the office while we were still locked together. I would later find out that our session ran long, and we nearly missed the transport.

On the transport, I was still naked and double-locked-impaled on this alien man called George. The transport had a couple of romper rooms, one of which we borrowed. He continued to thrust and fuck and fill me for the entire five hour trip. I have no idea how many times I orgasmed for that; as I lost count. I stayed impaled on both of his phalli into his apartment bedroom as well, where he dropped his clothes quickly like a bad habit, and we went for another two hour filling session. After this, both of us passed out.

The following morning, I woke up, still lock-impaled on the now sleeping George’s hard cocks. I was sore, but I wanted it again, so I played with his balls until he woke up, and he gave me a morning wood breakfast fuck and fill, and I orgasmed again, hard. After this, we both calmed down again, and I began to worry. With both of his cocks still hard and locked into me, I thought, “this is an awfully long lasting erection. Is he ever going to let me go???”

After this most recent gushing fill, with me still naked, double impaled, trembling, and wrapped around him, he carried me into the shower. With the warm water passing over me, he lathered me up in what could only be described as peanut butter, even though, I could tell it wasn’t. The lathering action got me hot and bothered again, and I noticed my pussy tightening up again. “Oh no, this is gonna be permanent,” I thought to myself. George later explained the cream he used to wash me tightened me up, which led to one more good thrusting and filling. At this point I had his juice oozing out of every orifice of my body. It wasn’t just dripping out of the gap of my pussy, or my mouth near my perfect dimples; it had taken over, and it was oozing out of my ass, my ears, my nose, even my tear ducts and the follicles that held my hair . It was a crazy erotic feeling all on its own, simply adding to the icing of the cake that was that night.

Then, his mouth cock, or throat cock, or tongue or whatever it is, started going limp. It finally retracted, having fucked my throat good for nearly eleven hours straight. I felt all of the juice that was in my throat, and I tried to speak, but all I did was blow bubbles; and that’s when it occurred to me. I thought, how the hell am I breathing?

“Good morning Leslie,” he greeted me after his throat cock retracted.

“Blarrahghagh,” I tried to reply good morning..

“I figured you would have that issue. Don’t worry, that should go away in a few minutes to an hour.”

“Blarragh,” I burbled, trying to say ‘okay’.

“You’ve been good, thank you. I needed that.”

“Blar arh, blararg blrrag,” I continued, attempting to say, ‘oh no, thank you’.

“Oh, and don’t worry about the downstairs, it’ll retract out of you in a little bit too. I’d love to continue fucking you, because that felt great, but we have school in a bit, and you need to get ready.”

“Blar ragagag,” I gargled, in a last ditch effort to say, ‘keep going’. I was hooked.

As we stood in the shower, George continued to use the loofah with the “butter” on me, as he explained that he believes the aftercare is just as important as the fucking itself. After his lower cock finally unlocked and released me, it took every bit of will power I had to stand up in the shower. I was so spent and weak, it was unbelievable. I was fortunate that George was caring enough to hold my wobbly ass up as he was washing me. My emotions got the better of me. It had been a very long time since I felt so loved so quickly.

In a couple more minutes I finally managed to pair down enough juice in my throat to speak. I made one big gulp and managed it. As the juice was oozing out of all of my other orifices I attempted to ask a basic question. “George?”

“Yes?”

“Is that how your species get pregnant?”

“Well, that’s part of it. You have to eat Jerel fruit right after you’ve been filled to fertilize the eggs. I don’t think you can get pregnant by me though, I think you have to be my species.”

“Oh, well that’s good to know.”

“Why, did you want to try it?”

“No, no, I’m just curious.”

“The real question is, did you enjoy it?”

“Hell yes. Every minute of it. I need your number, oh wait, I don’t have a phone! Aaaaah, damn it!” I decried, as he rinsed the “butter” off of my baby soft, smooth skin.

“It’s okay, here in the Opimbo, you’ll be in this inner circle for a while. The Minister of Orientation of Zulag County here on the planet Gorg does not want new arrivals like yourself going out into his countryside unprepared. As such, you’ll be here for a while, learning local customs and extensions to English that you haven’t heard before.”

“Ah,” I said, just as he turned off the water.

“I’ve taken a liking to you, and as your intake consular, I want to see you succeed and thrive here. I’ll take you under my wing personally if I have to.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet,” I said as I tried in vain to stand up on my own in his bathroom.

“Well, maybe; here let me get that. We have air-dryers built into the showers here, but I like using towels; we used to import them from your planet, hopefully we’ll start making them here.”

“Thanks,” I said sweetly, as he toweled me off. I was so conflicted. I didn’t really want a relationship with this guy, just a good screw every now and again, but man he was tugging on my heart strings..

“Your bags are in the left closet, go ahead and get dressed. We have about an hour before class.”

 

“Ok.” As George told me that, it occurred to me that I wasn’t in the dorm with all of the other students. The place looked kind of like an apartment I would have seen back on Earth. All of the furniture was wood, and most of it looked traditional; even though some of it had some strange design characteristics.

As I got dressed I had wondered about all of the things I had missed on the transport ride over, as in, the similarities and, more noticeably, the differences. Within about ten minutes or so we were nearly out the door, both of us ‘dressed to kill’, as the expression goes. Still a bit wobbly, I stepped outside and got a shock.

Standing on the front porch of his apartment, the planet mostly looked like Earth. Green grass, tall trees, and a tarmac paved road sat at the end of a concrete driveway. The similarities were uncanny until you looked up at the sky. Even though it was referred to later by George as a high light morning, what, we on Earth would call a bright sunny day; the sky itself was pitch black and you could see the stars. What’s more, you could look in any direction and see at least one of the five moons. I was so taken back by the view, I didn’t realize George had snuck up behind me.

“That’s Rafina over there.”

“Wha? You scared me,” I responded, still flustered from the 11 hours of fucking.

“Sorry, I had forgotten your species lingers. That’s Rafina, the North moon. You can determine your approximate location on the planet and which direction is which once you are familiar with the five moons. I’ll teach you a little later on, that’s next week’s coursework.”

“You’ll teach me?”

“Yes, that’s what an intake consular does here. Here, get in.”

George opened the door to his very unique transport unit. In this unique new world I was seeing all sorts of futuristic stuff. Nearly everyone had egg shaped auto pods and all of the trucks looked like massive eggs. Everyone except for George. I now realized what I was in. Essentially I, the hot student, had just slept with the college professor and was about to ride with him to school in his “imported from Earth” and very familiar to me, dark blue Jag.

“George?”

“Yes Leslie?”

“Did we just do a bad thing?” I asked, still feeling the squish between my legs.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, back on Earth, it’s a bad thing for a student to sleep with the teacher.”

“Ah. Our society doesn’t view it the same way. I’ve studied your home planet’s recent history. You were indoctrinated from birth to view procreation as bad, and are never allowed to celebrate its benefits. On Earth, love and sex are considered to be bad, so nobody bothers to practice it, which means almost no-one is any good at it.”

“Oh.”

“Here, procreation, love, sex, family; it’s all practiced, and celebrated. You’ll be covering that in the coursework too, I forget what days, but you’ll get it.”

“Wow.”

“There’s a lot you’re about to learn, and it’ll be a real eye-opener for you. Also, you should know that my species can pick up on your open brain waves. If you want to keep a secret in this world, you’ll have to learn how to restrict those thoughts to closed brain waves.”

“What?”

“I picked up on you not wanting a relationship with me.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t mean....”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t want to have a relationship with me either.”

“Awww, don’t say that, you’re an awesome guy; this is just, all so new to me.”

“No, I already know too many things you aren’t willing to admit. You can be my fuck and fill buddy, but you need to take care of you when you leave Opimbo; and you don’t need me around screwing it up.”

“Why don’t we just take it day by day.”

“Well, that’s your feelings talking, but okay.”

As we drove on to Opimbo I started feeling bad for George. In one night he showed he knew exactly how to love me right, yet it became obvious we both knew it was never meant to be. Arriving at school I was wondering what was next. Apparently, everything is covered under coursework. George had gotten me excited, and eager to learn.....

....and squishy.

Continues in chapter two