Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Experimentally, she reached between her thighs. A low moan broke from her lips as her seeking fingers found her clit. It was as though someone had touched her with a vibrator, sending shockwaves of buzzing pleasure through her body.
Again, it wasn’t quite an orgasm but it was close enough to make her long for one. The pleasure building up inside her was intense enough to be uncomfortable, making her feel “horny out of her mind” as her best friend, Lacy would have said.
“Maybe I just need to take care of myself,” Iyanna murmured under her breath. Remembering her fear that someone was watching her, she looked around the room but saw no one. To be on the safe side, she climbed back onto the huge mattress and pulled the silky green comforter over herself.
Reaching between her legs, she began to touch herself—or tried to anyway. But the feeling was simply too intense. It was like someone was electrocuting her clit with pleasure every time she so much as brushed her fingers over the sensitive little button. It felt good but it was too good—she literally couldn’t stand it!
“Well, what am I supposed to do now?” Iyanna muttered under her breath, when she finally realized it was useless. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t reach any kind of release and in fact, she seemed to have made the problem worse since she now could barely stand to press her legs together, let alone touch herself anymore.
How was she supposed to explore the ship and catalog and study all the various alien flora when every step she took made her feel like she was being poked with a vibrator that had the strength of a cattle prod?
While she was still contemplating her dilemma, she heard a knock on the front door of her new suite and a voice called,
“Hello there? Is Missy Eee-yannie there? I was tolt to come and see you!”
“Oh my God—the guide!” Iyanna gasped to herself. She had forgotten all about him! Now she remembered that Commander Rarev had said he would come early—but not this early!
She scrambled out of bed, ignoring the lightning strikes of pleasure between her thighs that threatened to cripple her with their intensity. Throwing on a robe, she ran to the front door, wincing with every step. This sensitivity must have to do with the pleasure bloom seed that had been deposited inside her the night before, but she had no idea what in the world to do about it!
Reaching the front door, she slapped the button that made it slide open and saw a wizened old man standing outside her suite.
Well, he wasn’t exactly a man, Iyanna saw, since the bottom half of him was covered in fur and he had hooves instead of feet. Also, two curly ram’s horns sprouted from his forehead, coming out of a thick head of curly hair. A long beard grew from his pointed chin, completing the look of a wise old grandfather.
Both the hair on his head and face and the fur on his legs was almost completely gray, though Iyanna could see evidence that it had once been a rich, chestnut brown. But his faded green eyes were sharp as he looked down at her.
“Hey now, missy,” he said. “Might you be Ee-yannie, the new plant grower come to study all our blooms?”
“My name is pronounced ‘Eye-ahna,’ Iyanna said, smiling. “But yes—I’m the plant grower. Er, botanist.”
“Course you are—you got that air about you.” The old satyr nodded at her knowingly. “Bet the plants just love you, don’t they?”
Thinking of exactly how much she’d allowed certain plants to “love” her the night before, made Iyanna’s cheeks heat with a blush.
“Er, I suppose so,” she said. “And you must be Stor’kuum, the guide Chief Commander Rarev promised to send me.”
“Sure and I am!” the old Satyr said proudly. “He asked me to take you all around, so he did. For, says he, ‘Stor’kuum, you been here the longest and so you know the most about the Mother Ship.’ ‘Why yes I do, Commander’ says I. And t’aint nothin’ but the truth for I’m a hundred and twelve cycles old on my last nameday and nobody aboard can top that number!”
“A hundred and twelve? My, that’s impressive!” Iyanna’s smile was rather forced and she was trying not to shift from foot to foot as she stood there in the doorway. She was feeling more and more uncomfortable as the intense sensations between her thighs continued unrelentingly. “Um, would you like to come in?” she asked the old satyr. “I just need a moment to change before we go out on our, uh, tour.”
“Sure and I will, Missy Eee-yannie.” He nodded agreeably as he stepped inside, his hooves sinking into the blue moss carpet.
Iyanna thought about trying to correct his pronunciation of her name again and decided against it. At a hundred and twelve, Stor’kuum was no doubt set in his ways—nothing she could say was going to change him.