2. The Stowaway
We're sorry we missed you, the postal holocard read. We've taken your parcel to the nearest intergalactic delivery planet. Please collect within 7 planetary rotations.
James twiddled the holocard with his plump pink fingers. Fuck, I needed that package, he brooded. SozPost was a dismal carrier, but one of Earth's only postal services. He considered his options. The crew would bunker at Shen Kuo space station for another day. It would be months before he could order another uniform.
A year has passed since James's promotion to primary diplomat on the Earth ship, ESS Förhud. Since then, his rubberised spacesuit had collected a blemish or two. Grease stains, debris burns and many alien secretions. The suit was beginning to look, in James's opinion, a little scummy. In front of his cabin mirror, he slipped one thick thigh after another into each pant leg and took a deep breath. The design looked dated, embellished with stone grey and teal panels. The synthetic fibers struggled over his thick midriff and solid package. In only a minute, James could feel the blonde hair on his chest saturated with sweat underneath his suit. A few extra hours at the gym were beginning to show in his arms. James was happy with his figure. Rotund, but in a cute, stocky way, he ruminated.
In spite of the condition of his suit, James was well put together. His fair hair was recently trimmed into a crisp Earth fade with enough on top to look messy all the time. A neatly-shaped beard gave him a friendly, approachable appearance. Feeling dissatisfied, James peeled the spacesuit from his body. Donning a shirt and sweatpants, he got ready for an excursion. Throwing on his favourite pair of spaceboots, he requisitioned a skiff to Planet Åü.
The walk to the fulfillment center was longer than James had anticipated. He had omitted underwear today. The outline of his uncut member rocked beneath his sweatpants as he sauntered. God, it's bobbing like a weisswurst on a string, James reflected. Feeling embarrassed, he determined to make this errand quick.
The built environment of Åü stretched from horizon to horizon. The planet was an ecumenopolis - a planet-wide city. Sleek panes of white metal formed terraces, spires and civic plazas. Woven into the pearlescent architecture, rich blue tree trunks arched with sapphire foliage. Their large, circular leaves were glabrous. Now, towards the end of the day, the dusk light struck the blue-ery giving them a satin-like finish. The sound of the city was quiet apart from the whoosh of vehicles passing overhead. Where was the chatter?
At the fulfillment center, James approached the service counter. He stood before a young attendant. The Åülians were humanoid in appearance with blue skin, hair and eyes. This man was slender and tall.
"Hello," James chimed.
The man stood there in silence.
"Uhmmm," James attempted again. "I'm here to collect a parcel."
The worker made an ambiguous gesture. He departed the counter and disappeared into a back room without making a sound. After several minutes, a larger man emerged. He was 6' 6" and thick around the midriff, arms and legs. His cobalt skin had a velvety glow under the facility lights and his indigo hair was neat and short. Below his nose was a thick chevron moustache softened by a gentle smile. Some wrinkling around his eyes would estimate him at middle age on Earth.
"You'll have to forgive him," the man's low voice had a natural kindness to it. "We don't vocalise much on Åü."
James stared mesmerised. The man gave off dad energy. He wore traditional grey robes. Underneath was a body built for tight hugs and leaning against kitchen counters. James felt his sweatpants tenting. Even half-erect, the upwards curve of his member made its profile difficult to conceal.
"I'm James," he blurted.
"Warren," the man returned in perfect Earthlish.
James paused. He didn't look like a Warren. Even more puzzling was his Boston accent.
"Yah-huh" Warren sensed James's confusion, "my name is W'ūrvʃɪñ, but you might have a hard time pronouncing it."
"Ahh... nice to meet you, Warren," James replied.
"So what can I do for you?"
"I have a parcel."
"Uh-huh. Do you have the consignment code?"
James displayed the code on his tablet.
"Ah yes, let me get that sahted for you." From below the counter, Warren produced a mechanical keyboard and began typing. "Would you like it sent to your canoe?"
This was the first set of tactile controls James had seen since landing. After his mind had caught up to the question, he nodded. James provided his skiff location before making his way back to the space station.
_____________
As the ESS Förhud began its journey to the Jīngyè galaxy, James poured himself another glass of Australian sloe wine. He laid out a few wafers, some slices of ribbed melon and gouda, and a jar of blue-banded bee honey. It was time to relax. Earth had carved out a market for artisanal goods amongst the intergalactic community. Genuine Earth-made was a guarantee of quality. Getting comfortable, he slipped out of his clothes and into a pair of white briefs.
He'd barely placed the first wafer on his tongue when he heard it. A thump. Not the metallic closing of air vents. A very real, very fleshy thump. James froze mid-chew.
"Hello?" James's voice cracked.
Another thump and a shuffle.
“Uh… hey. Don’t freak out, alright?” a low, warm voice came from behind the bunk.
A blue mountain of a man pushed himself to his feet with a soft grunt. James recognised the frame as it unfolded into view. It was thick through the middle, sturdy everywhere else and built for fixing things. The intruder raised both hands in surrender.
"You know I'm going to have to report you, W'ūrvʃɪñ?" James admonished.
James reached for his communicator. Warren lunged, wrapping his arms around the diplomat's torso and lifting him off his feet. James didn't feel restrained at all - more like getting caught in a warm hug.
"Whoa there, small guy," Warren said in a gentle growl, "can't let you do that."
James squirmed against his hold. It was like wrestling a sofa. With a bit of effort, he managed to free one arm.
"Are you… are you even trying?" James demanded.
“I am trying!” Warren insisted, "I don't want to hurt you."
The blue giant sounded wounded. Giving up the struggle, James slumped there mid-air. He didn't know whether to fight Warren or kiss him. As if of its own mind, James's penis began firming up in his briefs.
With an air of disappointment, James's captor walked him to the bed and placed him down. It was astounding how effortlessly he had been lifted. 120 kilograms is not a light pack. Warren sat surrendered on the side of the bed. Why would such a strong guy give up so easily, James pondered.
"What if you pinned me down?" James punctuated his suggestion with closed half-smile.
"Yuh-huh. I could do that!" Warren, now standing, placed his hands onto James's chest and pushed him onto the bed.
Noticing the pause, James continued.
"You could get on top and pin my legs down."
James felt Warren's muscular thighs press on his own. Unff. He let out soft groan from the weight.
"What if my arms escaped?"
The weight shifted. Two goliath hands gripped James's wrists and held them down on either side of his head. Warren's eyes were centimetres away now. Like pools of cobalt, they flitted back and forth like they were memorising James's face. The man above exhaled. His chest rose and fell as their breaths mingled. Lost in the moment, James gambled.
"What if you kissed me until...," he began.
Before James could finish, a coarse blue moustache brushed against his fluffy beard. Two gentle lips parted his own. The kiss was unhurried and warm. James kissed back, savouring the taste of those lips. Warren descended. He kissed James's neck and moved through his flurry blonde chest hair. He kissed past James's bearish stomach and stopped short of the white undies. With the weight on his wrists now lifted, James attempted to sit up. He was immediately pushed down.
"Daddy'll take good care of you," Warren's deep voice was as firm and as gentle as his hands had felt, "may I touch you here?"
James nodded from his laying position. Where did Warren learn that word, James pondered, and why did it feel so natural. James's white briefs tented at full mast. Warren slid James's underwear down. James's cock sprung free and resumed its usual upwards curve. Holding the shaft from the other side, Warren ran his mouth along all 6 girthy inches of soft pink flesh. As he reached the end of James's foreskin, he probed the opening with his tongue. He licked around James's red bulbous tip and around the glands. He tightened his lips around the foreskin and retracted it with his mouth. James moaned as he felt his exposed tip entering Warren's warm, slippery mouth.
Warren worked James's shaft up and down in slow sensuous motions. James could feel Warren taking his time. Warren sucked all the way down James's shaft, burying his moustache in James's pubes. James, accustomed to faster movements, found the long strokes suffocating. James felt every sensation on his member and he was ready to burst with each movement. The pleasure was exhilarating and pleasurable almost to the point of torturous. James reached the edge of ecstacy then, suddenly, nothing. Warren stood up.
"I'd love to fuck you if you're okay with that?" Warren said.
"Yes please," James replied, "...but be gentle."
"Of couahse."
Warren slipped out of his grey robes. Now bare, James eyed Warren's sturdy chest and softer midriff. The dark blue hair on Warren's chest and belly broke up the cobalt of his skin. His arms, thighs and calves were thick and solid. His relaxed, confident posture gave the semblance of an Earthling in his 50s. On closer inspection, his skin looked almost translucent. This was most evident on his member. A single vein ran along all 10 inches of the girthy shaft. The vein looked pronounced in a darker shade of blue. His package was human-like in appearance, with some exceptions. His cock was completely straight with no curve or twist. The deep blue head of his cock contrasted the rest of his member. His cock tapered from a smaller tip to the girthiest part of the shaft and back to a somewhat narrower base. Below his dick was a wrinkly scrotum containing two low-hanging testes.
James rushed to a container of lube, handed it to Warren, and repositioned. James was now on all fours close to the edge of the bed. He felt the familiar coarse moustache on the top of his buttocks before a large tongue invaded his hole.
"Fuck," he exclaimed.
James shook with pleasure as he struggled to remain upright. Warren's tongue wandered down to James's plump balls and up again to his eager hole. James could feel Warren's strong hands spread his cheeks. Warren buried his face as deep as possible, licking and probing the hole with enthusiasm.
After some moments, Warren pulled away. Two slick fingers prodded at James's sphincter, massaging their way around his opening. They worked their way in with smooth dexterity. James could feel them slipping in with relative ease. Warren considered James's comfort level. He pulled out his fingers until their tips and plunged them back in. He repeated this motion with increasing rhythm. Within moments, the fingers were pumping away - a preview of what was to come. Warren’s fingers pressed at James's prostate. James left out a low moan.
“Please fuck me,” James pleaded.
Warren pulled his digits out and lined his cock up. He grinded against the entrance. As he pushed in, James's hole enveloped his thick cock.
"That's it," Warren growled, "you're doing great."
It shocked James he could take it all. His body felt full, like he had expanded in mass or was somehow heavier.
"You feel amazing," James managed to squeeze out a few words.
"Yuh-huh," Warren grunted, "my cock feels at home inside you, Mr Diplomat."
There was something humiliating about the formality. Even more demeaning while he was bottoming for an alien criminal. Warren continued to thrust slowly and confidently. James could feel his hole stretching to accommodate his thicker shaft as it plunged. He also felt it tighten over the tip as it withdrew. The sound of his hole opening and closing for this invader permeated the room. The pleasure was almost unbearable. James was vocal now. He moaned in incomprehensible sounds and grunts. James's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He worried if the whole ship might hear him. In spite of this, every thrust made him want to yell out with pleasure. Warren raised his volume to match James's grunts.
“That's a good diplomat,” Warren growled, “take all of daddy's fat dick.”
Warren lifted one foot onto the bed. He angled his cock down inside of James. Pushing James's head into the bed, he started pounding with new intensity. James's soft pink hole was being destroyed. Each plunge jolted James. James could feel the thick head pushing against his spot. From this angle, each thrust hit the underside of his prostate. It massaged its way upwards in continuous strokes. James's eyes rolled back into his head. The blue giant's heavy balls slapped against James's.
The sensation was so intense that James felt he would pass out. James clutched his cock and balls in a failed attempt to stop them from exploding. It was futile. To the rhythm of Warren's pounding, semen flowed from James's cock. James became enveloped in ecstasy. This wasn't like his usual ejaculations... this was different. It felt less like an eruption. Rather, it felt like Warren was milking the semen out of him. The flow was irregular. It fluctuated from a thin stream to thick globules of cum and back to match each thrust. Seeing the mess he had made, Warren grinned with satisfaction. He could feel the cold cum leaking off the bed and running down his leg.
"You're such a good Earth boy," Warren said in a low growl.
James attempted to talk, but only managed a soft moan into the sheets. With his hand on the back on James's skull, Warren began to thrust harder and deeper. James winched.
"Hang in there, buddy. Daddy's gonna cum soon."
James's vision began to blur over. Warren pulled James onto his thick cock and held him there. James pushed back on the cock as deep as it could go. A comforting feeling of warmth spread from James's belly throughout his whole body. He could feel Warren convulsing as each pulse from his member injected James with alien cum. Each shot sent ripples through James like an earthquake.
"Oh fffff... uck," James spluttered before collapsing on the bed.
Warren followed suit, his heavy scrotum pooling on the bed as he lay on his belly. James let out a long, unintelligible moan.
"Oh golly. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Warren voiced.
"No no," James caught his breath, "you're all good."
"Ahh, I'm glad. My wife would be very upset with me if I hurt a diplomat."
"W... wife?"
"Oh, yuh. She's lovely. I'll tell huh all about you."
James returned a confused look and Warren continued.
"You see, we used to watch The Real Househusbands of New England. She figured all you Earthlings were the same. Yuh'll like big guys like me. I guess she was right.”
Warren sounded too naive and straightforward for James to get upset. That explains the Earthlish dirty talk, James scoffed.
"You know I going to have to report you, right?" James probed.
"Oh yes, of coauhse."
"Why did you escape anyway?"
"From Åü? Hmmm... you might have noticed our world sounded quiet. In reality, it's quite noisy. Our infrastructure relies on telepathy," Warren's face sunk, "as we age, we lose that ability. When it's gone for good, we end up pretty useless back home."
"What do you do then?"
"We submit ourselves to euthanasia," Warren clarified, "it's okay. We want to. It's important for future generations to thrive."
"What if we could find you a place to retire?"
"What do you mean?"
"You could have a second-life on one of our Earth-colony planets. We could teach you all to make things with your hands."
Earthlings were picky about their colonies. The planet needed to be large enough to support an atmosphere. Colonies required precipitation and large bodies of water. The planet needed to maintain a habitable circular orbit around its star. Because of these requirements, Earthlings were spoilt for good weather. Temperate climates were ideal for growing crops and producing artisanal goods. They were also perfect for a comfortable retirement. Within a few quick calls, Earth had rushed a delegation to Åü to sign the New Åü-Earth Trade & Tourism Treaty. Earth would agree to take on migrants from Åü and teach them trades. In exchange, Åü would replace SozPost as Earth's primary postal and logistics partner.
As the ESS Förhud propelled away from the Jīngyè galaxy, James received a parcel alert. Placed into his pigeonhole was a small holocard and a large, dark bottle sealed with a cobalt waxed cork.
To my sexy diplomat, please enjoy this bottle of sparkling juniper wine as a thank you for all that you've done for us. It is the first pressing made with our very own hands. Much love, Warren and Charlotte (the wife)
Beneath the message, the holocard glowed with a photo of two blue figures standing in front of the Plymouth Rock pavilion. They were smiling so brightly it felt like the warmth spilled right out of the image. James examined the wine bottle in his hands, admiring it. New England’s been growing the best junipers since Canada froze over, he mused. Beneath the branding and nutritional text, a small ornate sticker caught his eye. He recognized it instantly, and a slow smile spread across his face.
Genuine Earth-made
