Beedle

Short Fiction by Candy

© 2010

 

 

Even his name was silly—Beedle.  Beedle was different.  Unlike other men I worked with, he didn’t try to get into my pants.  He was shy yet easy going.  Sometimes he said strange things or used strange words, but we chalked it up to what we assumed was a foreign upbringing (though his lineage was unclear).

 

He was always so sweet toward me, yet that didn’t explain why I was so attracted to this unusual man.  Chemistry?  Whatever, I took the initiative one day to invite him to lunch.  He surprised me by timidly accepting.  We went to a café across the street from the office.  I tried to get him to open up, to talk about himself but he wouldn’t.  Was there some trauma in his childhood, I wondered, or a skeleton in the proverbial closet?

 

We made these lunches a regular occurrence.  I couldn’t shake my attraction, nor could I explain it.  It was simply there. 

 

One day as I pressed him for personal details, he said, “I’m not from around here.”

 

“So?  Where are you from?”  I asked.

 

“You don’t know the place.”

 

“Try me?”

 

He looked perplexed.  “‘Try me’?  What does that mean?  As food?”

 

I know I blushed, thinking of the possibilities—and knowing he wasn’t making a double-entendre at my expense.  “Try me means something like ‘test me’, test my knowledge.”

 

“Oh, sorry.  It’s called Xerestria,” he said with a chuckle.

 

“Xerestria?  Never heard of it.  One of those countries that used to be part of the USSR?  I thought they all ended in ’stan.”

 

He chuckled again, “A little further away than that, now let’s drop it.”

 

We went on like that for several more lunches until one day, maybe sensing something that was welling unexpectedly within me, he said, “You want to know about me?  We can go to my apartment and I can show you something.”

 

If this weren’t Beedle speaking, I’d laugh and consider it a poor hook-up line.  However, his mysterious allure drew me to him, fascinated with what he was to show me.  The chemistry, the pull would make me go anywhere, even his apartment.

 

After work, I followed him to his place.  His apartment was sparsely furnished, monastic almost, no pictures hung, completely impersonal.  I wouldn’t learn anything about him from his place of living, I mused.

 

“You haven’t had a chance to decorate?” I asked tactfully.

 

“Decorate?  We do not decorate where I come from.  It is simply an abode.”

 

“Xerestria, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I couldn’t find it on a map.  Googled it too, but nothing came up.  You’re not shitting me, are you?”

 

“What does excrement have to do with where I am from?  Are you making joke of me?”

 

“Huh?”  I said, not understanding where that came from.

 

He added, ignoring my befuddlement, “There is no map.  I don’t believe even one of your earthbound telescopes can see it.”

 

Now I was truly bewildered.  A telescope?

 

“I trust you now.  Look at me,” he said then lifted his shirt, exposing something that appeared as if they were gills on his stomach.

 

I jumped back, aghast at what I saw.  “Wha…what are those?” I stammered.

 

He said, “Don’t be afraid.  Xerestria isn’t a town or a country.  It is a planet.  There are many like me here on Earth.  We are refugees, looking for a better life…”

 

Against my better judgment—a voice within me telling me to flee—I stayed and listened, eventually asking what in hindsight was a stupid question.  “Is there anything else different about you?”

 

“I am not certain if it is appropriate for me to show you, but as you wish,” he said, and began to disrobe.

 

My curiosity, and the strange attraction chemistry, trumped my fear (or decorum).  Maybe I should have been afraid, for he didn’t have one penis but two (!) along with the rest of his amazingly bizarre anatomy.  The two cocks moved independently; and I mean moved, acting like tentacles on a deep-sea monster.

 

He said, “My reproductive organs are not unlike human males’ organs, and you must understand that females on Xerestria have two matching reproductive orifices.  I do not comprehend the purpose of the one human female’s orifice.”  He hesitated, then added, “And I cannot ask you to show me.”

 

Now I should have definitely been afraid, instead I grew aroused by the sight of his two perpetually moving members.  He called one the “fenoz” and the other his “throx.”  He tried to explain their different functions but he lost me; Xerestrian sex and reproduction sounded much too complicated.  The fenoz almost looked segmented, ribbed somehow, with a small bulbous head that contained a slit at its end.  The throx was something else entirely; it was a lighter shade than the fenoz, almost white, which along with its constantly writhing motion and an occasional darting movement gave the impression of a striking snake.  It had no discernable head, simply tapering at the end.  The throx was slightly above the fenoz, and the relative position got me imagining sex positions, so instead of fear I was aroused beyond any other time in my life.

 

“I derive different pleasures from each as well,” he said, smiling, as if he was remembering his last time.  How long had it been, I wondered.  Has he had sex with a human yet?  The throx darted while the fenoz curled upward (like any human male’s cock as it grew erect) and had me wondering if they fought like immature siblings for Beedle’s mate’s orifices.

 

Would they fight for mine?  Would it hurt?  Those fenoz ribs, mmmm.  Shit, I was all ready to surrender myself to him!  God, my panties were soaked!  As if in a trance, I began to undress.  There had to be something unnatural happening here—alien pheromones maybe?

 

He looked at me much as any man would, and his cocks responded accordingly, each wiggling and undulating in manic frenzy.  He said, “We studied human anatomy and customs so we could live among you and eat your food safely.”  He sighed, “You are a perfect representative of a human woman.” 

 

Without asking he began touching me, first my breasts and nipples then down to my abdomen, studying my navel for a moment before moving downward again.  I stood there and let him touch me, while I studied his two cocks.  I certainly was in a sexual trance state.  I wanted him.  I wanted him badly, trying not to think about how it would work.

 

He knelt and studied my cunt in turn, lightly probing before putting his face close.  I felt the dribble of juices running down my thighs.  God, I was going crazy with lust!

 

His cocks really began twitching when he looked up at me and said, “I did not believe humans experienced estrus, but perhaps Xerestrian knowledge is faulty.”  Estrus—being in heat—could he smell it on me, my reaction, my lust?  It MUST be alien chemistry in action; I wanted him to take me and I wanted him NOW. 

 

Again, I wondered how it would work, with his two cocks and my one cunt, then I thought OMIGOD, I have two holes!

 

Before I could protest he maneuvered me onto my hands and knees on the bed (a universal position, I figured) and he took me.  One of his appendages sluiced into my vagina as the other wormed its way into my anus.  I cried, as each cock swelled perceptively inside me, both writhing and jerking almost separate from any thrusts of Beedle’s hips.  I remembered the ribs and knew that his fenoz was in my vagina and rubbing me in all the right places, my g-spot not simply rubbed but stretched.

 

“I’mmmmmmmmmmmmm cummmmmmmmmingggggggggg!” I screamed, convulsing beyond belief.  What an orgasm! 

 

Then my climax kicked up a notch as his throx suddenly went wild in my bowels, stretching my anus (what had to be beyond anything nature intended) to the point my perineum seemed to no longer matter.  I was probably bleeding by then, but it didn’t matter as I continued to scream in everlasting orgasm.  It felt as if his members were trying to break through the now fragile membranes of my lower body and intertwine, which I assumed to be prelude to his ejaculation.

 

My answer was an incredibly intense warmth spreading through me.  He’d cum, soundlessly.

 

I screamed again, wracked by another orgasmic peak I couldn’t believe surpassed the one before it.

 

Consummated, we lay side by side, his two spent cocks still slowly undulating in post-coital movement.  I looked down between my legs to assess the damage.  Surprisingly little blood, but what a creampie!  I had thick, sticky, milky goo leaking from both holes in amazing abundance.

 

I asked him about his regenerative abilities, no longer afraid of him, if I ever was.  “You remain in estrus?” he asked, and I laughed.

 

I taught him about fellatio, which turned out to be a new experience, not something done on his native planet.  He loved it, though I only dared sucking on his fenoz; the throx kept trying to poke out an eye, and I could only imagine in horror that slippery devil going down my throat.  I managed to get him out of my mouth before he came, which was a good thing since his stream was huge.  That would have choked me for sure.  The resulting facial probably looked like those faked “monster cock” videos, but this spraying hose was real.

 

With Beedle, sexual position takes on new significance.  Doing it missionary next, I thought I’d die getting my sphincter assaulted by his fenoz, but that sensation paled in comparison to having his throx go wild and nearly slither up into my womb.

 

“OH MY GOD!” I screamed.  Another fantastic orgasm.  You could say it was out of this world!

 

Beedle and I are still experimenting.  I’m trying to ‘tame’ his throx but it’s been tough going so far.  The member sure has a mind of its own.

 

Nobody will ever know where Beedle comes from but me.  Oh yes, there are others, including some women Xerestrians.  I pity the poor Earthman who puts his cock in the ‘other’ hole!  Look out for the shy ones, the ones who you feel attracted to in spite of their lack of social skills.  And if you fall for one of them, DON’T suck his throx! 

 

You’ve been warned.

 

 

If you liked this story, e-mail me at cottoncandyteen14@yahoo.com and let me know what you think of my writing.    If you liked it, the rest of my stuff can be found at my Candy web site.  Thank you.

Candy