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Beth looked around the room and identified several items that would have English equivalents. She motioned the man over. "Table," she said.
"Lukita."
She showed him how to press the button to tell the machine of a direct counterpart. Over the next half-hour, Beth programmed three dozen words. She checked the light on the device—it still glowed red. It needed more time.
"So, tell me about yourself," she told the old man. "Why did you buy us? You don't seem like the slave-owning type."
The man shook his head.
"I know you don't know what I'm saying, just talk to me," she insisted, pointing to the device.
The man spoke a few words, then fell silent. Just like a man, he wasn't much of a talker. Beth got another idea. She approached him. Taking one of his hands into hers, she brought it to her breast. "Breast," she said.
"Murisk," he murmured. She pointed to the U.T. He pressed the button and repeated the words. He seemed less afraid of the machine now. That was one big difference between these people and Earthlings of the 16th century, she realized. The Devonites were more willing to adapt to change. A device like this on Earth during that time would've sent most men screaming, only to return later to burn Beth at the stake. *Perhaps they don't have the strong religious influences that we have on Earth.*
She touched other body parts—her arm, her head, her leg—getting the humanoid's response in return. Beth was beginning to feel a certain kinship with this man. So she stroked the outside of his loincloth and said, "Penis."
Confusion flitted across his face. He pulled at the loincloth. "Naronga?"
Beth slid her hand past the leather thong holding the garment in place and let her hand wrap around his cock, her fingers tracing its growing length with a slow, exploratory touch. "Penis," she repeated, feeling it twitch and swell in her grip, its thick, alien heat pulsing against her palm. *My God, it's massive,* she thought, her breath catching as she marveled at its size, the bulbous head glistening slightly as it hardened fully. She ran her thumb over the tip, smearing a bead of moisture, and a shiver of forbidden excitement coursed through her.
He smiled and looked down, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Gangar," he said softly. Beth took the U.T. from his unresisting fingers and repeated the words, her voice trembling slightly with arousal. "I'll bet that's not the only word you have for it, huh?" she teased, her hand still stroking him, feeling the veins pulse under her fingers as his erection strained against her touch.
Spike surprised her when he reached out, his large hand cupping her bare mound with a possessive grip, his fingers splaying to cover her cleft entirely. "Slokuna," he whispered, his voice thick with desire as his middle finger dipped slightly between her folds, teasing her entrance with a featherlight stroke that made her gasp. *Gee, which word should I use? The politically correct word or one of the many risqué ones?* "Vagina," she whispered back, her voice husky, "it's also known as cunt, pussy, or Beth's pleasure palace." She giggled, her hips shifting involuntarily toward his hand as a slick warmth began to build.
"What the hell are you doing?" Beth was mortified to hear Greta's voice. The headache pills must be working.
"Uh, oh—sorry, commander. I was just, um, helping Spike here, uh…"
"Never mind. I don't want to know. As an anthropologist, I'm assuming you're just doing research. But you'd better be careful—you might learn a lot more than you wanted to."
Embarrassed, Beth tried to pull away, but Spike's grip tightened, his finger sliding deeper, parting her wet folds as he pressed his palm against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He pulled her closer, his erection grinding against her thigh, the heat of it searing through the thin loincloth. "Oh, God. Get a room."
"Shit. I didn't mean to tease him like this, Commander. I was just trying to program the U.T.—"
"Sure you were. And a very effective job you're doing, I can see. As mission commander, you know I'll have to report everything I observe." Beth blanched. Greta grinned, then covered her face with the cloth. "OK, I won't watch. But it's going to be harder not to listen, you know."
Beth was being pulled over to the man's bedding mat in one corner, her resistance fading as Spike's hands roamed her body, one cupping her breast to pinch her nipple while the other continued to tease her slick entrance. "Oh, God, no!" How could she get herself into this situation? Had she secretly wanted to arouse him? Why else would she tease him?
There was something about this man she liked, she had to admit. He wasn't cruel like many of the others appeared to be. He was intelligent and curious, just like Beth. And he was big. At six-three, he towered over Beth's five-four frame. But this man clearly wanted her and didn't care if she carried a few extra pounds. That alone made her wet. *Why shouldn't I get laid once in a while, even if it is with a being from another planet?*
"OK, Commander, I'm only doing this in the interests of science," she breathed.
"I'm not list-en-ing," Greta sang out, her fingers in her ears.
Spike pulled her down roughly onto the mat, his strength overwhelming yet strangely gentle as he positioned her beneath him. She felt delicate in his arms, her body yielding as he peeled his loincloth aside, revealing his massive cock in its full glory. Beth studied it with a mix of scientific curiosity and raw desire—bulbous head, thick shaft, a full size larger than any human she'd known, veins pulsing with need. An urge to taste it surged through her, but unsure of the custom, she instead wrapped her fingers around it, stroking slowly from base to tip, her thumb circling the sensitive head as pre-cum beaded at the slit. Her pussy gushed in response, a hot, wet ache building as she imagined it filling her.
Spike eased between her thighs, his hands spreading her legs wider, and she opened to him almost eagerly, her breath hitching as the tip of his cock brushed her entrance. This man—this humanoid—wanted her! He had to have her. She wasn't going to deny him. Beth reached up, pulling him down to kiss him, her lips crashing against his in a hungry clash, and he kissed her back with surprising tenderness, their tongues tangling in a shared human trait that sent a thrill through her. *What do you know? Another human trait the species share!*
She reached down, her fingers parting her slick folds to guide him, her body trembling with anticipation as she wanted him as much as he wanted her. *I haven't been laid in more than a year!* Still, it was risky, she knew. This species' sperm could be harmful to humans. There could be microbes we have no defense against. Even as these thoughts raced through her mind, Spike pressed his alien cock into her, the thick head stretching her tight entrance with a slow, deliberate thrust. It was a tight fit at first, a delicious burn as he wiggled and pressed, her pussy gushing fluids to coat his enormous length until he slid fully inside, his heavy balls slapping against her ass with a rhythmic thud.
Beth widened her legs further, a deep, shuddering sigh escaping as he filled her completely, the sensation overwhelming. "Size does matter," she whispered, her voice breaking with pleasure. Spike pumped into her with earnest intent, his thrusts deep and powerful, driven by his own need rather than her pleasure, yet the friction against her inner walls sent waves of ecstasy building within her. *Or maybe it's the fourth kind,* she mused, her scientific mind warring with the primal heat consuming her.
Beth felt an orgasm rapidly approaching, her body tightening around him as he adjusted her position, pulling her legs up over his broad shoulders to bend her almost in half, the new angle allowing his cock to plunge even deeper, hitting spots she didn't know existed. The sensation was overpowering, a crescendo of pleasure that made her moan incoherently, her throat raw with inarticulate cries. She didn't care if Greta could hear—in fact, she was lost to everything but the building climax, her nails digging into his arms as he thrust harder, his grunts mingling with her gasps.
He surged forward with a final, forceful thrust, and she felt his hot sperm erupt inside her, a flood of alien warmth that triggered her own orgasm. She gasped and cried out, her body shaking violently as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her pussy clenching around him in rhythmic spasms. "Sweet Jesus! Oh God!" she screamed, the intensity leaving her breathless, her vision blurring with ecstasy.
Thankfully, there was silence from Greta.
Spike pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with their combined fluids as he stood, adjusting his loincloth with a satisfied grunt. He said a few more words to her, then went to the water bucket for a drink. Beth was incapable of movement, lying spread wide open on the mat, spent and trembling, her thighs slick with his release as it leaked from her in a steady trickle. *My God! I've just been fucked by an alien!*
When she was finally able to regain control of her limbs, she rolled over and sat up, more fluids gushing from her with a wet sound that made her blush. She looked down, amazed. *The men on this planet come a gallon,* she observed. *No, let's be more scientific. Maybe it's just a quarter-cup. Still, it's a lot compared to mere Earth men.*
Groggily, she got to her feet. Spike was saying something to her, pointing. She looked and saw a fireplace in the corner, same as at Lumpy's house. He mimed putting food in his mouth. *He wants me to cook after this experience? God, some male characteristics are universal,* she mused.
Beth dragged herself to the fire. The coals were still glowing from a previous meal, so it was easy for her to add some kindling to rekindle a flame. She added wood. Looking around, she wondered what kind of food they had on this planet. Beth was a good cook—but the food here might not be edible for an Earthling. At a minimum, it might taste bad.
She opened a cabinet near the fireplace and rooted around. There was a half loaf of a dark bread. She sniffed it. It smelled vaguely like rye bread. A bowl contained some wilting vegetables, including what could pass for mushrooms. And wrapped in burlap, there was a steak of some sort that smelled like it had been left too long in the sun. Beth wrinkled her nose.
"Oh, boy," she whispered, "roast beast."