It was customary to press the button to remove the privacy barrier just before the sex began.

Well, we’d fucked once, but the building demand of more, more, more, was growing loud inside me, and I could see the same fucking glint in her dark black eyes that I had seen while she was rubbing a gorgeous tentacle against me, her damp skin shimmery and colored like sunlight shallow gray-blue-green water.

The secret stolen orgasms were nothing but mere carrots over our heads of what we could do next, and every second of denial was fucking torture.

That’s why Eve slipped her webbed thumb against the button to raise the curtains. She must have wanted this foreplay on full display, too.

I’d never thought about it before. Never thought about what it would be like in detail to be the volunteer scientist on this side of the observation panel.

They were anticipating our fuck. Watching every moment, analyzing every body movement, to see when it would begin. They just couldn’t help themselves.

I realized I really, really liked the attention.

Round two started off slow, very slow: a tempting tease of both our observers and ourselves.

“You ever been with a human?” I asked, listening to the quiet hum of the mechanical removal of the curtain, exposing the almost entirely reflective wall through which my colleges would be observing us, taking note of Eve’s alien mating rituals and the sexual interactions between one of us humans and one of her kind.

I shared a large sofa chair with her, our thighs touching, my chest puffed to maintain an air of professionalism. It wasn’t my fault if her eyes kept drifting downwards to my boobs, veiled by my thin white t-shirt, crinkled from the bundle it was left in after the first round. I hadn’t put back on a bra. Why would I put one more barrier between us? My nips pressed against the fabric, perky and hard.

My eyes weren’t drifting to hers, fat and large and beautiful and exposed by her constant nakedness. They were shamelessly settled.

“No,” she answered, fighting back a smile, and fighting it hard. “Definitely not.”

“Incredible,” I answered, and tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Small talk, small talk, small talk.”

“I’m really bonding,” she answered, losing the fight to laughter. “This is great. I’m learning a lot about you. Really painting a picture.”

“Of course. Impressions count.”

“Been with an alien?”

“I wish," I sighed dramatically, as if she hadn't just rocked my world.

“Hmm.” She smiled. “I bet you don’t make adorable little noises, do you? I bet you wouldn’t look irresistible if you were in front of one. I bet you wouldn't…”

It was like devouring a meal: I slid my tongue out from between my swollen lips as she watched with interest.

And then she hooked each arm around my knees and pulled me suddenly from the sofa, and I flailed a little in surprise, my legs still confirmed to her firm grasp in the air. The plush carpet softened the gentle thump of my back against the ground. “Wh—”

She dragged me towards the wall with the mirror with single-minded determination, shoving furniture out of the way with her shoulders, foot, knees, body, whatever part she could easily thump against it, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and focus. “Eve?”

My shirt bundled and rose up from the friction to expose my bra-less tits within seconds, and I felt the rush of wet to my legs at my aroused body being even further on display in front of Eve, and in front of my coworkers. I laid a palm over a nipple and rubbed, a gentle, aching throbbing from my vagina picking up pace.

Eve finished dragging me, her own back nearly against the mirror where my coworkers and the observation team would be on the other side of the wall, probably recording all sorts of notes and details and watching. Watching, watching, watching. Eyes locked on us and us alone.

I would bet anything they were, at least a little, aroused at the display. A massive elephant in the room that silenced everyone and everything. And the idea turned me on.

Eve dragged me around and shoved my cheek against the glass, one long tentacle wrapping around my right leg, exposing myself further to her. I felt her hand between my neck and back, pressing my upper body down into the ground, keeping me just right where she wanted me.

“Fuck,” I begged, closing my eyes and applying more pressure against the glass, loving the vision my smashed cheek surely was. The desperation and roughhousing. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Eve. Fuck me. Shove a fucking tentacle in. Shove—” She teased at my clit with her appendage, just a tiny, flickering thing, warm and wet but barely any pressure or friction. Just a tantalizing hint of what she could do. The throbbing worsened. God, she turned me on.

I shut my eyes. “Please,” I moaned, too out of it to bother to close my mouth after, panting hard. Jesus, I was probably even drooling. The sweat made me feel hot and bothered enough all over.

I could picture it, picture my image, up close and personal against the window. What a sight I must have been. My boobs buried in the carpet—I bet they could still see my nipples peaking out. I felt almost as if I was observing myself.

My face was flushed, pathetic, red all over, and probably swollen. The tip of her dripping tentacles pried away my labia and pressed around the opening to my vagina in deep, slow circles. I stuck my ass out further in the air, her grip with her other tentacle adjusting to me and then tightening, and I tried to buck against her to get her in, to get her fucking inside me.

“Sec—second hole,” I groaned, in case she needed an anatomy reminder.

She shoved what must have been a thousand fucking inches of tentacle into me as if to answer, I know.

I want to say I cried out but I fucking screamed, trying to dig my nails into the surface of a mirror, and instead dragging them down to grip onto the fiber of the carpet. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck—” So different from anything human, sex toy or otherwise, it was thickening and all-filling and I was fucking stuffed like I would burst. Every nerve in my body felt stimulated, and I honest to god think I fucking began to cry when the tentacle helping hold my body up wrapped higher up my thigh and stretched further, further, until she was rubbing and flicking gently against my clit, her breaths heavy, heavy.

“The—the pressure—” She was primal, barely able to speak in her language coherently in a way that the translator around my throat could translate in my head to English. “The—your pressure—it’s so good.” Her tentacle around my clit jerked and twitched, and so did my thighs, the dual amazing over-stimulation a fucking cosmic sort of heavenly connection.

In the blur, my back was starting to ache, my head and chest pressed against the ground while she raised my legs into the air, my spine practically bent the wrong fucking way. I didn’t care about the pain. In fact, it felt good, even while part of me wanted it alleviated, but most importantly I wanted—I wanted closer. I wanted more.

She slid herself almost entirely out of me, slick and easily from our combined wetness, a harsh pattern of back-and-forth flickering against my clit with her tentacle around my thigh accompanying the movement, and I heaved a sob against the glass, sweat starting to drip around my eyes, fists of carpet fibers starting to come loose.

“Put—”

My eyes rolled up as she forced herself back into the tight space, stuffing me up and hitting all possible spots. “Muh—muh—” The moan was incomprehensible. I might’ve been trying to say More. Every inch—*every inch—*was screaming for it.

A hand brushed against my hair, gently, gathering it over my shoulder, and I angled my head a little to look at her over my shoulder, feeling a strand of drool run out of the corner of my mouth. Gone. I was gone. More. More. I wanted more.

She was blurry and beautiful and glowing like a fucking angel to me, and that’s what she must be, a fucking angel.

Every inch of her trembled, her eyes blown entirely black and primal—almost a predator glint within them, and I wished the angle allowed for sucking my way up to her lips for a kiss. “I—ah—fuuu… y… it’s… Eve.”

“Baby,” she moaned, just as fucking gone and out of it as I was at the sight and feel of me.

She—she swelled, I think, inside me, just a little, the pressure for both of us increasing tenfold. I slammed a single fist against the glass wall, raking my fingernails as fucking claws on the way down this time. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… You—put my legs—”

She slipped out, delicious and slippery and perfect and warm, and rammed back in again, this time wiggling inside me, suddenly rubbing at my clit with a perfectly matching pace.

I felt—I felt it. The pleasure—the start of a build—I just wanted—I moaned. I couldn’t be mad I couldn’t talk. It felt too good. I wanted more. Edge me. Edge me forever.

“’S so good…” I felt her hitting against something solid under my clit, rubbing against every inch of flesh in the air, my groin absolutely on fire. The pressure was delicious and all-consuming, like a fucking—bullet fired again and again—more, more, more.

I pressed against the ground, trying to angle the back half of my body more, almost like I was about to attempt a handstand. “M—pl… shit… legs.” I buried my back into an elbow, screaming my desire and she shook inside me, violently, simulating everything down to the clit that one tentacle wasn’t even touching. Her hands slid up and down my stomach, the sensitive flesh tickling and raising goosebumps under the sheen layer of sweat.

“Around your shoulders,” I finally managed. “Lay my legs on your shoulders, keep it going—can you—mouth,” I demanded, and she understood.

She dragged me inches away from the mirror to lay me closer in front of her, dragging me further up, and I was practically ninety fucking degrees backwards and I wanted to die like this because I’d die in bliss and fucking happy.

This is—all I wanted, ever. My knees hit her shoulders perfectly, straight with little issue, my greedy pussy a feast for her taking, the distance no challenge for those tentacles of hers. How far could they go? One was still pulsing, throbbing, squirming, diving in and out inside me, the other now flickering the very edge of my clit at the front.

Soon her breath was hot and warm and so close so almost there so tempting please please please against the free inches of folds, aching vulva waiting.

I felt the flick of her tongue and I gasped in anticipation, every nerve straining, waiting, so sensitive, so ready—

I nearly fucking came at the chomping of her sharp teeth against my adjacent inner thigh. “T—tease—”

She began to bounce me, downright bounce me, running circles around my clit and hood, rubbing up and down my labia to her tentacle, which she was sliding up and down, in and out, and I was bucking against it, but her hands wrapped around my middle, against my ass, yanked me closer and further away with the movement too, and she nibbled around—bit close—sucked me, leaving hickies on my inner thigh, the pain striking and downright orgasmic, and it was building, building, the pressure tight like her inside me, about to fucking burst me open—so full so delicious so good. “Tight,” she groaned, and I strained to look, and her mouth had gone away, and instead of bent down to me, her neck was thrown back, facing the ceiling with her eyes shut.

“Lick me,” I begged, a shaking starting from my vagina, shivering slowly down my thighs and my legs to my feet, and my eyes rolled back, mouth open, collapsed against the ground, elbows folding, and finally, finally, I felt her gorgeous tongue lick and tease and slurp and nibble between me, bouncing, bouncing, holding me close, so hot, so tight, so inside me—so—

I tried to say keep going but “K—ke—keep—go—guh—guhh—ah—Eve!"

The orgasm spoke instead, and her fingernails dug into me like claws, and she licked, and licked, and my vision turned white, the pressure exploding, my body spasming and writhing and squirming against her, my intermittent strangled moan-shouting probably waking every planet from here. She swelled, swelled inside me, painfully tight, and I bet that was it for her too, this was it—finally, so good, so good, I bet she’d scraped my walls all over, I bet she’d gotten exactly what she’d wanted, I bet…

Thoughts failed. I collapsed, limp, after what felt like an hour’s orgasm, and she slumped to sit. I barely slid my legs away and into a normal laying position on my back, and she thumped beside me.

Her hand flopped out by her side, an exhausted half turn of her head before I lazing grabbed it and clutched it for dear life. She shivered, our panting and the groans of tiny aftershocks louder than the dim hum of electronics.

I tilted my forehead back to gaze at the mirror, where they’d be watching me, and they’d see me like this, remember this, me fucking blissed out on the floor in front of them, every time they looked at me for a project.

“Do you want to meet up after this and—grab a coffee or watch a movie sometime?” I managed, the energy returning enough for a smirk. I flopped my head to look at her, her yarn-like thick hair, blue and gorgeous and messy and all over.

She grinned, too, teeth lightly stained with my blood, her lips wet from me. The sight was beautiful. “As long as nothing happens.” I laughed, and she slapped my hand away, sitting up and laying a hand over her heart in playful offense. “What type of girl do you take me for?”

“A girl,” I sat up too, with a groan, of exertion this time. I puffed out a sigh like an old person rising out of the cafeteria chair, “that I will not be letting go of."

“No, shit,” she laughed, rose to her feet, and held out a puffy tentacle to help me do the same. I took it, but not without sticking a finger in one of her sensitive holes. She gasped, giggled at the tease despite the fact we both needed a fucking breather, and even as they involuntarily, slowly, retracted, I knew it would not be the last I saw of them or her.

“Page me,” I whispered into her ear as we headed out the hallway. She smiled, as if to say, I know.