Crashland

I stood at the edge of the desert. Before me the white sands extended to the horizon, towering dunes and wavering haze breaking up the harsh alien landscape. I shielded my eyes, the dark goggles I was wearing doing little to ease the blinding glare. I had been stranded, one of my engines was hit by orbital debris on approach and the freighter I had been piloting to the refueling station had ditched on the surface of this planet. The landing hadn't been too hard, most of the surface was just desert and sand. I hadn't paid enough attention to my course chart to remember its name, but the AI co-pilot had reported that the atmosphere was breathable, and that if I had tried to launch an escape pod I would have been caught by the gravity well anyway.

I had recovered everything of use from the wrecked ship and headed out in the direction of a space elevator used to transport goods to and from the surface, mostly ores and minerals. Unfortunately that elevator was a hundred miles away across a strip of especially harsh desert. The gear I had salvaged didn't really equip me for this trek, I had a pair of pilot's goggles that would darken when exposed to sunlight, a crude survival poncho lined with insulation intended more for ice planets than deserts, the ship's first-aid kit, some basic ration bars and a canteen that would siphon water vapor from the air and refill over time.

I unscrewed the cap on the silver canteen and took a quick drink. As I wiped my mouth I turned behind me and took another look at the scuttled freighter a few miles back, my footprints trailing away in the sand. It extended into the air like a black skyscraper made of broken pipes, its freight had spilled across the dunes like the innards of a gutted fish. Billions of credits of goods that now would never make it to their intended destinations, if I survived this there was no way I'd be keeping my job.

I had tied my leather flight jacket over my head to protect from the sun, and as I tightened the sleeves under my chin, I braced myself for the journey.

"Come on O'Brian, you can do this!" I said aloud.

"Are you crossing?"

I started, and looked to my left. There was a creature standing right next to me, the leather jacket had obscured my peripheral vision and it had just walked right up to me.

"FUCK!" I exclaimed and fell on my ass, shuffling backwards to get away.

The thing was large, at least eight or nine feet tall, it was bipedal, basically humanoid, and was draped in some kind of brown shawl from head to toe that obscured its features.

"Oh, did I startle you?" It was speaking Galactic Standard, heavily accented with some odd clicking vocalizations, but well enough that I could understand. I stood up and brushed sand off my clothes, embarrassed. I wracked my brain trying to remember GS grammar I had learned in flight school.

"Yes, sorry about that." I replied, I was rusty but it seemed to understand me. The thing eyed me up and down, its head obscured by the ragged shawl blowing in the wind that swept in from the dunes.

"Are you crossing?"

"Yes" I replied, still wary of the large thing.

"I saw your ship crash," it clicked, "I came to find survivors."

"It wasn't too hard a landing," I bragged, looking back over my shoulder at the new landscape I had created, "I'm the only crew member, most of the ship's functions were automated."

The alien seemed melancholy, it looked out over the desert, pensive.

"You have no cooling unit, you can't cross without one, the desert heat will drive you to madness then kill you."

"Hardly matters," I replied, "If I don't get to that space elevator I'll die anyway, might as well chance it rather than starve here." The alien paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I have a cooling unit, I too wish to reach the spire, but it will take several days to cross that desert and my kind cannot survive the cold nights, you are a mammal, I can sense your warm blood, you have an insulating blanket, you could keep us both alive."

I relaxed somewhat, was this alien stranded here like me? Would circumstance make allies of us?

"I propose a trade for the common good." It said, gesturing at me with a long, three-fingered arm tipped with shiny black claws that protruded from under the shawl, its skin a deep purple in color.

"I will keep you alive during the day with my cooling unit, you will keep me alive at night with your insulator, we will cross together."

Clearly someone was watching out for old O'Brian, I didn't know anything about this creature or its species, but it seemed to need me as much as I needed it.

"If you think you can make the trip, I'll go wth you."

The alien paused again, surprised.

"Then it is settled, the bargain is made."

I gestured ahead, "Lead on!"

I labored to keep pace with the loping alien, its long legged strides let it scale dunes with relative ease, as my boots sank into the sand and I struggled up them practically on all-fours. Occasionally it would reach out a clawed hand to steady me or lift me over a crest. It was too exhausting to keep a conversation going and the alien showed far less curiosity where I was concerned than I had expected. It might have met humans before, as it knew Galactic Standard fairly well.

From a belt around its waist hung the cooling unit, an unwieldy, blocky device of alien design that projected a four meter bubble of cool air around us. While it didn't block out the burning sun, it protected from wind and sand, and cooled the air to a tolerable temperature as we struggled on. It was right of course, the exertion and heat would have driven me to delirium long ago were it not for this magical device.

It knew a fair bit about me, but I knew nothing of it. It had called me a "mammal", implying that it was something different, an insect or a reptile? I couldn't see past the shawl it wore, save for glimpses of dark purple skin, like bruising, covering its forearms and ankles.

The desert was featureless besides the dunes and the elevator in the distance extending into the azure, cloudless sky. There were no plants, no animals, no oasis, no rocks protruding from the ground, just sand as far as the eye could see.

"I need to rest." I gasped, doubling over to take a breath, sweat pouring from my face and stinging my eyes. The alien came to a halt, and turned to look at me.

"The less time we spend resting, the better." It chided, seemingly unsympathetic.

I raised a hand, gesturing it to stop.

"You're bigger than me, I have to walk twice as far as you with those beanstalk legs, I won't be long, I just need a drink and a breather."

I pulled the canteen from my pack and took a refreshing swig.

"Is that water?" The alien asked, eyeing the silver canteen. "May I have some?"

I tossed the canteen to it, it caught it and unscrewed the cap. From beneath the tattered fabric snaked a ropey tube, like a tongue or a proboscis. It slipped inside the rim of the canteen, and I assumed it drank. After a few moments it handed the canteen back to me, I wiped some viscous saliva from the top and screwed the lid back on.

"So what's your name?" I inquired. "Mine's O'Brian."

It looked me up and down, at least that's what I assumed it was doing as its face was hidden.

"You couldn't pronounce my name."

I stood with my hands on my hips, and gave it a sarcastic look.

"Well then what do I call you, beanstalk?"

"Beanstalk will do."

I laughed at it, what an antisocial companion I had landed. I didn't think it even knew what beanstalk meant.

"Alright Beanstalk, where are you from? How did you come to be here?"

It began to move away from me again, and I hurried to keep up, my feet sinking into the sand.

"Walk as you talk." It replied, although I noticed its gait was a little slower now, allowing me to keep up at an undignified power-walk. "I was born here, I am native to this planet. I came from a region further East."

"Why do you need me to keep you alive if you're native to this climate?" I asked, perplexed.

It extended a clawed hand to help me over the crest of a dune.

"My people retreat to burrows when the cold comes," it said. "In this white desert the ground is hard, and the cold is harsh, noone lives here."

"So you need my poncho." I huffed, as I attempted to descend a steep incline, my feet sliding.

"And your body heat, you are a mammal, you have warm blood, my people are reptiles, our blood is cold and we get our heat from the sun."

I nodded, it made sense. As I started to climb another dune, I asked the alien why it wanted to reach the space elevator, and it told me the story of how human miners had collapsed tunnels during mining operations, killing several of its species.

It was a simple mistake, albeit a deadly one, but the natives had no way to cross the "dead band" deserts that separated many disparate tribes from eachother, which the miners simply flew over. This alien had been tasked with finding a way across and delivering detailed maps of the tunnels so that the miners could avoid them when drilling.

As we chatted and walked I learned that Beanstalk was a female, hailing from a nearby tribe, and that her species spent the majority of their time underground in complex warrens and tunnels. In the mornings before the sun rose fully they would bask on rocks and warm themselves, when they ventured to the surface for longer periods of time they wore cooling units. Staying underground seemed like a sensible evolutionary strategy in a climate as harsh and variable as this one.

Her people had advanced technology, but were largely sedentary and had no desire to move over large distances or communicate outside the tribe in most circumstances, their warrens requiring a lot of investment to build and maintain.

There were no disputes over territory among different tribes because the dead bands clearly outlined borders which people could not cross without great difficulty.

“Do you dislike humans, because they collapsed one of your warrens?” I asked hesitantly.

“They meant you no harm I'm sure, they were just careless.”

“That's probably true.” She replied, never breaking stride, but she did not answer the question.

The sun began to get low on the horizon, and I asked if we should make camp for the night, she agreed as I wondered what that might entail. She dropped a backpack from under her shawl, I hadn't even noticed it, assuming the bulge was part of her anatomy, and began to unpack what looked like a blanket. To my surprise she activated a switch, and it inflated into a squat tent, roughly as long as she was tall.

“Survival tent,” She explained. “It will insulate us from the cold, to an extent.”

I eyed the tent, a little worried that it would be too narrow to fit both of us, but she assured me that it would be fine. “With your mammalian body heat and that insulated poncho we should survive the night.”

“Are these tents not enough to keep you alive under normal circumstances?” I asked.

“No, the nights in the dead bands are too cold.”

Reluctantly I shed my gear outside the tent, leaving my canteen to refill itself, and crawled in first. Although the alien was taller than me I had to crouch to enter the tent. The surface was padded and had the almost metallic crackle of heavy insulation, it was not uncomfortable. The walls and ceiling were similarly lined with a silver insulation material, there were no openings besides the door.

I shuffled to the top of the tent as Beanstalk crawled through the opening.

It was then I noticed she had four arms, they supported her as she crawled on her knees, extending from beneath her shawl. I stared, wide-eyed as she shuffled closer then sat cross-legged, and began to remove her clothing. This was the first I had seen of her without the cowl, and I was apprehensive, I assumed she might have more tact than to reveal herself this close to me in such an enclosed space, it would make anyone nervous, but then again perhaps a subterranean creature might find these claustrophobic spaces comforting. She used the upper set of arms to pull off her hood and the rags covering her face, to reveal her bruise-purple complexion and large, dark eyes. She looked human enough, the facial structure was all human besides the conspicuous lack of a nose, she had two eyes spaced apart like a human would have, albeit larger and shiny black with no pupils, and a mouth where a mouth should be. Off-yellow canine teeth protruded over her oddly full lips, the color of which was a deeper purple than the surrounding skin, which was shiny, probably due to sweat or a secretion of some kind. To my surprise a mane of red hair fell about her shoulders as the hood came off, she reached behind her head in a weirdly human gesture and tied it into a rough ponytail.

While this was happening her lower set of arms were removing her shawl, which appeared to untie at the front, and slough off her body onto the floor, she rolled it up and placed it to one side.

Now all she was wearing was a loincloth of some kind wrapped around her lower body and what looked suspiciously like a tank top. Although it was surely rude to stare, my eyes played over her alien body, my gaze meeting the same curves and taught muscle one might expect from an athlete, maybe a runner or a swimmer. I was startled, and slightly aroused, the odd geometry of her four-armed torso gave way to what looked like pert breasts under her covering, and her exposed midriff was lined with bunches of abdominal muscle that faded into curved hips and strong thighs, the same slick mauve skin present everywhere. Despite her claim of reptile heritage I could see no visible scales, but who knew with aliens.

If she noticed I was looking, she wasn't concerned, as she rolled up clothing and packed it away in her rucksack. When she was done she watched me, expectantly. I made a “What?” gesture, and she sighed.

“Clothes off.” She said.

“Excuse me?”

“Take off your clothes,” she repeated, “Your body heat, that was the bargain we made.”

“Why do I need to take them off for that?” I asked, incredulous.

“I need skin on skin contact in order to transfer the heat directly to my body or I will die, the insulation in this tent and your poncho will not trap enough heat, and if I die you will die shortly after.”

I started to remove the jacket that was still tied around my head, and kicked off my shoes.

“Ok jeez hold your horses, I never said I wouldn't do it.” I complained. She didn't bother asking what horses were and instead just observed me as I tried to pull my t-shirt over my head. She watched me as I disrobed, as I had watched her, a mutual curiosity of alien anatomy I assumed, since she had kept her loincloth, I kept my shorts on, already starting to feel cold.

“Wow you weren't joking,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. “This cold comes on fast, humans can live in cold climates but this is already uncomfortable for me.” The sweat left over from the day's hike was sticking to me now, cold and clammy, I wiped some of it off with a discarded shirt but if we were going to get warm we had better do it fast.

She lay down, stretching out along the length of the tent. I felt tiny next to her giant frame. She motioned to the insulated poncho I had brought with me, and drew a rolled up insulated blanket from her bag.

“Combine these, layer them, then get as close to me as you can, I'm already starting to feel sluggish.” I followed her instructions and lay the small poncho over her torso and the larger alien-sized blanket over her body, when that was done I hesitantly crawled under, only to feel her four arms reach out and grab me. For a moment I was alarmed, but then I regained my composure, and she drew me in close to her chest, pressing me against what were definitely breasts.

“Good, you're warm.” She murmured.

There was nothing sexual about this, we were doing it to survive, and yet as she drew me in against her breast, I felt a new heat begin to rise in my loins. She was as sweaty as I was, it covered her strange skin in a slippery layer, and stained her tank top, making it almost transparent in some places. Her chest was pressed against mine, and my face was pushed against the nape of her neck by a gentle hand to the back of my head. She kept her clawed hand there, and sighed a little as I breathed warm air onto her.

I had gone from barely knowing this alien to spooning with her within the space of a few minutes, and while I was alarmed, the cold was creeping up my back, and I nudged forward trying to get closer. The insulated blankets were trapping my heat well enough but the closer we got the more efficient that process would be, or at least that's what I told myself, as I reached my left arm around her ribs and placed it against her back, drawing her in. Her skin was smooth and soft, coated in that layer of moisture that made my fingers slippery. We were fully sandwiched now, my reddening face pressing against her clavicle. I dared a glance and peeked down her top, on her exaggerated frame those boobs were understated, but squashed together against a human's chest they looked massive. Beads of sweat still trickled into the cleavage.

I was worried she would sense my growing erection and so I pulled my lower body back a little, bringing my legs up to my belly, but with her two free hands that were not wrapped around me she deftly pushed them back straight, then with one hand on my butt, pressed my pelvis up against hers, squashing my penis against her firm abdominal muscles.

“Stay straight, that part is warm.” She mumbled, her breath tickling my ear. She couldn't know what it was, all she was interested in was the heat it was producing.

She smelled musky, and slightly sweet like fruit, it wasn't unpleasant but it overpowered my senses in such an enclosed space, I tried to pull my head away to catch a breath of fresher air but the hand on the back of my head did not allow it.

We stayed like that for a while, my excitement eventually receding into fatigue as the day's march took it's tole on my body. Her chest heaved rhythmically as she slept, and occasionally one of her hands would squeeze or caress me gently, she must have been dreaming of a pet perhaps, or a lover? Those thoughts rattled around my tired brain until I too was sleeping and dreaming.

The next day I awoke to heat, I scrambled to remove the stifling blankets and crawled out of the tent through the flap. Where was Beanstalk? I cursed as the sun blinded me and returned to the tent briefly to retrieve my flight goggles. That cursed fiery ball was just now peeking over the horizon, it was not hot enough to burn me yet but it was still a blinding glare. I stood and looked around. There was Beanstalk, spread across the sand on some kind of clear plastic tarp some distance away, as naked as the day she was born. She lay on her back, one hand shielding her dark eyes from the sun as she basked in the golden rays, her skin taking on a reflective sheen that served only to accentuate the bumps and curves of her uncomfortably feminine body.

What I had only glimpsed in the tent I now saw in full sunlight, her sinewy arms and chest upon which perched two (by human standards) large breasts that hung attractively, the deep purple skin that ran over her tight belly and her abs that would make any Olympic swimmer jealous. Her legs were svelte because of their length, but were no less toned. Their distinctly human shape gave way to a jointed heel and splayed claws that looked like they would stop her sinking in the sand. As I drank her in I imagined that life in the warrens must be very physically demanding, that or her species naturally had more muscle than humans, then she rolled over onto her front to bathe her back in warmth from the sun. I was graced with a view of her taut butt, large globes no doubt full of muscle, and a deep dimple than ran all the way down her spine. I noticed that the skin was not uniform, but had darker freckles scattered across her shoulders and haunches. The deep red hair that had so surprised me was only present on her head.

“You're staring, O'Brian.” She chimed.

My face reddened as I realized how long I had been watching her.

“Well, you're interesting!” I stammered, a poor comeback. “I've not seen anything like you before in my travels.”

She rolled over onto her side to face in my direction, two of her four hands on the curve of her hip, those large breasts pressing together heavily.

“I thought we looked pretty similar!” She called back. “Why do you find my anatomy so interesting?” I chose not to answer, and instead got to work packing away my gear. I took a long draw from the canteen, and packed it away on my belt. I tied the leather flight jacket over my head again and hoisted my rucksack. Beanstalk was back on her front, one leg bent in the air is if she were relaxing on a beach somewhere.

“Don't hurry, I need to bathe for a while longer.”

I huffed and dropped my pack, then sat on it. I took out a ration bar and chewed slowly, watching her sunbathe a while longer, she didn't seem to care that I was examining her, or if she did she didn't show it. We were different species anyway, why should there be any tension between us? Would I care if a dog or a cat was watching me sunbathe? No.

After maybe half an hour the sun became unbearably hot, and I pleaded with Beanstalk to reactivate her cooling unit, which ironically seemed to be solar powered. After some stalling we pressed on, continuing our long and arduous march to the hazy space elevator in the distance.

We had been walking for another day with little conversation. I felt that all we needed to say had been said the day before, and Beanstalk had never been one for flippant chatting. Despite the cooling balm of her unit, this trek was getting to me, my feet were blistered and my boots were full of sweat, my pack had begun to dig into my shoulders and I found that the canteen never had as much water as I wanted it to. A little panic rose in my belly as I realized that we couldn't turn back at this point, we either made it to the elevator or we died in the desert, she really wasn't exaggerating the danger of this journey. It was only now hitting me that I might die here. I had to take my mind of it, stat.

“So if you sunbathe for energy in the morning, why do you wear that shawl?” She continued her relentless march as usual, not so much as turning her head.

“My skin will burn just as yours does if exposed to too much sunlight for to long, once my blood is warmed in the morning before the sun is high, it lasts me for a day. I would usually retreat back into the warrens when the sun is at it's apex, but I can't do that here.” She hesitated for a moment as she climbed the bank of a large dune. “You're slowing O'Brian, it's better we rest than you collapse from exhaustion.”

“But it will waste time, my supplies aren't infinite.” I protested, doubling over to take a breath, my hands on my knees. “I only have enough ration bars for a few more days and then I'm done for, my species can't go for longer than that in these conditions without food.”

She walked back to me and put a hand from her lower pair on my shoulder.

“I need you, don't overexert yourself, we will rest, it's getting late anyway.” She was right, the sun wasn't going down just yet but it was well on the way and the stifling heat was easing. I nodded agreement, but I felt wretched, I didn't want to drag Beanstalk down and cause us both to die because I hadn't kept up with my company-mandated zero-G exercises. I should be sitting in a faux-leather acceleration couch playing Angry Avians not trekking across a wasteland with an alien. As I sat on my pack and wiped stinging sweat from my eyes, Beanstalk set up her tent, I assumed the insulation must keep heat out as well as in. When she was done, she beckoned, and we crawled inside. She hung the cooling unit from a beam along the top of the tent, and it's refreshing aura expanded through the enclosed space. We lay down for a while, I poured a little of the now cool water from the self-refilling canteen onto my shirt and used it to wipe my face clean of all the sweat and grime, it felt wonderful.

Beanstalk watched me curiously as I ran the wet shirt over my neck and under my arms.

“Best I can do for a shower out here.” I quipped, as I threw the damp shirt aside and relaxed.

As I lay back, my hands behind my head, I felt Beanstalk's eyes scrutinizing me, because of her lack of pupils I could never tell exactly where she was looking, but animal instinct told me when I was being observed. She reached out tentatively and ran her clawed fingers through my downy chest hair. It tickled and I laughed, pushing her hand away.

“I take it your people don't have any concept of personal space?” I inquired sarcastically.

“How do you mean? Did I offend?” She asked, puzzled. I felt regret and took her three-fingered hand in mine.

“No it's fine, humans don't casually touch eachother under normal circumstances, at least not in my culture, it's considered rude or a sexual advance, but that hardly matters here.”

She withdrew her hand, her expression hard to read. “In the warrens we live in close quarters, physical contact is unavoidable, there are no cultural taboos against it, and it did not occur to me that there would be in yours.” She seemed sorry, and I was worried I had overreacted to her curiosity with my snide remark and made things awkward. Before I could muster an apology she blurted out;

“It was not a sexual advance!” I looked at her, my mouth agape, then began to laugh again.

“O'Brian I do not desire intercourse! Why are you laughing?” I was doubled over now, my eyes watering.

“I know I know, it's fine.” I heaved, holding my belly. “There's really nothing to worry about, it was just funny is all, now don't make me explain human humor to you or we'll never reach the elevator.”

We lay in our little tent for a while, there was nothing to do. I hadn't thought of rescuing a book or a tablet from the crash when survival had been my only concern. Now I was a little bored, and Beanstalk was not very conversational. Most of my attempts to learn about her and her life were met with monosyllabic replies. She seemed bored too, agitated. Her legs were crossed as she lay down and one clawed foot bobbed in the air rhythmically. The tent was starting to get too cold now, and Beanstalk reached up to turn off her unit.

“The sun is going down,” she said. “It's a little early, but we should get ready to sleep.”

My heart jumped in my chest as I remembered the close quarters encounter from the previous night, and how good she had looked sunbathing on that plastic tarp, her impressive figure on display. I nodded affirmatively and began removing my clothing, down to the underwear again. Beanstalk did the same, pulling off her tattered shawl to reveal her fiery red hair and firm abs again. My eyes lingered on them, I was dazed for a moment, admiring her midriff and the way her breasts hung in her top, beads of sweat like morning dew on leaves decorated her trim belly. She knew I was looking, but by unspoken agreement looking didn't seem to matter, and it seemed that if I had reacted better to her unsolicited explorations, touching wouldn't either. Did I want to touch her? Her physiology was so enticingly human, as if some unimaginative scifi author had just glued alien parts to the body of a beautiful, athletic woman. Were we even physiologically compatible? What if her kind mated like trout and the male just released his seed onto a clutch of eggs?

That train of thought was broken as Beanstalk beckoned to me, and I awkwardly scooted into her embrace. Like the night before we piled on insulating blankets and squeezed together, as if two caterpillars were sharing one cocoon. Somehow her multi-limbed embrace was relaxing, like being held by two people at the same time. Again my head was pushed up against the nape of her slender neck with light pressure from one of her hands. I squirmed as she stroked my hair gently, running her fingers through it, massaging my scalp with her dull claws. She must have felt my wriggling because she pulled me tighter, pressing me up against her firm body.

“O'Brain...” she breathed into my ear, her voice soft and low. The sensation of her warm breath tickled my ear and sent a shiver down my spine. “What if I wanted intercourse? How would you do it?”

I began to get hard despite myself, the bulge and heat impossible to hide in such a compromised position. Her words blanked my mind, and I stammered a reply.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You like me, don't you?” She whispered into my ear, her mouth barely an inch away from it. “You were watching me, while I was sunbathing, your...” She reached down with one of her lower arms and gently squeezed the bulge in my shorts, making me buck, but she had already closed her grip around me and held me in a vice so I couldn't pull away. “This is full of blood, I can feel your heat, and ours work the same way...”

I was caught, my face was now burning, my heart was beating like a drum pumping warm blood to my loins and she could feel everything. She squeezed my bulge again and I shuddered involuntarily, feeling my legs go weak. She pressed my face into her neck and sighed, seeming to enjoy the sensation of warmth from my cheeks. “You're so much warmer this way. You're not just keeping me alive, it's soothing, relieving.” I felt a hand on my face, as she turned it up to look down at me, her dark eyes unreadable. “Why are you quiet? Do you want me?”

“I do...” I replied awkwardly, I was not used to this. While I wasn't in peak physical condition after my recent four month cargo run, I had never had problems with women before, I was of above average height, well built, and all it usually took was spending a few credits on drinks to get a girl back to the crash couch on my hauler. I was not accustomed to being led like this, and her penetrating gaze was making me feel oddly compliant. She was so much larger than me, and obviously stronger, I felt as if I didn't have a choice but to go with it.

I felt a meaty thigh rise to my waist, and her lithe leg hooked around my backside, squeezing me up against her stomach. My now raging erection pressed against her bunched abdominal muscles, slick with the day's sudor. I wanted desperately to grind against them but she held me in her grip, controlling my movement and not letting me. Her soft thigh was pressing against my hip, she had one hand in my hair, continuing her slow massage, and now her other hands wandered down my back and over my shoulders, drawing red streaks in my skin with her not-quite-sharp claws.

The sensation was unbearable, but in her firm grip I could neither pull away to relieve it, nor press closer. She kept me like this for some minutes, running those claws lightly all over my body, seeming to enjoy my impotent floundering and gasping. The pressure of those abs on my penis was driving me insane, a thin barrier of fabric separating me from her smooth skin. Her fruity smell swamped my senses and I mouthed her sinuous neck, the salty, somewhat metallic taste of her tickling my tongue. She seemed to enjoy this and released me somewhat, and my hands ran down her back and to her butt, which was almost out of reach due to our size difference. My fingers gliding on her slick skin, I pushed into her loincloth and grabbed a handful of her ass. It was taut and bouncy, a layer of soft fat, and below it solid muscle.

As I squeezed and mashed, she began to writhe against me.

“Enough of that.” She moaned, and flipped over on top of me, straddling me. With her lower set of arms she pinned mine to the ground. Now I truly appreciated her weight and size as she perched over me, those supple thighs the length of my arms squashing me like a hotdog in a purple bun. As she raised her torso into the air the blankets fell away. With her other pair of arms she removed her top, her large rounded globes dropping heavily as she removed their support.

“Ours work the same way...” I whispered, my eyes lingering on them. She smiled and dropped them down on my face, with a weight that almost hurt. Their soft, memory-foam warmth covered my eyes, and she squeezed them together, suffocating me. I began to wriggle and protest as a touch of panic began to rise in my mind, and she released me, giggling.

I was worried momentarily, she seemed to have a sadistic streak, perhaps it was my smaller size that made her think she could fuck with me like that? Before I could ponder the thought any further she hooked a hand behind my head and brought me half way up to her face, meeting me with a forceful kiss. Her flushed purple lips met mine and the long, sinuous tongue I had seen her use to drink from my canteen slipped into my mouth. It was surprisingly thick, meaty and slimy in texture, it tasted like copper as she coiled it around inside my head, exploring me and wrapping it around my tongue.

This placated me, my brain began to fizz like a soft drink and I felt myself relaxing and growing compliant as her winding appendage grazed my esophagus. After a few moments she pulled away, her lips separating from mine with a wet smack and her tongue, now slick with our combined saliva, coiled back into her head like a strand of thick spaghetti. She gently lowered my head back down to the ground and loomed over me, seeming to consider something, her mesmerizing tongue occasionally flicking out to wet her full lips.

She was still on top of me, her pubic bone pressing down on my erection, with two of her four arms leaning on my chest, pressing me down as if I were a prey animal that might bolt before she could have her fun. As I watched her, she began to shift, and I felt her bulk move off my groin and down my body, those soft hands sliding over my skin as she went. She crawled down the length of my body like something from a horror movie, her moving limbs bringing to mind images of giant spiders in the low light. I guessed where she was headed and immediately tensed up. On her knees and supporting herself with her two upper arms, the lower ones deftly slid off my underwear and my erection bounced up to meet her. If it's size disappointed her, it didn't show in her expression, as a large, disturbingly toothy grin spread across her face, and her heavy breathing tickled the now exposed head of my penis. She glanced up at me, as if asking permission, and I nodded almost imperceptibly. She gripped my shaft in her hands.

“It's on fire!” She exclaimed, shocked at the heat my member was producing. “This is my favorite part so far!” I squirmed as she squeezed, testing the rigidity of the unfamiliar organ. “Does this hurt?”

“No, that's good...” I gasped. “Go up and down.” At this she began to pump slowly with both hands, watching me to measure my reaction. Her grip was firm, but slow, and each motion of her hands sent a lightning bolt of pleasure up my spine. I raised my arms to cover my face as I writhed back and forth, trying to block out as much sensory information as possible to prevent an overload. I felt something warm and wet wrap around me, and glanced under an arm to see her meaty tongue coiling out of her mouth and around my penis like a boa constrictor. It tied around my glans like a noose, it's slimy coils flowing over it and massaging the sensitive head. She began to twist her hands in different directions, now slippery with saliva, and the sensations became too much for me. I attempted to hump the air hopelessly, but she used one of her larger upper arms to press my hips to the floor, trapping me in this unbearable bliss. I let out an embarrassing sound not worthy of an adult male, and seeing my reaction, she strangled my dick her with ropy tongue, forcing out every last drop of my orgasm. Her squeezing became rhythmic and her hands milked me, her every motion compelling another shockwave to flow through my spasming body. What could only have been 30 seconds of shuddering joy felt like 30 minutes, after which I collapsed into a dazed heap, my muscles aching, and Beanstalk crawled slowly up my body to drape herself over me again. I rewarded her with a grateful kiss, I tasted myself on her tongue but I didn't care. The kiss was long and impossibly deep, her lower hands cupping my face, enjoying the heat radiating from my cheeks.

I was embarrassed, my face could have boiled water. No girl had ever made me feel like that before, I considered myself a tough customer, and until now a dominant lover, but as she cradled my face in her soft hands that all melted away, and my mind went blank. All I could think of was the afterglow assaulting my senses and her large lips pressing awkwardly against mine, that tongue of hers worming it's way around, sending shivers down my spine.

I broke off the kiss and mouthed her neck again, which she seemed to enjoy, she pressed my head against her nape with a large hand and crooned as I traced a tendon with my tongue. After a few moments she abruptly pushed me down flat, and eyed me with a predatory smile.

“My turn.”

She stood crouched over me in the enclosed space, and used her lower arms to untie her loincloth, but as it fell away whatever it was hiding was not visible at my prone angle in the low light. I felt a burst of apprehension tickle my mind, what did she have down there? Was I about to have a very bad time? She crawled over me again on all fours like a monstrous insect, her lesser arms caressing my face as she came to sit on my chest, her firm, gigantic thighs sandwiching my head.

“Use your tongue.” She demanded, and I glanced down to see her alien labia, like a fleshy flower with four petals a bruised purple in color, unfurl and leak a viscous, clear fluid in anticipation. Before I could protest she slid down my chest, and perched on my face, her massive weight pressing my mouth against her. Her huge, soft butt was crushing my torso. Wet fluid leaked around my mouth, and that strong fruity odor permeated my senses. Her labia, which seemed almost prehensile, met my lips like a sordid kiss, and I felt her velvety thighs glance my cheeks. Compliant, I explored with my tongue, tracing the folds. She tasted metallic, slightly salty, but not unpleasant. As I forced my tongue deeper inside her, I felt her thighs squeeze my head, vice-like, as she tensed and flexed from the stimulation.

I peeked over her mound to see those taught abdominal muscles bunching and spasming, beads of sweat rolling down towards me. I brought my arms up to grab some more handfuls of butt now it was within easier reach, I ran my hands over the glass-smooth skin of her legs and dared to follow the depressions of her abs with questing fingers.

She writhed and ground her crotch against my tongue, trying to push me deeper, her size and weight were alarming, I was worried that in her fugue she would suffocate me or crush my head between her thighs like an unfortunate melon.

“Your mouth is so hot.” She murmured, her voice cracking. Now two of her hands were on her breasts, mashing and twisting them, deforming the heavy orbs, and the others gripped my hair somewhat painfully, pulling me closer. It was hard to see her face in the darkness but she seemed to be peering down at me. I spluttered a little, trying to come up for air, but her grip on me was strong, if she didn't want me to surface, I wouldn't be breathing any time soon. I decided to get some revenge, and ran my fingernails down her inner thighs, not quite enough to hurt, but enough to leave welts. At this she groaned, a deep rumbling that took me by surprise, calling back to ancient ancestral memories of angry bears lurking just outside the range of camp fires. With a fistful of my hair she jerked my head back, a rope of juice linking my surprised mouth to her flower.

“Don't start a fight you can't win, O'Brian...” She crooned ominously, leaning down to glare into my eyes, but the curl at the edges of her mouth told me this might be a fight I would enjoy losing.

She pushed me back again, and continued her grinding motion, and I probed rhythmically. Her vagina was lined with soft, fleshy spurs like the inside of a fig, and as my tongue probed their forest my head spun, imagining what they might feel like if we were to make love. I felt myself growing again in anticipation, praying there would be more to this encounter.

“Don't stop!” She exclaimed, her grip on my hair becoming painful and her thighs pressing uncomfortably against my head. She doubled over, her red hair falling against my face, her stomach muscles clenching. My tongue ached with exertion and her sweat stung my eyes as it dripped from her tensed body. Finally she came, in a great crescendo of shuddering and gasping. Her contractions almost pulled my tongue out of my head, and her secretions became an unmanageable gush, but she trapped my head there, all four hands wrapped around my skull, her legs clamped down on me like an iron press. I felt my vision start to fade and thought I might pass out, but with a tremor translating through her body into mine, she pulled back, to sit heavily on my chest, leaning backwards propped up by her upper arms, her weighty breasts swaying with the motion. With the lower pair she wiped goo from my face and ruffled my hair affectionately.

“Who would have thought someone so small would make me feel so warm.” She purred, and reached for my canteen, almost motherly now after her outburst, feeding me a few gulps of cool water with a hand on my cheek. Her genitals were still splayed, leaking thick juices that ran down my chest.

I throbbed again, admiring her wide hips and her impeccable musculature, I leaned up and ran my tongue along her abs, and she shuddered again in reply, a hand affectionately stroking my hair again. She got off me, and lay beside me, imprisoning me in her arms like the bars of a cage and pulling me against her damp body. She felt a lot warmer now, not quite human body temperature, but her usually cool touch was feverish by her standards.

“So warm...” She murmured, hugging me like an oversized teddy bear. My erection pressed against her sleek belly again, her hard muscles teasing it, but to my frustration she seemed done.

I wanted more, I wanted to get inside her, to feel those torturous fleshy barbs wrapped around my aching member, at this moment I wanted it more than life itself, but she seemed to have fallen asleep. Her breasts heaved monotonously and her breathing was steady, her face buried in my hair, she really seemed to like it's texture. I ran my fingers through hers experimentally, it was thicker and tougher than mine, perhaps it served some evolutionary purpose beyond decoration, but mine must feel soft and fine in comparison. The day's exertions overcame me suddenly, and I joined her in the deep sleep of recovering lovers.

The next day the sun broke through the fabric of the tent, irritating my eyes. It was a little later than we usually woke but Beanstalk hadn't roused me. Still naked and sticky, I made some futile attempts to clean myself of her fluids, and then crawled out of the tent onto sand made tolerable by her cooling unit. I put on my goggles and searched for her, to find her some distance away sunbathing again. I wanted to walk over to her, touch her skin, but I was embarrassed. We had been so taken by passion the night before that some part of me worried she might regret it. Did I regret it? No, it had been amazing, nobody had ever made me feel like that before. My face began to burn again as memories of the previous night's encounter flashed through my brain and sent shivers down my spine, looming breasts in the gloom, hungry eyes burning into me like laser cannons, questing fingers, salt and copper...

I snapped back into reality as Beanstalk shifted on the sand. She was lying on her front, her boobs obscured from view. I was surprised she didn't need to dig two holes for them. As usual the glaring sun reflected off her svelte figure, making her appear to shine like a waxed car, accentuating her already impressive curves. I wondered if I should go back into the tent and wait for her to be done, but before I could decide, she turned her head my way, and beckoned. I dropped my gaze and marched over to her, obedient, my face beet red despite myself.

“You'll overheat that way, O'Brian.”

I started, she was teasing me.

“You made a mess last night, the sand is sticking to me.” She crooned, accusatory, but there was a playful tone, she didn't seem to be upset or regretful.

“You started it.” I chimed, a little more petulant than I had intended to sound. She rolled onto her side to face me, leaning on an elbow in exaggerated sarcasm.

“Is that so? Well I have a job for you, I can't put my robe back on if I'm covered in sticky sand, and I didn't bring bathing supplies because, well I didn't expect...” I grew red again, and tried to avoid looking directly at her ample chest which sagged attractively in the absence of any support. “So get your canteen, and bathe me with one of your rags, it will have recharged before we're ready to set out again.” I balked at this, wash her? Here, now?

“What's the matter O'Brian, are you bored of me already?” I shook my head aggressively, and returned to the tent to retrieve the canteen and a fragment of torn shirt without a word.

When I returned, she was lying on her front again, like any Earth girl sunbathing on a beach, all she was missing were sunglasses and a beach towel, and the illusion would have been complete, if it wasn't for those extra arms and her mauve skin of course. I could see the grains of sand sticking to her body where our sweat, or our combined juices from the night before, had stuck to her. All over her body was the evidence of what we had done, had she overpowered me with her superior physiology, or had I succumbed to my own desires? Would it have gone so far if I didn't want it to? Yet, despite my shame, thoughts of the previous night's frantic, spontaneous exchange made my groin throb, and thinking about those fleshy barbs inside her made my mouth water. Yes I wanted more, tonight maybe, if I played my cards right. Who would care if that made me a xenophile? There was nobody on this godforsaken rock besides hick miners.

“Don't just stand there staring, clean me.” I obliged, dampening the rag and pressing it against her broad back. Finally I could get a good look at her, explore her. She shifted as I ran the rag down her back, tracing the dimple that ran down the length of her spine. Even her back was heavily toned, with sizable slabs of firm muscle running across her shoulder blades and up her neck, and following her spine down to two very human-like dimples above her meaty butt. I let my hand wander over her haunches, testing their springy firmness, and she shifted, rolling her hips a little. I poured some of the cool water onto her, and it ran down the dimple like a stream, pooling in the small of her back.

“Clean me, don't play games with me.” I moved back up her body and ran the rag over her shoulders and neck, pushing her heavy red hair aside with my hand. She seemed to enjoy it, and shifted restlessly under my touch, the tarp she lay on crackling under her. I dared to abandon the rag, and massaged her shoulders with both hands, pressing my palms into her firm tissue. I moved down her back, without protest this time, and glided over the glass-smooth skin of her butt, unable to resist a squeeze. I ran my hands down the back of her thighs, and to her elongated calves, washing away any sand or sticky residue as I went. She was enjoying herself, I guessed her harsh life did not leave much time for massage. I shied from her clawed feet, too alien for my sensibilities, besides they appeared tough and calloused, probably used to sand and dirt. I tapped her thigh gently and she rolled over, her forearms covering her dark eyes to shield them from the sun's offensive glare. As she turned those mesmerizing breasts fell heavily into a new position, bouncing subtly as breasts made more of tissue than of fat do. My erection escaped it's bonds, and she must have glanced down at me, as a wry smile split her face. This was as much a game for her as it was for me, and she was thoroughly enjoying both the sensation of my small hands kneading her muscle and stroking her skin, and of my visibly futile attempts to restrain myself.

“What are you waiting for?” She asked provocatively. “Keep going.” She lay back and closed her eyes again as my hands traced the lines of her pelvic bones, sliding over her flat stomach and straying dangerously close to her invitingly smooth mound, it's delicate petals hidden between clenched thighs. She murmured as my fingers brushed her belly button, and I gently kneaded her knotted abs, their almost rigid muscles flexing under my palms. They were hypnotic in motion, the water from the canteen wetting their surface, they rolled and pulsated as she twisted her abdomen in response to my rubbing. I wanted to bury my face in them but I pressed on, tickling her ribs on my way up her body. She jerked, surprised, but purred contentedly as I moved towards her breasts. Finally they were in my hands again, I felt like a lost dog reunited with it's beloved owner. I squeezed and kneaded, deforming them in my hands, they were so firm and yet velvet soft, their weight carried easily on her large frame. If they were a little larger I could have used them as beanbag chairs. She writhed, trying to suppress gasps, as my hands sank into her bosom, hiding her face with her arms. After a few moments of this she pulled my hands away with her lower pair without exposing her now surely flushed face. She ground her thighs together restlessly. I wet my hands from the canteen, then slipped them between her legs, massaging her supple inner thighs. At this she squirmed, closing her legs over my hands, but I was already inside, my roving fingers found her petals and I gently slipped a finger between them, her silky skin giving way to fleshy bumps and sticky fluid. She grunted, a low rumbling sound, and reached down a hand to pull me away.

“Are you always in heat?” She grumbled, feigning annoyance, yet her prehensile labia closed around my fingers, slick with juice, perhaps involuntarily trying to pull me deeper.

“Basically, my species mates all year-round.”

“Just clean me,” she complained, “We can do it again later.” I reddened at that, and I withdrew my hand, wiping away the juices with the rag, as she turned her head to look back at me.

“You want to do it again? Last night wasn't just a...” I trailed off.

“A mistake?” She asked, some genuine annoyance now creeping into her tone. “I did those things because I wanted to, because it made me feel good. It was hardly an accident.”

“I-I really like you!” I stammered, “I want to do more, what we did last night in the tent, nobody has ever made me feel that way, I didn't know what to do, I felt like I was melting from the inside out, and I wasn't sure if you felt the same way.”

She reached a long arm back and held my cheek. “You're warm, and you're a funny little alien, we'll do more when we camp.” She glanced over me, watching my heaving chest and protruding erection, then cracked another sardonic smile. “Save your heat for tonight O'Brian, I'll make good use of it.” She rolled back onto her front dismissively, and waved me away, a comically human gesture.

“I'm clean now, go recharge your canteen and let me sunbathe in peace a while longer.”

I nodded agreement, picked up my canteen and began to walk back to the tent, but I didn't fail to notice a lower arm snake under her body, perhaps to finish what I had started.

We marched, the desert heat barely kept at bay by the cooling unit, my flight jacket again wrapped around my head, what I wouldn't give for a damned sunhat! As usual Beanstalk led from the front, hopping nimbly over white dunes while I struggled and stumbled through the ankle-deep sand.

We had made good time, the elevator ever closer on the hazy horizon, and as the sun began to dip in the sky I felt a jolt of anticipation flow through my aching body. Visions of those fleshy petals drawing me in, those unbearable barbs wrapping around me, Beanstalk's face close to mine, her breath on my neck. My knees felt weak, I stumbled.

“Keep it up O'Brian, a few more miles and we can rest.” She called back to me.

I perked up and demanded every last ounce of strength from my tired body, powering my legs in pursuit of my purple prize. She really was keeping me going out here, if I was able to fixate on memories of her tormenting kisses and lithe body pressing down on me, I could temporarily forget about the sweat burning my eyes and the blisters on my feet, I could believe that we really would make it to that tower and this ordeal would be over. But was it really an ordeal? Was traveling with this beautiful, powerful creature with whom I had a growing infatuation really so terrible? If I could go back in time and change the course of my ship, would I protect my livelihood or would I leave it to crash all over again, just for one more taste of Beanstalk's nectar?

Was I falling in love with her?

Surely not, but had I ever been in love before? Did any of my previous conquests elicit the same lightheadedness or the same feeling of longing when our bodies weren't entwined? I searched my memories of seedy station bars and agricultural colony farmgirls, and couldn't think of a single one. It was always a game to me, not a single case of real affection, they were just a means to an end, people I knew I'd never see again, faces half forgotten, names never learned. The life of a hauler was nomadic, I was never in one place for more than a week. Many had been in on the game, using me for the same reasons, a sordid mutual agreement, and then again many had not, tears and hearts unfairly broken. But that was life. I felt differently about Beanstalk, when we had made love it had felt like someone was pouring warm honey over my insides, even when I was done, I didn't want it to end.

Eventually the sun drifted below the horizon, and Beanstalk set up her tent, I took a seat on my pack and watched her work with butterflies in my belly, remembering her promise that morning. It was all I had been thinking about for the whole day, I was nervous and expectant, my palms were sweating, and it wasn't because of the desert heat. She finished inflating the tent, and without so much as a look in my direction, began to remove her clothing and crawled inside. I waited for a moment, blood flowing to my loins in anticipation, then got off my pack and walked awkwardly across the sand to the entrance. I peeked through the flap, and Beanstalk was lying in the gloom, spread-eagled, her impressive body partially covered by one of the insulating blankets. I crept in, and sat beside her, uncharacteristically meek faced with the reality of the situation, last night had been unplanned, sudden and spontaneous, tonight we knew where this was going. I mustered the courage to start taking off my shirt, but a large purple hand reached down and grasped one of my wrists, then another. Beanstalk loomed over me in the darkness, pinning my arms to the ground with her upper set, straddling my lower body with her bulky thighs, and began to remove my shirt with the lower. She slid her soft hands under my shirt and caressed gently, lightly running her dull claws across my chest and belly. I gasped and writhed, but she had me pinned, her smooth, naked skin rubbing tantalizingly against my clothing. The pressure on my aching groin was unbearable, and I could feel her floral labia attempting to engulf the bulge, the warm juices leaking through my pants as they probed. I tried to speak but she leaned down and subjected me to a probing kiss, her snake-like tongue invading my mouth with it's slippery undulations. Her lips were cool and soft, and my mind turned to fizzing static as she drew back with a pop, a grin spreading across her face. Her hands wandered downward, her claws struggling with my belt. After a moment she succeeded in pulling off both my trousers and my underwear, then lowered herself onto me, squashing my member up against my belly as her labia wrapped around my shaft like a carnivorous plant. She grinded for a few moments, rubbing me against her opening, then maneuvered me inside her. The sensation was overpowering, I tried to buck, but she was too heavy, and all I did was force myself further in, she gasped and I felt her clench around me as my organ slipped smoothly past her opening. Those fleshy petals, each like a roving tongue, glued wetly to my groin and tickled my testicles with their bumpy inner lining. My dick had been forced all the way inside by my struggling. Thick, gooey juices leaked around it and the forest of soft, spongy spines that lined her vagina tormented me, brushing against the head of my penis with every breath and movement.

I was seeing stars, almost delirious, the stimulation too much for my brain to process. Beanstalk too seemed to be in a trance, her face flushed a deep mauve, her eyelids drooped and she began to circle her hips as if trying to scratch some irritating itch deep inside her body. Her breathing grew heavy and rhythmic, her breasts bobbed and her abs pulsated with her twisting movements. My arms were still trapped under her and her mane of red hair fell about my face, tickling my nose. After every few thrusts she would lean down again, delivering a deep, passionate kiss, keeping me breathless and dazed. Her lower arms alternated between stroking my hair and playing with her boobs, her thighs enclosed me in a velvet prison. The contractions from muscles deep within her squeezed and teased me, and those devilish barbs scraped me.

She picked up the pace, almost bouncing on me, her weight oppressive but not painful, she would pull up, then slam down again, her comparatively large organ enclosed me tightly, it might have torn my skin were it not so slick with viscous, slippery liquid. Firm muscles felt through soft walls pulsated and squeezed, matching her rhythm, and the papillae that lined them brushed and tickled.

“It's too much,” I wheezed. “Slow down or I'll...” She slowed her thrusting somewhat and leaned her face in close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from her cheeks, her breath tickled my ear as she whispered.

“Not yet, I won't let you.”

She drew back and opened her mouth, then her tongue snaked down her body, pausing along the way to coil around a nipple. It extended to an absurd length I would not have thought possible, and wrapped tightly around the base of my penis like a tourniquet. I yelped and tried to pull away but I was still trapped, I doubted three men could overpower her, never mind me in this compromised position. I writhed and struggled but her hands tightened around my wrists like iron cuffs and she squeezed her thighs to keep me lodged inside her. I struggled and protested, but then she started to thrust again, my voice began to crack and my protests turned to moans. She leaned in close, her mouth closed in a wry smile around her tongue and she lovingly caressed my face with her free hands. The painful ache in my loins began to give way to a deeper, warmer sensation and my eyes rolled back into my head as she watched me, her dark gaze full of predatory lust.

Her genitals, seemingly designed by Satan himself to torment men, delivered sensations so intense that I couldn't tolerate them, but she wouldn't let me loose, and she wouldn't let me come, I had lost what little control I had over her and it seemed that in this state of mind, her eyelids drooping and her body becoming warmer than I had ever felt it, feverish even, she was beyond reason.

And I loved it. She had awoken something in me, forced it out of me, something the tough-talking, bar-brawling ladies man I had been could never admit to, never acknowledge. I strained against my firm, fleshy bonds but to no avail, as Beanstalk pounded, embarrassingly loud, wet noises emanating from where our bodies joined. Pleasure rolled over my body in crashing waves, each pulse arching my back involuntarily and pushing me deeper into her, her slimy papillae worsening my exquisite suffering with every movement, grating the head of my penis.

“Stop! I cant!” I pleaded, my vision becoming blurry.

“A lil' mo'!” She slurred, her outstretched tongue interfering with her speech.

“Please Bean, let me-!” She abruptly released my arms and her tongue shot back into her mouth, she pulled me upright, all four arms desperately wrapping around me squashing me against her body and burying my face in her breasts. Her thighs clamped down and she delivered one final, crushing thrust. She spasmed, her strong grip compressing all the wind out of me, her insides writhed and squirmed as she came, roughly wringing my cock. I came too, my cry muffled by her cleavage. All I could smell, taste and feel, all I could hear, was Beanstalk, her slick, salty sweat, her fruity scent, her pumping heart, her convulsions and gasps of ecstasy, her taut muscles enclosing me.

We stayed upright like this for what felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. We shivered together, grasping eachother as if one of us might float away on this high, every contraction in her burning loins sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through me. She looked down at me, my ruby-red face nestled in her prominent cleavage, and I looked up at her, unable to prevent my eyelids from fluttering with the intensity of the afterglow. Her hands found my hair again and a sluggish tongue brought a long kiss, heavy and slow. My mind fizzed and popped, my aching body protested, and she lowered me onto the soft floor of the tent cradling me in her four arms like one might a tired child. She reached for a rag and made a futile attempt to wipe away some of our combined gunk that had leaked out of her around my groin, then lay with me, spooning as we had done the first night we spent together, her soft hands gently roaming across my body and through my messy hair. As I felt fatigue begin to take me, I finally understood what they meant when, an eternity ago, the French had nicknamed this feeling “the little death.”

And so we continued for a week, marching during the blistering days, and warming eachother with unbridled lovemaking by night. Beanstalk seemed happier, more talkative, there was a pleasant spring to her loping gait, and I felt my anxieties about ending up as a pile of sun-bleached bones in this desert vanish. We were perfectly matched, I felt as if I could face the fires of hell, if only I had her at my side. Just as my rations were beginning to run dangerously low we reached the space elevator, it's glistening tower rising out of view. Crews loading and unloading cargo at the base of the structure started and pointed to us as we approached in the distance, this odd mismatched pair of figures.

The miners seemed familiar with Beanstalk's race, and a group of them discussed her map and requests heatedly, bringing in what could only have been the site manager from a prefab building adjacent to the loading area. I wandered a short distance away and sat on a dune as they debated, looking back out across the desert we had covered in our time together. It had seemed an impossible feat, and now that it was over it seemed all too brief, I looked behind me at the elevator as a massive platter of packaged ores rode up the central shaft, eventually disappearing from view in the blue haze above.

“You look pensive.” Said Beanstalk, as she walked up next to me.

“Just weighing my options.” She was silent for a minute, her face difficult to read.

“The miners have agreed to stop blasting where our tunnels are, and they've entered the map I gave them into their electronic system so it can be distributed to other sites around the planet.”

“That's good then, mission accomplished!” I replied, trying to force a jovial tone into my voice.

“What will you do now, O'Brian?” She asked, concern creeping into her voice.

“I was thinking,” I replied, “How will you get back across the desert without me?” She blushed a little, my comment bringing up memories of the last few nights.

“I will see if I can barter my cooling unit for a trip back on a mining skiff.” I nodded, it made sense, I gazed out across the expanse again, the cogs in my head turning.

“I've been thinking, I did crash a multi-million ton interstellar cargo hauler with billions of credits worth of goods on board, totally unrecoverable, you know?” Beanstalk watched me intently, her dark eyes peeking out from under her hooded shawl. “When I get back home, I'd be lucky if all they did was fire me, they'll revoke my license, I'll never fly so much as a kite again. Worst case scenario the company will sue me for negligence and I'll lose all of my savings, probably end up in a debtor's prison for the rest of my life, as that ship and it's cargo were worth more than I'd make in ten lifetimes.” I stood, my hands on my hips. “There's enough salvage at that crash site to make some miners very happy, perhaps happy enough to give the fellow who sold them the coordinates a skiff, a prefab and enough rations to last a good long while.” I watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. “What do you think?”

She stared at me for a moment, then her face split into a radiant smile, and she pulled the lip of her hood down with her upper pair of hands to cover it, embarrassed.

“I know a certain person who would like that very much.”