Alien romance
The first time I see her at the old tavern, I’m repulsed.
She acts as if she just landed on earth from another planet, laughing too hard, saying thing to me and other no woman in her right mind would say.
Then she looks at me and asks if I ever fucked an animal.
Everybody I know wants her to go away.
I refuse to talk to her, though she draws enough of a crowd at the bar to keep Tommy from tossing her out.
Even then, I can’t stop looking at her.
She looks back and knows exactly how attracted to her I really am.
I guess that’s why I take her out to my car for a little sexual experience.
I just can’t resist the urge and once I’m out there, I’m stunned at just how strange an experience it is.
Her tongue in my mouth feels too slimy for any human tongue, and when I am inside her I do feel as if I’m involved with something non-human.
Finally I ease out of my car and make my escape, seeing some strange shape in my rearview mirror that I attribute to mixing my drinks.
For the next few days I stay close to my old friends at the bar, even picking up on an old romance just so I know what to expect.
But I can’t get the other strange woman with the cat-like eyes out of my mind, knowing she is watching me, even smiling at me.
I keep my attention focused on the woman I’m with, then deliberately, as if to prove I’m no pervert, take this girl out to my car to screw around.
I’m stunned to discover how badly sex compares to the strange woman.
The whole time I ached to feel the strange woman’s scaly skin again, and taste her fish-like tongue in my mouth.
The girl I’m with senses something wrong and even guesses what it is.
She storms out of my car in a rage.
I am alone in my car staring out at the rain on the windshield, aching for the strange woman like I never did for any woman before in my life.
Maybe I’ve always been a little odd, always looking for something most people won’t want or think of as repulsive.
I even liked Donny Osmond, black jelly beans and yes, cod liver oil.
My friends got used to me and my odd tastes.
So maybe they might even get used to me dating this strange girl.
I go back inside and tell her we need to talk.
We drive off to a restaurant where we can sit quiet in a corner for a while.
That’s when she tells me she really is an alien from space, and that she and her people are scoping out my planet for a possible invasion.
It seems their planet is doomed and they need to move.
When she sees how upset I am by this news, she comforts me.
I shouldn’t worry about being destroyed along with all the other humans because I’m actually an alien, too.
This is why I get off so much by sex with her.
A long time ago a batch of her people came to earth.
They were supposed to report back, but decided they liked the place and stayed.
She and others like her are circling the globe, having sex with as many people as possible to find out which of us are aliens so that the invasion doesn’t kill us by mistake.
I guess running out of the restaurant screaming might be interpreted as a sign of panic.
I leave so fast that I don’t even bother to jump in my car.
I just run out into the rainy street, getting soaked, trying to deny what I’ve always known, how very well her explanation fills in the gaps in my life.
Now I fully understand why I always felt so out of touch with most people, how alienated I felt when it came to social life such as school where jocks and cool kids looked down their noses at people like me.
Even in my panic, I feel amazingly relieved, knowing at last why I never found a place in that social order.
And as I stroll, I miss that strange girl even more, and realized that connecting with her I might finally find the place in the world where I belong.
I know it won’t be like it is with human society. I won’t get my kicks picking on other people, hunting innocent animals, or destroying anything just for the thrill of it.
Somehow I already know that this new society will be a kinder and gentler one.
Or is it?
How can these aliens come here to kill human kind and still be kinder and gentler?
As bad as the jocks, teachers, and the rest of the human jerks have treated me, some also nurtured me.
After all, Earth is my adopted home, despite all its flaws and how terrible and lonely I have felt at times.
Love of an alien girl isn’t enough for me to turn my back on everyone.
So when I get back to her I tell her what I think.
She smiles and says many of us feel the same way.
She assures me not all humans will be killed.
After all, our race will need pets and servants.
This is a difficult world, she tells me, different in many ways from the place where our race first rose from its roots.
Some humans must survive to help make the world over to our needs.
This is why my kind, the adapted aliens, is needed.
We must choose who of the humans will live and who will die.
And despite my guilty conscience, I’ve already started the list in my head.