Hot Kofe

He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself, then quickly leaned over to the adjacent table, getting the attention of the woman and her husband.

"Sorry about my friend here," he whispered. "She's an alien, and it's her first time eating out at a place this fancy. She's still struggling with etiquette and human social conventions. She's not trying to disturb you on purpose, she's just excited to be here."

The woman's angry scowl softened a little, and she seemed somewhat taken aback by the fact that he was addressing her directly. They clearly knew nothing about aliens. Miller couldn't stand these rich tourists. She was probably a retiree from some wealthy colony planet, so vacuous that she had nothing better to do with her free time than wander space like a vagrant and waste her savings on frivolous crap.

"Well," she stammered, "I certainly hope that you'll instruct her properly so that this doesn't happen again in the future."

"Hell, I'm not all that well mannered myself," he admitted. "I'm an engineer, most of my time is spent crawling through ducts and fixing pipes. Feel free to let her know when she does something wrong."

That seemed to diffuse the situation, the woman sharing a glance with Kofe before returning to her meal. The complaints ceased, and Kofe gave Miller an appreciative look. She was a perceptive creature, could she tell that he was suppressing his anger? He had managed to turn the situation around through some rather deft social maneuvering, and that was something that Kofe had told him that her people found attractive.

The Polar seemed reassured, perking up as she resumed eating. Before long she was smiling happily again, the woman's rude comments forgotten as she dug into a wobbling slice of flan. Hearing the woman's snide remarks had made him rethink his own attitude towards the Polar. Did he sound like that woman when he complained about her behavior? Maybe he should lay off a little.

Kofe polished off the stack of assorted desserts very quickly, before long there was nothing left but crumbs. She licked her fingers clean of the cream and glazing contentedly, and the woman seemed to take offense, leaning over to whisper to her. Miller bristled, expecting another tirade. But instead, she politely informed the Polar that it was rude to lick one's fingers at the table and that she should use the napkins provided for her instead. Kofe thanked for her the advice, then actually followed through, using the napkins to clean her furry fingers. He was surprised that his ploy had worked so well, all of the tension between the two couples seemed to have dissipated.

When the waitress returned with the bill, she glanced between the two tables, apparently picking up on the lightened mood.

"Did you enjoy your dessert, ma'am?" she asked. "How were the religieuses?"

"They were great," Kofe replied happily, "you humans sure are small for a species that produces such good food."

The waitress chuckled as she handed Miller the slip of paper.

"Well that's great to hear, I hope you'll visit us again soon. I'll have a talk with the manager about getting a few Borealan-sized chairs and tables in here. I doubt they'll see much use, but we really should take more steps to accommodate our alien guests. If a Krell wanted a table, I have no idea what we'd do..."

"That would be nice," Kofe said, "but I don't mind the floor. I have a lot of cushion."

"I see," the waitress replied, struggling to curtail her laughter. She was having a very hard time maintaining her professional composure in the company of the boisterous Polar. "Well, I'll be happy to serve you if you ever eat here again. It was nice to meet you, Miss Kofe."

She extended a tiny hand, and Kofe examined it for a moment, then took it. She encompassed it entirely in her sausage-like fingers and shook it gently. Beaming, the waitress bid them good night and proceeded to one of the other tables. Kofe seemed very pleased by the interaction.

It was odd how different people responded to meeting aliens. Some were afraid of them, suspicious and wary. Some were curious almost to the point that it became inappropriate. Others, like the waitress, were immediately welcoming and friendly.

Miller glanced at the bill, thanking his stars that he had such a full bank account due to his miserly ways. Shipping fine ingredients billions of miles across space wasn't cheap, evidently. If he was spending so much, then he might as well give their waitress a hefty tip. Her efforts had gone a long way towards making Kofe feel welcome, and he appreciated it.

All in all, it had been a pretty good date...

CHAPTER 5: CLOSETED

"Thanks for sticking up for me back there," Kofe said, Miller's hand held in hers as they walked together beneath the dimming lamps of the torus. It was late, and the street was as clear as it ever got, the choking crowds having mostly retreated to their bunks and beds. There were still people everywhere, but one could walk without brushing shoulders with them at this time of night. In half an hour or so the lights would turn off to simulate darkness, with only the smaller lamps and the emergency lighting serving to illuminate the Pinwheel for those who worked the night shift.

"You looked so angry," Kofe continued, "I thought you were going to drag her out of the restaurant by the hair and throw her out of the nearest airlock."

"She certainly would have deserved it," Miller laughed, "but I didn't want to spoil the date for you. You seemed to be having a good time."

She nodded enthusiastically, pulling her black dress down where it was starting to ride up her thick thighs as she walked beside him.

"I had fun, and the food was good. I liked the dessert. Maybe there's something to be said for human courtship."

"So, am I walking you back to your apartment?" Miller asked.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Kofe chuckled, nudging him with her elbow and very nearly knocking him off his feet. He righted himself, straightening his shirt.

"Of course not, but it's late, and I have work tomorrow."

"I was kind of hoping we might go back to your place," she suggested, peering down at him expectantly with her blue eyes. "You slept over at my apartment, I'd like to see yours."

"Uh..." He looked her up and down pointedly. "Not that I don't want you to come over, but I have nowhere to put you. You'd barely fit on my bed, and my couch is scarcely large enough for a human to sleep on."

"We can find a way to make it work," she protested, "worst case scenario we can sleep together on the floor."

"I don't have an air mattress or a sleeping bag for you though."

Kofe patted her belly with her giant hand, grinning at him and baring her sharp teeth.

"You can use me as a mattress. I have a lot of cushion."

"Yeah, I can see that," he grumbled as his cheeks started to redden. "Alright, you can come visit for a couple of hours. But you can't stay over, alright? There really isn't anywhere for you to sleep. Come to think of it, it remains to be seen if we can even fit you inside the apartment. It's not very large, even for a human..."

"You're an engineer, you'll think of something."

***

"Well, here it is," Miller announced as he gestured to the door of his apartment. "Home sweet home."

He swiped his ID card in a reader that was embedded in the frame and the door slid open with a whoosh. He stepped over the threshold, Kofe leaning down to poke her head through the doorway behind him, examining his abode.

It was open-plan, just as Kofe's residence had been, but the entire apartment could have fit in her home three or four times over. The ceiling was lower, meaning that she had to crouch as she struggled through the door, her fluffy bulk catching on the frame. She wiggled and twisted, trying to get her wide hips past the obstruction, until finally Miller took her by the hand and helped to pull her through. She stood up, knocking her head on the ceiling and grumbling to herself as she rubbed it, crouching to a more appropriate height.

"I'm afraid that I can't offer you much to drink that doesn't have an insanely high alcohol content for a Borealan," he said as he made his way towards the fridge. "I have water if you're still too hot, and the freezer dispenses ice cubes."

"Water would be fine," she replied, "is there somewhere I can sit down?"

The apartments were all laid out very similarly, they all shared the same basic floor plan. There was a living room and a kitchen, and then a bathroom and a bedroom that were sectioned off behind their own doors for privacy. Miller gestured to the couch that was placed in front of a wall-mounted TV in the living room.

"You can try that, but as I said earlier, everything in my apartment is going to be miniature to you. Hop off it again if you hear any ominous creaks, I don't need to be shelling out for a new couch after that restaurant bill."

She waddled across the room and lowered herself down tentatively onto the cushions, the frame sagging beneath her weight. Her rump was large enough to take up both seats, her fat hips spilling over the armrests. Miller was worried that the next time she stood up, she might take it with her.

He returned and handed her a glass of ice water, then turned to leave again, intending to drag one of the kitchen chairs over to the living room. Kofe grabbed his arm, and he looked back at her with a confused expression.

"There's nowhere for me to sit," he complained.

She patted her meaty thigh with her other hand, grinning at him expectantly. He opened his mouth to refuse, but before he could utter so much as a no, she had plucked him off the ground by his collar and had deposited him on her lap. She curled an arm around him to keep him from wriggling free, trapping him in a hug as he struggled in vain to escape. He relaxed after a few moments, accepting his fate as he realized that resistance was futile, the soft fur on her bicep tickling his face as she held him tightly.

Her thighs were softer than the cushions of the couch would have been, it was like sitting on a waterbed that had been wrapped in a furry blanket. Once she felt him relax, she loosened her death grip on him, supporting him with her arm as he leaned back against it. Her breasts were so large that it was impossible to avoid contact with them, the nearest boob eating his shoulder and pressing against his cheek. Her dress was thin and floaty, made from linen, and it clung to her as if she had been vacuum-packed into it. He was amazed that it hadn't torn open and expelled her furry paunch by now, she had been wearing it for hours. She rested her dinner plate sized hand on his thigh, her furry fingers roaming tantalizingly close to his groin.

"See? There's room," Kofe chuckled as she took a sip of her water. The glass was tiny in her massive hand, even his largest pint glass was scarcely the size of a soda can to her.

"You weren't joking about the living space," she said as she looked around the apartment, "this really is pokey. You should come and live with me, there's plenty of room."

"Move in with you!?" Miller exclaimed, Kofe watching him with a sly expression as choked on his words. "I agreed to go on one date, we're not...this isn't...me and you aren't a thing, that isn't how this works."

"We've been on three dates," Kofe protested, pouting. "And I read that on the third date humans are expected to-"

Miller interrupted her by shaking his head vigorously. Sure the date had been a lot of fun, and he was starting to warm up to her, but Kofe moved faster than a Courser. Even with a human partner, he might not have been ready to take things to the next level yet, or even to skip right over several levels as Kofe seemed to be suggesting. He wasn't sure if she was joking or not, but her comment had the intended effect of making his face as red as a tomato, Kofe smirking at his expression as he sat on her lap like she was an oversized Santa Claus.

"Well, you did invite me over to your place on the night of our third date, what's a girl to assume?"

"You begged to see my apartment!"

"Semantics. We've been on three dates, and I'm staying over at your place for the night. Your friends and coworkers will assume that we're a couple now, and according to the customs of your people, you owe me a kiss."

"Oh no," Miller protested, starting to wriggle in her grasp. She had tightened her hold on him, her long arm wrapped around his torso to trap his arms at his sides and her heavy breast pushing against him through the thin fabric of her dress. "Where did you read that? In some trashy online publication? There are no set limits on when people are supposed to...on when they take things further. It depends on the individuals."

"Don't you want to kiss me?" Kofe asked, putting on a distressed tone. He was caught speechless for a few moments, staring up into her blue eyes as she batted her lashes at him. Miller was suddenly painfully aware of her pink lips, the way that they reflected the light, so full and lush...

He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

"It's not about that. Besides, how would that even work? I've seen your tongue, it's as long as my forearm and covered in barbs."

"I never said anything about using my tongue," she replied slyly, and his cheeks burned an even brighter shade of red. "Sounds like you're letting your imagination get ahead of you there, Jeff. But if you insist..."

His stomach lurched as she leaned him back in her arms, curling one hand beneath him to support his back and cradling his head with the second, like a scene from a romance movie. She loomed over him, casting him into shadow, bringing her face down level with his. She stopped with her lips an inch away from his own, the scents of her soaps and perfumes invading his head like the creeping tendrils of some evil octopus. God, she smelled good. Did all Polars groom themselves so diligently or was it just Kofe?

Miller had never really felt this way before. He was skirting six feet, a gruff grease monkey with a sour temper and an imposing build, he had never been on the receiving end of a woman's advances like this. In all of his prior relationships, he had been the one to make the first move, the one to initiate and the one to take charge. Why did this make him feel so...fluttery? He felt like there was an angry swarm of butterflies in his stomach and his heart was hammering against his ribcage as if it was trying to break free.

To his surprise, she didn't proceed with her unsolicited kiss, hanging there above him as if waiting for something. Her long, slate-grey hair fell about her face, cascading past his head and seeming to seal the two of them off from the rest of the world.

"Come on Jeff," she whispered, her warm breath tickling his skin. "We had fun on our date, didn't we? I know you like me, your pupils are dilated, I can hear your heart beating faster and faster the closer I get to you. I can smell the pheromones in your sweat. Would one little kiss be so bad?"

He realized that she was waiting for his permission, his consent, despite his body already being under her spell. No, it was more than that. She wanted him to ask for it, she was waiting to hear the words from his own mouth.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," Miller mumbled.

Kofe drew him closer, her soft lips pressing against his. They were larger than those of a human, but it wasn't a hindrance, so full and smooth as she locked him in a gentle embrace. The kiss was downright modest, Kofe lingering for a moment before she drew back with a smack to peer down at him with her reflective, feline eyes. She waited, her pink nose twitching. Miller found himself wanting more, and he realized that she was waiting for him to come to her. This wasn't just a kiss, it was some kind of mind game. Kofe was baiting him, wearing down his defenses until he couldn't help but throw himself at her. It was working.

He raised a hand tentatively, combing her furry cheek with his fingers. It was smoother and silkier than the fur on the rest of her body, like running his hand across satin. She smiled at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat. He couldn't help himself, rising to kiss her of his own accord.

That seemed to satisfy the Polar, her grip on him tightening as she met his lips. This time she opened them, the metallic taste of her saliva pricking his taste buds as her kiss became more daring and sensual. He felt the tip of her tapered tongue slide into his mouth, slow, exploratory. A pleasant shiver coursed up his spine and his eyes closed of their own accord as her organ gently glanced his own, entwining in a slow dance.

It was so large, thick and wide as well as long, yet flexible and yielding. It appeared that Kofe was holding back for the moment, teasing him with nothing more than a couple of inches of its near foot-long length.

He had expected the barbs that coated its surface to be rough like sandpaper, but instead, they were rather dull. The underside of her monstrous tongue was as smooth as that of a human, flesh like wet silk gliding against his inner cheeks and glancing the roof of his mouth as she tasted him.

Kofe withdrew, giving him a moment to catch his breath, wetting her lips suggestively as she poised above him. This close to him, her inviting scent filled his nose, the shampoos and perfumes that she used to treat her snow-white fur making her smell like a bouquet of freshly-picked flowers. There were hints of red berries too, cocoa butter, and a touch of mint that might have been from her toothpaste. It was inescapable, invading his senses with every staggered breath that he took.

She soon leaned back down again, running her fingers through his hair and pricking his scalp with her claws as her kissing took on a more lurid quality. Her embrace became greedy, wanton, Kofe piling more of her obscene length past his lips. She quickly filled his mouth, bulging his cheeks, her dexterous organ licking him from the inside. She painted his palate with her tongue and drew shapes in his cheeks, the narrow tip grazing the back of his throat. It was the deepest and most unrestrained kiss that he had ever been subjected to, his spine arching and his loins beginning to swell as she ravished him.

He felt drunk, dazed, like her slippery tongue was sapping his strength. He had completely relaxed in her arms, limp and pliable save for his slow writhing. She held him tightly, possessively, every powerful stroke of her organ making stars dance before his eyes.

How could she be so gentle and considerate of his human limitations, yet so unbridled and bawdy? He tried to meet her kiss, but it was hopeless. She was so much larger and stronger than he was, her sinuous organ roiling in his mouth as his tiny human tongue mounted a futile resistance, the invader so long and flexible that she could completely encompass it in a prison of wet velvet.

Again Kofe pulled back, the length of her tongue sliding out of his mouth like a giant strand of spaghetti, leaving him gasping in her arms. The sagging web of saliva that connected their lips broke, falling to his burning cheek, Kofe cleaning it away with her furry thumb. Her black claws were like meat hooks, but she was so careful with them, always keeping them clear of his skin.

"Was it as bad as you expected it to be?" she whispered, her voice breathy and husky. She chewed on her lower lip covetously as she watched him attempt to compose himself, still prone in her arms. Her breasts were pressing down on him with a surprising weight through the thin fabric of her dress, the doughy fat spreading across his torso and thighs such that he was practically buried in it. They were so large that one couldn't even get close to her without bumping into them, like she was surrounded by a force field of soft flesh. He prayed that she couldn't feel the hardness that was digging into one of them.