The Naked Planet

Author's Note: I wrote this short story to pay homage to those classic sci-fi paperback novels of the fifties, the golden age of science fiction, and their authors: legends of the genre such as Isaac Asimov, Philip K. Dick and Poul Anderson, just to name a few. This story is also my entry to the 2014 Literotica Nude Day contest. A minimum of 25 votes are required for the story to be eligible for the contest, so any and all votes are appreciated (and comments too)!

*All characters involved in sexual situations in this story are eighteen years of age or older*

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"And they were both naked...and were not ashamed." Genesis 2:25

He woke with a violent start, and burst forth from the cold, dark liquid that enveloped him. He couldn't see in the smothering darkness, but he could feel something latched onto his face, its tentacles constricting around his head.

He panicked as he blindly clawed at it, tearing at its rubbery flesh as he tried to rip it loose. Finally it gave, and he wretched as he pulled it away and felt its tail slithering out from deep in his throat; with an anguished cry, he wrenched it free and threw it into the darkness.

He took a deep lungful of air, savoring the sensation of it filling his lungs, and listened to his heart pounding in the eerie darkness as the delirium faded and the first rays of memory pierced the fog blanketing his brain.

He was in space.

"Cabin light on," he said, and a faint blue glow illuminated the interior of the small, windowless, capsule.

He was sitting waist deep in a pool of golden liquid in a stasis pod in the center of the capsule. The stasis mask he'd torn free from his face was hanging down the side, its straps broken. He stood up and beads of golden liquid rolled down his naked body as he stepped from the pod.

There was a storage compartment on the side, and he pulled a neatly folded, light gray jumpsuit from it. He put it on, zipped it closed and bent over to grab the black boots from the compartment.

A wave of dizziness rolled over him and he grabbed the side of the pod for support. He shook his head, trying to clear away the final few filaments of fog that still blanketed his brain, and then pulled the boots on.

His memory was returning. He'd been in deep sleep, but had no idea how many days, months or even years had passed since he'd left the space station. He looked around the cabin and saw a red light flashing on a console.

Red was bad. He remembered that. The light should have been green if he was awake.

He leaned over the console and stared at the warning light. Something was wrong, that was why the ship's quantum computer had woken him from deep sleep. He touched the screen and the monitor woke with a silvery glow.

The chronometer showed that he'd been traveling for a little more than two hundred days since he'd left Earth's orbit. But he knew that, with the time distortion caused by wormhole travel, there was no way of knowing exactly how much time had passed on Earth.

He slid the screen sideways and a star chart appeared, showing that he was now on the other side of the wormhole, a section of deep space far from the nearest solar system.

Everything appeared to be going as planned; why was the warning light on? He slid the screen again to check the ship's indicators, making sure all systems were working correctly and that the craft was still on course. When he saw the readout he blinked, not believing it, and wondered if the deep sleep delirium was still making him imagine things.

He checked the indicator again: ship velocity zero. He knew the reading was impossible. The craft should have been plummeting through space at more than twenty-five thousand miles an hour. How could it be motionless?

Looking at the start chart again, he saw he was in an empty sector of space; there was nothing to land on. And if the mission had been successful and the spacecraft had landed, the light would have been flashing green, not red. He sighed in frustration, wishing there was some way to see outside of the ship. But he knew there were no windows or external cameras; they weren't considered necessary for the mission he'd been sent on.

He tapped a corner of the screen to check the external sensor readings, and leaned closer to make sure he was seeing them right. The temperature and atmosphere readings were exactly what he would have expected to see if he'd landed on a HET class planet -- habitable, extra-solar, and terrestrial -- and the ship definitely wasn't moving. He had to be on solid ground.

Tapping commands into the console, he tried to override the controls on the quantum computer to take a new bearing; either the star charts were wrong or the galactic positioning sensors weren't working right. But it was pointless, the protocols they'd put in place specifically for him prevented anyone inside the capsule from being able to override any of the ship's navigational systems.

He banged his hand off the console in frustration; if the ship didn't realize that it had landed, he'd never be able to initiate another launch sequence. Even if he had somehow stumbled across a HET class planet, he'd never be able to leave. Never be able to let them know that his mission had been successful. He was marooned.

He stared at the escape hatch, knowing that if he opened it and the ship's sensors were wrong and the star charts were right, and he was still in deep space, he'd die instantly. He'd already cheated death once, could he cheat it a second time?

The survival belt was mounted to the wall, and he took it and fastened it around the waist of his jumpsuit. He then tapped a button on the console and a weapon compartment slid open. He removed the disruptor pistol from inside and attached it to his belt.

He tapped a command into the screen, telling the computer to open the outer door. There was no protocol against opening it in deep space; the scientists could have never imagined one would be necessary as opening the door there would mean certain death.

The command was delayed a few seconds as the cabin adjusted to the outside pressure, and then the door quietly slid open.

He staggered back as sunlight flooded the small capsule. To his eyes, so sensitive after more than eight months of utter darkness, the light was blinding.

But as his eyes adjusted to the glare, the colors outside came into focus. He stepped through the opening and the first thing he noticed was the sky, which was a brilliant azure blue. Around the capsule was a lush forest, filled with wild, alien flora. The strangely shaped leaves of the plants and trees were all shades of green and purple, and vividly colored red and yellow flowers dotted the forest floor.

The explosion of color was a shock to his senses. The bleak colors of Earth were nothing compared to the wild palette of the alien landscape before him.

He knew there was life in this forest, he could hear it. Insects buzzed through the trees and winged creatures, similar in size and shape to the birds on Earth, flew overhead. He wished he could have compared it to a wild forest back home, but the only ones he'd ever seen had been sealed for their protection in terra-domes.

Climbing down from the capsule, he took his first step on the alien planet. The ship's sensors had already confirmed the temperature, radiation and atmosphere were all acceptable; now he had to find the most important thing -- simple, beautiful and oh-so-precious water.

He knew it had to be here. He refused to believe that a forest as spectacular as this one could grow without it. He just had to find it. He turned around, wondering which direction to head in. There were no remote sensors on the ship, nothing he could take with him to help look for water.

The craft had been designed for one purpose, to find a HET class planet, and he was the guinea pig, the canary in the coal mine that would explore the planet. If he survived, the sensors in his suit would send a signal back to the ship, the ship would return through the wormhole -- with or without him -- and a pulse signal would be sent to Earth, letting them know a habitable planet had been discovered.

But the green light had never turned on. The craft's landing systems must have automatically activated as soon as its sensors detected that it had entered an atmosphere. But as far as the ship was concerned, its navigation system operating off the information provided by the star charts, it was still drifting through outer space.

He shook his head in disbelief. How could Earth's astronomers have missed something like this? It was light years away, but still well within the area of the galaxy considered observed space.

He grabbed a spear-head shaped leaf from a nearby branch and tore it in half, hoping its physiology would give him a clue to where he might start looking for water. He looked up from it to see if there were clouds in the sky, and saw a movement in front of him.

Something was on the other side of the tree. He dropped the leaf and drew his pistol, slowly backing away toward his spacecraft.

Then he saw her, shyly peeking out from around the tree trunk. He shook his head, sure that he had to be dreaming. But he knew there were no dreams in deep sleep, and the sounds and colors of this world were too vibrant, too real.

The girl stepped out from behind the tree and tilted her head as she watched him with an untamed curiosity.

She was completely nude, and by Earth terms, he would have described her as looking to be in her late teens. But no earthly words could capture her indescribable beauty. She stepped through the grass toward him, her gently tanned body perfect in every way imaginable and her long, tawny hair, bleached blonde by the sun, tumbling down her back. Though she was half a head shorter than him, her legs were long and lean. But he'd be lying if he said he was looking at her legs.

Her full, firm breasts were flawless and he couldn't take his eyes off them as they bounced toward him. She was a vision, and her ethereal beauty and stunning form made it impossible to look away.

As she closed to within ten feet of him, he leveled the pistol at her chest and said, "Stay back!"

But if she knew the danger she was in, she didn't show it; she just flashed a disarming smile at him and kept coming.

His finger tightened on the trigger. She looked so human, but he knew she couldn't be. Fearing her appearance had to be an illusion, he imagined her arms morphing into tentacles as her jaw slowly distended, revealing a maw of razor sharp teeth just before she devoured him like a Venus flytrap.

She was so close now. The weapon trembled in his hand. She reached out for it and he quickly pulled it away, out of reach behind his back. If her appearance was an illusion it was a damn good one; he couldn't kill something that looked like her.

She was right in front of him; her naked flesh inches away from the fabric of his jumpsuit. He could smell her scent, like wildflowers, and he didn't think he'd ever smelled anything so beautiful in his life.

She leaned close, sniffing at his uniform while he inhaled deeply of the exotic aroma of her hair, intoxicated by the heady perfume, and then she wrinkled her nose and stepped back, still staring curiously at his uniform.

When she'd first come toward him and he'd seen her body he didn't think anything could be more perfect; now that he saw her face, he realized he'd been wrong. Her soft lips and perfect teeth drew him in, but what really captured his attention were her eyes. As they stared softly at him from beneath her long lashes, he noticed they were hazel and had turned golden in the sun. And he could see there wasn't a speck of fear in them.

She flashed her beautiful smile again and he felt like his heart was going to melt. But then it skipped a beat instead, as she reached out and gently slid her slender fingers across his chest, feeling the fabric.

He glanced down and saw that she was running them across the name tag sewn on the front of his uniform, tracing the letters.

"Caleb," he said, reading the tag. "That's my name, Caleb."

She glanced up at him, watching his lips move, and then repeated, "Kay-leb."

"You can talk! That's right," he said, and pointed to himself. "Caleb."

She then brushed her fingers above her breast, the same place a name tag would have been if she'd had any clothes on, and said, "Hannah. Name is Hannah."

Caleb blinked in surprise. "You speak my language?!"

She tilted her head in confusion, not understanding the word.

"Like me, you can speak like me?"

She smiled and pressed a finger against his lips and then against her own. "Talk," she said.

Caleb's mind reeled. How was it possible that she looked so human and spoke his language? Ancient legends hinted that Man had first come from beyond the stars. Was it possible that they'd ended up on this planet too?

"Who...I mean, what are you?" he said.

"Hannah is daughter."

"Yes, I know that. I mean...umm..." Caleb was finding it hard to concentrate on what he wanted to say. She was still running her hand across his uniform, fascinated by the feel of it, and as she touched him he couldn't help stealing a peek at her firm, high breasts with their beautifully upturned nipples, and sneaking a glance down her flat stomach toward the tawny patch between her legs, glistening in the sun.

She kept running her hand across the breast of his uniform, captivated by the strange surface. And then, as if to emphasize the differences that were confusing her, she took Caleb's hand and placed it on her own breast.

His pulse quickened as he felt the soft but firm flesh, her erect nipple pressing into his palm. And as he gently squeezed her full breast she stroked her fingers across his flat, muscular chest.

"Different," she said, glancing down at his hand, which was still caressing her firm, perfect tit.

"Uh huh," he moaned, "we're different."

She ran her hand down his uniform, letting it slide lower, toward his waist. "What is it?" she said.

He let go of her breast and glanced down, hoping she wasn't referring to his rapidly stiffening cock. But then he realized she was talking about what he was wearing.

"This is my uniform," he said, swallowing nervously as her fingers traced up across his Adam's apple and then returned down his chest. "You know...clothes."

She shook her head at the strange word.

"Clothes...this is what we wear on the planet I come from. Don't your people wear clothes?" he said, secretly thankful that -- if they did -- she wasn't wearing any now.

She bent down, picked a purple flower and placed it behind her ear. "No wear clothes. Wear flower."

"It's beautiful," he said, and smiled at her. But behind his smile he couldn't help thinking how primitive the people of this planet had to be if they hadn't even learned to wear animal skins and furs yet.

She reached toward him, pulling at the fabric of his uniform. "Take off clothes."

Caleb blushed as he pulled her eager hands away, and said, "I can't do that. I have to leave them on."

"Why? Why wear clothes?"

"They...umm...they keep me warm," he said.

She blinked in confusion at his answer, and then turned her heart-shaped face toward the sun, smiling as it gently caressed her skin with its golden rays. "Warm," she said.

"Yes, I realize it's warm here...very warm," he said, sweating under his uniform. "But that's not the only reason I'm wearing clothes."

He was about to say he also needed them for protection, but he realized the flimsy fabric the jumpsuit was made of wouldn't protect him from a sharp stick. "I just...I just wear them because I need to."

She shook her head, unable to make sense of his answer. "Take off clothes."

"No, I -- I can't."

"Take off clothes," she repeated, as her hands slid across his uniform, trying to figure out how to remove it. Then her hand slid below his belt, brushing against his swollen cock.

She started when she touched it, taking a step back in disbelief, and then pounced on it like a kitten that had spotted something moving beneath a blanket.

"What is it?!" she said, pressing her hand against his crotch with unconcealed curiosity.

Now he really blushed. "It's my...umm, you know...my penis," he whispered, as if afraid someone would hear him.

"Pee-nizz?" she repeated, trying to pronounce the strange word while her hand squeezed him through his uniform, exploring every inch.

"Uh huh," he moaned, as she massaged his stiff flesh through the soft fabric. "You know...a penis. A cock."

"Cock," she said, enjoying the feel of the strange word in her mouth. She used her finger to trace the outline of his erection, unable to take her eyes off of it. "Take off clothes. Show Hannah cock."

Caleb glanced around. He had no idea what the males of her species were like, but he guessed that they wouldn't appreciate finding their first visitor from outer space alone with one of their women, showing her his hard-on. "Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," he said reluctantly.

But she wouldn't be dissuaded. "Show Hannah cock," she repeated, and tried to tear away the fabric covering his crotch.

"Whoa, gentle!" he said, surprised at her strength. "You're going to tear more than the uniform."

She stepped back, gently biting her lower lip as she kept staring at his obvious bulge. "Please, Hannah will be gentle. Show Hannah cock."

Caleb glanced around again. It seemed like they were alone. A little part of his brain, probably the part connected to his penis, reasoned that if he showed it to her he might be able to convince her to lead him to water. Besides, she was obviously curious, and definitely persistent.

He took a deep breath and checked a third time to make sure they were alone. With a nervous smile, he started undoing his belt.

He knew it was stupid to feel self-conscious about being naked when she was standing completely nude in front of him, but he still felt awkward as he slowly unzipped his jumpsuit.

Hannah instantly stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she slid her hand inside. He couldn't unzip it fast enough for her and she forced her hand down, squealing with delight when it wrapped around his stiff cock.

"Gentle," he moaned.

Now that her hand was already in his jumpsuit, he didn't bother undressing any further. He just stood there, nervously keeping an eye out for unexpected company as Hannah's cool hand explored his cock and fondled his balls.

But she didn't want to just touch it, she wanted to see it. "Take off clothes," she said, her blonde hair soft against his chest as she leaned against him, trying to peek down the front of his uniform.

Caleb nodded. Her touch was driving him crazy, and his cock was throbbing in her hand. He was just pulling his right arm out of the sleeve when they heard it.

A horn sounded in the distance. Loud and long, like a foghorn warning of unseen danger. She started at the sound, and turned to look in the direction it came from.

"What is it?" Caleb said.

As the horn sounded a second blast, she yanked her hand out of his jumpsuit. And by the time the third blast had sounded she was already running back through the trees toward it.

"Hey, wait!" Caleb cried, pulling his uniform back on as he ran after her.

He was only seconds behind her, but she was soon outdistancing him as she raced through the woods with an animal grace while he stumbled behind her, tripping over roots while branches whipped at his face.

She was disappearing into the distance. He could see she'd reached the edge of a clearing ahead and he called, "Hannah, wait!"

At the sound of her name she stopped and looked back at him, waiting for him to catch up to her. When he did he fell to his knees, sweat beaded on his forehead as he gasped for air and tried to catch his breath.