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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Woods World {Kelliswan} (MMFf alien ScFi oral anal) [2/13]
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Date: Mon, 24 Apr 2017 19:10:03 -0400
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Woods World
by Kelliswan


Chapter 2: From Woods to Palace

Lola awoke to find light seeping under the edge of the tree branches and
dwarves stirring all around her, calling back and forth to each other.
She turned over and found Korn watching.

His eyes were bright.  "It is morning, Lola!  Are you hungry?"

"Famished!"

"Then let us go."

She crawled after him toward the light.  The intervening dwarves, now 
awake, moved aside to allow her passage.

Outside the morning sun was just peeking over the treetops at the edge 
of the large clearing.  This early the arch was still visible in the 
blue sky, fading to obscurity just above the trees to sunward.  Dwarves
streamed from under the spreading night tree, leapt to their feet and 
bounded toward the west, assuming the sun still rose in the east.  Korn
merely walked nonchalantly ahead of her.

"What's their rush?" she asked.  "Do the first get the best?"

"No," he replied over his shoulder, "they just feel good in the morning.
And we have many fruchup trees."

Stepping longer, she drew alongside him.  "Is fruchup really all you 
have to eat?"

He blinked at her.  "We also have a melon tree, but nothing is as good 
as fruchup."

She said dryly, "Meaning that your melon is worse than fruchup.  You 
poor guys!"

He frowned momentarily before accusing, "You and Stard!"

She nodded.  "I am closer to his size.  But I like you little guys 
better.  Maybe I'll bring you tastier food."

"No such thing!" he declared positively.  "You like us because we are 
loving."

She grinned.  "Often!"

"You too are often.  You make us loving."

"That's a kind thing to say, Korn.  You guys are little sweethearts, you
know."

"What is a sweetheart?"

"Someone who likes you.  A lot."

Korn nodded in satisfaction.  "Yes, we are Lola's sweethearts and she is
ours."

After a few more steps she said, "Korn, something is wrong?"

"'Wrong?'  How?"

"When I went to sleep I was all sticky.  Now" -- she felt in her crotch,
raised an arm and sniffed beneath it -- "now I'm clean as a whistle!  
How can that be?"

"Night tree feathers."

"'F-feathers?'"

"They grow thick on the tree roots and clean us up while we sleep."

"A bed that cleans the sleepers," she marveled.  "Imagine that!  I take
it back.  Now something is _right_!"

Dwarves crowded around the fruchup tree that Korn chose, but it was wide
enough still to possess attached blisters.

"What I would give for a cup of coffee!" said Lola around a mouthful of
the un-spiced meaty pudding.

"What is coffee?"

"Don't ask that.  I don't want to think about it.  The trouble with 
these bowls is that I like to wet my whistle before I eat.  Huh!  Can 
you guys even whistle?"

Korn swallowed, pursed his lips and trilled like the bird she had yet to
hear.

Her eyes widened.  "Boy, can you ever!  Why don't you do it more often?"

He shrugged.  "No reason."

"You should.  It makes you sound happy.  That's a question.  What makes
you guys happy, Korn?"

"Fucking."

"Nothing else?  Really?"  She shook her head.  "I know what: I'll teach
you how to play games."

He repeated appreciatively, "'Wet your whistle' meaning to drink.  I 
like it.  If you are thirsty you can use an old bowl."  He looked around
and picked one up from the ground.  "Like this one."

She regarded it with disdain.  "Germs, Korn -- which you never heard 
of."

"Or you could bend over the brook and suck up the water."  He smiled at
her.  "You do suck well!"

She grinned at him.  "Don't think I ever before enjoyed being told I 
suck.  Where's the closest water?"

"Past that rock.  Come."

At the stream she bent and sucked up a mouthful, also a nose full, which
produced a sneeze.  Ignoring Korn's laughter and trying again, she 
cupped her hand, dipped it into the water and was more successful 
sucking from that.

When satisfied, she regarded him suspiciously.  "You expected that."

He chuckled.  "The trick is to dip your chin."

"Was that your finger in my crack?"  She looked down further.  "Yes, I 
see it was."

"Your crack is wet.  'Crack?'  I thought it was 'pussy.'"

"It's both.  Pussies are always moist and mine is getting moister."  Her
hand encircled him.  "Korn, you have such a nice straight cock!"

"You only say that because you do not."

"Unless you loan it to me."

"Bend over again."

She backed away from the stream, turned away and sank to all fours, 
feeling her moisture rapidly increase.  She was ready for him when he 
presented and thoroughly enjoyed the consequences.

Other dwarves gathered around them.  She looked up.  "You guys are so 
much alike!  But ... is that you, Murr?"

The dwarf smiled.  "You know me."

"I know your cock.  Give it here."

"That is amazing, Lola."

"What is?"

"That you can remember one cock after so many."

The conversation momentarily distracted her from the action in her 
bottom.  She studied Murr curiously.  "Did you finally get to fuck me 
yesterday?"

"Beside the fruchup tree after supper."

"I don't remember it from that.  My pussy watered for it earlier while 
we sat on your rock."

"'Watered for it,'" he repeated with a chuckle.  "You are funny, Lola."

"I make jokes unconsciously."

She opened her mouth wide and he ended the conversation by filling it.

With her attention fixed upon internal matters, she began to moan then 
to whimper, grunting to the rhythm in her bottom.  Shortly Korn removed
his dripping cock, which was immediately replaced by another.  He stood
nearby, watching in vicarious pleasure, as the dwarves traded off 
between front and back.

He bent to look closer.  "Blin, did you know you are up her ass?"

The addressed dwarf sucked in his belly and looked down.  "No!" he 
declared.  "I wonder how that happened.  Should I take it out?"

"Leave it there.  Tuskan, her pussy is empty.  Crawl under her and fill
it."

Eyes alight, Tuskan worked his way into position and straining upward, 
thrust into her the full length of his shaft.

Lola had just swallowed a large deposit while the rest of it gushed out
of her mouth around the departing cock.  "Oh, god," she cried, "I love 
you little guys!"


* * *


She came to her senses sitting on the ground, leaning back on a tree 
trunk.  Only Korn stood beside her, chewing on a leaf.

"Wow!"

He grinned.  "I think you do love us."

"Oh, I do.  You little guys fuck like bunnies."

"What is bunny?"

"I take it back.  I've watched bunnies fuck.  The male is on and right 
off.  You guys last a couple minutes.  That's lots better."

"Even though our cocks are shorter than Stard's?"

"Stard!  He's such a fizzle."

"I can guess what that means."

"Of course, if there was more than one Stard ..."

"You would like a lot of bigger cocks, would you?"

She grinned at him, shaking her head.  "We won't go there.  Tell me, 
Korn.  You guys are very good at fucking, but don't you do anything 
else?"

"Nothing beats fucking.  But, yes, we do one other thing we call the 
knocking game."  He smiled at her expression.  "Does it surprise you 
that we play a game?"

"'Knocking?'  What do you knock?"

"A mark on a tree.  Do you see the knot on that tree through there?  
Like this."

He picked up the ubiquitous sling bag, withdrew a strap and a pebble, 
bent the strap around the pebble, whirled the combination fiercely 
around his head twice then let his arm relax.

"What --" Lola began but stopped when a loud crack resounded from deeper
in the woods.  She peered and said instead, "What was that?"

Korn stared at her and said indignantly, "What do you think?"

She saw that the pebble was gone from the dangling strap.  "You mean 
..."  Again she studied the woods.  "But that tree must be 100 yards 
away!  I can barely see the mark."

"Let us go look closer."

"What for?"

"Because my pebble is half-buried in that knot."

"You could fling it that hard?"

"Not fling; _sling_."

"Oh, wow!  That's amazing!"

"That is the game: who can knock closest to the center of the farthest 
mark."

She was impressed.  "Are all of you that good?"

"Or better."

"Can I try it?"

Without comment he passed her the sling and a pebble.  She examined the
latter: brown, surprisingly spherical, almost as big as a golf ball and
surprisingly heavy.  Folding the strap around it, she brought the ends 
together and raised her arm.  Immediately the pebble fell out, striking
her toe.

"Ouch!"

Korn covered his mouth, eyes dancing.  She picked up the pebble to try 
again but he took it from her.

"You have the sling turned backwards.  Do it like this."  He inserted 
the pebble, brought the sling ends together and offered them to her.

"Oh, it does form a pouch!" she said ingenuously, taking the ends.

This time the pebble stayed in the sling.  She whirled it around her 
head several times but when her arm relaxed, the sling still contained 
the pebble.

Lifting it to her eyes, she said plaintively, "Why didn't it fly?"

Korn looked puzzled.  Then his face cleared.  "You must flick your 
wrist."

"Flick it how?"

Again he was puzzled and shook his head.  "I do not know how to tell 
you.  We come knowing from mother."

"From the mother tree?"

"Yes, the mother tree."

"And I suppose you get your slings ..."

"From the knock tree."

She blinked.  "Not the sling tree?"

"The knock tree."

She took a deep breath.  "But you come from the mother tree.  Will you 
show me one?"

"Follow me."  He grinned over his shoulder.  "I will even fuck one for 
you."

"Fuck a tree!  This I wish to see."

Korn led her deeper into the woods.  They stopped at a fat tree 
differing from the others in that its leaves were thinner.  He walked 
around it until he stood before a low knot with a bulge in the bark 
around it.  As he rubbed the knot, actually its circular bulge, Lola 
noticed that his cock was rising.  In astonishment her eyes went back 
and forth between dwarf and tree, upon which the bulge was thickening.

After a moment of this Korn moved hand to cock and stepped forward.  
Apparently the knot that Lola had thought to be exposed tree hide was 
now a small, indented hole that glistened with moisture.  Korn's erect 
cock, easily as large as most human males' she had known, slid easily 
within the hole, which expanded around it in the manner of a receptive 
vagina.

Korn began to fuck, turning his head to regard Lola.  "Do you see?  I am
fucking the mother tree."

She nodded with a sigh.  "Yes, I see.  In addition to 
each-other-fuckers, you are all just motherfuckers."

"Do not the Pri-- men of your home fuck mothers?"

"Oh, yes," she said dryly, "before and after."

"But we do not just fuck mother trees and each other."

"Who else?"

He grinned fatuously.  "Now we also fuck Lola."

"Yes, you do."  She giggled.  "You guys remind me of teenage boys who 
fuck knotholes."

Apparently he did not hear.  His hips were moving faster.

"Hey, Korn, don't waste that sweet jizz in a tree!"

But a moment later he withdrew a dripping cock.  She noticed that the 
knothole had now returned to its original tree-hide appearance.

"That made me hot, Korn."  She dropped to her knees, caught his hips, 
turned him toward her and sucked in the wet organ, but he tolerated her
only briefly before stepping back.

She looked up.  "I can't believe the mother tree feels better inside 
than my pussy."

He took a deep breath.  "It is wet and soft, like your pussy, only yours
smells more of flesh than wood.  But sometimes the mother knot swells up
really big and pushes out a new Pridan.  Can your pussy do that?"

She shook her head.  "I sure hope not!"


* * *


In a later orgy that day Lola decided she was no longer the fresh meat 
that all must indulge.  Other Pridans fucked and sucked each other while
alternate threes maintained her heavenly bliss.  Twice she had tried to
count them but found sufficient concentration impossible.

With the tree trunk shadows long on the ground, she lay spraddle-legged,
propped on her elbows, saturated in Pridan ejaculate, and declared, "You
guys are fucking me out of my mind!"

The ever present Korn commented, "We have noticed that and we envy you.
Who can want to think of something else?"

"It's so good only because I can trust you to take care of me.  And, 
boy, do you ever!"

He smiled.  "It is good to take care of Lola."

"Is it?  I think you're getting tired of me."

"What?  That can never happen."

"I noticed Pridans fucking each other just now."

"That's only because we can't wait.  When one fucks, all must."

She smiled.  "Actually I like that."  She looked around.  "Where is 
everyone?"

"Eating fruchup.  It is that time again.  Come on."

As she rose to her feet, a gush of liquid wet both thighs.  "God," she 
cried in near disgust, "do I ever need a bath!"

"You never said what is bath."


* * *


After the supper the crowd ambled toward the night tree as full darkness
settled upon the woods.  Crossing the clearing, Lola again studied the 
arch and the strange star patterns.  Tonight she noticed another 
anomaly.

"Korn, what is that glow over there?"  She pointed in the northeast 
direction -- assuming the sun rose in the east here.

"That is the palace."

"The what?  Did you say, 'Palace?'"

"Yes, the palace."

"Whose palace?"

"The Crogans', I guess."

"Stard's?  Stard doesn't live in a palace; he lives in a cave."

"As you said, Stard is a fizzle."

She giggled.  "In every respect."

"Except his big cock."

"Yes, except for that.  Will you take me to the palace?"

"I think you will go there soon."


* * *


After their fruchup breakfast the dwarves were ready to fuck.  
Apparently they preferred her to kneel on all fours.  In that posture 
she could service three of the small bodies with disproportionately big
cocks at once, except that holding her head back for the one standing 
before her made her neck sore.

On the second or third she clasped the bottom half of the shaft in her 
mouth, pushed it out and while pressing downward, said, "Lie down on 
your back, please."

Its owner did so please, spreading his legs wide to avoid impacting the
head between her swinging boobs whose cock was in her pussy.  She made 
one pass at the newly upthrust organ and cried with relief, "Now I can 
really suck cock!"  It was her last coherent statement for many minutes.

When full awareness returned, she lay on her belly in the grass with 
middle and upper body drooling vanilla cream.  She rolled over, smacking
her lips, and grinned happily at the ever present Korn.

"Oh, I do love fucking you little guys!"

"You may have noticed," he said with a smile: "we feel the same for 
you."

"And you little guys have the best tasting come in the world!"

He shrugged.  "All tastes the same."

"Maybe in this world.  That's a big difference.  It's obvious here you 
were meant to fuck everybody -- suck, anyway."

He regarded her thoughtfully.  "The new taste is even better."

"New taste?"

"Licking out of your special fuck hole what we leave in there."

"Do you think so?  Wish I could do it."

"Next time I'll wait, put it in you then let you taste."

"Oh, goody!"  She looked around.  "Where is everybody?"

"Gone to meet Jorg."

Her interest perked up.  "Somebody new?"

"New to you.  Jorg is a _good_ Crogan."

Suddenly Lola was on her feet, hands running over her body.  "God, I'm 
such a mess!"

Korn looked baffled.  "What's wrong?"

Hands went to her semen-streaked hair.  "Oh, god!" she wailed.  "Quick,
Korn, where can I clean up?"

"Clean up?"  He looked her up and down.  "Do you want to remove our 
traces?  Lola, don't you know how we -- and the Crogans for that matter
-- see anyone covered in jizz?  Surely you can understand what it 
means!"

"Uh ..."  Her eyes narrowed.

"When we see someone marked like that, everyone who has not fucked him 
will immediately want to.  Her," he corrected.

"You think so?"  Her frown vanished and she threw out her chest.

"Oh, yes.  And here they are."

The patter of feet announced the arrival of several dwarves.  Among them
was a manlike figure more than twice their size in all dimensions.  He 
was everywhere hairless but unlike Stard, muscular instead of fat, 
handsome-featured instead of idiotic and green instead of pink.  Like 
Stard, the eyes were intelligent and the flaccid cock equivalent aside 
from its color.

The newcomer regarded her with intense interest.

Korn said, "Jorg, this is Lola."

"Pleased to meet you," she said with an open-mouthed smile, wondering if
this cock would reach the dimensions of Stard's.

"Lola," he acknowledged.  His eyes had widened.  "What kind of creature
are you?"

"We told you," clamored the dwarves.  "She is a woman."

"She has the best fuck hole," exclaimed Varg.

"She beats Sid," declared Murr.

Now Jorg smiled at her.  "It is easy to see they love you."

The smile induced a tingle.  She widened hers and said, "I try to be 
lovable."

"I think you just might be too."  His cock thickened and twitched 
upward.

"She is, she is!" the dwarves averred.

He added, "Will you come with me to the palace, Lola?  My brothers want
to meet you."

She thought of asking Korn if it was safe, but the cock rising before 
her was irresistible, even if green.  "I'd love to," was her breathy 
answer, along with a step toward him.

Immediately he turned away into the woods, verifying over his shoulder 
that she was following.  She must take full strides to keep up with him,
which was different.  To her surprise the dwarves did not run after 
them.  She looked back before too many trees intervened.  They stood 
watching.  Korn waved.

She drew as near abreast the Crogan as the trees allowed.  "Tell me 
about the palace, Jorg.  Is it the source of the glow we see in one spot
over the trees at night?"

"Probably.  It is well lit at night.  That is the name: Palace of 
Light."

"Whose palace is it?"

"Whose?  I do not understand."

"Don't you have the idea of ownership?"

"I do not, at any rate.  What is ownership?"

"Well, who uses it?"

"My brothers and I.  Sometimes the Pridan visit.  They are not fond of 
our food and we have no fruchup trees."

"Did your brothers build it?"

"Oh, no!  At least I do not think so.  It has always been there."

They entered a small clearing containing a large flat boulder that 
looked familiar to Lola.  Jorg leapt on top of it easily.

"The palace will not go away," he said, looking down at her over a 
Stard-sized cock jutting toward her at eye level.  "Let us rest a 
while."

She pressed a palm on the flat surface.  "I can see what you mean by 
'rest.'  I've been on this rock before.  It's too hard for that."

He squatted, caught her under the arms, lifted her effortlessly to a 
stand on the rock then slumped to lie on his back, cock standing up 
straight.  He opened his hands.  "I shall do the lying."

"Oh, Jorg," she breathed, "you sweetheart!"

Without further delay she settled upon him and introduced the bulbous 
head, foreskin already partly withdrawn, between her nether lips.  Wet 
as she was from recent experience and anticipation, she must still work
buttocks side to side for full admittance.  The thrills were immediate.

"Oh, god, Jorg, this is so fine!"

His eyes were enlarged.  "Yes, good!  The Pridan are right."  His hands
came up and squeezed both breasts.  "About these too."

"What did they say about my boobs?"

"You mean these?  They called them, 'Tits.'  They said squeezing them 
makes cocks harder.  It does."

His hands moved to her shoulders and pulled her face down to his but 
instead of kissing he licked her cheeks and chin.

Surprised, she asked, "You like Pridan jizz?"

"All jizz is good, especially when it is crusty."

She giggled.  "I'll have to find some like that.  Kiss me."

Her first climax with a green Crogan occurred with his tongue in her 
mouth, his cock deep in her pussy and a wandering finger probing her ass
hole.


* * *


After Jorg had filled her cavity he did not linger upon the rock.  They
entered upon the unmarked path through the woods whose tree arrangement
she recalled from her previous exploration.  When they had rounded the 
huge boulder that had fallen from the cliff and rolled through the 
woods, however, she stopped short.

"What the hell?"

Jorg look from her back to the boulder-cut groove.  "Did you never see 
it before?"

"Yeah, I've seen it before, but I never saw _that_!  Who cleaned it up?"

"Cleaned ..." began Jorg, puzzled.

"It just fell here yesterday ... or maybe the day before, and it made a
real mess in the woods.  Where are all the broken trees and the 
splinters?"

Indeed the groove of dark soil remained, but the tree line beside it all
the way to the distant cliff was even and undisturbed as if the trees 
had grown to leave an open path for the boulder.  Even stumps were no 
longer visible.

She looked at Jorg, who shrugged.

"It looked just like this when I came along earlier."

"But who cleaned it up?  You and your brothers?  God, you must have a 
lot of brothers!"

He shook his head.  "We heard the rock fall yesterday but did not go 
see.  This is close to the Pridans.  Did you come to see it?"

"I sure did and I tell you, it smashed down trees all the way to the 
cliff."

He shrugged again.  "It is a mystery."  He smiled at her.  "But it makes
us a good path to where we are going."

They made fast time walking in the boulder's groove.  Tilted slightly 
downhill from the cliff, its bottom had been smoothed by the nightly 
rain.

"This will become a small creek," was Jorg's opinion.

"You live indoors at the palace, don't you?" said Lola, making 
conversation.  "What's life like?"

"You will see."

"Do your brothers look like you?"

"You will see."

"Is it a big place?"

"You will --" he began.

But she interrupted dryly, "I know: I'll see."  Thereafter she was 
silent until they came to the cliff.


* * *

After reaching the cliff they turned the opposite way from Stard's cave.
Here again Lola was surprised to find a discernible path.

"Jorg," Lola asked, "whose feet made this path?"

"I do not know, Lola.  We seldom come here.  Maybe the Pridans.  
Sometimes they come to the palace.  The path has always been here."

Shortly they reached the end of the cliff, after which the hill soon 
lost its height.  The path continued, now through the woods, finally 
debouching into an open, grassy plain.  In the near distance sat a 
two-story stone castle with a stone wall around it.  They approached a 
large, doorless opening whose stones were neatly edged and unbroken.  
Lola held back, not quite comfortable about entering the strange 
dwelling, although Jorg showed no apprehension.

As they walked through the opening Lola noted the lack of gate, 
drawbridge or visible means of defending this breach in the wall from an
attack.  Was it possible war was no longer practiced in this 
civilization?  She was reassured at the suggestion that this castle had
no military significance, unlike the many she had studied in Europe.  
While the dwarves and ogres might not always get along well, maybe they 
somehow managed to co-exist with only limited hostilities.  She recalled 
the old anti-war slogan, "make love, not war," but then dismissed it for 
this place.  She had yet to see anything here like "love" -- lust yes, 
lots of sex yes, but nothing that made her think of tender and romantic 
love.  She chuckled.  How about "fucking, not fighting" as a slogan?  
Maybe a bit coarse, but she could live with it.  It was certainly 
superior to her back home experience of having a college classmate come 
home in a body bag. 

Lola noticed that the courtyard inside the wall was neat and orderly but
seemed deserted.  Jorg led her to the entrance of the stone building and
opened the door into a moderately sized entrance hall with half a dozen
chairs and a table.  Immediately three other green Crogans rose from the
chairs.  They were all nude and hairless and could easily be the 
brothers Jorg claimed.

"Well, Jorg," said the closer one as they approached, "so you found the
strange creature!  Is it fun to fuck?"  He studied her with eyes alight.

Jorg said, "Definitely, and if you treat her nicely you may get the 
chance.   She even has a special hole only for fucking.  And I think 
Stard was right: trying to shove your cock into her as soon as you meet
is not a good idea.  Trust me, be polite and maybe we will all enjoy 
playing with her."

"What is this 'she' and 'her?'"

"Her name is Lola.  You refer to her with 'she' and 'her' instead of 
'he' or 'it.'  She says those are the words her creatures use for ones 
like her back at home.  But for now I promised to show her the palace."

Lola was amused at this exchange that seemed to assume she could not 
understand them.  She smiled, waved pleasantly and said, "Jorg said you
are his brothers.  I am glad to meet you.  Please tell me your names."

Jorg performed the announcement.  They were Calg, Sarg, and Targo.

"Lola," they acknowledged in unison and unlike the dwarves, managed to 
smile.

Jorg said, "I am hungry, so let us eat first and then I will take you on
a tour of the palace.  Is that good with everyone?"

After a general murmur of agreement the group departed down a hall to a
dining room containing long wooden tables with benches.

Lola commented, "This room is large enough to seat a hundred people, but
I see only four of you.  Do you have a lot more Crogans in the woods?"

Jorg answered, "The fathers told me that once we were many, more than 
could sit here.  Most have died and only a few new Crogans are made.  
We have maybe 20 or 30 brothers in the woods.  Many do not care 
to live here in the castle, so we see them only when we travel."

"They will come now," said Targo.  The other two nodded.

"To see me?" asked Lola with a wide smile.

"Yes."

"I guess the word circulates," she said conversationally, "even through
the woods."

"They will know," said Targo with odd certainty.

After all were seated at one of the tables, Calg went to a counter by the
wall, removed a stack of five bowls and took them to a row of cubbyholes
in an interior wall of the dining room.  When he placed a bowl in a 
cubbyhole, the bowl immediately filled with brown mush.  Sarg and Jorg 
helped him fetch the filled bowls to the table.

Lola eyed the bowl placed before her.  "Is this fruchup?  It looks 
thinner."

"No!" declared all four Crogans in unison, startling Lola.

"It is called 'beljer,'" said Jorg more kindly.  "Try it.  We think you
will enjoy it.  But first ..."  He went again to the counter and 
returned, distributing a handful of spoons.   "We call this a spoon and
use it for eating."

Lola smiled.  "Yes, we also call it a spoon and use it for eating."

She raised a spoonful to her mouth, sipped delicately, considered the 
result and popped the spoonful past her lips.

"Not too bad?" suggested Jorg.

"Are you kidding?  This stuff is wonderful.  Who cooked it, or mixed it
or whatever?"

"We knew you would like it," said Jorg smugly without answering her 
question.

When she had scraped out the last drop, she rose and examined one of the
cubbyholes.  "So, where does the beljer come from?  How is it made?"  

Calg said, "You saw me earlier.  The beljer comes from those cubbyholes
in the wall."

Jorg smiled indulgently.  "Lola really wants to know how does the beljer
get into the cubbyholes.  We do not know.  All we know is that when you
are hungry, place a bowl in there and you will get fed."

"But ... but somebody has to make it!"

They only shrugged.

Once the meal was complete, Jorg led the group back into the entrance 
hall and up a grand staircase toward the second floor.  The stairway was
covered in an attractive rug, woven with a repeating flower motif.  She
asked, "Did your people make this fancy rug?"

Jorg answered, "We do not know who made it.  As long as we can remember
it has always been here."

"Many years?  How many?"

"What is a year?"

A door opened upon a long hallway lined with marble statues.  The first
few were busts without name tags.

She paused to study them.  "Jorg, who are -- were -- these people?"

"Who knows?"  He shrugged.  "We do not."

"Well, who made them?  You don't know that either, do you?"

"No, Lola.  We seldom come up here."

Farther along they came upon a large statue that gave her pause.  "This
looks like a copy of Aphrodite."

"Of what?" asked Jorg.

"A Greek goddess.  Our people were making statues like this many, many 
years -- a very long time ago.  Do you recognize it as a woman?"

Jorg nodded yes but simultaneously the others shook their heads.

Calg grinned at the discrepancy.  "Jorg is more curious than most of us
and knows many strange things.  Until we met you today, we had no reason
to think about what is a woman.  Please tell us, how should we know you
from this statue?"

Lola responded, pointing to the statue, "See these big lumps on her 
chest?  Those are her tits or boobs, same as mine."  She lifted her 
breasts to emphasize the point.  "Also look here between her legs.  No 
cock, right?  But see the narrow slit?  Same as mine."

She pointed to her slit then pulled the lips apart, flashing the crimson
interior at her male companions.  Licking an index finger, she inserted
it into the gap.  "That slit on the statue means she is a woman and has
this special fuck hole, right here."

"Oh!" exclaimed Jorg.  "Now I understand.  This bumpy area over the slit
is supposed to be hair, like the hair over yours."

"Very good!"  She grinned and studied her four companions.  "The Pridans
have a few wisps of hair on their heads but I believe you Crogans are 
bald all over."

"What good is hair anyway?" asked Calg.

"Well, under the arms and between the legs it keeps skin from rubbing 
together.  Also it retains odors."

Without warning Sarg and Targo each thrust a hand into one of her 
armpits.  She stepped back but understood their curiosity.

Sarg frowned.  "You have no hair here -- or do you?"

"I shaved it there.  It is growing back."

"What odors?" asked Calg, sniffing his own armpit.

"She has strong ones," attested Jorg, "between her legs.  One whiff and
my poker rose."

"Yes, I do," admitted Lola.  "Women do.  After our tour we can all study
my pussy in greater detail, if you wish."

She smiled in appreciation as four nine inch cocks rose to salute her, 
evincing an obvious interest in exploring her unfamiliar charms.

She giggled.

"Is a pussy funny?" asked Calg.

"Not exactly.  I'm wondering if a girl can have too much of a good 
thing.  Mine is starting to tingle.  I think it anticipates a day of 
fun."

The next statue embodied a full-sized discus thrower, a strong, muscular
and completely naked young man with legs crossed, prepared to whirl the
discus away.

Jorg said wonderingly, "I have never understood what this means."

Lola explained the game.  "Several different men would throw this 
object, the discus, while those who watch cheer them on and see who can
throw it the farthest.  What games do the Crogans play?"

Jorg frowned for a moment and finally said, "We like to watch each other
fuck.  Is not that more interesting than watching someone throw this, 
uh, discus?"

Lola laughed.  "Yes, you're right, certainly to me.  Sex as a spectator
sport!"  Her laugh strengthened.  "I'm thinking of the last Olympics.  
Maybe I'd've preferred watching muff diving instead of platform diving.
Huh!  How would judges go about scoring a pussy eating contest?  That 
might make for an interesting conversation with friends at a bar 
someday!  Unfortunately our society at home is not ready to publicly 
broadcast such an event.  Maybe someday.  One can always hope for human
progress."

The blank expressions of her listeners sobered her.  "Sorry, guys."

Farther down the hallway the group came to a statue of two satyrs.  Jorg
said, "We did not understand the game you described at that last statue,
but we do for these two: they want to fuck!"

Lola chuckled.  "Oh yes, they are always ready to fuck.  But notice that
these creatures are men in the upper body, like you even with erect 
cocks, but in the bottom half the legs are from a goat."

"Heads like us," said Targo, "except for the tall ears and hair on their
faces."

Jorg frowned.  "Goat?  What is a goat?"

"See all of the fur on the legs?"

"What is fur?"  

"Like my hair."  She patted her pubes.  "These legs are covered with 
thick hair.  That's what this rough texture represents.  Also look at 
the feet.  No toes; the bottom of the foot is flat.  We call that a 
hoof, like on a goat or a horse.  Do you have horses or cows?  They also
have hooves."

Jorg shook his head.  "No, we do not know horse, goat or cow."

"Do your woods have creatures other than yourselves and the Pridans?"

Jorg said, "You have seen us, also pale Crogans like Stard, but nothing
else is here besides us Crogans and Pridans." 

"Okay.  I see, I guess.  Well, what is in the next room beyond that 
door?"

"That is the seeing room."

Her eyes brightened.  "What do you see?"

They entered a room with one large and curious piece of furniture: a 
stepped wooden table that ran down the middle.  Without windows, it had
to be an interior room, but it was well lit.  Moving into the room and 
regarding the long table from the side, she understood that it was a 
table with a bench attached on either side and a black partition in the
middle about two feet high that prevented those on one side from seeing
anyone on the other.  Benches and partition both ran the length of the 
table.

She could see no light fixture anywhere on ceiling, walls or table but 
everything was brightly lit.  "Jorg, where does all the light come --
Oh, wow!  Never mind!"

Her attention had fixed upon the large paintings on all the walls.  

Lola and the group slowly proceeded around the room, studying the 
pictures.  The first scene was a large group of people in a formal 
European garden.  Four ladies with parasols were shown walking down a 
path ahead of several men.

Lola said to herself as much as the others, "The dresses on these women
look like European fashions from maybe the 1700s, maybe about 200 to 300
years ago.  Notice how the dresses are cut very low at the breasts.  It
should be easy for you to tell that these are women."

Jorg and the other Crogans nodded affirmatively.

Lola moved to another scene of a mother and a father with two children 
and a large dog in the garden.  Lola pointed and said, "This one here is
a man, which means he has a cock like you."

Briefly she touched Jorg's cock.  "And this one is the woman, with a 
pussy like me."  She pointed to her genitals.  "Most likely these short
people are children that this man and this woman made."

Sarg asked, "You can make people?  I don't understand.  New Crogans come
from special closets here in the palace."

"Yes, we can, and that is why at home we need women.  One reason we fuck
is to make babies.  The woman's belly swells up as the baby grows inside
her and then after nine months it pops out of her pussy."

She used hand gestures to show a swollen belly then spread her legs and
indicated a baby exiting from her vagina.

Jorg said doubtfully, "That is hard to believe.  I have been inside your
special fuck hole, and it is marvelously tight.  Are your young babies 
very small?"  he holds up both hands, indicating a distance of about 6 
inches.  

"I've never made a baby, but I've seen them.   At birth they are about 
this big."  She held her hands about a 15 inches apart.   "My pussy will
stretch a lot when the time comes but gets tight again afterwards so 
that a guy like you will continue to enjoy fucking me."

All of the Crogans looked skeptical.  Lola smiled sympathetically.  "I 
see you have a hard time believing it.  When I was little, I also didn't
believe how we make babies.  That's okay.  Maybe someday we'll have a 
woman here like me who makes a baby so you can see.  It's not going to 
happen now though."

Lola decided not to explain her contraceptive protection, as clearly she
would exceed their abilities to understand human biology.

They continued around the room, studying scenes of well-dressed men and
women, sometimes with children, sometimes without.  She pointed out a 
scene with several men on horses, and said, "You don't have horses like
this, right?"

Calg responded, "No, we have never seen anything so large.  Why are 
these people sitting on what you call horses?"

"Horses move a lot faster than us.  They're also stronger so they can 
carry a person for a long time.  We could quickly go to visit the 
Pridans if we were to ride horses."

Sarg noted, "Interesting.  I see that these horses would be useful.  
Jorg, did our fathers say anything to you about horses in the old days?"

"They mentioned riding on the backs of large creatures but did not 
remember their names.  One father put me on the back of a brother, but 
when he crawled on all fours, he went slowly, so riding on a back seemed
silly to me.  I think I should have asked more questions about this 
picture." 

Calg said to Lola, "Jorg would spend more time in this room than the 
rest of us, looking at these pictures.  The fathers would bring him up 
here and explain them.  The rest of us were not so interested." 

Another picture portrayed people standing before rows of trees in what 
appeared to be orchards.  She pointed to the apples and said, "See these
red things hanging from the trees?  They're called apples and are good 
to eat.  Do you ever take things from the trees and eat them?"

Jorg said, "The Pridans have their fruchup tree and melon tree, but we 
do not.  You know our food is good, but maybe you can help us try other
kinds if you see the right tree."

"Yes, that is a good idea.  Do you know anything about who painted these
pictures on the walls?"

"I recall the fathers saying that like the palace, these pictures have 
always been here.  But you are right: someone must have hung them there,
strangers of long ago.  But no strangers, what you call men or women, 
have come here for a very long time.

"Lola, we hope you stay for a while.  Maybe you can explain more things
to us, such as the food trees you mentioned earlier."

"Whatever I can.  But first explain something for me.  You said this is
the 'seeing room.'  Did you mean the pictures on the wall?"

"Them.  And this."  Jorg sat on a table bench and laid his palm on the 
table before him.

Immediately a section of the partition lit up before him.  It depicted a
tan bridge across a blue river.  The viewpoint rose into the air, now 
looking down upon the surface of the bridge.  Two rows of people in 
fancy court dress were dancing on it, weaving in and out among each 
other.  Music poured from somewhere.  A choir was singing,

_Sur le pont d'Avignon

On y danse, on y danse

Sur le pont d'Avignon

On y danse tout en rond.

_"That's French!" cried Lola.  "I know that song."

"We only know that it is pretty," said Jorg, lifting his hand.  Picture
and music vanished as if they had never been.  "What does it mean."

"It's about men and women dancing on a bridge in France."

"Where is that?"

"It's another country, based on how they're dressed, from before my 
time."  She shook her head.  "How can this _not_ be Earth?"

"Outside is earth."

"Speaking of outside, right now I need to take a shit.  Can you show me
where to do that?"

Sarg said in a tone of discovery, "So shit comes from your asshole, just
like ours, as we speculated?"

She giggled.  "I wondered if it ever came from yours!"

"Let's show her the outhouse.  Follow me."

Sarg led the whole group downstairs out the door to a small structure 
behind the main building.  Indeed it was clearly a large outhouse, with
ten doors on one side and another ten on the back.  In each compartment
was the expected seat cut out in an oval, along with a basin of water --
under a faucet, Lola noted with approval -- and a very familiar hanging
role of toilet paper.  While cleaning herself afterward, she smiled and
mused, "That seeing room and the food inside this place seem magical and
advanced, while the restroom facilities have to be outside.  Why don't 
they have indoor plumbing?  Interesting trade-off."

After everyone exited the toilets, Lola spotted a door at the back of 
the main building.  "What's in there?"

Jorg said, "Some rooms we never use with odd things we do not 
understand.  But let us go in and see if anything interests you."

He opened the door to a large workroom.  Wandering around, Lola found an
empty wooden vat and a mechanical press with empty bottles and corks on
a shelf.  One of the bottles contained maybe a quarter liter of liquid.
Opening it, she sniffed and poured a small amount into her palm.  She 
stuck a finger into the pool of liquid and carefully tasted it.

She said, "I think this liquid is olive oil, old and a bit rancid, but 
it doesn't smell bad."  Sliding her index finger and thumb together, she
added, "Here, rub your fingers on this and see how slippery it is.  We 
call it oil, and I think we might find a use for it." 

Each in turn tested the oil, sniffing and tasting, and rubbed some 
between his fingers.  Jorg said, "Yes, very slippery, like stepping on a
wet stone in a creek.  Do you drink this liquid?"

Lola said, "We would need to make some fresh.  This olive oil is too old
to drink.  But with fresh oil, we could add a bit to the beljer you eat
and maybe improve the flavor."

Targo scoffed.  "How could beljer be better!"

"Maybe it can't, but I know something that could."

She pointed.  "That is a press for squeezing the liquid from the fruit.
We can collect the liquid in that vat.  And here; this is a basket for 
carrying the fruit from the trees.  The fruit is small, about the size 
of the end of my thumb, and green at first, but then it turns black when
it is ready to fall from the trees.  Do you recall seeing such trees in
the woods?"

Jorg nodded.  "Yes, I think I know of a few like you describe.  We can 
go see them tomorrow."

Lola pointed to some long sticks on a rack and said, "We should take 
those sticks to knock down the fruit, those cloths over there for 
collecting it when it lands on the ground, and this basket for bringing
the olives back here.  Then we can make some olive oil.  Learning how 
with all of you should be fun."

The Crogans nodded.   Jorg said, "Yes, we can do that tomorrow."  His 
gaze changed.  It could only be described as a leer.  "Now let us go to
our sporting room."

The other three matched Jorg's expression.

Lola said, "Yes, let's go.  I'm going to take this oil bottle with me."

"But if that oil is old, what will you do with it?"

She flashed a seductive smile.  "Oh, I don't know.  Maybe we can find 
some use for it.  Let's go now!"

The whole group followed Jorg to a large room that resembled a barracks,
with exactly four mattress pads on the floor.  She pressed down on one.
It seemed soft and fairly springy.  "Did you fellows make these 
mattresses?"

"No," replied Jorg.  "They have --"

"I know," she interrupted.  "They have always been here.  But there's 
only four!"

"You will get one tomorrow."

"But I mean ...  If they've always been here, why not more than four?  
When one of you ... goes away, does his mattress pad go too?"

"Yes.  Obviously it is no longer needed."

She shook her head, looked away and muttered, "I don't want to pursue 
this question."

She lay back after dropping to the center of a mattress.  "Comfortable."
Her gaze swept around their midsections and she giggled.  "I never 
appreciated naked men before.  A girl can sure tell what's on their 
minds!"

Spreading her legs in a lascivious manner parted her pussy lips.  She 
added to the separation with her forefingers.  "Earlier today you all 
expressed an interest in a woman's special fuck hole.  Jorg and I have 
already fucked, but my body is new to the rest of you.  Sarg, how about
you getting here on the mattress with me first.  Don't worry.  You'll 
all get the chance to play.  Also do I need to point out that I can have
a cock in my mouth and another in my pussy at the same time?"

Jorg shook his head.  "We only fuck one-on-one.  We do not do groups of
three or four together like the Pridans.  We all want to fuck you, but 
separately."

Sarg crawled onto the mattress, getting between her spread legs.

She suggested to Sarg, "Bring your head down here close to my pussy, so
you get a really good look.  These are the lips.  They're very sensitive
and like to be massaged during sex.  Also this bud here at the top is my
clit, also very sensitive.  Down here is the fuck hole, where your cock
goes.

"I presume you like to suck each other's cocks, same as the Pridans.  
You can do a similar thing with me, make me come by using your tongue on
my pussy.  Sarg, how about starting by --"

He interrupted.  "But Lola, if I make you come with my mouth, won't you
be done for the day?  I know once I am sucked off, I am done for the day
and can only watch what my friends are doing.  Then I can no longer get
my cock up."

"No, Sarg.  My first come just gets me warmed up.  Women are different.
We are slower to warm up and get started, but once we get going, we can
fuck and suck for many climaxes.  Here, lean in, start licking up and 
down the outside of the lips and also between them.  Yes, good.  Now 
gently lick my clit here.  Um, yeah, you learn fast.  Now stick your 
tongue into my fuck hole and move it in and out.  Stick it in as far as
you can.  Oh yes, you have a good long tongue!  God, you are learning 
fast!"

Soon Lola was breathing heavier and thrusting her hips up and down in 
time with Sarg's tongue work.  His hands held her hips tightly as he 
shoved his face into her pussy.

Suddenly she stiffened, squeezed his head between her thighs, and 
shrieked, adding after several repeats, "Oh god, that was really good!
Let me rest for a moment.

"Okay, guys, you just saw me come.  That should be a first for all of 
you."

Sarg's head rose to display a big smile.  His mouth, chin, and cheeks 
were soaked with pussy juice.  "That was fun!  I can't believe how wet 
you are!"  He got up from the bed.

Calg, who had watched while slowly stroking himself, said, "Well Sarg, 
you do look like you enjoyed that.  You too, Lola.  Your coming was 
great.  I sure hope you are right when you said you can do more 
fucking."

"Oh, yes!"  Lola's eyes were bright.  "I am definitely ready for more 
fucking."  

Looking at Targo, she pointed a finger at her pussy.  "Okay, big guy, 
you know where that long cock of yours goes now, don't you?"

Targo got onto the bed, moved forward on his knees and positioned his 
stiff stander at the soaking entrance, but Lola grabbed it, moved it up
and down just inside the lips and said, "I'm rubbing some juice onto the
head so it slides in easier.  Now push!"

Indeed the organ entered effortlessly.  He began pumping in and out.

She declared, "God, I am filled up!  Targo, I think your cock is the 
biggest that's ever been in me."

Jorg said stiffly, "Mine is just as big as his!"

She giggled.  "Is it?  They say the one you've got in there is the best.
Maybe it's also the biggest."

He looked puzzled and shook his head.  "Targo and I are average for 
Crogans, nothing special.  Are the cocks at your home smaller than 
ours?"

Although moving her hips in counterpoint to Targo's strokes, she was 
able to answer.  "Now and then a woman will find a cock as big as one of
yours, but normally our men's cocks are more like those of the Pridans."
Oddly she terminated her speech with a loud moan.

Jorg wanted to ask a few more questions about these small-cocked men of
Lola's home but forbore to avoid distracting her from her concentration.
She was moaning rhythmically, a loud cry in time with each stroke of 
Targo's magnificent shaft.  Fairly soon, accompanied by noisy outbursts,
both reached their climaxes.

Targo got up and wiped off the excess juices about to drip from his 
cock.

Calg asked, "So how does fucking a pussy compare to one of our ass 
holes?"

Targo said, "It was good, but I can't say really better than an asshole;
just different.  I will certainly take either, whatever is available.  
But eating her pussy, wow!  That looked like lots of fun!  I need to try
that sometime!"

Lola smiled at him.  "Yes, maybe tomorrow you get a pussy eating 
lesson."  Rolling over onto her front, she thrust her ass into the air 
and said over her shoulder, "Speaking of assholes, would the next fellow
like to try mine?  I haven't had anything in there for a while."

With her hands she pulled her cheeks apart, flashing a cute little brown
star at the Crogans.

Calg said, "I want to try your round butt, but promise me I get to fuck
your pussy tomorrow like Targo just did.  I do not want to miss feeling
a pussy.  Yours is the first we have ever seen!"

"No problem.  You can certainly do my pussy tomorrow.  Now bring me that
olive oil bottle."

Calg returned to the bed with the bottle and a puzzled look on his face.
"Did you not say this oil is for eating?"

Lola took the bottle and poured some oil on her hand.  "Yes, that's one
use for it, but I'll show you another."

She grabbed his cock and covered it with oil.  "This will make your cock
slide right into my ass.  Now you take the bottle, use your fingers, and
work some oil into my hole.  I'm dry back there, so fucking will be a 
lot more fun if you get me really wet with the oil."

Calg obeyed but commented, "We use spit to get a butt hole ready.  We 
will see if your oil is better."

After fingering her butt hole for a bit, Calg lined up his cock and 
pushed it, slowly and gently, into the woman.

She noted, "Wow!  That was sweet and easy!"

He began a slow rocking motion, withdrawing until only the head remained
inside, then gently pushing until his balls touched her pussy lips.  He
said over his shoulder to the other Crogans, "This oil is better than 
spit.  We have to teach all our brothers about using it."

Jorg said, "We had better keep this bottle to ourselves until we see if
Lola can make more tomorrow."

Lola demurred, "Oh, I'm sure I can if we find the right trees.  But 
let's worry about that tomorrow.  Calg, reach around to my pussy and 
play with my clit.  That makes me come easier." 

Calg obeyed up to a point, before muttering, "I don't know what to do."

Sarg spoke up.  "She just gave me a full lesson in that sweet pussy.  
Let me help!"

He crawled onto the bed, close under Lola's belly where he could see her
genitals, took Calg's hand and gently moved the index finger up and down
between the lips.  Reaching the clit, he said, "Feel that?  This is 
where she is really sensitive.  Play with it gently as you fuck her."

Calg did as he was told.

Lola moaned, adding, "Yes, that's right.  Keep playing with it!"

Soon she had another screaming orgasm.  Shortly afterwards Calg came 
also.  After withdrawing, he moved to a basin of water and washed his 
stained cock.  Jorg produced a roll of toilet paper and gave Lola a 
large handful to absorb the juice starting to drip from her gaping 
rectum.

Targo asked, "Is your asshole okay?  Does it hurt?"

The orifice in question opened and closed as she worked the sphincter.
"Maybe it's a bit tender from such a big cock, but no, it does 
_anything_ but hurt!"  She smiled at him.

He continued, "Often after a really good fucking we end up bleeding and
cannot fuck there again for days.  Will your oil help us avoid that 
problem?"

"I certainly hope so!  And let me show you something else we can do with
this oil.  Jorg, is it your turn?  Hand me the oil bottle and come 
here!"

Now on her back, Lola took the oil and poured some between her breasts.
"Jorg, sit on my stomach and place your cock right here, between my 
tits.  Hey!  What's wrong with it?"

The green cock, about half its former length, had flopped crookedly onto
her chest.  Jorg said, "Sorry, Lola.  It has already fucked you once 
today."

"What?  You're kidding!  That was hours ago!  Come a little higher."

Raising her head slightly, she slurped the disappointing organ into her
mouth and worked it vigorously with her tongue.

After a minute's effort Jorg said again, "Sorry, Lola.  It is no use, 
but I can do it again tomorrow."

She released the flabby meat with obvious reluctance, shook her head and
looked up at him.  "Has to be a first time for everything, I guess."

"A first time?"

"The first time ever that sucking didn't work.  _I'm_ sorry, Jorg.  You
poor guys!"  She sighed and looked around.  "I hate to quit" -- she 
grinned -- "especially when I'm so far ahead.  Sarg, your cock is still
standing!"

"I only licked you, Lola."

"That's right!  Jorg, we'll have some more fun tomorrow.  I sure enjoy 
playing with all of these big cocks!"

Taking Sarg's hand, she said, "You've been waiting patiently.  Now it's
your turn.  Where would you like to fuck: pussy, ass, tits or mouth?"  
Giggling, she explained, "I like to give my new friends lots of 
choices!"  

"I want to try what I never have: your pussy.  But a titty fuck looks 
interesting."

"We can do that tomorrow.  Now come here and lie on your back beside 
me."

When he had obeyed, she continued, "We are going to do it differently 
this time -- with me on top."

Facing him, she crawled over Sarg's mid-section, caught his erect cock,
rubbed it a bit on her still moist pussy lips and slowly impaled 
herself.

"Wow!" she cried.  "Crogan cocks sure fill up a girl!  I'm amazed I can
take all of one."

Sarg looked puzzled.  "What is a girl?  We do not know that word."

Slowly rising up and down on the cock, Lola moaned and said, "It's a 
word for a young woman.  You can call me either a girl or a woman, I 
don't care.  Now take your hands and play with my tits.  Yes, like that!
Squeeze the nipples.  Yes, ah, that feels good!  Now let's fuck!"

With Sarg fondling her tits and tweaking the nipples, she began an 
energetic up and down motion on the rigid nine inch cock.  After a while
she motioned for the other brothers to come closer.  Bending at the edge
of the bed, they obtained excellent views of Sarg's cock moving in and 
out of the soaking wet pussy.

"Look how the skin follows it back out," noted Targo.  "Never saw that 
with an asshole."

Jorg smiled.  "Like it does not want to let go."

"When I fucked you like that," Calg said to Targo, "I never thought to 
squeeze your --  Hey!  We don't have titties!"

Targo mused, "She said they are to attract men, whatever is men."

Lola's moaning and panting overrode their comments.  Eventually she came
again, at least the fifth big one today.  But she kept riding Sarg's 
cock, now sliding more forward and back than up and down, and squeezing
it with contractions of her sphincter until he came also, blasting shot
after shot into her pussy.  When his body relaxed, she leaned down and 
gave him a wet kiss.  "Oh, Sarg, you're a great ride!"

She looked around at the others, watching in fascination.  "This has 
been a fun day, guys.  Thanks!"  

When she rose up and released the wilting cock, a big load of liquid 
discharged from her pussy onto Sarg's pubic region.  She giggled.

All the Crogans laughed also.  She looked at them archly.  "You guys and
the Pridans all pop in pints, don't you?  I'm sure you've seen balls 
soaked in it before, so is it a sweaty woman that's so funny?"

Jorg explained, "You spitting more juice than us is what's funny."

Sitting on the side of the bed, she nodded.  "I suppose so, especially 
when it's you that filled me up."  Her expression settled into a 
distant stare.  "This doesn't make sense, you know."

"What does not?" wondered Calg.

"All this."  She gestured.  "And you.  And the world and the night sky.
What's going on here, Jorg?  Where _is_ this place?  Where did you and 
the Pridans come from?"

Jorg shrugged.  "Where else, Lola?  We've always been here."

"Someone must know," she said positively, "and I intend to find him."

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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