I Am Wo-Man


Roger M. Wilcox

Copyright © 1984, 2023 by Roger M. Wilcox. All rights reserved.

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4
chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8
chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11

— Chapter six —

(The one with the erotica in it)

The moment they were through Mark's front door, she threw the door shut behind them, then grabbed him and kissed him again passionately. The tips of their tongues played sensuous, insistent games with each other while she squeezed handfuls of his muscular lower back. She had to be careful not to squeeze too hard with her alien strength. He felt so sensuously . . . solid. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. She reached down and caressed his buttocks through his jeans.

He reciprocated, and his hands on her own butt sent tingles down her legs and up her back. His fingers inched downward ever-so-slightly, and cradled the bare lower halves of her cheeks sticking out past her armor. Mmmm. Yes. She reached up, found his beltline, and gently untucked his shirt; then she slid a hand up and underneath to lift his shirt off. This let her feel all the bare, taut flesh of his abdomen and chest while she lifted; though he did need to finish taking his shirt off himself when she'd gotten it up around his shoulders. His shirt now lying on the ground, his naked torso looked like chiseled marble, but with a subtle, lively softness to it. He pressed himself against her again, kissing and holding her, his hands searching but deftly avoiding the rocket pack protruding from her back. He seemed to be searching for a way to get her top off, too.

She wanted him to take her top off, but she knew his efforts wouldn't work. This alien armor wasn't like a real one-piece swimsuit; there were latches and seams and interlocks. She'd have to take it off herself. She unlatched her right forearm guard as she'd done before, and let it fall to the floor. Then she pressed the same release catch on her left forearm guard, and it too popped off. With some relief, she found that her upper arm guards, her calf guards, and even her thigh guards had release studs in roughly the same places, and one by one they all clattered to the floor in a pile. The metal shoes with the two-inch heels came off just like normal shoes would. Finally, tracing her right flank, she found a tall, thin cover flap with tiny studs on its underside, and pressed. A seam clicked open along the entire right side of her pliable torso armor, and the entire suit hinged open like a refrigerator door. She let it fall to the ground, rocket-pack first.

Impressive. She'd gotten all of her armor off inside of 12 seconds.

She stood before him completely naked. There had been nothing at all under her armor but her. She glanced down and glimpsed the tops of her breasts, and a nearly-invisible wisp of pubic hair down on her groin. The gash from Projector's beam was still visible on the right side of her belly, but only barely; at this rate there wouldn't even be a scar tomorrow. She half wished there'd been a mirror nearby, as this was the first time she'd actually been naked in this alien body; from this angle she couldn't tell whether she looked like a sensuous fashion model or a twisted alien monstrosity. But Mark didn't see her trepidation; he was too busy staring in obvious approval. He stepped forward, embraced her, and kissed her. She basked in the feel of his chest pressed against her bare breasts. He reached up, still holding her, and cupped her left breast in his hand, caressing it, running a finger around her nipple. She remembered Steve fondling Georgina's breasts like this in the past, and was both gratified and mesmerized by how good it felt to be on the receiving end. She gasped slightly as Mark bent down and brought his face toward her chest, then moaned softly when his lips touched her nipple. She ran her fingers through his hair while he gave gentle suction. She felt his tongue flit across the tip of her nipple, and more tingling shot through her.

As he continued kissing her nipple, his right hand caressed her thigh and moved gently upward. It reached her naked groin. She could only hope that everything was there. Having pubic hair didn't necessarily mean she actually had a va—

She felt his finger slip into something, and slide against a slick, intimate surface. Yes. Yes. She had a vagina, all right. As his finger moved forward between her labia, it stroked across a nub and suddenly everything felt ten times more intense. Her clitoris. It had to be. She gasped and moaned more loudly. He stroked it again, repeatedly, and every stroke turned her on that much more. Her groin was moving subtly back-and-forth of its own accord. She didn't want it to stop, even for a moment.

But stop it did. Mark stood all the way back up, put both hands on her bare waist, and gestured with his head while gently guiding her. He was indicating his open bedroom door. It was always open, and Steve had glimpsed his bed more than once before when he'd been over, but now it took on a much greater significance. She eagerly took Mark's lead, and was soon the one moving him into his own bedroom.

Though slivers of daylight still peeked through the blinds, Mark's bedroom was much more dimly lit than his living room. Dim enough, in fact, for her to see the room in its ghostly, colorless ultraviolet, overlaid atop the darker scene from her normal vision. Mark, too, she saw partially in the ultraviolet for the first time, but it didn't diminish her desires for him in the slightest. Before she sat him down on the bed, she grasped his own still-clothed groin and felt the bulge within. It was clearly yearning to be free. She unbuckled his belt, unfastened and unzipped his jeans, and pulled them down in one stroke along with his underwear. His erection sprang back upward as soon as his briefs were off. She wrapped her right hand around his penis, savoring its warmth and its firmness. The thought of his erection going . . . inside her . . . made her vagina tingle and lubricate even more. She thought briefly about kneeling down and taking his penis into her mouth, but she remembered what an incredible turn-on this was for Steve and she got . . . greedy. If she gave him fellatio, he might have an orgasm then and there, and then his erection might deflate and she wouldn't get to feel his penis where she really wanted it.

Mark stepped out from the pantlegs around his ankles, and before either of them knew what was happening, they were both on the bed together. She lay flat on her back, with her legs bent and slightly apart in anticipation. Mark kissed her mouth again, then kissed his way down her neck, down across her breasts, down her belly, down to the top of her groin, then switched farther down and started kissing his way up her inner thigh. Her jaw quivered with both anticipation and trepidation for the approaching unknown. His mouth reached her loins and kissed its way inward. She felt his lips on her labia, then his tongue licking its way up between her labia, and then —

His tongue ran upward all the way across her clitoris. She gasped. It felt amazingly good, all the more intense than his finger had been. He licked her clitoris again, and again, and each repeated motion pulled her further and further into the sensation. She grasped his head in both hands, stroking the hair or the back of his head, pulling him gently but firmly so he would press against her groin even more. She felt the small motions of his head in her hands as his tongue caressed her most intimate place, and felt her groin rise to meet —

She convulsed. She recognized it instantly. Orgasm. It was more intense than Steve's had ever been, and spread out more evenly across her whole body. She held his head there against her groin in that sweet, brief eternity, and let out a scream. Her voice sounded as though it belonged to someone else, a high-pitched siren that might lure a sailing ship onto the rocks. When the moment subsided, she expected to feel spent like Steve had always been after he climaxed; but she wasn't. Mark's tongue hadn't stopped moving, and neither had she. The ecstatic tension was quickly building back up again. This time, she let go of his head and gave herself completely to his mercy.

The surge came again, and she convulsed and screamed out her second orgasm. This time, when she came down from her climactic high after a few seconds, Mark stopped and sat up. She puzzled as to why he'd stop, but then saw him take a condom out from his nightstand, hastily tear off the wrapping, and start unrolling it over his penis. His good safe-sex habit had apparently become instinct over his college years. But, a condom . . . could she even get pregnant? Or contract an STD? Heck, could her alien body contract any disease? Was it even composed of cells that could —

Mark turned back to her, and her musings instantly vanished. All that mattered at this moment was him. He approached her from the foot of the bed, sliding his hands up the outsides of her bent legs, which seemed to part wider apart for him of their own volition. He crawled up on top of her, supporting his weight with one arm and holding onto his erect, latex-covered penis with two fingers of his other hand to help guide it. His face and chest loomed large in her view as his groin got closer to hers. She arched her loins slightly upward toward him, biting her lower lip and giving a barely-perceptible nod as though to say "Yes. Please." Then she felt the covered tip of his penis pressing and rubbing against her groin, zeroing in on her vagina, rubbing against the now-very-slick space between her labia, pressing to find its sensous target.

And presently, he found it. She felt him slide into her and start moving, first gently back-and-forth, then slowly with increasing depth. Every inch felt amazing. It wasn't just her own loins moving now, it was his, too, bespeaking of the same instincts in him that were making her own groin move. Her clitoris, too, felt the smooth massage of his gentle thrusts. Not as directly as it had when he'd licked her, but with an indirect, gentle intensity that slowly heated her back up again. When his penis slid all the way inside her, and she felt his groin pressed against hers, she felt this on her clitoris too. There were a million little pleasurable sensations coming from inside her vagina, too, while he moved within her.

The feeling built, slowly but inexorably. It must have taken a minute or two, but eventually, this gentle teasing on her clitoris combined with the feel of his penis inside her brought out the moans of heightened pleasure that heralded the approach of another orgasm. She saw his face above hers, saw his tongue reach gently out for her. With his next thrust, she covered his mouth with hers and let their tongues slide over each other again — and that was enough. She convulsed in orgasm again, kissing him hard as she did so. As the feeling subsided, she noted with relief that her superhuman strength hadn't hurt him in the process.

And then, he began moaning in rhythm with his thrusts. They grew in intensity. It started driving her back up toward another orgasm of her own — and then, he thrust hard and deep inside her and let out his own grunting, gutteral scream. His own orgasm. Inside that condom he was wearing, he was ejaculating. Inside her. Just the thought of it . . . She surged over the top again and convulsed in orgasm before he was completely finished; and she cried out, "Mark!"

The moment left her feeling lit up like a Christmas tree, all ajitter. His movements slowed, he kissed her and pressed himself against her as his sexual passions gave way to post-coital tenderness. His erection passed and he was no longer inside her. A pity. She could easily have gone on, riding the wave of ecstasy, had he continued to thrust inside her. But what they had shared had been enough for her. She let herself deflate and relax, reveling in the afterglow with this wonderful man.

"Wow," she said, echoing his sentiment from their first kiss. "I had no idea it could be this good."

Mark grinned at her, initially taking it as a compliment, but then a thought crossed his mind and his brow furrowed. "Are you —" he hesitated. "You told that reporter your body wasn't from Earth. Were . . . were you a virgin? I mean, right before we ended up here in bed together?"

She frowned. Steve certainly wasn't a virgin. But Steve had only had sex with women. Wo-Man's desires for Mark, for a man, were all new to her. And presumably, her body was a model fresh from the factory, as it were.

"You know," she said slowly, "I guess so."

"Hm!" Mark said. "I've only been to bed with a virgin once before, way back in my college days. She wasn't nearly as . . . well . . . dynamic as you."

She kissed him again. then nuzzled her face against his neck and the top of his chest. This heady experience all felt so amazing. He felt so amazing. She wanted nothing more than to stay with him, right here; for this moment to continue forever.

Damn it. She recognized this feeling, too.

She was in love.

I Am Wo-Man is continued in chapter 7.

Send comments regarding this Web page to: Roger M. Wilcox.
Click here to go back to my main old stories page

Roger M. Wilcox's Homepage