"Rosie." His voice was tired. I understood. Craig never made me feel unwelcome. He wasn't threatened by my relationship with Betty, but I was still an extra person in his house. I know he wants to see me settled and out of his house almost as much as I do.
"I know, I promise I'm still looking. And if not, in three months I'll be heading off to perv planet and out of your hair." I snap my laptop closed and push away from the table,more annoyed with myself than anything else.
"Rosie, it's not like that." Craig turns around to look at me, but I can't. I just can't.
"I know, hun. I appreciate you." I grab my laptop and drop a kiss on Craig's cheek before heading out of the kitchen and to my bedroom.
Chapter 3
Rosie
Ido not understand your interest in my position, but I prefer patrolling. Guard jobs do not allow for much activity. My favorite is emergency response, though I dislike the emergencies. I just enjoy the challenge and urgency of them. What is your position?
My laugh is smothered in my hand so I don't wake up Betty and Craig. Well, that was almost wholesome. I'm a little put off at the idea of him being in law enforcement, but maybe space cops aren't bad. Maybe? Hopefully. Sigh.
I think about answering him, but I don't really want to talk about the fact that the only job I've been able to hold down for the last two years is mixing up bougie coffees at a local coffee shop. I could tell him I'm a writer. It's almost true. I do write. But that's not what I want to do either.
Instead, I give into my inner slut and surf for a photo of a couple doing it doggy. Before I can think better of it, I caption the image with 'this is my favorite position' and hit send.
The message sends at the speed of old-school dial-up. Though thankfully without the demon screeching sound. I wait for the image to load before flipping tabs to look through the digital job boards.
Not that I have any hope. I've been looking for the better part of a year without any luck. I am a pathological student. After high school, I went for my bachelor's in writing. That's where I met Betty. When I told her I wanted to be a doctor in creative writing and literature, she'd supported me. It took me eleven years to get it with me working part-time, going to school full-time, and Betty supporting me financially for most of it.
I'd thought getting my doctorate would be when I finally settled down and settled in. I could get a job, easy. I'd be qualified for anything. Except, Mom got sick and I'd put off looking for a job to care for her. That year of full-time care was the hardest thingI've ever done and left me numb. And now there was a year gap in my resume.
The doctorate that I so desperately wanted left me overqualified for many jobs in my field. My useless liberal arts degree didn't give me practical skills for other jobs. I was both too smart and too stupid to do anything but make coffee. It's fucking depressing.
The H.E.L.P. tab flashes and I flip over to see a new message from Rexus. An image is loading and my eyes bulge as it begins to come through.
Ok-aaaay then. I grin and settle into bed to see what exactly this spaceman is into.
Chapter 4
Rosie
Ido not know how to describe a rut in a way you can understand. It's an all-consuming need to fuck. To take. There is no satisfying it. We can survive without a mating partner, but it is deeply uncomfortable and extends the duration of the rut if we are unable to get the necessary relief.
So, not unlike ovulating. I think to myself with a small grin. A photo is loading, agonizingly slowly.
"Rosie posy!" Betty sings as she comes into the kitchen. "How do you feel about teaching?"
"Kids or adults?" I'd rather run myself over with a semi-truck than teach small children, and Betty knows it. Not having children was one of the few things we steadfastly agreed upon.
"Adults, of — oh my god! What is that?"
I spin around in my chair to stare open-mouthed at the photo that just finished loading on my screen. Betty leans over my shoulder to get a better look. I think about slapping her away but I can't take my eyes off of the screen.
"Dick pic." I stammer out, trying to take in the image. A very large and scaly light green hand is wrapped around the base of two fully erect penises. They overflow his hand. They resemble normal penises for the most part, except for a weird flare around the base of the head.
"That's…"
"Wow." I finish for her.
"Girl."
"I know." My pussy clenches down at the thought of even one of those cocks filling me. I haven't put any effort into dating in forever, and my last situationship fell in love, fuck, nine months ago, and I haven't had anything but my hand since then.
"Do you think he uses both at once?" Betty asks, leaning closer.
