“You dirty bastard,” Max said with a gasp.
Rick hesitated long enough for Max to twist around in search of that vulnerable tentacle. “I am going to turn you into a ball of twitching tentacles.”
Drawing Max close, Rick blew bubbles against Max’s stomach. “Clarify. I make you spill genetic materials prior temporally.” He pressed Max’s prostate again, and Max writhed as tentacles held him tightly. However, he was a man on a mission, and he had to focus. He reached for the thick tentacle again, but another tentacle wrapped around his wrist and pulled his arm down to his side. Max was planning his counterattack when Rick pressed in, forcing Max’s hole to stretch.
Max gasped. “Are you?” He swallowed the rest of his words. His hole strained as a second tentacle pushed in next to the first one. That meant a tight coil undulated against Max’s prostate as he forced a tentacle farther into Max’s body . Max arched his back and moaned as he struggled to accommodate both tentacles.
“No longer mutually exclusive options. Rick problem solve winning for partner twitching.” Rick tightened his hold on Max’s thighs before his tentacle surged forward.
Max screamed in pleasure. It was like a too-hot shower, like the burn of stretching sore muscles, like the tightness at the end of a marathon. It was good—so intense that it edged toward pain, and yet left Max wanting more. “You fucking cheater,” Max gasped the words.
“I fucking,” Rick agreed with deep and full belches. Tentacles undulated against Max’s stomach, against the backs of his legs where he was ticklish, against his trapped arm. Then Rick’s reproductive tentacle touched his nipple before curling like a cinnamon bun on Max’s chest.
“Oh, you—” Max screamed and writhed as the suction started. Rick sucking so hard that Max’s nipple felt as if it was being pierced, something Max had been stupid enough to try at eighteen. Then he gentled the pressure to feather kisses over the abused nub. Rick alternated the two until Max thought he couldn’t take more. He writhed. Only then did Rick gentle his motions to soft strokes.
“Yes, I.” Rick proclaimed.
Even though the reproductive tentacle was within reach, Max couldn’t gather his thoughts long enough to make a grab at it. His cock was too hard for him to think about anything other than coming. Damn aliens with their damn tentacles.
One of the tentacles in his ass pressed farther in, a hard point of lust and need. But at the same time, Rick’s other tentacles supported Max’s body, teasing with tickle-touches. The contrast left Max feeling like one giant, overly exposed nerve.
Rick curled his tentacles around Max’s fingers and wrist, and Max tightened his hand. That made Rick shiver, and Max tightened his legs around Rick’s walking tentacle. That sent a larger shiver through him, and all his tentacles shimmied, including the two up Max’s ass.
Max lurched forward as much as he could while still wrapped in a tangle of Rick’s limbs. The movement loosened Rick’s hold over Max’s hand, and Max grabbed a tentacle the way he would a rope when trying to climb it. He circled the tentacle until it was wrapped around his forearm and then he grasped it tightly. The move never failed to turn Rick into a mass of quivering octopus, and it didn’t fail this time. Rick pressed his mouth against Max’s shoulder and blew air. Sometimes that sound meant amusement, but when they were tangling tentacles, it had a whole different meaning.
Lust distracted Rick, and normally Max would’ve used the momentary distraction to grab that reproductive tentacle to drive Rick crazy until he was a pile of goo. However, his ass was stuffed so full that every move increased the pressure on his prostate. Rick recovered before Max could mount a counterattack or even figure out how to think straight while he was impaled.
Rick’s fingers teased the inside of Max’s thighs before moving in toward his balls.
“You’re killing me.” Max let his head fall back, and a tentacle wrapped around his neck before the red tip teased Max’s lips. At the same time, a tender touch explored his cock and a tentacle curled around it. Max tried to thrust, but Rick held him suspended in tentacles, with the weight of both of them supported only by his walking tentacle. Max’s boyfriend was one muscled geek.
“Never kill Max. Never, never, never.” Rick whispered the words against Max’s skin. Each belch made air dance over Max’s skin.
“Then move,” Max begged. He had lost this round, and he was willing to embrace his inner loser if Rick would move his tentacles. At one point, Rick had been so unsure of himself. He had probably feared how a warrior would react to Rick showing off his strength, so their playful competition... Max felt the bonds of trust developing between them.
And Max would win later. He would reduce Rick to quivering limbs and then jerk off all over his red-tipped tentacles. But right now, he couldn’t focus on Rick—not when his ass was stuffed so full that he couldn’t get his brain to work.
Rick tightened his hold of Max’s cock while pushing farther up Max’s ass at the same time.
Pleasure slammed Max like Hulk Hogan taking out an opponent. He writhed as Rick slipped a tentacle into his mouth. The salty musk that was uniquely Rick filled his senses, and Max sucked on it.
Rick quivered, and the resulting vibration in his ass and around his cock gave Max the final push he needed. He came with a scream. Rick must have enjoyed himself too because his limbs were nearly as warm as the hot body pressed against Max’s chest. That only happened with good sex.
Rick shimmied.
“Max skilled in maximizing pleasure,” Rick said with a rumble. “Maximized skilled in maximizing pleasure. Maximized maximizing skilled in maximizing maximized pleasure.”
Max laughed. That was the nicest compliment he’d had since someone called his intestines asymmetrical. “And you make me happy for stagnant water. I would stagnate in this water every day for the rest of my life and be maximum happy.”
Rick slowly pulled his tentacles out of Max’s body. “Stagnant waters sometimes are beautiful,” Rick agreed.
Max’s bare feet touched the floor. Max drew Rick closer. Rick’s tentacles danced over Max’s skin, and Max held on tighter. This was perfect. He wished he didn’t have to deal with the rest of the universe. He had his one alien and that was all he wanted or needed. Well, except of course for the children, but Max tried very hard not to think about the children when his brains had recently leaked out of his cock.
