Saved by Sweet Alien Box Set (27 page)

- A Seven
Chapter Erotic Story

by 
Mia Perry © All
rights reserved.
This book is a work of
fiction.  Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely
coincidental.
Erotic, for adults, 18+ only

“See this…”

I pull out my iPad and play a video.  Daisy’s eyes round and
widen. 

“Why, tiny people.  Are they real?” 

Then she covers her eyes right away.

“Lord, naked girls.  So sinful.” 

Girls are walking on the beach in the video, wearing
bikinis.

Odd, she thinks
girls in bikinis are
NAKED.

Why?

Read my story to find out now!

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Chapter
Six

Chapter
Seven

Isn’t it odd that my girl thinks ladies in bikinis are
naked?  The oddness turns funny when I’m in bed with her the first time.  She
is wearing one gown, two skirts, a pair of thick high-thighs, and large panties;
and she wants me to be “gentle”—I mean
real
gentle.

Being with a girl has never been so hard.  Do you want to
know what happened in her bedroom?

I’m having a paid “vacation” in the Blue Ridge Mountains in
north Georgia.  As a geologist, I’m working.  I go to the field to collect the
rock samples and do my study.  My job is to find what has happened in the
million year history of the mother Earth.    

Meanwhile, I’m enjoying camping in the heart of this
beautiful vacation attraction.  Although others have to pay over a hundred
bucks a night for a small cabin plus plane tickets and everything else for
their vacation, I get paid for my travel, lodgings, food, and beers.  Yes,
beers
.

On top of that, I am paid eighty bucks extra each day for my
hard scientific research in the field.  Man, I can do my research here forever.

I move my body a bit for greater comfort.  I have to try
hard not to get carried away by the water from the waterfall twenty yards
away.  With the fourth beer nearly finished, I find it’s so hard to hold on to
the big rock serving as my sofa at the moment.

I have to say, doing scientific research in geology is always
this hard.

Finally, after God knows how many beers and burps, I decide
to do some real research work.  I dress up like a serious scientist and pick up
my gear: My field bag on my shoulder, my utility belt for my compass, hand lens,
and a few other things, and my hammer in my hand.  The hammer is the “hard
rock” type, or a rock pick, with one pointed and one blunt end.

I walk to the rocks near the waterfall and begin to check
the rock formations carefully.  I see fossils in the limestone.  I collect a
few fossil samples and wrap them up in paper.  Then I walk along the rock
layers to do more research.

Suddenly, I see some shining bits in the rocks.  I bend down
and take my hand lens out to check carefully. I see beautiful crystals, the mix
of purple, pink, blue, and absolutely transparent.

Wow… how perfect these crystals are.  I reach out to touch
them gently.  I know they have been growing in the Earth for millions of
years.  Touching them is like touching the Earth’s history when there were no
humans, birds, and dinosaurs on the dry land yet.

I move my fingers bit by bit. I want to feel them but don’t
want to damage them a tiny bit.  Finally, I feel the cool touch of these
crystals.  Wow… I close my eyes, thinking of the old history of our mother
Earth…

Suddenly, the feeling of the crystals disappears.  I push my
hand down a bit more.  Still nothing.  I open my eyes… what?  All the rock
formations are gone.  What happened?

I stand up and look.  I see a valley in front of me.  Everything
is green and misty.  It looks like the early spring morning after a whole night
of rain.

How come?  I look back.  I see my tent on the other side of
the hill.  The afternoon sunshine casts a long shadow.  Early September has
turned many tree leaves red and yellow. 

What the heck… 
I’m totally confused.  I turn back to
look the valley again.  Nope. There is no sunshine at all.  The sky is gray and
cloudy.  The air is misty.  The fog flows in the middle of the air like a layer
of semi-translucent cloud in far horizon.  

What’s going on?  I look carefully.  Suddenly, I see a house
down the valley.  Great.  Let me go and find out…

The slope is not deep, but very slippery.  Fortunately, I’m
wearing my geological boots, which have been designed to work in the field
efficiently.  I dig the pointy end of my hammer into the soil a few times to
keep my balance.

The air is much cooler than the other side of the slope.  It’s
so much refreshing, too.  Gradually, I hear water running. 

I find myself standing at a creek, gasping.  There are huge
rocks everywhere by the creek.  Huge trees stand high.  It’s quiet.  Super
quiet.  I hear the water running.  Far away, a bird is chirping.  Then another
bird joins.  Then a few more…

Suddenly, I see a girl walking toward me.  She turns and
walks to the side of the creek.  She puts her bucket into the water with one
hand, while pushing her skirt back to avoid getting wet.  The skirt is very
long.  It covers her whole body.

I can’t see her clearly, but I can see a thick and long braid,
going way below her shoulders. 

I walk a bit closer.  The bucket is full of water.  She’s
trying very hard to pull the bucket out of the water with both hands.

“Excuse me,” I say. “Do you need help?”

“Ahhh…” The girl looks at me, screaming.  The bucket drops
back into the water.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m trying to help.” I move one step
back, feeling so sorry.

She looks at me, covering her cheeks with both hands.  After
what seems like an eternity, she smiles. “Haven’t you scared me?”

‘Haven’t you scared me?’
 Odd. This sounds so
special.  And her British accent, too.  Does it mean “You scared me”?  I
believe so.

“Sorry I scared you.”  I say softly, raising both hands
high.  “But I’m not a bad guy.”

“You shall not.” She puts her hands down this time. 

Wow, this is so hard to understand.  Does she mean “I
believe not”?  I don’t know.

“Hi,” I smile.  “I’m Andy, Andy Mackay.”

“How do you do?” She smiles.  After a short while, she adds,
“Mr. Mackay.  My name is Daisy Winterbourne.”

“How do you do, Ms. Winterbourne?” I think for a while and
then add, “Nice to meet you.”  I know this is a funny combination between
British and American English.  But I feel a lot more comfortable to talk in my
familiar way.

“Might I call you Andy, Mr. Mackay?”

“Sure, please.” I grin.  “Yup, you might.”  I add.  Still
can’t get it quite right.  “Might I call you Daisy then, Ms. Winterbourne?” I
guess I sound like a real gentleman this time.

“Sure.”  She smiles.  “Would you like to join me for some
tea?”

“I’d love to, Daisy.”  I grin.  “Can I fetch the water for
you?”

“Yes, please.  Thank you so much, Andy.”  Daisy is so happy.

I walk very carefully to the edge of the creek.  It’s a big,
flat rock but all wet and slippery.  I carefully reach for the bucket.  I grab
the handle, put it down to the water, and then pull it out.  The water in the
bucket is almost full. 
Good job, Andy.

“Thank you so much, Andy.  Please be cautious.”  She leads
the way to the house.

The bucket is not that heavy, maybe about the weight of my
dumbbell.  But the water keeps spilling out.  Soon, the right side of my pants
are all wet.  The water goes into my boot, too, giving me a funny feeling.

I try to keep my balance.  I begin to gasp heavily.  Daisy
stops and turns around, “Shall we rest?”

“I guess we shall.” I smile, putting down the bucket.

“Oh, Andy, your trousers are wet.  I’m so sorry...”  Daisy
sounds so apologetic.

“You mean… my pants?”  I open my arms and look down.

“Eek,” Daisy is trying so hard to stop screaming.  She jumps
back, cheeks turning red.  She covers her cheeks with her hands quickly.  “I
haven’t seen your pants, Andy.”  Her eyes round and widen, voice trembling. 

After a long while, she mumbles, “This is so inappropriate.” 
Her voice is so low, I can barely hear it.

“I’m sorry, Daisy.” I apologize, even though I don’t know
what I said wrong.  I think very hard and then remember some article I read
online that says “pants” actually means “underwear” in British English. 
Oh,
how rude, Andy.
  “Please accept my apology.” I say sincerely.

“Your apology is accepted.”  Daisy smiles.  Her cheeks are
turning from red to pink, looking so pretty.  Her lips are full and shining,
like the cherry ready to be tasted.

She is not wearing any makeup.  Her skin is tanned
naturally.  A few strands of her hair drops down, moving lightly in the
breeze.  She pushes the hairs to the back of her ear with her finger, tilting her
head slightly.  Her teardrop stone earrings wiggle, adding perfection and
elegance to her natural beauty.   

She looks at me.  Her eyes are so pure and so innocent.  They’re
full of smiling and attractiveness.  “Andy,” she says and then stops right
away, her cheeks turn all red.  After a while, she says softly, “Andy.  Had you
been a traveler?”

“Do you mean ‘Have you been travelling’?’” I smile.

“I guess so,” She stops again.  “Ah… Andy.”

“Not really.  I’m working.”  I smile.  “Yup, I’m working in
the field.”

“Farming?” She smiles so sweetly.  “What do you grow? 
Corn?  Potatoes?  Cotton? Wheat?”

I look at myself. 
Do I look like a farmer at all?  Don’t
you think a farmer like this is too… fancy?
  I almost laugh.  Then I
realize right away laughing is definitely “inappropriate”—as Daisy puts it. 
“I’m not a farmer, Daisy.  I’m a geologist.” 

She looks completely confused. 
“Okay, a geologist studies rocks.”  I add quickly.

“You meant looking for minerals?”  Daisy beams.  “My father
was looking for minerals, too.”

“Really?”  This is a surprise to me.  “Can I see him,
please?”  I’m so eager.

“He… has passed away.”  Daisy looks so sad.

“I’m sorry, Daisy.”

“Thank you, Andy.”  She whispers.  After a few moments, she
says, “Actually… I have something very special to show you.  Let’s go.”  She begins
to walk toward the house.

I pick up the bucket and follow, trying not to spill too
much water.

“Here we are…”  Daisy stops in front of the house. 

I put down the water bucket and look.  It’s a woodhouse with
a shingle roof.  Two large chimneys stand on both sides of the house. 

A hen is taking a nap nearby.  About fifteen baby chicks are
running around her.  Mostly yellow with two or three black.  Two chicks flap their
wings and jump onto the back of the hen.  The hen stays still, eyes closed. 

How lovely.  Suddenly, a big black dog runs out from the
backyard.  “Bobby, easy, Andy is our guest.”  Daisy says right away, patting him.

Bobby is at least sixty pounds with black, long hair.  He
stares at me, growling, showing all his teeth. 

After a while, he becomes quiet.  He comes near and sniffs
me.

“Is he going to bite?” My body is trembling.

“Never.”  Daisy smiles.  “Bobby hasn’t bitten a human body. 
See?  He likes you.”

I’m not so sure if Bobby really likes me.  He sniffs my body
carefully.  I’m so scared, I want to jump away.

After a while, Bobby wiggles his tail once.  Then one more
time.  “See, Andy, Bobby is now your friend.  Touch him.”  Daisy tries to
encourage me.

I’m not sure if Bobby is going to bite. I raise my hand over
his head and move down with my open palm.  Bobby looks up and stays still.  When
my palm gets close, he closes his eyes.  I touch his head.  He turns his head a
bit.  I move my palm down his neck.  He wiggles his tail a few times.

“Excellent, Andy.”  Daisy is so pleased.  “Sit down,
please.  Let me make some tea.”

I sit at a large wooden table.  Daisy retrieves some water
from the bucket and puts it into a large, cast iron kettle.  She puts the
kettle on the stove at the door and adds some firewood.  Soon, the water
boils.  The lid keeps jumping.  Steam sizzles out.

“Need any help?”  I stand up.

“It’s alright.”  Daisy smiles.  “Please sit down.”  She
carries the kettle and puts it on the table.

Soon, she made two good green teas.  Then she rushes into
the house and comes out with a tray.  “Try some cookies.”  She sits down and
smiles.  “I baked them yesterday.”

“Thank you, Daisy.”  I smile.  We both pick one.

The cookie smells great.  I take a small bite.  It’s crispy
yet soft.  Hmmm… so perfect.  I chew carefully and bite on nuts.  Wow… this is
incredible.

“Like it?” Daisy smiles.

“It’s great.” I smile.  “Thank you so much for treating me.”

“Not at all.”  She grins.  “Help yourself.”

We chat a bit.  Then Daisy says, “Your accent is so
different.  Are you a British, too?”

I roll my eyes and think hard.  Maybe my great, great
grandfather was.  But I’m not so sure.  “Well, my last name Mackay does have a
Scottish or North Irish origin.  But I am an American.”

“American?” Daisy’s eyes widen.  “I’m not so sure I
understand.”

Why?  Is my accent so hard to understand for Daisy?  I try
once more, speaking much slower, “I’m an American, like from the United States
of A-m-e-r-i-c-a.”

She looks totally confused, staring at me like I’m from Mars
or something.  After a long while, she asks, “You know Georgia, don’t you?”

“Yup.  We are in Georgia, right?”

She nods.  Then she asks, “Have you been to Savannah?”

Savannah?  Why Savannah?
 I don’t get it.  I shake my
head.

“You must have travelled far.”  Daisy smiles.  “I thought
everyone in Georgia knows Savannah is the capital city.”

What?  I’m so confused.  “Daisy, isn’t the capital city of
Georgia Atlanta?”

“Atlanta?”  Daisy looks so surprised.  “You meant the
Atlantic Ocean?  Certainly my father mentioned it.”

I shake my head slightly and smile.  Something must be
missing between me and her.  Who in Georgia doesn’t know Atlanta is the capital
city?  “Atlanta is a city.”  I try to explain.  “The head office of Coca-Cola
is in Atlanta, too.”

“Coco…?” Daisy looks at me. She is now totally confused.

Weird.
  Daisy might be the only girl in this country
who doesn’t know Coca-Cola.     

“Daisy, you mentioned your father was looking for minerals,
too, and you have something special to show me.”  I try to find more
information.

She thinks for a few moments and then says, “Actually… yes. 
Father wrote a letter but never had a chance to mail it.  Let me show you.”

She walks into the house.  After a long while, she comes out
with a wooden box.  She put the box on the table and opens it.  She searches
for a while and picks up a piece of paper.  “Here.” She hands me the paper.

It’s a handwritten letter to Mr. Henry Davis, with a date
of… January 25, 1774.