You Can't Choose Love (14 page)

           
The blades circled in a hypnotic motion. For hours Ashton stared at the ceiling
fan. She shifted her covers, stacked her pillows, slept left, slept right, nothing
she did felt comfortable. Her body was tired, but her mind was a three-year-old
on caffeine and sugar cubes, racing back and forth. It didn’t help that her
windows rattled with the winds from an approaching storm.  She had her own
storm in her mind she was dealing with.

           
Even though there was some resolution with her family Ashton new her trouble
and issues had just begun. Being a single mother wouldn’t be easy. Her dad was
right she thought. How was she supposed to take care of the farm and her
newborn

She was more lonely than
ever. She had only been with Orion for a night, but it felt like she knew him
for an eternity. She missed him and wanted to know more about him. She didn’t
even stop to think about how amazing it was to be one of the only people that
know there is another life form out there in the whole universe. She has part
of that life form, part of him growing in her she thought to herself.

           
She sits up in her bed. Her belly has gotten significantly larger so it’s not
as easy to sit up as it once was.  That may be why she’s having such a
hard time falling asleep. Her room is dark except a small night light by the
door and the occasional lightning strike in the distance. She pulls off her
covers and walks over to the telescope and looks through it. Her view is
limited from the window especially through the rain, but she always remains
hopeful to catch a glimpse of Orion who may be watching her from above.

           
“Where are you, my prince? My man from another world, another Galaxy, “ she
whispers as if he’d somehow hear her through the telescope.

           
“I don’t want to be alone. I need you. I can’t have this baby alone. I don’t
even know how to raise an Alien baby or whatever it will be.”

           
Her emotions build. Her heart starts to race. She paces back and forth.
Thousands of conflicting thoughts collide. She can’t handle it anymore.

Ashton runs down the stairs. She’s about to run outside but stops
and looks at the radio in the den. She  grabs the microphone from it and
flips the radio on. The radio whirrs on. She’s done this many other nights and
it didn’t matter. No response.

“Orion. Orion. If you can hear me I need you. I crave you”

“I don’t know who this Orion guy is but that’s pretty hot. I can
come meet you.” says some random voice possibly a trucker.

Frustrated Ashton shuts off the radio, throws the microphone and
runs out of the house. The screen door slams behind her. She runs through the
grass field. The rain pounds harder and harder with each step. The sheets of
falling water drench her t-shirt. Her oversized shirt clings to her body and
reveals her breasts as her shirt becomes see-through from the wetness. She
keeps running, but not as fast as before. It takes her a little longer with a
bulging pregnant belly, but she’s just as determined. She makes it to the edge
of the corn field where she was abducted. She fights to breathe and catch her
breath. The  cold air stings her as it enters her lungs.

“Orion! Orion!!” Ashton yells at the angry dark skies. Lightning
strikes in the distance. “Are you watching?  Are you up there? I need
you!”

After no response, she makes her way into the maze of corn. She
comes to a flattened area about where she found herself after the abduction.

She again yells to the skies. “Orion, you can’t leave me here by
myself! I need you! I have your baby! “

Ashton takes off her wet shirt, shorts and panties to reveal her pregnant
body. She stands naked in the rain, water running down her face and breasts.
Lights shoot through the sky around her. A steady beam of light lands next to
her. Grass under the beam starts to tug back and forth and soon ends up
floating in the air. Ashton reaches for the light and feels an upward pull
toward the sky. She steps to the light. The light surrounds her body and slowly
raises her nude form into the night skies. Rain drops are displaced by the
yellow light beam.  She looks down and sees the farm getting further and
further away. She normally would be afraid of heights, but can’t help but
smirking.  She wonders what someone would think if they saw her nude,
pregnant self, floating in midair. As she’s pulled further up, her throat dries.
She’s nervous and excited. She hasn’t stopped thinking about the spaceship, the
abduction or Orion since that amazing night. Bobby Darren, or any other fantasy
couldn’t hold a candle up to the reality that was Orion.

Ashton sees a metallic structure in the clouds above her. A
pattern of lights move in a rapid order around it. It’s an Alien ship. The beam
of light is emitting from a trap door underneath it.  By some unseen
force, she’s pulled through the trap door and into a large room. Her nude body
stays suspended in midair even after the trap door closes. The lights surround
her body. She’s about two feet on the floor. A familiar figure walks into the
room from a sliding metallic door. It’s Orion.

“You’re not a dream. You are real,” Ashton says with a tear. She
puts her hand to her belly. “It’s yours, Orion. I’m yours.”

The giant, muscular nude figure walks toward her. His skin
fluctuates between iridescent colors and a mirror-like surface. His body form
is perfect. He’s like a moving statue.

“I craved you. I missed you,” says Orion. He moves his hands over
her floating body. They are huge and comforting. His hands go over her soft
skin, down her belly. He puts his hand behind her head to pull her in for a
kiss. Blood rushes through her body. The kiss is passionate and familiar.
Familiar like they’ve kissed in a past life. His lips taste sweet. She bites
his bottom lip. He slowly moves away to spin her levitating body around. Her
naked back and curvy bottom are exposed to him.

He pulls her toward him. She feels his rippled chest against her
back and his hardened cock against her ass. He reaches around to feel her ample
breasts as he kisses down her neck. Her nipples are hard and tender to the
touch. His other hand slides down her belly, then her thighs.

“I love you,” Ashton says, while taking in every feeling and every
touch.

“I need you,” Orion responds, as he sucks harder on her nude neck,
pushing away her wet red hair. He reaches down her thighs between her legs and
realizes it’s not just her hair that’s wet.

She can’t contain how horny he makes her. She wants to feel and
experience every part of him. His fingers tease her clit in rhythmic, circular
motions, increasing in intensity. Her back arches as she grinds her soft ass on
his hardened member. He slides a finger deep inside her. Her body trembles with
excitement. She flexes her legs back and forth over his finger. She reaches
back to feel how hard he is. She slides her hand up and down around his
thickness.

He gently bends her over and caresses her cheeks. He slips himself
inside of her from behind. An intense pressure fills her. She loves feeling him
inside of her. He pulls slowly out, then back in, building up his speed. One
hand is around her waist and the other’s still teasing her clit. She can feel
every inch of his shaft thrusting over and over. With each thrust she moans and
screams until finally … an explosion of feelings and ecstasy shoot though every
part of her body. Her body shakes and spasms as aftershocks of joy hit her.

Orion lowers her to the ground and pulls a silver fabric-like
material from a slot in the wall to cover her nude body with. He holds her
tightly. He’s never been like this with anyone here on earth, or on his home
planet. His customs were much different and less personal. This was all foreign
to him, but he loved feeling this delicate flower next to him. It was forbidden
in every way possible, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to spend another day
without her.

Laying in bliss, Ashton says nothing. She slowly catches up on her
breathing. Sweat forms down her body, and her lovers embrace only heats her
more. She didn’t know if she’d ever feel him again.

Orion kisses her neck and whispers into her ear. “I don’t want you
to ever leave.”

Ashton turns around to kiss his lips. She looks into his
reflective eyes. “I don’t know where your home is. I don’t know what’s next,
but I don’t care, as long as it’s with you.”

Orion holds her tight.

“And our baby.”

“Yes, our baby.” Ashton rubs her belly. “Do I need to pack some
clothes?” Ashton ask as she looks under the reflective sheet at her naked
self. 

The metallic ship hovering in the clouds turns invisible with only
a pattern of lights remaining. A mechanical whirring builds up and then
explodes. The ship darts away leaving a trail of lights to catch up with it.
Ashton looks forward to her new adventure and her new love a few galaxies away.

 Faith runs out to the porch just in time to see the light of
the ship taking off. She now knows for a fact that her sister was telling the
truth about everything. She shakes her head back and forth laughing to herself.

“That slut. Hooking up with the first Alien that sweeps her off
her feet.” Faith jokes to herself before letting a tear drop fall from her eye.
She whispers to the sky “Love you sis. I’m going to miss you. I hope you found
your knight in shining armor after all. “

Queen of the Mojave

Chloe Martel

Queen of the Mojave

Copyright 2016 by Chloe Martel

First electronic
publication: June 2016

All rights are reserved. No
part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without
written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This book is a work of
fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed
as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locale or
organizations is entirely coincidental.

Warning: Due to mature
subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this
story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. All sexually active
characters in this work are 18 years of age or older, and all acts of a sexual
nature are consensual.

Alma Abrams rode Roach into town, which comprised a
long dusty road, a post office, a newspaper office, three hotels, four general
stores, a meat market, bars, brothels, three restaurants and two boarding
houses; there was a deputy sheriff, two constables, three doctors, a justice of
the peace; and two lawyers. There was even a telephone and telegraph service.
Calico, the Mojave’s silver-producing star, with over five-hundred silver
mines—this was where the wanderer Alma Abrams would make her home.

She rode to the closest tavern, outside of which a
dirt-encrusted man sat, his head lolling on his chest. Roach let out a soft
neigh. Alma stroked her mane. “Easy, girl,” she muttered, and Roach quieted.
“You, my good man,” she said, trotting over to the man and gazing down at him.

“What sort of evil excuse of a man bothers a working
man . . . arg!” He looked up under the rim of his hat, and his expression
changed in a moment from one of hatred to one of complete shock. Alma knew what
the man saw and what he had expected to see. He had expected to see a man, like
him, covered in dirt and with a tough body worn by decades of hard labor.
Instead, what he saw was a woman of twenty-four, with smooth, white skin, wide
blue eyes, golden hair tied back in a bun, wearing trousers which hugged her
tight figure and a shirt – a man’s shirt – which showed the tops of her pert
breasts. Alma allowed him one of her smiles.
A smile is just one weapon in a
woman’s arsenal, after all
.

“Excuse me,” the man breathed. He climbed to his
feet and dusted down his clothes. “I didn’t mean to speak with such haste.
Neither did I mean to imply any sort of . . . of . . . Excuse me, miss, but
what is a woman like you doing in Calico?”

“I seek a room,” she said. “Surely a man as
distinguished as yourself would know the best room in the town?”

Alma was not surprised when the man blushed and then
puffed his chest up. Men, she had learned, were gluttons for flattery. Even
when the flattery was obviously absurd, even when it was completely dissociated
with the reality of the situation, they were gluttons for it. This man did not
look distinguished, but that did not stop her cool calm flattery from reaching
his ears and having its effect.

“There’s Beryl’s hotel at the end of the road,
there.” He pointed to the far end of the town to a two-story building whose
blue paint chipped and flaked in the setting sunlight. “Be careful, mind, miss.
All hotels round here serve a double purpose, you see, as, err . . . How do I
say it, miss? Err . . .”

“Brothels?” Alma offered.

The man was so shocked to hear Alma – clearly an
angel – utter such a dirty word that he took a step back. His blush deepened,
and then he nodded quickly. “Yes,” he muttered.

“Very well, then,” she said, and led Roach toward
Beryl’s.

Alma did not have to look back to know that the man
was watching her. If he stopped to think for a second, he would realize it was
completely unnecessary to ask a local where the hotels were. Calico was a small
town of around one-thousand inhabitants. It would not be a tall order to find
the hotel for herself. But the man wouldn’t think; he would do exactly as Alma
wanted him to. He would go into the tavern and tell the miners about the
arrival of a golden-haired woman wearing trousers and riding a horse,
unaccompanied by a husband, seeking lodging. And the miners would whisper
fiercely, and soon the owners of the Silver King Mining Corporation would hear
of it. Alma’s plan would be set in motion.

She tethered Roach to the post and walked into the
hotel. A barrel-chested woman stood behind a desk. She had thick, strong hands
and thick, strong legs and a thick, strong head. She grimaced when Alma
approached the desk. “Is your husband here already?” she said.

“I am afraid I am a widow.” That wasn’t strictly
true, but the Lord knew that people – women especially – treated widows better
than lone travelling women.
Wanton women
, Alma thought with a bitter
taste in her mouth. But she did not let her internal monologue show on her
exterior. She liked to think of herself as a master of the exterior. Her mind
could run in the opposite direction to her face and nobody would know but her.
She could grin during an execution and scream in terror during a proposal of
marriage.

“So you are alone?” Beryl grunted.

“Alone.” Alma nodded. “Just like so many lost souls
in the great Mojave.”

“Oh, you’re a poet, are you?”

Alma smiled. “I am merely trying to befriend the
owner of Calico’s finest hotel.”

As Alma said this, a half-dressed woman stumbled
from a nearby door, followed by two men. The half-dressed woman kissed one of
the men fully on the mouth whilst the other explored under what little clothing
she wore with a meaty hand. Alma pretended not to notice. This seemed to
impress Beryl. She smiled as though to say: “Ah, so you’re not a fussy one.”

“I’ve got spare room,” Beryl said. “It’s nasty, but
it’s cheap.”

“Cheap and nasty have never been a problem for me.
And you have a place to stable my horse?”

Beryl nodded. “We can take care of that, too.”

“Very good.”

Alma encountered two more whores as she climbed the
stairs to her bedroom. One said nothing, only looked at the ground in a vain
attempt to hide the blooming bruises that painted her eyes. The other – a
toothless crone, her prime a tiny dot somewhere in the vague past – grinned a
gummy grin. “New competition, eh?”

Alma found she had had enough of playacting. She
looked up and down the hallway. When she saw that she and the crone were alone,
she approached the woman so she stood over her, looking down at her. “I hate
you, ma’am,” she said, “for no other reason than you amuse yourself with saying
unintelligent and cruel things to a woman whom you have never met. I just
thought you should know that.”

She turned on her heels and walked toward her door.
Behind her, the woman grumbled something, but Alma ignored her. Her spirit was
restored; she had allowed her mask to slip for a moment.
One must indulge
one’s true nature every so often lest one go insane
, she thought.