An Unexpected Guest from an Unexpected Angle
Written by Klaus :: [Sunday, 01 December 2019 20:16] Last updated by :: [Friday, 06 December 2019 11:34]
An Unexpected Guest from an Unexpected Angle
Disclaimer: this story is set against the backdrop of a setting called the Aurora universe or AU, the delightful creation of a fellow named Shadar who not only thought up like 90% of the setting we’re experiencing together and who also was patient and thoughtful in answering all my questions about the AU. Hilda and Jasmine’s story would not exist without his patience and I’m immeasurably grateful for that
A remote house in northern Florida.
Jasmine Brewer slouched on her sofa in the living room of her house, dressed in gray pajama bottoms and a plain gray T-shirt. Her iPod rested on a table beside the sofa, playing Jasmine’s preferred post-breakup playlist of mix of rock and metal songs. Currently, AC/DC’s Highway to Hell was blaring forth from the device.
In one hand, Jasmine clutched a half-full bottle of vodka, in the other hand she held a picture of herself and her ex-girlfriend Rachel. The Jasmine in the photo had long light-brown hair, vivid deep green eyes, and a narrow face. She was tall, with a lovely hourglass figure, perhaps few pounds over her supposedly ideal weight, but in a way that enhanced rather then detracted from her curves. Rachel was tall, blonde, and athletic with big brown eyes.
Jasmine and Rachel’s relationship had been fun. A source of uncomplicated joy for both women. Until Rachel had stopped listening to her heart and started listening to her father, the good pastor. Until Rachel had turned up at Jasmine’s front door crying and saying that their relationship was a sin before God. Rachel had just stormed out the door, still sobbing, leaving Jasmine to console herself with alcohol and hard rock.
Jasmine hurled the photo aside and took another swig from the bottle. Well, fuck Rachel, fuck her father, fuck his entire flock and fuck all born again worthless-
Jasmine’s inner rant was suddenly interrupted as an explosive roar filled the house. The structure shook and rumbled like it was caught in the eye wall of a hurricane. Jasmine was thrown off the sofa and onto the floor, spilling most of the vodka bottle’s remaining contents. The noise stopped as suddenly as it began, and the home ceased shaking with an audible groan.
Jasmine pushed herself to a sitting position, looked around, noticed smoke coming from the entryway to the kitchen and said the first thing that came to her mind, “What the fuck?”
Hearing no useful reply, only the creaking of the house as it settled on its foundation, Jasmine wobbled unsteadily to her feet, drained the remaining dregs of the vodka bottle, switched off the iPod, flipped her grip on the bottle so she was holding it like a police baton, and advanced cautiously to the threshold of the kitchen entrance.
The smoke in the kitchen was too thick for Jasmine to assess the full damage done by whatever had hit it, but there was a gaping hole in the roof, and a crater where the island once stood. Jasmine bit back an expletive. She’d just had the entire kitchen redone, the floor, the cupboards, a new sink, and fancy new-
A large figure suddenly loomed out of the smokey crater. Jasmine gave voice to a squeaky yelp and threw the bottle at the figures head like a bowling pin. The terrified woman didn’t wait to see what effect her improvised missile had, instead choosing to spin in place and make a dash for her cell phone, which was currently on the floor in front of the sofa.
Jasmine tripped over her own feet and for the second time in the last five minutes she found herself face down on the living room floor. She wasted a moment feeling like a perfect idiot, pushed herself to her hands and knees, and lunged for her purse.
Jasmine was frantically digging inside her purse, trying to unearth her cellphone and call the police before whatever alien monster chewed out her heart or implanted her with its spawn, when the voice floated up from behind her.
“Its okay,” said the voice, smooth and rich like honeyed biscuits, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Jasmine froze, her hand grasping the plastic case of her cell phone. Xenomorphs couldn’t talk, right? She took a deep, slow breath and turned around. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped in stupefied awe at the sight before her.
The women standing before Jasmine, with her arms raised to her side in a non-threatening posture, A small silvery backpack held in one hand, was a study in pleasurable contrasts. A short messy bob of platinum blonde hair, with side swept bangs that helped frame a broad face, full kissable lips, a wide strong nose, and a strong and squarish yet feminine jawline. Her eyes were an almost startling shade of blue with a strange luminescence glow to them. Her torso was a broad wedge of muscle, with an eight-packs of abs flanked by flaring obliques. Powerful pectorals supported impossibly full, firm and gravity defying breasts and shoulders straited like pumpkins. Meaty biceps and triceps bulged enticingly under drum-tight skin. Her waist was relatively narrow, and led down to tree-trunk thighs and perfect diamond calves. She was covered in nothing but a thin bright yellow slingshot bikini, thigh-high yellow boots with blue stripes the flanks, and a choker with a small medallion with a V emblazoned on it. She was a head taller then Jasmine, and her skin had a soft bronzed tan to it.
Jasmine, who made her living as a free-lance photographer, had once covered a female bodybuilding contest in Miami. Those contestants were nearly as big as the amazon before Jasmine, but at the cost of their femininity. The amazonian women was a glorious symphony of silken softness and steely hardness, a wonderful celebration of power and beauty in accord.
The woman flashed a smile with enough wattage to power a mid-sized metropolitan area at Jasmine, and said, “My name is Hilda Alder’than. What’s your name?”
Since remaining silent would have been pointless, and also very rude, Jasmine responded “Jasmine, I’m Jasmine Brewer.”
Hilda licked her lips, then said, “Jasmine, I understand you’re probably confused and frightened and wondering why there’s a hole in your roof and a giant woman in your living room and I promise I’ll answer all your questions,” Hilda moved both her hands direct above her heart and continued, “I do, but first, I’m thirstier then you can possibly imagine right now, so could I get some water? Please?”
Jasmine kept a few cases of water stashed in the foyer’s closet, in case of hurricanes and other emergencies, which was lucky, as fetching water from the kitchen in its current condition seemed like a giant waste of time. Hilda sat on the couch, having rapidly drained three water bottles and almost through a fourth bottle. Jasmine fished a bottle of aspirin and an energy drink from her purse. She wasted down two of the aspirin with a sip from the drink in the futile hope that the caffeine and pills would blunt her inevitable hangover before joining Hilda on the couch.
The big blond women finished the last water bottle and let out a satisfied sigh. She discarded the empty container, shifted to face Jasmine and resumed her previous power-planet smile. She said, “Thanks, you wouldn’t believe how dry you feel after five months of hole diving.”
Jasmine arched one eyebrow and said, “Hole diving?”
Hilda nodded and replied, “Yep hole-diving, its how most Vels achieve interstellar travel, but it can really-”
“Wait a second here,” interrupted Jasmine, waving her hands back and forth, “Hole-diving? Interstellar travel? Vels? Can we start from the beginning? Maybe with what exactly you are?” Jasmine pointed directly at Hilda with one hand and with an intense expression said, “And don’t try and bullshit me by saying you’re just human! There’s no way you could have crashed through my roof and totaled my kitchen and not received so much as a bruise!” A skeptical expression replaced Jasmine’s previous look, and she continued, “Well, unless this is all an some scheme-”
Hilda interrupted Jasmine with a raised index finger. “Lets squash that line of thinking right away.”
Hilda shifted to pick up one of the discarded empty water bottles, which gave jasmine a brief glimpse of the big woman’s upper body from the side. The statuesque blonde’s chest was beer keg thick with muscle, although her abundant curves softened the hard line of her physique from unpleasantly hard to appealing firm.
Hilda picked up the bottle and casually tossed it into the air. As Jasmine watched in astonishment, Hilda’s eyes begin to glow with a white light, softly at first, then with a blinding intensity! A thin ribbon of red lashed out from Hilda’s eyes at the empty plastic bottle, searing it neatly in half! The harsh scent of burning plastic filled the living room as the two halves of the bottle fell to the floor, the severed edges glowing red with heat.
Jasmine stared at the bisected bottle.
She looked at Hilda.
She looked back to the bottle.
She looked at Hilda again.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Said Jasmine reverently, “You’re a goddamned alien. Here, in my house! In my living room! On my couch! And you shoot lasers out of your fucking eyes!” Jasmine let loose a strained, manic laugh. She slid as far away from Hilda as she could manage until she was posed against the couch’s arm. The photographer clutched her legs to her chest, her eyes wide with fear. Her heart raced like a sports car and her breaths were frantic.
Hilda shifted closer to Jasmine, the upholstery rustling as the big woman’s massive legs slid along the couch. She leaned in close to Jasmine and placed one hand on the photographer’s shoulder, her big blue eyes fixed on Jasmine’s face with a soft expression. Her large breasts pressed firmly and pleasantly against Jasmine’s legs.
“Breathe.” Hilda said gently.
Maybe it was her husky voice. Maybe it was her smokey sapphire eyes. Maybe it was the realization that if a women with Hilda’s capabilities seriously intended to hurt Jasmine then she would have done so by now.
Jasmine’s panicked pants slowed to an steady rate. She swallowed nervously but for the first time returned Hilda’s big grin with a weak smile of her own.
“I’m sorry,” Said Jasmine quietly, “I got a little overwhelmed there, with the whole sudden unexpected alien house guest thing.”
“That’s alright,” replied Hilda, her smile undiminished, “ I’d say that, all things considered, you’re taking this pretty well.” The big women let out a chuckled and said, “And I’m not an alien, I’m a Velorian, or Vel for short. My specific title is that of Protector.”
“Well then, what actually is a Velorian then?” Asked Jasmine.
Thus commenced a rapid fire series of questions and answers.
“Humans essentially, of Nordic stock. We taken from a single village during the 9th century in what’s now Sweden. An ancient, powerful and knowledgeable race called the Galen needed surrogates after a biological weapon rendered all their females infertile. Which, after a little genetic editing, we Vels were perfect for.”
Jasmine’s gaze darted towards the neatly separated halves of the water bottle. “Bullshit.” She declared.
“Okay, maybe more then a little editing.” Said Hilda as she made flipped her head in an equine manner, simultaneously sliding her hand through her platinum locks in a manner calculated to make any onlookers shallow their tongues.
Jasmine spat her tongue out of her throat and continued the Q&A session with “What are your powers, aside from heat vision?”
“Its laser vision, not heat vision.” Said Hilda in the tone of a teacher emphasizing something that’s definitively going to be on the final. She raised her left hand and began ticking off a finger for each power. “Laser vision, Tachyon or nano vision, which allows me to see through solid objects, Flight, which might have been obvious considering my conventional choice of entry-point. I’d never normally enter a cute humans house like that! Invulnerability to a degree that I can ride a nuke like the general in Dr. Strangelove and walk away unscratched, the ability to read men’s minds during sex-”
“You can read peoples minds during sex?” Said Jasmine, as she wondered where a sudden spike of heat directly under her collar bone had come from.
“Only males, and I’ve never found it particularity useful. Terran males thoughts during sex tend to be very focused, especially with a Vel. I prefer women to men, anyway. Much better kissers.” Said Hilda with a lascivious grin.
Jasmine fought back the urge to beam like a spotlight.
Hilda swapped hands and continued counting off her powers. “Superhuman reflexs, superhuman speed, superhuman senses, multiple orgasms and of course-” Hilda raised her arm into a flex, inflating her bicep into a majestic mountain of muscle. “Super human strength. I can’t move a planet but there’s not really any obstacle that a world of Earth’s tech level can put in my way that I can’t break or smash through.”
Jasmine gasped at the dazzling spectacle of feminine power before her. She reached out and slowly ran her hand over Hilda’s tensed bicep, marveling at the cantaloupe sized ball of organic fibers under the softest, supplest skin she had ever felt. She brought her other hand up to clutch Hilda’s perfect horseshoe triceps, while shifting the hand on the bicep to its peak. She fanned out both hands to encompass as much unyielding muscle as possible and squeezed with all her strength. Reinforced cement would have had more give to it.
Hilda’s eyes fluttered and a series low pleasurable murmurs slipped through her sensuous lips in response to Jasmine’s touch. The photographer guiltily yanked her hands away from Hilda’s arms, like her limb had suddenly become red hot.
The big Vel grinned and said “I did warn you I was extra sensitive. Maybe I should have made it clear that meant sensitive all over my body, not just in specific places.” Hilda’s grin vanished, replaced by a slightly melancholic expression. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Its just that after five months spent worm-diving you end up feeling really lonely and really horny. Outer space is really big, empty and boring. Protectors get special training to deal with the stresses of being isolated in such an environment for so long, but when your only change of scenery and routine comes from actually diving through a wormhole, which feels like you’re trapped in a giants palm and hes trying to squeeze you to death. We also usually get assigned a traveling companion for longer trips, but that wasn’t possible for my journey. When you’re doing a long haul along you forget whats like to talk, to touch and to be touched.”
Hilda reached out her hand and gently caressed Jasmines jawline. The Velorion looked very human, very vulnerable and in dire need of a little basic human contact at the moment.
Jasmine slid closer to the large blond and hugged Hilda as tightly as she could.
There was a moment of surprised tension, but Hilda’s formidable bulk softened immediately and she gently wrapped her powerful arms around Jasmine in reciprocation of the embrace, while gently stroking Jasmine’s soft brown hair.
“Your hair is so soft. Soft like a Vels” Hilda whispered.
Jasmine’s overstimulated brain was unable to muster a responese. The sheer muscular mass of Hilda’s form pressed against Jasmine felt incomparable. And the Velorian smelled fucking orgasmic. Like a meadow in spring, with something sweet mixed in that Jasmine couldn’t quite put her finger on. Hilda’s scent seemed to wash away both Jasmine’s lingering haziness from the Vodka and all of her objections to having sex with the big Vel.
Hilda stroked Jasmine again, this time starting at the base of her neck and slowly running her hand along Jasmine’s back to the base of her spine. “Velorians really like Terrans. Some say we like Terrans too much, but the sort that says tends not to be worth listening to.”
Jasmine’s response was to plunge her face into the voluptuous firmness of Hilda’s cleavage, rubbing her face against Hilda’s big beautiful boobs like a cat does to mark its territory.
Hilda experienced a full body quiver, before she emitted a wistful sigh, followed by gently pushing Jasmine away from her ample chest and raising the smaller woman’s face to meet her gaze. While Hilda approved of the direction their little encounter was proceeding in, certain facts needed to be starkly demonstrated before they got down to more pleasurable business.
“You need to understand a few things before we can fuck.” Said Hilda in response to Jasmine’s confused and hurt look. Before the smaller woman could muster a reply, Hilda stood up, grabbed her little backpack and swept gracefully out the front door.
Jasmine hopped up, stepped into a pair of flip-flop sandals, and followed Hilda outside to the front yard.
It was another brisk Autumn Florida evening that neatly demonstrated the state’s primary economic compartment of luring mid-westerners away from climates where deicing the dog from the front step was a regular ocurrence, to instead spend their sunset years in a more temperate environment. Bullfrogs and insects filled the air with their collective music, and the wind was just enough to keep most of the mosquitoes away.
Hilda stood silent on the front yard, seemingly letting the atmosphere of the twilight wash over her. Jasmine came up beside Hilda, although not before admiring the sight of the Velorian’s back. The peaks and ridges of Hilda’s wide back formed a beautiful landscape of muscle. Long thick legs led to a tight, toned, and trim ass like an Olympic runner.
Hilda exhaled a deep breath and said, “It feels good, being on Earth, you know.” Jasmine remained silent and allowed Hilda to continue uninterrupted.. “Earth is special to Velorians. It is the original, the origin, where we evolved and lived as regular humans before the Galen took us to the stars. Most Vels long to visit earth, and most will never get a chance.” She turned to face Jasmine, blue eyes bright in the dimming light. “Being assigned to earth, to ManHome, is a great honor and a great burden, and one that I intend to be worthy of.”
“Why are we out here, Hilda?” Asked Jasmine as she slapped at a particularly bold mosquito.
“You need to understand the extend of my powers, particularly my strength. I don’t think your house is the best spot for a demonstration. Are there any places with a bunch of spare steel nearby?”
Jasmine turned and pointed off in the distance. “There’s a junkyard off in that way, we can tak-”
The photographer found herself cradled in Hilda’s arms with the ease that a regular human would hold a small dog.
“Hilda, what th-” Jasmine began, before realizing that the ground was falling away.
Ah, Right, Hilda could fly.
Hilda could fly.
Hilda could fucking fly.
Jesus H. Christ on a unicycle, Hilda could actually fucking fly!
Suddenly Jasmine understood exactly what the oprhans in the old Peter Pan movies where they gained the ability to fly.
Jasmine thought about how the evening had started, with a vicious, angry break-up and turned into an evening of regrets, alcohol, remorse and pointless anger at the world in general and Rachael in particular when she didn’t really deserve it. She considered her current status, slowly wrapped her arms around Hilda’s thick neck and pressed her head into Hilda’s shoulder-blade. An encounter with a goddess had certainly turned what had looked to be a miserable evening into a night to remember!