Close Encounters of the Seventh Kind

In the 1970s, J. Allen Hynek devised a classification system for categorising UFO encounters. There were initially three kinds of close encounters, the third being direct visual contact with extra-terrestrials. However, since then ufologists have expanded the classification system to include:

• Close Encounters of the 4th Kind - abduction by extra-terrestrials without memory of the event.
• Close Encounters of the 5th Kind - voluntary, conscious communication with extra-terrestrials.
• Close Encounters of the 6th Kind - a UFO incident causing injury or ****.
• Close Encounters of the 7th Kind - an encounter resulting in human-alien hybridisation.

But these are just **** conspiracy-theory concepts. Right?

"God, you're such a good kisser."

Roy took that as permission to move his mouth down to Estelle's pale neck, kissing and sucking on the smooth, pale skin. Estelle's hands struggled for purchase against the leather seats, her back pressed against the doorframe. He moved down to her shirt, frantically undoing the buttons to reveal Estelle's beautiful globes, held by a lacy red bra. Estelle tried to help, scrabbling at the clasp on her bra, elbows bumping against metal in the cramped space, bruising her slender arms, but she didn't seem to care. Her bared breasts gleamed in the light of the half-moon, nipples hardened against the cool air. Roy's tongue and teeth seized and teased those nipples, and Estelle let out a helpless moan.

Roy worshipped Estelle's breasts for several minutes, whilst the blonde braced herself against the interior of the pickup truck, waves of pleasure wracking her lithe body. She gazed at the farm boy's messy black hair, then at the dark New Mexico plains outside, then closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her.

"Help me take off your skirt," said Roy breathlessly. Estelle nodded eagerly, lifting her hips so he could pull the grey garment off her hips, revealing her red panties. They were lacy, skimpy, and already smelled of sex. Estelle kicked the last remnant of her waitress's uniform off, then gasped as she felt Roy's hand running over her crotch.

"Take them off," Estelle whispered, her voice catching. Roy stroked her panties a few more times, tracing the contours of her labia and her clit through the thin fabric. But he didn't have the patience either, and quickly helped Estelle to slide her panties down and off her slender legs.

"Fuck me," murmured Roy, as he gazed at her bared femininity. Two rolling pink hills protruded above her porcelain skin, with a swollen pearl at the front, nestled between the two moist flanges. There wasn't a hair visible anywhere, her skin flawless and smooth.

"I'm trying to," returned Estelle, reaching forwards to unclasp his belt. "Take off your trousers, Roy."

They struggled together to remove the farmer's heavy clothes in the cramped space, both restless and impatient. The dim moonlight cast strange shadows across their bodies, bared skin gleaming with sweat. But Estelle couldn't take her eyes off Roy's dick. Thick, long, hard, pointing right at her like a weather vane for his desire.

"Put it in me," she urged, her thighs brushing his as she turned over, kneeling on the seat with her arms looped over the back of the seat, bending her neck to avoid the truck's low ceiling. "Fuck me until I scream your name."

Roy needed no further encouragement. He took hold of Estelle's hips and shoved his cock deep into her hot, wet pussy. Her body was as tight on the inside as on the outside; it felt fucking incredible. He had had a girlfriend as a teenager in school, but she had been short and chubby and nothing like Estelle. The last five years on the farm had left him pent-up and horny, and he couldn't believe that this gorgeous blonde waitress had said yes. His cock felt at home in her warm passage, her moans a **** for his ears as he pounded into her. He grabbed one of her soft tits with a calloused hand, squeezing and grasping, and he was rewarded by Estelle's squeaks of pleasure. She turned her head back to look at him, her eyes consumed by need. They were beautiful eyes, blue-green with specks of vivid purple. He couldn't resist them. He reached forwards and kissed her lips, slamming his cock into and out of her tight pussy. The pickup truck groaned as it rocked on its rusty suspension; the air in the cabin filled with the heat and sweat of their bodies.

"Cum in me, Roy," gasped Estelle, the words a keening moan. "I need it. Cum right in my needy cunt!"

"Fuuuckk!" yelled the farm boy, as he slammed his rod deep inside Estelle's tight shaft, exploding into her womb. Estelle came with him, crying his name as her body quivered beneath him, her vagina milking his cock for every drop.

As they collapsed into the truck's seats, the thick, expectant quiet of New Mexico washed over them. The sound of empty space, interrupted only by the quiet chirping of crickets, and the heavy breaths of the two youths. The vast sky seemed to envelope the little truck, smothering it under a blanket of stars.

"You're the one," panted Estelle.

Roy looked over, surprised, but before he could reply, a bright light surrounded him. It blinded him, pouring in through the truck's dirty windows, deafening his ears with pure silence.

"What the fu-" he shouted, but suddenly the roof disappeared, and the light blasted around him from above. He tried to look upwards, uselessly trying to shield his eyes, but too soon his vision began to darken his arm grew weak, as his consciousness slipped away.