Falling Star

When Station Commander Barbie LeGrande and the other two had first gone outside into the perpetual black night of the Antarctic winter, they turned to the general direction of the approaching aircraft. After a few moments Becky exclaimed, "There! Over there." The other two looked in the area of the sky where Becky was pointing, Barbie with a pair of binoculars to her eyes.

But instead of the small flashing navigational lights they were expecting, they saw instead a bright pinpoint of yellow. A pinpoint that grew brighter and bigger with every passing second. The light seemed to be getting lower and lower in the sky and soon the three female scientists were looking at a streaking object with a comet-like tail. It whizzed across their view, from right to left, dropping earthward. It faded from view and almost immediately they heard an explosion accompanied by a flash of light in the distance.

"Come on!" Barbie barked, "back inside. Becky, get one of the land rovers ready. Sarah, grab a camera along with your medical bag." Sarah Attwood was an M.D.

Once inside, Barbie grabbed a Geiger counter and an armload of blankets before leaving the day room for the garage. Becky had one of the two land rovers running and once Barbie had climbed in, the team took off. Just minutes later the station commander, her blue eyes scanning the dark horizon, said, "Better slow down, Becky. We should be getting close to the drop-off." The station was on a plateau ten feet over the plain to the west. Becky did as told, and soon their head-lights revealed the precipice. As Becky turned the wheel to the left, intending to drive the fifteen miles or so to where the plateau joined the plain, Barbie jotted down the odometer's reading. When they turned back to the right, they would know how far to travel to put them back on their original course. They could head off at an angle, it would be shorter, but in the dark and not sure how far the airplane had traveled before coming to ground -- assuming it was a plane and not a meteor -- it would be easy not to find it.

About an hour after they had left, they saw it. Buried in a large snow bank was a faint gleam. Despite having been encased in the frozen substance for this long, the aircraft was still hot enough to be glowing like an ember. "Doubt if anyone could have survived that," Sarah commented. The other two glumly nodded in agreement.

When they stopped in front of the wreckage and got out, the headlights of the land rover illuminating the crash site, Becky exclaimed, "Holy Shit! What is that?"

No one had a ready answer. The blacken ember did not look like any plane they had ever seen. No wings, no tail, and what they could only assume to be the fuselage was circular. "It looks like..." Sarah hesitated to complete her statement. "It looks like a flying saucer."

***** ***** *****

April Nelson was still lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, a pool of sticky, grayish slime near her mouth when her station-mates returned.

"April!" station commander Barbie cried when she saw the Communications Officer and ran to squat down beside her. Sarah, the Doctor, knelt down on the other side, cradling April's head and beginning to examine her. "We need to contact Little America," Barbie said, aware that April was in no condition to do so.

"I'll do it!" Becky said, pushing back the hood of her parker before tugging the heavy jacket off.

Sarah got April over to an over-stuffed armchair as Barbie hurriedly made tea. Eventually, with sobs and gasps, April began to recount her ordeal. The other three willingly believed the strange sounding story as truth. After all, only an hour ago they had encountered what they were now slowly beginning to accept as a flying saucer. On the way back, the three female scientists had figured the craft had to be some sort of Air **** experimental vehicle. A conclusion reached despite the absence of any markings or their inability to open the conveyance. But April's mental state, coupled with the bruising around her temples and chin, the swollenness of her lips were causing them to reform their hypothesis.

"Commander, I can't seem to raise Little America," Becky Cambridge called back over her shoulder. Barbie left the injured April to look at the radio set, but from her chair April said, "It's not transmitting."

She stood up, brushing aside the Doctor's attempts to restrain her, and stumbled over to the console. "There is no carrier wave," April turned some dials and flipped some switches.

"Can you fix it?" Barbie asked. Despite her concern for April, the station commander was more concerned with the radio. That radio was their only link to the outside world. Already April was working on it, unscrewing a side panel. The condition of the radio was over-riding April's trauma. Like her commander, and everyone else in the room, she knew the gravity of their loss of communication.

"Alright," Barbie said, at last snapping into action as the team-leader. "Sarah, you stay here with April. Becky, come with me to the weapon's locker."

Just hearing Barbie say the words "weapon's locker" seemed to fortify everyone. Yes, they were scientists and females, but they were also (temporarily) Commissioned Officers in the United States Navy. They would fight back.

The weapon's locker was located in the garage bay, and Barbie had to fumble through her ring of keys to find the one that unlocked the padlock on the hasp. No sooner had she opened the door and stepped inside than she heard a loud 'thump' behind her accompanied with a muted "Ooft!" Turning around, Barbie saw Becky on the floor and the thing that April had described standing inside the doorway to the locker. The station commander quickly reached for a rifle, but the creature was quicker. As Barbie pulled back the bolt to put a round in the chamber and lifted the weapon to her shoulder, the creature grabbed the muzzle of the rifle and jerked it from her grip. With a back-handed motion, the thing 'bitch-slapped' the station commander, sending her flying across the small closet-like room and striking her head against a shelf. Barbie lost consciousness and sank to the floor.

Becky, on the other hand, who had also been slapped upside the head by the creature and was stunned, was struggling to push herself up from her face-down position on the floor. As she tried to get up on all fours, she felt something tugging on the back of her parker, pulling her up on her knees. Her mouth gaped and her eyes widen in terror when she saw the monster, more frightening in real-life than he had seemed in April's story. But before she could form any other thoughts, her mouth was invaded by an inhumanly thick alien dick. The slab of cock-meat stretched Becky's lips, threatening to rip them, as she was fed a prick bigger than anything she had ever encountered before.

Her muffled groans and wildly flailing arms and hands did nothing to deter the beast. He just stood hunched over her, his feet planted wide apart, and his throbbing cock pistoning in and out of her mouth. Becky thought her eyes would pop out of their sockets when the creature's wang slid down her throat. She struggled for air, desperately trying to breathe, as the alien being swabbed her throat with his male-meat. When that thick tallywacker slid back out of her throat, Becky gasped for air. But the reprieve was short-lived. Immediately that meat-stick was shoved back down her throat, her nose pressed against his abdomen and his big balls against her chin. In and out. In and out. The monster held the writhing young woman between his wide, powerful hands. Her efforts at resistance were futile. He just throat-fucked her as calmly and easily as he had poor April.

Becky was on the verge of passing out when she felt the cock invading her mouth and throat beginning to twitch and spasm. In a panic, she realized what was happening. The bastard was cumming down her throat, pumping her belly full of his alien seed. With renewed energy she tried to escape his clutches, but the monster's orgasm continued. His balls twitched and bounced as he unloaded inside Becky's throat. With the lack of air, Becky began to black out, just as the last of the creature's nut-cream was flowing from his testicles.