The same reason most people keep me alive: my awesome dick and skill with it. Well, sorta.

Rose moves towards you as she starts to answer your question, eyes of vivid orange looking to you from beneath her long lashes and hooded lids. Her movements, as always, are odd to see as she seems to almost float over the ground, her long gown brushing at the floor as she makes her way towards you. She did not move like any other humanoid alien you'd met, but, then, you'd spent a long enough time with her in a number of different positions and state of undress to be used to the sight and to be aware of the reason for it.

"Derrick, I still think we'd be good together. We could rule these sectors of the universe with your skill and sheer stupid luck and my strength and influence.", she coos at you as she comes to stand in front of you, her full lips set into a wistful smile as she lifts one of her gloved hands to brush at your cheek softly and almost lovingly, "You'd be a worthy partner to have. I thought that before and I still think it..."

"Rose, darlin', ya don't gotta stroke my ego. It's a waste of strokin', really, since I'm already aware of how impressive a specimen of a man I am.", you quip and draw a soft laugh from her even as she shakes her head at you.

"You are an impressive specimen...but, unfortunately, you aren't a trustworthy one. I can't trust you, Derrick, and that makes it impossible for us to be together like I wanted.", she states, genuine sadness in her voice as she lets out a soft sigh and allows her hand to move up into your hair.

"Well, see, that'd hurt if I hadn't earned yer feelin' like that, Rose. But, ya know, if ya'd listened to me in the first place 'bout gettin' hitched, things mighta been different anyway.", you reply with a lopsided grin, "But that still don't answer the question I asked ya at first, sweetheart: why am I still breathin' if ya ain't lookin' to push me into a shotgun weddin' again?"

"I told you, Derrick. You're an impressive specimen.", she says, her orange eyes flashing as you suddenly feel a pair of long tentacles winding up your legs to hold you in place, "Just because I can't trust you as a husband or partner doesn't mean I don't want to keep a piece of you. If I can't have you as a partner, I'll just have the next best thing: yours and my offspring as my heir."

Your eyes widen as you look down and see two long bubble-gum pink tentacles sticking out from beneath Rose's skirt and already holding your legs in place. More tentacles yet were sliding up from beneath her skirt and you knew there were quite a few yet to make their appearance. After all, Rose was a Skyllian, a race that were as human as could be from the waist up, but whose lower bodies spread out into numerous tentacles that worked in graceful tandem to move her about. It made their movements on land look almost ethereal while their aquatic movement, as Skyllian were amphibious, was lightning quick.

"Whoa! WHOA! Rose, hold on, now, you don't mean...!", you start, but she shushes you with a soft sound from her full lips and a movement of her gloved hand to your lips even as a few more of her ambulatory tentacles move up to grasp at your flight suit and start to nimbly work at the zipper there.

"Oh, I do, Derrick. I mean to milk you for every drop of baby batter you've got in those big balls of yours and make sure I get knocked up with your offspring. I'm gonna have some fun and take some directly and, if that doesn't work, I'm gonna squeeze even more out of you and save it for later to get it done the scientific way if the good old fashioned way doesn't work.", she says as more tentacles move to start removing her own clothing, unzipping the bodice that encased her upper body to allow her large, heavy breasts to fall free and hang heavy and tempting before you rose red nipples hard and budded upon soft slopes.

"Wait, wait, wait! This ain't right, Rose! Come on, now! Ya gotta be kiddin'!", you protest in a panicked tone of voice even as your flight suit is unzipped all the way and pushed off of your shoulders and down to your waist to allow your (despite your outraged cries and protests)hard cock to be exposed.

"I'm definitely not kidding, Derrick.", she purrs as she reaches one of her hands down towards your rigid shaft and gently encircles it with leather encased fingers, which sends a shiver of pleasure through you in spite of the situation (or maybe even because of it), "Now, quit whining and playing at resisting, Halloway. Since when do you say no to getting fucked? It's not like you won't enjoy it and, besides, your mouth might say no, but this eager fellow here is saying yes, yes, yes, don't you think?"

You feel a little dirty admitting it, but she's not entirely wrong there, is she? But, still, there's the principle of the thing! But, then again, since when have you let principle stand in the way of your getting off?