Toby gets shy

Toby turns around to face you. He begins running his hands down your curvy body. You shudder and feel yourself responding, despite your inclinations, to his familiar touch and smell. Your body definitely wants him. But is this really a good idea? You start to pull away.

"C'mon, baby," Toby says. "It's nothing we haven't done before."

You snort. "You're not the one they're trying to get pregnant."

But he's so damn persuasive. It's one of the reasons, ironically, you broke up with him—he kept convincing you to do stupid shit. Nothing quite so stupid as somehow getting locked in an alien breeding zoo. But when you're with Toby, anything seems possible, and too many things make more sense.

He presses on, pulling you tight against his body and sliding a finger across your cunt. Your lips, wet and ready, part willingly to his touch, and he quickly finds your clit. "Fuck," you moan, pressing your head against his chest.

"That's the idea," Toby says.

Fine. Have it that way. Why not? "OK."

You lie on your back and spread your legs, taking over the manual stimulation while you wait for Toby to join you. In this position, the aliens on the ramp above your enclosure have a perfect view of your anatomy and what you're doing to it. With your free hand, you absently begin to play with your nipple, more out of habit than anything else.

Indeed, now that you're getting into it, you could likely go most of the day like this—no man required. You're quite proficient at masturbating, if you say so yourself, and despite the lack of a vibrator to assist, you're pretty sure you could come right here, right now. Or in an hour. Or three. Why rush things? It's not like you need to be anywhere.

This lack of urgency stokes your arousal. You feel your core tighten as you clench your cunt around a non-existent cock, and you let out another moan. An entire afternoon of just lying around and pleasuring yourself—like you would ever have the time to do that back home. Maybe this place has its advantages after all.

Worse—or better?—still, the idea of hundreds of strangers—aliens—watching you is also making you wet. You wonder what sex is like for them, that humans are such exotic creatures worthy of this attention. Somewhere unbidden from the depths of your mind, an image appears of you being fucked mercilessly by an alien with an engorged, unyielding dick. You shudder, half in revulsion and half in curiosity.

These thoughts distract you, and you sink deeper into your reverie. So it takes you a few minutes to notice that Toby is absent. "Toby?" You open your eyes.

"I don't know—uh, I'm not sure what's wrong." Toby is kneeling in front of you, but instead of putting the moves on you like the rapacious boytoy he is, he's just clutching his cock. Because it's limp.

"Oh," you say, allowing your mouth to form a perfect circle, briefly wishing you had a cock to wrap your lips around. "But you were hard a moment ago. What happened?" Toby shrugs, then he glances back at their audience. You roll your eyes. "So you're telling me you're down with the idea of being in a zoo exhibit, but your manhood is embarrassed?"

"It's not like we've ever done it in front of people before, let alone aliens! This isn't exactly a normal situation!"

You're surprised that you feel not a twinge of sympathy or pity for the man. But here you are, hot and ready, so to speak, your engine running but with nowhere to go. Are you just expected to get yourself off in front of everywhere while Toby sits there like a kid in a time-out?