A long goodbye and a ride through the sky.

FLASH!

Pascal winced as an old-timey camera popped off to the side. A feathery big-boobed harpy, young and excited, grinned triumphantly at having captured the afterglow moment of Rigzy holding her cum-stained breasts across from the human's spent dick. "Score!" And then she flapped up into the air and took off past the roofs of the street buildings, presumably to get her prize photo developed.

Rigzy and Pascal looked at each other and shared a 'Well that just happened' chuckle. Pascal finally got enough self-awareness to realize he was still sitting on the elf's boobs, and quickly got back up, turning around to face her. "Sorry about that, ah... I never got your name, either."

The elf woman looked surprisingly serene, her hands rubbing where Pascal had sat, as though savoring his lingering body warmth. After a couple moments of silence, she opened her eyes lovingly up at him. "No need, human. I am sure we will cross paths again. As long as you are embraced in the warmth of blessed, holy busts, that is more than enough for me."

Pascal was more than a little bewildered by this response (even if the airy, self-serious boob-talk pushed a button for him). Rigzy tapped his hip to get his attention and held up his discarded sweatpants and underwear. "Don't worry about elves, bud. Some of 'em have been alive so long that they remember when there used to be native males." Pascal took his clothing, and Rigzy made a spinning motion around her long, pointed ear. "Makes 'em a little coocoo."

He nodded nervously and started putting on his clothing. The elf continued to kneel and rub her bust, the nipples beneath her silk top still leaking milk that stained the fabric. She didn't seem to have any care in the world.

With his clothes finally reacquired, Pascal turned towards the aliens and their flying car. The turtle woman nodded and grumbled, "Finally. Least we got a show," as she climbed into the futuristic vehicle.

Pascal started to walk towards the car, but a bunch of the other fantasy women crowding around the market street ran up to him, pulling off their tops and baring their breasts to him. "Don't go just yet!" "Give us a goodbye grope, at least!" "Promise you'll come back!" "You'll always have a place with us, human!" they all pleaded simultaneously ad nauseum.

Being the sort of man who couldn't bear to let anyone down, let alone a bunch of red-hot women, Pascal ran his hands along two rows of bare busts. Ranging from big to humongous, from soft to firm, from supple to furry to scaly, Pascal touched more titflesh than most men ever had in their entire lives in the span of ten seconds, the time it took to reach the car and the gray alien ambassador.

When he approached, the gray alien smiled down at him, pressing her hands together under her bust politely. "It may help if you give them some parting words, Mr. Pascal," she advised.

Pascal gulped and turned around, facing dozens of smiling, hopeful faces atop dozens of massive, heaving tits. What could he possibly say when his body was surging with raw animalistic lust? His higher thought processes were severely impaired at the moment! Going purely off the top of his head, he gave them all a wave and loudly said, "I'm... amazed to meet you all! So amazed that I... need a moment to catch my breath, really." Thankfully, that got a few chuckles from the crowd, who could clearly see how much lust was on his face. "I promise I'll come back and visit another time! Thank you all for being so kind and... welcoming!"

The street erupted into a roaring wave of women cheering. Overwhelmed by the attention and pressure, Pascal turned away toward the car. The gray alien had already opened up the rear passenger door, so he stepped inside.

His skin tingled as he crossed the threshold of the vehicle, as though he was stepping through a wall of faint static.

Whereas from outside the skycar had looked like the equivalent to a patrol car, the inside was a lot bigger. It was a lot more like a limousine. The turtle woman was seated at the front before a digital screen of controls, while the back portion of the vehicle was spacious, with a sofa along the walls that wrapped around the three walls with plenty of room for multiple passengers. Even though Pascal had ducked his head to get through the door, the inside was tall enough that he could stand upright and still have plenty of headroom. His initial guess had been right: Space-compression technology.

The gray alien came in after him, breasts-first, ducking down low and then sitting down on the portion of the sofa nearest the door. Even though she was much taller than him, it looked as though even she could stand comfortably in the middle of the car if she wanted to. The vertical door closed automatically behind her and hissed as it sealed into place. The din of the crowd outside quieted to almost nothing. "Please, Mr. Pascal, take a seat. I'm sure that was an overwhelming experience - you must be exhausted."

She was right. Pascal's heart had been racing the whole time, and he suddenly took a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His anxious ass did not do super well with crowds and public pressure. The quiet was a much-needed reprieve.

He sat down across from the gray alien, and quickly became aware of how her breasts nearly touched his knees, even though she wasn't even leaning forward. The large space of the car had suddenly become small again.

The skycar hummed to life, the jets beneath the car pushing them up into the air. Pascal could only barely feel the inertia; it was nothing like riding a modern plane. Only a glance out the forward windows told him that they had taken flight at all. The back of the skycar was completely solid, though it looked like there were some frames for digital screens set against the metal that were currently off.

"Would it be alright with you, dear human, if we took the scenic route to the Mayor's estate?" the gray alien asked in her wizened yet smooth, calming voice. "It could give you some time to catch your breath before what will no doubt be a blitz of questions and answers with Mayor Scarlet."

Ever the yes-man, Pascal just nodded. The part of his observational brain that had been lagging behind due to bewilderment and adrenaline caught up and reminded him that he was sitting across from a flesh and blood alien species.

With giant ti-

YES, with giant tits, but also a real-life alien!

The gray alien smiled and looked towards the armored turtle woman driving. "The scenic route, Ms. Shelly. And set the chronodile to, say, 25%."

"Roger," was all the answer she got back, as grumbly as ever. She tapped a few holographic buttons on the console in front of her, and there was a slight shift in the skycar's momentum.

Pascal looked at his fellow passenger with curiosity. "'Chronodile'?"

"Shorthand for 'Chronometric Dilation,'" the gray alien woman responded with a subtly proud smile. "For every four minutes that pass in here, one minute passes out there. That way, no one can accuse us of stalling for time taking laps above the city. As far as anyone else is concerned, we took the direct route."

Even though you're literally stalling time, the snarky part of Pascal's brain remarked, having finally caught up with the rest of his gray matter.

The alien put a hand on her massive, massive chest and frowned. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Pascal, I haven't had time to formally introduce myself. I am Gai-Galactic Liaison Hephzia. Though since you are technically not a citizen but rather a special guest, you may simply call me Hephzia, or Heph, or Zia, or Zee," she added with a friendly, broadening smile. "I handle matters of diplomatic relations here on Gaia and in this city of Nestledeep, representing the Paizurian Federation, of course. But for you, think of me simply as your connection to the rest of the galactic community. Whatever you need, whatever you want, we are here to provide."

So she's a diplomat, huh? Damn, she's good, Pascal noted, feeling charmed already by Hephzia's almost motherly posture. ...Wait, did she really just say 'Paizurian Federation'??