Procerita stepped out of the restroom, once again greeted by the beautiful streets of Sanguis. She had never realized how much she missed it here over the last few weeks.
She took off back towards her home, confidence in every stride.
Of course, no one knew about the human in the back of her sundress, pressed right up against her asshole, sending wondrous jolts up her spine with his every movement.
Of course, he did say front, but she had already made up her mind by that point.
…
As it turns out, Procerita’s undergarments were unreasonably tight on her crack, causing Max’s body to be pushed right against her hole.
“When will I learn to keep my damn mouth shut?”, Max talked to himself, staring down at the Glalan’s pucker against his chest. The area was dark and incredibly humid. The centre of her anus was easily the darkest area in terms of both pigmentation and lighting.
The wrinkly mass was thankfully still clean from her bath, but it was not without a distinct bitter smell or the presence of natural oils or sweat. It seemed to be more potent as well, likely as a result of the hot Glalan Prime weather and the area being increasingly humid.
The smell wasn’t exactly throw-up level of bad, but it certainly was by no means pleasant.
Procerita’s rear gently swayed side to side with her every movement, her steps causing her cheeks and anus to grind and rub on the human.
Every movement he made was noticed by the sensitive muscles which would quickly react with rapid twitching movements, rubbing natural oils all over his new clothes as if they were a napkin for the anal maw.
As he tried to ease himself into a comfortable position to at least get some shut-eye, he noticed Procerita had stopped moving.
…
Procerita stared at a poster. Her fingers twitched at her sides.
The Viriditas’ championship. The only official arena in which fighters were allowed to fight to the death. The current tournament was between Sanguis and Calamus, the two capital cities of Glalan Prime and Glalan Mu accordingly. Mu was far less technologically developed, but made up for it with some of the most well-developed hand-to-hand combat in the galaxy.
The tournament would have the people of Sanguis and Calamus fight for the sole champion of their city, and would then send those champions to the Viriditas to entertain it.
Procerita’s heart was practically screaming at her to join, her most primal physiology begging to be entertained. The thought made her unconsciously tense her muscles.
Feeling Max’s immediate reaction to the sudden grip against her anus took her out of her head and forcing her to stifle a moan.
She quickly put the contact information into her wrist computer and started heading home.
…
Glalan Prime was a place that was not entirely foreign to Timet, having travelled once with his sister.
Looking out the window at the sun, he noticed it was lower in the sky, around dinner time. He had managed to use whatever was in the fridge to make a dinner for when the Glalan and human returned in the hopes it would help his odds.
Thankfully the ceiling was quite high, so the only issue was the low counter while he was cooking.
The endless unpleasant possibilities constantly plagued his mind. Would they sell him into slavery? Expose him to the pirates? Simply abandon him?
A buzz interrupted his return into pessimism, causing Timet to jump in surprise. He quickly composed himself and stood straight up.
The door slid open, letting the Glalan step through. The Abbadan immediately took notice of her new outfit. A simple light coloured sundress with no patterning.
He cleared his throat. “I made dinner.” He spoke quietly, losing his voice from fear.
Procerita looked up, surprised. “Oh. Thanks!”
Timet looked at her inquisitively. “Where is your human companion?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll go grab him.”
Timet was confused by this. He could have sworn he saw him leaving with her.
The Glalan’s door shut, followed by a click from the lock.
It took a few minutes, and he could have sworn he had heard giggling and running water. What the hell was going on in there?
Procerita’s door clicked, the Abbadan quickly straightening his back and putting his arms behind himself to look respectable.
The Catgirl walked through the door, pushing it open with her hips, her tail swishing behind her. Max was in her open palm.
Timet pulled out a chair for Procerita and stepped away.
Max looked at the plate of food. On it was a cut of meat reminiscent of a salmon, only purple. Additionally, there was a small pile of snail-like things with pointed shells, oil was pooling below them. Although it was completely foreign and dozens of times his size, it looked quite appetizing. However, interestingly, there was nothing in the regard of vegetables, even as a side dish.
“Procerita?” Max caught the Glalan’s attention, “do Glalans eat fruit?”
“Nope, carnivores only. Can’t digest fruit at all.”
“So… are you certain you aren’t at all related to earth cats?” Max had gone over this many times, but he was absolutely certain that Glalans had to be related to cats.
Procerita, on the other hand, was absolutely certain that Glalans weren’t related to cats, but were simply a result of convergent evolution. “For the last time, I’m not related to those fucking earth cats!” She groaned, annoyed, her outburst startling Timet. “Sorry. Max has just been really annoying me with this.” She apologized.
The Glalan quickly took her seat, letting Max hop down to the table. “Holy shit. This looks great! Where’d you find this?” She said, eyeing the plate.
“It was in your fridge. It wasn’t for a party or anything, right?” Timet answered, a bit of fear in his tone.
“I don’t think so…” Procerita replied. “Whatever!” She shrugged and grabbed her utensils.