Big Bang
The table was set for two. A serenity Carol had never known before infiltrated her heated mind as she climbed on top of it. She knew instinctively what was expected of her, what her purpose was. She was no longer Carol Aird or Carol-2015 – she was Sister Carol, the sultry sex goddess the last survivors of Planet Terez had sought out to worship.
Carol lay down on the open fur coat and slid her arms inside its plush sleeves. The mink folds grazed the aroused skin like a kindle of kittens rubbing against her coy contours. The fur coat felt alive and gentle yet Carol knew it would pin her forcibly down should she try to get up before the deed was done.
Belivet checked the connection between the wired table and the cables leading to the retracted cylinder installed out on the roof. Sister Carol, Belivet transmitted gravely, I need to tie your legs down to keep you steady at all times. Having already seen it in her dream, Carol acquiesced to nod. The brunette alien proceeded to finalize the setting for what was to come.
Charged by the inevitability of their fusion, Belivet dismantled her harness and left it splayed on the floor. Her eyes turning neon green, she switched on the outdoor device that rotated its aim straight at the Lincoln Tunnel looming in the horizon. The tubes running up to Carol’s mink sleeves started blinking with rainbow colors, which made the fur suck her in even tighter.
What happened next could have been a dream or a hallucination but nothing could’ve been farther from the truth. An invisible web of silky electricity descended upon her heaving bosom casting white, flickering shadows on her smooth mounds. Gasping, Carol witnessed tiny Terezians frolicking around her peaked nipples and feasting between her breasts like pixies made of ice cubes and candle wax. Her flat stomach became The Flounder Market, her ribcage the lustful lanes of Frankenburg, and somewhere down below a hot wind sent her blonde shrub quivering in its steamy breeze. Carol relished the sight, the sensations, the sheer exuberance of being alive and being life. She was the soil her girls plowed and harvested, she was the mothership of millions of minions ready to succumb to her siren call.
By the time Belivet climbed on the table Carol was almost ready to climax out of sheer omnipotence. Still it hadn’t even begun yet – the hot fusion Carol had so eagerly awaited. Belivet’s body glowed in the dim room painting the walls and the ceiling with its blood red hue. She rose above Carol like the volcanic Mount Vulva ready to erupt all over her and spread its fiery streams along her firm fibers. The countdown was flashing on her forehead… 9 – 8 – 7… Fuu-uck, she is positively sizzling, ran across Carol’s frantic mind, and she was right: Belivet’s landing strip was befogged by puffs of steam… 6 – 5 – 4… ASSUME YOUR POSITIONS…Who installed a loudspeaker inside my head?? 3 – 2 – 1…
For a blink of an eye Carol doubted if she could take it, if her body and its innocuous inhabitants even had a chance to survive what promised to be the acme of pleasure. Her muscles tightening and her brain awhirl, she nevertheless bucked her hips to establish contact for the first time. The moment Belivet’s scorching launch vehicle hit its mesmerizing mark, Carol’s meaty missile went ballistic. Her hankering hearth aflame, the table and the chairs around it started quaking violently. All the paintings on the walls spun wildly around only to fall on the parquet their frames splintering into sharp slivers of ornate wood. Swanky wallpapers slithered down like thin, leathery snakes too languid to stand the heat. The baroque chandelier situated right over their heads rocked aggressively along their voracious thrusts. As far as the apocalyptic lovers were concerned, their first time was not for whispered sweet nothings – it was for rough everythings.
Their fused bodies weren’t the only entities heating up – barely maintaining its coordinates, the cylindrical device on the roof was turning bright red by the second. The tubes kept pumping light in it – light that had turned fluorescent and blinding. The meter attached to the cylinder had passed its yellow bars but it needed to push further, all the way into the red zone. More was needed and more was on its way.
If Carol’s encounter with the dolphin had resembled an out-of-the-body experience this one was definitely different. Belivet was no dolphin and she had no intention of staying out of Carol’s body. It was as if she dove not only inside Carol but around her as well enveloping her from each side, from front and back. Perfectly overwhelmed, Carol’s brain couldn’t handle the omnipresent stimuli at all. She was only aware of getting higher and higher like a mountaineer deprived of oxygen yet hell-bent to reach the summit of her life. Although the ascent was dizzying, the scenery made up for it thousandfold. After all she was the Sir Edmund Hillary of Sex Everest and Belivet was her Sherpa, Tenzin Norgay. Theirs was to be a life of scaling the heights of the penultimate pleasure, of sex, never rest.
The massive oak pedestal they possessed the miracle on was showing signs of fatigue under such keen grind. The hot liquid pooling out of them left immutable imprints on both the delicate grain and the voluptuous fur. The strands of mink sticking irrefutably together, the opulent spread soon resembled the slick back of a wet beaver. Yet the discharge was vital to shield Carol’s epidermis from burn marks. Their union complete, Carol couldn’t tell where she ended and Belivet began but the disorienting epiphany was enough to push her on the edge of reason.
Her eyelids fluttering, Carol saw the room change color at every blink. When she finally left them open she was staring at Belivet’s ass right in front of her eyes. Souse the core… echoed the voice of the jedi master inside her head, souse the core… She had heard it before, Carol realized – it had spoken to her all her life, built her courage whenever she had hesitated to indulge in what life had had to offer, be it a mechanical bull in a karaoke bar or the beaded seat cover in her father’s car.
The image of her unknown mother, her kindred spirit, Sister Alicia, penetrated Carol’s consciousness. The apparition wanted her to know she was sorry she had never taken part in her daughter’s life and seen her grow, never made space cookies for her high school’s bake sale. Go the distance… the answer lies on the tip of your tongue…
It did. Literally. Once she knew what had to be done she wasn’t tongue-tied anymore. Carol’s fleshy pink porpoise shooting through the extraterrestrial hoop, Belivet let out a scream primal enough to overload not only her lover’s senses but also the device raring to wreak havoc on the evil intruders. The clanging of its metal parts splitting ears, the cylinder hurled out a remorseless ray of Terezian rancor at the Lincoln tunnel turning it into mere gravel in just few seconds. Ravaged by its orgasmic launch, Belivet’s invention wheezed and stalled before dying down for good.
Silence hung heavy over their aching limbs as they lay in each other’s arms on the badly bruised table. Drenched all over, Carol clung to Belivet who kept staring at the ceiling. She must be as satisfied as I am, Carol mused enraptured. Before she had time to finish her thought, Belivet yanked her down on the floor shielding her with her own body. Shocked, Carol opened her mouth… as the heavy chandelier hit the tabletop with a loud thump. Belivet had saved her life.
Forming grateful thoughts, Carol gazed at her alien but got no response. She tried again – nothing. What in the world..?
“If you are trying to transmit something to me, it’s of no use,” Belivet said in plain English. Her beautiful voice was warm and kind.
“You speak!?” Carol exclaimed astonished. It was all she could say for now.
“I have to,” Belivet confided, “I have lost my ability to read your thoughts.” Carol didn’t detect any regret in her candid statement.
“Why? How..?” Carol’s eloquence, however, left a lot to be desired for.
“I only hope you can’t read mine either…” Belivet added quietly. Suddenly she seemed shy and unsure of herself.
Carol tried hard to figure out the meaning behind Belivet’s words but again draw a blank. “Is there a reason why we’re not able to do it anymore?”
Belivet’s face lit up. “Only one thing renders it defunct.” The petite brunette was beaming.
“What is it?” Carol hastened to ask.
“True love.”
It felt kind of nice to, well, talk, for a change, Carol thought. She had never cuddled with anyone before since her previous partners had either blissfully passed out (female lovers) or passed away (Harge) on her. It was after all very difficult to have a meaningful conversation with someone who was happily unconscious or totally lacking a pulse.
Turned out that Terezians had in fact been familiar with the concept of love although the word äfherhghsjjgagfds they used for it couldn’t be translated quite so simply. Its literal definition was more in tune with “becoming sappily fixated on one spinach chewing individual only after having been fucked senseless by the said person”, Belivet explained. Once again Carol was stunned by the progressiveness of the late Terezian Empire, by the mature insights and the advanced ideas it had so wisely embodied.
Thanks to Sister Alicia, we still have the Terezian Chronicles to abide by, Carol mused confidently. With the help of such unsurpassed, well-documented folklore, we will spread the gospel of nubile pleasure to all women in all the galaxies – orally, if need be.
When an hour had passed they grew exceedingly anxious over their sisters who had yet to return from the front line. “They should be back already,” Carol fretted wringing her hands. She may not have thought about her loved ones during the hot fusion but now her mind was wrecked with disturbing images of the collapsing tunnel and the ceaseless hail of rubble.
“Knowing Cantrell and Harrison they must’ve stayed for some extra time just to make sure the Dickheads are properly put away,” Belivet consoled her, “I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now.” Just as she had said it, they heard movement in the corridor and an eager pounding on the suite door.
“Oh my god, what happened!” Carol exclaimed when Abby, Rindy and Harrison helped Cantrell in. Wincing, the sullen warrior was in acute pain. “You are injured!” Carol screamed stating the obvious. “Did the Dickheads wound you badly?”
The trio accompanying Cantrell seemed unfazed by their comrade’s disposition. “Nah,” Abby mumbled, “She tripped on the carpet in the lobby like five minutes ago and probably just sprained her ankle…” Not giving it another thought Abby headed for the liquor cabinet.
“Sprained her ankle… SPRAINED HER ANKLE???” At first Carol didn’t know if she should be relieved or mad but luckily the former sentiment took gradually over. She fetched the ice bucket and stuck Cantrell’s foot in it.
“Sisters,” Belivet exalted, “we have emerged victorious in our final battle, and it is due to the efforts of all of us.” Her voice quivering, she appeared truly touched by their accomplishment.
Hearing her speak, Abby and Rindy exchanged puzzled glances. Cantrell and Harrison, however, started giggling shamelessly. Belivet’s in loo-ove… Belivet’s in loo-ove… they chanted in a taunting tone of thought. Blushing, Belivet bowed her head. Even if she didn’t read Carol’s mind anymore, she sure could hear her sisters’ teasing.
Only after Abby and Rindy had caught on what had happened to Belivet and Carol, the heroines of the Lincoln Tunnel shared their story with the fused couple. The Dickheads had gone berserk by the scent trail and headed straight to the tempting passageway. Once there they had gorged on the panties like rabid animals and ignored the danger that awaited them in abundance. “What a bloodcurdling sight”, Abby sighed referring to the way her favorite embroidered Brazilian briefs had been ripped in shreds under her very eyes. When Belivet’s cylinder had finally roared and brought the tunnel down with its boundless torrent of sexual frenzy, they had felt rightfully vindicated.
The sole survivors who had attempted to crawl from under the rubble had been efficiently dealt with, Harrison elaborated. Rindy especially had proven out to be a real asset. I wish you’d seen how she operated the handgun, she gushed over her human, it was as if she’d been doing it her entire life. Hearing Harrison’s compliment, Rindy coughed and tried not to look at her mother.
“What now?” Rindy asked hoping to change the subject. “Where do we go from here?” She looked around the ravaged suite. “It’s obvious we can’t stay here for too long.” Remembering her credit card balance, Abby let out a sad sigh. Suddenly the idea of another galaxy made perfect sense to her.
“We will have to start anew,” Carol declared, “rebuild the Terezian utopia from scratch according to the principles handed down to us by Sister Alicia and her predecessors.” Where and how they would bring it about was yet unclear to her, though. “Belivet, my love, do you have any suggestions as how to proceed with this master plan?”
A sly smile lingered on Belivet’s luscious lips. “I believe I do. I happen to know the perfect place for our rebirth…” She was relishing the moment, the keen attention of her avid listeners.
“But we won’t all fit into CMORGAN-1921 even if we would get it up and running,” Carol pointed out. They were missing a space ship and, more importantly, the knowledge of any suitable planet anywhere out there…
“We won’t need a rocket to relaunch our utopia since we won’t be leaving Earth behind.” Belivet’s mysterious words echoing in their ears, the others stared at her in eager anticipation. “We will resettle to the most harmonious, to the most perfect corner of this human world…” The room was suddenly filled with rosy haze and the first bars of the anthem they would soon be humming in their brave hearts. O Canada!
“Oh… goody,” Abby commented her mind flooded with erotic scenarios exploiting maple syrup. “Canadian women are hot.”
Although surprised, Carol seemed to take a liking to Belivet’s idea. But would the Canadian women really follow her to the insatiable lesbian utopia she had in store for them? Would they be willing to satisfy a striking blonde who could have graced any movie screen in an Oscar-worthy way? I suppose they would. “Okay, Canada it is… I’ll call Justin.”
Before she had a chance to make the call Abby stopped her. “Not so fast, my friend…” There was still unfinished business between the two of them. “I recall a certain promise you made,” she said to Carol, “and I fully expect you to live up to it.”
Grinning, Carol squeezed her hands warmly. “I haven’t forgotten, dear Abigail, but should you prefer something even better, I have a proposition for you…” Abby was all ears. “I’m thinking of appointing you the Acting Commander of Terez 2.0, the bias being on the act…” Carol was wiggling her eyebrows. “We need someone to see to the recruiting and you, my dear, would be the ideal person for the job.”
Needless to say, Abby’s interest was piqued. “Do you mean that I get to..?” she was too excited to complete her sentence. “Am I to select the women and..? Deeply moved by Carol’s trust, she was gasping for air. “Cantrell could be my right hand… extra hands are good, you know,” she concluded beaming at her equally enthusiastic warrior.
“Yes, you get to do all that,” Carol confirmed. She was overjoyed to see her friend so pumped up by her new prospects.
“And you even get to use this while picking the settlers,” Belivet quipped handing the one last item from the Todd-1961 – the Erotoscope. “Cantrell’s pretty good with it but something tells me you might be even better.” By now Abby was shedding tears of joy.
“Canada awaits but right now we need recharging and some TLC – tender, loving calibration,” Carol decided. “And Rindy…” she went on apprehensively, “as a token of my undying love for you and as an award for your valor in combat I’d like you to have this.” She was holding the dolphin. “Have a whale of a time.” The expression on her daughter’s face reminded Carol of many happy Christmases.
As they were about to retreat to their rooms Abby’s phone started buzzing. “Hello?” she greeted the caller. “What? When? Really..? Aww… that’s wonderful! Thanks so much for letting me know.” Beaming, Abby put the cell away and shared her happy news: Mrs. Frittenhoff had dropped all charges against Mr. Oliver, and that was not all – Carol’s advice had forced Mrs. Frittenhoff to face her true feelings, which had subsequently led her to see Mr. Oliver in a totally different light. Two days ago they had been married in the Roswell City Hall and right now they were honeymooning in Aruba.
All hail Sister Carol!