She sensed nervousness tinged with concern from its stupid open mind. Maybe she was more or less safe at the moment. It looked muscled and strong, but...it would be no match for her superior intelligence and speed. Still, she would wait to see what would transpire.Tristan stood in the doorway, unsure how to proceed. At least the random jumble of thoughts had ceased. The alien turned to him and sat up. He stifled a gasp; her eyes! They were large, like the exaggerated eyes of a Disney cartoon. . . and what kind of business is that?" mom inquired."Uh . . . mostly international trade." I replied. I couldn't think of anything better to say but I thought it sounded convincing. Mom released her hold on me and padded to the large bed; I gawked at how her hips gently swayed, accentuating the rise and fall of her perfectly round globes. She bent at the waist to brush the bedsheet in an attempt to make it more presentable; satisfied with the result, she parked her soft, fleshy rear on the. I knew she hadn't gotten any since her college professor boyfriend, Ronnie, had left for a sabbatical to Egypt. I once caught her rubbing herself on the desk when I came back early from lunch. We never mentioned it to each other.I knew she was mortified.I asked Veronica to come with me to Slick Willie's place. He had a pool hall/bar/juke box dance room place just below 23rd Street. His clientele were a mixed breed of whores, pimps, con artists, gamblers, and hustlers. It used to be a pretty. Martin, 'why are you still wairing your football socks from this morning, they must be a bit sweaty by now'. Martin replied, 'I like the feel of them pulled up my legs, like stockings'. I asked 'do you like sweaty socks' Martin replied by taking my shoe and undoing the laces. He put my shoe up against his nose and sniffed. I then kicked off my other shoe and shoved both my white sports socks onto Martins face. I grabbed his shoes and licked at the leather before taking them off and sniffing.
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