The Last Son

2

"Wake up sleeping beauty,"

My senses are back in an instant and I sit up abruptly, thinking about a handful of young adults who would love to watch me take my last breath, but it's not any of those males who woke me up, no. The faint glow of purple and blue fills the small tree house and my eyes widen when I see a certain dark curl appear from the door on the floor.

"Time to play," Mischievous is clear both in her tone and the way she smiles. As if the brightness from her veins which illuminates her surroundings isn't enough, her brilliant smirk surely shines everything else and more. She means trouble, she brings trouble, but for the prosperity of all beings, trouble never looks so irresistible.

At least she doesn't try to conceal it, which I can't say the same with myself. It's impossible to look at her without thinking about things I shouldn't be thinking to do with her. Although my jaw is glued shut, my penises can do all the talking—or moving in this case.

She easily maneuvers herself inside, crawling on four so seductively to get closer to me. Long curls sway and bounce as she inches closer, the air gets electric and I'm not talking about those electric ribbons coming out of her skin. Outside is still dark but I can hear birds start chirping the new day's song from afar. Dawn is coming, and it brings the Queen of Seduction with it.

But now, all I can hear is the sound of my blood rushing downwards between my legs.

Her breast hangs as she gets closer and closer, I can see perfectly clear the perfectly round shape of them, the inviting valley between them, with the swell of her hips behind following her every move. The creator must have been in the mood to curse and bless the rest of his creation when he created her, such irresistible beauty covering endless troubles.

"I could barely sleep last night, thinking about you," Mary says with a particularly dangerous glint in her eyes, with her voice low, inviting, initiating. The moment her fingers touch my ankle, I feel electricity to the top of my head, frying my brain dead. I'm unable to think clearly. She is warm and I'm that stupid insect back home who was always attracted to fire and ended up burned.

But of course, she is oblivious to what is happening inside me, she is having too much fun expressing herself, without knowing that I long for the same thing. I don't think she cares anyway. She told me before what she wants from me, and I won't lie, I want that from her too. But it's hard to gamble my feelings with her, especially when I know that I will lose anyway.

If I get her, I might get killed by her brothers.

If I don't get her, I might kill myself.

Then up she crawls, to my knees, to my thighs, at this moment she is much more prepared for the commotion going on between my legs. Instead of feeling surprised, she just bites her lips so as not to squeal from excitement. Doesn't she know how my kind reproduces? I hope if I ever get the chance, she won't mind a little party in her because I'm dying to feel her around me.

She then expertly throws her legs to my sides, pushing my chest hard so I don't have any other choice but to fall back to the soft blanket underneath me. My head hit the floor, it should have been hurt, but my brain is too busy on something else. Something else which seems to be much more interesting.

Like how perfectly round her breasts are, and they look soft too.

"Now," She whispers, "Where were we?"

My hands are fisting the fabric below me. The only thing stopping me from flipping her on her back—or on her stomach, it doesn't matter to me—is the knowledge that I still need her brothers and possibly father to help me get out of this planet, preferably alive.