Not So Different, yet as Different as Can Possibly Be

9-First Contact.

   "Do you think about me when you use it?"

   Once more, his silence gave her an answer.

   She looked at his face through the screen. "Hey, it's OK, I," she looked down in embarrassment, "I think about you too. When I, you know."

   He blinked twice in disbelief. "You, what?" He had never considered himself a desirable person, but here was the person he found so beautiful, telling him she thought about him when she got herself off.

   "I, I just think your really beautiful," she told him, "and I-"

   "You think I'm beautiful?" he asked in disbelief. No one had ever called him that, or any of the other K!ak words that meant the same thing.

   "You are the most beautiful man I've ever seen," she confessed.

   K'kacho was stunned and for a full three seconds said absolutely nothing. "I, I think your really beautiful too," he added.

   There was silence as both of them sat and felt the power those words had over them. Neither of them had felt very beautiful in their lives, but now, now they felt beautiful beyond belief. "If someone who looks like that thinks I look good, then, wow," they both thought to themselves.

   Linda coughed a little. "Hey, look, since we both think about each other whe we, you know, maybe we should, well, we really can't do it together, but maybe we can do it with each other?"

   K'kacho was severely confused, but his years of friendship meant he could read between her lines, so to speak. As such, understanding finally dawned on him. "You, you want me, us, to, erm 'play' with ourselves, in front of each other, right now?"

   She rubbed her arm, getting a little wet at the idea. "Yeah, I'd like that."

   K'kacho looked away from the camera and tapped his fingers together. "What, well, position do you want me in?"

   She opened her mouth in surprise. He actually wanted to do this? Oh my. Regaining her composure, she cleared her throat and told him how to sit.

   After a few minutes, he was sitting in his chair, his legs on either side of the computer, and the camera positioned to have a full view of his groin as well as his face. She wanted to take in every detail.

   "Strip," she told him, "start with your shirt." Something had flipped in the back of her head, seeing him like this made her feel, well, powerfull.

   Technically, his upper garment was not a shirt, but he took it off anyway. His white chest plumage was on full display, with black speckles here and there which danced across the feathers.

   He then undid his lower garment and slid it off, leaving him naked in front of her. Their conversation had gotten him hard, and the scarlet flesh of his erection contrasted greatly with the feathers that grew around the base but not the rest.

   "Wait," she asked, where are your balls?"

   "My what?"

   "You know, your testicles?"

   He was confused at this. For the !ka, that was like asking where someone's stomach was. "Inside me?" he half asked.