Page 15 of Her Alien Spy

The main building reminded her of the movies she’d seen that depicted early 20th century casinos on Earth, but with a focus on some of the more sensual pleasures. The hour she’d spent kneeling on a cushion at “Savis’s” feet had given Julia plenty of time to scope the area out. One back corner of the enormous space, where Andethor currently sat in one of the deep red, plush armchairs, carelessly toying with her hair while she rested her cheek on his thigh and rubbed his other thigh with her hand, was populated with an arrangement of chairs and sofas. Around them, other couples and trios (or more) either sat quietly, as they were, or did other more X-rated things that Julia tried not to watch.

She could also see why Andethor had chosen this spot. As he sat lazily in the chair, with a pair of dark, ridiculous glasses on,he could scope out the entirety of the area while looking like they were merely relaxing after their trip to the planet.

The main part of the center of the space was taken up with gambling. Table games that looked similar to what she’d seen on earth, with couples around them gambling, laughing, cheering, and talking. Andethor had explained that they weren’t gambling for money, but as a way to add to the excitement of their trip. Apparently the prizes for winning had to do with things one wanted their partner to do for them.

Music filled the area, coming from the other large area past the gaming tables, where a sultry singer performed on stage and couples danced on a dark dance floor. The floor was ringed with smaller platforms where exotic dancers performed to the music.

The only other thing of note was a large bar area in the corner opposite where Andethor and Julia were settled. Servers constantly went back and forth, bringing drinks from the bar to other parts of the area.

“Come up here. I want you on my lap,” Andethor said in his bored Savis voice, and Julia nodded, slowly rising to her feet, trying to hide the wince.

Forty-something knees weren’t great at kneeling on for an hour.

“Yes, sir,” Julia said in her soft plaything voice. He opened his arm, and she settled across his lap, her arm slung over his shoulders, her legs across his thigh. One of his hands immediately buried itself in her hair, and she did her best not to moan when he gave it a little tug. His other hand rested high on her thigh, on her bare skin where her short skirt had ridden up.

Andethor tilted his head to the side. “You know what I like, toy,” he said, guiding her face to the side of his neck, and she immediately started nuzzling and kissing just below his ear.

She was rewarded with a low growl that may or may not have been in character.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and she knew then it was Andethor and not Savis saying it. He cleared his throat, squeezing her thigh. “That’s our man. By the big card table with the Cenilax dealer. Wearing black from head to toe like an asshole,” he said in a low voice, gripping her hair, gently tilting her head so she could see while making it look like he was positioning her the way he desired.

She spotted him. Like the Paraxians she’d seen on Asterion Station before, he had bright white hair and tawny skin. Dressed, as Andethor had pointed out, in a black suit, black shirt. But where the Paraxians she’d seen were often lean and powerful, this one looked almost sickly. He had a too-thin, pinched look about him. He was focused on the cards the dealer was passing out to everyone at the table.

“You often wear black from head to toe,” she murmured, gently nipping the side of his neck, and he grunted.

“Yeah but I make it look good,” he murmured while rubbing her thigh, still gripping her hair. “Don’t I?”

She laughed softly, licking just below his ear.

Why did he have to taste so good? She could have spent hours nuzzled there, kissing and licking and nibbling him, hearing him groan for her, listening to those shaky breaths as she affected him.

“You do. And you already know that,” she murmured against his skin. He squeezed her thigh in response, and she felt the effect she was having on him pressing into the back of her other thigh.

“Gonna need a cold shower when we get back to our cabin,” he muttered.

She laughed softly. “Want me to stop?”

“Fuck, no,” he growled, gripping her hair a little tighter, and she laughed against his skin.

Just a role. Playing a role. Helping Andethor.

She was very, very helpful.

Even she could barely take herself seriously. She sucked on the skin just beneath his earlobe.

“I don’t see a partner with him.”

“No. But, he can pay for a few hours of fun here if he wants it. And, some people prefer that. The excitement of paying for it, of having a new plaything every few hours if they want it.”

She nodded. “What do you think of that?” The question was out before she even knew she was asking it.

He squeezed her thigh. “Not for me. I did it once when I was young and stupid, just because it seemed like something to try. No challenge in it, no fun. And there’s something depressing about a woman pretending to enjoy your touch so you tip her better.”

She squeezed his side. And here they were, pretending.

Except… not. She very much liked his touch.

She pressed a soft kiss to his earlobe, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly against him.

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