Fucked Four Ways from Sunday

Story by TheXenoFucker on SoFurry

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#1 of Erotica and Smut

Gentlemen. I figured, to start this folder off right, this dirty, kinky little sex romp folder, I'd start with my all time favorite alien and what they could do that would be oh so fantastic.

So. I hope you folks enjoy this experiment. The first or more to come no doubt. I seem to have a hang up on Sangheili ladies recently.


Before you, resting down on the floor, on her knees, or as close as she could get to her knees, having an extra joint in them which caused her to rest and tilt her legs sideways, flaring her oh so curved hips outward even more, is a sangheilian woman. Renowned for their stubbornness, their fighting prowess, and their love of battle. Of course, naturally, Sangheilian women never served in the military, not in direct combat roles anyway.

But all of them were fighters to their double set of hearts. And this one, was no exception. But she was no enemy to be sure. In fact, this was routine business. Something she'd come to enjoy with you and something you loved to give, because staring at her as she rested on the floor below, still wearing most of her armour, even the protective mandible guards across her face, it was always a pleasure to do this.

At first one would think that rows of sharpened teeth belonging to a carnivore, and a few rows in the back for plants, spread out across four, strong hinged jaws would be uncomfortable. On the contrary. And the setup was perfect, as usual. Torso armour removed. Token, skin tight under suit partially opened, revealing those luscious orbs, squished together tightly under the suit, just begging to be freed.

A real find, this one. Sangheili came in many variations, just like Humans. Some had mildly different forms of biology over others. Scales. Patches of scales. Tough leathery skin. Smooth skin. Darker shades between grey and sandy browns. Her skin was smooth, a standard medium grey, not too dark, not too bright, and staring at her cleavage, that smooth skin that was mildly marked with the equivalent of Sangheilian freckles, small little dark blotches and dots, sparked wondrous ideas.

Her hands were bound. She always agreed to this because she liked this. Her hands were bound and right now, if you wanted to, you could stick and slide your cock right down the crevice of her cleavage that was pressed and smooshed together so tightly by her constricting suit. You could cum down in between those soft orbs and let it all slide down the tight confines of her suit and across her stomach, which was clearly defined and shaped, even through her suit.

Trailing farther down past her navel, to hips that flared dramatically because of her powerful leg structure, was the token camel toe so often caused by the skin tight suit that under layered her armour. You could grip her hips, those curved, flared hips, feel the soft, almost leathery quality to her under suit as you ground against that visible ridge. Or you could tear it open, just enough to slide into those tight confines, and have her wrap those legs, strong and curved around you as she was made a prisoner to lust and wanting just you alone.

But no. Not just yet.

Your gaze arrives back at two alien eyes, golden orange, sharpened irises belonging to a predator, looking up towards you as she waits. She knows exactly what you're after. And you know that she won't give it up so easily. But trailing down the curves of her body, distinctly alien but alluring in its own right, you can't help but find yourself ready.

Funny thing, Sangheilian armour. It always seemed so fashionable. One part battle armour, the other part style, shaped and forged with elegant curves or angles meant to fit around their form with ease and grace. She wore a standard helmet, which of course had jutting fins that covered a portion of the side of her sleek head. Those fins. With some imagination they could be used for a very, very handy purpose, which you were now going to show her once more.

Grabbing on with both hands to the sides of those ingenious little fins, you prod at the entrance to her mouth, and watch with delight as she doesn't open and spread those jaws wide on contact. Token sangheilian stubbornness right? That's okay. The wait always made it better when you did this with her. You press and nudge at the entrance to those four mandibles, watching as she keeps them shut tightly.

Those orange golden set eyes watch and stare at you as you press against her mandibles, playing a game of trying to nudge one free so that you can gain a foothold. She tilts her head slightly, trying so hard not to let you in. A little game of hers. A tug of war of sorts. But you know her true weak spot and you play her like a very well-tuned instrument.

She lifts her head up just enough as she rears her head and neck back, and exposes the bottom of her mouth, which isn't completely sealed or covered by her mandibles. A quick move and you slip into that space, nudging her bottom two mandibles aside and open. It doesn't take long and you force through her top set of jaws, arguably the weaker ones of the four.

And there, you can see it in her eyes as she makes a frustrated, silent frown to you. You won. And now you get to reap the rewards. The sight is always something to remember. There she is, the fine alien lady warrior, looking up to you in mild frustration as your tip is sandwiched in between her mandibles. Grip tightens on the fins of her helmet as you know what comes next. She knows what comes next.

Passion has and will always be shared with her. But some days she likes to play for keeps. She likes to play a little rough. She wouldn't be a Sangheili if she couldn't take things a little rough. Oh but even the thought of it. She is slender and curved, a long graceful neck, a rather small, yet decent sized chest always amplified and pressed out to the world by her suit, and flared hips and smooth curves all around on graceful thighs and legs.

And she could take it rough.

She loved taking it rough. Letting that primal, ancient alien animal out of her. Well then. Four mandibles rested against the tip. Why not start things off? Gripping those helmet fins, you pull her head forwards and push at the same time. And you don't do it gently. You move like you've got a purpose. The purpose being that throat of hers. Open at the back of her mouth, hidden by those four mandibles.

It's a tight fit. But surprisingly flexible. And you slide forwards with full intent and full speed, past her mandibles which flare to the side as she takes more and more. And you find that tight fit, that throat hole and you keep pushing. The tip slides into those tight, hot confines and follows the path of her throat, downwards.

The sensation only sparks more lust and more want, and you push all the way, the base of her head coming to rest against you as you've slid all the way as far as you can go. And there. Her neck is partially covered by her skin tight suit. And you can see the bulge down her throat.

Her eyes stare up at you, having gone wide, and four mandibles begin to struggle, twitching or moving in some vain hopes of pushing the intruder out. But you don't have to worry about those sharp teeth. You're so deep and her mandibles are flared so wide that they're helpless. They only add to what's coming.

Her throat constricts, trying to push you out and the bulge down below is wider now, as you grip the fins of her helmet tightly. You see the muscles in her arms tighten as she strains against the bonds, plasma wrist bonds that couldn't possibly be snapped. And then it starts. Her mandibles flare wide, as far as they can go, and the slow, subtle trickle of drool can be felt, seeping out of her mouth as you stay hilted down her throat.

Her mandibles flare and twitch, and her snake like head reflexively coils back as she tries to avoid her gag reflex, but again, she's defeated by the simple addition of a wall directly behind her. It's all so intoxicating. Her orange-yellow eyes watch you, widened as her mandibles struggle and she coughs, chokes, and tries to dislodge the girthy bulge down her throat that can even be seen down her skin tight suit.

The bulge only grows bigger as the collection of drool and spit collects, only some of it managing to escape, sliding down and out of her mouth in slow, sticky strands. She squirms, straining against the bonds keeping her arms pinned and she twists, flexing that smooth stomach of hers, and at last, you watch as her alien eyes roll back as she can't do it anymore.

You pull out, reversing and sliding out of her tight throat and revel in the feeling of warm spit and drool moving along in your wake, watching as the bulge moves upwards in her throat now, and with one sweet moment of release you practically pop free of her throat hole and she coughs and chokes up a momentous amount of drool, slathering it across her mandibles and having it run down in sticky strands.

You give her some time to recover and watch the results of your work. Drool cascades from her mouth and mandibles, running down her chest slowly, beginning to pool up at her breasts, resting and filling the space between her mounds before overflowing. You know she loves it. The warm, sticky spit pooling and cascading down her chest, a small portion of it running in between her breasts to trail down her stomach.

Her breathing returns to normal but she makes the mistake of leaving her mandibles wide open. Her mouth, her throat is now slick and hot with drool. Now starts the real fun. Latching on to those helmet fins, you aim and rock your hips forward yet again, forcefully sliding down the tight confines of her throat. More drool cascades as you force your way down, and her slick throat makes audible sound at the sudden intrusion.

Her eyes focus on you again and you can't help but stare back as you rock your hips and grip her helmet. Her mandibles are splayed wide and her eyes are annoyed. It's intoxicating. She's curves and wiry strength, an alien woman who stands easily two extra feet over your head. She's a warrior and she is proud. And here she is now.

Gasping, choking, and watching you with a look in her eyes that you know means she'll get you back later. Drool and spit splash from out of her throat and all over her mandibles, splashing down across her chest and overflowing across her smooth suit and you're helpless now.

You pull out and watch, and feel that bulge in her throat expand and contract as you ram downwards again. Every time her throat is tight, constricting, and hot, slick with drool and resounding with a terrific slapping sound as you thrust harder and faster. Her chest rises and heaves and she squirms, giving you a show as her supple breasts practically fight with one another in the tight confines of her suit, and her arms strain tight against her bonds.

But she can do nothing now. You pull out, and slide back in, and her breathes become short as her mandibles are helpless and remain splayed wide, going limp as you face fuck her with everything you have, her annoyed eyes disappearing as they go wide and roll.

It's all too much, the repeated slapping and suction of her throat, the heat and slickness, watching her little struggles, her powerful form being subdued like this. One last thrust and you hilt all the way down her throat, going as deep as possible, and you release, feeling waves pass over you as spurt after spurt fills her throat.

You hilt deep and stay there, riding those last waves of pleasure before sliding free, watching in satisfaction as drool rides up and spills out with strings of cum all together in a mess that's written and displayed across her mandibles in sticky strands that sag and droop down, pooling into her chest or down at her knees. With a quick motion you tug on the zipper of her suit and watch her breasts spread apart freely, cum and drool spreading across them and coating them, sliding down her carved supple stomach.

She's removed her helmet now and it's all too much for you. With some measure of self-restraint you've saved a present for her, and now let the remnants of hot seed spill across her smooth face, watching those shining eyes close as it splashes down across her. Being the gentlemen you are you free her from those restraints on her hands and watch as one eager hand forces itself down the tight confines of her suit even amongst the mess and locates what she so desperately wants now.

A sweet, feminine moan escapes those mandibles as they spread wide before closing shut, and the sangheilian woman looks over to you with eyes that are as sharp as knives. It's a beautiful sight really. This alien warrior could wipe the floor with you. Outpace you completely. She could easily make you feel inadequate in the weight lifting department. But she's here now and she loves taking it rough.

She's feisty, stubborn, curved in all the right places and everything you'd expect from a sangheilian woman. And she's all yours. Whether it be giving it to her roughly. Or staying in bed and feeling the dual beats of her two hearts. She's yours.

And in this case, judging by her eyes and the motions of her wiping cum and drool away from her mandibles.

She's going to jump you now.

And she's going to show you how a sangheilian girl rides.

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