Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I glance at the clock on the wall behind the bar. It’s eleven. I’ve been standing here for three hours tonight. I took up residence at a spot at the end of the bar, leaning against it, and I haven’t moved since.
There are two other Eleadian men on this first floor with me tonight. Skarg and Kafran. They’re friends from home and have been talking to each other on the other side of the dance floor while females hover around them. I’ve wondered a few times if I might have to share a female with one or both of them. If so, we certainly haven’t met her yet.
I’m pretty sure no less than two hundred females have taken my picture. Some of them have simply snapped a shot. Some have angled up next to me to take a selfie. Others have handed their phones off to friends to take a snapshot of us together.
Brazen girls. They lean in far too close. Smooth their hands up and down my chest and arms. A few really audacious females have even slid their palms down to my thighs. I’m certain they would literally stroke my cock if I let them, but I always stop them before they go that far. Gently deflecting them is the name of the game.
I’m huge compared to these humans. Seven-foot-six. And I’m not just tall. I’m broad and muscular. We Eleadians resemble human males in nearly every way, but we’re proportionately larger. I have to assume that extends to our cocks. I’ll never really know. It’s not as though I’ve seen a human dick other than in photos, nor do I intend to.
There are two reasons why none of us lose our temper while visiting Earth. One is that we have been told it is not allowed. It’s one of the primary rules. It’s important to maintain an appearance so that no one ever leaves a Club Zoom with tales of having met someone who was rude or mean. We have a reputation to uphold. It’s a rule instilled by our government. Not Earth’s.
The second reason why we aren’t more combative is that it’s simply not in our nature. We are a peaceful people. The only time in my life I’ve ever been inordinately frustrated has been these few days on Earth. I assume our government knows the sorts of trials Eleadians face on Earth—confrontations we are not accustomed to. Thus the need for perplexing rules of engagement that are baffling until we witness firsthand how humans behave.
I glance around the crowded room again. I’m tense. It’s hard not to be. The volume. The perfume. The fake smiles. The proximity. The stickiness that is all over the floor. The list is long.
I get why we draw a crowd. We’re different. People want to get a look. They take a risk in doing so, but they can’t resist.
Two females push through the gaggle gathered around me. They don’t even ask before they flank me. One of them holds up her phone and takes a quick selfie. Neither of them even look me in the eyes or attempt to talk to me. They giggle as they walk away.
Sometimes I wonder if they think they won’t get chosen if they don’t make eye contact. It doesn’t work that way, but if they want to believe it, I won’t stop them because it prevents me from having to interact more than necessary.
I’m torturing myself by standing here. I’m not interested in dancing. That’s never going to happen no matter how many females try to lure me out onto the crowded floor. I tell myself I’m doing my part for the planet by allowing myself to be a spectacle. The more photos circulate, the more females will want to come and see for themselves. I don’t really care if half of Earth sees me on their strange social media sites. Eventually I’ll be long gone.
As the minutes pass, the clientele grows more and more drunk. From what I’ve noticed the past few nights, the early crowd always seems to be less inebriated. Some of them simply come in, look around, stare for a few minutes, and then leave.
It’s for the best. No reason to encourage anyone to stay. As soon as one of them enters the premises—often before they get much past the doorman—it’s obvious to every Eleadian on site that they are not a match.
No female could possibly step into this crowded room undetected if she is the fated mate of an Eleadian. Perhaps if one of us had yet to descend from our apartment on one of the upper floors, but even from the control room on the second floor we would know if our mate entered the building.
So the turnover of bodies is higher earlier in the evening. Females come and go. They stare, jaws hanging. They take pictures. Many approach to touch us. Then they leave, which frees up space for others to enter the club. There’s an occupancy limit. And I’m certain the place is at capacity now.