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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any existing people or events is coincidental. If a story involving sexual contact with minors bothers you or is illegal where you live, stop reading now. Please donate to Nifty, it's awesome!
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It was a few hours later, stupid o'clock in the morning and I was back in the conference room drinking a large whisky with CIA guy.
"Good work, son... although I think you might have enjoyed it a little too much." He sneered what might have been his closest approximation to a smile.
We'd just reviewed the tape of my bedroom from earlier. I must admit that my pants were pretty uncomfortable by the time we had watched me pull out and cum on Shama. Boy that tape would be worth a fortune in the right hands.
"You were a bit slow on the uptake, but at least we now know what they are wanting from us."
There was a rumbling that might have been him laughing to himself.
"Your sperm might just be the most valuable commodity on the planet at the moment."
"The question just becomes how we trade on it most effectively."
He paused reflectively, and I pretended to also be giving it deep thought.
"We could, of course, just show them this to let them know that we know, but they might just take umbrage and run."
"We need to be subtle, but they need to give us something worthwhile before that little slut gets hold of your dick again."
I nodded sagely.
"What I do know is that you cannot, I repeat cannot, let your spunk anywhere near them until we have got something in return. We are not giving it away."
He sunk back into silence.
"I need to discuss this with President. Get some rest, we will reconvene in the morning."
He must have seen my face.
"No son, I won't show her the tape. I don't think she needs to see that to get the picture."
I hadn't voted for her, but it just seemed wrong for her to see my perverted pleasures. I still had some respect for the office despite its recent incumbents.
I stumbled to my bedroom, tiredness and the whiskey catching up with me. I got into bed naked as usual, absent-mindedly jerking my cock, thinking of Shama's tight perfection, before the need for sleep overtook me.
I don't usually dream but that night was different. Years ago, when I was in my early teens, one of my friends had a sister a few years younger. I was at that age when I used to get hard ons all the time and for no apparent reason, but one day I was looking at her, in her one piece swimsuit, as she splashed around in a paddling pool in their garden, and realised that the sight of her slightly chubby brown legs, and her firm round ass was getting me horny in ways I hadn't realised before. There was something about her that I found strangely irresistible and fascinating.
I went home and wanked myself stupid for days afterwards, cumming over and over thinking of her long curly blonde hair, enormous innocent blue eyes, that sweet snub nosed, freckled face, and, most of all, the way that yellow swimsuit had clung to her body; her tiny nipples just visible where the water had splashed, and the intriguing triangle of fabric tight between those gorgeous plump thighs.
I never touched her though, and hadn't thought of her in years.
This night though it was like I was back there. I was in my childhood bedroom, naked, in my adolescent body, lying on my back on my bed. My cock was probably only half the size it is now but it was rock hard, and held in a tiny brown chubby hand. Smiling sweetly up at me was that gorgeous face, wide eyed as she jerked my teen cock from between my parted legs, her sweet lips parting to let her little tongue wash the underside of my 4 inch shaft. She was still in that swimsuit, but she let go of my cock to peel it down, showing that fabulous chest (so much whiter than her suntanned arms and legs), that I had dreamed of so often back then.
She went back to work between my legs, her hand jerking me as her tongue licked my so sensitive balls.
She moved up and that little mouth opened to take in my cock, even in its young state, looking too big for her.
She sucked on it, not like they do in the pornos, but like a girl who had never seen a cock before and whose only experience she was able to draw on was from having sucked on a popsicle. Her lips moved up and down the glans, as her plump cheeks pitted slightly as she applied suction, all the time her cornflower blue eyes locked on mine.
My body was tensing, on the edge of cumming, when the world exploded around me.
I woke with a jerk. There were two marines staring at me from the end of my bed. The door was still swinging from them having kicked it in, and their weapons were drawn. I was naked and uncovered, my cock throbbing over my stomach.
It took a second to orientate myself. Kneeling at the side of the bed was Drasan. She was as beautiful as Shama, but with deep brown eyes you could drown in and silky straight black hair that draped between her shoulder blades to her waist. I hadn't been able to take my eyes off her when I had first seen her. She was looking at me with a coy mischievous smile, her hands in her lap, as if butter wouldn't melt.
"Sir! We heard a disturbance, sir!" One of marines barked, trying not to look at my cock as it wilted in front of him.
"It's ok. I must have shouted out in a dream."
"Were you having a bad dweam?" Drasan asked in an affectedly baby voice. I glowered at her.
"No, not a bad dream. Guys it's okay, you can go, but maybe you should take our guest back to her quarters."
As Drasan stood up I was sure I caught a glimpse of a little point tenting her dress at her crotch. She stuck her tongue out at me as she went through the door between her two escorts.
There must have been less than 30 seconds between her departure and the arrival in my room of the CIA director, more agitated than I had previously seen him.
"Fuck that was close," he said, "luckily the guys monitoring your cameras weren't totally brainless. Fuck knows how she got into your room, but they spotted something going on under the covers more than your usual addiction to wanking and apparently got there just in time."
"I guess this means we've blown it though in pretending that we don't know what they want. They'll also have got the message that we're not going to give it to them. Fuck!"
I was starting to feel anxious again. That was no normal dream, just what were the Loilitanians truly capable of?
I watched the feed of the conference the next day. The Loilitanians were as composed as ever. They explained that, as over the generations strength and aggression had gotten bred out, with increasing physical delicacy had come declining fertility. There were only a few Loilitanian men who still produced fertile sperm. This had gradually led to more inbreeding which just exacerbated the problem, and now those last few men were themselves close to dying out.
This group had been sent out into the galaxy to track down more primitive common ancestors. The girls had been carefully chosen as the most alluring and the most fertile, but they hadn't realised the difficulties in finding species who would mate with them, as they looked so much like their young. Their research on Earth, however, had taught them that there were a surprising number of men who had no problems in that area.
Although they put forward the case that we should gift them fertile men to kick start a breeding program for purely simple humanitarian reasons, our suits were less generous, arguing that we couldn't sell that to our public, and that we expected an equal value trade.
The meeting broke up without an agreement, to reconvene in the morning.