In a moment of weakness, I nodded and croaked, "Okay...Can I also see yours?"

She purred, gave me a nod.

Right. So if this had been a human girl, I wouldn't have done it. But she was a space alien.

As a child and a young adult, I devoured books about alien abductions. I don't know, maybe that was the problem.

Read any of those books, or watch Fire In The Sky or any of those other supposedly true stories, and what happens? Out of no fault of his own, the hero of the story ends up sitting naked inside the UFO, staring back at a similarly naked alien, you know, for purely scientific reasons.

I regret to say that I favored the stories about the `reds,' the ones that have hair of red wherever they have hair, the ones whose interests are less than purely scientific. At any rate, however unwise, this was my rationalization for letting her do what she wanted.

Yeah, not the greatest excuse, coming from someone who had just had his throat and tonsils licked clean, but I never said I was the model example of my faith.

Before I could think about it twice, two of her hands reached downwards, unbuckling my belt as her two other ones undid the button on my pants.

My zipper opened, then my pants and underwear slid to the floor.

My shirt came off, and she was leading me over to a bed.

Figuring it to be fair play, I grabbed at her harness, fumbling with the straps.

Her four arms guided my hands down the back, detaching it from her body. She let it fall on the carpet.

The silken bedspreads in the room were dusty from unuse. Ibira threw one of them off, exposing the plastic cover beneath.

She sat down, patting the spot beside her.

And then we were sitting crosslegged on the crinkling mattress, admiring each other's naked bodies with mystified fascination and curious amusement.

Never before had I been this close to any female, alien or otherwise.

Not every part of her body had perfectly smooth skin. Pebbled reptilian scales covered her lower abdomen, genital regions and inner thigh area.

Her lower region smelled like packing tape, wet dog, and burnt tortillas. The scent filled my nostrils, confusing my brain as I ogled her. From that moment forward, my body would do strange things whenever I approached a taco stand.

"Your musculature is lean but nicely developed," she said. "It reminds me of a young Bilwobi. A novice hunter."

"Uh...thanks," I muttered.

I pointed to the flower-like purple-orange blotch on her breast. "Have you always had that?"

She nodded. "Since birth. You may touch it, if you wish."

I did.

"So...You've really been shot with arrows before?"

She grabbed my hands, pressing them to scars on her chest, her legs, her stomach, as she told me about each battle. She grinned as she saw how horny that made me.

She slid a finger around my belly button. "I love this. My people don't have those."

I placed my hand on her stomach. "I know. It's so smooth!"

"We lay eggs. That means no umbilical cords."

I rubbed the her scales. "No umbilical, no belly button. Just like a doll!"

"I don't take you for the kind of man who plays with dolls."

I reddened. "I...uh...I don't. I mean, not since I was a kid."

Ibira fingered my stomach some more. "I don't judge."

She glanced between my legs. "I really don't."

As I examined her reproductive organ, I trembled as her hands fingered mine.

"Oh, hello, little mushroom," she said as she toyed with it. "...How peculiar. Look how it's stretching out when I touch it."

She looked up at me. "You really do like me, don't you?"

I swallowed. "It wouldn't look like that if I didn't."

She laughed, playing with it some more. "You do like to be stroked, little mushroom, don't you?"

My legs trembled as she ran the fingers of her other hands up and down my thighs.

With my pants off, Ibira could see exactly how much I enjoyed the sensation of those snakeskin palms against my bare flesh.

"Oooh. I think you do." she giggled.

Seeing it was only fair, I ran my fingers over her inner thigh scales, tracing the ribbed surface of the flaps surrounding the star shaped opening between her legs. She involuntarily shuddered and gasped in response.

"What do you call this thing?" I said, trying to keep my breathing steady as she continued to slide her fingers around my body.

"It's a -"

She let out a startled mewling sound as my finger slid through the opening. "A noafwi!"

I pulled my hand away.

"It's okay, you can keep doing that if you want..."

She tapped my stiffening organ, correctly guessing the technical term for what it was called.

I frowned. "You already knew?"

"How could I not know what one is? I overhear things. Your people are just as barbaric as mine. You would have heard plenty about noafwis if there were more of us."

I winced as she attempted to pull my organ out further than it would stretch.

I cleared my throat. "If you keep messing with it, it might go off."

She laughed. "So will mine. It will not be unpleasant."

Her hands massaged my ticklish abdomen. "Cute. Very cute indeed."

"Uh, you actually use that term to describe mild sexual attractiveness."

The hands traced lines around my thighs, "Oh, I do not think so."

"Well thank you."

She thrummed her fingers down the length of my man-bone with her other hands. "Don't mention it."

"So, um," I stammered as a pair of hands caressed my rump. "What did you mean by `it didn't work?'"

The hands squeezed my buttocks, her other ones giving my erection a playful flick. "Excuse me? What?"

"The egg," I said in a frustrated grunt. "You said they gave you a collar because it didn't work."

"Oh, it worked," she purred. "But it kept falling out. Not the right shape. It was too impractical for them to modify one for me, apparently."

"Did you...have to give it back?"

She nodded. "There's a fee for the replacement otherwise. Not sure what they did with it after that."

"Maybe they sterilized it and put it in a new package for someone else."

Ibira removed her hands from my crotch. "That's disgusting!"

I shrugged. "Just a theory."

She grimaced. "You're probably right."

I poked my finger into the center of her four noafwi flaps, pulling one back.

Ibira spread her legs further apart, and a mass of wiggling dark green-orange tentacles exploded from the opening.

I jerked back in fright. "Shit!"

The Thark only laughed, continuing to stroke me.

I fell off the bed, staring at her in horror.

Ibira smiled. "What's wrong? It's only aroused!"

I shuddered in disgust.

She frowned at me. "Yours is shrinking and losing stiffness. Have I done something wrong?"

I couldn't respond for an entire minute. "N-no. It's just something I'm not used to, that's all."

She patted the plastic mattress cover. "Come. Let us continue this pleasurable experience."

"Ibira!" I heard Victor shouting. "Jason!"

"Fuck!" I cried, diving for my clothing.

My alien girlfriend giggled. "Ironic word choice."

With my heart practically thundering in my throat, I threw my pants and shirt back on, pressing my back to the door frame as I peered around the corner.

"Must we?" Ibira protested.

"No fraternization." I forced myself to be stern. "We got a job to do. Plus it was about to lead to something immoral."

She opened her mouth to say something.

I swallowed. "It's bad enough I let it get this far."

With a sigh, she fastened up her harness and loin strap. "We must discuss your morals in greater detail," she muttered, marching out.

I followed her into the hallway, my face turning the deepest shade of pink I have ever turned in my entire life.

Ibira cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should continue our search while you try to decide what you want."

I swallowed. "Good idea."

I trailed her back to the staircase, noting that I did find her legs and rear end rather sexy as they moved from step to step.

We met the midget at the lower landing. He had a section of the formerly featureless wall opened, connecting wires to something inside.

When he heard me coming down the tile floor, he turned and frowned at us. "Did you find any equipment yet?"

In a manner of speaking, I thought.

"Only another corpse," Ibira muttered.

Victor sighed. "Dammit! I was hoping the equipment would be on that floor."

"You can look again," Ibira blurted. "We have not examined the contents of the file cabinets."

"Honestly, we didn't-" I started, but Ibira elbowed me in the ribs.

"We will continue our search and continue to the third floor."

The midget narrowed his eyes at me, like he suspected something.

With a flustered tone, Ibira added, "When you're done checking the second, you can go on to the fourth. We'll have the third covered."

Victor laughed. "I don't think I want to know how you'll have it covered."

I swallowed, wondering how much he actually knew.

We returned to the Fraud department, giving it a more thorough search. In the background, we could hear Victor jamming a screwdriver in the file cabinet locks, cursing as they stubbornly refused to open.

The end of the floor looked identical to the first floor we'd been to, the only difference being the structure of the meeting room in the middle of the cubicle area.

"Clear," Ibira muttered, marching toward the staircase. "C'mon. Let's go."

She winked at me, one hand running up her thigh, the other tracing the line of her buttocks while her other two hands tugged playfully with her harness and pointed upstairs.

I swallowed, blushing a little. "What...?"

The alien female sighed, rolled her eyes. "Go or stay. Don't think about it too hard."

She didn't bother to pull me along, so I had to race to keep up.

The upper floor looked virtually identical to the one we left, except it didn't have file cabinets around the front entrance.

"Card member services," Ibira said. "This was where I worked for quite a number of years."

"Cool," I stammered, still reeling over the shock of what we'd just done.

Attempting to re-establish rapport, I blurted, "I still don't understand why aliens would want a card that says U.S. Bank on it. It's clearly credit from earth, specific only to America."

"You'd be surprised. A number of customers appreciate the image of the humble, trustworthy, conservative bank. They like the old fashioned anonymous method of voice only communication, the policy of currency measurement, the concept of a slavery free loan."

She marched down an aisle of cubicles, rifling through one of the desk drawers while her other hands flipped over keyboards and turned around monitors to examine their undersides.

I checked the desks behind her.

"What did your god think about you taking off your clothes and fondling me?"

I was glad there wasn't anyone else there. She said it loudly enough for someone to hear her in the next row.

"I...don't know," I stammered. "That's different. It's like...those abduction stories where they're naked with a naked alien. It's scientific curiosity. I figured it was just like picking up a dog and examining its genitals."

She frowned. "Wow. How romantic."

"That's not what I meant." I swallowed, fumbling for the right words.

"If you don't like me, you can just say so."

"That's just it, Ibira." I was stuttering. "That's the problem. It's no longer like that." I shook my head. "I'm not trying to insult you, I'm just trying to explain what I'm feeling. Honestly. I thought it was like, you know, studying a rabbit's private parts or something. Scientific like."

She put one right hand on her hips, the other right hand on the side of her stomach, regarding me with a sour expression.

I tried again. "The point is. I thought it was going to be an objective thing."

She twisted her lip, narrowing her eyes at me in a way that caused the color to drain from my face.

"The point is that it's not a matter of scientific inquiry anymore. This is getting serious. I don't mind getting serious, but it's got to be right before God."

She seated herself on the top of a desk, staring at me.

We stared at each other in silence for an entire minute, Ibira apparently evaluating my motives while I busied myself wondering when and how she would decide to kill me.

I sat down on the floor. "Anyways, I've seen enough. It's fine. I saw everything. I think my curiosity has been satisfied."

She came closer, hands on her hips. Kind of awkward, actually, since I now sat on the floor, and the thong portion of her outfit was right in my face. "Has it now."

"Well, satisfied enough. It's not really a scientifically objective study anymore."

"Are you a scientist?"

"Well...no..."

"Then why do you care if it's objective?"

"Maybe `detached' would be a better word."

"Huh." There she was again, hands on her hips, staring at me.

"Uh...since we're already on the subject, what does your god, er, goddess, tell you about sex?"

Ibira laughed. "My religion teaches that sexual reproduction does not exist."

I blinked. "Really?"

She nodded.

I sighed. "Sometimes I wish you were right. It's far too much trouble."

"This is not to say that it doesn't exist. It's just what my religion teaches. And you're right. Sometimes I think it would be better that way."

"That being said..." She came closer to me. "I noticed your eyes betray your words."

I blushed. "Yes they do."

She chortled through her nose.

Another awkward silence. Having nothing else to discuss, we returned to our duty of searching the desks.

When we had gone through four rows of desk drawers, I heard Ibira speaking again. "Do those commandments truly apply to situations like this? When we're not even the same species?"

I swallowed. "I...well, I guess it's technically not bestiality..."

I rubbed my face. "But I mean, we're not married either."

Ibira snickered at me. "You're already married to two lovely figments. Wouldn't three wives make a crowd?"

I smiled. "You'd be the only one that counts."

"It's unlikely we can even procreate. It seems pointless for your god to require you to marry if we don't even know if our sexual intercourse will produce offspring."

"I guess you got a point."

She pressed me against a cubicle desk, wrapping all four arms around me. "We can do it right here, if you want to get adventurous. We can do it anywhere you want. I'm all yours."

I flinched, slipping out of her clutches. "I...can't. C'mon, let's...do our job."

She sighed and nodded.

We soon finished the sweep. No useful tools. No people.

The board rooms and offices were clean and devoid of corpses. I asked Ibira about this.

"Maybe they all evacuated...or maybe the Na'vi got them. You did see the crosses earlier..."

"Right."

As we reached another hidden hallway lined with bedrooms and offices, Ibira tackled me to a door frame. "I seem to remember we were in the middle of something."

"Yes," I stammered. "But..."

She pressed her face close to mine, whispering in my ear. "I'm sorry my noafwi startled you."

"It's...okay."

"Did it turn you off?"

"I...um...kinda?"

"You think...refamiliarizing yourself with it would help? You know, to desensitize yourself?"

I swallowed. "I...I don't know."

She put a hand on my butt. "You liked it up to that point, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

She slid a hand into my pocket, sliding the lining over my inner thigh. "Then, shall we continue?"

I blushed. "Uh...I don't know."

"Exactly what do you not know about? Like I said, you can familiarize yourself with it before you decide to do anything."

"I..." I swallowed. "I mean, if we do, do something, I..I mean..."

"Yes?"

"I have to make sure it's right with God first."

Ibira sighed.

"W-why don't you get one of those...things and take up gardening instead?"

She stroked my chest. "We both know that neither one of us wants that."

Her tusks brushed the side of my throat as she pressed my back against the projecting lip of the door frame. Her thigh brushed against the back of my hand, but I resisted the urge to touch anything.

The radio suddenly crackled. "Fourth floor sweep is done. Found another dead body in the restroom. Fat rich guy. Walrus mustache."

Radio silence.

With a groan, she pulled away from me, pressing the talk button. "I do not know who you are referring to. I never worked up there."

"You know, someone is going to have to move them eventually."

Ibira groaned. "I know, but I'm not touching them without industrial cleaning gear."

I heard Sam mutter something in the background.

"It looks like a storm is about to hit. We're going to be taking off in a few minutes. I suggest you head to the lobby unless you want to go back to base on foot."

When I marched a step in the direction of the stairs, Ibira grabbed me, stopping me in my tracks.

"Copy that, Victor," she said into the phone/walkie talkie. "Have a nice trip."

A longer radio silence followed. "What's that again? Please clarify."

But I heard Sam laughing and muttering something in the background like they understood all too well.

Ibira took a deep breath, looking annoyed. "I will remain here with Jason and hold down the fort until you arrive with reinforcements."

Pause. "Copy that. We'll be back tomorrow morning. When you're done playing with his fort, there's some cleaning supplies on the first floor. The janitor left the door open. If you want full ABC gear, you're SOL."

"Did you see a shovel?"

"That's a negative, Ghost Rider."

"What about body bags?"

"They actually do have some, believe it or not."

"But nothing to scoop everything into them with."

He laughed. "I think the cafeteria has some spoons."

"I'm not doing anything until you bring shovels."

"What if I bring you a Klondike bar?"

She rolled her eyes. "We'll see what we can do."

Ibira clipped the phone back on her harness.

She leaned in close, and I felt hands slipping inside the waistband of my pants. "Now, where were we..."

Suddenly I heard someone whistling the theme song to Cannon, that old show about the fat cop.

She pulled her hands out, whipping her head in the direction of the sound with an annoyed glare. "Hurry up and leave already," she hissed under her breath.

Ibira quickly pulled away from me. "Let's go somewhere else."

She was dragging me, to the point where I basically stumbled and let her pull me along, all the way to the staircase.

I followed her down the steps, staring at her in bewilderment. "What? Did you change your mind?"

She didn't answer.

"Where are we going? Outside? Back to the base? What?"

"Shhh!"

As we climbed down the stairs, she clutched my hand tight, hurriedly leading me through the now familiar row of lockers and file cabinets.

"Uh, this isn't the way out..." I blurted we stumbled past the long rows of cubicles.

"I know. We have some unfinished business to attend to."

"You mean..."

"Uh huh."

"Why down here?" I hissed. "There's dead bodies around the corner!"

"Exactly. They'd never look in here."

I swallowed hard.

That is when we bumped into the midget.

The color drained away from my face.

"Change your mind?" he asked.

Ibira shook her head no.

"Did you find anyone alive?"

"N-no," I stammered.

"Only a second corpse," said Ibira. "Someone unfamiliar, perhaps from the Fraud Department."

Victor nodded. "Judging by what we've seen out the window, that storm looks pretty fierce. If I were you, I'd hurry back to the Hummer."

"Okay," I said, but one of Ibira's elbows jabbed me in the side.

"This facility is secured," she interjected. "I would like to ensure that it stays that way. We also have bodies to dispose of and supplies to retrieve. Request official permission to stay and `hold down the fort'?"

The midget shook his head in annoyance, possibly a little amusement. "Fine fine. Just make sure you get some of these power computer systems activated after you get done...fortifying each other."

I thought could feel steam rising from my ears.

The man laughed and waddled away.

Ibira's skin turned a fiery orange. "How did he know?"

"The man's a sleaze. He's probably seen it all before."

She stared at me. "I think you normally wear that tag on the other side of your neck."

I laughed. "Come to think of it, your harness looks weird. You might want to check that too."

She cleared her throat. "I don't suppose anyone will notice now."

I chortled. "No, I guess not."

Ibira dragged me past the rows of cubicles, through the open doorway of the female crew quarters.

She leaned in close, rubbing a tusk against my neck. "I'd like to try another scientific experiment. How about we link our reproductive organs together and find out what happens?"

As the tusks again slid up around my neck, I again spoke up in protest. "Ibira, look. I'm not a man of easy virtue."

She ran a hand down my shirt, tugging my collar with the other. "I didn't say you were. But what's really wrong with it? Our two species shouldn't be compatible, so we're just having fun, right?"

She kissed me on the lips, sliding her froglike tongue around in my mouth.

I returned the gesture, but then pulled back when I felt her unbuckling my belt.

She rolled her eyes, frowning at me. "What."

"Bestiality is a sin."

"I thought you said I wasn't one."

I momentarily couldn't speak. I just sputtered half formed words.

"Are you saying I'm a beast?"

"No..."

She pulled my belt out of its loop. "So you want to go through with the formality and expense of a wedding only to find, after a year or so, that all we can produce are orgasms?"

I swallowed.

She stroked my collarbone with her finger. "We're both virgins, so it's not adultery."

I found myself nodding. "I guess, if our species are not physically compatible, it's not fornication, either."

"I guess not." She unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them with two hands, using her other hands to undo straps between her legs.

"Wait," I said.

"What is it now?"

"Grace Augustine, she shot some kind of chip into my chest to monitor the sleepwalking. It shows her where I am and what's happening with my body."

She squeezed my butt. "So?"

"What do you mean, `so'? She'll see everything!"

"I have a knife. Would you like me to cut it out?"

I paled. "No."

A hand slid between my legs. "Well then."