Peters hadn’t heard the word before, but the context was clear; at some point he’d decided the Hell with it, go with the flow. The other girl was wearing a garment similar to Peet’s; she stood and stretched, looking at Peters with a smile, then turned to face away and began pulling on trousers, the lower half of the pants and shirt outfit some Grallt wore. “You aren’t supposed to be looking at her,” Peet said. “You’re supposed to be looking at me.” She struck a pose for a moment, arms high, the stretch making her breasts more prominent. “There. Now get out of that suit while I clear this stuff away.”
The other girl brushed by, pausing at the door. “I may want a turn later,” she warned.
“Go gabble yourself,” Peet said, but both girls were grinning. “And get out. I’ll come and get you when we’re done.” The door clicked behind her as she left. Peet shoved a pile of clothing into a locker, forced the door shut and latched the handle, then began twitching bedclothes into position. “Haven’t you got any further than that?” she asked when she’d finished making the bed and turned. “Here, I’ll help you.”
Peters had unclasped his buckle, but had been too bemused by the situation to go farther. Removing the belt deactivated the suit; only the wearer could do that without special precautions. Once deactivated it could be opened by anyone, which Peet proceded to demonstrate by tugging the “zipper” to open the top section. The two of them began pulling it down; when it got past his groin she squealed. “Wonderful!” she said. “But we can play later. Toss it on the other bed.”
Peters freed his legs, tossed the suit as instructed, and turned to find Peet pulling the shift over her head. She lay on the bunk, spread her legs slightly, and grinned. “In case you weren’t quite sure, it goes right there,” she said, pointing.
Peters managed with a minimum of fumbling. Nothing was seriously out of place, although he wasn’t experienced enough to make detailed comparisons. “Khhh,” she said, a long throaty exhalation as he entered. “Khhh, so good. Now move.”
He moved. She quickly caught the rhythm, and they moved together. Her breath started coming in deep gasps, with low, back of the throat sounds like growls, Ghrrr, aaahh, ghrrr, in time with the strokes. Gasps and growls got longer and deeper, culminating in a long cry, throaty growl mixed with a higher tone, a sound like nothing in his experience, and she clasped him around the torso so strongly he was forced to be still, and kissed him again.
He wasn’t spent, so after a few moments of embrace he began moving again. She caught the rhythm after a few strokes, loosened her grasp, and began breathing deeply again. It took longer this time, but now he knew what to look for, and when she reached her high point he released his own. This time when she hugged him he hugged back, and they lay there together for a little while.
Then she kissed him again, bringing her tongue into play, and he responded. After only a little of that she pushed him away slightly and inhaled. “That’s really nice, but I can’t keep it up for too long,” she said. “I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t either,” he admitted. “But I like it too.”
“Let’s see how long we can keep it up.” They did that, establishing the maximum duration to the satisfaction of both parties.
The third time took even longer, but seemed to work out just as well. After she had released her final clasp, he rolled to one side, lying on the bed, their bodies touching full length. “I have to rest a little,” he admitted.
“Me too.” She smiled and pecked his lips. “But we can play.”
They explored one another, beginning with faces. Her facial cleft was deep enough to admit his hawkbeak of a nose; now he knew she breathed through it, which he’d assumed but didn’t know. She found his nose fascinating and fingered it several times. Her eyes were much like a human’s, except that the iris looked more like concentric rings than radial rays; they were blue with a tinge of green, which he hadn’t noticed despite looking full into them as they kissed. His were gray, with a bluish cast. “Not many Grallt have that color eyes,” she said. “Humans either,” he explained.
Her breasts were a little lower on her chest than a human’s, and just below her rib cage she had a pair of vestigial nipples with no swelling behind them. “Some girls have real titties there,” she said. “It’s considered really sexy.” The breasts were not remarkable—wrong, asshole, he thought wryly, but at least they weren’t too different, soft warm bags, nipples not especially prominent, surrounded by dark aureoles. Between them she had a strip of silky hair, the same near black as her head hair, thinning to surround a human-looking belly button, widening to form a pubic bush. A wider, thicker band of hair ran down her back, really a continuation of her head hair, ending in a point just above her waist.
She examined his penis closely. “It’s bigger around, but a little shorter than normal,” she mused. Then she laughed. “You know what I mean! And don’t get all male on me about it. It’s enough, as I think you just found out.”
“Well, yes,” he admitted.
Her clitoris was bigger than a human’s and weakly erectile. “I bet you can—” shit! “—make water standing up,” he remarked.
“Yes, I can piss standing up,” she supplied the word. “Can’t your females do that?”
“I’ve heard that some can, or can learn, but it isn’t normal.”
She stuck out her tongue; it came to two points, not prominently enough to be called “forked” but distinctly bifurcated at the end. “Pah. I can’t imagine.”
Her labia continued to form a flexible stem as big as his little finger and about as long, then swelling to form testicles. “They have to be like that,” she said. “Animals fuck from behind, and if they were close like yours, they’d be in the way. But leave them alone. I’m ready again; how about you?”
“I think so,” he said, and entered her again. It wasn’t quite as satisfying this time for some reason.
Apparently she felt the same way, because when they were finished, she turned and sat up, legs hanging off the bed. “Khaa,” she breathed. “So nice.” Long pause. “But..”
“But what?” Peters asked it softly, and writhed around, coming to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, bodies touching. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no,” she said, as softly as he had spoken. “But maybe I did.” She turned to face him, and reached up to touch his nose, bringing her fingers down to his lips.
He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged. “What’s wrong?”
After a pause she said, “At the most basic level, these.” She fingered her testicles where they lay on the edge of the bed and reached over. “Oh, I can’t get to yours,” she said, then sat quietly for a moment. “You know, you aren’t really a male, as I know it.”
“Yes. And you’re not really a female, the way one of my people would be.”
Peet nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” She sighed. “My sister and I play together occasionally, but that’s what it is, playing. This is, oh, I don’t know, maybe serious is the word.” Another sigh, and she turned to face him. “I’m not very pretty, you know.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? I’m too different.” She poked him in the ribs.
“Oof! Don’t do that,” Peters admonished. Then he squeezed a little tighter. “Maybe we can look at it like this,” he began, and she turned to face him again. “Did you enjoy this, or not?”
“Oh, yes,” she said.