Scarletra awoke late the following morning. She rolled over in the bed the man had let her use and hoped to see him with her. But no. She was alone yet again. Just her in the dreary, empty bedroom, with little more than the bed and a closet she had yet to look into.

　　She had taken him willingly kissing her back yesterday and cuddling after dinner as a signal he was warming up to her. Was it not? The man had even stayed until she fell asleep; he must have slithered away at some point. But why? He seemed comfortable cuddling. He was not giving off the scent of arousal, but he didn`t argue either.

　　She wore the clothes he wanted and everything. The jumpsuit was lovely, but it did squeeze her in some places she would rather the garment not. Namely her chest. It hugged her tits a bit too much; she could not even close the front, not that her regular clothes covered them to a greater degree, but her typical top also did not feel like it was trying to force her tits to overflow.

　　Looking down, she could see that tight fit had caused one of her tits to pop out while she slept. Scarletra sighed and righted the new garment before rolling out of bed. After a few more attempts to close the jumpsuit and not have it cause her massive cleavage to only be made more pronounced, she gave up.

　　 The thing was just too small. With how much the man seemed to like her breasts, She wondered if he made it this way by design. She could see it.

　　 Scarletra took a few moments to stretch, touching her toes, cracking her back, and lowering herself nearly into the splits. Her daily routine of forcing tired sleep out of her heavy muscles was something she had neglected the last few days; Yet, to her surprise, she was far more limber than usual. She wondered if it had something to do with staying here. Somewhere, she was able to, after so many years, let her hair down and fully relax.

　　Scarletra worked her way out into the living room after the brief pause of forcing herself through the door frame. That was one of the few things she did not enjoy about the man`s home; why could the doors not be just a little bit wider?

　　Once out in the living room, Scarletra paused, and a toothy smirk quickly grew on her lips once she spotted her handsome host. The position he was in could not be called flattering by anyone`s standards. But that did not mean she did not feel her heart flutter at the sight.

　　The man was sprawled out on the couch, one leg dangling off it, his hands wrapped around a half-consumed can of booze resting on his prominent stomach. Around a dozen empty cans of the booze they drank were lined up on the table, as neatly as everything in his storage room; even the tabs were facing the same direction.

　　 The only clothes he had opted to sport right now were his skivvies, leaving nothing to the imagination at all, a heavy outline of his member in the thin fabric.

　　Scarletra practically drooled seeing him so open and exposed, especially with how he set her body alight. One thing that only made that worse was after the first night. She had a comparison to her species. What he was packing in his boxers was longer, thicker, and was not covered in those odd fleshy spikes of the Varintol males.

　　 Without a doubt, he was preferable for raw enjoyment.

　　But the raw enjoyment was something she thought of after she understood how attentive and gentle he could be. He seemed to care about her. But the fact he was still pushing back against that grated on her mind and was something she had pondered quite a bit while in the shower and over dinner last night.

　　 Through those many times analyzing the events so far, Scarletra noticed a distinct pattern. So far, the only tactics that worked were subtle and less direct. Perhaps she needed to think of seducing and making him happy to be more akin to fishing than hunting; doing so might bear more fruit.

　　Scarletra was no fool when it came to tactics. She had to tempt and bait him in, not stalk and pursue like she had been so far.

　　Thinking back to the first night was a perfect example. How they cuddled on the couch, relaxing and laughing together, led Scarletra to an idea. A plan that was the ideal first gamut for her new strategy for getting the man to open up to what he obviously wanted.

　　Scarletra sauntered to the heavily snoring man and scooted up by his head. Similar to what he did for her yesterday, as gently as possible, she propped his head on her plush thigh and let him continue to rest. Scarletra was confident that waking up to a warm pillow would be nice for him; if she was lucky, the man might just decide to stay lying there for a while—and maybe more.

　　If she would act as the matriarch of his home in any way, she had to keep him somewhat happy, and her direct pressure was not doing that. If anything, her attempts so far were distressing him.

　　Her mother always did that with the men and women of the tribe. She was always forceful and imposed her will on others, commanding them to do as she willed or be punished harshly and violently. Scarletra was all too familiar with the pain and suffering of being punished by her mother. But that was a thing of the past, and she would not be like that.

　　Shouting, yelling, and hitting him and others like her mother would not help her. She would be no better than her mother if she treated him anything like the males in her village were. If a male wasn`t a helpful individual, Scarletra`s mother and sisters would use them as slaves for their wanton desires until they broke and fell in line. Or the males would quickly be forced to the frontlines of whatever conflict she had brewed up to eliminate them.

　　Scarletra rubbed her fingers through his beard and smiled. She would never do that to him or anyone. She was too gentle a soul to stomach any more violence. She chuckled as he muttered soft words in his smooth-as-silk language. She could not picture this man as one of the savage warriors of her old tribe. Perhaps as one of the older scouts or a crafter, but a frontline warrior? No chance.

　　Too bad she could not understand him. He sounded like he was in abject bliss right now and even had an adorable smile on his lips. This was probably one of the first times he seemed so relaxed since her arrival, of course, other than their first-night drinking and sleeping together. Leaning down and kissing him right now was oh so tempting, but she must hold back and lead him into the idea—so he at least thinks it`s his.

　　 Scarletra reached over and fished one of the cans out from the box on the ground and opened it. She drank from it and pondered what she could do to lead him to the answer that she wanted: to be soft, gentle, and keep him comfortable, without all this fudding around with him, resisting her and himself.

　　Usually, when she was around, he smelled of arousal, but other sharper odors occasionally appeared. But she needed to find out what they were. Considering the odd tart scent only appeared after he rebuked her advances, she assumed it must be the smell his species gives off when angry—but she was unsure.

　　He gave off some of the same odor yesterday during dinner; was it embarrassment? He would not even look at her at that time. So she could see it being that. Maybe the clothes he made for her were more attractive to him than her usual clothes. They were far less relieving, so she doubted it. Any male she had ever known wanted women naked as soon as possible. Although, that was due to their role in the tribe. If the woman was naked before them, it was a clear sign they would not be punished for attempting anything without the Matriarch`s approval.

　　It was all so frustrating.

　　Scatletra decided to try to get him to teach her his language. Hopefully, he could, so eventually, all of this could be settled through talking and making sure both were clear about everything. But only the Great Mother knew how long her learning to speak his language could take. What if it took years? Could she live like this that long?

　　Scarletra sat there for a long while, drinking out of the large case of booze, adding more cans to the rows on the table. She had sucked down a solid eight of the drinks and was hardly feeling anything from it. These things were not very potent but were delicious. She could tell it was affecting her, but nowhere near her homemade wine.

　　As she reached for another, the man lying on her lap began to stir.

　　Scarletra glanced down at the man; his eyes battled sleep and gradually creaked open. He grimaced and rubbed his temples as the light violently assaulted his somewhat bloodshot eyes. He must have a far weaker constitution than she does. The man was clearly brawling with some amount of a hangover. Scarletra can understand that feeling. Hangovers are never fun, but hell, it might be an excuse for him to finally stop pushing her away.

　　She knew how to make that black liquid he likes to drink in the mornings, having watched him brew some yesterday. She could make some of that odd tea; he might enjoy that.

　　"Good morning. How did you sleep?" Scarletra asked softly, running her hand gently over the man`s bare chest, brushing down his light fur.

　　He grumbled and groaned in his smooth-flowing language, clearly in some amount of complaint but not much. He had not even thoroughly looked at her yet. That won`t do.

　　"Well, perhaps drink less," Scarletra retorted, smelling the heavy hops and decaying alcohol wafting off his breath.

　　Scarletra leaned over. Her lustrous silver hair draped down around him, making a curtain from the light, letting him open his eyes fully. Scarletra smiled gently and cupped his hands in one of hers, engulfing them in her soft fur.

　　"Is that better?" Scarletra breathfully whispered, filling the encapsulated area with the scent of the booze she was drinking and the floral odor of the soap she used while staring into his emerald eyes.

　　He smiled back and blushed slightly before releasing the can from one of his hands and grabbing hers. Well, the more gentle approach is working so far. Why stop now? Scarletra wondered how much more she could lead him to do right now. But how in the Great Mother`s name could she get him to make the first actual move?

　　 That was something she had no real idea how to do. Being forward was the only thing she ever did when it came to sex and desire. It`s what her mother demanded of her in the past. Or when she tried to get with some of the older men in the village.

　　Although Scarletra would admit, she felt more for him than just a sexual relationship. But she could not do much with that unless she could speak to him. With no other ideas, Scarletra decided to get him closer, tempting him to kiss her again.

　　Scarletra scooted her thigh further under him, bringing his head and body up onto her lap a little more and pressing her bust into his shoulder. After a short movement, her hand supported his shoulders and back while she turned so her head was facing the same way as his.

　　"Is that more comfortable?" Scarletra asked, fluttering her eyes slightly.

　　The man blushed slightly but smiled more. So far, so good. His hand slipped out of her grip and started to crawl up her arm toward her shoulder. With each centimeter, Scarletra`s heart sputtered faster while she prayed to the Great Mother for him to not stop. To not rebuke her yet again, this was working.

　　His hand caressed her shoulder and parted her hair slightly, letting in just enough light for his emerald eyes to practically glow. Good, focus on me for now, nothing else, Scareltra almost screamed in her mind.

　　Just before his hand cupped her cheek and pulled her closer, he paused. His eyes shifted to the small piece of gold on his finger. They locked onto it tightly before he sighed. No, no, no, you are so close, Scarletra bemoaned in her head.

　　"Don`t stop," Scarletra whispered.

　　That only caused his gorgeous eyes to shift from the metal and lose their lustrous, dream-filled focus moments before they swiftly morphed into contorted, deep pain. His hand snaked back out from their little embrace while he pushed off her lap. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author`s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　"Fuck, that was working," Scarletra grumbled under a breath while she sat up next to him. She felt like she had just had a fish steal her bait off a hook.

　　Scarletra looked over at him, and he was looking away from her. He shifted awkwardly for a few moments, covering his manhood and oozing a mixture of arousal and that odd tart scent again. He said a few short words and stood to head toward his room, leaving her alone—again.

　　While that ending was still not ideal. That was definitely progress compared to Scarletra`s previous attempts to get closer to him. He did not yell, nor was he forceful as he left. But that pained look in his eye—She had seen hints of it before. But that was her most clear view of it. What happened to him? Did she hurt him the other night? Did someone abuse him?

　　Scarletra fixed her hair and stood up, heading to the kitchen to make her host a cup of that strange tea he liked. She had a renewed sense of vigor. The subtle approach was working; she just had to keep at it.

　　Scarletra made it to the kitchen and pulled out what she needed. Despite her new fervor, one thing was bothering her. That ring he wore. While she did not know what it was, that piece of metal had something to do with his feelings. Did it belong to someone dear to him? The millions of possibilities of what the trinket could mean to him danced in her mind and stamped across her heart while she filled the mug and scooped in several tiny spoonfuls of the brown sandy substance into the hot water.

　　Scarletra watched it dissolve while stirring the liquid into his mug. She leaned in and took a heavy breath of the steam wisps rising off the water. The smell was strong, full-bodied, and sharp, making her shiver. She could not help but at least sip the odd black tea; who would not be curious about its taste. He liked it so much, after all.

　　Bringing the mug to her lips, Scarletra recoiled and yelped, spilling the liquid on the ground and her hands. The scalding liquid burned her lips and tongue. Thankfully, her fur was insulating enough that it did not affect her hands too much. She could feel the warmth, but it did not hurt at all.

　　 It was hot, far too hot— she was going to make more, allow it to cool, and then bring it to his room, but the man spoke off to her side. Surprised by his sudden appearance, she quickly shifted and saw that he was now dressed in his usual jumpsuit and had that necklace he had been working on the last few days in his grip. He had a wide-eyed look on his face and was saying something frantically.

　　"Sorry—I-I-I wanted to give this to you, but I messed up and now ruined it," Scarletra whined, gesturing at the black puddle on the floor. "Don`t worry, I can make more," She continued as she scooped the mug off the ground and turned back toward the kettle.

　　The man quickly stuffed the necklace in his pocket and walked beside her. He took her hands without missing a beat while looking at them intently before saying gentle words and tugging her closer toward a basin with a faucet similar to those in the washroom.

　　"I`m sorry. I didn`t mean to waste your drink. I will clean—" Scarletra started but stopped when he pulled her hands underneath the faucet and turned on the water, letting it flow over her hands.

　　He said a few short words, then looked at her with gentle concern. The look somewhat confused her. Why was he so worried? She only accidentally burnt her lips and tongue slightly. Her hands were not injured. Did he think she had burned them, too?

　　Scarletra tried to pull her hands out of the water when he released them, but he noticed and snapped at her shortly, pushing them back. Yeah, he definitely thinks that she scalded her hands.

　　"I didn`t burn them. But if it will make you feel better, I will leave them," Scarletra agreed.

　　Scarletra watched the man groaning and cleaned up the mess on the floor using a roll of pieces of what looked like rolled-up cloth. He should not be doing that—she could clean it, and it clearly somewhat hurt him to squat that low. He peaked up at her, watching him. Her observation did not seem to upset him. He smiled and spoke gently to her as he continued.

　　After he cleared her mess, with deft control, he quickly made himself another mug of whatever that odd tea was and a second cup of it. The man walked up to Scarletra and shut off the cold running water before gently wiping her hands with another of those cloth pieces. His grip was soft and controlled, treating Scarletra like a young cub who needed help.

　　Scarletra`s heart melted, feeling his grip coil in and around her fingers as he closely observed them for any burns. His stare was unbelievably intense. The only other time he had shown this kind of focus was working on the necklace she had broken.

　　"I`m alright; thank you for caring," Scarletra purred, taking his hands in hers.

　　The man looked back up at her and smiled somewhat awkwardly. He nodded and gently removed his hands from hers. He picked up the two mugs, handed one to her, and gestured for her to follow.

　　Scarltra slinked behind him and followed into the workshop. He settled onto the chair, placing his mug and the necklace on the table. He made a come here gesture. Was this the moment? Did he finally give in? Was he inviting her this time?

　　By the Great Mother, let this be it, Scarletra prayed.

　　Scarltra set her mug down next to his and sat before the man. The man gently guided her closer. By the Great Mother, this was actually happening. All it took was her not initiating, and he gave in. If she knew it was that easy, she would have just laid on his bed and waited. Scarletra could not help but wonder, was the whole thing a species issue. Maybe for his species, the males were the pursuers and initiators—a bit different if it was the case, but not a horrible thing. Either way, Scarltetra could get what she wanted—hopefully.

　　There still was the issue of whatever that ring was about, but maybe he had time to mull over his reservation that involved the trinket while she made him his drink.

　　Scarletra`s heart nearly burst when he guided her head into his plush, warm lap, ensuring it was running across it so she was looking away from him.

　　"Please don`t be messing with me," Scarletra whined, resting her hand on his thigh near her head. He just gave her a short, soft response that was so close to the tone he used in the bedroom that her mind started to run wild with ideas.

　　Scarletra peeked up at him, waiting, yearning to see what he would do to try and initiate something: kiss her, massage her ears, or maybe rub her shoulders? But when he started to move, she was immediately confused. The handsome man grabbed the necklace and gently placed it around her neck.

　　It looked nothing like the first one he had tried to give her, but Scarletra would not complain. She had not been given a gift since she was a cub, and he had worked so hard to craft her a gift. Who was she to turn down his hard work? Perhaps after whatever he had planned, she should make him a carving of something—does he like carvings? If so, what would he want? Those were other questions she had to figure out. The only way she could know was if she made one for him.

　　After a few more moments of her mind daydreaming about what he might do with and to her, the man moved his hand and gently caressed behind her ear several times; as he felt around, she lightly mewled as her anticipation grew. Something was different this time, though; he stopped pressing actively, yet she still felt something behind and just below her ear.

　　He reached around her head and touched the necklace for a few seconds, his chest gently pressing against her head. Now she was just confused—this was definitely not him finally trying to initiate. What was it?

　　 Then, something she had not expected at all happened that made her confusion shift straight into downright bewilderment.

　　 The necklace spoke to her.

　　 What kind of magic could make items speak? The other day, she had seen a moving piece of art where another alien was talking to him. She had no idea what caused that to happen, so that this gift could talk should not surprise her, but just like with that other alien, this device spoke in his language. Why? She can`t understand the thing if it`s his language.

　　"Hey, can you hear me now?" The man questioned softly.

　　Scarletra instantly froze in place—shock overwhelmed her. Did he just talk? No, No, No, she is just going crazy. That had to be it. There is no way those old stories from the elders were true. How in the Great Mothers domain could the GU actually, after a few days, just speak to you?

　　Scarletra nearly hyperventilated but sucked in a breath to hold herself steady; there were several moments of thunderous silence, and the only break in the nothingness was Scarltras slamming heart booming in her ears. Has she finally gone mad? Was this it? After years alone and hope, had she finally snapped?

　　"Well, shit. I think I have to adjust this thing. Hold on," The man said before reaching for where he cinched the necklace to her.

　　Scarletra grabbed his hand far more forcefully than she had intended to do to stop him. This thing let her understand him. Someone spoke to her, and she could understand them—-Scarletra thought she would never hear someone speak in a way she could comprehend ever again. For years, she talked to the Great Mother, the animals, and her carvings, but they could not reply. Now, here he was. How he was now speaking her language in her ear was beyond her comprehension, But that was not an issue anymore. She could just ask him.

　　She shot up from his lap and stared at him dumbfounded but filled with hope. Some of her mind still refused to believe what she had just heard was real. The handsome man winced slightly as she gripped his hand tighter and leaned closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart. Their hot breath mixed in the diminutive gap between them, both feeling the heat rising off the other. The man blushed heavily and swallowed as her eyes drilled holes into his.

　　"Say something again. Please tell me I`m not crazy, and I just heard you speak my language," Scarletra desperately pleaded.

　　"Uuhhh, you`re not going crazy—I think," The man awkwardly chuckled.

　　"By the Great Mother, I can understand you!!" Scartletra roared in delight while she shot up and scooped him up. She buried the man in the deepest, tightest embrace she had ever given anyone. "You have no idea how long it has been since I`ve heard anyone talk," She continued while lifting her host entirely off the ground, nuzzling and licking his salt and pepper hair while hugging him as hard as possible.

　　This was unreal. The great mother has given her a great gift, the greatest gift Scarletra had ever received. Not only someone Scarlera could speak to, but someone she could hold, cuddle, drink with, and they were easy on the eyes. Scarletra had never wanted anything else since she ran away from the village years ago—Now that gift was nestled and squirming in her arms.

　　—--

　　"You are amazing. I thought I would never get to talk to you. Who are you? What`s your name? Why are you here? What`s your Species? Was something wrong with my clothes? Why are you pushing me away? Are you obsessed with my tits or something? Why are you making me sleep in another room? Can I move back into your bed? Why don`t you wanna have sex with me again, even though I can smell you do? Why don`t you have fur? How does this necklace work?" Scaretra ranted, opening her barrage of every question she had accumulated.

　　Each inquiry overflowed from her faster by the moment until she was speaking so fast her tongue and lips could not keep up with her mind asking them.

　　With each question, Samuel`s lungs began to burn, and he began to lose his mind. The massive Varintol Woman scooping him up and treating him like a ragdoll was not what he had expected to happen at all when they could talk. He could not even process the barrage of questions she was shooting at him. His whole mind was locked onto the soft feeling of her fur, her crushing embrace, the overwhelming scent of flowers, and the fact that he was rapidly running out of oxygen as she squeezed the life out of him.

　　Samuel struggled hard against her embrace, doing everything he could short of hitting her to get free. But The Varintol woman was on cloud nine. She was not even paying attention to anything he was saying or doing for nearly a minute.

　　"I caaa— Brrree-" Samuel wheezed into the warm, satin mountain of the Varintol woman`s breasts.

　　But Samuel making any noise did not help slow her diatribe. He was overwhelmed by everything she was saying. Her booming celebration echoed off the walls, filling the room with tremendous sound pressure.

　　Samuel felt the pressure in his back and body increasing as her vice-like grip crushed his chest and lungs. Every time he moved, her grip rose in force; it was like he was thrashing in quicksand, each motion only sinking him further. A painful popping sensation rolled down his spine, causing him to yelp. Too bad his cries of pain were also covered by the woman`s thunderous voice. He started to panic at this point; she was moments away from killing him.

　　The last time she tackled him, punching her did get her attention, at least. Samuel felt terrible about doing this because merely yelling at her made her cry. If he hit her again—-this could not go well. But he was drowning in her breasts and would pass out in seconds if he did not escape. He only knew this because the sounds of his own heartbeat were overtaking all other sounds.

　　In absolute desperation, Samuel flailed as much as possible. Which was not much with his arms pinned down. So the only real hit he managed was driving a knee into her plush thigh. Thank god it got her attention.

　　She yelped and loosened her grasp slightly, letting Samuel pop his head from between her breasts. He gasped for air and opened his eyes. The edges of his vision snapped back from darkness. Samuel had never thought a hug would put him in a perilous situation. But here he was.

　　"Hey, why did you kick me?" The massive woman whined, looking down at him like he betrayed her.

　　"You-almost—suffocated—me!" Samuel sputtered through gasping breaths.

　　"Oh, Great Mother. I`m so sorry. I didn`t mean to do that," The woman explained, desperation for forgiveness, oozing off her words and evident in her wide golden eyes. "So, can you answer the questions I asked?"

　　"One step at a time. Please set me down, and let`s get some introductions done&whatever your name is," Samuel said.

　　"Of course, I`m sorry it`s been years since I`ve spoken to anyone. I am so excited," The woman squealed, setting Samuel back on the ground and taking a step back, giving him an arm`s reach of breathing room. "My name is Scarletra Ursana—-Well, I suppose former Ursana—-I`m actually not sure If I still should use that tribe name," Scarletra said, scrunching her brow.

　　Scarletra did that for a few seconds before shrugging away the errant thought of what proper name she should use. She just decided to drop her former tribe`s name. It did not matter to her anymore. "Please just call me Scarletra. And who are you?"

　　"My name is Samuel Martin. It`s nice to finally meet you properly, I suppose," Samuel said, having finally caught his breath. "Now, what questions did you ask me? I was a little occupied with not dying when you asked them."

　　Scarletra blushed slightly and sat back down in front of him, grabbing his hand and pulling it in close. She paused for a few moments and gave Samuel a wide, toothy smile filled with heartwarming joy that pressed her blush onto him. "Ok, so what I asked was—"