Close Encounters Of The Erotic Kind: A Sci-fi Anthology

It's erotica that's out of this world! For the first time, four of Alana Church's sci-fi stories in one anthology! Whether it's in your home town or in outer space, when horny aliens come to visit humanity, the only answer is yes!



~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~



From "Sexually Transmitted Desire":



That's when it happened. Despite what Ariel had said, he hadn't quite believed it. But Stacey's scent suddenly rolled over him, intoxicating in all of its wonderful complexity.



She was like a flower. But not like a rose. It was more subtle, more complex, with inner layers that made him close his eyes and breathe in deeply, trying to puzzle out every hidden meaning.



~Yes,~ Ariel's mind voice held more than a hint of a hidden smirk. ~You are compatible. Very much so.~



"Albert?" Stacey's voice was faint. "Are you wearing a new cologne?"



He looked at her. Her eyes were wide, and she swayed toward him, her chest heaving as she inhaled deeply.



"Damn," she breathed. "That smells so good." Before he knew it, her hand was splayed across his chest, her fingers wide. She moved closer. "You smell good. Why didn't I ever notice that before?"



"I don't know." He thanked the fact that his jeans were substantially more roomy than they had been a few short hours ago. Otherwise, the evidence of his arousal would be plain for anyone to see. "I want-''



Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by a thunderous roar. A large car, its engine idling menacingly, pulled up in front of the house.



Stacey scowled, pulling away from him. "Jerk," she muttered.



The front door of her house opened, and Lauren bounced down the front steps. It had been several weeks since he had seen the young woman, and it seemed she had made quite a change to her wardrobe. A tight, midriff-baring top, stenciled with the words, 'You Can't Afford Me,' barely contained a pair of breasts which were at least as large as her mother's. Below, she wore a skirt...well, Albert supposed it had to be a skirt, because it seemed too long to be a leather belt. Regardless, when she raised her arms to indulge in a long kiss with her boyfriend, it rode up so high on her thighs that Albert could see the bottoms of her buttocks.



"Lauren." Stacey's voice was tired. "Where are you going?"



"Out. With Chad." She nodded at the man, who was leaning against the car.



"When will you be back?"



"When I get back." She tossed her head and climbed into the car, her hair a cascading river of black. "Don't wait up.



"By the way," Lauren called, as the car growled back to life. "You're looking good, Bert." She raised her voice as she leaned out the window. "Maybe you can help Mom get that stick out of her butt!"



As the car rounded a corner and disappeared, Albert looked at Stacey, then away, clapping one hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter.



"You think that's funny?"



"No." He tried to put on a properly sober expression, then gave up. "I was just reminded of all the times my little sister stormed out of the house when she was a teenager, screaming that no one understood her and she hated us all.



"Which would have been hilarious even if she weren't five foot nothing and cute as a button."



"Lauren isn't cute," Stacey growled.



"No." He smiled. "She's a beautiful young woman. I'm sure it's just a phase."



Stacey scowled up at him. "Are you fantasizing about my daughter?"