What was she doing here?
Dr. Chloe Michel sat at the bar of the Dark Star Lounge, drinking her Friday night away. Or well, whatever amounted to the end of the week here. After submitting her application to Huerta Memorial, complete with glowing recommendations from some of the senior doctors, she realised that she had nothing left to do, so she’d decided to wander around Zakera Ward to see how things were down there.
As it turned out, not only had Commander Shepard come back from the dead after getting blown up with the Normandy, he was happily hawking products at every single store on Level 27. She was stunned. Was it possible? And even so, what the hell was he doing there of all places? Her mind spinning, she tried asking around at some of the stores about his whereabouts, but apparently, he and the Normandy SR-2 had taken off already.
He hadn’t even dropped by to check in on her.
Commander John Shepard, assuming he had indeed returned and that this wasn’t an impersonator or a clone or something even worse, was the one man who might’ve known something about where Garrus had gone after his apparent death two years ago. Garrus did at least have the decency to write one final goodbye, cryptic as it was, stating that he’d had enough of the direction the Citadel council and C-Sec had taken after the Sovereign incident, and he was leaving for elsewhere, somewhere he could do some good.
After that? Not a word. Not one. No indication whatsoever or where this place was, or if he was still thinking about her, or even if he was still…well, best not to go down that route.
And so, to forget all about that, she’d found herself wandering up the stairs to the next level, where the music blasting from Dark Star hadn’t failed to get her attention. Maybe she’d feel better about this, and actually be looking forward to the results of her application to Huerta after a drink. Or two. Or maybe seven. She’d lost count after that, barely registering the white-patterned turian drawing up beside her at the bar.
He was almost as pixilated as her, a drunken slur evident in his flanged voice as he turned to her. “Hey you, you’re a human, aren’t you?”
Crossing her eyes as she tried to reconcile the two or three afterimages and trying to puzzle out his comment, she said, “Oui…yes, I am. Have you not seen many?”
“Lady, I shipped in from Palaven a month back. This is a whole new world to me. The reason I…the reason I asked is that you humans have that green drink I like, but I’ll be damned if I can remember it. You know what I’m talking about?”
Re-crossing her eyes as she tried to focus, she eventually remembered. “Oh yes, la fée verte…Absinthe. Absinthe is what you’re thinking about.”
“Excellent. Thanks, human,” he said, turning to the bartender. “Hey, barkeep! Give a shot…actually, gimme a double of Lah-Fayee-Verte. Dextro, obviously.”
The salarian stared at him.
“Uh, I mean a double ab-synth. You got those here, don’t you?”
Giving Chloe a doubtful look, the bartender nodded at the turian, returning with a bottle of the green stuff and a large glass, pouring it out to the latter’s satisfaction. He scooped it up and drank half of it in a single gulp, wiping the dribble away from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Ah, now that’s a drink! Figured you’d have to come to the Citadel to get something decent. You see, on Palaven we don’t have all that many crops we can brew things with, so usually we just drown grain ethanol with something sweet or something bitter and call that bartending. You ever try to drink out of a fuel cell? It’s basically like that.”
Her floating focus tightening, along with what seemed like a vice clamped around her temples, Chloe replied, “That’s very interesting, Mister…Turian.”
“Oh! Right, I never bothered to introduce myself. My name’s Nediar Wilihierax, but lotsa people call me ‘Ned’ or ‘Wil’, because apparently turian names are too much of a mouthful for you lot. I’m the new groundskeeper on the Presidium.”
“I’m Dr. Michel, but you can call me Chloe,” she said, weakly raising her half-empty glass.
“Doctor…you mean like the scholar kind, or a medical kind?” he asked.
“Dr. Chloe Michel, M.D. I oversaw a clinic in Tayseri Ward until the Sovereign incident. God willing, I’m going to be posted to Huerta soon.”
“Well,” he said, “congratulations on moving up in the world. Well, figuratively. Or literally, depending on how you see it.”
Their glasses clinked, and they finished the remainder of their drinks, Chloe ordering two absinthes, one dextro and one levo, the latter containing a little umbrella to denote it.
“Say,” Ned asked, “mind if I ask you something? I tried asking the last human after I answered his questions about fish on the Presidium, but I don’t think he really understood what I was getting at.”
“Ask away,” she drawled.
“You’re a female, right?”
Chloe stared at him. “Uh, yes?”
“Okay, because I tried asking an asari about this and she got up in my face about bigendered cultural supremacy or something. But like them, you’ve got those funny bumps on the front of your chest, but yours are pointier and they’re usually rounder. They keep trying to dance with me, and putting aside turian dancing skills, they keep getting in the way. So, what are they? What’re they for?”
She was still staring at him, now with anger instead of confusion.
“Uh, Doc, are you all right?” he asked, after a few seconds.
“Are you serious, Mister Nediar?” she said, now glaring at him. This has been going…well, as well as could be up to this point given her circumstances. But, as it turned out, he was just a boor. Or a pervert. Whichever was worse.
“Yes I am, Chl…uh, Dr. Michel!” Ned responded defensively. “Turian females don’t really have those bumps, and I don’t get it. I’m sorry if this is an offensive question in human culture, but given that half of you guys have them, and every single asari has them, surely it can’t be that much of a taboo?”
Realising that he’d really been asking purely out of curiosity, she softened her gaze, and straightened herself up. “All right, you’re a groundskeeper, aren’t you?”
“You know about animals as well as plants?”
“Okay,” she said, drawing in a breath before she began the lecture. “Turians are related to birds on Earth, whereas humans and asari are mammals, or close enough. You know how mammals are defined in scientific literature?”
Straining to remember past the haze of absinthe, Ned said, “Uh, mammary glands?”
“Well done,” Chloe said. She gestured at her own breasts. “These contain mammary glands. When we or asari bear children, for the first part of their lives, they rely on nutrients in our milk to survive and develop their tissues.”
He looked down, blinking somewhat uncomprehendingly. “So, your females and asari just walk around all day with two Tupari cans on your chests? That’s…kind of cool, actually.”
Rolling her eyes, Chloe said, “No, we don’t ‘walk around dangling drink cans from our chests’. We mostly only produce this milk when we bear children. At other times, they essentially only serve as sources of stimulation.”
If he could raise an eyebrow, Ned just did. “…Stimulation?”
“Undoubtedly due to their role in feeding the young, human men, and some women, have a biological imperative to feel desire for them. They’re a secondary sexual characteristic, not unlike your mandibles…or the dip around your hip plates…or occasionally the tips of your…spurs…” she said, tailing off as she realised she had been sizing the groundskeeper up.
As far as turian men went, he wasn’t bad-looking in the least. He was as well-cut as any, and even in his drunken movements, his shoulders and waist showed signs of the sort of strength and dexterity he needed for his job. And, well, if she squinted and imagined a few patches of blue tattoos on his face, it really wouldn’t be far off from her dear Garrus. It barely took a few seconds to make her decision.
“Uh, Chloe, are you okay?” he asked concernedly.
She didn’t reply, not before downing her shot of absinthe.
Sidling up to him just a bit too closely, she said, “Mr. Wilihierax, I realise I’ve been describing this matter from such a…coldly…clinical…perspective. Tell me all about analogous points on your turian women. I’m sure you know a thing or two about…what makes them tick.”
“Well, uh,” he gulped, “First off, ‘Nediar’ will do just fine, lady. ‘Mr. Wilihierax’ is my father.”
“I didn’t know turians had that convention,” she said, tilting her head towards him.
“Heh. A bit of human humour. The other thing is that I don’t…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck while trying to find the words.
Leaning back out, Chloe said, “Oh, if you’re not…I’m sorry if…”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, it’s not that! I’m sure that if you were a turian I’d be appreciating this much more. It’s just…you’ve got those funny bumps…and even then I wouldn’t know the first thing about pleasuring human women after that and…”
“Shh,” she whispered, pressing her finger to his mouth, or where he’d have lips. “I think I can help you make all those asari a bit jealous. And once I’m done, you’ll know all about pleasuring them as well. Maybe after you learn how to dance too.”
“You mean…humans and asari…
She shrugged her shoulders. “Almost exactly the same, with some variations. Finish your drink and I’ll show you why human men love ‘those funny bumps’ so much.”
Two seconds later, he was done, and she took him by the wrist to a more secluded corner of Dark Star.
Seizing his other wrist, she placed his palms on her breasts, pressing them gently into her soft flesh. A moan escaped her throat, and she felt a long-suppressed heat pool up in her womb. At first still, he slowly rubbed her breasts with his hands, leading to more moaning. She felt her cheeks warm up too, and before long she was rubbing her thighs together, trying to get some measure of relief.
Breathing deeply, she looked up at his face, which was practically as flushed as a turian’s could get under all those plates. Looking into his eyes, she gasped, “Find my nipples…those are the smaller bumps on my breasts…with your thumbs. That’s where the milk comes from. They’re…more sensitive.”
With some fumbling, he found them, massaging them through her bra. Chloe bucked against air, spreading her knees to find his thigh, thrust forward instinctually, and she lewdly ground her pelvis against his, wetness building up as well as heat. Her hands reached forward, finding his waist and dipping down to that fold in his hip plates, and she heard his wonderfully flanged groan of pleasure before long.
Driving her knee against his crotch plates and rubbing hard against them, she found him hitch his breath, and slowly let go to nuzzle her cheek.
“Ned? Why did you…?” she asked.
“If we’re going to do that,” he said, whispering into her ear, “we’ll need to go somewhere else. Turian clothes aren’t really designed for, uh, emergence.”
Still breathing heavily, she turned his head around to face her. “My place or yours?”
“Mine’s on the Presidium. Came with the job. Yours?”
“Bachjret, Lower Wards. I’m feeling grandiose tonight. Lead the way.”
“Alright”, he said, turning to go.
“Wait,” she said, not moving.
“Huh?” Ned asked, wheeling around.
“Take me by the arm as though you were going for a ball, or a civil ceremony, or whatever the hell it is you Turians do to show your women off. Walk past every single asari between us and the door. They won’t forget you after tonight for sure.”
“Okay,” he said, taking her elbow with his and walking with all the immaculate dignity of a drunken, horny, turian, pulling her along as she rushed to keep pace. She could feel the jealous eyes of his usual crowd on her. It felt…surprisingly good.
How many times had he been down here, appearing so aloof purely due to his ignorance? How many times had he been propositioned and just been unaware of what they wanted? It was like summiting a forbidden peak, or seizing the holy grail from under their noses.
One taxi ride later, they were at his apartment, and no sooner had the door closed were they at it again, Chloe shoving him against the corridor wall and pulling and tugging at the straps of his shirt and trousers, desperately trying to get them out of her way. He gently took her by her wrists, releasing her to disrobe quickly and efficiently. Just like a turian.
“One moment,” she said. “Are you tested?”
He nodded. “Yes. On Menae, just before I got over.”
“Good. Well, that’s enough medical concern.” She placed the base of her palm on his crotch plates, rubbing them sensually. She ordered him, “Get your cock out.”
He nodded, and flexing his equivalent of his kegel muscles, relaxed his plates, and the head of his penis slowly emerged. It wasn’t the first time Chloe had ever seen one, even outside of a medical textbook, but given that all those times had been in her clinic, having to treat one ailment or the other, she’d never seen one in an amorous light. Well, not in person, anyway, but her extranet history might’ve had something to say about that.
It was big by human standards, easily seven inches long and girthier than most. It even had ridges, to better secure it in the female cloacae. She took it gently in her hand, and by the lord, the groan he made as she did would be enough to keep her warm for many nights alone. Lowering herself to her knees, she massaged the shaft and parted her lips to kiss-
-apparently nothing, as he recoiled violently, retreating a couple of steps back into his room and extending his palm at her as though he was warding off a demon.
“What the hell are you doing, lady?!” he asked, uncomprehendingly.
“…pleasuring you with my mouth?”
“Your mouth?!” he asked, almost screeching through his translator. “Are you insane?”
Standing up, Chloe looked him firmly in the eye. “Ned, this is among the highest compliments – of a kind – a human male can receive. Look at my mouth and see how pointed my teeth are, or, well, how blunt they are.”
While he stared at her open mouth, which she moistened with her tongue in an obscene fashion, she took the liberty of unbuckling her jacket and casting it to the floor, pulling each glove off with determination and throwing them into the pile. Reaching below her beltline, Chloe teased her own pussy as she watched Ned study her.
“Okay, that makes a little more sense. I’m sorry for…well…reacting like that, but I guarantee you any turian male would never consider sticking theirs into a female’s maw. Too many pointed ends in there.”
“Of course. No offense taken. We humans, and asari, have the benefit of lips as well.” She kissed him on the mouth to demonstrate her point. She asked, “Aren’t these soft?”
“Don’t you want them around your cock?” she asked, pleadingly.
He nodded, this time a bit more vigorously. “Please, just be…gentle.”
She nodded in response, pushing him to sit on the edge of his bed. “Just relax.”
Kneeling on the carpeted ground, she worked his cock back up to its full length – up close, it seemed even bigger than before – and kissed his shaft, before coming to the slit at the tip of his head, licking it gently and eliciting yet another throaty groan. Chloe closed her eyes, pretending that the turian cock she was making love to, and the rumbles in his thorax, were someone else’s, and suddenly she was just that much more wet.
After teasing him for a while more, she took in the entirety of his head, slowly, gently, pointedly without teeth, and sucked on it, taking it in bit by bit and intensifying the vacuum down her throat. He was thrashing in pleasure, and she gripped him by the hips to steady herself, finding that sweet spot at his hips yet again as his cock edged closer and closer to the back of her throat.
Finally, feeling that he wouldn’t last much longer if she kept this up, she released his cock, which left her mouth with a gentle pop, and stood up again, unclipping her bra with a single flick of her fingers behind her back, and letting it drop into his lap. Chloe pushed Ned down onto the bed, crawling up onto him so that her tits were in his face.
“Kiss them,” she said, cupping her breasts and stroking her nipples. “Kiss them like you were sucking on a woman’s mandibles. Bite them, Nediar. Bite them gently.”
He nodded compliantly, his mouth homing in on her right nipple. The tight turian mouth gently gripped it and his tongue – oh Christ, that wonderful long tongue of his, and what it could do – lapped at it like a cat with milk. Finding his hand, Chloe drove it below her trousers, shoving it against her panty-clad pussy and guiding his fingers to stroke her labia. She ground and bucked against his hand as he licked and sucked at her rock-hard nipple, driving it to the point of overstimulation.
“Ned,” she gasped, “suck the other one.”
He released her right nipple, and went for her left, and she rode his hand as though her life depended upon it, tears streaking down her face as she drove herself closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, until finally, like a dam unable to withstand a torrential river, she broke through it, cumming hard against him until she was quivering in pure pleasure, as though held aloft by his hands and mouth alone.
“Oh, oh, oh – je viends – oh Lord – yes!” she screamed, finally flopping down.
Catching her breath, Chloe rolled off the turian, turning to face him as they both lay back on his bed.
“I need you. I need you now,” she said, panting.
He got up, getting ready to mount her from the front. “Uh, I can get a cond…”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. Chirality and all, remember? You’re tested, I’m clean.”
“Oh, right. Galaxy loves diversity and everything. At least let me get a towel.”
“If you must,” she said, pulling her boots and pants off and getting back on her hands and knees, perched close to the end on his bed.
He came back, laying it below her, and then…waited and stared. “Uh,” he muttered.
She turned her head to look at him from behind her shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
“I…well…this is how varren have sex, isn’t it?” he asked, confused.
Rolling her eyes, she said, “Yes, we on Earth call it ‘doggy-style’, or ‘en levrette’. It’s easier on the back, and given your – ah – endowment, it’ll be easier going on me.”
“Don’t you find it, I don’t know…” he said, shrugging.
“Not in the least. Many human women like it this way. Now shut the fuck up and get on your knees behind me,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, getting up onto the bed without further complaint, although now his eyes were darting between her ass and her pussy. He observed, “You’ve got…two holes.”
“Oh, right. Yes, no cloaca. Fuck the bigger, longer, one further down my body. Some women, and asari, like it in the hole between their buttocks. I don’t.”
“This one?” he asked, the tip of his cock pressing against the gap between her pussy lips.
That slight touch alone was enough to electrify her.
”Oh my god, yes,” she moaned. “That one.”
Slowly, almost agonisingly so, the head of his cock slipped into her pussy, and she felt his hands reach for her hips, around that magical spot for turian females. Having Ned’s cock in her mouth had been one thing. Feeling his girth stretch her out as his head pushed forward inch by incredible inch, complete with those wonderful ridges, was another entirely. Chloe jammed her eyes shut, fantasising that instead of this eccentric turian it was Garrus, her Garrus, fucking her from behind.
It was indescribable. At first barely noticing the rhythm in his hips, Ned drove his cock deeper and harder into her, intensifying the thrusts of his body against hers as he fucked her harder with every stroke. As she reached for her clit with one hand, the strength in her other gave out under the weight of her body, and her face landed gently on the pillow in front of her as her free hand grasped at the sheets in pure ecstasy.
She turned her head, talking to Ned. “Tilt down a little. Lean forward and tease my nipples. Fuck me harder. I’m so close…oh god…I’m so close…”
His cockhead driving harder and harder at her G-spot, and his hands reaching from her breasts and talons scratching at her tits, slow but oh so wonderfully sharp, it didn’t take long for Chloe to come undone. Screaming into the pillow, she came all over his cock, and seconds later, with a roar that echoed in every corner of the apartment, he, too, reached completion, and shot his load first deep into her cunt, soon filling it up, and even as he withdrew it, turian cum came down her thighs in dribbles, splattering all over the towel.
Chloe sank her shoulders down, snuggling on the pillow even as she kept her ass stuck in the air in that lewd pose. “You made a mess.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll get another tow…”
“No,” she said, interrupting him. “One last lesson.”
Chloe rolled over, spreading her cum-soaked thighs. “Get on the ground. Use that tongue of yours and clean yourself off me.”
He nodded, scrambling to the ground as she shifted forward to the edge of her bed, reversing their positions from before. The rough end of his tongue came snaking out of his mouth – even that was longer than its human counterpart, even if it was barely half the width – and started lapping at her thighs. Ned worked his way up methodically, gathering up each drop he’d squirted into her, eventually reaching the juncture of her hips.
She groaned, gripping him by his head fringes and driving his face closer to her pussy. Before long, she was on the brink of cumming yet again, and her thighs gripped his head tight between them. Like this, with his face buried in her cunt, she closed her eyes and imagined her fantasy again, even as that incredible tongue of his found her clit, accidentally at first, then again and again once he realised the effect he was having on her.
“Oh god, yes, you’re so smart, you found it…even human men can’t find it half the ti…oh my god, yes, so good, so good…yes, G-g-” she screamed, catching herself as she nearly shouted the wrong name halfway through. Taking only half a second to recover, she came once more, screaming Nediar’s name over and over as he viciously lapped at her folds.
She released him, and he released her, exhaustedly leaning against her thigh and looking up at her, her pussy juices coating his maw and mandibles. “Was that…”
Chloe nodded. “Best turian I’ve ever had,” she said coyly, then blinking as she realised just what’d she said, and the hollow in the heart those words had left.
A smile emerging on his face, Nediar asked, “Will I see you again?”
Stroking his head fringes tenderly, she responded, “Maybe. But now you know what to do with all those asari who eye you up at Dark Star.”
“I want you.”
They locked glances for a long moment, before Chloe leaned in to peck him on the maw, tasting herself, with a little bit of his own juices, on his mouth. “I’ve taught you all I know. Find some pretty asari with big, round, funny bumps and show her a good time.”
He nodded sadly, getting the drift. Chloe stood up, looking for her clothes. “Have you got a shower in here?”
Nediar gestured to the second door on the left as he picked up the towel, soaked through with their sweat and arousal. As the shower door closed on her, Chloe turned on the water, rinsing off all trace of the furious passion she’d just shared in the bedroom, wondering if she’d ever get to show her gratitude to Garrus in this fashion…wherever he was out there.