Her breath enveloped him, strangely pleasing; she roumaled softly in her throat. The emerald crest pulsed as if it, of itself, was a living, breathing thing.
“The Barzitrix are like that,” the girl laughed, “assertive, like all females.”
She laughed again; the sound was of music and ice. She closed the half-door, flipped the seat back into place and got in behind the wheel. She pulled the door closed, clipped her seat belt in place and started the engine. He couldn’t take his eyes off the Barzitrix.
The girl turned to him. He looked into her face. Slowly, deliberately, she undid the top two buttons of her blouse and pulled back the collars baring the tops of her breasts. She sat back in the seat and eased the truck into gear. As they accelerated, he took a deep breath, watched her profile and asked, “Where are we going?”
“West and Out!” she said.
“What about the Barzicon,” he ventured, turning again to gaze into the eyes of the Barzitrix, “she won’t hurt him will she?
“She will wait for our union.” Then she whispered, “I so hope she likes you!”
The Barzitrix stared with her four eyes into his, rolled up her lip and ran her double tongue slowly along the twin rows of teeth. Softly, she began to coo.
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end: The Barzicon