Door number one goes by.
“You’re from the twenty-first century. You graduated summa cum laude with a double major and a minor.” I pass door number two.
My footsteps slow of their own accord.
I chew the insides of my cheeks and force myself to continue. “Go big or go home.”
Decision made, I stop in front of door number three, which stands slightly ajar. Raising my hand to knock on the solid wood, I shift and my boot catches on the too-long hem of Diana's dress.
I snatch at the frame and manage to right myself.
My jaw drops at the scene revealed by the half-open door.
Behind a large, burnished desk stands a man who is the epitome of the Viking god Thor. Massive shoulders, chiseled pectorals, arms a logger would envy, a long, flowing, golden mane, and the profile of an immortal deity. He wears not a stitch of clothing, and the enormous erection he sports mesmerizes me. I can’t drag my eyes from his huge, engorged penis.
He doesn’t notice me, and I understand why when my gaze drops.
A half-naked woman lies sprawled on the top of the desk, which is located parallel to the far wall instead of fronting the doorway. She’s angled so I can see the profile of her face and body clearly. Her head’s half-resting on one elbow and her chin’s tilted back, exposing a slender, graceful neck.
I catch a glimpse of a blue pendant dangling from a thick-linked gold chain hanging to one side. A mane of glossy ringlets are spread in a perfect array around her head and shoulders.
She’s wearing a thin, transparent nightgown, which is scrunched above her waist. Her legs hang down from the desk, and a triangle of pale blonde curls at the apex of her thighs shimmers in the dancing flames of the candles attached to sconces on the opposite wall.
He cups himself.
Fascinated, I follow his tanned fingers as he strokes back his foreskin to reveal the reddened head of his penis.
A heated paralysis strangles my brain. I lick my lips when a thick, pearly drop oozes from the glistening slit in the center of the crown of his cock.
Lightning crackles. Thunder booms.
His head whips around and our stares collide.
Ted was such an ass. Using my best whiny voice I cried, “Go away. I have a migraine.”
“You think I give a fuck?”
I flinched as the warlord’s furious mind swept the house. I was impressed. It had taken him all of thirty seconds to realize he had been tricked.
“Zoey!” Ted roared.
“I need to comb my hair,” I answered in a frightened voice.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he snarled and stomped down the stairs.
If the warlord wasn’t here, I’d give Ted a good mental shove down the stairs. I went into the bathroom and pulled out my makeup. Time to ugly myself up. Five minutes later I limped down the stairs and came to a dead stop. Even with my psychic abilities locked down tightly, I could sense another powerful Coletti warlord inside the general’s office. Thank God it wasn’t Scary Guy. I had a horrible feeling he would know who I was the minute he saw me.
An evil grin curled my mouth. Just wait until they got a sniff of my eau de dead skunk perfume. I knocked timidly on the door.
“Come in,” my father growled.
I opened the door and got my first look at the Coletti. He was a big dude, and, to my surprise, really cute, if you were into the whole merciless-predator thing. His black battle suit displayed an amazing amount of muscles, and he wore large bronze bracelets on each arm. A bronze chain was woven into one of his ebony warrior braids. He was definitely high up on the food chain.
“Jaylan, this is my daughter, Zoey.”
The warlord’s stunned gaze swept over my greasy black hair that hung in clumps around my pale, zit-covered face, and paused for a minute on the black raccoon-like circles around my eyes. He eyed my Hunchback of Notre Dame outfit in outright horror, and his nose wrinkled in disgust as my scent hit him.
It was all I could do not to giggle. Hideous didn’t even begin to describe me. There wasn’t a man or warlord alive who would want to touch me.
“It is an honor to finally meet you, Zoey.” Baring his awesome fangs in a scarily polite smile, he held out his hand diplomatically.
What a liar. Time to get the fun started. I scuttled round the desk and hid behind the general. “Please, don’t let him eat me.”
The general gagged. “My God! What is that smell?”
“My new medicine,” I squeaked, letting the tears roll. My cheap mascara would soon be running down my face in nice black streaks.
Jaylan took a step back, and his copper-colored skin turned a ghastly green color.
I had to admit the stench was pretty horrific. I might have overdone it just a tad. Thankfully the Vapor Rub up my nose kept me from hurling. I clutched the general’s jacket. “Please, sir, don’t let him hurt me.”
My father jerked away from me and vomited into the wastebasket. The big warlord grabbed it away from the general and puked violently.
Who knew warlords had such weak stomachs? A beep sounded in my earpiece. Marie’s signal that Ted was coming with a tray of her nice powdered-sugar-covered cakes and coffee. My plan was coming together perfectly.
Right on cue, Ted stepped in the room. I let out a bloodcurdling shriek and ran for the door.
Jaylan instinctively leaped out of my way and crashed into Ted.
He staggered off balance, desperately trying to keep the tray from falling. I stuck out my foot and tripped him.
The tray tipped over, raining cakes and coffee all over Jaylan and my father.
A stunned look on his face, Jaylan stared at the coffee running down his spiffy boots and the pieces of smashed cake decorating his battle suit.
“Susan Summerhouse, what are you doing?”
Any normal person would be able to tell what I was doing, but Allison Monroe was not normal. She was never normal when we were in school together and now that we are in our thirties she is still not normal. Let me explain. Here in front of me stood a 5’1, petite woman and it was before eight on a Saturday morning and she was already perky. She bounced around in her pink jogging suit and her long, blond ponytail bounced right along with her. Everything about her was perfect. She even made being a divorced woman of two times look perfect. Standing next to Allison was like standing next to a live electrical wire that had just came off the pool. You knew you had to kill it, you just had to figure out how without harming yourself in the process.
“You’re not eating that stuff are you?” Allison asked as she pointed to the glass case full of any doughnut a doughnut lover would ever want.
Okay, I’m not one to lie but if she can’t figure it out then I wasn’t going to tell her. “No, of course not. I just wanted to get a bottle of water.” I had been standing in the long line for the last ten minutes trying to decide if I was going to get the chocolate glazed-pecan covered doughnut or the strawberry glazed doughnut. After the week I had, I deserved both but I knew I only need one. You see, I, Susan Summerhouse am not 5’1, blond and sure as hell not perky at 8 in the morning. Nope I’m 5’6 if I stand up straight, and my hair is dirty brown right now, but when I wash it….well it’s still dirty brown. And my weight, let me just say no one ever called me petite. My mother would tell me when I was younger I was just a big boned girl, I never believed it but it was nice of her to try. And I made nothing look perfect, here lately I had the feeling I was far from being even in the vicinity of anything perfect. The only thing Allison and I had in common at this moment was we both had on jogging suits, if you considered my gray sweat pants and a black sweat shirt that I had picked up off my closet floor and threw on, an actual jogging suit.
“You mean like butt sex!” A hairy thing called out, taller than seven feet and seriously hideous.
The falla nodded his head. “Indeed. There are no women on this planet.” There was a grunt from the hairy thing and he stormed out the open doors. No one followed and the Falla continued. “There are two servants going around. They will need your name and they will measure the length of your penis to be sure you meet the requirements.”
Fuck. Drayton shifted his neck from side to side and then cracked his knuckles. Soon everyone would know he had an erection to break steel.
“And what if we have two dicks!” Someone in the crowd called out.
Despite Drayton’s craning neck, he couldn’t find the speaker.
Falla responded, “We will make a note and measure both then.”
Drayton watched as men began to pull down various forms of garment to reveal their dicks. Some made his mouth water and his dick leak. Like that guy to his left that was built like a warrior from the old earth. He had muscle upon muscle and his hard dick bobbed out of his pants like a gift. Drayton’s vision was blocked by a Falla who stood before him with a small flat screen and a measure stick.
“Name?” The voice purred to him.
“Captain Drayton Starberg.”
The falla made a note on the screen. “Please remove your clothing so I may measure you penis.”
How could those words be emotionless and arousing at the same time? Drayton dropped the bag from his shoulder. He then unzipped his jeans and slid them down so his cock slipped free. The length curved, jutting forth and practically begging to be touched. Damn it, it hadn’t been that long since he got some ass.
The falla’s blue hands reached out and wrapped around his dick. It took all of Drayton’s will power not to groan as his cock was tugged and then the cold measure stick placed against his taut skin. He bit the inside of his mouth as the falla got to his knees to read the measurement. This sexy thing was inches from his dick and he stared down. Enjoying this way too much. Then a drop of pre-cum oozed from his hole. Well, that was sort of like starting the show before the curtains were up. The falla nodded his head and then swiped a finger over the liquid. This time Drayton did groan, short and low. The falla stood, made a mark on the screen and nodded. “Very nice. You may cover up your penis.”