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sinisterexaggerator · 7 months

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Bossk x AFAB Reader

Summary: You join a small crew of other mercenaries on the lookout for your next big score, but there is time to kill before the hunt begins and you have an itch to scratch -- one that only a Trandoshan can reach with his sharp talons.

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for size kink, cumflation, kissing, PiV sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, alcohol consumption, and straight-up monsterfucking. Includes a little fluff, aftercare, and cuddling. Ending inspired by this artwork. P.S.: Bossk has two dicks.

Word count: 7500+

Notes: This is my first time writing for Bossk. I'm not sure if anyone will even read this or how many Bossk fans there are, but I've had it in my head to write a Bossk smut for a few months now, and I finally had time to do it! I haven't been able to publish anything in awhile, but I'm now settled in my new place and happy to get back into the swing of things.

*Banner and divider by me.

Bossk'wassak'Cradossk was a mouthful in more ways than one, you imagined. Luckily, to call a Trandoshan by his or her full name was not customary, and you were to be spared trying to pronounce anything but “Bossk.”

You had done your homework, impressing at least one of your new acquaintances, though that did not stop the reptilian-humanoid from introducing himself with a flash of his tongue. His preferred, shortened title was spoken so thunderously that it overpowered the cacophony of other voices in the bar. It was enough to ensure you would not make the same mistake twice.

That one syllable had been expelled between two rows of knife-sharp teeth, your eyes unable to focus on anything but this beast’s mouth -- that was until you noticed his head tilting incrementally to the left. He was regarding you curiously, a snorted breath being discharged from his flaring nostrils. It seems he had asked you a question and you had failed to hear it.

“What’sss the matter, tooka got your tongue?” he snickered, folding his arms as he waited for some kind of explanation as to your odd behavior.

“I-” you began, thinking quickly to cover your increasing embarrassment, “-I’ve just never been this close to a Trandoshan before. Much less the legendary hunter Bossk,” you finished, buttering him up. It may as well have been the truth, the only thing you failed to mention being the trailing thoughts fluttering around inside your brain in regard to his statuesque proportions.

This met with his approval, the mercenary belting out a short, sharp laugh. “Well, today is your lucky day then, issssn’t it,” he stated in a sarcastic tone.

You looked to the right at your partner; she had organized this little excursion. Scoria was a skilled bounty hunter in her own right, but she had convinced you that you would need help for this next job. Currently, she was talking to a man named Dengar who had introduced himself moments earlier. You caught his eye briefly; he had the nerve to wink at you.

Quickly looking away, you returned your attention to the Trandoshan who interrupted everyone all at once, his voice grating, yet somehow soothing to the ears. “We’ll head out at first light. I know how pathetic human eyesight isss in the dark.”

You had the sense of knowing he fully believed that statement.

“For now, let’ssss grab a drink,” he practically commanded, no one bothering to disagree with his proposal.

“Bossk, did I eva’ tell ya’ I love the way you think?”

“Shut up, Dengar,” the creature snapped back, causing you to suppress a laugh. He had emitted a growl that was downright predatory. You felt a little something dance down your spine. Fear? Excitement?

Following behind the others at your own pace, you thought it was a miracle this little backwater planet even had a bar, much less a room, your target lurking in the deepest, darkest depths of the forest where he had carved out a special place for himself among the native flora and fauna.

This being was said to be a Jedi sympathizer wanted by the Empire, and worth so much that even splitting the earnings four ways would have you sitting pretty for some time. Your quarry had spent the last several years funneling Jedi and Force-users to safety, the intel he possessed worth its weight in spice.

The worry was he would not be alone, and there would be many parties to contend with, more than you two could handle on your own – that’s where these so-called guns for hire came in.

You could not deny you were intrigued. In fact, maybe more than that.

Truth be told, as soon as you discovered who Scoria planned to solicit for help, you spent hours rifling through said hunters’ files. While Dengar was a notable hunter hailing from Corellia, Bossk was a powerful warrior of his ilk and had quite the track record, both working with hunters such as Aurra Sing, Embo, and Boba Fett, a man you had yet to lay your eyes on.

The sheer size of him, standing somewhere at 6’3” or taller, forced you to have to crane your neck when looking up into his eyes, the color of burning embers, black as pitch pupils swimming in a sea of red.

His talons were sharp as razors, as were the ones on his feet, capable of ripping a man in two should it be required of him, you suspected, yet you wondered how gentle he could be…

Your musings were interrupted when your partner asked for your order, Dengar having already rushed ahead, and Bossk having taken up residence on a nearby stool that barely supported his unique build. You stared unapologetically, having a rather impure thought, suddenly wondering what his weight might feel like on top of you instead.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” you nodded your head in the scaled sentient’s direction, the yellow clad merc turning his neck markedly to stare at you over his broad shoulder.

“HA! So you figure you can handle Trandoshan ale, do you?” Bossk snickered, banging the flat of his hand against the countertop where the awaiting bartender stood with a somewhat apprehensive look on his face. Though the lizard only had three “fingers,” he held up two, demanding his order to be fulfilled.

“Two. Trandoshan alesss,” he instructed with a snarl, seemingly not able to control his natural mode of being despite his intellect. By all definitions of the word, he was a monster. A monster that could walk and talk, among other things. Things you found yourself to be interested in; unsavory things; salacious things.

“What about me, Bossk?” Dengar asked, crestfallen.

The reptilian laughed full-fledged in his face before bothering to answer. “You’re on your own.”

“Well, excuuuse me for breathin’,” he snidely replied, Dengar deciding to rejoin Scoria who had found herself an opening toward the other end of the bar. Perhaps he wanted to continue their conversation, you surmised, curious as to the manner of their talk; Dengar made sure to call out to his partner before walking out of earshot.

“Remind me ta neva’ pick up your tab again.”

“Whatever, idiot,” Bossk shot back, though he had kept that booming voice of his lowered on purpose, making you wonder about the true dynamics of their relationship – it seemed complicated.

“Is this seat taken?” you thought to ask, another cutting breath being fired off from out of the hunter’s snout.

“What does it look like?” he quipped, not bothering to say yes or no. You thought that might be the closest thing to an invitation that you would get. You gingerly took your place beside him just as the barkeep returned with your ale.

The creature passed one toward you, then took up his own mug. He raised it in a toast, then bellowed out, “bottoms up.”

You held your tongue as you desired to turn his idiom into an innuendo. Instead, you collected your drink, hoping you had not gotten yourself in over your head.

After taking the first sip it was clear that you had.

You coughed, so potent was its taste. Although it appeared normal enough, the hops must have been so aged that you assumed it had been around since the dawn of the galaxy. In fact, it was so strong, you wondered why it was not being used to power starships.

The Trandoshan laughed heartily, pointing one long claw very close to your face to accentuate his words. “Figures!” he taunted. “Never known an ape who could stomach the stuff, much less a hairless one,” he japed as an insult to your kind.

Once marginally recovered, you gave him a look, determined to not give up and for Bossk to label you a sissy. He was little known for withholding opinions, whether favorable or not, or so you had heard.

“It’s just strong, is all,” you rationalized. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

“Strong, like me,” he confirmed with a terse cackle, taking a chug of his own ale before making you an offer. “If you don’t drink it, I will.”

Defiantly, you took another swig, this time managing to not pull a face. Not sure of its alcohol content, you were already starting to feel a buzz. Smirking, you realized your inhibitions were beginning to lower, but you had already been in an impish mood.

“So I noticed,” you said, wondering if he would perceive your words the way you meant them.

His reply was casual and dismissive. “Maybe your eyesss are sharper than I thought.” He was not one to miss an opportunity to flatter himself, as if your complimenting him was not enough.

“So very humble, Bossk,” you stated sarcastically and with some familiarity, as if you had known this sentient for more than ten minutes. The hunter made a sound that was reminiscent of an angry snake; you regarded him out of the corner of your eye.

‘What do you know?” he asked with a somewhat irritated quality to his voice.

“Nothing,” you admitted, taking a chance to amend this by asking him a little something about himself. You were curious, after all, and at the moment feeling gutsy. “So, tell me then: how did you become such a skilled hunter?”

Without missing a beat, the Trandoshan easily proffered an answer. “The Sssscorekeeper, she smiles down upon me.”

Not surprisingly, you knew little about Trandoshans or their home planet, Trandosha, much less about their customs and culture. You felt a bit ignorant, hoping that he would not be offended at your cluelessness about his people. “The Scorekeep? May I ask who she is?”

“The Great Goddesssss….” Bossk began, talons wrapping firmly around his glass. “She exisssts beyond time and ssspace. She watches the hunt-” he said with gusto, “-and rewards us for our killsss.”

“And she favors you,” you added.

“Yesssss, for I am the best!” he concluded, self-assured.

“I see,” you said offhand.

You thought for a moment about what you had learned, not having much in the way to add. He took this opportunity to take a drink of his ale as you came up with another question, this one causing the corner of your mouth to twitch as you moved your stool a little closer to his. “And what do you think of human Gods? We don’t put much faith into them ourselves.”

Bossk turned his head your way and huffed but did not say anything so as to impede your progress. You wondered if he had any idea you were experiencing an attraction to him, or if he was purposely ignoring it.

“Weak!” he nearly shouted, a few patrons rotating in their chairs to stare. Your eyes darted around quickly, noting that to bring attention to yourselves might alert the wrong kinds of people of your presence on this rocky world. This did not seem to concern the Trandoshan whatsoever. It was possible he enjoyed the attention, or assumed he could handle himself no matter the situation, therefore he did not think about those kinds of things. Whatever the case, he continued:

“Your Gods deal in suffering. Your reward is pain,” he growled. “Sssstupid.”

You could not argue with that and thought he had a valid point. It did feel that way sometimes, as if whoever was in charge of the universe enjoyed chaos and mayhem, strife and discord, or made a game of it and humans their pawns.

Smiling warmly, you scootched a little closer, allowing your elbow to brush against his. “And what do you think of human girls?” you asked, your voice matching your mood, so very tempted to finger the lightweight yellow material that clothed the reptile.

Bossk made a jerking motion and looked squarely at you, a sound being produced by his vocal chords that signified he was taken aback by your query. Blood-red eyes traveled your form; he took a moment before he finally responded, and it was not what you had hoped for.

“Piss off, sissssster… I’m trying to relax.”

You openly pouted, immediately quieting yourself as you took another drink of your Trandoshan ale. Having temporarily forgotten about its pungency, you almost choked, swallowing it down before having another coughing fit.

Bossk shook his head, chuckling darkly at you, perhaps finding you nearly dying to be amusing. “You don’t have to finish that, you know.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m weak,” you confessed. “I wanted to impress you.”

“HA!” the bounty hunter enunciated dryly. “Impress me with your hunting skillssss,” he asserted. It seemed he was making a habit of laughing at your expense.

That did not deter you. Testing the waters, you trailed a finger down the outside of his prodigious thigh, not really knowing what had come over you except you were inexplicably drawn to this… man.

And perhaps it was because he was not a man, or at least not a man the likes of which you had ever seen, that you were captivated by him, though you had been witness to many things this side of the galaxy that were strange and unusual, not so different from a Trandoshan, you thought, and yet --

“--Maybe I could impress you some other way?” you volunteered coyly, that third swig of ale having emboldened you more so than before.

Bossk angled his head like a curious animal, first in one direction and then the other. He glanced down at your finger tracing his leg and blinked -- you presumed he thought you ridiculous, waiting for him to tear you down once more.

“Are you flirting with me?!” he asked quizzically, and rather loudly at that. If you could have read his expression, you wondered if he might be confronting some sort of disbelief. However, his face was all teeth and tongue, his mouth stretching back nearly to where his ears should have been were he a member of your species. It was impossible to tell his true mood, at least as far as you were aware.

You returned a rather nervous, yet daring, “I don’t know, am I?”

He virtually howled, blood rushing toward your cheeks as he slapped his knee with an open palm. “You couldn’t handle me princessss,” he chided once he had calmed down enough to speak.

Feeling rebellious, your sullen temperament was not helping matters, as you were now speaking before you thought things through.

“Wanna bet?” you scowled.

“How much?” Bossk leaned forward across the bar top, not wasting a moment’s time, his face so close to yours you could feel his hot breath on your skin.

“My half of the bounty tomorrow,” you said without hesitation. You mentally slapped yourself.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ssssweetheart. You’ll be lucky If you can walk.”

---

Bossk had a ship, the Hound’s Tooth. His modified YV-666 light freighter was more than well-equipped for his dirty deeds, and then some. Parked right outside the seedy establishment you had occupied, the lizard had taken to finishing your drink and the rest of his.

Taking you by the wrist like some ancient, uncivilized being, he had guided you outside, locking his talons around you with a surprisingly careful grip. He had chuckled deviously to himself, as if he had just won a prize, and perhaps he thought he had; you were not sure how often the hunter partook of sins of the flesh, nor did you care to ask. Instead, you planned to win that bet, however much of an excuse it was to get him in the sack.

The moment you stepped inside, the door slid closed, and Bossk was on you like a predator with caught prey, your body tossed like a ragdoll into the hull of his ship. You gasped, yet you would be lying if you said you didn’t prefer things a little rough, already anticipating what would happen next.

“Let’s ssseeee if you’re all talk…” he hissed into your ear, the tip of his forked tongue flitting against your earlobe. You were stock-still, as if caught in his hunter’s snare. You swallowed down your spit, one arm rising in an attempt to touch him.

“Sssssskkkk…” At once intimidated, Bossk slapped your hand away, his own returning to curl a talon against the crook of your cheek. It grazed itself along your jawline before coming to rest at your chin. He pinched you delicately as a show of good faith; he did not plan to hurt you if he could help it. Then, that same claw slid down, down the line of your sternum and came to a halt at the edge of your lowcut top.

“Some cleavage,” he said derisively, its pointed tip pushing lightly against the fabric that barred your breasts; you were wearing a one piece leotard for range of movement, having left your weapons on Scoria’s ship. Bossk sliced it open with a single swipe, leaving fleshy mounds exposed for his naked eye.

He carefully watched the way they bounced and fought against gravity. Though large, he thought them perky, the apex of his longest finger lightly fondling your quickly hardening nipple. You stood transfixed, panting against the wall and somewhat shocked that he would cut to the chase so fast by nearly wholly undressing you in the airlock of his ship.

“Tooka must have your tongue again,” he teased, inching so close it made you wonder how it would be to kiss him.

“Good thing it doessssn’t have mine,” he finished, and it appeared he was going to address that very thing. The thin expanse of his long tongue delved soundlessly into your half-opened mouth, bypassing your dull, human teeth, Bossk engaging you in such a way that it took your breath away.

You felt a tickle at the back of your throat, the monstrosity having buried himself to the hilt that was his fang-filled maw. You thought he must be able to taste what you had for breakfast at this rate, your hands, tiny in comparison to his, aiming to push against the wide expanse of his chest.

The hunter rasped, that elongated, warm muscle traveling backward as he pulled his head a bit aways, the vertex of your tongue finally able to find his. You toyed with its unique feel, Bossk having no shame as he palmed the round of your breast, squeezing gently at first before he released you from his strangely deep and passionate kiss.

“I’m just getting ssstarted,” he assured you, his large frame dropping down before you to where his head was level with your chest. The sound of his knees hitting the duralloy beneath echoed throughout the entirety of the small chamber as it startled you to stand up straight.

Both of his massive hands took hold of either side of the remains of your outfit, shredding it off your arms and legs, then tossing it idly to the floor at your feet so that you were left with nothing but your boots. You shivered at the sudden breeze against your now bare flesh, Bossk snickering as he admired your human shell.

“Cold? You won’t be for long with me warming you up,” he forewarned.

You had little time to respond. In fact, you didn’t, so fixated on the Trandoshan’s scaled face before you that you couldn’t think of a thing to say. You watched in awe as the tongue that kissed you found the divot between your tits, the lizard licking a path from the base of your breasts to the underside of your vulnerable throat.

You shuddered in delight, closing your eyes instinctively, though your small reprieve didn’t last long as a flicker of something warm and wet darted across both your nipples at the same time. He had pushed your tits together, aligning them, little bolts of pleasure causing a moan to escape you.

The pressure of them being smooshed between inhuman hands, and the soft, nuanced use of his tongue induced a throb between your legs. Bossk suddenly growled, pulling away, having smelled a change in your pheromones that exacerbated his primal instincts. You nearly jumped when one of his hands lifted to disappear below, the back of a claw, shiny and smooth, skimming down the length of your torso to right between your folds.

The curved, rounded arch brushed softly against your clit, parting your lower set of lips as he hissed a bestial sound. You trembled involuntarily, feeling almost ashamed of how wet that had made you, what you thought was a dastardly smile unfurling across the extent of the large reptilian’s face.

“Let’s have a tassssste,” he remarked, dropping your other breast for his now free hand to join in with his other. You felt the sensation of something sharp splaying your labia apart as his tongue, featherlight, dragged itself from the recess of your vagina, all the way to the top of your sensitive cluster of nerves.

You twitched against your will, pinned to your spot as your chest contracted with a breathy exhale. The bastard chuckled at your reaction, your spasming only further encouraging him.

“Barely touched you, doll face. Wait for it…” he lisped suggestively. Your legs nearly gave out beneath you once he really started in.

Fast flicks were administered to your already pulsating clit, your entire body quivering as your breathing picked up speed. The forks of his tongue stimulated you in ways you had not thought possible, the stretch of your lips between clawed digits exposing every nerve fiber to his attack.

Your bosom rose and fell as your breathing picked up, unable to control the pathetic whines and quavering mewls that fell loose on his ears. He only increased in fervor, and before you knew what had happened, you had crumbled into a heap amidst an intense orgasm.

Legs finally betraying you, you slid down the hull. Bossk pulled his muzzle away from you, once more laughing to your dismay. You cursed him under your breath, the Trandoshan at once standing up from off his knees even as you sat in a disarray on the floor. You could feel both the dampness of his saliva and your own secretions dripping down your inner thighs.

“Hmm, what was that? Don’t think I heard you, princess,” he informed you in a gravelly tone. You had no time to recover before he bent down to scoop you up, as if you were nothing more than his plaything and weighed about as much as a child’s toy.

“Come here,” he directed forcefully, though you may as well not have any say in the matter, Bossk holding onto you in his big, strong arms only to lift you up and set you down atop his shoulders -- frontwards.

You gasped, not knowing how you had even made it up there so quickly, finding your crotch to be centered with the lizard’s snout and your knees resting against his shoulders while your legs hung limply along his back. But then, you felt something else. There was a gentle writhing happening deep inside you, realizing he had sunk his bifurcated tongue straight into your core.

You groaned in ecstasy, unable to stop yourself even if you had wished to, that snake like organ massaging your walls as his beak rubbed against your still thrumming bud.

Your thighs tightened around either side of his mammoth skull, breasts pressed firmly against his face as your arms enshrouded the back of his head and drew him in. You subtly shifted your hips to and fro, finding yourself to be fucking his mouth with your cunt as he carried you aloft and down the hall.

He withdrew for just a moment with a slurp, causing you to whimper lewdly. “Watch your head,” he cautioned.

You looked backward and realized you would need to duck, clearing the entryway to the rest of the alien creature’s ship; the airlock shut behind you as you both vacated the area, and for a moment you dared to look around. However, once you had accomplished not beheading yourself, the Trandoshan made a guttural sound, delving back inside your pussy as he snarled predaceously, working his way deeper into the plush confines of your moist heat.

“Fuck,” you panted, hips once more gyrating slowly across his squirming tongue. He was playing with his food, you decided, somehow the man having found your g-spot as he worked it with unmatched patience. Your weight lifted up and off him as you raised your pelvis to meet his mouth; he was incessantly tickling you toward another release, and you could not help but want to get nearer to its source.

“Oh, fuck, Bosssssk,” you hissed out his name as if you were a Trandoshan yourself, a blast of hot breath streaming forth from his nostrils to scorch your skin as he laughed, even while still steeped inside you. You thighs clenched harder until finally you came, your body at once going limp so that the hunter would have to fully support you as he slid you off his shoulders and into his awaiting arms.

“That’ssss my name,” he stated to your annoyance, your eyes darting up as your chest heaved. Your expression alone informed him you were displeased at his attempts to be a smartass, hoping he did not force you to endure the other half of that childish phrase.

The man chuckled again instead. You were abruptly discarded with a thud, finding yourself tossed haphazardly onto what you thought was an oversized bed. You looked up at him, unable to hide your mild indignance. That’s when you saw it -- the size of his erection, jutting out obscenely beneath its cloth restraints.

“Shit,” you muttered,eyes widening. It was apparently time to put your money where your mouth is, and possibly quite literally. Still, you sat agape, having not even laid your eyes on anything but its substantial outline, and already you were thinking of chickening out. But that did not mean you weren’t at least somewhat curious.

“Shit is right, sssweetheart,” he jeered. “You’re in for it now.”

The man had little in the way of modesty, unhooking the white flack vest from around his chest to let it hit the floor. Then, trusting you enough – not that you were any match for him, and naked at that – he disarmed himself and allowed the remainder of his gear to be discarded in much the same manner, leaving him wearing nothing but his pressurized suit.

Finally, two talons started at the top of a hidden zipper to be cleanly whisked to just below his belly, Bossk shucking off the sleeves to leave his torso bare. Your eyes traversed his rough hide, though it was not unattractive, inquisitive to his very nature as his flesh was so different from yours, or any other species you had thus encountered for that matter.

Bossk’s firm pectorals lacked nipples, perhaps why he had favored yours with special attention earlier, though he had washboard abs that cascaded in ripples, exposing the tantalizing vision that was his rectus abdominis muscles. His scales were multiple shades of green, seamlessly overlapping one another, yet some jutted out more than others and came to tiny points like the ones lined along the arch of his skull. Overall, the Trandoshan’s calvarium was covered in these small, needle-like spikes, part of you wondering what their purpose was besides being a kind of organic armor; you would not bother to quiz him on the subject.

Together, you were skin and scales, now finding yourself to be daydreaming about what his body would feel like pressed up against yours, so frail in comparison; you deduced it would not be long before you found out, yet the grandiose size of his genitalia gave you pause. You were both eager and uneasy about seeing it outright.

He was not one to leave you hanging, his alien phallus springing forth from the gap in his suit where the zipper had parted; it was beyond sizeable, making your mouth water while at the same time putting the fear of God into you.

You were not sure what you were supposed to do with it.

“That’s not going to fit,” you blurted out, your eyes never once leaving the hardened, ridged cock of the creature before you. Its girth was nearly half as thick as your own forearm, an array of ribs and crests protruding conically along its outer edge on either side. The tip of his dick was shaped like the head of an arrow, though more rounded and robust, its entire length tinged an emerald hue that was brighter than his scales; unbeknownst to you, Trandoshan blood was green.

“It will if you want it to,” he sizzed sharply, something akin to a shit-eating grin having overtaken his face. “And you best make room for one more,” he advised, pushing down the remainder of his jumpsuit to reveal what he’d been hiding --there were two?!

You audibly gasped, Bossk placing his foot upon the bed beside you. One elbow came to a rest on his knee after he stepped out of the leg holes of his ensemble. He leaned forward toward you against his arm for balance, leaving nothing to the imagination; you openly gawked at his chiseled form. He waved a hand patronizingly in your direction, deciding to remind you of the alternative.

“Or-” he offered, “- you can give up now and expect to pay me all your hard earned creditssss.”

This simple admonishment was all it took to steel you for what was to come, not about to lose out on a job that could afford you a lengthy stretch of vacation should you be able to pull your own weight tomorrow. Either way, you would give it your best shot, deciding it was all or nothing; you swallowed back your trepidation and took one cock in each hand.

The beast before you made an unusual sound, something between pleasure and surprise. You weren’t even sure if he would like what you were about to try, but you also assumed Bossk was not one to hold back from announcing his displeasure should the need arise.

“Getting braver, are we?” he derided you, pulling his hips back from the hands that clasped his cocks to push them forward again, forcing you to squeeze them tightly in your fist in order to hang on – it seems this was the goal.

Taking the hint, you began to work your dominant arm, fingers traversing and exploring the many truncations of his anatomy. The other you guided toward your mouth, Bossk’s slit pupils dilating in anticipation. His tongue pulled away from wiry lips as his fangs clacked together, a soft, crisp hiss resounding in your ears. You relaxed your jaws, hoping by all of Alderaan's ghosts that you would still be able to breathe once it maneuvered down your throat -- and what an undertaking it would be.

“Good girrrrl,” he growled, causing you to hasten your efforts as you adjusted incrementally to the large invader sliding down your gullet, carefully beginning to glide your tongue and lips around its ribbed circumference. The hunter gathered tufts of your hair in his large claws, turning your head up toward his with a gentle show of force, his stare unwavering as he gazed into your eyes; this in and of itself shamelessly basted your loins, ensuring a smooth entry in the future, and you were becoming all the more eager for it as time ticked by.

“Not so bad, issss it?” he asked, his free hand moving below your chin as he held you steady with the backside of another of his unsettling talons. Although, you were now getting used to them, there being something decidedly sexy in the way a tool - designed to rend meat and flesh into sunders - could be so tender and conscientious as it touched and caressed your skin.

“Mnn mmn,” you voiced in agreement, sucking in air through your nose as you exhaled slowly, allowing yourself to further unwind. You felt your gag reflex trying to activate itself, yet you gradually managed to coax your throat muscles to loosen and go slack, finally intaking his member as far as your body would allow.

Bossk purred another pleasing sound, evocative of the Igua-Jaws that lived on Dagobah, his hips beginning to rock back and forth inside your mouth as the head of his cock plunged as far as your oropharynx. The hand holding his other phallus pumped him steadily, though it was hard to keep pace as the Trandoshan had found his own.

“Ssstay just like that, princesss,” he encouraged, fucking your mouth as if it was your vagina, not holding back even the slightest degree as you moaned and groaned under the uninterrupted onslaught of his cock. You did your best to stay afloat, at some point feeling used and liking it, as if you were nothing more than a squashy sheath to stick his dick in. Somehow, it gave you a sense of power -- he wanted you for reasons; there would be no more pretending it was all for fun and games.

You released your grip on his second cock, unable to accommodate it as you were only human and only had one mouth. You found it somewhat ineffective to keep jerking him, instead placing both hands on either side of the reptile’s narrow waist. You used this position to stabilize yourself, crawling up onto your knees for a better vantage. You could feel every thrust hit the back of your throat, your nails, clean and trim, digging into the hardened exterior of the man who had by this point closed his eyes in bliss.

“Sooo ssssoft and waaaarm,” he complimented, slowing his speed to instead fuck your mouth more deeply. He pitched his pelvis forward and backward, the head of his member edging close to your lips before he drove himself inward again. The meat of his thick thighs tensed, and you could feel his cock flex, indicating to you that he was close.

“Ssssssskkkkkkkkkaahhhh……” The Trandoshan verbalized his rapture, offloading a torrent of sperm that hit the back of your soft palate and kept on coming. In order to breathe, you focused on swallowing, guzzling down Bossk’s seed to the point there was no more room in your mouth to house it.

You murmured a sound of protest as a white seepage leaked at the corners of your lips, dribbling down your chin for droplets to find their way onto your naked breasts. Still, his semen kept pouring itself into you, as if he were filling a swimming pool, the feeling of your belly becoming full setting off alarm bells in your head; it was as if you had chugged a milkshake all in a few seconds’ time.

Pushing against his hips, the creature relented. You sucked in a desperate breath as soon as his cock exited your mouth. You gasped, intaking another round of fresh oxygen, your hand lowering to hold your now aching gut.

Bossk ran the backside of his foreclaw against your belly, prompting you to remove your hand. Then, he poked it, chuckling morosely as he pushed you backward onto the bed.

“We’re not finished here,” he stated, taking up his unspent cock to wave it at you, though he was careful how he handled it, knowing from experience just how sharp his own claws could be.

You stared at him with wide, timid eyes as you wiped excess cum off your face with the back of your hand; you had never been with a species that had a hemipenis, not sure you could handle one round, much less two. You held your breath as he mounted you, aligning his reserve phallus up against your twat as he prepared for entry; he drew it across your already soaked slit, saturating himself from tip to base.

Still holding your sore stomach, Bossk sibilated filthily into your ear, his forked tongue causing a wellspring of goosebumps to creep across your arms and legs. “Hope you’re ready for the main event,” he sardonically emphasized, causing a shudder to rock you to the marrow of your bones.

Having only a moment to prepare, the reptile entered you, pitching forward so that you were quite suddenly stuffed to the brim. You yelled out, though it felt so good to be stretched so taut, the plush, sensitive tissue of your sex able to feel every inch and then some, including the miniscule protrusions that lined his cock from head to hilt.

Slowly, deliberately, he drew out of you, once more thrusting inside to get you accustomed to the sensation of being split open time and time again. You groaned somewhere between pain and ecstasy, your fingers coming to rest on what was now a second bulge, this one the stout imprint of his lizard’s dick.

“Sssseeee? Told you it’d fit.” He grinned like the horned devil he was, placing his gargantuan hand atop your own. He moved succinctly, not too fast and not too slow, pressing down on your pubic bone with his open palm. This intensified the pleasure of having him sequestered between your thighs, finding yourself wanting to splay your legs wider to reveal more of yourself to him, whether that made you vulnerable or not.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” he praised, bending forward to lap at the edge of your mouth before you supplied him entry, his talented tongue once more diving to the back of your throat as you bashfully twisted and wriggled among the sheets; you were pining for more and the hunter could sense it, rebuking you lightly for being so suddenly desperate, as if he hadn’t known this would happen all along.

“I’ve got your comm frequency, sisssster,” he said between snakes of a split muscle, licking the underside of your teeth before he parted ways with your face so that he could put all his attention into the task at hand. Bossk then began to make use of his powerful legs, each pump of his alien cock into you causing an indecent moan to pelt the air, the tone of your mewling betraying just how good it felt as you urgently tried to curtail your needy cries.

With his semen sloshing in your stomach, you did not seem to mind, having already forgotten his previous transgressions as you crooned to the ceiling of his ship.

“Fuck me, Bossk, fuck me; keep going, just like that,” you begged quietly, reveling in the peculiar experience that was your cunt being tenderized by the knobbed surface of his prick.

“What do you think I’m doing?!” he sassed back, the Trandoshan’s hips driving into you harder with every cast. He managed to penetrate you down to the convergence of your cervix; you had insisted, a shock of what felt like electricity climbing its way up your nerve endings to manifest itself in a yelp.

“Happy now?”

“Mmhmm,” you confessed, your hand cupping the shape of his abnormally large erection as it massaged your innards to your heart’s content. The continual pressure of his dick against the roof of your anterior walls finally triggered your body’s main erogenous zone, Bossk having hit it repeatedly until you exalted his name to the stars and heavens beyond.

“Heh, heh, heh…” he chortled dryly, obviously pleased with himself. He posed a question to you, even as he was working toward his own high.

“Oh, yeah? You liked that, huh?��

The way he phrased it was almost comical. In fact, you may have laughed had he not just given you one of the best orgasms of your life. Instead, you looked up at him with sultry eyes, pushing your breasts together for his viewing pleasure. He took this as an invitation, kneading and groping your right tit with one hand as his opposite held him up so as to not crush you with his weight.

“Mmm, always did love a nice pair of tittttsss,” he acknowledged, trailing off as you tightened your Kegel muscles and wrapped your legs around his lower back.

“Y-You’re gonna make me cum like that,” he conceded, that not stopping you in the least. You crossed your ankles, using the muscles in your legs to seesaw him back and forth inside your slippery crevasse. The Trandoshan was not amused, apparently not wanting to lose his spare load so quickly to the likes of you – a hairless ape.

“You never told me what you thought of human girls,” you whispered, intentionally allowing him to feel your torrid breath against his glossy scales.

“Grrrrmnnn….” he groused, not allowing you to get the best of him. “I love human girrrrlllls, and human girls love me,” he affirmed as if it was an indisputable fact.

This time you did laugh, the lizard canting his head as he glowered over you. You would make sure to reassure him, knowing he ego might suffer. All in all, you had come to the conclusion that Bossk was softer than he let on, despite his tough, leathery hide. “Mn, yes, we do…” You blinked languidly, smiling up at him.

Not knowing what you were in for, that was all it took; Bossk bust his second nut into your tight, mammalian hole. You squealed in surprise as warmth flooded your insides, your body not made to absorb and hold onto his sperm.

The Trandoshan gathered your legs, throwing them over his neck and shoulders as he continued to crank out more and more cum, the stuff spilling down your thighs and ass crack as your uterus expanded near to bursting. You watched in horror and mild fascination as your belly once more extended, as if you were being inflated like a helium balloon.

Once Bossk had drained himself, you were left looking four months pregnant, groaning as he slipped his cock out but held your legs firmly in place. He took hold of one ankle in each hand, then brought them together, looking down to admire his handiwork while not allowing you to spill one drop.

You drooled, sucking your own spit back into your mouth as you gazed up at your lover dumbly. He pat you on your tummy, once more tilting his head to the side. “Good thing humans and Trandoshanssss can’t breeeeeeed,” he snidely remarked.

Then, out of seemingly nowhere, Bossk produced a towel, having reached beyond you to some unknown part of his large bed with your ankles still gathered in his other hand. You hated to think how long that towel had been there, or if it was even clean, at least thankful there was anything at all with which to freshen yourself up.

“Thisss should do the triccck,” he said as he laid the worn piece of fabric out beneath you. Bit by bit, he lowered your legs, graciously permitting his spunk to travel down and out of you, finally taking some of the pressure off your guts.

You sighed in relief, wave after wave of semen trickling out of your sore opening, coating Bossk’s so-called towel in a deluge of his seed. When all was said and done, you weren’t sure how much of his cum you had interred within yourself, and how much had wound up on the bed, teetering somewhere between disappointed and thankful that it was over; you had won.

“Refresher’s down the hall and to your left,” he offered, granting you permission to use the sonic should you require it –- and you most certainly did.

--- Upon reentry to the lizard’s nest, Bossk was curled up in a position he had favored in the egg - knees to chest - having discarded his soiled linens to replace them with new ones.

Knowing that the hunt was to begin tomorrow, you did not expect Bossk to invite you to stay, yet he lifted the sheets as a way to motivate you to join him beneath the covers.

“Ssssleeping here is as good a place as any,” he entreated.

You suspected there was more to it than that, but decided not to deny him a snuggle after he had fucked you so good and proper. You slinked in next to him, your voluptuous rump sidling up against the convexity of his lap. Bossk intoned a little noise of satisfaction then, burly arms encircling your diminutive frame as you settled down to rest.

Who knew Bossk'wassak'Cradossk was a cuddler?

You could only hope that come daybreak you would still be able to walk, as Bossk had predicted otherwise. For Scoria to find you with legs bowed and crotch aching from being pummeled with an oversized cock that was not meant for you was not how you hoped to start the day. Besides, you no longer had clothes to wear; you assumed Bossk might at least provide you with a shirt, or shorts, figuring he did not expect you to go out naked to meet up with your crew.

Within minutes, Bossk’s light snoring and the sssskkk of his tongue in and out of dreams aided you in drifting off to sleep, the monster of a man not above using you like he would a stuffy, cradling you the whole night through.

Not surprisingly, you would later promise him to keep this to yourself. Afterall, he had a reputation to upkeep.

---

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