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$$$ ALIEN FUCKERS WANTED $$$

The ad looked like a joke.

If it had been on a random site or popped up on social media, no one would have responded to it.

No one Phantom wanted, anyway.

The proprietor of “Phantom’s” had named themself and their sex club on MiNo space station because of a human woman. They understood how tantalizing of a species we are.

And they are more than happy to provide an introduction between us and the rest of the universe.

After all, it’s a lucrative business. I realized that the moment I saw the club.

The first time I’d responded to Phantom’s ad, I’d done so in a massive group. Our book club had joked and toyed with the idea and eventually taken a poll and then we’d taken a field trip.

We’d thought “safety in numbers” but we hadn’t needed them. And it’s a good thing, too.

What were we going to do when the office building we’d gone to turned into a spaceship that rocketed us halfway across the known universe?

Four women had backed out before that. They stayed on Earth, safe and unsatisfied. Two more had backed out after we’d arrived at the club. Meeting the electro-static alien and looking out at the club floor with all of the aliens on offer had been a little too much for them.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame them.

But it had been the knowledge they could back out that had eased my mind.

Even though six of our initial thirteen chose to abstain, the rest of us…

We’d had a lot of fun and then gone home, feeling a little like we’d woken up from a dream.

I never went to the book club again, so I don’t know if any of the others have come back, but I… I can’t stop.

Dating human men had felt more dangerous and less satisfying than ever before.

“You going to be okay, Peach?” Feather pats me on the back and then slides her hand over to squeeze my shoulder.

Peach isn’t my real name, obviously. But I’ve gotten used to it… almost like it is. Sometimes I’d rather be Peach than Maggie.

But Feather is her real name. She’s our ‘house mom’ this time around. The woman designated to make sure we’re all okay and have everything we need.

I’ve seen her several times, but I’ve never seen her go into the booth. I’m not sure she partakes, but she wears the same baby blue booty shorts and severely cropped raglan top with a ufo on it.

I’ve always wanted to take the top home with me afterward… but it’s never ended up in a condition that would let me sneak it back as a souvenir. Taking a clean one from the locker room feels like stealing.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” I assure her. My nerves are a jumbled mess.

It’s so silly.

I know how this works, but my skin prickles like it’s the first time.

Maybe it’s because I pulled the first slot this time around. Maybe it’s because I know what waits for me inside the booth—theoretically.

The wall lights up with a cartoon peach and fireworks, and Feather squeezes my shoulder again.

The booth bot is ready for me.

“Show them how it’s done, love.” She kisses my forehead and I stand, reminding myself that if I show my nerves, it’s only going to make the new girls more nervous.

They deserve to have the best time ever.

So, I smile at her and muster all my bravado. “Time to get fucked.”

Time to see what delights are on offer.