Earth Husbands, the end. (Patreon)

As soon as the door to their private quarters closed, Max let out his breath. God, this had been the longest day ever, or at least the longest day in the last couple of months. However, now they were alone and they had the fancy new translator installed into the main computer. Dee knew how to gift right. He turned and looked at Rick. “Whatever will we do now?” Max asked in a teasing voice as he pulled his shirt off. He even threw in an eyebrow wiggle.

Rick rotated a few degrees. “We could do—” Rick’s suggestion ended in whale song. Having an improved translator didn’t mean perfect communication, and Rick didn’t get eyebrow semaphore.

“That didn’t translate. Can you describe what you mean?”

Rick started the explanation with whale song and then continued, “—is touching where partners pull on each other’s tentacles and attempt to cause pleasure until sexual orifices open.”

That sounded vaguely unhygienic. “Open? Query. Clarify open.”

“Similar to when you ejaculate and the hole the sperm and lubrication comes out of opens,” Rick explained in the universe’s least sexy description of sex. However, if there was an activity that would give Rick enough pleasure to make a sexual orifice open, Max was in favor of it. He unbuttoned his pants rather than risk another Rick-disaster with clothing. There was a small possibility that Rick’s people didn’t wear clothes because they couldn’t keep up with the mending.

“I’m down for it. And maybe after I do this, we can figure out a name for it. So, how do we start?”

That got a full quarter turn out of Rick. “You start pulling tentacles by pulling tentacles.” Max would have expected that to come with a “duh” tone, but the new translator made Rick sound cautious… timid.

Max sat on the edge of their bed and held a hand out. Rick slid closer, his center tentacle undulating. “Is there a particular tentacle I should pull or a way that I can do it to make you feel more pleasure?”

“All pulling is pleasurable with you,” Rick said. He probably meant that as a factual reassurance, but that had to be the sweetest thing Max had ever heard. The casual way that he said it was the cherry on the sundae. 

“Spending any time together is pleasurable with you,” Max said. He caught a red-tipped tentacle and started to gently pull. When he didn’t get a reaction, he pulled a little harder. Rick wasn’t fragile. Hell, he was stronger than Max, but Max still hesitated. “Could I hurt you doing this?”

“Unlikely.” Rick paused, and his tentacles got a little curlier. “Query. Could I hurt you by pulling on your tentacles?” 

Max doubted that Rick would ever get rough enough to do harm, but he also didn’t want to encourage any carelessness. “If you pull too hard, you could damage my joints.”

Rick trumpeted and yanked most of his tentacles away. Max held onto the one he had been trying to pull. “That is why unboned tentacles are more practical that boned ones. Had I known I could create damage, I would have worried about ways I have pulled your tentacles in a past.” The translator let all the concern and horror come shining through. It was sweet. However, the concern was overkill.

“I enjoy the way you pull my tentacle.”

Rick noticed that he had switched to a singular noun. “Query. You reference your one logical tentacle.”

Max laughed. Rick had commented on the lack of bones in Max’s dick more than once. “Yes, I am. You are very good at pulling that tentacle, and you have always been careful to avoid damage. If you have never broken my dick, you’re not going to damage my arm.”

Rick’s tentacles didn’t relax. “If we are pulling tentacles and not seeking genetic release, I anticipate pulling more. Query. Would more pulling damage your logical tentacle?”

“Well, maybe take it easy pulling my cock,” Max admitted. As strong as Rick was, if he applied force to Max’s cock, that was not going to end well. “It is a fairly fragile tentacle. My arms and legs are tougher, even with the joints. So, back to my original question, how hard can I pull on your tentacles before damaging them? I am uncomfortable doing something which could cause harm.” Max ran his fingers along the underside of the tentacle he was holding captive. The finger tentacles along the underside grabbed at fingers.

“I will tell you if the unlikely chance the pulling is too much. You will not hurt me.” Rick curled a red tentacle tip around Max's wrist. Max started pulling, gently at first. When he didn't get a reaction, he started pulling harder, and harder. Rick gave a little shiver.

“Good?”

“Exceptionally. It is more good because it is you that pulls.” Rick brought a few more tentacles around to curl around Max’s arms.

“You are sweet talker.”

Rick blew raspberries. “I believe that translated incorrectly. My talent does not include talent with speech.”

“Really?” Max put a little more muscle into pulling, and Rick shivered so hard that his tentacles came loose, falling off Max’s arms. “I would say you are very talented with speech.” Max waited until Rick seemed to recover and brought a few of his tentacles back up and then he pulled like he was in boot came and his drill sergeant was watching. Rick gave a grunt and a little shimmy.

“Too much?” Max let go of the tentacle.

“No. You pull wonderfully. I didn’t expect such goodness with pulling,” Rick said.

“I need you to talk to me and tell me you’re okay,” Max said. 

Rick blew a raspberry. “I have no ability to think logical thoughts when you pull my tentacles.”

“Then I am definitely going to pull your tentacles more often. However, I need some reassurance that what I’m doing is good, and you don’t need to be logical.”

“You should demonstrate.” Rick pounced on Max, curling tentacles around his arms and pushing Max back onto the bed. Before Max could formulate a plan to counter-attack, Rick pulled on Max’s arm. For a half second, Max was eye to enormous eye with Rick, and then Rick braced other tentacles on Max’s torso and pushed.

“Oh yeah,” Max said as his shoulder popped and muscles stretched. “Fuck yeah. More.”

Rick pushed until Max was turned partially on his side, a tentacle braced against his ass. Max wiggled, and Rick pulled on his leg and arm at the same time. Max arched his back and groaned.

“Is that positive or negative feedback?” Rick asked as he eased the pressure.

“Positive. I think you popped my back, and that feels glorious.” Max used Rick’s temporary distraction to counter-attack, pulling the tentacle that was wrapped around his wrist. Max put his back into it and really strained. Rick gave another shimmy of pleasure, releasing his hold over Max. Then several of his tentacles stiffened before turning to jelly. Max had found the sweet spot. He pulled the tentacle again, and Rick gave an unfamiliar gargle-grunt. “Do you like that?”

“Fuck yeah, positive feedback. More,” Rick said, echoing Max’s earlier words. Awww. Max had taught his sweet little octopus to swear.

Max reached for a shorter tentacle. The minute he caught it, the red tip curled around his wrist and Rick shivered. “Tell me if I am close to hurting you.”

“I do not have illogical joinings of bones to make weakness.” 

Max experimented by jiggling the tentacle he was holding. “How does that feel?”

“Jerky movements are more odd than pleasurable,” Rick said. And he sounded much more coherent, which meant Max was going in the wrong direction. He wanted to drive Rick to the point that he couldn’t form rational thoughts. He started to pull the tentacle, but Rick countered with a sneak attack. One of the tentacles that was under Max’s back caught Max’s wrist and pulled it. Max lost his hold on the tentacle he’d captured.

Rick pushed Max’s hip away while pulling his arm closer. It meant Max was twisted oddly on the bed, but his back was getting the best stretch ever. “Fuck yeah,” he said with a groan. Tensions that had set into his bones leaked out every pore. “Do the other side,” he begged.

Rick crawled over Max, his weight leaving Max breathless for a second before he slid over to the other side, and then Rick repeated the push-pull-twist maneuver on the other side. Max’s spine crackled and he groaned in pleasure. Knots he’d had since college all melted away. “Hell yes.” Max grunted when Rick curled a tentacle around his thigh. With the walking tentacle firmly in the small of Max’s back, Rick pulled back on Max’s right arm and leg, stretching the spine.

Max turned his body over to Rick’s care. “Oh fuck yeah.” He sighed the words as his muscles yielded. Shivers travelled up his spine and Max’s eyes fell closed as Rick manipulated him. Time slid past as Rick rolled him around the bed, and Max was too blissed out to care. When Rick finished stretching Max’s last finger, Rick settled down on top of Max, resting against Max’s sweaty shoulder. Max had no idea why he was sweating because Rick had done most of the work. However, he was too relaxed and comfortable to care.

“Did you enjoy—” more whale song.

Max thought about it for a second. He considered massage, but there was more muscle work involved, and he had stretched in ways that didn’t match that idea. He finally said, “Sexy yoga. That was very, very sexy yoga.” Max groaned as he tried to shift his ass over an inch. His muscles protested that he was too loose and relaxed to move.

“Did you enjoy sexy yoga?”

“I loved it,” Max said softly. He had never enjoyed intimacy without his dick getting involved, and he had been missing out. “Did you enjoy it?” Max felt a niggle of worry that he had not been very good at pulling tentacles. He was more the pullee. 

“It’s grrrrreat!” Rick trumpeted in a good imitation of a cartoon tiger. He was definitely watching too much television, and coming from Max, that was saying something. Rick stroked Max’s side, his tentacles warm against Max’s skin. “Humans and Hidden ones are exceptionally compatible,” Rick said as he settled in against Max’s side. He was an island of heat as the rest of Max’s body slowly cooled.

“You and I are compatible, that’s for sure. But I feel guilty because I gave up pulling on your tentacles somewhere in the middle.”

“That always happens,” Rick said. “I don’t often win, but I like to win.”

Max pried one eye open. “Win? What did you win?”

“I won the—” whalesong. 

“You won? I didn’t know it was a competition.” 

Rick trumpeted. “You tried to win.”

“I did not.”

“Did too.”

Max smiled and curled his arm around the closest bunch of tentacles. 

Rick slid tentacles down Max’s body and between his legs, but Max was too damn relaxed to get hard. He had never thought that was possible, especially not when he was in bed with Rick. He had a real thing for his minty-green octopus. “So,” Max said. He paused to kiss the tentacle that teased his lips. “What was I trying to win?”

“You hoped to pull my muscles until I was too full of pleasure to move.”

Max chuckled. “True enough. And instead, you did that to me.”

“Point!” Rick said, his voice full of joy. “I won. I almost never win. And I did not realize humans were competitive in same way as Hidden ones were competitive.”

“You can win with me any time,” Max said. “But right now, I am too tired to talk.” He let his eyes drift closed again. He had never been so relaxed in his whole life.

“Because you are compatible with Hidden ones. I am sorry you do not have a place for putting genetic material, but I enjoyed producing inseminating fluids.” And that was a smug voice.

“You… haven’t you come in the past?” Max asked. That disturbed him.

Rick blew raspberries against Max’s shoulder. “We played at egg implantation. Egg implantation does not produce inseminating fluids. I enjoy greatly egg implantation, but I also enjoy greatly pulling tentacles, and being the one to produce inseminating fluids was unanticipated joy. I enjoy all roles of sexual reproduction with you, even when we are not reproducing.”

“Me too.” Max rolled onto his side and threw an arm around Rick’s torso. “Definitely.”

They lay as the lights automatically dimmed because of their inactivity. Max was almost asleep when Rick added. “I would also enjoy egg implantation without playing.”

Max waited for the shock or the distress at the idea of Rick putting more eggs in him, but that feeling never materialized. “Maybe later,” Max said. The thought didn’t slow his slide toward sleep. He could definitely get behind that idea at some idea in the future. But this moment was for the two of them. He tightened his arms around Rick and sighed when tentacles tightened around him in return. This was all Max needed.