Not a Thark, fighting humans. Yes?”I blinked. “Yes?”“Good.”The robes of the green martian – for that was what the woman was – fell aside...as she rolled her four shoulders. She was quite a sight. Definitely eight feet, as she topped me quite a bit. Her belly was flat with hard muscle, and her shoulders were lined with it – not thick slabs, but rather, lean tautness. She moved with a predators grace, and her form maintained more femininity than I had heard tell was common in green martians. Her. She greeted me one day with a smile and “Hello” over the fence but I was unable to make eye contact for fear she would see my inadequacies, insecurities, and rampant butt lust.Eventually, I was able to converse a little but only because she did most of the talking. I am not suggesting that we became chums because we didn’t. I understood that I was just a fill-in when she had vacancies in her calendar.There were never vacancies in her tight jeans or shorts however and she filled those to. More

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