Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
That guy was a dick and that lady was going to need a lot of therapy.
“Oh. That would explain it. I wonder if Klynn has run into any of those in his reading yet.” Daddy blinked but didn’t seem to realize that sentence didn’t have enough context to make sense. “What kind of reading material do you ingest?”
Daddy paused again. “No. Consume?”
Hmm.
English was kind of weird.
“Consume works. I like things like romance novels and sci-fi, the hard kind and the dirty kind. But who doesn’t like tentacles?” Everyone around town seemed to like them but Daddy just blinked. He was easily confused.
Didn’t everyone know about tentacle porn?
There were even real romances with tentacle aliens in them that weren’t just word porn.
It was a whole genre.
Comedians made dirty jokes about it…how did he not know that?
“Um, fiction books. Stories that aren’t real and are just made up. Make believe. Books that let you play pretend about aliens and people falling in love and space.” I wasn’t sure listing off more would help, so I waited for him to think about it since books seemed confusing too.
Where could he be from where they didn’t at least have Amish romance novels?
Every library I’d ever seen had those.
“Stories.” Daddy frowned again but seemed to be processing. “Like the way poetry can tell a story but in a longer form?”
Where was he from? Mars?
Oh.
Daddy didn’t know what dirty books were.
Daddy didn’t know much about littles.
Daddy didn’t know what telling someone they were hot meant.
My mother was going to kill me.
“Yes.” Okay, we were going to explain books and then handle the other stuff. “Like sometimes cultures have stories we tell children to teach them lessons?”
When he nodded, grasping that concept, relief rushed through me. “We started there too but we kept going. Some people love telling stories, so we eventually started writing them down. Adventures and love stories…from all kinds of places and now we tell stories about alien adventures and falling in love with all kinds of people.”
Yes, that would show him I was open-minded.
“I’ve read stories about people falling in love where one of them was human or at least looked human and one of them was from another planet or another time or even another dimension.” Daddy’s head started nodding, so I thought we were making progress. “Mates come from all kinds of different places but we love them anyway because they’re our mate.”
Did he get it?
Was that the right English to use?
Did portal people count as aliens from another planet or another dimension?
Chapter 4
Toman
I had a mate.
Klynn was going to be highly frustrated.
However, he could be frustrated after I figured out what he was reading.
“I will have more questions on reading.” My mate nodded like that was an obvious statement but my brain was slow to process. “Not for me. I have a work partner. Partner has multiple meanings but this is a work and…and research-based relationship.”
My mate’s head tilted and he gave an exaggerated frown that clearly indicated thinking. “Is that the grumpy man the diner men were looking for? They were worried since they hadn’t seen him lately.”
Yes, Klynn was probably the grumpy man in question.
“The people at the diner made him uncomfortable.” I was going to have questions for my mate on that situation as well. “So he is spending most of the time at our camp. We have been camping.”
That was technically correct and was not a lie but it was leaving out what the humans called context.
Context mattered.
It was like no was a complete answer.
My mate smiled, rocking on his feet and looking pleased. “I like camping. I like exploring and going new places and getting hugs from my mate.”
Hugs?
Oh.
My mate required physical touch to provide comfort and confidence in our bond.
“I have never had a mate before.” That gave him humor but he made an excited sound when I opened my arms in what was thankfully a universal gesture. “I am happy to provide physical contact for my mate.”
My mate, Wren, quickly stepped into my arms and let out a pleased hum as he snuggled close and rubbed his face against my chest. “That’s much better. Thank you, Daddy.”
I was touching my mate.
Touching him.
Yes, touching him.
Closing my arms around him to complete the hug, I applied what I hoped was the appropriate pressure and rubbed his back as I’d seen other couples behaving. Wren made another pleased sound and rested his cheek on my body. “That’s perfect. You’re doing a really good job. But can I ask a question?”
This was the point where I was certain “oh dear” would have been an acceptable response.
“Yes, my mate.” He seemed to want to stay close to me, so I continued to hug and caress him in what I thought was socially acceptable to humans.
“You’re doing a good job at it…but where you’re from…you guys don’t hug a lot, do you?” Again, nothing in his physical reactions seemed to project stress and even our tentative bond seemed positive.