Becoming Kalanri, Part 3: Fruitful Partnership (Patreon)

An Anonymous Commission

Alan and Marcus are young men selected to become diplomatic emissaries to the kalanri, an beautiful, blue-skinned, all-female race of aliens. However, they soon find that the kalanri’s idea of ‘cementing relations’ involves literally becoming members of their species, and more than that, becoming pregnant with their young!

Part 1

Part 2 

Epilogue (Patreon Exclusive) 

Part 3: Fruitful Partnership

The news that Gracey had given birth had come several months ago. Two healthy girls - Kaley and Yssa - one a light shade of purple, the other a turquoise much like Nis’na’s own colour. They were over the moon, though Gracey was finding all the media attention a little difficult, as was Nis’na, who generally was a shy member of her species. Thankfully, the press had a much bigger field day when Ambassador Cleary went into labor in the middle of a United Nations address she was giving, being escorted off stage alongside Sanalga.  Marcus had watched the entire footage of her going into labor numerous times, and never stopped finding it funny.

After an arduous birth, two baby girls arrived: Ishna and Tabitha, and the people of Earth were already in love with them, as were the people of Kalen. All four babies had hair instead of selu, and their eyes were more human, as was their height, apparently. But they were identifiably half-alien, and it was considered a huge success for international relations. Less so, however, for Jennifer Cleary, who had taken maternity leave, and was more than a little red-faced over the public commentary on her ‘blossomed mom-bod’ as one magazine put it; she’d had to have all her uniforms and regular clothing taken out a few inches around the chest and hips, and the former stoic creases of her early-forties face were now glowing with near supermodel beauty.

“Oh man, I hope it doesn’t take long for her to have another one,” Marcus said, slapping her own prodigious belly lightly, “I don’t think the Ambassador would be able to make a joke at our own conditions ever again!”

They were currently laid back on the Nhadra Beach, on the equatorial line of the planet, soaking in the wonderful blue rays of the sun. Both were clad in the Kalanri equivalent of bikinis; a tube top that contained their growing bosoms, which was connected to a fabric that ran down either side of their waist, becoming a miniskirt that sat below their bellies, leaving them open-backed and open-bellied. Alan had to admit, it was a great look, and truly emphasised their large domes. Avara and Tevine were once more with them, as well as several attendants who had helped massage protective oils onto their stomachs and breasts.

“Mmhhm, this is the life,” Alan mused, as she lay back in her hover recliner, gazing out at the rippling silver sea. Her own womb rippled with life.

“Damn right,” Marcus said, beside her.

Both were wearing human sunglasses. Despite their new eyes not needing them, they had seemed appropriate, and other Kalanri were beginning to adopt it as a form of delightful human fashion.

“You know, this whole pregnancy thing is actually pretty fucking great,” Marcus said after a pause. Alan turned to her friend in surprise. “No, I mean it. I’ve never felt this way before Al. It’s crazy; I’ve been turned into a blue-skinned space babe, the kind that I would have loved to have sex with as a man - and really, I still do want to have sex with half the planet - but what’s been most amazing of all is feeling this life develop inside me.”

“I know what you mean. I was terrified of being the equivalent of nine months pregnant for nearly a year and half, but now, with only four months to go, I think I’m going to miss it.”

“Plus, we have bit tits.”

Alan snorted. “You do. Mine are still growing.”

“Mine started leaking this morning. Guess what colour the milk was?”

“Blue.”

“I had to express it. Tevine gave me a lot of help there.” Marcus chuckled. “Like you said, this is the life.”

Alan laid back, continuing to admire her own form. She idly walked her blue fingers over her taut dome. It was huge, dominating her slim body, even as her hips had widened further in preparation for birth, and her bust increased solidly to a C-cup. Blossom stage indeed, he thought. Even her selu head tentacles had lowered, and were long enough now that they were striving towards her shoulders. But it was the belly that was the biggest thing. A great blue planet, like Neptune, rounding out her figure for all to see, celebrated by Kalanri on the street, even those who didn’t know their origin. To be fertile and full was venerated, and it was no wonder the Kalanri held so many worlds, governed by peace and prosperity.

Alan sighed in contentment as her girls shifted within her, kicking gently. It was not always easy, being so pregnant for months on end. Like humans, Kalanri still needed to pee, and this big, she needed to pee often. And there were nights where sleep was difficult. But the sensation of growing new life, of literally creating living beings inside of her that would soon be birthed into the world, was gratifying beyond imagining. Her body had become a vessel, an interstellar fertility idol, and sometimes it felt like the course of her life had always been destined to this point, that she was now literally made to make babies.

Even in her dreams, Alan imagined being full of life once again. She daydreamed of motherhood, not just her impending one, but motherhoods beyond that. She imagined the embrace of the wise and imperious Avara, this woman whose stern yet kind manner could guide her in her people’s ways, and she pleasured herself at the mere thought of it; she and Marcus both did, though they did not share their wanton dreams, they had embraced the spirit of free love of Kalen, and masturbated when relaxing, not caring who saw. It was normal.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” Alan said, feeling a little kick inside her. She raised a hand, feeling her sore breast. Sore, yes, but it was a good soreness, one that pleased her to fondle, practically urging her mammaries to grow. When she called Gracey these days, and even Cleary to give her congratulations, she found herself jealous of them, that they had given birth and she had not.

“Soon, it can’t come soon enough,” she whispered, leaning back.

Avara and Tevine returned from their swims in the ocean, mother and daughter smiling, the former dryly, the latter with open abandon. Alan could see the resemblance now, and it warmed her. Avara’s body was clearly in the purelight stage; her head-tentacles reached down her back and swayed gently with each movement, and her breasts were incredibly ripe, nearly the size of her own head. Both were almost naked but for the minimal wrapping around their waists. For a mere moment, Avara and Alan exchanged glances, and the wise, motherly Kalanri smiled knowingly.

“You know what I want,” Alan whispered to herself.

***

“Things are going well,” Avara said with stoic pride. “You fit in well, and this bodes well for our ongoing species’ relations.”

The two former men were chaperoned at a high-class event, and introduced to many important artists, philosophers, and individuals of renown in Palantea. The food was spicy and exquisite, which was good, as Alan and Marcus found their pregnant bodies increasingly ravenous for food, both craving spice; apparently, the banquet had been chosen specifically to fulfil this usual request. They dined well, discussing matters of Earth and Kalen, laughing at jokes and taking in the good treatment they received as dignitaries of their homeworld, and soon to be mothers: birth was only about a month away.

Alan was on Avara’s arm, and the younger woman was surprised at how gentle and close the older woman was being. Marcus was elsewhere, laughing up a storm, letting a procession of individuals touch her belly, and practically tonguing Tevine in public. The two had gotten close. But Alan found herself increasingly drawn to her first partner, even after the minor experiments she’d had with herself, and with Marcus. The former humans had enjoyed their brief forays with one another, pregnancy hormones driving a horniness that left their bellies pressed against one another, but their original lovers were fast becoming paramours in truth.

At least, that’s what Alan hoped. She had never met anyone quite like Avara, who seemed natural in any environment, quick-witted with any comment, and able to soak in information while never forgetting it. She had the poise of a geisha, the knowledge of a scholar, and the artist’s skill with a brush: she had painted Alan naked, swollen with child, appearing beatific and at peace. Alan couldn’t help but cry when she saw it, and examined it every day, much to Avara’s quiet happiness.

“I am glad I am fitting in well,” Alan said, as she drank a glass of yellow nectar from the Orain Fields, suitable for a glowing woman in her final month of pregnancy. “I feel it will be difficult to return to Earth, now that I am so good at being Kalanri.”

Avara gazed at her with slight amusement, and Alan found it hard for her wandering eyes not to fall to the vibrant blue alien’s incredible chest. She found a hint of jealousy and admiration there. “You are that good at being Kalanri, are you?”

Alan felt a hint of challenge there, and she straightened her back, allowing her great globe of a belly to stick out even more than usual. “I believe I am. I carry your children after all, and you are the most Kalanri person I have met.”

Avara leaned close, the taller woman whispering in Alan’s ear. “Show me, then. In private.”

Alan blinked. It was difficult to see what meaning existed behind those completely purple eyes, devoid of pupils. “You mean - leave the party?”

A nod. “They will understand, they are Kalanri.” She moved closer, and brushed at the sensitive selu tapering down Alan’s neck. “And, I want you, Alan of Earth. It has been too long since we coupled, and I would desire it again, if you wish.”

Alan did.

The two of them made their way to a private room, Alan glowing with pleasure and growing in horniness. As soon as they reached the bed, Avara helped her remove her clothing. There was a lustful look from the older alien that she had never seen before, an eagerness and enthusiasm that she had long restrained. She removed her own clothing slowly but certainly, freeing her melon-sized breasts, which were topped with dark blue nipples.

“You look amazing,” Alan said. “No, you look perfect.”

“And you look ready,” Avara said, easing the pregnant woman back onto the bed and caressing her roundness. “Ready for motherhood. Ready to be Kalanri.”

Her fingers moved further south, and Alan moaned eagerly in her womanly voice as the alien’s fingers entered her depths, already moist and ready.

“Oh God, that’s good.”

“You said you were Kalanri. Do you not mean ‘by the Goddess’?”

“By the Goddess - MNMHM! OOohhh . . . that’s good.”

Avara stood over the sitting woman, allowing Alan to nuzzle and suck as her immense chest. “I can tell you like these, do you not?”

“I do - fuck, I do!”

“I am pleased with them myself,” Avara said, smiling more eagerly than she normally did. “Did you know that you could have a pair much like them, if you stay into the purelight stage?”

Alan moaned as her ministrations continued, and Avara groaned slightly as her erect nipples were played with.

“I’d - oh - like that very much!”

“I know you would. A Kalanri only becomes more fertile as her years and stages progress in life. Were I to become pregnant now, I could expect a beautiful set of quadruplets, even quintuplets, with your eyes, I would hope.”

Alan paused, just for a moment, but continued as Avara moved down. She pulled the older woman again her own breasts, and the purelight Kalanri drank eagerly from her bosom, suckling at Alan’s milk in a way that made both of them sigh in pleasure.

“I - that sounds amazing!”

Avara pulled back. “It is. Truly. I wish to sire again, but I shall play the role of a human ‘father’ several times first. Would you like that, between us, Alan? Would you like me to fill you again, when this lot is through?”

Her fingers worked expertly within Alan’s folds, and she could feel a climax coming.

“Yes - Avara, I want that. I want it so bad. I was embarrassed to admit it!”

Avara laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. “Your friend Marcus is far more embarrassed. I think, even as we speak, my daughter is bringing him around. The truth is, I have loved you for some months already, my beautiful Kalanri.”

Alan gasped, there was so much pleasure, but this somehow heightened it. “You - you do?”

“I do, yes. I think I have loved you ever since I sensed your love of learning, your desire for understanding, your passion for new experiences, arts, and philosophies. And, of course, for this.”

She stroked Alan’s dome, children shifting within, and Alan could take no more. She pulled the older woman into a loving embrace, and they kissed long and deeply; mentor and student, dominant and submissive, native Kalanri and the transformer from the stars. They pulled apart, and Alan didn’t want this moment to end. Those glowing purple eyes widened in lust, and Avara licked her full blue lips before speaking.

“Do you wish to enter Infinity?”

Alan could only nod eagerly. She’d never wanted anything this much. She wanted to be round and full with alien babies forever. She wanted to embrace this life with Avara forever. The older woman stroked the new Kalanri’s selu, bringing further shocks of delight, and in that heightened state, gave Alan the doorway to Infinity.

She entered it, and pleasure beyond imagining came.

***

“You must push, young one!” the midwife called.

Alan groaned in pain. In agony. There was such pressure in her swollen stomach that it was difficult not to push, but lacked the power to vocalise even that. She was on her back, legs spread wide, experiencing natural labour, which was most celebrated by the Kalanri. As was the custom of her new people, Alan was undergoing labour entirely naked, her beautiful and fertile form upon a comfortable bedding that moulded perfectly to her form. She could feel her daughters eager to get out, and her swollen breasts ready to receive them.

“It is not long now, my love,” Avara said, holding Alan’s hand with care, “soon it will be over, and you will be a mother in truth.”

“AAGHH! Oh - oh - oh, that was a big one. So similar to human births.”

Avara mopped up the sweat that had pooled around Alan’s forehead and selu. “With one final difference; a pleasure, at the end.”

“I - ah! - look forward to it. I look forward to all of it!”

Her belly tensed, rippled, and another urge to push came. Alan screamed, uncaring of how utterly feminine it sounds - she was, after all, completing the ultimate feminne act. She embraced it, the pain and discomfort, all of it. As horrible as the pressure was, it was wonderful in its own way, a precursor to new life, literal birthing pains. She knew, even in the midst of it, that she wanted to experience it again. And again. And again.

“Get Cleary on the screen!” she yelled, and for a moment no one knew what she was talking about. She had to ride out another contraction before she could repeat it.

One of the nurses - a pale green in colouring, hesitated. “Are you certain now is the best time -”

“She knows what she wants,” Avara said, kissing her lover’s belly. “I will make the contact. Be patient, my love.”

“OOOohohh - I’m t-trying!”

In just a few minutes, the screen turned on. It must have been late at night where she was, because Cleary was on the screen in a nightgown, looking tired and irritated, two blue babies at her humongous breasts. Alan idly mused that there was likely not a regulation uniform that would fit those puppies, and Cleary would be no doubt frustrated by that fact.

“Alan Pickett what the hell have you called me for - Oh my God! Woman, what are you calling now for? Is everything all right?”

Alan grunted, fully aware that her naked breasts, bloated midsection, and dilating nethers were on full display before her superior. She didn’t care; she was Kalanri now, and she held no shame over her form, only pride.

“Ambassador, s-sorry to be calling you - aahhhh - at this time. And c-can I offer my c-congratulaions to you and Sanalga. You look glowing!”

Cleary frowned, looking down at the bulging belly on display, her brown skin poking through the nightie where it had not been buttoned up.. “Damn, that wasn’t meant to be in the shot. Don’t tell Marcus, I’ll never hear the end of it and frankly I’d like to put off the time that damn jokester finds out.”

“It’s - mmhhmm - it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all peachy. My own daughters can’t believe it. I have less rooms in the house than I’ll soon have kids. You heard about Gracey?”

“Aagh - y-yes. Sent my congratulations there too.”

“We’re all a bunch of goddamn baby makers, I swear! I blame Sanalga. Anyway, I don’t want to think about my own hooch stretching again, let alone seeing your blue one. What’s this about?”

“Well, speaking of b-babymaking, I - OOHHHH - I officially request an extension to my diplomatic mission, ma’aaaammm nnghh!”

Cleary’s eyes shot wide awake, and for a moment, little Tabitha had to relatch to her milky breast.

“How long?”

Avara smiled, and nodded in support to Alan.

“I’m th-thinking another four years? M-maybe six? Or s-seven?”

“Jesus. Why not make it forever and call it a done deal?”

“Ooohh . . . would that be p-possible?”

Cleary was certainly not expecting that. The pregnant Ambassador briefly flustered, regaining herself only as she looked at her own blue children, gently suckling away.

“I think it could be. Are you sure about this, Alan?”

“MMhhm - I am! I want to stay! I’ll still do my j-job, but I’ve got something else now, too.” She looked to Avara lovingly.

“Well, I can get it done. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Alan said, trying not to chuckle. “Expect a similar call from Marcus. You’ll get your last - ah! - last laugh!”

That was enough to make Cleary grin. “Best of luck, woman,” she said, and signed out. Alan collapsed back, smiling.

“I’m pleased,” her lover said, playing with her tentacle-hair as the next contraction rolled through her.

“Me t-too. I want this, again. And one other thing.”

The pressure was building, another need to push, and Alan could sense this was the final time. The moment her babies would finally enter the world after two blessed years of growing them.

“Anything, my love.”

Alan caressed Avara’s face. “I don’t want to give birth as Alan. I want to be a kalanr, in full. I want you to choose for me a new name.”

The midwife called. It was time to bear down and push. Alan parted her legs as far as she could, and pushed with all her might. The living contents of her womb began to shift down into her passage, pushing through her alien cervix, and expanding the width of her tunnel. She gritted her teeth, selu writhing on her neck as her babies slid closer and closer to the outside world. It was painful, it was horrendous, it was wonderful. And even as the pain increased, so did the pleasure, and the feeling of orgasm, as the delight of bearing children, drew closer also. She screamed in joy as the first arrived, sliding out from her body into the waiting arms of the midwife, and the other followed not far behind, causing her whole body to shiver, her breasts trembling with delight at the ultimate act of creation. The pain fell away, and only the feeling of something like post-coital pleasure remained.

She had done it. Her daughters Dacia and Jarlan had arrived.

“Congratulations,” Avara said, placing two beautiful blue daughters at Alan’s breasts. “You are a mother, Cereia.”

***

Marcus did not ask for a permanent life on Kalen. Instead, the darker-skinned of the new alien woman drip fed her requests for extensions, asking for them every two to four years as childbirth approached. There was always another reason to stay for the former alpha male, always some area of understanding, interest in a strange alien sport, a cultural festivity approaching, and so on. Half the excuses she made fit Alan better, but in truth, both of them knew that neither would ever go back. The former player and ladies’ man had slowly lost her embarrassment at her new form and began to delight in it, enjoying her incredible looks and enhanced fertility, going on dates and pursuing nights of free love as a woman as easily as she had a man, though she always returned to Tevine, her first.

“What can I say, my services continue to be needed,” he stated in an interview with a reporter from Earth, “and if that means I need to remain female and have more children in order to fulfil the mission, then that’s what I’ll do.”

She gave the interview already heavily pregnant with her second set of twins, having birthed her first set - Hari and Noeste - a week after Alan. More than a couple of Marcus’ ex-girlfriends and old fuckbuddies managed to get messages, recordings, and even letters sent congratulating her on ‘finally taking responsibility.’ At this point, even through the embarrassment, she took it in stride. Being a mother, having two beautiful daughters feeding on her, was enough. Especially given, as she was purple-faced to learn, she was a prodigious lactator.

After several cycles, she too took a Kalanri name; Nithynia, meaning ‘one who turns to the road,’ which she found quite appropriate. Cereia, formerly Alan, celebrated with her, and both women gathered once more in Palantea to consummate their new lives with Avara and Tevine.

Life continued, and both former males entered further into their blossom stages as the years passed, keeping in touch with Jennifer Cleary, who had finally entered menopause.

“Thank God,” she had said, “six was enough! Sanalga wouldn’t have stopped at ten, I swear!”

Gracey too, remained a close friend to Cereia, and visited Kalen to meet with her, so that their children might also meet. Cereia embraced her old girlfriend, and the two reminisced about old times, joking about the unexpected directions their lives had taken, and poking fun at how incredibly pregnant both had become once more; Gracey with her third set of twins, Cereia with her second - though both knew the latter would win out for numbers in the long run.

In truth, Cereia was saddened to see her children go. She loved her babies, and she was still human enough in culture and spirit that it felt wrong, on some level, to allow her children to be raised communally away from her once they were weaned from her milk. But Avara was there for her, reassuring her that what she did was right, and that she could still visit her children anytime, and play a part in raising them also.

“As you humans are wont to say; it takes a village.”

It did not take long for the heat to come upon Cereia once again. Unlike Nithynia, who flitted from partner to partner in sexual flirtations, yet always orbited Tevine, Cereia felt utterly bound to Avara, and the two spent their nights cradled in one another’s arms. The purelight Kalanri’s body only became more abundant and curvy over time, much to Cereia’s enjoyment, and she herself ‘blossomed’, her breasts becoming full D-cups forever pert and rounded. They travelled the world of Kalen and even other colonies together, and their passion only enhanced; Avara had not lied when she said her species only become more fertile and fecund with age.

Cereia experienced many pregnancies in the decades that followed. The feeling of new life growing within her never ceased to give her wonder, or sexual thrill. When she did not possess a rounded dome of a stomach, something felt not quite right in the world, and even other Kalanri marvelled at her sheer gravidity, her cycles of pregnancy following quickly from one another. The feeling of having a beautiful rounded dome, as awkward and cumbersome as it could be, far outweighed any negatives. Her skin only brightened as she continued to produce children, and her eyes took on their increasingly purple state earlier than most of her adopted kind. The feeling of pushing new daughters into the world never ceased to be a pleasure, nor the orgasmic joy of that one moment of creation, where they exited her being. She loved every one of her daughters, and always kept track of their birthdays; it was a human cultural allowance made for her, and it made her daughters feel loved too.

Occasionally, she gave an interview to the Earth press, or a particular magazine, or even a Kalanri media service. They often asked her if she ever intended to change back. Sometimes Nithynia would even be beside her. In response, all they would do was rub their distended bellies, letting the world see their perfect maternal bodies, and say:

“Why would I ever change back, when I have everything I want right in here?”

And, as if on cue, an adorable little foot might imprint against a stomach.

***

It was over five decades later when Avara woke ahead of her paramour. Some days she could still not believe the trajectory her own life had taken; falling in love with a former human! And yet she had; she was lying against that very once-man in that moment, cradled against Cereia, her arm over the alien’s immensely distended womb.

A series of shifting movements disturbed the skin, and Cereia moaned softly in discomfort, but also a deep satisfaction. Avara mused. She was right, it was as if her body was made for making children. She has blessed this world with so many. Indeed, five beautiful little lives shifted within, half-dreaming, occupying an immense amount of space. It was Cereia’s largest pregnancy yet, her first in her purelight phase of life. Avara found it deeply alluring. Despite all her stoicism and gentle repose, her lust had only enhanced over her two centuries of life, and it was this woman who was now the recipient of it all, as their many children showed. Cereia had insisted on carrying most of them, but occasionally the older woman still felt her call to produce. It was a most delightful day when she and her daughter Tevine went into labor at the same hour, in the same room. A most blessed experience.

Avara felt the warmth stir in her, and smiled. She had become a matriarch only several years before, and already found herself more horny than even her most needy experiences as a purelight. Her selu dragged on the ground, a sign of almost royal wisdom, and Cereia’ loved to play with them. They both did. Her breasts were now very large indeed, and Cereia joked that they were equivalent to a ‘mega porn star’s’, but had never elaborated on what that meant. Avara could only assume it was a mark of high honour, but kept the compliment between them just in case. Nothing gave her greater joy than showing Cereia the wonders of the universe, and pleasuring her at every stage. They were currently on the paradise resort planet of Hrad’dar, and company would be coming soon.

But first, there was the need.

Her hands rose up to reach Cereia’s delightful bosom, quite prodigious for a purelight, and she started to massage them. The incredibly pregnant woman groaned, still half-conscious, but she began to wake with her ministrations.

“Mmhhm . . . Avara, you always wanted it now that you’re a matriarch.”

“You are my muse, Cereia,” she whispered, “you inspire me.”

Cereia tried to turn over to face her lover, but several attempts fails to dislodge her enormous boulder of a belly. “Damn, too pregnant.”

“Do I hear a complain about being pregnant, now?”

“No complaint. I love it. I love that you’ve done this to me. I would also love it if you came over to this side so I can stick my face in your enormous tits.”

Avara smiled. She was so delightfully obsessed with her bosom. She kissed Cereia on the back and moved to the other side, so that they faced one another, and Avara’s naked hips lay against the undulated tautness of the other woman’s pregnant dome.

“By the Goddess,” Cereia said, “they’re so big. Think mine will be that big some day?”

“Bigger, I would say. I was smaller than you at your age?”

“Mmhm . . . I’d like that.”

“You’ll need that, my love. You have five within you. If you continue to lust for pregnancy - and I suspect you will - you might get as high as ten in your mid-matriarch years. You’ll need them big, for the milk.”

“Ahhhh . . . I’d be okay with that. And those patterns on your skin, to have my own . . . mhhm . . . you’re not convincing me against it.”

Avara leaned in close, kissing the former man deeply, appreciating how her lover’s skin hue had only brightened, and her selu now descended to her back.

“I wasn’t trying to, my love. I like you big and round, just as you do. As does someone else, who we shall see today. Tevine will be visiting, and Nithynia with her.”

“Mmhm . . . more babies?”

“Yes, my love, though Tevine carries them this time.”

“Well, maybe we can all come back here later. You can show me a good time, maybe I can convince you to have one last litter. Nithynia and Tevine can go over there, and my old friend can get knocked up too. We’ve never had all four of us with child before.”

Cereia smiled, eyes still closed, dreaming of all the beautiful babies. She really does love it, mused Avara, as both traced their hands over the spherical belly, and all the life within. And she has entered the purelight stage so much sooner than my kin. Could some remnant of her human past be advancing her stages earlier? She decided not to voice it, though the prospect of having another matriarch to share her bed excited her.

“Perhaps, my love. Perhaps. But until then, I have a matriarch’s need, and you have a Kalanri’s spirit. Let us celebrate life together.”

Cereia grinned. “I’m so happy I stayed a Kalanri.”

“Yes, it was a most successful diplomatic mission. Now let us enjoy the fruits of it.”

The two blue beings pressed closer together, minding the large belly, as they had done uncountable times before.

And would for uncountable times to come.

The End