Alien Exchange Program Ch. 01

Droos Bome stepped off of the landing rocket, a small satchel full of clothes the only thing in his possession. His point of arrival, an exotic alien colony known as Trenton, New Jersey, was incredibly cold by his species' standards. As a folifode, a soft skinned biped from the perpetually tropical world of Molk, Droos couldn't help but burrow his elongated face deeper into the thick garment provided following the flight, supposedly called a "coat" by the locals. His skin, normally a smooth blueish white, grew a pale cerulean in the cold, and he anxiously followed behind the rest of the tourists and visitors into the arrivals building.

Droos was a volunteer for the Alien Exchange program. Intended as a cross-governmental expression of good will between the citizens of the galaxy, anyone could offer to host members of a foreign species indefinitely, helping them integrate with the native culture; the guest got to experience the wonders of the universe for free, and the host received a pleasant little subsidy. The system apparently worked well enough, for there were countless such opportunities for those interested, though it was not without limitations. Unless you wanted to spend your entire time abroad in a burdensome space suit, it was ideal to find a planet whose natural chemistry didn't cause yours to combust. It was certainly possible to find such places, though it often came at the price of certain "sensory issues". Arbitrary differences in evolutionary development lead to arbitrary preferences in sensory input: while one species may smell a flower and find the aroma lovely, another would smell it as the rancid excretions of the recently dead. Truly compatible worlds were something of a rarity, especially in regard to sustenance: to find somewhere where food was digestible, let alone palettable, was a one in a million chance.

When Droos first read about Earth, he felt like he was being lied to. By some impossible fluke of biology, odds he couldn't begin to fathom, the food produced on Earth was reported by every visiting folifode as being impossibly delicious. That was just one of the many wonders of this planet, including a comparable climate, a completely analogous atmosphere, and a dominant species who seem more than happy to lavish their guests with meals which seemed larger than the ones eating it.

Humans, Droos thought as he was led with the crowd inside the heated buildings: beautiful, warm, loving humans. In the months he spent reading about them, looking at pictures of them, he had developed an honest to god fetish. They could easily grow to be twice his size, and looked not too terribly far off from folifode biology, save for a more flattened facial structure, warmer skin tones, and some decidedly longer limbs. Many humans were described by visiting folifodes as being incredibly attentive, almost parental in their love of pampering. When Droos discovered the exchange program had an opening for a folifode to come to Earth, he signed up almost immediately.

He sat on a bench next to a teenage hxarst, who occupied a considerably larger span of the bench than him. 5 of its 13 branchlike limbs fiddled about excitedly with a phone, trying to solve a word puzzle in its native hxartese. Droos watched as it figured out the 593rd letter in the novel length name of a famous hxarst director, and then checked his own device for messages. He was waiting on word from the human who'd be giving him a home, to let him know that they were there to whisk him away to do... humany things with him. He blushed deep blue, thinking of some of his more unsavory searches of the human race. As it turned out, there was a vast repository of imagery of human fat deposits, and he indulged liberally. Once, his roommate caught him gorking it to human leg fat, and he felt like a freak for a week. It didn't stop him from doing it more, however.

Ding!

Droos suddenly focused again on his phone, and his heart jumped; they were here, parked just outside. He still had no idea what they looked like, didn't know what type of human they were. He'd read about a few varieties, types like "womans", "dudes", and "cool guys". Evidently, most of the terms had gone and lost the majority of their meaning in the modern paradigm, though he always thought his favorite kind of humans were the ones covered in generous fat pads, especially along their sternum and pelvic regions. Something about them made him have the sort of hot and bothered thoughts normally reserved for a freshly post pubescent folifode, thoughts of grabbing and groping and being buried under the full weight of warm, warm humans. Of course, Droos thought, he'd be lucky to even just have the standard cool guy.

He texted back a quick "Coming!" and ran to the exit. The human, whose name he had no idea how to pronounce, was supposedly parked outside in a small red car. He'd read a lot about cars, and was excited to see one, on account of how stupid they looked. Heading back out into the cold, he snickered into his coat at the dozens of awkward devices rolling around the asphalt lot, the majority operated by humans. His laughter held as he got a solid look at them, those magnificent bipeds. Dressed in heavy coats though they were, he could still make out the way some of them filled out the fabric, their barely concealed weight straining to get out. Droos only realized he was staring when a cold wind struck him square in the face. He covered his face defensively, the chill overwhelming, before the sudden gust died down. Desperate to return to somewhere warm, he looked around for where his human might be, and realized just how many red cars there were in this one little space.

Droos groaned as he looked across the many red cars dotted about the parking lot. As he was about to start going to each car one by one, he saw a human waving him down. Standing next to a red sedan (he thought that's what it was called), the human's arms gestured toward him, and he started in their direction. As Droos approached, his heart began beating faster as he got a good look at his human host: they were tall, well over twice his size, with a head of long, curly orange hair, and a face making the expression he recognized as smiling. He couldn't quite make out their build through their clothes, but he thought he could see a prominent growth at their chest, and a width to their hips which seemed far above ordinary.

"Hi there, are you Droos Bome?" The human's voice was gorgeous, beyond his expectations. He shivered from the cold and excitement.

"Yes, hello!" Droos responded more than a little eagerly, causing the human to make an odd little noise (a laugh, he would later determine).

"I'm Maribelle, she/her, I'll be your assigned host while you're here on Earth; I hope the trip went well enough!"

Droos thought back to the 3 days of travelling, 4 connecting flights, and 12 hours of being sat next to a freung (a freung's main method of communication is through secretions of a highly odorous oil; this was a highly talkative freung).

"It was... alright, I'm just relieved to finally be here." Another freezing wind struck them both, and Droos involuntarily whined into his coat. Maribelle watched him tremble, and smiled quietly to herself.

"Oh, you poor thing, let's get you into the car where it's nice and warm." She opened the door of the vehicle, and ushered him in. It was a bit of a climb to get into the comparably large chair, but once he was properly seated, he felt incredibly comfortable. Compared to the utilitarian hardness and versatility of interstellar cruiser seating, this felt decadently made for him. Among the apparent myriad of miracles coming from the planet earth was the fact that human and folifode anatomy were so beautifully convergent that even furniture felt like a perfectly fitted glove, save for the indulgent difference in scale and cushioning.

"Aww, you folifodes always look so cute and small in car seats," she said, buckling him in. The cord pinned him tightly to the soft seat, and he felt like he would melt into the cushions. "You alright there sweetheart? You look like you're beginning to doze off."

Droos tried his best to look up at her, but the warmth of the car and his coat held him in a drowsy bliss. "Umm, yeah, I'm sorry, I guess I'm just really tired from my trip." Maribelle giggled at the sight of the tiny, docile alien, and buckled herself in.

"Don't worry dear, you just have a nice little nap, and I'll drive us all the way back home."

Droos made a small noise of contentment, before sinking into deep, comfortable sleep. Maribelle felt properly excited about this folifode. He would be the fifth one she hosted, and he was already proving to be by far the cutest. She had seen him looking at her chest- her tits. For a species that rarely developed significant body fat, this one seemed outright obsessed with it.

Lovely, she thought, and drove away with her docile little alien in tow.