She woke, stretching. Before her, the bridge of her ship winked with all lights green and steady. All was fully functioning, no signs of distress. She must have nodded off for a while. Checking the chrono, she saw that she’d been asleep no more than an hour.
She took care of some housecleaning chores after setting the bridge to autopilot, picking up soiled jumpsuits and putting them in the cleaning chute. She tidied up her small mess-hall, wiping the table, the dispensing unit, and performing a maintenance check. When her small ship was shipshape, she stopped, hands on hips, and surveyed her space. Nice. Tidy.
That her little nap had made such a difference in her energy level was surprising, but she’d been feeling a bit off of late. She sat in the captain chair, and plotted a course to the nearest star-base. She needed out of this small ship, some recreation, maybe some sex.
Oh, wasn’t that a necessary thing? She’d been carting her ass all over the fucking galaxy for nigh onto 8 months, and it was time for a break. She’d delivered meds to Praxus 3, flash-frozen livestock to Annabus, and a handful of packages to Alpha Centauri. She began to long for the scent of vegetation in the wind, the gleam of water, and the dance of real sunlight on her skin. It was time to go home to Terra Two, and soon. But for now, it was time to kick up her heels.
“I’ve been a good girl for too long.”
She spoke to the computer.
“Shut the fuck up,” she murmured, annoyed with the stupid drone. She needed an upgrade, to a companion unit. She turned in a fast circle, catching a whiff of herself.
She set the bridge to its new course, put on auto engage, and headed for her minuscule shower. Her left nipple was tender, just a bit. She didn’t remember hitting her breast on anything. Best to check it later. Doffing her clothing, and dropping it on the floor, she stepped into the stall, pushing buttons marked “clean” and “hair” and “deodorize”. A rush of air, a whiff of cargo chemical wash, the sting of a fast deodorant rinse, and she was done. Stepping clear of the cleansing unit, she swooped up her dirty duds, and stuffed it in the cleaning chute, and punched buttons on the Wardrobe box for something new. While the box hummed she checked her nipple in the mirror. A small bruise decorated her rosy orb, but nothing else. Might have done something in her sleep, she mused. The box chimed once, catching her attention.
In seconds, a pair of tight black pants, and a sparkle top appeared. Sliding into the pants, she admired how they showed her trim calves off, and the round curves of her ass. The shirt was skin-tight, and rubbed against her nipples, making them rise.
Nothing said “fuck me” like a sparkly shirt, and nipples, she thought with a smile. A chime caught her attention.
“yes, comp, what is it?”
The mechanical voice droned, “intersect with Space Station Delta in 15 standard minutes”
“I do not compreh…”
“Shut the fuck up,” she muttered. Fucking company issue computer! It didn’t comprehend the most basic of niceties. Ordering a pair of heeled sneaks to compliment the outfit, she spent a moment fluffing her now-clean hair, and applying a bit of paint to her face.
By the time she docked, she was ready to debark her little ship and have some fun.
Spaceports the galaxy over were the same, flying orbs that housed a variety of events for an ever-changing community of players. Some came to shake off space dust, as she had, some had come to transact business, and some were here for no good at all.
Those kind were often the most fun.
She strode into the manager’s office, and ordered her computer upgrades. Might as well take care of that while she was here. Better than dry docking anywhere else. Business done, she set off to find a bar.
Not a bar. Something a bit more exotic. Someplace with quiet corners and perhaps some music to move to. Right about now she was as randy as she’d ever been.
He stood at the copperwood bar, drinking. He’d had a hell of a week, a hell of a year, really. He was not cut out for space work. The green hills and farmland of home called to his spirit, yet the lure of space riches had sent him skyward. It was a decision that he only partly regretted. He’d be heading home, soon, and well set financially to take up the family homestead. He thought of his mother, waiting for her boys, tending the garden, of the golden retriever that sat at her feet for companionship these days. He’d seen the corn planted, the fields filling with sprouts, the tasseling and harvesting and clearing- all through the vids she’d sent. He missed the clear blue lake near the house, and the call of birds, the sharp tang of skunk, all the things that living on Terra One meant to him.
Still, he had gone with his brothers, worked hard these last months. It was uninspiring work, the view out any screen of the deep ebony of space. Even the beauty of the stars had become mundane after a while. He worked hard for the first six months. He tried harder for the next three. And then the mind-numbing boredom began to wear on him, and he began sleeping. A lot. There was hardly a day when he didn’t oversleep. It wasn’t intentional, he told his siblings. It was just that the boredom was getting to him. Big time. He’d though the excitement of being on a space ship would be fun. That he would love it. He was dead-wrong.
He’d been late often in his short-loved career, but just yesterday, he’d fallen asleep in his berth longer than he’d anticipated, causing him to miss nearly an entire shift. His brothers were not pleased, and only the fact that they were brothers kept them from beating the shit out of him when he’d finally shown up. He’d taken his older brothers shift to compensate, but visions from his dream-state kept him unfocused enough that they’d shaken their heads and sent him to the galley to make their dinner instead.
Closing his eyes, he could see her, the memories of the dream woman were that strong. She was petite, pretty, with huge eyes, and an even bigger rack. Her nipples were sweet and pink, and he remembered the feel of them between his fingers. He remembered too, the feeling of the soft silk of her hair as his hand fisted deeply in the long tresses, of her head bent back, those eyes staring up at him in fear. He’d dreamt of fucking her, hard and rough and fast. He was surprised that he hadn’t awoken covered in cum. In his dream-state, he’d shot string after string into her tight, hot, belly. His brothers would have teased him mightily – it was one thing to dream or watch porn, and another thing entirely to act like a randy teenager over it.
Now here he stood, mission finished. After a long terran year out in the meteor belt, they had finished filling the payload and were heading back to Terra Two to deliver it. The brothers had decided to dock here for a few days of rest and relaxation, arriving late last night. He knew he wouldn’t be going on with them; done with adventuring in space, he was ready for some settle time back home. He hoped to make a connecting shuttle and head back to Terra One. His mother would be ecstatic.
She walked into Tropic Shores, a dimly lit “recreational playground for adults, only” with a cat-like stride that moved like liquid sex. Her pants were tight, her heeled sneaks, sky-scraper tall. A few heads turned, and an Austorian goat-man whinnied at her. Of course, they would fuck anything. She didn’t smile, not seeking to encourage the creature. Once on target, they could be difficult to dissuade. Deciding to grab a drink at the bar and survey the options before she found a table, she stopped in shock…and recognition.
He was here.
Something deep and primal made her want to turn and flee. Memories returned with a rush, of running, hiding, and his arms like bars around her.
Of his fingers squeezing her plump nipple.
Of his cock buried in her pussy.
Of his seed flushing her womb.
Of his mouth on her throat.
Of his fist in her hair.
He stood, drink half-raised to his mouth, equally shocked. She watched him transform to the Hunter in seconds. It wasn’t a physical transformation, so much as mental. His eyes grew steely, his hand fisted at his side, his body went alert.
“Oh honey, if I was 75 years younger, I’d go gobble him right up! Whatcha waiting for? Go, sizzle.” She turned to see a native of Senglad, purple eyebrow raised. Her lips were curled into a smile, looking more like blue cauliflower, really. She frowned when the female poked her shoulder with one long finger, also blue.
“Go on with you, you silly thing. He’s lookin’ like he wants to just devour you, lucky girl.”
That was pretty much her assessment as well. Before she could make any decision, to stay and confront, or turn and flee, he strode up to her, stopping a scant inch in front of her. He was definitely intruding on her personal space.
It was peremptory, and raised her hackles. She heard, vaguely, the happy squee of the Sengladian, as His hand closed around her forearm, all but dragging her to one of the dimly lit grotto seating areas. Sounds from the area behind them made her very aware of what was going on there, and she felt a fresh surge of lust. Squashing it like an unwanted insect, she glared up at him.
“I’m not going with you…you …barbarian!”
“It appears you have.” He shoved her into a couch with no trouble at all, then straddled her.
“How did you do it?” He growled at her, as she lay under him. How familiar that was, the fucking bastard.
She lay back, propped up on her elbows, looking at the irate man pinning her to the lounge.
“What? What? Do what? I just got here, and…”
“You put me into your web and played a game with me.”
She shook her head, vehemently.
“Oh no, buddy boy. I fucking well did not.”
“Manners. You need not sound like a cruiser pilot.”
“Buddy, I AM a cruiser pilot. And I didn’t do a fucking thing to you. YOU did. Hunt me, will you?” She swatted his broad chest.
Damn he smelled good.
Her pussy stirred to life, even as his eyes narrowed. He looked at her tits, as her nipples roused, poking out the fabric of her shirt. She thought about bucking him off of her, while her tits distracted him, the stupid bastard.
She thought about fucking him, more to the truth. Damn him.
“Look. Let’s agree that neither of us have any idea of what the fu–” she paused, then deciding the better part of valor was restraint, continued on “…..heck happened to us. I can tell you that I heard voices, but that might make you think I was star-crazed or something-”
“no…I too heard voices,” he interrupted her. “As if we were pawns in a game.”
“Yes!” She sat up further, excited now. “Yes, that’s it exactly! And I’d forgotten it until I saw you, you cocky bastard, standing there at the bar. I wonder what the hell it all means.”
She felt the heavy lump against her thigh, her eyes drawn to the hidden treasure at the junction of his legs. Her eyes rose to his. She knew what that meant, at least. Something spurred her on, words that she didn’t know she was going to say all but spurted from her mouth.
“I’d like to try it again. Without the titty tags, and all the woo-woo stuff.”
“Try ….again?” He sounded disbelieving.
“You…I…” she flushed, suddenly embarrassed. The guy had fucked her, for gosh sake. It wasn’t like they were total strangers. They’d been naked in those scenes…yet it all had an element of the surreal to it.
“You. Me. Maybe a meal? A few drinks? And a bed. A really big, big bed.” She grinned. His cock understood, if that sudden growth spurt was any indication. Looking at her, into her, he finally slid back, moving off of her. Standing beside the lounging couch, he proffered his hand, and led her to a proper dining slot, silently agreeing with her, and began to talk.
“I make my home on Terra One….”
she turned away from the monitor with a smile. her children stirred up troubles from time to time, and she was glad that this incident was readily repairable. the two terrans would make good mates. taking their two metal tags, she popped them together, fusing them with a single thought, then placed them up in a jar with similar paired discs. another task completed, she moved off to her next chore, softly singing a song of love under her breath.