Disclaimer: All right, this story is not real. NOT REAL! Not to be read by anyone under the age of 18/21 yadda yadda yadda! I'd love to hear some feedback as per usual. please feel free to leave me a comment in the COMMENT Box at the end of the page. You see those big empty stars too? Maybe bump those up to five full ones? We wouldn't want them to be empty now would we? All alone like that? You're not a monster are you?
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Newly appointed Captain, Amanda Thatcher surveyed her new vessel the U.S.S. Starjumper from the docking window of Deep Space Nine, a Cardassian space station now occupied by the federation. She had seen the diagrams forwarded to her by Starfleet command but there was nothing quite like seeing it first hand.
She let out a heavy sigh and folded her arms, only to unfold them again.
She was nervous.
This always happened when she was assigned to a new ship. The warp nacelle at the back of the ship whirred to life and was coloured with blue and red as the teams prepared to beam aboard civilians and their belongings.
It was a smaller ship, a Dakota class, rather than the two standard nacelles it had four thinner nacelles compared to the standard Excalibur class, a ship she had previously served on. The hull and saucer section were one and the same in the ship of a capital 'D'. Looking at the side, it hadn't struck her before but the bottom pair of nacelle were actually in front of the top two and were partly protected by the hull.
She had received a commendation as Captain after she took control of the U.S.S. Hastings, an Oslo-class Escort in a tangle with some rouge Gorn.
Thinking back to that dark day, the Captain had beamed over to personally aid the Gorn after they had engaged some Romulans. It turns out that the entire thing was a trap concocted by a disgraced Klingon general and his Reman ally. He had only just let out a warning before he, and the away team was killed. She had raised the shields and fought off the Gorn ship.
She had been summoned to Vice Admiral Norton's office on Starbase 64 and was then promoted to Captain along with the Christopher Pike medal. To say she was overwhelmed would have been an understatement.
She smiled at the thought of how lost she was back then and now she had her own ship. Running a hand through her short golden hair, she was about to turn when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking over at the hand, she saw it was her Commander, Zorah.
He was a muscular Andorian standing at a mean six foot five, he hadn't shaven and was sporting a goatee that wrapped neatly around his mouth.
"Captain." He said with a goofy smile.
"Hello Zorah." She replied, extending a hand. He shook it warmly as they exchanged pleasantries. His hair was combed backwards, giving it a spiky look. Zorah was clad in the newest uniform styling with the grey shoulder pads, a black base and the department appropriate colouring under shirt. As Zorah was Commander and second in command, his under shirt was red, the same as Thatcher's.
"How's the loading going?" She asked as they walked along the catwalk towards the cargo and personnel elevator.
"Good. All of the families are on board and now the crew are getting on. All the equipment's good and our chief engineer is just running a few diagnostics."
"Good, good. We'll have to say our goodbyes to Kira and the team here. They've been very hospitable."
"Indeed. Promenade." Zorah said out loud, as the elevator whirred to life and brought them down one level. As they stepped out, Zorah quickly turned on one heel and was about to leave when Thatcher tugged on his arm.
"Commander Zorah! What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing sir, it's just... Oh by the spirits she's seen me..."
With that a glass tore through the air, narrowly missing Zorah and Thatcher, smashing into a thousand pieces against the gun metal grey wall. Turning to see who the hell threw it, Thatcher was greeted with Zorah getting a slap in the face.
"You ungrateful son of a!" It was a shorter Bajoran woman with long brown hair that wrapped around her neck and rested on her right shoulder. She slapped him again and then rained down blows until Thatcher pulled her off.
"Easy now!" Thatcher warned as the Bajoran huffed and tossed her hair back. "And just who are you? His latest victory?"
"His Captain. Now can you explain yourself?"
"Oh it's easy. This guy comes into Quarks last night and starts crying. I ask him what's wrong and he says he's dying!"
"Zorah?" Thatcher said, turning to face the blue skinned, white haired Commander.
"Don't let him deny it! He said he was dying and only had a few more weeks to live! So I feel sorry for him and take him back to my quarters then... Well..."
Last night...
Zorah was tugged through the door by Rano Drake, a Bajoran waitress who was wearing very little. She tugged at her hair and it fell loose running over her shoulders. She looked like a Goddess as she pushed Zorah to her bed. Unzipping the top, she drew it over her sexy figure to reveal her... What was the human word for them? Breasts, that was it. He had always had trouble remembering human words as was the problem with being an Andorian. Their words were long and troublesome so everything had to be shortened. He had always believed that if something was worth saying it was appropriate to call it by the correct name. But that was neither here nor there, he was about to have sex.
Rano's breasts were a sizeable 34C, ripe for sucking as she climbed onto his lap. Zorah sat up and took the left breast into his mouth, sucking on the skin, flicking his tongue against her hardening nub.
Rano moaned aloud as she hooked her legs around his waist and put her hands on his shoulders. Leaning back, she moaned to the sky, as he ran his hands up and down her back, admiring her soft skin. Swapping to her right breast, Zorah left the faintest saliva trail as he tasted her other mountain.
All the while, she had been grinding her lap on his and his penis had been hardening... Or rather his 'dick' had been hardening as one of the human ensigns had taught him. Breaking his lip lock with her tits, they shared a kiss as her hands worked their magic. Undoing his shirt and pants, she had reached inside and exposed his member to the room. It stood at seven inches tall and was proportionatly thick.
Moaning into the kiss, Rano stroked his shaft up and down, the skin creased and straightened as she tugged at it. Reaching down, she parted her lower lips and let the shaft invade her. It pushed past her lips and went deep inside her making both lovers moan with happiness. Lifting herself upwards, she let herself drop again taking all of his dick.
