Frayed End Of Space Pt 01

A short story Trilogy by Ashley Stout

"Haven't you heard of the space gypsies? Blue aliens, man. Blue like the genies from old pop culture. We call them Jinsie. Jinn is the name of an Arabic devil or some crap, I think. Right. And they're totally blue. I mentioned that, didn't I? Blue as deep ocean. Blue as fucking...what's blue? Sapphires." He snorted. "

That

kind of blue. And alien as fucking E.T."

"E.T.

was

an alien, dipshit."

"Hey, fuckhole. Fuck off."

"Sterling retort, Jeeves."

"Can I tell a story to the rookie or what? Huh? Can I tell a goddamn story or fucking what? Shit."

"Go for it. Preach the boogeyman to the runt and see if you don't make a complete asshole of yourself. Can I get another beer over here? Or two. You want one, rookie? You'll need it by the time Jeeves is done talking at ya."

"Screw you, Tat. And you better buy me a beer, too."

"Fine. Three beers."

"Alright, as I was saying: these Jinsie, they haven't got any more of their females. The girls are completely extinct because once upon a time, the Jinsie dudes figured out how to wire the genetics so more males were born. You know how the Purple Death on planet Earth killed off a quarter of the human population and scientists tried to fix it with test tubes, but all the manmade children were sterile, and things got even more fucked up? Well, Jinsie soldiers needed more warriors to fill their armies, you see, because they were busy conquering a universe and that requires able bodies, so they went ahead and engineered some that were born twice as fast without the assistance of a womb. Don't ask me how. But the artificially created males only produced male offspring. So the Jinsie have a hoard of armies having nothing but more male babies, and generations have passed with only a handful of Jinsie females born. The unfortunate gals are auctioned off to the highest Jinsie bidder for when they come of age. Never saw one myself but I heard they're goddamn hot, with like, extra tits and a tongue the size of my forearm. Anyway, so these Jinsie, they're flying around a universe, conquering shit, which gets the testosterone flowing, you know, but there's no women for them to fuck. They don't crave earth women, not the natural sex way, because pussy juices are all wrong."

"Juices?"

"Yeah. A Jinsie cunt juice is acidic and that's what gets a Jinsie cock off. Can't cum without the acid. And women, human women, they haven't got the acidic cunts. Well, I met a few women with pussies I could have sworn could burn a whole through the hull but that's another—"

"Christ, dude, get on with it!"

"Anyways, after desperately fiddling around with corpses of some humans, the Jinsie figure out that they can, actually, find a way to cum in them. Stomach acid, you see, it's good for getting them off. But they don't go in through the belly, no, like any healthy male they appreciate the tightness of constriction. They fuck through the faces, and their dicks are so long that it hits the stomach acid, and the vomit and spit all gets them going. Because their dicks are so big and stuff, they actually suffocate the person while they're fucking them. They love to skull fuck captives, man. Fuck 'em to

death

. And they don't care if it's male or female they're wetting their dick into. Oh, no. Stomach's all the same to them."

"Moral of the story is don't get caught."

"Or keep your mouth shut if you do, hahaha."

"You're filth, you know that, Jeeves?"

"Fuck you, Tat."

"Look, rookie, this is nothing to worry about. Most Jinsie don't leave survivors around for the sake of fucking. They're an aggressive breed and tend to get carried away and murder just about everything they come across. Strong as rabid oxen. Most likely, if you meet one you'll be dead soon and they can't make use of you."

"How do you know? How do you know they don't fuck the dead, too? Desperate times being what they are and all."

"Jesus, Jeeves!"

"Happened to China, y'know."

"Wha?"

"Yeah, two centuries ago, they ran out of women. Remember, Tat? Largest army on the planet and barely a tit to spare. Forty guys would fight to the death over one squaw."

"You're getting cultures mixed up."

"Point is: the bastards are already extinct, they just aren't dead yet. And that can make a creature fucking cruel and goddamn fearless. Unfortunately, their planet went to shit the same as ours. Nothing but scrap left or so I hear. So we're out here looking to colonize, but they're just looking for a thrill, killin' time until they die."

"You should show a little respect, Jeeves. We're not that far away from that, y'know. How many earthlings do you think are left? Everyone knows the planet is done for. Nothing more than busted rock orbiting a dying star."

"Way to be a downer, asshole."

"Anyway, rookie: watch your back when you're out there in the great black universe."

* * *

Aiden, otherwise known as rookie, was one lucky bastard. Always had been. Thought he always would be. Shit just fell into place for him. Stars aligned. Fate smiled. Luck was a lady. He'd come to depend on it, sure, but it wasn't all luck. He was an amazing fighter pilot. Best in the academy. Top notch in battle, never freezing or flipping his lid when there was work to be done.

His body was an embarrassingly perfect specimen of the typical golden Adonis. The shimmering curls on his head and the tight definition of evenly distributed muscle inspired the lust of passersby, regardless of their sexual inclinations. People wanted to touch him, take his photograph, catch his eye, watch him smile and generally bask in the glory of his beauty. Oddly enough, this never became annoying or tiresome for him.

In his off time, Aiden liked to do what any hot-blooded Earther loved to do: drink and fuck. On account of the military's persistent refusal to endanger women personnel by sending them into the dangerous sectors of space, most of the fucking occurred with equally desperate and horny male soldiers. Therefore, it was no surprise that after plying Aiden with a few disgusting, potent beers, the flight sergeant, Tat, made a move. Tat had a few years on Aiden, and a few pounds, but the extra muscle was all located throughout his shoulders and flanks. When Tat pushed Aiden up against the brick wall in a dark alley and seized his jacket, Aiden drunkenly reveled in the strength and combat experience of the thick man.

They didn't kiss because neither of them was truly gay, but they both craved release. Tat yanked the waistband of Aiden's pants, found the clasp, and jerked the flaps open. His meaty hands reached in and grabbed Aiden's cock, which was drink-heavy and slow to join the merriment. Tat shoved Aiden's hips hard against the wall and dropped to his knees. In an instant, his hot mouth gobbled up Aiden's cock: head and shaft, all the way down to his sack.

"Nnnnn, yeah," Aiden purred. His dick stirred inside Tat's insistent mouth. Tat dug his hands into Aiden's hips and slammed him harder against the wall. Since Aiden liked it rough, the brutal shove sent another surge to the head of his prick. He bumped his groin roughly against Tat's lips. The wet heat ate him up.

Tat rolled his tongue over the satin-wrapped crown, pushing back the foreskin and curling against the hyper-sensitive tip. Aiden bucked his hips before he was shoved back against the wall. Teeth scraped abrasively over his hard length, driving frissons through his entire body. He arched off the wall, jamming his cock into Tat's mouth.

Tat slammed him back.

One thing Aiden liked about Tat: the man wasn't too concerned about keeping teeth out of the equation, and Aiden liked that additional brutality. So when he thrust even harder, Tat scraped his teeth against the underside of his swelling dick.

Tat grabbed the base of Aiden's cock and squeezed it so hard it might pop.

"Fuck!" he said, jerking.

Tat eased up and worked his hand up and down over the shaft that didn't fit easily into his mouth. With his tongue working the tip and his hand working the base, Tat had that business covered in a sexy, slurpy game of tug-of-war. His superior officer reached down and pulled out his own dick, stroking it to the same rhythm he played on Aiden's shaft.

Hearing a sound, Aiden looked up and saw Jeeves leaning against the wall a few paces away, his longer black hair blowing in the breeze as he enjoyed the show. He didn't say a word, and Aiden didn't know if Tat even knew he was there. Jeeves, whipcord slender, reached into his pants and pulled out a cock with surprising girth to make up for its lack of length. He squeezed the head of his stumpy dick, pinching the tip. He wet his finger in his mouth and rubbed the fingertip over the sensitive cleft on his prick. Bucking his hips, Jeeves bit his lower lip and suppressed a groan.

Knowing that Jeeves watched while playing with himself made the scene hotter, and Aiden's body rolled with wicked pleasure.

Tat removed his hands from Aiden so he could play with his swelling cock and finger his ass at the same time. Aiden took advantage of the new freedom by thrusting deeper into Tat's mouth, jamming his cock all the way against the back of the man's throat.

"Ah, yeah," he grunted. He screwed his eyes shut and enjoyed the fantastic sensations of wet, syrupy juice sliding over his dick. He pushed fully into the waiting mouth, working all the way up to the hilt, until he bumped the back of Tat's throat.

Tat groaned and the sound vibrated down Aiden's prick, all the way to his balls. He threw back his head and moaned. When he withdrew, Tat's spit met the air and chilled his cock, so Aiden eagerly punched his dick back into the boiling heat of the man's mouth.

Grunting, Tat worked more furiously at his own dick. From the corner of his eye, Aiden could see Jeeves madly fisting his dick, poking at the tip and pumping the air with quick, frantic jolts. He bit his lip and tipped back his head as his thick milk oozed from his prick.

Panting, Aiden rocked back and forth, stuffing Tat's face with as much of his eager meat as he could. He rolled his head back and forth on the brick wall, feeling the cold, unforgiving face of it as the most delicious shivers clenched his abdomen. He scrunched his eyes shut and imagined his cock as a huge, massive blue rod reaching all the way down inside Tat, filling his mouth, his throat, and touching the inside of his stomach. The fantasy left him shouting, shuddering, and fucking Tat's face with abandon.

He looked down and saw Tat's hand working behind him as he plunged his finger into his own ass over and over, faster than Aiden could fuck him. Aiden's grip slipped in the man's sweaty hair, so he clenched the back of Tat's skull with an unrelenting determination.

Aiden rolled his hips and crammed as much of his cock as possible into the man's face, over and over, smacking his balls against Tat's wet chin, listening to the sloppy sounds and the panting, desperate sound of their breath.

Tat's throat convulsed over the tip of his dick, clenching it as he gagged.

"Oh, fuck, yeah," Aiden grunted, then he threw back his head. Blood roared between his ears and bellowed as he dumped his hot load deep inside Tat's throat. Shuddering, he embraced the brick wall and tried not to fall over.

Tat pumped his hand over his pulsing dick and thrust his finger into his eager ass, suckled Aiden's shuddering cock and drank his cum. While Aiden panted for air, Tat moaned and shot off, splashing his spunk over the ground.

Grunting, they all put themselves back into their pants and walked panting back to the barracks.

Morning brought artificial light and new dispatches. Aiden stretched, rubbed his morning wood, and thought about how wonderful it was to have such discrete, skilled friends at his sexual disposal. They had a good thing here, and Aiden was especially cheerful after the satisfying sex and the news that he'd lead his own exploratory squad further into the uncharted sector. Was he a lucky bastard or what?

When his station came across a pale purple ship with odd tentacle protrusions and no visible thrusters, he thought:

no big deal

. All sorts of debris floated around space. Sure, some of it was even sentient and hostile, but so what? He couldn't expect everyone to play nice, and this ship certainly wasn't. An all-out battle ensued. When Aiden's fighter pod blew its last engine and fired its last errant missile and the shuttle ejected, he thought, maybe, this wasn't so lucky.

He got to thinking about the stories and thought maybe he didn't want to survive a battle with the odd, plump war ship. Conflicting impulse, to say the least. He wanted to live, of course, who doesn't? But he sure didn't want to get caught alive. The brilliant deep purple of the warship's exterior reflected like a bright jungle beetle. It spotted his little skiff of a ship trying to escape. Guns rotated and blasting ensued, knocking pieces off the hull that drifted through space like dandelion fluff on the wind. He was going to die. At least he didn't have to worry about being captured by the boogeyman. The light, as it flared the last bit of thought from his consciousness, was blue.