Out in the Blac

This is a book-length work, so not every chapter will involve sex. If you're just looking for a quick wank, this probably isn't your story.

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I should have deleted the recording. I knew that. I told myself that even as I watched the pair talk shop. I reminded myself that I was intruding on something private when they started kissing. That I was shamed enough by their talk of the cameras to speed through the coupling that followed, but not enough to stop watching and erase the entire file, surfaced things about myself I'd rather not know. At first I excused my observation as keeping tabs on the visitors to my ship; after all, I had gone through the recordings of the governor and his mistress as well. The two of them had left the ship directly after exiting my quarters, but I tracked their progress to be sure they didn't make any side excursions along the way. As much as I wanted to convince myself I was simply keeping tabs on Rusty's guest, I knew better. Then again, I didn't force her to strip down and fuck my engineer.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. After two more exhales, I was finally ready to admit that I was in the wrong and my anger at the visiting engineer was misplaced. This small personal triumph was rewarded by granting myself another look at the image paused on my screen. The woman - Kelly Buchanan of Omaha, Nebraska, according to her ID file - was lying on her side, grinning at Rusty. The female body didn't really do it for me, but I could still admit that she was quite attractive, if nothing like the polished beauties I was often surrounded with in my job. She wasn't what held my gaze, though. No, my attention was drawn to the naked body of one Carter Rust, former mercenary and current engineer of the

Marzipan Dream

.

Hating myself even as I reached to restart the playback, I ran my eyes over Rusty. The man had no shame, lying there on his back with his hands behind his head. He knew where the cameras were, he'd lived with them for half a cycle already, and he simply did not care. Even relaxed as it was while he chatted with his lover, Rusty's body was an impressive landscape of muscles. The ridges of his abs, the swell of his biceps, the bulk of quadriceps - each part of him was a testament to his long hours in the gym. Despite the dark hair on his torso and limbs, the marks on his pale skin were plainly visible and told another story. There was an old gunshot wound under his collarbone and a pair of parallel stripes of scar tissue from where he had been stabbed under his ribs. Merc tattoos marched in a line down the inside of his left arm, the glyphs acting as a resumé of successful operations for those who knew how to read them. I was not familiar with the language, but the number present told me enough. Considering how prolific he had been, it was surprising he wasn't more scarred.

The sound of my name caught my attention and I realized I'd been watching without listening to their conversation. I rewound the vid and let myself get distracted once more, this time by watching Rusty's face as he talked. He wasn't all that expressive, but he gave away more than a casual observer might notice. Since I had already passed into creepily obsessed, I allowed my eyes to go where they had wanted to all along. The hair that spread evenly over my engineer's chest thinned as it traveled down his abdomen, tapering to the proverbial treasure trail under his navel. My mouth was dry as I followed it south to where his flaccid penis lay curled over his balls. He kept the hair around his groin trimmed, allowing it to fit with the rest of his appearance without being overrun. This little bit of grooming was so at odds with everything else I thought I knew about the man that I simply stared for a time, trying to reconcile the reality with my expectations.

And again, I heard my name and discovered I'd forgotten to listen. Rewinding another time, I closed my eyes immediately after beginning playback. The first bit I knew, having asked about Rusty's former job when he came to work for me. The policy of his was something I'd guessed at; Carter Rust's reputation was widely known. In fact, from what I'd heard about his appetites, it had surprised me that he had spent so little time off the ship back on Earth. He never got involved with those he flew with - a position more people would be expected to take, considering the uncomfortable situations that could result when exes were stuck together in a tin can surrounded by vacuum. It only made sense that he would take every available opportunity to blow off steam. This time sticking close to the

Marzi

had clearly paid off, as evidenced by what I was watching.

The woman had a great laugh, I had to admit. Just hearing it brought a smile to my face. Then Rusty called me beautiful and I forgot to breathe. That a lot of people wanted to get close to me was something I knew already, though I didn't believe my physical appearance had as much to do with it as Ms. Buchanan thought. No, people wanted me for what they could get out of me, whether that be access to those higher up the fame chain or favorable reporting or simply bragging rights because I was a commodity. In my industry, we all used each other in a sort of parasitic cycle and those who couldn't accept that didn't last long. Not to say I wasn't attractive; I knew I had won the genetic lottery and a lot of resources had gone into improving my natural assets. Still, hearing Rusty compliment my looks thrilled me.

Perhaps if I had still been watching, allowing myself to take in his facial expression and body language, I would have believed Rusty when he denied being interested in me. There was a tightness in his tone of voice, though, that would have been easy to miss if I weren't so focused on listening to him talk. That stress, the way he clipped his words, told me without a doubt that he was lying. Then again, perhaps that was just wishful thinking on my part. As I mulled that over, a noise caught my attention. My eyes flew open and I saw that it was exactly what it had sounded like: Kelly Buchanan was giving my engineer head. Fuck.

Sighing, I lifted my hand toward the controls, instructing myself to turn the vid off and delete the damn thing. There was nothing to be gained by torturing myself further, either by watching them together or listening to more of their conversation. This was surely not the first time Rusty had been interested in a crewmate; as far as I knew, he had never broken his rule before, and there was no reason to expect him to do so this time, either. Especially if he believed his own denial.

Dark eyes arrested my progress and my hand hung in midair, motionless, as I tried to process what I was seeing on the screen. I watched, frozen, as those eyes stared directly at the camera. Surely it was intentional. While the cameras were unobtrusive, they were far from hidden. And he knew! I knew he knew where they were. I still could have excused it as chance, as his gaze happening to be directed at the camera even while he wasn't focused on the input from his eyes, if he had not done the thing with his hand. Those eyes burned into me as Rusty lifted a hand to his chest and dragged it down his torso, moving slowly enough to allow each finger to caress every ridge, dip into every valley. Fuck yes it was intentional.

My heart thudded against my ribs. I shifted in my seat to alleviate some of the discomfort in my pants. Without conscious thought, I put my hands in my lap, allowing my right thumb to circle the tip of my cock. Rusty bit his lip and something like a whimper escaped me. With my focus on his face, I could just see the motion of his arm out of the corner of my eye. If I didn't stop to pay attention to the rest of the scene, I could imagine he was stroking himself, daring me to join him. I went with it, embracing the fantasy, and freed my erection. Swiping my thumb across the head, I spread the gathered fluid down my shaft as I matched the pace of Rusty's arm.

"Fuck yes," I whispered, watching as his breathing sped up. His lips parted and the tip of his tongue swept across the bottom one. I moaned softly. I was sure I'd have complicated feelings about this later, but right then it felt too good to stop. I was getting close, so close.

"Cap, I - oh shit, sorry." I froze, slack-jawed; the intrusion was so unexpected that it took a moment to register that the words were coming from the doorway rather than the screen in front of me. Knowing it was too late, I slapped at the display with one hand, trying to cover myself with the other.

"Hang on." His voice was dangerously quiet. I had finally gotten the vid paused, but there was no point attempting to hide it. "You - that's - what the FUCK?" Rusty shouted the last word and I flinched.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, knowing it was inadequate but unsure how else to respond.

"Sorry?" he asked. "I catch you jerking your dick to a moment that was obviously not meant for you - "

"Rusty," I said pleadingly.

"No. Just - no." He leaned across me and swiped his hand across my display. My cock had gone soft in my shock, but his proximity was waking it up again, reminding me it was still mostly exposed. I closed my eyes and drew a shuddering breath through my nose, inhaling the particular scent that was Rusty, all hot metal and engine grease and soap. "Here," he said. I forced my eyes open and looked where he was pointing.

"The cargo hold?" I squinted at the feed Rusty had selected, trying to read the labels on the stacked crates to see what he was showing me.

"Go here. Finish what you started." He tilted his head down toward my lap. Oh. "We'll see how you like someone spying on your private moments." He straightened, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the display. A muscle jumped in his cheek.

"I - " Words failed me. A confused jumble of emotions twisted me up inside. Was this foreplay or revenge? Both? Neither? The thought of masturbating in a public area of the ship made me anxious as hell. I was also incredibly turned on. Shaking my head, I stood and shoved my junk back into my pants before tugging them closed over my hips. I glanced at Rusty. He wouldn't look at me; as I watched, an unreadable expression crossed his face before he schooled it back to anger. I opened my mouth, but still could find nothing to say. Snapping it shut, I strode from the room.

Of course every single member of the crew wanted to talk to me. I exchanged greetings a dozen times on my way to the assigned location, sure they could all see the guilt on my face, positive my half-hard cock was obvious even through the thick material of my jumpsuit. Nerves fluttered in my belly, growing stronger the closer I got to the assigned location. As hot as the idea of him watching me was, I began to have serious doubts about my ability to perform. My palms were clammy and my legs shook when I stepped off the ladder into the cargo hold. It was becoming a real possibility that the only show I would give the engineer was regurgitation of my breakfast.

We didn't actually haul a lot of stuff, so the crates that were in the hold weren't jammed close together, leaving narrow paths that allowed us to access everything and keep the load balanced. I turned a corner and realized I was in the alcove Rusty had shown me. Turning around, I saw the camera installed above the airlock door. The only way to access this location from inside the ship was the winding route I had taken. I relaxed a bit knowing it was unlikely anyone would be able to approach undetected, that I would only be observed by my audience of one.

It wasn't the most comfortable location, but then my comfort wasn't the goal here. Settling as best I could with my back to the stack of crates that made up the bottom of the U-shaped space, I closed my eyes and dropped my head back. Focusing on my breathing, I worked to clear my mind of everything but Rusty sitting in my office, watching me. The thought that he might not be there flitted through my mind and I banished it. Believing he was there, that he had decided on this punishment because he wanted to see me as I had seen him, was the only way I was going to be able to make this work.

Remembering the way he had drawn my eyes with his hand, I tried to do the same. My palm slid across my shirt. With a slight tug, I freed the bottom and slid my fingers under the cloth, pushing it up and displaying a hint of skin to my audience. The fingers of my other hand made their way along my thigh, stroking the rough fabric of my jumpsuit as they approached their goal. I pictured the way the muscles in Rusty's legs had flexed as his climax was approaching, how he had bitten his lip and stared into me with his eyes half-closed, drunk with pleasure. My cock responded, pushing against my pants. I ran my fingers along the straining bulge, the light touch barely noticeable through the heavy clothing. I wanted Rusty's hands itching to touch me, to rip away the concealing clothing.

My hand went to my belt and I slowly opened my eyes, looking up at the camera lens, hoping he felt the connection I did. Pants and shorts shoved out of the way, I displayed myself for the engineer, needing him to see me, to know what he did to me. I stroked my entire length slowly, my hungry gaze seeking his through the cables and electronics.

I want you

, I thought at him. My lip was swollen from where I bit it, fighting to keep from moaning his name.

Are you there with me?

One hitching breath filled my lungs, then another which I released with a groan as my orgasm hit. I allowed myself a few moments to catch my breath before tucking myself away and straightening my clothes. I didn't bother cleaning up before returning to my office, trusting the nanites to do their job.

Only years of training and practice allowed me to radiate calm competence as I strolled back through the ship. Inside, I was a quivering mess of embarrassment and excitement and the remains of the hormone dump in the cargo hold. Certain parts were especially sensitive post-orgasm and I could feel the soft fabric of my undershorts rubbing my skin as I walked, providing enough stimulation to keep me from going completely soft. It was distracting, making the inevitable interactions with my crew more difficult. I counted myself lucky I didn't run into my XO.

Remembering to lock the door behind myself, I fell into the chair at my console and finally dropped the captain mask. I wiped a shaking hand over my face and told myself I wasn't disappointed to find the room empty. Rusty had probably left right after I did, and all that imagining his eyes on me was just that - imagination. Thinking of him watching me had added a certain thrill, no doubt, as had the semi-public location he had chosen, but there was no reason to believe it was more than a fantasy.

Sighing, I forced myself to sit up and get back to work. First item of business: delete that fucking file as I should have done in the first place. I stretched a hand to my display and stopped, shocked to see a small splotch of milky liquid on the screen. The screen that was currently displaying a vacant alcove in the cargo bay. I swiped my finger through it and rubbed the substance between my index finger and thumb. Not only had he been watching, Rusty had been playing along. That was interesting. His nanites finished their work as I watched, erasing the last of the evidence. Only then did I notice the red tag labeling the feed from the alcove as secure. I felt a wave of gratitude sweep through me; I'd been so concerned with being physically interrupted that I hadn't yet considered the possibility of my little show being observed on other displays. Rusty had made sure I didn't have to. The man was a treasure and I vowed to keep from fucking this up more than I already had.

If only I knew how to manage that.