Dogstar Days

This is a short foray into a new genre.

Please let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks to Warrior_Wolf for the edits.

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DOGSTAR DAYS

The crescent haze grew steadily brighter, and Dalyar squinted as the edge of the orb cleared the planet's edge and flooded the flight deck with an orange ochre wash. Even with the solar shields, the glare was a little too raw for his tired eyes. He turned away in search of something to take his mind off the pounding in his head.

It was always fun messing around with Jenka, but the mornings after ... well, that was another story. He rubbed the fine scales on his temple as he took two capsules from the medi-dispenser and threw them down his throat. They tasted foul, but in a few minutes had done their job and he began to feel more alive than dead. He assumed Jenka was still sleeping off last night's activities in her bunk. He grinned. She'd wake feeling worse than him if the amount of K'jap she'd consumed was anything to go by.

He looked back through the starboard viewport at the growing shape of Canus Major. It was a long time since he'd been to the twin-star Sirius system, but a long time was still not long enough. Fuck, he hated Sirius. Heat, dust and stench. It was the worst of the Cooperative's molybdenum industrial complexes. Yeah he got that the mineral was important, but why did the viable seams always have to be found in such god-awful places!

He'd been kept in orbit now for two cycles. Small-time freighters would always be a lower priority than the large mineral transports, but this was ridiculous. He opened a coms channel and tried again -- unsuccessfully -- to negotiate an advanced path in the docking queue. Fuck. This was supposed to be a side trip on his way across to Centauri. Instead it looked as though the little money spinner was going to seriously derail his major venture if he didn't get a down path in the next half-cycle.

Sensuous hands reached around and stroked is chest. Jenka chuckled as he started. He'd been so absorbed in his depressing reverie that he hadn't even heard her. She wound her tail around his thigh and drifted the tip provocatively toward his groin.

"Good morning, Dal."

The huskiness in her whisper never failed to arouse him. He turned in her arms and looked down at her, grinning, before reaching around her waist and holding her close. He could feel himself stiffen as he admired her dishevelled, naked form.

Jenka was a conundrum. She was from a good family. Her parents were substantial shareholders in the Cooperative, among other ventures. She was beautiful, intelligent and as hot as the Dog Star itself. Fiercely independent, she had bucked convention and a comfortable lifestyle to kick around the systems at the ass-end of the Federation with him, a lowly freighter pilot. Sure, the crate was his, but other than that he had nothing else to his name in the worlds and he had absolutely no idea why she had chosen to skive off with him.

Jenka's green eyes twinkled up at him, disgustingly clear and bright considering last night's activities. The fine scale on her ivory features had a soft, pearlescent translucency which, in the right light, had a faint emerald tint which complimented her large eyes and her forest mane of rich, dark green hair. She was supple, lithe and oozed sexuality with every step.

She chuckled and reached down between them into the top of his pants.

"Awake early aren't we?"

She stroked his stiffening member and he had a little trouble answering.

"Com alarm woke me. Thought we had a down path."

"Oh, do we?"

Her excitement momentarily distracted her from her other activity.

"No, it was your mother."

She looked startled and glanced quickly at the vid screen.

"An hour ago!"

He laughed at the nervousness on her face at the prospect of being caught naked and fondling her pilot by her straight-laced parent. She grinned back.

"Tease. Now, about that docking permit. Do we have it?"

"Some time in the next half turn. So they say, anyway."

They looked down for a moment at the dusty red planet.

"Short days here as I recall. A half turn is, what, around five hours?"

"Yeah, give or take."

"Well, I prefer take," Jenka said impishly. "If we've got time to kill, I've got a few ideas about how to pass the time."

Jenka drifted her tail about to the small of his back and nudged him softly toward her.

Dal laughed. She was insatiable. Playful, moods like lightning , a generous spirit and a sexual hunger that bordered on predatory, Jenka was an amazing woman. There were storms -- and they could be savage -- but they always passed quickly and were soon forgotten in the shared passion of making up. He wondered why he was so lucky.

"Hey, stop thinking, the bunk's this way. Unless you want me right here? That'd be a show for the Portmaster if he calls back early!"

She looked as though she was considering that for a moment before she changed her mind as quickly as the swirl of the dust storms on the planet below and grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the door of the flight deck.

They spent the next two hours writhing energetically, entwined together. Her energy seemed boundless, undimmed by the explosions of ecstasy which periodically shook her lithe frame as, open mouthed, she screamed his name to the stars. Finally she lay back with a contented sigh and he propped himself on one elbow. He gently teased the matted strands of sweat-damp hair from around her face and planted a gentle kiss on her brow, the tip of her nose and her lips.

"Sense, spirit and soul, Jenka."

She smiled back at him softly.

"It's a bit late for polite formalities, don't you think, Dal?"

He grinned.

"'Show respect' my Ma always said. 'Respecting others is respecting yourself'. I still remember her teaching me 'respect' with the flat of the griddle flip too."

Her answering laugh was cut short by the beep of the com alarm. Dal grabbed a uniform shirt from the rack and pulled it over his head as he dashed for the console. He sat down in the chair at the comms station and spun it to face the vid screen as he flicked the link into life.

"Freighter, ah,

Prdenipas

, this is the Portmaster. You're cleared to dock. Follow this flight path to bay E72. I'm up-linking it now for you. Don't deviate, the dust's bad today. Questions? No? Good. Transmission ends."

"Too bad if I did have any," muttered Dal.

"Too bad the comm link's cam only shows above your chest," chuckled Jenka as she ambled in wrapped in a sheer robe which, while it technically covered her, left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

"Hah. Good think you weren't a few seconds earlier either young lady."

"Oh, I waited. I noticed the Portmaster couldn't pronounce the name of this crate either."

"Rubbish, the '

Pas

is known throughout the Orion Alliance."

"Yes, which is why we were given such priority clearance," she smirked.

Dal scowled. He was proud of his ship and didn't take criticism of her lightly. Not even from Jenka.

"Oh, come on Dal. If you think it means something in an ancient Terran language that's fine, but for goodness sake change the registration to something recognizable -- and pronounceable -- in Galactic Standard!"

"It means 'hound of the wind' as you very well know."

"As I very well don't! That's what that old bastard you bought this file of scrap metal from on Corona told you. For gods' sake Dal, it was part of his sales pitch and you bought it like a new-badged shuttle pilot."

"Hey, I was a new-badged shuttle pilot!"

"That's my point, dumb-ass."

"Why you ..."

Jenka skipped playfully out of reach. Dal half-heartedly chased her around the deck before succumbing to her peals of laughter. He had to admit it was difficult to maintain the illusion of righteous anger without any pants. He'd really only done it to admire the sight of her gorgeous curves as the robe flowed and billowed as she ran. Hell, she was stunning. He glanced down and shrugged before meeting her eyes again. He was addicted to that merry green twinkle.

"It's hard to be angry with you."

"Looks to me like it's just hard," she gurgled, smothering another laugh.

A quarter hour later Dal was seated back at the comms station with Jenka on his lap. He watched her while she watched the swirls of the dust-laden atmosphere as the craft followed its digital wire on auto-pilot down to the dock complex invisible below.

"Look, the little dust motes are dancing," she sighed.

To be honest he couldn't care less what they were doing. His every sensation was focussed on the woman on top of him. He marvelled at her ability to multi-task. There was no doubt that she was entranced by the atmospheric artistry outside the viewport but to say that was by no means her sole focus. She rotated her hips slowly and rhythmically as she sat astride him. He held her firmly to help with balance but otherwise let her drive. Like his craft, he'd been put on auto-pilot. He was amused by the thought. The reality was that Jenka knew him better than he did himself. His helping at this point would probably only spoil things for both of them. She would guide them both expertly to mutual pleasure with a skill and intimacy that never ceased to amaze him.

Her movement shifted the fabric of the robe shrouded around them and one of her breasts peeked its firm nipple through the briefly parted gap. Dal rolled it gently yet firmly between his fingers. A shudder and a small moan rewarded him before his hand was batted away.

"Stop it, Dal. I'm trying to watch and you're distracting me. I've never actually landed through a dust storm before and it's enchanting."

"

I'm

distracting!?" he said incredulously.

She looked down at him briefly before turning back to the view port.

"Yes, my pilot, you are. So unless you wish to have a spectacularly uninspiring 'landing' experience, I suggest you let me fly this one."

"Good thing it's my ship," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that."

The pelvic squeeze around his shaft put paid to any further thought of banter and he surrendered himself to the delight of her ministrations. He closed his eyes and put his hands behind her and stroked the small of her back along the spine. He played them along the firm, supple contours of her hips and thighs. He caressed her ass as she danced atop him until he felt that there was no way in which the galaxy itself could contain the storm of desire that was threatening to engulf him.

"Oh, look. We're breaking through! Oh, that's beautiful. That's ... that's ... ooohhh, Dal."

He felt the shudders of her orgasm ripple through her, beginning at the very centre of her being where she held him within herself. With a grateful groan he let go himself, surrendering to blazing bliss as he erupted inside her. He'd been holding himself under iron control for the last few minutes, waiting for this moment. Just when he thought he couldn't hold on any longer, just when the exquisite agony of frustrated release was almost too much to bear -- gods this woman was wonderful. He knew that she knew exactly where both of them were and had kept him deliberately at the precipice for those few extra impossible moments in order to tip him headlong into a wash of deeper ecstasy. They'd both teetered on the summit of their mutual mountain of desire and the subsequent free fall was breathtakingly, blindingly glorious.

Dal realised he'd lost a few moments when he opened his eyes to Jenka's gentle touch on his cheek.

"We've landed, Dal. Better find some clothes."

She smiled at him with a soft, lambent glow in her eyes. He watched for a moment longer as the latent flames of desire sputtered into glowing embers of warm satisfaction in their depths.

"You're right. I've got a package to deliver."

Jenka erupted in laughter.

"Oh, Dal. You just did!"

He smacked her ass playfully before lifting her off him.

"That's enough you hussy. I think you've dehydrated me enough for today. Come on, we'd better have a quick hydro-spray and get some gear on before Customs arrives."

She padded out of the flight deck casting a quick, impish glance back at him just before she disappeared through the archway.

Dal looked out of the view port and sighed. Jenka was like a drug. She consumed him. He thought of the package waiting in the concealed space below the deck. Was this worth it? What was he getting himself into? Was this the price of love?

The swirling red dust playfully mocked him, but provided no answers.