Unlike most of my stories, which stand alone even though they're interconnected, you should definitely read the prior story (7a: Promotion) first. Trust me. It's worth it.
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"I'm telling you, I have to get up to the bridge..." It came out as a wheezing bleat. "Once the buttfuckers drop out of lightspace, they're going to want to get back into it as soon as possible."
Wrae Juno shuddered, her whole body alive with the extended orgasm Ferdie was giving her as a dual result of his nice penis and the half-gram of Haze she'd snorted just before they'd started. She made her eyes open, then glared up at his reflection in the viewport window. "I already told you, you fucking asshole," she hissed, her voice surging and receding with the pumping strain of his body rutting her, "you're not going anywhere until you cum in me."
"Er..." He fucked dutifully on, his hands clenched on her naked hips.
"Hear me, motherfucker?" Juno was merely a petty officer, a legal clerk, and there was almost nobody aboard this circuit ship she could possibly talk to in that way; it was, like most Fleet circuit ships, clogged with officers. But Ferdie wasn't Fleet. "Keep going!" Ferdie was a civilian, contracted to be the sole living being on a grubby ship otherwise crewed entirely by those queer little robots that some prankish design engineer had manufactured to look exactly like a human with his hands on a lover's hips.
Exactly like Ferdie was now, in fact, driving into her with quick, economical strokes that she could feel along every trembling wet millimeter of her pussy, so thick was this kid's cock. She had no idea whether he was fucking any of the other passengers, and right then? She didn't give a shit. "Come on," she grunted, every muscle in her body straining, pushing back against his sturdily thrusting body.
Her hands felt the coldness of the viewport, its stars blurring as the ship hurtled through space. He'd come to find her an hour before, as she churned through another workout in the gym, telling her they were approaching her stop. "They're at factor .97," he'd explained, "but they've agreed to drop out and pick you up. You must be important." Juno had taken her receipt calmly, ignoring the murmurs from the officers: .97 was
fast,
and it meant her captain was a hard driver. Not the kind of person who'd order a halt to pick up a mere stray legal clerk.
But Pixy Pfeiffer was not just any captain, and Wrae Juno was not just any legal clerk.
Besides, there was an engineer aboard that was also making the stop. She'd risen gracefully, followed Ferdie out of the gym, and propositioned him shamelessly and sweatily, and despite his very strict orders to the contrary he'd taken her to his grotty little room aft. "What the fuck do you do all day?" she'd asked him, glancing curiously around. "You're in space every minute of every day and night, with robots as your only permanent companions. What do you do?"
"I knit and masturbate. And drink," he'd shrugged, and that had been the extent of their small talk before she'd stepped up to him, activated his staytab, and devoured the dick she'd surmised a few days ago had to be massive. He'd tasted more than slightly funky, like a guy who spent his entire life sitting down, but then she herself was still streaming with sweat from the gym such that, when she pushed his face down to her dripping pussy, she surprised a slight grimace from him.
So she smacked him.
"Get your tongue out and put it to work," she'd seethed, and he'd complied with a speed that told her he wanted her to be the one wearing the pants here, even if they were both naked. So she took over, her need intensifying step by step by step until she finally propped herself against his big window, the full panorama of the cosmos out in front of her, and spread her feet to invite him inside her.
Now he pumped hard, each nerve ending in the drooly tunnel of her cunt sizzling with the passage of his veiny dick, his big balls lurching against her sweaty skin. Her mind thrilled to the thought of the bruises his fingers were leaving on the tight flesh of her hips, her ass, and then the whole circuit ship shuddered as the robots dropped it out. "I really need to go..." he wailed.
She answered with a snakelike twist of her neck, her face set in a brutal sneer. "You really need to fuck me," she declared, her mind torn between the need to stay where she was, bent over, or to straighten and whirl with a spin-kick to his mouth. She tightened her pussy-walls, letting him feel her power, and smiled to herself as he strained to fuck her harder.
She blinked as she spotted her destination at last: Pixy's
Tirving,
hanging among the stars, a ship unlike any she'd ever heard of. Already, she could see insect-looking fighters surging from the nose, orbiting for security. The whole vessel was a vast hollow tube, a tunnel in space, its rims bulging with living space while the smooth hull between bristled with torpedo tubes, the whole thing swelling toward the forward end into the great batteries that would support the Army's landings.
The ship looked like a penis.
The robots brought the circuit ship slowly up behind, to the gaping ring of the stern, showing a shadowed interior studded with shuttles and transports of every description. A Tygon Interceptor drifted lazily up beside the circuit ship, its pilot looking curiously over at Ferdie's window.
"Cum inside me, bastard," she husked over her shoulder. "Do it. Send it straight into my hole. Then take this ship and send it straight into
that
hole," she commanded, cackling as she jerked her head toward the stark ring at the back of the waiting
Tirving
, and in the reflection from the port she saw Ferdie's eyes widen. "Cum. Now."
"Goddamn!" he raved, his form falling apart as his legs slapped loudly against hers, drilling her heavily until, with a pounding force that overcame her trembling arms and crushed her against the cold, hard window, he drove deep and then unloaded, bellowing harshly as the circuit ship's intertube crackled.
Captain Ferdie to the bridge
, it buzzed.
Only Juno knew that Captain Ferdie was in no shape to do any part of the ship's business. He was too busy gibbering and sweating above her smoothly twisting back, riding out the last waves of his orgasm while his cock twitched mindlessly inside her, shooting his semen deep into her body, answering a call far, far older and more elemental than anything the robots up above could understand.
She yelped sharply, biting her own lip as she came along with him, the white sizzle of her orgasm washing up from her cunt and then right back down from her brain. He was pulsing inside her, deep eager jets of sperm, pump after pump after pump, both of them in bliss as they took in their reflections in the viewport.
"Jesus H Buddha," she raved, panting. "That was the shit. Thanks, dude!"
"Fuck!" He was scrambling to summon his clothes, wiping off his dick with an old-fashioned towel. "I'm late!" A sharp knock sounded on his hatchway:
You in there? We need to report aboard!
It was that engineer, Juno reflected as she mopped at her pussy. Lieutenant Perfaxon? Was that his name?
"Um." Ferdie blinked desperately. "I'm sorry. I had diarrhea. Get your stuff and assemble at the docking hatch, with that Juno girl." She tittered at him, stepping back into her boots.
"That little bitch is impossible to find," groused the voice on the far side of the door.
