Ensign Mary Whattakunt stood leaning against the bulkhead in the lounge portion of the Space Relations. She wore a fiery red shirt, long-sleeved, over the traditional black pants and boots. Her blonde hair was set up into tons of tiny little curls that were as playful as she was.
Another member of the crew was hitting on her. While Mary was trying to remain distant and calm, her body was responding beautifully to the attention. Her breasts were enlarged, ever so slightly, her nipples stood erect like tiny concrete buildings. The skin of Mary's chest and neck, not to mention her face, was flushed. Finally, blood was coursing through her bottom half like a river that had overflowed its banks.
Leaning over her petite and curvy frame was the ship's cook, Margo Muldren, who was as a small tower casting a deep shadow over Mary. Margo's broad, meaty forearm was resting on the bulkhead right above Mary's head Her large and aggressive body was positioned in a pose usually reserved for an alpha male.
Their faces, their lips, were hovering in close proximity to each other. It would only take a tiny effort on either of their parts for physical interaction to begin. Mary found herself battling her own will in order for that not to happen.
Margo was not wearing her usual combination of dark leather or cammies. She didn't have on a manly vest or a belt with metal studs and dull spikes on it. Her hair wasn't as ignored and simply gelled down in the way a more impatient man would style it. Today, and on an extremely rare occasion, Margo had on something more feminine. Her hair was still short, of course, but it was teased high and pretty. She had, gulp, make-up on her face, enough to soften her harsher features. In fact, Margo was dressed like an authoritative businesswoman. She sported stark black-rimmed glasses, a white blouse with perhaps too many of the top buttons left loose, and a plaid skirt that tightly gripped the broad expanse of her hips.
Margo leaned close enough to blow a caressing wind on Mary's ear. "I know it's your first day working here, girlie, but I'd like to invite you into my office. I'd like to bend you over my desk and spank you a little bit, before I put on my strap-on and fuck you like a dog."
Mary closed her eyes, feeling the skin of her face start to redden. If she could have sunk further into the wall, she would have done so by now.
"What do you think about that, girlie?" Margo teased her.
After observing that the other woman had shut her eyes, the randy cook felt brazen enough to reach out and cup one of Mary's breasts. "Would you like for me to give you some long and spicy dick-tation?"
Mary shuddered, as Margo's touch was nothing like what she'd been expecting. It wasn't rough and random like her usual touch, like the grope of most men. Instead, the caresses were alluring and tender, and so unlike Margo's usual character.
I can't take any more of this torture! Mary's mind announced to Margo, and to Cruz who was sitting nearby and evaluating their performance.
Mary opened her eyes and stared directly into Margo's. Thanks to the daring gaze in her face, no further words needed uttering, either spoken or unspoken. Margo moved in on her, trying and failing to keep a civil tact. Their lips became a riot of violent but welcome protest. Margo's hands slipped over Mary's full breasts. In retaliation, Mary placed her hands on Margo's extra large boobs, finding them intimidating and huge to her diminutive hands. It felt as if she were trying to contain two small blimps powered by milk. Further, since Margo's white blouse was already considerably revealing, Mary was able to reach past the edges and fondle Margo through her extra large, black leather bra.
Margo lifted her head and moaned. "Oh, you little hussy. You've already go me so wet!"
Clinically observing the actions of both women, Cruz jotted down several notes on his evaluation. Once he'd finished, he set his clipboard aside, stood up and clapped his hands together. "Ladies, the office manager has just buzzed Margo's office. The intercom is informing Margo that several clients are on their way. Both of you must go back to work at once."
Margo made a face brimming with disappointment. "Aw, do we have to stop?"
"For the purposes of the evaluation, yes." Cruz said, as he sat up and gave Margo his final verdict. "You did very well, Margo. You succeeded in keeping back your wild, contemptible, ways. You approached Mary with a well thought out plan of seduction. You were tender instead of brutish. This is the approach we were aiming for."
"What about my outfit?" Margo asked. "You don't think I overdid it, do you?"
The big woman took a small step from Mary and posed with her hands on her wide hips.
"Your stance is a little more defiant and manly than I'd hoped," Cruz critiqued. "But the choice of attire is good. Well, that's it for now. Next time, we'll start teaching you how to do a seductive striptease."
"I've never done one of those before." Margo said, when she casually turned to look at Mary.
The blonde tart was still very much hot to trot, as she gave the cook her best bedroom eyes.
"The exercise is over." Margo reminded her. "Stop looking at me like that or we're going to have some serious words between us."
"It's not over for me!" Mary reached out and slapped one of Margo's beefy buttocks. "I'll race you to your bunk!"
With that, Mary fled from the lounge.
Margo watched her go with rapt interest. She turned to Cruz. "Is she fucking with me? Because if she goes into my bunk, she's not coming out for a few days."
"Margo, if you have any interest in Mary other than a purely professional one, I suggest you head to your quarters right away."
Like a hound that had just gotten wind of a fox, Margo streaked out of the lounge.
Ensign Braxton was lying down on a second couch and taking everything in with a good level of fascination. "Is this how the crew always passes the time?"
Cruz shrugged. "Usually. We do have some vast stretches where there isn't much to do except stare out of a porthole at open space."
"That comes with the territory, I suppose." Braxton replied.
"Especially with a ship the size of this one." Cruz said. "We don't have room for a lot of the entertainment venues that bigger ships have access to, so we end up entertaining each other. My main concern would be if someone develops a grudge, because that would make traveling in this vessel a living hell. We try to plug any problems while they're still small holes in the dam, and not at the point where the dam eventually breaks."
The science officer stepped over to ogle the older woman. The older woman, he noticed, had picked out another in Mary's seemingly endless array of costumes. This one was a pleated micro-dress with a deep v-neck, styled in the manner of a Greek or Roman toga. It was secured around the middle by gold crisscross ties. Braxton's shapely breasts and thighs were only partially hidden under that thin veil, while her lean legs seemed to stretch out forever.
Cruz wanted to do more than just admire the sight. "I have to say that you are a magnificent specimen of a mature woman who has aged very gracefully. You turn me on, baby!"
Braxton grinned in appreciation. The action looked much more genuine, and much less strained than it had been for the last few days.
"One day, we're going to get a real smile out of you." Cruz promised.
"I'm just happy that a man is paying attention to my body, and to me in general." Braxton admitted. "You don't know how hard I worked out on the Neptune, hoping to attract a handsome man into my bed. I would always cast out my fishing lure but I would never get any bites."
"Darling, those men were imbeciles to pass you up." Cruz stated. "They had no idea what they were missing out on."
Braxton raised her leg onto the couch, which caused her tiny dress to slip further across her thigh. Once her legs were parted, it was revealed to Cruz that underneath the outfit she was wearing nothing at all. "Do you know what you've been missing out on?"
"Baby, will it be your bunk or mine?"
"Neither." Braxton replied. "I saw how you got Margo to role-play with you and Mary. I'd like to engage in some role-play myself. I am now the goddess Aphrodite. I command you to strip your clothes off and take a seat on my couch of unlimited pleasure."
Not one to refuse such a challenge, Cruz stripped, although he did not do this in a typical way. He took hold of both of Braxton's hands and brought her up to her feet. Then he caressed his own body with her fingers. Up and across his chest, and over his crotch he dragged the woman's hands, before he took his clothing off. Once nude, the science officer started the process up all over again. Every step of the way, Braxton grew hotter and hotter for him. When Cruz started touching her, meaning to caress her in that so erotic but so agonizingly slow way of his, Braxton could no longer harbor her impatience. The cougar shoved him back, causing her lover to land in a seated position on the couch. Before Cruz could do anything else, Braxton straddled his legs.
Cruz noted, "For the Greek goddess of sensuality and pleasure, you seem to have forgotten the timeless art of foreplay."
"I don't need no stinking foreplay." Braxton said, finding his stiff member.
It was pulsing and hot in her grip. Lustily, the woman gave it a few introductory handshakes. She trembled as she aimed it, as she settled her body down upon it and felt it slide, like a missile of burning love, within her body.
Her lover's hands turned into raving lunatics, rushing about without direction and exploring the lengths of her thighs and the tight swells of her ass. In their madness, those hands ascended her abdomen and sought out to quell the scorching peaks of her flesh, but only succeeded in firing them up even more.
Braxton, the newly crowned deity, ground her hips into the mortal that sought to subdue her, that sought to bring a goddess down to the mundane level of men. Instead, she sought to lift him into the heavens, to the arena of the ancient gods of love and poetry. Only when she felt him pushing her body aside and bringing his body over hers, did she figure out that what Cruz was doing was merely a ruse.
Cruz became every bit of an Adonis to her Aphrodite, as he entered her from this new position. His manly strokes were deliberate and timed, as if he sought to extract her love from within her, and to maintain it in high gear for as long as possible. He kissed her and he teased her. His hands roved about in infinitely more delicate ways, as his cock became a warm and intelligent expression of love.
Their combined expulsions masked the sound of the door being opened, as Willow Smith-slash-Stevens entered the lounge. The pretty ensign watched for a time, as the actors engaged in their lusty performance for a private audience they didn't know they had even acquired. Slowly, quietly, Willow shut the door.
Willow went back to the bridge.
Captain Washington had been staring at the empty seat reserved for the ship's navigator, which had been kept vacant ever since they'd departed the SCS Ptolemy.
He noticed the ensign stepping back in and asked, "I thought you were going to take a break?"
"I was about to, but I changed my mind." Willow took up her usual station. "I wanted to study up on my system's analyst courses in the lounge. But, uh, the room was what you would call busy, in the usual way that things get busy around here."
"Oh, really?" Washington sounded amused. "Someone is getting busy in the lounge? Who is it this time?"
"Braxton and Cruz."
Immediately, Thor spoke up. "Permission to leave the bridge, captain."
Washington turned to his combat tech. "Don't tell me you're hoping to become a part of that?"
"It's more to study Cruz's technique, captain." Thor admitted. "He's teaching me to use any and all means to pleasure a woman. This way I can compensate for my less than spectacular manhood. On top of which, yes, I have been considering getting into Braxton's pants in a very real way."