I turn then, and begin stalking away, and as I do, I glare directly at Audrey, withering her with my intense glare. Oh yeah, that little Barbie doll got my message as I see her gulp, and then I smash through the Com-Bar’s swinging doors. My palms make slapping sounds as the doors swing free and hit the opposite wall.
I am definitely not watching where I'm going as I get to the end of the short corridor and proceed to slam around the corner.
Thud...
“Ooof!” I plow right into Rousseau.
“C-Captain,” she gasps.
I am unfortunately holding her to my chest with my hands on her arms to keep us both from falling. Damn, interesting. Her hands are clutched into my flight suit at my waist and on my shoulder. Every corpulent inch of her oversized breasts are squashed into my upper rib cage, and I’m steaming, still angry . . . and now with something else.
Yes, damn it. It is definitely something else.
Chapter Three
“Rousseau.”
Oh god, it’s Captain Boa. My eyes must pop wide as I take entirely too long to realize I need to step away from him. Only, I’m caught in his gaze, actually looking at him fully in the face. His normally strict dark blue eyes are shimmering they are so intense. I’d make a good guess he's very angry, but he's trying to control it. At me? I mean hell; he's the one that nearly trampled me!
“Are you going to punch me, Private Rousseau?” Captain Boa is nearly smiling. However, it's somewhat hard to tell if it's a smile, because just his fuller bottom lip stretches upward a bit, making it appear rusty and painful.
I know I look surprised as I finally push away from him. But we’re still very close. “Of course not, sir,” I mutter.
“I could see for a moment that you wanted to.”
I blink at him, and then we both hear the low mutter of a man’s voice, “Fuck, she should get a real born man. It’s sick you know.”
I'm turning around, ready to launch a defense, before I even think. Only, Captain Boa grasps my upper arm again. His hand is broad, but his grip is gentle. “Leave it,” he orders, sounding suddenly weary of a heavy burden.
But I’m impish, truly I am. Though I can’t speak to him casually or barely even look at him, my nature is well . . . it’s mine. “Captain, this is just because I couldn't do it the sixth time in a row, isn’t it?” I exclaim. “Please, give me another chance, sir!”
The badly mannered man and his partner stumble just before reaching the turn in the tight corridor that will take them from our view. I know they heard. And I know what they thought. Time to get the heck out of here!
“But I will get that Stat-Dar to work completely, without any glitches next time,” I finish in a mumble, and then I salute, while peeking up at Captain Boa’s glittering blue eyes. Thank goodness, he allows me a hasty retreat without any more comment.
I wonder that night as I lay on my stiff cot, in the five by five cabin I call my own aboard the Eclipse . . . what Captain Boa had been angry about. I’m helpless not to think about him. Especially, lying alone in my cot at night. I think any woman who gets down to her bra and panties in bed at night can’t help but think about the men that really turn them on. Only, I never did before. Then, I daydreamed about nameless and faceless heroes. Perhaps, an actor every now and then, but mostly I just dreamed about the qualities I wanted on my faceless nighttime lover.
Now though, I have a face and an incredible body to go with it. I’ve seen Captain Boa in just his sleeveless tee shirt and he has a magnificent, can’t take your eyes away, chest. The layers of sinew across the broad expanse make mouth-watering hills and tight valleys and his biceps bulge with pronounced muscles.
The image of him, of his body, of his face, stirs me relentlessly and my sex swells making its demands known. The need curls and pulsates through my thighs and into my belly. I cannot deny it, I can only moan at the throbbing of my pussy and deeper inside where the walls hunger for attention and leak desire. Frantically, and to the shout of my yearnings, my fingers steal beneath the lace band of my panties, down between my legs. Then, I roughly jab the tender aching crease of my pussy. I'm not a gentle lover, but experienced in the loneliness of this demand as I delve my fingers between the hot sticky lips. Searching for that engorged bud I know is jutting toward my visions of Captain Boa.
I gasp. Not knowing his name, I moan, “Captain.” Then I mewl again like a porno star in heat, and pant, “Captain,” once more with long drawn out vowels of lust. My bra rasps the blood-tight tips of my nipples and I yank the offending garment down, freeing those needy points with an aroused moan. My fingers scrape my clit in circles, pressing hard, as my other fingers pinch my budded nipples and I undulate my hips as though I'm being fucked by a rough man. I can still feel Captain Boa’s tough upper rib cage against by breasts. Praying in my senseless arousal that he could feel my nipples had gone puckered at just being close to him.
My legs collapse open and my back arches as I fantasize about him touching me. My fingers are sopping wet as I rub my clitoris harder, and I reach my other fingers downward to stuff inside my vagina as though I'm being fucked hard. My vagina is burning and juicy and I get three fingers plowed inside me, then out, then plunged back inside, to my humping hips. I never used to be this sexual, but he makes me wild thinking about him.
“Oh! Oh!”
God. I spread my legs further, straight upward in a wide V. Opening myself completely, imagining him seeing me here, like a slut dripping wet and ready. What would be his favorite position to fuck my cunt? I only think that word when I get really horny, and my lust makes me slutty. I want it from behind and being a Variant, his cock would be inhumanly long and thick. I could barely take his mass inside me, because I’m so much smaller and I haven’t had sex much.
“Ah! Ah!” I bend my knees to my chest, imagining him taking me this way. Pounding into me, hard and long, then I climax in quivering bursts, as I stifle my scream. “Captain!”
I’m panting now, trying to catch my breath, but as satiated as a woman can be with her nighttime dream lover.
If only he . . .
Chapter Four
“Ry, it is midnight.” I turn my head looking down at the automated inch-high holographic image. The image is the likeness of some busty blond model, most likely long dead. The image’s voice is softly feminine with a husky quality though. “Ry, it is midnight.” It won’t stop, until I answer. “Right,” I mutter and the holo-image blinks out.
Twenty-four hundred hours, and I’m lying stretched out and naked on my bunk, trying to read Sun Tzu’s, The Art of War, with a hard cock. I tilt my head back. The images of her will not leave me. The reasons and the culprit for this lust are Rousseau, and it's provoking the hell out of me. She is just another womb-born female. Womb-born like my ex-wife and the ultimate reason we are no longer together. Not again.
I slap my hand over my cock, near angrily curling my fingers around the thickness. I can feel the heat and hard rigidness against my fingers and palm. Just my hand’s grip and the firm squeeze of my fingers, are giving me instant pleasure.
“Ah.” I breathe deeply with a tenor rumbling in my belly, while I squeeze tight and begin a slow-paced draw, up and down the solid shaft, using a firm pumping motion. I lower my gaze to watch my cock, and my hand around it, milking it tightly. The head is getting redder and the slit is puffing outward slightly.
“Christ,” I hiss lowly, gripping the shaft harder and pumping my hand a bit faster. I’ve been pussy celibate for over two years now. Ever since my disorderly divorce was complete, and I’m not certain if the celibacy is a conscious choice or not. But lately, I find myself pulled into the lure of jacking off.
“Damn.” I cuss lowly, fisting my cock even faster, as the memory of Tallie Rousseau’s breasts pushing against my chest won’t leave me alone. It was just moments of brief pressure with those two plump breasts. They are indecently big tits for the military with their large weight straining the regulation jump suits. Her ass is fat to
o, and not overweight, just sleek and plump like a woman’s should be. Watching her walk away is torture. And her hair, Jesus, it must fall to her ass when she wears it loose from the braid she normally has it in.
I'm grimacing now, deep in arousal, but fighting it, even as my hand pulls hard on my engorged cock. I push drops of pre-cum out of the slit with each upward drag, as my palm skims over the head and slit, making me suck my breath in tightly. My palm comes away with cum on it and I drag this back down the shaft, coating it, until there’s a rapid slurping sound, as I hand fuck myself.
Tallie must have Latin blood in her, because her skin is tawny and her eyes are deep brown pools. She is very shy and skittish . . . and now I know she's impish too. That's all I can say about what she did tonight. Hell, I've never had anyone stand up for me before as she did. I'm an artificially born Variant that normally goes with the territory.
“Christ,” I hiss.
I would laugh, but I can’t stop groaning. I’m hot just thinking about her. I beat my meat harder, taking my fingers all the way to the broad head, and down again to my balls, big, heavy, and tight. Christ. I’m trying to imagine Tallie naked. I can't help it, and what I’m picturing is making my mouth dry.
I like to take my woman rough. It is a private power attitude, because I’m a Variant. I want the control, all the control, and I demand it. I’d like Tallie to feel helpless, and I imagine her that way. She'd be perfect for it, and I would bend her over something low, spread her cunt open wide and fuck her hard and fast from behind. The power position. The submissive position for her.
“Ah hh,”
My hand is like a piston on my bucking cock as I try to keep my groans contained. However, I cannot help imagining taking Tallie’s ass. I've always wanted to take a woman up the ass. Hell, there are a hundred things I’ve want to do with a woman that I've not done yet.
“God!” I grunt hard as I ejaculate, and I keep pumping each blissful twinge out of myself.
I can’t ever have her. I will never again take a womb-born woman. I’m not even sure if I will take another woman at all. But Tallie shakes me up, and for that reason alone I will never put her through the harm of being associated with a Variant man.
Damn. If only . . .
“You are taking her, Captain Boa,” Commander Grady says.
I’m standing at rigid attention staring at Commander Grady. “I cannot take her, sir. It would be suicide.” The inflection in my voice embarrasses me with emphasis in front of my commander.
“Captain Boa, are you belaying a direct order?” Commander Grady asks sharply.
I want to tear the room apart. “Sir, she is a reservist. She’s never been in combat. She doesn’t know a thing about . . .”
“Captain!” Grady interrupts me curtly. And I would have said, “War.” “Then you’re the one to keep her alive.” Grady pauses. “Look, Ry, in the air or on the ground, you are the best.” he says relaxing a little. I understand that we are nearly friends, as close as I’ve ever gotten to one actually. “And, Private Rousseau, unfortunately has the distinction of being the only person alive out here who can use the MAXI program and dump it into another system to search and destroy. If we didn’t have her, we’d be in shit. Especially now that we’ve figured out the aliens have the capability to tap our communications. You know what this means, Ry. How many lives are being lost because of it?”
Hell yes, I know. “Yes, sir,” I answer grimly. “Is she volunteering or being commandeered, sir?”
“I’ll give her a chance to volunteer and for you to convince her,” Grady replies solemnly. “Or you know what will happen.”
Yes, I know. They’ll plant a bug in her skull that will give her more pain than a human being can live with, if she doesn’t obey. Resolutely, I have to force myself not to touch the place in my head where mine had been. Ten years and I’ll never forget it. They used them on all Variants, before they set us free. Wouldn’t the people of Earth be surprised to find out their government never destroyed the technology, and still used it?
“Yes, sir.” My answer is crisp; there is nothing else I can do.
Ten minutes later, I’m searching for Rousseau, but I don’t like it one bit. A dozen thoughts are racing through my mind, then discarded, as I try to think of a way to keep her out of this. Grimly, after time, I let myself believe the only reason I care is because her inexperience is likely to get me killed. So by the time I find her quarters, I’ve got my back up pretty good as I rap on her metal door.
“It’s Captain Boa, open up, Rousseau!”
“Y-Yes, sir.” I can hear Rousseau’s muffled call from within, followed by a banging noise. Then moments pass with a muted, “Just a minute, sir.”
I’m about ready to pound on the door again, when she finally opens up. I instantly regret my pushiness. Rousseau has obviously been to the showers. Her hair is still damp and hanging free. It’s like a river of browns and reds, hanging down past her hips. I’ve never seen anything more attractive. Or more of a nuisance, I tell myself, trying to think of our upcoming mission and what a problem all that hair will be. I ought to make her cut it.
The thing is, damn it, I cannot help but notice how the wetness of her hair has dampened the white tee shirt she's wearing over her breasts. Large firm breasts and she’s not wearing a bra. Her brown eyes are wide and uncertain, looking at my chest as usual.
“Sir?”
Rousseau’s voice is like intimate bedroom murmurs. Always warm and softly spoken. It affects me every time I hear it. “Private Rousseau, you are to meet me on the flight deck at twenty-two hundred hours. I will brief you there.”
“I–yes, sir.” She blinks at me slowly. It's highly irregular, as in never, that I come to her quarters to issue orders. Only at the last minute, I decide the best course is to order her to do it. More than that, let her know as little about what is going on, until I get her on the planet, Agress. Then, she can’t try to back out. There's no way I’m going to let them put a pain bug in her skull. Hell. Where the hell did that thought come from?
I grind my teeth. I must look serious, because Rousseau is fidgeting nervously with the ends of her beautiful hair. Then, belatedly I realize how much time has passed and I clear my throat.
“Bring everything you need to dump a MAXI program into another system to search and destroy. But nothing extra, make it as light as possible.”
“Yes, sir.” Rousseau has surprise in her brown eyes. I can tell she’s fighting not to ask any questions.
“And find a flight suit that will fit you,” I order over my shoulder, as I turn sharply. “And boots, private.”
“Yes, sir!” Rousseau calls out smartly to my retreating back.
Chapter Five
“Damn, Tallie,” I mumble to myself, trying to squash my breasts beneath the zipper of a too tight black flight suit. “Damn it!” They do not make flight suits for big-breasted women. I'm certain that is somehow sexist. Then I check my boots, at least they fit.
I could have found out what’s happening. No one on board the U.S.S. Eclipse really understands that I’m an Internal-Systems hacker. That was my last job on earth. I would hack into anything, and then figure out how to keep myself out. Securities, my bosses called it. I called it love of the job. I could work at home and do what I do best.
So it wouldn't have been a problem for me to hack into Captain Boa’s logs or Commander Grady’s and pick out what I needed to know. I could have done it and they'd never known I’d been there. I’m still kind of wondering why I didn’t. But I know it has to do with Captain Boa. He's never come to my quarters like that before. He has never spoken to me like that before . . . with such intensity. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say he liked my breasts.
“Yeah right, you are not questioning a thing, just because your Captain eyed your boobs,” I mutter under my breath. Then, I grab the pack with the MAXI stuff in it." Get real."
However, I figure that's as close to the truth as I’m going to admit on
this one, as I leave my quarters and hope to hell he really did like my boobs. They were quite spectacular in the wet tee shirt I'd been wearing.
“I’m going to what?” I hiss four hours later, looking at Captain Boa’s tough and grim expression.
“That’s what I said, Private Rousseau. The team is going to parachute out of this heap and you’re going to buddy up with me, since you’ve never dropped before. Now, get up here so I can hook you up!”
All around me in the cargo Skitter, the other six men of "the team" are putting on their parachutes. I’d been really nervous wondering what the heck was going on, but Captain Boa’s silence and his intense stares kept me quiet. In the interim of four hours, and with no briefing as promised, I was imagining many things, but never this. I have an awful feeling we’re going into a war zone, and suddenly, I feel as though Captain Boa has betrayed me.
He steps closer to me and lowers his voice beneath the noise in the cargo hold. “Are you thinking of disobeying an order, private?” he asks me coldly.
This is my life, damn it, and I find myself brave enough to look up at him. “No, but I’ve never been in combat before, you should know that!”
The Captain grabs the hooks on my flight suit and he hauls me toward him to begin hooking me up to him. “I do,” he answers grimly. “That is why, Private Rousseau . . .” He tugs on a hook and jostles me closer. I’m nearly hugging him! “You are going to do exactly, and I mean exactly, everything I say the minute I say it! This is not going to be orders, private. This is going to be reaction on your part. Do not think. If I tell you to hit the dirt. You do it! Do not think if I tell you to go left, right, or stop. Just do it! If I tell you to stay in place, a nuclear blast is not going to uproot you.”
I’m mesmerized by Captain Boa’s fierceness as he looks down at me. We are so close. We’ve never been this close before. Not even when he grabbed me in the hall. He has to feel me shaking. I can see his concern and that nearly undoes me. His vivid blue eyes are sharp with it.
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