A Scanner Deeply Ch. 03

Outer Ring Region – 7-692B System – Orbital path – Hel Supercarrier-class ship

Calixte always wondered at why CAG briefings, where a new officer was introduced, had to last so long and be so falsely casual. She managed a couple of smart jokes involving panties and ionic propulsion when she was asked to the pulpit that made the pilot audience grin and chuckle and she exited stage left, leaving everyone guessing at her openness to breaching officer protocol about romantic involvement with troops.

Female pilots where rare, even in Gallentean culture, where freedom and equality was more a duty than a right. She couldn't remember why. Being born Vherokior, she always had followed the female elders in their mystic journeys on the "little smoke", bringing back visions to lead the clans. It was kind of expected of her to lead people when she grew up. If it was the only thing she retained from her former life, she would be happy. She never questioned that external impulse. It suited her fine right now, maybe gave her the energy and impetus to get things done that other people mistook for an ambitious will for castration. Actually, most men were slackers, objectively compared to her, and that rubbed the worst of them the wrong way, shed unfavorable light on them.

She had noticed one of the new squad leaders, in the back, who got there almost late, was the cock she had fucked earlier in the elevator. A quite nice one, all things considered. She hadn't felt one filling her in quite a while and had hoped for a no-strings-attached anonymous encounter. So much for that... She would have to deal with it another way, but would wing it right now... maybe even take advantage of it. Perhaps she even welcomed it. She loved the feeling of holding his sperm inside her, contracting her muscles tighter in spasms, prolonging the orgasm that earlier had her moan and sweat against the glass wall of the elevator. Her nipples perked at the memory of the cold surface. Exiting the briefing would be an exercise in demureness not to attract the attention of the other officers with the two little bumps in the cloth of her overall, right underneath her name badge.

For once it had been a benefit for fleet roles not to be evident on the pod-clothing. That young SC might not have taken her otherwise. It changed so often, anyway. She had the opportunity to study him at leisure, while the FC droned on about housekeeping, discipline and the objectives of the Outer Ring patrols. He was not a pure Intaki, although she could not trace what races lent him the particular features. His skin was more olive than the Intaki and his dark hair and dark eyes were probably what made her give in to the impulse of provoking him in the first place. She noticed a couple scars and more than a little grimness in the set in his jaw, as he listened to the list of last casualties in the recent skirmishes of the area. The dark eyes let the low burn of once fiery coals show briefly. He glanced at her a few times, an amused and maybe puzzled look in his face, as if daring her to strip naked, right there, in front of every other pilot of the fleet.

Once in her office, she grabbed the files of the squad commanders in her wing and sifted through the pictures. Emerson... an androgynous name that just rolled off the tongue... She would find him in the smaller squad brief rooms.

"SC Emerson, report for duty at 1015. New assignments. BR 114."

The squad members that huddled over star system charts in the plan room around Emerson were just as dumbstruck as he was to see their new wing commander behind the sliding door that interrupted their discussion.

Fifteen minutes later, the door of the briefing room slid open.

"SC Emerson, reporting for duty, sir." She really disliked being called sir. Old habits die hard, she guessed.

"Come in, SC, come in." She got up from her high chair behind the plated glass of the star system chart, slid the commands back to the bottom corner and took a few measured leisurely steps towards him.

The room was only dimly lit by the different work panels she had been using. Blues, whites, greens. Lighting directions random and flickering. Shapes were somewhat blurred in the afterthought of irregularly cast shades. Light and shadow played over their bodies, making random ridges eerily obvious and concealing other troughs. Their faces, she knew, were the most phantasmal in this lighting.

Light and magic.

Motes played around, swirling in the heavy air with the grace of her movements.

Magic and light.

"Seems like we got a good start to that 'inter-officer camaraderie' the FC was talking about." He blushed slightly and the corner of his mouth lifted in a casually suppressed smile.

"Yes, sir. Although, it feels kind of weird to use that word in the presence of a body that so recently was entangled with mine." Such politeness... He was a foot away from her and she could feel the heat radiate from his body, as if remembering the earlier embrace.

"Drop it then. Call me Calixte. Or Cal, at your preference." She smiled languidly and chuckled inwardly at how her line seemed taken directly out of a sappy dialog from an X-rated Holoreel. "Enough talk. step in, Emerson." She grabbed the back of his neck as the door slid shut and pulled his lips onto hers, roughly, without preamble and slid her tongue between his lips, probing and playing with his. He did not respond immediately, but eventually bent himself cautiously around her, taken her into his embrace.

"What is this, some kind of welcome ceremony? Do you greet all your SCs like this?" He seemed a bit wary as she pulled him by the hand to the console, a large underlit table, waist high, in the center of the room, used to spread translucent star system charts, recon photos, play out attack scenarios, etc. She unzipped her pod-clothing and it fell at the foot of the console in a grey-green heap.

In one spry jump, she was standing on top of the console, blue-grey light illuminating her from underneath. That seemed to ignite Emerson's interest and he stepped closer, his head at the height of her thighs. It was warm enough in the room to be naked and not shiver – at least not from cold – maybe even hot. He dropped his pod clothing as well.

"Come here, delicious officer." She put her hand behind his head and drew his head to the skin of her thighs, pressed it and relished the sight of him closing his eyes and taking in her smell. Still eyes closed, he brushed her inner thighs with his hand, going upward and kissed her skin, pressing his head firmly to her slender leg. His hands reached her ass and each hand grabbed a cheek, pulling her to stand at the edge of the console and her pussy closer to his mouth. His mouth was drawn to it, eagerly, earnestly, like that of a worshiper to a cult cup.

She slipped out of his grip. "You like that ass of mine, hmm?" She turned her back to him and slid her hands down from beneath her armpits down to her waist, gently swaying, then slapped one hand on her ass and dug some nails in, showing him how deliciously firm it was. She saw his cock respond immediately, as it twitched a little more to life, growing thicker and rising continuously. "Hmm... looks like you'd enjoy a little show?" He seemed unable to talk and just smiled in response. She thought the head of his cock parting his foreskin was as yes.

She knew he could see her sweat forming on her naked skin and moved herself to the center of the console, where two other backlit vertical panels gave off a greenish off-white light, making a tangled play of shadows and blue green light on her now sparkling skin.

She started swaying side to side and slid up and down in a very slow and deliberately open way. She kept offering glimpses of her smooth pussy to him and of the tight pucker of her ass. Both hands on her ass cheeks, she turned her back to him and spread it wide. She thought the light didn't allow him to see quite good in that undulating recess, but she knew that he imagined... She must look like quiet an apparition, shimmying her body such.

She remembered the movement of her body during the dances seeking the "little smoke" and, pushing the trance-like feeling away, she took control of her sensuous movements, weaving her hands in complex patterns. Her arms and legs flowed around the shafts of light. Her breath came rhythmic and undulating with the rest of her body. Her breasts heaving and following the dance. Her nipples dark pointers in the shadows.

Occasionally, she glanced at Emersons shaft and saw how hard he must be straining not to jump her immediately. She smiled inwardly. She was getting very wet with his intense attention.

She slowed her movements and got closer to the edge of the platform. Again, when she got to the edge, she turned her back to him. Again, she brought her hand hard on her ass, making a sharp slapping noise. Her firm flesh rippled briefly. She breathed "You want it. Please it." Emerson grabbed her waist and buried his face between her ass cheeks and let his kisses loose onto her warm skin. He licked and nibbled, his lips almost quivering with impatience. His tongue was searching every place and eventually reached her asshole. His tongue felt voluptuously cool as it brushed circles around her hole.

The pace of the licks quickened and became more insistent. His tongue reached inside, circling, making her gasp. His hands were everywhere around her hips, her upper legs, her ass, her pussy lips, sliding politely inside her.

Her left hand was pressing his head onto her and her right hand was pinching her nipples alternatively, caressing her breasts, squeezing them from time to time. Her nipples were now hardest.

She turned abruptly to face him, her eyes burning her lust into Emerson's. "You want to fuck that ass, don't you." More a statement than a question. She ran a finger down his torso, down to his now raging hard cock, its head smooth and red, his balls high and tight against his shaft. She stroked the underside of it with her nails, between his asshole and his balls and felt him quiver markedly. He seemed mute with lust, his breath coming in ragged half-sighs, half-groans. She continued teasing him until he managed a gasp. "Please let me fuck you."

She slapped a hand on his sculpted ass and brought him closer, between her legs. Her other hand, still stroking his cock, took hold of it and placed its length against her pussy lips. They were completely slick with her juices and his sperm – finally allowed to flow out and along her thighs – and very sensitive. She endured the strong temptation to slide it in to tease him longer. Sliding its length against her lips, making it wet, but never letting him feel the soft heat of her pussy walls.

She slid off the platform, pushed him back a couple steps into a chair and quickly straddled him. With both hands on his shoulders, she weighed her chest against his, lifting and lowering her crotch against his cock. Again. Teasing him. She could feel him straining, wanting to slide his very hot cock inside her. She wanted it too. The smooth warm shaft made her pussy tingle and spasm with pleasure.

She lifted her breasts of him and squatted above him, swiftly sliding a hand to his cock and guiding it to her ass. She sat on it, screaming loud as it plowed deep into her. Oh how full she was. And her pussy empty. It was almost unbearable. She almost came right there.

She hadn't heard him groan as she took his cock in, but as soon as she started moving up and down, she heard his pleasure. His cock was throbbing and she knew he was straining not to come. She increased her speed and her moans grew ragged and loud, with his.

She shoved three fingers into her pussy, bringing her palm onto her clit – and came immediately, screaming loudly and contracting. Hot sperm washed up inside her. Wave after wave of pleasure blotted out all other sensation.

When the orgasm started to subside, she slid off of him, warm cum splattering out of both her holes.

Emerson chuckled. He had thrown his coverall on this very chair. They were now very conspicuously stained...

***

She marched ahead of him in the hallways, both in their coveralls. She placed herself so that she was just in front of the monster stain on his coverall.

They made for the collection of pods in the launching bay, pretexting a ship fitting drill to Scottie, the Docking Manager.

Nobody would notice the stains when they would next come out of their pod, drenched in pod goo.