Crashland

"Stop! I cant!" I pleaded, my vision becoming blurry.

"A lil' mo'!" She slurred, her outstretched tongue interfering with her speech.

"Please Bean, let me-!" She abruptly released my arms and her tongue shot back into her mouth, she pulled me upright, all four arms desperately wrapping around me squashing me against her body and burying my face in her breasts. Her thighs clamped down and she delivered one final, crushing thrust. She spasmed, her strong grip compressing all the wind out of me, her insides writhed and squirmed as she came, roughly wringing my cock. I came too, my cry muffled by her cleavage. All I could smell, taste and feel, all I could hear, was Beanstalk, her slick, salty sweat, her fruity scent, her pumping heart, her convulsions and gasps of ecstasy, her taut muscles enclosing me.

We stayed upright like this for what felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. We shivered together, grasping eachother as if one of us might float away on this high, every contraction in her burning loins sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through me. She looked down at me, my ruby-red face nestled in her prominent cleavage, and I looked up at her, unable to prevent my eyelids from fluttering with the intensity of the afterglow. Her hands found my hair again and a sluggish tongue brought a long kiss, heavy and slow. My mind fizzed and popped, my aching body protested, and she lowered me onto the soft floor of the tent cradling me in her four arms like one might a tired child. She reached for a rag and made a futile attempt to wipe away some of our combined gunk that had leaked out of her around my groin, then lay with me, spooning as we had done the first night we spent together, her soft hands gently roaming across my body and through my messy hair. As I felt fatigue begin to take me, I finally understood what they meant when, an eternity ago, the French had nicknamed this feeling "the little death."

And so we continued for a week, marching during the blistering days, and warming eachother with unbridled lovemaking by night. Beanstalk seemed happier, more talkative, there was a pleasant spring to her loping gait, and I felt my anxieties about ending up as a pile of sun-bleached bones in this desert vanish. We were perfectly matched, I felt as if I could face the fires of hell, if only I had her at my side. Just as my rations were beginning to run dangerously low we reached the space elevator, it's glistening tower rising out of view. Crews loading and unloading cargo at the base of the structure started and pointed to us as we approached in the distance, this odd mismatched pair of figures.

The miners seemed familiar with Beanstalk's race, and a group of them discussed her map and requests heatedly, bringing in what could only have been the site manager from a prefab building adjacent to the loading area. I wandered a short distance away and sat on a dune as they debated, looking back out across the desert we had covered in our time together. It had seemed an impossible feat, and now that it was over it seemed all too brief, I looked behind me at the elevator as a massive platter of packaged ores rode up the central shaft, eventually disappearing from view in the blue haze above.

"You look pensive." Said Beanstalk, as she walked up next to me.

"Just weighing my options." She was silent for a minute, her face difficult to read.

"The miners have agreed to stop blasting where our tunnels are, and they've entered the map I gave them into their electronic system so it can be distributed to other sites around the planet."

"That's good then, mission accomplished!" I replied, trying to force a jovial tone into my voice.

"What will you do now, O'Brian?" She asked, concern creeping into her voice.

"I was thinking," I replied, "How will you get back across the desert without me?" She blushed a little, my comment bringing up memories of the last few nights.

"I will see if I can barter my cooling unit for a trip back on a mining skiff." I nodded, it made sense, I gazed out across the expanse again, the cogs in my head turning.

"I've been thinking, I did crash a multi-million ton interstellar cargo hauler with billions of credits worth of goods on board, totally unrecoverable, you know?" Beanstalk watched me intently, her dark eyes peeking out from under her hooded shawl. "When I get back home, I'd be lucky if all they did was fire me, they'll revoke my license, I'll never fly so much as a kite again. Worst case scenario the company will sue me for negligence and I'll lose all of my savings, probably end up in a debtor's prison for the rest of my life, as that ship and it's cargo were worth more than I'd make in ten lifetimes." I stood, my hands on my hips. "There's enough salvage at that crash site to make some miners very happy, perhaps happy enough to give the fellow who sold them the coordinates a skiff, a prefab and enough rations to last a good long while." I watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. "What do you think?"

She stared at me for a moment, then her face split into a radiant smile, and she pulled the lip of her hood down with her upper pair of hands to cover it, embarrassed.

"I know a certain person who would like that very much."