Hot Kofe

"We're not going on a date," he insisted, quickly realizing that it didn't matter what he said. His protests were falling on deaf ears. How the hell had he gotten into this situation anyway?

He needed to go about this with a new perspective. He got the impression that if he tried to ditch her or turn her down, then she'd just find him again. Kofe seemed to have taken an immediate liking to him for reasons that he couldn't fathom, and so no amount of avoidance was going to get her off his back. He couldn't lie to her and tell her that he wasn't into aliens or that he didn't find her attractive, because it wasn't entirely true. She seemed pretty sharp, and he got the impression that she would see through it. As he walked beside the giant creature, he began to formulate a plan. What if he gave her the worst date of her life? Surely then she would lose interest and leave him to his own devices? Yes, he would take her to the worst restaurant on the station, give her the cold shoulder, that would send her packing. If she ignored everything that he said, then he would have to make her think that breaking off this non-existent relationship was her own idea...

***

They came to a stop in front of a building, its decorative facade carved out of the white hull of the station. There were large windows along the front that looked out onto the crowded torus, people eating in small booths and around tables visible through the glass. There was a large awning with the restaurant chain's logo displayed prominently upon it, and he smiled to himself as Kofe looked it over.

Nobody would ever think of taking their date to a fast food restaurant, it was borderline insulting. He waited, anticipating a comment from Kofe, but rather than complain she clapped her massive hands together happily.

"Oh! I love this place! You come here too, Jeff? You can get so many burgers for such a small price."

His heart sank as she gripped him by the hand and dragged him towards the door. Of course she had been here before, she had probably cleaned out every restaurant and food stand on the station at least once. Food was her job, and it seemed to be her hobby too.

She hesitated at the door, examining the glass panels like a cat about to try a difficult jump from a bed to a dresser, judging it carefully.

"What's the matter?" Miller asked, watching her as she scratched her furry chin with one of her black claws.

"This station isn't really built for my kind," she explained, "human-sized doors are sometimes a problem for me."

"How do you even access half of the station?" Miller asked skeptically. Come to think of it, she was so tall and wide that she wouldn't be able to even fit inside half of the buildings that he worked in on a daily basis. How had she even gotten onto the station in the first place? Had they put her in the cargo bay of a carrier and then let her in through one of the docking bays? If a Krell could fit in a dropship, then he supposed that Kofe could too, but her size must be a hindrance in more scenarios than he could even imagine.

"Alright, stand back," she said as she crouched in front of the door. Luckily it was a double door, and so her girth was less of a problem than her exaggerated stature. A patron who had been about to leave the establishment took a few steps away from the entrance, his eyes wide as the furry alien prepared to enter. She looked like she was about to compete in a limbo competition.

She pushed the two glass doors open with her padded hands, her claws squeaking on the panes, the opening just large enough that her furry shoulders brushed the frame. She let go of the doors, her bulk preventing them from closing on her. Her hips were wider than her shoulders, and they blocked her, so she twisted sideways and wriggled until she managed to slip past. She emerged into the restaurant and stood up at full height, the ceiling high enough that she only had to stoop a little to save from hitting her head, brushing herself off and straightening her woefully inadequate t-shirt. It was far too small for her. Her furry belly protruded from beneath it, and her mammoth breasts struggled against the fabric. It looked as if she was one meal away from exploding out of it.

Miller followed behind her, feeling a little self-conscious as the other restaurant goers stared at them. Kofe was impossible to ignore, seven or eight hundred pounds of snow-white fur crammed into clothes that looked more suited to a hot summer's day than a climate controlled space station.

She strode over to the counter and planted her hands on it, leaning close to the digital menu boards that were displayed on monitors near the ceiling. She was tall enough that they were at head-height to her, her pink nose only a couple of inches away from the screens as she read off the menu. The poor employee who was waiting to take her order behind the cash register was presented with a faceful of her impressive cleavage, his cheeks reddening as he adjusted his colorful hat.

"Sorry. I'm not so good at reading human characters yet," she admitted, mouthing the words silently as she followed the sentence with her claw like a child reading from a picture book. "Oh, they still serve those fish fillet sandwiches with cheese, those are great. I'll take twelve of those."

"A dozen?" the employee asked in disbelief, craning his neck to look up at her and holding his paper hat in place with one hand. "I mean...sure, but that's gonna take us a few minutes. Is it to go?"

"That's okay, we'll eat it here. What are you having, Jeff?"

Jeff crept forward reluctantly, no longer able to conceal his association with her. He glanced up at the board for a moment, playing his eyes over the menu of cheap burgers and junk food.

"Gimme the...cheeseburger menu, with the fries and soda."

"Small, medium or large menu?" the employee asked. He seemed relieved to be dealing with another human.

"Make it a medium."

"Jeff," Kofe protested, "you'll waste away at this rate! What if there's a cold winter and you have to live off your fat reserves?"

"I live on a space station," he shot back, "there's no such thing as winter here."

"Oh well, if you find yourself in need of warmth, just come see me. I have enough to spare."

"You've got that right," he muttered under his breath.

"Jeff!" Kofe exclaimed, reaching down and giving him a playful shove. Well, playful by her standards, it sent him reeling. "For someone who plays so hard to get, you're quite the flatterer."

He implies that she's overweight, she takes it as a compliment? Typical. Her hearing range was incredible, she must be able to pick up someone whispering across the damned torus. This plan was already backfiring massively. The restaurant employee glanced between them, one of his eyebrows raised, and Miller felt his face begin to warm with embarrassment.

"It's not like that," he said, lowering his voice so that the other patrons couldn't overhear them. "I'm not with her, we're just-"

"We're on a date!" Kofe bellowed. Miller glanced around nervously, reflexively trying to shrink his head into the collar of his overalls like some kind of flustered tortoise.

"We're not on a date," he clarified, "she just calls it a date."

"Hey man, I don't judge," the employee said. He just looked like he wanted to get away from them, pointing across the room towards one of the booths by the window. "That booth over there is free, we'll bring your order over when it's ready."

Miller gave up, vowing never to visit this establishment again lest he be recognized. He gave Kofe a disdainful look as she plunged her fluffy hand into a bowl of sauce packets, practically emptying it.

"Are these free?" she asked.

"Yes, b-but we do ask that customers only take-"

"Thanks!" she said, turning about and heading over to their booth. Miller mouthed sorry to the employee, then followed behind her.

Kofe stopped beside it, dropping her sauce packets in a pile and planting her hands on her hips as she examined the seating arrangements. A fat human would have had trouble getting into one of these booths, never mind a Borealan. Miller edged past her bulk, pressing into the fat of her thigh as he skirted around her and took a seat. His Polar companion turned her head, surveying the room, and then marched out of view.

He waited, curious as to what she was doing, and then there was a horrible sound like nails on a chalkboard. He covered his ears, watching as she dragged a table across the floor, the metal legs screeching against the station's hull. The conversation in the restaurant went silent, the other customers either covering their ears or glaring at Kofe as she brought it to a stop in front of the booth. She tested it with her hand, leaning some of her weight on it to see if the frame could hold her. It creaked ominously, but she shrugged and planted her plump ass firmly upon it. The table was a remarkably good fit for her, allowing her to sit comfortably without having to stoop or crouch.

"They really need to bring this station up to date," she complained, shifting her weight uncomfortably. With an ass like that, she could probably sit anywhere she wanted, it was like a portable waterbed. "Good job the gravity is lower here," she joked, crossing her long legs and beaming down at Miller. "Now where were we?"

He leaned across the table in the booth, cradling his face in his hands as she snapped her thick fingers.

"Oh yes, I remember. I was asking you what kind of girls you liked."

Miller shook his head, grumbling muffled complaints.

"I don't know, I've not dated for a long time."

"No? Why not? You're a fine example of your species, if you don't mind my saying so."

"It just...didn't happen for me. I work too much, I don't have much free time. Being an engineer on this station is like being a doctor. You're on call at all hours of the day and night, because if something breaks on the Pinwheel, then it can put lives in danger. You have to be available to crawl through a vent, or spacewalk across the hull if it means solving a problem before it threatens the integrity of the station."

"Sounds like a hard job," she mused, "must pay well though."

"Erm...not really," he lied. She was entirely correct, it did pay well, but this might be an opportunity to make himself even less of an attractive prospect.

She gave him a sideways glance, perhaps trying to gauge if he was telling her the truth or not.

"I mean it would pay well," he added, "but all of my income goes towards...paying off my massive gambling debts."

"You're a gambler? You don't strike me as somebody who takes a lot of chances."

"Oh yeah," he said, spreading his arms in a shrug. "I love gambling. I'll put a wager on anything, it's an addiction."

"And where do you gamble on the station? I was under the impression that gambling was illegal in UNN space."

"Oh...right. Yeah, it is, but I gamble at the...underground gambling place. You wouldn't know it, on account of it being underground. I can't tell you where it is of course."

Was she buying it? Hard to tell...

"Well, what are you attracted to? Do you like big girls, small girls? Fur, skin or scales? Big boobs, no boobs?"

"Those are all...fine."

"You ever been with an alien before?" Kofe asked. She grinned as she leaned closer to him, Miller struggling to keep his eyes away from her bust. It was like a black hole, he could have stuck his entire head in there. "I heard that the Marines enjoy training with the Borealans on the station. It's become a right of passage, some say, survive a night with a Shock Trooper. Kind of like a hazing ritual for the newbies."

"I uh...hadn't heard about that," he replied. The Equatorials were the furless, heavily muscled variety of Borealan, Kofe's distant evolutionary cousins. They were just as big as she was, though somewhat less wide. If they fucked anything like they fought, then it was no wonder that sleeping with them had become a way to prove one's courage. Miller didn't even like making eye contact with them, they had claws that looked like they could tear through the hull and their exposed skin was covered in battle scars.

"Oh yeah, I have it on good authority. I know a doctor who works at the station's hospital, she's mated to a human, and she knows a training instructor who is also in a relationship with a human male. He's a firing instructor down at the range."

"Sounds like there's a lot of it going around," Miller replied dismissively, just hoping that the food would arrive soon so that she would focus on eating instead of making awkward conversation.

"Lots of Polars become doctors you know," she continued, "probably because we're naturally inclined towards being compassionate."

"If you say so..."

"It's true! We're a very social people, very tightly knit communities. If you live in a frozen tundra, you have to be ready to help each other out in hard times, or everyone would die."

"So what made you want to live on this station?" Miller asked, finally giving in and engaging with her. "It has to be too hot for you here, and everything is too small for you. What's the appeal?"

"I grew up on the homeworld, then my pack moved to Siberia. We settled part of the taiga that was too hostile for humans to live in. It gave me a taste for travel I suppose. I wanted to see more alien cultures, meet more strangers. Where better to do that than on the Pinwheel? It's like the center of the Universe, everyone who is anyone passes through here at some point, every species in the Coalition lives side by side. Except Brokers, never seen any of those guys around here. You ever seen a Broker?"

"Can't say that I have."

"What about you, Jeff? What are you doing on this station?"

"Oh, I'm...fleeing more gambling debts of course. Racked up quite a few on Earth. I owe a lot of money to some real bad people, mobsters. It probably isn't safe to associate with me at all, really, they might use my friends to get to me if they find out where I'm hiding."

Maybe he was laying it on too thick, she hadn't said anything about it so far, but he had to make his story a little more believable.

"You wouldn't rat me out, would you? I'm taking a big risk telling you this."

"Oh...no, of course not," she replied. "So what kind of things do you gamble on?"

Come on Miller, you're a goddamned engineer for Christ's sake, think of something!

"You know, card games, dice. Humans are big on games of chance."

They were interrupted by a server carrying a tray with their order, Miller letting out a sigh of relief as her attention immediately diverted from him to the food. The man placed the tray in front of them on the booth's table, leaning around Kofe's sheer mass to reach it.

"Enjoy your meal."

After he was gone, another came, and then another. In all four people came to deliver their meal, a medium sized menu for Miller and a dozen sizable filet-of-fish sandwiches for Kofe. He pulled his tray closer, opening up the cardboard box that contained his burger. It might be fast food, but he was damned hungry, he had worked up quite the appetite crawling through all those vents. He had a medium order of fries too and some soda, not bad for about ten credits.

He raised his burger to his mouth, then paused as he watched Kofe. She picked up one of the sandwiches in her furry fingers, tearing off the paper wrapper with her claws then downing it in one gulp. She hardly even chewed, it was just gone, little more than a morsel to the massive creature.

"These are good," she mumbled, cramming two more of them into her mouth like someone wolfing down hors-d'oeuvres at a wedding. "They can't hold a candle to my sandwiches of course, but I've had worse. You see how many of these I have to eat? That's why I sell such large sandwiches. Because of the quantity of ingredients that I use, I only need to sell half a dozen sandwiches a day to break even."

"Yeah, I remember how expensive they are," Miller grumbled as he bit into his burger.

Kofe picked up a few sauce packets from the massive handful that she had deposited on the table, not even taking the time to open them, simply crushing them in her large hand so that the contents were squeezed out onto her bun. Mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard. It just came out of her palm in a fat clump.

"Isn't that going to get all over your fur?"

She gave him a smirk, opening her hand so that he could see the mess of sauces. They were matting her snowy coat, sticky and clumpy, it was a real mess. As he watched, her long, pink tongue snaked slowly out of her mouth. It just kept coming, thick and tapered at the end, covered in tiny barbs that were almost too small to make out. It must have been a clear foot long. It wound around her fingers, prehensile, she had remarkable control over it. She dragged it through the mess of sauces, the barbs raking her fine fur and cleaning it, so effective that with one lick she left a spotless line down the center of her palm.

He realized that he was staring, quickly clearing his throat and returning to his meal. It was too late, however, she had picked up on that minute lapse in composure. She knew just as well as he did that his mind was now swirling with other, more obscene uses for that dexterous appendage. He tried to keep his mind off it, popping his straw into his styrofoam cup and taking a noisy draw from it.

Kofe cleaned herself like a cat, then started on another sandwich, chewing contentedly as she filled her cheeks. By the time Miller had finished half of his burger, she was most of the way through her pile, leaving a stack of discarded wrappers and crushed sauce packets in her wake. He could hear the table that she was sitting on creaking in protest, but the metal legs seemed to be holding for the moment.

"Good food?" he asked sarcastically, annoyed that the implied insult of having taken her to a fast food chain had gone right over her head.

"Oh yeah, simple but tasty. You're a rustic man, Jeff, you appreciate the simple pleasures. I like that about you. How's your meal?"

"It's...adequate."

"You'll have to come by my store again sometime soon, I'll make you a burger that's better than sex. Choice cuts of beef, real cheddar cheese, no synthetic ingredients. The sesame seeds in the buns are from New Pennsylvania. Well...better than the sex that you're used to in any case."

Miller lurched and almost choked on a mouthful of fries as he felt her tail sneak below the table, curling around his leg like a furry tentacle. He coughed, taking a draw from his soda to clear his throat. She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as she boxed him into the booth, Miller doing his best to scoot away from her but finding himself trapped between the window and her furry bust.

"You've never been with a Polar, right? I've never been with a human, but some of my friends have. My friend Railha who works at the hospital, she told me about this thing she likes to do with her tongue, says her mate goes crazy for it. She uses her weight to pin him to the bed, and she curls it around his-"

"Sandwiches!" Miller exclaimed, Kofe cocking her head at him. "I just love your sandwiches. Please tell me more about them."

She withdrew, Miller finally able to breathe again now that he no longer feared being crushed.

"Well like I said, they're made from all natural ingredients. Corn-fed beef from Franklin, sesame seeds and cheeses from New Pennsylvania, sauces from Borealis. That's where the fusion of human and Borealan cuisine comes into play, I use traditional oils from different territories on the homeworld to add flavor to the meat. It might not be very apparent to a human palate, but it's night and day for Borealans. Humans like sweet food, we prefer savory flavors. That's why I use a lot of sauces, adds to the taste."