Ship's Whore Ch. 03: Dentata

My cock still lingered at that entrance. "Don't tease me, Sam," she said. "I want to be fucked. Hard."

I was happy to comply, holding her hips and thrusting within, forcing a guttural moan of pleasure from her, or perhaps pain. "I've never seen an alien," I said. "Only pictures."

"Gnafr needs an ammonium-rich atmosphere. Stinks. We can breathe it, for all of five minutes, maybe. Harder, Sam."

For a while, I concentrated on giving her what she was paying me for, but then curiosity got the better of me. "Squeamish about what?"

"Huh?"

"You said everyone's squeamish about the Gnafr, as if you don't want to touch it."

"That's how it communicates - through touch. It's just no one wants to. Now shut up, Sam. I can't come if I'm thinking about the Gnafr."

So I waited until the combination of her fingers on her clit and the ass-fucking I gave her brought her to the climax she craved, before saying, "I'll do it."

"Do what?" she asked absently, hurriedly dressing again.

"Touch the Gnafr. I'm not squeamish at all."

Alexandra stopped and stared at me. For a whole minute she was still, frowning, deep in thought. "Maybe..." But she wasn't talking to me.

And that was the end of that - or so I thought.

*

Rafael, a retired starship officer, was a fan of zero-G. Being fucked in the ass when you're floating in mid-air with nothing to hold onto takes some getting used to. Afterwards he'd invite me to join him for a drink and a snack, and we'd chat about Space and stuff.

"Five years ago," he told me, "Gnafr's ship shot out of whitespace and straight into a period."

Whitespace I vaguely understood. When the fabric of spacetime was warped one way, you got a singularity in the form of a black hole. When you warped it another way, you got whitespace - and that was the principle behind interstellar travel. "What's a period?"

"Any ball of matter big enough to bring your ship to a full stop."

Space humour. "Ah."

"One of those freak accidents that keep sensible people out of Space. Gnafr was the sole survivor. We traced the debris back to its ship, and brought the wreckage here to Neptune for study. Which is when we discovered Gnafr, oblivious to everything in a state of suspended animation." He chuckled. "You should have seen everyone run for cover when it woke up and yawned..."

*

Celeste, after avoiding me for weeks (which, given that we were stuck in a narrow tube, was quite impressive), sent me note: "Can we start over?"

I was curious enough to accept. I opted for navy blue skin with large white polka dots, and wore a white dress with large navy blue polka dots, and set out with a bounce in my step. We met up at a milkshake bar. "Where do you get milk from?" I asked.

"A machine," she said.

"Well obviously." Still, it wasn't half bad. "Have you forgiven me?"

She snorted gently. "I was angry at you for so long... but I, uh, also took your advice." The colour rose in her cheeks. "And after that it was difficult to stay angry."

"I'd love to watch you."

Her eyes went wide. "I don't think I could do that."

I shrugged. "One of my clients pays me to watch her. We meet once a week for lunch, a different place each week, and she does it to herself under the table. No one suspects a thing." I pushed my calves between Celeste's, forcing her legs apart. "Maybe next week she'll be sat where you are now. Maybe I'll be telling her she's not the only one who likes it."

Celeste's blush deepened. "I forgot how mean you are."

I gave her a cheeky grin. "I forgot how much you like it."

She didn't deny it, and the frown she sent my way lacked severity. She took my hands in hers, her touch like electricity. "I do like you, but I don't want to like you. I'm scared of liking you too much."

"Why? Because I'm a bad influence? Or because I'm a whore?" I wasn't upset, merely curious.

"Yes, and yes. And because you're a girl - I mean, you look like one, even if you say you're not."

"I'm not."

"But despite all that I can't stop thinking about you, and what we - what we nearly did."

"And you'd like us to finish what we started?"

"Um, yes."

"Can we have a doomed love affair, complete with secret trysts and heart-break?"

She sighed wearily. "One condition."

"Uh huh?"

"Lose the polka dots."

I mock-scowled at her. "Now who's being mean?"

*

Once again we threaded our way through Minerva, until we crossed the celestial bridge and entered the long garden, the contrast between open space and idyllic enclosure never ceasing to astonish me. "Standing in here," I said, "it's impossible to believe the cold vacuum of space is only five metres beneath our feet."

"We have no wind, no rain, no storms. No sun to burn us. No earthquakes or tidal waves. But what we have is ours, and we have so many plans for Minerva."

Celeste had such fire in her eyes, such beauty. I kissed her there and then - and for a moment she returned it, before pulling away and giving a startled glance around. "Secret, remember." Laughing, she led the way to the pool, and as we bathed there in the nude, concealed by the trees growing up from around and down from above, we kissed again.

Her hands cupped my breasts, her fingers finding my nipples and brushing them. "Be careful," I warned.

"No," she said, and pinched.

There's a difference between thirsty after a brief workout, and thirsty in the desert. There's a difference too between the arousal I live with daily, and the sledgehammer of mood enhancer at full strength. It's a need that is acutely painful to resist.

With a snarl of rage or lust or both, I drove Celeste backwards through the curtain of water into the cave beyond, and lifted her until her breasts met my mouth. I sucked on one nipple then the other, biting hard enough to make her cry out, alternating until she begged me to cease.

I lay her on her back on the shelf, her legs spread wide, her pussy fully exposed, and as I buried my nose between those tender lips, eager to smell her, I discovered her to be very aroused. I breathed in deeply, and looked up at her. "Is this what you want?"

"Do it, Sam. Make me come."

Instead I teased her, kissing her thighs, caressing her lips with my tongue, circling her clit with cruelty. My hands sought out her breasts, my fingers catching her nipples and pinching until she protested, though the copious flow below that my tongue swept up told a different story. She writhed beneath me, her hips thrusting up in search of the touch she craved.

"This is torture!" she cried.

I climbed up onto the rock with her, and swivelled round, straddling her head. Pressing my own pussy to her mouth, I bent down to kiss her. I growled with pleasure as her tongue found my clit, and I returned the favour, brushing with wide, gentle licks, maintaining a steady rhythm. Balancing on one arm, I put my free hand to good use, slipping first one finger into her, then two, fucking her gently as I gradually increased the pace.

She gave a muffled cry as she climaxed, and I lifted up to let her breathe, but I continued my attentions to her pussy that gushed beneath my lips like a natural spring.

By the time she finally brought me to orgasm, I'd made her come three more times, the last with my finger in her ass. I slipped back into the water, and as I tried to cool myself down to normal, I made love to that tight rear entry, kissing the sweet little ring of muscle and fucking it gently with my tongue.

*

"Did you mean what you said?" Alexandra asked. "About the Gnafr?"

We met this time not in my cabin but in the laboratory that Alexandra and her colleagues used. I was surrounded by computers and biotech, and we had an audience of curious onlookers. "Yes."

"We've been developing a new optional for ammonia resistance. It's still experimental, but it should work for the Gnafr's environment. Will you consent to be a test subject?"

I sensed an opportunity. "My doctor advised me never to get unregulated optionals."

"It's perfectly safe," Alexandra protested, contradicting her earlier caution.

"She also said I'd need to upgrade my radiation protection before going extrasolar, but..." I shrugged.

Alexandra's anxiety dissipated. "A price for everything, right?"

"I'm sorry," I said, raising an eyebrow critically. "You said something about consenting to medical experiments?"

"Hmm." She smiled suddenly. "As it happens, we develop a lot of optionals here at Minerva, including ESRPs. Maybe I could sign you up for that programme?"

I sighed melodramatically. "One way or another, people are always trying to get me into bed..."

*

Reasons not to risk unregulated optionals:

1. A bitch of a headache.

2. Days of nausea, vomiting, a nasty skin rash and violent fever.

3. Wild fluctuations in libido, coupled with hypersensitivity.

4. You really don't want to know...

Celeste visited me daily, the horror in her eyes confirming I looked as bad as I felt. "Idiot," she muttered. "Who turns themselves into a medical experiment just for the chance to fuck an alien?"

"I'm just going to talk to it."

"Hah. Right."

She did have a point. Fucking aliens was definitely on my bucket list. "Are you saying you wouldn't?"

"Of course not!" Strong words, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

*

And after all that, the only observable difference was that the smell of ammonia no longer bothered me. The Gnafr's quarters were a good size, and the air breathable, if a little on the cool side. The Gnafr itself looked almost like a black-cloaked vampire, standing tall and unnaturally still as it observed me with its insect-like eyes. The stuff of nightmares indeed.

But this was no monster. The Gnafr was a sentient being from unimaginably far away, the sole survivor of a catastrophe that had left him marooned far from home.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Sam."

The Gnafr shivered along its length, and growled as its carapace peeled open down the front to reveal an interior of reddish-pink flesh and thousands of pale, sharp-looking teeth.

("They're not teeth," Alexandra had explained earlier. "They're soft to the touch." Still, the instinct to run was strong.) I moved closer, and reached out slowly to press my hand against flesh that was warm and slimy.

Body fluids. Evolution has given us the instinct to avoid each other's fluids, to protect ourselves from the viruses and bacteria that spread through intimate contact. And yet, we ourselves need that same intimate contact to propagate. Thus the absurdity of sexual arousal, its overturning of sense and sanity.

I completely understood why most people would find this intimacy traumatic. And yet, as I ran my fingers between the not-teeth, feeling the saliva-or-whatever, I was reminded of Celeste's exposed pussy, and the enjoyment of losing myself within her.

From the Gnafr I sensed astonishment, and then curiosity as I stripped and came closer still, close enough for it to wrap itself entirely about me. I laughed, imagining what the researchers must be thinking, seeing me swallowed up naked by this intriguing alien.

I felt no alarm, though. I could breathe. The not-teeth rubbed against me, exciting me - intentionally or not, I don't know, but my response to the stimulus pleased it.

The pleasure of giving pleasure: a universal constant.

As I surrendered completely to this full-body massage, I remembered places I had never been to, creatures I had never met, music I had never heard, languages I had never spoken. I mourned for the family who must think me dead, and the friends who were lost now forever.

Whitespace. Period.

I surrendered to this union of mind and flesh, seeking the core of shared pleasure that would obliterate all thought - for a while, at least. How long we coupled, I do not know, but in a blissful unity we rested, content and at peace.