Space is Majestic Ch. 02

James awoke to the sounds of his ship creaking, the joints groaning and complaining as the hurtled through hyperspace at maximum speed. With a small sigh, he tossed off his scarlet silk sheets, careful not to wake the sleeping engineer next to him as he stood up, naked, to walk to his wardrobe. The crew of the HMV 'Valentine' massed at around three hundred (three hundred and eight, to be exact), a motley assortment of characters that ranged from pure blooded humans to hybrid aliens. James himself was only half Earth human, a fact that he liked to keep quiet considering his commission with the Imperial Armada. The Empress herself had given him his stars, and had anointed his ship with her own words and magic.

Before pulling the standard issue black captain's shirt over his head, the captain paused a moment to stare at himself in his mirror. A tall but tired looking man glared back at him, the murky (yet brilliant) azure of his eyes hidden in the dim light. James had the broad shoulders and taut muscles of a swimmer, and his natural bronze skin colour hid the fact that he hadn't been inside the solar room for weeks. A tattoo spread over his left pectoral muscle, reaching to cap his left shoulder, and finishing with a twirl just above his belly button: a cultural tribal tattoo inked onto his skin when he was eighteen. He had two more tattoos; one on his right forearm of the Armada's insignia, and another on his back on his right wing bone of the letters 'J.L.D' in calligraphy.

The engineer stirred on his bed, sleepily stretching out her lithe body before settling back to snooze on his comfortable (yet military issue) double bed. Shaking his head, he smiled slightly at the sight of the pretty thing curled up in his sheets before pulling on the rest of his clothes. A black captain's shirt with gaudy gold ropes across the breast and on the shoulders, and standard issue tight black trousers, with polished knee-length boots. The entire ensemble was, although over-the-top, very fetching on the tall and darkly handsome captain -- and boy, did he know it. Pushing gel through his thick brown hair, he spiked it a little before brushing his teeth and spraying his body with inexpensive but attractive smelling cologne and walking out of his quarters, heading for the bridge.

-----

Lieutenant Commander Rhea Mayfair sat in her usual spot on the bridge, on the right hand side of the captain's chair. As the first officer, it was expected for her to be awake and ready for action before the captain arose, and certainly before he made his way to the bridge. She was entirely aware of the fact that she was beautiful, with her black hair and captivating golden brown eyes, and she used it to her every advantage. She was aware that men found her all the more attractive because she had power, and some even whispered that she was more powerful than the charismatic and handsome Captain Domitov himself. But Mayfair had no visions of commanding his vessel, and she certainly had no fantasies about taking control over Domitov... well, none that she admitted to anyway. They were quite the pair, but both captain and first officer made sure that their relationship was entirely professional... well, at least to the rest of the crew anyway.

As though reading her thoughts, the doors to the bridge hissed open, admitting the commanding figure of Captain James Logan Domitov, Tsar of Her Majesty's Vessel the 'Valentine', beloved by his crew (some more so than others, if the rumours were true) and the Empress herself. Everyone knew that she favoured him amongst the other captains in her personal armada, especially as he was the nephew and heir of her late husband, Duke Sergei II of Zyrene.

"Status report." Domitov's voice was edged with laughter; both of them had seen the various vintage science fiction movies and television shows that had aired decades before, and it had become a standing joke with them to quote Star Trek at every opportunity. Mayfair grinned slightly before replying in her best authoritative voice:

"Sir, the engineers say that the engine is running smoothly and can handle this speed at it's highest capacity. However, our supplies of liquid nitrogen to cool both life support and the exhaust of the engines have run below sixty percent. I recommend we make a jump to the nearest port and pick up the remainder. We have twenty two crew members in the infirmary, twelve of which are suffering from the same virus and have been placed in isolation. The others have been deemed non contagious by Doctor Pullman. Our fuel supplies are at eighty eight percent, and life support is stable as always, the oxygen garden is flourishing and the oxygen tanks are at one hundred per cent capacity. The --"

Domitov waved his hand at her, a physical order for her to be quiet.

"Thank you for that fascinating report, Lieutenant. Have one of the other officers type up the rest of the daily report and have it delivered to my quarters later this afternoon."

Mayfair nodded and glanced at one of the sub-officers, who had been standing within earshot in order to head this type of request from the captain. As the first officer nodded at him, he blushed slightly before scurrying off to deal with the task at hand. Turning back to the captain, she found that he was staring at her, an appraising look in his brilliant blue-green eyes. They were the colour of murky sea water, but not nearly as dull. Clearing his throat, he went and sat in his chair in the centre of the bridge, facing the forward projector screens of the space in front of them, and signalled for her to join him. Obediently, she stood at his right hand side as he sat down, leaning back in his chair with the casual air of someone confident in their power and abilities.

"Perhaps you could deliver the report yourself, lieutenant, I wouldn't want such sensitive information to get into the hands of anyone but an officer of the Armada." It wasn't a request; it was a thinly veiled command.

-----

Two hours later, and Mayfair was standing outside of the Captain's study, across the hall from his personal quarters. She paused for a moment, adjusting her hair in its military bun before pressing the comm. button outside. Domitov's face appeared on the tiny screen in black and white, he merely glanced at her before nodding and buzzing her inside.

"I have the report, as you requested, captain."

Domitov didn't reply straight away, instead he leaned forwards the appraised her with those beautiful eyes of his, boldly staring up and down her tall toned physique. She wore the standard issue black skirt, which she wore just above her knee, with matching inch high heel dress shoes. Her black first officers jacket was buttoned up to the neck, and the silver ropes across her breast and shoulders only brought out the dark colour of her hair and eyes. She said nothing, allowing him to stare lustfully at her before she took a step forward, placing the report in front of him on his heavy mahogany desk.

"Captain? The report."

Domitov sighed and picked up the report, flicking through it casually as he made her wait, her hands clasped behind her back. After a couple of minute he leaned back in his chair and once again stared at her, this time with a twinkle in his eye.

"Those high heels are quite inappropriate for space travel, lieutenant. I believe we've discussed this before. If you continue to wear them around the ship along with that uniform, I believe we're going to have a problem."

"And what would that be, sir? We have no danger of colliding with anything in hyperspace, and I never wear these when we are in realtime." She would never have been that impertinent if they hadn't been in the privacy of his study, and both of them loved it.

"Feisty today, aren't we? I don't think the men will be able to behold the sight of such a beautiful lady gliding around the ship, Mayfair. You look entirely too becoming in that ensemble."

"I could say that same about you, sir."

Domitov grinned and beckoned her forward with a quick gesture of his hand. Obediently she stepped forward more until she was standing one centimetre away from the front of his desk. He raised an eyebrow and made the gesture again. Mayfair smiled to herself and at the captain before slowly sliding onto the table (buttocks first), then spinning around so that she sat on the desk directly in front of him, her legs spread so that she could hook her heeled shoes onto the captain's chair.

Raising both his eyebrows, Domitov leaned forward so that he could place both hands on either side of her, his face level with her rounded breasts. He kissed each of them in turn through the heavy wool of the first officer's jacket, before slowly moving his mouth to the thick gold snap buttons that held her jacket together. One by one he undid them with his teeth, whilst his left hand snaked under her skirt to stroke at her inner thigh to tease her while his right hand supporting her back as she moaned softly with longing.

"You see, lieutenant? This is what behaviour you warrant with wearing such an appealing uniform." He smirked up at her, his eyes bright with desire, and seeing a reflection of lust in Mayfair's eyes as well. She responded by slipping off her jacket, and tossing it onto the floor next to the captain's desk. Beneath her jacket she wore a black t-shirt with the first officer's rank symbol on the right breast, and nothing else that Domitov could see - apparently she had been foreseen what kind of fun they would be having when she came to his office.

Grasping her ass with both of his hands, Domitov dragged her forwards until she was teetering on the edge of the desk, now only inches away from the captain. Once again his left hand snuck under her skirt, pulling it up slightly to give him better access as his right hand grasped her lower back firmly, holding her in position. Without looking, Domitov knew that Mayfair was wearing the usual average black underpants of the military. Running his fingers along her inner thigh, he smiled to himself at she shivered in response, her breathing coming out in ragged squeaking gasps. She shifted her legs, giving him better access, and he obliged her by moving his fingers to stoke at her clit through the thin cotton of her panties, hearing her moan ever so softly with desire.

"Do you like that?" Domitov whispered, murmuring against her chest as he gently nipped at her nipples through her t-shirt. Mayfair whimpered slightly before muttering a soft "yes" as a reply, shivering as his hands sped up their insistent and firm stroking. He could feel her weakening against him, and soon his hand on her lower back was the only thing keeping her upright. She slung her arms around his neck to prop herself up, as he smoothly inserted his finger into her, his thumb still stroking against her clit from the outside.

"Don't stop." She half-moaned to him, afraid that he would deny her the ultimate pleasure. It occurred to her at this stage what it would look like if someone were to enter the room -- her back was to the door, but the way she was sitting with her legs obediently spread from him, his hand buried beneath her skirt.. she found the mental image extremely erotic, and found herself breathing harder, trying to stop herself from moaning in case anybody could hear them. Domitov said nothing, but in another smooth movement he moved her skirt, bunching it above her waist so that he could have better access.

He found himself helplessly drawn to her, the beautiful first officer of his beloved Valentine, a lady with enough authority and wisdom to command a crew of over three hundred without breaking a sweat. The men (and the women, apparently) loved her, but she loved him, the captain and hence the crew followed suit. He found it strangely erotic that he held so much command, but so much of it depended on her and found himself groaning slightly.

Mayfair was quite worked up by now, and Domitov's fingers could only do so much to please her. Her panties were slick and damp, a testimony to the captain's abilities of pleasure. She could see that he was just as aroused as she was, and she was about to mention something about it when he pulled his hand from within her underwear and grasped her buttocks, pulling her down onto his lap. Now she was straddling him, her feet planted firmly on the floor and her arms around his neck. There was a pause where both of them relished the intimacy of the situation, before Mayfair took over, quickly unbuttoning Domitov's shirt and unzipping his trousers whilst nibbling his ear. He kept his hands around her waist, kneading her buttocks and running his fingers up her smooth back underneath her t-shirt. With practised ease, she bit his left ear lobe and sucked at it, breathing into his ear and causing him to shiver. Slowly she moved down, nipping at his jaw line before placating the hurt skin with a gentle kiss. The contrast of the slight pain and the pleasure of the kisses casued Domitov to shudder once again, immensely stimulated by the beautiful woman straddling him, their bodies pressed insistently together.

Without warning her lips found his, and electricity sizzled through the two of them with the closeness of it. Her mouth was hot, and her tongue found his and toyed with it whilst she took his lower lips between her teeth and sucked on it, once again causing both pain and pleasure. Mayfair delighted in the power and control she had over the handsome captain, knowing that at this moment she could have asked anything of him and he would have agreed. Just as suddenly, she pulled away, breathing heavily and her dark eyes searching to meet his gaze as she pushed herself downwards slightly, knowing that he could feel just how wet she was through the thin material of both their underwear.

"I'm not sure I approve of this teasing, lieutenant." Domitov muttered in her ear, seizing the opportunity to bite her earlobe and kiss her neck, slowly at first before working up into a rather aggressive nibble/suck mode, causing Mayfair to shiver and moan with pleasure. He knew better than the leave any sort of mark on her neck, but boy did he try. Within moments the two of them were quite worked up, sweat glistening on their foreheads as the exchanged body heat. In one deft movement, Mayfair slipped off her t-shirt, revealing her taut and lithe body with perfectly rounded breasts. Domitov also removed his shirt, tossing it casually onto the floor while he admired the view that the officer was giving him. He wasn't sure if he could get any hornier, and he also wasn't sure just how much more teasing he could take -- she was far too arousing for her own good. Leaning down with a little difficulty, he licked her breast, and trailed it up to her neck, kissing and sucking at it from the other side. In response, Mayfair reached down the fiddled with his trousers, loosening his boxers and the zipper so that he could spring free.

"This quite hard for me you know. I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am." The double entendre of his words made her giggle, and she wiggled forwards slightly so that she could feel his sex pressing against her belly, loose from its confines in his trousers. She began to nibble at his jaw again when without warning, he once again grasped her buttocks and shifter her upwards so that she wavered just above his ready member. She nodded slightly in assent and he obligingly dropped her, sliding onto his shaft easily and with a shuddering moan. The combined slickness and the warmth of Mayfair's inside was more than Domitov could handle, and he abandoned his kissing of her neck to start thrusting into her. Sex in a chair isn't the easiest of tasks; it requires a group effort from both parties. Luckily both of them were well acquainted with this position, and she easily began to grind against him, moaning against his neck and she felt him piston into her with enough force to make her (and the chair) squeak. Within moments both of them were groaning with pleasure, not caring who could hear them from the outside and lost in the pleasure of each other's company.

The friction of their two bodies caused enough heat for her to lose her breath for a moment, her head light and giddy as she gasped and moaned against him, her fingernails digging into the backs of his shoulders with insistency as they began to grind faster.

Soon it was too much to take, and Domitov could feel himself coming close to the edge. Not wanting it to be a solely selfish experience, he reached one hand down at began to stroke at her clit through the material in rhythm with his thrusting. Within seconds Mayfair felt herself explode with pleasure as she felt him encompass her insides and his finger relentlessly gliding across her most sensitive areas. Feeling her clamp around him time and time again, Domitov felt himself go over the edge, and he groaned against her neck, gasping with the sheer pleasure of it and the unity of their two bodies.

They both lay against each other, leaning against the chair as they tried to regain both their composure and their breath. Leaning back, the captain sighed pleasantly and pinched Mayfair's ass, laughing a little at the intimate situation. Mayfair still pressed against him, struggling to get her breath back as she simultaneously slid off of him and back onto the desk, pulling her skirt down almost self consciously to cover her swollen and slightly sore folds. She said nothing, but smiled at her handsome captain, taking immense enjoyment out of the experience and knowing that the memory of it would help her at a later, perhaps more lonely, date.

On impulse, Domitov leaned forwards and planted an almost chaste kiss upon her lips, squeezing her thigh as he did so. He grinned at her and then motioned towards the door and the reports that were scattered across his desk and on the floor.

"You've made quite the mess, lieutenant. Oh well, I'll have one of the airmen order it all up for me." He began to button up his shirt, after having rezipped his trousers and buckled his thick belt. Mayfair also clothes herself quickly and with military efficiency, and Domitov noticed with a smirk that she had not one black hair out of place, and within moments she looked as professional as she always did. She smiled back at him and winked, smiling even more when he raised an eyebrow at her impertinence.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

Domitov tapped his slightly swollen lips before replying.

"Yes, tell the pilot to set a course for the nearest space station or port so we can pick up our needed supplies before heading back to the Citadel."

He winked back at her and then made a shooing movement with his hands, and she dutifully saluted him before sauntering out of the door of his office, leaving him to ponder their lovemaking before returning to his reports.