The Warden of Cryosleep

Weston's engorged member struggled against the elastic waistline. It was a simple matter to change the direction of her pulls and slide the fabric past. His cock bounced lightly from the freeing motion.

The dimness of the room did little to diminish the sight of the impressive piece. Dr. Alice Hill, enthused workaholic, was probably less experienced in such things than most, but she was nonetheless confident that Weston was particularly equipped. Her hands reached out to clutch it before she had a moment to question it. More than anything, she wanted it in her mouth, but his chest planted above her prevented it.

His cock filled her greedy hands as they mercilessly stroked him to hardness. Along with the growth in her palms, his kisses against her neck and collarbone slowed as he became increasingly distracted.

Without warning, the engineer reached down to pull himself from her hands. The reason became clear when he pushed aside the soaked black fabric between her legs and pressed the head against her. An inadvertent moan escaped her lips, just the assurance he needed to enter.

A good thrust of the hips was all it took to slide inside, her slick fluids offering effortless access. Alice couldn't help but let her head fall back onto the pillow as the fullness radiated through her. Heavy lips fell against hers in renewed intensity, parting their meager protest and diving inside.

Weston drove in ardently until his hips and legs smacked against hers audibly. Each thrust emanated with a vigor she couldn't have imagined, pressing against all the right nerves. All too soon, he ground into her with three powerful motions, groaned angrily, and collapsed prostrate on top of her.

"Fuck, that's embarrassing," he finally offered once he had control over his breathing.

Alice could only lie beneath his weight and gaze up at the ceiling in awe. She couldn't find the words to respond.

"I guess I shouldn't be cursing in front of you either." More dejected than she thought he had any right to be, Weston stood and allowed himself to slip out of her; a tangible emptiness arose. Only when anger found her did she regain enough composure to respond.

"So, it's okay to fuck me, but you can't curse in front of me? What the hell is that about?" Alice pushed herself to sitting, unwilling to chastise him while she still lay on his bed.

"Look," he started, hands splayed out in front of him as if that would somehow calm her. "I never thought-"

"Thought what?" She was suddenly nervous he would cruelly describe her skills in fucking or some insecurity she'd buried years ago. While Weston unsnarled the words locked in his throat, she couldn't meet his eyes for fear of what he might say.

"I never thought you'd notice me." When he did manage to speak, his voice was quiet, even wounded.

"I don't even know what that means." Thankful for the bra and panties she still wore, she snatched her shirt from the bed. When her shorts weren't immediately apparent in the dark, she left without them, making no attempts to hide her frustration. A heavy fist pounded the control panel to slide the door closed behind her.

Alice desperately hoped he wouldn't let that be the end of their romp, that he'd grab her, push her back against the bed, and have his way with her again, but he didn't. Instead, he stood in silence as she walked away. She soon realized he was leaving her unsatisfied.

In her own quarters, Alice didn't know what to do. Physically, she wanted to get off. She wanted to slide her fingers right down and get it done. Emotionally, she was angry he had left her that way, angry enough that the idea of getting off felt like a defeat. She was stuck. No one had ever used her that way before.

With only one choice left, she strode into her private bathroom and turned the shower to full cold. The showerhead beamed down a steady stream into the open area surrounding the drain. One foot planted onto the abrasive flooring and then the other as she cursed the man who shared her isolation in space.

The biting cold of the water sobered her unfulfilled desire as it beat against her skin, precisely the effect she'd hoped. She stood in the stream until her jaw shook with the chill. By the time she toweled dry, only the sting of anger remained.

Alice donned fresh clothes and headed to her office, unfazed when there was no sign of her counterpart. It was fine with her, really. She never wanted to see him again. Instead, she threw herself into her work, crunching numbers and starting reports that would be expected when they rendezvoused with Gamma Outpost and Nobbert. Only two days into their mission, she had little data to work with, but at least it kept her mind occupied.

When the time came to venture to the galley for a meal, she found it pleasantly lifeless. In fact, the rest of her evening routine passed without incident. Already showered, she read a few more chapters of Sense and Sensibility with a couple bourbons over ice before turning out the lights. The lush feel of seersucker enveloped her as she drifted to sleep in the total dark of deep space.

"Dr. Hill?" She heard the voice but ignored it-half-hoping it was a bad dream. "Are you awake?" he continued.

"Not anymore. Is there a problem, Ramsey?" She used his last name with intention.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I wasn't sure what hours you'd take."

"Go on, what is it?" Too annoyed to sleep, she sat up and cued on the wall sconces above the bed. She desperately hoped he was here on official business.

In answer, Weston approached her rather slowly, but still purposefully. She drew her blanket-covered knees to her chest despite her best attempt to appear indifferent to him. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how much she had enjoyed him-for the full thirty seconds it lasted, that is.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I only meant to kiss you and things got away from me. I had no idea what to expect and you're so much more than I ever could have hoped." Weston spewed his eccentricities as he sat on the side of the bed next to her. Along with his words, his proximity brought an unmistakable intensity.

Alice gaped openly at Weston's explanation while he sat coolly beside her. She didn't know whether she should be angry or hurt or confused or flattered; instead, she could only stare in a meager effort to gather her thoughts.

"I'll go if you want me to, but I'd really like to stay." She realized his intention at once: he would visit her in the night and take what he wanted, leaving her unsatisfied again and again. There was no way she would let it happen.

"You can't just come in here to get off when you get bored. I'm not your toy."

"Do you trust me?"

"Uh, no. No, I don't."

"That's fair." Weston swallowed heavily before continuing, "I'd like to make amends for my behavior and give you the best oral sex of your life. I'll leave all my clothes on. This is just for you."

Alice froze, rolling the words through her mind. Amends... Oral Sex... Just for you... After a moment, she managed to open her mouth, but failed to produce any sound.

Perhaps in an attempt to save her from producing a response, or maybe he misunderstood her open mouth, Weston leaned forward and planted his soft lips against hers for the second time that day. She noticed he would move quickly, darting his tongue in exploration before consciously drawing back to a slower pace. When his large palm arrived alongside her neck, she knew she would do whatever he wanted. Alice let her hand fall against the meat of his forearm and gave him a squeeze to prod him on.

True to his word, Weston only kissed her for a painfully short time before abruptly pulling away. Like in her teen years, she could have lain in bed and experienced the simple erotic pleasure for hours, but he had come with other plans-plans she was all too interested in letting him fulfill.

The engineer lifted off the bed and readjusted until he was on all fours over her when her lips reached out to him again. Had they been naked, he could have easily slipped his cock inside her, rather than let it press against his leg as it was. Weston let her have a few more moments of heated kissing before he backed toward the foot of the bed, bringing the violet, hand-crocheted blanket with him.

The cold air enveloped Alice's legs and torso, resulting in a shiver. Kneeling at the end of the bed, Weston reached out to clutch at her withdrawn ankles and pull her down until she lay flat with her head on the down pillow. Already she could feel the fluids collecting in anticipation for what the engineer would do to her.

She had a moment of panicked joy when he crawled back up to press his hips to hers, his chest to hers, his lips to hers. The strength of his kiss and the eagerness of her response left her fearful she would give herself to him again. She considered protesting but he realized a moment sooner.

"No," he called out loudly to himself, shaking his head before descending again. Planted at the foot of the bed, he reached up to tug at the waist of her seersucker pajama bottoms. This time, he slid her panties clean off revealing bare legs and a pathetically groomed patch of hair.

Unperturbed, Weston lowered his hips and chest to the bed, squeezing his shoulders between her toned thighs. Alice could only close her eyes and wait for him to fulfill his promise. Light kisses landed along the tops of her legs and across her hips as eager hands stroked the sides of her thighs before the warmth of his breath struck her. The shivers and goosebumps faded instantly.

Weston dove in with his tongue, sliding casually up to her clit and flicking slightly before heading back down to tease her opening. He moved along her slit slowly, teasing and torturing her with his wandering pace.

Strong hands clutched at the muscles of her thighs as his tongue flew at the same impossible speed until she was sure she lay in a pool of her own fluids. The sensation of juices sliding out of her only increased her arousal and she wondered if she'd have to help him. He moved fast enough to excite her but slow enough she would never come. Alice was trapped in a purgatory of inescapable, mounting ecstasy.

Mere seconds before she spoke up, a pair of firm fingers made their way inside her. Like his tongue, their movements stirred her before they slid out again. Longer and longer she waited for the return of his presence inside her, but he only inserted his fingers after an infuriatingly long amount of time. Her hands clutched at the fabric beside her as she battled the excitement that was just that much too little, still out of reach.

Weston continued his erotic assault on her, lapping skillfully and withholding the glorious pressure his fingers provided until she could hardly stand it. While she'd questioned his abilities earlier, her dripping pussy and primal impatience undoubtedly testified to the opposite. Weston Ramsey knew exactly what he was doing, and she was defenseless against him.

"Please," she gasped in desperation. It was too much to take after what he'd done to her that afternoon. If he made her wait any longer, she'd kick him out and finish the job herself.

To her eternal relief, two large fingers returned inside her. This time, they curled up to nimbly stroke the nerves there. At the same time, his tongue graciously dove onto her clit with a speed and intensity she scarcely needed anymore. The combination was more than enough to send her over the edge, not slowly, not gently, but rather a heavy kick off until she had to scream out. Piercing waves engulfed her as her spine arched and her hands clawed for anything to clutch. Heated breaths fought to escape as she lowered back down to the bed.

She felt the mattress move beneath her, but neither cared if it was on fire or being attacked by animals. The post-coital calm claimed her, and she was satisfied to lay in total stillness.

Weston appeared at the side of the bed and spoke quietly, "There's a warm cloth here if you'd like it. Good night, Alice." He pulled her blanket up over her until only her arms and shoulders lay exposed before the lights went out and she heard the hum of the door sliding shut.

In the manufactured morning light, Alice had to wonder if she'd dreamt it. The whole scenario was so far outside her norm, it couldn't have actually happened. Only her sticky, pant-less legs confirmed it for her. She slipped into the shower and contemplated it all, eventually finding she had only one real choice.

"Ramsey?" she called out into the empty galley. Her eyes glanced across it several times to be sure, but she quickly moved on to his quarters. The doors to the corridor were hopelessly soundproof; as much as she wanted to approach him slowly, she found herself cuing the computer to open the door to his quarters. Thankfully, they, too, were empty.

Back down toward the living quarters, she stood at the base of the metal ladder that extended to the engineering levels of the ship. She had never seen them before, and she had no reason to ever go, but nonetheless, she found herself climbing the metal slats hand over foot. On the crisp white wall, she saw the ship's identifying sequence inscribed into the metal wall: AAIW65. They had given up on naming the ships long ago.

"Ramsey?" she called out again when both feet were planted on the second level.

"Down here." Alice followed the sound until she found him sitting at a computer terminal in the Life Support Room.

"Good morning," he said with a wide smile when she appeared in the doorway. She could barely see his face over the monitor.

"Good morning," she replied. "Everything alright up here?" Alice didn't want to think about what would happen if something went wrong with life support. She would secure Ramsey into a cryo chamber before sliding into hers. She was the only one who could set up her own cryosleep.

"Yeah, I was just working on a project. Did you eat already?"

"No, I just wanted to talk to you, about last night..."

"How about we discuss it over some pancakes?" His easy calm still unnerved her. She shook like a leaf at the prospect of the conversation, and he wanted to eat. On top of it, he knew what pancakes were and how to make them? She couldn't turn him down.

The engineer walked her back to the ladder but insisted on going down first. As she lowered herself down, much slower than he had, she noticed he stood at the bottom as if anticipating her fall.

"I can handle myself on a ladder," she said as she stepped onto the last rung and finally the main level of the ship.

"Of course. What kind of pancakes would you like?"

What kind? Blueberry. Strawberry. Honey and whipped cream. Evelyn Hill had been a master of creating unique foods and catering to her only daughter. Alice didn't know how she could ever choose one.

"How about a surprise, then?" Ramsey asked when she failed to respond. His question snapped her back from the sudden departure into memory.

"Sure. Sounds good." Alice slid into one of the chairs facing the cook surface as Weston began. He pulled a frying pan from a lower drawer and set it to heat on the automatic glass top. The ship was designed to be nearly autonomous, making all their meals and ensuring their survival and relative comfort without effort. He had to work to turn off the programs that misunderstood his motive.

"Were you dissatisfied with last night?" Ramsey asked, shattering the silence and calm that had occupied the space a moment before.

"Well, no, not-not dissatisfied. It's just, I think we need to talk about it," she finally managed.

"Alright, that's understandable. What would you like to know?"

Alice thought for several seconds, each question sailing through her mind with such speed that she struggled to latch onto a single one. Finally, she asked, "What did you mean when you said you didn't think I'd notice you? I mean, we're the only two people here. It would be pretty hard to miss you."

"I applied for this position knowing that I wasn't among the top candidates, and therefore, I would probably get passed over. When you chose me, it was like an act of fate or something."

"How so?" she asked conscious of her raised eyebrows.

"I've wanted this opportunity for so long, it's just a little unbelievable that we're actually here."

"Ships leave for intergalactic flight all the time. Sure, this one is longer and a bit more high-stakes than most, but it's not like you wouldn't have had any other opportunities."

"Alice, I meant I wanted the opportunity to be in flight with you." Somehow, Weston Ramsey managed to speak words that would stun others into silence, and he did it while looking straight at her while simultaneously mixing her favorite childhood meal in a large red bowl. If he didn't have her attention before, he certainly had it now.

"What? I mean...why? Why would you say that? What do I have to do with you getting a flight?" Aware she sounded suddenly drunk, she quit while she was ahead for the most part, instead staring open-mouthed at the man who somehow managed to single-handedly disarm her.

"I saw you give a presentation a few years ago. You were eloquent and beautiful with your dark curls and shy smile." Weston's eyes fell to the batter pouring into the pan as he spoke, a nostalgic smile illuminating his face. "I wanted to meet you, but right after, they rushed you out and I didn't get the chance."

"So?" Alice could guess how his story related to their current situation, but she couldn't voice the words. They were just too scary. Instead, she sat with her stomach tying itself in knots waiting for his response.

"I wanted to meet you, so I went back to my dorm and researched you. Already, you were a lead cryogenist in short flights and you were on your way to dominating the industry. Everyone knew you'd have the longer flights within a few years. So, I readjusted my schedule the last year to focus on intergalactic flights with more than a year flight time. It was pretty easy actually."

"You changed your major to meet me?" Alice didn't know whether to be completely creeped out or to be totally flattered. Part of her felt like he was coming from a good place with it; the other part felt like she needed to take a shower in bleach.

"Look, I'm not saying it right. It sounds really bad, but it's not." He set the edge of the pancake paddle on the frying pan and walked around the cooktop to stand next to her chair. "You're brave and strong and thoughtful in ways that others can't even comprehend. I knew there was a chance we might work together, a big chance, and I was willing to work to make it happen. I think you're worth it."

All the creepiness sailed right out of the room. Alice thought consciously about the breath moving in and out of her lungs for fear of letting his words really sink in.

"Alice, I worked really hard to be here and I will continue to work hard to please you. I just need you to give me a chance." She looked up at his impossible hazel eyes and surely fell in. There was no going back.

Weston leaned in slowly, but fast, too. Their lips crashed together like waves upon a jetty. Both her hands fell to cup his cheeks as he set his on her lower back and pulled her close to him. Only the smell of burning pancake broke them apart.

"Shit!" he said as he rounded the cooktop and hastily pulled the charred breakfast from the pan and deposited it into the trashcan. "I'll make you another one." She had to laugh that mere seconds of kissing had resulted in the loss.

"How do you know how to make these? I thought the ship was supposed to make all our meals." Food was a pretty loose concept in space, mostly artificial pastes with added nutrients.

"It is, and it will. But I knew you liked old-world stuff, so I looked up some things I could make." He deftly poured another circle of batter into the pan.