Worlds Apart Pt. 02

"Use your words, Liz."

"Don't stop," she hissed through gritted teeth. "It's feeling better the more you do it."

His eyes turned to her nipple, as engorged as he had ever seen it, standing up like a fleshy tent peg. As he gave it a slow lick, Liz loosed a sharp gasp, her spine rising from the sheets in a perfect arch.

"Ah!" she wailed, her cry tapering into a shuddering sigh.

"Fuck, is it really that sensitive?" Jamie asked.

"Mhmm," she mumbled, nodding her head.

"Do you want me to keep-"

"I said don't stop, didn't I?" she interrupted.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, pursing his lips around her nipple. It was so swollen that he felt like he was sucking on the tip of someone's finger. He slowly painted it with his tongue, being as careful as he could manage, abstaining from his usual pinching. Tremors rolled through Liz's toned body with every glance, her toes clawing at the sheets, her thighs pressed tightly together.

"Oh my God," she muttered, half a sigh and half a nervous giggle. "I've never felt like I could get off just from having you mess with my boobs before. It's like my whole body is a live wire."

"Maybe we should get you knocked up more often," he replied, pausing his mouthing for a moment.

"Don't tempt me," she added with a sultry chuckle, tapering off into a low moan as he returned his lips to the tender nub of flesh. He delighted in the way that she jumped and twitched as he circled it with his tongue, so much more responsive than usual, like a puppet dancing on the end of its strings.

He slid a hand down her belly, still taut and firm, feeling her chiseled abs twitch with anticipation as he neared her mound. As he slipped his fingers between her thighs, they began to shake, the lightest touch of his digits enough to make her buck. Jamie glanced down, seeing that her lips were swollen with arousal, her clitoris protruding from beneath its hood as though begging for his attention. The way that her slick juices made her loins gleam under the dim lights of their quarters made them look sore and needy.

"I guess this is that increased blood flow you mentioned," he muttered.

"I feel like I'm on fire," she grumbled, her breathing growing shallow as she glanced down at his hand. "Be gentle..."

Jamie lowered his hand, cupping her puffy loins, feeling their feverish heat against his palm. He applied just a little pressure, her clitoris pressing into his skin, Liz starting to shake again as he began to rub. She quickly began to grind against his hand, desperate for more stimulation. He dared to slide two fingers inside her, feeling the muscles in her depths grip him tightly, twitching around his digits. It really did feel like a live current was being run through her body. She couldn't keep still, even for a moment.

"F-fuck, Jamie," she growled. "Hurry up, g-get me off. I can't take much more of this."

He started to move his fingers, curling them against the roof of her spasming passage as he had done so many times. She responded far more strongly than she ever had before, sweat already coating her dusky skin in a shining layer, her hips bucking into the air as she tried to fuck his hand.

Liz had to bite her fist to stifle a cry as he returned his lips to her nipple, drawing it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as she dug herself deeper into the pile of blankets with her writhing. He mouthed and sucked, his hand moving between her thighs, Liz covering her face with her furry mitts as she lifted her butt from the deck with his every stroke.

"God," she mumbled, her voice muffled. "I'm c-close, k-keep it..." She could barely formulate a sentence, as though she had suddenly developed a stutter, her plea tapering off into an incoherent series of quiet yelps and groans.

Jamie upped his pace, feeling her drooling loins clench around his fingers, her contractions coming thick and fast. He rubbed the ball of his hand against the firm bud of her clitoris, his teasing circles sending her tumbling over the edge. It felt like her burning, sodden flesh was vibrating, her hips rising from the nest again as she fucked the air reflexively. Beads of sweat glistened as they welled on her skin, the taut muscles of her abdomen flexing with each tremor that rocked her, Liz reaching down to push his hand away as though the stimulation had suddenly become too much to stand.

He withdrew, a sagging strand of her juices dangling from his wet fingers, his heart racing as she watched the orgasm tear through her. Liz had never gotten off this quickly before, never this hard, not without building her up for a while first. Her athletic form was on display, her muscles bulging, the soft parts of her feminine figure quivering as her shuddering climax rolled over her in pitiless waves.

Panting, dripping with sweat and fluids, she finally collapsed into the sheets. She was exhausted, still trembling, her eyes unfocused as they stared vacantly at the ceiling above.

"Liz?" Jamie asked. "You good?"

"Feels better," she sighed, breaking out into a giddy grin. "So much better..."

"Are you still sore?"

"A little," she replied, starting to come around now. "But it's mostly gone now. Feels kind of like...loosening a knot during a back massage, y'know? It hurts, but it hurts...good."

"I've never seen you like this before," he chuckled, realizing that he was just as red in the face as she was. "Not even when we were horny teenagers."

"I guess it's the hormones making me crazy," she replied, giggling again. "If that's the case, then sanity is overrated."

***

Jamie and Liz found themselves in the Magellan's cargo bay during their search for more ingredients for one of Liz's recipes. The room extended up through two decks, the walls piled high with storage crates and cargo containers. Jamie felt like he was standing in some kind of warehouse or factory, craning his neck as he looked up at the ceiling high above. Unlike the rest of the ship, which had been designed to be relatively comfortable, there were no whitewashed walls or blue carpets here. It was all exposed metal and structural supports, the walls lined with gantries that were accessible from each deck, allowing the crew to reach the higher containers like some kind of industrial library. The floor was painted with yellow warning strips, presumably denoting where whatever machinery that would load and unload the cargo would operate. Some of these containers were far too big to fit inside the airlock, so Jamie surmised that the deck or perhaps one of the walls would open up to allow for larger objects to be passed through.

Bradley, the requisitions officer, was off in one corner of the bay. He was stacking some smaller crates by hand, unloading them from a wheeled cart. His job was managing the cargo on the ship and keeping track of their resources. If someone wanted something that wasn't in the kitchen or in one of the vending machines, they had to go through him.

"Hey, Bradley," Jamie called. The man turned to glance at them, wiping his brow on the sleeve of his coveralls.

"What brings you two down here?" he asked, Jamie still struggling to place his accent. It might be Australian, or maybe New Zealand.

"We've run out of baking dough," Liz replied.

"Baking dough?" he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. "Just how much baking have you been doing?"

"Enough to run out of baking dough," she replied with a grin.

"Alright, alright, I'll see what I can do. Just let me finish stacking these crates..."

Liz watched him, cocking her head, then made her way over to his side. She plucked the crate that he was holding from his hands, Bradley glancing up at her with a confused expression on his face as she placed it atop the pile.

"I got it," she chirped happily, lifting another from the cart.

"You really don't need to-"

"Nonsense, you look like you're about to collapse. Sit down, take a breather. I'll take care of it."

Bradley turned to Jamie, and he gave the confused req officer a shrug, the two of them watching as Liz finished up his work.

"Guess I'll go find you that dough," he said, making his way over to a computer console that was mounted on the wall. He tapped at the touch panel for a few moments, pulling up the manifest, scrolling through the list. "Here we go," he muttered, turning towards the nearest elevator. It was an open platform encircled by a railing for safety, just large enough to fit one of the bigger containers. It began to rise, bringing him to the upper deck, where he opened the doors to one of the shipping containers and stepped inside. Jamie could hear him rummaging around for a few moments, then he emerged with a cardboard box in his hands. After descending again, he handed it off to Liz.

"There should be enough there to last you a good while," he said, making a note of it on the manifest. "Just put it away in the kitchen somewhere."

"I'm making steak pie tonight," Liz announced, clasping the box under one arm. "I'm defrosting some of the beef from the freezer, and I'm making a gravy filling with mushrooms. I hope you'll drop by."

"Sounds good, but I'm probably going to be too busy tonight," he replied. "My shift is gonna have me working late. I'm still taking inventory of the stuff we picked up from Jarilo."

"But, you have to eat," Liz protested. "You can't just work yourself to exhaustion."

"I'm fine, really," he chuckled. "Just put some in the freezer for me, and I'll warm it up another time."

Liz seemed dissatisfied with his response, but she didn't press the issue.

***

The pie had been a hit, its remnants sitting in a mostly empty pan in the center of the table, only a few pastry crumbs and gravy stains left over. Liz seemed to have taken Jamie's advice to heart and had stopped foisting second and third helpings on the crew. She really seemed to be enjoying cooking for them, watching them eat with a satisfied expression on her face. As the low murmur of conversation filled the galley, she excused herself, moving over to the kitchen counter. Curious as to what she might be doing, Jamie rose from his seat, walking over to join her.

She had saved a slice of pie and was placing it inside a plastic container, along with a knife and fork. She sealed the lid, then noticed that she had an audience.

"It's for Bradley," she explained. "He's working so hard down in the cargo bay, I can't stand the thought of him going hungry."

"So, you packed him lunch?" Jamie chuckled. "He said it was fine to leave him a piece in the freezer, Liz."

"It won't taste as good reheated," she grumbled.

"Bradley isn't a kid who needs you to pack his lunches," he continued, leaning against the counter. "I'm pretty sure he's about thirty-five years old."

"I know, but..." She glanced over at the crew who were sitting around the table, her expression softening. "I dunno, I just don't like the thought of them missing a meal."

Jamie didn't intend to stop her. For all he knew, Bradley was going to appreciate the gesture. He decided to follow her down to the bay, curious to see how the man would react. As they entered the cavernous room, he called down to them from one of the higher catwalks, his voice echoing.

"Back already? You forget an ingredient or something?"

"I thought I'd bring you a slice of pie," Liz called back to him, brandishing the container. "It's still warm."

Bradley made his way down, Liz waiting there for him as the elevator ground to a stop. She handed him the box, and he popped the lid, the scent of steak and gravy banishing his skepticism.

"Uh...thanks," he said, glancing up at her as she beamed at him. "Guess it won't hurt to take a five-minute break."

He sat down on a nearby crate, Liz refusing to budge until she saw him take a bite. He lifted the fork, bringing a chunk of meat and pastry to his mouth, giving her a thumbs-up as he chewed.

"It's great," he mumbled over another mouthful. "Thanks."

Satisfied, Liz turned to the door, Jamie following behind her.

***

Liz fluffed a pillow before tossing it into the nest, then lowered herself into the mass of sheets and cushions. Before Jamie could even finish taking off his shirt, she hooked her tail around his waist like a furry lasso, guiding him into bed. He flopped down next to her, Liz rolling onto her side, draping a thick blanket over them. Her bare breasts spilled over his shoulders as she tugged him closer, giving him little choice other than to be her little spoon, her fuzzy tail coiling around one of his legs possessively.

"Guess your boobs aren't all that sore anymore," he said, Liz rewarding his comment with another tight squeeze.

"Thanks to all the extra attention you've been giving me, they're a lot better," she replied as she pushed her nose into his hair. She nuzzled affectionately, her warm breath blowing on his scalp.

"You're so cuddly lately," he murmured, the warmth of their little blanket fort already making him drowsy. "It reminds me of when you first moved in after you got back from Borealis."

"I just feel...handsy," she chuckled, the motion making her bosom wobble against the back of his head. "If I could get away with burying us in blankets and hibernating until we get back, I'd do it."

"More hormones?"

"I guess so," she conceded. "You know, Sousa told me to expect mood swings. He said that I might get irrationally angry or upset, that I might feel depressed, that I could go from laughing to sobbing in the space of a minute. But, so far, everything has been great. I don't want to jinx it," she added, hesitating for a moment. "But I feel...really good. Not that I didn't before, I just...y'know."

"That could still happen," Jamie warned. "I don't think it will, though. You've always been level-headed."

She hugged him tightly, exhaling a sigh into his mop of blonde hair.

***

By their third week on the Magellan, Liz was finally starting to show. She stood in front of the wall-length mirror in their quarters, dressed in only her shorts, her increasingly weighty breasts hanging free as she inspected her reflection. Her clawed hand ran across her previously flat belly, now sporting a subtle bump, Jamie admiring her changing figure from their nest.

"Can you see it?" she asked, turning sideways to give him a better view.

"Are you pushing it out?"

"No!" she protested, running her hand across her stomach again. "It's definitely visible, see?"

Jamie rose to his feet, making his way over to her. He extended a hand, tracing the contours of her abs, feeling a slight mound that hadn't been there before. If he didn't know better, he might have assumed that she'd just eaten too much.

"You should know," she added, giving him a smirk. "You're always staring at my tummy. Better enjoy it while you can."

"Yeah, I feel it," he replied. "It's like there's a little balloon inflating in there."

***

The more time passed, the more Liz's belly grew, until even the crew began to comment on her changing appearance. The bump was more pronounced now, visible even beneath her shirt.

They were sitting on the couch in the rec room one night, watching a movie with Jessie, who had finished her shift in the lab earlier that evening. Liz had been growing closer with the female members of the crew, and they had been showing more interest in her in turn. Perhaps it was something to do with Liz's pack instincts, or maybe it was just normal for women to congregate around their pregnant friends, Jamie wasn't sure.

"Can I touch it?" Jessie asked, eyeing Liz's prominent belly.

"Sure," Liz chuckled, lifting her shirt. She still didn't look traditionally pregnant, but it was very noticeable now. Jessie reached out to place her palm on the Borealan's stomach, Liz watching her with a warm smile on her face.

"Have you felt them moving around yet?" Jessie asked.

"I don't think they're developed enough to be moving much yet," Liz replied. "I think Doctor Sousa mentioned that I'd be able to feel them kicking some time in my second trimester."

"How do you feel?" Jessie wondered, glancing up at her.

"Good," she purred. "Much better than I expected. I've had a little morning sickness, some soreness, but that's about it."

"I'm a biochemist," Jessie continued, withdrawing her comparatively tiny hand. "I spend all day looking at chemical signatures, studying exotic forms of life under a microscope, so why does the idea of having something growing inside me weird me out so much?"

"Haven't you ever thought about it before?" Liz asked.

"I don't have a man in my life," Jessie replied, settling back into the couch. "Being out here all the time, the only options would be guys from the crew. Slim pickings," she added with a chuckle. "Besides, I like my job, I chose to be here. You can't start a family on a survey ship, and I don't want to put down roots. Not yet, at least. Maybe in the future, if I meet someone special. How did you know this was what you wanted?" she added. "Was there a watershed moment, or did it just kind of...happen?"

"It was something I'd been thinking about for a while," she explained. "The more time passed, the greater the urge became, until it was impossible to ignore. It got to the point that I couldn't help but bring it up. I think being exposed to my littermate's kittens back on Borealis had a lot to do with it."

"She got baby rabies," Jamie added, Liz covering his face with her furry hand to shut him up.

"It was a powerful preoccupation for me, I'll put it that way," she continued as Jamie struggled to free himself. "I think that when the time is right for you, you'll know it. If you want my advice, don't resist it, because it only gets stronger the more you try."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, seeming somehow relieved. The mere presence of a pregnant woman aboard had probably made a few of the crew members do a little self-reflection about where they were in their own lives and what they wanted for the future.

***

"Daryl said he saw you skulking around the bridge the other day," Jamie said, pausing the game he was playing on his phone as Liz entered the rec room. She flopped down onto the couch beside him, the dent that she made in the cushions making him slide towards her. "He seemed to think you were looking for him."

"I dunno if skulking is the right word," she mumbled.

"What were you doing?" Jamie asked. "It must have weirded him out if he felt the need to mention it."

"I just...like to know where the crew are," she explained. "I worry about them."

"You worry about them?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe it's a little crazy, but I just feel better if I know that they're safe."

"They're not going to get hurt, Liz," he chuckled. "I mean, maybe a crate could fall on Bradley, but I doubt anything else could happen on a ship like this."

"Oh, don't even say that," she gasped. "He'd be squashed like a grumpy little tomato."

"What makes you think they're gonna get hurt?" Jamie prodded, Liz's face warming.

"They're just so small and fragile..."

"You've been acting strange around them since we left Jarilo," Jamie continued, narrowing his eyes at her. It was an accusation made in good humor, Liz blushing as she waited for him to elaborate. "I think it's your hormones. They're making you protective, motherly. It's like your body is being primed for the babies. Think about it," he added. "Maybe an adult human is just small and frail enough in comparison to a Borealan to trigger your maternal instincts. We must be the size of children to you, right?"

She clearly wanted to argue, but it was undeniable, Liz covering her face with her furry hands.

"Oh, fuck," she began with a nervous giggle. "I feel like I'm going crazy. I'm gonna be honest, I want to just...pick them all up in my arms and pile them into a nest."