Surviving a Crash.
Based on the post by x sociate23, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.
As Cadet Cockman regained consciousness, he became aware of two things: the throbbing in his temples and the acrid smell that stung his nose and throat. His blurry vision gradually focused to look about the dimly light cabin. Red emergency lights slowly strobed overhead, bathing the interior in silent pulses of crimson like the inside of a gigantic beating heart. The instrument panel was dead, the viewport a blank oval.
Memories of the crash began to surface. The red-hot flames of reentry, the flaring of the landing jets, the rushing up of the ground. His hands still felt the heavy shuddering of the yoke, his ears still heard the terrible sounds of rending and tearing metal as they struck. Despite his best efforts, they had come in too fast and at too sharp an angle. The last thing he recalled before darkness was the lieutenant reaching to hold his hand.
He turned his head and pain shot up his neck. His whole spine felt compressed from the violent bouncing as their ship had skipped like a stone. The Venusian was unconscious, her head flopped forward. The loose strands of purple that hide her face were turned an eerie black and he couldn't tell if she was breathing. When he took a deep breath of his own, he began violently coughing.
All at once his mind realized the danger. The smell was the fire suppression system, designed to prevent the rocket from blowing up in the event of a crash. He had to get them out of there, the gas could be lethal if breathed in for too long.
Slapping his harness release, he stood up wearily. His body ached, particularly the areas where the straps had covered him. He released LuNar from her seat and lifted her small frame over his shoulder. Her body was limp but still warm. He hoped it was a good sign as he carried her to the exit, snatching an Aid kit from the wall with his free hand, the other wrapped around her slender thighs.
Lifting the cover, he punched the emergency hatch button, air hissing as the door fell open. Harsh sunlight streaked inside, forcing him to shield his eyes. He clamored through the hatch with his burden and stood on a raise mound of dirt to look around.
They were in the middle of a green rolling plain, the undulating hills carpeted with waist high savannah grasses and dotting with scraggily trees here and there. The hot sun of CarterD2007 burned overhead as Cockman looked towards the direction they had come in from. A huge groove was dug into the dark earth, stretching for hundreds of feet towards the horizon. Small brush fires burned and smoldered, trees along the giant runt were sheared in half by tritanium wings. Parts of the ship littered the ground, their shiny metal surfaces glinting in the sunlight.
He spotted a small clump of trees about fifty meters away. They looked as good a place as any, so he moved towards them at a brisk pace, careful not to jostle the girl in his arms too much. They needed a place to wait, not only for the suppression gas to dissipate but also due to the still slight risk of explosion. He found a clearing under one of the trees, its coniferous leaves shielding the blistering sun.
He lay LuNar down gently, supporting her head. Unzipping her tunic, he felt for a pulse at the neck. There was no pulse. Panic gripped him as he remembered he'd barely passed his Venusian Anatomy course. Taking a chance, he placed his ear to her upper left tit, his face turned away from hers. He relaxed as he was rewarded with the rhythmic thump of her heartbeat as well as her shallow but steady breathing. He also couldn't help but notice how soft her tit felt against his cheek.
"Cadet Cockman?!"
Her shout resounded through his skull as his head jerked up. She had an appalled look on her face.
"I-I-I was checking your heart!" he stammered, leaning away from her chest as she sat up.
"I bet you were," she said hotly, eying his crotch with a look of suspicion in her eyes. He looked down and to his dismay found his fly was open. She curtly zipped up her top and seemed to swoon. He noticed a cut on her forehead, a bead of greenish blood trickling down. She attempted to stand but he placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.
"Easy, Lieutenant, Easy."
"I am not easy!" she howled, slapping his hand away. First the boob thing, now this. He only seemed to be making her more and more angry.
'Perhaps Venusians don't like to be touched,' he wondered to himself. But she needed medical attention, cultural differences be damned.
"Ma'am, you're hurt, let me help you," he pleaded, reaching into the Aid kit for antiseptic and gauze. She eyed him warily but at last relented. He delicately dabbed at the cut. It wasn't very deep so she wouldn't need sutures. He removed the backing from a plastic-bandage and gingerly placed it over the cut.
"There, all better," he said, looking her in the eyes. Again, she seemed to calm down immediately as she spoke.
"Now it is your turn."
"What?"
She gestured to his left arm. There was a large tear in the uniform across the bicep, the edges already soaked through with blood. He'd been so worried about her that he hadn't even realized he was injured. He realized it now, though, as he painfully removed his tunic, peeling the sticky sleeve away from the wound. The gash was deep but thankfully the blood had already clotted. Lieutenant LuNar dabbed at it with the antiseptic cloth. It hurt like the devil and he reflexively jerked away.
"Hold still," she commanded, gripping the elbow.
"Sorry, it just hurts," he whined.
"Don't be such a chimNar," she scolded.
"What's a chimNar?"
"I believe you Terrans call it an in-fant," she stated as she cleaned up his arm. The offended Earthling scowled as he watched her deft fingers apply auto-sutures, wincing as they pulled the wound tightly shut. She sprayed the area with liqui-seal and wrapped the arm in an elastic compress. Lastly, she injected a dose of Omni-biotic into his deltoid with a hypo-spray, giving herself a dose in the neck for good measure.
"Where'd you learn the Nurse Nightingale routine?" he wondered aloud, flexing the arm. The painkillers were already working.
"I was first in my field medic class at the Academy," she said proudly, puffing up her chest. Cockman had to restrain his eyes from flickering to the movement.
"Well, thanks for the patch up."
"So I take it we crashed?" she asked, seemingly ignoring his gratitude.
'Damn, not even so much as a thank you,' he thought ruefully, 'Stuck up much, lady?'
"Unfortunately, Ma'am," he answered as he stood up, replacing his tunic but leaving it unzipped. He then helped her to her feet, "It should be alright to head back for supplies."
They moved towards the downed craft, Cockman in the lead. As they came closer, LuNar stopped suddenly, staring towards the cockpit. Thinking she had seen something; he followed her gaze and it took him a moment to realize she was staring with loathing at the Pinup portrait. It was another survivor, her scantily clad blue skin nearly free of blemishes.
At last, LuNar huffed, held her head high and stoically strode past Cockman and into the ship. The Earthman cast one last glance at the vulgar Venusian before he too boarded.
Feeling Terrible
They spent the rest of the day, which the records they had consulted before the crash said were approximately twenty-six Earth hours, salvaging what supplies they could. The HAB unit was first and was thankfully pretty idiot-proof. It was a self-contained unit that with the simple push of a button would unfurl into a plasticine igloo twenty feet in diameter. They cleared a space for it near the ship and filled it with other essentials. Rations, sleep sleeves, inflatable mattresses, a couple of Zapper pistols, an AC/heat unit; all of it found a home in the small space. The last thing Cockman brought in was a portable, battery powered sub-space radio.
With their shelter secure, the next issue was finding a source of water. Luckily, a scout of the area found a pond nearby and a spectro-analysis found the water potable. The pair bedded down for the night, thoroughly exhausted.
Eza awoke the next morning feeling terrible, her body aching and throat irritated from the suppressive gas they'd breathed the day before. She lay on her bunk, staring at the ceiling as she thought about the strange dream she'd had. She could not recall the specifics except that it had involved Cadet Cockman and was very pleasant. She looked over at his bunk and became concerned when she saw he was not there, his sleep sleeve neatly rolled up.
'Why did he not tell me he was leaving the HAB,' she wondered. It was protocol after all. She saw that he had taken one of the Zapper pistols and she rose to strap the bulbous pistol in a holster that hung low on her wide hips. She walked out into the bright morning sunlight which was already heating up the landscape considerably.
She spotted him elbows deep in the manifold of the ship. He appeared to have been up for hours working and as he stood erect, Eza noticed that he was shirtless. His well-defined muscles rippled and flexed as his stretched, absently scratching at his wounded arm. She suddenly felt flush as he bent over once more, his ass shifting in the tight confines of his trousers. Realizing she was staring, she turned away to head back inside when all at once she saw it.
Where once had been a disgraceful depiction of a half-naked Venusian was now a large swath of black paint. He had taken the time out to cover the offensive image. Her gaze fell upon him and the rush hit her once more. It was a deep, primal, carnal sensation.
'No, not now. Not him,' she thought with a mix of excitement and distress. Her breathing grew laborious as she watched him, a fire beginning to smolder in her core. She fought down the urge as she watched him lay down on his back under the canopy, sweat dribbling down the channels of his chest and abs.
He noticed her and waved. Her breath caught in her throat as the wave surged through her, threatening to overwhelm her. She darted back inside, leaning heavily against the interior wall, trying desperately to clamp down on the urge, her loins ablaze. She had felt this before but now it was much more intense. She had to be careful or he might find out.
Rations
Cadet Cockman was getting the distinct impression that Lieutenant LuNar was ignoring him. Truth be told she was but not for the reason he was thinking. They had spent their second day on planet separately. He busied himself with work on the ship while she had stayed in the HAB, reading her holopad which had also survived the crash.
Now it was evening, and they sat on their bunks eating their assigned rations. Cockman shoveled another spoonful of glop into his mouth that the label claimed was tuna noodle surprise, the surprise being it was moderately palatable despite looking like Martian yak barf. LuNar, meanwhile, was eating what looked like split-pea soup out of a collapsible, self-heating bowl. She had her back to him, just like she had done each time he was in the room with her. He was starting to feel like he had committed some egregious intergalactic faux pas when she finally put down her bowl and turned to him.
"Cadet, I wish to apologize for my behavior yesterday. You were only trying to help, and I should not have gotten angry with you."
"Think nothing of it, Ma'am," he replied, swallowing another bit of mystery meat, "But in the interests of avoiding a repeat, might I ask what it was I said or did that upset you?"
"It was not you, it was me. I should not let some stupid nickname both..."
She looked away as if suddenly realizing she'd said too much. Now his interest was thoroughly piqued.
"Nickname, Ma'am?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. He heard her sigh, the tone sounding like a violin string.
"It is from my Academy days. During my sophomore year, a Terran boy wished to court me, but I had politely declined. He then spread the rumor that Venusian females are promiscuous. So, they started to call me Easy LuNar."
Cockman frowned sympathetically. He understood where she was coming from, with a name like Cockman, you learn to expect the dick jokes. He also felt sorry for her. She was an intelligent, dedicated, not to mention exceedingly beautiful woman and did not deserve the ridicule of some callous, sex-hungry asshole.
"I think Eza is a nice name," he said and found he genuinely meant it.
"Thank you, Cadet."
"Curt. Just call me Curt."
"Okay, Kurt," she trilled. Then she smiled for the first time and his heart seemed to skip a beat at the sight. The smile widened as she added, "I think that is a nice name as well."
Staring at the Holopad
On the morning of the fifth day, Curt awoke to find Eza sitting up in her bed and staring at her holopad with a look of sadness on her blue face. There were tears in her eyes and when she noticed him watching, she hurriedly put away the pad. She turned to wipe away the tears, explaining that she was just not feeling well that day as she headed outside intent upon some nonsensical errand. For some reason the excuse worried him, namely because he knew that Venusians rarely, if ever, got sick.
While she was away, Curt stole a peek at her holopad. It was wrong for him to pry into her personal life, but they were in this together. To survive, they both needed to be at the top of their game, not bogged down in depression. Yet what he found now left him feeling hollow. There on the screen, just as she had left it, was the image of a handsome blue skinned Venusian male.
'Her lover,' he surmised, feeling a pang of jealously but immediately chiding himself for it. It made no sense for him to feel that way since he barely knew her and yet the feeling was still there. He also realized his first impressions of her had been all wrong. She wasn't some uptight, bossy, know it all. She was a vibrant, feeling woman and she was homesick.
Looking again at the picture, he suddenly felt the need to make her feel better about their predicament.
She avoided him most of that day and it wasn't until that evening when she sat staring at her holopad once more that he saw his opening. He spoke up, trying not to sound too gruff and unfeeling.
"You miss your family, huh?" he asked. She seemed hesitant to respond. Perhaps it was another Venusian taboo.
"Yes," she said at last, sighing.
"Anyone in particular?" he asked, secretly dreading the answer.
"My brother, Edrin," she said, showing him the picture. She was curious about the seeming look of relief on the Earthling's face.
"Don't worry, we will get you home to him," he assured her.
"Yes, but not in time."
"In time for what?"
"My hatch date."
"Is that anything like a birthday?"
"Yes," she said, suddenly remembering that unlike her kind, Terrans gave live birth.
"When is it?"
"Tomorrow."
"Is it wrong for me to ask how old you'll be?"
"Not at all. Let me think...Venus has a shorter yagra," she said, using the Venusian equivalent for years, "So, eighteen Earth years."
Curt was dumbfounded. She seemed so mature, was even a higher rank than him and yet she was barely legal. A thought also occurred to him, but he kept it to himself. He already had everything he needed for it.
"Well, if it's any consolation, I'd like to wish you a Happy Hatch date."
"Thank you, Kurt," she replied, once more tripping over his name.
He waited until she fell asleep, then set about on his self-imposed task.
The next morning, Eza awoke, feeling depressed knowing that today was her hatch date but that she could not be with her family to celebrate. She especially missed her broodmate, Edrin. As she sat up, she felt her hand brush something hard. She was surprised when she saw what lay on her bed.
It was a wood burned etching of Edrin on a piece of stiff bark. The likeness was decent for free hand and she realized with amazement that Curt must have spent all night long on it with only a laser bolt remover to work it. She looked over at him on his bunk.
The morning sunlight shone down through the skylight of the dome, alighting upon his handsome face as he slept and she smiled as the stirring swelled once more within her. She realized with satisfaction that she was no longer averse to the feeling.
She wanted him.
Customs and Practices
There seemed to be a shift in their dynamic. No longer were they superior and subordinate. They treated each other as equals, though they kept to themselves for the most part. Eza also seemed out of her funk, literally letting her hair down. She began wearing it unencumbered, the long purple locks cascading down in loose ribbons and curls. The change only added to her alien beauty and Curt was finding it harder and harder to concentrate when she was around.
Just like now. It was the heat of the day, and he was trying to nap on his bunk. Try as he might, though, he just couldn't help glancing her way every few minutes. She sat on her bunk with her back to him, her feet tucked under her bottom. He could still see her face in profile, the text on the holopad in her lap reflected in her deep green eyes. A smile threatened to curl the edges of her lips. He stared at her hair, imagining running his fingers through it as he kissed her dark, ripe mouth. His eyes traced the sinuous curves of her back, settling on the round bulge of her ass. Her hand seemed to tremble as her fingers scrolled the text. He'd had enough, his curiosity aroused more so than his manhood.
"Okay, I gotta ask," he said, rolling his feet to the plasticine floor, "What are you reading that has you so captivated?"
Her hand stopped mid-scroll.
'Should I tell him the truth?', she wondered. Surely it would change his opinion of her to know she was reading such lascivious reading material. It might even make him stop broadcasting, something which she desperately did not want. Perhaps a half-truth was in order?
"If you must know," she said, not turning to look at him for doing so only made the reception stronger, "I am reading up on Earth customs and practices."
"Ah," came his reply behind her. He seemed placated by her answer for he asked no follow-up. Her curiosity, however, got the better of her.
"Kurt?"
"Yes?"
"You are a typical Terran, are you not?"
"Last time I looked in the mirror."
"May I ask you some questions?" she queried, finally turning to face him for she knew that Terrans found it rude to address someone's back. She suppressed the sudden urges as best she could.
"Fire when ready, Grindley." He smiled and she looked away. That damned smile would be trouble.
"I am having difficulty understanding certain Earth practices," she explained.
"Such as?"
She turned to look at him again, her eyes falling to his full, pink lips as she spoke.
"What is the purpose of the activity called kissing?"
Curt was taken aback. He had thought she would ask some mundane question, but she had literally gone right for the kisser. He squirmed uncomfortably, his manhood sensing a subject his mind did not wish to luxuriate in.
"Well, for Terrans, kissing is a sign of affection. Don't Venusians kiss?"
"We do not," she said flatly, and he felt it was a travesty with lips as kissable as hers.
"What do you do then?"
"We merely copulate, the male inserts his phallus into our Virginia -,"
"Vagina," he corrected with a chuckle.
"Yes, that word. Then thirty seconds later, the male releases his spermatoid and that is that," she said as casually as if giving an anatomy lesson.
"Hold the vidphone," he interrupted, "You mean to tell me that Venusians only have sex for thirty seconds at a time?"
"Is that not how it is with Terrans?" The texts she had red were not clear of the subject.
"Only those that don't know how to last. Often humans have sex for hours at a time."
'Hours?!' she thought, eyes widening in disbelief. It was her turn to squirm as she asked, "Why on Venus would they do that?"
"Well, for humans, sex is for more than just procreation. We also do it to please the one's we are with."
"It is just a hard concept to take in," she said, looking down bashfully.
"It is if you know what you're doing," he quipped, hoping she wouldn't catch his lewd joke as he glanced at her tits.
"But I've never..." she started to say as she turned back to him, but the surprised look he gave made her feel both self-conscious and aroused.
"Back to the subject of kissing," she was saying while at same time avoiding his eyes, "I just do not see the appeal."
That wasn't technically true. Although the concept was alien to her, she found she was also highly intrigued by the idea.
"Don't knock it till you try it," he retorted smugly.
"Then I wish to try it," she said, briskly standing up. What was she doing? Were the urges that strong that they were taking control of her faculties, she wondered. And what would he say? She was both terrified and anxious to learn his answer.
The Earthman's mind was spinning like Sputnik. She had just asked him to do something he'd been dying to do ever since he had first held her on the stairs. But now he was scared dumb. He suddenly felt very small, her petite frame seeming to tower over him now.
"W-what?" he gulped.
"I wish you to demonstrate this kissing." Eza's heart pump was pounding in her tit.
"Um, I don't really know if we should," he replied as he too stood up.
"Is there something wrong with my request?" she asked, stepping forward. Her body moved seemingly of its own volition, the urges compelling it forward. He backed away like a cornered animal.
"N-no, not per se. It's just that I...I mean we...That is to say you..."
She stopped. Had she been wrong? Was what she had been feeling not the truth? A pained look came to her pretty face as she softly said, "You do not find me attractive enough."
"No!, God, no! It's not that at all. To be perfectly honest, I find you very beautiful."
Eza felt another rush and had to clench her fists to keep her hands from trembling.
"Then, will you?" she asked in a near whisper. 'By the Gods of Yer, please say yes!' she thought as she saw him lick his lips uncertainly.
Curt stared into her eyes. They twinkled with something he couldn't quite describe. Whatever it was though, was mesmerizing.
"Alright," he said at last, unable to look away.
He approached her cautiously as if afraid she would sprout wings and fly away. She felt as if she were being stalked by a jungle cat on the mud plains of her home world. She was staring into his eyes as his lips descended to hers. At first, she kept her eyes open but then closed them upon feeling a wave of heat flash to her core.
A Mark V rocket exploded in Curt's brain. Her blue lips were the softest and most supple he had ever felt before. They had a slightly metallic taste that was not altogether unpleasant and made his lips tingle, heightening the experience. While he did not wish her first Earth kiss to be a static, lips pressed together affair, he also did not wish to violate the poor girl by trying to slip her some tongue. So he settled for middle ground, working his lips on hers in gentle kissing motions. She soon followed suit, her lips squirming against his.
Though he had not intended to do so, his hands sought the curve of her waist, pulling her closer. Her hands, meanwhile, slid their way up to his chest. She felt a tightness in her center as her fingers rubbed his strong pectorals through his tunic. At last, he withdrew his lips. She stood there in his arms, lips still puckered, and eyes still closed.
"You can open your eyes now," he said with a grin. Her eyes shot open and locked with his, the pupils dilating nearly as wide as the green gold iris. Her breath was shallow, whispery. He smiled wider and the knot in her insides tightened almost to the point of pain. She couldn't take it, she had to get away from him, to escape the sensations. She had to put distance between them.
She pulled away from him, covering her face and running from the HAB as if he had just told her some gut-wrenching news.
He stood flabbergasted. That was not the typical response he got from kissing a woman. Had it really been that bad that she had fled from him like he'd had Centaurian measles? It pained him to think that her first experience of that wonderful Earth custom had been unpleasant. He followed after her, found her under a tree, the same he had taken her to after the crash.
Her back was to him, her shoulder pressed against the trunk, her hands still cupping her face. Her body seemed racked by spasms as if she were quietly sobbing. He started to speak but the sound of his voice only seemed to send her into further convulsions. Turning away, he hung his head, feeling as if he had let down his whole species.
His thoughts were fuming by the time he crawled into the ship, closing the hatch behind him. He needed to be alone, needed to not think about her. He felt his way to the cockpit, turning on a portable light so he could fiddle with the breaker panel under the dash. His mind, however, kept reliving the kiss. It had been textbook, a near perfect example of Terran lip locking. He knew he was a good kisser; many a woman had praised his pouty prowess.
'What does she know anyhow,' he thought, 'Just a stuck up, blue skin prude.'
Nonetheless, he realized he was rock hard.
'She may be stuck up, but she's also the hottest thing this side of Alpha Centauri,' he told himself. He closed his eyes, releasing his swollen manhood. He began to jack off as he thought of the softness of her lips, the tingly taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against him. His breath came quicker as he stroked faster.
Eza bent double as the sensations overwhelmed her. The urge was so intense now that she had to do something, anything for relief. It was like an itch needing to be scratched and she knew of only one remedy.
Had he not been busy stroking his cock inside the ship, Curt would have seen Eza's hand slide down the front of her pants. He would have seen her writhing against the tree as he stroked himself faster. Lastly, he would have witnessed her back arching, her white teeth biting her lower lip as she stifled a moan just as he climaxed all over the instrument panel.
A Cocktease
Frustration had set in for Cadet Cockman. Work on the X-23 had stalled. He'd managed to get main power back online but there was very little he could do for the engines without access to a machine shop. The star that was CarterD2007 wasn't helping the situation, its undependable output now cooking their little village mercilessly. He had taken to going shirtless, even at night, the strong UV rays rewarding him with a nice bronze sheen that highlighted the contours of his muscles.
Eza was more in her element with the increase in temperature which made sense given her species came from a hot world. Even still she chose to modify her uniform, ostensibly to cope with the excess heat but he questioned the validity of that. For whether intentional or not, she had become even more of a cocktease; cutting down her trousers into a pair of rather cheeky shorts. Not that he truly minded. The chick had a great set of gams, the bands of dark blue scales along the sides adding to rather than detracting from their supple appeal.
The Venusian seemed to have also gotten over whatever objection she had had to their kiss. All the same, he felt it was best to not broach the subject anymore. Better to chalk it up to a loss and move on.
Try as he might, though, he just couldn't keep his mind off of her. It was like she was pervading every waking, and especially unawake, thought he had. Even now, as he was prying with all his might at the deflector plate on number two, she was there.
"Bend you sumbitch," he growled as his muscles strained. Rather than bending, though, the plate broke off at the hinge. He fell backward into the overly dry dirt, motes of dust swirling up to coat his sweat drenched body. He cursed, hurling the plate into the tall grass. The blazing sun beat down upon him.
As he sat stewing, thoughts of Eza once more invaded his mind. These in turn brought to him the realization that he hadn't seen her for a while but then he remembered she had said something about going to the pond to cool off. He pictured her in a red string bikini and smiled, dusting himself off as he headed to find it wayward co-pilot.
The pond was not far off, situated in a little hollow surrounded by stands of what could have been oak trees had this been Earth. Birds or at least similar creatures, though scaled, chittered in the branches overhead as he walked. He was absently thinking about how to fix the broken deflectors when he rounded at large tree, the idyllic waters of the pond coming into view. Hung with care from a limb were Eza's clothes but she was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, her blue and purple head broke the glassy surface and he jumped back behind the tree. Cautiously he peered.
Though the water was remarkably clear, the refraction and ripples as she swam distorted the image of her submerged body. The clarity did, however, reveal that she was skinny dipping. A wave of guilt for spying on her washed over him but he also couldn't help the surge of heat to his nether region. He was about to turn away when she stood up.
Rivulets of water cascaded down her supple body, his jaw following them to the ground, hitting his rapidly swelling cock on the way. She was the most gorgeous female of any species he had ever laid eyes on.
Stopping at the water's edge, she leaned her head back to squeeze water from her darkly wetted hair. The motion caused her glorious tits to tilt skyward, shimmering like round pools in the sunlight. Her hardened nipples protruded from areolas that were as dark and plump as blueberries. There was a tuft of purple hair just above the vee of her sex. He noted that the scales did indeed go all the way up, running across her hips and up her sides. They were also present, though to a lesser degree, along the ridge of her shoulders and the outside of her arms. These alien features only seemed to accentuate the areas that looked very much like a human female.
By now his achingly hard cock was begging for attention and quietly he unzipped his trousers. His manhood sprang free like a coiled spring. He slowly began to stroke himself as he watched Eza retrieve a towel from the limb, turning her equally lovely backside towards him. His paced quickened as he watched her lay down on a lush mat of green to sun herself, her legs together and pointed his direction. Straining his eyes, he could just barely see the outline of her sex in the shadow between her thighs. His eyes drank in every inch of her cerulean flesh.
Eza felt it again, the tightness, the pangs, the cravings. But no longer was she afraid to give in, to succumb, to quench the fire that both burned and drowned her. Her legs spread, bending at the knees as her webbed hand reached down, her smooth fingers rubbing the tender flesh of her slit. She felt another surge, moaning loudly as two of her digits slipped inside.
Curt was dumbstruck. Prim and proper little Lieutenant Eza LuNar was masturbating! He had to hold back his climax from the sheer thought of it as he watched her fingers work her dark slit. From this distance he could see that her inner lips had a tinge of lavender. He began stroking himself in time with her thrusting fingers, imagining they were his cock spreading that beautifully dark flower. Before long he was jacking faster and she seemed to be keeping pace with him, her fingers stabbing into her. She was moaning over and over, one had on her sex, the other cupping and squeezing her tits. At last, she tilted her head, lifting one of her delicious blue tits to her lips. A dark, six-inch forked tongue whipped out, coiling around the areola as her equally dark lips latched onto it.
That did it. Curt's eyes clamped shut, his hand tightening around his cock at it began to spurt. His ears heard Eza's cries of ecstasy, heightening his release as she too seemed to find hers. The two denizens of the Sol system came down from their near simultaneous climax, Curt breathing hard while Eza lay there spent, her fingers idly rubbing her slit as she cooed like a music box.
Putting away his manhood, Curt cast one last look back before slinking off to camp.
Twenty minutes later, Eza was nearing the crash site when she again felt the sensations. They weren't as intense, as if temporarily sated.
Curt was sitting by the ship with what looked like a power invertor in his hands. She watched the tanned vee of his torso flex.
"How was your swim?" he asked, not turning.
"Wonderful! You should join me next time."
She suddenly felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to feel his flesh under her phalange tips. As she passed him, she ran a finger across the ridge of his shoulders. She felt a tingle of lust as she impulsively licked them clean.
The way she had phrase her statement, not to mention the playful touch, had Curt's mind spinning in light of what he had surreptitiously seen. Had she seen him watching? Was this a come-on? Did this exotic alien beauty want some Cockman in her crevice or was his sex deprived mind just overthinking what could be a harmless gesture?
He stared at her retreating form, watching her hips sway as she made her way towards the HAB. Her hands were outstretched, brushing the tall grass along the path as she moved, humming some unknown melody to herself.
'If nothing else', he thought, 'That finger banging sure pulled the stick out.'
Now the question remained whether she wanted it replaced with something else.
To be continued in part 3, based on a post by x sociate23, for Literotica.