Intergalactic Desire (2 page)

Chapter 3

Once Ester and Rocky emerged from their near instantaneous warp-jump it took Ester only another 2.395 seconds to realize something was horribly wrong.

“Holy shit,” she screamed, thick dark clouds rushing past their window canopy as the Stinger plunged through some turbulent alien atmosphere, “lower the dampers…” she yanked up on the control stick…
oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…
“Rocky, slow us down.”

Rocky flipped a switch and turned a knob. If the adjustments he made had any affect on their speed or stability it was not noticeable. Ester screamed again, “Rocky, gods dammit…”

“I did it,” he screamed back, the jostling of the ship and the whining scream of air filling the situation with even more tension, “but nothing’s happening.”

Suddenly, sparks and smoke from the consoles, then the controls went slack in Ester’s grip.
Son of a…

Powerless, the Stinger plunged through the clouds, nose down and slowly rotating around the weight of its propulsion generator as it fell. Ester tried a few switches, cursed and tried to reboot the system.

Nothing happened.

She punched the dashboard and then the canopy, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Behind her Rocky’s voice worked hard to sound calm, “We’re ejecting, right?” Below them he saw a break in the clouds and through it a distant expanse of red-brown. He repeated, “We’re ejecting soon, right?” His worry was no longer muffled.

The Stinger broke through the clouds before Ester could answer. What she saw left her speechless. An endless stretch of reddish brown. Dry. Dirt. Dust. Mountain ranges cut through the empty desert but little else. Mostly long barren wastes, a massive western plain stretching as far as their eyes could see.

The sky around them was tinted a dusty copper hue and above it, the faintly glowing grey wall of the cloud bank they just fell through. The turbulence settled and for a moment the surrealist quality of it all was transcendent.

It’s beautiful.
Ester was lost in the scenery, her breath frozen in her lungs, air whistling through the seals of the Stinger’s canopy…

Enough. Focus.
She snapped out of her daze and reached beside her seat. The manual eject lever jutted out from the frame. “Confirm ejection,” she said. She waited for Rocky’s reply but it did not come.
What the…?
She tapped the side of her helmet, “Rocky,” she said, “do you hear me?” No response.

Shit, now the com mics are fried too.
She turned as far as her safety harness would allow and gave Rocky a thumbs up. He patted her on the shoulder. She mimed ejecting, the Stinger crashing, the two of them floating blissfully in their parachutes. He patted her shoulder again.
Got it. Good to go.

She grabbed the eject lever again and waited, waited…
be patient, get closer, not yet, not yet…
the ground rushed up at them. It looked sharp and hard.

Rocky patted her shoulder again and she turned to look. He was pointing east at a large rock formation. She looked but wasn’t sure why.
Rocks. Dirt.
What’s that?

She wouldn’t worry about it too much for now. There were more important things to do. Things like pull the lever in ten, nine, eight, seven…

Chapter 4

The sunset was inconsequential. Barely noticeable. The grey day became slightly greyer and then slipped gracefully and silently to black. The wind and cold that accompanied the sunset were an entirely different matter.

Their entrance was dangerously noticeable.

Ester and Rocky huddled close to the small nano-fire unit and stared into the orange flames. The self-replicating and self-sustaining combustion kit emitted just enough light and heat to prove adequate against the biting cold.

Beyond the narrow cave mouth the wind growled, rushed past in monstrous rushes, shredding the planet’s surface with tiny rocks and grains of sharp sandy dust. Ester rocked compulsively, the movement helping her relax.

“There’s no way we would make it out there,” she told Rocky, “I still don’t know how in the hell you saw this from way up there, but thank the gods you did.”

“Well,” said Rocky, digging a second meal pack from his pack, “thank you for figuring out we can breath the air. That’s happy news, huh? No helmets make eating these,” he held two meal packages up, “much easier.”

Ester would have laughed if it hadn’t been too soon. “I didn’t know we could count the accidental cracking of my helmet’s visor on an uncharted alien planet ‘happy news’ but whatever.” She grabbed the pack out of his right hand: “
Meat Stew
.” “I guess we shouldn’t be too picky about any luck right now.”

Rocky shook his meal pack vigorously. It began to heat in his hands. Ester did the same, shaking the pack faster and harder, faster and harder.

Rocky smiled and leaned forward, “You do that pretty good.”

She recognized that sideways smile on her co-pilot’s face. Shaking her meal pack, the fast jerking motion of her arm…
pervert.
Then she smelled it. Sweet spicy cinnamon.
Oh shit. Pheromones. He’s beginning to have a pheromone attack.

Ester knew Falgan pheromones were potent and when they were triggered in concentrated doses they could be overwhelming.
I have to stop it. I have to slow him down.
She nervously laughed Rocky’s comment off, hoping to change subjects and pre-empt any sexual connotations.

“Fucking grow up,” she told him, “We almost died today, we’re stranded who knows where with no ship and no way out. You’re so clever, huh? Why don’t you figure out how to get away from here and back in the fight?”

The spark in his eyes grew into a blaze and she knew it was too late. She would have to ride it out. Rocky began to sweat, the intoxicating pungent aroma leaking from his pores and filling the cave. “Wow,” he said suggestively, unzipping his flight suit, “such poetry. You have a talented mouth.” He leaned closer to her, “What else can you do with it?”

She leaned away from him and tore the end of her meal pack open. “Keep your junk in your pants, Lieutenant,” she said, “or I can see a Falgan kabob in my near future. I can cut your cock up into what? Six, seven little pieces?”

Rocky chuckled and ate a large mouthful of food from his pack. He smiled, chewing methodically. “Nine and a half. Thick pieces, too,” he told her, adjusting the rising bulge in his flight pants.

Ester met his eyes. She blushed and quickly turned her head, adjusting her position on the cold stone ground, surprised by an unexpected warmth between her legs.
Relax, just keep your cool.
She should have expected this.

Sexual relations were multifaceted instruments on Falgan. They were part of the rituals and customs for pleasure, political, and social traditions.
Blame it on the pheromones.
Sex was a complicated tool for the Falgans but sometimes it was as simple as their general belief in comfort and pleasure, a healthy way to whittle away empty hours or stressful times.

Ester knew she could handle Rocky—he came onto her every couple of weeks when he was tired or stressed. She had become adept at deconstructing his advances and brushing off his touchy overtures with a joke and a friendly insult.
I just have to put him in his place and let him know I’m not interested.
That was generally easy enough. However, this was a different situation.

Rocky subtly edged himself toward her, the sweet scent of his skin strong in her nose. Laughing, she told him, “Easy on the advance, Napoleon, you might be spreading your troops a little thin.” She poured more of her food packet into her mouth, trying to remain neutral and disinterested.

Rocky came closer, only an inch away. His dark skin glistened like polished oak in the small flames of the nano-fire. His smell was strong and sweeter than usual.
His pheromones are really kicking in. It’s just the near-death thing.
She smiled, this time not turning away from the glint in his eyes.
All that built up adrenaline, that emotion. Irrational and pure.
Ester knew the science behind it, she knew the biological mechanics, but still…
he smells so good.
He looks so good.

“I’m not saying we should have sex,” Rocky said softly, his voice deep and caressing. Ester’s heart fluttered. She was unsure if it was because she did or did not want that particular option. Rocky leaned even closer, so she could feel his body heat on her flushed cheek, radiating from his flight suit. “I just think we need to be closer. Here. Now.” He brought his body to her, his hips touching hers. “Body heat,” he whispered, “aren’t you cold?”

She knew it was cold, near freezing, but right then she didn’t feel it. She felt flushed, her body feverish.
We shouldn’t
. She leaned her head on his shoulder.
I shouldn’t.
But she wanted too. She needed too.
It’s so cold and he’s…
This time she said nothing, just nestled her head deeper into his shoulder, inhaling him.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She watched his other hand adjust the large bulge in his pants and for a moment she wondered…
stop it, stop acting like another one of his fucking washroom whores…
she closed her eyes and counted softly to herself.
One, two, three…

Rocky unzipped his flight suit. “Here,” he offered, helping to guide her hand underneath his t-shirt and around his waist. Ester was now drunk on his pheromones, her head swimming with conflicting desires. Her fingertips brushed along the rough skin of his back as her hand went around him, finally settling on his hip.

His penis bucked in his pants.
It’s huge.
He fiddled with it, trying to shift it into a comfortable position but he couldn’t. Flustered, he grew serious, turning to Ester and admitting, “I’m sorry, I’m really trying to control myself but I…” he paused, too worked up to complete a full sentence.

“Do you smell that?” he asked, sniffing the air, his energy feeling wild to Ester.
He’s getting off on his own pheromones. He’s like a junky going crazy for a hit.
Sniffing the air, he pulled Ester against his muscular body and slid his hand over her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, it’s not usually like this but I need…” his other hand pushed against his throbbing tool as Ester offered slight resistance to his groping. “… I think it’s the air, the crash, the adrenaline,” he met her eyes, “but I’m going crazy.” There was a desperate sadness behind his gaze and Ester knew he was telling the truth. This wasn’t just a ploy. “I need to come,” he told her, “I need to burn this out, ya know? Like almost medically.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. She believed him. She was sympathetic but stood her ground. “No sex,” she told him, “you’re keeping that beast away from me.”

He smiled and Ester felt something in her heart break and drift away.
Tears.
There were hints of tears in his dark eyes. “I know,” he told her, “I promise but I want…” he made sure she could understand his seriousness, “I need to do it. I’m going to do it myself, okay? I’ll turn away if you want but I…” he grunted and squeezed his cock hard… “I need to do it, I need to…” he pulled it out and began to rub it. He promised to turn away but he didn’t. Ester watched him frozen and silent.

His penis was nine inches and thick. Dark brown and smooth with an even darker, bulbous head. He gripped the base of the shaft and began to give tiny strokes, tiny strokes, again and again and again.

He looked into Ester’s eyes, traced her face down, her chin, her neck, the curve of her shoulders disappearing beneath her flight suit. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, stroking himself harder, “I want to fuck you, you know that, right?” She watched him masturbate, her heart beating fast, her breaths short with excitement.

She squirmed a little, feeling herself get wet. She pressed her thighs together tight. “Just finish your business,” she said. His scent filled the air between them and Ester felt high.
Just get it over with before…

He grabbed the arm she had wrapped around his back and placed it on his thigh. He began to rub himself with it. She resisted, pulled it away, but he begged, “Please, you don’t have to touch my cock, I swear, but just touch me anywhere, my legs, my arms, I can do it faster if you help.” He shivered and stroked, “If you touch…” he mewled and glared at her, beating it, pounding it.

Her brain swam in electric nectar. Floating radiant. Hypnotized by the feel of his leathery skin, by his low breathy moans, by his unashamed self-satisfaction. She watched how he worked his body, alternating between hard, fast strokes and softer, long strokes. Like a dream, Ester realized that she was touching him too, rubbing his thigh, moving her hand closer and closer to his shaft with each caress.

Her other hand, much to her amazement, was on herself, rubbing her own wet mound. Her pants were unzipped, spread open like her legs, her fingers under her underwear, rubbing her clit, moving lightly over the curves of her slick lips.

I want it…
she watched Rocky with hunger in her eyes, watched him stroke his cock again and again, his other hand now inside her flight suit squeezing her breast…
I want it inside…

She plunged a finger inside, felt a shock release up her spine. “Fuck me,” she told him, “fuck me hard,” she moved her hand fast, peaking… “Fu…” she reached the edge and screamed, her body quivering and pressing against Rocky’s busy arm.

Her orgasmic thrashing was the fuel Rocky needed to finish. He grabbed her shaking hands and gripped them around the middle of his cock, squeezing her hands in his. His head tilted back and he tensed a moment before releasing into the cool night air. Ester stroked him as he came, large jets shot to the stone and puddled. His cock bucked in her hands. She was amazed by its strength.

She stroked until he could take it no longer, over-sensitive, tingling, the last of his spasms ebbing with each slow breath. She let him go and pulled up her panties.
Holy…
she pulled up her flight suit pants and zipped them…
shit.