Alone in Outer Space, Then Along Comes a Hunky Chunky Space Warrior
My annual May the Fourth, Star Wars day, tribute.
Those solid white laminate chaps, boy, they get me every time. The warriors are the only ones who can pull off that white boots and black glove combo, too.
I’d been travelling alone across time and space for what seemed like an eternity. He’d been sent away, oh so long ago, on an extended solo search mission. Even though I knew he was the stereotypical bad boy, I was thrilled to see him.
Instructed to open the shuttle hatch, or he’d blast it open, I felt seriously tempted to let him try. The booby traps I had set up on my journey would take him out. But then more would follow and, besides, something about him just piqued my curiosity.
The temptation to see him close up took over.
He towered over me, wide shoulders. From his taut waistline, I knew he’d have a ripped as hell eight-pack beneath that uniform.
Ordering me back from the entrance, he marched in, ducking down to get through the hatch. I could have taken him out then. But the tightening of my nipples at his sound of his voice commands were too distracting. I stepped back, played coy.
Demanding to know where the defence field control panels were, I pointed him to my sleeping quarters. I know, my bad. Just couldn’t help myself.
If I was gonna get blasted into oblivion, I’d go out in style.
Like any soldier away from home, I guessed he’d be horny, lonely and up for, well, me.
When he ordered me to open the lockers, I bent over, showed him my fit-as-fuck pert ass wrapped in skin tight silicon. I hadn’t worn underwear since the rebellion started.
Was there even such a thing?
If so, it was most definitely surplus to requirements on a solo mission.
I planted my feet wide, pretended to struggle with the lock. His voice, his commands, distorted by the helmet, sent thrills up my inner thighs. I felt his eyes on me. OK, I admit it. I wiggled a bit too much, but fuck, I was horny and wanted to tease.
He moved forward, close enough to feel my heat, smell my scent. I stood straight, stepped back, pretended I didn’t know he was there. We touched. His protective uniform hard against my soft body.
He reached forward, stopped me from falling. I knew I risked being blasted, just one step from oblivion, but I let myself fall into him. He no doubt thought it was a distraction technique, which I guess it was.
His strong gloved hand gripped my waist, and I felt the warm air of breath through his helmet against my neck. His hand moved up to my breast, squeezed, and I knew I’d won.
I would have him.
I reached up, stroked his hard helmet, purred as he stroked his hand down past my stomach. He was surprisingly gentle, until he wasn’t. I’d heard they got dosed with extra hormones to bring out their aggression, but I didn’t want romancing. I wanted to see if their legendary sexual strength and staying power was just a myth.
He didn’t let me down.
He tore off my clothes. Weirdly, I let him without killing him, that’s a first. I did gasp in shock, relief and more than a bit of anticipation.
Fuck, he was horny as!
He spun me around, his chest now within biting distance. Not that I could bite through a rock hard chest plate, but you get the idea.
I looked down as he unclipped his protective jockstrap to reveal his massive bulge, held back, throbbing inside the black shiny fabric.
Unfastened, he scooped his legendary cock out, his fist wrapped around his length, dark, thick, and waiting for me. Legend verified.
Fuck me!
Without hesitation, he lifted me up, strength proven as he held me in a hover above his rock-hard rod.
Defying gravity, he held me there, looking in my eyes, or at least I think he was. His mask was quite opaque. He lowered me onto his hard cock. A guttural moan told me maybe they felt emotion after all.
He held me against his hard chest-guard, my arms wrapped around his neck.
I’d never fucked, or fought someone who I couldn’t look in the eyes. It felt strangely erotic, as if he’d been blindfolded and I had the power.
He soon reminded me of who exactly had the power as he rammed upwards over and over, filling me. My clit being rubbed raw by his root. I would not last long. Judging by his increase in speed, neither would he. Sweat ran between my breasts and caused a slick of sensual closeness to his solid, shiny breastplate. The feeling of his hard uniform alongside the skin-to-skin of cock and pussy was mind blowing.
He rammed into me once more, and we came together.
I screamed he did not.
What came next was a surprise, though. He cuddled me. I can’t describe it any other way. He held me to him and stayed still. His breath loud in my ear as he waited until I relaxed against him.
Then he lowered me so I could stand, legs trembling.
He tucked himself in, clipped his crotch protector back on, and left me. I heard the whoosh of the shuttle door as it closed. Placed my palm on the lock, knew I’d escaped capture one more time.
Why didn’t I feel like celebrating?
That was my annual May the Fourth, Star Wars day, tribute.
Something outside my wheelhouse. What’s a wheelhouse any way? And why would I want to be locked inside one?