Jackie's lonely deep-space post enjoys delicious company.
Based on a post by Alizzia. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Jackie awoke to a twinkling, navy-blue night. She lay still, perceived the idle murmer of gulls and surf, the sweet air, the soft and runny sand against her back. With every little rush of the surf, a liquid touch caressed her. Startlingly chill. Goosebumps prickled her naked form. She pulled a long, resuscitating breath, sat up.
She nearly gasped.
Out on the surf, submerged to the dimpled saddle of his hips, stood a bare and strapping figure. Head tipped to the moon, he raised and clasped corded hands, stretched. He twisted, hummed as he arched the broad, inverted triangle of his lats. Yawning luxuriantly, he turned, dropped his arms, smiled at Jackie.Jackie's pulse fluttered. She returned the crinkled hazel eyes' smile. The figure blushed a hint, turned a bashful eye to the sea. He approached. Surf split and foamed about his hips, thighs, knees, ankles. All softly corded, olive, and bare.
He stopped inches from Jackie's toes, let his gaze drag over her, slow. She blushed in return, twisted a little, pulled and bent her knees to touch. Responding, his eyes flicked to her face, stopped there. Though not a turn of betrayed sentiment showed on his lips, a soft bundle of creases remained at the corners of his eyes, somehow more intense. He lingered on her mouth, nose, eyes, canted his head just a hint. A hoarse, longing sigh rose from his chest.
Some melted excitement splashed into Jackie's chest and belly. Returning the gaze in full measure, she straightened her legs, arms, lay back on the sand. She raised a challenging brow.
Slow, the figure knelt, touched one knee to the beach, then the other. He straddled just one of Jackie's legs, bent, placed heavy hands beside her head. Jackie could hear the wet sand squish under his weight. He bent ever so close, stopped, just breathed. Not a slip of skin touched between them. Droplets fell from his locks and long nose, fell just inches before rolling down Jackie's cheeks. He smelt of salt and earth.
Jackie's lips parted involuntarily, asymmetrically. Never breaking her gaze, she stretched, wriggled just a bit, tilted her groin and chin. She heard the figure's pupils dilate, heard his shuddering breath, sensed his heavy arousal. A small smile of glee split her face. She squirmed in the sand beneath him, like a sea star, free beneath his hanging weight. Then, suddenly deadly serious, she stopped. With dearest care, she shifted just a little, pulled the inside of a smooth thigh to meet his knee. The figure shuddered, shut his eyes. Jackie struck, pushed her lips into his. For a moment, she could taste the warmth, the salt. Then, the world spun.
The figure disappeared. The stars went out. The black sky fell away. Jackie awoke to a riveted, titanium ceiling studded with white lights. She flailed momently, gasping wetly. Tubes hung before her face, wet with the spit of her own trachea. Pressure lifted from her wrists, ankles, and abdomen. She began to float from the padded pod where she lay.
Jackie's clumsy fingers found rails on either edge of the pod. She held herself within, panted. She swallowed dryly, blinked, surveyed the pod, her white sleep shorts and top, the room about her. After a moment, she groaned in recognition and disappointment. Any arousal she'd experienced had flown with her dream, left her with naught but a sodden crotch in a chilly room.
"Good morning, Specialist Jaqueline Kent," said a voice, at once sonorous and very dull.
Jackie tried to sit up and look over the side of the bed. The inertia of the action strained her fingers. Her hands split from the rail. She floated from the bed, frowned.
Across the room was a crop-haired man in red. His cotton jumpsuit strained where it failed to accommodate his chest and back. He had cold, blue eyes and a pointed nose. He held onto a support rail, feet firmly affixed to the vaguely-concave floor in magnet boots.
"Who the fu..." coughed Jackie, barely audible. She rasped. "The fuck are you?" She inadvertently turned upside down in the microgravity, crossed her arms over her floating tits.
"My pardon, Specialist Kent. My designation is Sam."
"You're..." said Jackie, trying to find a more dignified stance. She failed, ended up sort of weakly kicking off the side wall. She made a face as she clipped the stasis pod, wheeled into Sam. Her face collided with his broad chest. He caught her there. For a moment, Jackie's cheek and nose pressed into him. He was firm, but soft. He smelled of soap and salt.
"You're a service unit, an organic android?" she said, frowning, as Sam pulled her away from him.
"Indeed."
"Why isn't this place being spun for gravity?" raged Jackie, shuffling from his grasp. Strong fingers released from her upper arms.
"The habitat is spun for only eight hours of the 24-hour cycle, per regulated health minimums. Generator and battery capacity are prioritized for the lighthouse array, rather than gravity rotors. The next spin commences tonight, in several minutes," said Sam, smiling thinly. "For now, please accept these mag boots."
"Fine," said Jackie, cold. She bumped against the wall, struggled to pull a boot on. The other floated away. She made a face, huffed, weak from stasis sleep. "Please, allow me," said Sam. For just a moment, Jackie twisted her face as if to protest, but relented. She moved close, allowed the android to wrap an arm around each of her calves in turn, slip a boot over the foot, and strap it tight. For a moment, she relaxed, felt the long hands wrap near-entirely round her bare ankles. They were firm, but not rough. Sam moved away. "There."
Jackie tentatively pushed away, set a foot to the floor, felt it stick. "Thanks," she said, quietly.
"Allow me to show you around the lighthouse. Afterwards, you may recuperate. It will only take a moment. The station is not large, and I understand by your Company service record that you have served in this role before."
"There wasn't an android on my last lighthouse. I do this job because I like the solitude."
Sam looked genuinely regretful. "I am sorry. You must understand I was attached to this station by the company. I am their property."
"Yeah, yeah," said Jackie, seeing his face. A spike of empathy broke through her grumpiness. "You don't seem like bad company, anyway. What model are you?" she said, as Sam opened the hatch for them to exit.
"I am a Serault Corporation Ceres-6," he said, stepping through. Jackie followed. The concave floor of the room beyond was double-walled transparent alloy. It acted as a gigantic window out onto the red and purple nebula which the lighthouse was meant to warn of. Along the walls, set so one might look down into the nebula, were leather benches, a few pod chairs, and a bed with microgravity webbing, all somewhat worn. Crimson light played over the white upholstery and sheets.
Jackie looked over the living quarters, far nicer than she'd had before. She gaped at the nebula for a moment, watched a streak of magenta light cross Sam's eyes and face. "So, you're one of those white-blooded ones?"
"My internal serum is a sucrose base. It serves modified roles in all my body fluids. It is indeed an off-white."
"Sucrose? A real sweetie, huh?"
"If indeed it were to be tasted, my serum would taste of sugar." He looked her in the eyes, terribly sincere.
Jackie looked away, grinned uncomfortably. "Right. Have any other special features?" she said, sarcastic.
"As Ceres-6 models are designed for small crew missions, our personality precepts are mutable. We change in reaction or in request to facilitate maximum compatibility."
"Ah, well. Good to know." Jackie looked about awkwardly, arms crossed. "I take it this is my room?"
"Indeed, this is the lighthouse keeper's room," he blinked at her, slow.
"And where do you sleep?"
"Though I do not often enter my hibernation cycle, I have a pod in the crew maintenance room we just exited."
Jackie suddenly uncrossed her arms, waved one about. "Listen, do you need to stare me straight in the eyeballs all the time? It's freaking me out."
"Would you prefer I focus on a different portion of your body?" said Sam. He concernedly looked at her left foot.
"Like, shit. No. Just let your eyes wander like a normal person, okay?"
"Understood," said Sam. He glanced at her eyes, then about the room, then down into the floor-window.
"A little less wildly, maybe."
"Yes, Specialist Kent." His eyes flitted over Jackie, focused momently on the nipples poking through her airy sleep top. Jackie crossed her arms, blushed. "And call me Jackie, not Specialist Kent."
"Understood, Jackie."
"And smile a bit more."
"Of course," he said, doing so. Jackie shivered, not from the chill air. The lines which pulled about the android's eyes and nose bridge turned the cold face quite warm. It stayed that way.
"Well," said Jackie, hesitating. "We're getting on better already," she said, only half as sarcastic as she meant. "Can we continue the tour? I could use a shower."
"Of course." He continued to a hatch on the other side of the room. Jackie stepped through as well. They entered a circular room with a ladder in the center. The walls were ringed with computer panels and other hatches.
"This is the primary communication room. Here, you-"
"Sam, I know how to use the comms."
"My apologies," he said. "This hatch leads to the EVA room. This one to the galley. This one to life support. The ladder leads up to the secondary systems and down to engineering."
"I take it life support has the shower?"
"Indeed."
"Great. Anything else?"
"No. We commence operation tomorrow morning, approximately an hour after the eight-hour spin." He broke off for a moment, canted his head. His eyes trailed over Jackie's bare abdomen, likely by chance. She squirmed, regardless. Sam raised his eyebrows, continued. "The spin, which I believe should commence now."
There was a jerk, a hollow whine in the hull of the station, a rush in Jackie's ears. Jackie and Sam slowly settled under the centrifugal forces. Jackie adjusted her shorts, surreptitiously. "I'm going to shower."
"There are requisite uniforms and undergarments waiting for you."
"Gee, thanks for laying out my underwear."
"Of course, Jackie."
Jackie shook her head, kicked off the mag boots, stomped to the life support bay. She shut the hatch with a good deal of force. The bathroom was behind a secondary hatch, near the spare air purification tanks and the waterless laundry engine. It was stark, shiny white, floored with nobly grip tiles. There were indeed clothes laid out for her: A red jumpsuit and white boyshorts. Jackie passed them just a glance before dropping her shorts and top. Naked, she passed the small mirror, sneered at her baggy eyes, her body, depilated for stasis sleep.
She stepped into the shower. A touch panel reading "Shower Ration: 2 Minutes," met her.
"Same old station-life," she groaned, punched the Start key.
A vertical shower hit from above. Mist quickly filled the room. Jackie moaned for the heat, turned her head and chest to face the stream. Little rivulets poured from her nose, chin, nipples. At these she looked askance, gently surprised. She cupped, rubbed one between thumb and forefinger experimentally, sighed a little. She repeated this with both, sighed a lot. Doing so, suddenly quite determined, she stepped back and leaned back, pressed her rump against the white wall. One hand, the right one, slipped between her hairless legs, which she widened just sufficiently. They wobbled a bit, weak from stasis. She leaned harder against the wall, slipped a middle finger over and through her dripping vulva, split the lips, found it dripping inside, too. The left hand joined, found the clit, elicited a hum, a bitten lip. Several wet seconds later, a groan. Jackie's face tipped upwards. Her thighs twitched. Droplets hit her screwed-up eyelids, her open mouth.
The water stopped abruptly. Jackie jerked upright. "Motherfucker," she said, a cry fading into a mumble. She leaned through the steam, slightly pigeontoed, red the touch panel. It said, "Time until next Shower Ration: 18 hours." Jackie rubbed her temples, groaned resignedly. The cold of the station was already seeping into the shower. Quickly, she dried, performed her remaining ablutions, threw on the insulated red jumpsuit over still-aching nipples.
Jackie emerged to find Sam in the life-support bay. He was shirtless, jumpsuit rolled at the waste, supine beneath a large conduit emitting steam. Droplets rolled over his long fingers and corded forearms, dripped and slid over an expanse of blond-furred chest. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, swollen from the effort of having just slotted a hefty filter into place. As Jackie approached, he turned.
"Jackie," he said, emerging carefully from under the conduit. He panted gently, lips parted just a tad. They were pink, creased. Human. "How are we?"
"I'm fine, thanks," said Jackie, forcibly pulling her eyes to his. She looked for a moment longer, watched a vein pulse on his temple. "If you don't mind me saying, you're damn realistic, aren't you?"
"I am, on the exterior, functionally and visually indistinguishable from a human man."
"Yup," said Jackie, moving to leave.
"Jackie?"
She turned back a moment. "Yes?"
"Is the station too cold for your comfort?" His eyes brows, cream and near-invisible, were arched in concern.
Jackie squinted, raised an eyebrow. "No. It's fine."
"Good. And, do make sure to have the appropriate post-stasis ration packs. I have concerns your flight here has left you low on muscle mass."
Jackie turned away. "Yeah."
She opened the hatch to her quarters, shut it with a huff. One protein pack later, she had stripped off her jumpsuit, dead asleep.
Hours later, Jackie woke to a crimson nebulaic glow. She floated, bleary, in the microgravity webbing. The vibrating hum of the spin-rotors had died. Now, there was merely silence. Dully, Jackie moved to turn over under the webbing. As her thighs shifted, she felt a tingling wetness from some dream she couldn't remember. Idly, half asleep, she let a fingertip creep down her belly, trace over the soaked groin of her shorts, begin to prod, massage. She hummed, rubbed her cheek into the netting.
Nearby, a hatch creaked open. Jackie jerked awake, hang back her hand, froze.
"Ready to get to work, Specialist Jackie?"
Jackie groaned. "Yup," she said. Sam nodded, smiled, retreated into the comms room. The hatch clacked shut.
Only after clambering out of the sleep webbing did Jackie realize her floating tits had been in full view. The Corporation had some odd opinions about bras in space. Jackie shook her head. "Chill, girl. Robot doesn't care."
The proceeding five hours were a floating blur. Jackie stood in the comms room, directed ship after ship in non-collision courses around the nebula. The job was a steep and constant series of calls and responses to incoming and waiting craft. Sam assisted.
"Astroliner 313, after well veer, climb straight ahead five degrees Kepler. Thank you."
"Jackie, we have a Corsican military craft requesting expedited access," said Sam.
"Tell him to follow the greens and stand by for expedite."
"EES Pearl River is expressing a complaint."
"Send them the docs. They can deal with the Company." She changed channels. "Yes, Arrowtine Sirius, you have permission to take route bravo in five. Thank you."
"Jackie, I'm directing Designate 476 to hold. Their cargo requires maximum berth."
"Thanks, Sam."
Sam smiled thinly at her. He had started doing that more often. His eyes stayed crinkled kindly, when he did. Jackie kept watching him.
Abruptly, Sam frowned. "Jackie, we have an error."
"What?"
"New connections are timing out. We have a receiver down from debris strike."
"Debris?"
"Yes. The nebula produces particulates. Usually inconsequential."
"Shit. I'm putting out a mass hold signal." She frowned, tapped a glowing panel. "Yeah. Fourth quadrant antenna's lost a tine. Got to EVA and plant a new one."
"I will prepare your EVA suit."
"Thanks."
Minutes later, they were at the twin doors of the airlock. Both were translucent alloy, showed the nebula beyond. Sam was retrieving EVA suit segments from a locker. Jackie, connected by one foot to the decking, worried at her jumpsuit zipper, peered out into space.
"Jackie?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you well? I understand even specialists have qualms regarding free-body spacewalks."
"It's not that. I've just got to dress. Just look away."
"Ah, of course." He did.
The zipper whispered, shuffled. A mag boot floated past Sam's head, stuck to the ceiling beside. There was a stretching sound, a scrape, a bump. "Shit."
"Jackie, I understand microgravity handling was your only Academy score below 20."
"No shit."
"We cannot dawdle. Please allow me to help you, despite your modesty."
"Fine."
Sam turned. His eyes briefly flitted over Jackie dressed in naught but white shorts, arms crossed, blushing. She waved her free foot at a long, floating EVA boot. "Come on then."
Efficiently, Sam took the boot in one hand and Jackie in the other. With one arm, he maneuvered the weightless Jackie. He set her back against his chest and lap, and, holding the metal collar of a boot, positioned it so she might extend a leg. Jackie held still for a moment. It was very much like someone helping a three-year-old put on socks. Tentatively, she extended a foot, pressed it into the boot.
"Why are these so fucking tight?" she said.
"These suit designs use compression as an essential element in their climatic systems. You must use more force."
Jackie grumbled, shoved, felt herself press back into the android. His chest was broad, soft. She shoved harder, felt her rear press into his pelvis. She froze: Between and under his narrow hipbones, the android's cock was firm. It pressed, semi-aroused, into Jackie's ass.
Jackie paused, arms crossed. She listened for some sign from the android. Sam gave not a sign anything was the matter. She wriggled her rump a little. Still no response. With strange haste, Jackie continued stuffing her foot fully into the tall boot. She felt Sam's fingers incidentally brush her inner thigh as he tugged the collar up her leg. Swiftly, they performed the same maneuver with the second boot. Jackie shoved hard, felt the android's hard body massage the burgeoning ache in her groin. Sam gave a little huff of effort. Unwilfully, Jackie groaned too.
"Help me with the rest," she stuttered.
"Of course."
With every element of EVA suit peeled and stretched onto her body, Jackie pushed back. She relished every firm touch, every tight glove and body segment smoothed under Sam's hands. In response, the android began to handle her more roughly. With perfect calm, he turned her in the microgravity like a doll, assembled the suit with force and precision. When it came time to stretch the suit-top over her, Jackie simply bared her covered chest, sighed as Sam first pulled the material over her arms, then pressed it tight into her waist, her ribs, her breasts.
"I'm glad to see you appear relaxed before EVA, Jackie," said Sam, locking her bubble helmet in place. He released her, and she connected magnetically to the floor. Though the suit wasn't stuffy, she was pink in the face, warm between her legs.
She turned to him. "I..." she said, then stopped, stifling a grin at the sight of the android. In his tight jumpsuit, an erection was obvious, trapped down the side of one leg. She composed herself, looked to his eyes. "I find I like it when you help me."
"I enjoy helping you."
"I can tell."
Sam smiled. "We must hurry and fix that antenna."
Jackie nodded, perhaps clumsily. She pulled on a thruster pack, a kit of tools on tethers, turned to the airlock. The lights of a heads-up display flickered to life on the inside of her bowl-helmet. The first airlock door rotated away. She stepped through, heard it clunk shut behind her. "Airlock cycle commencing," said Sam, in her helmet intercom. There was a growing hiss. Over the space of thirty seconds, Jackie was enveloped in vacuum.
The outer door slid open. Jackie detached her mag boots, triggered a thrusted, glided out into the void. All about, there was swirling, distant red and purple, save for one hemisphere, which was black and speckled. Jackie made some distance from the lighthouse, beheld it. Between the long tower of the antenna array and the spin-able crew module, it looked like some sort of odd Olympic torch.
"Sam, I'm traversing to the broken tine."
"Affirmed."
"Cut power for me, now."
"Done."
"I see the broken antenna tine. Making my way there."
"Will it require replacement?"
"Looks like. I have one in the kit."
"I will file the damage log with the Company."
"I've nearly got it out. Have to grind open the socket casing." Briefly, metal dust appeared under the rotating tool blade, drifted into space. She pulled the grinder away. "It seems fine. I'll commence setting the new one."
"Jackie, take care we have incoming debris from the nebula," said Sam, calm.
"What?"
"Actually, I advise finishing and returning with all haste."
"Shit," said Jackie, twisting the tine into place. She turned about, saw a cloud of grey glitter fast approaching. Her thrusters flared. Halfway along the tower of the lighthouse, tiny particles began to fly about her, impossibly fast. One collided with her helm, deeply gouged the armor glass. Then, just outside the airlock, another hit her. Jackie screamed.
"Jackie, are you alright? I am cycling the airlock."
"Fuck!" said Jackie, braking to a stop outside the transparent airlock door. She pressed a hand to one thigh. Blood drifted in globs from the opposite width of the limb. "It's my leg, Sam. Open up fucking quickly. It's so cold."
"The airlock is cycling. What's your oxygen reading?"
"Eleven percent, all of a sudden. It's hit a ventilation line," she groaned.
"I see the same. Measured breaths, now."
The outer airlock door began to open. As soon a gap showed, Jackie crawled through, trailing red dots. She continued in her momentum, collided with the opposite door. "Three percent," she mumbled, tried to strip off her thruster pack and tools. She floundered, gasped, drifted immobile. "Two..."
She came back to consciousness some minute second later in the life support bay. Gripped round the waist by Sam, she watched, dazed by hypoxia, as he cut away the damaged suit leg. In her bare thigh, a red dot showed, through and through, surrounded by black and blue blotches of cold-scarring. Sam rolled up his sleeves, produced gauze from a medical kit, caught and padded away the floating blobs of red. He let the gauze float, took up an odd, yellow gun with a pointed nozzle. "This will be unpleasant," he said, stuck the end into the dot in Jackie's leg.
She groaned, felt something fill and swell within the wound. Sam removed the nozzle, swiped away some excess, fleshy paste, and smoothed it over with a finger on either side. Jackie lolled, pressed her nose to Sam's neck. The scent of soap filled her dizzy head. "Artificial clot. I'm sure you're familiar," said Sam, softly. "Here's for the pain." There was a soft poke. Jackie felt a needle slide from her skin, go numb. "And here's for the burns." He stretched something around her thigh. It squeezed tight and soft. For a moment after, he held her tight. Tight, as if she might try and get away. Jackie, clad in the tattered suit, wrapped an arm about the android.
Jackie took heavy, greedy breaths. As she reoxygenated, she became aware of being carried. "Sam," she said, gaining strength. She wriggled weakly. "We must get back to work. The lighthouse has to function."
"The lighthouse keeper is in no shape to work"
"Sure I am." She wriggled some more.
"Company policy dictates crewmembers must abdicate work and recuperate for 24 hours following severe injury. I will transmit the detour notice, and lighthouse traffic will resume tomorrow."
"Fine," said Jackie. "Then what are you going to do?"
"My duties will include helping you in your recuperation."
Jackie huffed, slumped her shoulders, allowed herself to be carried. Thoughtfully, she felt Sam's shoulder, his wide back. Her pulse quickened. "You like to help me," she said, softly. She nuzzled the android's neck, found it soft and free of stubble.
"I do."
"Then take me to bed."
"I intend to."
With the near-weightless Jackie supported in one arm, Sam swung open the crew quarters hatch. A red and magenta suffusion bloomed through the translucent floor. As Sam crossed to the bed, nebulaic colors lent weird highlights to the angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He bent, held Jackie under the shoulders and legs, tucked her under the sleep webbing. Jackie was merely limp, enjoyed being handled by those careful hands. She relaxed. The hand withdrew. Sam moved to leave.
"Hey," said Jackie, abruptly. She looked up at Sam, frowning a little. Purple bathed his attentive face, his bare forearms. "Stay and cuddle me."
"Of course."
Gently, he removed his mag boots, joined her under the webbing. They lay abreast, shoulders touching. Sam's shoulder was nearly as wide and round as Jackie's head. "How would you like me to cuddle you?" he said, quietly, turning.
"Spoon me," said Jackie, turning her ass to him.
"I will."
Softly, Sam tugged her in close, enveloped her. A solid, warm weight. Jackie felt a heavy arm settle around her belly, pull her tight in the microgravity. Inadvertently, she produced a fluttering sigh.
"Does your leg pain you?" said Sam, behind her ear.
"That's not what that sigh meant, Sam," said Jackie, a little sheepish. "It means I'm fucking comfortable." She curled up, pulled the arm tight to her. She squirmed, pressed her cheek and nose to the other arm, wriggled her hips. She paused. Something was poking into her ass.
"Sam," she said, softly.
"Yes, Jackie."
"I didn't know robots got hard-ons."
"My current physiological response has arisen in response to your own. You have exhibited signs of persistent sexual arousal since awaking from stasis."
Jackie felt warm. She spoke softly. "What kind of signs?"
"Your nipples have been sufficiently tumescent to show through your clothing. You denied this was due to temperature imbalance."
"Say it again. Drop the clinical affect," said Jackie. She pressed her face into Sam's arm, smelled the soap and salt of his skin.
"Your nipples have been hard, Jackie."
"Yeah?" she said, turning. She wriggled some more, felt the cock, bent and trapped, rubbing against her rump. "Any other signs?"
"Your face is flushed."
"Could it be a coincidence?"
"Unlikely."
Jackie turned onto her back and faced Sam. "I want you to study further; find out if I'm really aroused, Sam."
"Are you aroused, Jackie?"
"Not like that. Not by asking," said Jackie, rolling her eyes. "Find out manually."
"That will require me to undress you."
"You can undress me." Jackie said in suppressed glee.
Sam shifted up, so he was atop Jackie. With his back to the netting and his limbs pressed to the bed, he hung above her. They didn't touch. Jackie looked up at Sam, challengingly. She let her arms fall to her sides, closed her eyes while still staring at him.
First, she felt his hands at her neck, undoing the collar of what remained of the EVA suit. Then, powerfully, he took her about the waist and flipped her, back up. Jackie gasped a little, kept her eyes shut. Fingers pressed into her upper back, then left. The back and arms of Jackie's suit slipped away in just a few motions.
"Shit. A lot easier to take off than put on," said Jackie.
"It is." Jackie could feel his breath dust her bare back.
Thumbs pressed into Jackie's bare lower back. She was turned over again. With efficiency, Sam stripped away the front suit panel. Jackie gasped briefly at the swiftness, squirmed just a little. Her tits floated free, nipples pointed emphatically outward. She opened her eyes, again treated Sam to that challenging gaze. She was small and very bare beneath him, now clad only in the crotch and single, torn leg of the suit. Sam's eyes were set steadily upon her, crinkled about the edges.
"What do you think?"
"I believe my arousal matches your own," said Sam. He pulled a thumb over one dot of a nipple. "Yes. Fully hard."
"You can't be sure," said Jackie, breathless.
"Indeed. I haven't examined you fully."
Suddenly, efficiently, Sam flipped Jackie again, pulled her hips into the air, and tugged both suit and boyshorts from her bottom. Started, Jackie pulled her hips back to the bed, turned about with knees together. Her bottoms hung like scraps about one foot. She looked up at Sam, quite naked. The challenge in her eyes was half replaced by something foggier.
"Well?" she asked, panting a little.
"With your permission."
"Yeah, yeah," she said.
Sam let his hand slip first from Jackie's knees to her inner thighs. Then, he laid her open. Jackie saw the arousal twitch in his jumpsuit, swell.
"You appear very well aroused" he said.
"Check."
Sam readied a hand.
"No, use your tongue," said Jackie, pulling her knees apart. Sam nodded, bent.
Jackie felt his breath, cool on her aching groin. Then, she split under his hot tongue. Pent-up girlcum dribbled and pooled about her ass. Jackie groaned arched her back, but Sam pulled away.
He looked down at her, stood upon his knees, shoulder supported by the webbing, chin glistening. "You are verifiably wet."
"No shit," said Jackie. She rolled up and leapt from where she lay, wrapped her arms around Sam, leaned up to kiss him. She squeezed the broad back, let, one of his thighs press to her groin. Sam allowed her a brief, deep kiss. The salt of Jackie's own arousal met her tongue.
Sam pulled away from the kiss. "You desire sex," she said, throaty.
"Silly robot. Fuck yes I do," said Jackie. With both hands, she pulled his head in for another kiss. This time, he reciprocated. Strong hands lifted Jackie by the bottom, pulled her into the kiss. Her groin left a wet blotch on his thigh.
Fumbling, lips still fixed to his, Jackie searched for the jumpsuit zipper below Sam's chin. She found it, yanked it down. She broke the kiss only to shove both hands inside and strip it away. Sam shrugged, and the suit fell around his waist. Jackie cleaved to his broad, lightly-furred chest. She pressed herself to him, relished his large form against hers. She dug fingers into the double line of his lower back, squeezed him, felt his heartbeat and shallow, excited breaths.
With force, Sam briefly pushed Jackie away, pulled the zipper down past his crotch. Jackie gasped at the shove.
"You enjoy being handled in microgravity," stated Sam.
"Maybe," said Jackie. She grasped one of Sam's hips, pulled herself to the exposed bulge of white undershorts. With one hand, she delved into the waistband, felt short fur on his lower belly and pubic bone. Then, she seized what she desired. With his thumbs, Sam pushed the shorts down to his knees, revealed Jackie holding his cock.
Jackie's small fingers wrapped about him, caused the heavy thing to straighten and rise. Sam groaned.
"Seems someone on the Ceres design team was a connoisseur of men," said Jackie. She gave Sam a stroke. The cock twitched. A dot of precum beaded on the wide, flushed head, threatened to float away. A wicked look came into Jackie's eyes. With the tip of her tongue, she licked the bead away, found it oddly sweet. The cock jumped in her hand.
Slowly, powerfully, Sam threaded the fingers of one hand through Jackie's hair, gripped the back of her skull. Jackie moaned, tipped her chin to him. The cockhead bobbed mere inches from her lips. With a wide grin, head still immobilized, Jackie cupped, seized the hairless sac which hung close below Sam's cock. She pulled, squished the thick handful of manhood, felt the delicate contents slide within her grasp. A hoarse groan rattled the android.
"Have you cum before, Sam? Do they let Ceres-6's orgasm, before they ship you out?"
Sam held her head firmly. "We are given only memories of the sensation."
That wicked look returned to Jackie. She felt her own arousal drip onto her foot. She stuck out the little point of her tongue, waggled it. Sam pushed her just a might closer, groaned. Jackie delicately licked the underside of the cockhead, chased it whenever it reacted and twitched away.
"Do you like that?"
"I do, Jackie."
"You can pull me closer."
He did. Jackie caught him with her lips, drew in just the head. She savored the groan Sam emitted, relished the power of her teeth so near that delicate nob. She gave a few wet passes of lips and tongue.
Suddenly, Sam groaned loud. His fingers pushed hard into Jackie's skull. Jackie permitted three slow, languorous thrusts of her head onto Sam's cock. She hummed, face flushing, felt the soft head rub the back of her throat. She gurgled, coughed just a bit. Sam released her, hands shaking.
"Are you all right, Jackie?"
Jackie pulled up from Sam's hips, floated to his neck, bit the corded sinew there. "Shush. You know..." she said, kissing his throat. "That I like to be handled."
Sam pulled her up just a little higher, kissed her. Momently, he leaned over, released the sleep webbing. It retracted, and the two of them floated free. Sam seized Jackie by the waist, kissed her hard on the forehead, the nose, the mouth. He pulled her farther up, kissed her neck, her collarbones, her breastbone. There, he paused at her breasts. Jackie wrapped her arms about his crop-haired head, held him close. He paid a handful of kisses to each breast, then pulled each nipple into his mouth in turn. Jackie felt blood flush to her chest, became exquisitely aware of the miniscule bumps of his tongue sliding over each nip and areola. She wrapped herself around him, let him play soft ministrations to each teat.
He left each nipple red from suction, wet. Softly, he blew over each. In the slightly chill air of the lighthouse, Jackie shuddered from goosebumps.
"How the fuck did you learn that?"
"Ceres behavioral designers are skilled."
"Fuck they are," said jack. She pushed down on Sam's head, floated till her crotch was level with his face. A few droplets of girlcum rolled off her, floated where she had just been. There, Sam abruptly caught her, wrapped his arms over her thighs to clasp in the small of her back. Jackie quivered, felt his breath on her cunt. She felt kisses patter the lines of taught muscle connecting to her pubic bone. She felt him kiss, suck the flesh just outside her sodden lips, right where the thigh touches labia.
Then, his tongue again split her down the middle, stroked over the little labia to caress the clit. Jackie gasped, curled around Sam's head. She tipped her hips into him, shuddered as another lick just dipping into her before finding the precious knob. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, dug into the scalp. In response, he unclasped his hands behind her back, let her simply lie, floating. Sam held her rump cupped in his large hands, lifted to his mouth, like he was drinking from a bowl. He nibbled, sucked each of her labia in turn.
"Finger me."
She barely felt the first finger, she was so wet. She shivered at the thought, nonetheless. She shuddered at the second, felt both curl up to tickle the sopping wall of her cunt. The third stretched her, made her moan. Sam flicked her clit with his tongue. She seized his head, ground against him. She enjoyed his attempts to stay on-target, despite her bucking hips.
Then, Sam began to suck on her.
"Aw, fuck you robot," gasped Jackie, rapturous. A rush of warmth sped to her clit, made everything gloriously numb in comparison. Her nipples ached, so she seized them, squeezed. Sam's three fingers wriggled futilely as her body clamped down on them, spasmed. Jackie arched, tensed, gasped a strangled "fuck," as she came, thighs squeezed to Sam's head.
She released him, floated, twitching for a moment in the afterthroes of orgasm. "Hold me," she mumbled. He did, collected her and held her tight to his chest. She wrapped her legs about Sam's waist, enjoyed his warmth in contrast to her cooling sweat.
"Are you satisfied, Jackie?" asked the android.
"Ugh," she mumbled, lay still.
"Good."
"Wait, no," said Jackie, biting him on the shoulder. She ground against his hip bone for a moment, still exquisitely wet. Sam's cock bounced against her leg, only a little diminished in its excited girth. "I've been in stasis for too long for one orgasm to cut it."
Jackie shifted down, clasped her feet around the android's buttocks. She slowly slid her slick cunt over his shaft, felt him harden completely under her. She craned her neck, kissed him.
"I do hope your leg is alright," he said, breaking the kiss.
"It's fine. Shut up and fuck me."
"Intercourse?"
"Yup."
With purpose, Sam took her by the bottom, slowly lowered her to his cock. The head just brushed her lips, became instantly slick. Slowly, gently, he lowered Jackie onto him. Jackie made a face.
With an excited hop, she pulled herself down, took the full extent of the android's cock. Sam hummed, throatily. Jackie gasped a little. "That's more like it," she said, wiggling. Girlcum pooled around the base of Sam's member, white and clear. Jackie shifted, bounced on the cock a few times, experimentally.
"Just like a real boy," she grinned. Sam's expression had grown serious. The little lines around his eyes deepened. He hummed luxuriantly whenever Jackie bounced. Jackie bit his lower lip, tugged. "Come on."
With a few quick motions, Sam flipped her back, tits-up, parallel to his hips. He seized her by the waist, pulled her away, thrust. There was a soft, wet sound. Jackie groaned. Sam repeated, slowly, pulled himself and Jackie together again and again. Jackie let a hand slide to her clit, felt her lips parting for the android's thrusts, just below. She rubbed, watched Sam's body curl and flex with every thrust.
"You can go faster, Sam..."
He did. Jackie moaned, aroused by the quick, wet thump of Sam's hips against her bottom. She hung there in space, slid side to side in space by strong hands at her hips. Every time Sam filled her up, she exhaled, shallow.
"Jackie."
"Uh, Sam, don't fucking stop." The android was palpable inside her as she began to clench around him.
"Jackie, really, its quite important."
"Let me cum fi-"
There was a weird rush in Jackie's ears. They turned suddenly sideways in space, abruptly thumped to the edge of the bed. Jackie lay there for a moment, legs splayed, irritated. "The spin, Jackie," said Sam, where he had landed beside her.
"Yeah," said Jackie, climbing atop him. She straddled his hips, picked up his cock to touch her dripping lips. "Whatever," she said, sliding atop him. She hummed. The already-girthy cock felt even more substantial, in gravity. She gave a few bounced, ground for a moment, watched the android's eyes flutter. Jackie spread her fingers on the broad chest before her, dug in a little. She started to bounce.
"You are a lot like a real boy, Sam," she said, savoring every impact against her clit and mons. She bounced faster. "You feel nice and warm, and hard. Good replication," she said, leaning forward over him, grinding. Their chests touched. Jackie bit his neck, heard his breath speed up. She extended the angle of her bend legs, a bit, invited Sam to contribute to the fucking. He did. Jackie shook, exhaled with every wet impact, slipped her hand between her legs, again. "Good energy, good attitude." She gasped. "Knows how to please a girl." She kissed him, moaned into his mouth. Her thighs began to shake. Her fingers fanned. Sam's thrusts became more powerful as he competed with the clenching walls of her cunt. Jackie shuddered, came.
"I am," said Sam, panting as Jackie gripped him, trembling on his now-still cock. "Glad you are satisfied."
"Wait," said Jackie, sitting up. Her hair was a sweated mess.
"We have to see," she said, panting, creeping down to the android's throbbing member. "If they replicated everything." Her mouth closed around him. Sam shook, stretched one arm overhead. The other gripped the back of Jackie's head, softly. She bobbed there, took great, wet strokes with engorged lips.
Sam shook, arched his back, bent the knee Jackie straddled. It bumped her ass, left a wet print. "Oh, Specialist Jackie," he moaned.
"Hmm?" moaned Jackie, lips wrapped around him.
"I think it's only courteous to warn I'm going to cum."
Jackie pulled her head off him, smiled, began to pump the cock with both hands, and placed her lips over his head. In a few strokes of her small hands, Sam's hips bucked into Jackie's mouth. He groaned, loud. She hummed, first with pleasure, then wetly in surprise. Still pumping, she pulled her lips away, and a gooey splash of white poured over her hands.
"Wow," she said, marveled at him spurting. She licked her lips. "It's sugar," she laughed. Panting, Sam's orgasm died down. He panted, chest heaving. Jackie licked the sugary cum from his cock, crawled up to his head. She placed a wet, sugary kiss, on his lips.
"Sucrose-based," she smiled, pulling away. "Sweet robot." She wrapped a leg around him, cuddled the sweat and sugar-covered android.
"I do hope this will help your recovery," said Sam, crinkly eyes smiling. He lay there, limp.
"Oh, I think so."
"Good. I do enjoy helping you.'
"Cuddle me. Silly robot."
"Yes, Jackie." He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her tight.
Jackie watched the red and purple of the nebula play over the ceiling. "Sam, I think this assignment will be a good one," she said, sleepily.
"I do think we have become a compatible lighthouse crew."
"That's one way to put it."
They lay still for a moment. Jackie's breathing slowed, relaxed.
"It is a shame I'll be replaced in a month" said Sam.
Jackie didn't respond. She had fallen fast asleep.
Based on a post by Alizzia for Literotica.