Buying a New Home

“So how much?” You ask as you enter the ‘lounge’ of the starship you had been touring. After leaving the bank, you got the notion to do some shopping, however, you needed a place to put the things you bought. This leads to you thinking about some apartments, and truthfully there are some pretty ones but you don’t plan on being tied to Coruscant forever. With that in mind, you decided to cut the middle man out and go straight for a starship, telling the dealer you wanted a ship you could live in.

“Well, this is a one of a kind antique” the man mused, stroking his chin in thought. “But to be honest, I’ve been having a rather hard time selling it, only rogue types want a ship this well armed and only the refined want a ship this luxurious, both these groups have better ships on offer for their chosen categories” The man explained. The ship he had presented you with was one you hadn’t expected to find in a million years. The X-70B or the ship used by the Imperial Agents from The Old Republic online game. “It is also in remarkable condition, factory fresh, despite its age”.

“Yes, remarkable condition” you say, frowning at the notion. The ship would have been four thousand years old, and should have been scuttled by now. “How exactly did you come by it?”

“Oh, a lovely young woman with pink hair . . . strange, that’s . . . all I can remember of her '' the dealer replied, frowning as if struggling to remember something.

“Pink hair you say?” you ask, frowning at the thought. You hadn’t expected Pink to be making her presence known at all.

“Well anyway, with all that in mind, I think I can part with the vessel in oh . . . 130,000 credits?” he proposed. “Taking into account the fact that everything in the ship is woefully outdated of course, perfect for a woman who just needs a mobile home with a little defence if she gets unwanted visitors” the dealer commented, flashing you with a grin.

“Well then” you say as you turn and stride towards the bar, scanning the bottles contained on the wall behind it. “I’ll take it” you say, tossing a credit chip onto the bar and pulling a green bottle off of one of the shelves. You hear a ‘ding’ as the man pulls out a dataslate and scans your chip.

“Pleasure doing business with you” the man said, as you fish two glasses out from under the bar. You pour a finger into both glasses and give yours an experimental swirl. It looked like freshly brewed green tea. Without a second thought, you throw the drink back, noting that it tasted like green tea and burnt like vodka. The dealer took the other glass and threw his back as well, setting the glass back on the bar and blinking a couple of times.

“The pleasure is all mine” you purr, putting a hand on your hip and grinning at the man. The dealer, for his part, looked you up and down for a second before shaking his head.

“Enjoy your new home” the man said before turning and leaving, seemingly trying to look like he wasn’t fleeing. You watch him exit the lounge and grab that bottle off the bar, taking a look at the label.

“Skrilling Skaal huh?” you mused out loud. “Is that the place it’s made? The people who made it, or the thing it’s made from?” you ask no one in particular. Now sure that you are alone on your brand new ship, you decide to do what any discerning lady would do, and immediately stripped off, revelling in the feeling of freedom it provided and the goosebumps of being naked in what was, merely a moment ago, a public place.

Now commando, you sedately wander the halls of your new home, heading towards your new bedroom. It wasn’t as big as you have liked, but for a room you are only going to be sleeping in, it more than did it’s job. With a large bed fit for three people taking up the majority of the room, a wardrobe on one side of the room, a desk on the other and a suspiciously empty section of wall tucked into a corner. Being aware that this ship was intended to be used by spies, you thought there might be a hidden compartment. True to your thoughts, one of the wooden panels decorating the walls of the room could be pressed, the result was a hidden draw that could be pulled out.

“Whoa ho ho!” you cheer as the hidden booty revealed itself. The draw contained over a dozen different blaster pistols, some of which were matching pairs. You pull a couple out, inspecting the fine weapons and noting that every single one of them resembled an old earth revolver. You pull out one more and your eyes light up. It was a LeMat revolver, from the second barrel under the main barrel right down to something that looked like a hammer, it was perfect for your new sidearm, even if you had no idea what that second barrel does and aren’t game enough to try it in your own ship. Who knows, it might actually be a shotgun attachment. You fish around the gun draw for a second, pulling out a holster for your gun and strapping it to your bare thigh before stepping out of your room and heading back to the lounge.

At the lounge, you grab your bottle of tea-vodka and another glass before striding with purpose towards the bridge. You had noted when you first toured the ship that the bridge wasn’t the same as in the game, the massive console that normally took up the middle of the bridge and contained a map of the galaxy had been removed. In its place there were a few new things. The first was a third crew slot which actually looked like a pilots’ station rather than the sensor stations either side. The second, the captain's chair was now where the map console used to be on a raised platform, giving a commanding view of the three bridge slots in front of it to anyone sitting in the captains seat. And lastly, where the captain’s chair used to be was a holotable, currently showing a map of the galaxy but easily changeable to practically anything else.

Striding up to your chair, since you are the captain now, you slid your bare arse into the seat. You aren’t sure exactly what the seat covering is made out of but whatever it was, it wasn’t leather and it didn’t stick to your skin. You poke around at the sides of the chair and note that it had a table which you fold out and place your pilfered beverage on. You pour yourself a glass and take a shot of the tea-vodka, sighing as it burnt its way down. You place the glass down and begin fleeing yourself up. Running your hands down your breasts, caressing your thighs before bringing them back up again. You carry this on for a few more minutes until the throbbing in your loins takes up enough of your attention. You gently trail a finger down your body, biting your lip at the tingling sensation it brings. You trace the folds of your snatch with it, rubbing your thighs while your other hand kneads a breast. You bring your hand up to your clit, settling two fingers on the engorged bulb and begin a circular motion. You stick your legs over the arm rests of the chair, reclining as much as the seat allows you too as you continue your motions, gently circling your clit, occasionally running your hand down it and inserting a finger into your snatch, before bringing it up and carrying on with your circular motions. You moan lightly at the sensation, the tingles becoming more and more intense, causing your muscles to tense up and your pelvis to move on its own. You speed your motions up as the pleasure builds, your other hand now merely holding a boob rather than fondling it, your eyes close against the building pleasure and the world drops away until nothing is left but your fingers on your snatch, rubbing away at your love button. You aren’t even using circular motions anymore, the desire for orgasm so intense that you are just rubbing back and forth as fast as your arm would allow. Finally, you reach that edge, that barrier between you and bliss. Your arm is a blur as you frantically rub yourself. An electric jolt hits your body, a moan tears from your lips, your muscles all tense, you slam your shoulders into the backing of your chair and spasms work their way up your body as you cum, the jolting tingles of your orgasm shooting up your spine and settling on your brain, washing out your senses in a euphoric high.

An indeterminate amount of time later, you relax, returning from your orgasmic high and slumping into your seat, resting for a moment in your, now somewhat uncomfortable position before pulling your legs from over the arm rests and working your way back into a semi-proper sitting position. Still lightly panting from the exertion, you reach over and grab the bottle of tea-vodka, pouring yourself a glass and throwing it back. It burnt just that little bit better in the afterglow of your ship’s christening.

“A girl could get used to this” you sigh as you pull the glass away from your lips.