Councilwoman Regina Allbright

Commander Smith ran his index finger around the **** collar of his full dress uniform. He took a glass of champagne from the tray of one of the circulating waiters and tentatively took a sip. Admiral Thorndike had more-or-less ordered him to the party, and he did not want to drink too much and do something that would embarrass either the Admiral or the Service.

Admiral Thorndike was standing with a group of people, one of whom Commander Smith recognized from media coverage as a Councilman on the Appropriations Committee.

As Commander Smith stood alone, pretending to drink the champagne he was holding, he sensed someone watching him. Turning around, his eyes met the pale blue ones of an attractive woman wearing a silvery gown. The color of her dress matched her hair, but despite the deep laugh lines around her mouth and eyes, Commander Smith found her to be quite attractive.

When the woman smiled, Smith walked over. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Richard Smith.”

“I know,” the woman replied, taking a sip of her drink and studying him over the rim of her glass. “Admiral Thorndike said you would be here. You are the Captain of the 5-EX, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he started to add M’am, but did not want to make reference to the gap in their ages. So instead he repeated himself and add.” Yes…Yes, I am.”

“A good ship?” she asked, her eyes still staring at him. Smith found it difficult to look into those eyes. They were so penetrating, as if she could see through anything.

“I like to think so.”

“It should be,” the woman replied. “At the amount of credits it costs to build one.”

A pause, then the woman continued, “Admiral Thorndike is trying to convince us to build six more. That will be a lot of money. Do you think they will be worth it?”

Commander Smith hesitated. Was this woman also a member of the Council? “I’m sure they must be if the Admiral is asking for them.”

“Mmmm,” the woman nodded, again sipping her drink. A non-answer to a potentially loaded question. Oh, well, she had not expected the Captain of a Faster Than Light ship to be stupid. Suddenly she shifted her gaze to the French doors leading out onto the patio.

“It appears to be a lovely night,” she remarked and paced slowly towards the patio. Smith walked with her, figuring that was what she wanted.

On the patio, they saw that the night was indeed nice. The sky was clear and full of stars and the air was cool without being chilly. The woman looked up at the sky and Smith took the opportunity to study her profile. High cheekbones and a wide forehead. Her nose was long but thin and her neck was graceful.

“Just look at all those stars,” she said, but Smith remained silent, not sure if she was speaking to him or not. Then she turned to look at him once more with those piercing eyes of hers. “And now you people in the Solar Guard and, what does Admiral Thorndike call his command? Oh, yes. And now you people in the Celestial Command have found a way to travel back and forth to the stars.”

Looking skyward once more, she said, “Not just a one way journey like the sleeper-ships or the generation ships, but a way to go back and forth. Round trips. Over reasonable lengths of time.”

Taking another sip of her drink, she strolled towards the far end of the patio, out of the pool of light spilling from the ball room through the opened French Doors.

Suddenly, without warning, the woman shoved against Smith’s chest, pushing him back against the brick façade of the building. Her mouth sought out his, cover it and probing with her tongue while her hand darted to his crotch, groping him.

At first Smith was too surprised to react, but then he started to return her kisses. His own tongue danced and flirted with hers and he encircled her with one arm, drawing her close to him. She pressed her thin, almost bony body against Smith’s muscular one, her thighs on either side of one of his. She slid herself up and down against his thigh as her lips worked on his lips and her hand continued to squeeze and caress the growing lump between his legs.

Smith tossed his glass towards the grass and held her in both arms but soon she pushed away from him. His eyes flew open, wondering why she had broken the embrace, but the woman’s slender fingers were already fumbling with his belt buckle. Smith reached down to help her and together the two of them opened his pants and fly, and shoved them down past his knees, all the way to his ankles.

He looked quickly towards the lighted area of the patio, afraid that someone might come out and see them, but his partner had no such qualms. Dropping quickly to her knees, she gripped his already stiff cock and stroked it a few times but enveloping it in her mouth.

Moaning from the sensation of the woman’s mouth on his dick, Smith leaned his head back against the bricks and closed his eyes. His fingers sought out her head and lightly stroked her hair as she busily fellated him. Soon Smith was standing with his legs wide apart while the woman cupped his balls with one hand and pumped his shaft with her other. She kept just the head of his member inside her mouth, but applied a study and unrelenting sucking to it. Her lips, thinner than the type Smith preferred, formed a tight seal around the tip of his cock, and the vacuum she created around it made it swell even larger than its normally full size.

No man could withstand such an **** for longer, and Commander Smith was no exception. Soon he was twitching his hips and thighs uncontrollably followed shortly by a guttural cry.

The woman kneeling between his legs was well experienced in the oral arts and his eruption came as no surprise to her. She just kept sucking and pumping as he spent himself inside her mouth. When she was certain that his orgasm had subsided, she turned her head away and spat out the hot load of cum onto the grass while still slowly stroking his softening cock.

“So tell me,” the woman smiled up at him, her well manicured hands still holding and caressing his now empty balls and deflated cock. “Do you really think we need six more FTL ships?”

“What I really think is that you should let me return the favor,” Commander Smith grinned down at the kneeling woman. He offered his hand to help her up, which she took, groaning a little when she stood up.

“The old knees just aren’t what they used to be,” she remarked and smoothed out the front of her dress. Then she smiled up at him.

“Don’t bother.” The woman flicked the tip of his nose with her forefinger. “For years, when I was a junior member of the Council, that was the only way I could get any of my bills out of Committee.”

Then her face grew serious and her eyes less piercing. A softness, almost a vulnerability, seeped into them. “So tell me, Mister Virile and Dashing Spaceman, do I still ‘got it’?”

“And then some,” Commander Smith answered, reaching for her.

But she slipped from his grasp and headed back to the party. Smith started to follow, but had to stop to pull up and fasten his pants.