Descent

The ship's shower was not particularly large, most conveniences on board a space-vessel having to be somewhat scaled down, and Gina found a couple of times that the drain became clogged slightly, such was the thickness and sheer volume of balljuice that the water sluiced off her down the plughole. After emerging from the clouds of steam and into the bathroom, Gina towelled off and set about thinking of what to wear. She was torn between wanting to don something that would make Lucian blow yet another enormous load the instant he saw whatever outrageous and slutty get-up she had chosen, and yet at the same time needed something that wouldn't make her stand out too much, since discretion was the optimum mode of operation at this stage in the mission.

Once again, as she had done before she had made her way to the docking station orbiting Darvon, Gina went once again to her 'dressing' room and settled into the large black chair that dominated the space, the screens around it immediately sensing she was there and flicking into life to present her with an array of options of how to further customise her appearance.

First Gina used the tube of lube and the monomolecular scanner to delete the tattoo of the word 'cumslut' that she had previously had positioned atop her pubic mound. She also chose to eliminate the one that went over her left thigh and the small of her back using the same process. Now with her astonishing, bronzed body a blank slate, she decided upon an old classic, adding a slender tattoo of black barbed wire just above the bicep on her right arm. To complement the tattoo she added another of identical design that went all the way round the curves of her supple, muscular thigh. Finally she decided to adorn her entire back with a detailed and intricate tattoo recognisible as being based on designs of the Vascali indigenous people, a swirl of black interconnecting tracework around a central point.

This time she decided to go blonde, and had the machine nano-microbiologically change her long, tumbling near-ass-length tresses into an almost silvery whiteness.

Rising from the seat, Gina selected her wardrobe. First of all she dressed herself in a pink shredded vest. It was extremely short, and the figure-hugging elasticated material (the elastication had particular anti-projectile properties) only made it down to just below her boobs, leaving the ripped tracework of her absurdly sculptured stomach muscles open to the world. The material was shiny and had a little stretch to it, the most important feature of the top being the way that it had eight horizontal slashes across the front of it, revealing the contours of her staggeringly huge, more-than head-size tits, which tented the material from beneath and had the effect of projecting the vest top outwards, the bulging globes stretching the slashes in the material so that they provided more-than indecent glimpses of her dainty areolas and small, eraser-tip nipples.

For a skirt Gina chose a minuscule, pleated black-latex affair that was no more than three inches long, allowing the clear, latex transparent panties that she wore to be observed both as they rode over the smooth swell of her mouthwatering hips and every time she took a step. Behind her, the short latex pleats merely rested upon the protruding, globular spheres of her asscheeks, almost horizontal, so that Gina's ass was all fully exposed.

Gina strapped a holster with a small but indisputably effective sidearm to the side of her thigh, designing to prefer matt-black platform soled stripper shoes. Pink fingerless gloves completed the look, with a number of small, unobtrusive digital devices that would not add to the look in themselves but comprised a devastating, if outwardly inconspicuous, arsenal, should she need to call upon it.

Just them she felt the unmistakable judder of the ship breaking the atmosphere of the planet and knew that Lucian was bringing them down on the surface. She left her own ship and made her way through the cargo bay to the cockpit, where Lucian was concentrating on a set of screens, each giving particular readings, and trying manfully to wrestle with a large joystick in the centre of the control panel.

'Fuck, Gina, that's not fair,' Lucian said when he saw her.

'What's not?' said Gina, twirling to give him a full view of how she looked.

'Do you want me to crash the ship? Do you? Because that's what's going to happen if you continue to parade about like that,' Lucian said with a grin.

'I'll take my chances,' retorted Gina with a wry smile, 'I've taken much bigger ones just to try and make a few monstercocks burst open a few pairs of trousers... mmmmm...'

As Lucian continued to pilot the ship, Gina snuggled next to him and started to lick her lips, moan, and make sort of indecent sounds as her roving hands found his trousers and pulled the fabric tightly to better make the outline of his enormous fuck-missile as it rose to full tumescence once again. Gina looked in Lucian's eyes and simply drooled all over the fabric, positive that she could make out large, throbbing veins of the monstrous organ standing out, even from under the stiff material.

'Dammit Gina!' said Lucian, who at that point was very close to making the nose of the large cargo taker tip too far in one direction, nearly unbalancing the entry into Darvon's atmosphere, 'this is a little on the dangerous side.'

'Ok, Gina agreed, pressing her lips together in a gesture of appreciation of how the head of Lucian's massive flesh missile was pressed against his hip, the long tube of flesh straining against the confines of his trousers horizontally, the restrictive material straining to keep the enormous horsedick where it was, 'I promise I won't suck this fucking log unless you actually burst out of your trousers. That's fair.'

Gina made goo-goo eyes at Lucian and stuck her tongue into her cheek and moved her hand next to it, making the signal of jacking off.

Lucian gulped.

'Oooops...' Gina said with a smile. There was a ripping sound, indiscernible at first, then unmistakably that of cloth giving away until a large section of Lucian's crotch tore asunder in an instant and his vast, angry prong sprang up, vibrating in the air, whisking long silvery threads of precum up in the air with it, the fist-sized head thumping decisively into the side of Gina's face with a loud 'SPLAT'!

There was a moment, and then a long jet of precum spewed, firehose like, out of his cockend, spraying the instrumentation of the cockpit with hot, viscous issue.

'Why don't you let me take over,' Gina suggested with a smirk, even as the massive ships continued its descent through the atmosphere, Lucian's hands no longer on the control joystick but clasping onto the side of his seat. Gina winked suggestively at Lucian, and wrapped her lips around the gleaming, flared bell-end of the hung smuggler, and when Lucian's eyes had come down from rolling around the top of his head he saw Gina get in front of him, her eyes locked onto his, her long legs perfectly straight behind her.

'Underwear is so restrictive,' Gina smiled as she reached behind her and took one of the transparent straps of her PVC thong, hooking it over her asscheeks.

Lucian saw Gina dip her ass a little, and he realised with astonishment that Gina had impaled her tight little asshole on the control joystick, and as she sank her face further down his meatstick, was actually attempting to land the craft with her ass!