Goob, your male Oranguman engineer

"Oh, Goob," you moan, imagining the orange-haired Oranguman pounding you from behind. He looks like an earth ape and he wears overalls, but you're willing to bet having two sets of hands has its advantages in the bedroom. With that dumb moon-face of his you're not even sure why you're fantasizing about him. Oh, no, it's those big hands. It's easy to imagine a big, huge cock to match. You work your hips and grind back into the Orgasomatix. You'd make him hoot like an orangutan until he blasts your walls with his simian seed.

In your imagination Goob grabs you with his huge hands and manhandles you onto your back. You imitate your imagination and roll onto your back on your bed and throw your legs up in the air. The secondary nub of the Orgasomatix thrusts against your clenched asshole. You relax and slide it in, imagining Goob pounding your pussy with his big dick while he uses one of those fingers to open up your hot little rosebud.

You're really close now. Your finger fumbles on the Orgasomatix, powering it up to max. It whirrs and slushes into your pussy and ass. Your thumb hovers over the ejaculation stud. At the moment your orgasm ripples out from your clit and sends shuddering spasms through your tummy you hit the button and blast your walls with the non-toxic goo inside the reservoir. Oh yes, squirt after hot squirt, just like Goob's big dick exploding in your clutching fuck hole. The goo pumps out and down over your ass and onto the bed. Damn, another stain you're going to have to explain to the laundry droid.

"Oh God, fill me up, Goob," you cry, not caring about the stain.

"Captain?"

Your heart leaps into your throat and you realize the intercom is live and Goob is on the line.

"Uhhhh, I was just," you cough and clear your throat. You shut off the Orgasomatix and try to conceal the cunt-shaking aftershocks of pleasure. "What is it, Goob?"

"Scugg Bollox's ship is on our tail!" shouts Goob. "He's demanding our surrender!"

"Bollox!" you cry and pull the Orgasomatix from your creamy cooze with a slurp and a gush of trapped synthaspunk. Scugg Bollox to be exact, the most vile, disgusting crime lord and **** trader in the entire galactic fringe. And you owe him a lot of money. Time to get dressed and hurry to the bridge, hopefully before Bollox enters weapons' range.