Navigation lesson, interrupted

Pinga smoothed her borrowed dress as she nervously climbed the stairs toward the bridge. She remembered well how appalled Nepthys had been when Pinga had shown up top all sweaty and messy. And while the computer tech wouldn’t be present, the way Macha and Nepthys had stressed that Bari was nobility probably meant the pilot would be even stricter about decorum. Not to mention those unwritten rules Metzli had warned her about:

“Always sexy, always flawless.”

Pinga took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. There wasn’t much she could do, in any case. She didn’t have any clothes nor curves, meaning anything borrowed from the others hung awkwardly on her slim frame. Her hair would take weeks to grow fully back. Nothing to it—she’d have to do her best with what she had, just like always.

As she stepped out from the staircase, she took in the bridge. Soft music played in the background, something melodic with strings. The control stations were the same as before, each personalized for a bridge member, arranged in a semi-circle around the Captain’s large command chair at the center. No windows—that would be a structural weakness. The lights were gentle, bathing the entire bridge in a warm glow.

Amaterasu sat at her station, black-brown hair teased into two giant, high ponytails that made Pinga wonder what sort of biological sorcery had gone into her scalp—no natural head of hair could be that voluminous! Nor could those monstrous tits Amaterasu had stuffed into a glittering minidress, its spaghetti straps straining under the pressure. Pinga couldn’t help but stare. They were just so… big. Her vocabulary failed to produce anything more suitable.

The navigator spun her chair to face Pinga and clearly noticed where her eyes were lingering. With a sly smirk and a giggle, Amaterasu leaned forward, letting Pinga stare into the abyss of her endless cleavage. Then, she rose to her towering peep-toe heels and closed the distance to hug Pinga tight, crushing the younger girl against her mammoth chest. Pinga could hardly breathe, though she caught a whiff of Amaterasu’s sweet perfume.

Amaterasu let go but not before kissing Pinga on both cheeks, leaving faint smudges of red lipstick behind.

“Let’s get to it, shall we?” She pulled Pinga along as she returned to her station. Bari, wearing one of her trademark skintight minidresses—this time in blazing red—waved from the pilot station.

“Astrogation is actually pretty simple,” Amaterasu began, pulling up two different maps on her side monitors and a navigation plotting program on the central one. “This one shows the galaxy—or rather, our local stellar neighborhood. The galaxy itself is far too large! So first, you press that button to bring up the known jump-ship routes.” She pointed with a white-painted nail. Pinga gingerly pressed the button, and a labyrinth of colored lines sprang onto the screen.

“Good! Now, let’s say the Captain wants to go to the Centauri Republic. You need to sort out the route, but the computer does most of the heavy lifting. Press that one.” Amaterasu pointed again. Pinga obeyed, tapping the indicated key. A menu appeared, asking for a destination.

“Now, type in your destination,” Amaterasu urged, running a hand along Pinga’s shoulders. Pinga carefully, using only two fingers, typed in Centauri Republic, only to be met with an error message. Amaterasu giggled.

“Silly bunny, Centauri Republic is the name of the state, not the system! Type in Alpha Centauri instead.”

Pinga followed the correction, cheeks pink, and this time the monitor lit up with a highlighted route. It looked… complicated.

“Now, you always double-check the route,” Amaterasu said, gently pushing Pinga aside so she could type herself. “The computer doesn’t know if you want to avoid certain systems—or if the Captain wants to stop somewhere unexpected.”

She demonstrated quickly, fingers flying over the keys.

“And once we’ve plotted each jump, we send the route to the system map—there—” She pointed at the other monitor. “Then we calculate the burn times for each system so we catch the jump ship, and of course, in the final system we need to—” Amaterasu broke off suddenly, smiling wide.

“—oh. Hello, Captain.”

Pinga jumped. How had he snuck up on them like that?

“Go on, Ama,” Luke said with a friendly smile, nodding to Pinga as he stepped behind the two women.
“Of course, Captain! So, Pinga, you set up your starting point on the system map, let’s say heeere—”
Amaterasu’s words turned into a low, throaty moan as two strong, calloused hands swept up her torso and grasped her massive breasts.
“And… and… then you mark your destination like… thiiiiiis!”
The first touch had made Amaterasu’s nipples pop hard, instantly visible through the glittering dress, which drew a hungry grin from Luke who squeezed them with wanton eagerness. He didn’t stop there. One big hand pushed inside her bodice, snapping a strained strap, while his other hand slipped two fingers between Amaterasu’s crimson lips.

“On second thought… let Bari take over,” the Captain growled.

Pinga hastily vacated the area, stumbling over to the pilot station. Bari sat there, one long leg crossed over the other, her face flushed and eyes glassy. Both her hands clutched her own breasts over her minidress as though trying to pretend they were the ones being manhandled.

Luke dragged Amaterasu to her feet and toward his throne, devouring her mouth in a fierce kiss as he squeezed her meaty ass with both hands. Rolling the hem of her dress up to her waist, he dropped into his seat. Amaterasu immediately knelt between his legs, panting, her fingers trembling as she freed his rapidly hardening cock. She gave it a brief, worshipful kiss before swallowing him down with a lusty moan.

“Uh… okay, bunny, pay attention,” Bari stammered, trying to regain her composure. Pinga tore her eyes away from the obscene show and forced herself to focus on the pilot. But Bari was visibly struggling. Her breath hitched, cheeks red, and one hand hovered near the hem of her dress.

“So, uh… once Amaterasu has plotted the course, it’s my job to… uh—”

A loud wet gag echoed through the bridge. Both women glanced over to see the Captain gripping Amaterasu’s hair, forcing her down until her throat visibly bulged around him.

“That’s my good girl,” he rumbled. “Hold it deep. Show me how much you want it.” Amaterasu’s mascara was already dripping in black rivulets down her cheeks.

“Fuck the lesson,” Bari hissed. She tried to drop her leg back down but couldn’t help herself, thigh hitching up over her armrest as her hand slipped beneath her red panties. “Gods… this is impossible,” she gasped, casting Pinga a frazzled look. “How the hell am I supposed to teach you like this?” Pinga swallowed hard, cheeks burning. Metzli had warned her, but seeing it unfold was a different thing entirely. And she couldn’t deny the molten heat pooling low in her belly. Her fingers twitched, itching to join the dance under her skirt.

Bari and Pinga both watched in silent awe as the Captain took his pleasure, utterly in command as he fucked the throat of their voluptuous navigator. Pinga was stunned at how quickly her shock was giving way to fascination… and desire. It was dizzying how the scene both terrified and entranced her.

“That’s it, that’s my perfect slut,” Luke growled as he drove forward one last time, emptying himself deep in Amaterasu’s throat. As he pulled out, his cock glistened with red lipstick and saliva. Amaterasu opened her mouth wide, eyes glassy, showing him the load before swallowing obediently.

Luke pulled her up into his lap, cradling her like a kitten. He hugged her close, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair gently. Amaterasu kept her eyes closed, a blissful smile on her face despite the smudged ruin of her makeup.

Then Luke turned his piercing gaze toward Bari and Pinga.

“Don’t you two have a job to do?”

The two women jerked back to the console, fumbling for buttons and controls. Bari leaned close to Pinga and whispered, voice still ragged with arousal:
“It’s not over yet, mark my words. Let’s see how far we get… before it’s my turn.”
Pinga wasn’t even surprised anymore by the eager hunger in the pilot’s voice. She just wondered how long it would be before she felt the same.