"alright, here's your payment"

you say as you let your bazoingas fall out of your bra, wobbling tantalizingly as you step forward, presenting yourself.

The Jawas waste little time revealing their throbbing cocks, surprisingly large for their diminutive size, but seem hesitant to expose too much of their flesh to the air. This makes sense, you imagine, as a survival technique. You bash your eyes suggestively as you perch yourself up on a box and spread your legs, inviting them forward.

***

You grunt and moan as you're bent over, inside their ship, as they continue to thrust into you and out of you, fucking you for what has felt like an eternity. An eternity of bliss.

You're embarrassed to say it, but as you feel their little cocks thrusting in and out of you, spasming and pumping you with jizz, your moans are no longer conjured to win their approval as you try to earn a trip home. You're truly enjoying yourself, and you love the attention they give you.

Eventually, they finish, and though you can't really tell what they're saying, it seems they're keeping to their end of the bargain. The trawler powers up, and as you lay in a pile of Jawa cum you try to shake yourself free from the pleasure they wrought upon you.