The Mouthpiece - [BJ]

The woman, who identified herself as Farasha, was surprised when Commander Smith explained that he was not there to arrest or capture anybody. He only wanted his shipmate back. She pointed to a large miner who lay knocked out on the floor, saying that was Kevex, their Leader, and that he had the key to Lieutenant Hammer's chains.

Commander Smith ordered Petty Officer Dawson to search the **** man. Upon finding the key, Smith said, "Go!"

The Cook ran back to the side tunnel where they had seen Hammer when they first entered. Of course, the noise of the melee had awakened him and he was ecstatic. While he was being freed and getting back into his uniform, Smith was speaking with Farasha. She repeated the arguments she had presented to Lieutenant Hammer (minus certain . . . embellishments . . . of course).

When the miners slowly and groggily sat up and then stood, they were updated by Farasha on their status. Guardian Gladden had taken up position in a far corner where he could keep an eye on the table and those beginning to sit at it. Including, Smith, who sat down in the middle of one of the benches.

"First of all," Commander Smith began, "I don't know if you are aware of it or not, but your **** attempt has failed. Two of them are dead and the third is in critical condition."

From the expressions on their faces, this was news. After a brief pause to allow them to absorb the information, Commander Smith continued. "Secondly, I am basically just a bus driver. It is a matter of supreme indifference to me what goes on at any of the bus stops. I am only concerned with the safety of the people on my bus and any packages I am supposed to deliver. I was sent here to pick up seventy-five tons of Zenite. I have yet to get so much as a single pound."

Smug smiles spread across the faces of the miners and Kevex boasted, "Oh, you will get your ore, but . . . we have delays and problems. You know, loose rails on the tracks for the mine carts. Cave-ins from inadequate shoring. Under manned crews from workers being sick."

"If the High Advisor to the Council agrees to negotiate with you," Commander Smith asked, "Will these . . . delays and problems . . . go away?"

"He won't negotiate," Kevex sneered.

"Oh, yes he will," Commander Smith announced confidently as he stood up. Turning to Farasha, he asked, "You ready to go?"

"NO!" Kevex slammed the table with both hands and jumped up. "You are not taking her hostage!"

Guardian Gladden took half a step forward, training his weapon on the man.

Commander Smith rubbed his hand over his face before squinting across the table at the taller, bigger man. "Are you still disoriented from the neural ray, or are you that stupid?" He stared into that hostile face with the ugly scar on the side. "Yeah. You are that stupid . . . Farasha is going to be your 'mouthpiece'. She'll represent your side at the negotiations."

"No!" Kevex declared. "I am the leader of the movement. I will do the talking."

"I have seen Ishlass," Commander Smith scoffed. "He has a daughter who has him wrapped around her little finger. You will be better served by a female negotiator." A pause. "Believe me." Turning once more to Farasha, the Captain of the 5-EX said, "Let's go."

Grabbing a backpack from a pile of bags and satchels in the corner, Farasha stepped up next to Commander Smith. She stared defiantly and unflinchingly at Kevex. After a few seconds, the leader looked away and Smith, Gladden, and Farasha left that tunnel to join Dawson and Hammer who were waiting in the connecting passage. As the five headed for the exit, Farasha touched Smith's sleeve and she slowed down, letting the other three move further away.

"I want to thank you," she said, looking up at him and tossing her head, the ponytail in back bobbing. "I guess the only way a mining Troglyte with no money could do that would be . . ."

Smith chuckled when Farasha's palm covered his crotch. Grabbing her wrist, he gently moved her hand away. "I can't do that. I am a Solar Guard Officer performing his duties. I can not accept . . . compensation . . . for that." With a shrug, he added, "It's not like you are offering as just a woman to someone who is just a man."

Closing her eyes and tapping her forehead with the finger-tips of her other hand, she sighed, "Already I'm having to negotiate on giving a guy a blowjob?" Opening her eyes, she smiled up at him, partly in amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Richard, as a woman to a man, may I please blow you?"

Sliding his hand past her wrist, he gave Farasha's own hand a squeeze. "Yes . . . I think that can be arranged."

"Good," she said, pausing at the entrance of the mine. The others were idling outside the hover-craft, waiting for their Captain. "As soon as I can, I'll slip into your room or quarters or wherever it is that you sleep."

"Hmmm, we can't do that either," Smith answered, also stopping at the entrance. "The ship is the 5-E-X. Not the S-E-X."

"You are impossible," she laughed, heading towards the vehicle. Smith called Moonwatcher on the Comm-Link, telling him that they had Hammer and that he was basically unharmed.
Moonwatcher: Shall I return to the ship?
Smith: Negative. Stick around until the Bartender or Waitress wakes up. I don't want anyone to just walk in and rob the joint.

When the five got back to the Space Port and boarded the ship, Commander Smith updated Chief Wallace on all that had transpired and explained that Farasha would be bunking in Anderson and Boyce's room for the next few days. For her part, Farasha was slowly circling the Control Room, amazed at what she was seeing. When she expressed her wonderment, the Captain cautioned her not to touch anything.

At Commander Smith's orders, Chief Wallace showed Farasha to her quarters. Meanwhile, Petty Officer Dawson proclaimed cheerfully, "Since everybody is up already, I'm goin' ahead and brew up some coffee and fry some eggs. How do y'all want your rooster bullets?"

About thirty minutes later, as everyone sat around two tables with the remains of their early, early breakfast, the Captain announced, "Alright, let's everyone try to catch a little sleep. We still have a ship to run and Ensign Bauer will be calling us at 0800 Hours."

The group got up to head off to their quarters. The Cook placed the dishes in the sink, planning on washing them in the morning. As the Mess Deck emptied out, Farasha told the Captain, "I think my comb might have fallen out of my backpack when we were walking across the landing pad. Could you help me to look for it."

"Sure," Smith answered immediately, guiding the female Miner towards the hatch to the access ramp. Everyone else had departed the room, but Dawson, still in the Galley, saw/heard the exchange. Exiting the Galley, the Cook walked over to the Robot, deactivating him. Flicking a switch and pressing a few buttons, he said to his Mechanical Shipmate, "Lost comb my ass. Why not jest say they were goin' out to watch the submarine races?"

Sitting in the backseat of the hover-craft Smith and party had hijacked earlier, he and Farasha were unfastening his pants. When they had succeeded in opening them, the female miner slipped her hand inside the fly of his boxers.

"Richard," she asked, drumming her fingers on his organ in a massaging fashion, "What makes you so certain you can get the High Advisor to the negotiating table. After all," she lifted her gaze from his lap to his face to grin up at him, "You're just a bus driver."

"Yes. But it is a very special bus," he answered, draping his left arm around her shoulders while reaching across with his right hand to tug down the zipper of her one-piece jumpsuit. He opened it to her waist and reached inside to cup her breast through her bra.

"Just a moment," the dark-haired Troglyte said as she set up straight. Sliding her jumpsuit off her shoulders, one arm at a time, she pulled her arms through the sleeves, letting the upper portion of her outfit fall behind her. Her bra was next, and once she was topless, her bare breasts at his disposal, she returned to her original task.

"Oooo," she cooed in approval when she found that his cock was now half-erect. Curling her fingers around the shaft, she pulled his manhood through the narrow opening of his shorts, having to 'bend' it to get it out. She gave it a few strokes, coaxing it into the final stages of hardness while Smith fondled her exposed boobs. Squeezing into the soft mounds. Tweaking the nipples.

When she lowered her head and torso, Smith had to move his hand away to give her room to work. Her mouth was wet and warm. After two weeks in space and two days on Adrana, it was like being engulfed by a moist, welcoming Valhalla. She plunged her head up and down, sucking on his cock while gripping it at the base. Her tongue swirled repeatedly over the head as her lips milked his length.

Smith leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing in bliss, his left hand rubbing across her back, from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, while his right made circling motions on the top of her head. He knew that he wouldn't be able to last long, and he didn't even try to hold back. As she sucked him off, making wet, slurping noises, he began to hunch his hips, moaning happily. Sensing his excitement, Farasha bobbed her head faster and started sucking on the male organ in her mouth, her ponytail bouncing and waving. Smith moved his left hand from her back to grab hold of that length of collected hair. Gripping the top of her head with one hand and clasping her ponytail with his other, he jerked her head up and down even faster. She did not resist, but continued to suck and swirl while at the same time pumping on the lower half of his prick with her fist.

"Farasha . . . I'm . . . I'm going to cum," he panted, following the proper fellatio etiquette of warning one's partner of an impending ejaculation. She grunted and nodded her head, indicating that she was ready to receive it. Immediately he started shooting out thick, creamy sperm. Splattering against her palate. Plastering her tonsils. His dick twitched and jerked, firing out a steady barrage of baby-batter.

When at last he was done, his hands fell away from her and he released a long, drawn-out sigh of contentment. She straightened up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead, and made eye contact. Opening her mouth wide, she showed him the pool of opaque whitish fluid collected. Then, closing her mouth, she gave a loud, gulping swallow. She gaped her jaws again, showing him 'all gone'.

Reaching for her bra, she grinned up at him, "How was that, Richard? Do you think I'm a good mouthpiece?"

Laughing, he leaned in to kiss her sperm-coated lips, he answered, "You are a great piece of mouth."