Appraisal

I wake the next morning to Martin shifting against me and a hard object pressing insistently against my thigh. "Your friend is back," I whisper. My hand reaches to grasp the engorged cock. "Here or shower?"

"Hmm?" says Martin sleepily.

"I am going to take care of this," I say in a tone that brooks no disagreement. "But the choice is yours--here or shower?"

He does not answer. His breath hitches against my ear when I pinch his tip. "Here," he finally says.

I slip off the bed, allowing him to lie on his back, his cock pointing at the sunstrand above. After spitting into my hands, I place both upon his shaft and begin to squeeze and tug. "Let me know when you are close," I warn.

He nods. We pass the next few moments in silence, broken only by his ragged breathing.

"So...these council members," he says, his voice strained. "Politicians? Stuffed suits? Though without the suits, I imagine."

"I don't quite follow the expression," I say, "but if you mean to imply that they are indolent, that could not be further from the truth. They work as everyone does."

He considers this. "Still, the leaders of your world, this ship. What am I supposed to say?"

"Be polite. Be honest. Er, probably in that order. What else can you do?"

"Yeah," he breathes out. "Marissa...Marissa, I'm close." I lean down and capture his large head between my lips. As I continue to jerk upon his shaft, his semen spews into my mouth. I struggle to contain all of his emissions, but at last his cock goes quiescent. I stand and swallow, running my tongue around the inside of my mouth to pick up any remaining clumps. Martin stares at me through half-lidded eyes, a smile of contentment on his face.

Today is razor day. While Martin is showering nearby, I take one from my utilities and run it along my legs and arms. I leave my mound for last, trimming the hair there to leave a small tuft just above my cunt.

Once we've finished cleaning and put on our utilities and boots, I speak. "Auto, Martin and I are ready to go."

"Excellent work, Marissa. As I said yesterday, two council members wish to speak to Martin. The first is Councilor Amy, who can currently be found near the oak tree."

Following Auto's instructions, we reach a small woman perhaps a little less than a hundred and fifty hundreds. The dark bobs of hair on either side of her face shift about as she bends over to trim the grass between the oak and the path. When she sees us approach, she straightens and regards us with piercing blue eyes.

"Oy, sleeper," she says. "You are welcome."

"Uh, hello," says Martin. "It's nice to meet you."

"Auto told me you were passing through on your way redward, and I wanted to see you for myself." She cocks her neck slightly. I can't help but notice how her gaze travels downward, openly appraising Martin's tool, limp after my earlier ministrations, yet sizeable. "You seem a nice-enough young man. And I see you've adjusted quickly to our...ways. I feel obliged to tell you that I and many on the council strongly feel you should not have been awoken."

"Why is that?" asks Martin.

"No opprobrium to you, of course. It simply was not Auto's will. He did not recommend this course. Yet Valerie insisted, and it is her right to do so."

"What about these other decisions? Turning the ship towards this planet? Keeping it all a secret?"

"By Auto!" she hisses. "Not so loud!"

"Oh, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to offend."

"It is alright...To answer your question, of course I approve of those. They were explicit recommendations from Auto. He made his will quite clear."

"And how do you feel about when it all happens? And when...you know...? It would be in all of our lifetimes."

"You are wondering if I am worried?" she asks. "No. Why should I be, when Auto thinks it is best?"

"I...see. Was there anything else you wanted from me?"

She shakes her head. "I shouldn't keep you any longer. I hope your task goes well. I believe Councilor Gerard also wished to speak with you. He's at the docks."

"Thank you, councilor." As we're moving down the path, Martin turns to me. "What did you make of that?"

"I'm not sure there was much to make. She's one of the true believers. Everyone seeks Auto's advice and follows his recommendations, but only they speak of 'his will', some all-encompassing plan."

"I can see the point," he murmurs. "This ship, its closed systems, this weird form of extreme communism you've got going on--There's no way any of it hangs together for over five thousand years without that AI. But I can't help but find it all a little...disconcerting. What do you think?"

"I like Auto," I say firmly. "I know that he's knowledgeable and intelligent far beyond our understanding and that he means us no harm. But I also know for certain that he isn't infallible. And it seems like a waste of a good council position to agree automatically with everything he says."

"I'm with you there," Martin says. By this time, we've reached the docks. "I wonder what this other councilor wants to say?"