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Chapter 10
by Richard_Smith
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Rum And Coca Cola - [BJ]
Around 1000 Hours the next morning, the Port Foreman's office called, requesting a meeting with Commander Smith. It was noon before he returned, carrying a canvas bag. Lunch was just being served. There was a large bowl of steamed white rice on each table and Dawson was bringing two bowls of brown gravy from the Galley. However, Smith did not sit at his regular table right away. Instead, he chose an empty table to place the bag on and then sat down behind it. All of the seated men's eyes were on him, wondering what he was up to. (Except Lieutenant Moonwatcher, who had not gotten off Watch until 0800 Hours and was still asleep in his quarters.)
They did not have to wonder for long.
"What the blazes did you guys do in town last night?" Smith asked, looking from one man to the other. He had not raised his voice, and his expression was one of curiosity.
"Well, Larry and I, er, Lieutenant Moonwatcher and I," Hammer shifted into a more military form of reference, recognizing that this conversation was probably not 'off the record'. "Had a few drinks in one of the local bars. Well, maybe more than a few."
Again Dawson came out of the Galley, this time with two bowls of fried okra. As he sat them down and headed back for more food, he said, "I kinda got laid."
"Wait, wait, wait," Smith replied, halting the Cook in his tracks. "How do you kinda get laid? I can understand 'nearly got laid' or 'almost got laid'. But how do you kinda get laid? Either you did or you didn't." But he did not give the man a chance to answer. Instead, he waved his hand in the air and said, "Never mind. It's not important."
"And Boatswain," Smith looked over at Chief Wallace, "I don't even want to know what you did last night."
As Dawson brought out the pot roast, it suddenly dawned on Smith that the men were not eating. "Go ahead," he gestured to the tabletops, "Eat before your food gets cold. I assume you men are capable of chewing and listening at the same time."
He gave them a few seconds to start filling their plates before he continued. "The Port Foreman said when he got to work this morning, outside the gate was a madhouse. He had to call in extra security. Not just for the gate, but to patrol the fence. To keep people from digging under or climbing over. Seems like there was a mob of vendors, beggars, huskers clamoring outside. Wanting to get in close to the 5-EX."
Everyone exchanged glances, puzzled by the situation. "Anyway, I know what happened. It was my fault. I should have realized that you can not use 'hard currency' in a society like the Troglytes. The locals now think we are all rich off-worlders." That was when he reached into his bag and pulled out stacks of bundled strips of paper. "I should have made sure you all had these. Everyone take a stack. It should get you through the rest of our stay."
Lieutenant Hammer was the first to respond, leaving his table to grab a bundle. After he tucked it into his tunic, he reached for his wallet, asking, "How much do I owe you?"
"This is on me," Smith answered. "I'll put in for reimbursement when we get back to Merak II. But . . . if you need more funds, those I will ask you to pay for."
As the men came over for the money, Smith added, "Especially if you kinda need more funds."
After everyone had finished lunch, including Smith, Hammer waited until the others had left the Mess Deck before asking, "Just out of curiosity, Captain, what rate of exchange did the Port Foreman give you?"
When Smith told him, Hammer wenched, saying, "Ooo . . . The owner of the bar we were in last night would have given you fifty percent more."
"Mmmm," Smith nodded his head unperturbed. "But by paying a higher rate and letting the Port Foreman make more profit, I have purchased his loyalty. At least as far as the ship is concerned. He will protect it like a mother hen. In his eyes, this ship is now the S.S. Goose-That-Lays-The-Golden-Eggs."
"Let's just hope it's not like in the story," Hammer replied. "If he cuts this Goose open, he will find a whole bunch of golden eggs. Not just the normal entrails."
"I know," Smith's face became serious. "The sooner we get those funds transferred, the better I can sleep at night."
When the Captain arose, taking the bag to his quarters to lock up in his safe, Hammer watched him depart. The First Officer thought about what the Skipper had said in reference to buying the chits from the Port Foreman rather than the saloonkeeper. Hammer knew that he had a lot more to learn before he would be ready for his own Command. But then, this was only his first voyage as Second-In-Command. He had plenty of time.
A little before midnight, Lieutenant Moonwatcher returned to the ship to relieve Chief Wallace on Watch.
"How is it out there?" Wallace asked while making the final entries into his log.
"Not too bad," was Moonwatcher's reply. "It was crazy this afternoon when I left the base. People trying to sell fresh fruit, homemade food, cold drinks, trinkets, articles of clothing. Plus your usual beggars and street urchins . . . Just now when I came back, there were only a few diehards milling around."
About thirty minutes later Chief Petty Officer Abram Wallace was strolling through the Main Gate, nodding to the guards as he did so. Outside the fenced-in area of the Space Port was an expansive area covered with black asphalt. This was where cargo, either outbound or inbound, was stored inside large, locked metal containers. Some of them up to forty feet long. The cargo remained there until either the owners picked up the container, or the container was 'stripped' by the Longshoremen and the contents loaded onboard a ship.
Several tall poles with lights and security cameras were scattered throughout the open space, although most of the zone was draped in shadows. Also, there were the scheduled hourly or bi-hourly foot patrols. This was where he encountered the locals.
After saying 'no', 'perhaps some other time', 'not right now, thank you' and other such phrases, he thought he had run the gauntlet and was on his way to town . . . There was one final obstacle.
"Hey, Spacer," a feminine voice called out from the darkness, "Want a blowjob?"
Mentally, Chief Wallace's 'engine order telegraph' registered 'Full Stop'.
The woman who stepped out of the shadows was slightly shorter than Wallace's own five-feet-eight. She might have been fife-six or five-five. Her blonde hair was cut in a crop, short on the back and sides, slightly longer on the top with short bangs. (Who did that remind him of?) She was not fat. Far from it. Not even pudgy, but her body was filled out, with curves in all the right places. This was accentuated by her clean, khaki-colored jumpsuit. The garment was tight. Very tight. Probably two sizes too small, and Wallace suspected that she had borrowed it from a friend. He certainly could not picture anyone digging for mineral ore in such a snug outfit.
"How much?" he asked the young woman; she appeared to be in her twenties. When she quoted what Wallace considered to be a reasonable price, his next question was, "Where?"
Looking around uncertainly, she at last pointed to a container, saying, "Behind there."
He handed her the money, or what served as money, and followed her between two containers spaced ten feet apart. The Chief unzipped himself and hauled out his flaccid cock while the woman stepped up close to him, bending way over from the waist. He could understand that, the asphalt would probably be uncomfortable on her knees. Placing one hand on his waist to maintain her balance, she delicately took the soft penis between the tips of her thumb and first two fingers of her other hand. Even in the dim light of the canyon formed by the two containers, Wallace could see that her nails were short, further indication that she was a mineworker trying to . . . supplement her income.
Lifting the limp organ, the woman closed her lips around the head and started to suck on it. At the same time, she quickly moved her thumb and fingers back and forth, trying to get him erect. Slowly but irrevocably, his dick began to grow. Becoming longer and thicker as she worked on it. When he achieved enough of an erection for her to wrap her hand around the shaft, she did so. Pulling and tugging on it while swirling her tongue around the spongy head. Lifting her head and standing up straight, but continuing to stroke him, she reposition her feet then dove back in. Her head and upper body bobbed up and down as she worked to get him off.
So far, Wallace had not touched her. He merely stood there with his arms by his side, watching her movements in the shadowy dimness. By now she had her fist up against her mouth and her hand and head worked in unison, both her lips and fingers milking his shaft. She made loud, wet, slobbering noises and from time to time she would remove her mouth to take a deep breath or two. But always she returned to sucking him off.
Her movements eventually began to get to Wallace, and the Chief reached down to lightly place his hand on top of her head, following her up and down motions. While she continued to suck and jerk, he rearranged his own foot placement, sliding them further apart and bending his knees. His hips started hunching, sliding his cock in and out of her clutching fingers and her wet mouth. With his other hand, he covered her hand at his waist, squeezing into it as they worked together to get him off.
The woman rolled her eyes upward to look at Wallace's face, potentially to see if he was getting close. When they made eye-contact, he winked at her and smiled. Shifting her feet around again, she continued her persistent fellatio, intent on making him 'bust his nut'.
When he moved his hand from atop her hand to rest on one side of her head, while sliding his other hand down to the opposite side of her head, she sucked harder and tried to bob faster. Figuring that he was nearing an ejaculation. For his own part, Wallace's hunching turned into thrusting and he started breathing loudly, sucking in air deeply and rapidly. The bent over woman continued her job, sucking and pumping, spit drooling from the corners of her mouth.
Suddenly, without giving her any warning, his cock erupted inside her mouth. Spewing out thick cum like lava flowing from a volcano. The blonde headed woman let out a muffled gasp, and pumped the twitching, jerking shaft as fast and hard as she could. Her cheeks bulged from the load of baby-batter she was collecting in her mouth, but still the torrent did not cease. Some of the gooey spunk dribbled from the corners of her mouth.
When at last he did stop discharging, she quickly lifted her head and, turning to her side, spat the large accumulated wad of sperm out onto the asphalt. Continuing to stroke his cock, but much slower now, she spat again. And a third time. Standing up straight, she let go of the rapidly deflating dick and wiped at the corners of her mouth. Looking up at him, she asked, "We're good?"
Wallace was already putting his cock away and zipping up. He nodded and replied, "We're good."
As she walked off in one direction, Wallace turned to walk off in the other. Returning to the ship. No point in going into town now. 'Running the gauntlet' once more and nodding to the gate guards, he thought that maybe being stuck on Ardana wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all.
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Spaceship 5-EX
United Planets Cruiser 5-EX
One of the first faster than light spaceships
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- Handjob, Blowjob, Bondage, Pegging, Interracial, Anal Sex, Threesome, Anal, Cunnilingus, Erotic Coupling, Lesbian, Fucking Machine, Submission, CFNM
Updated on Feb 8, 2021
by Richard_Smith
Created on Feb 24, 2006
by Richard_Smith
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