Light Reading
#1 of Eamon's Adventures
It was a small ship. Eamon could walk from the cockpit to the cargo bay and back in less than five minutes. On longer trips it was easy to get a little stir crazy, but space came at a premium on personal vessels like this one, and the roughly disc shaped craft with the living space that dominated the center of it all helped to make up for it. And have everything so close together made it easy to set the ship for autopilot and lay in his comfy bed, secure in the knowledge that if he did need to adjust course it wouldn't take even a minute to get back to the cockpit.
His bed was where he was now. With the door to the living area open and the holographic star chart built into the table out there turned on. If any meteroids came within sensor range he'd know in time to adjust course. It would be another two days before he reached Ceto II if he didn't make any pit stops along the way, and he'd made sure to stock up back on the Benson's moon colony. Nothing to do until then but watch the stars whizzing by and read smutty literature he'd downloaded from the wave. Sometimes, especially when in the grip of a good story, the thought of having someone special to pass the time on these long trips sounded mighty tempting, but his post-orgasmic self knew it would also be too easy in such a crowded space for tempers to flare. Speaking of orgasms...
Eamon bit his lip. The story pulled up on his datapad was getting to the good part. He glanced out the window, and even though it was just a live feed of the stars on the other side, an irrational self-consciousness prompted him to issue a command to the ship's computer.
"Karkinos, shutter windows."
Obediently, the vision of the stars winked out to be replaced by a decorative wall pattern. Eamon returned his attention to the datapad. The protagonist had just been pinned by a larger crewmate, and Eamon thought back to his own days as a pirate. Remembered a red dragon who'd stood head and shoulders above him, imposing and muscular.
"Rhais."
Eamon reached down and fumbled his shorts open, struggling with the button a bit due to the thick fingers of his prosthesis. He thought of Rhais pinning him against a bulkhead, and looked at the datapad. In the story, the bigger crewmate grabbed the protagonist's erection. Eamon stroked his vent with his thick, synthetic fingers and arched into the contact.
"Rhais!"
The datapad laid forgotten, the imaginary Rhais had his full attention. Imagined the older dragon growling possessively and nipping at his neck. How big and warm his body would feel pressed against him, over him. Eamon swallowed and delved one of his fingers deeper into the folds of his sex, brushing over his clit.
"Whose cunt is this?" The imaginary Rhais leered.
Eamon whimpered. "Yours. Yours, fuck, Rhais!"
"Damn right it is you little slut. Look at you, practically falling apart and I haven't even given you my dick yet."
Eamon whined. "Please!" His cunt clenched in anticipation.
"Please what? Use your words you little whore."
"Please, please fuck my cunt Rhais, Rhais!"
Eamon imagined Rhais making a show of considering the request before thrusting into him without warning. He used two fingers and fucked himself, roughly, carelessly. Inventing dialogue for his imaginary mate fell to the wayside now, all that mattered was chasing his orgasm and imaging the big, strong male ruthlessly plundering his cunt. He came not long after, shuddering and hot.
He laid there like that for a while before reaching for a box of tissues to wipe himself off. His cheeks still felt warm, and instead of fastening his shorts back on he unfastened them completely. The laces on the sides came free to allow easy removal without having to be forced over the bulky leg prosthetics. He padded over to the living room that way, still wearing a tight top but with his sex exposed. Pouring a glass of water from the dispenser, he sat down at the large table with the star chart hologram floating above it, and pondered.
Usually an orgasm that intense left him feeling sated and a little giddy, but instead he still felt horny and perhaps even a little jittery.
"It's almost like..."
Eamon's eyes bulged as realization dawned.
"No, no, no, it's too early!"
The shark dashed back to his bedroom and pulled up his calendar on the datapad. He looked at the dates and marks he left for tracking his...
"Nooo..."
Eamon groaned, sagging his shoulders as he read the layout. Although early, it was still within the range of his heat cycle.
"Ugh, so much for making it to Ceto II on schedule."
Eamon flopped on the bed. "So, do I hole up in the orbit of some piece of space debris and try to ride this out, or stop by a way station and hope I can find someone who can fuck my brains out without getting weird about it?"