I decided to make conversation.
“So, uh, what are you working on there?” I said.
He started, which only added coal to the fire of my contempt for him. He’d forgotten I was even there!
“A little project I’m working on,” he said, turning the cylinders so they faced a slightly different direction.
“What’s its purpose?” I said.
He looked over at me—at my face and not my body. Only then did it occur to me that earlier, he hadn’t been admiring my swollen breasts, he’d been infatuated with my broach!
“I can’t tell you that,” he said secretively. “I’m not even sure it’ll work.”
I appraised the machine and couldn’t even begin to figure out what it was meant for. My expertise was in the domain of the past, not this futuristic technology.
“Have you been here a long time?” I said.
“Six months. You?”
“A year.”
He nodded but didn’t give any indication he wanted to continue the conversation.
“Where are you from?” I said. “Which species are you?”
“Originally, planet Vulcar. I’m a Vulcarian.”
Vulcarian… Vulcarian… Hadn’t I heard something about that species before? I could swear one of the girls—or one of the other prisoners—had said something about it…
“What are Vulcarians famous for?” I said.
If it was one thing I had learned about alien species, it was that they were all proud of the fact their species was uniquely gifted at one enterprise or another.
“Raiding and pillaging, mostly,” Egara said.
Raiding and pillaging! That was it!
The Vulcarians were the intergalactic equivalent of pirates. I heard about them from both prisoners and Prizes because they were a constant pest to their civilizations. It was hard enough to develop an empire with multiple colonies without having pirates hijack your merchandise every time you turned around.
Still, it annoyed me he was paying more attention to his device than to me. I felt the vial of lubricant in my hand and suddenly, the warnings from the other Prizes became a well of curiosity.
What made him so good in bed and the other prisoners poor by comparison? I wondered. They weren’t bad bedmates but what made Egara so much better?
Curiosity got the better of me and I had an idea.
Was I seriously thinking about doing this? I thought. Was I seriously going to provoke Egara into action?
I gnawed my bottom lip and decided that yes, I would. I was too curious about what made him such a great lover.
I laid back on the bed and placed my feet on the bedspread. I eased my feet apart so my pussy was on full show, not more than a few feet from him on the floor.
I popped the lid on the vial, slid a finger into it, lowered my hand to my slit, and ran my finger inside, rubbing at myself the way I liked.
He was going to fuck me later anyway, so why not warm up and prepare myself for the festivities?
It was an endless source of fascination for my classmates at college that I could be such a nerdy bookworm at school and such a party-going slut in the evenings.
I never understood their way of thinking. Those who most needed respite from work were the ones who worked the hardest.
I groaned breathily as I stroked myself. My nipples followed suit and turned pert and hard.
Egara glanced up at me before turning back to his beloved machine. He paused and looked up at me again.
This time, I had his attention.
I squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples as my fingers worked their magic, making me warmer and wetter each time I dived deep.
I opened my eyes and looked over at him.
Daring him.
Challenging him.
His eyes roamed from my soft loins, up my body, to my hand clasped firmly around my breast.
His nostrils flattened, turning broad. He snorted. His eyes turned waxen and misty and shoved the plastic box under the bed with a violent kick. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the floor.
He unzipped his fly and let his shorts fall. He didn’t kick them off.
I peered at his large cock standing proud. Big, but not the biggest I had seen. It was his staying power that was legendary, not his size, I reminded myself.
I dipped my fingers into the vial again and added the lubrication to my pussy.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me toward the side of the bed. There was no warmup, no teasing, as he slammed his bulging cock deep inside me.
I gasped and let out a slow breath.
He peered down at me as he moved his hips back and forth. I rubbed my clit before thinking better of it. I was wet enough for him to do what he wanted with me.
What I needed from him.
My breasts bounced as he fucked me hard, making me slide backward. I braced myself on the wall.
Jackhammer indeed.
He went for me hard, and when I thought it was about time for him to slow down and shift to a lower gear the way most lovers did, he didn’t.
He just kept on going, pummeling me and taking me deeper and deeper. I wondered how he could keep going, how he could keep slamming me without growing overexcited.
I tightened around him and screamed as he tore an orgasm from my chest.
And still, he did not stop.
I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. I had brought this on myself.
My dress gathered around my hips as he finally shifted position, placing one hoof on the bed and my legs across his chest. My legs couldn’t even reach his shoulders otherwise my knees would be resting on them.
With the opening sprint over, he set to his long game.
Slower this time, luxurious and delicious, he kept up the slow pace for longer than I dared to imagine. Each time I stiffened, my hands found his fingers holding on tightly to my hips and pinning me in place.
The sweat dried on my
