Hellcats #6: Lovebot 2.0

HELLCATS

Part Six

LOVEBOT 2.0

by Misty Vixen

“Oh my God...yes...right...don't stop! Don't stop! Keep going! Oh...
fuuuuck
!”

Ryan had propped himself up on his hands, staring down at Emily's enormous body. Her heaving, sweat-slicked breasts, her tight stomach, her broad hips. He felt the muscles in her vagina convulsing, clenching and releasing, and a hot wave of juices sprayed across her inner thighs, his lower stomach and legs. Her whole body was writhing and twisting, her hands opening closing, eyes squeezed shut, head pressed back into the pillow. She kept screaming in ecstasy, pressing against him with her hips, riding her orgasm.

He kept going, thrusting into her, trying to sync up their orgasms. Just as she was finishing, he looked up and caught sight of her huge breasts still bouncing from her own pleasure, and that set him off. He started shooting off inside of her, filling her up, feeling his own orgasm washing through in starbursts of unfiltered pleasure. He waited until his dick stopped spasming, slowing down to smaller and smaller twitches, and then he collapsed atop her, resting his head on her breasts. They both laid there, chests heaving, sweat cooling.

“Thank you,” she said.

Ryan knew that was Emily's way of saying she wanted him off of her. It was a step up from when she just said 'Get off me now.' He pulled out and rolled off of her, lying on his back. She laid there for a moment longer, then stood up in one smooth motion. Ryan still liked watching her when she moved. She was graceful, lithe and smooth. The fact that she was nearly seven feet tall and very curvy didn't seem to offset her balance at all.

“Want to shower with me?” she asked.

He was distracted, staring at her huge, pale ass. “What? Oh, yeah.”

“Are you ever not horny?” she asked, turning around.

“I...spent a long time alone,” he replied. “It's like I went from being broke to winning the lottery, I'm still wowed by all the, uh, 'money'.”

Emily snorted. “I guess that makes sense. I'm a little jaded but hey, it's nice for me too. Especially when I do this,” she reached up and made her breasts bounce, “and suddenly every thought in your head derails and you get that dumb look on your face.”

“Everyone likes boobs,” Ryan replied after a moment.

“Yes, they do. But most guys in my line of work tend to have a jaded view of life, even if they have to manufacture it. So when a guy normally looks at my boobs, he has to pretend he doesn't care, been there, done that, he's seen better and sucked on them too.”

“That doesn't sound like much fun,” Ryan murmured, standing up.

“It's not, for either of us. He thinks that if he acts unimpressed I'll have to step up my game and really put out, do whatever he wants and what he wants he thinks I won't give unless there's some added incentive. There's all this...subterfuge and sexual politics...it's bullshit. I hate it. I've never gone for it. I just want to bang and have fun.”

“Me too,” Ryan replied as they stepped into the bathroom.

“And that's one of the reasons you find yourself employed on a ship of women who want to fuck you,” Emily replied.

They got into her shower, which took up half the bathroom in favor of a bathtub. She reached in and turned on the shower. She stepped in and Ryan came in behind her, sliding the glass door shut. Immediately he became soaked. Emily's shower had nozzles built into all three walls and the ceiling, creating a nice mist.

“Here, would you mind?” Emily asked, passing him a bar of soap.

“I'll probably spend some extra time on your boobs and your butt,” Ryan said, lathering up the soap.

Emily snorted. “You spent enough time groping them during sex, I'm sure they could use the extra attention.”

He finished lathering up the soap, then set it aside and began rubbing her breasts. She let out a low, pleasured moan. “That's very nice,” she murmured.

“I have a question,” he said as he kept rubbing her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah...and it's okay if you don't want to answer. But I noticed you're...
really
curvy. I was just curious...”

“I had some work done,” Emily replied. She turned around. “Work my back.”

Ryan lathered some more soap up and began rubbing her immense, firm ass.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“Don't be. I'm not. Also, I said my back. Anyway, I did it a few years ago, thought I could attract more tail that way. You seem to enjoy it, so it wasn't a total waste. Not to mention I've got thicker thighs now and that means that my enemies
really
feel it when I kick their ass.”

Ryan laughed and kept soaping her up.

...

Ryan stepped out into the main hallway, finishing pulling his shirt into place.

“Having fun in there?”

He glanced over. Colleen was just coming out of her room.

“Yeah, what's up?” Ryan replied.

“We're here. Syl and I are going to go grab the package. We've just come into the system and we're linking up with a space station where the package is. You want to come along? I thought you might want to get off the ship.”

“Yeah, that'd be great,” Ryan replied.

Colleen smiled as she walked up to him and stuck her hand out. He took it and she laced their fingers together and squeezed.

“Does it bother you?” Ryan heard himself ask as they walked down the hallway, making for the airlock.

“You banging Emily? No, not at all,” Colleen replied.

“You say that so casually.”

Colleen laughed. “You like me like,
way
more than you like her,” she replied.

“...you say that so casually.”

She laughed again, louder, as they came up to the airlock. “We're not actually linked up with the station yet, it'll be a minute. I know you like me more than you like her. Also, I like you more than she likes you. Emily likes you in the same way she likes a microwave dinner. You make her feel good and you're easy to prep. I like you because you're a nerd and you're nice to me and I finally have a cute human boy I can lay around with in my underwear with and watch cartoons all day if the mood strikes me,” she explained.

“Huh,” Ryan said after a moment.

“Does that bother
you
?”

“No, I like it. I like you...” he leaned over and kissed her. “A lot.”

She smiled. “Good.”

There was a loud clang that reverberated through the ship.

“Sounds like we're here.” They both looked over and saw Syl emerging from the bridge. She looked good in a low-cut t-shirt and a pair thin, tight pants.

“Yep. Ryan wants to join us,” Colleen replied.

Syl smiled and extended her hand. “Good.”

Ryan took it and she laced their fingers and squeezed.

...

The space station they came to was different than the one the Hellcats had picked him up from. Whereas that station had the look and feel of a glorified starport or a contemporary version of the old airports from Earth, this one was larger, seedier and more dangerous. The small personal port they'd locked into had trash on the floor, discarded wrappers and the butts of dead cigarettes, and half the walls were covered in glo-paint.

“This place is creepy,” Ryan murmured.

“Don't worry,” Syl replied as they led him out of the port bay. “We'll protect you.”

Ryan smiled, feeling comforted. He knew it wasn't an idle comment, between Syl's hidden strength and the pistol he'd noticed inside Colleen's hoodie, he knew both badass mercenary babes could kill or lay out any number of bad guys.

They came out of the port bay and stepped into a long, echoing tunnel with poor lighting. It reminded Ryan of old subway tunnels he'd seen in a few historical films they'd made him watch in history class during high school. More glo-paint graffiti, more trash. Everything was made of cheaply welded-together plates of iron. A few people were making their way through the tunnel, eyes downcast, keeping to themselves.

“So where are we going?” Ryan asked as they made their way down the tunnel.

“To meet our contact,” Syl replied. “It's not too far from here.”

They kept walking. Ryan felt excitement stirring within him, mingling with the fear. How many games had he played? Books read? Movies watched? How many of them had action, gunplay, merc work, seedy starports and shifty suspects? He liked to think he was drawn not to any one genre of storytelling but to quality itself, but he knew, in the back of his mind, that gritty noir and hi-fi shooters held a special place for him. He liked watching gun battles, car chases, back room deals gone bad and the anti-hero has to shoot his way out.

Now he was living it.

Okay, well, not really. More like, he was hanging out with a few low-key mercenaries while they picked up a package from some kind of dirty space station. But it was still fun. A lot of fun, actually. He was genuinely enjoying himself. Though some of that probably had to do with the fact that he was high on the chemicals in his head being released from all the sex he was having. He remembered reading that for a while, back in the twentieth and early twenty first centuries, sex was a strangely taboo thing. It was uncommon in society to just straight up ask for it, and was even viewed negatively. Things were somewhat different now.

While galactic civilization wasn't one constant orgy, prostitution was legal and a booming industry and one night stands weren't difficult to come by. There were all sorts of studies that basically pointed to a simple fact of life: sex was healthy. It did all sorts of things to help people, physically, emotionally and psychologically. Sometimes, Ryan wondered why he hadn't had more sexual partners in his life, but he always reluctantly came to the same conclusion. He was just wired a different way: he wanted to have sex with aliens.

And despite society's much more open views on sex, they seemed to have collectively shifted the 'frowned upon' notion to sex with aliens. He didn't see what the big deal was. It wasn't like they were ugly or inhuman with extra eyes or they looked like slugs or something. And yet people acted like going to bed with a Xenian was the equivalent of murder.

They came out of the long, dim tunnel and stepped into what seemed to pass for the main thoroughfare for this station. It was a larger, more open, better-lit tunnel. Dozens of people were walking along now, and not all of them were human, not even most of them. He spied several Xenians and Dysil, a few Cyvits and even a handful of Quine. Ryan stared briefly at the nearest Quine. She was beautiful, tall, elegant. The Quine were originally an aquatic species. They had smooth, almost ethereal white-gray skin and large eyes.

He wondered if he'd meet any.

“How do you feel?” Colleen asked suddenly.

Ryan returned his attention to Colleen and Syl.

“Good,” he replied. But because he sensed that she was asking a deeper question, not a simple platitude, he thought about it a little more. Finally, he said, “I feel like...how I thought it would feel to be really cool in high school.”

Syl burst out laughing. “High school, huh? Well, as long as you've achieved that level of cool, I guess that's all that matters.”

“Ugh, high school,” Colleen muttered. “I am the only one who still gets high school nightmares?” she asked.

“No,” Syl replied with conviction.

“Definitely not,” Ryan replied. He shuddered. “I still have nightmares that I have to go back for some reason, put up with all the social awkwardness, the indignities, everyone fighting so hard to prove how cool they are...”

“It's even less fun when you're a Cyvit going to a human high school,” Colleen replied glumly.

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Xenian high school isn't much better, especially when it gets out that you've got a crush on the human foreign exchange student,” Syl said.

“I so wish we could have gone to school together,” Ryan said. “I know I'd at least be a lot happier if we'd met.”

“Oh my God, I so would've jumped you if we'd been friends back then,” Colleen replied.

“Me too,” Syl said, smirking.

They both leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

…

The place they were going to turn out to be a long, narrow warehouse, one in a line of fifty just off the main thoroughfare. The girls disengaged their hands from his and began looking around. They didn't seem worried, more like alert. Cautious. Ryan wondered if he should have grabbed a gun from the ship, then decided it would've been stupid. He hadn't shot a gun once in his life. The warehouse was mostly empty and reminded him of his high school gymnasium. Their boots echoed hollowly as they walked through it, towards a pair of people about halfway down the length of the warehouse. One sat on a small crate while the other stood.

The one sitting on the crate was a man, he was thin, young and wore a gray overcoat. Despite the poor lighting he wore wraparound sunglasses. He looked like an extra from a bad action movie. The one who stood was a tall woman with obvious muscles who liked to show them off. She wore a tanktop and baggy cargo pants and had severely cut, short black hair. Her stance and the way she crossed her arms made Ryan think of Emily.