Tight Quarters

There were few things more dispiriting than watching the blinking light that signalled the distress beacon was still active.

Well, there was one thing, and that would be if the light went out.

"Well, Deacon?"

Deacon sighed and glanced back at Cid, the former chief of security to theSidewinder. "Still active, sir."

"Any responses?"

Deacon bit back a sarcastic reply, even thought the answer was the same one he'd given the last hundred times Cid had asked. The same one he'd given ever since those pirates had hit theSidewinder, lance batteries ripping apart the merchant ship's engines and bulkheads in a vicious salvo. Deacon, Melia, and Cid had barely enough time to reach the escape pod and launch before the ship had been boarded. And well, Deacon could only hope the rest of the crew had died to decompression. Falling victims to pirates would be a fate far worse.

"Nothing yet," Deacon said. "I'll let you know the second I hear something."

"Leave him alone," Melia groaned from the back of the pod, her hair shimmering with a rainbow of shifting colours. She reclined on a bench, her toned body modded with scales, horns, and a dozen other additions not visible through her tattered uniform. "We'll know when we know. Get it?"

Cid visibly tightened his lips with annoyance and stiffly nodded, then stepped back into the tight confines of the pod, pacing impatiently. Deacon felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Cid naturally blamed himself for the pirate attack. There hadn't been anything any of them could have done, but Deacon knew the failure weighed on the former head of security. Their current helplessness and situation grating on the fit, powerful figure.

Deacon took a more pragmatic view. He understood that some things were just out of their power. He actually snorted at that. Yeah. Story of his damn life. He'd hoped that running as an engineer of a merchant ship would net him enough credits to finally pay off his debts to those lenders. Maybe even have enough left over for a vacation.

Well, if nothing changed, he'd be getting a vacation from space faring alright. A permanent one.

Wrapped in those gloomy thoughts, he almost missed the blip of light on the console's short-ranged radar. And when he did see it, he barely dared believe.

"We... we got a contact!" he shouted.

Instantly his fellow cremates were at his side, staring raptly at the blipping light on the radar.

"What is it?" Cid asked. "Pirates?"

"Who cares!" Melia gasped, her hair shimmering red with excitement. "It's someone who can give us a ride!"

"Don't be a fool. They could be dangerous," Cid growled.

"We've got maybe six hours of air left and aren't on any major trade routes," Melia snapped back. "We're dead if we do nothing. Boost the fucking signal!"

Deacon nodded, agreeing with her. Though his engineering soul cringed from doing it, he diverted more of their precious power reserves to the distress beacon.

Breathlessly, the three of them watched the blinking light of the other ship move across the screen. Then, just as Deacon felt his stomach bottom into his feet, the blipping light changed course.

"They see us!" Melia cheered, grabbing Deacon and hugging his head into the softness of her sweaty breasts. "Thank the fucking stars! They see us!"

Cid said nothing, but Deacon saw the stoic man's shoulders relax and a flicker of relief cross his face.

For his part, Deacon could almost weep as the strange ship closed with them. They felt their pod shudder, and his organs settle more firmly in his body as they entered the gravity envelope of the other craft. He looked to the side hatch as there came the familiar hiss of locks and snap of sealing magnets. The light above the door switched on to green, marking them ready to board.

Deacon stood and hurried to the door, grabbing the handle and wrenching it open. He actually moaned as fresh air rushed into his face and up his nose. Fesh air scented with something... fruity.

"Come aboard, poor things. Please, do."

Deacon pushed into the hall of the other ship and stopped short, staring in shock.

Three women awaited them. Aliens, to be sure, though with gene modding these days it could be hard to tell. All three were stunningly beautiful, with soft, full lips and absolutely jaw-dropping curves. Their skin was a lush green and their figures barely clothed, their hair a bright red and so full they crowned them, making their already commanding height seem even larger.

The biggest difference he could see was in how they styled their hair and clothed themselves. One wore something like a loose toga, her hair hanging down to her lower back, her height slightly shorter than her companions, but her soft curves even more pronounced.

The second wore little more than three pasties, one covering each of her nipples, and a third dipping between her legs to mask her nethers. Her hair was bound in a bun behind her head, and her expression radiated a matronly benevolence and downright motherly authority.

The final alien stood ahead of the others, her smile warm and comforting, her figure firmer, almost lithe, and bound in a tight white body suit with a badge denoting she was a medic on her breast. Her hair was cropped short, while she radiated a professional yet caring air.

But it wasn't the beauty of the aliens that shocked Deacon, though that might have been enough. Nor was it their almost ludicrous feminine sensuality. No. His surprise was because he recognized them. Or, at least, descriptions of them.

Moomas.

A very rare and very private alien species around whom strange rumours circulated. Especially when it came to humans. Deacon had heard that moomas were known for keeping human pets, and he felt an instant thrill of alarm and, it needed to be said, arousal at the sight of the inhumanely lovely aliens.

"Welcome aboard theStargazer," the mooma in white said. "We're so glad we caught your distress beacon. We almost missed it."

"Uh, yeah. Good," Deacon said, even as Melia and Cid pushed their way past him, pausing at the sight of the green trio.

"Woah," Deacon heard Melia breathe.

Cid cleared his throat and stepped forward authoritatively. "We're... thankful for your assistance," he said. "Our ship was destroyed in a pirate attack."

"Oh you poor things!" the mooma in the toga cried, clapping her hands over her mouth. "That's simple awful!"

"It... was, yes," Cid said, and Deacon was surprised to see the normally grim and stoic man flush a bit. "It was very unfortunate. We would be much obliged if you could see it in your way to transport us to a station where we could disembark and report the loss."

"We would be happy to," the nearly naked mooma said, her gentle smile radiating a comforting warmth that said everything was going to be alright. "Are any of you injured? Our medic, Amara, will be glad to check you in the medical bay."

"I'm uh, feeling a bit groggy," Melia said.

"Well that won't do," the pasty-wearing mooma said gently. "Amara? Can you take her to the med bay and check her out? And Looma? Would you mind helping this officer in the guidance room? Perhaps there's a place where we could drop them off not far..."

"Of course, Matron Benna," Amara, the uniformed medic, said, taking Melia's hand. "This way, sweet thing."

Blushing visibly, Melia gladly trotted after the gorgeous mooma and down the gleaming white hallways.

As she vanished, Deacon leaned in to Cid, holding his arm to forestall him. "Careful, sir," he whispered. "These aliens may not be as helpful as they seem..."

Cid gave him a measuring look, then spared the faintest of nods before heading off after the toga-clad mooma.

And then there was one, Deacon though glumly. He stole a glance at Benna, who watched the others vanish on their tasks. Then she turned to Deacon with a benevolent smile, and a strange light in her radiant eyes.

"Now then," she said warmly. "Shall I show you to your quarters for the trip?"

"Yeah," Deacon said uneasily. "That sounds... sounds good..."

Cid

Cid

Cid had to say, he was impressed at the mooma's bridge. A true pleasure yacht, it was an expansive space that easily fit the necessary stations with room to spare. All of it was made of the strange, white metal that formed the rest of the ship, the material seeming to glow with its own luminance. Consoles blinked and screens projected space beyond theStargazer'scurving hull. It was far nicer than theSidewinderhad ever been, though admittedly that ship had been little more than a box for ferrying goods from one point to another, the crew's accommodation and quarters almost more of a begrudging necessity than with any thought to comfort. Which was likely part of why they'd been such easy prey for the pirates.

Pirates.

Cid scowled and his fists tightened at the memory of his helplessness during the attack. Able to do little more than run to the escape pod as his ship was gutted, his people slaughtered, all without him able to fire even a shot in its defence.

"Are you alright, Cid?"

He shook off the emotional stirring. "Hm?" he said, refocusing on the mooma. She was half-leaning over a large, rounded table projecting a holo of the nearby star systems, her immense breasts breaking into the projection field like some invading star beast. "Yes, sorry," he said with a dismissive wave. "Perfectly alright. Just... thinking."

"About?" Looma asked, straightening, her breasts wobbling in her toga.

Cid found his eyes straying to her bust and forced them to her face. Highly improper to ogle her like that. She was one of their saviours. But Deacon's warning rang in his mind.

"Well, I'm frankly surprised you were so willing to let strangers aboard," he noted guardedly. "You aren't worried?"

Even as he said it Cid was surprised at himself. Not because he was wrong, but for how stupid it was to even put the idea that he and the others might be a threat into her mind. Fortunately, the mooma seemed utterly unperturbed, merely cocking her head. "Now why would I be?" Looma said sweetly. "Are you going to attack me?"

"No," he said firmly. "Of course not."

"I know," she said warmly, giving him an admiring smile. "You're a protector. A guardian. You'd never harm someone as helpless as me."

Cid felt his flush grow. Stars, what was the matter with him? Getting so easily flustered in front of the gorgeous mooma. Which wasn't to say she was wrong. He wouldn't dream of harming such a beautiful woman as her. So soft and curvy. Helpless. Just the thought of some pirate getting his savage hands on her filled him with a sudden fury and surge of protectiveness.

"Quite correct," he informed her stonily.

Looma giggled and moved around the holo projector, coming up to him. Cid stiffened as she reached out, but she merely touched his arm through his uniform. "I can tell," she said softly. Cooing. A note of admiration and awe in her voice. "A body like this is all natural, isn't it? No gene mods. You train so hard, don't you? To be ready. To be able to protect others so well."

Cid cleared his throat, trying not to puff out his chest as her hand glided over his arm, feeling his biceps through his uniform. "Naturally. A shortcut only shows one isn't willing to appreciate and understand their body. Only by training can you know your limits."

"How admirable," Looma breathed. She stole a look at his face, almost shy, but the heat in her eyes made Cid's pulse leap and heart quicken. "Could I take a look?"

"A look?"

"You know. Closer..."

Cid sucked in a breath. But then, was there any reason to refuse? She was so admiring. So eager. So beautiful and kind. And she'd saved him. Why not?

Yes... Why not?

Cid's hands moved almost dreamlike, unbuttoning his uniform. It actually felt good to shed the sweat-stained jacket and shirt beneath, and the admiring sound that the mooma made as he revealed his toned, muscular frame made the decision much, much easier.

"Oh my," Looma said, her hands gliding over his arms. Passing over his chest as she moved in closer. "So hard. So... strong..."

Cid breathed in sharply at her nearness, her scent overwhelming his senses. She smelled wonderful. And not just because he'd been breathing recycled air for almost two days now. There was just something in her perfume. Something potent and tantalizing. Something that made his body warm and his manhood throb.

Naturally, Cid wasn't surprised at her nearness. But her softness held him. How gentle her curves were. How pronounced. She was his exact opposite. Soft. Sensual. Lovely. A treasure of womanly beauty. Before he knew it, his hands had risen and were touching her in turn, stroking along her arms.

Looma lifted her eyes to his and Cid flushed. "Sorry," he said, drawing back.

"No," Looma said, catching his hand. "I liked it."

Cid stared, almost stunned as her hand brought his to her breast. He sucked in a breath as she eased open the fabric of her toga, the gravid fullness of her green tit almost falling into his hand. He fought to suppress the moan as his fingers molded the soft heaviness. Fingers sinking into her teat.

"Ohhhh," Looma moaned softly. "Such... such strong hands. Such protective hands..."

"Th-thank you," Cid said, his head spinning. Feeling stuffed, his thoughts scrambled. But his body knew what to do. What it needed, and never hesitated as he continued to fondle her.

Squeeze her.

Stroke her.

Looma stepped forward, and Cid found himself sinking back into one of the pilot chairs, resting in the wide cradle of the soft seat. Tilted back at an angle as Looma gently followed him, straddling his lap, her thighs capturing his legs between them, her mound rocking forward, pressing against his manhood.

"Such a strong man," Looma murmured as her hands moved off his body. "Such a powerful man. So brave and protective. I feel so safe with you, Cid," she said as she undid the clasp of her toga and shrugged it off.

"Th-thank you," Cid said, his tongue fumbling, his eyes widening as he beheld the full heft of her breasts. Plump. Heavy. Near the size of his head.

"It can be so dangerous in the stars," Looma continued as she leaned over him, her breasts pressing forward, almost enveloping his face. He heard a clink and felt her hand on his lap, stroking his bulge through his pants. "So many cruel men would love to take me. My sisters. Do such things with us. Such cruel things."

A red rage rose in Cid at that. A fury. The thought of pirates or worse getting their hands on the lovely Looma or her sisters filled him with an anger beyond any he'd known before. Even more than when theSidewinderhad been destroyed. The thought of the green woman his hands were even at that moment admiring being in danger... the idea of her being threatened...

"You'd never let that happen to me, would you?" Looma asked, her fingers continuing to rub him through his pants, the sleek, smooth fabric sending throbs of lust aching in his balls.

"No," Cid gasped. "N-never!"

"That's wonderful, Cid," Looma said, and oh, the happiness on her face made his heart soar into his throat and cock throb in his pants. "Then, do you really need to find a station to land on?"

"Station?"

"Yes," she said, and he felt his pants open, his cock spring into the warm air of the bridge. "Why leave? Your old ship is gone. But we need a man like you, Cid. I need you. A man to protect us. To love us. Love me. Be with us. Our strong, powerful protector. Our adoring lover and guardian. Doesn't that sound wonderful, Cid? Wouldn't it be so good?"

It... it would be good. Cid knew it would. Looking up at the gorgeous mooma, he knew with utter, absolute certainty it would be everything he wanted out of life.

But...

But... something... something about it was... was odd. Off. He... he was...

"I..." he gasped.

"Shhh," Looma breathed, her finger to his lips silencing him, her eyes so warm with love. Her ample green curves moving forward. The warm slickness of her pussy rubbing against his cock. "Just..." she murmured, red lips forming those wonderful syllables as she leaned down. "Say..." she breathed as the tip of his cock slid against her entrance. "...Yes..."

Her lips met his.

Her pussy swallowed his cock.

And Cid was in absolute heaven.

He groaned in bliss as Looma began to rock atop him. Her breasts pressing into his strong chest. Mashing like the most wonderful cushions. Her lips worked against his, her tongue pushing into his mouth as her pussy squeezed and massaged his cock.

As she bounced.

As she rode.

As she loved him.

Soft. Lovely. Wonderful. She was perfect. She needed him. Needed him so badly. He could feel it. Feel it with every throb of his cock. Every ripple of her pussy. Every gasp of the kiss.

She needed him.

He needed her.

He wanted her.

Loved her.

He was hers.

Happily.

Wonderfully.

"Yes," he gasped between kisses.

"What?" she panted.

"Y-yes!" Cid gasped, his mind flooded with pleasure. With love. With protective need to adore and serve this glorious green woman. "Stay. I'll stay! Guard you. Protect you. L-love you!"

Looma cooed, her arms moving around him, crushing his hard, strong body against her plush, pliant curves. "Yes! Cid. I love you too. Love my strong man. My loving man. Yes! Yes! Mine. All mine. Oh. Oh! Ohh baby, yessssss!"

Her cry of bliss heralded her orgasm. Shuddered through her and seemed to quake through him. As he felt her tighten and squeeze his cock, Cid let out a cry of pure bliss. Pure pleasure. Pure, wonderful, loving need for her as he came, cock throbbing, pulsing, pumping bursts of his cum into her in pleasured bursts.

For what felt like an eternity he floated in that orgasmic high. Lost in the pleasure of that wonderful moment. Sinking into the wonderful glow of post-orgasmic satisfaction.

Looma loomed above him, her eyes glittering with happiness. "All mine," she hummed, leaning down again, kissing him anew.

And with joy Cid kissed her back. For she was right. He was all hers. Happily. Forever. Her protector. Her guardian.

Her lover and so much more...

Melia

Melia

Melia lay down on the examination table as Amara fiddled among the controls. It was strange. Melia wasn't ashamed of her body by any means. She'd always relished the compliments from men and women, and even the shocked looks from more prudish types. But getting naked in the presence of the gorgeous mooma felt different. More revealing and baring. Like she'd stripped out of more than her clothes in the green woman's presence. The fact that Amara was still in that form-fitting glove of a medical officer's uniform only made Melia feel more aware of her own nakedness.

"Have you had a medical check up recently?" Amara asked.

"Not for a while," Melia admitted, forcing herself not to cover her privates as the scanner hummed, gliding over her skin, prickling it with sensitivity.

"That's not good," Amara said, glancing back at Melia with a gentle smile. "We should probably do a full check up. Just to be safe."

"I um... s-sure," Melia said, flushing. Even as she did, she felt confused by it. Why was she being so meek? This wasn't at all like her. She was usually so confident and downright aggressive. Which had lost her a few boyfriends over the years. But there was just something about Amara. Some effortless confidence and the way she carried herself. It made Melia feel strangely nervous. Inadequate.

"You've modded yourself quite a bit according to the scans," the mooma noted, idly glancing at one of the screens.

Melia felt her flush deepen. "Well, you know," she laughed awkwardly. "Gotta fix the little bumps in a girl's looks."

"I understand," Amara said, her hand brushing back Melia's hair, fingers stroking a horn, sending a throb of sensation through Melia. "Sometimes, to be what you want to be, you have to make little... changes."