Eternal Penance? Pt. 03

I knew I was almost out of time. I think every muscle in my body locked up tight as I felt an orgasm course through me like electricity. My cock felt like it was exploding as what seemed like gallons of jizz erupted in seconds into her center.

Somehow in the midst of my euphoria I thought, crap I didn't make her cum.

"Oh, gawd...fuck, Keisha, please!"

But I need not have worried. The sensations of my cum filling her insides, my cock pulsing repeatedly within her, my mouth on her breasts and my cries had sent her over the edge. She shook with her most powerful orgasms yet. She still did not cry out, but she did press my face more forcefully into her bountiful cleavage, damn near smothering me.

"That's it baby...give momma all your love...fill momma Keisha up..."

That forced another round of spasms from me, and more cum.

I think I almost blacked out. When I was back among the cognizant, I realized she was still recovering from the force of her own orgasms.

When she was back from "la petite morte'" she smoothly slid up my body and straddled my head. Pressing her sloppy, well-fucked sex over my mouth, she said breathily, "Quickly now...clean me up, Ensign."

Copious amounts of our combined fluids flowed back into me, and I saw her hand pressing against her tummy to help it along. When I seem to have consumed it all, I dutifully bathed her labia and her hairy muff with my mouth and tongue til she was squeaky clean.

I began to dart my tongue across her clit. She initially began to ride my face towards another good cum. But then she checked her watch and abruptly stood. She offered her hand and helped me up.

"That will be all, Ensign."

I started to protest. My backside was shredded and slightly bleeding, my hair was matted and my face looked like a glazed donut. She arched an eyebrow. I resigned myself to the walk of shame back to my quarters again. At least I wouldn't be sporting a huge erection this time.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

As I got to the door, she was dressing. "Oh, and Ensign. Stop by sick bay on your way home and have that ass treated. You look like a wildcat got hold of you."

"Yes, ma'am."

She paused for a minute. "Also, be on the bridge early in the morning. You owe me some more head since you did not finish me after my cleaning."

"Yes, ma'am. I look forward to it."

Sick bay applied some amazing ointment to my backside which took a lot of the sting out. No bandages, though, as that would be almost like letting me wear clothes. They did not clean me up, either.

When I dragged my ass into our quarters, Amora and Sabrina were bent over the computer monitor.

Amora looked up, "Holy shit. She wasn't exaggerating, Wildcat is right. And you look like a glazed donut, by the way."

That meant Lt. Washington's report on me had already been submitted and distributed.

Sabrina stood, taking my hand in hers, "She completed her rating too, Robby. You got an A+ rating. There aren't many of those on the ship. Hell, there aren't many of those in the fleet!"

I blushed. I wasn't THAT good. I thought this had to be one more adaptation of the Lieutenant's devious mind. I was going to be even more "popular."

And I was. It was illustrated one night after Frank had managed his promotion to Chief. I was studying one night and he offered to take a "call for service" I had gotten, to return the favor. The callers were quite discontent to be offered a B rating in place of an A+ and quickly sent him back.

We had many adventures. Exploring new planets and systems, meeting new races of beings. I grew accustomed to the odd looks from a new acquaintance speaking to the Captain via view screen while I stood nude nearby.

As if all of this was not overwhelming enough, about six months into our deployment I received a subspace message from Klarr. Apparently the gestation period for Eluvians was considerably shorter than for Terrans. Included in her amorous message was a photo of her holding the most precious little blue girl, who looked unmistakably like me.

Also included with her photos were several of her nude, in sexy poses. In a couple of them her nipples were erect and blue flesh was iridescent. I knew from experience this meant she was very aroused, if not on the verge of orgasm. As if to confirm my thoughts, the last photo was obviously taken from a POV directly above her, the photographer engaged in intercourse with the mother of my only child. She was smiling up at him. Well, I assume it was a him.

This last photo had a note, "This could be you, lover. I know you are being loved on daily...I am not doing with out, either. But none compare to you, baby. And me and little Roberta love our daddy!"

Considering the times we lived in, and the fact she was correct...I was far from monogamous, how could I be jealous?

But I was. My manhood was positively vibrating wishing I was the one with her.

It had been several months since I had received that message. I was laying in my bunk mooning over Klarr's photos, my cock throbbing. I was not masturbating. That still was illegal for males. Besides, I knew someone would take care of it for me before too long. And it was oddly reassuring to have the desire focused on Klarr. My reverie was interrupted by an intercom message telling me to report to the bridge forthwith.

As I walked onto to the bridge, still erect, I expected someone to need help with a technical issue, or a sexual craving.

The Captain regarded me, a bemused expression on her face, "You certainly get around. All the way out here, and someone is asking for you by name."

She nodded toward the view screen.

And there, smiling back at me, was Cassandra.

I recalled the involvement she and her race had in correcting my behavior by subjecting me over a century of sexual servitude. I remembered all that time as an ethereal being. I remembered years of intense arousal coupled with orgasm denial. How the experience had made me the man I am now.

My heart nearly stopped.

I recalled my sexual encounter with Cassandra herself. How she had been able to stimulate every erogenous zone, inside and out, and psychologically simultaneously.

My manhood bounced and without any physical contact, it pulsed and shot a stream of semen across the deck. I groaned, "Unnnghh...ohhhh."

Cassandra grinned, "I missed you too, Robert."

The bridge crew all exchanged looks. I had gained a reputation for my stamina. For an uncanny ability to control my orgasm until my lover was satisfied. For hours if need be.

Who was this alien creature who had rendered me a touch-less premature ejaculator shooting jets of cum across the deck like a pre-pubescent boy? And why??

I was scared and thrilled all at once.

My life had just gotten a lot more complicated. Who knew that was even possible?