Earth - Commander Richard Smith - Accepts Payment
From Create Your Own Story
Commander Richard Smith knew with all his heart that this was wrong. The woman was drunk and didn’t know what she was doing. She was the wife of a fellow Officer. This just violated his principles on so many levels. But he also knew that she might turn into a belligerent drunk. There could be a scene. Things could really turn ugly. Base Security might get involved.
And in the morning? When she remembers that she had thrown herself at him and been spurned. Then what? As her drunken fingers struggled with his belt and fly, he reasoned that if he just goes ahead and lets her blow him, she will be so guilt-ridden when she does sober up, she will never mention this to anyone. She might even try to convince herself that it never even happened.
So, choosing what he felt was the lesser of two evils, he leaned back in the hover-craft seat, draped his arms along the back, and settled back for his blow-job. Helen was having trouble with the zipper but finally she got it down and the button of his fly open. “Alright,” she said drunkenly as she sat up straighter and fished inside the fly of his boxers. “Just like my husband. Skivvies- Drawers- Cotton- White. Everything has to be by the book!” As she pulled his cock out through the opening, she asked, “Would it really kill you two to wear colored underwear? Maybe jockeys.” She lowered her head, resting the side of her face against his abdomen as she stroked his slowly hardening cock. “Or a sling.” Then she was overcome by a fit of giggles. “Oh, no. Not a sling. They might Court Martial you!”
Satisfied that she had him good and hard, Helen turned her head and begin licking all around the crown like it was an ice cream cone. “Oh, yes, everything has to be just so,” she said between licks. “Absolutely perfect or it’s not good enough for Mister Big-Shot Spaceman. Perfection.” The woman started to sob. “It’s not my fault I got fat after I lost the baby. I r-really tr-tried to get the weight off after my miscarriage.” She kissed the head of his cock then took it into her mouth; sucking hard on the tip as she stroked the shaft. After a few moments, she lifted her head but kept on stroking. “He doesn’t even come near me now. I’m no longer that slender, perky, *perfect* little cheerleader he married right after college.” She wiped her eyes with the heel of the palm of her free hand, smearing her mascara something awful. “But I’m still good enough to give him a blow-job,” she said, looking up Smith with a brave smile; the tears in her eyes making them sparkle. “Yes sir, yes sir, three bags. Ole Helen-the-mouth. Suck your cock, Aye-aye, *Sir*!”
And she plunged her head down onto Smith’s dick, bobbing it up and down, her fist pressed against her lips, following along as she moved up and down. Up and down. Sucking off a man who was not her husband in the front seat of his hover-craft right outside her house in her own driveway. She was good, Smith had to admit that. Even as drunk as she was, she kept her lips clamped tightly around his shaft, no teeth, her grip tight but not too tight. He could not decide which was more pleasurable. The knobber she was giving him; or that her babbling had ceased.
For the next several minutes no words were spoken. The only sounds were the wet gurgling noises Helen was making as she gobbled Richard’s cock. Soon his moans joined in and eventually he put his hand down to caress her shoulder. She moaned at his touch and renewed her efforts. Her head bobbed faster. She sucked harder. Squeezed tighter. And then it happened. Arching his back and half lifting his bottom from the hover-craft’s seat, Smith started ejaculating inside Helen’s mouth. She didn’t pull off. But she didn’t swallow, either. As her mouth filled with cum, it began to leak out and ooze over her hand and his cock and balls. Richard’s whole body remained rigid until he had thoroughly emptied his nuts into her mouth.
Feeling his body going lax, Helen rolled her eyes up at him and slowed her stroking, gradually stopping and lifting her head. Commander Smith looked at her in appreciation. It was a good blow-job, even if it a bit messy. But he didn’t know if he should speak and thank her or what. But she solved the problem for him. Tugging the handle of the door on her side, she clutched her stole tightly around her and said, “I think I’m going to throw up.”
She dashed from the vehicle and Smith started fastening his pants to follow her and help, but evidently she had not locked the door prior to the party and she was already inside the house by the time he got out of the hover-craft. Standing on her front lawn, he saw first the living room lights come on, then those in the stairs, and finally a light lit up a window on the second floor.
“Rest well, Helen,” the Spacer muttered as he headed back to his hover-craft.
