Chapter 1

It was almost 38 degrees Celsius on the bridge and Mom was driving me nuts as she fiddled with the navigation instruments for our final approach to the landing port on the planet Sarraston. She was dressed in nothing more than a pair of shorts and sandals. You would think I would be used to it by now, but it seemed to bother me more and more as I grew older. For over four years, I have been getting a hard-on each time I see her tits as her body glistens with sweat whenever life support gets cranky.

My twin sister Oxy was also busy with life support, the particle engine’s performance, calculating fuel consumption and relaying the information to our mom’s main screen. She couldn’t help me out as she liked to, and I could not leave my station and go jerk off because I needed to watch the instruments monitoring communications.

My mom owns a tramp trader, and we make a living, if you could call it that, since most of the profits go into the maintenance of this antique tub. We carry cargo for a few clients, and Mom does what trading she can with the locals on the side, mostly in booze and luxury items.

What I mean by luxury items is what is plentiful, and we can buy cheap on one planet may be scarce and profitable on another. Whether good or bad, Booze will always catch a potential customer’s eye when we add the word ‘imported’ to the brand name. You can make a substantial profit if you can smuggle your goods unnoticed by the port’s customs authorities or with a bribe. If not, you pay the import tax and make only a small profit after buying food, fuel and goods to trade at your next stop.

Although Mom is 124 years old, she has the pre-regen body of a 26-year-old due to the regen pills we all take. My sister and I are 40 and trapped in teenage bodies. My sister is developing more slowly than me. Mom calls her a late bloomer. Mom likes Oxy looking that way because she can charge four times what she gets for a fuck and a blow job when we’re strapped for cash. Mom even pimped me out a few times. Once to an Alphasian matriarch that was so damn hairy it was like fucking a musty rug.

Mom is 1.55 meters tall with blond hair and weighs about 54 kilograms with C-cup tits. She likes to stay mostly natural, although she did have the hair on her legs permanently removed. That tuft of blond hair under her arms and above her pussy attracts males like flitter fleas when she is in the mood for a little fun or broke and needs cash. Mom is unmarked except for our names and birthdays tattooed on her left shoulder. This gives her a distinct advantage over the local talent who seem to over-decorate themselves with tattoo art. Some of the whole-body artwork is absolutely stunning, but to me, it detracts from and hides the natural beauty of the species.

I resent the fact that I still have the body and uncontrollable hormones of a teenager. I did not even start puberty until I was twenty-two years old. But if you want the regen pills to work, you need to start taking them before your fifth birthday. There is a lot of downtime between planet-fall for spacers. A lifespan of 270 – 300 years makes it a little more bearable.

I heard the familiar thump of the landing gear as we hit the steel plates of the landing field. As soon as Mom shut down the engines, I unbuckled my seat belt and ripped open the Velcro on my pants. I let my cock out and walked over to my sister.

“Can you help me out, Sis? Mom is driving me crazy again, and she will be busy with the port authorities.”

“Sure thing, bro. Come to my cabin. I have the cooling system working back there.”

We headed aft to Oxy’s cabin as I yelled over my shoulder to Mom, “Put something on before Customs comes aboard.”

Mom replied, “But you like to look at my tits, my darling.”

“Yeah, but if they ain’t paying to seeum, you better not be showinum.”

I heard a bit of laughter as I ducked through the bulkhead door and headed down the steel grey passage to our sleeping quarters.

Oxy tapped the door release, and we stepped into her cabin. She stood by the sleeping platform and asked, “What’s it going to be, Tag? A hand job or blow job? I don’t feel like fucking right now.”

“A hand job will be fine if I can look at your pussy at the same time.”

Oxy stripped off her shorts and bared her hairless pussy. Oxy was blond like our mother and was a bit of a Tom Boy, and she looked it. She is thin with boyish hips, and she didn’t have much for tits yet, so I didn’t bother to ask her to remove her t-shirt.

I sat on the sleeping platform with my back against the bulkhead and spread my legs. Oxy got up on the platform and sat between my legs Indian style so I would have a good view of her pussy. She took my cock in her hand and stroked it like she had done so many times before.

“Oh, that’s great, Sis. I’m sorry about the short notice, but you know how I get when Mom gets all sweaty and shows me her tits.”

“I know. She does have great tits. What are you going to do when I get bigger tits?”

“I’ll be walking around with a hard-on 24/7.”

“Hmmm, that could be fun.” she teased.

I always liked looking at my sister’s pussy. It was just two soft mounds with a slit down the middle, a dimple at the top, and no lips to speak of. Sis was 165 cm tall and usually wore her blond hair cropped short and boyish in style. Her 40-year-old slim figure with few feminine curves had just matured enough to enjoy intercourse a little over three years ago. Before that, Mom or I would lick her pussy to satisfy her needs.

Sis was making my cock respond to her touch. She always knew how to stroke me and fondle my balls to get me off. This time was no different. I laid my head back with lidded eyes, watching her stroke me as I admired her pussy. Her small hand on my cock felt soft but firm. I started to move my hips slightly, and Sis knew that was a sign that I was getting close. She sped up her efforts and moved the hand, playing with my balls, and wrapped it around my cock above her other hand so she could jerk me off with both hands.

“I’m cuming, Sis.”

She leaned over to take the head of my cock between her lips and waited for me to shoot my load into her sweet mouth.

My hips jerked, and her head bobbed as my cock pulsed, and my balls released the load of cum that had been building up all morning from Mom’s sweaty tits teasing me for four hours on our landing approach.

Sis sat up and swallowed my cum and smiled that cute smile that made me glad she was my sister and loved her as much as I loved Mom.

“Thanks, Sis. Let me know if you need me to return the favor.”

Oxy got up and took off her t-shirt, “Not now. Maybe later tonight, but what I do need right now is a shower before the water, and waste purifier breaks down again.” She pulled off her t-shirt and walked naked to the cleansing stall.

I got up, pulled up my pants and headed to my cabin and my waste and cleansing stall or the W/C as we call it. If Sis said a piece of gear was on its last legs, I better get some use out of it before it craps out.

We were a well-balanced crew, with Mom as the pilot and navigator and doing most of the bartering. Sis is the ship’s engineer and can fix just about anything. I take care of the ordinance, programming of the ship’s computers, ships armament and security when on the planet. Yup, space was still a frontier and pirates, and bad dudes were not uncommon.

Trips between planets take between seven to twelve weeks unless you have the cash to pay the toll to travel through a government-controlled wormhole. When we make planet-fall, we seldom stay longer than two or three days. So yes, we do what most space-faring families do. We take care of each other’s sexual needs. Men and women take a birth control pill at puberty that lasts a lifetime unless they take the antidote that disrupts the pills’ effectiveness for 72 hours. STDs were eradicated a millennium ago. So what’s the big deal? It’s only sex. It’s the hundred and first century, for God’s sake. The only place family diddling is a problem is on planets ruled by religious cults. When we have to go there to deliver goods, Mom swears up and down to their Port Customs Priests that all we do is masturbate in the privacy of our own cabins. Then just to annoy them a little, she asks for the nearest whore house so we can relieve the stress of celibacy.

Inter-species sex is not uncommon, but there haven’t been any reports of inter-species conception or births to date. There have been some very clever cosmetic surgery that simulates what a half-breed might look like. Most men and women have cosmetic surgery done work in the prostitution trade because they think it makes them look exotic. In some cases, I will have to agree that it does add another layer of desirable sexuality.

Most of the intelligent species that evolved on planets capable of supporting oxygen-breathing mammals are humanoid-looking. They come in every color of the rainbow and may have an extra pair of arms and hands or breasts.

Their size, the shape of ears and body hair are other noticeable differences. ‘People’ are anywhere from 61 cm to 275 cm tall, with every size and shape in between. Some are as furry as a cat, and some as bald as a cue ball. We all have a thumb or two, and the number of fingers varies.

For some reason, tails are common on species originally from heavily forested planets with dangerous ground predators. Something they developed for balance and to give them an extra grip when swinging through the trees millions of years ago. I would not suggest asking them about it. They get really sensitive about it now that the predators are all in zoos, and most of their forests have been cleared to build cities and farms. I saw a human thug beat to death in a bar fight when he called one of them a monkey. For some reason, they resent that. I will have to look that word up someday.