Chapter 37

Third Mission, outbound aboard the FUP Deep Space Exploration vessel Glenndeavor, 2401 CE

"Permission to enter your abode," a soft female-sounding voice filled my compartment.

I shook my head again. I'd programmed that voice into the data communications system of my quarters, right after I'd moved in. Part of me was surprised that Calvin and Israel had taken so long to get back from the motor pool.

"Enter," I enunciated loud enough for my data comm system to voice activate and open the hatch. I was still somewhat distracted as I looked over all the different pieces of hack gear I had to pick from and was now spread out over the top of the wide bunk. I heard the faint sound of the passageway ambience as the hatch opened accompanied by another faint, female-sounding, "Oh!" from out in the corridor.

As I turned around, G4 Bimini bustled into C001, and part of me realized she'd thumbed the touch screen outside of C003. I notice her face was flushed and her red hair was a little mussed up, her ponytail looked slightly askew, and it was resting down over her right shoulder and breast, not down her back.

"Do you ... have any idea," she demanded of me while catching her breath as the hatch closed behind her, "what your wife ... actually had the nerve ... to ask me?"

From the sound of her low-pitched, but agitated tone of voice, her breathless state, and her eyelids and high cheeks squinting together as she hugged her arms under her medium-sized breasts, which were well displayed in her fitted duty blues, I knew that our new neighbor being here in our suite wasn't going to be such a good thing. I looked back down at the spread out geek gear on the bunk to formulate my response.

"Which wife would that be?" I asked her in a slightly forced, distracted way, as I pretended to contemplate what I might need in my alien hack kit.

I heard Bimini stomp into the middle of the carpeted deck, and in the left field of my peripheral vision I saw her stop between my footlocker and the row of tall lockers against the outside bulkhead. With the way this conversation started, appearing to be unimpressed by her would be the best way to deal with G4 Bimini, I'd concluded. She seemed to be a person who expected others to listen to her with some degree of deference for some reason.

Right now it was clear that she was trying to figure out why I didn't fall into that group. Her breasts pushed out the material of her fitted coveralls as she inhaled deeply.

"That curly-haired, little terror," she finally informed me now that she'd seemed to recover her wind, the volume of her voice rising slightly with each word, "Blaugelt—the Ship's legend."

"Oh ... her," I said, picking up one of my two unique, multi-tester gizmos. I turned the hand-held unit on, and as the small touch screen came to life, I nodded my head.

"Oh, her?" Bimini asked me, sounding incredulous. "Yes, HER!"

"Well!" I said in a pleased-sounding voice as I turned the gizmo off and put the tester into one of the interior pockets of my alien kit bag. "As to what she must have asked you ... well, that would have to be that she wants you to ... how should I say this—"

"—Submit? ... Submit to any and all of your carnal advances this evening," Bimini blurted out. And in my peripheral vision, I could tell her face continued to flush as she squeezed her arms tighter together.

"Please, ah, G4 Bimini," I said, holding up my right hand as if to contain her agitation before I looked up from what I was doing and met her almost bulging hazel-colored eyes. "I was looking for a polite way of phrasing that; but yes."

"So, you are standing there, telling me you knew about this?" she asked me, a little taken aback at my admission. "What makes your wife think she can barge into my quarters and, and do those things to me ... and then tell me what she expects me to let you inflict on my dignity?"

"Well, my wives, and our lover, Beatrice," I told her as I picked up a set of multi-tip screwdrivers for working on tiny electronic elements and focused through the clear container that organized the six small tools and interchangeable bits, "have developed the tendency, and just recently I must say, to talk about me as if I wasn't present while I'm right there in the room listening to them discussing their plans concerning me and our household." I put the container in another inside pocket of my alien hack pack, and then looked at Bimini.

"Plans," Bimini asked me sounding unbelieving, relaxing her arms just a bit and reducing the upward pressure on her coveralls-restrained breasts, "to procure other women for you ... for you to ravage and maul and have your way with?"

"In this case," I said to her while looking back down at my equipment spread out on the neatly made bunk, "that has been one of their recent topics, yes."

"And that they intend for me to submit to any and all of your demands," she asked, her incredulity growing, "while that, that, simpering girl, a mere Commissary Tech, a lunch lady, is present—throwing herself at you as well?"

"Now that idea—" I told her as I picked up a multi-logic probe I favored. In spite of the conversation I was having, my inner geek recognized that if I used my Heavy for some of its high-tech, black-ops capabilities I could easily reduce the need for possibly half of my gizmos—but I couldn't bet on not having other crew or Marines around when I needed to use those black-ops capabilities of my Heavy, so that was out.

"—now that idea of adding Claire, that was," I confessed as I looked back at G4 Bimini, "something that Anika and Bea sprung on the household at the lunch table right before you showed up."

"Mister Sitwell," the slim woman addressed me, flicking her red ponytail back off her right shoulder with a toss of her head, her hazel eyes open wide and almost glaring at me. "While your youngest wife informed me that on her home world not only is polygamy perfectly acceptable and expected in the aristocratic circles that her family, I gather, seems to move in—she also told me that it is a sign of higher social status for the husband to have mistresses vetted by his wives! And that also, your first wife, Juliet—if I may use her first name to differentiate her from The Terror—"

"—you may use Juliet's first name," I interrupted Bimini, capturing her gaze and finding myself pushing with the senses I used to connect with women I could read, intending to reinforce my words. "And please, call me Jameson. However, don't call my youngest wife The Terror to her face—for your own continued well-being. Her name is Anika.

"Well," I added with another push, "actually that is a nickname. Might I enquire what your first name is, neighbor?"

"Melvina," the redhead reported to me in an almost textbook military tone of voice that implied Sir with her answer. She also managing to sound surprised the information was coming out of her mouth at all, let alone in such a manner.

"Bimini, G4, C Division—Communications—Ship's Communications Technical Specialist, assigned to the Glenndeavor ... on, on, ahh, mmm, special duty for this mission," she all but reported, her arms dropped to the sides of her snappy coveralls and she almost came to attention.

The look on her surprised face was priceless—her eyes and long, red lashes wide, and while she looked in the direction of my face, I had the feeling she'd gone into soft-focus mode as she would in reporting to an officer while standing at attention. Also, her mouth was just slightly opened above her receding, but cute chin.

"You were saying, Melvina," I prompted her with a nod of my head, "that Anika told you that Juliet also said... what?"

"Ahh ... Anika told me that," Melvina managed to say, her indignation seemingly submerged below the military posture she now exhibited, "that Juliet also comes from a society where polygamy is the accepted norm—and that the women of your household thought it their duty to promote such domestic arrangements in their actions. I assure you, Mister Sitwell—ehrr, Jameson—I was not raised that way. On my home world a marriage is one man and one woman, according to ... well, God's law and the laws established by the civil authorities since the first colony ship landed—which coincide perfectly."

"When some people talk God," I told her, looking back down at my gear on the bunk for a moment before turning my head back to face her, "they would argue that there is no such thing as a coincidence."

Melvina Bimini scrunched her eyebrows together and gave me a confounded look, so I decided to possibly confound her some more and set my inner geek free.

"I would say that it was good for you then—" I explained to my neighbor. And hearing the slightly pedantic tone in my voice that was my inner geek, I looked back down at my gear before I continued, "—that civil, and I would assume, commercial laws, have applied so consistently on your world since its founding. Consistent societal interactions and expectations of the understood norm over successive generations, both in the interpersonal and commercial sphere, promote stability in family units as it reduces associated opportunity costs for the individual and the group because there is no need to establish rules and consequences for social and commercial dealings with each new interaction or transaction.

"However," I told her as I picked up my other special gizmo and put it into the black-nylon hip pack, "it often loads groups and individuals with other huge costs or limitations, because that type of societal structure also can allow for a very bloated social class to develop and thrive that consists of people who provide political and legal representation to the other classes while enriching themselves, their descendants, and especially special interest groups at the expense of the wellbeing of everyone else."

"Permission to enter your abode," the soft female-sounding voice filled my compartment again.

I shook my head again. Who can it be now?

"Enter," I enunciated loudly and looked over as the hatch opened, accompanied by another faint, female-sounding, "Oh!" from out in the passageway.

In a moment G2 Claire Murphrees appeared outside the open hatch and, seeing me, walked inside as the hatch closed behind her. She and G4 Bimini saw each other and I saw a smirk appear on Claire's cute face.

Melvina Bimini scrunched her eyebrows together and she raised her arms and hugged them together under her medium-sized breasts again. This time she seemed to have added extra pressure in her squeeze because her breasts appeared to be pushed up higher in her fitted duty blues than they were when she first came into the compartment.

"Ahhh, Claire!" I welcomed her, hearing the pleasure in my voice. "You remember G4 Bimini from lunch. Her first name is Melvina, not that I'm suggesting the three of us are going to be name-friends—well, you and I already are, aren't we?"

With a determined look on her round face under her black hair, my pleasingly-plump new friend immediately unbuckled her web belt, unzipped her duty blues, and then shrugged her coveralls off her shoulders, exposing a transparent pink bra that was very nicely filled, while her perkiness made me think the bra was redundant. I could see her hard nipples pushing against the filmy cup material—what there was of it.

"What are you DOING?" Melvina Bimini demanded of Claire, sounding like my first grade teacher when I explained why she should tell my classmates the problems they'd run into trying to multiply by zero while she stood at the projector attempting to teach them how to discover what 2 plus 5 equaled.

"I've made my decision," Claire announced with a goofy grin as she pushed her coveralls down and over her hips, exposing her matching, skimpy, pink panties pulled tightly up to just below her surprisingly well defined hipbones.

I noticed she had a nice innie belly button as Claire's coveralls dropped to the ankles of her ship's boots and she moved her feet apart. It was obvious that she carefully trimmed her black pubic hair quite short. Her plump, ripe mound formed such a pronounced camel-toe in the pink film that the crotch material of her panties actually hid nothing.

"I need it hard, Jameson," in a soft voice, Claire repeated Bea's words from lunch, her eyes drilling into mine while I heard my new neighbor gasp. "Bea's right. I need it so hard. It's been such a long time."

"Excuse ME!" Melvina spoke up, stepping between me and Claire Murphrees, while partially turning her back to the sexy form of the young, determined Commissary Tech. My disgruntled neighbor focused on my face. "I am having a conversation with Jameson here. What makes you think you can just march in here and expose your body in this way and make such a crude statement—a demand—a pathetic plea for his attention? What makes you think that he even wants you to be here ... and acting in such an uncouth manner?"

"Are you wearing cotton panties, Melvina?" I asked her and stepped to my left so I could see all of both women.

"What?" the redhead with the receding chin asked as her eyes went wide and she pressed her tits together even higher.

"From what you've said about how your time went with Anika, you know my wives, and our lover, Beatrice," I explained to my snooty neighbor, "have expressed their wish for me to experience the carnal joys of a private bachelor party—that they expect to have the festivities recorded so they can watch later—and both of you have been invited to attend me."

Melvina Bimini blinked her eyes wide and her mouth fell open. Claire put her hands on her bare hips, elbows out, and the minx started to slowly twist her hips back and forth causing her shoulders and torso to move and display her fine breasts to great effect.

"As to your questions of her—" I said to Bimini and gestured to Claire, "—as I mentioned, she is our new name-friend, so she is more than welcome here in our quarters—to just visit, to even come in to show me her sexy bra and panties, or to stay the evening and enjoy the proceedings with me, and to whatever extent she wishes, or that she allows me to convince her to experience."

A big smile came to Claire's round face, and as she looked into my eyes I felt my cock getting harder and harder as it pushed against the front of my boxers and the crotch of my coveralls.

"That she is direct—" I told Melvina, looking away from Claire and focusing on the redhead's blushing, shocked features. G4 Bimini appeared mesmerized as she watched my face, the chest of her coveralls moving in and out, ragged and quick. My inner geek wondered if she might hyperventilate.

"—and that she forthright in exposing herself to me while expressing her need in such a way is," I admitted to my neighbor that I realized I found it strangely attractive, "I find—truth told—touching, appealing, and arousing as well."

I switched my focus to both women, feeling my breathing getting a bit deeper.

With her eyes on me, Claire brought her right hand up from her hip and cupped her right breast through the filmy pink material. I had to look back and concentrate on Bimini's face and not focus on what the pleasingly-plump, sexy Commissary Tech was doing.

Showing off, my PAW let me know with a chuckle as he watched Claire pinching her nipple and tugging on it through the material of her bra cup.

"If Bea feels her friend is worthy," I said, looking into Melvina's eyes, "then I accept that, as I accepted Claire's offer to become name-friends, and only Claire can prove us wrong. And I don't think that will happen, will it Claire?"

"Never, Jameson," she told me, her young voice now assured, causing me to look from my neighbor back to Claire, whose right hand was now slowly traveling down over her bare, soft-looking stomach. "Should I take off my boots and coveralls?"

What's happened to the shy Claire?

"Not just yet," I told her, intrigued and excited by the change in the young woman and what was happening. "I enjoy your body dressed like that, as you can mostly see by the front of my coveralls. But tell me, when was the last time you were with a man?"

"It's been over eighteen months," admitted Claire as the fingertips of her right hand started to caress the delicate, pink material of her skimpy panties. "I'm, ah, really horny—been so since before the cruise started. I'm sorry if I seem so needy. Being a new face and all—"

"—I can't believe you are going to just give yourself to him," G4 Melvina Bimini spit out, dropping her hands to the slim hips of her tailored coveralls, "without any worry about how he'll treat you once you give him what he wants! I mean, he's already in a recognized polygamous relationship—he has a first wife for goodness sake! And your friend Beatrice is their mistress! Afterward, what are you going to be—to him—to THEM?"

She sucked in a big lungful of air, and my inner geek knew our neighbor was just getting started on this rant. My paranoid ass-wipe was wondering who the man was that Melvina had been with before, and what happened there.

"His youngest wife had the audacity," the red-faced redhead announced in a strident voice, "to completely unzip my uniform, and then she FELT ME UP ... Yes, and she continued to do so while telling me every single thing she expected me to do for him—in detail!

"I simply cannot believe I allowed that to happen!" Melvina exclaimed to Claire, who continued to touch her groin. "My God! Of those things she told me to do, I've only done one of them, and then only after I'd known the man for nearly a year!"

The lady, my paranoid ass-wipe spoke up from down in my lizard brain, doth protest too much, methinks.

"I'm sure at least one of the other two will hurt," my redheaded neighbor told Claire, and, her eyes squinting, Melvina glared at the partially dressed young woman, "and both are too utterly humiliating to even contemplate. So tell me, girl, if you intend to go through with this outrageous plan his women have come up with, how will you be able to look at yourself in a mirror tomorrow?"

Everything the two women were talking about, and seeing Claire's fingers move, was exciting me. I had to swallow, my mouth was dry. From where I stood, I could hear Melvina breathing. It sounded as if she'd run down the passageway for sixty meters or more in a fright.

"Well, Bea says Jameson is a nice man—naughty, but nice—that he is firm and can be very dominating when he needs to be," Claire began countering the words of my upset neighbor as the sexy, half-undressed Commissary Tech slowly pushed her fingertips under the elastic of her pink, transparent panties. But Claire was focusing her gaze on me, not Melvina.

"She says he's understanding and compassionate," the pleasingly-plump young Claire informed the distraught redhead, her words taking on the confidence of her actions as she continued to watch my eyes and face. "She told me his lips and tongue really know their way around a pussy, nipples, and even behind a girl's knees, too; and he has magic fingers. So tomorrow, I plan on memorizing the smile on my face when I look in the mirror."

The deep blush on my redheaded neighbor's features seemed to emphasize Melvina's high cheekbones somehow.

"And if I'm lucky," Claire added, the backs of her right fingers covered to the second knuckle by her transparent panties, her short black hairs just under her fingertips as she gave me a naughty grin, "I'll have my arms out, braced on the counter in the head, and I'll be able to watch Jameson's face in the same mirror as he fucks me really good from behind and gives me a big cream-pie before I have to leave for duty."

I realized I was starting to breathe heavier, my cock throbbing against the confines of my clothes.

"After that, we'll see what happens," Claire announced and looked from me to the shocked Comm Specialist. "Maybe if I go to work with a just-fucked glow and his cum dripping into my panty crotch, one of the guys who talks to me when they come down my food line will ask me out. I'd like a guy of my own, but I'll tell you this, I'm not going to turn down such a hunky-looking fuck chum whose wives and mistress approved me getting thoroughly sexed by their man tonight. You hear what I'm saying?"

Melvina Bimini turned slightly and was staring at Claire, her receding chin lowered as far as her jaw would allow. I was momentarily captivated by the sight of her strikingly different profile with her mouth opened like that.

"So, if helping Jameson enjoy his bachelor party is such a big, disgusting, moral dilemma for you—" Claire said with an actual little bit of a smirk in her voice, making me grin because she was standing up to G4 Bimini and was certainly shy no more—for now anyway.

"—then why don't you just leave?" she asked. "More attention for me, you know? That is, if you do take your uppity ass out of here.

"Unless," Claire speculated and she slowly pulled her fingers out of her pink panties, "you might get a forbidden thrill watching me go down on my knees for Jameson and sucking his cock here in a just a bit. You can even unzip those fancy duty blues and diddle your clit. Study him as he fucks my face—makes me gag a little. Bea says it's not as bad with practice—and truth told—I might even find it gets me even more excited."

Melvina Bimini looked from Claire's confession to me, her eyes wide. She brought her right hand up to her mouth. I dropped my left hand down to my crotch and pulled at my coveralls, not quite relieving the pressure against the head of my hard cock that was caught in the flap of my boxers.

"Since it sounds like you've always been just a missionary kind of a girl, you might even allow yourself to imagine you're the one trying to get his cock into your throat as you watch and diddle," Claire told Melvina, causing the redhead to look back at the pleasingly-plump, exposed young woman whose hands were at her sides again.

My paranoid ass-wipe wondered of the sexual positions that Claire had seen in pictures and vids since she left her home world, just how many had she found applied to her own delectable body in her self-confessed, limited experiences?

"With that chin of yours," she declared to Melvina Bimini, "I bet Jameson would bottom out pretty quickly if you let him fuck your mouth."

My redheaded neighbor looked appalled at the young woman's wager.

"Golly, I'd really like to see your throat expand each time he pushes into your gullet, Red."

I could feel the tip of my straining cock starting to weep lubricant as Melvina took a staggered step back toward the footlocker on her long legs.

"Bea says," Claire added, a quirky grin on her round face as she watched my neighbor take another step backward, "once he's in her throat and comes, she just swallows and it makes her come along with him, knowing he won't let her get hurt, and that she's giving him as much pleasure as she's getting by surrendering to him. Then, Bea tells me, she frenches the hell out of whichever wife is closest."

When Bimini's right boot heel bumped into the footlocker, her left hand went down, blindly feeling for the surface as her knees seemed to waver and she almost collapsed the rest of the way down, her pert bottom making a thump as her weight landed.

"You didn't answer Jameson," Claire told Melvina, taking a shuffling step forward, both her ankles caught in the folds of her coveralls. "Are you wearing cotton panties, Red? Are they all creamy?"

She took another exaggerated step and looking down at Bimini said, "You know, I got this advice from the head cook—now I'm understanding what she was telling me—and now I'm going to pass it on to you ... No need to thank me or anything.

"Truth told, if you'd just get over yourself and let yourself go," the young Commissary Tech explained, "let yourself experience everything and embrace what you feel with this guy, or any guy—you know, the pleasure, the pain, the joy, the naughty thrills—I bet you'll find anything the two of you do that's scary, or in your case ... humiliating ... actually feels sexy as the First Hell in the long run. And you'll come back for more, no matter how hard you try to repress it. I'm not going to repress ever again, if I can help it."

With another pants-down step, Claire was much closer to Melvina, who was using both hands on the top of the footlocker to keep from swaying or maybe even falling over.

"Cook told me that afterward, you've just got to forgive yourself," Claire Murphrees said to the redhead, sounding completely confident as she swung her other boot forward, "for being whatever kind of woman you discover you are with him. Don't judge that woman by the type of person you were brought up to be. Truth told—I get the feeling you were brought up to be a manipulative, self-centered, privileged, rotten little bitch."

With another step of her right, very shapely leg followed then by her left equally sexy leg, the once shy Commissary Tech's spread knees were almost in G4 Bimini's angular face. Claire looked down at the almost quaking woman and put her hands back on her nicely bare hips.

"So get over yourself," the black-haired young woman advised my neighbor, "or else leave right now and keep that nose of yours out of your neighbors' business. And don't you go gossip to anybody about everything I'm planning on letting Jameson here do to me tonight ... Hell, I hope I can't walk tomorrow and have to report to Sick Bay; and I've got a better chance of that happening if you're not skulking around—"

The sexy, aroused young woman put her thumbs into the elastic at the top of her skimpy pink panties that were slung below her hipbones and started slowly pushing the gossamer material down.

"—unless," Claire asked, her voice sounding speculative, as she gave the redhead a wicked grin that I'm certain was lost on my neighbor, because it seemed to me that Melvina was staring at the young lunch lady's exposed crotch as the pink hairnet came to rest around the middle of Claire's healthy, bare thighs.

"Melvina? ... Have you ever eaten pussy?"

"Permission to enter your abode," the soft female-sounding voice filled the compartment for the third time.

Claire looked over her right shoulder, not seeming to be all that concerned about her present state of exposure as the hatch to C001 opened. Melvina's still shocked gaze didn't waiver from Claire's prominent, naked crotch as my neighbor continued to use both her hands to keep her steady where she sat on my footlocker.

I looked over and saw the back of PFC Israel Jerusalem's cammies, the rear crease of his garrison cap up high and to the side of his head at a rakish angle. All of that was framed by the open hatchway with the far, cream-colored passageway bulkhead as his backdrop.

"A-firmative, Fireball," I heard him say in a strong voice as his right hand reached up and back to grip the frame gasket near his shoulder without turning his head in our direction, "I'll see you two in just a few. You say Jaym knows how to get to this special place, so I'm frost 'til then. Now, don't you be startin' that story without me—hear that girl?"

He laughed heartily and with a wave of his left hand he let go of the gasket with his right. Taking two steps back into C001, as if he didn't want to take his eyes off of whatever he was looking at outside, he continued to laugh. With a shake of his head and another quick wave of his left hand, Iz turned around as the hatch closed behind him.

His eyes appeared to almost pop out of his dark face and he shut his mouth. His right hand groped out to find the side of the locker row. His left arm went up from his side until his hand bumped into the end of the fourth shelf above his shoulder, grasping hold. With his body seemingly suspended between his raised arms, my Marine friend looked like a drunk trying to keep on his feet—or perhaps a dressed, black Jesus on an invisible cross.

"Sweet baby, " hissed out between Israel's almost motionless lips as he blinked his eyelids. "Claire, I love your ass." Once again, PFC Israel Jerusalem seemed to only be aware of G2 Claire Murphrees.

With her crotch still nearly resting against Melvina Bimini's nose and face, the young woman giggled as she continued to focus on Iz over the smooth-looking skin of her bare, right shoulder. Suddenly, she started shaking the full, ripe cheeks of her exposed ass side-to-side as she pushed it back in the Marine's direction.