A pretty young Ensign learns that the Space Academy way is not the only way. A sci-fi sex story
“Captain,” this quiet voice said, “permission to speak?”
I put down my stylus and looked up into the dark eyes of a lovely, young ensign with a killer body. “Of course,” I said, feeling my prong jump. Obviously, I had been working too hard. She was a joy to watch breathe.
“McKeever,” she said, “Ensign Race McKeever.” She tapped the nametag on her big left breast. It jiggled, the boob not the nametag.
“Race?” I asked, puzzled as I admired her full-chested and long-legged body. Somewhere, I am sure, there is an officer who chooses girls for the Academy, and someday I want to thank him. Her jumpsuit looked to be painted on, ready to burst. “At ease, McKeever.” Her nipples did not relax.
“A family name, sir. It’s about my duties.”
I sat back and admired her, head to toe. Succulent was the word that came to mind. Good enough to eat, as my grandfather loved to say. I nodded and resisted the urge to lick my lips.
She took a deep breath that strained the top of her normally shapeless jumpsuit which was at least a size too small, showing that my quartermaster was up to his usual tricks. “One of my jobs for the first quarter of this voyage,” she licked her lips, “one of my duties is what they call bed-warmer, sir, sexual relief, you know, daily or as required, sir. I have been assigned to you, to help you as it were, however, you wish.”
“Really?” I lifted an eyebrow, very pleased to hear that since I was thinking about how to bed her. “Well, we’ve been rather busy what with that freshwater problem and those computer glitches. I was not aware of that.” On earlier missions, we had been issued drugs that suppressed sexual desires, or at least stored them out of mind, a process that made for a hell of a post-voyage week.
She nodded. “But it has been three weeks, sir, twenty days actually, and it is one of the things on which I will be evaluated, giving you the satisfaction that is.”
My XO and I had been taking turns on Lieutenant Madison, a very inventive young woman who could do it while in zero-G or hanging by her heels in a doorway, a luscious female who could create a vacuum in her mouth, so I had not thought of any officer being assigned to my bed for exercise. It was something new, but it slipped my mind since this was my first time away from a New Washington desk for several years. I flipped open my calendar and smiled at her after pushing my cock down my leg.
“Any watch, sir,” she said, rather eagerly I thought.
“Fourteen hundred, ensign? Or would 1900 be better?”
She licked her lips and smiled. “How about both, sir. We could get caught up, you might say.” She blinked her dark eyes at me and made a tiny smile.
I put her name in both slots. “You know where my quarters are?”
She nodded, saluted, turned on her heels, and left, hips rolling, a fine ass. I wondered how high I could bounce her. Out of curiosity, I punched up the duty rosters and saw that every female and the two male ensigns had similar assignments, in fact, most were doing two or three senior officers, and I was the only one with a girl all to myself. Rank does have its privileges, you know. I wondered how the young ensign doing those four Marines were coping and made a note to check on her.
So after a light lunch and overseeing some routine emergency practice on the starboard escape craft, I went up to my cabin and there she was, standing by the hatch. According to her papers, Race McKeever was a healthy 22-year-old fresh out of the Academy with a major in astral navigation. She was five-foot-ten, 135 pounds, and wore a size fourteen uniform. I opened the door and ushered her in, smelling her clean hair and getting quickly aroused.
I sat at my small desk, unbuttoned my shirt, and said, “Strip.”
She blinked at me. “Fully?” she asked. “It isn’t really necessary.”
“Fully,” I said, pulling off my shirt and undershirt.
She slid down the closer, wiggled her big body wonderfully, toed off her slippers, and stepped out of her jumpsuit wearing issue underclothes but no bra. I stood after removing my shoes and got out of my pants and turned back the covers on my bunk. By then she was bare and it took but one look at her lush body for my cock to jump to attention, quivering and pointing upward, ready for liftoff and insertion. I grinned down at it, my pride I fear, and I smacked it, just to see it spring back.
“Oh,” she said, looking at it and licking her lips. “It’s awfully big, isn’t it?”
I smiled. “Just average, Ensign. Climb in.” Indeed it was a good bit bigger than average and on a good day, hard as tempered tungsten. I bobbled it in my hand.
She rolled into my rack all the way to the wall. “The cadet I did it with at school, at the Academy, his thing, his member was twelve centimeters long, and I remember learning that was about average, twelve to sixteen.” Her nipples were hardening and erecting, little rosebuds on full melons, and her bulging groin was hairless as was mine, another stupid reg, burning off private hair in the name of cleanliness.
I stroked my stiff ram. “This tool’s about 21 cm,” I said. “I’m a bit older.” I lay down beside her and pulled up the light covers. My prong tented them up proudly and her hand came to hold it, gently, down at the thick base.
“It’s hot,” she said. “So was his. I remember that. He said it was the blood.”
“You’ve only done this once?” I asked, putting my arm about her shoulders and pulling her closer.
She nodded. “We had a six-week unit and copulation was part of the final. The surgeon had removed my hymen when I was a plebe when he tied my tubes. That made it easier. Essohpee, sir.”
“They taught fucking at the Academy?” While my right hand pulled her toward me, my left stroked her flank and then caressed her breast. It was a bit more than a handful. I stretched out her nipple, and she looked at me and whimpered. She stroked my big ram steadily, from the top down, as if slicking on a condom and poked my scrotum, out of curiosity perhaps. It probably felt like a cue ball.
“Ready?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “That’s silly isn’t it?” She swung a leg across my flanks and very quickly impaled herself on my upright prong, screwing herself down with a look of concentration on her pretty face, mouth open and eyes closed, jugs swinging, abs quivering, buttocks tensed. “Oh my,” she said as our bellies met.
I held her at the hips, smiling up at her as she tried to get comfortable in the saddle and dug her knees into my ribs. Then she started hammering on my loins, straight up and down moves from the waist that quickly accelerated while she grunted out, “Ah, ah, ah, ah,” as fast as she could, breasts thrusting out and muscles tensed, smacking us together with her pelvis. It was fierce, and the kind of thing one might expect at the end of a long period of much slower and deeper and more pleasant coital exercise. I felt my balls tremble and I came, gritting my teeth and jetting out my sperm in her tight passage before I could even lift my paws to maul her big tits. It had taken perhaps thirty seconds.
She smiled down at me, licked her lips, rolled off, stood, and picked up her singlet with my spew oozing down her leg.
Are you done?…
“Whoa,” I said loudly as I sat up, my cock still hard and dripping. “Are you done?”
She nodded, found her voice after swallowing a couple of times, and said, “Yes, sir. Do you want me to lick it, sir?”
“Is that how they taught it, that hurried inning and outing?”
She nodded and she pulled up her boxer-style underpants. “Friction and ejaculation, sir; that was the goal.”
“And you passed the course, the unit?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, “four-point-oh.”
“Who taught the course? Was it a woman?”
“Commander Bullton, sir. She emphasized getting the job done, no wasted time or effort. A bodily function she called it.”
“Was she a lesbian, Sapphic? Do you know?”
“Never thought of it, sir.” She pulled up her jumpsuit and covered her ripe body which glowed pinkly from our brief exercise. I do not think she had broken a sweat.
“Well Ensign,” I said, as calmly as I could, both angry and disappointed, “were I to grade you on your performance today, I might give you a one-point-five if I were feeling generous. It was very disappointing.” I swung my feet to the floor, my slimy cock still rearing up, utterly unsatisfied. “Very.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I did it just as I was taught.”
“It was piss poor. Did you enjoy it?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t expect to, sir.”
“Nineteen hundred, Ensign. Be here on time. Dismissed.” She blinked and left. I hit the intercom and asked for Lt. Madison to report to the captain’s quarters. I badly needed a suck and a fuck.
Five hours later, Ensign McKeever reported as scheduled, saluted, and stood before me. I smiled at her and said, “This is going to take the whole hour. Have you any other duties?”
She shook her head. “No sir. I’m off duty until oh-six hundred. An hour, sir?”
“Well then,” I said, as I pulled down the closer between her high, firm jugs, “this may take more than an hour. We are going to start with what is called foreplay. Ever hear of it?”
She shook her head as the closer passed her soft belly, and I peeled back her suit, slipped my hand under her singlet, and grasped a breast, firmly. I pulled her down on my lap and kissed her, pretty roughly, while I peeled off the rest of her clothes. I rolled her onto my bed, got out of my own clothes, and joined her, smiling, planning to enjoy myself thoroughly, already iron hard.
It really didn’t take as long as I thought it might and in a few minutes she was squirming in my arms and begging me to put it in her, to hurry, to do it, do it, please, please, please she begged after only a short session of deep kissing, mons rubbing, and exploratory petting.
I did her missionary, push-ups, and penetration, got her to wrap me in her muscular legs, and brought her to a fine, gasping climax as I ground our pubic areas together and humped her hard and deeply for five minutes or so, varying angles and speeds. She stifled a scream with her fist, her body absolutely rigid, only her head and shoulders on the bed.
I rolled her over while she was still gasping for air, her fingers clawing at the covers, and took her from behind, first down flat and then upon her knees while I grasped her jugs to hold her to me. After she came again, I let her flop and snuggled up behind her, spoon fashion, and eased my still-hard ram into her dripping slot. She whinnied like a colt, and I rubbed past a very sensitive area several times, producing a shiver with each pass. I planned on this third coupling to last a good while.
“Did you enjoy that?” I asked quietly as I petted her big breasts and put my body on autopilot, just thrusting and recoiling without thought or effort, five-second spasms.
She nodded and made an odd noise, a kind of sighing groan.
“The idea, Ensign, is that both parties should give and receive pleasure. I enjoyed it so far and, evidently, so did you. We’re off to a good start. Right?”
She nodded and groaned. I thrust and squeezed, popping out her hard nipple. The thing was as big as the last joint of my thumb.
“Good,” I said, “I’d give you perhaps a two-point-five so far, but you have to put in a lot more effort if you want a three. Understand?”
“Uh, uh,” she gasped, a kind of sob as I continued to plow her and milk her. I pulled her face toward mine and kissed her while I gently massaged her clit and brought her to her third orgasm in fifteen minutes. She shuddered and begged me to let her rest. I rolled her atop me, got my thick stallion back into her squishy tunnel, and pulled her down on my chest. “Rest,” I whispered as my cock quivered inside her.
Thirty minutes later as we lay together, nose to nose, genitals still engaged, she whispered, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Can you make your pussy grasp more firmly? You’re getting kind of loose.”
She tensed her fine, young muscles, and I smiled at her. “There’s a friend of mine, Ensign Grant, who is having a problem. She’s assigned to the Fleet Marines, and those four officers do her every single day, all four of them.”
“Those are good-sized fellows,” I said, flexing my horn and producing a happy squeal.
She nodded. “Each of them’s more than a hundred kilos, and she said their penis is as big as her forearm.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised.” I grabbed her buttocks with both hands and pulled her tighter, ready for a final romp before getting back to work.
“Could you, oh damn, sir, could you, oh sir, please, could you ask them, ahh, ask them to, oh that’s wonderful, sir, right there, right there, ask them to take it easy on her, sir. Yah, yah, yah,” and she was off, bucking and fucking like a madwoman. She had learned a great deal in an hour.
At 0900 I talked to the Marine colonel in charge of our detachment. He was a big, bluff man of about my age who stood at parade rest and stared over my head.
“You and your officers are enjoying a new ensign are you?” I asked.
He nodded. “She’s adequate, barely, sir. Not much meat on her.”
“You have her every day, every watch?”
“There’s four of us,” He said. “We take turns. She gets at least a couple of hours to recover, do her other work, between beddings. Four a day ain’t so bad, sir.”
“I want you to cut back to two men a day on her. Understand? And I’ll assign another ensign for you from now on. She can do the other two.”
“Ensign Grant reported to sickbay at 1300 yesterday after Captain Putnam corn-holed her. He’s kind of rough sometimes, sir.”
“All right. I send you a substitute, Ensign McKeever, but two a day, no more than two. You can work it out, right?”
“McKeever,” he said. “When Grant gets back to her duties, then all four of us can get laid each day, right, sir?”
“Exactly,” I said with a smile, thinking of Lt. Madison’s ripe body and talented tongue.
DUTY CALLS is a sci-fi sex story presented by eroticprose.com. The home of sexy stories and Literotica.