Fraternization

They were in the confined catwalk of level four, peering at the opened hatch of the communications module. Jahaira worked cautiously, her slim fingers nimble as she moved the tools, aimed delicately, a tiny burst of laser here, withdrawal of a connection there. She explained as she went, but fell silent after a while, concentrating on her work. He leaned over her shoulder, learning from what she said and what she did, too, watching intently. After a while he became aware of her scent, an unobtrusive animal smell, not at all offensive, and actually distracting, in that it reminded him that she was a 'she'. He shifted, moved back slightly, but there was nowhere to go in such a cramped space, and he did need to see what she was doing.

Without looking at him she began to speak, her voice unassuming, maybe a little amused. "In our culture people are very used to being closed in," she said conversationally. "But they don't like it. The older generation, especially, has very set ideas about what they call 'personal space.'"

She seemed to be waiting for a response, and so he obligingly replied. "I was just thinking about that," he admitted with a smile--not too strained, he hoped, although she wasn't looking at him in any case. "We have the same ideas. I think most animals do. Territorial needs, maybe."

"My people have a little bit of, what do you call it? Empathy, maybe?" She was responding to the surprise in his voice, to his first admission.

"I just thought I was obvious," he said, and his smile was more genuine.

"Maybe you have a little empathy, too?" She raised her eyebrows, looking down at her tool belt as she put away her tiny welder; the arch of her eyebrow, the small smile on her lips were extremely attractive.

"I don't know." He had actually tested high on receptive empathy at the Academy; latent, mostly, but with a slight knack for knowing what others were thinking, what they wanted from him. "Maybe a little." Her hair was black-black, so black that the fluorescent lights overhead brought out blue flashes in its shining curve over her head and in the intricate braid down her back. Wisps had escaped the braid, and she brushed them back, still with her back to him, still with that subtle smile. Mona Lisa, he thought fleetingly.

"It's like listening," she said. "Listen." She paused, not moving. "What does it tell you to do now?"

His body was alert suddenly; he listened. He put one hand on the wall beside her, leaning over her slightly. "It tells me to do this," he said, facetious, embarrassed, dry-throated. What if he was wrong? But she still smiled, and now she was turning.

All the way around, leaning back against the wall, the open hatch forgotten, facing him. Her face tilted up toward his, inches away; her lips curved in that secret smile. He listened; he put his other hand on the wall, framing her on both sides.

She raised one eyebrow, and he could almost--almost--hear her say it. And what now?

"Now this," he said. His heart was pounding. He kept his eyes open all the way.

They kissed. Electricity leaped between them, their bodies separate. They were locked together in an embrace as intimate as any he had ever known, almost motionless, his hands braced on the wall, her arms loose at her sides, only their mouths touching. It was not a delicate kiss. It was deep, searching, naked as only a truly passionate kiss can be. He closed his eyes.

"Sweet Jesu," he said when they stopped to breathe. He opened his eyes again, and she was grinning now. He caught her mood suddenly. It was forbidden, to fraternize with a stranger, much less someone of another species. And she was not human, although she was very close; she tasted different. Individual. Enticing. Irresistible, that, too.

"Is this the shy young ensign?" she said teasingly.

"Nope," he said, and this time he was serious.

She was not human. He kissed her mouth, her face, the lean curve of her neck. Her scent filled his head, and he closed his eyes and kissed his way down to her nipples, small and hard, and the sweet, secret place beneath the curve of her two small breasts. When he opened his eyes he could see and feel the marks of her difference--the delicate patterns on her skin, barely visible in the dim starlight within his cabin, the soft fur that ran down her spine, beneath the braid. She touched him here and there, and traced luminescent patterns on his skin with her fingers, painting him until he glowed with her touch.

"Sit up," he said persuasively, and he turned her around and, after running his hands over her smooth back, kissing her skin and tracing her shape with his hands, he began to unfasten her braid. It was long and thick, as black as space, and silky in his hands. He loosened it until her hair lay like black water over her back. He ran his fingers through it, lifted its heavy weight, kissed the back of her neck, her delicate ears. She lay back and now he kissed her belly, the sharp bones of her pelvis, the delicate mound of her pubic bone. She was furry here, too, not hairy like a human woman, but with soft, short black fur. He tasted it, licked downward. She had all the right parts, despite the differences; there was no doubting it. He buried his head between her thighs, licked and tasted her lips, felt her open and relax as his tongue probed her and then, listening all the while, he brought her to climax. Her body shuddered again and again, and her odor grew heavier, muskier, intoxicating. He didn't stop, just slowed to let her recover, then began to lick again, tracing her lips with his tongue, moving up to her clitoris and then sliding his fingers into her wet pussy, pushing insistently, roughly sometimes, until she was locked into that shuddering ecstasy again. This went on for some infinite time, until he heard her laughing, exhausted, and her hands tangled in his hair, pushing him away.

He raised himself over her, lay poised to enter her, but before he could she pushed him sideways, straddled him and, in one smooth motion, lowered herself onto him. She leaned forward, her breasts swinging tantalizingly, she moved up and down on him, stroking him close to coming, tight and hot. She sat back and ground her hips into him until he knew she was coming again; he sat up until they were facing each other, legs wrapped around each other, locked together from that core to their mouths. She opened her eyes, and, pulling her head back with a wicked smile, she began doing something no human woman could do, tightening her pussy around his cock with an irresistible rhythm, until he bucked and moaned, coming again and again, until he thought he might pass out, seeing her head thrown back through his half-closed eyes, hearing her climax with him, her body clenched tight onto him, both of them slippery with sweat.