Space station of the sluts

“Important call?” Zanthia asked sweetly, after Megan reached out to swat the call away.

“It would have to be, to get through my privacy settings. I’m going to have to talk to that man about what constitutes a priority message.” Megan pressed her lips together in frustrated displeasure.

“Ooh, man? You have boys calling you after hours, now?”

Zanthia uncurled herself with a giggle, and rose to join Megan on the bed. Soft flesh spilled into Megan’s lap as freckled arms reached out to entwine her. Their breasts pressed together, large and pale squishing into slender and dark. The medtech stole a long, lazy kiss that was heavy with the smell of cunt.

“Time to remind my captain why she’s my captain,” Zanthia purred into Megan’s ear. She pressed hot lips to the seashell curve, breathing wetly. Megan closed her eyes to savor the sensation; cupped Zanthia’s bottom as she fell back into the low-gee bed’s embrace. Their bodies bounced lightly together, airy and carefree.

“Show me,” she whispered, as the lights dimmed.