Space station of the sluts

“Harder,” she whined, her voice high-pitched with need. “Fuck me harder.”

Her wrist moved in response, pounding away as hard as she could manage. The cock seemed to be swelling inside her, filling her pussy to the brim; stretching its walls into a perfectly-molded sleeve. Zanthia’s tongue hung out of her mouth as she battered her cunt with the long, flexible tube. Lewd squelching sounds filled the air, and the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of her wrists against her skin.

“C-cumming,” she gasped, “cumming!” One fumbling hand worked her desk controls, pulling up Megan’s message box. Zanthia keyed for Recorded Message. “Oh, Station Chief,” she groaned. She raised her voice; made it loud and husky and just a little overwrought, like a cheesy actress reading a porno script. “Chief, this cock’s so big. It’s fucking me so hard. Come fuck my cock, Megan. Come stretch your pussy with me…ohhhh, god!”

With a shriek, Zanthia spasmed in her seat, one hand slapping against the armrest. The whole chair spun dizzyingly as she rammed the fake cock as deep as it would go and clenched her thighs tight around it. Waves of pleasure turned her dirty-talk into wordless little grunts, saved and recorded for Megan’s enjoyment.