Spacegal Ch 4 & 5

CW: m/f sex described in detail

Chapter 4

​ Geoffrey pushed the mop into the corner and wiggled it around. When he retracted it, the stain was still there. He frowned, dunked the mop into the bucket again, wrung it out, and then forced it back into the corner, working and twisting and rubbing it, pressing down hard on the mop shaft and really grinding it in there until he was straining from the effort. ​ When he pulled back this time, the stain had gone. He nodded to himself, and then set the mop into the holder in his cart and pushed the cart further along the corridor. At least this section was a little cleaner, he thought to himself as he dunked the mop, wrung it a little, and then slapped the dripping head to the steel floor. ​ “Hi,” Her timid voice came from behind him. Geoffrey sighed and continued mopping for a few moments as he calculated how likely it would be that she'd go away if he ignored her. He'd probably just run into her again, though. It was a pretty huge station, and yet they always seemed to cross paths. ​ He stopped mopping, turned around slightly and leaned onto the brush. She had her hands clasped behind her back and her features were knotted with worry. She could hardly bear looking at him, and for a moment a little floundering of concern threatened to creep up on him. ​ Geoffrey set his jaw and stared at her, hard. ​ She was silent a moment, as if waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, she pressed on. ​ “I came to find you to tell you I'm sorry.” She peered up at him briefly and then the floor drew her attention again. ​ He narrowed his eyes at her. ​ “Go away.” ​ She narrowed her eyes back at him. Perturbed by her continuing presence, Geoffrey started mopping again. ​ “I misunderstood what you were saying to me.” ​ “Go away,” He pushed the mop up against the skirting and worked it back and forth against the wall, rubbing at the stubborn grime that always gathered there. ​ “You see, I'm an uncouth, uneducated idiot, and I didn't know there was such a word as phaelis, p-h-a-e-l-i-s, referring to a small space creature of unidentified origin.” ​ “Go away,” He dunked the mop, and didn't wring it this time, but flopped it down next to her feet where it splayed water over her boots. She stepped back, but not from the water, but rather to make room for him to mop. ​ “Because I didn't know that word existed, I thought you were saying phallus, p-h-a-l-l-u-s, referring to the male genitalia, particularly an erect penis.” ​ He paused, casting her a cautionary sideways glance, and then continued mopping around her. He didn't tell her to go away, this time, though. ​ “I thought, in my idiotic haze of vocabularic uneducation, that you were implying that you'd had sex with me and were asking me how it was.” ​ “That's absurd,” He spluttered and then silently admonished himself for saying anything other than 'go away'. ​ “Yeah, well, that's what I thought. That's why I tried checking with you that I was hearing you right, and – well, the whole conversation was just a mess born from my ignorance and I'm sorry. I should have... I don't know, explained why I was taken aback or something, given you an opportunity to clarify.” ​ Geoffrey stopped mopping and leaned on the shaft again, looking at the patch of moisture on the floor as it dried and receded. ​ “I mean, I thought I had clarified,” She continued, taking a tentative step closer to him. “I know I asked you if you were saying you were giving me The D.” ​ The corridor they were standing in was silent – far more so than the corridor they had been standing in next to the canteen when they had had the fateful conversation. With the lack of ambient sound masking her words, he wasn't so sure now that he was hearing her correctly either. ​ “Are you saying Nadine? N-a-d-i-n-e?” He glanced across to her. ​ She met his gaze, her eyes full of worry and shame and humiliation and something else that seemed to sparkle just under the surface, and shook her head. “Nadine? No. 'The D'. As in, 'the dick'. It's just slang for referring to penises.” ​ “Oh,” He let her words sink in. “And 'giving someone The D' is... Oh. Oh.” His hearts hammered furiously in his chest as he realised his mistake in all of this, and realised that he had exacerbated the misunderstanding between them. “I thought you were saying Nadine, that you had called your creature Nadine.” ​ “That's... a kinda dumb name for a cool-as-fuck squid monster thing.” ​ “That's what I thought,” His lips threatened to curl into a smile. ​ They stood in silence for a moment. ​ “So you were asking me about Brat,” She took another step closer to him, testing the waters of amicability between them. “That's what I called it, by the way. Brat.” ​ “A more fitting name, I suppose,” Geoffrey shifted his grip to the top of the mop shaft and pumped the mop up and down nonchalantly as he thought, so that it made a gentle 'schlop, schlop' sound on the floor. “Yes, I was asking you how Brat was doing. And you thought I was... That I... Well, what you said.” ​ “Yeah. I'm sorry. I behaved like a dick.” ​ Geoffrey mulled the situation over, replaying through the conversation with this new perspective. In retrospect, he supposed, he couldn't very much fault her for being angry, if that was what she believed he had said. ​ “I think,” Geoffrey said with a sigh, “That given what I now know about how you experienced that conversation, I can't really fault you for your reaction.” ​ A beaming smile of relief flashed across her lips, unbidden and carefree, before she reigned it in and regained control of her expression. Composing herself, she allowed a much smaller curl of her lips, but the sparkle in her eyes had ignited. ​ “Thank you,” The relief in her words was harder to conceal; her voice was practically trembling. “I told Vi about the situation – you know, my Comms buddy – and she knew right away there must have been a misunderstanding because you'd never say anything like that.” ​ He shrugged. “I wouldn't.” ​ “But you and I don't really talk that much. I guess I don't know you well enough to make that call.” ​ Geoffrey returned the mop to the bucket, wrung it out and then pushed it into the holder on the cart. ​ “Maybe we should change that,” The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. He had his back to her now, and closed his eyes tightly, chastising himself for being so brash. ​ “I'd like that,” Her voice was quiet and sounded just as surprised as he had been that he'd said those words. ​ He took a deep breath and turned back to face her. Ever since their little spat he had spent his time flipping between kicking himself for not taking the time to clarify the source of the obvious misunderstanding, and hating her for flying off the handle at him for no apparent reason. Now, he felt a surge of release wash over him as he could let those worries go. He felt somewhat liberated. ​ “I am glad we have been able to move beyond this,” He chose his words carefully. “Though we barely know each other, I strongly disliked disagreeing with you.” ​ She smiled warmly at him and the tingle it caused ran from the crown of his head down the entire length of his spine and made the tip of his tail flicker back and forth. ​ Camryn looked to the movement of his tail, and then looked back at him. “Are you agitated?” ​ “Agitated? Oh -” He recalled the segment of their conversation at the canteen where he had hurriedly and somewhat inaccurately explained the flicking of his tail to her. “No. Er,” He cleared his throat as the words stuck in his mouth, “quite the opposite.” ​ “Ah,” The corners of her lips perked upwards. “You'll have to tell me all about the secret life of your tail some time.” ​ “I'm not sure my tail would like having its sordid history divulged, but if you insist,” He managed a smile of his own. This conversation was fast becoming rather pleasant – certainly a far call from where they'd left off the last time. He found himself flush with hopeful anticipation. ​ “So look, um,” Camryn kicked the toe of her boot into the floor. “Us humans, when we resolve a conflict, it's kinda customary to hug the person you made up with...” ​ “I see,” His heartbeats quickened. ​ “But I don't want to, just, y'know, force myself on you or anything. I don't know if there's something in Cleckovian culture that -” ​ Throwing inhibition to the wind, Geoffrey closed the space between them with one long stride and pulled her into a close embrace. She froze in his arms and for a terrifying moment he thought that he was doing it wrong, it had been so long since he'd hugged anyone – it wasn't exactly a part of his upbringing and Cleckovians weren't generally known for their warmth – but then he felt her relax, and she returned the embrace, snaking her arms around his waist and pressing her hands against his back, just below his shoulders. ​ He had meant it to be a quick thing, sure that awkwardness would swift overcome him if they remained in physical contact for more than the briefest of moments, but he found himself unwilling to coax his arms to release her, and besides, she appeared quite content to stay there. ​ “You're really tall,” She mumbled into his chest. ​ He smiled. “You're really short.” ​ A moment's silence passed. ​ “Do you have two hearts?” She was hovering her ear against the fabric of his janitorial jumpsuit. “I can't quite make it out, but I swear -” ​ “Yes,” He croaked, and in an utterly audacious move, Geoffrey reached one arm up and undid another fastener at his chest, and then pulled back the fabric to one side. She moved her head so that her ear was pressing directly against the scales of his chest, which made his hearts beat even harder, affording her greater chance to discern their rhythm. He closed his eyes and held his breath in an attempt to regain control of his pulse. ​ “Wow,” She whispered after listening for a moment. ​ He chanced to glance down at her, to see the top of her head below his chin, to see his arms curling around her waist. Not quite believing it, he took a slow, deep breath, watching as the movement of his chest caused her to move against him, and then released it, just as slowly, watching her sink into him again. ​ And then something between them started beeping. ​ “Shit,” Camryn pulled back and he dropped his arms from around her. She fished in her pocket and pulled out a comms pad, checked a message on the screen. “I have to go. I'm sorry. I was waiting for a call from – I set up a meeting – I found a thing -” She'd started rambling. ​ “It's fine,” He smiled at her, seeing that she looked as flustered as he felt. “We'll run into each other again.” ​ “Yeah,” She returned the smile and nervously shoved a stray length of hair behind her ear. He'd never seen her do that before. “We probably will. You can come and see Brat if you want,” She was backing away, ready to run off along the corridor. “I'll tell you what I found.” ​ “Alright,” Geoffrey reached for the mop to resume his cleaning duties. “I'll do that.” ​ She smiled again, a kind of puzzled, curious smile, and then turned and jogged off towards the elevator.

* * * *

​ Draegan Black sat at his big vanta-black desk in his vanta-black office aboard his prized warship, The Void, flicking lazily from right to left on the little screen in front of him. You just couldn't find any decent, good-looking, corporate-minded capitalist entrepreneurial pro-gentrification exploitative people any more. He'd even made the decision to broaden his dating horizons to include all genders and then, approaching desperation, had ticked the boxes for ten different species aside from his own in his preferences, but the search results being returned to him were still tiresome. ​ With a frustrated sigh, he shoved the tablet away and leaned forwards in his chair until his forehead touched the cool table. There was a knock at the door and a creak as the door cracked open on its hinges, spilling warm yellow light into his lovely black room. ​ Draegan sighed again. ​ “Yes? What is it?” ​ “Reports from Sector 12, Your Eminence,” a hand reached around the edge of the door and proffered some papers towards him. ​ “Bring.” ​ A young man timidly crept into the room, head bowed down as he scurried up to the desk, placed the papers upon it, and then scurried out again and closed the door behind him. ​ Draegan picked up the papers and scanned through the reports. ​ “Air lock malfunction on Omega Prime... Boring,” He tossed the sheet of paper to one side and it glided silently downwards to settle on the floor with a soft sssss. “Ship collision in the Frenelus atmosphere... Yawn,” He flung the paper over his shoulder. “Mysterious object found in the vicinity of Canis Station. Canis Station, Canis Station...” Draegan rapped his fingers on the desk and then picked up his tablet, tapping the screen. ​ “Your Eminence?” A face appeared on the display. ​ “Canis Station – is that the one near the wormhole?” ​ “Indeed, Your Eminence.” ​ “This report from Canis Station,” Draegan waved the piece of paper in front of the tablet, “Bring me the waitron unit who submitted the report.” ​ “Immediately, Your Eminence. I shall have them shuttled over at once.” ​ Draegan hung up the call and leaned back in his chair. Might be boring, he thought to himself. Might not, though. He steepled his fingers, curling a devious smile.

Chapter 5

​ “Blimm!” Cam embraced her friend who had waddled out from the kitchen to greet her with open arms. “Is now a good time to talk?” ​ “Yes!” Blimm wriggled out of his apron and slung it over the counter, and then ushered her to a quiet table to the side of the kitchen. “I got your message. What's going on that I can help you with?” ​ Looking around to check there were no eyes on them and nobody else in earshot, Cam slipped the data pad from her pocket and slid it across the table to her friend. She tapped the power button so that the screen lit up, and then waited for him to read the recipe. ​ “Where did you get this?” He asked without looking at her, re-reading the recipe. ​ “This is where it gets interesting,” Cam said quietly. ​ “It's already interesting. Some of these ingredients – and in these combinations – I've never seen anything quite like it.” ​ “It came through the wormhole,” She enunciated carefully, watching his expression. ​ He glanced up at her a moment and studied her face. ​ “You're telling the truth.” ​ Cam shrugged. “I'd just done a drop and had turned around to come back when it appeared on my radar.” ​ “Just like this?” Blimm tapped the tablet. ​ “It was in a little box, a metal case. I had to tractor it aboard. That's all that was inside, and as far as I can tell, that's all that's on the data pad.” ​ Blimm scrolled up and down the screen, reading and re-reading the recipe. ​ “Funny that the only person on the station who gets a special sausage from me finds a mysterious sausage recipe from a wormhole,” He eventually said, sliding the tablet back to her. ​ “The coincidence isn't lost on me. So – what do you think? Can you make it?” ​ “Oh, sure,” Blimm leaned back in his chair and gazed through the canteen window out into the junk-specked blackness beyond. “Sure, I can make it. Got the equipment here. Some of the ingredients, even. Of the ingredients I don't have, some will be easy to find. Some will not.” ​ “Anything you need from me?” Cam leaned forwards on the table. She was excited to try this new sausage recipe, even if only because it had been spat at her through the freaking wormhole with who-knew-what on the other side. Sentient life, clearly. Telepathic? Sausage-loving. She smiled. ​ “Let me think,” Blimm tapped his fingers on the table as he counted. “Fifty for the fenniorant seeds, another fifty for the ground glogellette, eighty for the tivio root – let's say two hundred chips, to be safe. Those are the most expensive ingredients I'm missing. I'll cover the rest.” ​ “I can do that,” Cam pulled her chip card from her pocket. Blimm took it and scanned it across his receiver; Cam punched in the auth code and then took her card back. ​ “This will be enough for a test batch. If they're good, then...” He shrugged. “Then we'll talk again.” ​ Cam smiled. “No hurry for them. Just let me know.” ​ Blimm stood and clapped Cam on the shoulder. “No hurry indeed – you and your sausages, you're probably chomping at the bit. Is that the expression?” ​ “Yeah,” She chuckled and stood too. “I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty damned excited to try some exotic wormhole sausage.” ​ “Between you and me,” Blimm leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “so am I.”

* * * *

​ Someone beeped the door to Jareth's quarters. He was expecting Vi, but not for a good hour yet – was she early? He wandered to the door with the toothbrush in his mouth and waved it open. ​ One of the waiters from Draegan's stood at the doorway, out of uniform. Jareth quirked a puzzled brow. ​ “Hey,” He said through a mouth full of foamy toothpaste. ​ “May I come in?” He asked. Jareth tried wracking his brain for the man's name. Ah! Merrik. It was always a peculiar experience seeing waiting staff without their uniforms and out of context, but Jareth had a great memory for names and faces. ​ He waved him in, and then retreated to the bathroom to rinse his mouth out, gesturing for Merrik to follow him. ​ “Thank you,” The man stepped into Jareth's quarters and the door hissed closed behind him. “I have a delicate matter to discuss with you and appreciate your taking the time to see me,” He followed behind Jareth and lingered at the bathroom door. ​ Jareth spat the toothpaste out and gave his mouth a good, long rinse while Merrik stood stoic just outside the room. When he was done, he patted his mouth and ushered him through to the lounge section. ​ “Have a seat,” Jareth pointed to one of the easy chairs. “What's this delicate matter? Is Draegan's taking the Infamous Bowl off the menu again? Oh no – is it closing? Is the station making you leave because of that hairgrub scandal?” ​ Merrik offered him a cursory smile. “No, nothing like that. Would you sit also?” ​ Jareth took the seat opposite, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. He hoped this wouldn't take too long – he still had to wash and blow-dry his hair, manicure his nails and oil his chest. ​ “Very well. I'll begin. We – that is to say, the staff at Draegan's – have noticed that you seem particularly fond of our eating establishment,” Merrik smiled across at Jareth. ​ “Oh, yeah,” Jareth nodded enthusiastically. “Always have been. Best grub in the universe, you ask me.” ​ Merrik wrinkled his nose; what a funny grin he has, Jareth thought. ​ “Indeed. Well, how would you like to work for His Eminence Draegan Black himself?” ​ “Wow. I mean – sure, but I kinda have a contract here as a pilot -” ​ “No, no,” Merrik held up his hand with a tight-lipped smile. “Not working at the eatery. No – His Eminence Draegan Black would like you to work for him on a personal matter. Something that will utilise your position as a pilot aboard the station.” ​ “Oh yeah?” Jareth leaned a little more forwards in the chair. This was starting to sound interesting. Draegan Black wanted him to work for him? How did he even know he existed? “He wants me?” ​ “When His Eminence learned of this matter, he requested that we find someone to carry out this task on his behalf. Someone who would hold the company's best interests in their heart; someone on our side. Considering how often you frequent the Draegan's on this station, and the zeal with which you devour our food, we consider you a perfect fit for the role.” ​ “What exactly is the role?” Jareth asked, a little confused. ​ “It's quite simple,” Merrik assured him. “We've heard about something, and would like you to dig a little deeper. Source more information.” ​ “Like a spy?” Jareth's eyes lit up. “Spying for Draegan Black? Wow, that sounds pretty cool.” ​ Merrik raised an eyebrow. “Quite. Yes – yes, like a spy – a personal spy to His Eminence Draegan Black himself. Are you interested?” ​ “Aw man,” Jareth beamed. “You bet. So what do I need to do?” ​ “We believe someone aboard the station has discovered something... special, something that we suspect might have come through the wormhole.” ​ “Wow,” Jareth leaned back, thinking hard. “Lot of people on the station. Could have been anyone.” ​ “Well, we actually suspect it was one of your friends who found it,” Merrik continued. “A woman called Camryn?” ​ Jareth rubbed his chin a moment, and then sat up as a realisation hit him. ​ “Oh! That's right, Vi was saying that Cam had found something!” ​ “Excellent!” Merrik beamed. “You see? We knew you were the right man for the job. Now – do you think you could find out what it is that Camryn found for His Eminence Draegan Black? I'm sure he would be very grateful – a personal thanks would not be off the cards.” ​ “I'll do my best,” Jareth nodded earnestly. “For Draegan Black, I'll do my damned best.”

* * * *

​ “Hey sexy,” Vi sidled into Jareth's quarters and let the door close behind her. Jareth pulled her towards him and she reached up and flung her arms around his neck and planted her lips firmly on his. It had been many, many hours since she'd last seen him, and that was in a public place not conducive to gross public displays off affection, and they were in that first rosy blush of their relationship where they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Well, that and the fact that Jareth marked the end of a particularly dry spell for Vi and she was getting in as much action as she could to make up for it. ​ “Hey yourself,” Jareth wrapped his strong arms under her butt and hoisted her up, pushing her back against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and started tugging at the buttons of his shirt. ​ “You smell good,” Vi nipped at his neck and then immediately regretted it as the bitter taste of aftershave clung to her tongue. “Maybe a little too good...” ​ “Mmm yeah, you know it,” Jareth mumbled as he squeezed her butt-cheeks and ground his pelvis into hers. ​ “Ow, shit,” Vi squirmed as the metal button on the fly of his jeans pressed into her thigh. “Let's get these off you, shall we?” ​ “I love how eager you are,” He lowered her from him and then took her hand and led her to the bedroom, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. “Can't wait to get my clothes off, can you? How about a sexy little Jareth-dance?” ​ Jareth pushed some buttons on the computer panel on the wall and soft jazz music wafted through the room speakers. He started gyrating, slowly swinging his hips and unbuttoning his shirt. ​ Vi sighed as quietly as she could, leaning back on her elbows. Really, she was just here to fuck. No need for such a song and literal dance. ​ “Oh, yeah...” Jareth pulled his shirt tails free and undid the last few buttons, pulling his shirt aside and running his hands over his exceptionally oily torso. His eyes were closed and his face focused into a knot of concentration, bottom lip pulled back between his teeth. ​ Vi twiddled her thumbs. “Shall I join you?” She sat forwards, hopeful to move the action along. ​ “Naw baby,” He flicked his long black hair back and grinned those pearly whites. “This is all for you.” ​ “Right,” She sighed again and wondered how to approach this tactfully so as to not hurt his feelings and still get laid in short order. “It's just, I'm really really horny, babe. I don't know how much longer I can wait – you're so sexy, I just want you right now.” ​ She slipped her shoes off and peeled off her blouse, and when he didn't blink, she stood and slipped off her bra and then pushed herself up against his gyrating form. ​ “Ohhh wow,” He capitulated, folding himself around her. “Fuck your tits feel good. Oh yeah, rub them all over me baby,” Jareth wriggled against her, the oil on his torso making the two of them incredibly slippery. ​ “Come on,” Vi walked backwards towards the bed as she unhooked his fly and pushed his jeans down. He stepped out of them thoughtlessly, too engrossed in rubbing his chest against hers. Her legs bumped up against the bed and she laid back, pulling him down onto her. ​ “Take my trousers off,” She whispered in his ear. ​ “Mmm,” He acknowledged her but slid downwards, burrowing his nose into her chest and cupping his massive hands around her breasts on either side, pushing them into his face. ​ Rolling her eyes, Vi wriggled her hands underneath him and undid her own trousers, pushing them down as far as she could and then kicking her feet until they were off. The attention he was giving her tits – although entirely for his own benefit – and now the feeling their almost-naked bodies pressed together was making her even more desperate to get down to business. ​ She cupped her hands under his shoulders and tried pulling him upwards but the oil made him too slippery and she couldn't get a good grip. She wrapped her legs around him instead and tried hoisting him up towards her that way. ​ “Kiss me,” She instructed him. “You're such a good kisser.” ​ “I know,” The flattery managed to divert his attention and he slid his body up along hers until their crotches bumped. She gasped at the sensation, now utterly gagging to get him inside her. He cupped his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth towards his, sinking his tongue between her lips and exploring her mouth as he kissed her deeply. ​ Now they were getting somewhere! She clasped her feet behind his back and pulled him hard up against her pelvis, tracing her fingers down along his spine and cupping her thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. ​ “You're so hot,” He mumbled and hoisted her further up the bed. “Your tits are so hot.” His one hand reached down and enveloped her one breast, squeezing and massaging the supple flesh. He pinched her nipple between his thumb and index finger, and then abandoned her mouth again, returning to her chest and wrapping his lips around her nipple instead, sucking it into his mouth and playing it gently between his teeth. She had no doubt again that he was doing this entirely for his own amusement, but luckily for her the sensation was far from displeasing. ​ “Shit yes,” She whispered breathily and used her toes to tug down his boxers. She felt his hard-on flicking loose against her hip and then the tip of his cock pushing slick against her skin. She was burning hot from her ache to fuck him, and struggled from her pants as quickly as she could. Jareth had moved his second hand to play at her right breast as his mouth still attended the left, and thus distracted she wriggled beneath him until his cock pushed against her slit and then pulled him into her with her heels against his butt. Jareth groaned loudly as Vi slid down onto him, but continued unwavering with his mouthy attention to her cleavage. Realising she'd been given command of the helm whether she wanted it or not, she rocked her own pelvis against him, pulling him back into her with each stroke by her heels at the back of his thighs. She arched her back and closed her eyes, delighting in the sensation of his slick, oily body against hers now. In a few moments he caught on that they were actually fully engaged in coitus at this point, and lifted himself up on his hands either side of her body, thrusting hard into her. ​ “Oh yeah, baby,” Jareth pushed his knees up and spread her thighs wider, ramming into her lustily. “You're such a good fuck. So good,” His eyes were closed and his lip pulled back again, the same face he'd made while he was 'dancing' for her. ​ “I know,” She echoed his own unassuming ego and locked her eyes on the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing as he ploughed her. She ran her hands up his arms, felt his rigid biceps, and up further to cup around his shoulders, kneading her fingers into his deltoids. He was by far the most ripped guy she'd ever fucked. Straight out of a strip joint. She looked at the sinew of his neck pulling with every plunge into her, and felt her orgasm building. ​ “Harder,” She instructed and dug her nails into his shoulders. He looked down at her with a grin and pumped her harder, so hard that the bed struggled against its metal frame and the mattress slipped back and forth with their movements. ​ “You like that, baby?” He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her hard onto him. He tipped his head back, flicking his long black hair out in a wave around his shoulders. ​ “Oh fuck!” Vi squealed. It was too much – the tan, the muscles, the oil, the hair, the pearly white teeth, the square jawline, the perfectly manicured eyebrows. She came hard, thighs clenching around him, body contorting. ​ “Yeah!!” Jareth yelled up at the ceiling, pounding into her fast and hard. “Yeah! That's right, baby! That's right! Oh – Oh -” His face screwed up tightly as he came into her, every muscle of his body rigid, every part of him suddenly frozen and unmoving except for his cock that pulsed inside her. ​ When he was done, he relaxed with a quick exhale and then rolled aside, leaving her on her back staring at the ceiling. ​ “Such a good fuck,” He patted her on the arm, panting. ​ Yes, well, she thought to herself; you're just lucky you're so fucking pretty. ​ “Hey babe,” Jareth leaned up on his elbow and turned to face her. “Did you find out from Cam if you could tell me what the thing is she found?” ​ “Nah,” She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and relishing in that post-orgasm glow that flushed her body. “Haven't seen her.” ​ “Oh,” He sounded disappointed. “It's just – I really want to know what it was.” ​ She peeked across at him – he was staring at her intently. ​ “Soon as I know I can tell you, you'll know,” She shrugged. “But I'm not telling you unless she says it's okay.” ​ He sighed and rolled onto his back again. “Damn.” ​ “Go and ask her yourself if it's such a big deal,” Vi stood from the bed and wandered to the bathroom, scooping up her scattered clothing along the way. ​ “Yeah,” She heard Jareth responding from the bed. “Yeah, maybe I will.”


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