Chapter 11 Jean
Finally…
Finally, my efforts are paying off.
Back on the Scarlet Ship, I was never able to make it happen on my own.
I always had to use the replica of the Emperor’s wang.
I was about a minute away from leaving the safety of the bug shell and continuing my trek to the crash site in the hopes that I might find a jade phallus to ease my suffering.
Of course, I would never be able to find my way in the dust storm, but my urges had become so intense, I was having trouble thinking rationally.
But now… yes… I think I’m going to be able to make this work.
Just a moment ago, the funniest feeling stole over me. A sense that everything was going to be okay. I could feel it vibrating deep within my body. I let go, and surrendered to my fantasy completely.
I am thinking about my imaginary friend. The same one I conjured last night in my bedchamber. The Emperor who isn’t the Emperor. An alien warrior or slave. In my fantasy, it is his hand touching me, not my own. And the longer I rub myself, the realer this fantasy seems.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper to the darkness. “Please, don’t stop.”
The feeling of relaxation grows inside me, until I swear I can almost hear it vibrating.
The fingers touching my clit are no longer my own.
They are bigger, differently shaped, the fingers of an alien male.
When I open my eyes, I imagine I can see him leaning over me, his hand between my legs, his eyes fixed on my face, studying every signal I’m giving off, every gasp and flutter of pleasure.
“That feels good,” I whisper. “You make me feel so good.”
I’m already touching one of my breasts. Now I lift my hand away from my pussy and squeeze the other one too.
The fingers on my clit stay in place, stroking me with the same steady rhythm.
I don’t know how that’s even possible, but I remember something similar happened before, last night in my bedchamber aboard the ship.
God, I had completely forgotten about that, but the memory comes surging back now. The dream of a dark planet, of hot wind and ashes. Was that a premonition of this place? How could that even be possible?
I should probably be worried about that, but at the moment, I’m not. Right now, nothing matters except my need.
I close my eyes again and massage my breasts while the fingers continue to stroke me.
“Inside,” I murmur. “Touch me inside.”
A long finger slides downward from my clit, separating my slick folds. The tip of it finds my entrance and rubs it, gathering the wet arousal leaking there. Then it pushes inside me slowly, exploring my sensitive inner walls. My pussy flexes and flutters around it.
The fingertip grazes the sensitive spot on my front wall, and I gasp on an inhale as a spark of pure pleasure zaps through me. The finger pauses, then touches me there again, eliciting a desperate whine.
“That’s it,” I whisper. “Right there…”
The finger curls inside me, caressing my special spot. My walls swell with arousal. A second finger joins the first, stroking me with a double rhythm. I begin to writhe and moan.
That strange peaceful sensation grows stronger still, a gentle masculine purring that carries me like a river of sound, bearing me along through a landscape of ecstasy, past rolling hills of bliss and mountains of sin.
I can hear my climax rumbling like a waterfall in the distance, waiting to send me tumbling over the edge and shatter me into a million little pieces on the rocks below.
“Yes,” I beg. “Yes… Yes…”
A tongue is on me now, teasing my clitoris while the fingers inside me continue doing their thing. The licks are exploratory at first, discovering what I like before homing in on my pleasure centers, stroking me harder and deeper, deeper and harder.
The purring becomes even more intense. I can feel it vibrating right between my legs. The waterfall is so close now, roaring just around the bend of my mind.
“I’m going to come,” I gasp to no one. “You’re going to make me come…”
My pussy squeezes hard, gripping the imaginary fingers inside me until they can barely curl anymore.
They switch to thrusting, sliding in and out of me like two stiff cocks, brushing hard against my tender spot.
Saliva drips down my pussy, mixing with my own slippery arousal.
My body trembles with my impending orgasm.
My muscles tense. I drop my hands between my legs again, and my fingers touch a headful of long, thick hair, twisted here and there into tightly woven braids.
It feels real—too real.
I don’t care. I’m so close now, so very, very close. And I need it so very badly.
The fingers fuck me faster, harder. My hips rock, thrusting against the fingers that are thrusting into me.
Wet sounds issue from deep within my body, and a sharp cry breaks from my lips as I finally go over the edge, tumbling headlong into the yawning chasm of my release.
It seems to go on for an eternity, one brutal climax spilling over into the next, and the next, and the next, until the pleasure becomes something even more unbearable than the pain that came before it.
I want to plead for a respite, but my lips cannot form the words, and the fingers and tongue between my legs are unrelenting, forcing me to come again, and again, and again…
When it’s finally over, I lie on the dirty ground, panting and spent.
Everything between my legs is messy and wet.
My skin is damp with sweat. I am dimly aware of the fact that I should get up, clean myself, get dressed.
I’m alone on an alien planet, hiding inside the shell of a giant bug.
I should be scared shitless, but I’m not.
I’m just… tired.
So very, very tired…
Outside, the dust storm seems to be dying down, but those other vibrations are still going strong. That strange, soothing hum is now lulling me toward unconsciousness. I should get up, I really should, but my eyelids are too heavy to keep open, my body too weak to move.
All I can do is roll to one side with a quiet sigh, and let the arms of sleep enfold me.