Woody Allen once said that sex was the most fun he'd ever had without laughing. But laughing and sex are not mutually exclusive. Horniness brings on undignified behaviour, and it is all the more fun if we are in on the joke. This blog is a celebration of the funny side of sex and the sexy side of humour. As an author of erotic stories I like to show that sex is more fun when it is playful and silly.

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Friday, August 12, 2011

A Spacecraft Named Desire : Fuck Me Friday

For this week's Fuck Me Friday story we pick up from where we left off last Friday. If you haven't already you may want to read part one Lust in Space first. For an explanation of Fuck Me Friday and links to everyone's else's stories, check out Aisling Weaver's site.

A Spacecraft Named Desire

"It must get boring living here on Altair with only your mother for company," I said to Altairus as we trudged across the desert landscape towards their massive bio-dome.

"I have my menagerie for company," he pointed out.

"Menagerie?" I asked.

"You'll see," he told me.

Sure enough, when we entered the dome, we found that one side of it was taken up by a couple of dozen cages, each containing an earth animal. There was a tiger, a crocodile, an elephant, a kangaroo, a polar bear and various smaller animals.

"You brought all of these animals with you in a spaceship?" I queried.

"No," explained Morbia. "We have a matter transporter. I was able to transport these animals here from earth for Altairus' amusement. It also helps with the grocery shopping."

"What the fuck is that?" I asked, examining something truly disgusting in a massive aquarium.

"We call it a flark," explained Altairus. "It was a mistake. There was a fly in the matter transporter when we were transporting a tiger shark. It has all of the disadvantages of a shark combined with the disadvantages of a fly. It has to keep swimming constantly. It can't fly. And it has no teeth, so it has to puke stomach acid onto a fish before sucking it up that tube. It does have big eyes though."

"It sure does," I admitted, feeling uncomfortable as its multifaceted peepers stared at me through the glass.

"Don't you ever get lonely for female company?" asked Chief Engineer Jones, pulling down the zip on her skin-tight leather space suit to expose some creamy cleavage.

"When the time is right and I have chosen someone suitable, I will transport a bride for my son," Morbia explained. "In the meantime I am happy that he is living here with me, and not liable to fall into the hands of some slutty space jockey. No offence."

"She needs to lighten up," whispered Mavis, the ship's tea lady.

"Perhaps I could offer you a massage," I suggested. "It seems the least we can do to make up for the inconvenience we have forced upon you by crash landing here."

"Yes, I am a bit tight," admitted Morbia, flexing her back muscles.

I left the crew to flirt with Altairus and led Morbia into her bedroom.

"Who's a naughty girl, wearing no panties under her magisterial robes?" I teased, as I lifted said garment and gazed down upon Morbia's pale sagging buttocks.

"One likes to be comfortable," she replied. "Naughtiness has nothing to do with it."

I pulled off her single garment and gave her a conventional rub-down.

"Now don't you try anything," she warned. "I know all about you Pleasure Units." She was lying on her back.

"You mean you don't want me to do this?" I asked, making my fingers buzz and circling them gently around her stiff nipples.

"That... oooooh.... is..... ahhhhhh..... precisely..... mmmmm.... what I don't.... oh, Jesus.... want you to do...." she tried to say.

"Oh, O.K. I'll stop that then," I said, lifting my fingers from her breasts. "It's a good thing you warned me," I added, "because I was just about to do this." And I plunged a vibrating finger as far as it would go up her dripping wet pussy.

"How dare you violate me with that big fat fuckworthy finger cock of yours, you dirty filthy cunt wanker!" she cried, as she lubricated my joints with her pussy juice.

The next thing I knew she was pressing her lips against the hole in my metal head where my voice comes out. I've never had that reaction before.

"Do I turn you on, baby?" she purred.

"Actually, no," I pointed out. "As you know, Pleasure Units are not, themselves, capable of feeling pleasure."

"Yes, I know," she said sadly. "God, how I miss being with a man. The feel of skin on skin and the warm wetness of cum shooting into my cunt or my mouth."

"You really are a bit of a slut on the quiet, hey?" I nudged her shoulder.

"But my son must know nothing of this," she warned me. "I have gone out of my way to keep him innocent. Not every bride weds a man who will treat her with reverence and warm affection, and I wish this for the woman who marries Altairus."

"Discretion is my middle name," I lied. (I don't have a middle name, but if I did it would be Blabbermouth.)

"You know, I might be able to help you," she mused.

"In what way?" I asked.

"How would you like to experience pleasure?" she wanted to know.

"Is that possible?" I queried. "You're not suggesting you could install a nervous system?"

"No," she responded. "But I have invented something called the empathy circuit. It allows a robot to feel a human's feelings. Of course you can't feel anything in your body without a nervous system. But this circuit forms a wireless connection with the consciousness of anyone within a radius of six metres. You would feel their pleasure or pain or any other sensations, but you would feel them in their body. It would be as if their body was yours."

"Sounds awesome," I replied.

You know, sometimes, when your dreams come true they turn out to be nightmares.

She opened up my head and inserted the new circuit, and half an hour later I was find out what it felt like to be a sexually frustrated middle-aged woman wanking off in front of a robot. And, believe me, that was a big plus for her. She loved to be watched. Which was weird for me, because I was getting off on watching myself, kind of. The other weird part about it was feeling what it feels like to be a woman. I don't have a penis, but my programming was based on a male identity, so this was a particularly exotic experience for me.

The circuit did have a side effect though. As well as feeling the physical sensations of the other individual, it allowed me to see what was going on inside their head. In Morbia's head I found envy of the youth of the crew members, fear that they would lead her son astray, and an impatience that they be gone. But this was mixed with a sense of regret that the departure of the ship would also mean my departure and a return to no-frills masturbation for her.

Her fears about the crew and her son were well-founded. When we joined them in the dining room for the evening meal, we found that they had all unzipped their space-suits all the way down to their navels.

"He really is innocent," Captain Ripley whispered to me. "We've been flirting with him shamelessly and all he does is blush and stutter."

I hadn't told the Captain about the empathy circuit. In her mind I could see her laying back naked in bed with her legs spread. Altairus was there, naked and with a rock-hard cock. And she was saying, "You don't have to be shy, my dear. Come and kiss the Captain's cunt."

A moment later Altairus leaned in on my other side and said, "Does she really want me to kiss her cunt?"

Something weird was happening. How come Altairus also knew what the Captain was thinking?

"It's a pity you can't stay on our planet for longer," Altairus said to the crew. In his mind I saw all of the crew members naked, crawling around on all-fours in cages eating out of dog bowls, just like the animals in his menagerie.

Gradually, I could see it in the eyes of the crew as this vision appeared also in their minds. They knew where it was coming from. And they weren't happy about it. That is with the one exception of Paula Pasolini, the Navigation Officer, who was really into that kind of kinky shit.

"You sexist pig!" yelled the Captain.

"Yeah!" yelled most of the rest of the crew.

Paula just giggled and felt her pussy go wet.

I opened up my head and pulled out the empathy circuit.

"Now! Now!" I called out. "Morbia gave me a circuit which allows me to experience what is going on in people's heads. But it seems that it also telecasts that information to all and sundry. Not a good idea, as we can see. So I'll use the circuit only in private in future."

"It doesn't change the fact that he's a sexist pig," pointed out the Captain.

"Let she among you who was not raping the guy in her mind cast the first stone," I declared.

And so disaster was averted. Well, on that front anyway. Unfortunately Morbia's belief in her son's state of innocence was shattered for good. She sank into a deep depression as she devoted herself to repairing the damage to our ship.

Altairus approached me in private on our penultimate day on the planet.

"Is there any chance you could sneak me aboard the ship before take-off?" he asked. "I got enough of a glimpse of what those women wanted to do with me to realise how much fun it would be to join the crew."

"What they wanted to do to you before or after they got a glimpse of your idea of a petting zoo?" I queried.

"Either," he smiled. "A little discipline might be good for me."

"It might at that," I agreed. "O.K. I'll help you out."

I told Morbia what we were planning. She deserved a chance to say goodbye to her son, and, I realised, this could be a good thing for her.

"This will make things easier for you," I pointed out. "You'll know that Altairus is happy, but you won't have him around to cramp your style."

"But I'll be alone," she pointed out.

"You don't have to be," I told her. "You have the matter transporter. Instead of transporting a bride up her for Altairus, you can advertise on earth for young guys who want to share a luxurious planetary accommodation with a sexually voracious cougar."

"I'll call it The Planet Where Nothing is Forbidden!" she cried.

"That's the idea," I encouraged her.

I helped Altairus to hide in the storage room just before take off.

"Well," sighed the Captain, "here's to a long boring uneventful journey to the Horseshoe Nebula."

I headed back to keep an eye on the door to the storage room. It wouldn't do for Altairus to be discovered until we were far enough out that a return to Altair was out of the question.

I was feeling bored so I opened my head and re-installed the empathy circuit. Altairus was the only individual within six metres. It seemed safe.

Wow! I thought. So that's what it feels like to have a penis. And that's what if feels like to have a really stiff penis and a mind full of fuck fantasies. And that's what it feels like to stroke that penis and feel it throb with pleasure.

And then a new sensation appeared. So that's what it feels like to be the Captain of the spaceship, zipped into her tight leather space suit, feeling it stretched tight across her breasts. And that's what it feels like when her pussy becomes mysteriously wet and her clit stands out stiff and is rubbed by the crotch of her tight leather suit.

And that is what it is like when she thinks, "So that's what it is like to have a penis and to feel it go stiff and to stroke it while it throbs with pleasure. What the fuck!"

The next thing I knew crew members were running out into the corridor saying how horny they were and rubbing the crotches of their space suits. And I knew what was going on in every head, as did they.

"He's on board and he's wanking our cock!" they cried in unison. "Let's bare his/our vaginas so he can fuck them."

It must have been the ship's circuitry acting as a conduit for the empathy circuit in my head. It had turned the whole of the crew into a single erotic entity, every body able to experience the pleasure of all the other's simultaneously.

Altairus burst out of his hiding place as the women stripped out of their uniforms. The Captain was the first to suck his cock. Some of the others kissed and licked his nipples and his face, while fingering each others pussies. Paula got down on all fours and began yapping and humping people's legs.

Before the day was out Altairus' cock had plundered every crew member's cunt and mouth and one or two assholes as well. The women had all become inveterate pussy lickers. And a good deal of masturbation had also gone on. It kind of didn't matter how the pleasure was being delivered, to whom or by whom, because they all experienced it all courtesy of my empathy circuit.

I would have removed the circuit again, in the interests of shipboard efficiency, but the crew ganged up on me and welded my head permanently closed.

It's alright for them. It's a non-stop nude orgy day in and day out. But who do you think has to do all the work? I swear, one of those days I'm going to plug myself back into the ship's wiring and fuck them all if we run out of power.

The End

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