Love and Starships: Chapter 13 [Final]
Francis let out a sigh as she put the finishing touches on her report after the second read-through, confident that the person who would end up reading it would be satisfied with it being finished at all, regardless of errors. With hardly a second look, she submitted it through the ship’s intranet and pushed off from her seat. She then flopped onto her bed and rolled around atop the messy covers which had not been made in at least a week.
The clock on the terminal beside her bed read 20:00. It’s way too early to sleep, but I’m so tired. Francis shoved her face into the pillow case. It smelled slightly like her hair, and significantly of her sweat. She rolled over and felt at her face which was slick and sticky with a sheen of sweat. Along the base of her jawline, she could feel a few distinct bumps of blackheads starting to sprout.
Francis rolled off the bed with a grunt and pulled off her top and camisole before throwing them to the ground and marching into the bathroom. She slipped off her bottoms before walking into the shower stall and turning it on. The bursts of hot air and hum of the sonic waves danced over her body. The system switched over predictably to the concentrated jets of water. Francis leaned out of the stall to grab at the bottle of shampoo and conditioner sitting tucked away at the corner of the bathroom counter, behind her tooth bush and deodorant. I guess I should actually try to properly wash my hair today.
Francis had just began to rub the viscous shampoo among her bunches of thick curls when the shower switched back blasts of air. Damn it, this type of shower was not made for people with my hair. Anxiously, she began to run her fingers up and down her locks, up to the root, as she added more gel. The shower turned back to water again, less expectedly this time. With long stroking motions, Francis began to slowly wash out sections of her hair under the water. By the time the next burst of air came, she had begun to apply conditioner in a similar fashion. The thick, oily substance easily clung to the bunches of curls, ready to be washed out as the jets of air cut off.
Just as Francis had begun to wring out the first of the product, the shower stall beeped at her, notifying her that she was reaching a limit. “No, don’t you dare!” She cursed the machine as she furiously ran her fingers over her scalp.
The final blasts of air returned with even less time than before. Francis could still feel the sticky, oily substance among her curls. She slapped on the shower’s control, causing it to beep at her loudly as a form of rejection. “Hell.” She huffed. She stomped out of the bathroom and walked to the synthesizer, immediately ordering it. “One bath towel, large.”
The moleculizer plopped out the requested item. Francis wrapped it around herself and moved to the communication’s terminal, making sure the cloth was secured under her armpits. She carefully mashed in the code for Trisha’s room.
“It’s late, again.” Trisha huffed. She looked as if she were already prepared to drift off to sleep. “What’s up?”
“Do you still have water rations for your shower?” Francis exclaimed, leaning into the camera. “I need to use them if I can.”
Trisha leaned her head back in mockery. “Come on, we’re two people in this room. You know I can’t skip washing my hair daily, either, like you.” She quickly leaned in closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you waste all your ration trying to get off? It’s not that great with no shower wand.”
“Shutup.’ Francis growled. She yanked at a strand of her hair and presented it to the camera. “I still have conditioner that I can’t wash out. My hair is going to completely frizz out.”
“Well, sorry, but I can’t help you.” Trisha shrugged. “And I know I’m the first person you would have called, so there must be someone out there.”
“Of course.” Francis sighed and ended the call. By the time she had leaned back and accepted her fate of having to use the sink to wash off her hair, the realization hit her. Skee doesn’t really take showers. Francis punched in the code for the old room, waiting patiently for the call to be answered.
“Francis?” Skee answered, still positioning himself in front of the terminal.
“I…” She muttered, not having thought of what to say.
“Your outfit seems odd, Francis.” Skee commented.
“I ran out of water while showering. I need to use yours.”
“You are more than welcome to come here and use my bathroom. You may have forgotten about what I once told you about my species…”
“No, I remember.” Francis said. “That’s why I called you specifically. I will… see you soon, then.”
“I will await your arrival.”
Francis ended the call without another word. She dropped the towel from her body and searched around for some appropriate clothing to wear on her trek down the several floors. Her pair of underwear laid on the threshold to the bathroom, still comparatively clean. She picked them up and examined the rough cotton material. What am I thinking? She quickly turned to the synthesizer for the second time that night, and made a second order. “Women’s underwear, silk lace, size 8… purple.”
A quick examination and a pang of guilt later, Francis slid on the underwear and collected up her pajamas to slip on over them. For a final touch, she grabbed up the towel and wrapped her hair up in it and placed it on her head before retrieving her body wash out of the bathroom.
Francis dodged a few glances as she made her way down the mostly empty halls and maglift to the lower decks. Francis stopped at the door and looked down at her baggy clothing before hesitantly knocking. Skee opened the door from the other side obediently. He looked her over, his eyes looking at the towel bunched atop her head. “Is there a certain meaning to that headgear?” He asked, turning his head to the side.
“It means I ran out of time while washing out some conditioner… washing liquid for my hair.” She clarified.
“I see.” Skee nodded, allowing her passage through the door. “You may use as much water as you like.”
“Thank you.” Francis said as she skipped in, walking to the door of the bathroom. She quickly looked back as Skee took a seat on his bed like normal. After closing and locking the door behind her, she dropped her pants and took off her shirt, finally removing the fresh, fancy underwear and placing them carefully on the counter.
Francis turned on the water and slowly began to wash away at the conditioner that had already began to take hold of her strands of hair. After several cycles of air and water, she finally felt satisfied with having removed it all. She quickly washed her body before the water had the chance to warn her that it was near it’s end. She activated the final blast of air and sonic waves to dry her and her hair off.
As she stepped out, she spied herself in the mirror. Before her was the embarrassing pair of lacy panties that were more transparent than not. She took a deep breath before stepping into them and wrapping the towel around her body. With a flick of the switch, she disabled the lock on the door and stepped out. “I’m finished.” She announced, grabbing Skee’s attention. She stared at him, hoping to judge his reaction.
“Your hair is… bigger than normal.” He commented, hardly moving.
“It’s from the conditioner. It got left in a bit too long.” She said, her hands gripped tightly on the hem of the towel in front of her.
Skee’s eyes moved as if he were slowly scanning her. “Is there something wrong with the shower? I understood that it dries you automatically.”
Francis took a deep breath before allowing the towel to the ground, presenting her nearly naked form to Skee. “I… made sure not to put cotton ones on… this time.” She gulped, holding her breath. “Would you like to… take a trip to the quartermaster again?”
Skee tilted his head to the side. “You are making an allusion to the previous time we… had physical contact.”
“Yes.” She stated, fidgeting with the thin strip of elastic at the waist of the panties.
Skee uncrossed his legs and stood up. “I have been thinking about that, Francis, and the fact that we may not be physically compatible.”
Francis wavered as he stepped forwards, his arms slightly outstretched. She flinched as his hands made contact with her hips, but she manage to reciprocate. Skee leaned in to kiss her. He lips met his, and she pushed him backwards towards the bed. “We can figure something out.”
As Francis placed herself on top of the alien, she began to undo the zipper on his uniform, eventually bringing it down to a spot between her legs. “Those are called… nipples?” Skee asked, wrapping his fingers around Francis’s breast.
“That’s right.” Francis answered as she leaned in close to Skee’s neck. “You found them last time; they feel good when you rub at them.”
Skee began to grasp at the fleshy protrusion as Francis nibbled at Skee’s neck and jawline. She slowly worked her hands down his shoulders, pulling the coveralls down his torso. She carefully scooted her butt back, aiming to get at his groin area. Skee bounced his pelvis as Francis extracted his lower section from the suit.
Francis glanced down at the intersection of Skee’s legs, finding nothing but a vaguely smooth hump of yellow skin. She looked up to examine his eyes, as if to request an explanation. “As I explained… unfortunately… I do not have compatible parts with which to procreate with humans.”
“Then…” Francis muttered, her eyes shooting back between Skee’s face and groin.
“How… do you? I mean, I don’t want to procreate, just… ”
Skee slowly sat up and wrapped his arm behind the small of Francis’s back. “I took it upon myself to study human’s erogenous zones.” His opposite hand slowly traveled up her inner thigh and between the gap of her leg and underwear. His finger found purchase just at the top of her clitoral hood before slightly finding its way through her folds.
Francis yelped and grabbed at Skee’s surprisingly taught shoulders. Her lips fluttered as Skee’s fingers slowly circled her parts.
Francis eventually collapsed back down on the bed, the sexy purple lace danging around her ankle. Skee laid down beside her on the cramped bed. “You… didn’t… get a chance… to feel good…” She said, trying to catch her breath.
“Reedeens are not… wired… you would say in the same way as humans.” Skee said, grasping onto Franic’s hand.
“I could sense your pleasure, if just a bit.” The alien nodded, running his fingers through Francis’s hair. “That is what makes me happy, what… stimulates me.”
“Then… I’m happy… I could do that for you… Skee.” Francis said, rolling over and taking the alien’s arm in her grasp.