Ilaria

The recreation hall of The Vanguard was filled with cheap furniture, musty books and a small collection of battered food prep appliances. Ilaria still preferred it to the heaving bustle of the cafeteria, even an extrovert like her got overwhelmed in those crowds. She filled her noodle cup with boiling water and settled herself in with her friends on one of the dingy sofas. The Vanguard had some great tech, the kind of stuff Ilaria would sell an eyeball to afford for her personal collection of, what her mother called, junk. However, the ship budget had not stretched as far for their living comforts as it had for the technological machinery on-board. If Ilaria had been the one setting the budget, she would have done exactly the same, except maybe a little bit set aside for some soft seats.

She had managed to convince Vita to have her lunch at the same time as her so that all of their friends could be together. Previously that hadn’t even been something they had to think about, but now their schedules had been altered. These days at the time Vita would have lunch, Ilaria’s mouth hadn’t long since been filled with toothpaste. But they had found a time slot compromise, and Ilaria was excited to have her break with her friends all together again.

Squeezed onto the sofa were Ilaria, Vita, and Vita’s current crush: Philippe (the ship’s human maintenance officer). He was also a good friend of Ilaria’s; they had worked together on a few other ships prior to The Vanguard. She had also concussed him recently in a violent game of musical chairs. All was forgiven as easily as always; they had done worse to each other before. At the table beside them sat Cascading-Water (Cassy to her friends and those without the time to spare to say her full name). She was Philippe’s Ailu’t counterpart. From what Ilaria had been able to tell so far, Cascading-Water had a little thing for Vita. But who liked who was none of Ilaria’s business; she just enjoyed the awkward yet flirtatious show taking place between the three of them.

A domineering figure entered the room, stealing the attention of everyone within it.

“I stopped by the navigations department and found it empty,” Mercy announced, only the slightest irritation could be heard in her always-polite voice.

“We are having lunch,” Ilaria said, her tone snippy.

Mercy’s eyes became lasers burning into Ilaria’s. “You understand that the reason behind changing your schedules was to ensure more coverage for the navigation sector as a whole,” she said through gritted teeth. The points of her shark-like canines glinted menacingly even when she was forcing her face into a neutral mask.

Vitality jumped up, her body so tightly wound that Ilaria was certain she could twang her like a banjo string. “Apologies, Commander,” she said, suddenly both breathless and spineless. “I will return to my station now.”

Ilaria leapt up alongside her. “The hell you will,” she yelled. “Sit down and enjoy your break, Vita. I bet she doesn’t even need us for anything important.” She turned to Mercy. “You’re being nit-picky and fault-finding because apparently you have nothing better to do with your time!”

“Go fuck yourself, Ilaria,” Mercy growled.

“Fuck me yourself, you lazy bitch!” She turned to her friends with an exaggerated expression of exasperation. “I swear she expects me to do everything around here - next I’ll be on latrine duty!”

An arm slammed into her gut, swooping her up to dangle horizontally at Mercy’s hip.

“Please excuse us,” Mercy said in her irritatingly professional voice.

Philippe, Vitality and Cassy said nothing, but their faces were screaming. They couldn’t stop their eyes bouncing between the spectacle of Ilaria being carried out and each other. They would definitely be gossiping the moment she and Mercy were out of earshot.

She was carried in completely the wrong direction for the navigation department, and Mercy didn’t stop at her office. Just as Ilaria was about to cave and ask where they were going, Mercy halted and pressed a code into the door in front of them.

With the door open she launched Ilaria inside and shut it behind them. Ilaria stumbled and spun to give Mercy a piece of her mind - a proper tongue lashing. But her tongue was wrestled into a forfeit when Commander Mercy, the great leader and ball-buster of The Vanguard, kissed her. Not just kissed her, tongue-fucked her mouth like she was attempting to tie Ilaria’s tongue up in a knot, cherry-stalk-style.

Ilaria hopped up, looping her arms around Mercy’s neck and her legs around her waist. Mercy’s hands clawed at Ilaria’s back and behind. They devoured each other in a clash of lips, tongues and teeth. It took every ounce of her willpower to break the kiss, although her arms remained tightly tied around her commander’s neck.

“Whose quarters are these?” Ilaria gasped.

Mercy chuckled. “Mine.”

Ilaria pulled back and raised her brows incredulously. Mercy’s hands slid to support her lower back, keeping her up in the air as she took another sweep of the room with her disbelieving eyes, confirming she hadn’t been hallucinating when they first burst in. In her mind, Mercy lived in a monochrome world of neatness and anti-bacterial scent. This room was colourful, filled with trinkets that didn’t match and small piles of mess in the corners.

“You’re messy!” Ilaria accused excitedly.

“I’m untidy, there’s a difference! Messy is dirty. Everything in here is clean, it’s just that not everything has a place.”

“Your office looks like it belongs to a movie villain!” Ilaria said with a laugh. “Why is it so different to this?”

“I have more storage and less stuff in there,” Mercy answered huffily. “Are these really the questions you want to ask? Rather than why I just kissed you?”

“You’re so funny, Commander.” Ilaria brought their faces close enough to touch again. “As if we didn’t both see this coming a mile away. You’ve been practically frothing at the mouth to fuck me since we left Earth,” she drawled.

Mercy neither agreed nor denied Ilaria’s words, instead she snatched her up into another kiss. Ilaria wasn’t complaining. She kissed her back hungrily, bumping against her commander’s sharp teeth and mewling into her lavender lips. She wanted those canines sinking into her, pricking her with pain.

The tall woman carried her to edge of the double bed and Ilaria felt a flash of jealousy that she only got a standard issue single-size cot. Her bitter thoughts were knocked out of her when her back hit the sheets as Mercy unlocked her hands, dropping her heavy-handedly.

With newly-free fingers she used them to pull open Ilaria’s uniform jumpsuit and drag it down until her arms were trapped at her sides and her chest was completely exposed. She left it scrunched at Ilaria’s waist and ducked her head to her beaded nipples.

The moment those dagger-like teeth nicked her nipple, Ilaria was soaked. She was no virgin, but it had been a long time since someone had latched on to her, mouthing at her breast and rolling her nipple between their lips. She squirmed her thighs together, feeling her slick making its way down her heated skin. Her jumpsuit’s coarse material scratched at her slippery inner thighs, and she wriggled her legs to make it clear she was eager to keep the pace up. The quicker they were both butt-naked, the better. Mercy grumbled against her skin, sending ripples over her areola.

“I know my tits taste great, but- ah!” Teeth dug into soft pink flesh and Ilaria’s spine jerked her off the bed. She forgot the rest of what she had been about to say. She could only assume that was Mercy’s intention.

The commander withdrew, first on all fours over Ilaria’s torso to peck a quick kiss to her smirking mouth, then to stand over her and begin stripping. Ilaria whistled, and Mercy shook her head, long pony-tail bouncing, punctuating her amusement.

Commanders wore a military alliance uniform: button up shirt or a t-shirt tucked into belted combat trousers. She pulled the t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside, followed by a sports-bra and her belt. She allowed her trousers to fall open as soon as she dropped the zipper and pushed down her briefs underneath.

A shaft with a round head bounced out, half-hard. Ilaria’s body stiffened, her oh-so-predictable commander had actually managed to surprise her.

“Oh, you have a, um, that’s cool- I wasn’t expecting that, but it’s no issue.” Ilaria gestured awkwardly with her shoulder in the direction of the cock staring her in the face.

“I have a what?”

“One of… those.”

“Genitals?”

Ilaria stared at her for a few moments, unsure if this was a genuine language barrier issue or if her commander was making fun of her.

“You know how humans have… belly buttons?”

Mercy rocked back a little, tilting her head. “I must admit I am concerned as to what this has to do with sexual intercourse, do the umbilical holes play a role in-”

“No! No, I am using it as an analogy. Some people have belly buttons that stick out, some people have belly buttons that point inwards. We call them outies and innies.”

“Yes, there are two types of belly buttons, I understand.”

“So, that.” Ilaria pointed at Mercy’s penis. “Is an outie.”

Mercy’s face looked like it was about to curl in on itself in confusion.

“And what I have… is an innie.”

“I have… an innie as well as an outie, Ilaria”

For a moment, Ilaria wondered if Mercy was referring to her butthole as an ‘innie’. But then the tall woman leant back even further and lifted her erection just a little more to show a slit underneath, housing pink lips.

“You have both? Cool.”

“You do not?”

“Uh, no. Only some humans have both.”

Mercy looked her over expectantly before taking the bunched-up jumpsuit at the elbows and yanking it the rest of the way off her body.

With her arms free, Ilaria lifted herself onto her elbows and raised a brow cheekily at Mercy. The commander shook her head and ripped off Ilaria’s panties. There was a pause as she looked upon the most private part of Ilaria’s body.

“It seems you really do… only have half.”

Mercy pressed her legs open with a light touch to the inside of her thighs. This was starting to feel less like a hook-up and more like a gynae appointment.

The tap of a curious finger on her clit sent a jolt through her legs.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Ilaria laughed awkwardly.

“You do have both,” Mercy announced. “Doesn’t this get bigger?”

“It doesn’t grow into a penis if that’s what you’re suggesting. It just… plumps up a little.”

“Very strange.”

“This really isn’t how I was expecting this to go.”

“Having expectations implies you have been hoping for this outcome.” Mercy’s eyes turned teasing, a sharp tooth poking out of her smirk. “Is this what you think about while you do sloppy work on the charts?”

“My attitude may be sloppy, but my work is not. Maybe if you pulled your head out of you’re a-”

Mercy flipped her easily with one hand fitting almost completely round her thigh. Once she was face-down and flat on the bed, another hand pressed into the back of her skull, filling her mouth with blanket.

“This is not going to work if I have to listen to you.”

A finger slammed into her, and her cunt immediately betrayed her with a wet sound as she was filled. Ilaria could feel Mercy’s satisfied grin burning into her naked back.