I was panting now. Panting hard. I struggled to open the zipper in my combat uniform. It was stuck. Would it all end here? Satisfaction - both physical and mental - was so close, just behind the cockpit, calling and taunting me? I cried. The zipper was still stuck. Slowly I realized, that I shouldn't fight this, but rather... enjoy the experience. The excruciating pain in my crotch told me that I was functioning correctly, that my instincts which I had suppresed during the dull training simulations were right and true. "Ejection seat", it read on a panel. Amidst all the lust I realized the irony - just one letter changed and my current physical state would be illustrated there. I was desperate, I licked the shield generator's access panel. And for a second, the plane hummed at me. I closed my eyes and the thought of me and it, man and beast, alpha and omega, rocking back and forth in the cold void of space, eternally together, bound be flesh and metal - yes, that thought, naughty for some, sexual for me, the thought made me stronger. I grabbed my uniform and tore it off. People were watching. I kept the underwear on and rubbed the Helios bomb now, I didn't want to hide anything. Everyone could see that I mean bussiness. Everyone knew that I wanted the act of love, to sweat and push and pull and in and out and EJECT
HIT YOUR BURNERS
DIVE
and then
