For a brief moment, the sounds of the party downstairs came in; music and laughter ... then the door was closed again. Footsteps came slowly across th... room towards me.I did not even turn out from the window. I kept standing there, staring out into the night at the yard.“Do you want it now?”I asked, feeling him close to me.“It's not your loving Victor.” A deep unknown voice whispered into my ear.“What?”I began to open my mouth, but he was already behind me, his strong hands on my round hips and. I was the one in charge of the pots, scraping congealed grease off the heavy cast-iron griddles and frying pans, and cleaning the remains of cement-hard mashed potatoes out of dented aluminum cauldrons. Marnie did the plates and silverware in a chipped ceramic sink the size of a washtub. The ancient electric dishwasher sometimes lent a hand -- on the infrequent occasions when it was working.Marnie was probably still in her early thirties, but she looked older. Much older. Her hair was starting. He balled his hands into fists and put them to the shower’s glass door, slowly resting his head against the pane. His cock was retreating gradually into its sheath, flaccid and misleading. Hung and dormant, as if, in minutes, it wouldn’t be raging again. As if he wouldn’t be raging again.He couldn’t tutor her. What part of him rationalized the thought into a probable reality? Having that female here, in his territory. Where he ate, pissed and slept. Where society did not impose on his. Pete went first, the barrel of his rifle passing through the force field that held the atmosphere inside the bay, followed by his armored suit as he set foot on level ground. His stomach lurched as he entered the freighter’s AG field, good, that meant that there was still power to the ship despite the damage to the aft section. His suit HUD blinked a green light to indicate that the atmosphere was breathable and that the pressure was Earth norm, so he flipped up his faceplate as the rest of the.