"Captain on the bridge," she stated to the crew."Thank you T'Met. Status report." We were in pursuit of the Klingon's sir when we were headed off by t...eir armada. I calculate a 64% chance we make it out of this in one piece." Damn. They've got us outnumbered." he swiveled after sitting in the command chair. Leaning towards Tarsi. "Evasive maneuvers." He turned and looked at Science station. "T'Met, how many of them are there?" Roughly 26 Captain. The Klingon's appear to have a cloaking. "Here, let me fill your mug," she had offered, brushing against him provocatively. "Are you really from Pordigran?" Not me," Bartan had laughed. "I'm from Ashimoll. It's a much nicer place to live." Better than Pordigran?" Frittis had widened her eyes expressively. "But surely you've been there." A couple of times." He'd yawned and stretched his big body, flexing his muscles to good advantage. "Oh, it's nice to visit all right, but there's too many people there to suit me." But, isn't that. I pause, tensed, then pushed into Ria until my pubic hair scuffed her pussy. Her smile bloomed rapidly, “Uhh, oh, ahh,” she uttered. She pulled her legs up, knees bent out, then looked between us to watch me fuck her. Salli was more hesitant than her best friend. While following Joe and watching his tight ass, she began to have doubts. Could she do this, have sex? He led her to his bedroom then without words, invited her to stand in front of a full-length mirror. Salli saw she stood just. What a great joy to behold and what an incredible feast. There were blond German rolls, the finest black pumpernickel, fat pretzels, buttered of course, together with those sloppy white Bavarian sausages of such yucky consistency and such marvellously delicate taste, sweet mustard and radishes too; wonderful pastrami and pickles from his Jewish mate; fresh salted butter from Ireland; French cheeses; almost black salamis from Croatia and Hungary made of donkey ham and wild boar; Danish roll.