“You’re insane,” Captain Dex’s voice came through her headphones. He sounded like he was grinning.
“I’m fantastic, is what I am, my dear Captain,” Aja replied. The rush of battle was upon her. “You keeping up?”
“Barely. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be behind you.”
She flew around the wreck of the fighter she’d downed and curved towards her next target. She was going fast and everything around her was a blur of light and movement. Her mind tracked and logged it with infallible accuracy. This was her kingdom, her playground. This is where Aja Anderson shone.
The fighter ahead of her had seen the sudden destruction of his comrade and was turning his ship about to come for her. She raced towards him and anticipating his point of fire she used her abilities to mould the very laws of physics to her will and jumped her ship up several metres. The enemy’s gunfire streamed in harmless dashes of light far beneath her hull. She angled her nose down, took one shot and blew him to smithereens.
“What the hell did you just do?!” The Captain’s voice was incredulous.
“Just making sure you’ve got a good view back there,” Aja replied, grinning. “If you’re gonna be staring at my ass the whole time it’s only polite that I shake it for you. Look out -”
Something in her brain ticked and she knew there was an enemy ship coming up behind the Captain, who had been too dumbfounded by her antics to realise. She was used to this reaction. She killed the starboard engine, the ship spun and she fired it back up, whooshing over the top of the Captain’s ship and cutting down the pursuing fighter.
“Sorry,” Dex’s voice crackled in her ears. “I’m an idiot. I’ve put soldiers on kitchen duty for less. I’ll pay attention.”
“My fault,” Aja replied. “I should have warned you. Hey, I have an idea.”
She brought her ship up alongside the Captain’s, their wing-tips almost touching. “Tell me, Captain Dex - do you prefer to be on top or underneath?”
“... What?”
“No problem - I’ll decide!”
Aja cornered her ship along the axis of their wings until the dome of her cockpit was touching the Captain’s cockpit below. She saluted him through the transparent hood and wished she could see his expression behind the helmet.
“Tell me this isn’t dangerous!” he gasped through her comm.
“I am in complete control,” Aja replied. “Now let’s do some damage!”
The next few short minutes of battle were spent taking out any enemy ships that managed to sneak up on their squad members as they attacked. Her brash feats of piloting brought many a gasped expletive from both the Captain and the rest of the squad, but she kept them all safe despite the reckless appearance of her antics. The enemy fighters were soon nothing more than fragments of scrap metal drifting lazily through space; only the huge gunship remained.
“Fly wide,” Aja called on the open channel, “and fly fast. Keep this thing busy.”
“What have you got planned?” Dex asked over the intercom.
Aja undocked her ship from his, turned to match his orientation and dropped down just in front of him.
“Your fighters don’t have enough gunpower to pierce that thing’s shields,” Aja called back. “But that mammoth can’t move fast enough to lock on to one of us. It can’t do anything; it’ll jump away.”
“So we let it go?”
“Do I strike you as the kind of girl who leaves a man - er, job - half done?” she asked.
“I er...” The Captain fumbled for words.
Aja sped ahead, leaving the Captain’s ship in a trail of ion particles. She primed the mass driver, a gun that fired actual, hard ammunition and not energy. She saw the gunship’s engines preparing to jump and in that fraction of a second, when its shields were down, she fired.
The shimmering energy field of the hyperdrive collapsed in on itself as her cannon hit, collapsing the gunship with it, and then exploded in a brief burst of orange flame that vanished as soon as the ship’s inner atmosphere was consumed.
Aja flicked the general channel on and heard whooping and hollering from her teammates. She flicked it off, leaving only the Captain’s channel open.
“Send your boys home,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“You’re amazing,” Captain Dex replied.
She flew back to his position and pulled her ship level with his. They looked at each other through the cockpits.
“Just doing what I do.” Aja shrugged for him to see.
He shook his head in disbelief.
They flew in silence for a few moments, their ships languidly cruising through the debris field, side by side.
Aja bit her lip and looked over at him, several metres away. There was something exciting about him being fully suited up, not being able to see his face. Something... alluring.
“Are you horny?” she asked suddenly.
“What?!” he coughed back, his helmet turning towards her briefly.
“Doing this... flying a fighting mission, pushing ourselves and our ships to the extent of their capabilities just to get that edge on the enemy, the excitement, the buzz... flying, fighting, gets me hot. I figure, you’re a soldier. You know a good fight. Maybe it excites you too.”
He took a while to answer. He opened the channel and she heard several seconds of quiet static before he finally answered.
“Yeah.”
Aja smiled widely beneath her visor. She was contemplating her next play when his voice buzzed over the headphones again.
“Planet-side?” came his simple question.
“Captain Dex, are you asking me to accompany you alone to the surface of the planet?” she asked, a tremble of anticipation in her voice.
“I think I am,” he replied uncertainly.
Aja docked her ship on top of his again. “Better get us down there quick before you change your mind!”
***
They broke apart as they neared the surface of Hyo; a place of lush and gigantic vegetation; there were huge curling fronds of fern-like plants that towered like houses, gigantic mushroom-shaped pods that cast wide shadows on the ground beneath them. She guided them down, Captain Dex’s ship behind her, to land in the shade of one of these mushrooms.
She was first to climb out, throwing her helmet back onto the seat and letting her burgundy hair flow down over her shoulders. He was more hesitant, pulling his helmet off and looking around before slowly extracting himself from the ship and taking his time jumping to the ground.
“Stalling, Captain Dex?” She pulled at the fingertips of her gloves until they came free and threw them to the ground.
He bit his lip as the intercom on his arm buzzed.
“Captain? We didn’t see you behind us when we docked - everything alright?”
He looked across at her. She tugged at the clasps of her chestpiece, unfastening them one by one until it hung open at the front and revealed her naked skin beneath.
“Had a problem with my rudder. We’re taking a look at it. Be back in no time.”
He flicked the device off and stepped towards her. “I don’t... usually do this kind of thing.”
“Neither do I,” Aja replied honestly. “But for you... I have to make an exception. You are a wonderfully alluring man, Captain Dex.” She took a step closer to him, played her fingers over the pauldron at his shoulder and along the back of his neck. “But you should let yourself have some fun now and then. I can help with that.”
She touched his mind with hers, found that spark of erotic yearning that she’d seeded in him earlier that day, and pulled it forwards. His hands came up, hovered before her indecisively and she sealed the act by pressing her naked breasts into his gloves. He let out a gentle sigh, his eyes closed as she pressed her fingers over his and made him k
nead her breasts. Aja leaned up to his ear, moved closer until the tip of her nose grazed his earlobe, and whispered, “Let go.”
Dex pulled the gloves from his hands in two swift movements, dropped them, and took her in his strong arms. She pressed her voluptuous lips to his and he kissed her hard, the desire from the morning’s foreplay urging him on. Aja cupped her hands around his neck, kissing him deeply and vigorously. Their tongues danced in passionate circles around their mouths, their teeth nibbled at lips, his bare hands caressed her delicate skin.
He pushed her back against the hull of his ship, his moulded armour hard against her. She gasped, nipping at his neck as he fondled her chest, his warm fingers playing over the eager buds of her nipples. She could feel the pent-up arousal urging itself from him, a desperation to the way he kissed her that made her think she’d be the first woman he’d taken in a long while.
They stumbled from their armour and fell to the floor together. She climbed on top of him, pressing his shoulders to the ground and kissing him hard, first on his mouth, and then trailing soft, teasing butterfly kisses down his chest to his belly button, twirling her tongue in lascivious spirals through the trail of dark hair that lead to his cock. He was hard and waiting for her, slipping easily into her mouth as his fingers clawed the soft grass beneath them. She teased him with her hands, cupped her lips around his width and danced her tongue over his tip until he squirmed and bucked like a beast possessed.
He sat up and lifted her away, lay her down on the ground in front of him with her belly on the grass and slid his hands under her hips to pull her back slightly. He was panting, and she loved the way she’d aroused this cacophony of emotions from him - this savage eagerness from the man who struggled to be the duty-bound soldier. He pressed his cock against the moistness of her slit and grabbed her thighs, pulling her back so that she enveloped him. She groaned at how good he felt, groaned louder as he pumped his groin against her ass and hardened further inside her just as her lips swelled with heat, locking them together.
He lay his head on her back and reached around, one hand cupping her breast and flicking her nipple between his fingers, the other sliding between her legs where his finger moved in practised circles around her clit. She shivered at the coupled sensation of his fondling and his cock thrusting inside her; he felt her trembling and it drove him further to the wilds of passion.
Aja pushed her hips back against him, gripped her thighs closed around his length so that she felt him grinding into her more intensely, harder, rougher. He began to groan and the reminder of the extent to which she’d broken through his shell had her moaning likewise. Her legs trembled, her arms threatened to collapse as the simple control involved in holding herself up gave way to the rushing waves of orgasm that coursed through her. She clenched around him in a catatonic grip of ecstasy and he emptied his desire into her, throbbing with each pulse that coursed through him. Their bodies spasmed, trembled, and they collapsed onto the spongy earth, panting.
“You’re insane,” the Captain whispered in her ear, nipping at her earlobe as he lay with his chest against her back. From her vantage point, she had a good view of their pieces of armour scattered across their own private battlefield.
“I’m fantastic, is what I am, my dear Captain,” Aja replied.
Also Available from House of Erotica
Guard Mounting
Justine Elyot
He was a Queen’s Guard, one of those men you see stationed directly in front of Buckingham Palace in a tall bearskin hat and red tunic, sweltering through the summer until Her Majesty does him the favour of schlepping off to Balmoral for August, enabling him to abandon his sentry box.
He wasn’t wearing his uniform when we met, by way of a jogging accident, in St James’s Park. Helping me up off my bruised bottom with a strong outstretched arm, he apologised for not looking where he was going and offered to make reparation with coffee. I accepted the offer - I am always open to offers from tall, fit men, incidentally - and over two mugs of caffeinated goodness we fell to discussing our careers.
“You’re one of those guys outside the Palace who isn’t allowed to react to anything?” I exclaimed, enraptured. “No wonder you didn’t see me coming. Years of ignoring anything external to your main focus.”
He laughed. “That could be it, actually. I sometimes forget I have peripheral vision.”
He might do, but I certainly didn’t. My vision, both the line of sight and peripheral varieties, feasted on this wide, handsome slab of man, picturing him in the gold buttons and badges, only his lower face visible under the huge fluffy pompadour of a helmet.
“Have you ever cracked?” I asked him. “You know. People must constantly be trying to make you smile or laugh or shout at them. Have you ever given in to the temptation?”
“I’ve come pretty close a couple of times,” he admitted. “The jokes and funny faces are usually quite lame, but sometimes you get something completely random that catches you off guard. Like a guy who pulled a lizard out of his trouser pocket. And the first time a girl flashed her boobs at me, though that’s getting old now.”
“Girls flashing you outside the Palace! Whatever would the Queen say to that?”
“I know, shocking isn’t it?” He grinned. “I’ve learned to glaze over the minute a girl’s hand makes that telltale move to grab at her top. I get a lot of notes tucked into my belt too.”
“Notes?”
“Yeah. Phone numbers, promises to show me a good time, all that kind of thing.”
“Good grief, that’s shameless!” My lips curled into a smirk, eyeing him sideways. “Not that I can blame them.”
He mirrored my flirtatious body language, leaning over towards me, raising his eyebrows in seductive query. “Really?”
I held his eyes somehow, though I was starting to feel hot and cold all over, wondering if he could hear the noisy hammering of my heart.
“Who can resist a man in uniform?” I said lightly, trying to keep the salivation out of my voice.
“I don’t know. Can you?”
“I haven’t tried,” I told him, flicking my hair, blushing.
“Would you like to?”
“Well, I do hate to accept a theory without putting it to the test.”
“So, in the spirit of scientific enquiry then, shall we meet up at half past seven this evening in front of St James’s Park tube? Is that local for you?”
“Only for work. I live over the river. But it’s fine. I can get there for half seven. No problems.”
“That’s a date then.” He stood up, slinging his zip-up hoodie over his shoulder. “But for now, I’d better get back to the barracks before I’m late for parade. See you later. Oh, my name’s Greg, by the way.”
“Annie,” I replied, watching him jog off around the lake, legs and arms powering him forward so that my front row view of his tight backside was soon a distant blur.
I was early to our rendezvous that evening, so I went for a quick stroll around the park, unwilling to be caught waiting for him. By the time I crossed over from Queen Anne’s Gate to Petty France, I could see his substantial outline against the greying Portland stone wall and my pulse began to speed up just as my legs slowed.
He smiled broadly and held out a hand.
“I’m so glad you came. Thought you might have bottled it.”
“Me? Give up the chance for some scientific study? No way, Jose.”
“It’s Greg.”
I elbowed him in the ribs - how firm and unyielding they felt!
“Yeah, yeah. So...” I couldn’t fail to notice the large package he held underneath his other arm. “What’s that then?”
“My uniform.” He was dressed in civvies, an open-necked shirt and smartish trousers ending in shiny, shiny shoes. “I can’t wear it off-duty. I’m not even supposed to take it o
ut of the barracks, but I made an exception for you. After all, if we’re going to test your resistance to a man in uniform, I need to be actually wearing it. But not in public.”
I burst into laughter, surprised at how literally he was taking this detail.
“So...where then?”
“Is your place any good?”
“It could be. I own it. I don’t share with anyone. Um...” Part of me felt I ought to be a little put out by his presumptuousness. But since his presumption happened to be correct, I couldn’t take too much offence.
“Perfect. But first I think I should buy you dinner. Experimenting on an empty stomach is never advisable.”
The meal spun and swirled past, a repast of laughter and anecdote and innuendo and possibly some footsie under the table. My Queen’s Guard knew how to entertain and how to flatter, and he also knew how to get my blood from warm to boiling over the course of two hours.
By the time the dregs of the wine were drunk and the bill paid, I was raring to hustle him onto the tube and down the Northern Line (Southbound) to my lair in Balham.
Outside the restaurant, he took hold of my arm and we fell into a tipsy kiss, tasting of Valpolicella and spices, drawing me into depths of velvety sensation I did not want to leave, ever.
But I had no choice if I wanted to get him home so, in a dreadful breach of London Underground etiquette, we snogged all the way to the station, and then again up the escalator.
Pulling him backwards through my front door, I ushered him into the living room.
“Get changed,” I directed. “Then come into the bedroom. It’s the last door on the left.”
I left him to it and rushed into my bedroom, giggling to myself at the plans I had for him - plans of which he could not yet realise the extent. I was going to do more than simply strip him of his uniform and dive on. Much more.
I stripped down to my underwear, heels and stockings and posed in front of the mirror while I waited. The running in the park was paying off. I was more toned than I had ever been, my thighs firming up nicely, and my stomach, if not flat, certainly less wobbly than I remembered. A few months ago any effort to shake my booty would end up more like shivering my jelly - but not now. Guardsman Greg was in for a treat, if I did say so myself.
Uniform Behaviour Page 8
