She took me into her bedroom and jumped into the shower. When she returned to the room, she wore only an oversized white t-shirt. I was sitting on the...couch, naked. My stiff cock stood straight up and pointed at the ceiling, alert. She jumped onto the bed and straddled me. At thirty-seven, she had slept with her fair share of men, and she knew exactly what she wanted. Their tongues intertwined and I took off her t-shirt. Now, we both were bare fleshed, sweating, dry humping on a still-made bed.. The remaining eight breakfast guests were going to be 'important officials.'Why breakfast? Brunch, really—we humans like to sleep in. Silvia had bragged about Omelet Day on board the Futile Gesture. Once per week I would prepare omelets for the entire crew—not a burden because a Futility-class Intruder averages about a dozen people in its crew. For long range penetration missions such as the Futile Gesture's last the crew size is limited in order to increase duration—when supplies run out, it's. More

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