People tend to think I’m an introvert, but that’s not the case at all. What I am, from the uninitiated’s perspective, is an observer. I pay for passage on board the Firefly out of intrigue rather than necessity. I’ve heard all about Mal Reynolds, the wanted villain and I don’t believe a word of it. What I want is to find out the real truth behind the closed hatches of Serenity.
I’m neither a reporter for Cortex Newslink, nor am I an Operative, although I have been offered the job of Mata Hari for the Alliance. I turned it down. I’m not interested in sexual espionage, I’m only interested in sex.
I know about the so called Companion on board ship and am faintly impressed by the way she pulls the wool over everyone’s eyes… including her clients. I’ve no doubt Inara Sera is good at her job, but qualified she isn’t. I know this because I was the one to sack her from the Guild. Luckily she has no idea who I am.
The first time I get to see the whole crew interact together is during the evening meal and it’s an interesting occasion. Mal Reynolds is talkative, quite pushy in fact, and he loves to emphasise the fact that he’s captain. He makes a point of aggressively flirting with Inara and yet it seems a little awkward to me. Something’s not quite right. I can’t put my finger on it, but I will eventually. I’ve only paid for short passage to a neighbouring colony, however, if necessary, I will extend my voyage.
The shepherd is the only person I have no trouble understanding, probably because, rather like me, he’s an outcast and a refugee. A one time Operative of the Alliance, he’s managed to find a way to cut ties with his former life and I envy him greatly for this. I still get called back into service at times. You have no need to know why.
I’m drawn to the hired gun. He’s a rather obnoxious man, but owner of a beautiful body. I’d love to paint him; he’s so very raw and wild. His eyes are constantly raking over the young female mechanic, a thing that rather surprises me. Usually such masculine men have sly tendencies. I’d have paired him with the doctor, but perhaps that’s merely aesthetics talking.
The mechanic and the doctor are obviously together. They can’t take their eyes off each other and my body reacts to the sexuality oozing out of them; truthfully I find it rather difficult just sitting nearby. The doctor’s sister, a government reader, knows exactly what I’m thinking and she smiles. I smile back. She knows what I am.
With difficulty I focus my attention on the pilot and the first mate. They’re also a couple, but the longevity of their relationship makes it easier to analyse. Their thoughts are fixated on love rather than sex and they plan for their future constantly. I find them very relaxing.
After the meal I retire to my quarters in the passenger dorm and doze a little, but my sleep cycle is not in sync with Serenity’s. Reading through Cortex bulletins and waves takes up an hour or two, but even after that I’m still restless. Another hour passes and I give up on the idea of sleep and decide to investigate the ship further.
I feel the mechanic and the doctor making love before I hear them. They twine together in the girl’s narrow bunk, sighing and groaning, bodies so in tune that I feel as if I’m intruding and move quickly away from the crew deck.
The cockpit is close by and it’s in this direction that I’m drawn. What I discover should be a surprise, but it isn’t. The captain is here with his mercenary and instead of being engaged on battle plans they’re pent up with sex. The atmosphere is full of it: scents, sounds, sights. I can’t get enough of them and quickly find myself slipping my hand inside my loose cotton pants, teasing myself until I’m close to coming.
They’re beautiful together even though they have no idea of it. I want them both avidly and find myself imagining what it would be like to ride those elaborately male bodies.
The mercenary slips to his knees, taking the captain into his mouth and he enjoys the act so much that I can feel every ounce of his passion, actually able to taste Reynolds’ flavour. Slipping my hand lower I rub and tease my aroused parts, busy watching the way the two men engage. I wish I could explain to them the extent of the emotion I feel. It’s such a waste.
As Reynolds comes close to emission he withdraws… as does my hand. I want to come with them not before. Sensing what’s about to happen next I shiver excitedly and run my fingers over both nipples, feeling them peak and enjoying the sensation that travels down my body. I’m not certain who is going to mount whom and the confusion arouses me still further. I have the feeling that they’re never sure who will top until they get close to intercourse.
They prowl around each other like animals and then with a sudden movement the mercenary makes his strike, pulling the captain down and penetrating him with slick fingers. It’s a winning position and, to be honest, is the one I wish to see, although I’d have preferred for them to fight a little longer. Still, no one can deny it’s a beautiful sight to see the soldier mounting his captain.
As they fuck I tease myself toward orgasm, not subtle in my movement or my sounds. I’d like them to know how much I delight in their coupling and I come the moment the captain releases his spunk onto the floor, the mercenary joining us a moment later with a gruff shout of approval.
I enjoy their sex. I understand it. I’ve seen all I need to see.
DONE