It is Not a Love Story (male on futa, sci-fi, multi-chapter)

Story by Kuroshio

It is Not a Love Story

male on futa, sci-fi, interracial, masturbation, frottage, oral, anal, moderate bdsm, impregnation (I will update the list of applicable tags as the story progresses.)

Please leave comments -- like it, love it, hate it or indifferent -- I welcome any feedback.

Everything was indistinct, my eyes seeing nothing but endless haze, feeling like I was wrapped in the softest cotton imaginable and hearing nothing but the sound of waves breaking over a beach. I couldn’t even taste anything readily describable, just a slightly salty… sensation, for want of a suitable word. I was swirling around this indecipherable mass of sensory deprivation for a time that was equally inarticulate, parts of my mind felt like they’d spent years trapped in the maze, others passed through in a blink of an eye, but they were unconnected, as if part of a jigsaw puzzle fresh out of the box.

Gradually, enough pieces came together that I could string together simple thoughts, the foremost of which was the most obvious: where was I? It was then my brain chose that moment to unscramble itself and I found myself in the present. Obnoxiously bright orange letters danced across the glass near my face, indicating a malfunction of some sort. A quick check of the warning panel showed it was a door jam, a common enough fault and almost never fatal, but annoying because you’d need the crew to crack you out. I sighed, knowing we’d probably be stuck for hours before they got around to doing that.

Good lord my head hurt, my body hurt, I was so dehydrated my tongue was practically welded to the roof of my mouth, I was freezing cold and now that my hearing was returning I could hear the shriek of the alarm. I was in a cryogenic storage unit – colloquially called a “coffin” due to both the shape and the mortality rates when using the first models – on a colonial transport ship. “It’s not a passenger ship,” I remember the crew telling us, “because bodies in the freezer aren’t people. They’re cargo.” Charming bunch of guys. Especially the medico who’d stuck me with what looked like a twelve gauge hypodermic needle with the same expression I’m sure he had when he was setting ants on fire or pulling the wings off butterflies.

I rolled up onto my side and looked over the other side of coffin to, taking a good look at my partner: Cadence Washington, skin the color of molten chocolate, a large forehead (more like a fivehead to be honest), a modest afro that did nothing to distract from the former, large and dark brown eyes that gave the impression of being bottomless pools when you looked directly into them, a gap-toothed smile that I found quaint and a slightly overweight build, but wonderfully curvy to compensate: breasts like pillows and wide hips, with just a bit of a tummy to give the impression of overwhelming ripeness.

She looked exquisite to me.

But she was still in transit sleep and I didn’t want to force her awake – the drugs involved would mean a seriously hardcore headache if I managed – so I figured I’d take the opportunity to entertain myself. I rolled astride her sleeping form with my knees on either side of hips and fished my cock out, spitting on my hand then stroking myself a bit before I took her top and yanked it up over her tits. They really were nice; big and round and pancaked against her chest with barely there areolas capped off by fat dark brown nipples that just begged to be played with.

I gripped my dick tight and jerked slowly at first, looking at her tits as they rose and fell with every breath she took. I occasionally stopped to dribble spit on it for lube, then resumed pumping my hand up and down, letting my other hand play with my balls, my breathing ragged as I build up the intensity. It probably would’ve taken me a good long while to finish myself off if she didn’t wake up a few minutes into the proceedings, blinking hard and yawning before she realized exactly what I was doing.

For a few awkward seconds she stared right at me and I stared right back, still masturbating over her. Her big brown eyes wavered first which broke the spell over both of us and she looked away, giving a small shrug and closing her eyes before pulling her own girlcock out. Her dick was just as nice as her tits: the color of a starless sky, with a deep purple head, it was long and thick and smooth and outright juicy looking. At least according to me. I loved watching her jack off and she was more than happy to oblige my tastes, even now. Slapping her flaccid member against mine a few times, she looked back up at me after spitting on her shaft, then started moving her hand up and down slowly, alternatively groping her tits with her free hand, squeezing and caressing them as she soundlessly beat off right under me.

Our knuckles occasionally collided as we both masturbated in the shall

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