She had meant to really go in for a kiss, the good kind that used to make her ache when she had ever done it with a woman. The kind that was patented to make them fall into her arms. Maybe it was some remaining barrier in her mind, but Janis ended up softly pecking him on his admittedly, well-shaped lips. The understanding that this was Johnny, a man in her memories who was ten years her junior and who was—still—her subordinate, felt like a thought that was always there in the back of her mind.

As she withdrew, John's eyes were closed, plain expectation on his face. Janis only had a moment to feel displeased at her bad first effort when she felt his arm come up, clutch at her back. She was too surprised to react, ended up being pulled to him. Wordlessly, the man brought their lips together, began kissing her. There was no time for her to think about what this meant in the moment, or even to react to the fact that this was the first kiss she had ever had with a man. And, what a kiss .

At first they only kissed with their lips mostly closed, but lingering deliciously close to opened. Then it was John whose lips parted and tongue slipped against her own. Immediately, Janis' mouth was flooded with the sweet taste of his tongue, and it sent shockwaves through her body. Only moments before she believed that she was about to disengage and go from wherever this had brought them emotionally. But the taste of John in her mouth had her whimpering softly like she never had for anybody before, reaching around to grab onto the back of his head.

He shuddered, pulling away just enough to force their lips apart. The back of his head felt soft, feathery, with his short, slightly thick hair between her fingers. It was like Janis was holding onto some amazing but strange specimen. He felt warm, utterly mammal. Somehow—as familiar to her as her own body now felt.

John's voice was almost a whisper, rough with both the natural husk of his voice as well as breathlessness. "Been waiting over thirty years for that."

As Janis looked at him in a near-daze, she saw that his gaze was stuck on her mouth. The weight of his eyes on her mouth had her instinctively sucking her lips in, the sensation on them almost too much to bear. Slowly, he rose his eyes to hers and before, his eyes had been a warm brown. Now they looked almost like their brightness could be attributed to a fire originating in the dark depths of his overblown pupils. His lips twitched, caught somewhere on the way to a grin. "Clearly, it was worth every second."

At first she wanted took half tease him, growing rapidly horny as she was, that he couldn't make that assessment quite yet.

Where was Janis' restraint, her belief that she could stop after a kiss to confirm what he felt for her—to tell her in a way that was beyond the obvious barriers the man had erected over his heart, what it is he truly felt for her?

If his longing for her as a mentor had done something to his head, made him think he wanted her when in reality he never would want to be with someone like her.

The protectiveness she had for him was nowhere, maybe, because when John came back, feeling like an eternity as he crossed the space between their lips, Janis did nothing to extricate herself. Instead, she leaned forward, all sense of this being for his own good, forgotten, in a wave of enlivening desire.

They kissed, softly and with an underlying passion that neither had to vocalize or ever hope to fake. It was like combustion between them, or lightning. When their lips parted, it was Janis' turn to push her tongue into John's mouth, the invasive move welcomed by the man with a guttural groan.

It felt natural, headier and more exhilarating than any kiss she'd ever had before.

He tasted male , Janis discovered. She never would have thought that such a thing would have a "taste". And she was completely enslaved to the sensation, whatever it was that was coursing through her blood. A feeling she hadn't experienced in a very long time. But for that golden moment when she first deeply tongue-kissed the man she had never envisioned loving the taste of, Janis simply enjoyed the experience. Immersing herself in a full-body phenomena that finally woke her libido from where the long-depressed woman had forgotten it.

John's hands started to slide down her back, and she moved into his hands without thought. Then he let go, again disengaging their kiss.

Barely suppressing a cry, Janis looked at the man she had forgotten about ever having had a thought of that didn't include sitting on him and making damn fucking sure he couldn't stop kissing her if he wanted to. John looked at her, breathless as he tried to regain some air in his lungs, his scarred, beard-stubbled face shockingly pink and bordering on red. His breath came and went out of him, his white-vested chest heaving, gently touching her over sensitized chest with each gasp he made.

He finally said, with his voice dangerously close to cracking, "We can't go any further, not unless you consent to where this is headed." He looked at her and Janis almost saw the desperate weakness in his eyes. "You... you are wanting to go back to my bed with me, aren't you?"

She didn't blame him. In his eyes, "hard to get" didn't even come close to describing her behavior. If not for how out of breath, emotional he looked, John may as well as been asking her to confirm something dealing with the day to day operations in the base.

I'm about to fuck Johnny. Aren't I? For all Janis could recall, the only reason she had come in here was to hopefully thoroughly fuck the most delicious tasting man she could have ever dreamed of.

She nodded, this time being the one who brought their lips together for a deep, heady kiss. Sometimes their tongues didn't even successfully find the other's mouth and they tasted plenty of the other's lips, chin, and cheeks. Their legs were moving, awkward and uncoordinated, due to the fact that their shared clutching became the only things keeping the two up as they merged and aggressively slid their bodies against each other.

Good fucking god , did she always get so turned on with kissing?

She was greedy with lust, eventually dragging her overeager partner to his aforementioned bed through heavy concentration, panting for air as she pulled her mouth away from his. She sat on the edge, delirious with the fresh height difference it afforded them. As they pulled apart from yet another unbroken, long, passionate kiss, Janis started to pull her shoes off—aware of where this was all going—then she looked up, saw that John was smiling. No, not smiling , he was grinning. Any question that this was somehow an innocent mistake evaporated as she saw the open desire in his eyes. The expression on his face that looked more fitting on someone who had just been released from a decades' long stint in prison.

He didn't look at all like the young man he once had been that she had been so afraid that she was destroying the happiness of.

Janis almost lost her breath, her lips falling open. How had she ever misjudged this situation? It went beyond simple lust. This felt like someone's long-held, aching fantasy was coming true. The scary thing to her should have been that she wasn't sure whose it was.

"Come here," she almost whimpered, beckoning to him with her hands opened.

John rushed her, hands on her legs as he brought her body close to his as he angled over her, dropping her back on the bed. She wrapped her long legs around his back, drawing her ankles close together as though she meant to trap him. Janis waited for him to start kissing her when he surprised her, dragging a thumb across her heavy lips. The feel, of his calloused fingertip against her over sensitized lips, had her wanting to cry out in frustration in a strange, painful ecstasy.

Hadn't she always, it felt like, fantasized about some strong man treating her like this?

Her own hands found the front of his Unitarian uniform, yanked up. John pulled back, allowing her to remove his clothing, heard the tell tale clink of something metal as it hit the ground, the sound softened by the clothes. The reappearance of his naked torso, the one she had been seeing in her mind wherever she closed her eyes since earlier in the day, had Janis leaning as close as she could, dragging her hands down his strong chest. Looking back up at John's face, she realized he was staring at her, a look of disbelief replacing his earlier effusive happiness.

Before she could ask him what was wrong, he licked his own softly swollen lips, his exhalation bathing Janis in the mist of his breath. "Tell me what you want, Commander."

Janis felt something squirm inside of her at that unexpected term, perhaps awakening a longing she never knew she had. At least, not one she had ever imagined also having with a man.

He continued to speak, sounded like he was on the verge of babbling. "Just tell me what you want from me. I want to give you it. Want to give you anything—anything you want." As though emphasizing his words, John, whether purposeful or instinctually, thrust his hips forward to knock him against the open cradle of her thighs.

So— beautiful —her oldest, most treasured companion's body, face, was. Whoever said that a man was hottest pinning someone down like a dog was a moron. Being teased like this and promised as much or as little as she wanted by someone so masculine and so consumed by her, Janis just didn't know if she could ever come down from this experience.

She could hear herself tell John, "I want you to fuck me."

Something flickered in his eyes, something warm like humor. He said, "Think I can handle that rigorous task, Janie."

Oh, good. Some part of her was worried that he would take this predicament he had walked her into and try to trade what had to be sex so delicious it would surely burn anything resembling sexual need out of her, for an agreement to take the position of Commander. Janis from over twenty years ago would faint in shock to feel how now her body felt like it was threatening to combust, that she would agree to anything just to see what John Bradford looked like without any clothes on.

He knocked against her with his hips again, and this time Janis realized she could feel something in his pants that definitely wasn't his leg. Or, at least, not the kind he could walk on.

Bending down close to her, John asked, "Can we get your clothes off? Least your shirt. Feels vulnerable, standing here like this."

Janis bent up, taking another one of those kisses from him that made her feel whoozy and breathless. Then she stiffened up on the bed, started to slide out of her shirt. She wasn't surprised to find John's hands against her shoulders, helping her out. But once she had thrown the shirt off, left only in her bra, she realized that John had placed his hands over the cups of her bra.

"Oh, wow , Johnny," Janis said, her voice to her own ears sounding like she was somewhere between a mental breakdown and the prelude into a fit of hysterical laughter. "I can't believe we're doing this."

It seemed as though every muscle in John's body had grown taut, still. He caught her gaze with his own and in a hesitating voice, he asked, "Is that—a bad thing?"

Damn he was adorable, but she could slam his head into the ground and yank those pants off of that muscular frame of his. Instead she grabbed onto the back of his neck and drew him in close, kissing his mouth, his stubbly chin, then his neck before she pulled away to answer.

"You don't have to ask me that, John, if I'm this close to getting on my knees to beg for it."

It sounded like John was about to say something, then it got caught in a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh. Somehow it almost sounded relieved. Still, when he did speak—only after he took his turn and began to eagerly kiss, then started to lick and suck on her neck until Janis was moaning for mercy—it was to ask, almost hesitantly, "I'm not gonna... hurt you, am I?"

At first Janis wondered what the hell he was asking about. Did he think she was a virgin, at least in the sense of penetration? Was he trying to insinuate something about his size?

Then she saw it, the concern in his soft brown eyes. And it hit her, genuinely surprised her to realize what being in his embrace made her forget. As someone not born, biologically, at least, a woman, it sometimes felt like Janis barely went for very long without some reminder that she was, outwardly, finally the person she had always felt she was. Somehow in his arms, bathed in what felt like the leaden desire that bordered on pure rapture in John's eyes, Janis forgot something that sometimes felt like it haunted her every action.

She realized what John was trying to, gently, ask her. Again it was something she was not excited at the prospect of dealing with. The potential first time she was with a person in the possession of that oh so synonymous of a male aspect: a penis. But after she had just spent who knew how long kissing him, knowing that he did not see her as some weird, inhuman thing, Janis realized that it didn't have to be a horrifying, dehumanizing experience to explain that she wasn't one of the aliens they were united against, or some fragile piece of china.

In fact, asshole that she was, Janis relished in the utterly manly John hesitating out of fear of hurting her.

Biting her lower lip, Janis batted her eyes at her second in command, loving the way he turned a somehow even deeper shade of blushing red. "I don't know, daddy, you're not gonna hurt me with that billy club in your pants?"

John's eyes almost bugged out of his head. At first Janis worried that she had gone too far. That the playful, erotic teasing would make the poor man take off running with a hurriedly retracting boner.

Janis surprise was indescribable, when John took hold of her legs and forced her back on the bed, her back hitting the bedspread so fast that it took the breath out of her lungs. His hands were at her belt buckle and he was ripping her belt off as though she were a present he couldn't wait to get unwrapped. By the time he had undone the dastardly bindings of her pants, Janis was in utter disbelief at his transformation.

Her pants were torn down her legs until all she was wearing were socks, panties, and a bra. Somewhere in the back of Janis' head she lamented the fact that she had not worn a matching pair. For a second she thought that John was about to pull his own pants down and either tear her panties off or slide them down one of her legs, then fuck her with the poor thing dangling off of one of her feet like she was a porn star. But a fact she ought to have remembered about John, of all men, was that he sought to exceed expectations if he did not at least live up to them.

He did pull her panties off—grabbing onto the crotch and yanking, looking all the time like he was hyperventilating, he was breathing so hard and erratically—then in one movement the man was on his knees and he had reached, grabbing and holding onto her ankles in one hand so that he had her partially lifted up. The realization of just how exposed she was, and that her protege was staring at her, her feet trapped, was something Janis only had a brief chance to comprehend.

Before she could even assume what this supposedly chivalrous man was contemplating, John had buried his face between her thighs, letting her legs drop around him. Janis thought she gargled out some guttural, animalistic cry, but her head felt like it was so full of the sound of her own blood rushing and her rapid heart beat that she couldn't comprehend reality.

As John wildly ate her out, a finesse-less feast that left Janis thrashing on the bed, the base could have been assaulted by ADVENT and neither likely would have cared.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Janis heard someone saying, realizing only after it was said that it had been her. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohhh my goooood..." As she regained the ability to comprehend her surroundings, Janis propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at the man turning her into a horny slut.

John's head moved to an erratic rhythm, the answering sensations of which she could feel like an electrical current dancing through her. Holy shit, he was using his tongue for pleasure, but it also felt like he was trying to lap up the juice his kissing had left her bathing in. And his stubbled cheeks made for a rough contrast as she erratically closed and opened her thighs. It was going to leave her with something like rug burn between her thighs, if he kept up with it for much longer.

If there had ever been a worry that he would somehow not like what he would see, that thought had been shattered as she felt what she realized was a stroking, soft entrance with a finger into the very place John had been lavishing with his tongue. Again, Janis answered this with a gurgling, broken noise as her hands reached down, grabbed onto his hair. The sensation, of one of his fingers sliding into her, left Janis wondering what he did think of what he was feeling.

And then John answered that thought for her, as he let out a long, throaty moan and said, "How can you feel so good? "

At first all she could think of was, where did this wet dream of a man come from?, then she realized that she was going to cum. In a panic, she clutched his hair hard, hearing him make a surprised groan. As she met his eyes with her own, she said, "John, I need you to—" it was her turn to lose her train of thought. Finally she refocused, said, "I want you to fuck me."

Creativity was not Janis' strong suit, she discovered, when she wanted to see John's naked body.

His mouth hung open as he stared at her. In the shadow that the overhead light cast on him, which was blocked by the back of his head, Janis could only imagine the expression in his eyes. Then he, blessedly, stood up and undid his pants. As he pulled his pants down, Janis could see his boxer briefs, the color of which was, ridiculously, a decadent and lascivious crimson. She realized she could see something in the fabric of his boxer briefs against one of his thighs. Oh, god, she thought, he might kill me after all .

She had played with many a girl post-op, including the kind who had toys of all shapes and sizes to play with. But she still hadn't tried the kind out that was attached to a living boy. And this one looked like it might pose an interesting dilemma for her.

John waved at her, getting her attention away from his groin. When he spoke, his voice sounded husked, thick. "Hey—Jainie? Is this going to be okay, I'm going to—you know—take these off, and we can't go back." He awkwardly reach a hand behind his head, scratching at the nape of his neck.

What? There was a point of return still, even after he had face fucked her pussy?

Well, she couldn't have that .

Janis reached back, undoing the clasp of her bra in a practiced motion that thankfully left her with the hook bindings of her bra coming off without her needing to scramble to get them loose for once. As she took the bra straps off, she looked over at her near-naked partner, letting one of her eyebrows cock expectantly. "Well? I'm feeling awful exposed here. I don't want to be the only person here with that cold recycled air on my tits and cunt. Not that you have the latter," she added helpfully.

Yes, it was vulgar, but she could also tell that it was exactly what was needed to get John to slide the elastic of his underwear down his legs. As he bent down to awkwardly take the underwear off of his ankle, Janis got an eyeful of what she had felt earlier.

When he looked up at her, John's eyebrows creased as though he saw something in her expression. Then he looked embarrassed. "What—don't like something you see, or—"

Janis, almost angrily, silenced him. She stared another eyeful of him, knowing she couldn't see this older John Bradford naked for the first time ever again. Her first thought: I wish I was the first one to give head.

Impressive? Well, yes. Actually, John's cock was bigger than would have fit his frame, not grotesquely so. And he was shaped like someone had built him out of a sex toy, stiff, straight, thick . And it happened to be pointed straight at her. The rest of him was similarly well shaped, even beautiful. What right did a man his age have to be downright chiseled?

"What is it," John finally asked, fairly concerned by the abject staring Janis was doing, but apparently deaf to the cartoon wolf manner she was staring at his naked body. "something wrong?"

"Ohh, boy, oh, if this isn't right, I don't even know what values Humanity is supposed to have." She beckoned to John, happy she did look at his face, or else she would have missed that beautiful look of relief on it.

John climbed onto the bed as he arched over her, gently lifting one of her legs up, lining himself up against her with his other hand. He came close to her face, seemingly not able to resist taking another kiss, which Janis hungrily returned. The taste of herself on his mouth was an aphrodisiac, left her wishing she could lick the taste off of him. She almost forgot about the big cockhead rubbing at her.

His smell coiled around her, enclosing her as much as his body bore down, deliciously, on top of her. He smelled like himself, perhaps after ten minutes of sparring, as well as her own smell, which still clung to his mouth and chin. He wasn't ever the type of guy who used cologne or one of those strong-smelling soaps. If anything, the man seemed to smell even more decadently delicious with some sweat on his strong body.

He breathed hard, finally pulling away from their kisses until he dropped his head next to hers. Janis reached a hand around, ran her fingers down his back. Reveled in the way he let out a resounding groan, shivered.

She said, "You do know—you're gonna be the first man I'm going to have inside of me?"

John let out an audible gasp, and she felt him jerk until an achingly delicious, teasing hint of his cock slipped inside of her, only for him to pull back.

Against her ear, John said, "You never... but I thought—you were gone, like this, for years—"

Janis felt a smile on her mouth, agonized by pleasure and the promise of yet more to come. "Guess I was waiting for Mr. Right? Or, Mr. Fuck Me Hard?" When John let out a long, lush groan that Janis swore she could feel all the way down to her over-excited clit, she reached around to his back with her other hand and pushed. "I think I waited long enough to see if I can take a real stress test— "

Whatever she was about to say was choked in her throat as John pressed forward, started entering her.

Janis cried out, throwing her head back. She had never been so ready for insertion, for the feeling of aching, filling pressure. And it was with a part of John, unbelievably fuckable John .

She was relieved when he didn't ask her if he had hurt her. Although as he started to fill her more and more, Janis realized now, more than ever, that she had been built tighter and smaller than someone who had been born with the parts she had installed. And, it seemed her partner wasn't wholly oblivious to what was happening.

He was breathing as if she was literally crushing him, and if not for how he dipped and rocked inside of her, Janis could believe she was hurting him.

If Janis was afraid she was crushing his cock into a diamond, she was alleviated of any fears that she was hurting him when he let out a choked cry and groaned, "I'm going to get addicted to this!"

They clung to each other like they were afraid of slipping apart, gasping and moaning softly, occasionally breaking to kiss each other, as if to reaffirm some bond, something perhaps even sacred beyond the profane way their bodies moved together. By the time they had locked into a more or less steady rhythm, Janis could feel her grip on the situation become torn away, clutching back at him and moving in this strange dance she was sharing with John Bradford.

She reached a hand between them, rubbed herself until she felt like she was in her own lusty heaven.

Then something, as she felt the rippling relief of the pressure building, told her it was only polite to tell him that she was cumming, worried that she could do actual harm to his tool when she clenched him.

Maybe Janis had at least a little to worry about, as she felt her body thrown into sensations the likes of which she had never before experienced rock its way through her. As the waves of pleasure started to die down, she thought the well-endowed man on top of her was going to die.

As she regained enough of the ability to think, she saw that John had slammed his eyes shut and was gritting his teeth. She could feel him truly fucking her with abandon, slamming into her as far as he could go until they were conjoined, then pulling almost all of the way out to slam back in.

And then she felt his pace grow more uneven until she could feel him seem to become even harder inside of her.

With a cry, Janis said, "Cum in me, John!"