Chapter 2: The Unggoy's Throne of Tongues
The steam had thickened in the minutes since Vessa walked through the door, curling in lazy spirals around the three of them like it was trying to hide what was about to happen. It didn't work. Nothing could hide the way Gorbak looked at them—that steady, unflinching gaze that made Kaela feel like she was being weighed and measured and found exactly right.
He sat back down on the bench. The metal creaked under his weight, a low groan that echoed off the rusted walls. His cock stood up from his lap, thick and veined and still glistening from Kaela's mouth, and his balls rested heavy beneath it, full and round and completely on display.
Kaela moved first.
She settled onto the bench at his left, her hip pressing against his, her thigh warm against the bare skin of his leg. The contact sent a jolt through her—something electric, something that made her breath catch in her throat. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, felt the pulse of him against her palm, the heat that radiated from his skin.
Vessa took the right side.
She moved with that same deliberate grace, lowering herself onto the bench with the kind of control that came from years of discipline. Her shoulder brushed against Gorbak's, and Kaela watched the way his breath hitched, the way his eyes flickered between them like he couldn't quite believe this was happening.
"You're sure about this," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Stop asking," Vessa replied.
Kaela laughed—a low, rough sound—and leaned in. She pressed her lips to the side of his shaft, just below the head, and dragged them slowly down the length of him. The skin was hot and smooth, stretched tight over a hardness that seemed almost impossible. She could taste herself on him, the faint salt of her own saliva, and beneath that something else—something sharper, stranger.
Vessa watched for a moment. Then she leaned in too.
Her mouth met his cock from the other side, her lips brushing against the same thick vein Kaela had just traced with her tongue. For a moment, they were mirror images—two women bent over the same man, their breath mingling in the humid air, their mouths moving in tandem along his length.
Then Vessa's tongue darted out, and the mirror shattered.
She licked a slow stripe up the underside of his shaft, and Gorbak made a sound—a deep, guttural noise that seemed to come from somewhere primal. His hand came down to rest on Vessa's shoulder, fingers digging into her skin, and Kaela felt a surge of something hot and possessive flare in her chest.
She didn't fight it.
Instead, she matched Vessa's rhythm. Her tongue traced the same path, from base to tip, and when she reached the head, she pressed a kiss to the slick, dark skin. Vessa's lips met hers there—not on purpose, not at first—but neither of them pulled away. Their mouths brushed against each other, warm and wet and tasting of him, and Kaela felt Vessa's breath stutter against her cheek.
Gorbak's cock twitched between them.
"Fuck," he breathed.
Kaela pulled back just enough to look at Vessa. Her partner's eyes were half-lidded, her pupils blown wide, and there was a flush spreading across her chest that had nothing to do with the heat of the steam. She looked—gone. Lost. Like she'd forgotten where she was and why and who she was supposed to be.
Kaela had never seen her like this.
She liked it.
"Don't stop," she said.
Vessa didn't answer. Just leaned back in, her mouth finding Gorbak's cock again, her tongue sliding along the shaft with a hunger that seemed almost desperate. Kaela joined her, their lips and tongues tangling around his girth, their breath hot against each other's skin.
Gorbak's hands moved. One stayed on Vessa's shoulder, gripping tight. The other found Kaela's hair, fingers threading through the damp strands, not pulling—just holding. Grounding himself.
His balls were heavy and warm beneath Kaela's hand. She cupped them, felt the weight of them, the way they shifted under her palm. So full. So fucking full. She wondered how many loads he had in him, how many times he could come before he was spent.
She wanted to find out.
Vessa moaned.
It was a small sound—barely audible over the hiss of the vents and the splash of water from the still-running shower—but it cut through everything else like a knife. Kaela froze. Gorbak froze. Even the steam seemed to pause, hanging suspended in the air like it was waiting to see what happened next.
Vessa's eyes were closed. Her lips were wrapped around Gorbak's cock, her head bobbing in a slow, steady rhythm, and she was moaning—soft, breathy sounds that vibrated against his shaft. Her hand had moved from his thigh to his balls, cupping them the same way Kaela was, their fingers brushing against each other in the tight space.
Kaela watched her partner come undone.
It was like watching a wall crumble. Vessa was always so controlled, so composed—even in the middle of a firefight, even when the world was ending, she never lost herself. But here, on her knees in a broken shower block, with her mouth full of alien cock and her fingers tangled with Kaela's, she was gone.
Completely. Utterly. Gone.
Kaela felt something twist in her chest. Something warm and complicated and terrifying.
She pulled back.
Gorbak's cock slipped from her mouth with a wet sound, and Vessa didn't even notice. She kept going, her lips sliding along his length, her tongue working the underside of his shaft, her moans growing louder and more frequent.
Kaela watched for a moment. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to Gorbak's balls.
The skin was rough and warm, stretched tight over the heavy weight beneath. She kissed them—first one, then the other—and then dragged her tongue along the seam between them, tasting salt and musk and something else, something that made her head spin.
Gorbak groaned. His hand tightened in her hair, and she felt the tremor that ran through his thighs.
"That's it," she murmured against his skin. "That's it."
She worked her way up slowly. Her tongue traced the underside of his cock, following the thick vein that ran from base to tip, and when she reached the head, she found Vessa's lips already there.
Their mouths met again.
This time, neither of them pulled away.
Kaela kissed her partner over the head of Gorbak's cock. She tasted him on Vessa's lips—sharp and strange and intoxicating—and she leaned into it, deepening the kiss, her tongue sliding against Vessa's in a slow, deliberate dance.
Vessa kissed her back.
For a long moment, there was nothing else. Just the two of them, mouths tangled together, breath shared between them, the taste of Gorbak's cock still heavy on their tongues. The steam curled around them, hot and thick, and the red lights pulsed overhead, and somewhere in the distance, an alarm was probably ringing.
Kaela didn't care.
She reached up and cupped Vessa's face with one hand, felt the warmth of her skin, the slight tremble in her jaw. Vessa's eyes were still closed, but there were tears at the corners—not sad tears, not really. Just—release. Years of control, years of composure, all of it crumbling in a single moment.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard.
Gorbak was staring at them. His cock was still hard, still thick and veined and standing straight up from his lap, and his balls were still full and heavy beneath it. But his expression had changed. The hunger was still there, but there was something else too—something softer, something almost reverent.
"You two," he said, and his voice was rough, barely a whisper. "You two are—"
"Finish that sentence," Kaela said, "and I'll break your other leg."
Vessa laughed.
It was a real laugh—not the dry, quiet sound she usually made, but something full and warm and completely unexpected. It echoed off the rusted walls and mingled with the hiss of the vents, and for a moment, the shower block felt less like a tomb and more like a sanctuary.
The laugh hung in the air between them, bright and reckless, and Kaela watched something shift behind Gorbak's eyes. His grip on her hair loosened. His jaw worked, like he was chewing on words he couldn't quite spit out.
Then he said them anyway.
"Whores," he finished. "You two are such whores."