Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 7 free porn video

By some unexplainable miracle, nobody else needed to use their elevator until the 94th floor. As the car slowed, Connie and Tyler finally ended their long and passionate embrace, bashful as two middle school kids caught making out behind the bleachers. Connie spun away from Tyler and examined herself in the reflection of the rear wall, dabbing at her makeup with her fingers until the doors opened to take on the new passengers. Tyler stared straight ahead, not wanting to attempt fixing his makeup, afraid that he'd find a way to mess it up worse than Connie's tongue and nose already had. Five businessmen in pressed suits loaded onto the elevator, forcing Tyler and Connie against the rear wall to make space. The businessmen chatted with each other in yet another language Tyler didn't understand - Portuguese, maybe, or Turkish - and all five of them surreptitiously glanced at both Connie and Tyler over the course of the ride to the 138th. Tyler scooted sideways toward Connie, hoping to find safety in her presence. Neither of them had any interest in being stared at. The men conversed with each other, laughing deeply on occasion. Tyler saw Connie's face going red. "What's wrong?" he whispered. "Nothing," Connie said. Eventually the elevator dinged and opened up, and Tyler and Connie both eased themselves between the men in order to get to the doors. Tyler felt multiple hands brushing against his thighs as he went through the gauntlet. He reached back for Connie's hand, gripping it tightly and pulling her through behind him. She flinched as she received her own minor groping on the way out. And then she turned to the men, once she and Tyler were out of the elevator, and shouted at them in the same incomprehensible language they had been speaking. She pointed an accusatory finger at the ones up front, shouting at them mercilessly until the doors finally closed, not giving them a chance to respond. Then she composed herself again, smoothed her skirt, and took a deep breath. "Fucking Greek bastards," she said. "Pardon my language." "Are you okay?" Tyler asked. Shaking her head, Connie looked at Tyler with a frown. "Not really, no. It's just..." "Hey, hey," Tyler said, trying to comfort his date, sounding much like Amber did when she had one of her motherly streaks going. He hugged Connie, pulled her into his breasts, and stroked the back of her blouse. "It's okay. You're allowed to be upset." "I know," Connie said. "I'm not going to start crying or anything. It's just that we were having a perfect day until that. And now I'm angry." Pulling away from Connie slightly, Tyler looked deep into her eyes. "Well, you can either stand around and stay angry, or you can come have tea with me. Which of those sounds better?" "Tea," Connie said, attempting to shake the scowl off her face. "Tea, definitely. We'll see if we can convince the waitress to put a little Frangelico in there to take the edge off." Connie turned away from Tyler, back on task, and scanned the foyer of the 138th floor. Way up here, in one of the highest levels of Saturn Beta, everything looked fancy. Roman-style columns circled the foyer and displayed signs for space-cruises around the moons, luxury condos on the station... and the tea room, which was literally called The Tea Room, according to its sign. Connie fingered Tyler's hand until she had his attention, then guided him through the columns surrounding The Tea Room's doors. Connie gave her name to the host, who ushered both of them into the main dining area. It was all plush highback chairs, small round tables, and people dressed as formally as Tyler and Connie, though granted all the men in the room were wearing suits and ties. Tyler envied them, briefly, until he realized that they and most of their dates were much more advanced in years, trying hard to conceal their ages with too much makeup and hair dye. Tyler was here with the most attractive woman in the room, apart from possibly himself. The men in the dining area took notice of this, and Tyler and Connie had at least a dozen sets of eyes monitoring them by the time they arrived at their appointed table. Although he was becoming accustomed to the constant attention from men, Tyler couldn't help but remain annoyed about it. He grumbled a bit as the host pulled his chair out for him. Holding his long skirt, Tyler sat down and hopped a few times on his behind as the host pushed the chair closer to the table. The host then repeated this process for Connie, who was likewise wearing that same scowl on her face. "So," Tyler said, trying to direct the mood somewhere pleasant. He found himself in the role the protective, optimistic boyfriend, a role he was much more familiar with than that of dainty feminine flower in constant need of being coached and coddled by his coworkers at Ringed Amusements. "You were telling me something about the station. About the uppermost and lowermost floors." Still working on calming herself down after the incident with the Greeks in the elevator, Connie took a deep breath. "Right. Not much to it, honestly. The uppermost and lowermost floors tend to be fancier, overall, than what's in the middle. That's because when they add a new floor to the station - which happens often, since it's easy to do because of the station's modularity - it's usually the more luxury- minded tenants who are interested in snapping up the space." She pointed at the table between them. "You won't find a place like this on the 75th floor. Nor will you find a place like Pyramid Suites on the 71st." "Huh," Tyler said, truly interested in the subject and enjoying the lilt of Connie's voice. "How many floors are there, total?" "A hundred and fifty, last I checked." "You know," Tyler said, crossing his legs under his skirt and leaning forward, "I think you're onto something. I stayed in a sketchy little place on the 73rd floor, my first day here. Then Amber and Zoe and I went to a sports bar there the other day, after the..." "After you were attacked." Tyler's face sunk. He could have gone without being reminded of that today. His mind flashed back to the day before, when the greasy-haired guy had gotten a little too frisky with his hands, then the next moment when Paul the printing-press workman showed up to knock the guy out and save the day. Tyler remembered standing there in his French maid outfit, skirt barely long enough to cover his fishnet stocking tops and tits nearly bursting out of the bodice, helpless to do anything about the unwanted attention by himself. "It wasn't an attack. Not really," Tyler said. "Just a... typical pervert, I guess." "Typical man, if we're being truthful," Connie replied. "I felt bad for you girls, yesterday. I really did. Now, granted, the view was nice. You, obviously, and that naughty nurse, and that belly dancer... phew. I'm not going to complain about any of that. But your boss seems to put you in unenviable situations. I didn't see a single instance of official security in the lounge. You were lucky that young man stepped in to take care of things." "That's not true. Paul was there, sitting at the table with you, right? That was Jackson's idea. She told me about it. Paul and the other men with him were there to keep the other invited guests from... getting the wrong idea about you. Because you wanted to be left alone." Connie was taken aback by this. "Huh. I suppose you're right. Well, shut my mouth, then. You have a wonderful boss." Tyler smirked. "She's okay." After a moment, the waitress showed up at the table to take their orders. Connie didn't bother looking at a menu before ordering both her own and Tyler's tea for the day. Good thing, since Tyler had no idea what (or how) to order anything in this particular establishment. Connie seemed experienced at it and he was more than happy to yield to her. The waitress left the table with the promise to have their sandwiches out soon. Connie and Tyler sat silently, staring out the large bay windows at the back of the tea house. The station had rotated enough that all the patrons could see a dusting of Saturn's rings through the leftmost window, which was enough to pull everyone's attention away from the two attractive, comparatively young ladies sitting near the center of the room. The waitress soon returned with a pot of tea and two delicate cup-and- saucer arrangements, placing everything down on the low table between Connie and Tyler. She poured their first cups and wandered away. "Anyway," Tyler began, not wanting to spend any more time discussing what the greasy-haired perv tried to do to him yesterday, "thank you. For the appointment at the salon. It was... I don't know. 'Fun' isn't quite the right word. It was definitely an experience." Connie lifted her teacup, extending her pinky finger as she brought it to your mouth. "You've never been to a salon before, I take it." "Nope." "Ever?" Tyler looked sideways, further concocting the story that Amber had kindly and unwittingly outlined for him this morning. "No. The most I ever had back on Mars was a haircut." "Styling appointment, Violet. Not a haircut. Ladies don't get haircuts." "Well, you should tell that to my family back home, then. It was definitely just a haircut." He fingered the auburn locks over his right shoulder for effect. "When it got too long, I went through the habitat to the guy who cut hair. He cut it. I came home again. That was it." Connie shook her head in horrified disbelief. "Good God. What kind of grimy, backward hovel did you grow up in?" Tyler lifted his own teacup. "It was a mining colony." "Ah," Connie said. "Well, there's your explanation. Those kinds of places aren't exactly known for their deference to the fairer sex. It was smart of you to escape from there. Even if it meant coming here and... you know... getting on the payroll of Ringed Amusements. I assume you're working there to pay off some kind of refugee debt." "Something like that," Tyler said. He sipped his tea, then looked down at the teacup afterward. His lips had left a faint pink smudge on the white china. "There are worse places to be." "Like Mars." "Like Mars," Tyler said. Then, in an attempt to be clever, "or Greece." Connie looked back at Tyler shiftily. "And now she's prodding me for my own life story. That's a bit advanced for the first date, don't you think?" "Oh, I don't know. About as advanced as making out in an elevator." "Let me ask you something," Connie said, trying not to laugh. "And I hope you answer truthfully, because I really am interested in this particular aspect of your person." Tyler took another sip of tea. "Okay. Sure." "Before you came to Saturn Beta, what was the girliest thing you'd ever been allowed to do?" Tyler nearly choked on his tea. Connie leaned forward as Tyler coughed, worried that she might have upset him with the question. Tyler held up a manicured finger, indicating that everything was okay, and that he just needed a minute to get his breath back. Tyler wanted to stall for time. After coming out of the coughing fit, Tyler said, "What do you mean by "girliest,' exactly?" "Oh, I don't know. Most feminine. Something that separates us from the men. Something you wore, maybe, or something you did with your friends or your mother. Something that made you really, really feel like a woman, and not just like another brute on the mining colony with a different set of organs." Shaking his head, Tyler brought the teacup to his lips again as he decided on a good response. "Nothing." "Nothing? Ever?" "Not that I can remember. Things were very... task-oriented, back on Mars. There wasn't much time for doing anything that didn't require a pair of heavy work pants." "What about growing up? Before you were old enough to start working?" "I don't remember ever not working. Even if it was just helping my mother with the laundry or carrying bottles of water through the habitat. Someone needed something done, they told me to do it, and I did it." "Sounds like you were enslaved." Glad that the story was working, Tyler shrugged at Connie's comment. "Maybe. It's hard to say. I never really knew anything else, so I don't have anything to compare it to. All the other kids my age in the colony had the same childhood, so it's not like I had anyone to be jealous of." "But what about other people from other places? Didn't you ever watch videos from Earth or visit sites? Didn't you ever see the way other girls lived?" "Well, yeah," Tyler said. "I saw other girls, and I saw grown women. On Earth, mostly. I never really thought about being like them, though. I just thought, that's their life, and I have a different one, and that's the end of the story. I never wanted to be like them or look like them or wear what they were wearing. I liked the way they looked, but I never thought about... being a woman." Connie, in a moment of extreme sympathy, leaned across the short table and took Tyler's cup and saucer from him. She placed it gently on the table and then took both of Tyler's hands in her own. Then she stared into his eyes comfortingly and rubbed the tops of his hands with her green-painted thumbs. "But you are a woman, Violet. And an attractive one, on top of that. You need to be reminded of that, even if your family on Mars did a shitty job of it when you were growing up." Tyler looked off to the side. "I suppose so." "I know so," Connie said. "I knew there was something strange about you, when I was watching you in the lounge yesterday. You did a great job serving drinks and talking to everyone, and you played your role well, but you never seemed completely comfortable. There was something buried in you, deep down, that stopped you from fully realizing yourself. And I can still see it today, as we're sitting here. Like you're putting on a show for everyone to see, trying to walk and behave and dress a certain way because it's what you think you're supposed to do, not because it's what you really want to do. Like you've been given lessons recently on how to act like a girl, but you don't really feel like one deep down inside yourself. You've never been given the opportunity to embrace who you are. You've never been feminine." Tyler suppressed a laugh. "That's a good way to put it." "Well, it's the only accurate way to put it at all! God, Violet, what you went through on Mars would probably be considered child abuse back on Earth. Amazing, the things they get away with on the other planets. I feel like taking the next rocket to Mars and filing a lawsuit on your behalf." "Connie," Tyler said, squeezing her hands in his, "it's really okay. The way I grew up is the way I grew up. I don't want it to upset you. And I really don't want you to get angry on my behalf." "Too late for that," Connie said. "Well, okay. But don't go too over the top. I'm not on Mars anymore. I'm here on the station, with you." Tyler felt himself drifting into genuine honesty again. "And, believe it or not, and despite how weird this whole situation is, I actually am enjoying all this stuff I'm doing with you. I enjoyed the hairc... the styling appointment. And I enjoyed the manicure and pedicure. The makeover was weird, but I really love the way it made me look. Which is very strange, because I'm not at all used to looking like this." Tyler let go of Connie's hands and pointed at himself enthusiastically, head to toe. Pinching a section of his skirt in each hand, Tyler continued. "I've never looked anything like this in my life, before. I've never even had the opportunity to look like this, or feel like this, or have someone... fuss over me the way they did back at the salon. It's completely alien to me. And it was really weird, but it was... nice, too. Just a nice, new experience that I got to have." He leaned back in his chair. "As if I haven't had enough new experiences lately." Connie's eyes had boggled over the course of Tyler's musings. "Wow," she said, regaining her cup and saucer. She sipped in silence for a moment, just as the waitress arrived with a tray. Placing a large platter of sandwiches and pastries in the center of the table and a small plate each in front of Connie and Tyler, she left again wordlessly. "Yeah," Tyler said, staring off into space, quite literally, thanks to the large bay windows on the far end of the tea room. "Wow is right." "I think I've nailed down something else about you, Violet," said Connie, reaching for a sandwich on the platter. "If you don't mind be vocalizing my observations." "Be my guest." "You don't get the opportunity to express yourself much. Didn't, back on Mars. And now that you're out here on Beta, suddenly the floodgates have cracked. You're volunteering a lot of information that I never asked for. And I don't think it's just because we've become... fond of each other, over the last few hours. I think you've been cooped up in more ways than one. I think you've been dying to talk plainly about yourself for a very, very long time. And somehow your new life on the station has afforded you the means to do that." Tyler gazed pensively into his teacup, rolling Connie's words over in his head. He sure was talking a lot, conveying his genuine feelings about his "new life on the station" as Connie put it, and she hadn't the first clue how fundamentally correct she was about that assessment. He only rarely talked this much about himself back in Miami, and only when he was off the job and in a presence of a woman he fancied, when the reward for intimate honesty was the prospect of sex later in the evening. But even those encounters were sprinkled with lies, just to keep things interesting for the listener and close to the chest for Tyler himself. Keeping the conversation going while retaining the most fundamental truths about himself hidden away. That's all he was doing here with Connie. Tyler convinced himself of this as he drew his pink- painted fingers along the wispy fabric of his dress. "Well, I'm glad, personally," Connie said, since Tyler clearly was still lost in thought. "And you've probably already figured this out, but talking is only one of the ways we express ourselves. Women have many ways of doing that. Men do, too, but we women have certain methods that men can never fully appreciate. How we dress, for one." She pinched the hem of her blue plaid skirt for effect. "How we present ourselves to the world, from our hairstyles to our shoes. What a woman looks like says a lot more about her than a man could ever hope to say with what he wears. And yes, men's fashion exists, and it has its certain diversities... but let's face it: all men's clothing pretty much looks the same, and all men, by logical extension, look the same while wearing it." Tyler wasn't sure where she was going with this. "Well, okay," he said. "You're the expert." "You keep saying that," Connie said. "You're right, of course, and I'll take it as a compliment. Seriously, though... you were probably forced to wear the same thing, day in and day out, on the mining colony. Right? Functionality above all else with no room for genuine fashion to make its mark. You had no opportunities to make yourself feel pretty, or to stand out. Well, congratulations, Violet. Because of that experience, you know what it's like to be a man." Tyler laughed, loud and hard, eventually covering his mouth once the greater part of the tea room had turned to see who was making all the ruckus. Tyler held a hand over his face until he had finally stopped laughing. Jesus, if only Connie knew how accurate she was... "Good God," Connie said, smirking. "I didn't think it was that funny." "It probably wasn't," Tyler said, feeling tears forming at the corner of his eyes from his fit. "Guess I'm just in a giggly mood today. Maybe that waitress did put something extra in that teapot." "Not likely, I'm afraid. So. Violet. Now that you've had both experiences, which one do you prefer?" Tyler furrowed his brow. "Between the salon and the tea house?" "No. Between being forced to act like a man, or being allowed to fully express yourself as a woman?" Tyler's jaw dropped an inch. What the hell kind of a question was that? Connie had no idea about Tyler's previous life... his REAL life. He had enjoyed that just fine, back in Miami, in his lucrative career as an info broker... until he had gotten on the wrong side of one Gordon Rosenthal. Still, if it were up to him, if it weren't for the threat of Rosenthal's retribution and the arrangement he'd made with Jackson, he'd get right back into his old body, take the next rocket to Earth, and resume his life as Tyler Hillman instead of parading himself around the wild west as Violet Taylor. In a heartbeat. His experience of being female for a few days was simply that, as far as he was concerned: an experience. It wasn't permanent, and it wasn't something he would agonize over when his debt to Jackson was paid and the time came to head back to normality. But he didn't want to offend Connie, his client... his date... and he didn't want to blow his cover by giving a ridiculous answer to a very simple question. Connie was basically asking him which he preferred between being free and being enslaved. What other answer could he possibly give without it seeming suspicious? "I prefer this," he said, at last, giving a little flourish with his free hand. "I most definitely prefer this." "Expressing yourself as a woman," Connie clarified. "Yes. Yes. It's been great, Connie. It really has. Thank you again, so much. It's been a wonderful day." "Well," Connie said, taking another finger sandwich, "don't thank me prematurely. The day isn't over just yet." ***** The meal at The Tea Room ended shortly thereafter, once Connie dropped formal lines of questioning and the two of them sat in near silence, enjoying the food and drinks and each other's quiet company. Connie paid the bill and she escorted Tyler back through the lobby of the 138th floor, toward the bank of elevators. "Now," Connie said, as they boarded the elevator and she pushed the button for the 20th floor. "I'm afraid I have a tiny bit of business to deal with, if you don't mind a brief pause in our outing. You just stand there and look gorgeous while I take care of things." Tyler giggled as Connie took her smartphone out of her purse and began tapping away. He leaned against the back wall, striking what he thought was a sexy, titillating pose - pressing his ass against the wall, jutting his breasts out as far as he could without straining his back, and lifting his skirt up to the knee to let Connie see more of his shapely legs. Connie eventually looked up from her phone and stopped breathing for an instant when she saw what Tyler was doing. "You're killing me," Connie said. "Absolutely killing me." "Good," Tyler said, flashing a big, inviting smile. He rubbed his kneecap, then pulled the hem of his dress up further, exposing one inch, then another, then another... but eventually Connie returned full attention to her phone. Tyler was slightly disappointed that he hadn't done enough to tempt Connie into dropping her phone entirely and ravaging him right there in the elevator car. She was a prim and proper lady, though... or at least that's what she tried to project, sometimes, when she wasn't doing the dirty old man act like she had been during their mani-pedi appointment. Soon the elevator dropped them off on the 20th floor, and Connie had Tyler lead the way into the Pyramid Suites section of the lobby. Tyler walked confidently through the lobby and through the sliding doors, knowing full well that Connie was in "observation mode" again, wanting to give her something worth observing. He found it thrilling that he had this much power over someone he found so attractive. Usually it was the woman who had this type of power in the relationship, the power that forces the other party to distraction by showing off one's physical assets to their fullest potential. This, he knew, was what he enjoyed the most about today. He loved how Connie was so attracted to him, so interested in him, so unable to take her eyes off him. This wasn't at all like how things went in the lounge yesterday. Leering looks from sleazy men while wearing a French maid outfit was unflattering at best and scary at worst. Receiving those same looks from the lovely and eccentric Connie Giordano, though... that was a different story. And Tyler savored every breathless moment he caused in her. "Left," Connie said, from behind Tyler, as he reached a diverging hallway past the Pyramid Suites reception counter. Tyler turned on his low heels, left, as his sea-foam green skirt swished across his legs. "Right," Connie said, as they went down another hallway. This one was filled with guest rooms. Connie eventually had him stop in front of a door marked with the number 109. "Home sweet home," she said, swiping her phone at the door's sensor. The magnetic lock disengaged and Connie pushed the door open, letting Tyler go in first. The suite was classy and wide, with a big bed at the far end that sat near a big window facing outward into space. There were two large sofas, a couple table and chair sets made of real wood, a large monitor mounted to the wall... Amber was right about Pyramid Suites being a fancy-pants place. This room was much nicer than the room Tyler shared with Amber. Hell, it was nicer than Jackson's luxurious office back on the 48th floor. Tyler tried to imagine how much Connie was paying per day to rent this suite. He didn't mind lazing around here for an hour or two while Connie finished up whatever business she needed to attend to. He paced in and dragged his fingers along a sofa back as Connie offered to take his purse from him. "So," Tyler said, handing his purse over to her, "what kind of business do you have to take care of? Anything interesting?" "Very," Connie replied, smirking. She placed their purses on a table near the door. "Well, don't let me keep you. I'm sure I can find something around here to..." "Violet," Connie interrupted. She came forward, took Tyler's hands in hers, and leaned in for a brief kiss, which Tyler was happy to oblige her. "I'm done doing what I needed to do. You misunderstand me." "Oh," Tyler said as his pulse quickened beneath his breasts. "Okay. Sorry." "In the elevator, on the way down, I was canceling our plans for the rest of the day. The dinner and the concert we were going to... I rescheduled." "Is everything okay?" Tyler said, playing dumb. His heart pounded, and as Connie moved closer until their bodies were pressed against each other, Tyler could feel her heart pounding too. "Yes," Connie said. "Everything's fine. But I can't take this anymore. I can't wait any longer. We need to skip to the end of the date, right now, or I'm going to explode." "Fine with me," Tyler said. He wrapped his arms tightly around Connie's frame and went in for another kiss, mouth open and breath heavy. She returned his attentions enthusiastically, bringing her hands up to cup his face as they made out. She soon gripped a handful of Tyler's wavy auburn hair, using it as an anchor as her tongue and lips pressed against Tyler's own. They stood and carried on like this for a few minutes before Connie let go of Tyler's face and looked deep into his eyes. "Jackson told me about you," she said. "About why you weren't listed on the company site. And how you aren't available for..." "I'm available," Tyler interjected. "For you, Connie. Not for anyone else." Connie moaned lightly, as though what Tyler had just said had given her a minor rush of pleasure. She lightly gripped his fingers in hers and guided him over to the bed. Tyler nervously followed along, anxious about experiencing what Connie had in mind for it while simultaneously wanting it to start as quickly as possible. He could feel his new vagina swelling, moistening, aching... ***** Connie had Tyler sit at the foot of the bed, which was low enough to let his toes touch the floor after Connie knelt down and sensually, slowly removed the pumps on his feet. She took a foot in both hands and rubbed it while looking at Tyler, smiling at him. She let go of his foot and stood up again, giving Tyler a front-row seat as she unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. Her small breasts were cosseted by a white lace bra, and she ran her fingers over the cups for a few seconds before bringing her hands down, across her flat belly, below her navel, and to the waistline of her blue plaid skirt. She reached around behind her back and Tyler heard a zipping sound. Once loosened, the skirt fell into a puddle around Connie's short boots. Tyler looked with anticipation at Connie's matching white panties, which had very little fabric in them and framed her pubic region erotically. Slowly, he leaned forward on the bed, then brought his hands forward to pull Connie's panties down... "No you don't," Connie said. Tyler pulled his hands back and looked up at her. "Not until I've had mine." Connie knelt again at the foot of the bed. She took Tyler's ankles in her hands and slowly moved upward, caressing Tyler's calves, knees, and thighs as her probing continued under his dress. She maintained eye contact as her fingers reached the elastic of Tyler's own panties. Tyler breathed heavily as Connie hooked her thumbs into Tyler's panties, then paused. "You're sure?" she asked. "Jesus, yes," Tyler said, as he felt his pussy swelling and moistening in preparation for what was to come. "I just... I've never..." Connie looked awkwardly at him. "Never?" Tyler shook his head. "And you're a prostitute?" "No! I mean... no. I've never been..." Tyler could scarcely believe he was about to say this... "I've never had my pussy eaten. I've eaten out other girls in the past, but..." "But they've never returned the favor," Connie said, rubbing Tyler's thighs, her hands dangerously close to Tyler's puffy slit. "You've been with some very selfish lovers, Violet. Pull up your dress." Nervously, Tyler reached down and took the hem of his dress in his hands. He pulled it up past his knees and thighs, bunching it together once he had it above his waist. Connie licked her lips and leaned in to Tyler's exposed underwear, where she planted a single gentle kiss on his lacy white panties. Tyler moaned in pleasure as Connie pulled down the panties an inch at a time, slowly, unbearably slowly... Tyler felt the odd sensation of open air wafting over his new vagina, and it caused him to squirm. He watched Connie's face rise up again and plant itself on his pussy. Tyler flinched at the contact, just slightly. Connie opened her mouth and began her work on Tyler as he propped himself up on his elbows, holding his skirt in his hands, watching Connie as she serviced him. He felt her lips sucking on his clit, her tongue probing his outer folds, her hands rubbing his thighs before reaching around his back to pull him in tighter. Tyler closed his eyes as Connie continued, reveling in the sensations. He had experienced something similar to this with Amber's vibrator, but Connie's ministrations were more pointed, more deliberate, and more intimate than the experimental attention Tyler had with the vibrator. He found himself moaning more, grinding into Connie's face more, as he simply couldn't help himself... Connie obviously knew what she was doing down there. Connie was, indeed, the expert. She continued probing Tyler's pussy with her lips and tongue, alternating attention from clitoris to labia to deeper parts, making faint slurping noises as she took Tyler to erotic heights he'd never experienced, ratcheting up his pleasure a minute at a time. Tyler eventually let go of the hem of his dress and grabbed two handfuls of Connie's brown hair behind her head, pulling his pussy even further into her beautiful face. He moaned and squealed as he felt his climax surfacing... and then he screamed as his entire feminine body shuddered with the thrill of intense orgasm. He let go of Connie's head and collapsed onto the bed, giving over to the sensations of his new body and the pleasure it could experience. He breathed hard as his orgasm finally subsided, opening his eyes to the sight of Connie Giordano tapping lightly along the length of her lips with her fingers. "Might've gotten some lipstick on you," she said. "But you got some juices on me. We'll call it even." "Holy... Jesus," Tyler said, still incapable of fully comprehending what had just been done to him. He lay there on Connie's bed, arms outstretched, breasts held outward by his bra under the fabric of his dress, hem hiked up past his waist, with his dripping pussy unclothed and exposed to anyone who cared to look at it. Connie, wearing only her bra and panties, crawled onto the bed and lay on her side next to Tyler, combing her sea-foam painted nails through his wavy auburn hair. "You've clearly been missing out," Connie said. "Clearly," Tyler agreed, gasping. "Tell me that wasn't your first orgasm, at least. I don't think I could bear the thought of you going through your entire young life without..." "No," Tyler interrupted. "I've had orgasms before. Nothing like that, though. That was amazing, Connie." "Thank you. I am to please." "I can't believe you did that," Tyler said. He turned his head to face her. "I mean, you're paying me to be here. You're... a customer. If anyone here is supposed to be servicing someone..." "Oh, please. I couldn't do that to you. Especially since you and Jackson both continue insisting that you're not a prostitute." Tyler shook his head. "I'm not. I mean, I told Jackson I wouldn't... but this is different. You're different. I just don't want to end up with..." "With a man." "Exactly," Tyler said. "Yeah, exactly. I was just afraid that Jackson was going to start throwing me at every guy on the station. There's girls I work with who just stand there by the elevators, wearing skimpy clothing and..." "Okay, Violet, okay," Connie said. "But you're here now, with me. Just us two girls, having a good time, enjoying each other's company. There are no men here." Tyler furrowed his brow. He was relieved, in a way, that Connie saw no evidence of his masculinity coming forth through the person of Violet Taylor. Certainly it was a good thing that she didn't suspect anything about who Tyler really was, or what he looked like a mere week ago before he got on that rocket to Saturn Beta. He would never have gotten as far with her as he did, otherwise. He would never have had one of the most fascinating, luxurious days of his life, either. He rolled over toward Connie, him in his tea-length green dress and her in her virginal white bra and panties, and kissed her lips. He tasted a hint of his pussy juices on her tongue, and the flavor of it mixed with the rapturous feeling of Connie's nearly-naked body in his arms got him excited again almost instantly. After making out with her for a few minutes, he pulled away from her mouth and kissed his way down her body, first the neck, then between the shoulder blades, and then between her small, lace-covered tits. Tyler deftly reached around her back and unhooked the bra, freeing her breasts to open air, then sucked on one nipple while fingering the other as Connie leaned back and enjoyed herself. It was strange, to Tyler, that he was focusing his attentions on a pair of boobs that were so much smaller than the ones he possessed now. He had never been into small chests back in Miami, but he would make an exception for Connie. She wore them so well. Moving his mouth from one breast to the other, Tyler felt Connie shudder underneath him. She reached her hands underneath his dress once more, rubbing his thighs as he licked and sucked on her pert nipples. Then Tyler descended again, licking down the length of Connie's toned stomach, past her belly button, until he felt the enticing scratch of trimmed pubic hair brushing against his chin. He pulled Connie's panties down slowly as she combed her fingers through his hair, then he pressed his face into Connie's bush and began lapping away vigorously. The musky scent of Connie's vagina caused his own pussy to swell with anticipation again under the silken confines of his green dress. Almost as if she could read his mind, Connie sat up as Tyler ate her out, reaching her hands behind his neck and picking at the zipper she found there. Tyler heard the sound of the top of his dress being unzipped, somewhere far off in the distance. "Oh, God," Connie said as Tyler sucked on her clit while massaging around the labia with his thumbs. Connie stopped unzipping Tyler's dress and leaned back again, taking one of her breasts in each hand and tweaking her nipples. "God, Violet, yes!" Tyler internally congratulated himself for doing a good job on Connie's pussy. He figured lesbians were better connoisseurs of cunnilingus than straight women were, and any moaning and screaming he elicited from Connie must indicate he was pleasing her properly. He continued his ministrations until he felt Connie's body shudder once more, this time more sustained than before, as her toes curled and her back arched. Only when he knew she was in her afterglow did he pull his face away from Connie's groin. He looked at her face and watched her breathing heavily under closed eyes and partially-ruined makeup, streaked with sweat. He wondered if his own face looked as funny as Connie's - mascara smudged all around the eyes, lipstick smeared everywhere, and the miracle-drug foundation caked in pockets all over her face. Tyler couldn't help but giggle a bit as he knelt on the bed, watching Connie recover, hands folded in a ladylike way over the skirt of his half-unzipped dress. He pinched some of the faint green fabric between his pink-painted fingers and felt... happy. And lucky, that he'd been given this opportunity with Connie Giordano, which he never would have had if things were back to normal. And most of all, he felt ready for round 2, his pussy pulsing with the potential of multiple orgasms and a short if not non-existent refractory period. "There's a French saying," Connie finally said, able to form words once more, her eyes still closed. "Which you're aware of, I'm sure, since you're a French maid." "Har har," Tyler said. He reached a hand out and stroked Connie's inner thigh. "It's 'le petit mort,' and it means the little death, if we're being literal." She finally opened her eyes and stared blankly at the high ceiling of her luxury suite. "It means a lot of different things, depending on who you ask, but most of those things revolve around sex. Specifically the after-effects of sex. It's the feeling of loss you experience after fantastic, life-changing sex. It's a transcendence, sort of. The world stops existing and all you have is the happiness of what you just felt mixed with the sadness that it's over. Like when you finish reading a great book that you wished would never end. Except, you know, it involves vaginas rather than books." Tyler laughed. "Well, okay. And I just read a great book to you?" "God, no. I mean, that was fine and everything. Well done, kudos to you. But I don't think either of us have hit 'le petit mort' just yet." Connie pushed herself off the bed and knelt in front of Tyler, completely nude, with her perky tits front and center. The two looked deep into each other's eyes. "We can try to get there, though." "I'm up for it if you are," Tyler said. "Oh, I'm most definitely up for it," Connie said. "First, though, let's see about getting you out of that dress." Connie leaned forward and reached behind Tyler's back again, lowering the zip on his dress all the way. Shrugging it off his shoulders, Tyler finally exposed his upper body to Connie, from the tops of his silk- covered D-cup breasts to his navel. He stepped off the bed in order to let the dress fall off him entirely, and he stood there in front of Connie's hungry eyes wearing nothing but a bra. It felt strange to him, standing like this wearing only a single item of clothing, and that item covering a part of his body that he'd never had before... but the strangeness of it was relaxed by the look of longing that Connie was giving him. She scanned him from his pink-painted toenails to the top of his head, hair ruffled from the romp in the sheets. He stepped out of the puddled dress, kicked it lightly off to the side, and reached behind his back with both hands. He maintained eye contact with Connie as he did this. His fingers found the hooks on his bra, and he released them, then gingerly peeled the straps off his shoulders and dropped the bra to the floor. There he stood, matching Connie's complete nudity, letting his massive breasts hang free for his lover to gaze upon. "Those," Connie said, nearly drooling, "are some nice tits." Tyler, despite himself, was thrilled by the compliment. "Thank you." "I believe I'd like to suck on them all day and lay on them all night, if it's not too much to ask." "It's not," Tyler said, stepping forward to rejoin Connie on the bed. Their two bodies mashed together once more as their mouths hungrily sought each other. Soon Connie had Tyler on his back again, massaging his breasts with both hands while her mouth attended to his pussy once more, leaving Tyler to stare up at the ceiling in erotic rapture as Connie proved again and again that she was, without a doubt, a true expert. ***** Hours later, Connie and Tyler stood in the multi-headed shower together, washing and rinsing themselves, paying very little attention to the other. They had already paid plenty of attention to each other over the course of the afternoon, so the break in conversation and physical contact was a welcome relief no matter how enamored they were with each other or how intimate they had been in bed. The shower was wide enough to accommodate both at once and had several heads sprinkling water down in all directions... an ideal setup for couples who both needed a shower right this minute and couldn't wait for the other to finish, Tyler gathered. Another minor perk for the types of people who could afford to vacation at Pyramid Suites. Occasionally, he would look over his shoulder at Connie's slight nude body, watching the water cascade over her as she washed. Connie would catch his eye, and they would smile at each other, and then go back to what they'd been doing previously. It left Tyler with time to reimagine everything he had just done with Connie, and everything she had done to him... how she had eaten out his pussy first, and the how he had returned the favor while still wearing his long, green dress... and then how he had stripped for her and rejoined her on the bed, where she expertly ate him out again and again, gripping his breasts, rolling and pinching his nipples, sending erotic thrills through his entire body as she brought him to orgasm after blissful orgasm. And how he, after recovering from Connie's expert ministrations, had done his best to please her, mimicing her technique as best he could. He had performed cunnilingus in the past, of course, and he had had his partners tell him what felt good and what didn't work so well... but now he knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what felt good, thanks to first-hand experience on the receiving end. Connie seemed to enjoy it, if her shrieks of surprise and pleasure were genuine. He would definitely have to remember this experience when he returned to Miami with his own body. This had been a very, very enlightening day. Exhausting, too. It was a good thing he and Connie had spent their shower in silence. Tyler didn't have the energy to talk. Neither of them spoke until they were both toweled off, wearing the short silk robes provided by the hotel, and back in bed again. Connie pulled the heavy sheets and comforters over herself and Tyler, then lay back on her pillow and looked steadily at Tyler in the dim light of the suite. Consciousness faded in and out - one moment he'd be looking at Connie, and she'd be looking at him; the next she'd have her eyes closed, then Tyler would close his, and the cycle would repeat. This was Connie slipping back into her observational mode, he gathered. Then he eventually dozed off, wondering whether Connie was still watching him but not able to keep himself awake to find out. "My grandmother was Greek," she said suddenly, waking Tyler from his stupor. "Growing up, my life was autumns in New York, winters in Florence, summers in Patras. That's on the western side of Greece." Tyler snorted in a burst of air as his heart thudded to life after his rest. "I'll take your word for it," he said. He decided to play dumb once again, remembering fully who he was now that the lovemaking was finished and the nap had allowed him to regain this temporarily- sidelined measure of himself. "I don't even know where Greece is." "Europe. Eastern hemisphere, over in the... you've never been to Earth, have you?" "I have. Just the United States, though. Never anywhere more exotic than that." Connie smirked. "Patras isn't exactly exotic. And my grandmother, who did nothing all day but bitch about my mother and I. And my mother and I just had to sit there and take it, because that's what we did. My mother, the full-blooded Italian, and me, half-Italian, and then my father, who spent so much time in Italy on business that he may as well have been Italian himself. My father would try to get my grandmother to shut up, but she never did. My grandmother never forgave him for marrying an Italian woman." "Hang on," said Tyler, scooting closer to Connie on his pillow. "Your last name. Giordano, right? That sounds..." "Italian. Yes." "But your father was Greek. So..." "So my last name should be Greek. Is Greek, technically. Was Greek, before I changed it." Tyler's expression sunk. "Oh. Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." "Ancient history," Connie said, waving it off. "So, there it is. My semi-irrational reason for hating Greek people. You've shared personal information with me, I've shared mine with you, so now we're even. All the same, I'd rather talk about something more... lighthearted. Like what we're going to order in for dinner tonight." "Oooh. Room service. You must really like me." "Or maybe I just really like room service," Connie said, smirking at Tyler. She leaned in for a tiny kiss, then pulled away and skipped over to the table where she had put her and Tyler's purses when they'd first arrived in the room. "I need to look up the menu. Want me to bring you your stuff?" She lifted Tyler's burgundy leather purse off the table. It took him a minute to register what it was, and to remember that it belonged to him. "Yeah, thanks," he said. He figured he should check his tablet. He was beholden to Jackson's rule number three, after all. Tyler and Connie stared and tapped at their tablets for the next several minutes. No new jobs had come over for Tyler to sift through, although there was a reminder on his schedule for tomorrow - the welcoming committee job, where he'd be shaking hands and giving out information packets to some people arriving on the station for the convention. The rocket was arriving bright and early for that one. He remembered Jackson saying there were other girls working that event with him. He wondered who they were. Connie was intent on her own tablet, sifting through Pyramid's room service menus. Tyler put his tablet down and reached back into his purse for his smartphone. The first thing he brought up, much by accident, was Dennis' last message from Earth - HOPE YOU'RE GETTING PLENTY OF THAT WILD WEST PUSSY. Tyler sniggered at this, turning the phone away from Connie just to be absolutely sure she couldn't see the exchange, and typed something back to Dennis: MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE. He relocked the phone and put it back in his purse, scooted closer to Connie under the sheets, put his head on her shoulder, and watched her as she pecked away on her tablet. After a minute or two he slid his long, shapely leg over her knees, resting it at groin level. "What're you ordering?" Tyler whispered flirtatiously into Connie's ear. "Oh, a little of this, little of that," Connie responded. She pressed a green button on the tablet, sending the order to the hotel's kitchen. "With a one-hour delay on it. We have a small matter to attend to before we eat. And by small, of course, I mean moderately large." Connie rolled away from Tyler and out of bed, where she upped the room's brightness a bit so she could see her way around. Tyler watched as she minced about the room in her little silk robe, which ended midway up her thighs, giving him a fantastic view of her legs. Then she bent over into a suitcase, which gave Tyler an even better view of her naked ass and the hint of her vulva peeking out between her inner thighs. Tyler could feel his own pussy becoming aroused at the sight of it. Connie rose up again, holding something long, wobbly, and translucent purple in her hands. It took Tyler a moment to recognize what it was - a double-ended dildo. His pulse quickened. "I love these, don't you?" Connie said, shaking the dildo in her hand, completely misreading the surprised expression on Tyler's face. "All the benefits of a man without all the roughness and nonsense that comes along with it." "Um," Tyler said, not sure how to handle this situation. Making love with Connie one more time before the food arrived sounded like a good idea, but he was thinking more along the lines of a good old harmless sixty-nining, not... being penetrated. She stopped in her tracks, finally understanding what Tyler was acting so nervous for. She looked back at him, horrified. "God, Violet. Don't tell me you've never used one of these before." Tyler shook his head, swallowing nervously. "Nope. I've always just... you know... used a vibrator." "Well, that's a real shame, then. You really have been with some terrible lovers in the past." She rejoined him on the bed, holding the dildo in one hand while pulling back the bedsheets with the other, exposing Tyler's robe-clad body. He looked at the dildo with a mixture of trepidation, curiosity, and outright fear. It looked enormous... though maybe that was just because it was the length of two erect dicks stuck together, plus a few extra inches for good measure. "Is it... safe?" Tyler asked, as Connie flopped the dildo down just inches from Tyler's left hand. He looked at it closely and saw that the tip of it closely resembled the tip of a real penis - a smooth head that tapered as the shaft began. The shaft itself was ridged in some placed, veined in others. And it was thick, definitely thicker than his own package had ever been. It was awfully close to the real thing, which intimidated Tyler to no end. He wasn't sure he could handle it... or if he even wanted to. "It won't bite, if that's what you're asking." Connie said, nudging the dildo closer to Tyler's anxious hand. "And yes, it's safe. They wouldn't be able to sell it otherwise." Tyler squirmed at the thought of having this thing inside him, even though his own treacherous pussy was twitching with the anticipation of being filled. Curiosity soon overcame him and eventually he reached out to it, touching the tip with his pink-painted fingers. It felt rubbery and smooth. "Lay back," Connie said, retrieving the dildo from the bed. Tyler did as ordered as his heart pounded in his chest. He watched as Connie took one end of the dildo and put it in her mouth, sucking on the simulated prick erotically as she looked Tyler in the eyes. He wondered what pleasure she could possibly be getting from doing this, as she probably had never had the real thing anywhere near her mouth before. Though Connie did seem more interested in her partner's enjoyment than her own, considering the previous lovemaking session. Tyler himself was getting excited by Connie's show as she took the dildo into her mouth several inches at a time, pulled it back out again, licked the shaft up and down, kissed the tip enticingly... for a brief moment, Tyler fantasized that Connie was sucking on his own cock, the flesh and blood one he had back in Miami. He reached down to fondle his crotch by instinct, slipping his fingers between the folds of his robe and then the folds of his vagina, caressing his clitoris as Connie went to town on the dildo. His pussy lubricated itself in response to the hotness of what he saw before him, and after a few more seconds he no longer feared the thought of the dildo inside him. He wanted to experience the novelty of it; to satisfy Connie, his client for the day. That was the only reason, he told himself. Just to give it a try, just to make Connie happy... Soon, Connie brought the saliva-covered tip of the dildo down, showing it to Tyler as if waiting for his approval before she proceeded. Tyler remained silent and motionless. Connie brought the tip to Tyler's waiting pussy, where she massaged his outer lips with the purple rubber as Tyler watched with erotically-tinged fright. He found his legs spreading further apart, as if they were predisposed to do so at the promise of being penetrated. "Well, look who's warming up to the idea," Connie said, smiling. Tyler took his eyes off her, focusing instead on the big purple double-ended dildo as if it were the only thing on the entire station. He moaned a little as Connie applied gentle pressure to the tip, pushing on it until it had just spread Tyler's labia enough to accommodate it. Tyler flinched at the feeling of his most intimate region being opened by someone other than himself. He had stuck his own finger up there before, in the first shower he took after Jackson's nanobots had changed him, but had withdrawn it quickly once he realized what he was doing. This was different, though. This was a public affair, and the device being used to penetrate his pussy was much, much more than a mere finger... A second later, Connie pressed the tip of the dildo all the way into Tyler's cunt, causing him to gasp in surprise. It felt so thick, so invasive... and so pleasurable, so much more pleasurable than Tyler would ever want to admit. He loved the feeling of it, and he wanted more. The muscles inside his pussy began flexing, urging the new occupant inward and upward. His lower torso felt like it was expanding to accommodate the new visitor within. Connie smiled deviously as she observed Tyler's reaction to the dildo, then slowly pressed it in further, a fraction of an inch at a time, as Tyler became acclimatized to having a simulated cock in his pussy for the first time. "Nice, huh?" Connie said, as Tyler began gripping the bedsheets for dear life. The dildo went it further, further, coursing against his vaginal walls as it gained ground. Tyler's shocked, feminine moans echoed through the large suite as his ever-moistening pussy instinctively urged the purple rubber to keep going, keep going, don't stop... And then it did stop. Between gasps of pleasure, Tyler looked up to see Connie disrobing. He followed her lead, easing himself out of his own robe as the big purple dildo hung out of his pussy lips. Once they were fully nude again, she took her end of the dildo in one hand and spread her pussy lips with the other. Then she eased the tip inside her own vagina, lowering herself on its length, emitting a contented sigh once she had several inches in. "Always nice when you don't need to lube up first," she said, bringing her hands up to her pert tits as she took another inch into herself. Her legs had become entwined with Tyler's, and now she lay back on the bed herself, so that one of her legs was over Tyler's and her other was under. Tyler's kneecap touched the back of Connie's knee on one side; the situation was opposite on the other side. "Feeling good?" Connie asked, propping herself up on her elbows. "Um," Tyler said, unsure of how to properly vocalize how he felt right now, with a beautiful woman's legs wrapped up in his, laying across from each other on a bed, with a massive purple dong stuck halfway up his drenched, aching pussy. "Yeah. I'm fine. Now what?" "Now," Connie said, "we fuck ourselves. Give me your hand." Nervously, Tyler reached over his body, taking Connie's hand just inches above the center of the purple dildo. Connie, sensing the anxiety in Tyler's face, slowly brought both of their hands down upon the purple rubber, where she let go of Tyler's hand and gripped the dildo, silently urging Tyler to do the same. He touched the rubbery dong and encircled his hand around it, eventually entwining his fingers with Connie's on the underside of the length, brushing his thumb lightly against hers. Tyler's sparkly pink fingernails contrasted sharply with Connie's pale green nails in the dim light of the suite. They both held the dildo between them and looked deep into each other's eyes, Tyler hoping for some instruction, Connie wanting to get on with it already. Connie slid her body away from Tyler's, and the dildo retreated from her pussy a few inches. Then she leaned back in and the dildo went right back up again. Her mouth went slack and she began to moan. She never let her gaze drift from Tyler's eyes, expecting him to follow suit with the dildo. Tyler looked down at the purple rubber cock between their pussies one last time before he swallowed the last of his masculine pride and eased the dildo out a few inches, just as Connie had done. He immediately yearned to have it back in again - and to have it deeper, so much deeper - and he gripped the rubber tightly with his hand and pressed his feminine nethers downward once more. The erotic pleasure of it caused an involuntary gasp as the dildo plumbed further into his pussy, inch by glorious inch. "There you go," Connie said, rubbing Tyler's thumb with hers. "Keep it up." Tyler obeyed, getting himself into a rhythm with the dildo, gripping the rubber tightly and hoping that it would never slip out all the way. He impaled himself on it again and again, feeling as if his lower body was expanding to accommodate the dildo, while the pleasure built up inside his body as his G-spot was stimulated by the friction, the girth, the ridges, the veins... He knew what was going on here, in the recesses of his male mind. Here he was, in the body of a supermodel, ass-naked in bed with a lover, being fucked in his quivering pussy by a long, thick cock. And he didn't give a shit. He was enjoying every breathless second of this experience with Connie, as his vaginal juiced began drifting down the length of the dildo, mingling with his fingers, as he moaned and gasped and bit his lips and pressed the huge purple dong as far into his cunt as he could. Connie's own erotic, feminine noisemaking only served to make him hornier, to make him forget who he really was and how completely insane this situation was, to make him want the simulated cock in his snatch to keep fucking him. He could feel the warm, flowering buildup of climax beginning in his body, and he brought his free hand up to squeeze his breast and pinch his nipple as the pleasure continued to mount all throughout his ravishing feminine form. The muscles of Tyler's vagina tightly gripped the dildo, not wanting to let go of it, refusing to let it escape. His moaning synced up with Connie's moaning, and the two beautiful women picked up their pace until they both screamed in delight and simultaneously reached orgasm. They lay together afterwards, legs still entwined, dildo still suspended inside and between their pussies, as they attempted to recover themselves. Finally able to think straight again, Tyler had a moment of clarity while feeling the veined purple cock still resident in his vaginal depths, and he wondered how he had allowed the situation to progress this far. He liked Connie, of course... more than just liked her, obviously... but if she had presented the day's activities to Jackson by telling her that she wanted to stick a massive purple cock in Tyler's new pussy, Tyler would have shot down Jackson's proposal right there in her office on the 48th floor. He never would have allowed this if he had been in his right mind. Connie must have done something to his tea... or Jackson must have done something to the nanobots swimming around in his body. Surely they had some chemical control over him, some way of causing his hormones to act in a way that would make him receptive to the idea of what he had just done. "Violet," Connie said, gurgling the name, almost as if she'd forgotten how to speak over the course of their mutual dildo-fucking. "Please tell me you enjoyed that." Tyler scooted toward the headboard, away from Connie, working his vaginal muscles against the purple rubber length inside him until it retreated and slipped entirely out of his pussy. He felt a surge of relief, of catharsis, of... emptiness. He tucked himself under the covers of the bed once more, turning away from Connie as she lay in the rapturous afterglow she had earned through her vigorous self-fucking with the double-ended dildo. And Tyler couldn't bring himself to answer Connie's query. Not now, not ever.