Fender Bender Gender
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The End Of Everything free porn video
“I’ll take the shuttle; you stay on course. If we find something, we can call back.”
Only we both knew it would be too late. Even if the last white dwarf survived long enough for our failing instruments to keep our ship on course, there wouldn’t be enough fuel in the smaller shuttle if it went to the wrong energy source.
We would have to pick right.
Then came the last thing she would ever say before the final two streaks of starlight blinked out of existence.
“At least one of us might get there… I’d rather think... at the end, that the last person worth loving made it. Could you give me that?”
“Okay…” I choked it out, the blaring distress signals only background noise.
“But only if I take the shuttle…”
I thought it was the end, a goodbye because neither of us could stand to see each other go after all we had been through.
Only I survived, waking up to a soft and benevolent voice.
***
“It is best not to think of your universe as over. Thermodynamic energy is only one source of power that sprawls from the infinite collections of universes. Combined, our kind calls this the metaverse.”
“The metaverse?”
The voice seemed to shrug.
“A rough translation, another impression our kind creates from yours. We find it eases the emotional transition. You are not the first of your species to find that eternity extends only backwards. The impressions of energy unravel then enclose back into their original states. So it goes, again and again, dust scatters and then settles. Here, we may inhabit every spec and live without changing the current.”
“I don’t understand, what is this place?”
“Eternity.”
***
We were hungry.
I walked with one of them, seeing, feeling, thinking, just without words. My skin was dark, my body bare except for a fur covering stitched together with bone and thin strips of hide. I knew those around me. Not by names, we had none. In my underdeveloped mind I could barely think, most of the actions done by mindless memories, mimicked down from my own mother.
No one told us to come to the sea. Our tools were primitive, rocks with sharpened edges, sticks, and other crude implements. Prized possessions, some coveted, each claimed wordlessly by their creator.
We would grunt, point, whistle, or hoot, our body language conveying all that we needed to communicate as something more than a cohort and less than a clan.
They were more or less human, the men more hairy, the women walking with legs still a little more bent and open.
Except for me.
I was different.
Perceptible only to the tribe, but in our community, the contrast stood out vibrantly amongst the other females, drawing animalistic attempts at courtship from each male specimen. These advances came without challenge or conflict. There was a collective sense of subordination. My claim as chieftess came naturally; unspoken like everything else.
The differences were all stronger.
I strode longer.
I saw opportunities easier.
I understood, showing one to use his axe to break open the shell again. Another man I touched around his hairy arms, showing him the technique to stretch out the net, both of us glowing with excitement when three fish came flopping back into our arms. His eyes met mine, our bodies aching with instinct.
He moved forward, wanting me.
I held up a hand.
He stopped, his eyes burned. I pointed down and we gathered up the fish, stopping the sea from swallowing our sustenance.
He smiled, wanting them now.
I pulled at the net, and he tried again.
Soon, we would have enough for days.
We would share everything hauled back from the ocean. Two women kept the fire, older and tired, resisting until I had shown them how to manipulate the embers.
They took to it now, roasting the catch, spreading the meal until everyone sat stuffed, staring at the naked stars.
He was the first one, reaching for me once the heavy feeling subsided, allowing something else to grow…
He was not quite like me, but close enough for our coupling. Like the rest of his men, his hair hid defined ridges, the strands thick, long, and dark just like our skin. His hand swept the curls away from my face, then reached lower, cupping my bare breasts.
There were sounds of others starting their own endeavors, absent shame or reluctance, sharing each other by the dying fire. The moans, more like hoots, came caterwauling around the camp. The other females bent over, presenting themselves like animals, ripe and ready to be mounted…
I didn’t.
I lay there, pulling his shoulders close, reaching for him before he could penetrate me. My nimble fingers guided his length inside of me, reaching for him with my hips. I lay there, legs wrapped around him, squeezing him deep inside.
He thrust into me, comfortable now, finding his rhythm and reaching just the right spot. I screamed, drawing the attention of the pack, sensing them stopping. They saw him, twisting and turning, pushing down inside of me until he could no longer control himself.
His seed spilled out with that last frantic push, flooding me until I was filled.
Only I wanted more.
So did the next male, and the next…
We had no partners. No claim other than these temporary partnerships when two would combine. There were favorites, special bonds, but no issue with another taking his place.
Full and stuffed, I moaned again, letting out a higher pitched cry that stopped the others from coupling, at first from concern…
And then in unadulterated lust, watching the new position as I pulled my legs up to help him drive deeper inside of me. He pounded inside my dripping opening, using me until he finished, leaving me satisfied and still wanting more.
Another…
Again and again, until so many used me that I knew most of the tribe that night. There were no hard looks, no jealousy, nothing except for the stares of excitement.
Men who finished inside of me returned to their former partners, some finding themselves stiff again and sharing a second opportunity with eager females.
I was at the center of it all, emanating pleasure until the last drop of cum filled my sore and shared hole. Sitting up, a pool of semen sliding out into the grass, I stopped the next comer, who wordlessly gave his attention to the next willing partner.
Exhausted, every piece of me spent and used, I lay back into the soft earth, letting nature nestle me in its embrace.
One with everything.
In that transcendent moment, it came to me, a tiny whisper of new thought.
I spoke, the sound a word to no one else.
My name, foreign, an epiphany, known first to me, then shared through my life. Spoken in a thousand different tongues over as many generations, starting here, said only in my own head.
Years would pass before I heard it from another’s tongue, first by my children, then theirs, across the ages until my descendants numbered the sand on our beach.
Eve.
Mother of Humanity.
***
“What… what happened?”
I stammered, the last thing I remembered was being her, my tired and contented eyes fluttering to a close while a grandchild held my hand.
I could now see the elderly man in front of me, only something about him seemed wrong. Like he was just a projection from my own expectations.
“Over eons and eternities, we have made this offer to countless creatures who have sustained life until the end of any other possibility. They found us here, staying to see every moment of their species played out again and again.”
“But where did I go?”
“The mind adapts to its environment, following the path laid out before it.”
“So I won’t ever know who I am?”
The man paused. His face contorted into a ponderous expression that didn’t quite fit, as though flexing through a mask and trying to make it match a thought.
“It has not been tried.”
“Could I?”
“Yes…” the man said. “Where?”
“Earth,” I said tentatively. “I’ve only read about it, but…”
***
I was on Earth of Old.
When the sun and its king still shone and dwarfed those ancient and dying stars, billions of years before my birth. And I knew above everything else that my entire life, my family’s name, depended on the sullen and drooping face behind those black kinks and curls.
His wig adorned the temples of his crown, his every possession arrayed out as a vast and opulent allure of his pristine presence. His eyes took in my breath, even as they cast themselves towards the heavens, above my acknowledgment. His nose hooked in something so much superior than a sneer.
Just being here, standing in his presence, his palace - it was the work of an entire lifetime for a name so sullied, ousted from the inner circle since the ascension, scraping and saving for every guinea that pushed up my breasts so visibly in the corset. The elaborate evening gown made each step a calculated consideration, every breath a labored bosom heavy with effort.
But the air had nearly vanished completely with my first vision of Versailles.
Marble and stone polished white. Statues and saints adorned and abreast every space, the water glittering like gold in the bright summer sky. Its columns and arches overawed, my eyes begged to linger and only good sense and my gentle upbringing kept me from openly exclaiming my easily discernible astonishment.
I tried to belong.
And found myself wanting, wilting under the cruel and callous gaze of his majesty, unable to please despite every courtly attempt.
We needed his favor.
The debts had become something only pardonable by wealth and power beyond our understanding. I was the last asset my father held close. Favor as the king’s or another’s mistress might bring us back, granting my brother a reprieve from anything other than a life in ecclesiastical solitude and the end of a lineage traced all the way back to Charlemagne.
Immersed in this world, a tiny whisper pricked in the corner of my mind, reminding me only here and again this was only an echo, an event where I would be only a spectator. She reminded me it was all an illusion, even if it was easier to believe that this life belonged to me so that I could recreate what always was and would be.
The stranger standing across space said only a single thing.
My real name.
Bowed, awaiting my dismissal, a single tear that did not belong to this life ran down my painted face.
For her.
His majesty leaned over to whisper into the bended ear of another sycophant, this one with more success and sway than me, leaving me waiting. Each second struck against my social standing, creating whispers through glove covered hands. It did not take long for me to blush, becoming an object of cautionary scorn trapped there in my second sewn gown, the converted cumulation of my family’s scattered wealth.
The sniveling courtier stepped forward, sneering through pursed lips as he spoke.
“Louis the Great, Louis our God-Given King, his most Catholic majesty has tired of hearing from the Motier family and their fortune. In an act of benevolence, our great prince has determined to restore his patronage, reduced to a tenth of their former lands.”
My heart both sank and swelled, my bosoms threatening to spill out before I calmed my chest. It undoubtedly wasn’t even enough to pay off my father’s creditors.
But it was a start.
And a future for Eduoard.
I curtsied, preparing to leave, only to hear the sharp rebuke from the king’s mouthpiece.
“However… his majesty deeply resents the presumption that he would select a consort so beneath his station. He feels the urge as the headpin of society to remind your family of their place… permanently.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” I stammered. “My humblest apologies.”
I hadn’t known what I agreed to until the troupe came out dressed in intimation regula, their trumpets announcing the entrance of a pretend king, youthful and vibrant, a most handsome and flattering representation of the decrepit thing giggling from his throne.
I swallowed hard, knowing now exactly what he meant and noticing the growing glances from the others invited to Versailles. These debaucheries, the kinds earning damnation for the commoner could be excused by the clergy for a convenient cost.
Like every king, lechery in excessive proved the wages of his sin, a price Louis XIV could easily purchase.
Just as he bought me.
There was no choice, no resisting, even as they pushed me forward. The play had ended, the songs done, and the rest of the actors and harlots had already begun, returning to their places without any clothing.
Except for him.
The faux Louis stood wearing nothing from the waist down, his black wig and ruffled shirt hiked up to display a dangling spector, his role chosen no doubt for the impressive size.
He reached out, a long finger pulling towards me, and I took that first tentative step.
The next came easier, largely because of the thought that if I should be so forced to bed a Louis, this one seemed best. He was strong, lean, and muscular from a life of travel and adventure, rippling underneath the frilly lace sleeves.
And… I admitted to myself with a sense of sinful shame, his manhood was something to be admired, maybe even worshipped after the pagan fashion.
It did not take much for me to dampen beneath the layers, less for me to submit to his strong and overwhelming embrace. His mouth mauled mine, probing my defenses with his tongue to find that I held no barrier against his every advance.
He tore at the clothes, ruining them, but these had already served their purpose. My breasts heaved free, for a moment the public humiliation bringing me careening back to the wicked judgment of this pitiless peerage.
This king would defile me, taking with my virginity any chance of social advancement. For the rest of my days, the court would jeer in memory of me stripped naked and ravaged in front of their eyes, only now…
I forgot everything but the feel of his fingers dipping inside of my aching sex. Unashamed, I thrust my hips forward, pulling him deeper inside of me. He added another until both were glistening, then turned me around, my breasts falling down in front of me like the pendulous swinging orbs of a soothsayer. Entranced, the court and the king watched while the pretend potentate adjusted himself, finding the right position to push into my opening, already drenched with desire.
He held my by the hips, grinding into me as I nearly collapsed with uncontrollable joy. Stark naked, bare in front of those who in another life might have been considered confidants and friends, we fornicated like animals. He drove into me, pushing me down with the force of each thrust until I was balancing forward with my palms, barely able to keep myself upright while he pounded into my once virginal hole.
It hurt, but the pain was only a trifle compared to the rapturous joy that accompanied the speed of his rhythm. I was crying out with joy, exclaiming my wanton willingness when pleasure unlike anything known to me encompassed every single touch of sinful flesh.
I shook, quaked as though compelled by the call of the Almighty, unable to even think as the part above my thighs clenched against his overwhelming girth.
He pulled me up, grabbing my bosom, then turned me around. Easily he hoisted me into a practice position, holding my by the legs and inserting him back inside my dripping flesh. Our lips met, and I bounced back, riding against his hips.
Again and again, we moved into each other, unconsciousness to the other couplings, knowing the other actors and actresses only through the calls and cries in that same unrepentant sin.
It was just us, the rest forgotten in this forced embrace.
His arms held me around the rump, pulling me close. Well-practiced and well-endowed, his manhood brought me again and again to the peak of carnal delight, until he spent himself into a well-worn harlot.
With his seed falling from my legs, he let me drop, helping me to my feet and then escorting me behind the troupe’s curtain to find an ill-fitting outfit to cover my returning shame.
My family rose again after the king’s death.
Eduoard’s grandson became a general. Sequestered and safe, I lived long enough to see little Gilbert, now Marquis de Lafayette, deployed to the Americas.
And even when my hands became too sore and tired for embroideries, they still sometimes drifted down beneath my habit at the thought of that night with the king.
***
“What about our friends, our families… what about…”
“We offer you paradise and perdition. You can see it all. But nothing can change…”
Then he paused to adjust the statement.
“Nothing of consequence.”
“I don’t care if it destroys some stupid fucking timeline! I want her safe…”
“You can see her again, but it will be the same.”
I thought about living it all over, knowing the tragedy would play out in all the same choreographed missteps.
I didn’t know that I could take that.
The guide seemed to sense my uncertainty.
“Your kind spread out through the stars, knowing thousands of worlds. But your species seems to struggle with knowing their true desires.”
***
I ran without any thought to where I would go. Even in a battlecruiser, cargo room came at a premium. Still, my boots slapped against the empty corridor, retreating from the melee as the aliens raced behind me.
And worse, these monsters were allied with other humans. I remembered seeing the purple-haired vixen in her skin-tight silver dress giving our captain the command to surrender.
The voice had been so calm, like she didn’t care what happened.
We weren’t a threat. They had breached the hull, easily traversing the cold vacuum of space. Our cannons, torpedoes, even our hand lasers were completely ineffectual, the beams disintegrating on contact with the sex-crazed creatures.
They advanced at a steady trot, the four-legged bulbous beasts ignoring every attack to rip apart the clothes of each member of the crew, their oversized, canine-like form swirling up into dozens of different tentacles, changing so suddenly from fleshy purple and red direwolves into spiraling spindles that invaded every orifice.
I ran, dropping my blaster, unable to bring myself to look at what was happening.
“Gwendolyn, stop!” the woman called. “I’ve killed half the galaxy to find you.”
The voice echoed through the ship’s loudspeakers.
But another reverberated back in my mind, reminding me of my real name.
The separation suddenly became clear, creating a difference between me and the body I inhabited. Even though the time-lapsed was infinitesimal, millions instead of billions of years, the technology remained much more familiar compared to the ancient and pastoral past.
Here was another ship, sleek and superior to the rusting bucket we had scraped together in another life, when escape seemed so much more impossible.
I didn’t need to rely as much on Gwendolyn’s knowledge. I had an innate frame of reference without the reliance on instinct.
That… and something seemed strange about her memory.
Pieces were missing.
But there wasn’t time to make a full analysis, not with the breath of the alien dogs closing around my ankles. Adrenaline pumped like radioactive nitrogen, but the beasts were too fast, their slimy tentacles closing around my ankles.
I tripped, pulled down onto the plastisteel corridor, the tendrils now coiled around my ankles. I looked back and stared back in open-jawed horror as the mutt revealed three tendrils pouncing from its open maw. Two of the tongue-like tentacles spread my legs, the other turned my uniform into tatters.
The long, otherworldly tongue them moved upwards, it’s hot breath against my quivering cunt as the rough and flat-edged tentacle lapped up at my sex.
I shuddered.
Not in horror.
Not even in surprise.
The pleasure raced up my taut stomach, untangling the knots and letting familiar euphoria rise up to my diminutive breasts. Like the rest of the crew, man and woman alike, I submitted immediately, wiggling back my midsection, using my ass to push up against the flapping tentacle.
It struck my clit with a precise rhythm, twisting and turning with its feelers until I began to climax, writhing on the floor as a frenzied flush of orgasmic ecstasy unlocked my mind to what had been blocked by the human collective.
Violet Nall.
My Queen consort.
My purple-haired lover stood over me, watching me guiding the tongue in between my lips as a reflex. The alien panted heavily, until the tongue nearly transformed into a stiffening cock to penetrate deep inside of me. Violet beamed down from her shapely two meters, watching me moan while her alien pet pushed his cock deep inside of me.
“I knew you would remember.”
She knelt, her hands stroking the platinum blonde out of my eyes. It felt so much like my original body, but the memories came rushing back. The first contact with the aliens inside of me, the rebellion, and our reign over Epsilon 7, all of it came rushing back.
Along with another realization.
I had not been the first to find eternity.
She never knew I wasn’t Gwendolyn, bending down to kiss me as the tentacle turned expertly inside of my pussy. Her hands were on my breasts, tweaking the nipples while the creature explored the other orifices. One of the other protruding tendrils shrank to no more than a few centimeters, tickling my tighter rosebud like a tiny tongue. It pushed into me, secreting a white translucent goo that lubricated the entrance so that I only let out a tiny gasp as the tentacle monster used both of my holes.
They grew inside of me, both stretching until each hole was stuffed. Violet moved her mouth from mine, my groans and cries no longer muffled. Her hand reached out and guided the next cock inside of my mouth, again with that delighted smirk. I sucked greedily, letting a dozen swirling arms lift me from the deck and suspense me in the air.
One by one, the alien cocks came inside of me, but not before bringing about orgasms that transcended any semblance of human consciousness. Double penetrated, I came again and again, filled to the brim with alien ejaculate that never seemed to stop, drummed into by thick and monstrous dick until I was completely covered in its inhuman seed.
Dripping and cum drunk, barely able to stand, something else pushed into me. And before I left this body, her voice rang out in my mind, kind and compassionate.
I’m sorry, but this next part is private...
`*****
“You are not alone. In the space between there can still be new moments.”
“I have to see her again. Even if we…”
The thought stopped, too terrible to consider. I would have to see her leave all again. Our lives together reduced to a single blinking green dot disappearing all too quickly from my instruments.
“You won’t come back.”
“I have to choose? Eternity and never seeing her again?”
He seemed to sigh.
“You can always return. None do. Those clinging to the past relive it in endless repetition, never experiencing the next moment.”
“But Gwendolyn..”
“The Queen remains the single exception.”
I swallowed hard, trying to blink back the tears. Heaven, the afterlife, whatever it could be called, whatever could be lived.
Wasn’t that her?
“Would I know?”
I didn’t need to ask. It didn’t really matter. I think I understood what he meant at the end. It was so easy to let each moment become tinged through our eventual tragedy.
I remember crying when I first saw her, then thinking that it might be different.
She was slouched over a bar a decade before the last white dwarf burned out its remaining hydrogen. And despite knowing everything, I followed my last path as though even my footsteps were illuminated. Happy to get caught in the same hustle, waiting to wake up tasting my own blood in her sickbay.
I started on the ship as a scullion, knowing nothing but Eros, glad like so many others at the fleeting hope of miraculous energy out among the endless black expanse. In a few months, I had learned the basics, piloting, navigating, whatever anyone would teach me. Just some starving station urchin, then slowly something, someone she could want.
I waited patiently, knowing she would find me in the engine room covered in grease. This time I washed my hands, avoiding the stains on her only well-worn medical uniform.
Waiting had been the worst, wondering if it would all turn out the same, if she would still wipe my hands with the same cloth, letting them clasp around each other while our eyes met…
Instead, she wiped a smudge from my face. Then, just like before, our lips met.
The coming together, after torturous waiting, times wanting to scream at her that we were together and not to waste any of our precious time! Then all of those empty emotions from the last trip evaporated into the ethos. It all flooded back, filling me with the same familiar joy that could have been equaled in any other lifetime.
Hands reached out, exploring breasts, hers so much more expansive. Glowing, I knew tonight I would lie on them, feeling her heartbeat with each breath.
She kissed, biting my lip, then doing the same to my neck. Easily, she threw me against the plastisteel wall, my legs wrapping around her, this time never wishing she would use an artificial phallus to fuck me against the engine block.
I only wanted our first time again.
And so it was perfect, teased out through the prolonged wait.
We each unbuttoned my coverall, not even bothering to pull them past my ankles. She sank to her knees, her brown hair up in an eastern bun, easy to grasp to direct her tongue’s movement around my clit.
Just like before
My lips trembled, my hips jutting back against her mouth, hands clasped tight around her head before a gushing orgasm overtook my petite frame. In small squirts, the undeniable product of my pleasure flooded down her chin and onto her breasts.
And then it was her turn, so I jumped at her like an ancient cat, pouncing on her squatting body until she lay splayed out in front of me. She undid her top, and I worked down quickly, suckling at her nipples, then kissing down her navel, never giving her the time to stop my descent.
Nearly three lifetimes, and it was all I needed.
No matter what eternity had to offer, it paled in comparison to her perfect pussy. Only I couldn’t wait for her to remove the uniform, my mouth pressing against the threadbare pants, tongue penetrating just enough through the fabric.
I reached up, squeezing at her tits almost absently as my mouth went to her sex. I didn’t care that it was covered. Like the time before, I devoured it, like tasting my treat still enclosed in its vacuum seal.
Again, I brought her hips bucking to orgasmic bliss, only this was only another beginning.
Her hands reached those buttons, pulling the soaked pants down so that my tongue could bury into her musky scent, sweaty and salty from the conditions, and still so immaculately sweet to my taste.
Without the restriction of any garments, I knew her body even more instinctively than before, the practice of the next decade already ingrained into every twist and motion.
Again she came, and like before, I found myself resting in her bunk, never to leave until the end of everything.
This time, I tried to make every moment matter, refusing to let any sadness into these fleeting moments of life. I softened the past here and there, only the little tears I thought safe to mend. But even the fights, the tears, the heart-ache, those hardest hitting bolts came couched in the knowledge that each instance of sorrow would soon pass, replaced by the unfailing love that lasted across the eons.
Except for the one unavoidable end.
And having had the woman I loved ripped from me, it was so easy to love this second chance. I could see my future, a mirror of my past, repeated again forever…
Only I loved our lives so much, how could I let it happen again?
In these last days, my happiness slowly diminished, until the finality came after so many more tears and condolences. She was so kind, so patient, and at least my growing expression of grief delayed the decision by one merciful day.
One last reprieve for the condemned.
For a moment, I thought it might be different, until she said the same things all again, leaving me to question if I could really say goodbye like this, again and again, eternally.
“At least one of us might get there… I’d rather think, at the end, that the last person worth loving made it. Could you give me that?”
“No!”
I yelled it, my voice quivering at the change.
I shouldn’t have been able to even say it, let alone stop our separation. But something in her smile let me know I had. She reached out, holding my hand.
The being’s voice echoed across the eons, audible only in my ears.
Nothing of consequence.
“We’ll both stay on the same course. I want us together, whatever happens...” I said, wishing it was more.
She nodded.
I kissed her, holding her close, knowing that whatever happened, it wouldn’t matter.
Except to us.
Lauryn
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