Secrets

It wasn’t how she’d gotten her position.  Carolyn Fry had worked hard, competing against male students that had the luck of the gene pool.  Men outnumbered women pilots ten to one.  It wasn’t sexism, it was just how things worked.

The Hunter Gratzner was no palatial cruise ship, but it was a job.  A job piloting and she had gotten it fairly, by working for it. 

She would quit eventually, and probably file a complaint for harassment when she did, but not yet.  The paychecks were adding up, her savings growing.  Soon.

That soon wouldn’t help her now.

Passengers out for the forty-plus week trip.  Most of the crew members went next.  Leaving just three, the docking pilot, the navigations officer and the captain.  Owens would be busy with the nav. charts for another hour at least.

It was no surprise to Fry that Captain was waiting for her in the shadows at the entry to the cryo chamber. 

“This is a long one.”

Fry wasn’t sure if he was speaking of the trip or what he had for her.

He didn’t wait for an invitation.  He never did.

Captain was in no way attractive.  He was a man in a position of relative power and believed what he took was his due.  Nothing to compete with and therefore no image to work on.  So saying, personal grooming and hygiene were things he might get around to doing once a day.

These were things Fry attempted to ignore as he pursued her, waiting for a solid object to trap her between it and him.

She wore a jumpsuit.  It wasn't a barrier to the single-minded captain.  The zipper tugged down and he pushed the heavy material off her shoulders while his mouth and beard irritated her neck, the extent of his foreplay.

His hands moved constantly, pushing, groping, tugging, holding, always working to get what he wanted or keep it where he wanted it.

Jumpsuit out of the way, he undid her belt, yanking at the closure to force that zipper down as well.  Rough hands slid within, gripping the softness of her ass hard.  She gasped and he gave her a moan and a chuckle, thinking she was getting into it.

His mouth thankfully left her so he could bend to force her pants down.  He mumbled to himself when he realized she still wore boots.  He'd have to remove at least one of them, or do her from behind, which she knew he didn't prefer.  He chose to remove the boot.

A few seconds of relative peace.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on shutting this out.  This was just an unsavory part of the job, one more injustice piled on women pilots.  But it wasn't forever, and she'd survive this.

He was huffing sighs when he finally got her boot off.  She hadn't made it easy, refusing to lift her weight for long seconds until he'd finally just knocked her knee out from under her.

Rougher now, short nails scraped her skin as he yanked down on her pants and the suit she still wore on her lower half.  His boot stomped down on the cuff at her ankle, and most of her foot.  Fingers digging into her thigh were enough of an encouragement to lift her leg free of the pant's leg.

"Fuckin' women, always playing games," he growled as he stood, forcing her back again.

He dragged a hand over her exposed pussy, spreading her and grinding his fingers in painfully.  She preferred it.  The stimulation, while painful, did cause some juices to flow. 

Mouth back, feeling sticky, and making her practice matching his inhales so she didn't have to breath in his exhaled air. 

Hands down.  She felt her wetness on his fingers as he gripped her thighs.  He wasn't strong enough to hold her and fuck her, but was getting good at squatting beneath her.  One leg still down for support, her legs forced apart by him between them.

With so little lubrication and preparation it would have been a painful act if he were more well endowed.  His small size was barely felt.

He huffed against her, all his concentration on the work he was doing.  At least he was no longer slobbering on her.

It lasted no longer than a single minute.  He was grunting and sweaty before he finished.  Of course, she'd gotten good at making it as uncomfortable for him as possible.

He stepped back as soon as he was finished, leaving her to fix her own clothes, which she did as quickly as possible. 

"Set my cryo a bit early," he told her as he headed for the door.  She still worked on shoving her foot in her boot.  "Always like a go before and after a long sleep."

Fry huffed and stomped down into her boot, telling herself she had to get out of this at their next stop.