The edges of the washcloth tickled the hair around my cock as she began to slowly stroke me up and down.“So much hair is ugly, young one. We will ne...d to do something about that. But, oh, your Lund! (Hindu for penis)” Her voice was a low murmur as if she was afraid of being overheard, almost as if she was talking with herself. I lay trembling under her touch, answering her with only low moans as her hand continued to glide up and down my ridge shaft. The roughness of the washcloth, the strength. Where a conventional view screen would be in a Confederate or Imperial ship, there was nothing, apart from blank sockets, where now and again, cables might attach themselves. The Pilot saw whatever it needed from interfacing with the various scanner arrays that were in place throughout the hull of the ship. With a flick of one finger, which caused a wire to detach itself from one socket and to reattach to another, the Pilot pulled the Ship out of StarJump and back into normal space time.. More

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