It’s the year 2098, Earth has successfully made contact with other planets, and civilization has progressed, with shared technology. Alas, in the long search and contact, not all were neutral or ally.

Some inner-city bar, late at night:

“Hey, hottie. Don’t see women like you here, much.”

A dark skinned woman, crimson hair in two large afro puffs leaned against the wall and waited for the bathroom. Busty, curvy, rather thick, yet strong. In gray knee length sneakers, loose fitting orange pedal pushers, band shirt and long gray, orange, black plaid shirt with three quarter sleeves, a black nylon choker with a satin steel padlock on it. She looked up from her phone at him, eyes, one gray, one yellow looked up with bored annoyance.

“You won’t see anymore, either, shorty. The men her are uncouth and too thirsty.” She straightened up. “You boys, are gonna make the booze bring out the worst in me.”

“Whew ... I wouldn’t mind climbing to your peaks,” another said.

“That’s what I’m sayin’, playa!”

“This isn’t how you get a woman. Even a hooker wouldn’t tolerate this bullshit. F•©k off.”

“Spicy.”

Just then a woman walked out of the bathroom in purple hot pants that had a zipper that traced all the way down between her legs, clear thigh high heeled boots, what looked like a net bikini top with sewn in dollar sign nipple coverings under a seemingly too small clear pink jacket, with solid colored cargo pockets. Her blonde hair up in two cubical buns.

“Oh, I love that outfit,” she said.

“Thanks girl. Love yours, too. I got this from Madam Harlot’s... easy access for your man.” She turned and revealed the zipper stopped at the rear of her waistband.

“My bush would get caught all in that. But I still want it.”

“Ouch,” she said with a cackle.

“Damn, can I have a peek,” one asked.

“You got a two for one special?”

“You two aren’t my clientele.”

“We got money.”

“You could have all the money, and I’d still say no, now f•©k off, like she told you.” She walked away.

She guffawed. “Well ... at least your hands free,” she yelled as she went in the bathroom. “If you children are still by this door, I’m going to feed you each others dicks.”

They seemed to be gone, when she stepped out and went back to the bar.

“That was my seat.”

A light skinned man looked up at her. He wore black mid calf boots with baggy canvas cargo pants with several decorative straps tucked in them, a tight red t-shirt with three quarter length sleeves under a patched and decorated black denim vest. Black armored knuckle fingerless gloves His long dreadlocks restrained with a neon green bandana.

“My bad.”

Just above his thin rectangular lensed sunglasses, she saw his green and gray eyes look up at her.

“You can have it back.”

She smiled. “I can just sit next to you, you know?”

“Yeah, ya could, I guess.”

The bartender walked up to her as she took that stool.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The man checked her out, and went back to his phone.

“Not gonna shoot your shot, like the rest?”

“Nah ... not my style. Women aren’t toys, and all that bullshit guys do, and can’t take a no, annoys me.”

“Uh-huh. So you’re the only guy in here not interested. Aren’t you special.”

“I’m not special. And I would be interested...”

“If ... you weren’t ... taken? Or I was your type?”

“Not taken, and you are my type.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

The bartender sat her drink down, and she took a drink.

“But you’re not gonna try?”

“Do you want me to, after turning down everybody else?”

“Maybe.”

He chuckled. “I’m not good at that pick-up line shit, I just be honest.”

“Then be honest.”

“I think you’re sexy, and you got this aura that you don’t tolerate bullshit, and you’re real. I wouldn’t mind hooking up with you, but I’d rather try and date you.”

“What if I just wanted—”

“Hey man ... she doesn’t need a loser like you, she needs a real man,” some guy butted in.”

“You again, shorty?”

“I’m not short where it matters. Got more than this skinny boy.”

“I doubt it, and not when that whiskey dick happens,” he said.

“I can handle my drinkin’, and I ain’t drank as much as you!”

“You haven’t, yet... I’m still more sober than you, and you’re shitfaced.”

“I’m sober enough to kick your scrawny ass!”

“Sure, drunky.”

She noticed how calm and stoic he was.

“I’m not drunk. Keep running your mouth, and I’ll show you what a man is.”

“I’m not running my mouth, you are. All that bullshit bravado. I’m trying to talk to this woman right here.”

“And I had her first! I was almost in, then you come and try to jump in on my game!”

“Dude. She shot you down and started talking to me.”

“I can’t stand arrogant f•©ks like you!”

“So you hate yourself?”

She giggled.

“You wanna go, mother f•©ker‽”

“Dude...”

“Shorty, you’re ruining my fun. Piss off.”

“See‽ Okay buddy, let’s go!”

He sighed. She stood up and pushed the man.

“Bitch! I’ll beat him, you, and take you home!”

She grabbed his hand when he rushed them both, and crushed it, flipped him on his back as he yelled, and stomped her foot in his crotch.

“You’re getting on my nerves, you weak, little man,” she said as she leaned on her foot.

“Muh dick!”

“Leave me the f•©k alone! Wanna f•©k somebody ... go f•©k yourself!”

Two bouncers walked up as she stepped back from him and hauled him to his feet.

“You see that‽ She hit me and probably broke my hand!”

“She didn’t hit you, and you’ve been a problem most of the night, buddy. Go sleep it off.”

They watched them throw the guy out the door.

“So ... as I was saying; what if I wanted to just f•©k you, and then date?”

He looked at her and raised his eyebrow.

A few drinks later, they rushed in his apartment, she slammed the door and locked it. They briefly stood eye to eye, before she kissed him desperately. He grabbed her thighs, lifted her up, she squealed in his mouth. Once in the bedroom they crashed on the bed.

“Damn these shoes,” she yelled as she pulled the velcro straps and untied both sets of shoe strings.

“Right.” He unbuckled the straps on his boots.

He pulled his pants down, she pulled her shirt and bra off, her big breast flopped down, then went for her capris. He pulled his shirt off.

“Oh my f•©k,” she gasped.

He was rather slim and muscular, more than he looked at first. He saw her thick thighs, that hid nice muscles behind the fat, flat, yet pudgy stomach, and well defined arms.

She looked at his member and guffawed. “He was so, so wrong ... please do your worst to me, with that thing.”

Her soft mounds heavy in his hand, while he suckled graciously. She hissed and for once allowed herself to submit. His tongue traveled the canyon between her peaks up to her neck, through fluttered eyelids, she saw the muscles in his arms reveal more of themselves as he braces himself over her. She was teased below, his member brushed her lower lips and spread her dew among her thin bush. Her loins begged to be penetrated, hips lifted, coerced him to come inside.

i”You need it, like I need it?”

“Bad.”

“Mmm-hmm!”

He partook in her chocolate peaks once more, down the pass between to her stomach, lower and lower. The swirl of his tongue in her navel had her lungs snatch sharply at the air around her. His lips kissed their way to her fertile valley, bites stolen from her thighs.

“T-teasing!”

“Savoring,” he corrected.

Deeper in the valley, he tasted ambrosia from her natural brook. Her back arched with a sharp gasp.

He looked up. “Blacker the berry...”

She pushed his head back down. “Sweeter the juice, baby!”

His tongue wandered around inside her sweet chocolate cherry pit, and she melted around him. She sang like an exhausted choir. Strong hands gripped her thighs and pushed them forward, her body writhed, his tongue wrote her own copy of the Declaration Of Independence.

“F•©k,” she cried out.

Her legs fought against his restraint, forces she never felt welled up inside of her, noises fell out of her mouth, and those forces raised her core temperature. His arms couldn’t hold her back, anymore, instead they pulled them to rest upon his shoulders, and held them there. He soon found himself in a war to hold the gates open. She thought her body tried to defy her, as her legs squeezed and pushed. He held steadfast, hands on her hips. She started to overload and it was all purged audibly loudly, with all the oxygen she had. Legs fell away, body limp, he looked up at her while she gasped for air.

“That was the stuff,” she panted and looked over her heaving breast.

“There’s always more where that came from.”

“Better ... be. Now...”

“Now...”

He crawled up her body, he felt stiffer than her ever felt, or figured could be. She reached and with a firm grasp, made sure there was no loitering outside. Her growl was guttural as he slowly and forcibly breached deep inside her constricted space.

“Are you...?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “Feel special yet? The first to explore the natural and uncultivated, she asked with a tinge of pain.

She wrapped her legs around him.

“Feels good.”

“And don’t go easy, I can take it.”

“I somehow believe you.”

“Then soil my garden.”

She felt his whole length inside, unwanted relief when he pulled out, but so far, and the thrust seemed to push the air from her lungs, he was forceful, each impact felt to her as if he went deeper, that his equipment dug and bore deeper with each pass. To him it felt as if he was being strangled, every stroke was harder than keeping her interest in him at the bar.

Their lips met again, she wasn’t bothered about tasting a bit of herself on him. His slow and hard moves paused while they kissed. Her hips begged, moved, didn’t want stillness, or tranquility. Niether did his, it was like the beginning of a slow dance. Their kiss broke for a breath of fresh air, while they stared at each other. He reared back and the sudden impact knocked a guttural wind out of her. A burning union ignited, she held him close, the temperature in his bedroom seemed to shift and rise with them.

Every thrust gave involuntary vocal feedback, every hit felt painfully great. Sweat poured from the both of them. It was all rhythmic, the tension started to fade with her virginity. She didn’t mind the tickle of his breath in her ear. Things got easier for him and his speed increased.

“Uh-huh! Oh! Mm-hmm, mm-hmm,” she cried out.

He was too focused on breathing, the only other sound was the ringing of her phone, and the sounds of sex. Her juices overflowed loudly with the clash of their crotches. His hands slipped under her, the next thing she knew, he was on his knees, she was lifted, what consciousness still there, tightened her grip.

“Oh, wha—” was all she mustered, once her full weight was speared by him.

Her head jolted back, her eyes rolled back from the shock. Twice dropped before she welled up and discharged all the pleasure her body just experienced, with guttural yelping. A bit of clarity hit for just a moment, that he had little problem picking her up, she felt his muscles flex. He chuffed away, she licked him from neck to ear, her lips found his again.

“Show off.”

“It is one of few things I’m good at.”

“Not like I have somebody to compare. But I don’t think anybody else would work.”

He chuckled.

“Think you’re showin’ off.”

“No, not rea—”

She smirked, her feet hit the bed, and the next thing he knew, he was on his back, a set of weights on his face. Their connection unbroken, her at the helm, he guided her motion.

“My turn,” she huffed.

“Couldn’t hear you under these—not that I’m complaining.”

Her body moved like waves on a shore. He embraced the double eclipse, welcomed the moment to suckle. It was his turn to see her muscles flex, to experience her weight bare down, her hips grind. A strong woman, but her voice was rather meek through their ecstasy. As much as he enjoyed his meal, the chill, as it were, brought on by the space between them, he didn’t. Full embraced was desired, he pulled her down. Soon they ebbed and flowed together.

She had never felt such a pleasure ... always avoided it, wasn’t allowed to. A grown woman. She felt the bubbling again, the pressure of him inside seemed to stir things up and push them out. She knew off sex, read about it, watched it. The more it bubbled, the more she wanted it, more she wanted him. The conversation, the outlook, the... body. The more swelled, the more she moved.

“F•©k ... I needed this,” she said.

“M-me too.”

Her movements quick and forceful. He too started to feel that familiar, though rare sensation. They were on fire and something felt different, had for a while, there wasn’t current brain power to ponder it. He felt the working muscles concealed in her thighs. Her jounce and rebound was heavy, something else to distract from the phone, that lustful smacking.

Her breath was deep and shallow, sharp. Like a capacitor ready to release. Both lost in desire, the want to carry on. For a woman so strong, she sounded so meek. Desperate. Her movements slowly became jerky, he took the whimpering as a signal, two of them; she was close and her body had trouble doing both. She gripped his shoulders, he pushed into her. She yelled, it all washed over her, she couldn’t stop, each thrust seemed to carry another wave. Her eyes flickered, body tensed at the peak of climax. His body seemed to be on the same autopilot, his thrust hard, rugged, he blurted out grunts as he purged himself in her. His release hit him as hard as it hit her. Aftershocks jerked them both as what lingered faded.

Her body went limp, their lungs fought for air, they lay there and marinated, most of the alcohol in their systems burnt and boiled away. Slowly regular blood circulation resumed and he became unplugged.

“DNA recorded, coded, and stored,” was the message in her head.

“I haven’t ... f•©ked like that ... in a long time.”

“I’ve never done it.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“I’ve never been so exhausted ... I can barely move.”

“Same. I feel like you drained me.”

She giggled.

“You know what I mean.”

She rolled off of him. “I know. I think we just made a real connection ... one I can’t let go.”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t feel anything?”

“Now that you mention—”

“Is sex always like this?”

“ ... no...”

“Sometimes?”

‘When everything’s aligned.”

“Good enough. A few first for me, tonight.”

“Other than the sex ... what else?”

“A bar ... getting ... buzzed? Drunk? Being hit on, turning down scum. Picking up a cute hunk.”

“Wow. That’s such an archaic slang.” He chuckled.

“I like old pop culture! Any chance I get, I look through the archives. If time machines existed, I’d want to go back ... wouldn’t you?”

“Perhaps. I guess it’d be interesting.”

“A simpler time ... when aliens were just debated over being ... myth or fact. No aliens for me ... to constantly ... I could live for a while.”

“Huh? Aliens for you to what?”

He looked over to find her asleep, and yawned himself.

He awoke to her phone ringing through the silence, and her on his chest. Her eyes opened as he groaned.

“Morning,” she said with a smile.

“Pretty sure it’s afternoon.”

“Then afternoon.” She kissed him. “I feel weird.”

She rolled over a d off the bed to get her phone.

“Add a hangover to your list of first.”

She answered her phone on the first new ring. “Yeah‽ What‽”

He looked at her, she really was a vision of beauty to him.

“I don’t think I want this to be her first one night stand, and my umpteenth,” he thought.

“I needed a break, and ... It’s fine ... I know my job, I can still do it ... I gotta live too, ya know? It’s not fair that I don’t get to be a regular person, sometimes ... So‽ I refuse to work my life away, I am a grown woman ... yeah, well, I’ll be there when I’m ready ... what danger, do you know who you’re talking to? Nobody even knows me as a person, just as... look! I’ll be in when I’m f•©king ready ... we will talk about me having my private time, later ... no, whenever I get there.” She hung up.