A Futa Futcha

As big as the ship was, it only had a total of five crew ...there was Justine, an experienced Captain with hair like liquid gold, Simone, the raven haired navigator ...Katalina, the comms officer with a fetish for piercings and who marked each time the ship made landfall by getting some or other part of her perfectly proportioned personage pierced. There was also Martinique who was ships security ...though it was often said that she only ever took on that position so she could abuse it and smuggle stuff on board that would otherwise have been confiscated by any security officer worth her salt. Finally there was Tasha, the helmswoman and one of note, a decorated flyer but one who flew with instinct rather than regulation.

Tasha's face wore a delicate brooding beauty, but it was her sense of dress had often been remarked upon, if only for it being wholly inappropriate. She wore a small leather effect top that covered her breasts but left her shoulders and midriff exposed and in doing so showed off the light tan of her skin, the black sheen of the hide was peppered with small squares of shiny metal plate... it gave the effect of being armoured, but was barely up to the task... in fact it hardly seemed up the task of containing her full orbs and they seemed forever threatening to break free of their leather bound incarceration. Her right hand was covered with a black fingerless glove, whilst her left remained unencumbered by any such adornment.

Black leather pants with strapping and buckles adorning the front also covered her pert rump and her right leg... the other leg of her garment she had opted to remove at some point so that now her shapely leg lay fully exposed from just a little under her crotch to the point where it vanished into one of her combat boots... boots that had likely seen better days but they were warm, comforting and shod with a steel instep.

With the transport ship now clear of the station and pointed towards the inky depths of space, she engaged the auto pilot and rose from her seat. Her time aboard the space station had left her feeling sweaty, clammy and uncomfortable, and there was only one thing that could put that to rights and that was standing under the pummeling head of the shower as the drumbeat of water washed away all the grunge of the day and gave her skin that refreshing glow that she so adored.