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Archive name: m02.txt (Mdom/F, size, exh, bond, sci-fi)
Authors name: JackBro (jackbro_99@yahoo.com)
Story title : Mission to a New World - Part 2

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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Mission to a New World - 2 (Mdom/F, size, bond, sci-fi) 
by JackBro (jackbro_99@yahoo.com)

***

Chapter 2: The Surface D-Day


"Are you ready to go?" Brian asks.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," I answer hesitantly, 
already having second thoughts about accepting the 
mission.

We stand on the planet's surface, almost 600 miles from 
the nearest Longton village, at the top of a sand dune 
with only the glow of the two moons and a thousand stars 
to light our way. We already receive our first taste of 
the Longton heat, for the temperature still hovers at 
around 40oC. I already feel perspiration on my brow and 
dread the thought of the sun beating down on us.

The sand shifts below my sandals and scratches between my 
toes. All I see around me is sand; dune after dune of 
shifting sand. The nearest tree, I know, is about a 
hundred miles away. It is like the Sahara Desert on 
Earth, but even the Sahara is nothing compared to this. 
We stand on the edge of the vast equatorial desert that 
is a thousand times bigger than the Sahara.

Next to us sits our mode of transportation. It looks 
something like a jeep or maybe a go-cart designed for 
desert travel. It is an open- air vehicle with no roof 
and only the bare minimum of a frame to hold it together. 
We tied out supplies securely down in the rear: food, 
clothing, radio, a little tent, and certainly plenty of 
water. The two seats positioned in front look too small 
to carry a grown human. The contraption, in summary, 
looks like a toy a young teenager might use to play 
around in a dirt field.

Behind us, down between the gullies of two large sand 
dunes, sits our spaceship. There sits the shuttle that 
bought us down to the surface. We purposely landed it in 
a low place to keep it safe and out of sight from the 
rare desert traveler. I do not plan to see it again for 
at least a week.

"We better get going," Brian appears anxious, standing 
next to the jeep. "Best if we go as many miles as we can 
before sunrise."

I agree, of course. We are allowed to travel in the jeep 
only at night.

Then he adds: "You realize, of course, from this point on 
we're not supposed to wear any Earth-based clothing."

I notice him look at me, and I distinctly notice him look 
mostly at my chest. Now I know why he is anxious. It 
isn't to travel; he is anxious to see what will pop out 
behind my loose fitting blouse. All men like a big set of 
tits.

I do not feel nearly as anxious as he does. "Don't 
worry," I comfort him. "I'll take it off when we leave 
the vehicle."

Brian shakes his head. "You know the rules. Captain 
Rileymen's instructions were clear. From this point on."

He already wears his Longton clothing. It reminds me of 
those little Indian outfits worn in old Western movies. A 
flap comes down in front and another in the rear. His 
thighs remain nearly bare with a thin string that goes 
around his waist. I have to admit he looks sexy in it.

I know the rules. I'm supposed to change into my Longton 
clothing too, but can't bring myself to do it. "Can't we 
fudge a little?" I try to back out. "I mean, what's the 
harm?"

"Listen," He speaks in a rare moment of sympathy. "I know 
it'll will be embarrassing, but it doesn't make any 
difference. Now or later, the result will be the same. 
You might as well get it over with. We can't have you 
walking around all bashful and embarrassed when we meet 
the first Longtons."

This is true. I even thought it a good idea when he first 
proposed we get accustomed to the Longton clothing as 
soon as possible, but now I feel some serious objections.

"All right!" I take a deep breath and accept the 
inevitable. 

I turn away to unbutton my blouse. Underneath, I wear the 
most conservative of the three outfits commonly worn by 
the Longton women. The "outfit" is what I nickname the 
string bikini back at the lab. True to its name, it is 
constructed mostly out of string. One goes around my neck 
and the other ties behind my back. The only fabric 
covering my extra large pair of boobs is two white, 
triangular-shaped cups. Looking down upon myself, I see 
they do a bare-minimum job of covering. In keeping with 
the Longton style, it looks as though I wear a bikini 
sized for a B cup girl on a set of double-D cupped boobs.

I toss the blouse aside and lower my shorts. A sigh comes 
from the jeep to remind me of my ass. The rear of the 
bikini panty is little more than a thong that runs up my 
behind. The front is a small triangle of white fabric 
that thankfully covers everything of importance, but just 
barely.

I have never worn such a small bikini before. In fact, I 
have never worn a bikini at all. My large breasts and 
wholesome Northern Minnesota upbringing bestowed me with 
conservative values. I was always taught that naughty 
girls wore bikinis and good girls wore one-piece bathing 
suits.

Reluctantly, I take a deep breath and turn around.

"Wow!" Brian amplifies my embarrassment.

"Please!" I instinctively cry out, and than quickly try 
to cover my chest with my hands. "Can't you be a little 
more discrete about it?"

"Sorry, but it was just a natural reaction!" He tries to 
apologize.

It is dark and I know he can't see me very well, but his 
reaction and the look in his eyes tells me everything I 
need to know. This will be a very long trip.

"It's just that you look so much different," I think he 
tries to apologize. "I mean you usually dress so 
professionally, but now..." 

His words trail off, but I know what he means.

"Let's just get going," I try to push things along.

The vehicle feels as small as it looks. I am forced to 
press up tight against him when I sit down in the little 
seat. The bare skin of my thigh squeezes up against the 
bare skin of his.

"You ready?" He asks.

I notice the lights on the simple dashboard. They do not 
shine bright, but in combination with the headlights they 
give him additional light to see me by.

"Let's go," I accept.

"You might want to hold on for safety," He tells me, his 
eyes referring down to my hands. Both of them still cover 
my chest. "It might get bumpy. I don't want you to fall 
out and get injured."

"I'm just fine," I refuse. "Let's get going."

The little jeep takes off. It goes surprisingly fast 
considering its small size. I suppose the weaker gravity 
helps move it along. We go up one drift of sand and then 
down the next. Ahead lay more dunes, and then even more. 
We drive on and on with the rear wheels kicking up sand 
and the jeep bumping from the occasional rock.

"Be careful," I warn him as we are forced to attack a 
particularly steep dune at an angle.

"I told you to hang on," He argues and does not appear to 
slow. "At least use one of your hands to hold on."

I know he is right. I hate it when he is right all the 
time. The last week's worth of training taught me that he 
is often right. I found Brian to be smart and a quick 
learner, well chosen for the mission. I only had to tell 
him once, and he remembered everything I said. I found 
him especially good at learning the Longton language. I 
still know it far better than he does, I think he learned 
more in the last 5 days than I learned in my first 5 
months.

Knowing I might as well get it over with, I lower both 
arms and hold on. My right takes hold of the railing and 
the left squeezes between us and takes hold of the seat. 
Immediately, I feel Brian's eyes upon me. I know he has 
been looking at me all week long. Back in the lab his 
eyes seemed to roam down to my blouse at every chance 
they got. It felt embarrassing before, but now...

Now, I don't know what to feel. I continue to feel 
embarrassed, but I also notice a tingle of excitement in 
the air. I have this erotic sensation that I sit next to 
him topless, which isn't too far from the truth. I feel 
as though I am a voyeur strutting my stuff.

I suppose it is inevitable that he look. I am so close, 
right next to him, and I am so big and so exposed. My 
left boob almost touches his right arm. I feel a brief 
temptation to chastise him, but I know it will be to no 
avail. I take a deep breath, knowing I must bear it.

I try to let my mind wonder, but it is difficult in this 
bleak landscape. Up one dune and down the next, the 
headlights of our little jeep illuminate nothing but sand 
before us. It seems to lack power, but keeps up its ever-
constant push. The motor moans as we travel up a dune, 
and then whines as we coast back down the opposite side. 
At the same time we slow going up the hills, and then 
accelerate as we travel back down again. Moan and whine. 
Slow and accelerate. The same motion over and over again. 
It is no wonder the Longtons live only in the Northern 
Hemisphere. They have yet to discover the equal landmass 
in the south. Even a technologically advanced 
civilization would have trouble crossing this desert. It 
would be impossible for a Longton man traveling on foot 
or even with a beast of burden.

We travel for a few miles more before I notice it. It 
happens when I look over to the instruments to check our 
heading. I am afraid Brian might be paying more attention 
to my bust than the proper heading, but the dial 
continues to read straight North. This makes me 
momentarily think he stopped glancing over to my sparsely 
clad chest, but then I notice it. The dim lights of the 
dashboard illuminates it. I do not know if he sees it 
too, but I notice a clear and very distinct bulge pushing 
up his loincloth.

It shocks me at first. I think I might be seeing things, 
but then I casually allow my eyes to lower, and I see it 
again. The front flap of his Indian-like loincloth lifts 
up and pushes away from his body. It is clearly 
noticeable. I think I can even see the outline of a pole 
beneath it.

I take a hard swallow. It shocks me at first. I do not 
know what to say or what to do, but then figure it is 
best not to say or do anything. Brian does not appear to 
notice it himself, although I know he must feel it. He is 
clearly very aroused and very hard. He is at a full 
erection. Even better, he does nothing to cover himself. 
His hands remain on the steering wheel. He continues to 
drive the jeep, as he must. I am left free to admire him 
for as long as I want.

And I do admire it! As we continue driving, my head 
remains pointed straight ahead but my eyes look right at 
it. It feels good to have the tables turned. It feels 
exhilarating, even a little thrilling, knowing what my 
big boobs and my tiny bikini are doing to him. It even 
makes me feel a little aroused - I have to admit. I think 
of the male meat only a short distance away.

I like cocks, but not just any ordinary cock. The 
pictures of naked men in the centerfolds of Playgirl 
never thrilled me very much. I will never forget, 
however, the first time I saw a picture of an erection. 
It was in my freshman year of High School. I had just 
transferred from a pale parochial grade school when one 
of my newly made girlfriends showed it to me on a library 
computer. I thought it the most amazing thing I had ever 
seen. It looked so big! And it looked so long! The thing 
looked like a monster, like it was about to attack me. 
From then on, I always got aroused when I saw an erect 
cock.

Then I think about why he is aroused. Obviously, he must 
be having nasty thoughts about me. He fantasizes about 
me. As he drives, his eyes must roam over to my boobs. 
This makes me wonder what is going through his mind. 'Is 
he squeezing my boobs in his mind?' I ask to myself. 'Is 
he reaching over and lowering my top? Is he playing with 
my tits or perhaps imagining himself teasing my nipples?' 
To my surprise, this both scares and delights me. In a 
strange sort of way, I find myself wishing I was topless 
and wanting him to massage me. Despite Brian's ego and 
his subservient attitude towards women, I have to admit 
he is a very handsome man.

Even better, Brian looks to be of impressive size. I can 
tell by the bulge he makes. It looks to be substantial, 
although it is difficult to tell in the weak lights of 
the dashboard. I more properly need to see him in the 
headlights. Or even better, I need to take a look at him 
underneath. It would not be difficult to do. My hand is 
already so close, grasping hold of the seat between us. 
All I need to do is reach over and lift the little flap.

I chastise myself. I think about what I am doing and 
can't believe my own thoughts. I scolded him earlier for 
looking at my chest, and now I repeat the same sin with 
his cock. I am no better than he is, observing the 
opposite sex not as an equal but as a sex object.

I try to move on to something else and erase the thought 
out of my mind, but the task proves more difficult than I 
anticipate. Brian further complicates matters by keeping 
his bulge. I don't know when it started, but I know it 
has been several minutes since I first noticed it. He has 
remained hard and erect now for the past ten minutes, 
which makes me wonder how far along his fantasy has 
progressed. 'Am I naked yet?' I question to myself. 'Is 
he now fantasizing what it will feel like to reach over 
and lower my panty? Is he now imagining himself playing 
with my sex too?'

The thought makes me squirm in my seat. Brian looks over, 
but I simply ignore him. No words have been exchanged 
between us since we left, but I don't mind. I don't feel 
like talking.

As I wonder about his fantasy, I begin to experience my 
own. It is my standard fantasy, the one I get whenever I 
see a particularly handsome gentleman sitting on the 
opposite side of the dinner table or down at the end of 
the bar. It starts with the guy standing at the foot of 
my bed where I order him to strip. In my fantasy, 
naturally, he obeys. He removes one article of clothing 
and then another, until he stands before me in only a 
tiny bikini panty or perhaps one of those fishnet briefs. 
In either case, I order him to remove this last piece of 
clothing too, and soon he stands nude - absolutely nude. 
I picture Brian standing at the foot of my bed, totally 
naked without a single stitch of clothing anywhere on his 
entire body.

The covers of the bed are drawn, but now I pull them back 
to display a sexy little nightie that does a superb job 
at showing off my sizable assets. This naturally makes 
the man aroused, and I now picture Brian developing an 
erection. I watch from the bed as it grows from a tiny 
dick into the monster I know must be hidden underneath 
his loincloth. I picture Brian with a big, long, perhaps 
an 8-inch organ standing upright and at attention. I see 
him standing at the foot of my bed, motionless and 
obedient, allowing me to look as much as I want, waiting 
for my next command.

Then I fantasize myself ordering him to turn around with 
a single hand. I say nothing. I just use my fingers to 
have him turn so I can first have a look at his cock from 
the side and then take a good look at his ass in the 
rear. I admire his naked body all over, and then I motion 
him to come closer. He does so, and in my fantasy the big 
man is soon standing at the side of my bed with his big 
cock within my reach.

The fantasy continues when I take advantage of the 
opportunity and begin to play with his cock like it is my 
toy. I imagine what it will feel like to touch Brian's 
hard organ and feel up his entire length...

*** 

"You getting tired?"

A question interrupts my fantasy. I realize I am looking 
down, starring straight down at his waist. I realize I 
have my head bowed, which Brian must have assumed to mean 
I was tired.

"No, I'm okay," I first answer and then decide to play 
along. "Well, not too tired. Just taking a rest for a 
moment."

"We're almost at our first stop," He tells me. "The map 
shows it should be just up ahead."

I look to see a dark outline against the stars above. I 
know it is the outline of trees from an oasis. It is not 
hard to find an oasis at this high northerly latitude. 
Springs bubble up out of the ground every few dozen 
miles. Around them blossom a forest of trees and bushes.

The headlights of the jeep illuminate green vegetation as 
we travel over the summit of the next sand dune.

"You better slow down," I warn, seeing we are going 
downhill at full speed. "I think this is it."

Just as I say it, the ride suddenly turns rough. We drive 
into a pile of rocks. The wheels of the jeep are unable 
to stay on the ground. It is like hitting a stretch of 
potholed asphalt.

"Slow down!" I say again, this time more forcefully as I 
feel my body lift completely out of the seat and then 
come crashing back down.

"I'm trying!" Brian counters. "Damn brakes!"

We slow, but not before hitting several more rocks and 
then the protruding roots of a tree. Another large jolt 
hits the jeep. My body again leaves the seat. It is large 
enough to fear my boobs might have left their protective 
covering. I look down to check, and then look over to see 
Brian check too. I see he has taken advantage of the 
situation and looks at my bouncing chest.

"The road!" I remind him. "Keep your eyes on the road."

I can't believe he is looking at my bouncing boobs 
instead of the road in front of us. I realize what he has 
just witnessed and start to feel embarrassed.

"Sorry, but that was the first time I had to use the 
breaks," He tells me as the jeep eventually comes to a 
near stop and then weaves between the trees. We drive 
closer to the source of the oasis: A small pond of water 
formed by a seeping spring from below. Before the jeep 
has a chance to come to a stop, I jump out and head for 
the water.

It feels good on my face when I kneel down and splash 
myself. The water is surprisingly cold. It is nearly 
freezing cold, in direct contrast to the hot temperature 
of everything else on this sizzling planet. I cup another 
handful of water and splash it onto my face.

"How is it?" Brian asks from somewhere close behind me.

"Great!" I keep splashing myself. "Cold! Feels like it 
must be coming up from a deep spring."

"You know you can jump in if you want," I hear him step 
past me. "There's nothing in these waters that can hurt 
you."

It sounds great, but the idea of walking into a strange 
body of water in the dead of night scares me. Luckily, 
Brian comes to my rescue. Instead of stopping at the 
shoreline, he walks right in. He walks into the water as 
though it is no more than a friendly fishing pond back on 
Earth.

I already wear the equivalent of a swimsuit, so it is an 
easy matter to take a swim. I follow, but the water is 
too cold; surprisingly cold. It is cold enough to prevent 
me from jumping in all at once. I find myself having to 
step in slow and leisurely allow my body to get 
accustomed to the drastic change in temperature. Brian 
already stands in the middle, deepest part of the little 
pond. I can't help but feel disappointed at what I know 
the cold water will do to his swollen member.

The water is pure, and my body feels dirty all over. It 
feels like a thin layer of grime from the open-air 
vehicle covers me from head to foot.

The pond is not very deep. Even in the center, the water 
only comes up to my waist. I am forced to go down to my 
knees in order to cover myself up to the neck. I must 
then bow my head down lower to wash my sand-encrusted 
hair. The pond is also small, only about the size of a 
large swimming pool, but this is normal for such 
southerly latitudes. Later, as we travel further north, 
the ponds will grow into lakes. Oasis will grow into 
forests.

"We better get going again," Brian suggests after what 
seems like only a minute, although I know we have been in 
the water for much longer. "We have a schedule to keep 
you know."

I know well enough, but I do not want to leave. The water 
feels refreshing. It is like a relaxing evening bath 
after a long day at work, but I also know we have a long 
way to go yet. It is only about midnight. We are supposed 
to drive another 5 hours before stopping for daylight.

I follow Brian and step out of the water into the 
sizzling night air. We step into the lights of the jeep 
where I can see him clearly. His bare thighs look 
terrific. His whole body makes me hot.

As I look at him, a mischievous idea comes to mind. It is 
a naughty, sneaky, mischievous little idea; but I can't 
help but consider it when I think about his deflated 
member. I get the nasty idea of changing into the next 
iteration of Longton clothing. I think about the next, 
more provocative article of Longton clothing. The reason 
I want to change into it is equally naughty.

"I think I should," I say before I realize I have said 
it. "I suppose I might as well get accustomed to my new 
wardrobe, exactly as you said before."

This seems to take Brian by surprise. He steps back, 
almost as if in shock. It is as though he perhaps guesses 
at my real intent, but I have no way of knowing for sure.

"I'll just step over here behind a few trees to change," 
I tell him as I untie my pack from the back of the jeep.

I see him take a deep breath and then swallow before 
answering: "Whatever you're comfortable with."

The second piece of Longton clothing contains more 
fabric, but it is more erotic and exposes more than the 
bikini. I call it the vertical swimsuit because it is 
composed mostly of two vertical strips of cloth that rise 
from the panty and go across my chest. A snap at the back 
of my neck connects them. Technically, it is a one-piece 
suite, but in reality it more closely resembles an erotic 
nightgown.

The two vertical strips of cloth both give the suit its 
name and make it so erotic. Because nothing goes around 
my chest in the horizontal direction, nothing is left to 
support my boobs. My tits are left free and natural. They 
swell out and make their slight plunge down from my chest 
just as though I wear no top at all, and the strips of 
cloth are narrow enough to allow someone to examine me in 
great detail.

I know this new article of Longton clothing will make me 
look especially sexy when someone looks at me from the 
side, as I know Brian will have the opportunity to do in 
the jeep. It fills me with ecstasy, although it also 
fills me with trepidation. I look down upon myself to see 
my entire line of cleavage exposed down the center of my 
chest. If I had a mirror, I would even be able to see my 
own undercleavage. I grow with trepidation at the sight 
Brian will encounter. My only solace is Brian's assured 
reaction.

"Ready to go," I step out from behind the trees. Brian 
already sits in the jeep. He looks only briefly as I join 
him. I notice the feel of metal against my buns and back 
when I sit down, reminding me that my entire back lays 
exposed and a thong again rides up my rear. 

"Figured I might as well get it over with," I confess to 
Brian as we again drive off in the jeep.

It does not take long. Although I do not see him look, I 
can tell that he does so by his reaction. This time I do 
not hold up my hands to cover myself. I allow him to look 
as much as he wants, and soon I notice his reaction. A 
bulge again rises from his shorts.

It looks as big and substantial as before. I can't help 
but think what I would like to do with it. I imagine 
myself reaching over and casually lifting the little flap 
of fabric to give myself a better look. I am tempted to 
look, but of course I do not. I am not that kind of girl. 
I must remain content with my imagination.

I attempt to remove his cock from my mind, but Brian 
again makes it difficult. His bulge remains. I try not to 
look, but every few minutes the temptation overcomes me. 
I move my eyes without moving my head. I take a glance 
over and see it continue. It continues for a long time, 
and it is difficult not to notice.

Up one sand dune and down the next. We continue on. The 
journey becomes monotonous, but my mind remains occupied. 
I can't get him out of my head.

The fantasy returns. I again imagine him standing at the 
foot of my bed while I order him to first disrobe and 
then to harden. In my mind, he stands within arm's 
length, and I am taking advantage of his closeness. My 
arm is outstretched and my hand his encompassed around 
him. I imagine myself holding his toy cock in my hand.

I start with small, short, deliberate strokes on the base 
of his member. I make him aroused, and then I use my hand 
to increase his arousal. Soon, I see the resulting 
evidence of my actions as drops of pre-cum slowly ooze 
out of the tip of his cock. In response, I increase the 
speed of my pistoning motion yet further to witness his 
reaction even more. One of the best things I like about a 
man is the feel of his thick cock in my hand. By the look 
of the bulge under Brian's shorts, I am sure his will 
feel very fine.

Much later, after I judge him sufficiently lubricated and 
most likely dripping, I imagine myself stroking up and 
down on his entire length. I imagine holding my hand out 
to his member. I fantasize pumping it up and down. I 
think about pistoning on the entire length of organ.

The fantasy turns more vivid as I imagine myself reaching 
for it now, reaching out my hand to the driver's seat. I 
imagine what it would be like to reach out right now and 
give him a slow, deliberate, and ever-constant stroking 
action.

I shake my head in an attempt to erase the fantasy out of 
my mind. This is not like me. 'Here I am sitting next to 
a man with a firm cock between his legs, and all I can 
think about is what a pleasure it would be to have sex 
with him.' But not just any ordinary sexy, but kinky sex. 
'If Brian only knew the thoughts in my mind!' The thought 
makes me blush with embarrassment.

But then I realize he must be having equally vivid 
fantasies. 'He must be!' There is no way he can remain 
hard without it. The realization makes me wonder what he 
is thinking. 'Is he fantasizing about my boobs?' I ask 
myself. 'Or maybe he is picturing me topless and trying 
to figure out what my hard nipples must look like.' A hot 
wave of ecstasy travels through my body as I consider it. 
I find myself wanting to show him. I know he wants to 
see. He's had his eyes locked on my chest all week. I 
caught him several times during our lessons with his eyes 
firmly locked on my chest. I even caught him trying to 
look down my top when I bent over on the one day. His 
actions disgusted me then, but for some strange reason I 
find them exciting me now.

I shake my head again to get the thoughts out of my mind. 
It is not like me to have such fantasies about a man 
while I sit so close to him. My dreams usually come at 
night or in the early morning hours. They usually happen 
only after men are far away and I have time to think 
about it. But this is different. There is little else to 
think about.

"There's another oasis not far ahead," His voice 
interrupts my thoughts. "If you want, we can stop for 
dinner. It's getting to be about that time."

The clock on the dashboard reads 2:00 AM, Longton time. 
In reality, it is closer to 7:00 PM Earth time. We 
purposely landed with our bodies still on daylight hours 
to avoid falling asleep while driving through the Longton 
night. I failed to notice my hunger before, but the 
mention of dinner quickly reminds me that it is past my 
normal dinner hour.

"That sounds like a good idea," I agree. "I do feel 
awfully hungry."

A naughty idea fills my head. Brian looks at me first 
with a look of shock on his face, and then he smiles. I 
am not sure, but I think he has read my mind. I think he 
understands the hidden meaning behind my words. I really 
do feel awfully hungry, like I said, but not just for 
food. I also feel hunger for his cock.

"I need a rest stop anyway," He quickly recovers. "I know 
it's still a couple hours before I should be feeling 
tired enough to go to bed, but all this driving can be 
really tiring on the body."

I can't help but think about how tiring it must be for 
all the blood to constantly flow down to his hard 
erection too.

"I can take over, if you want," I offer. "I mean after 
dinner, if you don't mind. I would like to take a turn 
behind the wheel of this thing too. It looks like fun."

"Are you sure you can?" He questions. "It's not as easy 
as it looks."

"Don't you think a woman can handle it?" I guess his 
thoughts. "I bet I've had a lot more experience driving 
this sort of vehicle than you. I used to drive around in 
little three-wheelers all the time as a kid. And besides, 
with the way you drove into the last oasis, it wouldn't 
take much to better you."

He shrugs his shoulders and refuses to respond. I know 
Brian does not like to be bettered by a woman, which only 
encourages me to tease him further. I notice the bulge in 
his shorts has diminished too. I must remember not to 
tease him too often.

***

We stop to eat dinner a few minutes later at the next 
oasis. The jeep is parked right up next to the life-
giving water. The headlights remain on, and Brian hangs a 
lantern by the rollover bar. This gives him lots of light 
to see me by, but I really don't care anymore - 
especially after what I just experienced.

I have just walked back out of the water. Before we ate, 
both of us decided it better if we first washed ourselves 
off and cooled ourselves down. I walked into the water 
almost as soon as he brought the jeep to a stop.

Pleasant to my delight, I discovered the pond at this 
oasis was both larger and deeper than the first. The 
water came up to my neck in the middle of the lake, which 
gave me the idea of unsnapping the rear hook and lowering 
my top. After all, there was no way he could see anything 
under the water. I did it to feel more comfortable and to 
better wash myself. I never expected what else it did.

"Not as cold as the first spring," I attempted to make 
idle conversation as Brian walked in after me. Being 
taller, the rose only came up to the middle of his chest, 
giving me an excellent view of his chest and bulging 
biceps. I couldn't help but think about what he would 
have seen had I been just as tall.

"Water feel good," Brian attempted to switch languages 
and speak to me in a type of broken Longtonese.

"Me think so too," I agreed in more proper Longtonese, 
although I must admit that even I do not speak it very 
well. "Try lower all under," I suggested.

He was close enough for me to see a look of intense 
concentration on his face. For a moment I thought he was 
looking at my boobs, but then I realized he was only 
trying to translate my phrase.

"I said you should try to lower yourself all the way 
under the water," I repeated the same in English. "Dunk 
your head under. It feels good."

He did so, and then I did the same, but careful not to 
bounce up too high.

We continued our little conversation, talking about 
little bits and pieces of information without really 
talking about anything at all. The main purpose of our 
talk was to practice the Longtonese language, not to 
communicate any worthwhile information. I remain amazed 
at how well Brian speaks it after only 5 days of lessons.

As we talked, an unexpected sense of eroticism came over 
me. It occasionally dissipated, but then I kept 
remembering again my near nudity under the water. We 
stood only a few feet apart. I occasionally thought he 
might be able to see my naked boobs through some weird 
reflection of light off the water, but then I always came 
back to my senses. He in fact saw nothing at all. I think 
that is why he conversed more openly with me. He was less 
intimidated when I was better covered.

His bulge made it worse. I no longer saw it because it 
was under water. In fact, I hadn't seen it for a long 
time. I observed it dissipate while still driving in the 
jeep. By the time we got to the oasis, I noticed it no 
more. Our brief conversation in the jeep must have erased 
whatever dirty little fantasy he carried in his mind.

But I couldn't help but think about how long it remained 
hard. He remained at a hard-on for nearly the entire 
drive. He was hard almost the entire time since our last 
stop, and that was almost two hours ago. 'Impressive,' I 
kept thinking to myself, and then considered what a waste 
it was for his hard cock to remain unused for so long.

This gave me a thought. It was a naughty, very erotic 
thought. I wanted to slap myself for considering it. But 
I couldn't help it! As we continued practicing simple 
Longton phrases in the water, I raised my hands up to my 
chest.

"What eat for tonight?" I questioned what we were 
planning to have for dinner as I felt over my own 
nipples.

"Bread...lettuce...carrots," He hesitantly attempted to 
list the menu in Longtonese as I pinched my nipples. It 
tingled and even hurt a little, but it also gave me a 
sense of erotic voyeurism. 'If he only knew what was 
going on just under the surface,' I couldn't help but 
think to myself.

"Anything for dessert," I asked as I next moved my hands 
down and supported my boobs from below.

"Cookies."

But what kind?"

"Oatmeal to simulate the grains on this planet," He said 
in English as I heaved the heavy mass of my tits up into 
the air.

'I bet he would really like to see these,' I naughtily 
thought to myself as I carefully sunk lower to keep my 
tits under the waterline. They never in my life felt so 
heavy.

"Now in Longtonese!"

He has forgotten the names of the three most common 
cereals cultivated by the Longtons, so I tell him.

We talked for several minutes more, and the whole time I 
continued to play with my tits under the water. I 
squeezed them, pushed them together to give myself 
cleavage, rubbed across my nipples, and then squeezed 
them once more. I did this as I continued on a normal 
conversation with a man who stood only a few feet in 
front of me. It was a wonderful experience.

Briefly, I wondered if Brian was doing the same. I 
pictured him taking hold of himself, feeling himself, 
massaging up and down his own length as we continued our 
pleasant little conversation. But then I shook my head. 
It was a ridiculous thought. His hands remained mostly 
floating on the surface where I could see them. And with 
the water being so cold, I doubt if he could have done 
anything at all. As the cold hardens my nipples, I 
realized it also shriveled his cock. Still, it was 
interesting to consider.

"Think lunch be now," He told me in Longtonese that it 
was time we got something to eat. "Keep schedule must."

He was right. I came back to reality. We had a job to do 
and needed to stay on schedule.

I followed him out of the water, discretely putting my 
top back on as we left the relative protection of the 
dark water and entered the light of the jeep again. We 
walked back to the jeep and now eat a light dinner.

***
 
As I sit on the back bumper of the jeep with a cookie in 
one hand and a cup of water in the other, I find myself 
wanting to give him another hard-on. My vertical suit is 
no longer enough to do so, even in the substantial light 
of the lantern. I see he has become accustomed to my 
sizeable tits. It is then when I think about the toga.

I shiver at the thought. The toga is the third and most 
revealing of my Longton outfits. It is far more revealing 
than the bikini or the vertical swimsuit.

It is called a toga for obvious reasons. It looks 
suspiciously like to the toga worn by the ancient Greeks 
and at uncounted numbers of college fraternity parties. 
One part wraps around the woman's waist. The other swings 
up and over her right shoulder. The only problem is that 
there isn't enough clothing to cover everything of 
importance. Specifically, the piece that goes over the 
woman's shoulder is too small. It is only wide enough to 
cover a single breast. My other boob will be left 
completely exposed.

"I'm thinking about changing cloths again," I tell Brian. 
"Into the toga."

He almost falls off the back bumper. I smile, almost 
giggle; pleased at his reaction.

"I'm thinking I might has well get accustomed to it," I 
try not to show my elation. "I don't want to, but I 
figure the sooner the better."

It takes several minutes for him to gather himself enough 
to answer. "It's up to you," He finally says. 

"I think I will," I conclude, seeing the bulge again 
start to form beneath his shorts. It forms amazingly 
fast, and it does so long before he even has a chance to 
see me. The mere suggestion gets him hard.

"Yes, I think I will," I conclude for certain now. I 
finish eating the oatmeal cookie for dessert and then 
reach into my backpack and pull out the toga.

"Don't look!" I warn him as I walk away, and then think 
about how ridiculous my statement sounds after 
considering the clothing I am about to put on - or lack 
there-of.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say to myself as soon 
as I am far enough away to know he cannot hear. I was 
afraid to wear a bikini a few hours before. Now I am 
about to leave a breast uncovered. 'And it is such a 
substantial breast,' I think to myself as I look down 
upon it. My tits have never felt so big before. The toga 
covers my left boob far better than the bikini or 
vertical swimsuit, but I do not wear a single stitch of 
clothing on the other.

***

"You still want to drive?" He asks from the passenger 
seat as I approach.

I see he has packed up everything. Even the lantern is 
turned off and packed away. It has taken me several 
minutes to change clothing, but not so much just to 
change. Most of it was spent gathering enough confidence 
to join him.

"Sure," I accept.

I know he has seen me. I notice him take a quick glance 
up from the passenger's seat to look at my bare boob. But 
very politely and probably with great control, he does 
not draw attention to it.

I sit down next to him, right up close to him, our hips 
touching. Much to my trepidation, I realize it is my 
closest boob that remains bare to him. I wish the strap 
of the toga covered the opposite side of my chest.

"I want you to know," He speaks shyly, looking away. "I 
really admire you, I mean at what you are doing. I know 
how difficult this must be for you, and I think it's 
really great the way you are willing to put yourself 
through all of this in order to help these people you 
never met."

"Thanks," I appreciate the compliment. It is a very nice 
thing to say.

I notice him take another glance at my bare tit. This 
time, I see him look. He even pauses for a long moment 
when he looks, as though he is trying to freeze the image 
on his mind.

"Thanks for not being a jerk about it," I return the 
compliment. "If it was with anyone else, I don't think I 
could do this."

"I'm not doing anything special," He counters. "You're 
the one who has the hard job."

"True," I have to agree.

He glances at me again. This time he does not look down 
at my tit. He smiles at my face. And then I smile back at 
him.

"Why don't you look?" I offer. "If you want, just go 
ahead and take a look. You're going to eventually see me 
anyway."

I'm not sure what I am doing, but I feel as though I have 
to do it. Someone has to break the ice.

Brian accepts, but only for a second. The expression on 
his face makes him look even more embarrassed than I am.

"Really, it's all right," I prompt him. "I'm sure you've 
been to strip joints and seen it all, especially with you 
being a Marine and all. I've heard stories about you 
guys."

"What kind of stories?" He accepts and turns to face me 
again. This time it is more than just a glance. He looks 
hard, almost stares right at my bare boob. He looks 
directly at my naked, exposed, and what feels like a very 
large boob; and he keeps on looking. I ignore his 
question.

I wonder what he is thinking. 'Is he imagining what my 
boob feels like?' I wonder. 'Is he pretending to squeeze 
it? Or is he just trying to freeze the image in his 
mind?' I wish I had the ability to read his mind.

"Like it?" I try to break his stare after what seems like 
ten minutes but what is probably closer to only one or 
two. I start to feel uncomfortable.

"Better than any strip joint I've been to!" He tells me 
with a big smile. "It's hard to believe you're the same 
person from back at the lab. You look magnificent!"

"Thanks, I guess," I meekly accept this rather 
embarrassing compliment. "Would you like to see a little 
more?"

"More?" He looks at me strangely.

"Yea, more!" I'm not sure what I am doing, but I do it 
anyway. I do it on a whim, without thinking. I take hold 
of the strap of cloth going over my opposite shoulder. "I 
mean, what the hell? You can already see half!"

"Wow!" He exclaims the moment the strap comes down. I sit 
next to him topless.

His reaction surprises me, but it is not unexpected.

"What I mean is, you really look beautiful," Brian tries 
to take a step back. "Sorry about that, but I didn't mean 
to come across quite so strong." He looks away.

"I understand," I console. "You were just being honest I 
suppose."

I know what he really meant, of course. What he really 
meant to say was that I have a big set of jugs. He 
probably wants to say something about how unusually firm 
or what strangely big nipples I have too. He doesn't have 
to say it; I can see it in his eyes.

"You going to drive like that?" He breaks the silence.

"What the hell!" I remember that I sit in the driver's 
seat. "I suppose we might as well get going again."

"Might as well," He agrees.

***
 
Every bump of the jeep jiggles my tits as we speed our 
way across the desert. The cool night tingles my nipples 
as it blows in my face.

What am I doing? I yell at myself. Am I crazy?

I've never done anything like this before. I usually get 
embarrassed at just a low cut blouse, and here I am 
topless. It feels so dirty, so wrong; but at the same 
time it feels so right.

The jeep distracts me when we first set out. I haven't 
driven a motor vehicle in over 3 years. The gas pedal 
does not feel like I remember it. The sand and tall dunes 
constantly fight my attempts to keep us headed on a 
straight path. Brian gives me a few pointers. I 
momentarily forget about my exposure.

But it soon returns. Driving becomes second nature. My 
naked chest overwhelms me.

"I think it's cooled down," I say because I have to say 
something.

"But still hot," Brian glances in my direction.

I think about his crotch but fight the temptation. My own 
boobs are enough for now. 'One thing at a time!'

"I can't wait until morning," I start again. "Sitting 
back up in the lab, I used to often try to imagine how 
hot it really got down here. I'm finally going to find 
out."

"You might not want to know," He answers after a pause. 
"The heat will kill you if you get caught in the open."

I know he looks at me. I notice his glances. He takes 
quick, fleeting glances every few seconds. He tries to be 
discrete about it, but he fails miserably.

"What if we break down?" I ask.

"Unlikely," He answers. "This jeep was double and triple 
checked before we left. Even if we do break down, we have 
enough provisions and survival gear until they send a 
rescue party."

I know all of this already. The military briefed us 
before we left. The only reason I ask is to make 
conversation.

We continue to converse; first about the jeep and then 
about our upcoming encounter with the Longtons. I want to 
talk more, but I find it difficult with Brian. He acts 
shy and even bashful, which I find curious. I couldn't 
keep him quiet the last couple of days. He always wanted 
to talk about things other than work, and then he would 
suggest continuing the conversation over dinner or back 
in his room. But now I see a complete turnaround, and I 
know what it is. It comes from my big boobs. My nudity 
makes him shy.

"Sorry if I blabber," I decide to be honest. "It's just 
that I feel really uncomfortable, and I'm one of those 
people who talks when she gets uncomfortable."

"Me too," He admits to my astonishment. "This feels 
weird."

He glances down, and I make the mistake of glancing down 
with him. I see his bulge again.

"Oh my!" I mistakenly say out loud.

I think I know why he doesn't want to talk. It must be 
difficult for a guy to casually talk to a girl with a 
raging hard-on. I wonder if it comes from his 
imagination, like maybe he is imagining himself fucking 
my brains out. 'Is it only my tits?' I can't help but 
question. 'Or has he progressed yet to my pussy?' I 
wonder about his fantasy and then can't help but have my 
own.

Taking another glance, I wonder how thick it is. Then I 
wonder how long it must be. My left hand holds the 
steering wheel. My right hand rests upon my right leg. It 
would be an easy matter to reach over and take a look.

To my astonishment, I let my hand move to the right, 
closer to him. I don't try to do it. It just happens. My 
hand slides over and I allow my fingers to touch his 
thigh ever so slightly. His bare skin sends a thrill 
through my entire body.

He fails to respond. I wonder if he has even felt my 
touch. I figure the only thing Brian can feel is his own 
raging hard-on.

But then he surprises me. He moves his leg closer. He 
presses his leg against my own, opening both legs in both 
direction. My pulse doubles and a hot wave of sexual 
energy travels through me. It is as though he offers 
himself to me.

I don't know what to do! I am not sure what he wants! 'Is 
this an invitation?' I question. 'Or was the movement of 
his leg just a normal, casual movement?' It certainly 
doesn't look normal or casual. He spreads his legs so far 
apart the loincloth drops down between them and his right 
knee sticks out the side of the jeep. He resembles a male 
whore who offers himself to play. I find it difficult to 
pay attention to the jeep.

I wish Brian would just tell me what he wants. Better 
yet, I wish he would demonstrate it. I would love him to 
reach over and grab my tits. I would enjoy it even more 
if he decided to take his fingers and start to tease my 
nipples. 

My fingers remain pinched between our legs several 
seconds more. I pull my hand up to brush my long hair out 
of my face, and when I rest it back down again I find 
myself touching his leg. I can't believe what I have just 
done. My fingers rest only a few inches below his balls 
and the erect cock above them.

I feel strange. I feel erotic. I think I could even be 
wet. I am not accustomed to being in this position; 
behind the driver's seat, in control. I often fantasized 
about taking control of a sexual encounter - the daydream 
about the bedroom encounter comes to mind - but in real 
life I behave like a tremendous pacifist. I don't know 
what to do.

His bulge remains. I think it is even bigger now. The 
loincloth, when it drops between his legs, serves to 
amplify its size. I am shocked to find myself trying to 
figure out his length. 'A minimum of 7,' I think to 
myself. '7 inches, minimum length, maybe even a fraction 
of an inch longer!' I find it hard to make an honest 
estimate in my heightened state of arousal.

I can't stand it any more.

"Do you mind?" I decide to question him. I take a glance 
down at his waist as I say it, indicating my intent. His 
eyes follow, and then he smiles.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" I decide to be more 
blunt.

My foot lifts off the accelerator. I slow the jeep down 
to a crawl.

"It's up to you," He serves the choice back to me.

My decision is obvious. I look at my own fingers, hardly 
believing they are mine, as they take hold of the flap of 
his shorts and begin to peal it back. Brian says nothing. 
He fails to answer my question with words, but his 
inaction tells me all I need to know. 

"Very nice," I tease him before I can see anything. The 
darkness makes it difficult to see. I know how men like 
to be complimented on their merchandise. All men are 
impressed by their own cocks. Given Brian's personality, 
I figure he thinks his is the greatest of all.

I think I see an outline, and then I think I see even 
more. Yes, I definitely see it now. I have enough 
uncovered to see the general outline of his erect member. 
I raise the flap of fabric above his waist and take a 
look.

"Yes, very nice," I make sure to continue complimenting.

It fails to fulfill my wild fantasies, but it is not 
small either. It is difficult to tell for certain, but 
Brian looks to be at least a little longer than average. 
His length does not attract me so much as his bulk. Brian 
has a wide girth.

Looking closer, I also notice he is uncircumcised, a 
little fact that I relish. I've always felt it a sin to 
circumcise a male prick. Men should be left as long as 
possible to give as much pleasure as possible.

Looking closer still, I think I might even be able to see 
wetness. I see pre-cum at the tip. 'Of course he has pre-
cum!' I realize. 'He's been hard for almost the last two 
hours!'

I notice the jeep slow to a complete stop. It is I who 
bring it to a stop, although I'm not quite aware of doing 
so. In a wild feat of ecstasy, I decide to take advantage 
of the situation.

"Get out," I tell him sharply.

"What!" He looks back to me in surprise.

"Get out and take it off," I clarify. "Take it all off. I 
think if I have to wear this toga, then you have to take 
it off. Put your shorts in back. As long as I have to 
bare a breast, I want you to show me all of you."

He hesitates and stares back at me with a shocked look on 
his face. For a moment, I think I have gone too far. I 
don't know what he will do, but then he rises.

I watch as he gets up, unties the thin string that goes 
around his waist, and then removes his shorts completely. 
He places them in the back of the jeep and then gets back 
in. Now naked, he sits down beside me.

"Is this better?" He asks.

"Much," I answer simply.

We start off again. This is a dream come true. A naked 
man sits beside me. Better yet, he is a naked man with a 
hard erection poking up at attention. "That's better," I 
tell him again. "That's much better."

As he glances over at my exposed right tit, I glance down 
at his engorged erection. I no longer need to imagine it. 
I know exactly his size and what it looks like.

My fantasy continues. In my mind, Brian again stands 
beside me at my bed. I find myself stripping and stroking 
him again, except this time I add an element that I have 
never considered before. As I stroke him, I tell him not 
to cum. I order him to remain hard and allow me to stroke 
him for as long as I want. I say I do not want him to cum 
and to get soft, for I want to continue to play with his 
member.

In my fantasy, predictably, he obeys me and remains hard. 
I see by the expression on his face that he desperately 
wants to eject, but I keep telling him that he cannot. 
"Not yet," I fantasize myself ordering him. "Not yet! Not 
until I finish playing."

I stroke on him some more, and then I stroke on him even 
more. In my fantasy, Brian is like my ultimate sex slave. 
His organ is mine. I own his erection. Only I can give 
him permission and tell him when it is time to spurt, but 
I refuse to do so. I keep pumping on his organ and 
watching his anguish. It is as though I sexually torture 
him.

Of course, I know my fantasy can never come true. It must 
remain just a fantasy. Men cannot master their cocks no 
more than a woman can master an orgasm. If I should start 
pumping on Brian right now, I think he will cum almost 
immediately. He has already remained hard for so long. In 
fact, it is impressive how long he has kept up his 
erection. I do not know for sure, but I think he must 
have already been hard for a combined total of nearly 
three hours this night. Deep inside, he must be ready to 
burst.

Yet he does nothing about it. He does not touch himself. 
He does not touch me. Despite the incredible desire that 
must be burning inside him, his hands remain firmly 
planted on the handrails of the jeep.

I want him to do something. My tit swells out from my 
chest from only a few inches away. My nipple clearly 
shoots forward from the very tip. And from between my 
legs, although I know he cannot see, my pussy radiates 
heat and wetness. I want him to fuck me.

I shake my head and come back to reality. This is too 
much. I must stop my fantasies, but they are difficult to 
stop as long as Brian remains sitting beside me. I see 
his stiff prick; his hard, wet, and very erect prick. The 
lights from the dashboard do not provide much 
illumination for his prick, but it is enough to see the 
head sparkle. I can tell he pre-cums.

Brian repositions his arms to take hold of the rollover 
bar above his head. He lifts his hands above his head, 
allowing me an even more open view of his stiff prick and 
his naked body. It is as though he is putting himself on 
display for me. I feel like I am at a strip club where 
the men not only strip down to nothing but also entertain 
the female audience by making themselves hard.

Then I consider yet another erotic aspect of his nudity. 
It hits me from out of the blue, although I know what 
triggers it. The way Brian holds his head above his head 
makes it appear as though he is bound. A hot wave of 
excitement comes over me as I think about tying him 
myself.

The fantasy turns to a direction never traveled before. 
Usually, I end my fantasies with a long fuck and an 
eventual orgasm. This usually happens as I stroke in and 
out of myself with a dildo.

But now I consider a more erotic suggestion. I wonder 
what it would be like to change positions. Instead of 
fucking me, I wonder what it would be like to fuck a man. 
I imagine myself encircling a rope around Brian's wrists 
and tying him up to some convenient tree.

Suddenly, the big cock before me no longer belongs to 
him. He no longer owns it. I feel as though it is mine. 
Although it still projects out from his body, I have the 
weird and incredibly erotic sensation that he only holds 
it in storage for me. I think Brian's cock is really 
mine. I purchased it. Just as the men in this Longton 
society own their women, so I own my man. Or more 
specifically, I own Brian's cock. And as its owner, I can 
do with it as I please.

This is a new high for me. I've never considered these 
things before. More than just being a passive recipient, 
I wonder what it would be like if the male agreed to be 
my sex toy; my slave. Or more precisely, I wonder what it 
would be like if Brian agreed to be my sex slave.

I have to stop. Shaking my head, I come back to reality.

To be continued...

Comments welcome (JackBro_99@Yahoo.com)

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the 
hands of children. They should be outside playing in the
sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 18