Zohn stroked his strut as he watched the Yazamite woman get fucked. On either side of the woman were rows of males and females getting fucked but Zohn only had eyes for her. She was almost twice as big as any of them but more importantly she was just gloriously beautiful with her plump features and ritual scars.
He stroked faster. One hand stroked his tip while the other hand worked the base. He timed his stroking to match the jiggle of the Yazamite woman’s massive breasts.
Zohn glanced at the thing fucking her. It was someone in a blue pressure suit. The faceplate displayed a smiley face. Zohn hoped for the being’s sake that its suit was extra durable for few things could survive the clenching muscles of a Yazamite in orgasm.
The Yazamite came again. Zohn could tell by the way her mouth gasped. He could see it in the flush of her cheeks. He could see it in the shaking of her tits.
She looked at him again. Their eyes met and her tongue licked her lips. It was bad form to fuck someone from the front when they were bent over the Bar but Zohn was tempted. It would mean being able to grab the lustrous black hair of the woman or perhaps one of her abundant breasts. Pushing into her mouth was worth any social repercussion.
Zohn grunted. It wasn’t like anyone would stop him. He was an Ovine and when you stand two and a half meters tall, have three horns and shoulders strong enough to lift and throw a ship’s torpedo, being tend to let you do whatever the fuck you wanted.
Lucky for them, Zohn wanted to sit here and stroke his strut while watching a beautiful Yazamite get fucked. Fucking was good but this was real intimacy. The Yazamite was being pounded by something well hung but her eyes were on Zohn. She was one of many bent over the counter but she was the only one that he watched. They had a connection in this moment and that turned Zohn on more than any face fucking could.
The Yazamite grabbed a tit. The fleshed spilled between her fingers. She looked at Zohn as she moaned.
Zohn knew he would try to recreate the image later in sculpture. He could think of three buyers who would purchase it. It would pay his rent on the station for another month but he also knew already that he would not sell it. This moment and the sculpture he made of it was only for him.
He pumped his strut faster. The Yazamite cried out another orgasm. He smiled at her pleasure and she smiled back. Zohn wanted to return the gift of her pleasure.
Zohn climaxed. His four balls pumped a fountain of seed into the air. The Yazamite’s eyes widened in shock and then she laughed lustfully as he kept pumping.
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