Oh hay spacebooty
Dear Diary,
Preparing for warfare made me understand how the inner character of a man shines through, especially when he is under a great deal of pressure. It is under these conditions I began to notice my new co-commander, Ovid. His pale green skin and autumn-colored hair, his piercing eyes the color of amber. He always moved with confidence, never fumbling or fussing, making swift decisions as if he already expected the events of every passing moment... As our crew grew closer in the days leading up to battle, so did Ovid and I. One night, as we planned strategic occupation of a neighboring planet and our growing problem with crew retention, he expressed his desire for me. Seconds later Ovid hovered over me on a workstation bench, then I felt the full weight of his body sinking into mine with more confidence than he had ever displayed. I could feel veins in his body swelling with activity, even through his uniform. We made sure to keep quiet, not allowing a sound to escape from between our clenched lips. Ovid gave his orders in his gaze. He was daring me not to look away. It was not long before the sound of shuffling feet and hesitant knocking at the control room door reminded me that we had requested two crew members be sent to us for questioning. The control room. Ovid was in full command now as he swiftly re-positioned my legs to his liking. He ran his lips over the buttons of my uniform jacket before meeting my eyes with a satisfied gaze. But once he noticed the disappointment setting in across my face, he too remembered our earlier request. At once, he straightened his torso and removed my left leg from over his shoulder. He tucked his uniform shirt back into his slacks and buttoned his jacket, quickly reaching over to undo my blouse where in a hurry I had placed a button in the wrong buttonhole. Finally he looked me over briefly and nodded in approval. I sat back down on the workstation bench as he opened the control room door and motioned for the crew members to come inside…
Even in my dreams, it seems I have more important things to do than get some booty. Either way, it just might take space travel for me to get laid if I keep messing around with Boston. I have to focus and get a real job quick, so I can begin my life as an international woman of intrigue, and booty getting.
Since I am slightly unnerved by this dream, as I don’t recall ever having an urge to twist bed sheets with pale green men, I feel more motivated than ever to put the LiveJournal down and back away slowly. I’m getting a late start on today, but that should be no reason not to get something done, right? I'd like to seriously channel my sexual frustration into finding a job, exercising, and actual sex. Possibly in that order, I'm not sure yet.
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Preparing for warfare made me understand how the inner character of a man shines through, especially when he is under a great deal of pressure. It is under these conditions I began to notice my new co-commander, Ovid. His pale green skin and autumn-colored hair, his piercing eyes the color of amber. He always moved with confidence, never fumbling or fussing, making swift decisions as if he already expected the events of every passing moment... As our crew grew closer in the days leading up to battle, so did Ovid and I. One night, as we planned strategic occupation of a neighboring planet and our growing problem with crew retention, he expressed his desire for me. Seconds later Ovid hovered over me on a workstation bench, then I felt the full weight of his body sinking into mine with more confidence than he had ever displayed. I could feel veins in his body swelling with activity, even through his uniform. We made sure to keep quiet, not allowing a sound to escape from between our clenched lips. Ovid gave his orders in his gaze. He was daring me not to look away. It was not long before the sound of shuffling feet and hesitant knocking at the control room door reminded me that we had requested two crew members be sent to us for questioning. The control room. Ovid was in full command now as he swiftly re-positioned my legs to his liking. He ran his lips over the buttons of my uniform jacket before meeting my eyes with a satisfied gaze. But once he noticed the disappointment setting in across my face, he too remembered our earlier request. At once, he straightened his torso and removed my left leg from over his shoulder. He tucked his uniform shirt back into his slacks and buttoned his jacket, quickly reaching over to undo my blouse where in a hurry I had placed a button in the wrong buttonhole. Finally he looked me over briefly and nodded in approval. I sat back down on the workstation bench as he opened the control room door and motioned for the crew members to come inside…
Even in my dreams, it seems I have more important things to do than get some booty. Either way, it just might take space travel for me to get laid if I keep messing around with Boston. I have to focus and get a real job quick, so I can begin my life as an international woman of intrigue, and booty getting.
Since I am slightly unnerved by this dream, as I don’t recall ever having an urge to twist bed sheets with pale green men, I feel more motivated than ever to put the LiveJournal down and back away slowly. I’m getting a late start on today, but that should be no reason not to get something done, right? I'd like to seriously channel my sexual frustration into finding a job, exercising, and actual sex. Possibly in that order, I'm not sure yet.
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