I wonder how much Adiron knows about human dates.
I wonder if he knows that a lot of them end with a kiss on the doorstep.
Then, I wonder if I'll allow it if he tries. Adiron's made it very clear that he likes me, that he finds me attractive despite the fact that we're two completely different alien races. He's also made it very obvious that he'd be interested in getting to know me in very explicit ways, but he's done so in a way that doesn't make me feel trapped or cornered. I don't feel like I have to have sex with Adiron to ensure my safety. I feel like for the first time since arriving in space, I'm in control of the relationship. If I want to cut things off and end them, I will. I think Adiron would be disappointed, but he wouldn't attack me or harm me.
That realization is surprisingly freeing. Knowing that whatever I decide, I'm going to be okay. That I don't have to suck an alien's dick just to ensure a few more days in space, or that I'll get fed. The only way his dick gets sucked is if I feel like sucking it.
And because I have that control, it allows me to look at Adiron differently than the men that abused us in the past. I can look at him as a potential partner, if I want, even though the timing is awful. After all, we're here alone for the next few weeks. A little flirtation can't hurt things. And Adiron has been…kind. Sweet. Goofy, in his own way. He's been obvious in his interest, but also hasn't acted on it. He's just letting me know where he stands so I can decide if I want to pursue things with him or leave them as they are.
So I dress to let him know just how I plan to go about things. I put on my slave girl costume—or at least the top half. The bra of it makes my tits jiggle and pop out of the tiny strips of fabric that hold them in place, like the world's worst bikini. I've added a bit more material this afternoon, so it's slightly less scandalous and my breasts are covered more, and I've hand-sewn a long length of fabric from one of the pale gray bedsheets into a skirt. As I put it on, it flows over my body like a busty sundress with spaghetti straps, the skirt swishing just above the knees. All of my shoes are ugly, functional boots that are far too big for human feet, so I leave them off. I take a bit of fabric from the sheet and use braided strips to make gray bracelets for each hand.
I feel pretty, I realize, as I look in the mirror. I don't feel the heavy weight of responsibility or the need to be the “mom” of my small group. I'm pretty and sexy and ready to have a flirty evening with a big alien corsair who looks at me as if he wants to eat me with a spoon.
I might never get off this ship ever again. I might meet my death in a month from an ice field, or I might be stuck in deep space for years and years on end, waiting for a rescue that will never come. Either way, I deserve to do something a little reckless with a fun-loving, handsome alien that makes me smile.
So I check the time, recognizing the slashes on the door-pad as alien numerals, and I head back to the kitchen for my date. It's a little chilly as I pad through the silent halls of the ship, and I wonder if I should have worn something warmer. Too late now. I spent all afternoon making this awful-looking dress, and I'm going to wear it, damn it.
As I step into the kitchen-slash-dining area of the ship, Adiron is already there. He's dressed up for our date, too, in clothing I haven't seen him in before. It's a one-piece ship uniform, like I've seen so many aliens in, but this one is deep blue in color, so dark it's almost black. The front has a few decorative zips trailing along the legs and up the chest, flashes of silver in the unrelenting dark fabric of the uniform. He's got a patch on his shoulder with some alien words written on it, and a belt slung over his hips in that sexy angle that makes me think all kinds of filthy things that have nothing to do with guns or weapons. His uniform is…surprisingly tight, too. It's tight across the pectorals, showing off his muscles, and his biceps bulge against the fabric of his sleeves. His, ah, package is extremely outlined as well, made all the more obvious by the decorative zippers that bulge on either side, as if straining to let a trouser-beast out.