Heaven with Harmony

Catching Harmony in your arms, you capture her mouth in a bruising kiss. The blue-skinned woman melts into your embrace as urgulian ice cream melts in the triple suns of Yaktelio III. With alacrity, you strip off her clothing as well as your own, caressing her smooth, cerulean skin all the while.

“In the space-suitcase on the floor,” she whispers, as you lick her nipples. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

You reach for the indicated luggage, and look inside. Nestled atop a number of sparkling dresses, you see it – a large strap-on dildo in shining blue. Speedily, you fit the apparatus to your pelvis. When you turn back to Harmony, you find that the flame-haired temptress has arranged herself on the floor, cushions tucked under her hips to prop up her lovely posterior, facing a mirror.

You hardly need her little wave of invitation to approach! Kneeling behind her, you insert your false phallus into her sapphire love-passage, and slowly pump your hips. The diva begins to moan, and you caress her heavy breasts, enjoying the image of your hands on her flesh in the mirror.

Thrusting faster, you reach under Harmony, caressing her engorged joy-button. At your touch, the voluptuous vocalist bursts into spontaneous song:

Vos doigts sont comme le ciel
Étranger doux avec l’amnésie !
Mais courroie-sur est encore meilleur
Et également elle est bleue,
Ce qui est une couleur j’est tout naturellement
Partiel à !

Nearly weeping with the beauty of it all, you climax simultaneously.

Afterwards, as you languidly draw on your discarded clothing, Harmony suggests that perhaps the key to your memory is not to be found on the space station at all.

“I have a personal shuttle,” she informs you. “We could journey out into space together, in search of your identity!”

The notion is both romantic and appealing, and you instantly depart the station.

Unfortunately, a bare space-mile from the station you are attacked by marauding mercenaries, who perhaps have something to do with the Silver Marauder who you so abruptly incapacitated! Despite your best efforts, you are vastly out-numbered and out-armed.

“Oh dear,” you think, as a phaser missile blows your helpless ship to smithereens. “Perhaps I was somewhat precipitate in my earlier action?”

Perhaps you were!

FIN.

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