Pretty fancy for a space pilot I thought. I was clad in my usual in-flight uniform; white Jockey briefs with a frayed waistband."Where the hell did yo...u come from," I asked in a bewildered tone."Zanc Romular," she replied curtly, as though that explained anything at all."Right!" I responded. "Is this some kind is a surprise inspection to test my emergency procedures? Who are you... and what the hell is a Zanc Romular?" I do not understand your phrase 'Emergency Procedures', Zanc Romular is my. I’ll need the car again.”The contempt in her voice didn’t match a simple, inopportune phone call.“Of course,” I said. “Are you okay? Did something, happen, this morning?”She leaned to pick up the small mingled pile of her clothes.“Oh my God. Don’t even ask, just-- don’t.” She sighed, “I’m sorry.”I was confused; Milena was usually the cheerful one. I was so focused on how I’d been feeling that I’d assumed she had had a good day.“It’s okay… I uh...” I started a sentence but I didn’t really know. .. before... “ he panted loudly, above the sound of the hissing water.Carlotta was slithering all over the tiled floor of the cubicle under Quentin’s furious pounding. Slithering and squirming. Twisting and jerking. But somehow he managed to keep a grip on her... and keep thrusting away. Needless to say, Carlotta’s contortions only increased his pleasure.“O-ohh... a-ahhh... oohh... you lovely... little... b-beauty... oooh... hhhaahh... hhhhaaahhhhh... what... a... super... fuck... oh yes.... "I couldn't find my... Well, you know... My clothes, honey." I nodded yes meekly, understanding the situation. Still, in spite of the shirt, Stacy looked somehow different. She seemed so peaceful. So at ease. Considering the situation we were now in, she seemed so relaxed. She occasionally would lean down and gently kiss my forehead. She spoke softly..."I had to do it, honey. I didn't want Rick to hurt us." I sat looking up at her as she spoke."I think that, maybe, if we just do as.