This is Fleet HQ and they do not like spies.” one of them said. He openly appeared like a Saran tourist and the other was quite apparently Saresii. ...Despite centuries of genetic manipulation, makeup, and all else, this one could not hide the strong male features.The male Saran snorted. “Those silly Terrans could not catch a real spy if I wore a sign on my back saying so. We managed to put a spy right on top as the president and he was there for quite some time.”“They are not that silly, my. “We usually get up with the dawn. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m almost ready for bed, but first, I suppose, we’re going to have to determine how we should go about bathing.”“Uh, us guys can go outside for a bit,” Morales offered.“No need,” the Clan Queen broke in to say. “I saw a screen setup on the net when we were accumulating supplies for a camping trip we were planning for sometime in the future, so I bought the thing. It consists of two sets of expandable poles and a lightweight. Just before she reached him though, he slipped out onto the terrace, his hooded eyes beckoning for her to join him. She took one deep, ragged breath and followed him out onto the terrace where no one could see them. She emerged into the cooling air, which was welcome against her dangerously hot skin. He stood with his back facing her. His powerful, masculine figure black against the dying light. ‘Alex-‘ The words died against her lips as he interrupted her. ‘Are you enjoying my game?’ he. It was more than four hours before everyone that wanted to had used one or more of Bev's orifices and then rushed over to jack off into the bowl.Once the line came to an end and everyone was sitting around on hay bales or on the floor, Curtis nodded. His two assistants got up and freed Bev from the bench. She couldn't stand on her own so they left her sitting slumped over on the bench, probably thinking her ordeal was over.The women helping out at the punchbowl had been alternating their duties.