Aster cheerfully made her way down the most empty terminal. It was mid-day in the middle of the week, so the Obergreen International Terminal West was about as dead as it could while still open for business.

To either side of her, she could see couples and individuals sprawled out on comfortable couches and massage recliners. Most of them were staring into nothing, their eyes glistening with whatever display was painted onto their retinas. Others were clustered around the areas by each of the gates, waiting for their chance to board a plane that would be flying them to the next country, space station, or another solar system.

For the most part, it was quiet. There were a few kids who had gotten bored with their personal systems and were running around the slack adults waiting for their flights. Two of them were jumping on the luggage robots, the wheeled, squarish contraptions that looked like a mixture of an old style hotel dolly and a digital face that was statistically determined to be the most pleasing without attracting attention.

She had her own robotic dolly driving behind her. The six soft wheels whispered across the ground as it deftly kept up with her and remained a precise 1.3 meter distance behind her tight rear. It wasn't heavily loaded, only a single small bag that had a week's worth of supplies and uniforms.

A breeze wafted past her, bringing the scents of lemon cookies. Underneath it was the antiseptic sting of industrial air fresheners.

She smiled and look ahead of her where a large triple hallway lead into the Atmospheric Terminal. She turned into it. As she strode down the middle, the skirt of her uniform swaying just below her knees, she noticed that the digital displays on either side changed from pastoral scenes of the planet's lower gardens to scenes of other planets filled with multi-colored clouds, rivers that ran with brilliant colors, and the mountains of glass.

The personalized advertisements interspersed and integrated into the image continued to display ceaselessly. Today, they were mostly about lingerie and travel destinations. The computers that scanned her profile always got the underwear right but somehow they never noticed that she got all the exotic locations she wanted.

She smiled to herself and a tingle of excitement teased her thighs. As much as there was no greater pleasure in pulling a pair of Gaberian silk panties on, she rarely work anything underneath her uniform to work. Her pussy tingled as she thought about the number of times someone on the plane had seen her bending over to get a drink and heard the quiet gasp of lust from someone behind her at the sight of her hairless pussy.

At the end of the corridor was the starkest glass wall in the entire terminal. No videos or advertisement played anywhere near the glass. It was a red sore on the delicate aesthetics of the terminal.

Of course, there was also a reason for the warning animations painted across the glass.

“Danger: Poisonous Atmosphere!”

“HE-1 Protection Certification Required!”

“Danger! Suffocation Hazard!”

Unconcerned, Aster strolled up to the door in the center of the wall. She stepped onto the scanning platform as a human security guard game up. It was Jalsir, a human from the Vortar System. He had thick arms and shoulders with just a paunch of a belly. His green-tinged beard has been trimmed neatly according to regulations and he had the dark red uniform of a security guard. In the light above him, his entire skin shimmered faintly.

“Hey, ya girl!”

“Jal!” She started to hug him and then pulled back when the scanner buzzed. Shaking her head, she looked at him. “How are you? I heard you took a pretty good punch with a rowdy customer.”

He rubbed his knuckles along his beard. Underneath the green, there was good-sized bruise that swelled out of the green-stained skin.

Aster frowned. “Oh, poor baby, what—”

The scanner made a faint chime and interrupting her. A display appeared across her vision.

Aster (Employee 52-89823)

  • Skin augmentation: Validated
  • Sub-dermal implants: Validated (123.2 days until next inspection)
  • Respiratory filters: Validated (17 hour capacity, 363.8 days until next inspection)
  • Blood filters: Validated (6 hour capacity, 363.7 days until next inspection)

HE-1 Certification: Verified

Access granted to Atmospheric Terminal. Be careful.

The door slid open.

Aster stepped off the scanner and gingerly rested her fingers on the bruise. “What in the fuck hit you?”

“A drunk grookal. A female just after molting I think, it's hard to tell with the fur. The damn slime stained everything green.” He glanced around and then worked the fasteners of his uniform to pull back the tight color. Underneath, his pale skin was stained the same clear out of sight.

“Oh,” Aster said, “poor baby.”

“You should kiss it.”

She gave him a mock glare. “You are married.”

“Wife two and my first husband are out on a date. You're welcome to join the three of us they left behind.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling.

Aster stepped closer until her firm breasts ground against his chest. “You're human.”

Jalsir grumbled. “For someone who is so fucking beautiful, why can't you fuck your own damn species?”

Smiling sweetly, she tapped his bruise a little harder.

He winced. “Fine, fine. At least give me a kiss or something?”

She rolled her eyes and turned around. For a moment, she considered blowing him a kiss and then going through the gate but then she got a better idea. Turning around, she slipped her feet apart and then bent over to her bag sitting on the bottom of the dolly.

“Oh, blessed are the Four,” whispered Jalsir at the sight of her hairless sex. His moan sent a little thrill of lust through her. It was muted because he, as he mentioned, was just a human but it was still nice to be appreciated.

She dug out and pulled out a golden necklace. It was a present from one of her recent lovers. With a second thought, she also pulled out a pair of her sexiest green panties.

Instead of standing straight up, she slipped her legs further apart until the fabric of her skirt rose even higher and she could feel her outer lips slowly peeling apart. She knew that he was staring at the pink opening of a cunt that he would never get inside.

Aster finally straightened and turned around. “Give this to your daughter, I know she loves gold.”

“Oh, thank you!” His eyes glanced down at her breasts and then back up.

Aster leaned forward until they were once against pressing against his chest. She pressed her panties into his hand. “Give this to your second husband. I'm sure he's going to look hot wearing that tonight.”

Jalsir gulped and then smiled. She could feel his cock growing harder underneath his uniform.

With a sly grin, she stepped back, spun on her heels, and headed toward the gate. “Have a good night.”

He only moaned. “How long are you gone?”

“Five weeks.”

“Damn, I'm going to miss your ass.”

Feeling sexy as fuck, she swept through the clear airlock before stepping out into the Atmospheric Terminal. There was very little to distinguish it from the main terminal, it had the same bright colors, animated displays, and advertisements for lingerie. The only thing that marred the scene were the occasional poison control booths, a larger number of security cameras, vending machines that had things twisting and turning inside.

The feeling of excitement rose inside her and she could feel her pussy growing wetter. Her eyes drifted around her, looking for what she really wanted.

Like the other side, there were travelers sitting on benches and on various chairs. They were differently shaped to handle squirming tentacles, thoraxes, and body types of all form. Her smile grew broader and more genuine as she picked out the ones she liked the most.

The first alien she spotted was a young female grookal. Looking like an elongated gorilla with massive hands and two lines of nipples that went from her chest to her abdomen. She had beautiful green fur that matted against her skin. Thick slime oozed out of her pores soaked into the fur, protecting her against venomous insects that swarmed her home planet.

Aster smiled at her. She knew that the slime had a tangy taste, but it got a lot fruitier and had a wonderful aftertaste if she could get her mouth pressed against the young grookal's sex.

The grookal looked back and her fur fluttered, spraying green slime everywhere. She was obviously of age, given the way it wavered with her thoughts and the way her hips drew back. One side of her mouth peeled back in a brilliant, dripping smile.

Aster fought the urge to stare herself. The grookal was giving a sexual display. There was obvious interest from her as much as Aster wanted to press her body against the slick fur and hear the purr that would shake through the muscular body.

She moaned and forced herself to look away. It was one thing to lust after all the aliens that drew her fancy while they were in flight. It was another to get caught in the bathroom on her knees with her face stained with green. She tugged her skirt down, half afraid that someone could tell that she was practically dripping.

A thrab, a large cockroach-like creature that had a few extra limbs, hurried past her. She could tell it was a male by the way the abdominal segments were split in half and how the spines near its rear drooped. His body was about a quarter again larger than her, and easily double her weight but she knew how agile the thrab could be.

Aster once had a thrab lover. He had short claws that were remarkably rubbery that would hold her thighs as he thrust his cock deep into her pussy. She could still remember how the hard carapace felt against her skin and the way the creature's length was hard as iron but still flexible.

The thrab suddenly lifted his head and peered back at her. His antenna quivered for a moment and then he clicked his mandibles. “You smell nice. Are you in heat?”

Aster blushed and stumbled for a moment. She gripped her skirt and clamped her legs together. Opening her mouth to speak, she tried to come up with some explainable but then quickly gave up. She gave a smile and cocked her head. “T-Thank you.”

With a bow—more of a lowering of his entire body on six legs—he turned and scurried ahead.

She ended up following after him. Her eyes watched the short spines that swung back and forth with the creature's movement. When he took a sharp turn into Gate 48-HE, her heart skipped a beat and she felt a surge of juices oozing from her pussy.

The thrab crawled over one of the chairs and settled into place. He appeared to be traveling alone; there was one thrab or there were thirty, never anything in between. He turned and she could imagine he was looking at her for a second. Then he clicked his mandibles and his antenna quivered.

She came around the benches and walked in front of him. As she did, she planted her foot further away than normal and gave her hip an extra sway to waft the scent of her pussy in his direction.

He clicked his mandibles again. “Very nice smell.”

Aster smiled and worked her way through the crowded waiting room toward the desk. As she did, she scanned the hundred-something aliens that were waiting to board. Most of them didn't appeal to her, either because they were creatures that made poor lovers for her delicate form, ones that had never responded to her desires, or ones that were obviously too busy to appreciate her.

She almost got ran over by a trio of wog children. The werewolf-like children were howling as they ran away from dozens of others that chased them with laughter and howls. All of them crawled up and over the backs of benches and bounced off the massage chairs.

Their parents were three beautiful adult worgs: wolf-like creatures with short hair. There were two mothers and one father. All of their bodies were muscular and trim but she couldn't help but stare at the father who was sprawled out on a bench with one leg hiked up and his foot in the adjacent seat; there was a squirming pup underneath his paw.

However, it was a huge bulge at his crotch that almost stopped Aster. It was huge, with two large bumps and a thick ridge that reached almost down to his knee.

The father was watching a tablet and didn't seem to notice anything at all.

One of his wives did. She was the only one paying attention to the children but she had enough time to catch Aster peering at her husband's cock and gave a warning snarl.

Aster jumped and hurried to the check in desk. Two of the attendants were already waiting: Ginnie and Petoil. Both were human, as all the crew on the flight. She walked up and held up her hands in greeting. “Ladies! Looks like a beautiful crop of travelers today.”

Ginnie was a dark-skinned woman with turquoise hair glittering in the light. Her large breasts strained at her uniform, the material cut just short enough to cause the gap between buttons to swell open to reveal a generous amount cleavage.

Her hair was not regulation but sooner or later she would have to change it. Like Aster, there were microscopic lights along the entire length of their hair. There was a properly licensed color they had to use, it was the same as the blue… no, Obergreen Blue of Dedication™ in her uniform.

Ginnie shook her head. “You're disgusting, you know that?” she asked but she was smiling. She didn't have even a remote interest the aliens on the ship at partners but the “creep flights” paid almost ten times as much because very few humans had the psychological profiles to handle nearly constant contact with non-humans.

Petoil, on the other hand, grinned widely and gestured behind Aster with a casual finger. “I want that red one.”

Aster casually peered around. Petoil had pointed out the male wog. Aster couldn't help but wonder what his massive cock would feel like stuffed in her ass or throat.

Turning around, she nodded. “That's a nice one.”

“I saw a lot of pussies though, that should make you happy.”

“I like cocks too.”

“What about the quaints in the corner?” Ginnie asked without looking.

There were two of the quaints. Creatures that had long, delicate tendrils. Actually, they were almost all tentacles. One was a lavender with turquoise tips. The other was a deeper red with orange and yellow ends. Hundreds of the tentacles were intertwined together.

Petoil leaned over the counter, her trim body easily lifting her short length over the counter. She was into martial arts, yoga, and a dozen other active hobbies. Of course, mostly she exercised to keep up with lovers. She had a point of pride of lasting longer and being more orgasmic than any cock that rammed into her.

She shook her long, curly regulation blue hair as whispered to Aster. “I get the wog first. No stealing. You start on the cunts or the quaints, Bitch.” She was smiling just as sweetly as Ginnie.

Ginnie shook her head. “You two are still fucking disgusting.”

She then made a sour face and jerked to the side.

Petoil looked at her. “Profanity fee?”

“Yeah,” Ginnie said with a groan. “I'm almost down to under three hundred fu… phrases a day. Then I can get off this shitty personal performance plan.”

Aster smiled. “How can you live with yourself?”

Ginnie glared at her. “I spent an hour every day before work just swearing as loudly as I can.”

“Does it help?”

“What the fuck do you—” She cringed.

Petoil patted the back of Ginnie's hands. “Don't worry, we'll help.”

“Thanks, Bitch,” Ginnie said with a smile.

“Change your hair.”

Ginnie looked up and then rolled her eyes. The color of her hair darkened into Obergreen Blue of Dedication™. “Better?”

Petoil blew her a kiss. “Perfect.”

Aster picked up her bag from the dolly. “I'm going to throw this inside the ship and do a once-over. Any of the pilots arrive?”

“Lyman has but Zoil and Raiten are late as usual,” said Ginnie.

“Zoil still in the shit house?” asked Aster.

“After the crap he pulled with that gasson? Yeah, he's in the shit house for at least another month.”

“Why do you get to swear?” muttered Ginnie.

“Because I keep it under the regulation seven per hour, Sweetie.” Aster waved and carried her bag inside. As she did, she tapped her wrist and brought up the display on her retinas. Much of the edges were listing the various things that she paid for, a ledger that summarized the per-minute costs for her small apartment, various lingerie subscription services, and even her utilities. Her hostile environment augmentations all had maintenance costs and loans associated with them. Even with everything, she made more than she needed as a flight attendant and she was happy.

The space plane was pressurized and a blast of air rushed past her as she stepped inside. The roomy ship had three levels to it: sleeping quarters in the middle, exercise and entertainment on the bottom, and observation and the fancier rooms on top. For the two week run, there was plenty to do and scheduled to keep three hundred aliens and humans entertained.

As she walked past the small sleeping quarters for the travelers, she couldn't help but smile. She had spent many times sneaking into them for a night of sex and fun. It was better than the cramped quarters listening to Petoil swearing in her sleep or Ginnie masturbating.

The cockpit was open and Lyman, the head pilot, was running through his checklists. She dropped her bag by the door before sticking her head in. “Afternoon, Ly.”

“Aster! I didn't realize you were on this flight. Last I heard, you were having fun with a wog couple.”

“You know I wouldn't miss it for anything.”

“Oh?” he said wryly and turned around. “I take it you saw some lovelies about to embark? Anyone of interest for me?”

She rocked her hips for a moment as she smiled. “Oh, I think this is going to be a really good trip for us perverts.”

Lyman winked and smiled. By the end of the trip, he either be fighting Ginnie over the wogs or fucking them together. He had a thing for furry creatures, male or female. “Are you on the network yet?”

On most of the long flights, crews would set up private social networks that worked with her implants. It gave them a chance to claim various travelers, make snarky comments about the corporate notices, and generally act like immature teenagers passing notes.

Aster shook her head. “Who set it up this time?”

“Jalsir. Here,” Lyman held out his hand.

She took it in a firm grip. A contact network connected and a file transfer request showed up across her retinal display. It was signed by at twelve of her contacts, all perverts attending the flights. She accepted it without question.

Aster has joined the connection. Transmitting encryption keys.

Lyman: There you go.

Ginnie: Bitch! Welcome to the flight of the century!

Zoil: Aster's ass! Glad you're with us.

Ginnie: Z, she ain't going to fuck you. You don't have hair all over your body or a cock made of crystal.

Lyman: Or dripping fur like Jalsir's friend.

Jalsir: Fuck off.

Raiten: He's ugly as egors, that might turn her on.

Aster rolled her eyes. The scroll of conversations slid to the side of her vision so she could watch it before she released her hand.

Zoil: Me and R will be there in eight minutes.

“I'm going to throw my bag in the crews quarters and do my inspections. How much time before boarding?” She reflexively connected to the flight computer and queried it. The schedule displayed on her screen.

Lyman answered before she could read it. “About twenty-three minutes.”

“Thanks, Ly.”

Ginnie: How long before we start this fucking boarding process?

Aster: 23 min.

Lyman: About twenty-three minutes.

Lyman: Bitch.

Aster blew him a kiss, turned around and flipped up her skirt. Then she headed to the back of the plane.