The Rift

Neon bled into the rain-slicked streets of New Elysium. Towers clawed at the smog-choked sky, their lights flickering like dying stars. This was the underbelly of the sprawl, where the wormhole refugees washed up, ghosts from forgotten colonies. I lit a synth-cig, the glow casting shadows on my scarred knuckles. Name's Dax. Used to run cargo through the black zones. Now? I scraped by in the shadows, chasing whispers of the next big score.
The bar was a dive called the Void's Edge. Holo-screens hummed with news of the latest rift anomaly-some wormhole spitting out anomalies from God-knows-where. Patrons hunched over their drinks, eyes hollow. I nursed a glass of fermented algae, the burn cutting through the chill. That's when she walked in. Sleek, like a blade wrapped in silk. Dark hair cropped short, eyes like polished obsidian. She scanned the room, zeroed in on me. Morally ambiguous? Hell, she screamed it.

She slid onto the stool next to mine. "Dax," she said, voice low, smoky. No question. She knew. "Heard you know the wormhole routes. The ones that don't show on charts."
I exhaled smoke, let it curl between us. "Depends who's asking. And why."

"Call me Sable." Her lips curved, not quite a smile. Leather jacket hugged her curves, zipper low enough to tease the swell of her breasts. She leaned in, scent of ozone and jasmine hitting me. "I need a pilot. Something's coming through the rift. Not cargo. Something... alive."
I chuckled, dry. "Alive gets messy. Credits talk louder than riddles."

She slid a data-chip across the bar. My fingers brushed hers-electric, deliberate. "Enough to buy your silence. And your skills."
I pocketed it. The chip hummed against my thigh, promising trouble. We talked routes, evasion tactics. Her eyes never left mine, probing. Teasing the edges of what she really wanted. By closing time, we were the last ones standing. Rain hammered the windows. She stood, close. Too close. Her breath warm on my neck. "My ship's docked at Bay 7. Meet me at dawn. Don't make me wait."

She vanished into the night. I finished my drink, the burn lingering. Dawn came too soon. Bay 7 was a rusting hangar, shadows pooling under flickering lamps. The ship was a sleek runner, lines scarred from wormhole jumps. Sable waited by the ramp, arms crossed. But she wasn't alone.
He stepped from the shadows. Tall, broad, with a jaw like carved granite. Scars traced his neck, disappearing under a worn flight suit. "This is Pru," Sable said, nodding at him. "My... partner. He handles the heavy lifting."

Pru grunted, eyes appraising me. Cynical bastard, like looking in a mirror. "You the pilot? Hope you're not as green as you look."
"Greener than you, maybe," I shot back. Tension crackled. Not just words. Something thicker.

We boarded. The ship hummed to life, engines purring like a predator. Quarters were tight-cargo bays stacked with crates, a central lounge that doubled as nav station. Sable plotted the course, her fingers dancing over the console. Pru checked the gear, muscles flexing under his suit. I took the pilot's chair, hands on the controls. The wormhole loomed on the scanners, a tear in reality. Unstable. Tempting.
Jump was smooth. Reality twisted, colors bleeding. We emerged in the void, stars smeared. Alarms blared. Something on our tail. Pirate drone, sleek and hungry. I banked hard, evading fire. Pru manned the guns, blasts lighting the cockpit. Sable's voice cut through: "Pull up! It's gaining!"

Sweat beaded on my brow. Adrenaline surged. We shook it, but not clean. The ship shuddered, systems flickering. "Hull breach in cargo," Pru barked. We suited up, mag-boots clanking. The bay was a mess-crates shifted, air hissing. But in the corner, something pulsed. Not debris. A artifact. Glowing, veined with light. Wormhole tech, alien. Untouched.
Sable's eyes lit. "That's it. The anomaly." She reached, but Pru grabbed her wrist. "Careful. Could be hot."

I knelt, scanning. Energy hummed, vibrating through my gloves. "It's... alive. Like you said."
We secured it in a containment field. Back in the lounge, tension uncoiled slow. Suits off, shirts clinging to damp skin. Sable poured synth-whiskey, the amber liquid glinting. "To close calls," she toasted, eyes on me. Then Pru.

We drank. Talk turned personal. Pru's story first-ex-merc, lost a crew to a rift collapse. Sable's softer: colony kid, chasing the unknown. Me? I kept it vague. Shadows suited me. The artifact sat on the table, pulsing faint. Like a heartbeat.
Night cycle dimmed the lights. Lounge felt smaller. Sable stretched, jacket slipping open. A glimpse of lace beneath, black against pale skin. "Wormhole jumps mess with you," she murmured. "Body hums. Like it's still twisting."

Pru nodded, gaze lingering on her. Then me. "Yeah. Edges everything sharp."
I felt it too. The hum in my veins. Her foot brushed mine under the table. Accidental? No. Tease. Denial in the air, thick as smoke. We talked longer, voices low. Stories laced with innuendo. Pru's hand on her shoulder, casual. Mine on the glass, knuckles white.

She stood first. "Need to check the artifact." We followed. Containment chamber was dim, blue light bathing us. The thing pulsed stronger, tendrils of energy licking the field. Sable traced the console, ass swaying in tight pants. Pru watched, jaw tight. I stepped closer, heat building.
"Feel that?" she whispered. Her hand grazed my arm. Electric. The artifact responded, hum deepening. Like it fed on us.

Pru's voice rumbled. "Careful. It's syncing."
She turned, back to the field. Eyes half-lidded. "Maybe that's the point." Her fingers trailed her neck, down to the zipper. Pulled it slow, inch by inch. Skin exposed, freckles dusting her collarbone. Breath hitched. Mine. Theirs.

I moved in, close enough to feel her heat. Pru flanked her other side. Threesome tension, unspoken. Her hand found my chest, palm flat. "Dax," she breathed. Teasing the buttons.
Pru's fingers tangled in her hair, gentle pull. She arched, lips parting. No kiss. Not yet. Denial. The artifact thrummed, syncing our pulses. Her other hand reached back, brushing Pru's thigh. He growled low, hips shifting.

We didn't push. Edging the line. She unzipped further, bra peeking-lace straining over full breasts. Nipples hard points. Vulgar want stirred. My cock twitched, pressing against my pants. Hers? I could see the flush creeping up her neck.
"Touch it," she urged, nodding at the artifact. But her eyes said us.

Pru did first. His hand on the field, energy sparking. She moaned soft, like it was him touching her. I followed, jolt racing up my arm. Straight to my groin. Her hand slid down my abs, stopping at my belt. Fingers danced. Tease. No further.
We pulled back. Laughing it off. Cynical. "Wormhole's got us wired," Pru muttered.

Back in the lounge, the game continued. Sable dimmed lights more. Sat between us on the bench. Thighs pressing. Conversation turned filthy subtle. "Ever feel the void pull at you?" she asked, leg sliding over mine. "Like it's hungry."
Pru's arm draped her shoulders, fingers brushing her breast's curve. Accidental. "Pulls hard. Makes you ache."

I nodded, voice rough. "Ache that won't quit." Her hand on my knee now, inching up. Heat pooled. I shifted, denying the full press. She smiled, wicked. Pulled away.
Hours blurred. Teasing touches. Her foot in my lap, toes curling against my growing bulge. Pru's whispers in her ear, making her squirm. The artifact's hum echoed in our blood. Edging. No release. Sweat slicked skin. Breaths heavy.

She stood again, restless. "Need air." But led us to her quarters. Door hissed shut. Room small-bunk, lockers. She peeled off her jacket, tossing it. Tank top clung, outlining every curve. "Hot in here."
Pru stripped to waist, scars mapping his torso. Muscled, hard. I followed, shirt off. Air thick. She stepped between us, hands on our chests. "Feel the rift's pull?" Her nails scraped light, sending shivers.

We did. Bodies close. Her breasts brushed my chest. Pru's hands on her hips, thumbs circling. She tilted head back, exposing throat. Lips hovered. No contact. Denial burned.
"Pru," she whispered. He leaned, breath hot. Kiss ghosted her neck. Barely. I watched, cock throbbing. Her hand trailed down, palming me through fabric. Slow strokes. Edging. I groaned, hips bucking. She stopped. Tease.

Turned to Pru. Fingers on his waistband. Tugged slight. His erection strained. She traced the outline, vulgar promise. "So hard already." He hissed, grabbing her ass. Squeezed. But no more.
The artifact's hum intruded-monitors beeping. Another anomaly. We dressed hasty, tension coiling tighter. Back to controls. Scans showed a cluster-wormhole debris? Or more like our prize.

"Prep for jump," Sable ordered, voice husky. We did. The pull hit harder this time. Reality warped. Emerging, the ship groaned. But the artifact glowed brighter, tendrils extending in the field.
In the aftermath, lounge again. Whiskey flowed. Sable bolder. Sat on Pru's lap, grinding subtle. His hands roamed her back, dipping low. She arched into him, then glanced at me. "Join us, Dax."

I did. Pressed behind her. Sandwich. Her ass against my crotch, soft and firm. Pru's chest to her front. She wiggled, teasing both. "Fuck," I muttered, hands on her waist. Grinding slow.
Her top rode up. Skin hot. Pru's fingers slipped under, cupping a breast. Thumb over nipple. She gasped, head falling back on my shoulder. My lips brushed her ear. "Want more?"

"Always," she purred. But pulled away. Denial. "Not yet. Rift's playing games."
It was. The hum synced deeper. Pulses racing. We stripped layers. Her in bra and pants. Us in boxers. Bodies close, exploring edges. Her hands on us, stroking outer thighs. Cupping balls light. Vulgar whispers. "Feel how full you are? Aching."

Pru kissed her shoulder. I her neck. No full mouth. Edging kisses. She moaned, hand dipping into her pants. Touched herself. We watched, cocks leaking pre-cum. "Don't stop," he growled.
She didn't. Fingers circling clit. Slow. Building. But no peak. Pulled out, slick fingers tracing our lips. Taste of her. Salty, sweet.

Night stretched. Teasing marathon. Toys came out-Sable's stash from a locker. Slim vibrator, pulsing like the artifact. She held it, eyes on us. "Who first?"
Me. She pressed it to my inner thigh, buzzing. Close to cock, but not. Agony. Pleasure. Pru watched, stroking himself slow. Denied full grip.

Then him. Vibrator on his chest, trailing down. Over abs. Stopping at base. He bucked. "Shit, Sable."
She laughed, low. Turned it on herself. Bra off now. Breasts free, heavy. Nipples peaked. Pressed vibe to one. Moaned. We flanked, mouths hovering. Licked air near. Tease.

Hours of this. Edging peaks. Her close, thighs trembling. Us throbbing, veins pulsing. No release. Cynical laughs masking the burn. "Rift's curse," Pru said, voice strained.
Dawn cycle broke. Scans urgent-wormhole destabilizing. We geared up, bodies humming unsatisfied. The artifact waited, promising more. Tension coiled, ready to snap. But not yet. The pull dragged us deeper into the void.

The void clawed at the hull. Stars streaked past like accusations. I gripped the controls, knuckles white, the ship's groan mirroring the ache in my gut. Sable's voice cut through the static, husky from the night's games. "Steady, Dax. That wormhole's twisting tighter." Pru braced against the bulkhead, his bare chest still marked from her nails-faint red lines, promises unkept. We were all half-dressed, suits half-zipped, the artifact's hum vibrating through the deck like a lover's taunt.
Jump hit like a gut punch. Reality folded, colors inverting. The ship bucked, alarms wailing. I fought the yoke, sweat stinging my eyes. Emerged on the other side, the scanners lit up with wreckage-twisted metal from some long-lost rig, orbiting the rift's maw. But something moved. Not debris. Shapes slithering in the black.

"Contacts," Pru growled, slamming into the gunner's seat. His fingers flew over the triggers. "Not pirates. Worse."
Sable leaned over my shoulder, her breasts brushing my arm. Heat radiated. "Anomalies. Like ours. Feeding on the energy."

I banked hard, dodging a tendril of shadow that lashed out, scoring the shields. The artifact in the hold pulsed in sync, its glow bleeding through the bulkheads. We blasted two, debris blooming like blood flowers. But the third latched on. Ship shuddered. "Boarders?" I snapped.
Pru was up, grabbing a pulse rifle. "On it." Sable followed, her eyes fierce. I locked the autopilot, cursing the pull in my veins-the rift's curse, amplifying every denied itch.

Cargo bay was chaos. Air hissed from micro-breaches. The artifact thrummed louder, tendrils testing the field. And there, uncoiling from the shadows, was the intruder. Not machine. Not man. A writhing mass, veined with the same alien light, probing the air like fingers. It sensed us. Reached.
Pru fired. Bolts sizzled, but it absorbed them, growing bolder. Sable flanked, deploying a stun net. The thing recoiled, but not before brushing her leg. She gasped, staggering. "Fuck-it's... electric."

I charged in, wrenching her back. The touch hit me too, indirect. Jolt straight to the core, cock stirring unbidden. The artifact responded, hum deepening. Like jealousy. We trapped the intruder, zapping it into stasis. But the damage lingered. Sable's skin flushed, eyes glassy. Pru's jaw clenched, fists tight.
Back in the lounge, we collapsed. Lights low, air thick with ozone and sweat. The new prize floated beside the first, both pulsing in tandem. Sable stripped her suit fully, down to skin. Pale curves gleamed under the blue glow. "It's syncing us," she murmured, voice breathy. "Feel it? Like fingers inside."

Pru nodded, shedding his gear. His cock hung heavy, semi-hard from the adrenaline. I followed suit, the cool air teasing my exposed length. We sat close, thighs touching. No rush. The rift's pull edged us, nerves firing without mercy.
She reached for the toys again. The vibrator from before, now joined by a sleek probe-curved, ridged, humming with its own low buzz. "Let's see what it does." Her eyes locked on mine, then Pru's. Challenge. Seduction.

Pru took the probe first. She lubed it slow, fingers glistening. Pressed it to his inner thigh, circling higher. He spread his legs, breath ragged. "Sable..." The tip grazed his balls, light. He groaned, hips lifting. But she pulled back. Denial. "Not yet."
I watched, my own erection throbbing untouched. The artifacts hummed approval, lights flickering in rhythm. She turned to me, vibrator in hand. Trailed it up my chest, over nipples. Buzz sank in, making me hiss. Down my abs. Stopped at the base of my cock, vibrating the air around it. Agony. Pleasure coiled tight, no outlet.

"Fuck, that's cruel," I muttered, voice gravel. She smiled, wicked. Leaned in, lips brushing my ear. "Cruel's the point. Edge it out."
Pru pulled her onto his lap, hands roaming her back. His fingers dipped between her ass cheeks, teasing the cleft. She arched, grinding down on his thigh. Wetness smeared. Vulgar. Real. "Touch me there," she whispered. He did, circling her hole with a slick finger. Shallow press. She moaned, head lolling. But no deeper. Pulled away.

The game stretched. She took the probe herself, easing it in slow. Inches at a time. We watched, cocks leaking, hands fisting sheets. Her pussy clenched around it, lips parting slick. "God, it's buzzing right... there." She worked it, building. Thighs quivered. Close. So close. Then out. Empty. Denied.
"Tease," Pru rumbled, grabbing her wrist. He took control, pressing the vibe to her clit. Circles. Firm. She bucked, nails digging his shoulders. "Pru-fuck, yes." Breath hitched. Peak hovered. He stopped. Laughed, cynical. "Rift's rules. No finishing."

I joined, mouth on her breast. Sucked the nipple hard, teeth grazing. She writhed between us, hands stroking our lengths. Slow pumps. Thumb over tips, smearing pre-cum. Edging us both. My balls ached, heavy. Pru's veins pulsed under her grip. "You're dripping for it," she purred, vulgar edge sharpening. "Both of you, so fucking ready."
Hours bled. The ship drifted in the debris field, scanners quiet. We rotated toys. A ring for me-vibrating, slipped over my cock base. Tight. Buzzing constant. Sable controlled the remote, dialing up when I least expected. I'd buck, chasing friction against her thigh. She'd deny, pulling away. "Beg for it, Dax."

Pru got the probe in his ass this time. She worked it deep, angling for that spot. His growl filled the room, body tensing. "Shit-right there." She twisted, building the pressure. His cock wept, untouched. Close. Pulled out. "Not without me."
She rode the edge too. Us holding her open, fingers tracing folds. Dipping in, shallow. Curling against her walls. She'd clench, soaking our hands. "More," she'd gasp. We'd add the vibe, pressing to her clit. Tremors built. Whimpers escaped. But always, the stop. Denial burned hotter than release.

The artifacts watched, or felt like it. Their hum wove into our breaths, syncing pulses. One tendril escaped the field-brief, licking the air. Touched Sable's skin. She cried out, body seizing. Orgasm danced on the edge, amplified. We pulled her back, grounding. "No," Pru said, voice strained. "Save it."
Cynical laughs broke the tension. "This rift's turning us into animals," I said, wiping sweat. Pru's hand clamped my shoulder, grip lingering. Masculine heat. Unspoken want. Sable between us, slick and flushed. "Animals with leashes," she replied, eyes gleaming.

Dawn cycle flickered on. Alarms pierced the haze. Wormhole destabilizing-pull strengthening. We dressed ragged, bodies screaming for more. Suits chafed sensitive skin. The lounge felt empty without the press of flesh.
Nav station buzzed. Scans showed the rift widening, spewing more anomalies. "We need to jump again," Sable said, plotting coordinates. Her fingers trembled slight. Pru checked the guns, muscles corded. I took the helm, the ship's hum mocking our own.

Jump was brutal. The artifacts thrummed wild, fields straining. Reality tore, depositing us in a nebula's glow-gasses swirling like smoke in a back alley. But the ship listed. "Engine strain," Pru reported. "Need repairs."
We suited up, EVA tethers snapping. Outside, the void pressed. Stars distant, uncaring. The nebula's haze clung to our visors. I welded a plate, sparks flying. Sable floated nearby, her form silhouetted. Pru's voice crackled over comms: "Anomaly inbound. Small one."

It darted, probing. We evaded, but it grazed my suit. Jolt again-straight to the groin. Cock hardened in the confines, painful. "Bastard," I hissed. Sable laughed, low over the line. "Hitting below the belt?"
Back inside, the pull intensified. Lounge again. No whiskey this time. Just us, raw. Sable stripped first, pulling us down. "Can't fight it anymore." But we did. Teased.

She knelt between us, mouths hovering cocks. Breath hot. Tongue flicks-tip only. Mine. Then Pru's. Salty pre-cum on her lips. "Taste so good," she murmured, vulgar hunger. We throbbed, hips straining. No deeper. Denied.
Pru flipped her, ass up. Spread her wide. Fingers traced pussy, dipping in. Two, then three. Stretching. She pushed back, moaning. "Fuck me with it." He did, slow thrusts. Vibe added, buzzing against her g-spot. She shattered close, walls fluttering. Pulled out. Empty.

I took her mouth then. Shallow sucks. Her tongue swirled the head, eyes up. Wicked. Pru behind, probing her ass with lubed fingers. Circling. Pressing in one knuckle. She hummed around me, vibrating. Edge built. We stopped. Laughed it off. Cynical. "Rift's got us by the balls."
Toys escalated. A double-ended dildo, slick and thick. She worked one end into herself, moaning. Offered the other to Pru. He took it, inch by inch. Connected. They rocked, synced. I watched, stroking slow. Denied full speed. Her breasts swayed, nipples begging. I leaned, sucking one. Hard. She arched, close. Stopped.

My turn. She straddled, guiding my cock to her entrance. Rubbed the head along her slit. Slick heat. "Want inside?" Tease. Pressed just the tip. Clenched. I groaned, thrusting up. She lifted. Denial. "Not yet."
The artifacts pulsed frantic now, fields flickering. One tendril breached, wrapping Sable's ankle. Energy surged. She cried out, body convulsing. Us too, jolts racing. Cocks impossibly harder. Pussies clenching phantom. Edge eternal.

Night cycle dragged. We collapsed in a tangle. Hands everywhere. Stroking. Circling. No penetration. Vulgar whispers. "Your cock's so thick, Dax. Stretching me wide." "Pru's ass tight, taking it deep." But no doing. Edging peaks. Sweat-slick. Breaths mingled.
Scans blared-wormhole collapsing. Final jump. We scrambled. Bodies humming, unsatisfied fire. The rift loomed, a maw hungry. Jump hit. Ship screamed. Reality imploded.

We emerged in New Elysium space, battered but whole. The artifacts stabilized, glow dimming. Containment held. But the pull lingered, rift's echo in our blood.
Docked at a shadowed bay. Credits from the score waited-Sable's contacts paying big. But the real payoff? Us. In her quarters, door sealed. No more games.

She pushed me down, Pru flanking. "Now," she breathed. Stripped bare. Toys discarded. Just flesh.
Pru entered her first, slow. She gasped, walls yielding. I watched, stroking. Then her mouth on me, deep. Swallowing. No tease. Full.

We switched. Me inside, hot and tight. Pru in her ass, double filled. She screamed, peaking hard. Waves crashing. Us following, thrusts syncing. Release exploded-hot, endless. Cum filling her, spilling. Bodies locked. Finally sated.
After, we lay tangled. Cynical smiles. The void outside, but here? Warm. The artifacts hummed soft, secrets kept. Trouble? Always. But worth it.

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