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From: The Technician <technician666@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Gloriana     Sci-Fi, Missionary, Oral, Anal
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Date: Sun, 21 Sep 2014 06:10:01 -0400
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Gloriana

by The Technician

Sci-Fi, Missionary, Oral, Anal

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A Pilot Joins a Very Special Twelve Mile High Club.

What happens at 65,000 feet can't stay at 65,000 feet. But will-  or
can- test pilot Colonel Harold Hammen  ever tell what actually
happened when he met Gloriana.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
WARNING!  All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18
ONLY.  Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content.  All
people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations,
and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real
life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference
between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province,
nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts
depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to
somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if
acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is
included with the article.  This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The
Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this
story for personal, non-commercial use.  Production of multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly
forbidden.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician}
Senior Project  http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753
 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
 * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The XF-139 was a very special type of plane, but then Colonel Harold
H. Hammen was a very special type of test pilot. The plane was an SRA,
a "Slingshot Response Aircraft" capable of responding anywhere in the
world in just minutes when carried aloft by a special UTV, an
"Ultrasonic Transport Vehicle." The docked pair could be kept anywhere
in the world and respond instantly to anywhere in the world when a
situation arose. Both the two-pilot transport and the single pilot
response aircraft would need mid-air refueling and perhaps mid-air
towing to return to base, but the incredibly short initial response
time meant that there was nowhere in the world that US air power could
not appear in the sky within minutes of an incident. Or, at least that
was the design theory that Colonel "HH" Hammen was trying to prove out
in this test flight.

Twelve minutes ago, the docked pair screamed off a runway from a
secret base in the British Isles; one minutes ago, they separated high
over the skies of Montana; and one minute from now, the SRA would make
a strafing run and fire two test missiles at simulated targets off the
coast of the state of Washington, just as it had successfully done in
four previous tests.

So far, the SRA/UTV combination had proven successful in every
anticipated battle and weather condition from Arctic to desert to
jungle. This was the final test before moving on to the next level of
prototype. But test number five would not be as successful because HH
Hammen was about to encounter some very un-anticipated weather
conditions. He was at 47,000 feet and dark thunderheads loomed in
front of him.

"Climbing to 50 to avoid weathertops," he calmly radioed as he pulled
back on his controls. But when he reached 50,000 feet, the storm
clouds were still above him.

"Initiating weather avoidance," he reported as he began a climbing
turn. He was not expecting a response from ground control, but even if
he had expected it, there would have been none because the violent
electrical activity of the storm was blotting out all communications.

Ground control had been screaming at him to abort since shortly after
separation. "Mother of God," one of the weather trackers had yelled.
"Those are over 60,000 feet. Get him out of there." The command to
abort was immediately given, but HH never received it.

As Colonel Hammen continued his turn, he realized that not only were
the thunderheads above him, they also encircled him. The storm had
closed in around him. He was in the eye, a large clearing in the very
center of a record-breaking violent storm. He was fairly sure that he
could fly through the storm, but he would be tossed around quite a
bit, and he was flying over mountains. Thunderstorms sometimes had
extreme updrafts and downdrafts and a downdraft over mountains could
easily mean trying to fly through granite.

His only safe option, and the suggested procedure in this situation,
was to "top the storm" and fly over it. He put the SRA into a steep
climb and tightened his circle. The climb became steeper and the
circle tighter as the clouds continued to close in rapidly around him.
As he passed through 65,000 feet he saw it. It was something few
people have ever seen, even in photographs- a hail outflow. And this
one was gigantic.

Hail is created when rain is repeatedly carried to high altitudes by
the violent updraft/downdraft combinations within thunderstorms. The
rain freezes at the high altitudes, and when the ice particles get big
enough they drop out of the storm, or they are thrown clear at the top
of the updraft and fall to the ground below. 

Hail outflow at the top of a storm is somewhat like a waterfall,
except it is pieces of ice. The more violent the storm and the higher
the top of the updraft, the larger the pieces of hail. This was an
extremely violent storm system and the tops were at near-record
heights. The hailstones in the outflow were the size of baseballs- or
larger- and there was no way that the SRA could avoid them.

Only a seasoned test pilot could calmly announce, "Catastrophic
failure of both engines" as the two GE turbines ingested the huge ice
particles and exploded, effectively shredding his wings. In an equally
calm voice he added, "Structural failure to pilot compartment" as the
canopy shattered around him. From that point on he acted
instinctively, grabbing and pulling the ejection handle located
between his legs.

His last conscious thought was, 'This wasn't the record I was
intending to try for.' No one had ever successfully ejected at this
altitude with a standard ejection system.

Ground control watched silently as the debris field flashed brightly
on their tracking screens. One of the officers in command softly said
"Damn," before asking "Do we have a tracking beacon?" His question was
answered with silence from the ashen-faced support crew.

***

Colonel HH Hammen woke slowly and looked around him. He was in a bed
of some sort, naked and covered with a warm sheet and blanket.
'Intensive care of some sort,' he thought to himself. Then he added
aloud, "I'll be damned.  I actually survived."

"That you did... for now," answered a soft feminine voice. "But I am
probably in a lot of trouble."

HH looked over toward the source of the voice and suddenly the calm
voice of an experienced test pilot was gone, to be replaced by a loud
exclamation, "Who in the hell are you?!" That was followed by an
equally loud "And just where in the hell am I!?"

The woman- if you could call her that- stepped over to the foot of the
bed. "I am Commander Gloriana," she said firmly. "And you are on my
ship."

Commander Gloriana was a little over two meters tall and very thin.
She had very small breasts and almost no hair on her body. HH could
tell that because she was totally naked. He could also tell that her
skin was a grayish-green except on the palms of her hands where it was
a much lighter green and the area around her crotch which was a
greenish pink.

"Am I hallucinating?" asked the Colonel.

Gloriana laughed and answered, "If you were, your hallucination would
tell it that it was real. But I am not an hallucination. I am a
forward scout from... well, you wouldn't understand that anyway. We
have been studying your planet for many years. I was supposed to
observe the tests of your latest war machines to evaluate if you were
yet a threat to other planets."

"You're a spy," HH said abruptly.

"Yes, I am," she answered with a smile, "but we mean no harm to you or
your people or your planet. We are only supposed to watch events
unfold and report back. We are absolutely not allowed to interfere in
any way. That is why I am probably in deep trouble. When your planet
reaches a higher level of development- if it does not destroy itself
first- we will make official contact."

"So why did you transport me here when my plane disintegrated?"

She answered with a laugh, "Oh, I wish we could do that. It would
eliminate long, boring missions on tiny ships like this one. Physical
teleporting or bodily transmission is still beyond even us. But we can
transmit or receive a life essence over short distances. Your physical
body is trapped in a vertical wind cycle in a severe thunderstorm. It
will be some time before it reaches the ground."

Her laugh deepened and she said, "In the meantime, it has been a very,
very lonely tour of duty."

"Is that why you're naked?" HH asked.

"No," she replied, "that is why I am horny. I am naked because lint
from fabric tends to clog air systems in small ships like this one and
plastic or artificial leather tends to chafe after a while."

She smiled and continued, "Besides there is usually no one here but
me."

HH still looked confused and asked, "Then why this bedroom? And aren't
these fabric sheets? Isn't that a waste of space in a small ship? And
wouldn't the fabric clog your air system?"

The green woman looked slightly embarrassed. "Spoken like a true test
pilot," she said. "And yes a bedroom like this would be a waste of
space and the sheets would clog my air system... if any of this were
real."

"What!" exclaimed HH. "Then this is all an hallucination."

"No," she countered. "It is real... sort of. It just is not
substantial. This is all within my mental recreation area. It is all
computer-generated... but it is real!"

She reached out and stroked his arm. "You can feel that, can you not?"
she asked.

"Yes," he answered.

She took his hand and put it on her breast. "And you can feel that can
you not?"

"Yes," he answered once again.

"So can I," she sighed.

Her shoulders slumped slightly and she said, "I guess I should be
totally honest with you. There is almost zero probability that you can
survive the destruction of your aircraft. You were not significantly
injured when you ejected, but your ejection system- I think you call
it a parachute- is trapped in the storm vortex. Your air supply is
running out and it is below the temperature where your species can
sustain life."

"Then I'm dead."

"Not yet," she added with a partial smile, "or you would not still be
here. You are still alive, and because you are still alive, I was able
to draw your life essence into my mental recreation area. I used to
have some very enjoyable programs that I could enter in this area, but
just before my departure, some up-tight asshole censored all my sexual
relief programs."

She looked HH in the eyes and continued, "I figured that since you
were dying anyway, I could give you some final moments of pleasure...
and I could record things for interaction later. We both benefit."

She raised her dark green eyebrows, "Besides, it would give you a
chance to test out sex with an alien life form." She smiled again,
"Test pilots have died testing out much less."

"I guess it's better than enduring the pain of freezing to death at
high altitude." HH replied and again reached out to touch her breast. 
Gloriana climbed into the bed with him and lay on top of him. She
pressed her mouth against his and he returned her kiss. He tentatively
slid his tongue to the edge of his lips and she parted hers to allow
him entrance. 'This is like being a teenager again,' he thought. 'I
wonder if they call this French kissing on their planet.'

There was an urgency for both Gloriana and HH, and yet at the same
time they moved slowly to explore each other's body. She was surprised
to find that the foreskin of his penis had been surgically removed. He
was surprised that her breasts swelled considerably as they rubbed
against his body.

"What is your customary position for intercourse?" she asked
breathlessly. "For us it is male on top with woman facing him or
turned away from him."

"Let's start with old-fashioned face-to-face,' he replied between
gasps as she slowly stroked his penis.

She rolled over onto her back and HH pulled himself on top of her
between her legs. "Are you sure this will work?" he asked, immediately
feeling stupid for asking the question.

"According to the internet ads, dildos on your planet are the same
size as on ours, so it should work, but we will be the first to
actually try."

He pushed forward slowly and Gloriana reached down to center his
member on her opening. 'She smells slightly different,' HH thought.
'But then, I probably smell different to her.'

He started thrusting slowly but soon she was frantically thrusting up
to meet him. Her moans as they approached orgasm were not unlike an
earth woman's, but there was a higher-pitched almost whistle that
accompanied her groans and got louder and louder as she approached
release.

Suddenly she wrapped her legs around the back of his legs and pulled
him tightly into herself. She screamed as he spurted inside her, and
continued to thrust up against him for a few more moments until she
shuddered and fell silent.

A little while later she gave a soft, "Mmmmmm," and said, "I needed
that."

They lay there on the bed together until HH said, "I think I'm
crushing you," and slid over to lie alongside her.

After several minutes of silence, Gloriana asked, "Do males on your
planet ever use the other openings?"

"Other openings?" he asked, obviously bewildered.

"On our planet, some females like to use their mouths to bring a male
to climax. And some males like to insert their penises in the waste
opening."

"Oh," he replied with a huff of laughter. "You mean oral and anal.
Yes, those are popular on our planet. If you do all three in one night
it is called 'going around the world' because regular sex is usually
referred to as English, anal as Greek, and oral as French."

Gloriana raised herself up onto HH's chest and asked with a sly grin,
"Want to go around the galaxy?"

She then turned and lowered her mouth onto his penis, which had
started to come back to attention. After licking and sucking for a few
minutes, she turned even further and straddled HH's face. Her smell
was slightly different than an earth woman's but it was definitely a
female in a high state of sexual arousal. Her clit was engorged and a
bright red. Against her green skin, it looked almost like a holly
berry on a Christmas wreath.

HH raised his head slightly and tentatively gave that bright red nub a
flick of his tongue. Gloriana responded by sucking harder and moving
faster on his prick. 'Must be what she wants,' he thought and began
licking and sucking at the bright red female fruit.

Soon he could once again hear that shrill whistling sound as her
movements got more and more frantic. He felt himself arching upward
and spurting into her mouth. A moment later she crushed her cunt
against his face as something sweet smelling spurted from her bright
red clit.

Again they lay together for a few moments. This time it was Gloriana
who broke the silence with "I think I am smothering you," and she
moved back to once again lie alongside of him.

Gloriana laughed, and HH asked, "What's funny?"

"I was just thinking about how I could possibly include in my reports
the fact that intercourse is possible between our two races." she
replied.

"Or the fact that our sexual odors are different," he added.

"What do I smell like?" she asked. It was apparent that she was
worried that he had found something to be unpleasant.

"You have a slightly sweeter smell than a human female," he replied.

"And you taste slightly more sour than males I have... Frenched." she
said. "But I have no idea how to include that in my scouting reports
either."

HH suddenly became very serious. "I must still be trapped in the storm
vortex," he said gravely.

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because I am apparently still alive," he answered. "When that storm
finally spits me out, my chute will be covered in ice. It will
probably collapse and drop me a couple thousand feet to the ground."

"There is still time to complete our trip around the galaxy," she
replied. There was more than a touch of sadness to her voice.

"Don't turn this into a pity fuck," he said flatly. "Does this mental
mind fuck machine of yours supply lubricant?"

"Of course," she answered. "That part of my old programs evidently
wasn't considered inappropriate, though what they thought I would need
lubricant for if all my sexual machines were deleted is beyond me."

A small tube appeared on the bed next to them. Gloriana squirted a
small amount of it onto her hand and began applying it to HH's prick.
It stiffened rapidly under her touch.

"Now you get me ready," she said and handed the tube to him as she
turned to present her ass.

"The moon really is made of green cheese," he said with a laugh.

She looked back at him over her shoulder with a look of total
confusion. "Your anus is dark green," he said. "There's an old
children's fable on earth that says that the moon is made of green
cheese."

She still looked bewildered. "If you bend over and show someone your
ass- especially the dark ring around your anus- that is called
'mooning' them," he explained. Then he added, "Your moon is dark
green."

"Earth people are weird," she replied.

"So says the girl from wherever who pulled me into her spaceship to
have sex with me before I died."

"I guess we have a lot in common," she said. "We are both weird. Maybe
someday we can actually meet, planet-to-planet."

"If we don't destroy ourselves first," he answered and slid one
lubricated finger into her ass.

She took a deep breath and then sighed, "That feels good."

HH worked the one finger in and out until he felt resistance fading,
then he added a second finger. Again Gloriana gasped and then sighed.
She did the same when he added a third finger.

"I think you're ready," HH said softly as he centered himself behind
her. He reached under her and began to fondle her breasts as he
pressed lightly against her nether opening. He tweaked her nipples and
she pressed back sharply against him, driving him into her slightly.

He continued to rub her breasts as he slowly pushed the rest of the
way in. Then, after pausing to let her become accustomed to his size,
he began moving in and out. She was amazingly tight, but at the same
time he had no real problem pumping into her. She was responding by
ramming her ass back against his prick.

HH was afraid that Gloriana wasn't really enjoying this because she
was mostly silent, but just as he reached his limit and began to spurt
into her, she suddenly screamed out and clenched her anus tightly
around his shaft. She then pulled her arms under herself and massaged
her clit a few times before throwing herself flat onto the bed and
pulling HH down with her.

"Oh, I will miss you, Colonel Hammen," she said throatily as he lay on
top of her. "Try to remember me," she added. Then suddenly everything
was cold and dark and full of pain.


***

Colonel HH Hammen woke slowly and looked around him. He was in a bed
of some sort, naked and covered with a warm sheet and blanket.
'Intensive care of some sort,' he thought to himself. Then he added
aloud, "I'll be damned. I actually survived."

"That you did... that you did," answered a gruff voice that he
recognized as General Morris. "But how you did is a mystery to
everyone. You were in that damn cloud for over two and a half hours.
You were damned near frozen solid. The doctors say that the cold
triggered the drowning reflex or whatever they call it and you went
into something like hibernation."

A second voice that HH recognized only as one of the ground
controllers added, "Even then, you would have been a dead man because
your chute wouldn't have functioned when you came out of the storm,
but for some reason you were still in your seat with the seat chute
deployed. When the storm finally spit you out at 43,000 feet, the seat
chute collapsed, but it detached like it was supposed to and your main
chute deployed."

General Morris continued, "One of those crazy storm chasers saw you
coming down out of the sky and put it on live television. We had a
medi-vac chopper there by the time you actually landed. You've been in
a special ICU thawing out for the last two weeks. They just stopped
the medically-induced coma."

A doctor stepped over into HH's view at the side of the bed. "They
recovered the telemetry from your ejection seat," he said solemnly.
"Your body did something absolutely unheard of. Somehow it brought
itself out of the deep hypothermia for a few seconds on three
different occasions. Just before each occurrence you were right on the
edge of death. If it hadn't happened, you wouldn't have survived. But
we can't explain what triggered it."

'I can,' thought Colonel Hammen, 'but I'm not going to.'

"What's so funny?" asked General Morris.

"I'm just remembering some strange dreams I had on the way down," he
answered. "It's funny what your mind does when you are dying."

"For now, you need to concentrate on building yourself back up," said
the General. "There are a bunch of TV news shows that want an
interview. We'll work out what you can say and what you can't. The
news media knows you were testing a new fighter plane, but nothing
about the slingshot program can go public at this time."

"And you have a huge pile of get well cards," said a female voice. HH
turned to see a nurse holding a large pile of envelopes. "Hospital
procedure in circumstances like this is that all cards are opened to
insure that there is nothing improper or harmful to the patient."

She held up one of the envelopes and said, "There is one card that I'm
not sure was intended for you. There's no return address, but it has
your name on the envelope and again on the inside."

She shrugged her shoulders and handed him the envelope. " It's not
really a get well card. I'm not sure what it is."
Inside the white envelope was a green card. On the front of the card
was a rural scene of some sort with a full moon shining in a dark
green sky over what appeared to be the silhouette of a house and barn.
The moon was obviously a wheel of green cheese. Inside was a message
written in green ink. It said simply, "Until we meet again, Colonel
Hammen." At the bottom of the card it was signed, "Gloriana." 

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 
END OF STORY
 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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