Yet this man had learned, surely, that no matter what these women looked like on the outside, inside they were all the same: pink and spongy and slippery-snug, ready to be mounted, pushed wide, and absolutely filled with every writhing gout of his sperm. Yes, he knew—he knew. She could see it in his knowing gaze, could feel it in the way his rugged hand gripped her yielding flesh…
In a moment, however, the man replaced the damp cap once more and looked down again at the naked girl he still clutched tight against him. “This way for you, little lady,” he told her, not unkindly, giving her bare hip and buttock a casually familiar pat. He shifted his grip to her slender wrist, pulled her inboard to the central corridor, and closed and dogged the inner hatch of the airlock with his free hand.
