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But…she's got her fingers on my shoulder, and it's been so long since a female willingly touched me that I'm desperate for more. I think of her soft eyes, and I think of how I jerked my cock to her already.
I should tell her no. Letting her get close is a mistake.
"Go ahead," I say gruffly.21JERROKSophie's hand glides down my arm, and it takes everything in me not to react.
"Just a massage?" she asks. "Or do you need a deep-tissue rub?"
"Whatever. I just need to give it sensory input to process. That slows down the feedback." I'm trying to concentrate on my wrist, but it's difficult with her so near.
She makes a noise of assent, and then begins to rub small circles on my arm. "Let me know if I do something you don't like or if it's not helping."
The only thing I won't like is if she stops, but I don't say that. I say nothing at all, doing my best to ignore her while being acutely aware of her presence and her hands on my arm. I try to focus instead on my wrist, tightening the wires and then using a needle-headed hose to blow bits of dust off of the circuit board. I'm done far too quickly, and the dark, needy part of me wants to pretend to keep working so Sophie continues to touch me.
As if the rest of my body is in league with my twitching arm, my leg prosthetic starts to act up. I groan in frustration.
"Here," Sophie says, and her voice is kind. She drops to her knees next to me and rubs my leg below the knee. "I've got this."
I say nothing. I don't trust my voice. Her touch is helping, though. The sizzles of feedback are calming, and as she rubs my leg, I check the circuit on my arm again. No longer running hot. Good.
"I don't know anything about alien prosthetics," Sophie says in a quiet voice as her hands knead my calf. "But it seems to me that they shouldn't be acting like this. Is it what the others said? That they're cheap?"
"The cheapest."
"Can't you…can't you save up for better ones? I've got to think these must really bother you after a while."
I grit my teeth. "Hard to save up when you're being eaten out of your station by a giant carinoux."
She flinches, her hands going still.
I feel like an ass. "Sorry," I mutter. "I know it's not your fault. And even if I saved up for a year, I wouldn't make enough." I try to smile. "For some reason, junking isn't the most lucrative of professions."
Sophie manages a small smile, her hands moving again. "Is it one of those sorts of jobs where you need a small fortune to make a large one?"
"Pretty much." I rub my arm again, working the “muscle” a little harder. "Plus, after the war, everything was at such a premium that it was out of reach for everyone except those the military gave preferential treatment to, and they ran out, too. By the time they got to me, all that was left were the crap, cheap parts. Didn't matter anyhow because I was supposed to be dead." I shrug. "And since I was station trash, no one cared."
Her mouth purses. "That's terrible. I'm sorry."
I grunt. What else can I say? It's life. Shit happens. You just try and roll with the punches.
She goes to my foot, pulling my boot off, and when my “skin” twitches, she begins to rub it, too. I feel strange having a pretty female work on servicing my limbs with her touch…but it feels good. I usually only give my prosthetics a cursory rub to take care of the worst of it, but Sophie's hands are like magic, quieting the feedback. It's like my limbs need more stimulus than I'm giving them, and her gentle hands are providing it.
If I wasn't in so much pain, my cock'd probably be as hard as steel, but luckily—ha, luckily—the throbbing ache in my limbs has taken care of that.
"Everyone here at this station is kind of mean," Sophie comments as she rubs my ankle. "They said some really unpleasant things to you."
"They did?"
Her gaze meets mine, and there's a look of surprise on her face. "You don't remember? The men at the dock joked that you got your limbs out of the garbage. And they said mean things about you having an ooli for a wife."
Oh. I shrug, rubbing my arm still. It feels better now, but as long as she continues to touch my leg, I'm going to act like I'm struggling. It's wrong of me, but I don't care. She was concerned about me. She thought the port authorities hurt my feelings? This little human is far too…kind. No wonder she trembles like a broken thing at the slightest provocation. She's probably had a nightmare of a time since she got taken from her planet. "Maybe they did. Doesn't matter."
