Another corvette arrived on one of the citadels busy docking bay. The name of it was scorched off from another pirate attack, it was a miracle it even got back to the citadel in its shape. One of the ships thrusters had been blown off and the FTL systems were completely fried. The buckled door opened and the crew escaped from its confines, pushing cargo and weapons out into the bay. The last one to leave the vessel was a well-built, loose plated mercenary. He wore newly scarred plated armor and confident grin which told everyone in the dock he could fuck their fathers if he wanted. He tried to hide the yellow markings on his brown skin, he once had to fuck and elder into submission when he threatened to tell his age. He held in his hands a spike thrower. The condition of the weapon betrayed its age. It was clean and well-kept, nary a scratch on it. Those that could be found formed the letters of a name he proudly showed, Bragus Marg.

Marg holstered his weapon and took in the smell of fuel, the shouts of the dock works and skittering of the keepers. This was his home now and he loved the chaos of it. Tuchanka was nothing to scoff at. If you were not careful a thresher maw could eat you whole or if that did not get you a pack of varren would. The citadel was different from that. He could not really place it but of the two, he preferred the bustling station. For one there was always someone in need of a hired gun. Protection, transport, a hunt. It did not matter. He was told were to aim and who to shoot, all they needed to do was give him the credits.
As he walked into the Zakera ward he was reminded of the second reason. In an alley by the entrance were a pair of turians kissing very passionately. The kiss was broken for a second when the smaller one’s hand crept into the others pants and grabbed the protruding length. The other turian melted at the sensation. Not to be beaten he started to nibble and lick his partners neck. Marg’s crotch piece tightened as the heated display got more intimate and lewd by the minute. He wondered if C-sec had another bounty he could dump his quad into.

His lust had to wait for the moment. This day Marg could feel it deep in his crest, luck was on his side. If there was one thing he could not live without it was a glass of Burukh while watching the races. But his lucky racer was out of it the coming race; an accident had occurred on the tracks. He had no fear for that, there would always be something to bet on. To his luck an Arena Combat match was airing tonight. The Eridanus Juggernauts faced the Dark Matter Warriors. Both teams have been at each other’s throats for a while now, every match was test of their abilities. In their latest match the Juggernauts charger ran through the field, dodging shot after shot, just to get the Warriors sniper. As if that was not enough when he knocked them down he did not score. Since then every fan on the citadel have longed for another match. The conditions of the players, their injuries and personal life’s were analyzed to great lengths to decide the rates. Marg, confident as ever, did not read up. He felt it in his crest, this time the Juggernauts would win six to four. He needed them to win. He had gathered a tab the length of a dreadnought in several bars and he started to tire from hiding from collectors.

Two minutes and thirty seconds left of the match. The scores were six four to the Juggernauts. The warriors were on the offensive, their charger was flanking right of their bunker and the rest took potshots at their cover. Sweat rolled down Marg’s brow, no amount of liquor could ease the tension he felt. They just have to hold out for a few more minutes he thought. The warriors closed in, no amount of blind fire could help the Juggernauts. In an attempt to hold out they sacrificed one player to get to another position. His eyes strained watching the screen. Doubt crept up his spine, that move was not good but as long as they kept the Warriors from scoring they would win. Fifty second left on the clock. The Warriors had not scored but the player was stuck. The camera was fixated on his calm composure as the Warriors inched closer. Suddenly there was a loud boom. The four remaining Juggernauts were downed along with a Warrior. The other Warriors ran. Unconsciously, Marg started to mouth a desperate prayer. A chant of no’s and please escaped him. Every standing Warrior took their pick and tried to score. Marg took his eyes of the screen, unable to watch he listened to the announcers as they frantically described what ways they used to score. He wished for the players to have long fuses, to not cum like a virgin after a kiss. The buzzers roared, the match was over. Wearily he turned to look on the score board. A win for the Juggernauts, six to five. The realization washed over him like cold water, he lost again. A drink, he needed a drink.

He wandered into his usual dump. The human bartender recognized the krogan and prepared for his famed excuse. “No need to worry. Just have not had any jobs for a while. I will pay you back when I get some credits but how about a drink now, for old times’ sake.” Marg told it with finesse, never showing a hint of his distraught state. The bartender has had enough, he slammed his hands into the bar and glared at the krogan. He would have yelled at the leech in the stool if he were not cut off by a voice. “Are you really going to deny a customer a simple drink” a deep voice came and asked. The voice came from a volus. The rotund fellow wore a brown pressure suit and his breather glowed with purple lights. “I will pay for this Tuchanka-clans beverage, if you don’t mind” he added. The bartender served Marg hesitantly, carefully watching the volus. After serving up a bottle of cheap beer the bartender left to cater to his other guests.

Marg was suspicious. He had not taken any jobs from a volus in months and none to his memory wore purple. He eyed the volus, expecting a trick or a goon to show up soon after. The only thing that came was another question. “What’s your name Tuchanka-clan? I need something to call you.” Marg took a swig of his beer and answered swiftly. The volus hummed enthusiastically. “Marg, I happened to overhear your predicament. I could help with that. Would you be interested in working as my assistant?” Marg stared at the presumptuous volus. He was not interested in working under a tradesman, no excitement in that line of work. The volus continued “This might sweeten the deal for you. If you work for me I am willing pay your debts. Practically a steal from this vol-clan’s pockets.” Marg wondered who this guy was. He happened to be in this dump at this hour and knew of his debt. He would have teared the guys suit in half. But the deal was too good to deny. He let out a defeated sigh and weakly stammered “s-sure.”

The volus let out a triumphant laugh. Even with the breather covering their face Marg could feel a crooked smile emanating behind it. They fiddled in their suit for a moment before presenting a pristine black business card. “Perfect, you will start tomorrow. My office is on the card. Please try to be there early, I have a very hectic schedule” he said sprightly. Marg promptly took the card from the volus and looked on it. It was black as space and in a white elegant font it stood “Wots Trading”, the back mentioned where the office was located and opening hours. Marg regained his composure and scoffed at the card in his hand. “Business cards? A bit archaic don’t you think” he asked mockingly. Unfazed, the volus answered genuinely. “You don’t see much non digital advertising anymore, it makes you remember.” Marg grumbled and returned to his beer. The volus turned and walked out the bar, satisfied with his trade. Before Marg could concentrate on the cheap and bitter drink in his hand the volus shouted “Earth-clan, once the bottle is empty give my assistant another!” At least Marg would have a slight buzz by the end of the night.

After finishing his second bottle the bartender told him to leave. He begrudgingly sat up and paced out the door. For once, the ward was filled with life when he left the building. In a better state of mind Marg would have enjoyed the scene which played out before him. Friends discussing their day, couples walking hand in hand and the bright lights as the street got gradually darker. The fact that he did not wake from a blackout annoyed him. The first sign of life should be his clock or a partner in bed, not what he was watching. His bubbling displeasure halted when a felt a message vibrate. “Heya, heard you were back from the mission. The captain sure had some choice words for you, my favorite was “a mouth as big as a tresher maw”. Don’t worry I calmed him down, he could consider hiring you again if you remain in tip top shape. How about a party for another successful assignment, your place as usual?” The message was from Ticus. With the message came a photo of a light grey turian with green markings. In his hands he held a half empty bottle of brandy. He opted to go without pants but wore his favorite dark green shirt and judging by the surrounding he was already at Margs place. Marg could not help but smile as he sent a message back and hurried back home.

Ticus stood patiently by the locked door, leaning on the wall and taking small gulps from the bottle while he waited. His mandibles separating in a draw out yawn. When Marg finally entered the hallway he regained some of his energy. “You finally came” the turian said feigning disinterest, “thought you invited someone to our celebration.” Never braking his stride, Marg walked up and grabbed the turian by the chin. They shared a quick kiss before Marg opened his door. “Taught of that but I want you for myself this time” he said before kissing Ticus once more. The two caressed and groped their familiar bodies while their kiss deepened. When Marg reached the turians lower back he grabbed his cheeks and raised from the floor, Ticus locking his legs around Marg’s waist. The turians cock smearing pre across the armors middle. They separated reluctantly, allowing each other to breath and speak. “As much as I like this I would prefer a bed at my back instead of a wall” Ticus said. Marg licked up Ticus’s neck and hummed. “Only if you give me the rest of the brandy” he said eyeing the bottle in the turians hands. After a quick nod from Ticus, and a kiss on his crest, did Marg carry him into the apartment.

He laid the turian on the bed and took a big swig from the bottle. Ticus sat up and removed Margs lower armor, slowly revealing the krogans quad and muscular legs. Marg placed the bottle on his night stand and hastily took off the upper part of his armor. He had removed it just in time to see Ticus lick his mandibles and slowly glide his hand up towards the shafts head. Marg shivered at the sensation and pushed himself down onto the turian. They locked lips once more, this time Marg pushed his tongue into Ticus mouth and humped against the turians groin. Ticus released his grip on the quad to tighten it around both their cocks, masturbating them both in time with Marg’s thrusts.

Once their cocks were slick with pre, Marg let his mouth rest for a moment and turned the turian around, keeping his hands on Ticus’s hips. Ticus gasped slowly, eager for more. When they both had their filled their lungs with fresh air did Marg pull Ticus’s ass towards him. Long, savoring licks lubed the turians hole, stretching it as the tongue went deeper after every circle and lap of the taint. Ticus let out a content sigh as Marg continued to prod at his ass. “Hey” Ticus said with delight, “I got a captain in need of a mercenary if you want a job. Weapon delivery to a planet of slavers, you interested?” Marg pulled his tongue out of the well lubed hole with a wet pop. “Can’t take it. Got another job today” he said as he slid his quad up Ticus’s cheeks. “Aw. Am I not your middleman anymore? Got another set of ears in the docking bay, painfully listening to captains woes and “sorrow” the turian said taunting Marg. His response was to thrust his quad into the turian. A pained gasp escaped Ticus as he took half of Margs massive cock in one go. Marg leaned over the shivering turian and slowly pulled his cock out. “No, just that a guy I met at the bar offered me one” he said enjoying the tight feeling around his quad. “What is it then? A bounty or delivery” Ticus asked, “or maybe you will get to go treasure hunting?” Marg pushed in again, his hips pressed against Ticus’s ass. He pulled out to thrust in once more. “Will work as a volus assistant. Offered a heavy check in return” Marg said in rhythm to his thrusts.

The apartment filled with grunts of pleasure as Marg put more weight into his movements, nearly crushing Ticus underneath him. The clapping of hips accentuating every quick thrust. Ticus’s arms could no longer hold him and he fell with a moan face first into the bed. Marg moved his left and to the turians covered chest and fell backwards forcing Ticus to sit on his lap, his back against Margs stomach. “What is it big guy, can’t cum without a kiss” Ticus asked, giving Marg a peck on the cheek. A frustrated groan escaped Marg as Ticus gyrated his hips. “Nah, wanted to give you a moment of rest before I make you see stars” Marg said with a chuckle. Marg lifted Ticus until the tip of his quad was inside Ticus and then slammed him down. Ticus shot out a rope of pre onto the bed, this goaded Marg on to continue. The slow rise and powerful fall made Ticus’s head spin in pleasure. With one last thrust, Marg used all his strength to push the delirious turian into his lap and they both came with a roar. Ticus painting the sheets with cum and Marg flooding the turian insides. They fell down into the bed relishing in the afterglow. Unable to stay awake they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The krogan was roused from his deep slumber by his blaring noise. He searched drowsily for it on the night stand unable to find the source of his disturbance. Sluggishly, Marg sat up on the edge of the bed and forced his eyes open. The apartment cleaner than when he got here. His armor was laid neatly on a chair in the corner and the brandy was gone from the nightstand along with his alarm. It was still in the apartment somewhere. He turned to ask where Ticus had hidden it only to be meet by his absence. He stood up and searched every nook and cranny for the infuriating sound that his ‘good’ friend had misplaced. He checked his small unused kitchen, his modestly packed drawer and his empty weapon cabinet. Eventually he found the alarm in the bathroom next to the bottle. He hastily turned it off and walked out the bathroom, drinking the last of the brandy. As he took his armor off the chair a black card fell out it’s pocket. The sight kick started his memory, he was supposed to be there early and it would be a stretch to call it early now. With the speed of a bullet and grace of a drunk varren, he dressed himself in his armor and jogged out the apartment, carefully reading the location of office.

Finally reaching the office complex in the Tayseri ward, he looked over which of the rooms belonged to his new contractor. “Ah, speak of the devil” a deep familiar voice said. The volus Marg met yesterday walked down the corridor with a human. The human wore a dark blue suit and a white shirt under it. He walked with a hungry passion not seen in many. In contrast, his eyes were calm, slightly hidden behind a veil of dark messy hair. They both came to a halt by an unmarked door. Marg cautiously walked up to them, waiting to be shouted at for his tardiness. “Assistant, huh? It looks more like you hired a body guard” the human said in a composed voice. “I assure you there is no need to worry. Why don’t you head inside so I can talk to him?” said Wot. The human, ignoring the Wots suggestion, stepped closer to Marg and inspected him carefully. Marg was about two heads taller than the curious human and twice as wide, definitely the son of a merchant. Satisfied with his inspection, the human backed off and stated that Marg carried no guns. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Marg raised his arm and flexed, armor bending around his bulging muscles. “I think you missed these” he said with a grin. The human chuckled at the display and walked into the room with a lecherous smile. A faked cough from Wot caught Marg’s attention. “You’re late” he said strictly, “but this can still work”.

Wot walked into the office and Marg followed. It was a single small grey room with two chairs on either side and a small table in the middle. The human sat in one of them already and Wot took the other. Marg was left standing as the two discussed the intricacies of their trade, what they could offer, the logistics of it and prices. Marg did not understand half of it but whatever they discussed seemed to be a ton of work. The conversation veered away from trade into personal affairs. The travel had apparently been hard on the human, hadn’t had a moment to rest he said. “Maybe my assistant can help you relax” Wot offered, “his skills are impeccable, trust me.” Marg gave Wot a perplexed glance, asking what he had meant. The sight of the dark haired man unbuttoning his pants gave the answer.
The smell hit Marg first. It was a deep, earthy musk mixed with old sweat and dried cum, rest was not the only thing he was too occupied to do. Wot, either not having no sense of smell or just happy the human took his offer, gestured Marg to get closer and help the man relieve some stress. He obeyed and kneeled down in front of the man slowly. Marg’s head hovered above the mans exposed crotch. The man was kind enough to pull his junk out of his pants, at least Marg did not need to fish them out. His cock was not half bad, according to Marg’s limited experience with other people’s cocks. It laid soft on the man’s full, hairy sack and his tight foreskin formed a ring around the head, proudly showing the tip of his cock. Marg had to think, what did he like? As he spent a moment in silence he felt a hand grasp his crest and pull him forwards. He had apparently taken too long to think, the man got impatient and started to stroke his dick to life.

The closer Marg got to the man’s hardening shaft the stronger the smell became, invading his nostrils and mind. When he got close enough the man started to rub his cock across the krogan’s lips, smearing pre across Marg’s face. Marg opened his mouth and slowly dragged his tongue up the man’s fully erect dick. Once at the top he closed his mouth around the head and grabbed the man’s balls, lightly tugging them. The humans grip hardened, Marg taught he must be doing something right. He just had to take it slow and make him blow inside. The man put his other hand on top of Marg’s head and with a deep sigh pushed him down with all his might. Unprepared, Marg took the full force of the push, his nose now deeply nestled in the man’s musky crotch hair and feeling the human cock enter his throat. He clenched his free hand in an attempt to suppress his gag reflex and his eyes teared up on the sudden intrusion. The man held him close, using Marg’s throat and mouth as a fleshlight, as the two started their discussion once more.

What felt like an hour of the sloppiest blowjob Marg had ever been a part of was, in reality, a fifteen-minute discussion. But the lack of oxygen, and the strong musk he was forced to inhale, made his mind hazy. Even in this state, Marg refused to hand over control to the man currently abusing his power. He still grasped the man’s sack and would pull, squeeze and press on it hard when he felt the human was too eager. The man did slow his assault, the rough treatment of his sack sent shivers up his spine and made him slur his words. After five minutes this fight for dominance came to an end when a deep groan signaled the coming flood. The first rope shot directly into his gullet, forcing its way into his stomach. The rest of his potent seed flooded Marg’s mouth with such force he could not keep it all in without swallowing the bitter cum.

As his orgasm weakened so did his grip. Marg pulled himself off the saliva and cum covered dick, deciding to breath and cough at the same time. “We have a deal then” Wot said interrupting the man’s afterglow, “four thousand credits in shipping with an extra three thousand for a discreet delivery.” The man let out a satisfied sigh and collected himself. “Yeah, sounds good it should be on site in a week, give or take a day” the humans said cleaning his dick with Marg’s face. Satisfied with the deal, the man stood up and gave Wot a firm handshake. “Happy doing business with you” he said as he left the office.

Marg, having fully recovered from the ordeal, raised himself with what pride he had. Wot, ignoring the krogans attempt to seem high and mighty, swatted him on the ass and walked out, Marg left soon afterwards.

With his back straight, and face still messy with human cum, Marg followed the merchant out the office complex. He cursed the volus under his breath for forcing him to service that man, Marg may have had a tendency to forget to shower once in a while but he always looked his best for a meeting, even if Ticus had to remind him. His new boss could have at least given him the chance to wash up but when Marg asked the colus said he looked better that way, it fit better for a man of his station. Marg would have clenched his fist in rage at the comment, probably teared the volus’s suit in half so they would have to struggle the last moments of his life, but the promise of a clean slate still itched at the back of his mind. With a deep sigh he wiped some spit and cum from his face with his arm, sullying the battle-scarred hunk of metal. He knew it was just a cheap piece of scrap but it felt weird seeing the remains of the meeting covering a scorched circle from a Viper shot he got a couple of months back. As if the volus had eyes in their neck, they turned around and snapped their fingers. “You are lucky he has a thing for big guys” Wot started harshly, “If it were not for that I would have wasted three weeks and, more importantly, valuable credits just because you look like you just came from a firefight.” Marg stopped in his tracks, the usually jovial tone Wot carried had disappeared. “That’s because I came from one, our corvette almost blew up two days ago” Marg protested. “Besides, I’m a mercenary. I expect to be shot by bullets and plasma, NOT by some guy’s jizz” he finished.

The silence was deafening as the Marg glared at Wot’s mask, trying to gleam any emotion from it. As people started to stare at the quarreling aliens Wot decided to concede the staring contest and signaled to keep walking, this time side by side. “You must forgive this vol-clans memory. With how skilled you were I forgot this was your first day” Wot said, his happy tone returning. Deciding to ignore the insult Marg stayed silent. “But you must see it from my perspective little Tuchanka-clan. Someone like you looks dangerous, especially in that armor. It may be suited for a business deal where C-sec has no eyes but not between two upstanding businessmen. If the deal falls apart then I can’t pay you for your work, let alone all your debt…” Wot seemed to have more to say but decided to leave what he said be. Marg tried to see any flaw, crack or hole in the volus’s reasoning but was unable to. You only wear armor if you expect to get into a fight. Sure, around bars or alleys it is good to have but he does not know when he would fight again. As slowly as they walked, Marg came to accept what the volus said. “I understand. My camo is not fit for the battlefield” Marg eventually said calmly. The volus, surprised by the phrasing, only hummed in approval. “I usually pay my employees on a monthly basis but I can make an exception today, if you use it to buy better “camo”” Wot said turning a corner into a plaza. The plaza was a normal for the citadel. Open spaces, small statues, shops and cafe’s spread among the surrounding buildings and, of course, people, lots of people. Couples holding hands, friends playing strip football and quick hookups could be seen from the opening Marg came from. He felt something poke him in the side and turned to see Wot fiddling in his pocket. “Don’t mind me. Just trying to get your codex out so I can transfer your payment” he said quickly. Marg barely had the time to think of some way to shove him away before he left the pocket and waltzed away. “You’re free for the day Tuchanka-clan. I had planned for another meeting but lucky for you something has stopped his transport.” Wot said walking back where they came from, “I expect you spend all your credits on new clothes, it is an investment after all.”

Marg fished out his codex while trying to process what the volus had meant by that last part. To his surprise, there was a transfer of seven-hundred credits to his account and he felt a familiar urge appear. He tried to remember if anything big happened today. Anything would work in the right crowds, even two drunks fighting. A salarian wearing a gray jacket and shorts brought him out of his daze by accidentally bumping into Marg. He realized he needed to keep a level head and some help when it came to picking out good clothes. He opened his messages and asked if Ticus was free for the afternoon. “I’m always free for a friend and some fun. Where are we meeting, mine or yours?” Marg snapped a pick of the plaza and sent it, hoping that Ticus knew the place. “There? What a change of scenery. You need to get assigned on the citadel more often if you get bored this much. I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before he could close the codex Ticus sent a picture of himself in the mirror doing a pose, dripping with water which accentuated the curves on his carapaced body. “Maybe clothes shopping won’t be so bad” Marg caught himself thinking.

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:34 UTC
Views: 400