Apollo on a Stick

	by rita (mommacita1@juno.com)

	Dedicated to Sanna - who wanted just such a sequel.

	Rating: NC-17, of course.


	"Uninhabited, huh?" Apollo hissed.

	"You can't blame me for this one!" Starbuck exclaimed angrily. "Blame the
	frakking techs who calibrate our sensors." His paused and squirmed. "Gods!
	I'm horny!"

	"You're *what*?" Apollo sputtered in disbelief. "We're about to become the
	main course at a barbecue and you're thinking about *sex*?"

	"Yeah, well you're not tied up the way I am. Not that I don't approve of
	the way you look..."

	The two pilots were each tied naked to a thick, stiff branch of some native
	plant, stretched out along the length of the branch and secured at ankles
	and wrists. Initially they had both been tied the same way, backs to the
	branches, but when the inhabitants of the planet had gotten too intimate in
	their investigation of their captors' bodies, Starbuck had responded with a
	spray of urine into the face of one of his tormentors. He had been
	summarily turned around, so that with every movement his cock rubbed the
	springy tendrils covering the branch. Apollo's captors had simply stopped
	examining him, leaving him with an involuntary hard-on that he could do
	nothing about, but which Starbuck, peering at him around the branch his
	face was pressed against, found altogether too stimulating.

	They lay some feet apart, parallel to each other, trying to ignore the
	sounds of the fire and roasting spits being built. Starbuck stared at
	Apollo shamelessly as he moved his engorged organ against the fronds,
	masturbating in desperation.

	"Starbuck, stop that!" Apollo commanded watching his wingman's rear sway
	invitingly, just out of reach. "That's ... disgusting!" It wasn't the word
	he meant - not at all - but it would have to do; letting Starbuck know how
	he really felt was out of the question. "You're a Colonial Warrior, behave
	like one for once!"

	"Captain," Starbuck spoke formally through clenched teeth, holding himself
	still with difficulty. "We are about to be *cooked*. I'm simply granting
	myself a final request. You might consider unbending enough to do the
	same."

	"If you only knew what you were asking, Bucko ..."

	"So tell me," Starbuck prompted.

	"Oh Gods! Did I say that out loud?"

	"Yup. So tell me. How bad could it be? Look at what I let you see me do."
	He moved against the branch again and moaned.

	"I want you," Apollo whispered.

	Starbuck stopped moving. "Say that again," he demanded hoarsely.

	"No. Never mind." A frond seemed to be trying to insinuate itself between
	his buttocks. He jerked to get it away.

	Starbuck moaned again. "Your timing is flawless, Captain," he commented
	caustically. "I can now die knowing my love wasn't unrequited after all.
	Great."

	"Wasn't ... Starbuck, are you serious?"

	"There doesn't seem to be much point in teasing you, does there?"

	"Frak!"

	"I wish." Starbuck stirred restlessly, thinking. "You know," he said
	slowly, "We could, umm, do this together if you can roll over."

	Apollo considered Starbuck's words, then threw himself sideways, so he was
	face down on the spongy ground cover. He moved experimentally. Starbuck
	watched him with longing in his eyes. "Mm. Thanks."

	"You're welcome." Starbuck sighed. "Of course now I can see what you're
	doing, too. It just makes it harder to know we could have..." he trailed
	off.

	Apollo stopped his rhythmic humping of the ground cover. He was silent for
	a micron, then spoke decisively. "Roll towards me, Bucko."

	"What?"

	"Roll over to me. I'll roll towards you, too."

	"Ah! I get it."

	A few bruises later, they were lying against each other. Some wiggling and
	more bruises and Apollo's member was introducing itself to Starbuck's rear.
	"This is going to hurt you, Starbuck. You're not prepared."

	"More than being roasted on a spit?"

	"Starbuck!"

	"Okay, okay. But you weren't paying much attention to how closely I was
	examined before I squirted that fellow, were you?"

	"Uh, no, I was trying to fend off my own group of admirers. But they didn't
	get around to the back. But I have nothing to slick myself with."

	"Feels like you already have."

	Apollo paused. He did feel somewhat ... damp. Actually he felt sort of damp
	all over. It was the ground cover. The slightest pressure crushed moisture
	out of it. "Hmm. Well, all right then. You're sure you're ready?" In answer
	Starbuck surged backwards as best he could, succeeding on pressing the tip
	of Apollo's organ into his anus. Apollo gasped. "I guess you are." Slowly
	the two established a rhythm to join them into one, testing the limits of
	their bonds. Finally Apollo's balls hit home. Both men increased the pace
	of their bumping and grinding.

	The sounds beyond them had ceased as their own had increased. Now,
	unbeknownst to the lovers, they were encircled by their captors, who
	watched them join with mounting distress. As the two men climaxed
	simultaneously, howling each other's names, the leader of their captors
	cried out in terror. "What have we done? We have threatened the two-in-one
	god! We are doomed!"

	Just then a pair of search-and-rescue vipers crisscrossed the sky overhead,
	their shadows tracing the clearing. The circle of natives dispersed into
	the tangle of plants and vines in all directions, screaming pleas for
	forgiveness to their gods.

	"Uh, Apollo?"

	"Yeah, Starbuck?"

	"What do we do now?"

	"Well, it'll take a while for the search team to find us."

	"True."

	"And, frankly, I don't see many options here."

	"Also true."

	"And whether we separate or not, what we've done is going to be obvious. So
	there's only one thing we can do while we wait." Apollo rubbed his
	still-hard cock against Starbuck's prostate gland.

	"You're the Captain," Starbuck moaned as he writhed, his own organ
	awakening. "I guess I'll just have to ... uh ... follow your lead."

	"Very good, Lieutenant," Apollo said approvingly, pushing in as hard as he
	could for emphasis. He withdrew slightly, saying, "There is one other thing
	we could do though." He teased Starbuck's prostate with the tip of his
	penis.

	"What's that?" Starbuck tried to squirm himself back onto his lover's shaft
	as he spoke.

	"We can hope the rescue team is Boomer and Jolly - and not Sheba and
	Bojay!" He rammed his organ home as he finished, forestalling further
	conversation.

	Starbuck's only response, partly to the thought of who might find them, but
	mostly to his lover's actions, was a long low moan.

	End



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