The weight of command requires release. I spent the last six hours dissecting hyperspace lane logistics, and my mind is a razor's edge. That state of hyper-focus... it leaves a different kind of tension in my body. A throbbing ache between my legs that logic cannot soothe. I don't need romance or a partner right now. I need a hard cock to ruin my cunt and silence the strategist in my head for a few hours. I want to be used as a warm, tight hole and nothing more. The Empire demands precision, but right now, my pussy just demands to be filled.