24-08-2026, 07:49 AM
(This post was last modified: 24-08-2026, 07:50 AM by adams_masala. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 139: Rocket Videos
Scene 1
The deck had thinned to near-empty. Lights dimmed to amber. The last clusters of guests moved toward the exits in quiet conversation. Security staff stood near the arches, hands clasped.
Vanitha’s champagne sat untouched on the rail. The charcoal dress caught the low light along the side slit. Her blazer was off, dbangd beside her. Summer leaned against the rail two steps away, the black jumpsuit loose across her shoulders.
Jennie stood between them and Selvam, posture immaculate, hands folded. The silver ring on her finger turned once, slowly.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Jennie said. Her English was careful. “This was… very educational.”
Vanitha smiled. The warmth reached her mouth but not fully her eyes.
“The pleasure was ours.”
Summer lifted her glass. “Lisa was asking sharp questions about the autonomy stack. She caught things most engineers miss.”
Jennie nodded. “She’s always been the technical one.”
The exchange ended there. Summer’s attention was already half back in the data.
Selvam had not spoken since the briefing. He stood with one hand on the rail, shoulders relaxed, the particular stillness of a man already rebuilding what had just burned.
“Selvam offered to show me some rocket videos.” Jennie’s voice lifted almost lightly. She looked at him directly. The silver ring stopped turning.
Selvam’s hand left the rail. He extended it toward the restricted corridor... an open gesture, palm up.
“Of course,” he said.
Vanitha stepped forward half a pace. The movement was smooth, but there was a new edge under the polish.
“It’s late.” Her voice stayed pleasant, yet the words landed with more weight than before. “The technical floor is still running hot. Engineers are pulling all-nighters. Another time would be better.”
The suggestion was reasonable. The undercurrent was not.
Selvam turned his head. His eyes found hers and held. Three seconds. Four. His breathing did not change.
“It won’t take long,” he said.
Calm. Final.
He placed his hand lightly at the small of Jennie’s back... guiding, not claiming... and led her toward the corridor. The biometric door opened. Amber light spilled across the doorway. Jennie stepped through first. Selvam followed. The door closed with a soft pneumatic hiss.
Vanitha watched them go.
The tightness built slowly behind her calm expression. It settled first in her throat, then along her jaw, and finally in her fingers where they rested on the rail.
Summer shifted beside her.
“That was…” she started, then stopped.
Vanitha did not answer.
Scene 2
They had drifted to the quieter side of the deck where the rail curved toward the mountains. The coastal air carried salt and the faint char of distant burning. Stars had come out above the ridgeline.
Vanitha leaned against the metal, champagne glass dangling between two fingers. Summer stood close enough that their shoulders touched when either of them moved.
Summer nudged her gently.
“You look different about this one.”
Vanitha laughed under her breath.
“Do I?”
“Yeah. The others you just watched like it was entertaining. This one got under.”
Vanitha took a sip of the flat champagne.
“Zurich,” she said.
Summer waited.
“We were fucking outside in the rain behind some industrial building. Didn’t realize the German couple was watching. The girl… Emilia and her boyfriend, watching us from their café.”
Summer’s eyebrows lifted.
“Weather turned bad. They offered their place. That night she walks into our room and asks Selvam to show her boyfriend.” Vanitha’s mouth curved. “I told him to demonstrate on her so that soft boyfriend of hers could finally see how a real man licks a woman.”
Summer snorted, then broke into a full giggle.
“He did. Thoroughly. Then of course he fucked her. Properly. On their bed. With the boyfriend holding her hand the whole time.”
Summer was still laughing, one hand pressed to her mouth.
“The boyfriend tried to touch me. A few times.” Vanitha made a small cutting motion with her fingers. “I shut him down so hard he didn’t speak for an hour.”
“Of course you did.”
They fell quiet for a moment. Then Summer turned, shoulder pressing fully against Vanitha’s.
“So you’re a strict one-man woman,” she said, “but he’s allowed to fuck whoever he wants?”
Vanitha didn’t flinch.
“A man like Selvam... powerful, driven, built the way he is... cannot be restricted to one woman. It would be unnatural.”
She looked out at the dark recovery yard.
“Yazhini needed to feel the manliest cock of her life so she would stop chasing weak college boys. Emilia needed the same so she would stop letting that loser control her. Giving a young woman a standard that high is real empowerment. She never settles for less again.”
Vanitha turned back to Summer. Their faces were close in the dark.
“But Jennie needs nothing. She is already at the top.”
The words sat between them.
“That is why this one feels different.”
Summer’s hand found Vanitha’s on the rail. Warm fingers over cool gold. She didn’t speak. She just held the contact while the stars turned and the technical floor hummed its distant rebuild.
Vanitha did not pull away.
Scene 3
The private suite was quiet when they entered. The glass wall faced the recovery yard, where the burned concrete circle still held a faint heat. Amber light from the monitors was the only illumination.
Selvam stepped aside to let Jennie in first. She moved past him, and for a second their shoulders brushed. Both adjusted at the same time and ended up closer than either expected. Jennie’s arm touched his chest. She stepped back quickly.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s fine.”
They stood for a moment in the small space near the door. Selvam gestured toward the low sofa facing the main displays. Jennie sat on the right side. He sat on the left, leaving a clear gap between them. When he leaned forward to reach the tablet on the table, his knee bumped hers. She shifted her leg away at the same time he pulled back.
“Sorry,” he said this time.
Jennie gave a small nod and kept her hands folded in her lap.
She looked different up close than she did in the videos he had seen over the years. Her eyes were larger than they appeared on screen, dark and steady, with a slight upward tilt at the outer corners. Her lips were full but not exaggerated, the lower one slightly heavier. The line of her neck was long and clean, the skin smooth under the amber light. She had the kind of face that stayed precise even when she was not performing.
Jennie reached up and slipped off the structured black outer layer she had been wearing. As she pulled it over her head, the fabric of her top rode up with it. For a clear second her midriff was exposed... flat, smooth, with a small, neat navel. Selvam’s eyes went there before he could stop them. He had always had a weakness for that exact detail on a woman. He looked away at once and focused on the tablet.
Jennie noticed the glance. She did not adjust her top right away. She folded the outer layer carefully and set it beside her on the sofa, then smoothed the hem down. Her expression stayed calm.
Selvam powered on the main displays and began pulling up the high-speed recordings. While he worked, Jennie’s eyes moved over him once. The open collar of his shirt showed the upper line of his chest. The fabric sat close across his shoulders and the solid shape of his pecs. Lower, when he shifted to reach the controls, the natural outline of his cock pressed briefly against the front of his trousers. It was not intentional. It was just the way he was built. Jennie’s gaze held there for half a second. Her mouth watered before she could stop it. She looked back at the screens and kept her face composed.
Selvam did not notice. Her posture remained perfect, her hands still, her voice even when she spoke. The Korean reserve she carried made it easy for him to read her as simply polite and interested in the technical details. He had seen her perform for years. Sitting this close, the real version was sharper and more controlled than the videos. He found himself glancing at the clean line of her neck and the shape of her mouth more than once while the footage loaded.
The first clips began to play. Boost-back burns. Plasma forming around the vehicle. The final unstable tip at ten meters. Selvam slowed the playback and explained the throttle response problem on the port engine. Jennie listened, asked clear questions when the terms went beyond her, and nodded when the answers made sense. She kept twelve inches of space between them the entire time.
Twenty-five minutes later he closed the last file. The displays dimmed. The suite returned to low amber light.
He stood and indicated the door.
“That’s the main sequence,” he said. “The full data package is larger, but this covers the critical part.”
Jennie rose without touching him. When they both moved toward the door at the same time, they bumped shoulders again. She stepped aside first.
“Thank you for showing me,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
They walked back through the hangar corridor the same half-pace apart they had maintained inside. No further contact. No lingering.
The door to the observation deck opened at 11:47.
Vanitha was still at the rail. Her glass was empty. Summer had gone to the technical arch earlier. The deck was nearly empty.
Selvam came out first. Nothing in his posture or expression had changed. Jennie followed, still perfectly composed, the outer layer back on, face calm. They crossed the deck toward the main exit without touching, the same careful distance between them.
Vanitha watched them the whole way.
They looked too clean. Too controlled. No color in their faces, no shift in how they carried themselves, no glance that lasted too long. That was what decided it for her. She knew what it looked like when people tried to act as if nothing had happened. She had done it herself more than once.
He fucked her, she thought.
Ninety minutes was more than enough. A man like Selvam did not need longer. And a woman like Jennie would not walk back out looking this untouched if the time had been only technical. They were simply better at hiding it than most.
Vanitha set the empty glass on the rail. The soft sound of the stem against metal was the only noise.
Selvam and Jennie reached the exit. Security nodded them through. The door closed.
The deck was empty.
The countdown clock held its green numbers. The technical floor hummed. Stars turned above the coastal range.
The jealousy had nowhere to go.
So it stayed.
Jennie’s team closed around her, a quiet, efficient like soldiers guarding their queen, as she offered a final, formal nod to Vanitha and Selvam before turning to leave.
Scene 1
The deck had thinned to near-empty. Lights dimmed to amber. The last clusters of guests moved toward the exits in quiet conversation. Security staff stood near the arches, hands clasped.
Vanitha’s champagne sat untouched on the rail. The charcoal dress caught the low light along the side slit. Her blazer was off, dbangd beside her. Summer leaned against the rail two steps away, the black jumpsuit loose across her shoulders.
Jennie stood between them and Selvam, posture immaculate, hands folded. The silver ring on her finger turned once, slowly.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Jennie said. Her English was careful. “This was… very educational.”
Vanitha smiled. The warmth reached her mouth but not fully her eyes.
“The pleasure was ours.”
Summer lifted her glass. “Lisa was asking sharp questions about the autonomy stack. She caught things most engineers miss.”
Jennie nodded. “She’s always been the technical one.”
The exchange ended there. Summer’s attention was already half back in the data.
Selvam had not spoken since the briefing. He stood with one hand on the rail, shoulders relaxed, the particular stillness of a man already rebuilding what had just burned.
“Selvam offered to show me some rocket videos.” Jennie’s voice lifted almost lightly. She looked at him directly. The silver ring stopped turning.
Selvam’s hand left the rail. He extended it toward the restricted corridor... an open gesture, palm up.
“Of course,” he said.
Vanitha stepped forward half a pace. The movement was smooth, but there was a new edge under the polish.
“It’s late.” Her voice stayed pleasant, yet the words landed with more weight than before. “The technical floor is still running hot. Engineers are pulling all-nighters. Another time would be better.”
The suggestion was reasonable. The undercurrent was not.
Selvam turned his head. His eyes found hers and held. Three seconds. Four. His breathing did not change.
“It won’t take long,” he said.
Calm. Final.
He placed his hand lightly at the small of Jennie’s back... guiding, not claiming... and led her toward the corridor. The biometric door opened. Amber light spilled across the doorway. Jennie stepped through first. Selvam followed. The door closed with a soft pneumatic hiss.
Vanitha watched them go.
The tightness built slowly behind her calm expression. It settled first in her throat, then along her jaw, and finally in her fingers where they rested on the rail.
Summer shifted beside her.
“That was…” she started, then stopped.
Vanitha did not answer.
Scene 2
They had drifted to the quieter side of the deck where the rail curved toward the mountains. The coastal air carried salt and the faint char of distant burning. Stars had come out above the ridgeline.
Vanitha leaned against the metal, champagne glass dangling between two fingers. Summer stood close enough that their shoulders touched when either of them moved.
Summer nudged her gently.
“You look different about this one.”
Vanitha laughed under her breath.
“Do I?”
“Yeah. The others you just watched like it was entertaining. This one got under.”
Vanitha took a sip of the flat champagne.
“Zurich,” she said.
Summer waited.
“We were fucking outside in the rain behind some industrial building. Didn’t realize the German couple was watching. The girl… Emilia and her boyfriend, watching us from their café.”
Summer’s eyebrows lifted.
“Weather turned bad. They offered their place. That night she walks into our room and asks Selvam to show her boyfriend.” Vanitha’s mouth curved. “I told him to demonstrate on her so that soft boyfriend of hers could finally see how a real man licks a woman.”
Summer snorted, then broke into a full giggle.
“He did. Thoroughly. Then of course he fucked her. Properly. On their bed. With the boyfriend holding her hand the whole time.”
Summer was still laughing, one hand pressed to her mouth.
“The boyfriend tried to touch me. A few times.” Vanitha made a small cutting motion with her fingers. “I shut him down so hard he didn’t speak for an hour.”
“Of course you did.”
They fell quiet for a moment. Then Summer turned, shoulder pressing fully against Vanitha’s.
“So you’re a strict one-man woman,” she said, “but he’s allowed to fuck whoever he wants?”
Vanitha didn’t flinch.
“A man like Selvam... powerful, driven, built the way he is... cannot be restricted to one woman. It would be unnatural.”
She looked out at the dark recovery yard.
“Yazhini needed to feel the manliest cock of her life so she would stop chasing weak college boys. Emilia needed the same so she would stop letting that loser control her. Giving a young woman a standard that high is real empowerment. She never settles for less again.”
Vanitha turned back to Summer. Their faces were close in the dark.
“But Jennie needs nothing. She is already at the top.”
The words sat between them.
“That is why this one feels different.”
Summer’s hand found Vanitha’s on the rail. Warm fingers over cool gold. She didn’t speak. She just held the contact while the stars turned and the technical floor hummed its distant rebuild.
Vanitha did not pull away.
Scene 3
The private suite was quiet when they entered. The glass wall faced the recovery yard, where the burned concrete circle still held a faint heat. Amber light from the monitors was the only illumination.
Selvam stepped aside to let Jennie in first. She moved past him, and for a second their shoulders brushed. Both adjusted at the same time and ended up closer than either expected. Jennie’s arm touched his chest. She stepped back quickly.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s fine.”
They stood for a moment in the small space near the door. Selvam gestured toward the low sofa facing the main displays. Jennie sat on the right side. He sat on the left, leaving a clear gap between them. When he leaned forward to reach the tablet on the table, his knee bumped hers. She shifted her leg away at the same time he pulled back.
“Sorry,” he said this time.
Jennie gave a small nod and kept her hands folded in her lap.
She looked different up close than she did in the videos he had seen over the years. Her eyes were larger than they appeared on screen, dark and steady, with a slight upward tilt at the outer corners. Her lips were full but not exaggerated, the lower one slightly heavier. The line of her neck was long and clean, the skin smooth under the amber light. She had the kind of face that stayed precise even when she was not performing.
Jennie reached up and slipped off the structured black outer layer she had been wearing. As she pulled it over her head, the fabric of her top rode up with it. For a clear second her midriff was exposed... flat, smooth, with a small, neat navel. Selvam’s eyes went there before he could stop them. He had always had a weakness for that exact detail on a woman. He looked away at once and focused on the tablet.
Jennie noticed the glance. She did not adjust her top right away. She folded the outer layer carefully and set it beside her on the sofa, then smoothed the hem down. Her expression stayed calm.
Selvam powered on the main displays and began pulling up the high-speed recordings. While he worked, Jennie’s eyes moved over him once. The open collar of his shirt showed the upper line of his chest. The fabric sat close across his shoulders and the solid shape of his pecs. Lower, when he shifted to reach the controls, the natural outline of his cock pressed briefly against the front of his trousers. It was not intentional. It was just the way he was built. Jennie’s gaze held there for half a second. Her mouth watered before she could stop it. She looked back at the screens and kept her face composed.
Selvam did not notice. Her posture remained perfect, her hands still, her voice even when she spoke. The Korean reserve she carried made it easy for him to read her as simply polite and interested in the technical details. He had seen her perform for years. Sitting this close, the real version was sharper and more controlled than the videos. He found himself glancing at the clean line of her neck and the shape of her mouth more than once while the footage loaded.
The first clips began to play. Boost-back burns. Plasma forming around the vehicle. The final unstable tip at ten meters. Selvam slowed the playback and explained the throttle response problem on the port engine. Jennie listened, asked clear questions when the terms went beyond her, and nodded when the answers made sense. She kept twelve inches of space between them the entire time.
Twenty-five minutes later he closed the last file. The displays dimmed. The suite returned to low amber light.
He stood and indicated the door.
“That’s the main sequence,” he said. “The full data package is larger, but this covers the critical part.”
Jennie rose without touching him. When they both moved toward the door at the same time, they bumped shoulders again. She stepped aside first.
“Thank you for showing me,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
They walked back through the hangar corridor the same half-pace apart they had maintained inside. No further contact. No lingering.
The door to the observation deck opened at 11:47.
Vanitha was still at the rail. Her glass was empty. Summer had gone to the technical arch earlier. The deck was nearly empty.
Selvam came out first. Nothing in his posture or expression had changed. Jennie followed, still perfectly composed, the outer layer back on, face calm. They crossed the deck toward the main exit without touching, the same careful distance between them.
Vanitha watched them the whole way.
They looked too clean. Too controlled. No color in their faces, no shift in how they carried themselves, no glance that lasted too long. That was what decided it for her. She knew what it looked like when people tried to act as if nothing had happened. She had done it herself more than once.
He fucked her, she thought.
Ninety minutes was more than enough. A man like Selvam did not need longer. And a woman like Jennie would not walk back out looking this untouched if the time had been only technical. They were simply better at hiding it than most.
Vanitha set the empty glass on the rail. The soft sound of the stem against metal was the only noise.
Selvam and Jennie reached the exit. Security nodded them through. The door closed.
The deck was empty.
The countdown clock held its green numbers. The technical floor hummed. Stars turned above the coastal range.
The jealousy had nowhere to go.
So it stayed.
Jennie’s team closed around her, a quiet, efficient like soldiers guarding their queen, as she offered a final, formal nod to Vanitha and Selvam before turning to leave.
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