Chrone Zone

Do not venture to understand what I say to you, this is folly. Instead, endeavor to create the Truth from my words.

- Brondo

Gorb strained against the harness of his Nav Suit trying to catch a glimpse of the far-out Loveorb as it’s 69 thrusters carried it from behind the Binary Stars That Look Like Boobies and into view. Squinting against the glare, Gorb restlessly thumbed at the switch on his Jazzblaster 5000, flicking the sonic weapon from Groovelerize to Cum. This ain’t the time for no shoot-from-the-hip jazz fuckery. In a way that is very much like Johan Heinrich, it’s time to lay the hammer down.

Gorb turned to his ragtag crew of SpaceTime Jazztronauts, sensing for the first time the intensity frothing just beneath the surface of their dune pieces. This wasn’t going to be no back alley gang-bangerin’ fuck-show. This was a full blown inter-organism fuck-fest the likes of which had never been witnessed beneath The Righteous Sky... or any other sky for that matter.

“Strap up, shit birds. Ain’t no time for jizz jazzing around, we have minds to blow.”

Gorb’s crew snapped to attention as if waking from a dunes-age of Domeogenic Deepnap. The Jazzcraft drew closer to the Orb and as it did the faint silhouettes of creeptures from every corner of the multi-verse could be seen in sharp relief against the inner pink glow of the intergalactic fuck ball. Creeptures in ecstasy; bumping uglies, nudging pretties, dicks to balls, tentacles to thoraxes, tits to the very breeze, butt cheeks bare, flapping gills, exchanging gasses, soaking fuck tubes, bones tapping, various excretions swapped... even kissing.

It was all there for the bare-ass naked eye to see.

In mere nano-hours Gorb’s craft would be absorbed by the groovitational pull of the orb. If his men had any chance of maintaining cumposure long enough to jazz their way to the inner confines of the orb, they would need to stay tight and locked into a righteous jarm. Their jizz was integrally linked to their jazz. But any slip up in their jazz could lead to a premature jizzing that would force them to beat a hasty retreat in pants-ruining shame.