I’m sure I’ve been MORE nervous in my life, I just couldn’t recall WHEN at the moment the countdown reached eight. I heard the ratcheting clank of the hoses separating from the external fuel tank of the shuttle, hoses which had just finished pumping in liquid oxygen to supply the oxidizer for the main engine burn. The main engines themselves were ignited a moment later, shuddering our compartment. The main engines would not actually be fired until launch of course but the shudder was the final sign of imminent blast-off. Only one previous shuttle had been aborted after this point. We were REALLY going up this time.
Two previous delays had scrubbed the launch of Soyeuz V. One, due to weather, had kept us from even entering the crew compartment. We’d never even donned our bulky spacesuits. The second had occurred fifty-three minutes before launch when a two-dollar fuse (for which the government had probably paid more than a thousand bucks) that regulated power to the crew escape hatch burned out, scrubbing us. This launch signified our last chance to hit our window this month. It looked like it we were finally going to leave the pad this time.
I braced myself in my chair as the countdown reached zero. I braced myself even though I was as strapped in as a man could possibly be. My shoulder and waist restraints were cinched tight enough to break a clavicle or a pelvis had I not been adorned with the eighty-pound space suit. A space suit which, I might add, the ill-fated crew of a previous mission had found pretty much useless. I had no illusions. If something went wrong, it was my ass. I only hoped it would be quick; so quick I wouldn’t even notice it.
“Ignition.” I heard in my headset. A moment later the solid rocket boosters were ignited, the main engines were throttled up, and the shuttle leapt off of the pad.
Vibration and incredible noise filled the crew compartment and I was pushed back forcefully in my seat under the effects of three times the force of normal gravity. It (the acceleration, NOT the noise) was less than I’d endured in training in the centrifuge, I’d made it all the way to nine G’s before passing out, but it was different all the same, more intense. I knew that this pressure on my body meant I was being blasted off of the earth and into space. It meant that the launch had gone forward. The main engines could be shut down at any time but solid rocket boosters are like fireworks; hell, they ARE fireworks when you come right down to it. Once they are lit, there is no turning them off. They would burn, pushing our little vehicle upward, until they were out of fuel. We were committed.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of oxygen and nitrogen that came through the breathing system. I closed my eyes, enduring the uncomfortable sensation of acceleration, waiting for it to be over. This was the most dangerous part of a space mission; the part most likely to produce a catastrophic result; the orbital burn. More than a million individual parts had to work perfectly in sync with each other. If one little widget decided to say ‘fuck it’, we were toast.
I did not even have the luxury of monitoring what was going on as we ascended. I was not a pilot; I was a payload specialist, sitting two seats behind the mission commander. I heard his transmissions in my earpiece but I did not have access to his telemetry. If my ass was about to be obliterated, the last thing I would hope to hear would be ‘Shriharikota, I’m reading a failure on… ‘.
I heard the report of our transitional roll to orbital inclination. I felt the shudder of separation as the SRBs burned out and were ejected. I was particularly nervous during this period. It was about here when the Aryabhatta had gone up.
This all went off without a hitch however. The main engines burned for a few more minutes and then shut off. The acceleration ended, literally lifting a great weight from us, and we were in zero-G. We were in orbit. My lifelong dream had been achieved. I was safely in space, moving at nearly eighteen thousand miles an hour.
“All right guys.” Commander Vlyadamir told us over the intercom. He’d flown in space four times before and was therefore a veteran. “Let’s get these space suits off.”
This was, as I may or may not have mentioned or implied, my first space mission. I’d been an “astronaut” for more than two years but the highest I’d flown before had been my flights on the so-called “vomit-comet”, a KC-135 that had been converted for zero gravity training. It was a pathetic simulation of what zero-G was REALLY like I was quickly discovering.
I have a doctorate in orbital dynamics. Though I am assigned to ISRO, my actual job it to oversee the development and deployment of infrared detecting geosynchronous spy satellites. Soyeuz was tasked, among other things, to launch such a satellite who’s purpose was to hover above the Indian Ocean, replacing an outdated satellite that had been there since the late 1980s. The satellite in question could detect the launch of something so small as a SCUD missile by it’s infrared plume anywhere in the Eastern Hemisphere of Earth. I’d worked out the proper positioning for the thing in our limited slot of geo orbits and was tasked to oversee its deployment. I’d worked the last twelve years of my life for the moment I was finally shot into orbit around the Earth via highly explosive elements.
I was but one member of a crew of seven on the Soyeuz that mission, the only Indian. There were 5 Russians and 1 Chinese. The spy satellite launch was but one of our tasks. We were also studying solar flares from the sun, the development of chicken embryos in zero gravity, and, as always, the effects of zero-G on the human body.
Of the seven of us astronauts, only two of us had never been in space before. They were Jackie Yee and myself. Jackie was not really an astronaut. She was not employed by ISRO but was a Chinese research specialist; a biologist at IIST. She’d received a few months of ISRO training predatory to being launched with her experiment; which she’d worked six years upon. Jackie was in charge of the chicken embryos. She was THE authority, not just on chickens, but on any kind of poultry you could possibly imagine. She had a Ph.D. in poultry. The chicken doctor, we called her, good naturedly of course; and she’d always taken this well. Eventually her nickname (astronauts LOVE giving each other nicknames) evolved into “CD”. By the time of launch we were all calling her this. From her I’d learned more about the life cycle, breeding cycle, and death cycle of chickens than I’d ever hoped to know. She was an accepted, though minor member of our crew. She’d trained with us in the simulators, had gone up with us in the vomit comet, had participated in the pre-launch flight in the MiGs, even taking the stick for a short time in the back seat of the specially modified trainer that Commander Vlyadamir flew. She’d proved to us all that she had a set of balls.
She was my age, thirty-one, and in exquisite shape; a ISRO requirement. She was an attractive woman of oriental descent, her family having come to India in the Chinese Civil war era. She was childless and twice divorced. As the two “virgin” members of the crew, Jackie and I had bonded during training. On the rare occasions when we, the crew, had time to go out to a bar for a few drinks, Jackie and I used to sit together and talk, sharing our experiences in life. I learned that she had incredible trouble maintaining relationships with men. The problem was that she was almost eerily intelligent; her IQ was nicely above what was considered to be genius. Apparently most men were intimidated by that simple fact. Men don’t like women who are smarter than they are.
My own IQ, while up there on the scale, was nowhere near hers. But she never intimidated me. On the contrary, I found conversation with her stimulating and thought provoking (when she wasn’t talking about chickens, that is). Her points of view on every issue from the JNU scandal to the Crisis in Dadri were well thought-out and well-spoken, full of insight. As the weeks prior to launch went by I found myself infatuated with her.
Like her I was divorced and childless, though I could only claim a single previous spouse. My wife had been a paediatrician that I’d met in graduate school. An attractive woman and a wonderful wife that had simply been unable to adapt to the amount of time I had to spend away from her at the Air Force, my previous employer before joining ISRO. By the time I’d been picked up as a future astronaut our marriage had been teetering on the brink. The additional time away from home that ISRO required had been the final push. My story is not unusual in the ranks of astronauts.
As our training progressed CD and I fell in love with each other. One night, after a particularly drunken barbecue at Chennai Beach, we rented a cheap motel and spent the night screwing our brains out. I licked and sucked every inch of her beautiful, shapely body. She licked and sucked every inch of mine in return. We had sex in a variety of positions until nearly two in the morning, at which time we finally fell into an exhausted slumber. The next morning we had a long talk and proclaimed our deep feelings for each other. But we also knew, though we both wished to continue this relationship, that propriety would have to be our God.
The Russian Space Agency, you see, is as prudish and puritan as those seventeenth century British that used to burn witches at the stake. If they’d heard so much as a rumour that CD and I were sleeping together, or even CONSIDERING such a thing, one or both of us would have been pulled from the mission. Can’t have people that are ATTRACTED to each other in a shuttle together, can we? Though we loved each other we had both worked for many years to be put on this mission. We had no intention of fucking that up. Our relationship would be kept secret, at least until AFTER we’d touched down at the Bay of Bengal.
We are certainly not the first pair of lovers that have had to work in close proximity to each other while keeping their affections secret. Those that have been through similar situations can, I’m sure, commiserate with me. I can’t begin to tell you how frustrating it was to be next to her each day, to have brief, seemingly accidental contact, but to not be able to be alone with her in the way I wished. We did manage SOME encounters together during the final phases of training, but they were few and far between and they were NEVER enough.
To make things worse, CD had a nasty little teasing streak within her. She used to delight in whispering things in my ear during training exercises when we happened to end up next to each other. We would be about to climb into the simulator and she would whisk by me and softly comment, “my pussy is SO wet from looking at the bulge in your shorts that I’m gonna have to rub myself off in my seat”. Or as we were enduring a lecture on emergency procedures (the kiss your ass goodbye lectures) she would pass me a note that would read: “I had to fuck a cucumber last night because you weren’t there.” The note would have been rubbed across her vagina and would be emitting her sexy musk. These teasing gestures were almost more than I could take at times. I remember having to fight down hard-ons on several occasions so that my fellow astronauts, as well as my bosses, and on one occasion, the press, would not have to wonder why there was such a tent in my shorts.
But, thanks to our painful discretion, and despite CD’s teasing, we managed to keep our relationship a firm secret from everyone but ourselves. Neither one of us were scrubbed from the mission.
As we donned our space suits prior to boarding the shuttle before what would turn out to be our launch, CD whisked by me once again. She paused for a brief moment, so brief that I doubt anyone even noticed. In my ear she whispered, “Somehow, some way, I’m going to figure out a way to get your cock in me up there.” She blew a quick breath of air in my ear and then moved on. She paused and gave me a saucy smile over her shoulder before turning her attention to the task of suiting up.
I wonder if I am the only astronaut who has ever ridden the boarding elevator with a throbbing hard-on.
Once in orbit it took us nearly an hour and a half to strip out of the spacesuits and stow them in their storage compartments. Beneath them we all wore the standard work outfits, I’m sure you’ve seen them on TV before, blue shorts, white ISRO T-shirts, and deck shoes. What you don’t see in those television shots is what is UNDER the clothing. A thin vest with sticky electrodes all over it monitors our heartrate, respiratory rate, blood oxygen saturation level, and skin temperature. This information is sent to the shuttle’s communication computer and downlinked, via a series of communication satellites, to Shriharikota where a doctor watches over it (Yes, the government pays a doctor an obscene amount of money to do this). Why they feel the need to do this, I’ve never been given a satisfactory answer but I knew it would make CD’s evil plan somewhat difficult to accomplish without detection. I could just picture the flight doctor down in Shriharikota wondering why two of the crew members, a male and a female, suddenly developed heartrates in the mid one hundreds, respiratory rates in the upper thirties, and a sharp rise in skin temperature. It would certainly be odd enough for him to question it over the communication system. The only time we are not transmitting this information is when we are bathing; which is done with very damp sponges. Though the idea of screwing CD during the mission was exciting I couldn’t conceive of both of us being able to shut off our transmitters at the same time. Oh well, she was the genius. Maybe she would think of something. In the meantime, there was weightlessness to enjoy.
Zero gravity. I can not begin to describe what it feels like to be able to float through the air at will, propelling yourself along with gentle pushes against the walls or the various handholds placed throughout the two decks of the crew compartment. Or how strange it is to pull yourself DOWN the ladder between decks, going through the opening headfirst, spinning to horizontal, and then kicking off the ladder to push yourself across the room. The first time I did this I did not push hard enough and stopped halfway across the room, leaving myself stranded in the air with nothing to grab hold of to propel myself. Contrary to popular belief, you do not simply keep going across a room inside of a spacecraft. There is air pressure in there; 15 psi to be exact, and it exerts enough friction to stop your forward momentum. The second time I tried this I kicked too hard, nearly breaking my wrists when I reached the other side. CD had similar problems learning the fine points of moving about the work areas; she racked her head painfully on the ceiling between decks when she pushed upward at the wrong angle. This amused the other astronauts to no end as we went about the initial tasks of setting the shuttle up for work.
The cargo doors were opened (they have to stay open during the entire flight; they are what radiates off our waste heat), the shuttle was rolled over so it’s belly was facing the earth, and we began to unpack what needed to be unpacked. CD set up her chicken embryos. I went about the task of unpacking our consumables from lift-off storage to flight storage. The other crewmembers had other tasks to do. Though the crew quarters is a small environment for seven people it was made larger by the absence of gravity. People could pass each other in up and down orientation instead of being limited to side by side. I did notice the curious fact that we all oriented ourselves with our feet towards the floor whenever we were stationary. There is something decidedly unnerving about hovering in what your eyes tell you is an upside-down position.
As we embarked upon our first workday CD’s teasing manner did not alleviate in the least. In fact, she became more daring, more brazen. My first indication of this came before lunch. We found ourselves momentarily alone down in the lower deck. She was still working on her embryos, which were set up near the rear of the larger deck. I was working on a fouled CO2 scrubber that the computer had said was malfunctioning. The only other crewmember down there with us was Valentina Angst, the pilot. Her domain was the flight deck of course but she was locked inside the bathroom, dealing with a case of irritable bowels (another common consequence of space flight). The rest of the crew was working on the flight deck at various tasks.
When she called my name, sex and teasing were the last things on my mind. I was concentrating all of my energies upon keeping my grip on the handhold while trying to keep the little screws that held the back of the scrubber motor from floating away from me as they came loose.
“Yeah?” I asked, looking at her. Her face was neutral.
“Can you help me with something for a sec?” She asked.
“Yeah, hang on.” I said, removing another screw and then stuffing it in my pocket.
I was amused to find myself looking for a place to set down the cordless screwdriver I was using. You don’t HAVE to set anything down in zero-g. When I realized this I simply removed my hand from it and it hovered in the air near the scrubber. I had no reason to believe it would not still be there when I got back. I pushed off the wall and drifted over to her, stopping myself upon arrival by hooking my foot around a rung of the deck ladder.
“What do you need?” I asked.
She gave me her teasing smile, holding up her right index finger. “I was just putting this in my wet pussy.” She whispered to me, sliding it between my lips. She was not joking; I could taste her juices on the salty flesh of her digit. My dick immediately sprang upward.
“CD, Jesus!” I said as she withdrew the finger. I cast a nervous glance at the bathroom door where I could clearly hear Valentina grunting and farting over the vacuum noise of the “solid waste relief tube”.
“I just thought you’d like to know.” She said, reaching out and giving my dick a quick squeeze through my shorts, making my hard-on even stiffer. She looked in my eyes. “Somehow,” She told me again, “I’m going to have you up here. Count on it.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. If there were a way to do it, she would figure it out.
Over the next two days a routine was established. We worked more than twelve hours a day at various tasks that were both related to our specialty and in the category of general housekeeping. My specialty was the satellite, which would not be deployed until the third day of the mission. I checked and rechecked its programming, fuel status, engine status, and a thousand other things about its future operation. My housekeeping duties included changing the CO2 scrubbers when they became saturated and monitoring the consumables. CD worked on her chicken embryos most of the time, monitoring things about their development that I could not even fathom and transcribing the results. She seemed pleased about whatever she was finding. Her housekeeping tasks involved making sure the solid and liquid waste dumps were made at the proper times. We were rarely alone together for any length of time, but on those few occasions that we were, she never failed to steal a quick kiss, or grab my cock for an instant, or put my hand on one of her breasts, allowing me to squeeze it, or, on one memorable occasion, thrusting my hand down the front of her shorts, allowing me to finger her wet pussy for about fifteen seconds before someone started coming down the ladder.
After that encounter I’d excused myself to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Floating there eight inches above the floor I picked up the liquid relief tube and clipped on my personal urine attachment. I pushed the initiation button and the vacuum came to life. I pushed down my shorts and hauled out my stiff, rigid, much in need of relief dick. I began stroking it, the image of CD’s wet pussy against my finger in the front of my mind. I imagined sinking the object I now held in my hand (my cock, not the relief tube) into that wetness. Within thirty seconds I was shooting a pent-up load into the mouth of the tube where it was sucked down into the bowels of the shuttle, eventually to be discharged into space by CD during her routine housekeeping duties.
Feeling much better, more relaxed than I’d been the entire mission in fact, I shut off the vacuum, stowed my attachment back in it’s proper place, and pulled my shorts back up. I cleaned my hands and opened the door, floating back out into the crew quarters. CD was giving me a knowing smile as I emerged. Since no one was paying me any attention at the moment, I drifted over her way.
“I just jacked off in the bathroom while I was thinking about fucking you.” I whispered at her as I drifted by.
Her face blushed red, showing me that she could dish it out but she couldn’t take it.
From above me my last name was barked out, making me jump a little. It was Vlyadamir’s voice.
“Yeah Boss?” I yelled upwards.
“Come on up here a minute.” He told me.
CD and I exchanged a quick, nervous glance. “On my way.” I said, pushing towards the ladder and manoeuvring my way upward.
The flight deck was my favourite place to be during the mission. It was the nerve centre of the shuttle, the place where all of my instruments were, and it offered an absolutely inspiring view of the earth nearly three hundred miles below us. As I emerged I took a quick glance outside, despite my slight nervousness about what Vlyd was calling me upstairs about, I couldn’t help it. We were on the daylight side of the planet I saw, and I was able to identify the West Coast of South America far below.
I dragged my eyes away from the view when Vlyd waved me over to an unoccupied corner near the left side. Valentina was in the pilot’s seat, monitoring shuttle systems. The communications officer was sitting next to her, looking at me with a knowing grin that I didn’t care for in the least. The hydraulics specialist, Dan Freeling, was lost in a world of his own, working at a screen that showed the status of his beloved hydraulic robotic arm; the arm which would lift my satellite into orbit. I pushed myself over to Vlyd, stopping neatly by putting my foot against the wall when I got there.
He stared at me for a moment, his face expressionless. “You okay?” He asked me.
I blinked. “Sure.” I told him carefully. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He chewed on his lip for a second and then said, “Shriharikota just reported that you had a momentary surge in your heartrate, temperature, and respiration. They said it shot up alarmingly for a minute.” He paused. “I notice you were in the head when this happened.”
Holy shit! Did they know I’d just jacked off in there? I knew that actually performing coitus would be detected but it had not occurred to me for an instant that simply whipping off would push up my baseline values. I thought quickly. “I had uh… some stomach cramps in there.” I told Vlyd. “They passed.”
“Uh huh.” He replied, obviously not believing me. “Well let me give you a little advice virgin.” He said. “We all get ‘uh stomach cramps’ up here from time to time if you know what I mean. I would suggest that you time your stomach cramps a little more carefully if you don’t want the entire control centre knowing about them. Personally, when I get ‘uh stomach cramps’, I get them just before my workout period; after I’ve reported impending exercise to Shriharikota but before I’ve actually begun to do it.” He grinned. “That way they don’t think anything unusual about the sudden rise in values that the ‘uh stomach cramps’ produce. You get me?”
“Yeah Vlyd.” I said, perhaps as embarrassed as I’d ever been in my life. “I get you.”
“Good.” He said. “Keep it in mind. Don’t worry about what we told Shriharikota. Jack already covered for you.”
As I drifted back over to my workstation Jack, the communications officer, yelled to me, “Hope you feel better.”
Despite the embarrassment that this episode produced, it also gave me food for thought. I couldn’t wait to share these thoughts with CD.
The third day of the mission was my day. Our window approached and I spent more than six hours on final preparations for the satellite launch. Dan and I worked closely together, as we had in countless simulations back at Moscow. Down on earth we’d prepared for every conceivable fuck-up in the deployment. We’d trained on how to deal with things that ranged from the barely likely to the pretty much impossible. No matter what happened during the launch, Dan and I knew what to do about it. And, as is normally the case in life, we found that when trouble showed its head, it was something that hadn’t been thought of.
The satellite was released from the robotic arm where it drifted above and to the rear of the shuttle. It was tracking well and ready to have its orbital burn initiated a burn that would push it up another twenty-two thousand miles. The window in which to initiate this burn was very brief, a matter of seconds.
The plan was to pull in the robotic arm and then thrust away from the satellite, keeping us well clear of it when it’s engines ignited. However, when Dan tried to pull in the arm, alarm buzzers began sounding around us.
“What’s going on?” Vlyd, who had been hovering over us, demanded.
“Fuck me.” Dan swore. “A hydraulic line has been severed. The arm won’t move.”
My mind immediately went through worst case scenarios and came to a favourable conclusion. The hydraulic arm could be fixed by a space-walk. We had the parts on board and it would only take a few hours. If it could not, the entire assembly could be detached and kicked loose into space, allowing us to close the cargo doors and still make a safe landing. This was nothing that was going to kill us. My satellite had already been released so it was safe. If this had happened prior to that, we would have had to fix the arm and then wait for the next window three days later. But it hadn’t. My part of the mission wasn’t even in jeopardy. I imagined that Dan would have to answer some serious questions when we landed however. As far as problems went, this one was nothing.
“How long until the satellite burn?” Vlyd asked me.
“Twenty-four minutes.” I told him.
He sighed. “Okay,” He said, turning to Valentina, the pilot. “Thrust forward with the arm still deployed and get us clear. Once the satellite is safely in position we’ll start working on the damn arm.” He turned to the communications officer. “Jack, get me Shriharikota so I can report this shit.”
My satellite burned flawlessly. It streaked away from us and out of sight, the computers positioning it exactly where it was supposed to be. I monitored everything on my screen, ready to take over if needed, but it wasn’t needed. Less than two hours later our great country had a new spy in the sky, it’s solar panels open and operating, telemetry streaming towards the earth.
Once that was done we began gathering the materials needed to repair the robotic arm. They were all stored below, in the crew quarters, and both CD and myself helped dig them up and transport them to the deployment area. When everything needed was positioned Dan began donning his space suit in preparation for his extra-vehicular activity. I helped him put the suit on. When he was ready he entered the air lock and ten minutes later was out in space, beginning to work.
By a pleasant coincidence, CD and I were the only two crewmembers that were not a needed part of this operation. She was the first to grow bored. She asked Vlyd if he would mind if she went back down into the crew quarters to work on her embryos and maybe do her work out. He absently agreed.
She gave me a quick glance and then disappeared down the ladder. I knew what her glance meant. This was our opportunity. It could not get any better than this. The rest of the crew would be occupied for the next two hours on repairing the robotic arm. The only reason they would have for coming down the ladder was to use the bathroom.
For the next ten minutes my mind whirred. Part of me was afraid of attempting what CD had in mind. If we got caught doing it, I would most certainly never fly in space again and would possibly be dismissed from ISRO. I also was worried about what Vlyd would say or think if I tried to excuse myself. He was very sharp and I could not dismiss the possibility that he would suspect WHY I wanted to go downstairs.
Ironically it was Vlyd that solved the problem for me.
“Have you done your workout today?” He asked me as I watched Dan removing the housing for the robotic arm and tried to keep my dick from stiffening at the thought of fucking CD in space.
“No.” I told him. “I’ve been working on the satellite all day.”
He nodded. “You’re not really needed up here.” He said. “Unless you really want to watch Dan dissect this thing, why don’t get it taken care of? Shriharikota really rides my ass if everyone doesn’t do their workout each day.”
I nodded at him wisely, unable to believe my good fortune. The daily workouts on the rubber-band machines in the front of the crew cabin were a ISRO requirement. Their purpose was to maintain muscle tone in the arms, legs, and cardiovascular system; all of which had a much lighter load in zero-g and tended to atrophy if they weren’t exercised. Vlyd had just ordered me to go increase my heart rate.
“Sounds like a good idea boss.” I told him, pushing myself away from the wall and upward. I flipped myself upside down and then pushed off the ceiling with my feet, heading for the hatch. Vlyd, who had grabbed my left foot as it streaked away from him, jerked me to an abrupt halt in mid-air.
I looked at him enquiringly, my body stretched downward, my hands pointed towards the hatch, as he held fast to my shoe.
“Why don’t you shut the hatch while you’re down there?” He said, staring at me. “It makes it harder for us to get down to use the head but at least we won’t be disturbed up here by the noise of your, uh, workout.”
We continued to stare at each other and I felt my face flushing. He KNEW what I was going to do! And he was helping me! The man who, though I respected him immensely, I’d always thought of as having an ice cube stuck up his ass he was so calm, cool, and efficient. He was the very definition of ‘by the book’. Was I really reading his signals correctly?
“Sure Vlyd.” I finally managed to say. “Sounds like a good idea.”
He nodded, a faint grin crossing his features. “I’ll tell Jack to report that the two of you are going to be working out. Wouldn’t want them to get alarmed at a sudden rise in values now, would we? Enjoy your workout.” He said. “But don’t take too long. Someone’s bound to have to go down and take a crap or a leak before long.” With that he pushed me towards the hatch again.
Without another look back I entered the hatch and pulled myself down. As I emerged in the lower deck I could see CD working on her chickens. She smiled as she saw me. Her smile turned to confusion as I flipped myself over and pulled the metal hatch shut, latching it.
“What are you doing?” She asked, alarmed. “You can’t shut the hatch! What will… ”
“I’ve been ordered to shut the hatch.” I interrupted her, grinning, my dick already stiffening.
“Vlyd ordered me to come down here and work out.” I explained. “He also ordered me to shut the hatch so we wouldn’t disturb anyone at work up top.”
Her mouth dropped open. Her face took on one of those expressions that made you wish you had a camera. “Does he KNOW what we’re… ”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he does.”
“And the rest of the crew?”
I shrugged. “What do you think?”
“Wow.” She said, dazed. “This is really embarrassing.”
“Too embarrassing?” I asked.
She thought about it for a moment. “No.” She said, grinning. “Not at all.” She held out her arms.
I kicked off the ladder, propelling myself to her. She caught me in her arms and I felt her warm body pushing against mine. As our chests came together I felt the weight of her small breasts against me but I also felt the hard points of her medical vest too. I pulled away, knowing that if our vests were rubbing together it would screw up the telemetry. We would have to do this without chest to chest contact. Fortunately we did not have gravity to get in the way.
I twisted my body perpendicular to hers, so that I was horizontal, floating in the air and she was vertical, also about eight inches off the ground. We stared at each other for a moment. Her face looked different in orbit, more swollen and puffy since gravity was not pulling the fluid out of it down towards her feet. It added a twist of sensuality to our kiss when we finally brought our mouths together.
Our tongues came together, probing and swirling. I tasted toothpaste in her mouth, as if she’d just brushed her teeth. CD is a great kisser. I felt her mouth sliding over mine, shifting position slightly as she allowed her legs and body to drift upward, turning on the axis of her head until she too was floating horizontally in the air, our bodies now forming an L, joined at the face. When we broke our kiss a few drops of our intermingled saliva went drifting through the air. I caught it before it could get too far and wiped it on my shirt.
CD giggled. “This is going to be interesting.” She said.
We kissed a moment more, taking the time to lick and suck each other’s necks and ears. By now my shorts were bulging outward with my hard-on. She ran her hand down my flank, careful to avoid touching any of my electrodes, passing over my hips and finally coming to my thigh. Her smooth hand glided over the bare flesh of my leg, making it tingle, and then she brushed the back of her hand over the protrusion of my cock.
“Mmmm.” I sighed, pushing upwards with my pelvis, trying to increase the contact.
She pulled her hand away and then twisted her body so that her feet were pointing straight up towards the ceiling and her head was facing downward. She kissed me once more in this upside down manner, just touching my tongue with hers, and then, using my armpits for leverage and keeping herself upside down, pulled herself along the length of my body until her face was floating over my crotch. Her mouth darted down and began licking my inner thighs, just under the leg of my shorts, leaving wet trails. She sucked the sensitive skin there, even nipping at it gently with her teeth from time to time.
My breathing quickened as I enjoyed the sensation. My hands and arms floated out to the side of me. She grabbed the waistband of my shorts and underwear and began to tug on them. We both laughed when I instinctively raised my hips up to help her remove them; there was of course, nothing below my ass to impede this process. As she pulled the shorts down my legs the principals of Newtonian law forced her legs to spin down to my head. I caught her by the upper thighs, caressing and feeling the smooth, feminine flesh there while I peered between them, spying just a hint of the white panties she wore through her legband.
I began to tug on her shorts and underwear as well, sliding them down her legs. Trouble struck when she tried to pull my shorts off over my deck shoes. They bound up and she had to tug sharply to pull them free. When they finally came loose her upper body was slingshot away from me, towards the ceiling. Since I was holding onto her legs, or her shorts anyway, my body began to spin with her. My head cracked painfully into the floor, stopping my spin instantly and making me let go of CD to grab my head. This launched her across the room at an alarming velocity, spinning slowly backward, her shorts halfway down her legs. She hit the ceiling with her bare ass, bounced off it towards the fore wall of the crew quarters, and crashed into Jack’s bunk, finally coming to a stop. My shorts and underwear had separated from each other in the incident and were floating near the ceiling.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, feeling my head throb, feeling my cock deflate a little. I rolled myself over and pushed off the floor with my hands, heading slowly towards her.
“I think so.” She replied, pushing herself back out into the room. “That is certainly a hazard of sex that could never happen back on the ground though.”
I laughed. “You got that right.”
We drifted back together, both of us vertical once more. She looked down at my dick, which was now at about half-staff.
“You’re not gonna let one little incident put you off now, are you?” She asked.
“I guess I just lost interest for a moment.” I told her.
“Well let me see if I can re-interest you.” She said. She finished the job of pulling her shorts and panties off, tossing them into her bunk with just enough force to make them stay there. Her bush, like on many Orientals, was sparse and as black as night. Her pussy lips were pouting outward and her small clit was erect. Moisture glistened off of her. My dick jumped and twitched at the sight, refilling with blood.
“I think I’m interested again.” I told her, licking my lips.
She reached out and put her hand on my cock, kneading it and stroking, bringing it back to full and complete life once more. If I had not stroked off in the head the day before I probably would have came just from that.
“Let’s see what we can do here,” She told me. “Just relax and don’t fight me.”
“Okay.” I agreed, not having the slightest idea what she was talking about but willing to agree to damn near anything.
She pulled on my cock firmly. Now this is something, obviously, that you would not want to do on earth, but in space, she was able to swing my entire body back to horizontal so that I was floating three feet above the ground once more, my back towards the floor. She let go of my cock and placed her hands on my hips, sliding them around to feel my asscheeks. While she was doing this she swung her legs back towards the ceiling so that she was, in effect, standing on her hands on my hips with her mouth just inches above the head of my cock. I could feel her breath tickling it and it strained upward.
She stuck out her tongue and ran it gently around the head of my dick, using the most teasing pressure imaginable. I grunted in frustration, trying to thrust upwards into her mouth but I quickly learned that thrusting up only pushed us apart.
“Just relax.” She whispered, tonguing me quickly once more. She stabbed at my pisshole with the tip of her tongue.
“Please?” I pleaded, trembling with desire.
The please did the trick. She pulled sharply on my ass drawing the entire length of me into her wet, sucking mouth. She used her hands to push and pull me in and out while she swirled her tongue and applied gentle suction. She did this for a minute or so and then she let go of my hips while keeping her mouth firmly attached to my dick. She crossed her arms over my abdomen and then spun herself around quickly, as if she were a drill bit. She kept spinning, keeping her mouth on my cock, using her hands for momentum, making her mouth revolve around me. I’d never felt ANYTHING like it before; I’d never even imagined anything like it before.
“Ooohh.” Was all I could say to this new dimension of blowjob.
She stopped her revolutions after a moment, just when I thought I was going to shoot a load into her spinning mouth, and pulled herself off of me. Again a thick stream of saliva spun off into the air, drifting away from us. This time I let it go.
“Was that interesting?” She grinned at me, her face still upside down.
“Very.” I agreed. “Let’s do some more interesting things. Stay where you are.”
“What are you going to do?” She asked playfully.
“You’ll see.” I said.
I spun so that my feet were on the floor. I gave a soft kick upward, rising until my pelvis and my wet cock were near the bottom of her ass. I grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs apart so that I was looking down on her wet pussy. I twisted into a horizontal position and put my crotch between her legs. A quick yank on her thighs and the head of my dick was sliding deliciously through the warm lips of her pussy.
I did a little teasing of my own, sliding my cock up and down, probing a half inch in and then withdrawing, rubbing over her clit. I kept the teasing to a minimum however since I knew our time was limited. The first time she demanded that I put it in, I did. I thrust forward and buried my cock into her body, sliding into her tight slit with a squish.
“Ohhhh.” We both said together as I began to push and pull her thighs, raising and lowering her on me. After a minute or so of this she reached to the floor with her hands and gave a push, imparting our bodies with a slow spin. As I pounded in and out her, and as beads of sweat formed on my face and head, I saw the ceiling and floor revolving in my field of view, framed by the sight of my cock sliding into her slit. She gripped and squeezed me as I fucked her, juices broke free and went spinning off. I wondered if I was grinning as widely as she was. I wondered if regular sex would ever hold any excitement again after this.
“Let’s try doggy style.” She panted.
“Okay.” I panted back, letting go of her legs and allowing her to slip free, releasing gobs of her juices into the air as I did so.
We stopped our spins on the nearest wall and positioned ourselves about four feet off the ground. She bent her body into the doggy style position, showing me her firm ass and displaying her gaping cunt and hairless, puckered asshole to my view. Floating vertically, head towards the ceiling, I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me, sinking easily into slit once again. As I began thrusting once more she reached out to the nearest wall and spun us sideways this time, giggling as she did it.
It was dizzying, watching the bunks at the other end of the room spin clockwise around while fucking. I began to thrust harder, feeling the beginning phases of orgasm creeping up on me. I reached over her hip with one hand and found her clit, which I began rubbing.
“Yess.” She cried. “Ohh yess. Rub it harder, fuck me harder, spin us faster!”
I reached out with my free hand and pushed hard on the wall, importing our spin with a suicidal velocity. The bunks became a blur of color as my thrusts began to slam faster into her, making my balls slap back and forth.
A high pitched whine began to emit from CD’s mouth, a whine that I knew meant she was about to come. Her hips began banging erratically back at me, her hand slapped down on the hand I had on her clit, forcing me to push harder upon it. Our spin was rapidly slowing down but we didn’t care anymore. Her whine increased in pitch and her vaginal muscles clamped and released me, clamped and released me.
When she came her whine became inaudible but her hips came close to injuring me. I was not far behind. I felt the sensation running up my nerves from my crotch. I felt my thrusts become involuntary.
“Do it!” CD barked. “Oh God, do it!”
I came hard, shooting gobs and gobs of sperm into her clutching pussy. Some of it leaked out and joined the rapidly growing constellation of liquid drops in the air around us. When my spasms finally stopped we just sat still for a moment, still spinning softly.
When our motion finally came to a halt I carefully pulled myself out of her. A few more drops of our combined juices escaped during this process. She twisted her body around and gave me a wet kiss, sucking on my tongue. When we broke the kiss we stared into each other’s eyes.
“I really hope they have hotels in orbit soon.” She told me. “I have simply GOT to do this again before I die.”
“I can think of at least sixty more positions and movements that I’d like to experiment with.” I agreed.
“Maybe we can get a ISRO grant if we write this up.” She said.
We laughed at that. If ISRO ever found out what we’d just done, we’d be lucky to be allowed to fly on so much as a commercial airliner again in our lives.
I looked around the room for the first time and was shocked at what I saw. My shorts were hovering near the bathroom door, my underwear had been sucked up against one of the CO2 scrubbers, and drifting everywhere were drops of saliva, vaginal secretions, and semen. I also noticed the odour for the first time; the thick, musky smell of sexual contact. It was overpowering in the cramped room.
“We’d better get dressed and clean this place up.” I said.
“If we must.” She replied, still smiling.
It took us about fifteen minutes to get dressed and clean the place up. I used a hand-held vacuum that was specifically designed to clean up spilled liquids in a zero-g environment. I wondered if the designers had ever imagined their device would be used to clean up floating semen and pussy juices. I sprayed some air freshener around in the room to mask the smell (all spacecraft carry air freshener on board, as I’ve mentioned before, irritable bowels and the gas that accompanies them are common). We both even managed to bathe and change our clothes before someone finally opened the hatch and came down.
It was Vlyd and his face was expressionless as he propelled himself down the ladder. CD and I were both working on her chicken experiment (which meant she was explaining it to me). Vlyd glanced at us for a moment and then shot himself over to the bathroom. The door closed behind him and a second later the sound of the vacuum started up.
When he emerged a few minutes later he drifted over to us. CD and I stared awkwardly at him.
“How was the workout?” He finally asked tonelessly.
“It was good.” I answered, not knowing what else to say.
He nodded. “The good doctor down in Shriharikota called us a few minutes ago.”
“Oh?” CD replied.
“Yep.” Vlyd affirmed. “He said that you two are to be congratulated for such an intense workout. Apparently whatever you did, you really got your hearts pumping.”
“It WAS a good workout.” CD answered, stifling a grin.
“But he did ask that you make it a little longer next time.”
“Longer?” I asked, now stifling a grin of my own.
Vlyd nodded. “He wants to see at least thirty minutes of cardio activity each day.” He gave us a stern look. “I trust however, from now on, you two will stick to, shall we say, conventional exercise.”
“Of course.” I said.
“Yes Vlyd.” CD said.
“Good.” He said. “Why don’t you head up top pretty soon. The arm’s going to be finished in about an hour and we’re gonna need you.”
We agreed to do this and Vlyd kicked off the wall towards the ladder. As he started up he turned to us one last time. “By the way,” He said. “You’re probably wondering if you’re the first or not.” He grinned, shaking his head sadly at us. “You’re not. Lisa Galloway and I had a pretty intense workout on MY first mission.” He winked. “My commander assured me that WE weren’t the first either.”