Sex in space is amazing. The main event requires some forethought to avoid chasing each other around the room. But there are things you can do that just won’t work on the ground.

All the plans and preparations led to this hour with just the two of them. Their garments hovered about the small room.

“You first,” said Sooz. She was tall—in heels, taller than him— with long legs and full breasts. Long red wavy hair was almost her trademark; the business press called her the Titian Titan or Amber Amazon. Lionesses don’t have manes, but that is what her tresses evoked, according to multiple published profiles. Without gravity, that mane became a wondrous halo, every movement making it undulate.

Each had proposed a sex position they wanted to try. Brad’s idea was to make an axle of his penis and spin Sooz around it. They docked in a drifting sixty-nine to prepare their organs. Familiar attentions soon overcame the stress and complication of where they were and why.

Sooz grabbed her ankles in a yoga forward bend, achieving the effect he hoped. He moved to the insertion spot—behind or below or above, weightless directions are confusing. Holding her thighs, he pulled her body to him, sliding in easily. Brad ground into her for a bit, ensuring tender parts were well lubricated.

“Nice,” sighed Sooz, holding herself open. The rest was up to him. “Spin me!” she encouraged.

Pulling one leg and pushing the other started both bodies turning in contrary directions, as the laws of physics required and Brad expected. Unfortunately, biology had not arranged for either penis or vagina to be located at the center of mass of a body, and that is the point around which they could rotate. Sooz held her pose as his cock popped out and Brad grabbed her ass to try again. Despite several more attempts, he couldn’t prevent them from spiraling apart.

“I give up!” he laughed, grabbing her foot before she spun too far away. “Your turn.”

Sooz’s design had them meet perpendicularly in what she called the Two-Piece Burr position after that kind of wooden puzzle. She held his left foot at her waist as he straightened out in front of her. Brad lifted his right leg out in front of him (straight up to her). She raised her right leg (careful not to kick him) so it was parallel to and above his left leg. Drawing them together by pulling on his leg, the necessary bits were soon within inches.

Brad hugged her right leg against his chest and she did the same. She closed the final distance, aiming him into her opening while clutching his leg with her left arm.

“It worked!” he exclaimed, feeling her warmth enfold him. They shook hands in celebration then gripped hands like arm-wrestlers for more stability.

Floating in space, their extended legs didn’t have to support their weight and weren’t constrained by the bed or the ground. Their mutual grasp gave them leverage to move against each other. Like the cowgirl position, each could see the other’s face and torso.

“Fuck me, Brad,” she urged. They adjusted their positions, finding that a slight rotation improved it.

“That’s good for me, my love,” she sang, the unconventional angle and their outstretched legs providing enough stimulation. Her climax would soon be within reach. Both wanted this time to be special.

“Sooz, I’m sorry,” Brad said, stopping his thrusting. “This is wonderful and you should file a patent. I could cum any second.” He wiped his eyes, sending some droplets sailing away—teardrops don’t form and fall in orbit.

“It’s the last time. I need to hold you close,” he whimpered.

The reality they had buried was digging its way to the surface. Sooz dispersed the sudden blur in her own eyes and quickly moved to disengage. Like a circus acrobat, she pulled herself around his body and hooked her forearm around his neck. Brad hugged her and she wrapped her legs around him.

Locked eyes ignored the slowly spinning room around them. Mouths met and, as positioned by eons of evolution, so did genitals. Passion of the heart more than the body fanned the flames in that contact. When instinct accelerated their movements, they surrendered to their humanity. In the tiny high-tech bubble floating in the emptiness of space, that earthly act nourished their love.

If husband and wife hadn’t been two of the richest people on the planet, they would not have had that luxury. First separately, then together, they had earned and spent fortunes making life better for people. Their medical researchers prevented, cured, and ameliorated more diseases every day—with one significant exception.

Brad was diagnosed with Queen’s Dance disease, a genetic disorder that acquired the name because of the sequence of monarchs it afflicted with increasingly jerky movements as the nervous system slowly destroyed itself. There was no cure—yet.

This orbiting tomb was their scheme to solve the problem. Promising research results suggested twenty years might be enough; by taking this step, it wouldn’t matter if it took longer. The freezing technology worked on mammals, so it should work on him. The challenge was to guarantee that temperature and power could be maintained for the duration. No earthbound facility could make that promise half as well as the cold of space and solar panels.

Officially—being rich allowed many things to become official—he was already dead from a failed treatment and this gravesite was provided by his space technology company. They even called the chamber a sarcophagus after the ancient Egyptian way of ferrying the ruler to the next life. Both hoped it would do the same for Brad.

Sooz would be the last thing he would see before he was frozen. She promised she would be the first thing he would see when he was thawed. Inside the enclosure, he smiled at the love of his life as she gave him the injection, struggling to keep his eyes open as she kissed him until he lost consciousness.

From the bottom of a well, cold and dark, he heard a distant voice. He knew it; it was her.

“Brad, my love. I’m here. Your Sooz is here. Everything is okay. It will take time. Relax. Trust me. I love you.” Her words were soothing as they repeated over and over an unknown number of times before he understood them.

“Brad, this is Sooz,” she said, ending the loop. “The instruments show you are awake. Hearing comes back first; I want to confirm that. Do you remember I promised to be the first thing you would see when you awoke? Your eyes don’t work yet, but I am here with you completely naked. Do you remember what I look like?”

He unwrapped that last moment like a treasured gift: her tall, hour-glass figure; those bobbing spheres of succor and eroticism; the halo of a hundred shades of red; the impish echo of the same that garnished her genitals; those long, shapely legs, dotted by the freckles of youth. His brain saw clearly what his eyes could not.

“Terrific, Brad!” she was excited. “Your brain pattern indicates you can understand me.”

So began his reawakening. It seemed only moments ago that she had kissed him to sleep. As she explained, for now, he could only communicate by thinking things that Sooz could track on the instruments.

“Your senses will return gradually. I know you love and trust me, and that is essential. Stress or going too fast could send you into shock.” Her voice changed to her most soothing. “I see just mentioning that risk caused a reaction. We don’t want that, so please try to put any concerns out of your mind. I am taking care of you. Whenever you feel stress, remember our honeymoon.”

Both considered that to be the happiest moment of their lives. They shared many great times in subsequent years, but that fresh beginning of infinite possibilities could not be surpassed.

“For now, forget everything else. No questions, no worries. There will be all the time in the world when you are fully recovered.” Her hand gently stroked his cheek. “My love, I can hardly wait for us to hold each other again.” She rejoiced that the meters showed his agreement.

Per Sooz’s directions, he hadn’t given thought to exactly where, when, or how he was. He knew he wasn’t floating in space. Tubes connected to essential places. His body didn’t rest on a normal bed but nestled in a form-fitting cradle, with supports for his extremities molded to their shape. She could move him into different positions, presumably with some motorized adjustment.

He had slept and dreamed, he didn’t know how many times or for how long, gradually feeling back inside his body.

“Husband,” she said, waking him at one point. She often reserved that title for sexual things. Her use of it triggered pleasant expectations. “I want to show you that I kept my promise.”

She tilted the cradle almost forty-five degrees, but he still felt securely embedded in its concavities. Lifting his far arm, she placed his open hand against her naked breast. He was too weak to grasp, so she pressed his fingers into her softness. Replacing his arm, she leaned to put her nipple between his lips, his natal response rewarding them both.

Taking his lower hand, she placed it between her legs. His fingers wiggled slightly as he sensed her fluffy thicket. She pressed them deeper, letting him feel her intimate warmth.

Sooz had grown used to seeing Brad’s naked body as she cared for him. The jet black hair that decorated most of his body was thick on his head and stubbly—she maintained it the way he liked it—on his face. His mahogany eyes, open and unseeing for now, made him look lost in thought. His bronze skin tone had faded but still gave his tall, muscular frame an imposing presence.

His basso profundo completed the image of masculinity that was often cited as the reason for his success. Sooz knew it was his brain and heart that shared his riches and successes with those who helped achieve them and reinvested to do more. The popular press contrasted its villainous timbre with his enlightened business practices and charitable investments. Despite all she had done continuing their work without him, she longed to share it with him again.

Her purpose that day had been therapeutic, simply to expand his sense of touch as his brain recovered. The hint of humor and eroticism was to keep their spirits afloat. But when she considered how and where else to touch, she couldn’t miss it standing straight up.

Using the controls, she moved his legs apart and stood between them. When she took him in her hand, she didn’t need the instruments to know he felt it.

Brad had almost forgotten he had a penis. Without realizing what it was, the vague sensation of the catheter was all he had occasionally noticed until Sooz grasped it. After a minute of pleasant massage, he was jolted by the weird sensation of her removing the tube. After that, things got much more pleasant.

“I hope you don’t mind a blowjob,” she teased. “It may not work and I’m out of practice, but it could be fun.”

She was glad to see him grow to full hardness as she played with his cock. Providing some lubricant with her tongue, she pumped him as she checked the monitors and watched his movements.

“It’s fine if you squirm, but don’t wear yourself out,” she cautioned. “You may not be able to ejaculate yet, so we won’t try too hard—today!”

In her mouth, by its size, shape, texture, and warmth, his organ brought back a flood of memories, so distant yet so precious. Was this a step to his full awakening or just her satisfying her heartfelt need to reconnect with the love of her life?

A small part of his body and a dim corner of his mind began to feel alive. Wanting to writhe and respond, his legs merely twitched. He tried to laugh out loud—but couldn’t—when he recognized the particular way she used her tongue on his cockhead. Momentary frustration reminded him to think of their honeymoon; he mentally giggled, recalling that that was the first time he experienced that delightful technique.

Both were surprised by his climax. It arrived with a warning beep of the monitors, which in this case was a celebration. He had felt no build-up, no anticipation, no edge. A sudden flash of ecstasy just overwhelmed him. His spurting was brief and sporadic and he wasn’t sure if anything was produced.

Moments after he heard the alarm and experienced the pleasure he heard a deep cry. It was his own voice.

“Wonderful, my love!” Sooz exclaimed, hearing the first sound he had produced. “You’re doing great!” She so much wanted to climb atop him, to hold him, but she didn’t think he could safely support her weight. Instead, she leaned over him, resting her boobs on his belly, laying her head against him.

He felt her warm softness, her smooth cheek, the tickle of her hair. His neck could almost lift his head as his eyes strained to look down. Was that a red glow through the grey fog that veiled his eyes?

Over the next week, halting speech, limited movement, and vague vision began to emerge. One day, Sooz was startled as she walked towards him.

Brad raised his arm and pointed a finger right at her, saying clearly, “Naked!” Determined to keep her promise, she had gotten into the habit. “Nipples,” he cried. “Bush!” Against her pale skin, they would certainly be noticeable; his sight was starting to work well enough to make them out.

As his speech, strength, and vision continued to improve, so did the danger, Sooz reminded him. He would want to know a million things and that was too many to learn that fast. He was frozen for a long time, longer than they expected. He missed some difficult times, but things were better now. When he could handle it, she would tell and show and experience with him everything.

Sooz didn’t warn him of the milestone she thought they had reached, in case he wasn’t quite ready yet. She removed the last of his tubes and adjusted him into a sitting position.

“Ready to try a real bed?” she asked, offering her arm. He had done some walking but had slept in that mechanical cradle because it was easier for her to care for him. Settling onto the nearby bed where she slept, he felt at home, especially when she crawled in beside him.

Sooz spooned him, sighing loudly at finally feeling his body against hers again. He moaned softly, absorbing the warmth that he hadn’t dared to miss. After long minutes, Brad stirred, trying to roll towards her. She moved to help him. They kissed and shared breath, legs intertwined, endearments murmured and echoed.

At one point, Sooz’s roaming hand landed on the erection that had been poking her hip for a while. “Would you like me to suck you?” she offered. She had given him several orgasms since that first time.

“I feel guilty enough,” he whined. “I wish I could return the favor.”

“I don’t want you to think I dragged you here to do that,” she laughed, “but if you’re up to it, I’m happy to help you try!”

Pulling him toward the foot of the bed, she made room. Half on her side, she gave him her right inner thigh as a pillow and opened herself to him. Brad started tentatively, but the taste and scent invigorated him. So did Sooz’s moans of approval.

It had been so long, the expected intensity had diminished in her memory, outnumbered by the self-stimulation that she thought approximated it. Augmented by the hope that he would completely recover and this would resume as part of her life, she rushed toward a peak.

“Oh, Brad, suck it! I’m ready!” she gasped. He knew well what she liked, so he applied his lips to her clit. Too late, she tried to stop her thigh from closing on his head as the orgasm seized her. When she regained control and gave him room to breathe, he seemed unfazed by it, gently cradling her throbbing nub in his mouth as the ecstasy echoed through her.

“I wonder where I record that you’ve achieved that functionality!” she sang, satisfied not to move as he gently licked her folds.

Brad looked up, but couldn’t see her face without losing contact so he waited. He reached to stroke her torso, perhaps less tight and smooth than it had been. His finger traced the scar from when she lost her spleen in that skiing accident. She could have had it erased, but she kept it as a badge of accomplishment.

She looked older, but not old. As she had come into focus, his eyes observed the crow’s feet and boob droop and guessed twenty years. His mind saw no difference.

Recalling how he enjoyed nuzzling her pussy, Sooz spent a few minutes floating in euphoria before she repositioned herself next to him.

“I want you inside me,” she cooed. “How about if I ride you?”

Brad’s eyes lit up. It was always his favorite position, despite sometimes feeling shiftless for making her do all the work. A brief visit by her mouth assured her that his cock was ready.

Framed by the ruby cascade of her hair, her face beamed as she settled fully onto him, leaning her heavy breasts onto his upraised hands. As they joined, each deemed the other’s flesh to be the hotter. Reluctant to relinquish the maximum penetration, Sooz rose slowly and returned quickly, in no hurry to lift again.

Brad shared the preference, thrusting upward to regain the embrace, enjoying her weight on him.

“Is this working for you?” she asked, picking up speed. “Me, too!” she replied to his enthusiastic acknowledgment. His stamina was suspect in multiple ways, so he was glad she was in control. Each time she landed, she wriggled, banking his coals while stoking hers.

Judging they had reached parity, she leaned forward onto her arms, riding for the home stretch. “Cum in me, Brad,” her breathing was ragged. “Cum with me!”

The last was more of a groan, and within seconds, Brad was complying. “Oh, Sooz!” he purred. “You give me so much!” The two ground together as the rapture took them.

They slept together that night as husband and wife for the first time in months—and much longer.

“I think it is time for you to see where we are.” Sooz was congratulating him on the progress he had made in physical therapy. “I’m going to take you out to dinner,” she grinned.

Assuming it had to do with his recovery, everything he had eaten since the tubes had been removed seemed artificial. Colorful shapes had different tastes, smells, and textures: some familiar, some odd, some bland, some intense.

“We’ll have to get dressed, of course,” she giggled. He hadn’t worn any clothes yet, and she had been naked except for the few occasions when she left the apartment.

“Never mind, then!” he joked. She showed him the simple but brightly colored shirt and pants she had for him. Of course, he was ravenous to know what was outside the rooms that were all he knew since he awoke.

“You’ll have a lot of questions. You’re stronger now but, still, you don’t want to get overwhelmed. Enjoy the experience and trust me,” she mothered, standing on her toes to kiss him on his forehead. “Over time, you’ll learn everything.”

The hallway outside their door seemed like any apartment high-rise. They took an elevator to the top floor and emerged into a view restaurant. Floor-to-ceiling glass around the periphery offered an unfamiliar landscape. A handful of tall buildings—he guessed the one they were in looked similar—were separated by wooded areas, meadows and lakes. There were no signs of roads or traffic or other urban development.

People—the first he had seen since waking—sat in groups of two to six at tables by the windows. He couldn’t resist gawking at them, and they returned the interest. He noticed a wide variety of fashion. Who could say who was out of style?

As the sun set behind distant hills, he and Sooz enjoyed a magnificent meal. Although none of it seemed to be the meat, vegetables, or grains he was used to, by color, shape, and texture, some were reminiscent of them. Flavors and aromas were as vivid as he remembered; some of the most interesting were unfamiliar.

“All mass food is synthesized,” Sooz explained when he asked about the shapes. “Old agriculture was too wasteful and harmful to the environment.  We have advanced in more than technology. It’s a new world, a new society, a new economy. I’m looking forward to showing it all to you.”

She reached across to hold his hand. “Everyone can live a good life. Our companies, our research, our investments helped make all this happen.” She emphasized the “our” but he had slept through most of it.

The first thing Brad had to revise was his guess of how long he had been frozen, despite how Sooz appeared. Having this meal and seeing this one place posed so many unknowns about how things were, how they got this way, and how long it took. It had been over a minute since he said or ate anything; all he could do was look around the room or out the window.

“We can go,” Sooz suggested, squeezing the hand she still held, recognizing his pending distress.

Back in the apartment, they embraced. Sitting together on the couch, Brad looked like he was going to explode with questions.

“How old are you?” he finally blurted out; his mind chose the topic he cared about the most.

“Let me help you understand,” she began. “We have technology to replace organs. My first replacement was my liver, which was twenty years after we froze you. Our technology saved my life.”

And mine, Brad thought. No one but Sooz would have revived him.

“Over time, more parts could be replaced and they lasted longer. Later, it became possible to look however I wanted, I chose to appear that age.”

She took his hand between her two. “A replacement merges with the body. Is one hand me and the other a replacement?” she asked.

“They are both you,” he said, raising his hand sandwich and kissed her two.

“The brain, of course, was the hardest. It developed in stages as each part was better understood.” She continued slowly, watching his eyes as he absorbed the information. “The person, the personality, the memories, the psyche, becomes amalgamated with the replacement components. It is a difficult process, but there is no more dementia, no mental constraint on a lifespan.”

Sooz wished he was still connected to the equipment so she could better monitor his reactions. She would have to rely on her human senses.

“Brad… my husband… my love…,” she took a breath, her hands tight on his. “I am what we call an amalgam. Over the years, every part of me has been replaced.”

Brad shook his head, trying to unhear her words. He didn’t understand. Rather, he understood but his mind rejected it. He would always regret that he yanked his hand away from her.

“Who… what are you?” he cried, standing up. He paced around, trying to digest and reconcile what he knew, what she had kept from him, what he had seen but ignored, what his mind extrapolated. His babbled rants were fragments of thoughts and questions that could not be contained. With the chaos in his mind, he rounded on her, prepared to say or do something extreme.

He froze—stunned—when he saw her tear-streamed face, more of empathy than of anguish. Was it a coincidence or a trick of the mind? Her forest green blouse and burgundy skirt made him feel like he had fallen through a time-warp back to the day he told her of his idea to freeze himself. She had worn similar clothes and that same expression.

“I am Sooz, your wife, the love of your life,” she brought him back to now. “You can count my age from my birth, from the day we married, from the day we froze you, from the day that the first or the last part of me was replaced. I will count it from the day you came back to me.”

There were so many things Brad didn’t know or couldn’t understand. There was one he did. He ran to her, falling to his knees, laying his head in her lap, murmuring his love and apologies as she stroked his hair and did the same.

They slept entwined. In the morning, Brad felt ashamed and self-chastised, despite Sooz’s forgiveness and understanding. He knew he had hurt her in a way that she had not anticipated.

“Let’s go outside,” Sooz suggested as they finished breakfast. The elevator took them down to a lobby that opened onto paths that wandered into the nearby woods.

“We won’t go far,” she said. “You’ll need to rebuild your endurance.”

Brad inhaled the fresh air, enjoying the smells of life and the sounds of insects and the wind through the leaves. Sooz strolled slowly, seemingly randomly, finally stopping where the path circled around a giant trunk. Compared to nearby trees, it was huge. The top was lost in the canopy.

By a small plaque, she put her arm around his waist and Brad put his arm around her shoulder. He looked down. The numbers made no sense, but he staggered, with Sooz holding him up. It had his name, in memoriam.

“I planted this to remember you when I thought I would never be able to bring you back,” she said. “There could be no cure for Queen’s Dance. The broken DNA was too entangled with what makes your personality. The only way to cure you was to change you into someone else.”

Brad’s mind jumped into overdrive again. “You mean, I still have it? All this was for nothing?”

“No, no, no, my love. I would never have awakened you unless we could be together,” she soothed, turning into him with a hug. Taking a bracing breath, she said, “As this tree grew, technology advanced and I finally found a way to do it. You are also an amalgam.”

The room was as he remembered it. In his mind, it was only months ago; in hers, centuries. She had been back many times; this would be the last.

On one level, Brad had accepted the truth—he was also an amalgam. But there was part of him that rejected the notion. This trip would settle it.

“Most people become amalgams gradually as parts fail,” Sooz had explained. “To do it from your frozen body, I hired the top experts and facilities. The first two times, your brain just shut down; it was too much. This time, I learned how and did it all myself.”

He could only imagine what it had been like for Sooz. When she planted that tree, she could have let this place burn up reentering the atmosphere.

“Now it’s up to you. If you cannot accept being an amalgam, you can end this life and hope that there will be another way someday. But it will be without me,” she choked on the last words.

His eyes went from her anguished face to the sarcophagus. He saw exactly what he expected, but it still made him feel like he was falling more than any weightlessness in that orbital mausoleum. His own body, his real body, lay in repose—as it had for all those years.

His amalgamated mind pitied the guy in the sarcophagus. Yet, frozen, his fate was simpler. Hovering in front of himself like an out-of-body experience, Brad could not decide who was the doppelganger. Somehow, he needed to occupy it, or it, him.

On an impulse, he began to unbutton his shirt. Removing it, he looked at his arms and chest and compared them to what he could see of his original. He quickly sent the rest of his clothes flying, inspecting his hands, arms, legs, and feet.

“Who… what am I?” he reprised his earlier question. He looked at Sooz. Her hair had blossomed into that unforgettable halo.

Never looking away from him, she stripped off her clothes. Floating just out of reach, she held her arms out at her sides, palms up.

Ironically, Brad realized it was easier to disavow himself than her. And so he could do neither.

Reaching toward her led her to do the same. Their hands just touching, they pulled themselves together, laughing at the enthusiasm of the collision. He kissed the pooling tears from her eyes.

“I love you, Sooz,” his vision also blurred. “If I live for a thousand years, I don’t know how I will be able to show you how much!”

They drifted, spinning slowly, saying little things that meant nothing and everything, neither wanting to let go of the other.

In that embrace, Brad reached down with his left hand to lift her right thigh. Pulling against it rotated him away from her chest as he hugged her leg with his arm. Rudely, he raised his right leg and swung it in front of her face.

Surprise turned to recognition as she grabbed it. It was only a crude approximation, but with their emotional states, it would take a bit to prepare themselves to attempt Sooz’s Two-Piece Burr position—this time, to completion.