Michael looked okay just then. He had done his gravity training exercise an hour ago, just before his craft had been ensnared by the sun. It was a deadly trajectory. Mission control was trying out something to establish a line to his craft using an older spaceship. They had deployed the older ship a year ago for perihelial missions, and it was specially equipped to deal with a gravitational force that was as strong as Mike’s craft was experiencing just then.

He wouldn't experience anything for the next half hour, and then his descent into the sun would accelerate. At some point he would pass out, as the temperatures rose, and his lungs and brain just couldn’t handle the temperature. He would probably die from oxygen loss before his skin burst into flame and his face melted.

For the next half hour though, he was there. His face was on the iPad 2 screen, and he was looking at her. Katie tried not to cry, sitting in a clubhouse in Houston. He was her ex husband, and she was so over him. But nobody should have to experience what he was going to.

“Whatcha thinking K-girl?” he said, sounding very cheerful.

“Mike, I don’t know what to do!” she said, feeling utterly helpless.

“I’ll be dead soon, girlie, and that makes a man very cheerful, not a care in the world!”

“Don’t say that, Mike!”

“I have a last wish! Wanna hear it?”

“What’s your last wish, Mike?”

“Don’t you laugh at me girlie,” he said, injecting mock sternness into his voice. “I want to jack off in front of your prim and proper tea party ladies club!”

Katie pondered the thought.

“Mike, do you really mean that?” she asked.

If she could bring him any small solace, that would ease how she felt.

“I really do, K-girl, but don’t get your panties in a wad over making this happen,” he said, “it’ll cost you your membership I am sure!”

“You don’t worry about that Mike,” she said. “I am in the tea party clubhouse already, All I have to do is to step into the hall, and you’ll have an audience. Are you really sure you want to spend your last half hour jacking off?”

“Katie, babe, if I had access to that pretty cunt of yours, I’d fuck you, but I don’t,” he said, sounding slightly wistful and very horny.

She giggled.

“Remember our beach threesome in Sweden?” she said.

“Ooh yeah, now that’s what I’m talking about babe,” he said, “I think the whole beach heard us fuck!”

“That they did, now let’s see about your audience,” she said, walking into the hall of the country club.

She flipped the camera on the iPad so he could see his audience. The place had forty women, ranging in age from twenty five to seventy five, soaking in a documentary about Margaret Meade.

“I should probably warn them before you get started,” she said.

“You’re doing no such thing,” Mike said. “I want to see the shocked looks on their stuffy faces, K. I think ones with the most conservative sticks up their assholes are likely to be the most turned on. Just my theory.”

Katie laughed. She was still standing at a distance from the buzzing crowd of women.

“K-girl, I’m whipping my cock out,” he said, doing as he promised. “Oh, make sure the volume on your iPad is set at maximum. Actually wait, mission control can help. One minute.”

He said something into another camera, and received a very static tempered response. Then he turned back to Katie and winked at her.

“Guess who is going to be interrupting their regularly scheduled program?” he said.

Katie looked at him horrified.

“You’re going to be up there on the big TV screen,” she said, wondering how soon the members would throw her out of the club. She was the only member with an astronaut ex-husband.

“K-girl, it’s my last wish, but if you don’t want it…” he said.

“Fuck the prim and proper club, Mike,” she said, feeling suddenly rebellious. “I want to see the look on Mrs. Hudson’s face when she sees this!”

“That you will,” he said, “which one is she?”

“The rail thin blonde in the green dress, on the right,” she said, moving her iPad screen the right way.

“MILF! Serious MILF alert,” Mike said. “Give me some other names, woman. I want to yell out their names.”

“The voluptuous brunette next to her is Mrs.Wallace. Nadja Wallace. Her husband is supposed to have ‘brought her over’ from Ukraine.”

“Like mail order? Wow! Look at her tits! They know how to make tits in Ukraine.”

“Behave Mike!”

“It’s my last time to be class clown, K-girl! Although you saying behave turns me on plenty!”

“Ha ha; anyway, the woman in the black shirt and jeans is Mrs. Nakamura.”

“Katie girl, she is perfection.

Japanese perfection. I am picturing her splattered in cum.”

“Mike!”

“I think that’s enough. It’s time K-girl. Hold onto your panties!”

She laughed.

“Make it noisy Mike!”

All forty women let out a collective gasp the next moment. Katie had somehow melted into them, and sat in the last row. Mike was on the giant TV screen. He had stripped to his boxers, and was leering at the camera.

“Ladies of the afternoon tea party,” he said, “I apologize for interrupting your regularly scheduled scintillating program on wicker baskets.”

Katie chuckled. He was getting them riled up.

“My name is Michael Henry Lettersworth, and I am an astronaut,” he said. “Since I can, I am going to pump my cock for your benefit ladies. It is so, so scandalous, and you can clench your sphincters about it later. But right now, say hello to my handsome cock. I call him the Lettersworth comet ladies. Don’t you agree? Wouldn’t you like to see the comet become a shooting star? Yes, you can applaud ladies, that was a good one right?”

Katie groaned. The jokes hadn’t improved. The entire congregation of forty women was angry, disapproving, and in consternation. She knew that Mike hadn't mentioned his impending demise on purpose. There ain’t no turn on in a pity party.

“Hey Blondie,” Mike said, rubbing his cock, and showing it off to the camera so the ladies could view a closeup, “I mean you, Mrs. Hudson!”

Mrs. Hudson looked as if someone had pointed a gun at her forehead.

“Remember when you sucked my cock in the elevator,” Mike said, sounding in equal parts gleeful and horny.

He kept pumping his cock, while Mrs. Hudson shook her head, and denied the allegation to her neighbors, as loudly as her modesty would permit.

“Don’t worry; she didn’t suck my cock ladies,” Mike continued cheerfully, “but I wanted to see the look on her lovely face when I said that. Well Mrs. H - you can suck my cock right now if you want. Just lower your head onto this pink head right here.”

He indicated the head of his cock, and pumped it a few more times.

“And you, Ms. Ukraine,” he said.

Mrs. Wallace looked like Mrs. Walloped just then.

“I’ll bet you have a sexy accent, Nadja,” he said, pumping his cock vigorously, while eying her great tits.

Mrs. Wallace said something angrily, about disconnecting the TV.

“I’d like you to bite my balls with your lips, you minx you,” he said, still addressing Mrs. Wallace. “And please be more proud of those tits. Mm... mm titties. Ukrainian titties. Great big tits.”

He vibrated his lips as if he were rubbing his head between Mrs. Wallace’s tits.

“Oh, it’s time for my Asian fantasy, bitches,” he said. “You want my thick, creamy goo on your face, Mrs. Nakamura?”

The Japanese lady looked only mildly horrified. She was perversely fascinated that an astronaut was jacking off in front of the ladies’ tea party club.

What was odd was that not one member of the forty had gotten up to turn the TV off, and not one had left. They were all muttering invectives under their respective breaths, and shaking their heads, but somehow they found an excuse to look at the TV screen. Katie marveled at this.

Mike increased the pace of his masturbation, talking to Mrs. Hudson now, and Mrs. Wallace then, and Mrs. Nakamura then again. He pointed out one or another lady in the crowd, and mentioned what he’d like them to do to his cock. A few minutes later he reached his climax.

“All right, tea party bitches,” he yelled, as his cock exploded. “I’m cumming on your lovely faces!”

His cock exploded on the screen, as he yelled out Nadja, Katie, Mrs.Hudson, Japanese slut, and so on. The multiple spurts of semen floated a few feet from him, forming into spherical droplets that shattered into many more spherical droplets when they hit a surface or a wall.

“I love y’all tea party bitches, Mmmwah!” Mike kissed the camera.

They all heard a solid wall of static from a screen next to him.

“Hold on ladies,” Mike said.

He spoke into the screen. Mission control had news for him. His face looked perplexed, as though he had heard something important. He suddenly turned off the cam that was showing on their TV screen, as the tea party ladies murmurs and protests grew much louder.

It turned out that mission control had secured his craft, and prevented its descent into the sun. Michael H. Lettersworth landed on earth a week later. The tea party ladies’ club did not press any charges against him, but he avoided all unnecessary trips to the city of Houston after the incident. On one particularly karmic occasion, he found himself seated to Mrs. Nakamura on an airplane. She changed her seat before he could.

Note to the reader: This is a humorous little piece about an astronaut who wants an audience while he jacks off. No disrespect intended to anyone. The tea party ladies club mentioned here means just that - a congregation of ladies who party while having tea. It has nothing whatsoever to do with US politics. Just a quick word to the wise.