March 2, 2030
Mark and Susan floated, weightless, looking out the window at the departing space capsule. The circular form shrank into the distance, brief puffs of gas visible from attitude control thrusters.
“The very last Drake,” Mark commented into the silence. The International Space Station was eerily quiet now that it was just the two of them aboard. In the past, it had been bustling with astronauts, cosmonauts, mission control over the intercom, science experiments going awry (or working, sometimes). Now, all Mark heard was the faint hum of life support.
“At least, until the one that pushes this bucket of bolts into the Pacific,” Susan replied. The station was due to be retired in a matter of months. They had a ride home of course, already docked at the station. Not a Drake, much to Mark’s disappointment, but NASA insisted the Starhauler was safe now.
Susan turned to Mark, a faint smile on her face. “Listen, Mark, I’ve been thinking. There have been a lot of ‘firsts’ on this space station – first joint space mission with Russia, first judo match in space, first wedding in space...”
“Yeah, so?”
“What if we had the first sex in space?”
Mark laughed out loud. He had to admit, Susan was very attractive despite her baggy flight suit. She had been a star volleyball player in college, then a fighter pilot before joining the astronaut corps. She had a lean, athletic physique, curly brown hair, and her fair skin was dotted with freckles. Just the kind of woman he would be attracted to – on Earth, that is.
“Don’t forget, I’m technically still your boss for the next two weeks. Plus, I can’t believe nobody’s had sex in space yet.”
“Yes, captain!” Susan replied mockingly. “NASA insists that it hasn’t happened. And it would be hard for anyone to get away with it, considering the monitoring cameras all over the station for the last 30 years.”
“Cameras that we just packed into that spacecraft,” Mark replied thoughtfully, gesturing at the departing vehicle. Part of their mission in the last few weeks of operations was to dismantle any nonessential hardware that could be sent back to Earth. Not that it was useful down there, but various bureaucrats wanted a piece of the historic space station on their desks. “I don’t know. I need to think about it. Sounds awesome, of course, but I’m not exactly keen on getting fired either.”
“Mission control will never know. It’ll be our secret. One last ‘first’ for the ISS.” She pushed him playfully, sending him floating into the module wall, and herself the opposite direction. She caught herself on one of the many handholds gracefully. Mark pushed off the wall with both hands, rotating back towards Susan, and caught her around the waist with both arms. Her baggy flight suit contracted, giving him a glimpse of her feminine figure. He could feel her breath, see her beautiful blue eyes as she looked up at him, holding the wall of the station as he held on to her. Damn, it had been too long since he’d felt a woman’s touch.
“Better get back to work, you little rebel. We have a lot of shit to dismantle before we go home.”
--
March 3, 2030
Mark awoke, yawned, and tried to stretch as he did every morning. Like every morning, he couldn’t get a good stretch because the fucking NASA sleeping bags that tie you to the wall were too small. He groggily unzipped the bag and grabbed for some handholds nearby. He grasped one and launched himself towards the Unity module. The ISSpresso machine was there, which was basically the only thing keeping him sane after nearly 6 months in space.
He rounded a corner and saw Susan floating there, right next to his beloved coffee machine. Facing away from him. Completely nude. In his shock, Mark forgot to catch a handhold and his momentum crashed him awkwardly into the module wall. She didn’t seem to notice the sound, and as Mark recovered his orientation he began to watch her.
Susan squeezed soapy water from a plastic pouch onto her arm. The surface tension made it cling to her skin like a translucent caterpillar. Shen then used a sponge to soak it up and begin washing her body. In space, of course, a regular shower was impossible, so this was the only way to bathe. Normally, though, astronauts would do this in a living quarters module with a privacy curtain.
Mark gazed at Susan’s glorious, athletic figure. Her curly hair floated freely behind her. She was lean after months of space rations, but her ass retained a beautiful feminine form. Mark watched her wash it with the sponge slowly. A little too slowly... she must know he was watching. Mark felt a desire for her rise within him, something he had not felt for far too long. He cared less and less for propriety by the second.
“Maybe you should come over here and help me, Mr. Voyeur,” she said without turning.
“Ha. Guilty as charged.” He pushed off the wall and floated towards her. “How can I help?”
She twisted and handed him the sponge, still floating. Her eyes sparkled. “Start with my back.”
He took the sponge and maneuvered behind her. Washing yourself was awkward enough in space; washing someone else was a totally new experience. She reached behind herself with both hands and gripped his flight suit, stabilizing their bodies as he started to wash. Her ass was pressed tightly against his crotch, and he felt his cock begin to stiffen. Oh, how he wanted to feel those cheeks against his bare skin.
Susan moaned. “That feels so good. My back hasn’t been washed properly in forever.” Mark finished her back and reached around her to wash her front, working her way up to her breasts. She arched her back, clearly enjoying the attention to her breasts. He felt her cheek brush against his, and her hands reach around his neck. Her body started to float away from him at this, so he moved his hands lower. He released the sponge and it began to float away, alongside a spherical drop of soapy water. His still-soapy fingers found her labia and traced their length a few times. He could feel her dripping with arousal.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” The professional astronaut was gone from his voice, replaced by something deeper, more dangerous.
“I want you to fuck me, Mark. I’ve wanted to do this since the first day we started training together.”
He plunged his middle finger into her and began stroking her inside. She moaned as her arousal built. Then she reached around herself to grab his flight suit, twisted herself around so she was facing him, and reached for his zipper. Soon he was naked too, and she hungrily grabbed his balls to pull her face towards his cock.
Mark watched Susan’s hair float, weightless, bobbing like some kind of deep sea anemone as her mouth moved up and down his shaft. She gripped his butt with both hands to hold her in place. They bumped into the wall and he gently pushed off to send them back towards the center of the module.
Susan sucked hungrily, urgently, as if she had been starved for the one thing that sustained her these past six months. Perhaps she was a secret nymphomaniac, Mark mused. In her excitement, she kicked an instrument panel. “Mission control to station – we didn’t catch that, could you repeat?” came over the intercom.
Oh shit, that was the radio she just kicked! Susan looked up at him and smiled, but didn’t release his cock. Mark pushed off the opposite wall with his foot to send the two of them back towards the radio. Susan swirled his tip with her tongue a few times, then tried to take his whole cock down her throat. Damn that felt good. Mark held down the radio comm button. “Never mind, never mind, everything nominal here.”
“Copy. Is dismantle work on schedule?” Susan released his dick and began climbing up his body.
“Yes, yep, everything going according to plan, on schedule,” Mark called into the radio. He released the wall and they were floating through the module again. He wrapped one arm around her waist and positioned his cock at her pussy lips. He could feel her hot breath as her lips brushed his cheek.
“Copy. Let us know if anything changes.” Mark didn’t bother to respond. He plunged his dick into her, slowly at first. Intense need rose within him, and he began to fuck with urgency, with abandon. The blinking lights and science equipment faded into the background. Only Susan’s perfect skin, her moans, her beautiful blue eyes, and her luscious pussy existed. They clung to each other, the other’s body being the only stability as they drifted through space.
Mark felt his orgasm approaching, so he grasped Susan’s hips and lifted her off him. The first spurt of cum left his dick and floated through the space between them. They both watched it in breathless fascination. Surface tension drew it into a sphere. It spun as it floated, milky, glorious. Susan caught the floating drop of cum by touching it with a finger, then drew it to her lips. She smiled as she swallowed it.
--
June 20, 2050
Kai Meridian eagerly plugged the degraded SD card into the reader. He had recovered the reader from a dusty storage cabinet deep in the hold of the USS Beck. The card itself he had found in a camera at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, part of his expedition to uncover the wreckage of the International Space Station. If this worked, he would be the most prominent researcher in the field of underwater archaeology today. Maybe ever.
The first photos loaded to his screen. Some were corrupted, but most were not. Science experiments, maintenance documentation... Kai caught his breath. He was looking at a selfie of two astronauts, the woman grinning broadly, the man looking a bit sheepish. They floated in space, station lights visible in the background. Both completely naked. He checked the photo metadata – the picture was taken a couple of weeks before the last crew left the station.
The next photo was of the man giving oral pleasure to the woman, taken from her perspective. Dated the next day. The one after that was him fucking her doggy style. The one after that, she had cum all over her face.
Kai whistled. The rumors were right. The last crew of the ISS had spent their last two weeks in space fucking like bunnies! Either NASA had spent the last 20 years lying about this, or they didn’t even know. Kai grinned, dumbfounded. Then he copied the files and sent them to his personal email. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little inspiration later tonight.
