The year was 2079, and the three astronauts were on the first space mission to the outer solar system. The planned landing on Europa, one of Jupiter’s moons, was an ambitious undertaking. Angela reflected on all the years of training and the eighteen months in space on the way to Jupiter that had already passed. With six months to go, she was anxious to get to their destination and make the landing.

But she was also really starting to enjoy the journey, more and more every week. NASA, geeky and nerdy as it had been for over a hundred years, never really addressed the issue that had overwhelmed the three crewmen during their many months of flight. Or, Angela smiled as she thought, two crewmen and one crewwoman. The scientists had planned so well for the problems of food supply, crew comfort, communications, isolation, claustrophobia, etc. All those damn psychological tests they conducted, just to make sure the crew wouldn’t go crazy from missing Earth or getting on each other’s nerves or the strangeness of prolonged space travel.

But they had weathered all these difficulties with flying colors. What NASA, in all its white-lab-coat nerdiness, had not accounted for was that these three astronauts were overachievers, driving hard at whatever obstacles came their way. Whatever problems occurred, they solved them; nothing could beat them. And this included more than just the natural drives that made them hungry or thirsty. There were other biological drives, even more urgent and just as necessary.

What they discovered, after six months in space, was that not a single one of them had ever in their adult lives been as long as a month between sexual encounters. Not once. Before the flight, everyone had assumed they would just tough it out in space. What they discovered was that this was a drive much too overwhelming in each of them to be ignored. It was a subject that never came up in training, but after six months in space, it was obvious to all three of them that it was a problem. They all knew the others were sneaking off into the cargo bay for “private time," and it was no secret that Angela had discovered sticky blobs that had inadvertently attached themselves to a porthole or a shipping container.

She remembered laughing as she realized that she missed the fragrance and the taste. Something had to be done. After a few months of sneaking around, pretending that nobody knew about these private masturbations, Angela at last forced the issue out into the open. After all, it was just another biological function, a necessary one. They talked it over, trying to be professional about it while still acknowledging that this was almost as exciting as the prospect of arriving in Jupiter space in six months.

They all agreed that sneaking away from the others at odd hours was no way to run a space mission. No matter what they did, it had to be efficient, organized, and meticulously carried out. Just like everything else in the space program, it had to be part of the mission plan. So, from now on, they all looked forward to Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. More often would have been nice, but the mission plan was crowded as it was. They all agreed to fake the logbooks and give up a couple of hours of sleep time three days a week. Angela mused on all this as she and Lieutenant Powell floated, naked and weightless, in the cargo bay.
The sight of a naked body was just as exciting to both of them in weightless conditions as it had ever been on Earth—Lt. Powell's rock-hard cock, throbbing in her hands as she gripped and stroked it, and Angela's full breasts with stiff, perky nipples, begging to be sucked.

They had discovered that if they got locked together in a tight 69 position, the up-and-down bobbing of Angela’s head as she deepthroated his cock exactly counteracted the frantic thrusting of his fingers into her dripping pussy as he licked and sucked eagerly at her swollen clit. It kept them from bouncing off the walls as they kept going hard and fast until each of them had cum hard. The feeling of floating in circles, weightless and in an orgasmic rush, was certainly a first for NASA.

Angela Martin, space whore, she thought to herself, licking and swallowing the last gobs of Lt. Powell’s sperm as he slipped on his coveralls and floated back to the bridge. Flipping on the intercom, she called up to Commander Jansen:

“Next! And don’t forget to bring the bungee cords!”

They were still working on the many problems involved with zero-gravity fucking. It was a great research project and needed a LOT more experimentation! She thought of that old TV show and couldn’t quite remember the catchphrase. It was something like “To boldly go where no man has cum before.”

She laughed and waited for the commander, rubbing her clit, keeping her pussy wet. She loved the 69 and the way it made her so wet and ready; now what she needed was a good hard fuck. Today they were going to try strapping Angela to the bulkhead and let her grab Commander Jansen by the waist and use him like a fuck toy.

Her heart raced as the commander strapped her in; she had never been into bondage, but she loved the look in his eye as he slowly unzipped and pulled out his cock and floated toward her, strapped in and unable to move anything but her arms. She grabbed his cock and smiled at the thought of her throbbing pussy, about to be stretched and pleasured.

As she pulled him toward her and enjoyed the thought of masturbating herself with a hot living cock, she asked him why he had insisted on strapping her down in exactly this particular spot.

"Well," he said, "I guess you didn't notice the handholds I attached to the wall by your shoulders. Or the footholds I added to that bulkhead behind me. I know we talked about letting you use me as a weightless toy, but I had other ideas!"

Angela let out a muffled cry as the commander grabbed the handholds and footholds and plunged his thick cock hard into her eager, dripping pussy. His muscular body writhing and grinding hard against her, she arched her back and thrust her tits to meet his hungry mouth, her body straining against the bungee cords that held her in place.

The experiment was a spectacular success. Angela squirmed and contorted and strained her body, forcing herself into the restraints, eager to meet the commander's deep thrusts. His feet firmly planted and keeping a strong grip on the handholds, and with no gravity to hold him back, he could pour every ounce of passion into fucking her hard and fast and deep.

The sensations were incredible; it was unlike any hot fuck they had experienced on Earth. Angela's pussy was on fire, already gushing thick hot cream from her earlier orgasm. Commander Jansen marveled at the way her pussy seemed to grab his engorged shaft and pull him in deeper.

"Fuck me, goddammit!" Angela growled breathlessly, using language neither of them had heard since they had gone into space. "Fuck that pussy--give it to--give it to me HARDER! FUCK ME GOOD!"

"Take it!" the commander responded. "Take that fucking cock—come on, take it—cum all over that cock! Let me feel you CUM!!"

"FUCKING HELL YES!" Angela cried out, her restraints digging into her skin as she forced herself hard against the commander's final deep thrusts. They cried out in passionate ecstasy as his thick load of cum exploded into Angela's spasming pussy, her body milking his shaft as waves of orgasmic pleasure overwhelmed her.

Hearts pounding as the insane pleasure engulfed them, they both marveled at the feel of heat and sweat and the hot mingling of their bodies. She massaged his strong shoulders as he kissed and sucked at her soft breasts, neither of them in any hurry for this incredible moment to end.

They both laughed as Powell's voice came in over the intercom, reminding them that their 30 minutes were about up.

"You know he turns on the intercom and jacks off again, listening to us while we're fucking. You know that, don't you?" Angela asked, laughing as the commander sucked and licked at her nipples while unfastening her restraints.

"It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you," he replied, moaning as she took the time to suck his cock clean before he got dressed again.

"But if he fucked up and left the transmitter open, we're going to get a REALLY interesting message from Houston in about a half hour!"

The commander floated across the cargo bay, keeping an eye on Angela as she very slowly wiggled her naked body back into her jumpsuit. Angela had always been a couple of steps ahead of her male crewmates throughout this "experiment," and she had already spotted telltale signs that jealousies could develop between the men.

But she had already worked out the solution, and she knew that on Saturday they'd all be enjoying another first for NASA—a deep space threesome that none of them would ever forget!