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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Nerds in Space
by Space Cadet (no address provided)
***
Brief and intense affair between two NASA rocket
scientists snowbound for a night. A true story of the
Lunar Landing program. (MF, exh, mast, oral, lac, rom)
***
My name is Leonard Ruben. I'm an old time rocket
scientist. It's not my real name, of course, but if
you are reasonably familiar with the NASA lunar
program, you can probably figure out who I am. Not
that you would want to. The events I will describe
took place half a century ago and most of those
involved are either dead or in nursing homes. But this
little story is actually true. It is one of the
redeeming nuggets of pleasure in my long life.
No matter what you see on TV science shows the Apollo
space program wasn't a carefully planned NASA
enterprise conceived and directed by forward looking
senior scientists and researchers. Rather it was a
knee jerk political response to the Russian success in
putting a satellite in orbit.
Sure, both countries had plans to capitalize on their
ICBM efforts by using rockets to loft scientific
payloads into orbit but the Russians succeeded while
our Vanguard rockets blew up on the launch pad. The
Russians also mapped the back side of the moon and put
a mobile vehicle on the lunar surface while all we
could do was launch a beeping radio transmitter on a
Redstone missile.
So the politicians declared that we would leapfrog the
Russkies and put a man on the moon. The trouble was
that no one had an idea if it could be done. We had
barely put a man in orbit. No senior NASA scientist
wanted to have his reputation ruined if the project
was a failure, although they were all ready to claim
credit if it was a success. So the initial phases of
the space program were left to untried, naive
engineering nerds like us.
Nerds is perhaps too pejorative a term. Most of us
were recent graduates from engineering schools, in our
mid-20's. We were just like any other bunch of horny
guys who wanted desperately to get laid, drink beer on
weekends with our friends, and drive fast cars, the
only difference was that most of us carried slide
rules and wore pocket protectors in our shirts.
I received an electrical engineering degree in 1956
after service in the Korean War. For the next six
years I was a technological migrant worker flitting
from aerospace company to aerospace company as it
gained or lost defense contracts. By a weird throw of
the dice my jobs were always at the cutting edge of
aerospace fantasy. My fingerprints were on the Atlas
missile, the mach-2 Canadian Avro CF105 fighter, the
Polaris missile system, the mach-3 North American B70
bomber and the Dynasoar space glider, the precursor of
the 'Space Shuttle. Fortunately none of these devices
was ever used in combat.
After working all day on methods of killing Cold War
enemies, we chilled out on cold beer and hot girls.
The decade from 1950 to 1960 was a sexual paradise for
young unmarrieds. Birth control pills removed the fear
of unwanted pregnancy, AIDS had yet to emerge as a
sexually transmitted disease, the Haight-Asbury
"Summer of Love" was in full flower, and women were
asserting their rights to enjoy casual sex. More
important, there were plenty of women in the
technological workplace. Hot, nubile girls anxious to
use their college degrees on the job and their bodies
in bed.
I must confess that I took advantage of every
opportunity to sleep with my feminine coworkers. It's
not that they were gorgeous. It's just that they were
willing. A typical evening would start with a few
drinks at a nearby bar. Of course I would drive her
home. The dating ritual mandated that she should
invite me in to have "one for the road." We had a
drink, or two, kissed, and groped each other. Protocol
required that I unsnap her bra and grab a feel of her
breasts. She, in turn, would unzip my pants and fondle
my cock. We removed each other's clothes and tumbled
to bed or the couch, whichever was closer. Sex was
almost an anti-climax. Pleasant but expected. We
clutched each other's bodies.
I penetrated her cunt and sucked her boobies while she
wrapped her legs around me and pulled me close. We
moved in unison, fucking each other as we both rose to
satisfactory climaxes. There was plenty of passion but
little affection in these couplings. If things went
really well, I would stay the night fucking my partner
until we both fell asleep from exhaustion. We might
get together on following nights or choose new
partners. There was little jealousy involved. Free and
open sex was the way of the 50's. It's hard to believe
that we horny nerds were the guys who designed and
engineered the high tech weaponry that was the bulwark
of America's defenses during the Cold War.
By the early 60's it all changed for me. I was 30
years old, almost an old man by the standards of my
peers. My previous five years of aerospace experience
made me something of a veteran rocket scientist. By
then I was working for a division of that research
powerhouse, Bell Labs. We had a contract with NASA for
systems analysis on the entire manned space program.
My primary responsibility was the Gemini space
capsule. I got the job because the designer of the
capsule, a Canadian, asked for me. He had been the
chief aerodynamics engineer of AVRO and we had worked
together on the CF105 fighter.
If you remember, the early NASA lunar space program
used four types of manned capsules. First was the
Mercury. Barely more than a sealed ashcan with a man
inside, it was designed to orbit the Earth just to see
if it could be done. This was the one that launched
John Glenn to fame and was the subject of the movie
"The Right Stuff." The largest and the most well-known
space capsule was the Apollo. It was really a truck,
manned by three astronauts and designed to ferry the
Lunar Excursion Module, the LEM, to the moon and then
return.
The LEM was intended to only be used in space. It had
ne re-entry capability. The Apollo would carry the LEM
to near lunar orbit, detach it from its storage
compartment and lock up with it. The landing crew
would transfer to the LEM, descend to the moon's
surface, walk around and pick up a few rocks and
return to the Apollo. The LEM would be abandoned and
the Apollo would return to Earth. Except no one was
sure that it could be done. No human had ever walked
in space, linked up with another spacecraft, or
changed orbit. All that was tested out on my baby, the
Gemini.
The Gemini was designed after the Apollo. It was the
most sophisticated space capsule of the era. It had
hatches that could open in space and permit an
astronaut to leave and return. It could change
orientation, rendezvous with another space capsule and
even change its orbit. And it had enough life support
capability for two men to survive for several weeks.
It was the craft that proved that all of the things
that were proposed for the Apollo were actually
possible.
The responsibility of making sure that the Gemini was
successful matured me. I supervised a team of 12
senior engineers who, in turn, each supervised their
own groups. My work day was mostly spent in reviewing
and signing off on plans, attending meetings, and
giving presentations to various political dignitaries.
One such meeting was a weeklong session at the west
coast offices of McDonnell Douglas, the primary
contractor of the Gemini. It was to make sure that
everyone was on the same page. Each subcontracting
group sent representatives.
The person in charge of the Life Sciences aspect of
the project was a young woman, Andrea Hendricks,
approximately my own age. Andrea was primary
responsible for the suit that the astronauts would
wear for space walks and the actual lunar landing. She
was short and attractive but appeared a bit heavy set.
She wore loose, unfashionable clothes. In fact she
looked like a female engineer. A nerdette, you might
say. Still, I was impressed by her no nonsense
approach at meetings. She obviously could get things
done. Our coordination session broke up after a week
and we all left for home.
Andrea and I were both going back to the Washington
D.C. area and were booked on the same flight, a TWA
Jetstream. The name "Jetstream" was TWA's effort to
misguide the flying public. It was simply a gussied up
Constellation propeller plane. All the other major
airlines were converting to faster real jets. Still it
was a favorite for business flyers. First Class was
divided up into little four seat compartments. The
stewardesses served free drinks with abandon.
You could recline your seat into a fairly comfortable
couch. A businessman could leave LA, booze and snooze
his way to NYC, and arrive ready for a day's work,
albeit with a considerable hangover. Because we knew
each other on a first name basis, Andrea and I decided
to share the same compartment.
As bad luck would have it the East coast was socked in
by a monumental blizzard. New York, Philadelphia,
Baltimore, and Washington airports were shut down. Our
flight was terminated in Chicago and would continue
the next day. The airline arranged for stranded
passengers to get a room at the O'Hare Hilton, the
Chicago airport hotel. With all eastbound flights
terminating in Chicago the hotel was crowded to
capacity.
Only our initials and last names were on the passenger
manifest so the hotel assumed that Andrea and I were
two businessmen traveling together and allocated only
one room, the last one available. When we arrived to
check in, the desk clerk was truly embarrassed and
told me that he could arrange a cot in one of the
meeting rooms for me for the night. Andrea took the
matter in her own capable hands.
"Don't worry about it." she said to the clerk, "We are
both adults. We can handle the sleeping
accommodations."
Andrea and I were treated to a nice meal in the hotel
restaurant. We had a very pleasant conversation, not
at all about work. Andrea talked freely over dinner.
She was forthright, direct and said exactly what she
meant. I guess it was her engineering approach to
life's problems. Most people would interpret her
directness as a lack of social graces but after a
while I learned to appreciate her no nonsense
approach. In the time that I knew her I never heard
her equivocate about any issue.
I learned that she was a devotee of yoga and liked
classical music. She shared a Georgetown apartment
with two girlfriends. She had no serious boyfriend but
was always on the lookout. Then we adjourned to our
room. Our luggage had been sent on another flight to
Washington but the hotel furnished us with
toothbrushes, toiletries, and terry cloth bathrobes.
We looked forward to an evening of watching TV on the
new color set and then an early bedtime. We sat side
by side on the couch with a hotel provided thermos of
hot coffee, sipping from our cups while we watched the
TV movie. I remember that it was the first James Bond
film, "Dr. No."
Andrea and I flipped a coin to choose which one of the
twin beds we wanted and who would take a shower first.
I lost.
Andrea stepped out of the shower with her terry cloth
robe wrapped around her.
"Len," she said. "We have to talk about our sleeping
arrangements. I'm a bit reluctant to say this but I
always sleep in the nude. I've done it ever since I
was a child. A nightgown always bunches up and the
wrinkles irritate me."
"Don't let it bother you," I replied. "I promise I
won't look."
"I'm not worried about that. I'm sure you've seen a
nude woman before and I'm not embarrassed. It's my
breasts. They may seem a little strange." She paused
for a while as if deciding what to do, then opened her
robe and said, "Here, see what I mean."
Her breasts looked strange indeed. They were huge.
Each one was bigger than a five pound sack of sugar
and about as round. Unsupported, the well-formed
mammaries hung down below her belly button. When she
sat down on the edge of the bed the tips of her
breasts rested against her thighs. It wasn't that the
breasts sagged. They were just very big and heavy.
There was a lot of meat packed inside them. Areolas
the size of small saucers decorated the ends of her
tits. Each was tipped with a very large nipple. In all
other respects Andrea was very well toned. She was a
very attractive normal woman. She had a pleasant,
perky face, intelligent sparkling eyes, a narrow waist
and great legs.
Some men are leg men, some are ass men, and some are
tit men. I confess to being a bit of all three but I'm
basically a leg man. Even in high school I would try
to walk up the stairs behind a particularly attractive
girl so I could sneak a look at her legs. Andrea's
legs were certainly sexy but her breasts, her massive
breasts, were all that I could see. Now I'm of the
"more than one mouthful is a waste" school but
Andrea's breasts were overwhelming. Some things are
impressive because of sheer size. The Saturn 5 booster
was impressive. So were her breasts.
"You see my problem," Andrea said. "I have a case of
macromastia. Really big boobs. It's the reason I dress
the way I do. I've got to hide them or most people
will treat me as just a pair of tits and won't take me
seriously. I had to show them to you up front because
there wasn't a ghost of a chance that you wouldn't see
them tonight. And I want to keep working with you. So
look. Get it out of your system. You can even touch
them if you want. I promise I won't be offended."
"Andrea, you look fine. I can't say that I'm not
interested. What normal guy wouldn't be interested?
But I respect your abilities and how much you have
contributed to the program too much to let my male
desires get in the way. Sleep nude if you want. I'll
keep strictly to my side of the room."
"I'm glad you feel that way but I have another
problem. I leak. I started lactating in my early 20s
because of a hormone abnormality. The doctor called it
a mild case of galactorrhea. She said that a lot of
women have this problem. One day my breasts just
started to drip milk. It was just a few drops at
first, then slowly increased to an amount normal for a
breastfeeding mother. And before you ask, I've never
been pregnant."
"The doctor explained that the condition was due to a
hormone excess that would probably diminish with time.
It wasn't dangerous or anything. Just annoying. At
first I tried simply absorbing the drips with breast
pads but after a while the flow became too much. Now I
have to milk myself a couple of times a day or it gets
painful. Do you mind if I do it now? You can watch if
you want. It's not gross or anything."
"No, I don't mind." I said. "In fact I would like to
see you do it if it won't embarrass you."
I don't know what I thought she would do. Perhaps use
a purse sized breast pump. I didn't expect what she
actually did. Frankly, I was surprised.
Andrea simply pushed her robe aside and raised her
right boob. My eyes popped. I was startled by the fact
that she did it so nonchalantly. A tiny drop of milk
oozed out of the tip of the turgid nipple.
Andrea grasped her dripping breast with both hands and
raised it up. It was almost too big to hold in her
small hands. She gazed admiringly at the swollen
nipple and dug her fingers into the mound of breast
flesh. This made the nipple bulge even more. She
grasped her nipple between her fingers and massaged it
vigorously. Her fingers pressed the bulging areola and
a thin stream of milk emerged from the nipple.
"See, " Andrea said. "It's really leaking. I may have
waited a bit too long. Would you like some milk in
your coffee? I know I would." Her last remarks really
shocked me. But, I'm sure that Andrea felt "In for a
penny, in for a pound."
She leaned over and squeezed the end of her tittie,
squirting a stream of mother's milk into her coffee
cup. I'm sure I had a startled look on my face. I
licked my lips.
I stopped Andrea before she could do my cup.
"I like my coffee black." I paused for a while, then I
said. "But what does it taste like? I've never tasted
human milk before."
"Well, it tastes like . . ." She hesitated a moment,
then said, "I can't describe it. Why don't you come
over here and find out?" She sat down on the couch and
patted the seat next to her. "Come over here."
"Now put my nipple in your mouth and start sucking.
Don't bite me though."
She held her huge naked breast up with both hands and
offered it to me. I staggered over in a daze and sat
next to her. The large nipple was stiff in
anticipation. It was nearly an inch long and half an
inch thick, centered in a perfect areola. She put a
hand behind my head and placed her nipple in my gaping
mouth. I felt the rough nipple with my tongue and
closed my lips around it. I sucked like through a
straw but nothing came out.
"You have to squeeze the flesh around the nipple
against the roof of your mouth with your tongue for
the milk to start." She coached. "That's how the
babies do it. It's just like milking a cow."
I followed her instructions. I never milked a cow
before but I was rewarded with a flow of my milk. She
pressed my head into her breast as I sucked. Although
I started tentatively, I was really getting into it.
My cheeks hollowed and filled and I sucked so strongly
that I thought that I would swallow her whole boob.
That would have been a real tough job.
As I nursed her I became aware that I had a raging
erection. It pushed a tent in my robe. I hoped Andrea
wouldn't notice. No such luck. With her free hand she
fished out my hard penis. Andrea wrapped her hand
around it and began stroking. It was so matter of fact
that I had no time to pull back. With a few strong
strokes I erupted, spewing cum over her hand. I'm sure
she could tell the instant I came by the way my jaw
clamped down on her tit. She held me even tighter to
her chest as I continued to suck. Finally the milk
supply was exhausted. We both sat up, her naked breast
hanging obscenely out of her robe, my now limp cock
protruding from my own robe.
"I'm sorry for the way I behaved," I said. "It's
really unlike me. I just got carried away."
"It's all my fault," Andrea said as she stuffed her
boob back into her robe. "I started the whole thing.
And I enjoyed your mouth on my nipple. Are you sure
you've never milked a cow?"
We talked for a while but we simply danced around the
topic. I knew that before the evening was over I would
fuck Andrea. She knew it too but we were bound by
convention to observe the proprieties. She took off
her robe and exposed both of her breasts in their
entirety. These were not the breasts of a nymphet but
mature, sexual boobs promising erotic pleasure. She
offered them to me as if she was giving me a precious
gift.
My cock was already starting to erect again. Andrea
had something more interesting in mind than having me
just nibble on her boobs. Dropping to her knees, she
grabbed my cock and jammed it into her mouth. She
stroked and sucked, giving me my first good blowjob in
over a year. And it was one of the best ones. My cock
became hard as iron. She was going to make me cum
again. But before I came, I grasped her under the arms
and pulled her up and lifted her like a baby. I
deposited her in the middle of the bed. It was the
one she had selected after winning the coin toss.
Andrea's hand guided my cock to its target. I felt it
push her pussy lips apart as I penetrated her cunt. No
hesitation. I just plunged into her, so far that my
cock bottomed against her cervix. Her clit was being
massaged by our pubic bones.
It had been a long time since I had fucked a woman
like this. Fucked, fucked, YES!! That was my hard cock
in her cunt. Her wet vagina massaged my penis as I
thrust in and out. Andrea had marvelous muscle control
of her pussy. Much better than a hand job. YES!!
Andrea was being royally fucked. Just as I suspect she
wanted to be. We were indefatigable. My first climax
of the evening had taken the urgency out of my passion
and I was now in it for the long haul. I tried to play
it cool. It was all I could do not to shout for joy.
She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me into her
with her strong calves. I felt Andrea's left breast
start to leak. It was the one that had not been
emptied. She pushed the nipple to my mouth. What a
wonderful feeling, fucking and sucking at the same
time. I knew that I was going to ejaculate. My body
began to respond almost automatically.
I heard Andrea screaming, "OH MY GOD! DO IT TO ME
HARDER. I'M GOING TO CUM! I'M CUMMING! I'M JUST A CUNT
THAT'S CUMMING. I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING NOW! I'M
CUUUMMMING!"
So much for being cool. We both came in the mother of
all climaxes. Just to prove that it wasn't a fluke, we
fucked each other another time with similar results.
Every scientist knows that you have to repeat an
experiment to ascertain its validity.
About midnight we decided we needed some refreshments.
The restaurant was closed so we raided the mini bar.
Andrea's bountiful breasts needed emptying every four
hours. Her huge boobs forced us to improvise a sexual
position not mentioned in the Kama Sutra. To
accommodate our love making and breast milking at the
same time Andrea sat in my lap facing me, skewered on
my hard penis. She raised one of her nipples to my
mouth and the other to her own mouth.
We fucked each other gently while we feasted on her
milk. I'm sure that some men and a few women as well
might think that drinking human milk is yucky but I
confess that I rather liked the taste. And, of course
I liked the container that Andrea's milk came in. Even
after fondling them for half the night, I couldn't get
over the size of Andrea's tits. Andrea loved the fact
that I appreciated her huge breasts as well. She said
that that many of her dates were turned off by them.
After a couple of more minibar drinks, Andrea told me
about the problems of having outsized breasts. She
felt that there was no male parallel to having a set
of large boobs sticking out of the front of your
chest. Men just didn't appreciate the problem. Her
titties were heavy. So heavy that she sometimes lost
her balance if she moved too quickly. Another
disadvantage of big breasts is that there really was
no comfortable way to sleep. Lying on her stomach was
difficult.
She found that she could lay on her side and once in a
while stretched the upper breast up to her mouth. That
was fairly comfortable. She would gently tongue the
nipple. It was like a baby going to sleep with a
pacifier. Andrea felt that her breasts dominated much
of her life so much that she would damned well get
some pleasure out of them.
She said that she masturbated frequently. She would
put both hands around a fleshy mound, raise her titty
to her mouth and suck on her nipple until it became
swollen and aroused. Then she would do the same to the
other. When both nipples were as hard as she could get
them, she would grasp the bulging teats between her
teeth and start chewing. She could suck on them for
hours. After she started lactating she would nurse
from her own boobies while she massaged her cunt until
she came. Andrea attributed much of her success on the
job to the fact that she could satisfy her sexual
urges by herself. She didn't have to spend a lot of
time being nice to a lover.
She must have been more than a little drunk when she
told me that she loved masturbating with her boobies.
And who wouldn't I thought. If I was a woman and had
breasts like that, I would use them myself every
night.
Andrea said, "When I was in high school I used to hate
my boobs. I couldn't wear all those cute clothes that
were advertised in Seventeen. But then I found that
boys liked my big titties. After I began to have sex I
changed my mind. I liked them too. They are great sex
toys. I like to pull my boobs hard. I'll bet that I
could stretch my boobs so far that I could even fuck
myself with my nipple."
"No way," I replied, "They're big but I don't think
they are that big. You might be able to touch your
cunt with your nipple but I don't think you could bend
it enough to actually put it in your vagina. I'll bet
you anything you want that you can't do it."
As you can see, we must have both been pretty drunk to
have that kind of conversation.
"Well," slurred Andrea, "I've never tried to fuck
myself with my tittie before so it's really an
experiment. The only way for us to find out if I can
do it is for me to try it. I'll have fun trying."
Andrea fluffed her hair, stretched and bent over a few
times as if to loosen herself up. When she leaned over
to touch her toes, her nipples almost reached the
floor as soon as her fingers. Her breasts were
amazing.
"Now for the big experiment."
Andrea sat on her bed with her back against the
headboard. She raised her hips as far as she could and
leaned forward dropping her left shoulder. This put
her left nipple below the level of her now engorged
clit. It didn't quite reach far enough to bend
backward and insert into her cunt. She could pull it
down with her hands but the moment she released it, it
sprang back. She needed both hands for what she had in
mind. What to do?
Andrea pulled the soft terry cloth belt off of her
bathrobe and looped it twice around her dangling boob.
She pulled it tight and knotted it. Binding her breast
worked just as she expected. The end bulged like a
water balloon and stretched the tit at least two more
inches. She reached down with her left hand and tugged
up under her left thigh. Her yoga practice must have
always kept Andrea quite flexible and now it paid off.
Her nipple was now well below clit level. She paused
for a moment, admiring the fact that she could bend so
far.
The end of her breast was between her thighs and she
as pressed them together the end bulged out still
further. With both hands she reached beneath her legs
and held the tip of her tit. She could easily rub her
nipple on her clit.
"Oh wow! That feels good. I'll have to remember that."
Andrea grasped the stiff nipple of her left breast and
pulled it out as far as she could. And then she did
it. She stuffed the nipple and a bit of her areola
into her wet cunt holding it there with her fingers.
Her middle finger penetrated her cunt and pushed the
nipple in farther. Andrea worked the nipple with her
middle finger moving it in and out slightly. The
nipple's movements massaged her clit.
She turned her face to me, obviously proud of what she
could do.
She tried to smile but there was a look of barely
controlled sexual tension in her eyes. She was
obviously trying to hold back an orgasm.
Her finger motions became more and more aggressive,
her nipple harder and harder. The nipple was now well
into her cunt and the little bumps of her areola were
rubbing against her engorged clit. Her stiff nipple
was making love to her receptive clitoris. Andrea
pulled herself down further with her left hand and
shoved more and more of her areola into her vagina.
Everything was well lubricated from her cunt's natural
moisture and the few drops of milk streaming from her
tortured tit. The fingers of her right hand beat a
tattoo on both her breast and the exposed lips of her
cunt.
"I'm really doing it," she said. "I'm fucking myself
with my own tit and it feels wonderful." She talked
quietly. "Oh, it feels so good!. My titty and clitty
are kissing each other. Fucking each other. I love
it!. It's from both ends of me. I can't believe I can
actually fuck myself with my own tit. What a turn on!"
The signs of a coming climax were all over her body,
slow at first because of her awkward position, then
more and more intense. I could see the vibrations of
her legs on the end of the tit captured between her
thighs. Her calves tensed, pointing her toes. The
waves of breast flesh rippled over her extended boob.
She tried to prolong the moment but her fingers kept
moving out of her control. Faster and harder. Faster
and harder. Thighs squeezing her breast. Nipple
against clitoris. Andrea made a noise like a cat
whimpering. It looked like she could barely stand the
pleasure. She would cum in just a few more seconds.
Then Andrea's legs spasmed and she exploded in a
massive climax, uncoiling from her cramped position
like a released spring.
"I did it!" Andrea shouted as she lay splayed out on
the bed. She had a bit of a finger bruise on her thigh
from the tightness of her grip. As she sat up she
brought her abused nipple to her mouth and savored the
combined taste of milk and pussy juices. Andrea turned
to me and held out her arms.
"It's your turn now, big boy. I won the bet. You said
you would do anything I asked. Now stick your cock in
me, chew my titties and pay off by fucking me so hard
I can't stand."
Andrea's sex show had made my cock as hard as it had
ever been. In retrospect, I know that she had intended
to seduce me but I was certainly a willing victim.
I'll never know if it was a maneuver to ingratiate
herself with her boss or to amuse herself during the
hours of snowbound delay. Clearly I had fallen for one
of the standard plots of porn fiction. You know the
one, the lactating woman on a trip who finds her
breasts swelling so badly that she has to find some
accommodating man who will suck the milk out of her
titties. I was that man.
But all that was irrelevant. No matter what her
original intent, Andrea got caught in her own trap.
Our sexual pleasure was so intense that the original
purpose for the seduction was forgotten. We made love
to each other in an almost manic fashion, each pulling
orgasms out of the other's body when we should have
been totally exhausted. We were two animals in heat. I
ate her cunt. She sucked my cock. And we fucked again
and again. We literally quivered in repeated ecstasy.
It was a marathon of sex. The best ever for both of
us. We never used my bed at all.
Our night long orgy was interrupted by a wakeup call
the next morning. The runways at National Airport in
Washington had been cleared and our flight would take
off in two hours. Just in time to dress, have
breakfast and make the plane. The flight back was
uneventful. After we landed Andrea and I went our
separate ways. Her only acknowledgment of our shared
adventure was a peck on the cheek and a whisper in my
ear, "Thank you SO much for last night."
The funny thing about our brief affair was that before
being grounded in Chicago I never thought about Andrea
in a sexual way. I respected her as a professional and
that was it. After we got back to Washington we met in
meetings but neither of us contacted the other for a
repeat performance. I guess it was always on the
table. We exchanged knowing glances from time to time.
But nothing ever happened.
A couple of months after my return to DC I received an
appointment as a professor at a New York university, a
job I had been angling for years. I left NASA for New
York. The Gemini project was just about completed
anyway. Andrea and I never were intimate again but I'm
sure we will both remember that snowbound night
forever.
And that's how the space program was carried out.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 76