CHAPTER 7
While others took their luggage to their rooms, their beautiful guide led them to the observatory where they watched the Earth get smaller as Ganymed flew away. The view stunned them. James read that the view of Earth from orbit made all the long hours worth it, according to every astronaut who ever voiced an opinion. They docked when the asteroid was closest to Earth, so every moment took them farther away. They would actually spend a week traveling one hundred thousand kilometers towards the Moon until their orbit returned them. The same capsule would take them back to Earth.
The downside was there was no way to get home for two whole weeks. It felt like the Florida Turnpike when the next exit isn’t for another fifty miles.
It would take several years to complete the maglev catapult on the asteroid’s surface. The company could send non-live cargo to the Moon, Mercury, or Mars by speeding up a shorter rail, and fit astronauts could tolerate a constant acceleration of 5 g’s, but sending ordinary people or livestock required enough track that did not speed them past 2 g’s. Even then, they needed a ship to return. Building another maglev on the highest point on the Moon would take several more years. Ditto for Mercury and Mars. Until then, they would use their limited spaceships a lot by returning as few people as possible.
The beauty of space travel is that a ship does not lose speed. Ever. Well, intergalactic space had tiny amounts of dust and gas that slowed it a tiny bit over billions of kilometers but, for practical purposes within the solar system, it never slowed down until they applied the magnetic chute. And the longer the track, the longer they could increase the acceleration, which meant they left the catapult going that much faster.
This meant getting to the gas giants in several months instead of several years. Maglev launchers on the largest moons of the gas giants could turn traveling the solar system into a virtual space highway. Pluto, seven billion kilometers away, could even be within reach. The dwarf planet Eris, three times farther, yet bigger than Pluto, may require fusion propulsion to get there and back in one lifetime.
“You want to know the easiest way for aliens to destroy humanity?” James asked Jasmine, who was becoming something of an expert on space through massive reading. “Traveling trillions of miles is expensive, and every army marches on its belly, so instead of sending a massive military, any belligerent alien will instead send one ship that installs several mass thrusters to push Earth’s largest near-Earth-object into the planet. It’s cheap, fast, and easy. We now control Ganymed, so the next largest is Eros. The only way I’d support a speed-of-light laser weapon on Ganymed is if it’s only used to protect Earth from rocks. Or aliens.”
He wanted the audience to hear this because it pointed out the value of spending billions on a space port. More Americans believed in aliens than believed that Social Security would be there for them, so James needed to play every card in the deck.
“Damn it, James! You know how talk of an apocalypse turns me on.” Actually, the cameras that now focused on them turned Jasmine on. In any event, Jasmine decided to become the face of the first woman to have sex in space. She cared less if it was true — what mattered is that she became famous as the first. Securing that position in people’s minds would be easier if she was the first that people saw have sex in space. She quickly took off her travel clothes to reveal sexy red lingerie underneath. “I don’t know if I can wait until we get back to the hotel to start our honeymoon.”
“Get him, girl,” mama urged her. “Get him!”
“Who wants to join the Thousand Mile High Club?” James asked, taking off his shirt.
“Stop!” their hot tour guide objected. “You can’t imagine how hard it is to keep this place clean.”
James considered the optics. What better time to have sex than with Earth in the background? That meant now or never. He wanted to help sell the space port, and what sells better than sex? They got the female audience with the surprise marriage proposal and the epic wedding ceremony; now they needed the guys to pay attention. People would only see what Ganymed had to offer if they followed the show; and they would only follow the show if they kept things interesting. And what could generate more viral attention than the first orbital orgy?
“Look who wants a little kiss,” Gina said, fondling Bob’s boner through his pants.
“I think he wants more than a kiss,” Bob answered.
James never knew his father could strip on camera. He was pretty hung, but his dad didn’t undress to show off. Instead, he did whatever made Gina happy. Making her happy made him happy. Father and son gave each other the thumbs-up and laughed as their wives showed off their sexy bodies for the cameras.
Undressing for the first time in micro-gravity would have been humiliating if it weren’t so hilarious. When James shifted his weight onto one foot to take off a pants leg, his body would pop into the air until the tiny gravity brought him slowly down. He pulled off a shoe and shot backwards. A Russian kicked off a boot and everyone cringed when it struck the window.
“If you break the window,” Daniela reminded them, “the vacuum will suck us all out into space.”
Which is why Ganymed had more pressure doors than a submarine.
The Japanese guy threw his clothes in the air and everyone liked that so much that they copied him. It looked like it was raining laundry. Bob and Gina embraced, naked, before jumping high through the laundry, twisting and turning while making out like teenagers. James accidentally bounced off the window into the air and watched Jasmine carefully leap after him. She didn’t overcompensate a bit. She even turned in place as she slowly rose, grabbed his legs to maneuver her way to his cock. What little lingerie she wore did nothing to conceal anything important. All that flirting with the cameramen paid off as two of them framed her in their shots.
Oh, she gave such good head. Even when off camera. It’s like a cocaine addiction, except with cock instead of crack. Jasmine just felt so grateful for hitting the jackpot: a wonderful husband, a happy family, financial security, fame, and fortune. She had it all; now she just wanted to enjoy the party while it lasted.
The problem with happiness is it can’t be saved up. You either spend it now, in the present, or not. It can’t be budgeted or scheduled or organized, so Jasmine learned to enjoy it as much as she could, for as long as she could, as compensation for when shit happened. And shit always happens. Rain falls on everyone, goes the saying, but shit hits some people more than others. No longer poor, Jasmine wanted to feast on as many days as possible because you never know when you’ll fall back to earth.
James, no dummy, worked her legs around so he could also get some. His lovely wife opened her legs wide as he stuck his head in. The movements turned them faster, but that only added to the experience as he sucked her succulent peach. She really did taste great. And he loved her scent — not smell, but more of an aroma. The Asians he had been with hardly gave off any odor, while the few black ladies he ate out — God, he hated that phrase — could give smelling salts a run for their money. The one black wife was a gorgeous Halle Berry look-a-like, but with big boobs. She looked like she smelled good everywhere.
In contrast, licking Jasmine’s labia felt more like eating a great fruit salad. Minus the whip cream.
The two cameras dedicated to filming them during sex only made him harder, so James learned something new about himself. Since one of the Europeans went by the name Jim, Facebook, Twitter, and the chat rooms referred to James as the “guy with the hottie.” One unexpected result of having sex on camera is that he put a hell of a lot more energy into it. He didn’t want to make Jasmine cum for her sake, but for posterity. She not only had to cum for him, but cum often. So, hands on her butt cheeks, he worked his magic, thanking God that he paid attention these last several months. Instead of trying to read her mind, James solicited feedback. After hours of wonderful practice, he could now often unlock her safe like a cat burglar.
Jasmine’s groans grew louder and more urgent, so James kept up the pressure, pulling her to the summit. She responded by sucking him harder. 69-ing in space with Earth in the background was wonderful.
“I want to hear you scream,” James communicated to her pussy via telepathy.
“I ain’t cleaning up your cum, damn it!” Daniela yelled. “And if I accidentally fly into any, it’s your ass.”
Jasmine came first — not surprisingly. And theatrically, too. She tasted so good that James couldn’t get enough. However, he did help shake off a few drops for the cameras. His wife may over-act, but he needed everyone watching to know he did, in fact, make her cum. Otherwise they may start calling for a pitch hitter.
Jasmine rewarded his success through sheer willpower. She never used her hands, except to steady herself as they bumped into walls or other people. Bob and Gina pushed off from the ceiling to overshoot them. For some reason, seeing his dad plow his high school lover pushed him over the edge. Maybe the sheer contentment on their faces. Either way, he exploded so hard he lost a few neurons.
To her credit, Jasmine tried to swallow every drop, but several wads got away.
“Don’t you let that hit anyone!” their hot guide chastised Jasmine.
