Date: Sun, 23 Aug 2020 08:19:54 +0200
From: Daniel Comnenus <daniel.comnenus@gmx.com>
Subject: Space Colony Chronicles (part 5)

SPACE COLONY CHRONICLES (5)

By Dolphin Dan


*** This story takes place against the backdrop of an alternate history
where, after the U.S. Apollo Moon landing program ended in 1972, the United
States and Soviet Union, and eventually other countries, joined together in
a massive concerted effort to build a large Earth-orbiting space station
capable of sustaining a significant human population in space. This
alternate history explores a trajectory of peace and cooperation that was
not taken, instead of a course of antagonism and conflict that, in the real
world, was. Peace and cooperation is always better than war and
conflict. [/Dolphin rant OFF Execute Program Space Colony Chronicles 5.0]
***


In my junior year in high school, which began in 1989, I seduced Cedric Van
Hoomissen, the son of a Dutch engineer aboard the space station Cooperation
1, who was a year older than me. I was 16, about to turn 17. Cedric, 17
about to be 18, seemed reluctant at first, but eventually he got into
it. I'm not sure he warmed up to me as much as he realized that, living on
a space station, the opportunities to get laid were extremely
limited. Cedric's parents and my parents got along very well and they were
delighted that Cedric and I had hit it off, but clearly none of the adults
had any clue that we were more interested in each other's dicks than
anything else. For about six months we fucked pretty intensively. Our
parents tended to leave us alone together, so we got away with a lot even
in the small space of the station. When I first came onto him I jacked him
off in his underwear. Soon he took the lead, and within a month or so we
were regularly giving each other oral sex. One time, just experimentation,
Cedric asked me if I would let him try to fuck my ass. This was my first
experience with anal sex which I had long fantasized about. He got the head
of his penis into me, but evidently didn't like it because he withdrew and
we didn't do it again. It was only later that I realized Cedric wanted to
be the receptive partner of anal sex. It never even occurred to me that a
guy older and physically much bigger than me (Cedric was quite chubby)
would want me to penetrate him. That did not occur right away, but did
eventually.

His father was extremely demanding. I was over at their apartment one time
and I witnessed his father, an award-winning astrophysicist, literally
screaming at him in Dutch. I had no idea what the conflict was about but
when his father left the room Cedric's eyes got all glazed and he was
almost crying. It was clear his family experience was not so good.

To make matters even more complicated, Cedric's sexuality was ambiguous. He
totally denied being gay and honestly he was probably right. There were
gender identity issues. He asked me once if I ever wondered what it would
feel like to be a woman being fucked by a man. He seemed fascinated by it,
but honestly the thought had never occurred to me. On another occasion he
told me that sometimes he wished he had been born a girl. He asked me, "Is
that weird?" I gave a non-committal answer. Cedric owned a couple of pairs
of women's panties. I had no idea where he got them, especially on the
space station. One time we were together, an afternoon we spent at his
apartment while his parents were out, he wore them. He got immensely turned
on as I stroked his hardening dick through the satin fabric. He had a sharp
gasping orgasm, shooting into the panties and completely ruining them. I do
not know if Cedric had transgender tendencies or, if he did, how strong
they were. In these days I was mostly out for my own pleasure. I was 17,
and this was an era when complex gender identity and sexuality issues
weren't on the radar screen.

Finally, in January, this was the year 1990, Cedric asked me if I would
fuck him. He confessed that this was the main thing he wanted to do with
me, and he was uncomfortable doing anything else. So we were in his
bedroom, he got some baby oil and laid down on his bed. He raised his legs
up over my shoulders, your standard gay missionary position, and he
insisted on covering his chest and stomach with a pillow because he said he
was fat and didn't want to turn me off. (It did not turn me off in the
slightest, I thought his body was quite attractive). I had no experience
with anal sex and Cedric lay there as if he was expecting me to know
exactly what to do. I greased my dick up with the oil and started pressing
my dickhead against his hole, or what I thought was his hole. He reached
down and guided me closer to it. I pressed against it as hard as I could
but nothing happened. At one point I even said, "This isn't going to work."
But Cedric reached down, took his thumb and forefinger and spread his own
anus apart, and very suddenly my penis slid deeply inside him. He gasped
and squirmed a little. I asked if I hurt him. He said, "No, it feels good."
He put his knees up over my shoulders. Almost involuntarily I started
humping against him, moving my hips in a circular motion. The tightness of
Cedric's ass around my cock was like nothing I'd experienced before.

Cedric moaned and grunted a little bit with each stroke. He whispered
something I couldn't understand and I guess it was in Dutch. After a little
while I felt a tingling at the base of my penis and I told him breathlessly
that I thought I was going to cum soon. Immediately he said, "Do it in me!"
I groaned. I told him again I was going to cum. He got even more
excited. "Cum inside me!" At the end it was so intense I almost couldn't
handle it. I ground my hips against Cedric's butt, held still for a moment
and gasped as my dick exploded inside him. He must've really liked it
because he shuddered and squirmed with excitement. Just before I was about
to pull out the muscles of his ass clamped down hard on my dick. He threw
off the pillow just in time and his small penis started erupting all over
his rounded belly. His butt was so tight that it literally expelled me. I
sat there panting, grasping Cedric's hairy knees, and he shuddered again
and I could see goosebumps on his arms and across his chest. "That was
great!" He had finally gotten penetrated by a man, which I guess was his
fantasy. To be honest it was almost too much for me.

After that, all Cedric wanted to do was to lay there and let me fuck him. I
estimate that I did him about six or seven times over the next few
months. He did not let me suck his dick and he made no attempt to please me
in that way. In fact toward the end we barely touched each other except for
the contact necessary for me to penetrate him anally. I remembered the
conversations with my brother where he expressed incredulity that anyone
could enjoy anal sex, or even that it was possible at all. Cedric proved
that wrong. That there were deep psychological issues behind this activity
is clear to me now but wasn't then. One time, late in our relationship, we
got together and Cedric said, "Can we pretend that you're my husband and
I'm your wife?" This was a little uncomfortable because I had no interest
in girls and could't be bothered even to pretend I was hetero. By this I
mean, it wasn't that I was openly gay or admitted it or acted the way most
people thought of being stereotypically gay at that time. But I liked guys
and when I was with a guy I wanted to enjoy being with a guy. I liked hairy
armpits and hairy legs and hard dicks and the harsh groaning sound of a guy
having an orgasm. Pretending he was a girl didn't turn me on. He liked it,
though, and I was barely starting to realize, at age 17, that sex was not
necessarily all about me.

In the spring of 1990, the fourth senior class of Cooperation 1 High School
officially graduated. There were 8 students who graduated as seniors that
year, four girls and four boys, and among them were Greg Park, who was
still dating Shelley, and Cedric Van Hoomissen. Therefore, technically I
had sex with 25% of the senior class, and half of the males in the senior
class, a percentage that I doubt the most prolific high school stud back on
Earth could match. So far as I know neither Greg nor Cedric, who did not
like each other, ever knew that the other had had sex with me. Watching
that graduation ceremony in our tiny high school library was really
awkward. For the only time it seemed that Cedric's father was proud of him.

College was a big and complicated deal on the space station and it was
bound up with issues of class. There was no university aboard, but because
most of us kids on the colony were sons and daughters of engineers and
astronauts, of the kids who graduated from Cooperation 1's high school,
virtually all were guaranteed to go on to college. Unlike most high
schools, ours did not create what you might call a blue collar class. Any
student who went to college, which was almost all of us, would have to
leave the station and go back to Earth. But because it was so expensive to
transport people back and forth from the station to Earth--you had to get a
seat on a space shuttle, which were booked years in advance--it wasn't like
college kids would be able to come back to see their families for Christmas
or summer breaks. And because the job opportunities on Cooperation 1 were
so few, it also meant that there was virtually no incentive for a young
person who went to college back on Earth to ever return to the space colony
and a return trip was prohibitively expensive. Essentially this meant that,
as a practical matter, parents of teenagers who graduated high school would
basically say goodbye to their children for all time, literally the rest of
their lives, when they left to go to college. When they built the station
and started inviting families to live there no one had thought of this.

Eventually a committee of parents aboard Cooperation 1, including mine,
worked in conjunction with NASA, the U.S. Department of Education, several
universities and a number of private corporations to try to solve this
problem. A consortium of universities including MIT, Cal Tech, Stanford,
Princeton, UCLA and the University of Chicago made deals with the federal
government. The universities would offer a select number of admissions
slots to students from Cooperation 1 families. NASA and the government
would pay up to 80% of these students' tuition, room and board and books,
and also offer them guaranteed transportation slots on space shuttles,
transporting them to and from the colony at the beginning and end of their
college careers, plus one visit during a 4-year term. The catch was that
the students enrolled in this special program had to promise that after
college they would return to the space colony and work in one of a slate of
jobs offered by the corporations who were in on the deal, which included
Raytheon, Halliburton, Lockheed, IBM, McDonnell-Douglass and eventually
Microsoft, Apple and Amazon. As a student you could decide not to come
back, but if you did that suddenly your family would owe the government all
the subsidies they paid for your education and you would likely never see
your family again. The other major governments, such as the UK, France and
Holland, made similar deals; the Soviets and Chinese had their own
state-sponsored system. So basically this was a form of high-tech
indentured servitude that ensured, as the price of us getting college
educations, that we would return to live on the space colony, most likely
for the rest of our own lives.

Because this was the only game in town, everybody took this deal. Greg and
his family took the deal; Greg got into MIT despite having grades much
lower than most of their students. Cedric took the deal; he went to the
University of Amsterdam. I signed up for this deal during the spring of my
junior year, about the same time I was learning to plow Cedric's butt, and
I got into the engineering program at Stanford. My brother Luke signed up
for the program that same year when he was still a sophomore. He never had
to take the SAT and he got into Cal Tech with a GPA of 2.78. The program
was pretty corrupt. But that was life on the space station: perks that
seemed absolutely outrageous to most people, but balanced by privations
that were equally unfair cutting against us. If you grew up on the station
you simply didn't have the same freedom of choice with your life as other
people did.

My final year of high school was pretty uneventful. Bill, Greg and Cedric
were all gone and I was no longer doing anything with my brother. There was
a younger kid I liked, a freshman who just came to the station when I was a
senior. His name was Thomas and he was quite cute, with bright eyes and a
blond mullet (it was 1990, remember), but I don't think he had any gay
tendencies and didn't seem to pick up on any signals I was giving
out. Needless to say nothing happened. The Cold War seemed to be coming to
an end. Down there on Earth, there was a brief war in the Persian Gulf. We
could see the lights of the burning Kuwaiti oil wells from the observation
deck of Cooperation 1. It seemed that in the blink of an eye I was standing
up there in the school library getting my diploma. There would be a couple
of idle weeks in the summer, and then in mid-July I had a seat on the space
shuttle Excalibur for a flight back to Earth. I would not see my family or
any of my friends back on the space colony for two years. I was excited to
go but also terrified. For 5 years of my life I'd known nothing but the
station.

Due to cargo limitations on the space shuttle I could take one large duffel
bag of belongings with me--basically one suitcase for two years. Everything
else I owned was packed into plastic crates in a storage area on the
station, literally vacuum-sealed. Buried deep in the shrunk-down piles of
clothes within those crates was the pair of underwear I'd stolen from that
kid Jason who I had a crush on just before we left Earth. Later during the
time I spent in college on Earth I would occasionally see the bright dot of
Cooperation 1 passing overhead and think, "Yeah, Jason's underwear is still
up there."

Just before I left, the first public park aboard Cooperation 1 opened in
the American sector. The inner ring of the station was nearly complete and
the interior surface, curving upwards out of sight, was heavily planted
with trees and greenspace. We had a farewell barebcue in the park for me on
the night before I left. It was awkward and strange. Later that night after
gonig to bed I heard my mother crying through the wall of our apartment. At
7:30 the next morning the Excalibur detached from the docking station, did
three orbits to prepare their systems and then began the re-entry
procedure. I already felt homesick.

More to come...


My book, "An American Elf in Paris," is out now:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BNVGZYQ

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