Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2001 20:29:55 -0700 (PDT) From: Tamara J Subject: Astronaut 4 The male astronauts knew better than to interrupt their female partners in the process of checking out the new space toilet in the huge empty fuel tank that served as the women's quarters of the space station. There are some social taboos that people are not ready to part with. What they didn't remember is that there is no privacy at all in the giant cylindrical cavern, and they had no idea about the lesbian orgy that ensues. Panting heavily from their exertions, the women slowly drifted apart. They had had no gravity to fight in their love-making, but that required much more effort in grappling with each other to force lips to lips, and cunt to cunt. The taste and smell of sweat and fuck-juice clung to their faces and hair, and they all realized that soon a better shower was going to be needed if their secret was not to become common knowledge. Sharon drifted over to the hobby-horse, as Karen instantly dubbed the new toilet, and looked at it sadly. It was a wonderful design, for anyone who could hook her shins under the bars to hold her body in place. But without legs, Sharon would never be able to create the required vacuum seal. "Don't worry." Sasha tried to reassure her, "We hold you down on seat. We maybe lick your nipples while you pee." "Thanks, but you can't always be here. And I don't want to wake anyone up in the middle of the night just to use this thing." Sharon responded. Life without legs was not without problems, even in space. "Don't worry. I will fix it." Connie interrupts, "But I will need a few things from Houston. I will be sure they are on next shuttle." For the next few weeks Sharon buried herself in her work. As the leading EVA specialist, she directed deployment of the space dust counter. It consisted of a frame holding an ultra-thin membrane whose job it was to be punctured by any particle striking it with a force of a nano-newton or more. In another 6 months she would be out collecting the film so it could be sent back to Earth for the scientists to count and measure the holes. The frame was no problem, but handling the fragile membrane while wearing space gloves was painstaking and slow work. One day after stowing her suit, Sharon felt particularly stinky with sweat. She made her way to the women's quarters and slipped out of her leotard, ignoring Connie and Sasha who were engrossed in a game of Go. Sasha was an international grandmaster at chess, and was fascinated when Connie had arrived at the station with a steel Go board with magnetic stones. Sharon drifted over to the rudimentary wash station that was all they had in the converted rocket-fuel tank where she lived. It consisted only of a small container where a limited amount of soapy water could be squirted directly into a sponge, for someone to wipe herself off. Sasha looked up from her game, and could tell from Sharon's abrupt movements that she was upset. Sharon was not waiting for each sponge to be saturated, then wiping herself with vicious swipes. Sasha reached and tapped Connie on the shoulder, then pointed over to where Sharon was grumpily doing a bad job of cleaning herself. The Japanese woman understood, and they both propelled themselves toward their friend. Sharon was brutally scrubbing behind her neck when four soft hands closed on her body. One hand firmly took the sponge from her, while Connie whispered in her ear, "Relax. We have a better way to do that." Then Sharon felt Sasha's tongue against her lower ribs. Connie drifted around and began to lick the perspiration from Sharon's forehead and eyebrows. When she got to the eyes, Sharon's eyelids closed and stayed that way. Sharon obeyed the command to relax. She let herself drift in space as her fellow astronauts treated her to a thorough tongue bath. Hands occasionally slid across her breasts and ass, but they only gripped her hard enough to hold lips to her body. All of the built-up sweat of a long EVA disappeared, the salt being licked from her body by two tender lovers. The erotic feeling of a tongue probing her armpit sent shivers throughout her body. ---------- Meanwhile back on Earth, an order clerk at Victoria's Secret looked up from her work, and announced to her co-workers, "Hey everybody! You won't believe this, but NASA mission control has ordered 4 of bridal garter-belt #5F116-236! And they want them shipped to the Cape Canaveral launch center! What are those guys on the shuttle doing up there?" ----------- Connie murmured into Sharon's ear, "Don't worry. Soon the shuttle will cum, and we can fix everything." Sasha moved down to slowly lick away at Sharon's pussy, holding her face in place by gripping her friend's slim waist between her fore arms, with her hands gripping each other across Sharon's flat belly. Sharon gave herself up to the moment, as Connie drew her tongue down Sharon's neck, to her upper chest, to latch onto her nipple. The three women spun slowly in the spacious quarters, and if they ever hit a wall, the pressure of a single finger set them adrift again. Sasha and Connie were in no hurry, but their progress towards Sharon's orgasm was inexorable, and soon the legless girl was screaming in delight. Equally slowly, the Russian and Japanese women backed off, leaving Sharon to hang in space, more contented than before. Connie carefully licked Sharon's cum from Sasha's face before they returned to their game of Go. Several days later, the station was abuzz with anticipation, as the shuttle docked. In some ways it was a sad day, as Sasha was due to return to Earth, to be replaced by a new female Russian medical specialist. This new woman was arriving with gear that had been designed by Roberta, who had also designed the women's toilet, but nobody was quite sure what her medical work was all about. The briefings had been vague, and the men on the station were fairly sure they were about "Women's Problems". Tom, the #2 EVA person after Sharon, had even speculated openly that since the station had no measurable lunar tides, the Russian doctor was investigating that effect on the women's fertility rates. Mark, the station commander, told him to stop that kind of talk, as it was likely to either incite bad behavior or be bad for morale. Normally, on Shuttle Day, everyone is everywhere at once, but on this occasion Sasha was nowhere to be seen. 'Probably just finishing packing her stuff', everyone thought. But Sasha was already well packed. Instead, she was drifting in the women's quarters, carefully welding four hooks onto the side of the hobby horse. The shuttle carried two kinds of cargo; equipment to be attached to the outside of the station, and much smaller packages such as experimental gear and food to be passed inside the station. Sharon was hard at work on the first kind, while the shuttle commander directed the second. Mark directed the stowage as each item arrived. Suddenly, he was startled to find a clear sealed plastic package that obviously contained a number of lacy white garter belts. The mailing label addressed them to Connie. He was way too busy to think about that, so he stuffed the package into a storage bin, and would ask later. The most difficult item to bring into the station came in several parts, what appeared to be a motor, two swing arms, and two folding platforms, all just small enough to fit through the hatch. Mark simply ordered them bungeed to the wall of the reception area, to keep them out of the way. When all was unloaded, everyone was exhausted, and it was the end of the station "day". Even though there was always someone on duty, it was convenient to stay on Greenwich Standard Time. But Commander Mark decided that not was all over yet. The gear for the women's quarters was in the way in the small reception area of the station, and he wanted it moved. So all the women except Sharon went to the women's quarters, while the more numerous men brought the equipment to the entrance to the narrow passageway. It would be Sharon's job to guide each item from one end to the other. All went smoothly, and under Karen's direction everything was soon lashed to the netting that surrounded the walls. This had to be done carefully, because while a 80 kilogram piece of steel has no weight in space, it still has considerable inertia, and can be lethal. In the environs of the small space station, news of anything odd is soon known by everyone, so by the time everything was stowed, one of the men thought to hand the last item along to the next, to the next, until it reached Sharon. There was soon lots of joking commentary, but Mark was firm that they could keep their fantasies to themselves. Sharon took the final package into the women's quarters, and carefully closed the hatch. Karen and Sasha (mostly Sasha, because she could always switch over to Russian) were explaining to the new woman how to use the hobby-horse. Karen slid out of her light slippers with the very thin rubbers soles, and tashed them in a net bag against the wall, then her cover-all uniform and panties followed. Beautifully nude, she glided over and demonstrated the use of the women's toilet to the astonished newcomer. "In Russia, we would never have such a thing!" the new Doctor Irena exclaimed. "It looks like American toy!" "Actually, it was made by the same Canadian company that made your equipment, and they got the job because they were major sub-contractors on the station's mechanical arm. They don't send us many astronauts, but they are great mechanical engineers." Karen replied. "Da," agreed Sasha, "You need to pee? If not, you try it out anyway. Is part of your training!" "But..." Irena subsided. Unlike Sharon, who had taken to space like a fish to water, the doctor wasn't quite used to this yet. Also, she was light and thin, almost gaunt, while Sasha had months of space experience and the advantage of almost 15 kilograms more mass. Irena made no more protest as Karen dismounted and pulled off her new station slippers, while Sasha expertly stripped her of the rest of her clothes. As the American and the Russian introduced Irena to the technique (and joys) of the hobby horse, Sharon drifted over to Connie with the final package. "Connie, these are addressed to you! What use could you possibly have for garter belts in space? They are suppose to keep your stockings up, but half the time we don't even know what way up is!" Connie had stripped at the same time Karen had, and even though Sharon was still dressed in her legless coverall she drifted up to her, wrapped her arms around her tenderly, and whispered into the girl's ear, "They are for you, my darling!" Sharon was confused, "Darling? I am your darling?" "Of course! It was you who introduced me to the love of other woman, that day in the VF lab. And every woman here has been so good to me since." This confession had Sharon close to tears of joy, "But why garter belts? I don't even have any legs to put stockings on!" The Japanese astronaut pulled back and grinned at her American counterpart, "Perhaps it is just because I have a lingerie fetish, and here nobody wears a bra." It was true. Every female astronaut had arrived wearing a sensible spandex sports bra, and every one had abandoned it after her first 'night'. In space, your tits never sag. But every woman still wore panties, to avoid chafing in the most uncomfortable of places. Connie continued, "Now let's get this silly bag off of you, so we can watch the show." Quickly they stripped Sharon, then the two held hands, as with their other hands they loosely gripped the netting around the walls. The two gazed over at where the two most experienced women astronauts had already adjusted the knee bars, and Irena was rocking back and forth wildly, clutching at the big water bulb and squirting its stream of water back and forth from her cunt to her ass and back again. "Aaaaagggghhhh!" she screamed, and Sharon was glad she had closed the hatch leading to the rest of the station. It seemed that in the midst of an orgasm, Irena was a screamer. Finally the bulb ran out of water, and Irena seemed to wilt forward. Quickly, Karen and Sasha supported her, and instructed her again on the flushing mechanism. Irena seemed to recover her wits, and when the task was done, they gently guided her away from the hobbyhorse. Connie looked back at Sharon, "OK, it's your turn." "But I can't hold..." "Shush!" Connie silenced her friend. Then the Japanese woman ripped open the package, carefully withdrew one lacy garter belt, and let the bag with the other 3 drift away on the mild currents of the giant old fuel tank. "Let me." Connie whispered to Sharon, who decided to trust her friend and lover. Swiftly Connie wrapped the delicate-looking bit of lace around her waist, and fasten the hooks behind her. "It's like a back-hooking bra." Connie kept on talking. "Just put it on backwards, then move it around until it is front-ways. Now cum with me." Connie pushed off from the netting with now-practiced ease. Sharon had forgotten in the excitement of the moment to keep a hand on the net, so the Japanese girl propelled her easily toward the hobbyhorse. Once Sharon had something to hold onto, she was back in charge of her own body. If she had no legs, her arm strength was huge. Her hand grasped the base of the bidet bulb, and from the experience of watching her astronaut sisters use this mechanism many times, swung herself into the exact right position. But she also knew that if she peed, Newton's first law would take over, and she would drift slowly straight up, leaving the cabin full of wandering droplets of urine. Sharon turned to glare at Connie, "Now what?" Connie smiled, "Now you learn why I ordered you some garter belts. If you look carefully, you will see that Sasha has attached four small hooks to this beast. Two are down low, just under where Karen's knees come, and two are back, almost to the drain pipe." Connie floated around the women's toilet, continuing to explain, "First you do the front left, then you do the right rear, to keep your balance. Just slip the garter wires over the hooks, then repeat the process on the other diagonal. The garter belt will hold you down to the toilet, without any help from the rest of us!" Having watched Irena's first time just minutes ago, and with all the suggestive language about peeing, Sharon found that she did indeed have to go. The procedure was drilled into her head and she followed it perfectly. But instead of Irena's wild ride, Sharon was very deliberate. She shoved the bulb forward, and squeezed hard. The blast of water against her pussy lips parted them and attacked her clit. "Agh...Agh...Agh" Sharon's cries were barely squeaks of passion. Connie could almost see the smoke cumming from her friend's ears, as Sharon slowly forced herself to pull back on the bulb. Connie grinned, for like Karen and Sasha, she had taken to using the toilet as a masturbation tool, much better than a dildo. She could tell exactly when the jet of water started to penetrate Sharon's vagina, as the girl's hands clutched the bulb even harder, and she closed her eyes and started to moan, long and low. The bulb continued to collapse, so Connie whispered in Sharon's ear, "You're almost out of water, so pull back and do your ass." Sharon reluctantly pulled back on the bulb, and felt the jet of water cross her perineum. The water squirting on her ass was pleasurable, but not as intense as the jet on her clit or in her cunt. It was the perfect cum-down from her orgasm. Sharon opened her eyes; and there, just a few metres away, Karen and Sasha were greeting Irena in exactly the same way they had greeted Sharon on her arrival. She glanced over at Connie, and whispered, "Hey, we could do a pinwheel!" Connie grinned at Sharon, then launched herself into the swirling mass of women. Sharon cried out, "Hey! Wait for me! It took almost a minute to go through the flush procedure, and unhook all four corners of her garter belt. Then she grabbed the neck of the slowly-refilling bulb, and expertly sent herself spinning through space into the arms of the other four women. It took many minutes of ecstatic pawing and groping, but ended up with Sharon between Irena's legs, slurping madly at her pussy, while Karen and Sasha sucked on the Doctor's tits, and Connie held Irena in a lip-lock. The average momentum of each woman's arrival into the orgy sent them into their own spiral galaxy, swirling around the center of Irena's navel. =================================================== Dear Readers: I still write illustrated stories, which can't be posted here on the Nifty Archive, and if you would like to receive one each day, just write to me at and ask to be included on my private list. 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