by Albino Finch
It had been a week and a half since a small meteorite had plunged through the hull of the ship, leaving the cabin thankfully untouched, but knocking out the shuttle's computer and communications systems, leaving the two man crew floating helpless in the void of space, cut off from the rest of humanity. In a few weeks, maybe less, their oxygen would run out, and they would both die. Rescue did not seem forthcoming. The only other vehicle capable of space flight on Earth was, when they left, in the midst of extensive repairs.
Alan stared straight ahead, lost in thought, for a long time. He considered carefully what he was about to say.
"Gerd, one thing I've always hated about these long missions was... well... that... ah..."
"The boredom?" Gerd offered.
"Well, there's that. Yup. The boredom's definitely bad. But that's not what I was thinking of."
"What were you thinking of, Al?"
"The sexual frustration, Gerd."
"Oh. Oh ya. Ya. That's definitely bad as well."
"Yes, Gerd. Yes it is."
There was a long pause then.
"Well, Al, we've been on a few missions-"
"Why are you bringing this up now?"
"Because this time we might die."
"I don't want to die with an unsatisfied erection, Gerd."
"OK. Well, I'll stay here, and you take as long as you need in the cabin. And then, I guess, I'll go to the cabin." Gerd blushed.
They sat there for a long time.
"Why aren't you going to the cabin, Al."
"Well, Gerd, I was just thinking. You've seen porno movies, right?"
"Um. Ya. A couple."
"A lot of them?"
"Well, you know. A few. Quite a few, I guess. Ya, I've seen 'em."
"Ya. You know what always turned me on about porno movies, Gerd? The blow-jobs. I don't know about you, Gerd, but I've never received a blow-job. My wife... She's just... I... She's just not into it."
"Why are you telling me this, Al?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just making conversation, I guess."
"Well, can we talk about something else?"
"Ya, I guess."
There was another long, long pause.
"Look, Gerd, I want a blow-job before I die. We don't have a woman here, but we've got two mouths, and if we close our eyes, it will be good enough. Now you'll do me and I'll do you. OK?"
Gerd stood up and floated to the back of the cockpit. He sighed heavily.
"Ah, shit, Al. What are you thinking of?"
"I'm thinking of dying, Gerd. And I'm thinking I'd rather die happy then frustrated."
Gerd leaned over a control panel, staring hard at it. He sighed hard again. He floated back and forth across the cockpit, doing the best imitation of pacing he could manage in zero gravity.
"What makes you think I could make you happy?"
"Well, we've both seen those movies. I think we have an inkling of what do to."
"I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Well, we could practise." "Practice?" Gerd was screaming now. "Practice? It's not a skill I'd hoped to acquire when I joined NASA."
"Gerd, have you looked outside. We're in fucking SPACE man. We are going to DIE. I don't know about you, but I want to squeeze every drop of pleasure from the last moments of my life, and if that means another man has to supply it... Well..."
Gerd sighed heavily again. Al had a point. He thought long and hard, and for the first time in his life, said:
"OK, what the hell."
"Great. Let's get started."
"What, right now?"
"Why not? You got something better to do?"
"Alright, but not here. In the cabin. The window makes me nervous."
Al closed the cabin door behind him, covered the cabin's
camara lens with a shirt, and unzipped his flight suit.
And so it was. Alan and Gerd floated in the middle of the
cabin, pleasuring each other. This isn't so bad, Gerd thought.
It's kind of nice.
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