18: Wednesday, July 15, 1145 hours CST: Launch
Zach arrived at the launch pad facility early, and he was still among the last to arrive. Excitement and nerves were in the air. The support staff ushered him into a room where the women were sitting around a dining table waiting for lunch. Lunch would be served promptly at noon. He sat down with his colleague Ayana on his left and the delightful Berte on his right. Across from him were the three Breeding Bitches. He turned to Berte and said in gentle tones, "What is your status Berte?"
Without looking up, Berte texted Zach's phone. He looked at her message. "Operational, my love. Nervous. All green ready for launch."
"Me too," Zach said.
She looked up from her phone and locked her sky blue eyes on his. "Kiss me," she demanded with a shy grin. He kissed her tenderly but briefly. Colby was watching from down the table, and he didn't want to antagonize her.
"Get a room, you two," Zach heard Michaela mutter with amusement.
Charisse piped up, "Oh, I feel their love energy is filling the room isn't it? It's blessing the mission. I'm so happy."
"Zachary and Berte sitting in a tree," chanted Alexis, "K-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby with a baby carriage." She added, "Except for the marriage part. Who can say, since we get to make the laws."
Zach turned from the lovely Berte and addressed the issue. "That's a good point, Alexis. We need to provide some legal basis that protects the future of our children. Maybe that's a law or laws or civil legal documents. Probably both would be good." The political discussion continued as Berte kissed Zach's neck in a most distracting way. He turned and kissed her again. Soon, everyone had arrived and lunch was served, and the table grew quiet. The solemn duties of the launch, docking procedure, and myriad emergency contingencies were foremost in their minds.
An hour later, Zach and his eleven female crewmates were ushered into a locker room containing their space suits. Ever the voyeur, he was discreetly curious for a flash of as-yet-unseen titties or snatches. As a medical doctor, he thought he'd outgrown his excitement at the prospect. His emotions were at a high pitch at the moment. He was horny at even the slightest of provocations. He was appropriately horny for all of these women.
Ayana was prominent in the room. She pointedly and seductively stripped naked in front of them. Her skin tone was uniform and flawlessly golden brown. Her quim was shaved bare. Her breasts, firm B's, were tipped with erect brown nipples. She put one foot up on a bench. She spread her labia, opening and examining her darker brown Asian lips and pink jellyroll conspicuously. He noted how excited his lesbian colleague was in their dressing room full of partially clad beauties. Zach noticed that Khushi saw this behavior and looked pointedly away. Ayana had Khushi in the bag, but she was still on the hunt. Finishing a long and careful examination, Ayana donned a fresh set of panties. She went braless under her flight suit and space suit.
Zach's other so-far-forbidden Asian crewmate Anming was undressing shyly but surely right next to him. She was medium height for a woman, eight inches shorter than him. She was rail thin, making her taut B-cup breasts and proportionately flared hips look prominent. She caught him spying on her progression of removed clothing articles.
This was partly because Zach had noticed something disturbing that was causing him to stare. Signs of recent plastic surgery hid the marks well. Restraint and torture marks on Anming's wrists, neck, ankles, and back were still healing, but were expertly hidden. These he saw at a glance. Given the extent, there could be more. It was chilling.
Zach's mind snapped to the present when Anming unclasped her bra. She released her perfect golden brown B-cups with dark brown erect nipples. She regarded him with amusement and asked him, "Aren't you a medical doctor? Haven't you seen a woman's body before?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," said Zach, turning away and hanging up his shirt. "It's nerves about the mission. I got lost in thought and my eyes wandered where any healthy man's eyes would naturally wander." He figured he shouldn't mention the torture wounds.
"You flatter me," said Anming. "I'm the ugliest woman in this room, and yet, I capture your eye."
At that remark, Zach turned around. She couldn't be serious. As if in retaliation for his bold glances, she pointedly assessed his lithe but muscular chest, abdomen, and arms. She dropped her comfortable slacks, leaving only plain white panties. He saw through the panties that she had a nice, compact, but probably unshorn jet black muff on her. He loved these women who were so distracted by their work they didn't shave. He objected, "I'm looking at a beautiful woman. Incomparably beautiful. May I elaborate?"
"You may," she allowed, slipping out of her panties and setting them aside. They had an obvious creamy mark on the crotch. "I apologize," she said, "Flying makes me wet." Provocative.
"Nothing to apologize for. In fact, a beautiful feature in and of itself. To be honest, I have a related response to flying." He pulled off his pants and underwear, leaving only his socks. His half erect penis sprang into view. Anming's gaze helplessly descended to stare at it in either fear or admiration. As it slowly inflated for her, she wrenched her gaze up to his face. He continued, "That touch of cream on your panties shows me you're a passionate woman. You're a healthy, nay sanguine woman, a woman of deep enthusiasm. Your thin yet strong limbs and torso show me that your diet is probably healthier than mine. Your lack of trinkets, tattoos, makeup, even your unshaven muff indicates you're forthright. Despite your claim of being uglier, you're quite confident of your appearance. You feel no need to elaborate upon it. Your nipples tell me, mmm, it's cold in here. It would be presumptuous of me to assume further."
"You're too kind," she replied. She slipped on some fresh panties and reached for her flight suit. The audience was apparently over. Zach turned to the work of donning his own flight suit and space suit. With this new, more modern space suit, he was done within five minutes.
They were ushered into a room for family members of the crew. His two older sisters were there. Emily, the eldest, was nine years older, in her forties. Madison, the middle child, was five years older. Their parents were dead from a car accident. They had not lived to see him get his MD a year later. He entered the room and went straight to Emily and Madison and hugged Emily. Emily was a long hugger, and did not let him go for a while. Though the three saw one another infrequently, it was easy among the three of them. The more momentous the occasion, the longer the hug, and this was Emily's longest hug ever. When she finally released him, he bent down and hugged Madison briefly. Madison was in a wheelchair, permanently disabled by the same car accident that had killed their parents eight years ago.
Zach left his sisters to wander around and meet his crewmates by themselves. He met a few of his crewmates' families. He ran into Charisse's parents. Her mother Lilac Rainbow grabbed onto his bicep with slender fingers. "We've heard so much about you." The father shook his hand admiringly. He didn't catch the father's name.
"Good things, I hope," came the stock answer from Zach.
"The best," they assured him. Lilac Rainbow squeezed the bicep she was still latched onto for emphasis. Another couple in their fifties rushed up to greet him. The Roberts couple unlatched and drifted towards their next destination.
"We're Berte's parents," said the mother, grabbing Zach's hands in hers. They were Jan and Anna Kaufman.
"I'm so glad to meet you," said Zach very genuinely. "Berte's a treasure: joyful, whimsical, always three steps ahead of the rest of us."
"Well, we visited only a few months ago, and Berte is transformed. I've never seen her so happy, calm, and fulfilled. Confident, too," said Mrs. Kaufman. "She has mentioned you in her latest emails."
"Mrs. Kaufman, she's very special to me, and we all love her so much."
"Please, call me Anna," Mrs. Kaufman insisted.
"So wonderful to meet you, Anna."
Khushi latched onto Zach's arm and dragged him towards a sizable group of people looking to be her relatives. These were babes in arms to men and women so old they did not look like they should be trying to stand up. They zeroed in on what he suspected were her mother and father. The mother looked like she must have had Khushi in her teens. She was voluptuous like Khushi and then some. She was dressed to seduce in a series of modest looking yet revealing shawls and veils. Her breasts seemed too large for human musculature and spine to sustain. Her cleavage was like two gas giants colliding. Her father was tall as Zach, thin as a rod, and very businesslike and put together. As soon as Zach and Khushi approached, the mother said, "You must be Zachary." She stuffed the handles of a large, heavy paper bag into his hands. He suspected more pastries. She turned to Khushi and asked, "Is it too early to check, vava?"
"Yes, darling mother," Khushi replied. "At least three more days. At least."
The husband stepped in and shook Zach's hand brusquely, "Keep up the good work, son," he said.
"I will, sir," Zach promised him.
"Later, bye," said Khushi to her family and dragged him out of earshot. "Thank you so much, Zachary."
