To the Moon and Bac

"I came as soon as I could," I assured the captain, and she ushered me into her personal quarters. Her digs were larger than anyone else's, and that seemed fitting. She had sort of an apartment, with a lounge area, separate bedroom, and en suite bathroom. The other quarters were more sparse, a single bunk with a shower and toilet at the far end.

The captain had shed her coveralls and wore simple shorts and a cotton t-shirt.

"I appreciate it, doc. Come in and have a seat," she motioned me to the lounge chairs.

"Oh, um...," I equivocated. 'It's probably better if I stand. I'm a bit... sorry... a bit sticky?" I was apologetic, not wanting to insult her hospitality.

"Oh dear," she fawned with concern. "Did Darryl leave you a bit of a mess?" Her voice was kind, as though genuinely worried that I had been mistreated.

"Oh no," I insisted. "I mean... ok, yes. But it was nice, you know? Nothing wrong with it. I just... I came straight over. I haven't stopped to freshen up. Is that ok?" I was now vividly conscious of the stickiness between my thighs, and the additional surges of the mess that were finding their way through the flimsy fabric of my knickers as I walked or stood. My inner thighs were sticky, and in some places starting to get crusty. I bit my lip in self conscious embarrassment.

"Would you like me to go clean up?" I motioned towards her bathroom.

Taking my hand, the one that was pointing to the facilities, she lowered it, saying, "Oh, that won't be necessary." Her other hand came up and ever so gently rested against my lips to signal "Shhh".

I wasn't sure what was happening, but whatever she needed to see me about apparently couldn't wait the five minutes, less maybe, that it would take me to just clean myself up a bit. I wondered what all this was about.

My eyes must have conveyed something of my question. She responded, "How long have we been here now? Less than two weeks?"

I nodded, her finger still blocking my lips. I had never noticed her wearing perfume before, and hadn't thought about it, but as her wrist was so close to my face I unexpectedly caught a luscious scent, it was a welcome change from the masculine deodorants and powerful body odors of the guys. It was a sudden feminine oasis. I was trying to place the scent. Poison, perhaps?

"And you're fitting in so nicely. I mean, I gotta say, nobody in your... role... in the past has been as authentic, and frankly, as popular with the lads," she continued.

I was surprised. I mean, I know they liked me, but why wouldn't they? I was available for the taking, virtually any time, any where!

She lowered her hand and lowered her voice at the same time. "But the boys aren't the only ones with needs," she suddenly seemed uncharacteristically vulnerable.

My thoughts swirled. It hadn't occurred to me, but it made sense. If she needed to blow off steam, why shouldn't she be allowed to use me like the men do? Frankly, back in her office at Spacer Industries on that sweltering day when I met her, things got to a stage I thought she was gong to do just that, but when she didn't, I concluded she just wasn't interested. She had seemed aroused, and I was sure she was undressing me with her eyes after I had taken off the constricting skirt and the devilish stockings. But eventually, after downing our final shot of vodka, we had just stood there, close enough to breathe one another's air, staring into each other's eyes, she just idly tugging at my lapels, pushing strands of hair back from my face, and chewing on her bottom lip. I would have done anything she commanded, but then she stepped back. She put my clothes in a bundle in my arms, and said, "See you bright and early Monday for training." The skirt was too hopelessly soggy to put back on, so I had to scurry to my car wearing only my blouse, bare legs, and mid-height slingback pumps, not knowing who might see me from the office windows.

"I think I understand," I responded tenderly, in response to her openness. "Of course I'm happy to be here for you as well. I just thought you... didn't want me to."

She stood, I hadn't previously noticed how close, but so close I could feel her breath on my cheeks, for a long moment, looking into my eyes. She seemed to be in an inner wrestle, unsure what to say next. Perhaps this was what had been going on in her office on Earth. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Was this a test? I edged forwards to kiss her, but she pulled back.

"I'm sorry. Please tell me what you want me to do. I want you to be happy," I earnestly pleaded, my hands fidgeting with each other. "I'll do anything," I blurted, throwing them open.

I meant it. She had earned my admiration and respect. Heck, she saved my life in that lander module. I didn't know what she wanted, being inexperienced with women, but I would try my best if only she would tell me.

"Anything?" she asked, with a note of sincere hope in her voice.

I paused. What could she mean? Was it something really bad? Difficult? Painful? I decided it was a moment where I should trust her. I dared to be so forward as to take both her hands in mine. She let me. She seemed small, fragile, even frightened. "Anything," I repeated.

She looked away, seemingly to hide some emotion. She mumbled in that direction, and downwards at the floor, "I want you to be... I need you...," she looked at me squarely and steeled herself, "How are you at being bossy?" Her voice broke a little, as though the sentence had been dragged through shards of glass.

"Bossy?" I responded, surprised. I was trying to be careful, because it was like she was revealing something very intimate and precious. I didn't want to hurt her feelings by getting it wrong.

"I mean," her voice was breaking up, and if I didn't know better I might have thought she was at risk of crying. She was stage whispering, as though we were being watched, "You could tell me to... to do things, and stuff..." She wasn't looking at me any more, but down at the floor. She was clearly battling the urge to just stop talking, as if terrified of bringing this out in the open. As if something bad would happen.

Suddenly I grasped what she was asking. She wanted me to be dominant, and to be demanding sexually. It wasn't something I was very familiar with, but I could see she was a long way out on a limb here, and I was determined to do whatever I could to help her, to care for her.

"I can do that," I assured her. "I think... I mean, I'll try, ok? But...," I paused, and she looked into my face with trepidation, presumably fearing I would mock her, or laugh at her, or reject her, or say something stupid. I needed to pick my words carefully.

"How... how will I know when to, you know..., be bossy?" I asked. Because in reality, I was never going to be the boss. This could be an amusing game, but it would only ever be a game. She was the boss, and that would never change.

Relief visibly flooded across her expression, and a broad smile escaped her restraint before she reined it back in and assumed something like her more normal, authoritative air. "I'll address you as 'the doc', or 'my girl' as usual around the place. But when I want you to... switch roles..., I'm going to call you Professor Kingston. Ok? That will be your cue." She was blurting it out rapid fire, as though she had been rehearsing it. In fact, it seemed likely she had been. How long had she been wanting to say this? How long had she been torturing herself with this unspoken desire?

"I can work with that, for sure!" I happily agreed. "And none of the boys will ever know. It will be just our thing," I added, to another look of profound relief and appreciation.

"I think this will be fun," I giggled. "But bear in mind I have no idea what I'm doing, ok? I'll do my best but this will be new for me."

"Me too," she confessed. And with those two simple words I knew she had never played this game before. With anyone.

Several pleasantly awkward seconds passed, with our hands clasped together between our chests, her perfume wonderfully coloring the moment with feminine softness. Presently, I once again indicated her bathroom, "Shall I get cleaned up now? Then we can... figure out how it's going to work."

An expression that I had never seen on her before made her face appear young, innocent, inquiring, and naive. She looked right into my eyes and said, "Wouldn't you like me to take care of that for you," She gulped before continuing in an unsure voice, "Professor Kingston?".

It took a few moments to realize what had happened, but of course, this explained everything. She had been concocting a way to get a fantasy situation to happen, where I would be with one of the men, and then come to her and demand that she "take care of" the mess afterwards.

That was kind of hot.

And now she had invoked the game. I was supposed to be the bossy professor. She, presumably, a nubile student. So how should I proceed?

"You're darn right I would, young lady. Get to it," I attempted, hoping I was getting the tone right.

Immediately, she took me by the hand, leading me into the bedroom, chattering along, "Certainly, Professor Kingston. I hope I do a good enough job for you. I hope you don't need to... punish me." She was glowing with joy. I could see the game was not going to be difficult to play, because she was so incredibly into it, all I needed to do was play along.

"Oh yes, there will be hell to pay if you don't, you little scamp," I experimented further, eliciting from her a light squeal of pleasure and a huge smile.

She turned me around and lay me on my back on the bed, with my feet still on the floor, then slid her hands up my legs to start pulling my knickers down.

"Your panties are awfully moist, Professor Kingston. Must I suck the juices from them?" her sweet voice forming the scandalous words was delightfully deceitful, and in this game she was out in front, setting the pace for me, showing me exactly how to boss her around. I could tell she had been running this scenario in her imagination countless times. The poor soul!

"Yes you must. Make sure you get it all, young lady. I should not have to tolerate having such a sticky mess on my intimates," I admonished her, noting her arousal leap in response, behind her sparkling blue eyes. She barely stifled a delighted smile.

She was licking her lips as she slid the sodden knickers off me, and I sat myself up once she had them off so that I could continue giving instructions.

"Like this, Professor Kingston?" she innocently asked, drawing near me and sticking half of the sticky mess of wet silky fabric and slimy goo into her mouth, making truly disgraceful, and evidently embellished, sucking and slurping noises.

"No, you silly girl, put them right in. I don't want to have to watch you fulfill your disgusting duties. Put them in your mouth. And why are you still wearing these clothes? You know I require complete nakedness. Snap to it!" I was getting into the rhythm of the game, and I'll admit I was enjoying it

After shoving my knickers in her mouth, she jumped up and began undressing as fast as she could, as if eager to obey. She had the singlet off, and had released her bra in record time, but I decided to nudge her anyway, "Quickly, girl. I don't want to be here all day!"

She moaned in pleasure, increasing the urgency of her movements until she had flung the shorts and her briefs at the far corner of the room, sending them in a distinctly lunar high arc, a much taller, slower trajectory than would have been the case on Earth.

"Now, let me see you," I demanded of the naked woman.

She stood almost at attention for me, her bright blue eyes glittering with excitement, and her mouth full of my knickers. It was easy to forget she was almost twice my age.

I stopped to admire her naked form. Actually, she was very beautiful, but I would have feigned admiration anyway. Her breasts were much larger than mine, and the low gravity afforded them the most luscious shape, her beautifully curved figure punctuated tastefully by her diminutive blonde crop of pubic hair. She was athletic and fit, as were all the crew. I made it clear that I was leering, assessing and enjoying her nakedness as she obediently stood on display for me and waited for my next instruction. It wasn't hard to treat her with such predatory intent. Men had been looking at me that way for as long as I could remember.

Finally, I gave a dismissive wave, "You'll do. Now, tell me what size bra you wear," I demanded, knowing that with a mouth full of sticky underpants, she would not be able to answer, and of course, it was an irrelevant question in the first place. It didn't matter.

She was deliciously conflicted, bugging her eyes open at me, aware of the checkmate I had placed her in. She made muffled sounds through her overstuffed mouth.

"What? I can't understand you. Speak clearly, girl," I snapped. Her hand came up to pull the knickers out of her mouth, and I admonished her, "Did I say you could remove those?"

She shook her head, and lowered her hand. Her cheeks flushed with an erotic thrill at being reprimanded. She was enjoying this. A lot.

"If you're not going to speak clearly, you can't expect anyone to pay you their mind, young lady," I scolded her. "Now, stop fiddling around. Take that ridiculous garment out of your mouth, and get down here to do your proper cleaning up," I opened my legs.

In a flash, she pulled my knickers from her mouth and discarded them, "Yes, Professor Kingston," she babbled, as she hurried to her knees in front of me.

I lay back and lifted my legs, resting my feet on her shoulders, saying, "I want a thorough job, too. Don't you leave a single drop."

She barely got out a "Yes, professor Kingston," before diving in with enthusiasm. She did try to find all the areas that were sticky, licking them with long strokes of her eager tongue. She systematically attended to my whole inner thigh area, almost to my knees, but she also spent a good amount of time pleasuring me in the most exquisite ways, even sucking my wetness as if to draw out any remaining juices.

I wanted to get lost in the sensations, but this was the captain's fantasy, not mine. So I made sure to remark, from time to time, things like, "Do it faster," and "Don't let it drip." Each time I shot a new demand at her, I could feel her excitement accelerate until she was almost in a frenzy.

Although I was happy to stay like this for longer, I started to wonder how to bring this to a culmination. With men, that was pretty straightforward, but I had no real experience with women. I was going to have to improvise.

I sat myself up, saying, "Yes, yes. That's enough of that. I don't want you thinking you're allowed to enjoy it." I pushed her head away from me, albeit reluctantly.

She sat back, her face glistening, a link of drool stretching from her chin to me, and her eyes alive with passion as it broke, falling in lunar slow motion onto her naked torso. It then remained as a slobbery link between her chin and her excitedly quivering left breast, wobbling about with every movement.

"You can't possibly get it all from that angle. Come over here, you silly girl, and get a different approach," I indicated she should climb on the bed and lean over my tummy to access me.

As she eagerly hopped up and positioned herself, her tail end was near my head, and I was able to see the evidence of arousal there. "Oh, what a wicked girl! I can see you have been enjoying yourself, haven't you?" I demanded, landing a smack on her prominently exposed cheek.

"Yes, Professor Kingston," came the reply from down near my loins, before she dove back in, attending to me from a new angle, which afforded her even better access. She proceeded with urgency.

"Well, that just won't do, you prurient little pervert. Bring it across here, where I can remove all evidence of it," I tugged at her knee, easily lifting it so that she was astride my face. I didn't have any experience like this with a woman, but I was ready to learn. I lifted my mouth to her sweet wetness, and its thin tufts of blonde pelt. Immediately, she moaned into my loins, and lowered her hips so that I didn't need to have my head raised. We were plugged into one another, each able to sense the other's tongue movements with infinitesimal accuracy, and we responded, each to the other, through those intense sensations.

I don't know that I was particularly expert, but I managed at least to close the circuit, where we each accelerated the other's thrill, in an ever increasing intensity. When it reached its peak, we bucked and writhed together, the game forgotten. We each made our moans and cries, both of us muffled as we each ferociously continued to stimulate the other with our faces, extending the critical moment further and further, sustaining and reenergizing its peak again and again for an eternity, before eventually, inevitably, it fell, ripe and replete, a happier Icarus, from its ultimately unsustainable high.

Finally, we fell, exhausted, in an easy heap, faces buried in each other's musky, moist mounds. We stayed there for several minutes before she roused herself with apparent great effort, lifted her body, which could only have weighed around ten or fifteen kilos in the lunar gravity, and spun around to flop gently down next to me, looking into my face.

"Thanks, doc," she closed the game, returning us to our assigned roles. "That was nice."

"I had a lot of fun," I replied honestly. "... Ma'am."

We shared knowing smiles.