"Everyone?" I feigned shock. "Ok, well we're going to have to make a bit of a production line," I went into practical organizing mode, which was a bit of a departure from my runway entrance and dramatic posing to show off my outfit.
Completing six blow jobs in time for the guys to get down to breakfast was going to be cutting things a little fine. Normally it was only three or four, but they had all missed out on their goodnight "kisses", so the demand was high.
I lined them all up in the common area and, lowering myself to my knees, gave instructions, "Ok guys, if you can have yourself kind of warmed up before I get to you, that's going to really help out. I want it as fast as you can give it to me, ok? And can I just swallow today, to keep everything neat and tidy?"
Nobody complained about the rules, so I went to work. Getting the guys to warm themselves up definitely helped. Most of them were pretty ripe by the time their turn came, and all I really did was catch the results. I also had to shorten the usual afterglow warm-down treatment in the interest of saving time, but nobody complained. With that spirit of teamwork we got it done, and all the guys were at breakfast on time.
I like to think my Daisy Duke outfit helped. I had applied slightly heavier makeup, and at the last minute removed the pretty, lacy red bra, reverting to au naturel. I was again surprised and impressed at the cleavage afforded to me by the low gravity. It was something I would miss about the Moon when I returned home, I figured, but I might as well enjoy it while it lasts! With that boost, my modest breasts were able to make a tantalizing tease in the half-unbuttoned flannel shirt, tied as it was underneath my bust. My tummy was fully exposed, showing off my figure.
The shorts were tricky to put on, because the back side was threadbare. The denim was reduced to merely horizontal strands across much of the fabric, so I had to take care to find the leg hole! I also needed carefully to select suitable underwear, because the gaps ran all the way across to the vertical seam in the middle. That meant I couldn't wear anything other than a string thong under them. The effect was worth it, though. The substantial gaps in the denim across my bottom are super cheeky.
The high heeled pumps were fire-engine red, so I made sure to match that with an audacious application of lipstick. The final result was, if I say so myself, very cute. And by cute, I mean pretty naughty with a dash of nice.
I did an moderate workout, starting on the armbands for a change, and progressing to the bike. Other than kicking off the pumps, I was still Daisy Duking it as I exercised. I kept it light so as not to work a sweat, just a "glow". I enjoyed the view of the increasingly familiar lunar landscape as I rode, and I just daydreamed.
I was reflecting on how much I had adapted to this strange new life. I really had been a Sandra Dee, and was by now much closer to a PornHub version of Daisy Duke. But other things were changing, too. One in particular was niggling at me.
I did get an early night the previous evening, but I brought some toys to bed with me to see if I could learn more about them. Ok, that's not the whole reason, but that's the captain's fault! She was the one stealing my knickers and giving me a smack. I can't help that!
What I discovered was, now that the concept of things going into my bottom had been broached... If I had something in there, everything else was sort of turbo-charged. I found a slender toy shaped like a very long teardrop, with a sort of cross-piece fitted at the fat end. That one had a diagram to describe how it worked, which helped a lot! It goes in your bottom (ok, in my bottom...), and the cross piece stops it from disappearing inside. The teardrop shape means it doesn't slide out by itself. It's smooth and hard.
Ultimately, I had that one in there, and a little egg-shaped vibrator, again with helpful instructions, which just pops inside and is controlled by a wireless remote control. So I ended up laying there with my legs splayed open, my right hand making love to me as usual, but with the egg inside controlled by my left hand clutching the remote and changing speed in sympathy with my needs, and the "plug" in my bottom just driving everything along with its naughty intrusiveness. It was powerful!
I was going to explore my bottom further, I decided, as I rode along among billion year-old craters under the colorful eye of the planet containing all of humanity except we eight travelers, cloistered on this remotest of outposts. But how should I do that? Could I ask the captain? I decided not to. She was the boss, and any games we played would be driven by her desires, including the games where she is ostensibly submissive. I needed to be able to play a game where I was seemingly submissive in a similar way, but where I have my needs pursued.
As I rode, the idea bounced around in my mind. Presently, a solution bubbled up, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. It was at least worth a try.
I didn't know if any of the guys would be willing to help me. After all, I was here for them, not the other way around. But Dex was a little different. We had an understanding. I had kept confidential the way I could always guarantee I got my good morning treat from him exactly when I wanted it. And more than that, his secret involved bottoms! He would at least hear me out.
